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Will had turned his car’s ignition off about fifteen minutes ago.
But somehow, he can’t bring himself to actually step out of it. He’s just been staring. Staring at that familiar building like it might give him some kind of answer if he just stares hard and long enough. His hands are still trembling. They haven’t stopped doing so since he’d picked up the envelope from the passenger seat.
He sees movement in the house through a window, his pulse jumping like it had done every other time it had happened in the last few minutes. His exhale of relief is audible when he once again goes unnoticed. Will absentmindedly runs his fingers through his hair, not too concerned about its state when he has bigger things to worry about. Things of far greater importance. But he decides to check the mirror anyway, even if only to make sure that the tear tracks on his face aren’t too terribly visible.
Well, shit.
Will looks like he hasn’t done anything but cry. Which isn’t too far off. But it’s not necessarily the vibe he wants to give off. His hair a mess, eyes red-rimmed, and dried tears on his cheeks. He’s looked better. Though he’s mostly sure that it won’t matter for what he’s about to do.
In a futile attempt to make himself look more presentable, he rearranges his hair and wipes gently at his face, willing the remnants of his emotions away. He’s somewhat successful. Overwhelmed with nervous energy, he leans forward and lets his head thump against the steering wheel. Will realizes his grave mistake when the horn goes off. Moving faster than he’s ever done before, he snaps back, his entire body crashing into the seat. He gives himself exactly one second to get over the shock before he starts praying that nobody heard him. Or at least that nobody cares enough to look at him from their window. Will doesn’t think his prayers will be heard.
He needs to get out of the car. Now.
Will fumbles with the car key, checking the windows of the house every second to see if anybody has spotted him. He stumbles out of his car with absolutely no grace and conquers the driveway with hasty steps.
He’s so fucking nervous. And he doesn’t even know why. Nobody is forcing him to be here. Nobody is making him do anything he doesn’t want to be doing. He himself made the decision to drive here. But now that he’s actually standing at the front door, his heart threatens to jump out of his chest. There’s a fleeting thought of turning around and running away, changing his mind at the last moment. To his surprise, despite his nerves, he doesn’t want to run away. No matter how nervous he is right now, he stands by his choice. He also thinks that, realistically, it would be too late to run anyway.
His finger hovers over the doorbell for a short moment. Then he presses it. Right below the bold letters that spell out Wheeler.
Closing his eyes for one last moment of calm, Will takes a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever is about to happen next. His moment of calm lasts for approximately two seconds. That’s how long it takes for Karen to fling the door open right in front of him, effectively knocking the air out of his lungs.
"Will." Her voice is warm and gentle, just like the smile that she’s sporting. She wraps her arms around him in a matter of seconds. It feels different. The last time he hugged her, he was still quite a bit shorter than her. It’s only then that he fully realizes that he hasn’t seen her in over four years. With how tightly she’s hugging him, Will thinks that she was very much aware of that fact. He can feel the protective and kind motherly energy seep into his body, immediately calming some of his nerves. "It’s so good to see you," she says right after untangling herself from him.
Will’s eyes widen slightly when he spots that, just barely there, knowing and satisfied grin that’s trying to take over her smile.
Of course.
He should’ve known that she’d seen him sit in his car for an embarrassingly long time. And that she most definitely knew that it was him honking and disrupting the quiet morning atmosphere on their street. He kind of wants the ground to open up below him. Instead, a deep blush creeps onto his cheeks. A great combination with the smudged tear tracks.
"Yeah." Will mumbles shyly, averting his eyes from her all-knowing gaze. "It’s good to see you too."
Karen chuckles warmly. "Come in."
She says, holding the door open for him. He gets a flashback from just two nights ago when he’d crossed this same threshold. It had been dark, lights long turned off in the house when they’d stepped inside. He’d felt anxious and unsure. A stark difference to how he feels now. The nerves are still there, though this time underlined by a sense of anticipation and maybe even hope.
Will hurries inside, taking his shoes off and putting them in the spot that had always been his as a kid, just like he had done two days ago. He spends a short moment looking around, seeing the inside of the house illuminated for the first time in what feels like forever. A warm feeling spreads throughout him once again when he realizes that not a lot has changed in his absence.
"Mike’s upstairs," she supplies as soon as he reels back the nostalgia and focuses his gaze on her, like it wasn’t even a question why he was here. His still present blush darkens once more. "Go on."
With an encouraging hand on his shoulder, Karen guides him to the staircase. In that moment, he wonders how much she knows, how much Mike had told her. Or if it was just motherly instinct and intuition. But the fact that he hasn’t been over at the Wheelers’ in four years makes him sure that she knew that there was something wrong between the two of them. When they had, in fact, been inseparable for most of their life.
Will feels her hand glide off his shoulder when he starts slowly ascending the stairs one by one. He doesn’t look back, instead focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.
He can do this.
He stands in front of Mike’s room before he realizes it. His heartbeat picks up, and he swears he can hear their hushed voices on the other side of the door, hiding under the covers on Mike’s bed as they’d stayed up past their bedtime, too wrapped up in each other to even entertain the idea of sleep. Pretending to be fast asleep as soon as they’d hear the creak of his door, surely doing a horrible job at suppressing their giggles, but convinced that they had mastered the craft of deceiving their parents. Will smiles to himself, a kind of calm flooding his body that you can only feel in the most special of places. In places that feel like home.
Suddenly, knocking on Mike’s door feels like the easiest thing he’s ever done.
