Archive of Our Own

Will Byers had a boyfriend.

The thought flitted around inside Mike's head, unable to land in any way that made it seem real. Nevermind the fact that Mike had literally walked in on the two of them making out less than twenty four hours ago. It still hadn't fully registered in his brain as being true.

It certainly wasn't for lack of trying, on his part. The image of them, pressed together on Will's tiny dorm bed was practically etched into his memories now. Along with the shy, awkward way Will had explained to him that Carlton was his boyfriend, after the man in question had practically bolted from the room at Mike's interruption.

"I didn't realize you were coming over," Will had said, softly, apologetic. Mike's immediate response, after about thirty seconds of raging jealousy that he'd never felt in his life before, but swore to himself he'd unpack later, was to ask why Carlton had run off like that. Run off from his supposed boyfriend, from Will, without so much as a goodbye. If anything got to him about this situation, that was on the forefront of it all.

"He's just… shy about it, I guess. Not fully comfortable. But it's fine, he just needs time," Will had explained, endlessly kind, endlessly forgiving, and Mike felt something in his chest twist with anger.

Will deserved better than that shit.

But Mike knew better than to say as much, considering it really wasn't his place, and that Will was already looking tired of explaining both himself and his boyfriend, who couldn't even stick around long enough to introduce himself to Mike, Will's best friend.

Needless to say, Mike was not a fan of Carlton.

Now, though, Mike was back in his own dorm down the hall from Will's, and really, anyone else would be glad to not have a roommate, but Mike had really been holding out hope on rooming with Will when they went to college.

When Mike had brought it up to Will the year prior, Will had given him a surprised laugh, before telling Mike he was already signed up for a single. Mike tried not to let the words sting. Tried not to let the fact that Will explicitly did not want to room with Mike poke at him. But it was fine, really. Will wanted space, his own space, and now Mike knew exactly why.

He didn't want to live in the same room as Mike so he could have his boyfriend over, so they could make out uninterrupted, so no one would walk in on them and hurt poor Carlton's pathetic ego. Whatever. Mike didn't even care.

But back to the issue at hand: Will Byers had a boyfriend, and Mike was painfully unable to be normal about it.

He'd been zoning out in his lectures all day, unable to stop his mind from flashing back to the night prior, unable to stop the frustration brewing in him at someone with their hands all over Will's back, with their mouth pressed against Will's, breathing into Will's mouth.

Mike was seriously starting to hate Carlton.

He also, while laying in his dorm bed after his classes ended, mind still stuck on the incident from the night before, was becoming more and more aware that his feelings were not something that could be entirely chalked up to something platonic. To some kind of— protective best friend issue.

Mike would be lying if he said that he didn't already have his suspicions about his own feelings for Will. He'd be lying if he hadn't always sort of had his suspicions, and that they'd only been amplified three years ago when Will had told the party he was gay. When Mike had felt something in him grind to a halt at the words, something pushing against the walls of his skull, something he was terrified to admit to.

But it had been three years now. They'd literally gone to hell and back, saved the whole damn world, and Mike had had more than enough time to think. It was as if this thing with Carlton, this concept of Will having a boyfriend, the physical evidence of it Mike had seen, was just the final piece in the puzzle. The final push. And Mike couldn't ignore it anymore.

He was reaching for his landline without even thinking about it, dialing a number he knew by heart now. The phone rang once, twice, three times, just long enough for Mike to start to regret his decision, before, finally, on the fourth ring, he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Lucas, hey, it's Mike," Mike greeted, his voice quick, almost panicked. He could hear fabric rustle on the other side of the phone, likely Lucas sitting up in alarm.

"Mike? Are you good, man? It's like, eleven o'clock," Lucas sounded worried, more worried than he should. "Did something happen?"

"No," Mike reassured quickly. Because, while yes, something had happened, it wasn't anything supernatural, or alternate dimension-y, and the last thing he wanted to do was stress Lucas out. "No, no, nothing like that. Everything's good."

"Then why do you sound like you just got punched in the gut?" Lucas asked, but his voice had relaxed, his tone more joking. When Mike didn't reply for a long moment, Lucas guffawed. "Don't tell me you actually got punched, Wheeler."

"What? No!" Mike bit back, annoyed. "Who would even punch me?"

"I don't know," Lucas laughed. "It wouldn't surprise me if Will was finally getting fed up with you, or something."

"As if Will would ever punch anyone," Mike shot back immediately, but he felt his heart rate pick up again at the mention of Will's name. Lucas muttered back some kind of agreement, and Mike was silent for a long moment.

"Seriously, though," Lucas continued, when it became apparent Mike wasn't going to say anything. "What's up? You're starting to freak me out."

"Has—" Mike cut himself off, not sure how to go about saying this in a way that didn't feel like he was somehow revealing a secret of Will's. "Has Will mentioned anything to you? Anything… new?"

Lucas was quiet for a long moment. Mike held his breath, feeling like he'd said too much despite the fact that he'd really said nothing at all.

"So this is about Will," Lucas finally replied.

"Obviously," Mike answered without thinking.

"Obviously," Lucas repeated, sounding incredulous. Then, "Is this about his boyfriend?"

Mike blanched.

"What?" Mike yelped. "He told you?"

"Of course he told me," He could practically hear Lucas rolling his eyes on the other end of the phone, like it was the stupidest thing Mike could have asked. "I'm his friend, dude."

"He didn't tell me…" Mike mumbled, before he could think better of it. Lucas paused, and Mike suddenly felt like he'd said too much.

"He didn't?" Lucas asked, his voice unreadable. Mike felt worry twist in his gut.

"No," Mike admitted. "Is that bad?"

Fuck, it was, wasn't it? Will had told Lucas, he'd probably told Dustin and Max and El too. He'd willingly left Mike in the dark about it. Did he not trust him anymore? Did he think he'd judge him?

"You tell me, Wheeler," Lucas said, unaware of Mike's internal struggle. But, before Mike could say anything, he was changing the subject. "How did you find out then, if he never told you?"

"I— uh," Mike coughed awkwardly. "I walked in on them. Making out."

"Seriously?" Lucas sounded one part incredulous, and another part proud. "Damn, I didn't think Will had it in him."

Mike's stomach was in knots. He realized with a startling clarity that he should probably be reacting the same way Lucas was. The normal way. The platonic way. Instead, when he'd walked in on them, he felt nothing but white hot jealousy, and every time he'd thought back on it, he'd twist it around in his mind so that somehow it was him Will was kissing, not stupid Carlton.

"Yeah, well," Mike grumbled, knowing that he sounded petulant, but not caring enough to disguise it.

"What, do you not like the guy, or something?" Lucas immediately clocked his annoyance. "Will said he was a good guy."

"Of course he did," Mike huffed, bothered. "Will thinks everyone's a good guy. It's Will."

"Right…" He could practically feel Lucas judging him across the phone. "But you don't?"

"I don't—" Mike sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "I don't know. He's just— I think Will can do better."

Lucas was quiet for a long moment. So long, that Mike had to worry that Lucas had somehow caught on. That he could see right through him. For a second, Mike felt torn open, insides on display for everyone to see.

"And who do you think would be better for him, Mike?" Lucas' voice was careful, like he was talking to a cornered animal. Mike swallowed hard.

"I don't know. Someone who knows him better, at least. Someone who he didn't just meet like, last month or something. Someone who wouldn't run away without saying goodbye just because they're shy," Mike's words came out bitter. "Someone like—"

"You?" Lucas guessed, and Mike felt a spike of panic, before it devolved into a quiet sort of peace. Almost like relief.

He sighed loudly, his shoulders sagging from the pent up tension, closing his eyes and staring at the back of his eyelids and willing the thought of Will kissing someone else out of his mind.

"Yeah," He admitted quietly. He waited for the shame to come, but it never did. How could he feel shameful about this? It was Will, after all. "Yeah, someone like me."

"Oh," Lucas said, seemingly still processing their entire conversation. Mike felt a brief spike of worry, but Lucas had accepted Will without issue when he'd come out, so did he really have anything to worry about? Despite this, he felt himself start to spiral. Because what if Lucas did judge him. If not for this then for everything that had happened with El, because now it was obvious that Mike had been stringing her along for way longer than he should've, and maybe being gay was fine with Lucas, but that didn't mean being a shitty boyfriend was—

"I mean, that makes a lot of sense, honestly," Was what Lucas landed on, sounding utterly unsurprised. Definitely not angry. Mike let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Really?" Mike asked, and Lucas snorted at him.

"Dude, yes," Lucas laughed. "You two always had your weird thing going on, I never even tried to understand it. But this is a pretty good explanation."

"Then, do you—" Mike cut himself off, stumbling over his words, his heart thudding in his chest. "Do you think he feels the same?"

Lucas didn't say anything for a long, excruciating moment. Mike felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, like Lucas' next words would either ground him or send him reeling off the edge. He wasn't entirely sure which was worse.

"I think there's definitely something there," Lucas said thoughtfully. "But, Mike, he's dating someone else. I mean, that's a pretty clear signal, right?"

