Chapter Text
Mike throws down another stack of paper. Another manuscript that’s been rejected, another year of his life, told that it was utter garbage.
He knew it wasn’t good enough, that even after every edit he made wouldn’t matter, because in the end, he would be erasing the heart at the center.
He looks over to the maps across his desk, marked up and circled, and knows he looks like a madman. He doesn’t know why he’s still looking for El, but small discrepancies, sightings, and other unnatural things that can only be described as magic keep showing up, keep ending up in towns, and he’s too scared to let go of her.
He knows he should. She left him; she either died or left him, and he’s not even sure if he ever loved her, not like he was supposed to. But he doesn’t give up, and he’s not sure why.
Amongst his papers and maps, lies the wedding invitation Lucas has called about twice. Lucas and Max, who seemed to be a match made in heaven, against all odds, or whatever they call it.
“C’mon, Mike, you have no life, I know you’re not going to be busy, don’t give me that bullshit!” Lucas had said, “Dustin and Will have already confirmed. What’s holding you back?”
Will. Just another name that’s haunted him the last five years. They haven’t had a proper meetup since two Thanksgivings ago, when they had all finally confirmed a day they were free to play D&D. Like the old days.
Will had brought his boyfriend. Mike ignored him for the entire campaign, even though Will’s boyfriend was also into D&D and liked to write stories and be a dungeon master. Will’s boyfriend, who left an acrid taste in his mouth for some reason, Will’s boyfriend, who smiled at Will in all the wrong ways. Will’s boyfriend, whom Mike couldn’t help but glare at.
He’s not sure why. Maybe because this guy seemed like an epic douchebag, and Will deserved better. Will deserved someone who knew how he took his coffee (two sugars, heavy on cream, he hated the bitter taste of coffee, but loved the caffeine rush), or how he only drew with a specific pen (the set his mom got him for graduation, the flow was perfect and he hated using anything else to doodle), or how he hated the cold (he would layer everything he could on himself just so that he wouldn't feel like he was being used by the long dead creatures of the upside down). Will’s boyfriend gave him black coffee in the morning (Mike watched as he gulped it down, barely hiding the disgust on his face) and offering him a ballpoint pen to doodle with (because Will had left his prized ones at home) and not give Will his jacket when they went out for drinks (Mike ended up giving up his, he hated watching Will shiver after knowing what memories it brought back).
Will would be there. And maybe it’s the memories of Will sobbing as he told him them all he didn’t like girls (“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”) or that fucking painting, that he knows is not from El, but he never had the heart to bring it up, or that Steve had told him one night what a “Tammy” was, and Mike wanted to throw up.
In the end, he calls Lucas and RSVPs. Maybe it’s because Will will be there. Maybe because he wants to see this boy he’s so addicted to, so ready to throw down everything for.
“Best friends.” He had said that, hadn’t he? He had looked straight into Will’s eyes while imagining kissing him, and told him he’s still his best friend, like he hadn’t wanted to just hold him.
But boys aren’t supposed to be like that. But he’s not supposed to be like that. But El.
So they don’t kiss. He tells him they’re friends and they fall out of contact. What else is new?
…
Mike takes a cab to the motel address Lucas gave him.
“You and Will are sharing a room since you too didn’t bring dates. Dustin and his girlfriend from MIT are in the room next to you and Max, and I’s apartment isn’t too far from the motel.”
The only part that had stuck with him was “You and Will…sharing a room…didn’t bring dates.” So either Will wasn’t with his boyfriend or didn’t bring him.
(Why did he wish so badly for the former?)
He straightens his shirt and steps out of the cab, grabbing his suitcase and taking a deep breath.
His eyes meet soft green-brown ones from ten feet away from him.
Attached to those eyes is hair that’s grown into a nice haircut with a fluffy side part and an earring that must be new, all on a body that belongs to Will Byers.
“Hi,” Will said, awkwardly standing there, smiling at him. Will had soft, light brown eyes that reminded Mike of the milk chocolate they used to get on Halloween. He had a bit of stubble on his chin, which shouldn’t catch the attention of Mike, but it does.
“Hi,” Mike returns, trying not to break into a grin at seeing his best friend.
“You got glasses.” Will nods to his eyes, and Mike subconsciously touches them.
“Yeah, bad eyesight runs in the family.” Mike can only ever see his dad when he looks in the mirror. His dad, who can’t remember his birthday and only ever talks to him to scream. It hurts a little, and Nancy doesn’t like it either, but maybe it’s for the best.
Aren’t all sons supposed to look like their fathers?
