Chapter Text
The Wheeler basement is warm in a familiar, lived-in way, with the soft drone of the old dehumidifier tucked into the corner and the smell of pizza grease soaked permanently into the carpet. The table is crowded with character sheets and miniatures and empty soda cans, exactly how it has always been, and Mike is at the head of it with his hands placed on either side of the Dungeon Master screen like he has done a thousand times before. It’s times like these when the Wheeler basement feels most like home.
Just 18 months ago they stopped the Abyss, the Mind Flayer, from crushing its dimension into ours. The Earth had split into four, and soon after their very childhood split with it. Vecna, like El, is gone, never to be back. All that’s left are the memories and the horrors of their experiences.
And yet, here they are, five of the party gathered around that same table in the Wheeler’s basement. Here they can pretend for just a little while that the world is simple and rule rule-bound and fair.
Will sits directly across from Mike. He leans in just enough to close the distance, elbows on the table, fingers bent around his character sheet. His knee bounces under the table, restless but controlled. When Mike looks up, Will does not pretend not to notice. He meets Mike’s gaze and holds it.
Mike clears his throat and reaches into his bag.
The moment stretches as he pulls out the plastic vampire teeth and slides them into place, posture straightening as he slips back into his role. He looks up at the table, eyes dark and intent, and speaks.
“Time to join your friends, sorcerer.”
Dustin groans immediately, burying his face in his hands as Lucas lets out a stiff laugh. Max shoots to her feet, frustration flaring hot and fast as she starts shoving things off the shelf behind her, clutter tumbling to the floor.
“All that time spent just for it to end like this?” she snaps. “There has to be something else we can do.”
Mike barely registers their reactions, because Will is still looking at him.
Will sighs, slow and deliberate, tilting his head slightly as though pondering Mike rather than the situation. His gaze drags over Mike’s face unhurried before he speaks.
Before he can speak again, Dustin straightens abruptly, eyes opened wide in sudden realization.
“The Mage,” he says. “She said we could summon her at our lowest point.”
Without even a slight pause, the room explodes into chaos. Binders are grabbed and flipped open, papers scatter across the table and onto the floor. Lucas scans columns of text with sharp focus while Max crouches to grab a fallen page, muttering under her breath.
Will finds the page first.
His hands still as he lifts it, breath catching in his chest momentarily as he scans the page for the incantation. When he begins to read, his voice is steady and charged, and his pulse is pounding loud enough that he can hear it in his ears. The incantation fills the basement, as if it can physically take up space beside them.
Mike leans forward without even realizing, eyes fixed on Will.
“Nothing happens,” Mike says sharply, shaking his head slightly.
The party sits back in their chairs, groans filling the room as they express their disappointment.
After pausing for just a moment to add a dramatic effect to his narration, he clears his throat and continues “A purple light begins to shine through the mist, growing brighter and brighter.”
Lucas is sat with his elbows on the table, staring daggers into Mike. Max looks to either side, at Lucas and Will, to try and figure out whats happening.
“Its a portal, and out of this portal steps…”
Dustin is leaning so far forward in his chair that it begins to slip.
Mike slams a purple miniature down onto the board and shouts, “The Mage of St. Markovia!”
Dustin jumps up instantly as Max lets out a powerful yell. Everyone is clapping and Max pulls up iIll to catch him with a double high five that turns into an embrace. The entire party stands arms around each other, screaming in victory.
“Strahd lets out a piercing screech as his body shrivels, burns, and turns to ash.”
They had done it, they had won. Max clapped once more and smirked, like she had known all along they would make it, even though moments earlier she had been hurling objects around the room in frustration over their near loss. Will smiled, wide and real, adrenaline still buzzing through his veins. Not only from the game, from the victory, but also because he noticed Mike becoming flustered. He had made Mike flustered in front of everyone.
Once the celebrations died down, the quiet crept back in. This was when Will would look away. He used to shrink, used to fold inward the moment attention lingered too long, as if being seen too clearly were dangerous. Will raised his eyes deliberately to where Mike sat across the table. Mike always seemed to sense when Will was looking at him, like a thread pulled tight between them, and sure enough, he looked up.
Their gazes caught and held.Will didn’t blink, he didn’t rush. He let his eyes soften just enough to be unmistakable, let them linger in a way that communicated exactly what he wanted without saying a word. Mike’s reaction was immediate and unguarded, his breath faltered sharply, shoulders tensing as if he’d been caught. His brow twitched as if he were daring Will to crawl right over that table. His eyes darkened before dropping, helplessly, to Will’s mouth.
