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When Mike waves to them in that dorky fucking outfit in the airport, Will bluescreens. Because Mike fucking wheeler, his longtime crush, the boy who is genuinely scared of a flu shot to the point he made Will come with him when they were 9, has piercings. Not only piercings, but he has on fucking eyeliner.
And not just like, an ear piercing. Which, he does have, but he also has two silver rings in his lips, and one in his eyebrow. And Will is going to fucking implode, because oh my god.
And then he opens his stupid fucking mouth and he has a god damn tongue ring. fucking christ. What the hell has Mike been up to, back in Hawkins. Will needs a fucking breather, but then hes going in for a hug, and Mike only half gives him one, but he barely even registers it, because he might actually be dying.
'Okay, Will. take a deep breath.' he thinks to himself, 'You can do this.'
And he carries on like normal. As normal as he can be, when it’s his birthday and Mike didnt even fucking remember. whatever. It doesn't matter. Except- It kind of does. Mike has always done something special and separate for his birthday. Every single year. Did his friendship mean so little to Mike that less than a year without Will constantly in his space and he forgets?
Anyway- he's given him the painting. Cried about it. (Which- fucking embarassing. Especially since Jonathan probably noticed. God, he’s not looking forward to that conversation.) And now they're waiting outside a gas station for Argyle and Jonathan, who are probably smoking in the bathroom. And Mike is talking to him, but he's not honestly listening, only responding on autopilot. Because every time Will speaks, Mike is playing with those silver rings in his lips. With his tongue, no less, flashes of soft pink tormenting Will.
This is honest to god a form of torture. What did he do wrong, in a past life, to deserve this?
And so Will does something incredibly stupid, which he doesn't normally do.
"Mike." he interrupts, forcing his eyes back up to Mike's.
Mike stops talking, blinking. "Yeah?"
"You know it was my birthday, right? Yesterday."
Mike raises an eyebrow. the one with the fucking metal, glinting in the late afternoon sun, streaming in through the window and making Mike look even prettier. The way he looks in the sunlight is… Will doesn’t have the words to describe it, but he thinks he could paint it. He thinks he could do it justice, if he really tried.
"Yeah, of course. I had a gift, actually but- oh my god." Mike cuts himself off and smacks himself in the forehead. He drops his hand and looks at Will with panic in his eyes. "I didn't say happy birthday, did I? God, I'm so sorry Will, really, I must've gotten distracted and forgot. Oh my god. That’s so bad, I’m so sorry. Really, I am. God that so fucked up, I’m-"
Will cuts off Mike's rambling. "I... have an idea. For a gift. You could give me."
Mike blinks at him in confusion. “Right now?”
“Yeah.”
Mike blinks owlishly at Will some more. "But... we're in the middle of nowhere?"
Will hums. "All the better for it, honestly." he mutters, eyes dropping down to Mike's lips for half a second.
(listen. Mike and Jane are broken up. And he's been trying so hard, because that’s literally his sister’s ex but god. He had Mike first, and Mike has to know he lied. There’s no way he genuinely thinks Jane commissioned that painting, so-)
"what is that supposed to mean?"
Will doesn't answer. He does, however, inch closer to Mike.
"I... you look really good, Mike. With the... piercings." He says, eyes roaming all over Mike’s face.
Mike blinks, a light dusty pink appearing on his pretty, pretty face.
"Oh. thanks! Max told me not to get them but like, Eddie was doing it for free, and you know I'm scared of needles, but he numbed me, with like, this cream? I don’t know. He sterilized the needles and stuff, I watched him do it."
Will hums, inching closer.
"Yeah?" he says softly, bringing a hand up to Mike's hair. Which- another problem for him. because it's long and looks very, you know, tuggable. Hand threaded through- able. Play with-able.
Mike's not pulling away, and his pupils are widening. Which means, bingo, bullseye, hit the nail on the head. Will's not crazy, and Mike wants him too. (Thank god. That would’ve been super embarrassing, if he didn’t.)
Mike gulps. "Y... yeah uhm. God, my mom was so mad, but she let me keep them, because i have a perfect 4.0 right now, and she figured i could just take them out if I needed to, and-"
"Mike."
"Yeah?" Mike says, voice dropping to a near whisper, eyes stuck somewhere on Will’s face below his eyes.
"Stop talking," Will mutters, and his other hand goes to Mike's waist. He can feel the full body shiver that overtakes Mike in his hands. He feels it reverberate through his bones. He thinks this is what it feels like to be high.
He cannot believe he’s about to kiss Michael fucking Wheeler, who looks so fucking good with the metal in his face.
He leans in. Mike holds his breath, eyes fluttering closed.
Their lips meet, and Mike spurs into action. with a jerky movement, he's yanking at Will's shoulder with one hand, and scrabbling for purchase on his waist with the other, pulling Will down, down, down.
Their lips break apart, so they don't clash their teeth together, when Mike falls backwards, and Will's hands land on either side of Mike's head. Mike blinks up at him, dazed. his eyes are almost fucking black, and Will is really going to lose his mind. God. It feels like a dream, that Mike Wheeler, his Mike, is looking at him like that. Hungry, desperate. Like he wants to devour Will. Lucky him, Will also wants to devour Mike.
He keeps one hand to the side of Mike’s head, and the other drifts down to the hem of his shirt, and Will is so fucking happy Mike wheeler is a sloppy person who never tucks in his shirts, because it allows him to graze his fingers along the skin there. Mike whines, and moves the hand on Will's shoulder to the back of his head, and forces him down, back to his mouth.
