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Mike couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe-
El’s mindscape stretched out before them in inky black, suffocating darkness. Mike’s vision blurred, and he choked on the sobs which crawled up his throat. It was like a nightmare. A bad dream.
The fight was over. They’d vanquished Vecna and the Upside Down once and for all, and, despite the relief he should be feeling considering how terrifying the past few hours had been, Mike just felt like was sinking. They were losing El. Mike was losing El- she was slipping through his fingers and all Mike could think, could stutter out, was no, no, you can’t do this. You can’t do this, I need you!
Because he did. More than anything. And yeah, the past year had been complicated. They weren’t exactly together anymore; they weren’t even on and off. When, once back from California, Mike had asked El if they were okay, she’d just touched his hand gently. Then she’d looked him in the eye and said, firmly, that there were more important things to worry about. At that moment, Mike had lashed out selfishly- their relationship was important too, wasn’t it? He needed to keep it stable. It was his one constant.
Even once they’d faded to friends, Mike had kept convincing himself that they’d work it out, sure that once it was all over, El would want to be his girlfriend again.
And Mike would feel okay again. With a bit of luck, maybe he’d even feel like a real person again.
Maybe he’d stop questioning his every heartbeat.
Mike didn’t know what he’d do if she left now, just like she had four years ago, disappearing and leaving a devastated Mike staring at a blank classroom wall where a gate to another dimension used to be.
What would he do if she died?
He was losing control of everything around him. He couldn’t keep El safe; he couldn’t protect her, like he’d thought he’d been able to do as a kid, hiding her in his basement. At twelve years old, when he’d get scared, he’d just imagine himself as Mike the Brave. A paladin, a shining knight with adamantine armor. That Mike was unyielding. That Mike could handle anything.
Mike didn’t feel very brave right now. He felt stupid and pathetic and exhausted, holding El by the arms with stiff fingers, begging.
After everything, this couldn’t happen.
“El, no, no, please-” he sniffed. “I need you.”
“Mike.” El was crying too. “I have to. It’s the only way. It's my choice.”
Mike kind of collapsed into her, pressing their foreheads together. He watched El’s face screw up.
“I love you.” She whispered. Her words held a sense of finality to them.
Mike opened his mouth. I-
But all he could do was swallow a sob. And then-
“I need you,” Mike said again, dancing around the right words. His voice sounded small, like a child’s.
He still couldn’t say it. After everything.
El brought a hand up to cup Mike’s face and Mike thought she might try to kiss him. But she only stroked his cheek with her thumb.
“You don’t love me.” She said, firmly.
“What?” Mike panicked, grabbing her wrist. “I do, I- do-”
El shook her head. “Not like that.” Her voice wasn’t sad. Just… calm.
How was she so calm?
“I mean, yes, you love me, Mike. But I’m not stupid. You love me like you love all of your friends. But not like you keep telling yourself you do.”
“What do you…” Mike exhaled.
“The problem is that you think you need me.” El said firmly. “And you think that I have to need you.” She just smiled sadly. “That does not work. We should not have to be tied to each other by necessity.”
“What’re you saying?” Mike’s head ached. He wanted to scream, tell her she was wrong. But he couldn’t. Because she wasn’t.
“You deserve someone you want.” El’s eyes were glassy, lip trembling as she spoke.
The name that flashed through Mike’s head at El’s words made guilt curl in his stomach.
Mike didn’t deserve anything of the sort.
“No, I- I want you, I-” Mike said, growing even more panicked.
“Friends don’t lie.” El said firmly.
Mike just blinked, hiccuping. He didn’t fight back.
El pulled him into a hug and he accepted the embrace. “You were my first friend, Mike Wheeler. Thank you for teaching me what that word means.” She soothed a hand through his hair. “These past few months, being friends with you? They have been my happiest with you. I need you to know that.”
“El-” Mike whispered, tears streaming freely down his face as he clutched her.
“You are going to be okay, Mike. Take care of everyone for me, alright? Hopper especially. Joyce too. And Will and Jonathan. They were the best brothers. Will… being connected to Henry hurt him. A lot. Make sure he is okay.”
Will screaming, wailing on the ground, veins popping, eyes milky white. His own mother chopping Vecna’s head off. The way Will collapsed about halfway through, once Vecna was truly gone, the connection severed for the last time.
Mike remembered Joyce’s horrified expression as she held her boy. Will had been sobbing, retching, gasping for breath, and Mike just stood there, stone-still, unable to move. He’d wanted to sprint to him, pull into his arms and whisper that the pain was over, that it was finally over-
Mike would never, ever forget that. No matter how hard he tried.
“Mike, I have to go.” El pried herself away, touching his cheek again. “Max is my best friend. So do not give her too hard a time, okay?” She leaned in and whispered: “She doesn’t really hate you. She thinks you are funny.”
Mike laughed tearily despite himself. “Okay.”
“And make sure Lucas doesn’t give himself a hard time, like he does a lot, because he is so good,” she was rushing now, and Mike wondered belatedly if time worked differently here. “And Dustin- he’s sad. It does not take a genius to see that. Be there for him. Do not leave him.”
Mike shook his head furiously. “I won’t. I won’t.”
“Promise not to leave our friends.” She held out her pinky, smiling gently.
Mike was sobbing again, big heaving sobs. “I promise,” he murmured, hooking their pinkies together like they were little kids again. “And friends don’t- friends don’t lie.”
El stood on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek. And then the warmth of her hand was gone. And Mike was falling out of the void, back to the cruel, screaming world.
-
18 months later, Mike sat on Will’s bed, staring at his best friend’s graduation gown.
“It’s just so… orange,” Will made a face at the fabric in his hands. He looked up at Mike. “I mean, does that make sense to you at all? Orange?”
Mike stood, grabbing the matching cap and placing it on Will’s head with a grin. Will’s hair went flat over his eyes. “I dunno, Graduate,” Mike teased, flicking the tassel.
Will stuck out his tongue, pushing his hair off his forehead. “I still wish they'd stuck with green, like Jonathan and Nancy got. Why would they change the color? Is that even allowed?” He sighed. “At least I'd look okay in green.” His voice had a little whine to it, and Mike held back a snicker. Will was usually an incredibly agreeable person, it took a lot for him to get actually annoyed at something. But even Will Byers had his little tics.
“I’m sure you look just as good in orange,” Mike said seriously. Will tended to look great in warmer colors anyway; they complimented his eyes. Mike didn’t know what he was on about.
Will just shook his head and quickly turned away, beginning to go through a stack of papers on his desk. “Right,” he said quietly.