Will let it happen, let them continue feeling like they were the only two in the room. He brought his knuckle to his lips, slow and deliberate. Not nervous but intentional, and watched Mike swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. Mike’s gaze snapped back up for half a second, wide and panicked, before he looked away entirely, cheeks flushed, fingers fumbling with his papers in his hand.
Will’s pulse kicked hard, satisfaction warm and steady in his chest.
“Wow,” Max said, breaking the moment like a blade, “I thought you were some kind of master storyteller or something.”
Mike blinked repeatedly and leaned back, trying to clear his head of what just happened, “Hey, that ending was earned.”
Dustin nodded fervently. “Absolutely.”
Mike smiled, a little sheepish now, and started talking, slipping easily into narration again. Max wanted to know about what happens to everyone after they win. He talked about where everyone’s characters ended up, about peace and rebuilding and futures that stretched forward.
Will tried to listen, he really did, but all he could think about was the way Mike’s mouth moved when he talked, the way his hands gestured, the way his curls fell into his eyes now that he had stopped cutting them so short. He thought about what it would be like to run his fingers through those curls, as he did almost every day the last few months.
Will sits curled slightly into himself on one end of the couch, feet tucked beneath his legs, hands folded loosely in his lap. Mike is beside him, close enough that their shoulders brush every time one of them shifts, close enough that Will is painfully aware of the warmth of him. They’ve been like this a lot lately, quiet but in each other’s company. Orbiting each other without quite knowing how to land.
The two boys read side by side, together but not quite touching, like magnets drawn close but fated to hover in that fragile space just before connection. The Wheelers’ new CD player hummed softly from the table, Just Like Heaven filling the otherwise silent room. Will let the music claim just enough of his attention to keep him from flinching every time Mike’s arm brushed his when he turned a page.
Then the cushions beside him released as Mike straightened, the warmth at Will’s side vanishing in an instant. Mike crossed the room all too quickly, his movements stiff, arm already extended to click the CD player off.
“What—?”
Mike doesn’t look at him right away. He stares at the silent CD player for a second, jaw tight, arm still outstretched, finger still touched against the large silver button.
Mike slowly turns to Will, head and eyes turned to the floor. “I miss her,” he says finally.
The words land heavily, but not unexpectedly.
Will nods, slow and automatic. Everyone misses El. The ache of it lives in all of them, some days sharper than others. Will swallows, unsure of where this conversation will lead them.
“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”
Mike exhales, shoulders slumping as he makes his way back to the couch. “I mean-” He frowns, searching for the right phrasing. “I miss her a lot. But not the way I thought I would.”
Will turns toward him fully now, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Mike runs a hand through his hair, like he always does when nervous, leaving his curls sticking up in the back. “I loved El,” he says, carefully. “I still do. But it’s… It’s different now. It’s like-” He huffs out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Like the way I love Dustin. Or Lucas. Or Max.”
Will’s chest tightens painfully. “Oh,” he says, before he can stop himself.
For half a second, something raw flashes across his face. Something like hurt and rejection, sharp and instinctive, before he reins it in. He looks away, fixing his gaze at the wall, suddenly aware of how close they are and how far away that sentence made him feel.
“Will no, that’s not-” He cuts himself off, panic creeping into his voice. “That’s not what I meant.”
Will forces a shrug, although it feels brittle. “It’s fine,” he says, a little too quickly. “You don’t have to explain.”
Mike turns toward him fully now, urgency written all over his face. “Do you remember the radio tower?” he asks.
Will’s fingers curl tighter into the fabric of his jeans. “Yeah,” he says quietly. How could he forget?
“I wasn’t honest with you up there,” Mike says. His voice is more tender now, stripped of the defensiveness he used to armor himself with. “Not completely.”
Will’s breath catches in his chest.
Mike keeps going, words bursting out now like he’s afraid if he stops, he’ll lose the nerve. “I did notice how you felt about me, but I pushed you away. Because if I let myself admit that, then I’d have to admit something else too.”
He slowly raises his eyes to meet Will’s
“That I loved you.”