Mike, somehow, still felt like he was teetering on the ledge. Lucas' words repeated in his mind. Something there. Of course there was something there. Mike would have had to been blind not to see it. But he wasn't wrong, Will was actively dating someone else. The odds weren't exactly stacked in Mike's favour.

But had they ever been?

"Listen, I don't know the ins and outs of Will's feelings, only he does," Lucas continued. "If you want a clear answer, you're gonna have to talk to him. But you knew that already."

Mike nodded, before remembering Lucas couldn't see him.

"Yeah, I know," He said, his heart racing in his chest. "I, uh, I'll talk to him."

Lucas hummed in agreement, and they wrapped up the conversation there, both saying their goodbyes. Then, just before Mike hung up, Lucas spoke up again.

"And Mike?" He said.

"What's up?" Mike asked. Lucas was quiet for a moment.

"I'm proud of you, dude," He said, and Mike sort of felt like he was going to cry.

"I— uh, yeah," Mike coughed out, hoping Lucas couldn't hear how emotional the words made him through the phone. Mike knew he totally could. "Yeah, thanks, Lucas."

Then they were hanging up the phone, and Mike looked over at his bedside table. The alarm clock blinked at him, showing him that it was just past 11:30. Mike turned to face his wall, the one that led to the direction of Will's dorm room.

Would he still be up? Mike stared hard at the wall, like it could give him all the answers. Would he be with Carlton?

It was that thought that pushed him out of bed, pulling on his sneakers as he rushed out of his room and down the hall. Four doors down, and he was stood in front of Will's dorm. Light peeked out of the crack under his door, and Mike listened for a long moment for sounds of anything, but Will's room was seemingly silent.

Maybe he was working on a paper, or something. Maybe he was making out with Carlton.

Mike grimaced.

He knocked on the door lightly, and held his breath as he heard shuffling inside the room, before Will was swinging open the door, confusion clear on his face. His eyes softened when they landed on Mike, and Mike noticed that his bedroom was mercifully empty, besides from Will himself.

"Hey," He tried for casual. Will smiled, but seemed confused.

"Do you know what time it is?" He asked, incredulous, but not annoyed. Mike grinned despite himself.

"Like, 11:30," He smiled, and Will stared at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes and stepping back, inviting Mike in. Mike immediately took the offer, kicking off his sneakers and heading straight to Will's bed to plop down in it like he belonged there. Maybe he did. Maybe a part of him always belonged to Will Byers.

"Don't you have a 7am lecture?" Will asked, following him to his bed, grabbing his sketchbook and pencil off his desk as he went, sitting down next to Mike.

"Who cares?" Mike said, and he meant it. Tomorrow, he'd probably regret it when he walked into his lecture bleary-eyed and slept through half of it, but right now he was with Will, in his bed, so really. Who cares?

Will just huffed out a laugh, leaning against the headboard of his bed and shifting his sketchbook onto his lap, pencil moving across the paper in sure strokes. Mike watched him for a long moment.

"What are you working on?" He asked, nosy as ever. Will sent him a look, and Mike shifted to sit up next to Will, leaning over his shoulder to see the page. His side was pressed flushed against Will's, their elbows bumping every time Will shifted to draw another line on his page. Mike felt something in him settle.

"Holy shit, that's incredible," Mike breathed when he caught sight of the drawing. It was a still-life of what Mike immediately recognized as Will's own desk. It was just a sketch at this point, but Mike could already see the amount of care Will had put into the details. "You're totally getting an A."

"Mike," Will laughed, a flush creeping up his neck. Mike tried, and failed, not to stare. "I've barely even started it."

"So? It's probably already better than the rest of the classes' by a mile."

"Shut up," Will protested weakly, his face a gorgeous shade of crimson. Mike grinned, feeling giddy at the fact that he was the one to make Will look like that.

"Why?" He asked honestly. "It's definitely true."

"You're biased."

Mike stared hard at Will's side profile, mentally willing him to turn his head to meet Mike's eyes. Look at me, he wanted to urge. Look at me, look at me, look—

"Probably," He breathed, and Will finally looked over, looking surprised. When he turned his head, it put them practically nose-to-nose, and Mike could swear he felt Will's quiet gasp against his mouth, and his entire brain melted.

God, he really wanted to kiss him.

"You're so…" Will whispered, the minuscule space between them practically demanding it.

"So what?" Mike pressed, matching Will's whisper, and he was staring so intently into Will's eyes that it would've been impossible for him to miss the way they dropped, just for a moment, to somewhere below Mike's nose. Mike licked his lips on instinct, and Will's eyes darted back up to his.

"Stupid," Will scoffed, turning away from Mike, the tension between them dissipating in an instant. Mike tried not to feel disappointed. Failed miserably at it. "You're an idiot."

"For what, complimenting you?" Mike asked, his voice returning to a normal volume as Will shuffled off the bed. The space between them felt cold, now. "That's mean, Will."

"Maybe I'm mean," Will joked, placing his sketchbook back on his desk. Mike stared at his back as he tucked away his pencil into its case. The moment was well and truly over, he knew as much. He also knew that Will was about to kick him out, back to his own dorm, and Mike also knew that it was nearing midnight, and he should really just go to bed, but his eyes caught on Will's sketchbook and words were escaping him before he could think better of it.

"Can I look through it?" He asked, and Will's shoulders tensed slightly. Then, he was turning to send Mike a look. One that he couldn't quite decipher.

"Your sketchbook," Mike clarified when Will didn't make a move to answer. Will's hand hovered in the air by his book for a long moment, before his shoulders dropped and he shook his head to himself.

"Sure," He said, and Mike sat up straighter, because he hadn't expected Will to actually agree. He'd expected him to tell him to go to bed already, to stop bothering Will so he could go to bed, but maybe he was feeling the same way Mike was, and didn't want him to go yet.

Maybe he was feeling the same way Mike was.

"Cool," Mike said, aiming for casual and completely missing the mark. Will handed him his sketchbook, and Mike took it with gentle hands, like he was cradling something precious. He technically was, because Will's art had always been something precious to him.

Mike suddenly thought back to when they were first moving into their dorms, and Will walked into Mike's room while he was unpacking a box of clothes, only to stop short in his tracks, staring at Mike's wall with an unreadable expression.

"You brought those?" Will had asked, and Mike turned to follow his gaze, and he physically felt the way he flushed when he realized what he was talking about.

"Yeah," Mike said, him and Will both looking at the drawings that Will had made for him over the years thumb tacked to the wall above his desk. Some of them were nearly as old as their friendship. Others were more recent. But there was nothing from after California. Will hadn't given Mike art in a long time. "Of course."

Will was quiet for a long moment, like he was fighting some kind of internal battle. Mike didn't know what to make of it, so he just let Will stare at the art while Mike stared at him.

"That's all so old, Mike," Will laughed, but it sounded strained. "They're so bad."

"They're not," Mike argued instantly. "Besides, it's been a while since—" Mike paused, considering his words, before landing, somewhat pathetically, on, "It's been a while."

Will stared for another long moment. Then,

"I'll give you more," He said, and Mike felt like the sun had started shining from behind the clouds. Like birds were singing in his ears, or something equally as disgusting and romantic. "If your gonna have my art up, it should at least be good."

"It is good," Mike shot back, before he was biting down a grin. Will finally looked at him, and Mike felt himself smile harder. "But, yeah. I'd like that."

Mike was brought back to the present by Will swivelling his desk chair around to sit on it, observing Mike with a quiet thoughtfulness. Mike ran his hand over the cover of the sketchbook, all too aware of Will's eyes on him, before he was flipping it open.

The first drawing was a landscape he didn't recognize. Rolling hills and sparse clouds, sun beating down on the yellowed grass.

"California?" Mike asked, and Will just nodded wordlessly. Mike stared at the drawing for another long moment before carefully flipping the page.

It was mostly scenery, he noted. Whether it was Hawkins, or California, or their campus. Sometimes it was a classroom, or Will's own dorm. There were a few miscellaneous items, a chipped coffee mug, a vase of yellowed flowers. It was all so beautiful, so Will.

Mike was mumbling out comments, compliments, and Will just hummed in response to each one. Mike felt like he could die happy like this, in Will's bedroom at midnight, flipping through his sketchbook while Will watched him with a quiet sort of reverence.

Then, Mike flipped a page, and his heart froze in his chest.

"Oh, that's not—" Will was on his feet in an instant, snatching the book away from Mike, who just blinked in response, staring hard at where the sketchbook used to be. "I forgot that was in there."

Mike looked up to meet Will's eye slowly, his stomach twisting with something ugly and green. The blush on Will's face only made him feel more like he was about to throw up all over Will's dorm carpet.

"Was that Carlton?" Mike asked, his voice coming out shorter than he'd intended. Will grimaced slightly, embarrassed. He flipped the sketchbook shut and placed it down on his desk.

"Yeah, I…" Will looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. Mike tried to reign in his anger, because Will didn't deserve it. "I had a portrait assignment. He offered."

Mike clenched his jaw, swallowing hard.

"You could've asked me," He said. Will frowned, glancing over at him before immediately glancing away.