The silence that followed set Mike’s stomach plummeting. He’d been dreading graduation for ages, and now that they were so close, every moment alone sent him spiraling. He’d woken up anxious, gut twisting, unable to eat. To make matters worse, his mom had knocked on his door maybe ten times that morning, like she had to make sure he wasn’t already gone and did in fact have a whole summer left in Hawkins. Mike was so on edge that after a few hours he grabbed for the phone, ringing up a sleepy Will.
He’d biked over to the cabin, despite having passed his drivers test a few months prior; he thought it would be nice to feel the breeze reddening his cheeks again, feel his knuckles tighten around the handlebars as the world flew by. Just for a second, he wanted to feel like a kid again.
Mike watched Will as sorted through some cassettes. Mike’s eyes lingered on the curve of his cheek, the flutter of his lash, the place where his t-shirt had been left untucked from his cuffed bluejeans. He was fascinated by the way Will rested his weight on one leg, his left foot hooked behind his right ankle. His stupid yellow socks.
Mike felt as if he’d been drenched in cold water. All too familiar guilt crept up his spine.
You’re in her room.
Before 1987, this exact room, in the back of what was now the Hopper-Byers cabin, had belonged to El. To- to Jane. Mike was sitting here, on her brother’s blue bedspread, staring at Will with no regard for her memory. The familiar, little voice in his head hissing that he shouldn’t be thinking this.
Mike knew that it’d been too long. That everyone else had accepted it, had moved on knowing that Jane had made her choice, and he should too. And he was trying, he was getting there. But it was just so hard.
He’d spent his teenage years playing pretend with Jane when all she deserved was unfiltered, honest love. Not only a good boyfriend, but a good best friend, too. She’d deserved so much more than Mike’s inability to love her.
Inibility, used here because Mike was… well, because he didn’t like girls.
He’d used Jane to keep himself safe. Of course, at first it hadn’t been that way; at twelve, Mike had been enamored by her. She was incredible- not only hilarious and kind and pretty, but powerful too, a real superhero like Mike read about in his comics.
But all the while, Jane hadn’t just been keeping Mike safe from monsters and the government; she’d been keeping him safe from the part of himself which he’d do anything to deny.
And the worst part? He’d known, since the nightmarish summer of ‘85, exactly how he felt. But he’d convinced himself, praying each night (despite his distaste for any sort of divine worship) that he’d eventually grow to like kissing her. That someday his heart would start beating faster when she walked into a room.
That as long as she was by his side, those feelings, those shameful, scary, breathless feelings would leave him alone.
This wasn’t true, of course. That just wasn’t how it worked. But it didn’t stop Mike from trying.
And she’d died. Jane had sacrificed herself to stop the exploitation, the manipulation of hundreds of women and children. Despite everything she’d gone through, she’d never, ever walked out on what she cared about.
Mike admired that more than anything. And he’d hurt her. He’d hurt someone he cared about. And it wasn’t just her- he’d hurt him. Will. Because he’d been too trapped in his own little world to notice. And he’d never forgive himself for that.
“I think I might do this one,” Will said, holding up a cassette of Bowie’s Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps). “You think I’ll get yelled at?”
Mike blinked. He’d nearly forgotten that Will was in the middle of picking an album to paint on his graduation cap. “I mean, probably.” Mike shrugged. “But who cares? What’re they gonna do, expel you?” He laughed a little. “Forget it literally being graduation day, imagine expelling Will Byers.”
Will shot him a sheepish smile, eyes sparkling. “Shut up,” he murmured playfully.
Mike’s heart skipped a beat and he swallowed, mind going kind of blank. “No,” he whispered.
Will’s smile changed but Mike couldn’t place how exactly it did so. He sat down next to Mike, their elbows brushing. “I think the colors of this one are gonna work well with the cap. Especially the pale blue.” Will leaned back against the pillows, pressing a pencil to the cap. “Fingers crossed. Not that I believe in all that,” he chuckled. “Not after everything.”
Mike couldn’t take his eyes off of Will. He never could, nowadays.
Mike had been getting better these last few months. He’d been slowly accepting the part of himself which he’d refused for so long. Accepting that it wasn’t going to change, no matter how many girls he kissed in college or how many scary headlines he saw on TV.
Accepting it meant not hurting anyone else because of it, unintentionally or otherwise.
With Will, too, he was trying. Trying not to hate himself each time Will’s gaze made him dizzy. Because Mike couldn’t handle getting so lost in doubt that he lost Will again. He couldn’t lose the one person he cared about the most.
Because Will was, after everything, that person.
He always had been.
And Mike had almost lost him completely, after everything. Mike, trapped in a months-long spiral, had shut down. It had been bad with Lucas and Dustin, but it had been hundreds of times worse with Will.
He’d been bitterly jealous that Will had said those four words which, at the time, Mike couldn’t even say out loud while alone. He had still hoped, horribly, that maybe his grief would bloom into a realization that he had loved Jane all along. His jealousy at Will’s openness and confidence bubbled up like resentment.
It’d worked itself out in the end, The two of them always did, didn’t they?
Eventually, Mike had realized something that had changed his perspective.
Jane had been his best friend in those last months, the interlude of their relationship. Mike had never felt more at ease, sitting next to her, chatting about training or comics or comparing all the things they missed from before the quarantine.
He’d spent so long pretending that he was in love with her, that he’d missed what was right in front of him: a bright, cleverly hilarious, headstrong person who cared about him.
That was the girl he was left endlessly mourning. One of the best friends he would ever have.
The same girl who’d told him, in her last moments, to find the person he wanted.
Mike still got the horrible thoughts, telling him to stay away from Will, telling him to leave it and drown in his memories. Sometimes he let his guilt suffocate him. But for the most part, he knew how to handle it now. To separate fact from fiction.
Despite this, today was hard. Tomorrow would be even harder. Mike hadn’t felt like this in a long time; tomorrow was the day which marked the official end of their childhood, like Mike was expected to be something more the moment he graduated. Like he was supposed to suddenly become a real, living, breathing man: doing taxes, wearing a tie, and looking for a wife.
Mike didn’t want to be that kind of man.
But the guilt kept a-knocking (so did the taxes, quite literally; those would be inescapable either way).
“Hey, you okay?” Will’s hand landed on Mike’s shoulder.
Mike swallowed and nodded. “Just…”
“Anxious for tomorrow?”
Mike cracked a smile. “You know me too well, Byers.”
Will rolled his eyes. “I’d hope I do, we’re best friends afterall.”
Friends? No thanks. Best friends.
