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“Okay, fine. You guys win. Congratulations.” Will’s voice sounds annoyed, as he throws his wizard’s staff to the ground, along with his hat and shuts up the stereo with a shove of his finger. He looks mad and disappointed.
Mike sighs at himself. He had made everything worse. Again.
“Will, I was just messing around.” Shit. He walks around the table towards Will, who’s taking off his robe now, throwing it to the ground right next to the hat. He looks at him and continues, his voice softer than before. “Hey…let's finish for real. How much longer is the campaign?”
“Just forget it, Mike.” Will snaps at him. The words make Mike’s stomach twist. He stares at him, perplexed for a second. They had fought before, but something inside Mike tells him this is different. Something is off. Maybe it was the way he said it. Or the way he was pushing away. Not letting Mike get to him. Not letting Mike comfort him, not letting him fix the situation, not letting Mike come back to him so easily. It was like he was putting up a shield, ricocheting Mike’s words. This is new. So is the feeling of anxiety rising in Mike’s throat.
“No, you wanna keep playing, right?” Mike looks at Lucas, desperate. He doesn’t know what to do. He feels panic crawling through his veins. Why is Will not responding to him? Why couldn’t he comfort him? Why was he so distant? So mad?
“Y-Yeah, totally.” Lucas looks at them a little irritated.
“We’ll just call the girls afterwards.” Who cares about them anyway? Lucas does of course. Always talking about Max. Encouraging him to make up with El. Dragging him to the Mall to find a nice gift for her. But it’s not like he didn’t go along with it. He complained about Hopper scaring the shit out of him. He complained about him blackmailing him into stop seeing El.
And it’s true. He does miss his friend. But it was easy. It was so easy to lie to her on the phone. And when he stood in front of her at the Mall. It was easy to give in to Hopper's threat. Easy not to resist. Too easy. Tempting.
But it doesn’t matter. She did break up with him after all. He doesn’t have to worry about it anymore. He can leave it behind. Ignore it. The guilt. Those seething feelings, deep down, dying to get out.
He shouldn’t think that. It should be harder on him. Harder to lie to her. Harder to not be with her. Harder to let her go. He should care. No, he cares. He does. He really does. He’ll come back to her. Like he’s supposed to. He has to. He cares. He misses her. He likes her. No. That’s not enough. He-.
“I said forget it, Mike, okay?” Will sounds even more angry now. “I’m going home!”
“But…come on Will…” Lucas sighs.
“Move!” Will snaps at him too, pushing him aside, storming out of the room. Lucas just looks after him.
Mike moves immediately. Pushing Lucas aside as well, he runs after Will, making his way upstairs and to the front door that Will had already opened. ”Will, come on!"
Will reaches for his bike, but Mike catches up to him within seconds. It’s dark outside and rain is pouring down. The cooled down air hits Mike's face and flows into his lungs as he’s gasping for breath.
“You can’t leave! It’s raining!” He steps outside. “Listen I said I was sorry alright? It’s a cool campaign. It’s really cool. We’re just not in the mood right now…” Fuck. His words sound more annoyed than he intended to. His words didn’t sound like him at all. He was mad at himself, not at Will. Why couldn’t he act normal around him? His thoughts are a mess. He feels like he isn’t himself anymore. Like it’s someone else speaking for him. What happened to him comforting Will? What happened to his tone, always making Will relax and ease his anxiety? What happened to him encouraging Will? Cheering him up?
And what happened to Will? Not responding to him when he tried to? Not calming down as soon as he hears Mike’s voice? Always listening to Mike patiently.
He wants to comfort him. He wants to fix this. He can’t endure seeing Will like this. He’s hurting, he’s so mad and it’s his fault. He’s mad at him. And this time he didn’t forgive him that easily.
“Yeah, Mike. That’s the problem. You guys are never in the mood anymore! You’re ruining our party!”
It hits him again. That feeling in his stomach. The anxiety buzzing through his whole body. A stitch inside his chest. He felt like his heart skipped a beat. His head is empty, numb.