"It was supposed to be someone we hadn't—" Will cut himself off abruptly, his eyes widening at whatever it was he'd been about to admit. Mike sat up straighter, feeling like he was on the cusp of something, and he stared at Will imploringly.

"What?"

"It's— forget it, Mike," Will sighed. Mike opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Will was already closing himself off.

"Besides, Carlton's my— my boyfriend," Will made an odd expression at the word, and Mike swallowed again, frustration building in his chest. "It makes sense I'd draw him, right?"

Mike bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from saying something stupid. Something like, you should've drawn me, something like, I could treat you better, something like, can you just shut up about your boyfriend and kiss me stupid?

Mike didn't say any of it. Instead, he nodded jerkily, and Will let out a sigh.

"It's late, I should get to bed," Will said, and his voice had an air of finality to it, like Mike couldn't argue with him. Mike still wanted to. He selfishly wanted to ask to stay the night, wanted to sleep pressed against Will in his tiny bed, wanted to ask Will to never draw another person but him ever again.

"Yeah," Mike said instead. "I'll get out of your hair."

Two minutes later found Mike back in his own dorm, nothing in his mind but the memory of Will's side pressed against his, the delicate lines of countless of his drawings, and the way he'd made Carlton look beautiful in his drawing, like that was how he saw him.

Mike felt his stomach twist. He wondered what it would look like if Will drew him. He wished Will had come to him about the assignment, and not Carlton. He wished Carlton would disappear of the face of the earth, or something equally as drastic, so Mike could have Will all to himself again.

Selfish, he berated himself. But did he really care? He wanted Will. He wanted Will in a way that no one, especially Carlton, could even begin to understand, let alone replicate. He wanted to be selfish with Will.

Mike laid awake for a long time. When he finally drifted off, he slept straight through his 7am lecture.

When Mike had envisioned his spring break, it hadn't been this.

The whole party back together, sure. They'd decided to all meet in New York, mostly because none of them really wanted to go back to Hawkins. Also because Jonathan and Nancy had an apartment that they'd been invited to crash in, and Mike and Will's college was there, and it was almost a perfect midway point between all of their schools.

So, yeah, he'd been expecting to see his friends again, to have a heartfelt group hug reunion in Jonathan's kitchen, and maybe even to get a bit tipsy off the vodka that Nancy had tried to hide from them.

What he didn't expect was Will to get invited to a party by Carlton, of all people, and for him to invite the entire party to go with him.

But, there they were.

The apartment they were in definitely wasn't built for over thirty people, all milling about in various stages of drunkenness. Mike was honestly a bit worried about Dustin, who had been drinking the most out of any of them, but he'd said this wasn't his first rodeo, so Mike had to trust him.

Lucas and Max were next to him, El off somewhere with Dustin, under the guise of keeping him in check. Mike found the entire thing strangely funny, the idea of El trying to deal with a drunk Dustin was borderline ridiculous.

Will, despite being invited by Carlton, ended up practically glued to Mike's side the whole night. Mike had caught Carlton looking their way a few times, and he'd barely been able to bite down his smug grin. But, it didn't really matter, because Carlton always looked away, half annoyed but half embarrassed, like it was somehow embarrassing to be caught looking at Will.

Mike scoffed into his cup, and he felt Will eye him curiously, but he ignored him, downing the rest of his drink in one go.

"Well," Lucas spoke up, only slightly tipsy. "Are you ever gonna introduce us, Will?"

Mike grimaced, and Lucas sent him a look, elbowing him in the side.

"Huh?" Will asked, and Mike could tell he was already fast-approaching actual drunkenness. Mike tried not to dwell on the fact that Will was obviously upset at Carlton's dismissiveness of him, but his brain stuck to it and wouldn't let it go.

I could treat him so much better, his mind whispered, and Mike tried and failed to shake the thought from his brain.

"Carlton," Lucas clarified, raising an eyebrow. "You know, your boyfriend?"

Mike bit back a scoff. Lucas sent him a knowing look.

"Oh, right," Will sounded dejected. Mike immediately wanted to reach out, comfort him somehow, tell him to dump Carlton because he was an idiot anyway. "He's with his friends, though."

"So?" Max spoke up, an edge to her tone. "Don't his friends know you?"

"I mean, yeah, I guess," Will said, looking more saddened the longer he spoke. He stared hard at his cup. "They don't know about— us, though. Carlton doesn't want them to."

"So what, you're supposed to be like his secret?" Mike interjected, before he could stop himself. His voice was harsh, accusing, but not at Will. Never at Will. Will jolted, looking up to meet his eye, a flash of hurt on his face. Mike immediately folded.

"Sorry— I wasn't—" Mike stumbled over an apology, wanting nothing more than to soothe the hurt on Will's face. Will just shook his head, waving Mike's apology off.

"It's fine, you're right anyway," He muttered, and Mike wanted to scream. Will deserved so much better. "I can't really blame him, though. I know how scary it is. I just wish… I don't know. I wish it wasn't like this."

It doesn't have to be, Mike wanted to say. It doesn't have to be.

"Yeah, that's rough, man," Lucas spoke up before Mike could say something stupid. Like he knew Mike was about to say something stupid.

"It's ridiculous," Max added, looking at Will thoughtfully. "You should break up with him."

Mike had never thought that Max was an angel sent from heaven until this exact moment. Because finally, someone got it. Someone else, someone less biased, someone saw.

"Max," Will sighed, forcing out a quiet chuckle like she'd been joking. It hadn't been a joke, though, not really. Mike wasn't just projecting, either, he could tell Max was at least somewhat serious. "It's fine, really. I don't want to, like, force him out of the closet if he's not ready."

"If he's not ready maybe he shouldn't be dating someone," Mike pointed out, trying to sound neutral. It definitely didn't work. Will let out another lifeless chuckle.

"It's not that easy, Mike," Will said, like Mike couldn't understand.

"It could be," He said, and Lucas cleared his throat beside him, like he was trying to silently tell Mike to shut his mouth before he said something he'd regret when he was sober. Will just looked at him, long and hard, and Mike's mouth felt dry. Then Will was shaking his head, averting his eyes, and staring back into the crowd of people. Back at Carlton. Jealousy clawed at Mike's chest.

"I don't exactly have options," Will admitted quietly. Mike nearly grabbed his shoulders and started shaking him. "I mean, I have to take what I can get. And Carlton is nice."

"Will—" Mike started, his mind screaming at him to say something, anything, to make realize he doesn't have to settle. He shouldn't have to settle for someone who didn't want him enough to have him.

"Mike," Lucas grabbed his elbow suddenly, turning him away from Will. "Come with me to get a refill."

Mike opened his mouth to protest, but then Lucas was fixing him with a look, and he relented immediately. If there was one thing that over a decade of friendship with Lucas had taught him, it was that his friend was almost always right, and Mike was almost always wrong.

So, he let Lucas drag him off to the kitchen, leaving Will with Max to keep staring longingly at his boyfriend, his boyfriend who wouldn't even fucking talk to him at the party he'd invited him to.

Mike was going to go crazy.

"Dude, you need to calm down," Lucas told him the moment they close the kitchen door behind them, blocking out the music and noise of the crowd. Luckily, the kitchen was empty besides them. Mike wrinkled his nose in annoyance, turning to refill his cup at the punch bowl.

"It's so stupid," He muttered in response. "Will could do so much better. And he doesn't even know it. It's so stupid, Lucas. Carlton is such an asshole."

"I'm not gonna argue with you on that," Lucas relented, and Mike felt a surge of gratefulness that they could at least agree on that. "But Will is still dating him. And you're drunk. If you're gonna say something to him about whatever mess is going on inside that head of yours, you should at least be sober."

Mike knew he was right, but it didn't stop his chest from aching with how badly he wanted to whisk Will away from Carlton, from that party, from everything. To tell him that he deserved more, that he could have more, that Mike was right there.

"And you have to stop making moves on him when he's literally in a relationship," Lucas said sternly, and Mike glared at him, affronted.

"Yeah, a relationship where he doesn't even look at Will," He snarked, and Lucas just stared at him until Mike relented. "I know, okay? I know. I'll be calm. I can be calm."

Lucas kept looking at him.

"Jesus, you're totally in love with him, dude," He said, and the words landed softly in Mike's chest. Beyond the jealousy, beyond the anger, beyond the refusal to even imagine that someone else could treat Will better than Mike, he knew Lucas was right. Painfully right.

"Yeah," He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he brought his cup to his lips, taking a long swig. "Tell me about it."

Lucas shot him a pitying look, before he rolled his eyes and turned to leave the kitchen.

"Pull yourself together, Wheeler," Lucas said as he passed by him, patting him on the back sympathetically. "We'll be out there."

When the door shut behind Lucas, Mike stood there for a long moment, staring at the punch bowl and reconsidering all of his life choices. At least, all of the one's that led him here, to Will having a boyfriend that wasn't him.

He downed his drink and refilled it again before following Lucas back out to the party.