Mike cringed at the memory. Cringed at his own idiocy. He’d had a chance, back then. There was a chance, albeit a slim one, that the boy Will had been talking about was Mike. Even at a repressed sixteen, Mike let himself wonder, heart skipping, tumbling over his own words once he’d finally found the guts to bring it up. He’d wanted to ask, then. Who Will’s Tammy was. But asking meant acknowledging it.
“I just… it’s hard.”
Will put a hand on Mike’s. “I know. Jane was supposed to graduate with us. She should be standing up there on that stage too.”
Mike nodded, swallowing. He didn’t say anything.
Will looked thoughtfully at him. “Mike, I- I hope you know you can talk to me. It seems like you’ve been doing better, like, on the outside, but I just want to make sure you’re okay. ‘Cause-”
“It was bad for a long time,” Mike finished for him. “I know.”
Will squeezed his hand then pulled away. “She was your first love,” Will whispered. “I can’t imagine that.”
“It’s not just that.” Mike said, staring at the comforter. “It’s not even- it’s not that at all, actually.”
Will furrowed his brow.
“I was such a shit boyfriend.” Mike said softly. “A shit friend, too. I was only worried about myself, and honestly? I’m not much better now.”
Will shook his head quickly. “Mike, no. You have no reason to feel guilty, especially now. You’ve been mourning, and, before, you were-”
“I do,” Mike said quickly. “I do have a reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t say it.” Mike’s chest twinged, his breaths coming out shakier. He’d never said this out loud to anyone. He couldn’t look Will in the eye. “Not even in her last moments. And I’ve been trying so hard to be okay, I just-”
“Say what, Mike?” Will looked genuinely confused.
“I love you. Will, I couldn’t say I loved her.”
Will blinked. “I don’t understand, I thought-”
Mike shook his head. “After my whole speech at Surfer Boy, I- I could never say it to her face. I think that’s partially why we took a break. And then when she pulled me into her mind…”
“What’d she tell you?” Will breathed.
“She said that needing each other instead of wanting each other wasn’t love. And she was right, Will.”
Mike looked up at Will, whose eyes were glassy.
“I was the only one of us who needed that relationship.” He shook his head. “Jane never needed me.” He swallowed. “I wanted to be needed, I didn’t want her.” Shit, he shouldn’t have- “I mean, I did. But only as-”
Tears blurred Mike’s vision. He couldn’t believe he was saying all of this out loud.
“-only like a friend. I loved her, Will. So much. Just not in the way I was supposed to. And she knew it. And I… I’ve spent so long resenting that.” The ache in his chest, the need to cry, or maybe just keep talking, continued to grow. “Resenting the fact that I just couldn’t feel the way she needed me to, resenting the fact that she knew. Because it wasn’t fair to her. She was incredible and I just fucked up probably the most important part of all of it.”
Will looked stunned. He didn’t say anything.
Panic began to swell in Mike’s chest. Of course. He thinks I’m terrible. He thinks I’m a fucking asshole. Of course.
Mike stood suddenly, the pressure behind his eyes worsening. “Nevermind,” he mumbled thickly. “I- I’m sorry.” In seconds he was out the door, down the hall, ignoring Will’s calls.
He burst onto the front porch or the cabin, fresh air hitting him. He took the stairs and raced across the driveway, stumbling into the woods just as the first wave of tears really hit. A painful, choking sob slipped from his lips, and he collapsed against a tree and slid to the ground.
Will hated him. He really hated him. And Mike couldn’t blame him- he was Jane’s brother, how could he not?
“Mike, Mike?”
Mike heard the front door slam, and winced, closing his eyes. He focused on steadying his breath, chest aching. He always managed to ruin things. To lose everyone important to him, one way or another.
He heard the leaves crunch as footsteps approached. Then, the pressure of a warm hand being placed on his shoulder.
“Hey.” Will’s voice was gentle. “You okay?”
Mike shook his head. “I don’t think I’m a very good person, Will.” he said softly.
“You are.”
“Don’t-”
“Mike.” Will’s eyes were sincere and determined as he sat down beside him. “Do you remember when I first figured out how to use my connection to Vecna for good? When I, uh-”
“Totally annihilated those Demos at the MAC-Z?” Mike finished for him. “No, Will, I fully forgot when I almost died and you saved my ass,” he said, half-teasing, relieved.
Will looked a little flustered. “Right. Look, I’ve never told you this before, but Robin gave me some advice that day. She made me realize that to fully be okay with myself, to take control, I had to accept all of myself. I had to focus on what made me, me.”
“Robin.” Mike mumbled. He had no idea where this was going. “You know, I totally thought you had a thing for her back then. Like, I was convinced you two were flirting all the time.”
Will looked shocked. “Dude, I don’t even- she doesn’t-”
Mike blushed. “I know that now. It was just…” Weird. “You smiled a lot around her, that’s all,” Mike said quietly.
Will swallowed and shrugged . “Well. We kind of had a lot in common.”
Mike nodded. That made a lot of sense. Robin had come out a few weeks before she’d left for college, but Mike wasn’t surprised that that hadn’t exactly been new information for Will. For a long while, Mike had been secretly jealous that they had each other, that they had a sense of solidarity that Mike both craved and was terrified of. “Sorry. I interrupted. What were you…?”
“That night.” Will’s eyes dropped and he got this sort of uneasy look that he always did when talking about the events of the past six years. “The Demogorgen, it was flying at you, and all I could think about was what Robin had said. About what made me, me. And suddenly it was like my entire childhood was flooding back to me. I saw my mom, I saw Jonathan, and art, and D&D, and…” he paused, looking Mike in the eye again.
“Was I there?” Mike breathed. This was reckless. Risky.
Will nodded bashfully. “You were there. You're always there. And with your help, I found myself again, Mike. I took control.” He spoke gently. “You’re my best friend, and I know you.” He grabbed Mike’s hand and Mike’s heart began to beat wildly. “You were struggling. I saw it, I just didn’t recognize it, in the same way you didn’t see what I was dealing with either. And yeah, sometimes you’re an idiot-”
Mike laughed in spite of himself, and Will grinned.
“-but I know it’s just because you get in your head about things. You’re a good person, Mike. And I won’t for one second believe otherwise.”
Mike took a trembling breath. He couldn’t fully let himself believe that. “I’m scared,” he said quietly. “I’m scared that when I let go, I’ll forget about all the mistakes I’ve made and I’ll hurt someone again. I don’t want to do that.”
“Is that something a bad person would say?” Will nudged him.
Mike rolled his eyes. “Maybe not.”
The sun was setting behind the trees, the dusk dappling the forest floor through the leaves. A chill ran up Mike’s spine, and he moved a little closer to Will.
