Work Text:
His brush glides across the canvas with ease. The sunlight streaming through his windows highlights the dust floating in the air. Many years ago, when his back didn’t hurt the longer he stood and when he could survive a work day on minimal hours of sleep, the sight would have stopped him cold. A tremor and a flash. His throat would clog with something he couldn’t understand. Flickering lights and spindling vines would terrorise his vision. But now, with years of therapy under his belt, his past merely flickers behind his eyes. He moves on from the memories and ignores the ghost of pain that runs through his body. Things aren’t perfect. But for the first time in a long time, a reminder of childhood doesn’t paralyse him.
The easel that holds his latest creation sits in the centre of his art studio, a room that was earned from years of work and dedication. Will looks around the room and takes in his achievements. The walls were painted a warm beige with dark hardwood floors to complement them. One of the walls was littered with photos, sketches and his more prized paintings. In the centre of the disorganised collage sits a photo. Will stands in the middle with one arm around Jane and the other around Jonathon. His mother and Hopper stood off to the side, both gazing at a painting. His friends are scattered around the background of the photo, exploring the gallery. It was his first gallery. The first place to love his work and to want to display it. He looks at his smiling face and ignores the lovelorn look of his best friend.
///////
“Hey Nance,” Jonathan hands his camera to Nancy, “Can you take a picture of us?”
“Sure.” She smiles, her perfectly painted lips glistening under the bright lights and her curly hair slightly bouncing as she nods. Jonathon moves back to Will’s side and they all smile widely as the camera clicks. The gallery has rules against certain cameras and flashing lights so the trio are blessed with not being blinded. Jonathon assures Will that editing can fix any photo so the lack of flash won’t affect the photos. Or at least it won’t look too bad.
Jonathon walks back to Nancy to collect his camera but falters when he notices her concerned expression.
“Don’t worry if it doesn’t look good, my editing skills have gotten a lot better over the years.” He laughs. His voice brings her back to reality and she tears her eyes away from her brother's face. She hadn’t seen him when taking the picture. When she looks up, she sees him standing a little behind where Jane and Will are now talking. She never really knew what yearning looked like, but Mike has now shown her. When he and Jane broke up, it seemed mostly mutual. However Nancy was now beginning to doubt. Unless she wasn’t…
“Oh,” Jonathon was now looking at the photo, “It’s fine, I’ll crop him out.” He smiles sympathetically at her. Just because they weren’t together, didn’t mean he couldn’t look out for her brother. She nods and strides over to Mike.
Will watches Nancy's concerned face and can’t help but feel anger rise, why couldn’t one day not be about the tumultuous relationship between his sister and best friend.
///////
He can’t believe that was fifteen years ago. He can’t believe it’s been fifteen years since he’s talked to Mike. His gaze returns to his painting and decides he has nothing more to add. As he lifts his hand to grab the doorknob, his phone rings. Dustin's toothy grin overtakes his screen and he huffs a small laugh at the sight.
“Hey Dustybun.”
“Not funny.” A monotone voice crackles through Will's now old and paint covered phone. He should be more careful with his phones.
“I think it was very funny.” Another voice pipes up, one that makes him smile widely.
“Jane! To what do I owe the honour?” He jokes, finally going through his door and making his way to his small kitchen. When Will bought his cottage, the kitchen was one of the largest rooms in the house and he immediately decided on renovations to convert it to an art studio. He didn’t particularly care for cooking so he chose a random room on the first floor to become his kitchen. He didn’t really register how small the room actually was until he burnt his hand when taking a pot of hot water off the stove and knocking into his fridge. As he fills a kettle with water and starts prepping a cup of tea, Jane responds.
“Well we had an insane idea for our wedding and we want your opinion on it.
“Okay.” He drawls, his eyes squinting as he pours the now boiling water into his mug.
“Since we want a small wedding and the pictures you’ve sent of where you live are just so beautiful. We thought, maybe we should get married in England!”
Will has been standing dumbstruck for a good few minutes before Dustin's voice comes back through.
“We’ve already talked to everyone and they are all excited. We don’t expect you to house any of us but we do want to see where you live and visit your gallery. Oh and…” Dustin continues speaking but Will starts to tune out his wedding plans.
His family and friends in England. None of them ever visited, he argued that it makes more sense for him to fly over then for everyone to come to him. But now they’re all coming. Mike will be coming. Will suddenly drops to a crouch and places his head in one of his hands. His other, now trembling, hand still held his phone.