Will doesn’t. Will has barely an ounce of Lonnie in him, and Mike knows he beams whenever they tell him he’s the spitting image of his mother. Lonnie was a shitty person, and Mike had wanted to hit him upside the head for years. Too bad a car crash killed him two months ago.
“They look good on you,” Will says, peering up at him through his thick eyelashes, and Mike can’t seem to figure out why he wants to drop to his knees.
He swallows loudly.
“T-thanks.” He clears his throat. “So- uh- um, I hear we’re sharing the motel room, right?”
Will nods quickly and gestures for him to follow him out of the parking lot. He rolls his bag on the uneven pavement, watching Will walk in sync with him, also tugging his bag. He hates the silence, the tension between them, because once upon a time, there was no tension, no awkwardness; they just existed in the same space, and that was enough. Now Mike feels like he needs to fill the space with small talk.
“Are you still doing art?” It’s a stupid question. Will’s just out of art school and is working for fucking Disney, of course, he’s still doing art.
Will still lights up.
“Yeah! I’ve been interning for Disney, you know, animating and stuff, and I think I’ll have a chance at something big there. It’s really cool, learning how to do all of this that they do. Did you know every frame is drawn on paper, and then traced over and over and…” Mike gets lost in Will’s eyes, watching him explain as they walk into the motel. Will’s hand that isn’t dragging his roller bag is gesturing wildly, and it feels nice to be in this moment, watching him light up like he was the sun itself.
The moment ends when Dustin is crushing him in a hug, and Mike hugs him back, glad to be taking his eyes off Will, because he might have combusted from the heat in his body.
“Hey man, it’s been too long!” Dustin pulls back, and Mike looks his friend over, and he lets out an internal sigh of relief. Dustin has barely changed, with his trucker hat and his short mullet, and the big grin he feels safe in.
Dustin is his brother, really, if Mike were being honest. It has been too long.
“Hi Dustin, it’s great to see you, man.” He feels Dustin’s arm sling over his shoulder and sees Will being pulled into this side-hug thing.
“I can’t believe Lucas is getting married. Okay, well, I can believe it, but god, it feels like just yesterday we were fighting monsters.” Dustin says, getting a little misty-eyed.
It’s true because at some point, none of them thought they would be here, none of them expected to make it in that final battle.
Some of them didn’t.
“Where is Lucas, anyways?” Will pipes up, drawing Mike from his spiraling thoughts.
“Off doing some random wedding shit. He told me to tell you guys that the bachelor party is tomorrow, and then the rehearsal dinner the next day, and then the wedding on Sunday.” Dustin seems overexcited, but he always seems like that.
“Cool!” Will exclaims, and Mike nods along, not sure why he feels so uncomfortable with the people he used to call his best friends in the entire world.
It’s weird, now that he knows their childhood trauma and fears, he knows their favorite sweet treats and every detail about their D&D characters, but he doesn’t know these people.
He literally just found out about Dustin’s girlfriend when Lucas told him over the call. Nobody writes to him, nobody calls him. And he doesn’t either, so could he be to blame?
Dustin is rambling on about her, something about her and Max doing a girls' day.
“She’s amazing, I can’t wait for you guys to meet her. She’s like, the smartest person I've ever met, believe me.”
Mike zoned in and out of the conversation, listening to Dustin go on and on about this girl, smiling at his friend's happiness.
Dustin deserves it; they all did, after everything.
Will participates more in the conversation, and Mike can’t help but stare at Will's jaw as it moves and his lips and the curve of his nose and-
“It’s getting late, we should probably get to our rooms.” Will interrupts his thoughts, glancing at Mike, who promptly glances away.
Mike nods, looking down at his watch, seeing that it was already eight. Had he really gotten here only an hour ago?
Dustin nods and smiles, pulling Will and then Mike into hugs.
“Yeah, of course. Get some rest, we have time to kill in the morning, and then we’re going to have the best bachelor party in the history of bachelor parties.”
Both Mike and Will chuckle and then grab their luggage, getting the key for their room from the front desk.
They walk down the hall to room 07 and unlock the door, both in their own worlds.
They open the door and… and there’s a single bed in the room with one closet and one bathroom. A single queen bed.
They both look at each other and then back at the bed.
“I’ll call Lucas-“ Will says, going over the phone and dialing him by memory.
That shouldn’t have made Mike so jealous, because how does he know it so easily? Why doesn’t he know Mike’s?
Maybe because you never called him, dumbass.
Mike is also still trying to figure out why there’s one bed and why it’s so hard for him to comprehend everything.
“-what do you mean you asked for two beds? What are we supposed to do? Lucas? Oh, of course they’re fully booked, Lucas-“ Will's frown and Mike knows that frown, he’s seen it so many times, he’s wanted to feel the creases in Will’s skin, so many times.