“I’m gonna go to college with all these people who don’t know anything about what happened and that feels like a disrespect to our past.” Mike couldn’t help talking, he felt like if they sat in silence for one more second, he’d blurt out the words he could never take back. “Like, I can’t imagine, you know, being with someone who doesn’t know.”
Will nodded. “Yeah. There’s just so many things they wouldn’t get. And they’d never believe you if you told them. When I have my nightmares I’ll have to come up with some miserably lame story about getting kidnapped, instead of being actively dragged into another dimension by a monster.”
“You still have nightmares?” Mike asked, because so did he.
Will gazed out at the trees and nodded. “You?”
“Every night.” Mike whispered. “It feels impossible. No one would understand. I feel like I’d end up being too- too-”
“Too much for someone?” Will finished, and Mike hummed in affirmative.
“Right. I was talking to Dustin about this a few weeks ago, and he said it’d be a relief to find someone free of it. Of everything. That he liked that about Suzie, back when they were together. But at the end of the day, everyone has their shit, you know?” Mike was talking with his hands again, waving them around. He dropped them into his lap. He hated how much he did that.
“Everyone has their trauma,” Will said. “It’s just hard to picture myself puzzle-piecing mine to theirs when it’ll be so drastically different.”
God, Will understood him perfectly. “Exactly. And then there’s Jane. We never actually… broke up.”
“You two were taking a break.”
Mike nodded. “Yeah. But I always thought she’d come back, that she’d want to be my girlfriend again. I’d convinced myself we’d fix it, but she knew I didn’t love her. I was miserable in the relationship and I was miserable without it- and she was probably miserable all the way through-” Mike was spiraling again. “-and that’s just how it’s gonna be now, isn’t it? With everyone I date? I’ll hurt them because I don’t know what I want and then I’ll hate myself.”
All this, because you’ll probably keep lying to everyone for the rest of your life.
“And now, dating someone with her gone, or even just wanting to, which I do, I do want to and I hate it-” this was an admission. “I just feel so- so-”
Before he could finish, Will was pulling him into an embrace. “Guilty?” Will finished his thought for the millionth time that day.
He was so damn perfect.
Mike buried his head in Will’s shoulder, melting into him. “Yeah.”
You deserve someone you want.
Jane’s words echoed through Mike’s head. He’d never, ever let himself focus on them before. Because Mike didn’t deserve to get what he wanted, not with everything that’d happened. The idea of wanting scared him. It felt like a betrayal.
But Mike wanted Will. He had for a very, very long time.
“Jane would have wanted you to be happy.” Will’s voice was quiet as he soothed a hand up Mike’s back. “I know that’s hard to accept, because I know guilt. Hell, I feel terrible every day, thinking it should’ve been me, not her-”
Mike immediately pulled away as dread filled him, holding Will at arms length. “No. Will, no.” He shook his head rapidly. “It should not have been you. That doesn’t even work. That would’ve been-”
Will smiled sadly. “I know,” he said. “I know it doesn’t work that way, but I can’t help it. I still wish I could’ve taken her place. And that’s what I’m trying to say, Mike. We can’t change the past, but we can change our future.”
The breeze ruffled Will’s hair and Mike watched him push it from his forehead.
“Jane knew you weren’t trying to hurt her, she was a strong person and her self worth was not only reliant on what you did, okay? Especially during that last year.” Will took a breath. “She loved you, but at the end of the day, you were just a stupid boy in a relationship. And if I was to guess, I think she understood that. She wasn’t an idiot.”
Mike was crying again. He laughed a little through his tears. He nodded. He felt strangely, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, being called a stupid boy.
“I was stupid. So fucking stupid.” He giggled.
Will looked at him like he’d grown an extra head. “You good?”
“Thank you, Will. For saying that, I really needed to hear it. I mean, I’ve been so damn self-absorbed, haven’t I? When really, it just all wasn’t about me.”
“Never is, Mike.” Will squeezed his shoulder. “Hey, you wanna head back inside?”
Mike nodded, and let Will pull him up. It was getting chilly. The warmth of Will’s hand lingered even as he let go of Mike.
They left the woods and wandered up towards the cabin, slipping inside. Joyce stood fiddling with the TV antenna. She turned towards the door when the boys entered, smiling warmly.
“Mike, you left so fast! I was worried.”
Emotion swelled in Mike’s chest at Joyce’s words. He’s grown up with her, and the idea of losing her when he left for college in August hurt almost as much as the idea of leaving his own mom.
Mike was going to school in Manhattan and Will, Brooklyn. Pace and Pratt respectively. They’d be near enough to each other, just a subway ride between them, but Mike was still starting to dread losing contact. Losing Will.
A fresh wave of despair hit Mike, and he rushed forward to pull Joyce into a hug. “I’m okay now.” He said quietly. “Thanks to Will.”
Joyce hugged him tighter, and Mike remembered when he used to be shorter than her, just a little kid, clinging to her frame the time he cut his knee open in the Byers’ yard. Now Mike towered over her and had to lean down to make the hug work. She still smelled the same as she did then, only instead of cigarettes, the lingering smell was of coffee.
When they pulled away, Mike met Will’s eye. Will was crying silently.
“Is everything alright, you two-?”
“Will, shit, are you okay?”
Joyce and Mike spoke at the same time, and Will started laughing a little.
“All okay, Mom.” Will wiped his eyes.
Joyce looked like she didn’t believe him, but Will had mentioned that she was trying to stop being so over-worried recently. “Okay boys, if you’re sure. Mike, are you planning on staying for dinner? We’re having Chicken Alfredo- I’m trying out a new recipe.”
“Thank god,” Will said, still teary. “Hop was right last time, it was a disaster-”
“Sounds delicious, Mrs. Byers, I’d love to.” Mike interrupted.
Joyce shook her head affectionately. “When are you going to start calling me Joyce?”
Mike smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “Maybe never. Force of habit.”
Once Will and Mike finally made it back to Will’s room, Mike gripped Will’s shoulder. “You seriously okay?”
Will sniffed and nodded. “I’m just gonna miss this.”
“I’ll be just a subway-ride away, Will.” Mike said, but it wasn’t like he didn’t dread it all the time anyway. “And c’mon, now you won’t have to deal with my assholeness as much. Or listen to my complaining.” He winced. “Christ, I complain a lot. That sucks, I’m sorry.”
Will giggled. “You kinda do. But I like giving advice,” said. “So we’re kinda perfect for each other.”
Mike’s stomach fluttered. “For the record, I’ll miss you too.”
Will picked up his discarded grad cap by the tassel. “I don’t really know what I’m gonna do without- without everyone.”
“Me neither. I kinda freaked out back there because what am I gonna do without your mom?”
