Chapter Text
October 31, 1989
Mike Wheeler was in deep shit.
As he looked at his surroundings, he took in everything going on. Lucas and Max were hanging up string lights, Dustin was setting up the sound system, and Will and El were nowhere to be seen. Somehow, with Mike’s parents out of town with Holly, and Nancy spending Halloween at Jonathan’s, Mike had wound up hosting a Halloween party.
It was originally supposed to have been small. Just the Party, some AV Club nerds, and a couple of Lucas’ teammates. Somehow though, word had gotten out that there was a party with absolutely no adults at the Wheeler’s. Suddenly, half of Hawkins High was showing up at Mike’s house in an hour.
“Lucas! Can you come move this speaker?” Dustin shouted from across the room. He had a cloak on and a wolf mask hanging half-off his head. Besides Mike, he was definitely the most nervous. Having been placed in charge of setting up all the lights and sound, he was in his element, but Mike was worried his confidence in his abilities would disappear as soon as people showed up at the doorstep.
“Kinda in the middle of something here, Henderson,” Lucas replied, perched precariously on a chair above the fireplace, hanging orange-tinted string lights.
He and Max were dressed as Pac-man and Mrs. Pac-man, with Lucas as the Mrs.
Nonetheless, he got down from the chair and crossed the room to help Dustin, leaving Max alone to glare at Mike.
“What?” He exclaimed. Max was usually to have an excuse to yell at Mike, but this time Mike really had no clue what he did.
“Dude. Where’s your costume? You can’t host a Halloween party with no costume,” Max rolled her eyes.
“Who died and made you queen of Halloween? I can do whatever I want, and for your information, my costume’s upstairs,” he replied briskly.
“Go change then, idiot, we can manage without you. And while you’re at it, could you find El and Will? They disappeared upstairs somewhere forever ago.”
Mike tried for a comeback but couldn’t think of one. Accepting defeat, he nodded at Max and turned towards the stairs to go change.
Even though Max told him to find Will, Mike wasn’t sure he wanted to. You see, two weeks ago, Will had introduced the Party to his boyfriend. Carson or Carlton or something, it didn’t matter. What mattered is that it pissed Mike off, and he couldn’t understand why. He loved Will, of course he did, and shouldn’t he want his best friend to be happy? And yet, something about it all gave him a weird feeling. Every time Carlton was around, all he could think about was how close he was standing to Will, how Will flushed and laughed when Carlton told a stupid joke. But mostly, all he could think about was that stupid necklace. I mean, really, a lock necklace three weeks into dating? Really? Every time he saw it sitting right in between Will’s collarbones, almost as if it was supposed to be there, he had the irrational urge to snap it off Will’s pale, freckled neck. He knew that he didn’t have any say over Will, but when it came to his stupid, thumb-looking boyfriend, it felt like all his critical thinking went out the window.
. . .
Mike twisted around, trying to tie the back of his shirt up. He finally managed, after an embarrassing amount of struggle, and looked in the mirror. He wore black pants and a ruffled white shirt, with fake blood splattered around the neck and chest. He had borrowed some costume jewelry from Will’s old “Will the Wise” costume, and had silver rings adorning a couple of his fingers. His plan had been to rim black eyeliner around his eyes and fake blood around his mouth and dripping down his chin to complete his vampire costume, but he quickly realized his problem. He had no idea how to do makeup. “Fuck.”
An idea flashed through his mind, quick and irresponsible, but as even as quick as it came, it stuck in his brain. Will probably knew how to do makeup… right?
“Will? El?” Mike called out down the hall. He heard some shuffling around in the bathroom and then a tentative voice called out, “Uh… in here!” Mike followed the sound of Will’s voice and slowly opened the door.
“Oh.” Mike gasped. Will was sitting on the top of the sink, with El between his legs, her tongue out in concentration, a tiny brush and palate in her hands. Will had on red pants and a white button down shirt with a blue and red tie. The most striking thing however, was what El had apparently been meticulously working on for the past hour. Will had a red and blue lightning strike running across his face, along with what looked like glitter on his eyelids and cheeks, and red lipstick on his lips.
“Do you not like it?” Will asked shyly, with a hint of hope in his voice, or was it worry?
“No! I mean, not no- I mean yes! Or, I mean, you know what I mean,” Mike stammered out. He was in shock. He’d never seen Will like this, all dolled up like Bowie. It had an obvious effect on him, too. His back was straighter, his eyes brighter, Even with the shyness at which he had asked Mike for his opinion had seemed confident in his own way.
Will blushed a bit, a small pink flush across his cheeks that would be hardly noticeable if you weren’t looking for it, but Mike was, he always was. He wished he could bottle the color on Will’s cheeks and stare at it every day. Mike quickly realized he was staring when El cleared her throat. “Uh, Mike? Do you need something?”
He snapped out of his trance. “Oh right! Um, I was wondering if you could help me with some of my costume stuff, Will?”
“What do you need help with?” Will asked curiously.
“Just the uh, makeup,” he replied, a tad bit shy. Will looked surprised for a split second, but covered it up quickly. God, what Mike wouldn’t give to know what Will was thinking, how he was feeling.