"Yeah, Mom, I’m coming." Mike’s voice comes out mumbled, and Will makes out rumbling that he can easily identify as Mike getting off his bed, with how often he’s heard it. It’s only a few seconds later when the door flies open, and Mike comes into view. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees Will, eyes widening comically and mouth hanging open. Mike stares at him, and Will can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face.
"Not your mom," Will chuckles to himself. "But hi."
He can’t seem to get his smile to go down. It only widens even more. Mike still stares at him unbelievingly, like he can’t fathom that Will is really there. That he’s come back. And he can’t blame him. Until about an hour or two ago, Will himself hadn’t seen any reality in which he’d come back here. It takes a few moments before Mike’s brain catches up with him and he snaps back into the present.
"Hi." There’s such tangible relief in his voice and expression, his eyes already glassy, it instantly makes Will’s heart swell to double its size.
"Can I?" Will asks ambiguously but motions into the room. Mike’s staring again. It takes him a few seconds before he nods so strongly that Will worries for his head. He hears the door click back into its hinges after walking in.
It’s quiet.
Will can’t help but chuckle at that fact. Because he’s with Mike. And Mike is never quiet. He has a perpetual issue with shutting up and not talking. But seemingly not right now. Mike’s brows furrow in confusion.
"I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you be quiet for this long." Will comments, and heat immediately rises to the other boy’s cheeks.
"Yeah." Voice still hushed and hazy, Mike looks at him, not breaking eye contact once. Like if he averts his eyes or speaks up louder, the illusion might shatter, and Will would be gone again.
"Can I give you a hug?" Will asks him, just quiet enough for the other to hear. He supposes it’s the easiest way to make him realize that this is actually happening. And selfishly, he really misses hugging Mike. Not the hugs they’d exchanged over the last few years. The cold and distant ones. No, he misses the all-consuming, bone-crushing ones that are filled with so much warmth, love, and appreciation.
Mike’s eyes go wide once more before he starts stumbling over his words with a shy smile on his face. It’s adorable. "Yes, yeah. Yeah, of course."
With slow steps, Will moves towards Mike until there are only a few inches left between them. Then he wraps his arms around the other, eliminating any distance that had been left. He feels Mike go boneless in his arms, squeezing him even harder and doing his best to hold him up. After a few seconds, to Will’s surprise, Mike slings his own arms around him, impossibly tight. Will chuckles at the same time that an audible sniffle escapes the other boy. On instinct, Will strengthens his grip around Mike, letting him feel whatever he needs to feel right now.
"You’re here." Mike whispers hotly in the crook of Will’s neck, a shiver coursing through his body at the sensation. He feels the other’s tears on his skin. Will’s heart aches.
"I am." He rubs soothing circles on Mike’s back, fully content with just being there for him right now.
If you’d told him two days ago that he’d be holding Mike like this, putting his own feelings and thoughts on hold to take care of the other, he’d not have believed you in the slightest. That would’ve made less sense to him than if you’d told him that Vecna had come back from the dead. But now, this seems like the most natural of things for him to do. Again. It feels like that again. Because discounting the last four years, he’d felt like that his entire life.
Will untangles them just enough to be able to look into Mike’s eyes. "You wanna sit down?"
The other nods faintly, and Will gently guides him over to his bed, sitting down and patting the space next to himself. Once again, a stark contrast to just two nights ago when they’d been on opposite sides of the room with what had felt like miles between them. Mike starts fiddling with the skin at his nail beds again, and Will wants to reach out but holds himself back in the last moment, not wanting to overdo it.
"Not to assume anything, but does this mean you hate me a little less now?" Mike asks with a self-deprecating chuckle, shyness still very much prominent in his voice.
Will smiles and lets out a short huff.
"I don’t think there’s anything you could ever do to actually make me hate you." He realizes it as the truth the moment the words have left his mouth. No matter how much hurt and anger Mike had caused him, the foundation of love he has for him will always be stronger than any negative emotion he feels towards the other. It doesn’t mean that everything that’s happened is suddenly forgiven and okay, but he knows that their connection is strong enough to withstand it. To get back to a place where those tremendous sources of pain will have faded until all that’s left is a small ache on difficult days.
"Really?" Mike sounds like Will’s words are coming straight from his own brain, and it’s his grandest wishes that he hadn’t actually thought to be possible.
"Yeah, really."
It’s right after he’s said the words that Mike jumps in and starts rambling on.
"I’m so sorry, Will." He starts frantically, seemingly having realized again that they’re in this situation where they have to make up because of him. "I never meant to hurt you like that. I just didn’t know what to do, how to-"
"Hey, hey, I know. It’s okay," Will interrupts, gently placing a hand on his thigh as he holds eye contact, really trying to get his words across to the other. To make him understand. "Do you want to talk about it? What you wrote in your letter." It’s an offer. He’s not sure if Mike is actually ready to talk about it or if the thought of losing Will had made him access levels of sincerity and honesty in his letter that he isn’t yet ready to harness in a conversation with him. It takes a moment before Mike responds.
"Yeah. I think I do." His words are soft, unsure, like he’s not even yet sure how he’s going to talk about it.
"Okay, no pressure though. Take your time." Will takes his hand off Mike’s thigh after giving it another squeeze.
"Why are you being so nice to me when I’ve been such an idiot?" The genuine confusion in Mike’s voice, as well as the implication that he doesn’t deserve kindness, tug at Will’s heartstrings.