Mike presses on, voice trembling but steady with conviction. “When you were taken in season one, I thought I was going to lose my mind. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe. Every second felt wrong without you there. And when you were possessed, when the Mind Flayer had you, I was terrified in a way I’d never been before. Not like that.”
He shakes his head slowly. “And when El disappeared… it hurt. God, it hurt. But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t this.” He gestures helplessly between them. “This constant ache. This feels like something different is missing.”
Will’s eyes burn, vision blurring with confusion. He barely trusts himself to speak. “what are you saying?”
Mike’s expression softens completely, all the sharp edges falling away. “I’m saying I finally understand the difference,” he says. “I didn’t love El the way I loved you. I never did.”
Will hesitates for a moment, taking a few breaths to clear his head. With the way Mike gazes into his eyes, the pure expression on his face, Will’s momentary confusion at Mike’s words dissipates.
Will feels exposed in a way that is both intimidating and electrifying. He searches Mike’s face for doubt, for fear, for any sign that this is a mistake, but all he finds is certainty.
Mike’s voice drops, almost reverent. “I love you,” he says. “The way I love you now.”
They stare at each other, breathing the same air, close enough that Will can see the way his pupils are blown wide.
Mike’s throat bobs as he swallows. He hesitates, giving Will the choice, giving Will the control. “Can I kiss you?”
Will doesn’t answer with words, he just leans in.
“And Will the Wise,” Mike said, voice tender.
Will looked up, startled from his thoughts.
“He moves to the bustling city of Vallaki,” Mike continued, eyes fixed on the page and voice steady. “There, he finds deep happiness and acceptance. He finds people who see him for who he is.”
Will’s throat constricted with emotion.
“And he meets someone.”
Something in Mike’s tone shifted on that last part, it was careful and intent.
The campaign ended properly after that. Binders were closed with a sense of satisfaction and stacked back on the shelf where they belonged. Mrs. Wheeler’s voice floated down from upstairs, calling them to dinner. Everyone groaned, but they went, one by one, feet thudding up the stairs. Dustin was still talking about his favorite roll. Lucas and Max quickly followed, Max excited to finally try Mrs. Wheeler's famous lasagna.
Mike and Will lingered as the rest made their way upstairs and closed the door. Will gathered pages as Mike pushed in chairs around the table, both doing unnecessary tasks to make sure they were alone downstairs.
Will shifted his weight, waiting for the perfect moment to break the silence “So,” Will says, leaning a hip back against the table, “you’re imagining me with some random boyfriend now?”
For a moment, Mike freezes. It was just long enough for his hesitation to be obvious.
He rubs the back of his neck, “I... I didn't say random.”
Will hums, clearly amused, and steps closer. “You kind of did,” he says. “Some mysterious guy in Vallaki who makes me deeply happy.” He tilts his head, mock-thoughtful. “What, does he have a sword? A tragic backstory?”
Mike groans. “Will.”
“What?” Will’s smiles, playful and knowing. “I just didn’t realize you’d already cast me a boyfriend.”
Mike’s ears start to turn pink as he shakes his head.
He exhales hard, shoulders tense, then blurts out, “I meant me.”
The words hang there, for only a moment. Then his mouth transforms into a smirk. “Wow,” he says. “Took you long enough.”
Mike looks up, startled, “Will, are you serious?”
Will laughs softly and steps even closer, close enough now that Mike can feel the heat radiating from his body accompanied by the slight brush of his breath. “Mike,” he says gently, “you made my character fall in love in every campaign since we were fourteen.”
Mike sputters. “That’s not, that’s different.”
“Sure,” Will says, eyes flicking down to Mike’s mouth and back up again. “Before it was a girl with black curly hair.”
Mike stares at him, overwhelmed, flushed, and clearly spiraling. “You’re such a jerk.”
Will grins. “You love it.”
“Yeah,” Mike says before he can stop himself. Then, quieter, more honest, “I do.”
Will’s teasing softens, something warmer settling into his expression. “You’re kind of a loser, you know that?” he says fondly.
Mike laughs, breathless. “Says my boyfriend who’s been sneaking around with me for months and flirting in front of our friends.”
“I was being subtle.”
Mike doesn’t answer, he steps forward instead.
There’s no rush, no desperation in their movements. He places a hand on Will’s waist and hesitates just enough to give Will time to step away. He knows Will would never step away, but always gives him the chance. He leans in, eyes dark and steady, chin tipping up in silent invitation.