Will laughed. “You were okay while we were in California.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Barely. Dude, that fucked me up. Nothing was the same, like, at all.”
Will’s grin widened. “Glad to know I’m appreciated.”
“You were. You are. Jesus, Will, I know I’ve said it before but I’m so sorry about California. I was an idiot.”
“It’s okay.” Will fiddled with the tassel. “You were dealing with shit.”
Mike shook his head. “No. It's not okay. All I could talk about was Jane. It was like I was on another planet. I thought I could fix it. But instead of putting in the work to figure my shit out on my own, I relied, like, entirely on you…” he let out a breath. “Just like I’m doing again right now. Shit. That’s not fair of me, Will.”
“I was happy to help.” Will’s voice was soft. “I am happy to help.”
Mike swallowed. “I hadn’t seen you in a year, though. I shouldn’t have put that on you,” he whispered. “You’re the only reason I could tell her what I did in Surfer Boy. What you said in the van-”
“Mike, I lied.” Will interrupted.
“What?” Mike asked.
“The painting, you’know the one on your wall-” Will squeezed his eyes shut. “Jane didn’t commission it.”
Mike blinked. “Oh.” He was processing this very slowly. “So the stuff you said about her needing me?”
Will shifted awkwardly where he sat on his comforter. “That wasn’t a lie,” he said softly. “Just… not her words. I mean, I was sure they applied to her at the time too, but…” it sounded like he was about to say more, but thought better of it. “I missed you, Mike. A lot,” was what he finished with.
“Your words?” Mike’s heart was pounding.
It made sense- the stuff Jane said in the void didn’t exactly line up with Will’s speech. And she’d never brought up the painting, either; Mike hadn’t pushed her, just assumed she was embarrassed about it or something. Plus, he was also kind of worried that it’d lead to a conversation about what he’d told her while she was fighting Vecna. And he’d been scared that, when put on the spot, he wouldn’t be able to say it again.
Turns out he was right.
Will nodded helplessly. He looked just about ready for the mattress to eat him up, to meet a fate just like Glen’s from Nightmare on Elm Street.
Mike’s breaths were coming out shallow now. By Will’s expression, Mike was sure this all meant something.
The “being different” thing made sense now, at least. It was about Will liking guys.
Wait.
Jane’s letter. The one from that spring all those years ago that Mike still remembered because of six key words which had, at the time, drove him insane.
Maybe it is for a girl.
The painting that Will gave Mike. A boy. And Will liked boys.
Suddenly Mike kind of felt like he was going to burn up.
Could this mean-
Could Will really-
Maybe Mike hadn’t hallucinated all those brief moments. The electricity. The nervous breaths and lingering touches.
Will was staring nervously down at his hands.
“Hey,” Mike pushed away the hope- or whatever it was- because Will was upset. He reached out and brushed Will’s shoulder.
“You’re not mad?” Will said quietly.
“That you lied?” Mike furrowed his brow. “No, Jesus, no. It was exactly what I needed to hear. But it means just as much coming from you, Will. I need you to know that.”
Will looked up, eyes wide. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I just wish I hadn’t been such as dick that spring. Then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like you had to lie.”
“It was a long time ago, Mike. You were fourteen, of course you were a dick. We all were.”
“No way.” Mike leaned into him a little. “You weren’t.”
“Do you know what I did as soon as we moved into our place in Lenora? I ignored my mom all week. I wouldn’t eat at the dinner table and made Jonathan relay my messages over to her. In theory I knew it was the safest place for Jane, but I blamed Mom anyways. I loved Jane, and always wanted a sister, but if Mom hadn’t been so close with Hop? Well, I assumed we’d still be in Hawkins.” Will grinned. “See? Even I was a dick at fourteen.”
“That’s nothing.” Mike said proudly. “One time while you were gone I went on strike from cleaning my room, cause my mom kept asking me to, like, basically every day. Unfortunately, she was totally right to, and the clothes and dishes and trash started piling up. It was disgusting, and smelled like B.O. and death, but I was so stubborn that I let it go on for three weeks until Nancy literally threatened to call poison control.”
Will stuck out his tongue in disgust. “Okay, gross, you beat me.”
Mike grinned. “Knew it.”
Will sat back against his pillows again, continuing his sketch of the Scary Monsters album art. Mike leaned against the wall, listening to Will’s green colored pencil scratch over the fabric of the cap.
“Hey, Mike?” Will said casually.
“Mhm?”
“When we were talking, back in the woods- you said you wanted to date again.”
Mike swallowed. Shit. “Well. Yeah.”
“Is there someone who…?” Will’s voice lingered.
This was uneasy territory. They never talked about this sort of thing and never had. Especially now, with Will being out, and Jane being gone. It was complicated. It was scary. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”
Will’s face did something complicated, and he very quickly went back to working on his sketch. “Cool.”
“Yeah. Cool.” Mike was trying not to panic. He’d should’ve lied. He was putting himself in a very complicated position, cornering himself.
“Um. Who?”
“It doesn’t- I mean, I can’t- after Jane, y’know, it wouldn’t be-” Mike cut himself off.
“I know, Mike. But you deserve to not feel guilty for just one second.” Will was angry, his words had a bite to them. “I thought you were gonna stop being so self-pitying! What if Jane actually wanted you to be happy?”
You deserve someone you want.
Mike swallowed, Jane’s words grounding him. “That’s the thing. Even if she did, she didn’t know everything.”
“What d’you mean?” Will looked tired.
“Um.” Mike’s knee was bouncing furiously. “I mean, I-” he paused as a sort of imminent dread washed over him.
Dread for what the future might look like if Mike didn’t say it out loud right now.
Suddenly he was sure that this moment determined the rest of his life. Whether or not Mike kept lying to everyone; whether or not he would repress everything, marry a nice, normal girl and move into a house with a white picket fence; whether or not he’d lock himself in the closet and stay wrapped in its false-comfort for life, never fulfilled and never truly happy. Always yearning for something. Someone.
Sure, Jane had been right; Mike couldn’t write the ending of the Upside Down. He wasn’t a psychic, he couldn’t prophesize.
But, after all was said and done, Mike could try to write his own ending.
And that first ending? Ordinary and regretful and lonely? That was one hell of a depressing existence.
“The problem is that I don’t want to date another girl,” Mike said quietly, and he thought he might pass out, blood rushing in his ears. He kept talking. “Jane told me she knew I didn’t love her and that I deserved to, um, be with somebody I wanted, but she didn’t know that that person might be a boy.” He paused. “Could only be a boy, probably, I think.”
Will was kind of gaping at him. His art project lay forgotten by his side. “Mike. You…?”
Mike nodded miserably. “Yeah.”