"Because I know what it feels like."
Will himself can’t help but fiddle with the hem of his shirt as he starts talking. Over time, talking about his queerness and coming out journey has gotten a lot easier. Especially with people he knows and trusts. But accessing the emotions he’d felt back then, the fear and loneliness it had brought, will always stay with him and put him slightly on edge when thinking about it. "What you went through and described in your letter. I’ve been there."
"How did you do it? Not feeling like that anymore?" Now that Will has read his letter, he doesn’t need Mike to elaborate. He knows exactly what the other means.
"I don’t think I’m the best person to ask that because I don’t really feel like I had much of a choice." Will chuckles, thinking back to the more than tumultuous circumstances of his coming out and acceptance journey. "When the fate of the world depends on you accessing some dark wizard’s power, you kind of have to be okay with yourself to do that."
"Yeah, I don’t think I’d wanna summon a new dark wizard just to get there," Mike jokes, and Will sees his first truly genuine laugh in a while.
"Yeah, please don’t. I can assure you that we’ll find another way." He joins in on the joke and laughter.
"We?" Mike asks, sudden earnestness and shyness back in his voice.
"If you want?"
"Yeah." The answer comes so fast and hushed that Will nearly misses it. "Thank you."
Mike’s eyes shimmer and glimmer in a way that makes Will want to get out his pencils and try to capture them on paper. Though he’s sure that he’d never be able to capture their beauty with something as mundane as paper and pencil. He’s not sure anything could do them justice.
"Have I ever told you how I actually ended up being able to channel Vecna’s powers?" Will starts without thinking about it much beforehand, deciding in the moment that it might be a good way for him to share some of his own experience and help Mike open up.
"You said you had to be near the Hive Mind to access his powers," Mike says, confused, unsure why Will is bringing this up when he feels like he already has the answer to the question.
"True, but that’s not all."
The other looks even more confused. "It isn’t?"
"No. Up until that day, I honestly didn’t think I had it in me. I didn’t trust myself. Or think that I was good enough to actually contribute anything worthwhile to the group." Will feels for his past self, remembers how little confidence he had back then. Looking back now, he’s quite proud of how far he’s come.
"No, Will, you’ve always been-" Mike interrupts him immediately. It’s the most Mike thing ever. He’s never been one to accept Will talking negatively about himself. Will can’t help but chuckle fondly.
"Mike." He says, interrupting Mike right back.
"Sorry."
Will squeezes his hand in a reassuring gesture.
"My point being, I didn’t believe in myself." Mike looks at him like he’s fully captivated by his every word. "And then there was Vecna and he was, he was telling me all these things about myself. How I was weak and how I broke so easily and how my mind didn’t belong in this world. And for the first time, I started to think that maybe what he was saying wasn’t true." He still remembers the moment so vividly. Being lifted into the air and not in control of his own body, as Vecna tried to use his insecurities against him. It made Will want to prove him wrong. "And suddenly there was that Demogorgon launching itself at you, and I was so scared. I saw my life flash before my eyes. But then I remembered something. Something that someone had told me that day."
"What was it?" Mike sputters out immediately, entranced by every word of his like they might give him the answers to all of his questions.
"They told me that they’d also been scared. Looking for answers in other people. But then they’d found this film of themself as a child. And instead of seeing someone who was scared, they saw someone entirely different, you know? Someone carefree and fearless who wholeheartedly loved themselves. And they realized that it was never about other people. They already had all the answers. They just needed to stop being so scared of themselves. So they could finally feel free." Will is surprised that he can still basically retell the entire story word for word. But then again, it had had an impact on him like nothing else. He hopes he’s doing Robin proud right now, passing her words on. Next to him, he can see Mike starting to tear up, the words obviously having an impact on him as well. Will reaches out once again and cups the other’s hand with both of his before continuing.
"Their words had already really resonated with me, but in that moment, it all clicked. It’s like time stood still, and I saw a film reel of my younger self. I saw myself with you. With my mom. With Jonathan. And that version of me was so happy. So free." Without meaning to, Will feels his own vision start to become slightly blurry, the intense emotions rushing back to him and filling him with fondness for his younger self. "And that’s when I realized, I could be that way again. If I just stopped being scared. Scared of myself and who I really was."
Will lifts one of his hands from Mike’s on instinct and gently swipes away a few of the other’s stray tears, comfortingly smiling at him. It doesn’t have the effect he intends because suddenly, there are more tears. Mike sniffles a little as he lets out an unplanned chuckle at the situation. "Then it was like this invisible weight that had been keeping me down, finally lifted off me, and I felt so light. Like I could actually breathe again for the first time in so long. And without even thinking about it, I was suddenly connected to the Hive Mind."
"And then you saved me." It’s so quiet, and Will is not sure he’s ever heard the other’s voice like this.
"Yeah," his own voice mirroring the other’s in gentleness and intimacy.
"Who were you talking to that day?"
Will had known that Mike would ask that. He can’t help but chuckle quietly to himself. Mike has always wanted to know anything and everything possible.
"I can’t say. It’s their story to tell." Squeezing his hand once again, Will shoots him an apologetic look.
"Okay." He’s surprised how easily Mike lets up. But he presumes there are more pressing topics and thoughts on his mind.
"But it honestly doesn’t matter. Because this isn’t about them, and it also isn’t about me. It’s about you."
