Chapter Text
TW: this fic includes internalized homophobia, fighting, mention of alcohol, choking & throwing up
Notes are always at the end of the chapter!!
22nd November 1989
NYU tisch had so far been an enjoyable experience for Will. Here he could spend his days doing what he loved the most. Painting.
While also spending time on his education which right now was math. To be honest he had no idea why he was even taking math because he had always disliked it. All of the numbers were just too much and at this moment Will felt like he was close to storming out of the library. This had happened many times before, believe it or not, Will didn’t really enjoy studying no matter what class it was for.
After sitting in the library for an hour, sighing and looking out the window hoping that time would pass, he decided to leave. His math test wasn’t until Monday anyway and since it was Thursday he could just study this weekend.
This too, was not a rare thing for Will to do. Convincing himself he would do it over the weekend knowing that he wouldn’t was a daily occurrence at this point. But his coffee had gotten cold and it was so late in the school day that the library was filled only by him and the chess club.
It was still unbeknownst to Will why they had been placed in the library instead of in a club room like all the other clubs. However it did make sense seeing as they mostly kept quiet except for the muffled sounds of chess pieces moving every three seconds.
Lost in thought Will had made it back to his apartment. Well not his apartment, he and his brother Jonathan lived together. NYU had always been a dream for Jonathan while Will kinda just followed wherever he went. New York having some of the best art classes and multiple shops that contain mountains of art material was a plus though.
Even though it was hard to admit, Will had really settled down here. Not forever maybe, but he felt good about where he was at least. Although he hadn’t exactly moved on from the undeniable trauma of his past including getting kidnapped into an alternate dimension by an evil monster because he apparently was weak and the love of his life not reciprocating his feelings. Will realized that the second part definitely didn’t sound as bad as the first but to him it was. Maybe even worse.
Okay, not worse, definitely not worse. As he twisted his key, unlocking the red door that led to their apartment he told himself ”you need to get over him.” He let out a sigh and put a fake smile on entering the apartment.
”Hey, I’m back” Despite liking it here, calling this place home felt wrong. Even though he honestly wanted to forget about Indiana as a whole and never return, he did grow up there.
”Hey Will! How was school?”
”It was good”
Will took off his coat and hung it up on the coat hanger as his brother kept the conversation going.
”I don’t feel like making dinner and also we don’t really have anything to use so i was thinking-”
For the last ten seconds Jonathan’s voice had slightly become more and more hushed until it was fully mute.
”Will. Will!”
The fullness in Will’s ears was immediately released as his brother shook some sense into him. Will jumped as he was shaken and quickly turned the letter he was holding in his hand away and put it down on the carpet again.
”I was asking you about dinner, does pizza sound good?”
Will was still shaken and trying to fully come back to his senses but tried his best to give his brother a good answer.
”Uh y-yeah pizza’s good”
”You okay?”
”Yeah sorry i just zoned out”
Will faked a chuckle as his brother turned his heel and went over to the phone. Slowly, Will bent down folding his knees and looked at the letter again. During the short conversation he had with his brother he had managed to convince himself he had read it wrong. Or that his eyes were playing tricks on him. Now looking at the letting between his fingers it read clearly ”Michael Wheeler” next to the address it was sent from.
Knowing that Jonathan would tell him not to read it or at least show him if he saw it, Will hurried into his bedroom. A small room with a big window visible right in front of you when you walk in. His bed, a small single, was pushed into the left side of the room and across from it was his desk. All of his art supplies were stuffed into a little box that was standing on the floor next to the desk. An empty canvas he had planned to work on the other day was still standing on the easel that was pushed into the corner next to the door. Surrounding it was multiple paint tubes and brushes that had previously been used. The room itself wasn’t a lot. Due to all the stuff it could sometimes feel suffocating to just stand in there. But not to will. If anything, the mess distracted him from his own thoughts and feelings which sounds depressing but it felt good to have a place like that. To know that there is one room where he can just paint and not think at all.
Will heard his own breath quiver as he slowly opened the envelope. It was stamped with red wax and the paper was neat. As if someone had really spent time on this letter. Which was a nice thought until Will remembered who that someone was. Folding open the paper felt like giving up. Like he was throwing away all the development he had made moving on. Trying to at least.
But it was Mike. Will knew that whether he wanted to open the letter or not he would anyway. See that’s the thing about Mike Wheeler is he had this magnetic pull on Will.
Moving away and getting new friends was only going to work for so long and Will knew that. Still, opening up this letter and seeing the words ”Dear Will” in Mike’s handwriting nearly gave Will a heart attack. Will pulled his eyes down and kept reading anyway.
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Dear Will
I hope you’re doing well. Hopefully nyu is everything you hoped it would be. It feels really weird writing to you, I have to admit. If you don't want to answer, you don't have to.
I talked to Jonathan the other day. He said you like it at school. I honestly could have just called and asked for you but I wanted to give you space. I still do. So I’m saying it again, you don't have to write back. Seriously
Anyway I didn’t really have anything specific to ask but I will prepare questions and things to tell you for the next letter. Yes there will be more.
I guess I just wanted to show that I care. Even though I know that’s kinda shitty to say given how I acted last time we saw each other. I’m still sorry for that. Did you get a new suit? I hate thinking I ruined your only one. I better stop writing now I’m rambling.
Wish you all the best Will
From, Mike
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Will fought hard to keep back the tears forming in his eyes and the lump slowly appearing in his throat. Once the first tear fell and rolled down his cheek into his hands it was over for him. He crouched down against his door suffocating in his own tears. Holding back his sobs to try not to be heard by Jonathan he covered his entire face with his hands and laid there on the floor in silence. Until eventually his breaths slowed down and he reached a reasonable speed he stood up, wiped his tears, crumbled up the letter and threw it in the trash. Then he made sure he looked presentable and walked out of his room slamming his door. Shutting out every single piece of his heart that still belonged to Mike Wheeler and left it there.
Will knew Mike wasn’t like him and even if he was it was too late. Will might’ve wanted to go back to Mike for a second there but he was not going to surrender to the sound. He wouldn’t let himself, not again.