“That’s not true.” Mike’s voice is dull. He looks at Will with hurt in his eyes.
“Really? Where’s Dustin right now?”
Mike hesitates, still caught up in Will’s last words. You’re ruining our party. He is paralysed.
“See? You don’t know and you don’t even care! And obviously he doesn’t either and I don’t blame him! You’re destroying everything, and for what? So you can swap spit with a stupid girl?” Will's voice sounds like it’s about to break, fragile, but still mad, oozing with disappointment. His eyes glitter, as if he was about to cry.
You’re destroying everything- so you can swap spit with a stupid girl-.
The words echo inside Mike’s head. The pain in his chest grows stronger.
Yeah, Mike, that’s the problem.
He is the problem. The fear crawling up his body threatens to suffocate him. He tries to breathe. One deep breath, then another. With every exhale he shoves his feelings down further. He can feel them leaving his body.
You’re ruining our party.
The fear. The fear of losing him. Because he fucked up. He hurt him.
The anxiety that makes him shake, makes him want to run away. But it only freezes him. Paralysed. Trapped between him and what he’s supposed to be. Unable to move. Unable to breathe.
The fault. The fact that he knows he fucked up. And he still couldn’t stop.
You don’t even care.
The hate for himself. The hate for his own struggles. For making Will think he doesn’t care. For his internal fight. For him being trapped, trying to escape. The hate for him pushing himself back down again and again. Ripping himself apart. For him to never be enough. For both of them. For him hurting everyone around him, because he can’t deal with himself.
You’re destroying everything.
The guilt. The guilt of everything he had done. The shame. The disgust. The regret. The despair.
There’s nothing left inside of him. Just a cold, empty indifference. He needs to stop. He can’t let those feelings come up again. He can’t have them anymore. He’s going to get his shit together. He’s going to make up with El. She is- She was his girlfriend after all. She’ll take him back. She has to. Like Lucas said.
He’ll go on with his life. With her. He will care for her. He will be with her. He will give her what she wants. He will. He cares for her. He needs to be enough. He needs to be more. He likes her. It’s not enough. He likes girls. They’re sweet. They’re pretty. Delicate. El is sweet. El is pretty. She’s smart. What’s not to like? It should be enough. He likes her so much. It needs to be enough. He more than likes her. Be enough. He- Be enough. Be enough.
Will isn’t like that. He never showed much interest in girls. That’s what makes it so difficult. That’s what makes him so unable to fully be what he’s supposed to be. It’s a hope. A small crack in his perfectly built walls of glass. An opening. An exit. A way out. A possibility. A threat. Threatening to collapse the walls he put up. To crash them. To shatter them into a million pieces. To break him free. And to bury him under the shards of his own construction. He can’t let that happen. It can’t happen. It can’t. They’re just friends. Best friends.
“El’s not stupid! It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” The words slip out of his mouth before he can stop himself. The tension, the panic building up in him had burst out without control. He isn’t himself anymore.
It’s like time stops. Will stares at him. Tears in his eyes. But Mike can’t stop. It’s like an invisible force making him speak. Like the fassade he built up came to life. Now controlling him, not the other way around. Doing what it’s supposed to do.
“I’m not trying to be a jerk, okay? But we’re not kids anymore. I mean what did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?”
The words hit Will. Words not meant for him. Words meant for Mike himself. But there he is. Will, standing in between Mike’s deepest desire and his attempt to conform to everything he doesn’t want to be. He’s standing on the frontline, between his two realities, catching the bullets no one aimed at him.
“Yeah. I guess I did. I really did.” Will’s voice breaks this time. A tear rolls down his face. He grabs his bike and drives away in one swift motion.
”Will! Will, wait! No, wait! I didn’t mean that! Fuck!” The panic is back. All his feelings are back, overwhelming him like never before. It’s like Will’s last words brought him back to reality. They were like a wedge, driven into the crack of his wall. Creating pressure, endangering it to burst, pushing it closer to the breaking point than ever before.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…WILL!” He grabs his own bike, that’s still leaning on the wall of his house. He gets on it and starts riding straight to Will’s house. The rain meets his face. He’s drenched within seconds.