It had to be after midnight when Carlton finally decided to stop pretending Will didn't exist. Mike wasn't sure which was worse, honestly, because now he was standing by the wall, alone, watching Will talk with Carlton and his friends, watching him laugh when Carlton said something, watching him nudge Carlton's shoulder with his own.

Mike's hand tightened on his drink, glaring holes into the back of Carlton's head.

It wasn't fair, that he just got to pick up and put down Will whenever he wanted. That he could string him along like that, make him spend half the night miserable and embarrassed, only to be the one that Will ended up flirting with when he decided he could handle it now, or something equally as stupid.

"What is wrong with you?" El's voice came from his left, and Mike nearly jumped, spinning to face her. Her question had been accusing, but her tone and the look on her face were just confused, like she couldn't understand why Mike was miserable, but she knew he was.

He supposed it made sense, he really shouldn't be miserable, given everything. He got to hang out with the party again, he was on a blissfully essay-free spring break, and Will was there, so.

"Nothing, I just—" Mike bit the inside of his cheek, casting his eyes back toward Will. He watched the way Carlton's hand landed on the small of Will's back, just for a moment before he was pulling it away. Mike's expression soured.

"You don't like Carlton," El said, not asking, not accusing. Just noticing. She was always good at noticing. Mike was well past tipsy at this point, and he'd spent the better part of the last three hours utterly pissed off and jealous, and he didn't feel like even trying to put up a front anymore.

"Of course I don't," He sighed, frustration clear in his voice. "He's a dick. He thinks he's, what? Entitled to Will whenever he wants him, and then when he doesn't he can just toss Will aside like it's nothing? He doesn't even know how good he has it. Will deserves better."

El watched him for a long moment, considering.

"I agree," She finally said, and Mike felt relief flood through him. Of course El would get it, she always got it. Not to mention she was Will's sister, so obviously she could see how bad Carlton was for him. "But I think I don't like him for different reasons than you."

Mike's breath hitched. He didn't meet El's eyes, instead bringing his drink to his lips.

He suddenly felt awkward. It wasn't as though he didn't want El to know how he felt about Will, nor that he thought she didn't already have a sneaking suspicion, but it was still weird. Talking to his ex girlfriend about the fact that he was head over heels for her brother? Yeah. Weird.

"I don't really understand," El said slowly when Mike made no move to answer. "Why didn't Will just date you?"

Mike choked on his drink.

"What?"

"Well, he likes you, right?" El pointed out, like it was obvious. Mike's brain was spinning. He stared at El like she'd grown a second head.

"What?"

"You didn't know?" El asked, like it was a simple truth of the universe and Mike was a real dud for not realizing sooner. Like, the sky was blue, the grass was green, and Will liked Mike.

"When Will told us he was dating someone, I actually thought it was you," El mentioned, like it was casual, like it was obvious. "I was so surprised it wasn't. I figured you must've talked about it, and decided it wouldn't work out, or something."

"We didn't," Mike whispered, his heart pounding in his throat. "Do you really think he likes me?"

El shot him a look, like he was an idiot. Mike certainly felt like one right now, standing there while Will was on the other side of the room with his boyfriend.

"Mike, do you really think he doesn't?"

"I…"

"If you really think he doesn't, you should talk to him about it," El said, like any of this was that simple. But it was startlingly similar to Lucas' advice, and when Mike thought back to it now, he had completely forgotten the part about them having this conversation when they were sober.

Mike's eyes dart back to Will, catching the way he leaned toward Carlton, just subtle enough for it to mean nothing to unsuspecting eyes, but just unsubtle enough for it to send a stab of pain straight through Mike's chest.

"I've gotta go," He choked out, and El sent him a concerned look. "Bathroom."

With that, Mike stumbled out of the living room, away from Will, down a deserted hallway and into the tiny ensuite bathroom in the apartment, finding it blissfully empty. He slammed the door behind him, bracing his hands on the sink as he stared at his own reflection.

"Be cool," He told himself, but his heart was pounding out of his chest and his mind was stuck replaying El's words over and over again, like a broken record.

"Do you really think he doesn't?"

What if he did? Mike's mind paused briefly at the notion. What if Will did like him? What if, all this time, he'd been waiting for Mike? What if Carlton was like, some kind of rebound? What if Will was trying to get over him?

Mike's head felt fuzzy from more than just the alcohol. And he had to talk to Will. Right now.

Mike turned to reach for the doorknob, before it was swinging open to reveal—

"Will," Mike whispered, staring at Will in a way that surely revealed too much, but Will was staring at Mike too, his expression just as open. Mike's breath slowed in his chest, and something slotted into place.

"Are you okay?" Will asked immediately, his words slightly slurred. He took a clumsy step into the bathroom and Mike instinctively stepped back, his back bumping into the sink.

"Huh?" He asked, not entirely comprehending what Will was saying. He was drunk, he was definitely drunk, and Will was taking another step toward him, the bathroom door falling shut behind him with a quiet click. Mike swallowed hard.

"Do you not feel well?" Will continued, reaching out toward Mike, before his hands froze mid air and he seemed to reel himself back in. Mike just stared.

"Do you really think he doesn't?"

"I just saw you run to the bathroom, I thought you were gonna be sick, or something," Will tried to explain himself, but Mike's mind was entirely elsewhere. Lost somewhere between the heat of Will's body that he could practically feel from how close they were standing and the soft pink of Will's lips as he worried them between his teeth.

Mike wanted to touch him. He wanted to press their bodies together. He wanted to close the distance. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted—

"Mike?"

"Will," Mike practically whined, and in any other situation, he'd be embarrassed, but right now he was just desperate. Will's eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he opened his mouth to reply, and that was all Mike could take.

One moment, they were standing a foot apart, and the next, Mike was crashing into him with the force of a tsunami, his hands gripping Will's hips and his head crashing onto Will's shoulder, their torsos pressing together tightly. He felt more than heard Will gasp, his own hands coming up to grip at Mike's back and shoulders as the force of Mike's embrace crushed them back against the bathroom door with a low thud.

Mike breathed in the scent of him, nose nuzzling Will's neck, his mouth brushing against the skin there. He heard Will's breath hitch, and the air felt ten degrees hotter.

"Mike, what are you—?" Will started, but Mike wasn't listening anymore. Not with Will this close, with the warmth of his body pressed against him, with his hands on Mike. He dragged his nose across Will's neck, before replacing it with his lips, brushing kisses across his skin.

Will gasped, one of his hands grasping Mike's hair instinctively, tugging slightly. Mike felt like he was outside of his body, like he was getting everything he'd ever wanted and it still wasn't enough.

"Mike," Will whimpered, and Mike planted one more firm kiss on his neck, before lifting his head to meet his eyes.

Will's expression was dark, heavy, and Mike felt like the air was knocked out of him at the intensity of it all. He licked his lips and watched Will's eyes track the movement.

"Do you really think he doesn't?"

"Can I—"

Mike's question was cut off by Will surging forward and pressing their lips together. Mike gasped into the kiss, immediately reciprocating. His hands slid up Will's sides as he pressed them impossibly closer, kissing him harder, like he could pour everything he'd been feeling for the past few weeks, months, years, into Will's mouth.

For a moment, everything was perfect. Mike was home, Will was in his arms, under his hands, all over his mouth. Will's hand cupped Mike's jaw, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue darting out to brush against Mike's lips, and Mike was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Then, a rush of cold air, and Will was pulling away.

Mike opened his eyes, confused, because why would he be doing anything other than kissing Will right now? When he met Will's eyes though, his chest squeezed.

Will looked devastated. Like Mike had just broken something deep within him, something that he couldn't fix. And there was guilt there, too, and Mike suddenly remembered the fact that Will was a taken man.

"I can't— I can't do this," Will's voice cracked. Mike felt it in his chest. "I can't— Carlton."

Mike felt the now-familiar sting of jealousy at his name. He hated it. He hated that somehow, even in this moment that was supposed to be just him and Will, he was there.

"Fuck Carlton," Mike's voice was harsher than he'd meant it to be, and Will frowned at him, displeased.

"Mike…"

"I'm serious, Will," Mike whispered, reigning in his anger at the sadness in Will's eyes. He leaned forward, almost unable to help himself, wanting nothing more than to make Will understand.

"I'm serious, he's nothing, Will. Don't you get it? He's nothing," Mike held his eyes, trying to communicate everything he was too scared to say out loud. "This is everything."

"Mike," Will's eyes hardened. He pushed Mike back, hands firm against his shoulders. Mike let him, because he'd let Will do anything to him, but he didn't like it.

"I'm serious, Mike," Will's face crumpled. "I can't do this. Not with you. Even if there was no Carlton."

Mike felt something in him crack, then shatter at the words.

"Oh," He whispered. His throat felt like sandpaper. He got the distinct feeling that he was about to cry. "You don't— you don't like me?"

Maybe this was some form of karma. Maybe this was for all those years of El's life that he'd wasted, leading her on without ever being able to give her what she actually wanted. Too scared to admit the truth, even to himself.

Will's expression fell at Mike's words. For a long moment, he just stared at him, devastated. Like Mike was trying to ruin him.

"Mike," He warned, his voice raw. Tears welled in his eyes, and Mike knew his expression matched Will's. His next words broke something deep in Mike's chest.