Will gets an idea and suddenly gets up from the bed, his hand disconnecting from Mike’s. The other looks at him in confusion when Will inspects his desk, nightstand, and dresser. It doesn’t take long for him to find what he’s looking for. He grabs a picture frame from Mike’s dresser and brings it with him to the bed. It’s a picture of Mike when he was maybe five or six years old, dressed in a full snowsuit, standing next to a snowman he’d presumably built. Will sits down closer to Mike, holding the picture between them for the other to see. "Who do you see when you look at this?"
"Me."
"Duh," Will deadpans and bumps playfully into Mike. "I mean, what’s he like? What makes him special? What does he love? Who is he in here?" At that last sentence, Will gently places the palm of his hand right over Mike’s heart. It starts beating faster as soon as he makes contact. He looks right into Mike’s eyes with a gentle and encouraging smile on his face. "And you don’t have to tell me, this can also just be for you."
"No, I want to. You make it easier." The words tumble out of him immediately, redness spreading across his cheeks in a way that brings out his freckles even more.
"Okay." Will waits for Mike, however long it takes him.
"He’s-," Mike starts, but cuts himself right off again, seemingly not sure yet what to say. It takes another moment before he tries again. "He’s creative. He loves telling stories. He’s so open and brave. Also stubborn." The laugh that escapes him as he speaks is infiltrated by the tears that have once again started escaping him. "He talks openly about his feelings, not scared of what other people think of him. He loves being with his friends. Especially you. He really likes you. You’re his favorite."
Will can’t help but choke on his own breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as a single tear falls.
"He sounds amazing." Will can’t stop the smile that takes over his entire face when he feels like Mike is going through the same realization that he had back then.
"Yeah, he is." It’s that admission that seemingly breaks the dam, a choked-back sob tearing from Mike’s throat. Will immediately wraps his arms around him from the side and pulls him close, soothingly rubbing at his side. He waits a minute before Mike’s sobs have subsided, instead turning into quiet sniffles. Shifting their position, Will makes sure that Mike looks at him for what he says next.
"And you know what, Mike?" After a short moment of wide-eyed and vulnerable eye contact, Mike shakes his head slightly. "He’s right in here." Will’s hand is right back on Mike’s chest. "He’s still there. You can be free just like he is."
"Yeah?" Despite there being a tinge of insecurity in his voice, Will can see and hear the feeling of hope in the other.
"Yes. So do it for him. Show him that you can be just as free and open and brave as he is."
"Thank you." Mike wraps his arms around him fully, and time seemingly stops for the both of them.
"Always." It’s nothing more than a whisper, but he knows that Mike hears it. If only by the way that he tightens his grip on Will.
They’re both quiet for a moment, and Will isn’t sure if it’s a minute that’s passed or an hour. Then Mike quietly mumbles his name into the fabric of his shirt.
"Will?"
"Yeah?" They’re both whispering, the intimacy of the situation too fragile to allow anything else. "Nevermind."
"Hey, you can talk to me." Will gently traces the ridges of the other’s spine on his back through the fabric of his t-shirt.
"I know. It’s just embarrassing," Mike mutters as he presses himself even closer against Will’s flannel.
"I’m sure it isn’t." Will gently puts a bit of distance between them. Enough to look at him, but not enough to fully dissolve their embrace. "Think of this as a vault." He motions around the room with his one free hand. "Everything you say in here is safe. We don’t have to talk about it again after we leave if that’s what you want."
He wants to leave that door open for Mike. Will knows firsthand how hard this is. So he doesn’t want to pressure him in any way, even though he really hopes that this is just the beginning of them being open and honest with each other again. Of finding a way to get back to how they used to be.
"No, I- I do want to talk about it. I don’t wanna go back to how things were before. I wanna be more-"
"Brave?" Will supplies with a smile when he hears the determination and fierceness in the other’s voice.
"Yeah."
"Okay."
"Is it weird for you, knowing how I feel about you now?" Mike speaks so fast and mumbled that Will has to make sure he actually heard the words correctly. He smiles to himself.
"No."
It’s the easiest answer ever.
"Why?
"Because it doesn’t change anything. You’re still Mike. Stubborn to a fault. Kind of annoying." Will counts it as a win that he makes Mike laugh with that. "Incredibly brave. Heart in the right place. It doesn’t change who you are."
It seems like saying it about himself was easier than hearing it come from Will because the blush on his cheeks is spreading quickly. Mike tries to hide it as he hides his face with one of his hands. "And to be honest, it is doing something for my ego," Will teases, eliciting a mixture of groan and laugh from him, while Will laughs unabashedly. "Seventeen-year-old Will is jumping up and down, knowing you feel that same way about him."
Mike peeks at him through the gaps between his fingers, not yet coming out of hiding as he starts speaking. He sounds shy, but there’s an innocent hope swinging in his voice.
"And what about twenty-two-year-old Will? How does he feel about it?"
His face alone tells Will that he’s bracing for rejection. Waiting for Will to tell him that he’s over him and doesn’t feel that way anymore. And before Friday night, Will would’ve said just that. That he was over Mike. Had been for a long time. But if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think that was ever the truth. As much as he’d tried to convince himself that Mike was in his past, there was a reason why no connection he’d made at college had ever lasted. He’s quiet for a moment, thinking how to phrase his next words. Because he really doesn’t know where to go from here.