“Mike, what the hell are you doing?” He hears Lucas’s voice behind him, but he doesn’t care. He keeps riding as fast as he can, the rain and wind slapping into his face.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
He’s breathing heavily as he reaches Will’s. He throws his bike on the ground and hurries to Will’s front door. He knocks on it. “Will!?”
He hears a voice behind him. “Mike? What happened?” Lucas had followed him the whole way to Will’s house.
“I’m looking for Will…” Mike says absent-mindedly, hammering against the door.
“Will! Will, I’m sorry, man, all right? I was being a total asshole. Please, can you just come outside and we’ll talk? Will!” Nothing happens. He slams against the door one last time, in frustration. He’s so mad at himself. So confused. And he’s scared. Where did he go? Was he alright? What if he wasn’t? It’s his fault. All of this is his fault.
“Dude, I don’t think anyone’s home.” Lucas comes back to him. He had looked through the windows to check if he could see someone inside.
Mike hesitates for a second, his hand still on the door. “I think I know where he is. I’m gonna find him. You can go home.” He starts walking around the house.
“Mike, don’t you think we should-” Mike turns around.
“I said you can go home!” He yells at him this time, then he turns on his heels, starting to run. He knows where he’s going. He could walk this path with his eyes closed, which is a good thing, because the rain and the darkness of the night make him barely able to see the familiar ground beneath his feet.
Anxiety overwhelms him. All the feelings he had pushed down for years rush through his body. Tears are running down his face, mixing with the water raining down on him. Washing away his mask. Exposing the most vulnerable part of himself. Exposing his deepest feelings. He feels like he’s drowning in them. Completely surrounded. But it’s all clearer now. He can feel them now. He can see them.
He can see the fear of losing Will. Will, who is somewhere out here, alone, still mad at him, drenched from the rain. And it is his fault. He hurt him. He treated him like shit, just because he couldn’t handle his own feelings. He couldn’t own up to them. He could never admit it.
Was it too late now? What if Will hates him? What if he never wants to speak to him again? What if he fucked up too bad to fix it? What if he wouldn’t even hear him out? These thoughts make Mike feel sick to his stomach. He can’t lose him. He can’t lose him again.
The anxiety floods his body. Losing Will was the worst thing that ever happened to him. Sometimes he still dreams about it. It wakes him up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, as if he was there again. Watching his pale body being pulled out of the dark waters. Thinking about it is killing him. Thinking about losing Will is one thing. But thinking about losing Will again, because of something he did, is different. Losing Will because he fucked up. Losing Will, because he hurt him, would really kill him. He couldn’t look himself in the eyes anymore. He couldn’t live with that. He couldn’t live with that fault.
The fault of being an absolute asshole. The fault of hurting Will, of letting him down, attacking him when he’s vulnerable. The fault of hurting him so deeply, while he was supposed to care for him, to comfort him. The fault of causing all this. The fault of not being able to acknowledge his feelings. And the fault of not only hurting Will in the process, pushing him away, but the fault of living a lie. Making El live it with him, unknowingly. Making her believe he loves her. Deluding her into thinking he wants her for the rest of her life.
And he hates himself for it. For everything he has done. For the person he has let himself become. For hurting El. And for hurting Will. But he also hates the part of himself that knows who he really is. That knows what he is.
And he feels guilty. Guilty about the fact that this feeling deep inside of him had brought out the worst in him. Driven by the expectations of other people. Driven by his friends, setting a perfect example of how to be normal. How to be interested in girls. Driven by his father, expecting him to bring home a girl one day. Driven by hate, by views, by the rumors about people like him. About them being unnatural or mentally ill.