“So what do you think?” Dustin's normally confident voice now sounds nervous.
“I love it.” He hesitantly responds. He can practically feel their smiles.
“Yes!”
Will laughs at Dustin's enthusiasm and tries to shake off the nerves.
“We got to go, we have a lot to plan. Miss you buddy!”
“Miss you!” Jane’s voice pipes back up again before they hang up.
“Miss you.” He whispers, to no one.
An hour later, Will is still in his crouched position and he hears the door open.
“Oh, love.” A gentle voice croons. Adrian.
///////
Will was standing in an impossibly tiny apartment. No, not apartment, flat. He can’t believe he’s here. In an English flat that’s on the same street as the gallery that was now under his supervision. He sits heavily onto an old mattress in his bedroom. The walls were a dark orange and he couldn’t understand why anyone would paint their walls this colour. The furniture is dusty and gives a strange damp smell. He needs to move, as soon as possible. Just as he moves to grab his laptop to start looking for a new place, his doorbell rings.
He opens the door to the most handsome man he has ever seen. His tan arms are barely contained by a t-shirt that clings to his wet chest. His blond wavy hair sits just below his ears and the smell of sea salt and sun lotion overtake Will’s senses.
“Hi! I’m Adrian, I live next door.” His smile is toothy and bright. Will flushes under his gaze.
“Oh, uh hi.” He stutters out. A few awe filled seconds pass before Will goes bright red.
“I’m Will! Sorry, I’m uh Will.” He bursts out with. Adrian laughs and it's sweet, melodic.
///////
Will looks up and feels the weight of time. That first meeting was so long ago, they were a lot younger and dumber. It took a long time before he realised that Adrian was flirting with him. It took even longer for Will to do anything about that. Their relationship was intense, fast and he longs for that youthful passion now. Adrian moves towards him and Will feels his knees click as he rises. The blond boy goes to say something but doesn’t get the chance to. Their lips clash and Adrian’s hands grip Will’s hips tightly before moving under his shirt. The heat between the two grows as their bodies grind against each other.
He does not think about Mike.
He doesn’t.
A few hours later, Will is sticky with sweat and Adrian is sleeping beside him. Staring at his ceiling, he tries not to cry.
Will is cleaning. Every inch of the cottage has been cleaned and dusted. Adrian watches in amusement at his boyfriend.
“Haven’t you known these people your whole life?” He laughs, “I think they’ll be fine if the house doesn’t look like it came out of a magazine.”
Will shoots him a glare and rearranges the pillows for the hundredth time.
“It just needs to be perfect, okay?” He snaps, hitting the pillow with a bit too much force. He rests his hands on the couch and he closes his eyes. Adrian walks over and rests his chin on Will’s shoulder, his arm wrapping around his waist.
“I’ll be here and if they’re pricks, I’ll kick them out.” He jokes. The humour doesn’t put either at ease. Especially when the doorbell rings.
“Oh god.” Will looks to the ceiling and breathes.
“Will!” He isn’t sure which of the crowd of people specifically shout his name because before he can process the sound, he has an armful of Jane. She hugs tightly and kisses his cheek before pulling away.
“This is going to be amazing.” She says. Dustin throws an arm around her shoulder.
“Fuck yeah it will!”
The majority of the wedding guests decided, like any normal person, to spend the first day in England going to their hotel and resting before wedding activities start. Unfortunately his friends were not normal and refused to wait a day before seeing their long lost party member.
Will could see a mess of dark hair near the back of the group and his stomach drops. Each one of their friends gives him a hug before heading into his living room. Adrian greets them all politely.
“Man Will, you should have warned us how gorgeous your boy is.” Max laughs, ogling his boyfriend. He can hear an exclaim of ‘You can’t even see him!’. Lucas laughs loudly and kisses the side of her head.
“He’s gorgeous and unavailable so don’t try.”
Adrian flushes under the attention and follows the couple into the living room. Will realizes too late that he and Mike are now alone. Mike’s face is stoic and unbothered. The rage he distantly remembers starts to bubble up.
“Look, Will-”
He doesn’t let him finish.
“We’re not doing this.” He spits coldly.
“We are getting through this wedding, we will be civil and then you can go back to your favourite activity. Pretending I don’t exist.” When Will said the words, he hopes that Mike is intimidated and knows that he’ll argue back. But as the words sit between them and Mike’s face shifts, Will fights the urge to vomit. Because Mike isn’t doing either option. He is just standing there, with the most heart broken face Will has ever seen.