He did it. He fucking did it.
“Oh my god.” Will laughed a little wildly under his breath. “Oh my god.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, I just- I’m still figuring out how to be okay with it. And I’m not like you, I don’t think I could ever say it in front of so many people. I’m not that brave.” He was tearing up.
Will shook his head. “I’m not brave. You know I wouldn’t have done it unless I had to, right? It was for everyone’s safety, a fail-safe. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”
“I think this is one of the scariest things I’ve ever done.” Mike choked a little on his tears. “And that’s saying a lot.”
He took a grounding breath, and Will squeezed his shoulder.
“This is why I couldn’t- y’know. Tell Jane what she wanted, no, deserved to hear. So yeah. I don’t think her point would still stand. I think she’d be pretty upset, actually,” he said, trying to laugh. It sounded pathetic.
Will, who had recovered quickly, exhaled. “Mike, Jesus, that’s not- Jane didn’t care about whether or not someone liked boys or girls. That was the least of her worries. She asked me once in California why some girls at school got nasty things yelled at them, just for holding each other’s hands. I explained it to her, and she frowned and called them mouth breathers. She said anyone should be able to love each other, and that it wasn’t fair.” Will smiled a little. “I almost came out to her, right there. Almost. And when I did, she was one of the first people to me.”
Mike let out a shaky breath. “Oh.”
“Jane said you deserved to be with someone you wanted?” Will had recovered quickly.
“Yeah.”
“Then she meant anyone.”
“Even you?” Mike said, words tumbling out of his mouth without permission.
“What?”
Fucking why would you-
“If I wanted to be with you?”
Mike squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, but it wasn’t like he could take what he’d said back. He couldn’t reach out and force the words back down his throat. No, Mike had quite possibly just ruined everything. Not that ruining things was new for him.
And yet… After the painting, there was a chance. There might be a chance-
Will looked at Mike like he’d told him that Henry had been reincarnated and was now chair of the Hawkins’ Helping Hands rebuild committee.
“What do you mean?” Will’s voice was breathy and he seemed kind of lost.
“Um.” Mike dropped his eyes to Will’s hands, which were gripping his knees, knuckles white. “I mean what would Jane think… if I told her that the person I wanted, really wanted, basically the whole time, was her brother?” He stared at his own hands now, the nails chewed down to the cuticle. “Would that change things?” His voice broke on “that” and he swallowed, trying to ignore the lump that was rising in his throat. Trying to ignore the way his chest twinged and his eyes stung. Trying not to…
He was crying again. Silently, this time, like he’d given himself up to it.
He’d said it.
“The… whole time?” Will’s voice was small.
Mike didn’t look up. “Since we were kids, probably. I don’t know. I didn’t understand it at first, but then I did, and I just wanted it to go away,” he said pitifully. “I thought being with Jane might fix that part of me. I wanted to love her. I really, really did. I denied my feelings for ages.” His words were coming out wobbly. “But it was always just you, Will. It was always just you.”
Mike felt a gentle hand tilt his chin up so that his eyes finally met Will’s. Will was in tears again too, cheeks flushed and lashes dappled with tears.
“Oh, you’re-” Mike breathed, then paused. Will was what? Crying? Beautiful?
“Mike, you can’t change what already happened, okay? You have to understand that before anything. Before I say anything.” Will was almost begging him. “You have to understand that no matter what Jane would think, it’s already been a long time. And that time’s gonna keep getting longer and longer and I’m not saying you should forget about her. Don’t. But you need to figure out how to separate your life from it, okay?”
Mike’s head was spinning. “Okay.”
“I love you, Mike.” Will breathed, and Mike could’ve burst into flames. “I love you, all of you, all of it. I gave up on this years ago, but I never stopped loving you. I tried, sure, tried to focus on accepting myself. Turns out I can’t love myself without loving you, too. I may not have gotten over it, but I made peace with the idea of you, Mike.” His words took on an odd sort of bite. “So I can’t do this, not if it’s gonna mean all this guilt, okay? Jane was my sister, and goddammit, and I miss her. But you’ll be miserable if she’s all you think about.”
Mike opened and closed his mouth a few times. “You love…?”
“Jesus- yes, Mike, I love you!” Will was nearly in hysterics at this point. “I love you, I love you, I-”
Mike surged forward, pulling Will breathlessly into a tight embrace. Their bodies tangled, jumbled and awkward, for a moment, before settling.
“I love you too,” Mike whispered into Will’s hair, and the words, despite everything, felt like the easiest thing in the world to say. His chest ached.
Will buried his face in Mike’s shirt and wept.
“I’m sorry.” Mike murmured, stomach sinking, because he’d talked so much about Jane, too anxious and scared to think straight, that he’d ruined this. He’d wrecked his chance with the one person he’d ever really loved. Who loved him back.
Most of all, he’d hurt his best friend.
“I’m sorry, Will, I’m so sorry.”
The room was silent except for Will’s soft sobs and Mike’s unsteady inhales. The words I can’t do this echoed through Mike’s mind.
He focused on the way Will felt in his arms, Will’s fingers clutching at the back of Mike’s shirt, his breath hot on the crook of Mike’s neck, making Mike’s skin erupt in gooseflesh. He tried to cement this feeling in his mind. This was, in all likelihood, the first and last time he’d ever get to hold Will like this.
Shit.
“Will, I-”
“Stop.” Will said tearily, pulling away. “Don’t. We’re graduating tomorrow, Mike. I can't do this. Not right now.”
Mike’s stomach dropped even further, and he stood from Will’s bed. “Okay. I understand.” His voice was tight and wobbly and he was trying not to cry again. The pressure in his throat from the effort was painful. “I’m, um. I really hope the painting turns out,” he said, waving vaguely towards Will’s grad cap before turning to slip quietly out the door.
He hadn’t even gotten a chance to try. But maybe he wasn't really worthy of that chance.
-
Graduation was shockingly not awful. Yes, there was the ache, the feeling that someone was missing from the line onstage- along with the orange gowns (which did end up being pretty terrible) but Mike found himself sinking into it. The feeling of immeasurable loss and indescribable opportunity which lay ahead of them.
It was the feeling college counselors and principles and ambitious Hawkins High alumni talked about. It was the first time Mike had ever felt anything like that.
And then Dustin’s escapade was over and Mike was plunged into the thick of it. He’d spent the entirety of the ceremony avoiding eye contact with Will and pretending like he wasn’t drowning in regret. How’d he always manage to say the wrong thing? To ruin what good things he had with his guilt?
In the end Mike didn’t deserve Will. Will deserved a guy who’d be unburdened and proud about his love. And he’d find one, easy- it was Will, of course he would.