"You're too late."

Mike didn't say anything. He couldn't. There was no way he could speak around the lump in his throat. There was no way that if he opened his mouth he wouldn't start sobbing, or something equally as pathetic, like begging Will to give him a chance, to at least let him try.

"I'm sorry," Will's voice shook, and tears were falling freely now. Mike could do nothing but watch as Will slipped out from between him and the door, pulling it open and disappearing down the hallway. He didn't look back.

Fuck. Mike felt his own cheeks wet with tears. Will's words replayed in his head over and over, almost mocking him.

"You're too late."

Fuck.

"You look like hell," Lucas said when Mike finally worked up the courage to leave the bathroom. He'd tried to wipe away his tears, but they had just kept coming, and he'd ended up holed up in the bathroom for at least fifteen minutes, waiting until his eyes ran themselves dry. He splashed water on his face and pretended that his heart hadn't been crushed inside his ribcage, fixed his hair from where, just minutes before, Will's fingers had been mussing it up, and stepped out of the bathroom.

"Thanks," His voice was raw. It couldn't be more obvious that he had been crying. "Where's Will?"

During Mike's fifteen minutes of sobbing in a stranger's bathroom, he'd come to the intensely clear conclusion that, even if Will didn't want him how Mike wanted him, that didn't mean he was going to let him go. He could be the best friend. He'd do anything not to lose Will completely.

"He left with Carlton," Lucas said carefully, like Mike was a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. Mike registered the words, and just felt tired. A bone-deep exhaustion that threatened to knock him off his feet.

"Oh," He said, sullen. Lucas watched him for a long moment, before reaching out to place a hand on Mike's shoulder.

"Look, I don't know what happened between you two, but Will was— he was messed up, man. And you don't look any better off. I'll get the rest of the party, and let's just go back to Jonathan's, okay?"

Mike, for a moment, felt like he might start crying again. Instead he just swallowed hard and nodded at Lucas.

It was another ten minutes before the party had collected themselves and were putting on their shoes and coats. Dustin was absolutely shitfaced, so at least he didn't have to worry about him sending Mike confused but concerned looks. Max and El, on the other hand, seemed to be full of them. Though, Max's was more on the accusing side of things.

"What did you do, Wheeler?" She asked once they'd made it outside and were walking down the street. Despite it being well into the night, the streets were still somewhat busy. New York never really slept.

"Max," Lucas warned, but Mike really didn't care. He was exhausted, and heartbroken, and he had just gotten to know what it was like to have Will but not to keep him. His lip wobbled slightly, but tears never gathered in his eyes. He really must've cried them dry.

"It's fine, Lucas," Mike sighed. He appreciated Lucas sticking up for him, but in the end, he had fucked up. He'd been the one to initiate whatever happened between them, knowing Will had a boyfriend. He'd been the one who took too long to understand, to recognize his own feelings. Will had liked him, El wasn't wrong about that. He just… didn't anymore.

Mike didn't know why that thought hurt more than Will having never liked him in the first place.

"You're too late."

Mike pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, willing himself to not break down right there. Lucas looked at him, pity clear on his face, and Mike hated it. Max pursed her lips in annoyance, and El just kept staring at him, confused. Like she didn't understand why it hadn't worked out. Like any of this was as simple as she'd made it sound.

Conversation buzzed around them, but the party was silent. Like they all knew that something serious had happened, like they all knew that Mike had fucked up beyond fixing. It was a long walk back to Jonathan and Nancy's apartment.

As they stepped inside, Nancy met them at the door. Her eyes were sharp with annoyance and accusation, and they flitted across everyone, in various states of disarray, before landing on Mike.

She knew. She had to know.

"Do you realize what time it is?" She asked, tapping her foot in frustration. Lucas shrugged sheepishly, and Mike sort of felt like crying again. Nancy's eyebrows furrowed at whatever expression he was making, worry flashing in her eyes, before she was letting out a huff, turning back toward the living room.

"We set up sleeping bags for everyone," She said, pausing as she glanced back at Mike. "Will's staying in the guest room."

Mike felt a burst of relief at the confirmation that Will was here, safe, with his brother. Not at Carlton's place, not alone at his dorm. Nancy watched him closely.

"There's aspirin in the cupboard," She sent a pointed look at Dustin, who was draped over Lucas' shoulder, half-asleep. "Leave some by his bedside for when he wakes up."

With that, she turned and headed down the hall toward her and Jonathan's shared bedroom. Mike watched her go, noticed that the guest room door was shut tight, no light shining out from beneath. Will must already be asleep.

"Mike," El's voice interrupted his staring. He tore his eyes from the door to look at El. She reached out, grasping his hand with her own and squeezing it once before letting it go. "I'm sorry it didn't go well."

Mike felt like crying. He just shook his head at her, pressing his lips together. It's not your fault, he wanted to say. El looked at him like she understood, before she turned to head toward the living room.

Mike turned away from the hall, looking toward the living room, where his friends were currently using the power of teamwork to get Dustin inside one of the sleeping bags. Max was muttering in annoyance and Lucas was jamming Dustin's arm into the sleeping bag, only for Dustin to fling it back out and Lucas to shove it in again.

When El joined them, she helped Lucas, timing it so she zipped the bag just as Lucas shoved his limbs inside, and they finally managed to trap Dustin in the bag, sitting back on their haunches and sharing exasperated looks.

"Mike?" Nancy's voice cut through his staring, and he spun around to look at her. She was standing there, just outside of her bedroom door, looking at him like she knew. Mike felt his resolve start to crack.

"Hey, Nance," He tried for casual. It came out strained. Nancy just nodded at him, motioning him to follow her to the bathroom, so he did.

"What happened?" Nancy asked once they'd reached the bathroom. Mike didn't reply for a long moment, and Nancy reached for a box of tissues. Mike hadn't even realized he was tearing up again until she handed it to him, and he pressed his lips together and stared at the ground, willing it to swallow him.

When Mike didn't reply, Nancy pressed anyway, investigative reporter and all.

"Did you fight with Will?"

Mike almost laughed at that. Because it wasn't a fight, not really. Will had just told him that Mike had waited too long and now he could never have the only thing he'd ever really known how to want. And how could Mike have fought him on that? Will had made himself very clear.

"I guess," Was what he said, wiping his eyes with a tissue harshly, his voice cracking over his words.

"Mike, you can talk to me," Nancy said quietly. This wasn't really something they did, the Wheeler's. Heart-to-hearts. They weren't like Jonathan and Will. But he could tell Nancy was trying. "About anything."

"Do you know?" He found himself whispering. Nancy tilted her head at him, like she knew she could get more out of him than that. Mike swallowed hard. "About— about Will?"

Nancy frowned at him. Mike didn't want to say anything else, wasn't sure he even could without breaking down again. She watched him quietly, considering. Then, it seemed to click. He watched her eyes widen in realization, before softening into something close to pity.

"Oh, Mike," She whispered, and before Mike could say anything, she pulled him into a hug.

Mike could probably count on one hand the amount of times he'd hugged Nancy. This was the first time it had happened when the world wasn't ending. Though, to Mike, it might as well have been.

He hugged her back, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing down his sobs. Fuck, he was such a mess. This whole thing was such a mess.

When Nancy pulled back, she looked at Mike. Really looked at him. Mike shifted, not entirely sure what to make of her expression.

"Don't tell dad?" Mike cautioned, half-joking, and Nancy just laughed, her own eyes pricked with tears.

"Mike, you know I love you no matter what, right?" She said, strangely sincere. Mike's breath hitched. "And, honestly, it makes a lot of sense, in hindsight."

"It does?" He asked weakly. Nancy just nodded, smiling sadly at him.

"You two were always… different. Closer than anyone else. You know, back when you were in kindergarten, you actually told me you were going to marry him."

Mike choked out a laugh. "You're so full of shit."

"I'm serious, Mike," She laughed along with him. "Dad nearly had a conniption."

"I did not say that in front of dad," Mike exhaled in disbelief, and Nancy just smiled at him.

"You totally did."

They stand in silence for a long moment, just long enough to make Mike remember everything that had happened that night. What Will had said.

"I fucked up, Nance," Mike sighed, closing his eyes. "I really, really fucked up."

Nancy watched him for a long moment, considering.

"You know, Mike," She started slowly, carefully. "You survived the apocalypse with him. You'll survive this, too."

Mike felt his eyes grow wet again. Jesus, he'd never spent this much time crying before.

"I love him, Nancy," He whispered, the confession tearing out of him, taking a piece of his chest with it. Nancy looked at him, understanding.

"Those Byers boys, huh?" She said softly, and Mike just laughed wetly.

"Mike, I don't know what happened between you two," Nancy said, suddenly serious. "But I'm serious. There's never been anything you two haven't been able to come back from. Not anything. That's something special. Don't give up on it."

All Mike could do was nod, letting Nancy's words wash over him.

She was right. Maybe they could never be the same as they were. Maybe they could never be everything that Mike wanted them to be, but he wouldn't lose Will. He couldn't. It just wasn't in the cards for them. He wanted Will with him for the long haul. No matter what.