The shame that comes with it is all consuming. Always lingering somewhere in the back of his mind. Watching him. And he’s disgusted with himself. For being who he is. For being different. He doesn’t want to be. But it’s not like he can change it. God knows he tried. He tried so hard, he did not only hurt himself, but everyone around him. Trying to deny the undeniable fact that he is what he is. What he has always been. Trying to deny the fact that he likes boys. Trying to deny the fact that he is gay. He is.
And he feels regret. Regret for not realising this earlier. For not letting himself realise this. For pushing his feelings down. Bottling himself up, not allowing him to just be. Regret for wasting what he could’ve become. Regret for being too late. Now that Will hates him. Now that he can finally admit it, he hates him. He hurt him too much. What could he have, if he could’ve just acted sooner?
And there’s the despair, slowly consuming him. He messed up. He messed up so badly. He ruined his life and he doesn’t know how to fix it anymore. He wants to fix it. He needs to fix it. But he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know where to start.
But there is another feeling calling to him, originating from deep inside. It’s bigger, stronger than the others. It’s affection. Devotion. Passion. Care. Longing. Love. For the boy he holds so dear to his heart. For the boy he always loved, he always cared for. More than anything else in this world.
And then he sees him. Time stood still. His head went silent.
He can hear his heart pounding in his chest, rapidly, like it’s trying to break free from him. It drowns out his thoughts, the loud noise of the rain pouring down on them, the wind blowing around them. He knew he would find him here. In the one place he had always turned to when he felt alone or sad or scared. The one that always made him feel safe.
But the noises around him, the noises of his own heartbeat, of his heavy breathing, of the rain can’t drown out the sobs coming from the boy in front of him. The noise of wood hitting on wood, cracking, breaking.
“Will…” Mike whispers as he stops at the sight of him. It’s like he watches him move in slow motion. His body is shaking, vibrating as he holds the baseball bat in both his hands, hitting the branches that once held Castle Byers together, again and again. Smashing them, destroying, breaking them apart.
“Will-”
He throws the bat to the ground. “Stupid! So stupid…so stupid!” His hands reach up to what’s left of the place he once called his home. And he tears it apart. Branch after branch landing on the ground next to him, until he sinks down besides them, sobbing uncontrollably. “So stupid…”
“Will!” It had taken Mike some time to find his voice again. He’s frozen in place, tears running down his face as he watches the boy he loves breaking down in front of him.
Will flinches as he hears Mike’s words. He hadn’t noticed him standing there, hadn’t heard his voice calling for him. He jumps up, staring at Mike, his eyes filled with fear now, with shame and embarrassment.
“Mike-” His voice cracks. “What- what are you doing here?”
“I-” The words get stuck in his throat on their way out. “I- I was looking for you…” His voice is shaky and hoarse.
Something shifts in Will’s gaze. His face softens, a hint of concern and worry forming, as he sees the tears rolling down his face. Will isn’t sure if he ever saw him cry. Not like this. He never saw him that anxious, the desperation written all over his face, he looked like a mess, almost terrified. “Mike..”
Mike isn’t able to speak anymore. He just stares at Will, slowly taking a step towards him. Something in his gaze shifts too. He looks at Will longingly. Craving answers. Craving for forgiveness. Craving for his affection. Craving for him.
They look into each other's eyes. He walks closer to him. The dark brown of Mike’s iris meeting Will’s hazel ones. The celadon green mixing with a light brown, almost golden. He can see small drops of rain caught in his long lashes and spread all over his beautiful face, mixing with his tears. They make his skin glisten in the pale moonlight. His gaze wanders over his face, his temple, his soft, rosy cheeks. His jaw is dropped minimally, his mouth slightly open. His lips are trembling softly as he breathes in and out.
Mike's eyes wander back to Will's. He takes one last step towards him. They're standing right in front of each other now. He wonders if he can see another feeling deep inside of his eyes. The same Will can see inside his own. Longing. Desire. Maybe he starts imagining things now.
But Mike has nothing to lose. He fucked up so bad. Maybe Will still hates him. Maybe he'll never want to talk to him again. If he already lost him, this couldn't make it any worse. Fuck it.