Mike wouldn’t get over it, but he would let Will go. And it’d probably be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do, knowing that he had a chance and lost it. But Will would be happy, and that’s all that mattered. And Mike would figure it out. This was what he’d decided anyways, after a woeful, sleepless night spent staring at Will’s painting on his wall.
But after that terrible, wonderful feeling which curled through him as he threw his cap in the air, Mike felt something akin to confidence again.
Mike wasn’t the type to give up, never had been. He needed to fix things with Will, one way or another. He needed to make his feelings clear. One last ditch effort.
-
“As for Will the Wise, he travels far and long to the bustling city of Vallaki.”
It was officially the end of Mike’s campaign, the one he’d been working on for ages- the Mage had jumped in at the last moment to save them, as she had again and again in the real world. This campaign was, in a way, a eulogy to her. She was still there, in their lives- she lived on, through them. Through their love and loss and chaos and revelation.
Mike was beginning to feel the guilty weight on his shoulders lift slightly.
“It’s overwhelming at first,” Mike continues. “So very different from the village where he spent his youth. But it isn’t long before he finds his place there, in a world rich with art and passion, and thrives as a creator.
“He befriends new people, bards and artificers alike, and lives in comfort knowing that many of his old companions are still close by. In Vallaki, he finds deep happiness and fulfillment, both in the old and the new.”
Will was leaning forward in his chair, staring at Mike with tears in his eyes. He didn’t seem angry, or anxious as he had last night; no, he looked… captivated?
“And the storyteller? What about him?” Will said softly.
Mike felt hope flutter in his chest.
In the words of Bowie: hope, boys, is a cheap thing.
Hope was easier to come by than anyone would like to admit. And, y’know, maybe cheap hope wasn’t such a bad thing. Because hope meant progress. Hope meant change.
Speaking of Bowie; Mike’s eyes had caught on Will’s graduation cap once or twice during the ceremony. Of course he’d finished reproducing the album cover in just one night, adding his own geometric, starlike flair over the edges, and it’d still turned out perfect. More so, Will was the only one in probably their entire grade who’d pulled off the orange cap and gown whatsoever. He’d looked incredible.
But maybe Mike was partial.
“The storyteller keeps telling stories.” Mike smiled. “Stories inspired by his friends and their adventures, hoping that one day they’ll make a difference in someone's life. That a young novice, eager to play and create, might look upon the stories with sparkling eyes, and revive their terrible roots instead as magic.”
Mike had rarely expressed his dream of writing fantasy novels to the rest of the party, and his eyes stung with tears.
“The storyteller spins his tales from the same city, content. He’s finally had the chance to look back on his own existence and vitality, and realize that he’s spent years trapped in an endless maze of sorrow and shame.” Mike swallowed, looking towards Will. “He’d spent so long running in circles trying to recover what he’d lost and extinguish what he was scared of, that he’d forgotten what he had,” Mike told Will, and just Will.
With the charged eye-contact they were holding, it might as well have just been the two of them in that room.
“With the exit of the maze, the storyteller not only finds his truth, but acceptance, too. He forgives himself.” Mike finished, voice breaking as his eyes welled up for what must’ve been the hundredth time in two days. He hadn’t meant to talk this much.
He remembered the last time Jane had smiled at him, just moments before pushing him out of her void. It had been knowing and mournful. It had been gentle. It had been an understanding of their friendship, through linked pinkies.
For the first time in what must’ve been years, Mike could breathe.
Mike watched his friends stand, one by one, and slide their binders onto the shelf. His stomach kind of dropped when Will took the stairs. Mike wasn’t sure why it felt like the last time Will would ever step foot in his basement at all, when they still had the entire summer ahead of them.
He swallowed and stood after a few long minutes alone. He pushed his binder, bursting at the seams with campaign notes and complete with four wonky blue stickers spelling out his name, into the slot right next to Will’s. He brushed his fingers over the spine of his best friend’s binder, tracing the W, the I, both L’s. He couldn’t stop crying. This was it. It was all over. Their entire childhood was slipping away and Mike was still trying rapidly to keep up. He was-
“Mike?” A voice came from right behind him.
Mike almost jumped out of his skin. He twirled around to face Will, standing just feet away, looking concerned. “Holy…crap,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. “You scared the living shit out of me! I didn’t even hear you come back down.”
Will had come back down.
“Sorry, sorry!” Will laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. God, his smile- “You’ve been down here awhile, that’s all. Uh, lasagna’s getting cold, if you’re ready.”
Mike shook his head. He was stupid to think, even for a moment, that Will might’ve changed his mind. He’d made it clear yesterday. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m ready.” Mike said, wiping his eyes and trying to sound chipper. “Last time Mom made lasagna she found some recipe in Better Homes and Gardens and tried putting mayo in it. It totally ruined my week, so this is kinda a long time coming.” Mike probably wouldn’t be able to eat, not really, his stomach was still tense with anxiety. On the other hand, he was still trying to figure out what to do with the new lack of weight on his shoulders.
“Wait, Mike-” Will reached out a little.
“Yeah?” Oh god, oh god.
“Can we, um, talk about yesterday?” Will asked quietly.
Mike, the man he was, immediately opened his mouth.
“Yeah, yes, please. Will, I meant what I said during the campaign. It doesn’t take one day to move on, and I know that. But today, I- I finally feel like I can breathe again.” Mike inhaled. “I owe all of that to you. Everything you said last night put the future into perspective for me. I mean, I’ve kind of been acting like nothing matters past the grief of the last two years. I’ve been neglecting, like, everything good in my life. You’re one of those good things, Will. You’re so good, and- um, you make me really happy.”
Mike whispered the last part. His heart was racing again, his words growing kind of muddled.
“It’s not an excuse, but I just got so swept up in Jane yesterday and, well, I never thought you might feel the same and I was being super self-pitying and gross and I see that. And I am sorry.” Mike’s voice shook.
Will just looked at him with an unplaceable expression- thoughtful, maybe. “Okay.” He said quietly. Will looked good, in a striped white tee which hugged his biceps unfairly well, his hair messy and cheeks flushed.
“I’m kind of assuming that this is something you never want me to bring up again, and I completely understand that. I’ll drop it and let you move on with your life. I just wanted to apologize for my bullshit and thank you for, y’know, everything. Being there for me last night, and like all the time, really.”
Mike was trying really hard not to cry again.
“I know it might be impossible, but I don’t want to lose you when we go to New York. I don’t know what I’d do.” He exhaled. “So yeah. I hope we can still be friends. Best friends, maybe, even if it takes a little while.” Mike tried to smile.