Will knows that he wants Mike back in his life. Wants to try being friends again. Like they used to be. Best friends. And it would be a lie to say that his somewhat dormant feelings for the other boy hadn’t started stirring again in the last two days. But he’s so scared. So scared of opening up to Mike in this way just to end up potentially getting hurt again. And this time would hurt so much more, knowing what he knows now. Will is sure that Mike wouldn’t hurt him like that again. But he’d said the same thing four years ago, and it came back to bite him. So he needs to be careful. Protect his own peace before anything else.
"You know what they say. You never really do get over your first love. So he’s trying to figure out how he feels right now." Will responds honestly after a moment. Because he really isn’t sure where their rekindled connection will take them. And he’s trying his best to not have any expectations.
"Yeah, that’s fair." Mike brings his hand down from his face and looks at Will, eyes full of earnestness and understanding. "It’s okay, though, if you don’t feel that way anymore. I’ve accepted that. I just-" He interrupts himself, stumbling over his own words as he tries to get them all out. "I know I fucked up really badly. And I’ll try making it up to you for the rest of my life if you’ll let me. I just really wanna be your friend again if nothing else. Because I miss you. I miss us. So much."
"I want that too. I think it’s gonna take time for us to get back to who we used to be together. Or get to a new place." It’s ambiguous enough to not shut the door on the possibility of more completely, but still puts their friendship first. "But I really want to try as well. Because I also miss you. And us."
"Thank you for giving me another chance. I promise I’m really gonna try to be less of an idiot from now on."
"I’ll appreciate the effort," Will says with a laugh, pulling the other into another tight hug. They both stay quiet, just existing together in this moment that feels like the start of something new. Or something old. Maybe both.
"Can you stay for a bit?" Mike asks in nothing but a whisper into their shared embrace.
"Yes." His own tone is just as quiet. Will smiles privately to himself when he feels the same desire to stay that he can hear in Mike’s voice. "I just need to get back on the road sometime later today so I can make it back to campus tonight."
Will frowns when he hears Mike giggle and squirm under him.
"What?"
"Nothing. It’s just your breath. It tickles," Mike says shyly, and Will can practically hear the smile on his face. Not able to resist it, Will huffs out some more warm air against the sensitive skin at the other’s neck.
"Hey, stop it." Mike starts protesting, but Will just tightens his hold on him and keeps puffing his breath at him. The other now tries to actively get out of Will’s grip, which amuses Will greatly, considering that he’s quite a bit stronger than Mike. Mike curses at him under every other breath before he somehow manages to escape his hold as they both fall over backwards on the bed, trying to catch their breath. "You’re evil. Like really, really evil."
"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Will feigns innocence as they both stare at the ceiling that’s still speckled with glow-in-the-dark stars. They used to lie awake at night and count them together, making up their own constellations and coming up with names for them. Will stares at them for a moment, racking his memory to see if any of them had stuck. Then Mike turns from his back and shifts onto his side, now looking at Will. He mimics the other’s movement, his face now mere inches from Mike’s. They just look at each other for what feels like an entire lifetime. The butterflies in Will’s stomach have made their way back quicker than he’d anticipated. Then they both start speaking at the same time.
"Is it okay-"
"Can we-"
They laugh together, eyes crinkling while Will notices how the sunlight from outside illuminates Mike’s face beautifully. Will once again gets the urge to draw him exactly how he looks in this moment. They both apologize at the same time, which elicits another laugh from both of them.
"You first," Will says, making no move to break the intense eye contact.
"I just wanted to ask if- if you’d like to- you can totally say no if it’s weird, but I just wanted to ask if- uhm-" Mike stumbles over his words, suddenly so much more of a stuttering mess than he’d been before. "Oh my god, I’m so bad at this," he says, embarrassed, burying his face in the sheets.
"Mike, just ask," Will responds with a laugh, gently turning Mike’s face away from the bed and back to him.
"Is it okay if we just stay like this for a while?" Mike’s cheeks turn red instantly, and Will can see that he’s trying his best not to break eye contact. He can’t help but grin at the other’s question. Because they’re already so back in tune with each other, thinking and wanting the same things. But Mike doesn’t have to know that yet. He’d rather have a bit more fun with it first.
"Like on the bed? Together?" Will asks, acting confused, like he needs genuine clarification.
"Yeah, I just thought it would be uhm, nice."
"So you wanna cuddle?" Will teases him, grin widening with every second. Mike’s blush turns from light pink to beet red, and he groans loudly as he buries his face back in the sheets.
"This is so embarrassing," Mike whines into the fabric, making his words come out mumbled. Will can’t help but laugh heartily at the other’s embarrassment. He shifts on the bed and manhandles Mike easily until his own head is on the pillow and Mike is lying halfway on top of him, face buried in his Will’s chest.
"Like this?" Will asks, smugness in his tone. There’s a part of himself that can’t believe how forward and bold he’s being. Will from a few years ago never would’ve dared to do anything of the sort.
"I’m not talking to you anymore." The other’s voice is high-pitched and muffled by Will’s shirt. But he doesn’t try to get off him, instead actually nuzzling further into him. "You’re a bully."
"Hey, you got what you wanted," Will says, but feels the same warmth and comfort that he’s sure Mike is feeling. There are so many things they could be doing right now. They could talk, go out, play games, or share a meal. But right now, this is more than enough. Exactly what they need. After years of separation and distance, this comforts and heals them the most. Just being with each other. Feeling the other close by. It’s reassurance in its most basic form. They stay still like that for a while, Mike’s hand wrapped loosely around his waist, his own tracing slow patterns on the other’s back.