And then they’re kissing again and like, jesus fucking christ. If kissing has felt this good the whole time, it makes perfect sense he spent last summer at the cabin, making out with Jane. He wants to do this forever, until he could sketch Mike’s mouth, his body, from memory of touch alone.
And then Mike swipes his tongue across Will's bottom lip. Will is startled, he opens his mouth in a gasp, and if he thought this was good before-
Mike’s fucking tongue ring is driving him up the goddamn wall. Driving him fucking crazy, because Mike is tracing Will’s teeth with the tip of his tongue, and then Will has the bright idea to suck on Mike’s tongue.
Which- best idea of his life, or worst mistake he's ever made, he doesn't actually know, because that god damn jewelry is creating a very pleasant pressure against the roof of his mouth. Will gasps, and Mike swallows it down, greedy.
And then Will pulls away, because unfortunately, he has to do things like breathing.
"Christ," he mutters, eyes roaming Mike's face, Mike, who's staring up at him like he never wants to move, never wants to leave, "I need to meet this Eddie guy. Thank him or something."
Mike grins, laughs, and leans back on his elbows to kiss Will again. And then Mike is going "Will. Will wait let me- let me do-"
And then he's pulling away, sitting up, pushing Will away.
Will feels a spike of panic, but then Mike pushes him onto his back. Okay. Okay, Will can handle whatever the hell he's about to do-
Mike climbs into his lap, and leans down, kissing him thoroughly, swallowing down every gasp, every whine, every noise that Will can't help himself from making.
And then, he trails that stupid mouth down Wills jaw, and Will thinks he's scratching Mike's back so hard there's going to be marks, even through the shirt, and Mike's breath is hot on his neck, spit slick lips gliding easily down it. The tiny little spikes on Mike's lip rings scratch him ever so lightly, and Will might genuinely pass out.
Mike, evidently remembering he has a tongue, starts to use it. He licks a stripe down from his jaw to his collarbone. The two sensations- hard metal and soft muscle- make Will see stars. One hand pulls at Mike's hair, and Mike groans against his neck.
Jesus fucking christ, man.
Mike, completely without Will's knowledge, because too focused on Mike Wheeler's stupid god damn mouth, has managed to unbutton some of Will’s shirt.
And so now, that stupid mouth that Will really fucking hates, is on the dip in his collarbone, biting lightly, soothing it with a lick, sucking.
Will is going to die. He’s going to die happy, getting a fucking hickey from Mike god damn Wheeler.
Will can't take it anymore, so the second Mike pulls away from his neck, he yanks him back up, back up to his mouth, because he wants to memorize the shape of Mike’s teeth with his tongue, just like Mike has done to him-
And Mike pulls away abruptly, sitting up on Will's thighs.
"Uhm," he starts, "How long- how long has this been happening."
Will leans back on his elbows, so very fucking annoyed. "How- i dont know, Mike, but i would quite like to get back to it because-"
Mike cuts him off. "Will. We're in a car. Your brother is probably going to be back soon.
Will blinks. Then he groans, and falls back onto the seat, hands over his face.
"You- fuck you, Mike."
"Excuse me?" Mike asks, amused, as he climbs off Will and sits in his seat properly, squinting into the rearview mirror and fixing his hair, "Sorry I don’t want Jonathan Byers catching me making out with his little brother-"
"God Mike, shut up," Will mutters, sitting up and staring at himself in the reflection of the window. He buttons his shirt up, covering his skin, already blooming purple and red in the places where Mike had his mouth.
Fuck, he wont be able to wear any of his old and distressed sleep shirts, the ones with collars soft and sagging, until those fade.
Mike listens, snorting and seemingly giving up on fixing his appearance, straightening his shirt but not much else.
Mike looks- well. he looks wrecked, his hair still messy, lips red, pupils still blown wide. and Will- Will did that. William Byers did that to Michael Wheeler, and it kind of makes him want to jump up in the air and click his heels together. Or something like that. Whatever, he's not exactly thinking straight at the moment. He just made out with Mike fucking Wheeler, give him a break.
"Dude," Mike starts, but Will isn't having that.
"Don't call me dude, you just had your tongue in my mouth, and you gave me a fucking hickey, Michael," he deadpans, staring at Mike like hes an idiot.
Mike blinks. "It was multiple and… uhm... baby...?" he sounds unsure, but if he calls him that again Will's going to start kissing him again, so-
"Nevermind. dude is fine. That's- yeah. That's okay."
Mike opens his mouth again, probably to ask Will questions like, what does this mean, and what does this make us, things like that, and then Jonathan and Argyle are opening the doors.
Thank god they're both high out of their minds, way too out of it to notice the fact Will and Mike have obviously been doing things that the people of Hawkins think two boys shouldn't be doing.
Jonathan throws two coke bottles back at them, along with a couple bags of chips and two gas station hot dogs, and Mike's eyes light up.
"You got me relish!" he exclaims, snatching the hot dog from Jonathan's grasp.
"Yeah, Mike, I've known your hot dog order since you were eight. so."
Mike doesn't answer, too busy stuffing his face with greasy food that cannot be good for him, with way too much excitement.
Will smiles as he opens his coke, because Mike wheeler is still just a dork, even though the guy has some skills with that stupid big mouth of his. (Will wonders if he'll kiss him again, when they get to the hotel. Prays that he does, honestly.)
Will tunes out whatever conversation Argyle and Jonathan are having, and sits sideways in the seat, draping his legs over Mike's for the rest of the ride.