Chapter Text
Chapter one:
“The answers you seek will never be found at home”
_____________________________________
April 17th, 1992.
Depression sunk its teeth into Micheal Wheeler after 1989, a black hole that eats away at his soul like how that endless void of space devoured Jane Hopper.
He blames himself, for being so stupid. For not being better to her.
And he regrets not ever truly loving her, even though he thought he did.
He prayed he actually would have.
And he’s still praying, for that matter, because now his daily routine is sitting in-front of a typewriter in a grief-induced haze, making up stories of a mage and her adventures with a paladin, a sorcerer, a bard, a ranger, and a speedster.
His fingers ache from typing away on the keys for hours, endless characters forming the words of a fantasy world he created in his head to cope with the fact that everything isn’t how it was supposed to be.
Everything is just wrong.
El is dead, everyone went their separate ways, Max is permanently disabled, half of everyone that he knows have either; A, a drinking problem, or B, some other unhealthy coping mechanism they got too deep in to crawl their way out of.
It was never supposed to be like this, but at the same time, it was inevitable- everyone leaves and lives their own, separate lives.
Now Mike wishes that none of them had ever grown up, that the party would just sit in his basement playing DND for the rest of their lives.
Exactly what Mike told Will wasn’t going to happen, right before Will rode off into the warm summer rain.
“It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”
He regrets that too, making fun of Will like that- and when Will uttered the words back to him as he sat 6 feet away from Mike, that made it a hundred times worse.
He was right about not rotting in his basement with the party, and he was right about his best friend being gay.
And God, he wishes he was wrong about that first one.
Maybe the second one too, because life would be a hell of a lot easier if he wasn’t driving to a gay bar in Chicago right now.
_____________________________________
The reason Mike is making the journey to a gay bar in the bustling city of Chicago is because maybe-
Maybe he doesn’t like girls as much as he thought he did.
He thinks that it’s always been in the back of his mind, the possibility of a relationship with another guy. But he pushed it back, he knew his father would never approve and that the entire town of Hawkins would’ve pushed him into the quarry if they found out he even considered that to be an option.
So he pushed it down and denied it- maybe he was right.
But ever since Will came out to everyone, something clicked in Mike, but it wasn’t until after everyone left that he realized it was himself Will liked.
And Mike is a dumbass for that… because now it’s too late.
So, he hauls his ass out of his car and walks up to the doors to let him into the club.
Into what might tell him if he actually is what he thinks he is.
He pulls the handle, and walks in the door.
Some song he doesn’t recognize is playing in the background, lights of every color hit the walls and ricochet off of dancing bodies covered in glitter, dressed in clothes that would receive numerous hate crimes if this were his small hometown.
Sweat mixed with cologne and alcohol linger the air, the atmosphere electric and thick.
He slides up to the bar and pretends like he’s totally not about to turn back and crash his car into a stop sign so he doesn’t have to remember why he chose to do this.
“Holy shit…” He mutters under his breath, “Why the hell did I do this?” He buries his face in his hands, leaning against the counter- he hates parties and he hates drinking.
He despises it, actually. The smell wafting through the air alone is enough to make him want to leave- it reminds him of his parents.
His mom always got way too drunk, because his dad was too drunk and would-
“Can I get anything for ya tonight?” The bartender snaps him out of his spiral, Mike freezes for a moment-
“Uh- no I’m good, thanks.” He smiles awkwardly, clearly not used to this type of environment at all. The guy leaves to tend to a drunk couple a couple seats down from him, and Mike retreats to a corner next to the hallway leading to the bathrooms.
And he just watches.
He watches all the people messing around on the floor, partying, drinking, laughing and just being themselves.
He watches a gay couple sneak into the bathroom to do god knows what, but that’s not his issue.
The freedom he sees is not his issue.
It’s not his place.
What kind of person stands in the corner watching queer people being themselves just to see if they, themselves, are in-fact, also queer?
Mike Wheeler does.
__________________________________
“Hey there handsome, what’s your name?” A random guy slides up beside Mike after about 20 minutes- He’s wearing sparkly eyeshadow and an outfit that probably should’ve been kept in the closet like Mike himself.
He hesitates, trying to be polite and refuse the guy but he fails, “Uh I- I’m not- sorry.” Mike stammers, but the man leans in closer, his breath hot on his skin.
“Oh? Nobody has to know.” The guy smirks, his hands sliding up Mikes sides-
“Stop touching me-“ Mike spits as he shivers at the unwelcome contact and pushes him off, bolting for the bathroom.
The music and the commotion fade behind him as the door closes and he leans against the counter, breathing heavy. His legs and hands shake, he didn’t need to come here, he shouldn’t have.
He should’ve known this would happen and that this was a waste of time.
He sighs, splashing cold water on his face and trying not to cry.
Case closed: Self discovery is bullshit.
He dries off his face with a paper towel and stares at himself in the mirror for a long moment. He barely notices the couple making out in the stall until the door unlocks and the two guys walk out.
One of them is taller than the other, brown eyes and messy, darker hair- a huge grin plastered on his features. The other is a bit shorter, styled brown hair and a singular earring on the left ear, he kind of looks like-
“Will?” Mike mumbles, staring at the person in-front of him.
The person he’s barely talked to since the world almost ended.
The person who was his best friend for 19 years.
The person who was in love with him for half their lives but he was too oblivious to notice.
Will freezes, turning around, a look of confusion on his face to mirror Mike.
_____________________________________