When Mike finally slipped out of the bathroom, the light under Will's door was still out. In the living room, his friends were splayed out on the floor, all out cold. Max and Lucas were cuddled together, El on Max's other side and Dustin next to her. Mike glanced up at the vacant couch with the final sleeping back spread out on it.

His heart squeezed at the gesture, and all he could do was climb into the sleeping bag and close his eyes, letting sleep overcome him.

Spring break came to an uneventful close. A week of classes passed. They didn't talk about the party, the bathroom, the kiss. Mike tried to pretend it wasn't eating him alive.

Mike knew Will was having issues with Carlton, even though he'd never outright said it. Mike also knew that he should probably feel at least somewhat guilty about it, about any of it, but he didn't. Not really. Carlton never deserved Will, even if Will wouldn't choose him, Mike knew he also shouldn't settle for Carlton.

But Mike was really in no place to say anything about it to him, so he didn't. He let Will pretend that everything was fine, he let himself pretend that everything was fine, because at least they'd reached some kind of unspoken agreement on one thing: they couldn't lose each other.

And if that meant that Mike had to go to sleep each night in a dorm room four doors down from Will's, remembering with shocking vividness the feeling of Will's lips against his, the feeling of his hands on Mike's body, the feeling of his breath against Mike's chin, well, so be it. Mike wasn't losing Will, not for anything.

Mike felt dead on his feet as he dragged himself back to his dorm from his evening lecture, and really, there should be a law against having a college lecture run until 9pm, or something. Honestly, if Will hadn't wanted to go to college, Mike might've just skipped out on it entirely.

But, Will had wanted to go. And Mike would follow Will anywhere. 9pm lectures be damned.

Mike didn't mean to linger at Will's door, but he found himself there anyway. The light was on, and he could hear a muffled voice inside, just Will's. He sounded on edge, which was what made Mike pause, at least, that was what he told himself. Because Will was still his best friend, and he still wanted to be there for him when he was struggling.

"Obviously they know!" Will's voice came through the door. A silence followed, and Mike realized Will was on the phone.

"You're kidding," Will's voice was harsh, disappointed. Another silence.

"Fine, whatever. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Mike had to strain to hear the words through the door, fully aware that he was eavesdropping but not able to find it in himself to care. He heard Will hang up the phone with a click, before he let out a loud sigh.

Mike was knocking before he could think better of it.

Will opened the door, and Mike immediately saw the frustration in his eyes, the hurt. Mike's stomach swooped at the emotion on Will's face, and he immediately reached out, his hand stopping just short of Will's shoulder.

"Are you— did something happen?" He asked, and Will just stared at him, his eyebrows pulled together, before he let out a sigh, letting the tension drop from his frame. Mike retracted his hand from where it was hanging awkwardly between them.

"I'm fine, Mike," Will sighed again, but he stepped back to silently invite Mike in. Mike swallowed and took the invitation, stopping short at Will's bed, because suddenly he didn't know if he was welcome there anymore. He eventually landed on the desk chair, sitting somewhat awkwardly while Will watched him. Mike could swear that beneath the hurt and anger, something in Will looked amused.

Will moved to sit on the edge of his bed, looking at Mike for a long moment. Silence stretched.

"It's Carlton," Will finally admitted, and Mike snapped his head up to look at him. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to say anything that would make Will close up again, and just looked at him.

Will stared back, before he let out a long sigh and patted the bed next to him.

"Just— come here, Mike," He said, his voice quiet. Mike didn't need to be told twice. He immediately stood, crossing the distance and sitting next to Will, close enough that their knees brushed.

Will, impossibly, leaned into the touch, shifting closer to Mike like it was second nature. Mike felt his heart kick unfairly in his chest.

Best friends, he reminded himself silently. Will needed him as a best friend, and Mike needed to be there.

"He's being— difficult, I guess," Will sighed again. "He's mad I told my mom and Jonathan about us. He's acting like I— like I outed him, or something. But I'm half of this relationship too, you know? I don't want to keep stuff like that from them."

Mike felt a surge of anger toward Carlton, because Will deserved so much better than that. He kept his lips pressed tightly shut though, because he knew Will had more to get off his chest.

"And he's just so— up and down," Will frowned. "Like, one second, he wants us to be inseparable, and then the next he's pulling away. And I know he's just dealing with his own stuff, and none of this is easy, but I just— I want it to be. Easy."

Mike swallowed hard. There was so much to say, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to give Will. He could be so good to Will, if he'd just let him. He'd yell from the rooftops that he loved Will Byers, everyone else be damned. Hell, he'd tell his own father that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together, it didn't even matter if he disowned him. He wanted Will so much his teeth ached.

"I just hate feeling like I'm a secret. It's like I'm back to where I was when I was fifteen," Will whispered. Mike pressed their knees together.

"You're not," He finally said, his voice sturdy. Will didn't look at him. "Will, hey, listen to me," Mike urged, and Will finally glanced up to meet his eyes.

"You deserve to be loved out loud," Mike said, reverent. And he'd never meant anything more than just that. Because no matter how much Mike wanted to be the one to love Will right, he knew that it was too late for that. But that didn't mean Will had to settle.

Will stared at him, looking on the verge of tears at the words. Like he'd never even considered them. Like, even in his imagination, he could never really have that. Something in Mike's chest cracked at the realization that Will really didn't know. That Will really didn't think that was possible for him.

"Mike," Will whispered, his voice cracking on his name, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I'm serious, Will," Mike continued, because Will had to understand. No matter how humiliating it might be for Mike, Will needed to know. "You deserve everything you want. You deserve someone who's not afraid of loving you. You deserve someone who knows themselves and knows what they want and wants you. I know you think you have to settle, that you don't have options, but you do, Will."

Mike paused, taking a breath.

"You just have to go out there and find them."

Will's face crumpled, tears finally falling, and it hit Mike that he hadn't seen him cry since that night at the party. Mike opened his arms instinctively, and Will fell into them, burying his face in Mike's shoulder as he cried. Mike held him close, breathing him in, rubbing his hands soothingly across Will's back. Will shook in his arms, but didn't make a sound. He'd always been a quiet crier.

"I love you, you know," Mike whispered, pressing the words into Will's hair. Will shuddered in his arms, and Mike couldn't shut up if he wanted to. "I love you so much, you deserve everything Will, and I know there's someone out there who can give that to you. Don't give up on that, okay?"

Mike swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sting of tears at his eyes. This wasn't about him, it really wasn't, but he felt strangely like he was letting Will go, and a childish part of him wanted to scream at him not to, wanted to be the only one who got the privilege of loving Will Byers.

"Mike," Will pulled back, his eyes bleary. Their hands stayed on each other, and Will didn't go far, just close enough that Mike could meet his eyes. "Do you mean it?"

Mike stared at Will, half-affronted, half-fond.

"Of course I do," He whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know there's more for you out there."

Will looked helpless, for a moment, like Mike didn't understand what he was saying. His eyes were fond, almost disbelieving. Mike couldn't look away.

"No, I meant— what you said about… your feelings. For me," Will clarified. "You— you love me?"

Mike's chest caved in at the very thought of Will not knowing, not believing him when he said it. He didn't think about his next words, overtaken with the need to prove himself to Will, to prove his feelings to be true.

"I don't know how to exist without you, Will," He whispered. Will stared at him, wide-eyed. "I've never loved anything the way I love you."

"Mike," Will's voice cracked, and Mike just smiled sadly at him. Because Will believed him now, Mike was sure of it. And this was the part where Will thanked him for his words, where Will told him they'd always be friends, where Mike had to swallow this impossible ball of love for Will and pretend it wouldn't haunt him for the rest of his life.

"I've been in love with you since we were twelve years old," Was what Will said instead. Mike's brain screeched to a halt.

"What?"

Will laughed, fond and happy and free, and he stared at Mike like he was an idiot. Mike stared back, his heart thrashing against his ribcage, as if it were trying to claw it's way to Will.

"It's always been you, Mike," Will admitted, having the nerve to look embarrassed, as if Mike hadn't just said everything he had. "I love you so much it scares me."

Present tense, Mike noted, feeling far away from his body. Not loved, but love. Will loves him. Right now, Will loves him.

"I— I learned," Will breathed. "I learned how to live without you. How to swallow it all down, how to push it all away. It sucked."

Mike was quiet, letting Will's words wash over him, not entirely sure any of this was real.

"I know how to exist without you, but I don't want to. Not ever again."

"Will," Mike breathed, his eyes wet with tears, and Will just laughed, breathless, leaning his forehead against Mike's. Their breaths mingled in the space between them, and Mike stared and stared and stared.

"I lied," Will admitted quietly. Mike couldn't tear his eyes away from Will's. He couldn't do anything except fully exist in this moment, with Will smiling at him and telling him he loved him.

"What?"

"I lied," Will repeated around a smile. "You're not too late. I think I'd wait for you forever."

Mike felt something settle in his chest, something warm and soft and bright. All of his insecurities, all of his self-deprecation, all of his disappointment and frustration vanishing in an instant.