“Maybe I could help? I bet it’s not too hard, and I just did Will’s lightning bolt,” El cut in.
Will jolted. “No! I mean, no, that’s ok, I can do it. Artists’ hands and all, right?”
El looked at him confused, but dropped it. “Ok.. I’m gonna go help the others set up downstairs.”
“Great!” Mike winced at the excitement in his voice.
El stepped around Mike and out the door, closing it behind her. As they heard her footsteps go down the stairs, their eyes met. “So uh.. what do you need my help with?” Will asked. “I’m a vampire,” Mike supplied unhelpfully, gesturing down at his costume.
“No shit.” Will deadpanned. Mike felt his face get hot and stammered out “Yeah, well I uh- I can’t do the fake blood myself, and there’s like, eyeliner?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?” Will replied, raising an eyebrow. Mike didn’t know what to say. Who was this boy, and what had he done with Will? It must have been the makeup, or the costume, or the excitement of the party. The Will standing in front of Mike right now was witty, and a bit blunt. Mike loved it. He loved Will.
“Telling you, I guess? Please just help,” he bit out.
With a small smile appearing on his lips, Will gestured for Mike to come closer. He hopped off the counter of the sink and got Mike to get up, effectively getting in between Mike’s legs, looking up at him through long lashes. Was it getting hotter in the bathroom, or was it just him? Suddenly everything felt like it was in slow-motion and suffocating. He passed Will his bottle of fake blood and the small black eyeliner pencil. Their fingers brushed, and it felt like his whole body was on fire, just from that small touch of their hands. Did Will feel the same? Did he want to see how much more fire he could spread through Mike’s body as much as Mike did?
He let himself entertain those thoughts for a lingering moment as Will opened the cap on the fake blood, making a crisp pop that echoed through the room, until he snapped out of his daze. He knew he had to be reasonable. Will being gay didn’t automatically mean that he would want Mike. In fact, he knows that Will doesn’t want anything with Mike, certainly not the way Mike does. As far as Will knows, Mike is straight as an arrow and still in love with Will’s sister.
His train of thought was interrupted by Will looking up at him inquisitively. “So.. you just want me to..?” He wondered aloud.
“Yeah, I guess just like, around my mouth and chin..? Maybe my throat too, I dunno. I figured you would know what a vampire would look like,” Mike mumbled in response.
Will hesitantly picked up one of El’s leftover makeup brushes and dipped it into the container, raising it to Mike’s face. He painted a few delicate strokes of blood onto Mike’s face before cursing softly under his breath. “What? What’s wrong?” Mike asked.
“The brush isn’t working right. The blood’s like.. a weird consistency,” Will responded, brows furrowed. “I think I might need to just use my fingers.”
Mike gulped down a breath of air. “O-ok, go ahead,” he replied, head spinning. It felt like there was no air in the room, like it had all been sucked out through a straw. Mike felt deprived of oxygen, felt lightheaded in a way that made his body shiver, half terror, half excitement.
Will scooped some fake blood onto his index and middle fingers, delicately spreading them from the edge of Mike’s lips down his chin and under, resting right by his pulse point. The path Will’s fingers traced felt like it was burning Mike’s skin, and he never wanted it to stop. He shuddered down a breath and locked eyes with Will.
“Should I.. keep going?” Will asked tentatively. Mike nodded his head a bit too vigorously. Will dipped his fingers back into the jar and spread them across Mike’s cheek, leaving fat drops of fake blood on his sharp cheekbone.
Mike didn’t know how long they stayed like that, he was putty in Will’s hands. At one point, Will hooked two fingers under Mike’s chin and pushed his head one way or another, and Mike was sure he let out a sound. A whimper of some sort, and he was immediately mortified. He could feel his cheeks heat up in shame and bloom red, and all he could think of was two things. One, how grateful he was for the fake blood masking the pink flush spreading over his cheeks, and two, how all he wanted in the world was for Will to do it again.
“Ok, I- you’re done,” Will whispered, clearly not wanting to break the spell of whatever was happening in the room.
“Wait- I still need you to do my eyeliner..” Mike was trying his best to avoid Will’s eyes, looking anywhere but at the glitter on his eyelids, the lightning bolt stripping down his face. “Oh. Right.” He said. He picked up the black pencil, and started lining Mike’s eyes with it so delicately, it was as if he was made of glass.
“Hang on,” Will groaned in frustration. “I can’t get the right angle.”
With that, he put the end of the pencil softly between his lips, almost like it was a cigarette, and grabbed Mike’s face in his hands. For a split second, Mike thought Will was going to kiss him, and for a split second, it looked like Will was going to. Instead, he crowded in closer to Mike, taking one hand off his cheek to grab the pencil and focus on Mike’s eyes again.
Mike was trying his best not to breathe. He wasn’t sure he could, even if he tried.
They were so close, their noses practically touching, and Mike knew that if either of them leaned in just the slightest bit more, their lips would be touching too. He was about to do it. He was gathering the courage to do something, say something, anything to Will. What, he didn’t know, but the silence, the suspense, was killing him.
As Mike opened his mouth, the doorbell rang.