"What were you gonna ask?" The other’s voice is soft after a minute of quiet.
"The same."
"What?"
"If we could just be like this together for a moment." Mike’s head snaps up to him as soon as the words have left his mouth, and he stares at Will with an exasperated expression.
"And you tease me for wanting to cuddle when you wanted it too." Eyes wide, Mike stares at him in disbelief. Will, in turn, only grins at him with satisfaction. He notices the exact moment that Mike plans to attack and simply pulls him back and cages him in on his chest. "Just enjoy it."
Mike huffs out a dissatisfied grunt, like he’s still contemplating if he’s gonna let Will off the hook. After a few moments of Mike’s body being tense on top of him, he relaxes and melts back into Will.
They’re quiet for a while, soaking up all the warmth and happiness this moment has to offer. Mike’s breathing reaches a consistent rhythm, adjusting his position on Will’s chest every few minutes. Will cards his hair gently through Mike’s messy curls, eliciting a satisfied sigh from him every now and then.
"I like this," Mike absentmindedly whispers into the silence, and Will isn’t sure if he meant to say it or if it’s a thought that just left his lips without his active permission.
"Me too," He whispers back, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Do you want to keep hanging out until you have to leave?" His voice is tentative, like he’s once again not trying to get his hopes up, not wanting to ask too much of Will in case he decides that he doesn’t want to give him this new chance anymore.
"Yeah, I’d like that."
"Really?" Will can’t help but find it somewhat adorable that Mike keeps being so surprised that he wants to spend more time with him.
"Yes," He responds with a chuckle, a gentle smile etched onto his features as he lifts Mike’s head so that he can look him in the eyes as he says it.
"Can I prepare something?" Mike asks, looking up at him with those goddamn pleading puppy eyes. The ones that Will has never been able to resist. Not that he has anything to object to in this scenario. It simply makes agreeing that much easier. Mike could ask anything of him in this moment, and he’d probably say yes.
"Prepare something?" Will asks instead, curious what Mike’s plan entails.
"Yes, I wanna make this good. I want it to be special," the other says, not really giving him an answer to his question. Will grins mischievously and already sees the slight terror in Mike’s eyes as he realizes he’s about to be teased again. Before Mike can stop him, the words are already leaving his mouth.
"So a date?"
"WILL! Shut up!" Mike nearly shouts, groaning loudly before he slams his face into Will’s chest with force. The rest of his words are muffled by Will’s chest. "Let me do something nice."
"Okay, okay. I’ll keep quiet," Will laughs, gently stroking his thumb along Mike’s cheek, which makes the other sit up straight right away, with a faint blush on his cheeks once again. If Will could find a way to make that blush permanent, he would.
"Good." Mike hops off the bed and points straight at Will. "Go pick out a movie. I’ll be back in a bit."
"Sure," Will says with a laugh before Mike hurries out of the room. He lets himself fall back onto the pillow for a moment.
Will pinches himself to make sure this is actually real.
The last two days have been an emotional roller coaster. One that ended with him cuddling with Mike in the other’s childhood bedroom. No prior version of Will would’ve ever even thought of this as an actual possibility. The road to get here hadn’t been easy. Quite the opposite, in fact. But as he’s lying here, on Mike’s bed, which smells of the shampoo that Mike has been using since elementary school, he can’t help but feel the pain of the years past start to subside. It’s still there and will most certainly take a while to disappear, but the love he’s felt for Mike has always been stronger than any other emotion he’s felt. So it’s the most normal thing that he can’t contain his smile in relation to Mike. The only reason why he isn’t a blushing and stuttering mess like Mike is that he’s had about a decade to come to terms with and accept these feelings, desires, and wishes. They’re nothing new to him. Though the reciprocation is very much new to him. And despite them just having cuddled together, it still doesn’t feel real.
Mike Wheeler? In love with Will Byers? Highly unlikely in his eyes. Yet it’s still his current reality. Though one that takes some time to actually sink in as reality and not some figment of imagination that he’s made up along the way. But he’s glad he’ll be around to experience it.
After a minute or two of grinning like a manic at the ceiling, Will actually gets up from the bed and walks over to the shelf that has an assortment of movies neatly lined up, right under the television itself. It only takes one look for him to spot the movie he wants to watch with Mike. He slides the movie out of the line with practiced ease and plops the VHS cassette into the VCR so that he only has to click the start button when Mike comes back. And since he’s not sure how long that’s going to take, he settles on Mike’s desk chair.
As he studies the desk area, Will notices a plethora of discarded and crumbled-up papers as well as a stack of new ones. There are different pencils and pens lying around, and he can’t help but pick one of them up. He realizes that this must be where Mike had written his letter to him. There’s a short moment where he’s tempted to smooth out the failed attempts and read them, but he immediately decides against it, not wanting to invade the other’s privacy like that. Instead, he grabs a new piece of paper and lets his inspiration guide him.
It doesn’t surprise him when Mike’s face comes into focus on the paper as his sketch progresses. It’s the scene from just a few minutes ago. Mike’s face illuminated by the sunlight streaming in, a faint blush on his cheeks, freckles visible, eyes wide and full of wonder, and his hair messily covering his forehead. He’s surprised how easy it still is to draw Mike from memory, his features burned into his mind. It’s kind of pathetic that he could probably accurately paint each and every one of his freckles without having to even look at the other.
