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Mike was in a predicament.
Like, a real, life-changing, existential crisis. One that had been taking up far too much space in his already not-that-big brain, making it nearly impossible for any other thoughts to exist peacefully.
It all started last week. That treacherous week that Mike will never recover from.
It was a Friday, and he was hanging out alone with Will (his boyfriend as of recently). The two were in Mike's room, doing their regular couple activities (which were not much different from their best friend activities) consisting of just sitting on Mike’s bed, their legs tangled, shoulders pressed closely as they both worked on their own separate pieces of work.
Will was making some finishing touches to a new sketch for this Creative Arts class. Mike thought it was coming along beautifully, as do all his works (he might be a little biased). Mike was working on the chorus to a new song he was writing since he had recently added music to his sad list of hobbies.
A few months after Eddie's death, his uncle had tracked Mike and the rest of the party down to offer some of Eddie's belongings as gifts, claiming he didn’t know what to do with them. While Dustin and Lucas eyed his old D&D dice and a hellfire denim jacket, Mike was drawn to this old electric guitar. It wasn't Eddie's favourite (his ‘baby' as he liked to call it), which was unfortunately left in the upside down after his death, but instead it was his shitty backup that his uncle had found tucked away in his closet.
Mike had been given sheet music to learn, and while he was improving—slowly—he was still nowhere near good. He didn’t mind. Writing had always come more naturally to him than playing, which made sense considering his love for English and creating stories.
Right now, though, nothing felt easier than writing a song for the cute boy curled up next to him.
But anyways, the two were silent for a while, both focused on their separate works.
That was until a crackling noise was heard from over on Mike's side. He groaned loudly, upset he would need to move from his comfy position, but reluctantly reached to his side to get his walkie talkie.
Turned out this mystery radio-er was none other than their good friend Lucas Sinclair, as he had been reaching out to each party member asking them to come to his game that night.
The two rolled their eyes playfully, but said they would be there.
Besides their usual initial annoyance of having to leave the comfort of their little bubble, they always did like to cheer on their friend (even if he was a bench warmer most of the time).
When Will returned from California last Spring break, he was quick to scold each and every one of the party members for blowing Lucas off on his big night when he had scored their teams’ winning goal.
And since Mike is nothing but obedient…wait, that sounds wrong. Since he’s nothing but quick to comply to anything Will says, theres now this unspoken rule amongst all of them that they always go to Lucas’s shitty games.
Once the boys exchanged their “Overs” and “See you later's,” Mike turned off his own machine and set it back down.
When he looked back over to his boyfriend (which he still cannot get used to calling him), he had this goofy little smile that Mike thought was too adorable.
He asked what had him so happy and the boy bashfully shared a piece of information that had Mike quite taken aback for a moment.
He told him that while in California, he had gone to their school's gym for a few months after being influenced by his friend. Said friend was also on the school's wrestling team.
Mike thought about it, and came to the conclusion that it made perfect sense. You would have to blind not to notice the physical differences the younger Byer’s boy had been through over the last year and a half. Well, at least Mike has definitely noticed. The other had gotten much more buff and defined. His shoulders—broader, his waist—a little smaller, and his legs and thighs—just a little bigger.
Mike would never admit it out loud, but he liked it quite a bit, especially his waist, which he pleasantly found was nice to hold while cuddling.
What Mike was most surprised about was the fact that he had never heard of this supposed friend. So of course, he started firing off every question at the top of his head, his mouth moving faster than usual.
What was his name? How did you two meet? Was this just a friend or a friend-friend? Did you like him? What did he look like? Was he cute? Will giggled, saying he sounded a little jealous, which Mike obviously denied.
Will answered his questions anyways.
Charlie. Math class. No just a friend. No. Blonde hair and very muscular (why did he have to specify that?). Not as cute as you. Mike's cheeks flushed, finding them all sufficient enough.
“So this random buff blonde dude talked you into going to the gym?” Mike had asked, only realizing after that he wasn’t doing much to beat the jealousy allegations.
His boyfriend rolled his eyes. “He wasn’t some ‘random dude’ Michael, he was my friend. But yes, he told me he thought I’d be able to bench a lot.”
“He also tried to get me to try out for wrestling but I quickly turned that down.”
Mike smirked, teasing, “What? You don’t like the thought of being pressed up against other sweaty men for fun?”
Will didn’t even hesitate. “Only if it’s you.”
Mike felt his face go molten.
Now this is where the story goes rather downhill in Mike’s opinion.
The conversation was quickly shifted to Mike, as Will claimed he had never really seen Mike run, or really, do anything slightly active.
Mike was rather offended, saying he had run many times and began naming off said moments:
That time in the lab when we were running from the Demo-dogs.
Literally last week when you and Jane were chasing me with that frog.
PE class. (“You literally lied to Mr. Wilson that you had asthma!”) which is unfortunately true.
Tuesday when Ms. Hollinder's dog tried to chase me (“Mike, you can’t be serious. Bella is a weiner dog. That is the least frightening dog ever”).