Mike is older which logically he knew. He was older too. But seeing how different and mature he looks now, Will feels lost. He’s still handsome, even as he’s clearly approaching his mid forties. Glasses now sit on his face and the slightest bit of darkness sits beneath his eyes. He hasn’t slept well for the past couple of nights, neither has Will.
“Okay.” Mike whispers, a slight shine now gracing his eyes. Will has spent the past few years wondering how he always gave into him and seeing him now, he knows why. Mike moves past him and enters the loud living room.
That night, Will stares at the ceiling and Adrian has an arm wrapped around him.
Will thinks about Mike.
He does.
The next morning finds Will in a small café with his family. Joyce and Hopper are sitting close together, their hands clasped together underneath the table. Jonathon is talking animatedly to Jane about his latest film.
“No, you see, cannibalism is often used as a metaphor for love.”
“I don’t understand how eating someone's eye is loving?” Jane genuinely asks. Before Jonathon can launch into a rant about horror tropes, Joyce turns to Will.
“So how was it seeing everyone again?” She asks the question casually while taking a bite out of a Cherry Bakewell. The rest of the table goes silent and sends Will worried looks.
“It was,” He pauses to push away thoughts of a depressing look thrown his way, “Good. I’ve missed them.” He finally says. Jonathon places a hand on Will’s arm as the silence around the table grows tense. Jane looks especially anxious which makes his stomach twist.
“By the way, I think eating someone’s eye is very romantic.” Will jokes and the tension eases. But not without Jane looking at him, a look he knows as ‘we need to talk’.
He’s not proud of his actions, but Will avoids Jane. He has a feeling she wants to talk about the fight.
///////
Nancy leaves Mike’s side for the first time since the photo and Will moves to talk to him. Despite his anger, he is worried. Something was wrong and Will is a fool in love. A fool who is willing to comfort the boy he loves as he aches for a girl. However someone is talking to him and Mike leaves his eyeline. By the time Will is left alone, Mike is gone. The anger rises again. This was supposed to be his night and his best friend couldn’t hold it together to stay for a little longer. He hadn’t even talked to Will since arriving.
He needs to cool off. He finds the backdoor and walks past the servers taking a smoke break. Will doesn’t cool off because the very reason he is angry is standing outside. Talking to Jane.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Will mutters. Despite how quietly he believes he said it, both heads snap towards him. He thinks, fuck it.
“You are seriously so self centred that you can’t keep your relationship drama away for one night!” His face flushes with anger.
“Will, it’s not like that.” Mike says softly, not looking in his eyes. Will hates how he wants to feel bad for him. He hates it even more that he doesn’t.
“Then why have you spent the whole night not talking to me on the biggest night of my life? Why is Jane the only person you seem to care about anymore?” He’s raising his voice and it feels unfair but he can’t hold it in anymore. He feels an ounce of regret when he sees the hurt look on Jane's face.
“I’m sorry that my whole life doesn’t centre around you! But some of us have more important shit to worry about than some silly paintings.” Mike yells back. Because he’s Mike and he always fights back. Jane’s face morphs from hurt to shock. Will feels like the ground is swallowing him and he can’t fight the tears streaking his cheeks.
“Fuck you. If you don’t want to be here then leave.” He says, barely restraining his voice from shaking.
Will knew Mike would follow him back into the gallery and they’d make up like they always did after a fight. That night was the first time Mike defied his expectations. The second came the next day when Will tried to call him to apologise and he didn’t pick. He didn’t pick up any calls. Will gave up trying. Then he moved.
///////
The gallery Will works in is called The Pipeline. It’s only a thirty minute drive from where he lives and if he’s being honest he would drive four hours everyday just to work there. The gallery is technically a warehouse. It had been restored and had rooms added to it to make it almost more a museum than a gallery. It was big and housed some of the greatest artists of Europe and there’s nowhere Will would rather be. Being able to run The Pipeline and to connect with so many like minded and talented people helped him finally feel a sense of belonging. Something he hasn’t felt since he first became friends with Mike on that swing set all those years ago. Which is why, the night before his friend's wedding, he is here. Staring at a tall statue and thinking how long ago that really was. Thinking about how old they are and how different things are.
He vaguely notices other people moving around him, looking at the statue or at the other pieces scattered around the room. The room he is in features works from artists who were inspired by works of fantasy and medieval stories. The statue is of a Knight with a sword thrust into the air and his hand resting on his chest. He breathes heavily and looks down at the plaque that says the title of the piece.