"You would?" He asked, because he had to be sure. Will's smile told him everything he needed to know.

"I'm an idiot," Will laughed, and Mike couldn't help but snort. "I was so— scared. I was scared it wasn't the same for you. That you didn't want me as bad as I wanted you." Mike nearly laughed at the very concept. As if Mike didn't want Will more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. As if Will wasn't the one thing Mike had ever been really, truly sure about.

"That's impossible," Mike whispered into the space between them. "You're impossible."

Will's eyes softened, and for a long moment, they just looked at each other, their conversation sinking in gently, filling the cracks in their friendship like a warm embrace.

Then, Mike caught the way Will's eyes flicked down to his mouth, and he immediately felt his heart rate pick up again in his chest, his mind flashing back to that night weeks ago, to the two of them pressed together in a tiny bathroom, to Will's breath on his lips, and Mike just—

Will's eyes flickered back up to Mike's, and Mike felt his resolve crack.

He wasn't even entirely sure if he'd been the one to initiate it, but suddenly, they were kissing again. It was somehow just like the last time, and also something completely new.

The intensity from that night was dialed down, their mouths meeting softer, more sure. Mike felt his stomach flutter happily, at the realization that he got to have this now. He wasn't in a stranger's crowded bathroom, trying to pour out everything he was feeling into Will's mouth, everything he was too scared to say out loud.

No, now, their lips slotted together like they belonged there. Now, Mike's hands were steady when they cupped Will's face, when his thumb pressed against the hinge of Will's jaw. Will sighed softly against his mouth, parting his jaw to allow Mike room to dive into his lips, and Mike could die happy like this.

They separated for a moment for air, but they stayed close, breathing into each other's mouths. Mike felt a wave of giddiness wash over him, unable to stop himself from breathing out a quiet laugh at it all, the joy in his chest needing some form of escape.

"I love you," He whispered again, pressing the words against Will's mouth. Will leaned in, but Mike was already pulling back. He revelled in the way Will's mouth chased his. "Will, I love you."

"Mike," Will whispered, emotional. "I—"

Mike kissed him before he could get his words out. Will made a half-annoyed noise against his mouth, but Mike couldn't care less. He got to kiss Will now, whenever he wanted, which he was starting to worry would be all the time. He didn't really know how he was supposed to not spend every waking moment kissing Will like this, now that he was actually allowed to.

"Oh my god," Mike realized suddenly, breaking the kiss and catching Will's eyes with a deadly seriousness that hadn't been there a moment ago. Will looked confused, and kissed stupid, and Mike almost leaned right back in, before his previous thought was back in full force.

"Will," He whispered fiercely. "You need to break up with him."

"Huh?" Will asked dumbly, eyes still locked on Mike's lips. Mike tried not to let it do crazy things to him, but he was only a man, and it was Will.

"Carlton," He forced out, the name tasting like poison on his tongue. "You need to dump him, like, yesterday."

Will started, as if he'd completely forgotten about Carlton's existence at all. Mike felt a wave of pride at the thought, the idea that he could kiss Will and make him forget about his stupid boyfriend.

"Mike," Will said, voice soft. Mike reached blindly toward the landline on Will's beside.

"Dump him right now or I'll die," Mike whispered harshly, and Will watched him for another long moment, before huffing out a laugh and shifting on the bed to reach past Mike, crowding into his space as he grasped the phone out of Mike's hand.

Mike sat with bated breath as Will dialed the number, tried not to get annoyed that Will seemingly knew it by heart, but then he heard the quiet ringing of the phone, and Will was backing off of him slightly, the long cord dangling between them.

They stared at each other for a long moment, phone ringing quietly in Will's ear.

For a terrifying instant, Mike worried Carlton wouldn't pick up, and then Will would do something chivalrous like tell Mike they couldn't kiss again until he actually broke up with him, and Mike would actually die.

Then, the line clicked to life, and a voice came through, muffled.

Both Mike and Will straightened immediately, not breaking eye contact.

"Hey, it's— uh, it's Will," Will stuttered out, clearly feeling awkward, and probably at least a bit guilty. Just because Mike didn't feel guilty about any of this didn't mean Will wouldn't, he always cared for people more than enough for the both of them.

The line was quiet, before Carlton was responding with something Mike couldn't pick up on, but he could hear the confusion in his tone.

Mike's hand found Will's leg, squeezing once, and Will took a breath and nodded at Mike, smiling weakly at him.

"Actually, I needed to talk to you, sorry," Will said, and Mike's fingers tightened on his leg. He leaned in slightly, straining to hear Carlton's reply, but Will just shook his head at him, biting down a fond smile and pushing Mike back gently by the shoulder, mouthing something that looked like privacy.

Mike bristled immediately, because he and Will didn't do privacy. He was certain Will caught the grimace on his face, because he just rolled his eyes at him, before turning his attention back to the phone.

"Listen, this isn't— this isn't working, okay?" Will said, seemingly cutting off whatever Carlton had been rambling about. Mike watched with bated breath. The line was silent for a long moment.

"What?" Mike heard Carlton exclaim, clear as day. Mike bit back a smug grin, because yeah, he should be getting dumped right now. Not just because of Mike's feelings towards Will, but because of his general assholery for what seemed like the entire time they'd been together.

Will pushed at Mike's shoulder again, shaking his head at him in a way that seemed like he was trying for disappointed but couldn't quite stick the landing.

"I'm sorry, but it's really not. Not for either of us," Will continued, his voice steady. Mike couldn't wait for him to hang up the phone so he could kiss him again.

Carlton said something on the other end. Mike didn't pick it up.

"I guess, yeah," Will said, sounding apologetic. "Sorry to do this over the phone, but—"

Carlton interrupted him, and Mike frowned at the way Will flinched at whatever he'd said, his eyes darting to Mike's for a moment before he was looking away just as quickly. Mike knew, instinctively, that whatever Carlton had said was about him.

"It's not just that," Will sighed, picking at a loose thread on his blanket. Mike scooted closer, their knees brushing. "It was never gonna work out between us anyway, you know that."

Carlton said something back. Will nodded, before verbally confirming whatever it was. Then, they were exchanging curt goodbyes, and Will dropped the phone from his ear and back onto the receiver.

"You okay?" Mike asked, after a long moment of silence. Will smiled weakly at him.

"Yeah," He breathed, his eyes flickering all over Mike's face like he couldn't really believe he was there. Mike watched him for a long moment, before flopping back onto Will's bed.

Will raised an eyebrow at him, amused, and Mike just reached his arms out, motioning uselessly at Will.

"Come here," He whined when Will just looked at him. Will laughed lightly, before he was collapsing down, half on top of Mike, and Mike was wrapping his arms around Will's back. They slotted together like pieces of a puzzle. Mike felt something in his chest settle.

"I guess I'm single now," Will said after a long moment, and Mike let out a choked noise.

"What?" He hissed, staring at Will like he'd grown a second head. Will just blinked at him.

"You are so not single, William," Mike muttered, pulling Will down so his face was resting in his neck. Mike held him there in a vice grip, despite the fact that Will made no move to leave.

"I mean, technically I am," Will continued on, and Mike knew he could feel how Mike's heart was racing from where they were pressed together. "I just broke up with my boyfriend, and no one else has asked, so…"

Mike's hands tightened around Will's back. Will snorted against him, and Mike was hit with the realization that Will was being difficult on purpose.

"I'm asking," Mike said instantly, affronted. "Will, I'm asking."

"Hm," Will's mouth brushed Mike's neck, and he felt himself shudder. "I don't hear any questions."

"Will," Mike breathed. "Can you please, please, put me out of my misery and be my boyfriend?"

"What, no flowers?" Will asked, his voice amused but laced with a giddiness that Mike felt deep in his chest. He could feel the way Will's face heated up against his neck, and when he glanced down, he caught sight of the tips of Will's ears turning pink.

"I'll get you flowers," Mike said. "I'll do anything for you."

Will's breath hitched, and he lifted his head to meet Mike's eyes. Mike stared at him, hoping that he could get across how much he'd meant it through looking alone.

"But I'll go crazy if you don't agree to be my boyfriend right now, Will," Mike admitted. Will stared at him.

"Okay," Will said quietly, their eyes locked. Mike felt a breath of relief escape him, and he pulled Will in without thinking, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth before pulling back.

"Okay?" He asked, grinning at Will. Will grinned back.

"Yeah, okay, Mike."

"Cool," Mike whispered. Will bit his own lips, like he was trying and failing to stop himself from smiling.

"Cool."

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Mike was letting his head drop back onto the pillows, staring at the ceiling as a warm, tingly feeling settled across his entire body. He felt it in every place that Will was pressed against him. He felt Will's eyes on him, and Mike knew he was grinning like an idiot, but who could blame him? He got to date Will Byers.

"Please," Mike said suddenly, hit with a thought. "Please never make me have to watch you date someone else again."

Will actually laughed at that, like the mere idea was ridiculous, like it hadn't literally just happened. Mike tilted his chin down to meet Will's eyes, hoping to convey how serious he was.