When Mike kisses him, it’s slow.
When Mike leans in, it is with reverence, lips brushing against Will’s in a kiss slow enough to savor each heartbeat. It is deep, deliberate, a confession written in the motion itself. Will makes a soft, startled sound, warm and unguarded, and Mike’s hands tighten at his waist, grounding himself to the reality of him.
Will’s fingers thread through Mike’s curls, thumbs tracing gentle circles along his scalp, anchoring and tugging, and Mike responds instinctively. He presses closer, kisses opening, unrestrained, a rhythm born of months of unspoken longing, all of it pouring into the heat of this single moment.
They stumble backward, breathless and uncoordinated, until Will’s legs meet the edge of the table. A soft, surprised laugh escapes him against Mike’s mouth, and he allows himself to be guided back.
Will settles on the tabletop, the bang of dice echoing beneath him, hands braced for balance as Mike steps in close, folding the space between them. Will tips his chin higher, eyes radiant and steady, and Mike leans in to claim the invitation, hands pressing firmly to Will’s hips as if afraid he might disappear otherwise. The table groans beneath them, creaking in protest, but Will only smiles against Mike’s lips, entirely consumed as the rest of the world falls away.
Will shifts, knees parting just enough to allow Mike to move fully between them. A sharp inhale escapes him as their bodies brush closer, and Mike trails kisses from Will’s lips down to the corner of his jaw. He pauses there briefly, breath hot, anticipation suspended between them. Will, bold and certain, tugs him back up by the collar, their mouths colliding again, harder now, almost reckless. Mike groans into the kiss, low and steady, and Will grins against his mouth, daring him to even try to pull away.
He pulls Mike back up by the collar and kisses him again, harder, a little reckless now. Mike groans quietly into the kiss, the sound humming straight through Will’s chest, and Will smiles against his mouth, feeling triumphant.
“Even as my boyfriend, you're still a loser,” Will murmurs breathlessly when they break for air, forehead resting against Mike’s.
Mike laughs, flushed and breathless, hands still firm at Will’s hips. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You love me.”
The table creaks lightly beneath Will as he leans back on his palms. Dice crunch under Mike’s shoe as he steps, somehow even closer. Mike kisses him again, teeth grazing just enough to make Will shiver, and Will presses back, leaning into him with a soft laugh that Mike feels travel through his mouth with a tickle.
The heat is immediate, the closeness is overwhelming. With a sharp inhale, Mike pulls back just slightly, resting his forehead against Will’s. His chest rises and falls rapidly, eyes stretched wide, holding Will’s gaze.
“We… we gotta get up to dinner before my mom comes down and sees this,” he says, voice stiff but amused, the tension of the moment melting into a flushed grin.
Will laughs softly, lightly grazing a hand over Mike’s chest, fingers lingering just long enough to make Mike’s eyes darken. “You’re impossible,” Mike mutters.
“Will lets out a quiet sigh, shoulders falling forward a little. “I don’t want this to end,” he said in a low voice, a subtle fragility leaking in. “Not even for dinner.”
Mike smiles, running a hand down Will’s arm, teasing but tender. “We’ve been doing this for months,” he says in a soft-spoken voice. “Did it yesterday… and we’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Go join the others,” Mike says in his usual tender voice, “I just want to clean up…” he gestures to the crooked table and fallen dice behind him.
Will patters up the stairs to join the rest of the party at dinner. Mike stays behind, watching intently as Will closes the door behind him.
As soon as the door shuts, Mike releases the deep breath that was lodged in his chest.
Will watches him through the tight crack in the door. He had a feeling something was wrong, similar to how he’d sense when the mind flayer was near. A coldness over his neck, accompanied by a shudder that comes from deep within his very bones.
“That was a close one,” Mike speaks aloud, although there is nobody else in the room. “Sometimes I feel like everyone is catching on.”
Will is utterly horrified. After a quick glance around, he is certain that the room is empty. He sits, panting, his back pressed hard against the door, palms flat on the ground beside him.
Muffled by the now closed door, he hears Mike’s voice travel through the thick wood.
"What's going to happen after this story ends?" Mike says loudly, voice riddled with worry.
"I thought I lost him in volume 2 after we shocked the demos, I can't go through that hurt again!"
With a final groan, Mike begins to make his way up the stairs, footsteps thudding as he closes in on the very door Will presses his body against.