It’s his frustrated frown. And now Mike is spiraling because boys can’t share beds, and Mike sure can’t share a bed with Will.
Will just gives him a helpless look.
“Lucas says that he said two beds, but they’re fully booked, so I’ll take the floor.” Mike wants to immediately protest because Will can’t. He’s not sure why Will can’t, but he doesn’t want him to.
“No, no, it’s fine. We can share. We spent millions of sleepovers together.” Mike remembers every single sleepover; he remembers every night they spent talking together, about meaningless things, for hours.
“We were twelve and tiny, Mike, we’re both twenty-three, there’s no way-“
“You’ll be cold,” Mike says softly, looking tentatively at Will.
He likes it cold. Will used to say it all the time, used to tell him how much he hated the cold, because he doesn’t want to be the same small kid. He doesn’t like feeling powerless and under his control.
Will looks down.
“Fine.”
Mike nods, and they begin setting down their things in silence. Mike doesn’t like silence, so he decides to try small talk again.
“Do you still think about him?” Well. He tried. Doesn’t mean he was successful.
Will nods and bites his lip.
“All the time.”
Will looks up at him with a sad smile.
“I talked to Max about it sometimes; she’s a children’s psychologist now, and she tells me that it won’t go away. It doesn’t for her, at least, and studies show that it will only get quieter.” Will fiddles with his shirt, the nervous tick that Mike noticed he never dropped.
Mike nods, and they fall back into silence.
“I’m going… to change.” Will points to the bathroom, and Mike nods again, feeling so stupid. It’s dark outside, but Mike’s sleep schedule is incredibly screwed up; he doesn’t even feel tired. Not sleepy, anyways.
Will comes back, and Mike goes to the bathroom to do the same, splashing water on his face to get it to stop heating up from the thought of sharing the bed.
They both slip under the covers, and Mike turns out the lights, staring up at the ceiling.
“Do you?” Will pipes up, turning on his side to look at Mike. The gap in the curtain lets enough city light in where Mike can see his face, but the blurry effect left from the fact that he doesn’t have his glasses on doesn’t help him see Will very well.
“Do I…?” Mike replies, turning to meet Will’s gaze.
“Sorry. I meant- do you still think about the upside down? Everything that happened? …El?” Will says slowly, as if being cautious of the subject.
“Yeah,” Mike whispers. “I kept chasing her for so long. I really thought I could find her, that my theory was true, but either way… either way she left me.” Admitting it out loud felt like a betrayal.
Doing anything nowadays feels like a betrayal.
“And I think I’ll always think about her. And you. The upside down. Everyone we lost. But I’ve moved on, I think.” Mike closes his eyes, waiting for Will’s response.
Will just hums thoughtfully.
“I think… I think I feel the same.” Will eventually says.
They lay in silence for another few hours, neither of them falling asleep, but instead staring blankly at the ceiling, at each other, at the walls.
It’s not a bad silence, like what Mike hates. No, this silence is comfortable and warm, like a cup of hot chocolate on a rainy day.
It’s nice, being like this again.
…
Will:
After lying in bed for an hour of silence, Will decides to break it with the one question that’s been running through his mind crazy.
“Am I a bad person?” Will whispers, trying not to curl inwards on himself.
“No! Why would you ever think that?” He feels Mike's arm reach over to rub circles on his.
“Dad- Lonnie- I never went to his funeral. I didn’t cry when he died. I- I felt happy- I-” He feels himself being pulled flush against Mike, feeling his arms encircle him completely. Will, the desperate fucker, holds him too, clutches onto him for dear life, and pretends that he’s not being held by the ex-love of his life/maybe still the love of his life.
He sniffles into Mike's arms, and Mike continues to rub circles on his arms.
“That doesn’t make you a bad person. He was a bad person, Will, he sucked. If I’m being completely honest, I would’ve killed him if he didn’t get himself killed.” Mike's voice is muffled by Will’s hair, and Will wants so badly to turn and hug him back; he wants so badly to bury his face in Mike's chest.
Mike isn’t gay. Mike is not gay, no matter what, because they are just best friends. Mike made that abundantly clear seven years ago; he made that clear every day in school; he made it clear he wanted nothing to do with Will’s gayness when Will brought his boyfriend over for Thanksgiving. He barely talked to Will the entire time; he just glared at Will and Daniel. Lucas had noticed and told him they needed to work it out. They never did.
All he does is cry into Mike’s arms and let himself be held. He knows he doesn’t deserve any of it, but he lets it happen anyway.
It feels good to be warm.