And that’s where his sad list ends. So yes, maybe he did lie about some health issues, and maybe he did run away from a weiner dog, but in Mike’s defence that dog did look like it could charge at him any second.
But besides that, all of that doesn’t mean he wasn’t good at any physical activity. Mike tried telling him that too, but was only met with giggles and fond head shakes.
Now here. Here is exactly where Mike dug himself this deep hole.
The next words that flung out his mouth were traitorous, feeling like they took at least 10 years off his life.
“Well I bet I could pick you up no problem.”
Oh Mike, why do you say the things that you do?
The gleam in Wills eyes was enough to tell him that he definitely, 100% fucked up in that assumption.
Mike couldn’t really blame him for having doubt as he can admit he doesn’t exactly have the strongest build. But he’s naturally just always been on the skinnier side even since he was a younger. Although now with his recent growth spurt, the height only seems to extenuate his smaller frame.
Just from Will's reaction, he felt that he now had to prove him and everyone else that he is stronger than he looks, and that can most certainly pick up his own boyfriend.
“Oh, so you don’t believe I can?”
He was only met with a blank stare and a:“Mike, I already know you can’t”
That just seemed to fuel the urge more.
Not wasting any time, he stood and ventured to the middle of his room.
He took one moment to stretch, taking his arms above his head and to each side, and then for comedy purposes of course since he is nothing if not a comedian, took a few squats, not realizing how much they would actually burn and make his knees pop like he was 80 years old.
The delightful laugh from the handsome boy on his bed was enough to ease the pain as he looked over from his lying position with a big smile.
“You’re really about to do this?”
Mike gave a cocky grin and told him to come over.
When Will complied, he stood in front of him with his arms crossed, just waiting for the other to make his move.
Mike faltered for a moment, realizing he had never actually picked someone up, besides Holly when she was younger.
There was a distant memory in the back of his mind of holding up an unconscious Will Byers. Ha! See I have carried him before.
He was about to say that out loud, but the expectant look on his boyfriend's face told him he wasn’t getting out of this any time soon
Here goes nothing, was his last thought.
He awkwardly bent his knees, cringing at the way they popped once again and maneuvered his arms around Will so that one arm was around the small of his back and the other at the back of his thighs. He was apparently going for a bridal style pick up, which once again, he had never done.
He took in a quick breath, and tried to ignore the: “Well get on with it Wheeler” comment before scooping the latter off of his feet.
You see, in his head it looked and felt much smoother. He thought he would easily be able to lift the shorter boy, a sly grin on his face, while maybe even twirling him around a little for extra effects.
Well, it seemed Mike had been putting far too much trust in his very skeletal self as he felt his knees buckle almost immediately.
He heard Will yelp as he was now off the ground, obviously a little surprised he had even gotten him this high up.
It hadn’t lasted long at all, and Mike certainly wished he had at least done this in front of his bed in case of this inevitably going down hill.
He barely had time to register the horrified look on Will’s face before the two of them toppled backward onto the carpeted floor in a tangled heap of limbs and startled laughter.
“Mike!” Will said, half laughing, half panicked. “Are you okay?”
Mike groaned into the floor. “I think my dignity just died.”
That brings Mike to now—head down, sitting in front of a very amused (and a little annoyed) Lucas and Dustin in Lucas’s room.
He had been quite adamant about telling anyone this story in fear of being brutally made fun of (they did earlier), but the whole situation was beginning to be too much to handle alone and he felt he needed some advice.
He was already embarrassed enough having his own boyfriend know he was a weak loser, so really, his friends knowing didn’t bother him as much.
“It honestly could’ve been so much worse man.”
“Yeah totally, don’t beat yourself up.”
Not even bothering to lift his head from the pillow it was buried in, Mike just let out a loud groan.
Lucas, who was sitting beside him let his hand fall on his shoulder in comfort.
“Listen Mike, if you’re really this torn up, how about you come to the gym with me this Friday?”
Now that got his attention. He lifted his head a little.
“Really?”
Lucas nodded, “Yeah man, you definitely look like you need it.”
Mike made a face, offended. “Hey, I look fine. So what if I’m a little skinny.”
From where Dustin was sitting opposite Mike, he reached out to pinch his right bicep.
Mike yelped and ripped his arm away, “Asshole.”
Dustin just snickered, “Nope, no meat on those bones. No wonder he liked Charlie.”
Mike froze, eyes widening. He turned back to Lucas, an almost pleading look on his face.
“What time on Friday?”
“Four,” Lucas said. “After school.”
Mike hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Okay. Fine.”
Dustin gasped dramatically. “Wow. Wheeler voluntarily entering a gym. Mark the calendar.”
“You’re dead,” Mike muttered, throwing a spare pillow at him.
Lucas just shook his head, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “You’ll be fine, man. And if you hate it, you don’t have to go back.”
Mike leaned back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I think I just want to try.”
(For Will.)