‘The Heart’
Will wonders if Mike has thrown away his painting. The one he poured his love into and in a moment of desperation, claimed Jane to be the soul bearer. Despite the cool air in the room all he can feel is the heat of a van in the middle of a desert. He feels the heat of an explosion and the heartbreak of a reunion. His hands have begun trembling and his chest starts to tighten. Suddenly the lights are flickering and panic starts seeping through his brain. He frantically looks around, trying to remember where the exit is. His gaze ends up on someone across the room, standing on the other side of the statue. Mike. Their eyes meet and Will’s breathing feels less heavy. The lights stop flickering, though he now registers they never were. Will hopes his residing panic and still trembling hands are not noticeable. Mike is moving towards him and Will can’t seem to leave.
“Hey, let’s go outside.” His hand is on Will’s arm. He follows willingly.
Will is crouching by a bin. His head is in his hands and Mike is softly rubbing his back. A sadistic part of his brain tells him that the last time they were in an alleyway by some bins was the last time they were friends. Once he feels more stable, he finally speaks.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t,” He hesitates, feeling far too vulnerable in front of someone who isn’t really a friend anymore, “I don’t do this anymore.” He finally breathes out. Mike is silent for a long while, his hand never leaving Will.
“I haven’t either, but sometimes…” He speaks softly and Will wants to hit him.
“It can’t be helped.”
Will looks up at him and for a second he looks like the boy he used to know. Young and sympathetic, telling him that they’ll go crazy together. He didn’t realise how much he missed him.
“Why are you here?” He asks instead of confessing a sad truth.
“I wanted to see your work, see what you’ve been up to.” Mike smiles sadly.
Will stands abruptly, nearly knocking Mike over.
“Why do you care now?” He says bitterly. Mike stands slowly, his knees clearly not that of a young man anymore.
“I always cared Will.”
“Right.” He responds sarcastically.
“I’m sorry. I fucked up!” His hands gesture wildly before landing in his hair.
“I have spent fifteen years hating myself for that night! I know I should've called and I should have been a better friend. But I wasn’t and I’m sorry. I don’t like pretending you don’t exist. I don’t even know how to not think about you, let alone finding enjoyment in not knowing you.” Mike sighs heavily and runs a hand down his face. Mike looks away, his eyes landing on a bin being vicariously attacked by seagulls.
“I was scared. I felt like everyone was moving on with their lives and I was stuck. Stuck in Hawkins, stuck in the upside down. But mostly, I felt like I was losing.” He pauses, tears brimming his eyes.
“You weren’t losing anyone. You were so important to all of us, to Jane. You never would have lost her. Even when you were an asshole, the only person you lost…” Will stops because saying it out loud felt cruel. But as the silence stretches and the words settle in, Will realises something.
“I was scared of losing you, ” Mike finally looks at him. “I was only ever scared of losing you.”
Will turns, intending to leave when Mike speaks again.
“I know that the painting was from you, I think I always knew but I was afraid. Because every letter I wrote to you that summer ended with love, Mike.”
“Why didn’t you send them?” Will asks quietly.
“I couldn’t.”
Jane’s dress was simple and elegant. A lacy ankle length dress that fit nicely on her body. She insisted on Nancy doing her hair and makeup, she told Nancy a story from when she was younger that had Nancy misty eyed. Will had observed from across the room as his mum helped him do his tie. Now he was standing with her, in front of a mirror with mist in his own eyes. He places a hand on her shoulder.
“You look beautiful.”
She turns and embraces him tightly.
“Thank you.” She whispers, not ready to let him go.
“He didn’t want to hurt you, please you need to know how much he cares.” She pulls back to look him in his eyes and he nods.
“I know.” He responds, tearfully.
The ceremony was held in the garden of a manor house and not a single one of their eyes were dry by the end. Dustin looked handsome and stared at her with so much love, it made Will envious. Adrian held his hand throughout but Will wished he hadn’t. He was a good guy who loved him and Will felt evil because a few seats down was the boy he thought he had fallen out of love with. Because despite how they’ve changed and grown, Mike Wheeler was still the boy he was madly in love with. For the first time since that phone call, time didn’t weigh on him.
Dustin and Jane followed most wedding traditions. A dinner, dancing, toasts and the tearjerking father-daughter dance. But when the night came to a close, they only had one request from Will.