He doesn’t know how much time passes before he suddenly feels a hand on his shoulder. Will nearly jumps out of the chair, so immersed in sketching Mike that he hadn’t even heard him open the door and come back in.
"Oh, you’re back. Hi," Will says, breath still hitched from the surprise.
"Yeah, I am. Seems like you’ve been busy as well. What’re you drawing?" Mike asks curiously as Will’s body still covers what he’s been working on. This time it’s Will’s turn to blush. He hadn’t even considered that Mike would see him sketch when he’d started doing so. Instinct had simply taken over. His instinct to sketch Mike. The fact that he even has that instinct says enough.
"This is embarrassing," Will announces more to himself than Mike, but ends up looking at the other anyway. Mike raises his eyebrows in intrigue.
"Oh, perfect. It’s finally your turn to be embarrassed today."
Rolling his eyes at Mike, Will decides to just get it over with and grabs the sketch, presenting it to the other.
"Here," Will says as he holds it out for the other to see. It’s only a short moment before Mike takes the piece of paper from him and inspects it more closely.
"Is this how you see me?" Mike asks softly after a while, pupils blown wide and not able to tear his eyes away from the drawing.
"Yeah," Will replies as though it’s the most obvious answer ever.
"Only you could make me look this beautiful. Like I’m someone to be appreciated. To be loved." Mike’s voice is distant, like he’s saying things without even actually realizing the extent of them, revealing things that are usually inside thoughts.
"You are all of those things to me." The words once again leave him without any worry or nerves because it’s the truth. And the truth is usually the easiest thing to admit. Before he knows it, Mike has his arms slung around him again.
"Thank you," he whispers just loud enough for Will to hear. "Can I keep it?"
"Yeah, of course. It was your paper and pencil anyway." Will says with a chuckle as he softly wraps his arms around the other’s waist. Mike also laughs, squeezing him tight once more before dissolving the hug.
"This’ll get a special place in my dorm. My first adult Will Byers original," he says dramatically, swooning over the picture with way too much enthusiasm, simply to make Will blush.
"God, you’re embarrassing." Will lets out a mixture of groan and laugh.
"You wouldn’t want it any other way."
He can’t dispute that.
"No, I wouldn’t," he says with an absurd amount of fondness that does not fit the current playful situation. Immediately feeling the need to shift focus, Will’s eyes land on the tray of food and drinks that Mike had put down on the dresser. "So, what do you have there?"
"Just this and that," Mike says as he carefully carries the tray over to the bed.
"Did you make all of this yourself?" Will asks when he sees the wide range of snacks and canned drinks on the tray.
"Yeah."
"Liar!" Will exclaims with a loud laugh, pointing his finger accusingly at Mike. "I could spot Karen Wheeler’s perfectly symmetrical cut fruit slices anywhere."
"Okay, okay, I had some help." Mike throws his hand up in surrender, not the least bit ashamed to admit it by the wide grin on his face.
"I’ll forgive the lie only because I’ve missed having my fruit cut this nicely," Will replies, making his way over to the bed where Mike is already sitting with the tray next to him. He deliberately chooses the spot right next to Mike so that the tray isn’t between them. Leaving not a single inch between them, Will immediately curls into his side.
"Oh, how generous," Mike says, but his voice trails off into a soft sigh as soon as he feels Will by his side. "So, what movie did you decide on?"
"You’ll see," Will says as he presses the start button on the remote.
"Really?" Mike asks with a laugh as the opening credits of The Breakfast Club start playing. Will just smiles at him widely. He knows that Nancy made him watch it one too many times when he was a kid, so Will never had the privilege of watching it with him. Until now.
"Yes, really." His smile grows even wider if that’s even possible.
"Only because it’s you. You’re lucky you’re cute." Mike surrenders and only realizes what he’s said after the words have come out. Both of them blush and break eye contact.
"Is that so? Good to kn-" Will recovers quicker but is then interrupted by Mike before he can finish his sentence.
"Just focus on the movie." The other talks loudly over him, possessively pulling him closer into his side, this time Will being the one whose face is planted firmly on Mike’s chest. He gets comfortable and cuddles closer. Reaching over Mike’s legs, he grabs a handful of popcorn and shifts his attention to the screen.
Being in Mike’s arms like this, as well as having one of his favorite movies playing, to his dismay, makes time move faster than he’d like to. He tries to soak every second of it up, but the end credits start rolling before he’s ready for this to be over. But he also knows that he has to leave soon if he wants to make it back to his dorm before nighttime.
"And?" Will asks, wagging his eyebrows at Mike.
"I like it better when I’m watching it with you. But I think that goes for every movie, so I don’t know how much that says," the other says with a sly grin on his face.
"You’re such a sap." He rolls his eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads on his lips.
"Well, you bring it out of me." Will tries to look annoyed by Mike’s antics, but can’t hide that he finds it incredibly cute and endearing. There’s a comfortable silence that stretches after the screen goes black.
"I need to leave, Mike," he says, even though every bone in his body screams at him to stay.
"I know." Mike drags the words out with a clear diastase, like he knows he can’t say anything that’ll change it, and seemingly hating that fact. "Just a few more minutes?" he pleads, puppy eyes back on full display.
"That’s not fair," Will chuckles and stops mid-motion as he attempts to get up.
"What isn’t?" Mike feigns innocence, blinking his eyes prettily at him.
„Come on." He forces himself not to get sucked in by those eyes and moves off the bed, trying pull Mike up by his hand.