Mike watched Will’s breath catch. Mike watched his eyes flutter closed for just a second, watched him wet his lips before opening his mouth to speak.
“No, fuck that, Mike.” Will said, and Mike’s new ability to breathe rapidly regressed.
Will practically never said fuck. Mike wasn’t sure why that was what he was fixating on, what made his heart practically stop beating when Will’s other words were-
“What do you mean?”
“I mean fuck best friends!” Will threw his bands up in the air. “We’ve always been best friends. Don’t you think it’s finally time for…a change?”
He looked… giddy?
“What?” Mike blinked in confusion.
Will drew closer to Mike, laying a gentle hand on his chest, right above his racing heart. “What I said last night-”
“You said you can’t do-” Mike waved a hand between them. “-this.”
“No. Jesus, Mike, you need to listen more.” Will was smiling.
Smiling?
Mike rolled his eyes. “I listen plenty.”
“I said not right now, Mike.” Will said seriously. “I meant not last night. Not the night before our literal graduation. I wanted to be, like, present today.” Will shook his head, his voice growing gentler. “I’m sorry. I know I was kind of mean. I was upset, yeah, and you have tons of shit you need to work out, for sure-”
“I do.” Mike choked out a laugh at his words, stunned.
“-but did you really think I’d just… forget this like that? No chance?”
Mike could barely comprehend what was going on. “I didn’t really think I deserved a chance,” he whispered. “I’m kind of a hot mess.”
“Well, good news for you, I tend to give people lots of those,” Will’s hand slid up Mike’s chest and he grabbed Mike’s collar. “And I kinda like hot messes,” he added, voice dripping with a confidence and coyness which Mike had never heard from him.
“Oh.” Mike felt his entire face, to the tips of his ears, go hot immediately. Oh god. He could feel Will’s breath warm on his cheek, and watched his eyes flutter down to Mike’s mouth.
“If I kissed you right now, would you hate yourself for it?” Will asked sincerely, not accusing, just confirming. His eyes were wide, the flecks of green and amber illuminated in the warm light of the basement. “Would you blame yourself?”
“No.” Mike said firmly, brain and heart racing wildly, and found he believed it. “Please kiss me,” he added weakly, breath growing unsteady.
“Okay.” Will surged forward, pulling Mike down by his collar.
The kiss was gentle, chaste, but Mike felt like his entire body was brimming with giddy excitement. Will’s hands found Mike’s face, fingertips brushing over his jaw and sending sparks flying in Mike’s stomach as he kissed back, firmer. Will was the perfect height, Mike just had to lean down a little to reach his lips, to hold him close, snaking his arms around Will’s waist.
They both pulled away after a moment.
“Will,” Mike breathed, resting his forehead against his best friend’s. Is that still what they were?
“Hi, Mike.” Will’s eyes were shining with tears and he was smiling. “You’re my first kiss.” His voice broke. “I always hoped you’d be my first,” he said, voice small.
The feeling that tore its way through Mike’s chest at Will’s words was devastating. He couldn't help pressing another easy kiss to his lips. Then his cheek, the tip of his nose, his chin. Then his forehead. Will was giggling, face red, and Mike was very, very happy. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Stop- stop apologizing, Mike!” Will laughed. “What’re you sorry for this time?”
“Making you wait.” Mike said.
“I’m patient,” Will whispered up at him. “And I understand. You needed time.”
Mike swallowed. “Still. I should’ve realized. I should’ve noticed-”
“If you’d noticed any earlier, you would’ve really messed yourself up over it, Mike.” Will cupped Mike’s cheek in his hand. “You wouldn’t have been ready. It’s better that it happened now.”
“Not for you.” Mike was growing teary. “You suffered.”
“Shh.” Will kissed Mike. “You can’t keep taking on my suffering. Or Jane’s. Or anyone else’s.” His voice was low and earnest. “It’s not yours to keep.”
“Okay.” Mike’s voice broke, and he looked up into Will’s eyes. “I’ll try. But I’d really like to be yours to keep, if you’ll have me.”
The smile which broke across Will’s face was dazzling. “I’ll have you.”
Mike grinned, thrilled, and leaned down to kiss his best friend in the basement where they grew up together.
This kiss was more desperate, almost intense, Will’s hands and mouth everywhere, and Mike felt like he might die. Will walked them backwards through the room and pushed Mike against the bookcase. Will was strong, and Mike found he liked being manhandled a lot more than he would’ve guessed. He reached a hand up to Will’s bicep, and-
“Woah,” he murmured into Will’s mouth.
Will giggled, breaking away “What?”
“Um.” Mike suddenly felt very hot. “Nothing.” He dropped his hand.
Will smirked and grabbed Mike’s hand in mid-air, bringing it back up to his arm. “Right. Nothing.” He kissed Mike again, this time like he was hungry, and it quickly grew open-mouthed. For someone who’d never done this before, Will was excellent at it.
“You’re so-” Mike breathed into his mouth.
“Yeah?” Will was panting, hair disheveled and cheeks flushed a rosy pink, lips red. His eyes were brilliant.
“Fucking good, Will, holy shit. You’re so good at this. And you’re so goddamned beautiful." Mike buried his face in Will’s shirt, blushing to the roots of his hair.
“Mike, I-”
The door slammed open. “Okay guys, what have you been up to?” Dustin’s voice echoed down the stairs and Mike and Will split apart hastily. Dustin’s annoyed face appeared at the foot of the steps and quickly turned concerned. “Shit, everything okay?”
“What do you-?” Mike asked hastily.
“You both look like you’ve been crying, that’s all.”
They totally had been. Mike laughed in relief. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Everything’s great, Dustin,” Will assured him.
Dustin shrugged. “Oh-kay, whatever you say.” He sounded unconvinced. “Well, the lasagna's so cold it's pretty much caught a case of freezer-burn by now, and Mike, your sister and her friends want to take over the basement. She kept bugging your mom about it. I think it’s awesome, they’re like the new generation!” He clutched a hand to his heart dramatically “We’ll never die out.”
“So… cold food and we’re being kicked out?” Mike clarified.
“Precisely.” Dustin nodded. “Max and Lucas and I were thinking of heading to Stacey’s party afterall. Y’know, to end senior year with a bang.”
Mike and Will exchanged brief eye contact. “I think I’ve already had my bang.” Mike said softly.
Will gave him a little smile. “Mine too.”
Dustin just looked even more confused. “Whatever you say, man. Whatever you say. So. The party?”
Mike raised an eyebrow at Will. Will raised an eyebrow at Mike. Will looked kind of excited, and Mike gave him a questioning head tilt. Will nodded.
“Yeah, sure. Let's party."