"Mike," Will laughed, his voice warm and fond. Mike loved the way Will said his name, like it was something precious. Like it was something worth saying. "Didn't you literally just say you'd be fine with me finding someone else?"

Mike's eyebrows furrowed instantly. Did he say that? Well, he alluded to it, but that was before Will told him he'd spent nearly a decade in love with Mike. When Mike had been forcing himself to pretend that he could imagine even an instant of his life in which Will loved someone else.

"I lied, too," Mike muttered, and Will just laughed at him. Mike frowned, but couldn't find it in himself to be bothered by Will actively laughing at his expense, because he looked beautiful like this.

"You're such an idiot," Will whispered when he had laughed himself silly. Mike couldn't help but grin at him, his hand coming up to cup Will's jaw gently, his fingers brushing across his temple and under his eye.

"Tell me about it," He whispered back. Will looked at him for a long moment, thoughtful, before he was leaning up and pressing a kiss to the corner of Mike's mouth. Mike turned his head to try to chase the kiss, try to catch Will's lips in something more tangible, but Will just pulled back, resting his head on Mike's chest.

"I'm tired," Will said, and Mike's heart squeezed painfully in his chest.

"You want me to go back to my dorm?" He asked weakly. He hoped Will would say no, because Mike didn't think he could survive another second without him, not after the past two weeks, and Will just made a confused noise against him.

"What? No," He replied immediately. Mike felt something in him sag with relief. "Stay with me."

Mike wondered, briefly, as he felt Will's breaths even out where they were fluttering against his neck, if he'd never been able to say no to Will, or if he'd just never actually wanted to.

"Goodnight, Will," Mike whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Will's head. Will shuffled slightly against him, getting more comfortable.

"Night, Mike."

Mike stared at Jonathan and Nancy's apartment door, and he could already pick up on the muffled voices of their friends inside. Will was next to him, and he could feel his eyes on Mike, quiet but thoughtful.

"You ready?" Mike asked, his voice nervous. Will huffed out a laugh, not nearly as anxious as Mike was. Which made sense, kind of, because for Will, the party already knew he was gay. Having a boyfriend was to be expected.

For Mike, though…

"Are you ready?" Will shot back, watching Mike with consideration. "You know, we don't have to—"

"No, I want to," Mike said, grasping Will's hand in his own. He didn't want this to be something that Will felt he had to keep a secret for Mike's sake. He wouldn't be that guy.

Besides, he kind of wanted the party to know. He kind of wanted everyone to know that Will was strictly off-limits, and that he was the only one who got to love him like this.

"If it makes you feel any better, I already told El," Will offered, and Mike blinked, turning to glance at him.

"What?" Will asked, amused. Mike just shook his head with a laugh.

"Will, I told Lucas."

"You did?" Will asked, surprised. Mike snorted, his fingers tightening around Will's.

"Yeah, like, the day after. I needed to tell someone, I would've gone crazy," Mike explained, even though he wasn't sure he was making sense. Will just kept looking at him. "Besides, he already knew I was like, totally in love with you, so."

Will actually laughed at that.

"He did?"

"I mean, I wasn't exactly good at hiding it…" Mike mumbled, feeling heat creep up onto his face. Will grinned at him, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his mouth. When he pulled back, Mike immediately tried to follow him, but Will stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Mike, we're not making out outside our siblings' apartment," Will chastised lightly. Mike just rolled his eyes, before he was hit with a thought.

"There's no way Max doesn't know," He said, and Will pursed his lips, nodding, before they both had the same realization.

"Oh my god, Dustin is gonna be so mad."

Ten minutes later had them standing in front of the party awkwardly, glancing at each other and then at their friend's expectant faces. Mike shifted on his feet.

"Okay, why is this so weird?" Mike rushed out, the silence getting to him. Will let out a chuckle next to him, and Mike felt his heart squeeze unfairly in his chest at the sound. He glanced over at Will, and his eyes got stuck on his smile.

"Jesus, just spit it out, lovebirds," Max scoffed, and Mike swung his head around to glare at her. She totally knew.

"We're dating," Will said evenly, and Mike couldn't help but glance over at Dustin, because he was almost certainly the only one who wasn't already in the know. The rest of the party followed Mike's gaze, and Dustin sat there, a blank expression on his face.

"Why's everyone looking at me?" Dustin asked, incredulous. "Jesus, you're not looking for a third, right?"

"Dustin, gross!" Max exclaimed, at the same time that the rest of the party reacted similarly. Mike caught Will's eye and they both burst into laughter.

El, leaning into Max's side, whispered a question, and Max just shook her head.

"Okay, but," Lucas interrupted the momentary outburst, glancing back at Dustin. "You're not, like… surprised?"

"Surprised?" Dustin laughed, like the concept was ridiculous. "Dude, Erica owes me twenty bucks."

"Erica?" Lucas blurted, completely lost on what his sister had to do with any of this. Mike felt equally as confused.

"Yes, keep up," Dustin rolled his eyes. "To be fair, I really didn't expect it to take this long, and the whole Carlton thing was certainly a twist, but," He gestured vaguely at Mike and Will. "It's them. So, yeah, not surprising."

Mike tried to ignore the way his face heated up at the words, catching Will's eye to see him sporting a blush of his own.

"See, that!" Dustin exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "That's the kind of thing that had me risking a twenty over. In hindsight, I really should've raised the stakes."

"Dustin, seriously?" Will asked, but he was laughing. Mike bit back his own smile.

"Okay, can we stop standing around like a bunch of idiots and actually do something now?" Max spoke up. "If I have to spend the whole night watching these two make goo-goo eyes at each other and be sober at the same time, I'm seriously going to lose my mind."

"I think it's sweet," El argued, and Dustin rolled his eyes.

"You watch too many romance movies, El," He pointed out, and El just shrugged, not even bothering to deny it.

The party settled after that, Mike and Will taking their spots next to each other on the ground in front of the couch while Max rummaged through Nancy's liquor cabinet. Lucas and Dustin argued over which movie to watch. At one point, Will butt in to suggest A New Hope, but both Lucas and Dustin immediately shut him down.

El sidled up beside Mike, nudging him with her shoulder. He glanced over at her and caught the teasing grin on her face.

"I told you," She said, glancing over at Will pointedly. Mike felt himself flush.

"Yeah, you were right," He replied, a small smile on his face. "Thanks, El."

El nodded, before her eyes lit up in some kind of realization.

"Wait, Jonathan's not here," She said, and Mike frowned in confusion. "Does that mean, as Will's sister, I should be the one to give you the "talk about shovels"?"

"What?" Mike sputtered, and Will glanced over at the reaction, sharing a look with El. "No, you do not have to give me the shovel talk, El."

Will laughed at that, the noise escaping him like he hadn't meant for it to.

"But Jonathan said—"

"Don't listen to Jonathan!" Mike exclaimed, and Jesus, could this get anymore awkward? El was his ex girlfriend, for god's sake! "El, seriously, never listen to Jonathan."

"Hey," Will protested, and Mike turned to give him a look. Will's eyes were soft, amused. Mike felt something in his chest tug unfairly. "Jonathan's not that bad."

"Will, I love you more than anything, but Jonathan is terrible," Mike said simply, and Will flushed at the words, glancing away for a second before looking right back at Mike, like he couldn't keep his eyes away.

"Mike…" Will's voice was soft, and Mike's heart was in his throat. He glanced down at Will's mouth, and was hit with the painfully familiar urge to lean in.

But he didn't have to swallow that urge now. They were in Jonathan and Nancy's apartment, only the party around them, and Will was right there, and they were dating.

So, Mike kissed him.

It was brief, barely a peck, just lips pressed against lips for the sake of reminding himself how it felt. Like he could ever actually forget. When he pulled back, Will's eyes were wide, and his face was impossibly redder, and Mike felt a surge of affection so strong he nearly keeled over.

"I love you, too, by the way," Will mumbled, sheepish, and Mike's heart nearly leaped out of his chest.

God, he didn't know if he'd ever get used to this.

He didn't trust his vocal chords, so he just wrapped an arm around Will's shoulders, tugging him into his side, because close was never close enough. He could crawl inside Will's body and probably still feel the distance between them like a sting.

Lucas and Dustin finally settled on a movie, and Max was returning with a bottle of vodka that Nancy would definitely miss, and then they were all huddling on or around the couch, passing around the bottle as the opening credits played on the screen.

Mike glanced over at Will, then kept looking at him, because he could. He knew Will could feel his eyes on him, with the way his lips started to curl up in an amused smile, but he refused to look back.

"Focus on the movie, Wheeler," Max kicked him in the side from where she was sat above them on the couch, and Mike just flipped her off.

Mike did finally tear his eyes from Will to at least try to pretend to pay attention to the movie, and he felt Will lean closer to him, resting his head on Mike's shoulder. Mike's heart did a somersault in his chest, and he leaned his head onto Will's, biting back a grin.

"You okay?" Will asked quietly after another minute, and Mike felt fondness well up inside him, squeezing Will impossibly closer.

"Never better," Mike said, and he meant it.

"Good," Will breathed. "Me too."