"No." There’s a whininess in his voice that Will hasn’t heard from him since they were children. It makes him grin as he pulls harder.
"Yes." With one hard pull, Mike stumbles onto his feet and right into Will, faces suddenly impossibly close.
"Hi," Mike whispers with a dopey smile.
"Hi." Will mirrors him exactly.
"You know, there’s something that would make saying goodbye less hard." Mike presses his lips together to suppress the smirk that would’ve otherwise surely formed there. Despite him being so forward, there's a blush spreading on his cheeks as his eyes flick down to Will’s lips repeatedly.
Will’s eyes widen for a moment at the implication. He gives himself one second to contemplate his plan of action. Play it safe? Or take a risk? He realizes that playing it safe has never gotten him far.
Without any warning, Will moves forward and presses his lips in a chaste and soft kiss against the other’s lips. Mike barely has time to respond and participate before Will already pulls away again, a smile immediately taking over his own face. Mike, on the other hand, looks positively dumbfounded, like he can’t believe that actually happened and it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. Instinctively, Mike reaches his hand up to his face and touches his lip, feeling the ghost of Will’s lips there.
"Better?" Will asks, butterflies causing absolute mayhem in his stomach. He’s surprised his voice comes out this steady.
"I think another one would really help," Mike says sheepishly, blushing harder with every second.
"Greedy much, huh? You’re lucky you’re cute," he laughs, repeating Mike’s words back to him, before leaning in once again. Why should he deny himself this and force himself to go slow when it feels so natural and right with Mike, even with everything that’s happened? So he presses his lips against Mike’s once again, this time giving the other enough time to actually participate properly in the kiss. His heart might burst when he feels Mike’s lips move against his, the other’s hands tangling in the hair at his nape. Will positively melts into the kiss and embrace. No matter how many times he’s imagined it over the last decade, it’s so much better than anything he could’ve ever come up with. And of course it is. This is Mike. His best friend. The boy, who, despite everything that’s happened, knows him best.
They break apart after what feels like ten seconds and an hour at the same time. Both of them slightly out of breath, they hold on to each other like they might collapse without the other’s support. Then they both break out into a dopey smile.
"Are you gonna walk me to my car?"
"Yes, anything you want," Mike says, high on happiness, Will seemingly having rendered him useless with that kiss. Though he’s not faring much better. He’s not yet sure how he’s not gonna crash into the first tree on the side of the road.
Grabbing Will’s hand, Mike intertwines their fingers before leading them out of his room and down the stairs. He looks out for any of his family members, but deems the path clear when he doesn’t let go of his hand. They get to his car quicker than either of them wants.
"I’ll call you," Mike says urgently as Will opens the door to the driver’s seat, still keeping his other hand preoccupied.
"Please do," Will responds, knowing this time that he really will.
"You’ll be sick of me with how much I’ll call you and write to you." The other looks at him with a blinding grin.
"Not possible."
"I can’t wait to see you again." Will’s heart might burst if Mike keeps going like this. He wants nothing more than to just stay. Stay, spend all his time with Mike, and pretend like nothing else exists.
"Soon," he says instead and means it. Not a year like usual. He’ll be lucky if he even makes it a week before the need to see him again gets too strong and takes over.
"Soon," Mike echoes hopefully. He quickly scans their surroundings for any bystanders or onlookers and then presses the chastest kiss to Will’s cheek when he deems it safe. Will blushes as he hugs Mike tightly.
It’s too quickly after that he sits down behind the steering wheel, Mike still standing right there at his open window.
"Goodbye, Mike."
"Bye, Will."
They look at each other for longer than necessary, seemingly trying to commit every detail to memory. As if that was still necessary after all these years they’ve spent together. When the duration of their staring begins to feel ridiculous, Will turns the key, and the ignition roars to life. They exchange one last smile before Will slowly maneuvers the car onto the street.
As he splits the road down the middle, Will sees Mike’s figure become smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. Just like this morning. The only difference being that this time it wasn’t the end of something. But instead, the beginning of something.
Not Goodbye. But rather, See you soon.
—— —— ——
The next morning
Will wakes up from a loud, blaring sound at the other end of his dorm room. He gives his alarm clock a quick glance.
06:23 AM
He groans as he tumbles out of bed, trying to locate the source of the sound as he wakes up more with every second that he’s no longer under the covers. Without realizing where the sound had actually come from, Will picks up the phone, his subconscious clearly more awake than he is. Whoever is calling him at this time of day deserves to have something really bad happen to them. He presses the phone to his ear and mumbles into it.
"Hello." The raspiness from not having used his voice today is prominent. As is the annoyance of being woken up like this.
"I miss you." The person on the other end of the line sounds off. Suddenly, all of Will’s annoyance is replaced with that warm feeling that’s making him tingly all over. He’s glad that his roommate isn’t here to witness this. The smile that takes over his entire face at just three little words is embarrassing and totally out of his control.
"Mike." His voice is soft despite the morning raspiness. "Have you looked at the time?" He tries to still sound annoyed but fails miserably.
"Yes. But I missed you too much to wait any longer." The needy whine in. Mike’s voice does something to Will that he doesn’t have the brain power to deal with this early in the day.
"You’re gonna be the death of me, Wheeler." Will sits down on the couch and sighs in exhaustion and happiness simultaneously.
"Sick of me yet?" Mike asks, sounding way too awake and chipper for this time of day.
"Never." He smiles to himself, phone in his hand, as he slips under a blanket. He can get used to this.