“And then he fell right into a bush!” Lucas gestures wildly, his beer sloshing around in his hand. Will tries not to think about how his drunk friends will dirty his house. He laughs instead.
“Ah man Will, I wish you could’ve been there.” Dustin slurs happily with an equally tipsy Jane snoring softly in his arms.
“It sounded like fun, next time I’m in America we’ll go out.” He replies, appeasing the drunk groom.
His eyes look over the room, taking in his drunk and happy friends. All gleefully happy except Mike. Everything in him wants to go by his side and comfort him but he knew he couldn’t. He shouldn’t want to but he does.
A kettle is boiling water and Will is preparing a cup of tea.
“Since when do you drink tea?” Mike asks, leaning against the door frame of the impossibly small kitchen.
“When in Rome.” Will mutters turning to face him. Mike huffs a small laugh.
“When in Rome.” He replies. Will turns to grab another mug and the kettle starts to whistle. He’s fairly certain Mike has never drunk a cup of tea his entire life so he makes his tea the same as he makes his own. He hands the mug over and their fingers touch. A slight bolt of electricity shoots through him and the touch lingers. He watches as Mike takes a sip and sees him fail to hide the disgust. He can’t help but laugh.
“You like this?” Mike says, staring daggers at the offending drink.
“It’s an acquired taste.” He says through laughter.
“You know, I was snooping through your little shelf of books and noticed an interesting read.” Mike smirks. Will rolls his eyes.
“I know what book you're talking about,” He grins, “It’s by that arrogant small town boy, right?”
Mike laughs and nods.
“Yeah, I heard he’s bad at endings.”
“Oh, dreadful. But the start was pretty fantastic.” Will can feel the foolish fondness in his eyes and is only comforted by the fact the same look is mirrored in Mike's.
They stare at each other as Will enjoys his tea and Mike attempts to enjoy his. They’re both smiling and he can’t help but feel a certain warm domestic feeling that he never felt with Adrian.
They all slept in Will's living room. It wasn’t the best idea, considering they are all approaching middle age, and the morning was spent complaining about aching muscles over coffee.
Once the party had left, Will stood in his studio. He stares at the painting he left on his easel and hears Adrian enter.
“I always thought the boy in your paintings was someone you made up. Then there he was.” Adrian says sadly from behind Will.
“I didn’t realise I…” He tries to think of a defence, any sort of reasoning for the constant appearance of a dark haired boy in his paintings. Adrian comes to stand by Will and places a kiss on his cheek.
“I’m going to pack my stuff.”
The smell of sea salt and sun lotion hung in the air long after Adrian left.
Will says goodbye to them all in the airport. It’s filled with tears and hugs far too reminiscent of getting in a car set for LA. The air is littered with promises of visit and hopeful future plans that make waving goodbye even harder. The past isn’t weighing on him but the future is too far away. The present is lonely and Will doesn’t know how to deal with it. He turns and slowly makes his way out of the airport. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and wills away his tears. His concentration on staying presentable prevents him from hearing footsteps running towards him. He suddenly feels a hand on his arm.
“I can’t do this.”
Will turns and looks at Mike.
“I can’t do these awful hellos and devastating goodbyes. I can’t keep losing you.” His voice cracks on the word ‘losing’.
“When I was younger I thought that you were my best friend and that’s what I felt. I thought I felt love with Jane and thought that was what heartbreak was. But it wasn’t. Love is what I felt when you went missing and I couldn’t sit still till I found you. Love was fighting everyone who tried to hurt you, who did hurt you. Love was regretting every awful thing I’ve said to you. Love was sitting in the back seat of that van and love was sitting next to you on that tower, telling you we were friends. But we’re not friends. We are so much more and I can’t keep leaving. I can’t keep losing you.” Mike’s eyes are shining and his hands are shaking.
“I’m in love with you. I have been since we were kids and I will spend the rest of my life making up for all those lost years and awful words.”
Will is in shock, breathless. He lets the silence stretch and Mike's eyes grow more watery.
“If you’ll let me.”
Will doesn’t let the silence sit this time. He grabs Mike’s collar and brings their lips together. It’s imperfect and sloppy, every emotion pouring out into this singular action. Mike’s arms wrap around Will’s waist and bring them even closer together. They pull back and rest their foreheads against each other. Will can’t bring himself to open his eyes, scared to face whatever future they have ahead of them.
“I love you.” Will whispers. Mike places a gentle kiss on his lips.
“But how do we do this?” He asks.
“I think to start, I need to start getting used to tea.”