His breath trembles as he lays his left hand on Will's shoulder, waiting for his reaction. Will doesn't move, he just looks down to his hand and back up to Mike's eyes.
Fuck everything. Mike finds himself moving his right hand towards Will's face. Slowly, slightly shaking, waiting for Will to brush his arm away, but he doesn't. He lays his hand on his cheek. His heart is pounding frantically in his chest. He can barely breathe. He leans forward, slowly, looking up and down between Will's eyes and his lips, as if he's asking for permission. Will slightly moves his head towards him. Mike does the same. They're so close.
The rain is still falling down on their faces. Mike can feel Will's warm breath on his face, he can feel a heat radiating from him. He can sense a tension between them now. But in a good way. It's like the air is filled with it. Charged with a tickling feeling, like electricity, making a thrilling shiver run down Mike's spine. Charged with uncertainty of what's coming, charged with curiosity, charged with a touch of longing, intensifying. The atmosphere around them is vibrating. Like energised particles flying around them, surrounding them, blending in with the rain.
They are closer than ever before. Closer and closer until their lips touch, slow and gently. It's like fireworks exploding. The tension reached its breaking point, it's like sparks fly, breaking free. It's like the wedge in Mike’s cracking walls finally got driven in too deep, breaking, shattering the glass into a million little pieces. Leaving him exposed, vulnerable, but finally free. Air fills his lungs. He breathes in so deeply, as if he had never breathed before. As if he was holding his breath before, forever suffocating, until he could finally break free. Relief floods his body. His muscles relax, he can feel the tension leaving his body.
His walls are gone. And the splitters of his own oppression didn't bury him, they make him shine, refracting the light around him, dispersing, bathing him in it. He closes his eyes, letting all his feelings flow. Letting the rain in, that can reach him, now that the invisible shield surrounding him is down. He can feel it running down his face, drenching his hair, washing away all the shame, all his insecurities, all his hesitation, all his pain. Washing away everything until only himself is left. He made it out, and it feels so good.
He can feel the softness of Will's lips on his own. He can feel two hands being laid softly onto his cheeks, gently pulling him closer. Making his heart beat faster, making his chest rise, trying to take in the whole moment, every sensation he can feel. Raindrops meeting his face, cold against his skin, the warmth spreading from Will's hands into his whole body, his light breath against his cheek, strands of Will’s wet hair tickling his forehead, the soft touch of his lips, Will's skin under his own hands, smooth and glowing beneath his fingers.
They stay like this for what feels like an eternity, but it was still not long enough. As Mike opens his eyes again, gently breaking the kiss, he can see Will smile at him, astonished, his eyes full of love and devotion. “Mike..”
Mike pulls him into a hug. He holds him close, presses Will’s body against his own as strong as he can, clinging onto him. One hand stokes over his head and through his hair.
“Will…I love you…I love you so much…I’m so sorry…I’m sorry…”
He can feel tears running down his face. Every feeling he felt during the last hour floods out of him. He can't hold them in anymore. He needs to let go now.
“Mike…it’s okay. It’s okay…” Will whispers as he hugs him tighter. “It's okay…Mike, look at me…” He loosens the embrace, looking at him. Mike looks back at him. Will goes through his wet curls, tugging them behind his ears. “I love you too, Mike. I love you too.”
They hug again, even closer this time, clinging onto each other, feeling each other's body against their own. Feeling each other completely.
There is so much Mike wants to say. He wants to explain himself. He wants to say how sorry he is, how dumb and selfish he was, how unfair. He should be comforting Will, not the other way around. He wants to tell him how beautiful he is and how much he loves him. How much he always loved him. But at the same time he’s at a loss for words.
But it doesn’t matter. They can talk tomorrow. They can talk next week, next month. They have their whole life ahead of them. For now they can just stay in this moment forever, enjoying each other's presence, taking it all in.
All that matters now, is that he’s close to him, closer than ever. Will doesn’t hate him, he’s right there in his arms, and Mike will never let him go, he’ll never lose him again. Never.