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May
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In May of 1986, after months of living in military housing, the Byers family move into the Wheeler house. As much as Mike protests that Will can stay in his room, Karen sets the Byer brothers up in the basement. The couch for Jonathan, and a mattress from the old sleepover days for Will. Mike helps Will bring his scarce belongings from the car to the basement and doesn’t retreat to his own room until late in the evening. They spend the day organizing Will’s belongings, listening to records, and sharing conversation and laughter. Will falls asleep that night feeling safe and warm for the first time since leaving Lenora.
The next morning when Will steps quietly up the basement stairs and into the main level of the house, he hears chatter from the kitchen. He steps through the threshold and his gaze flicks over the already full kitchen table, before landing on a sleepy eyed and pajama clad Mike.
“Good morning, sweetheart” Joyce calls from her seat at the table; she pulls out the chair between her and Mike and gestures for Will to come and sit.
Will pads over and sits down, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. He tucks his chair closer to the table, bumping knees with Mike as he does so in the close proximity of the overly full table. They catch each other’s eyes and Mike’s shine as he smiles and leans towards Will, pressing their knees together again.
“Morning.” he says softly; just for the two of them. Will offers the boy a small, tentative smile and presses the rest of his leg against Mike’s in response; socked feet resting side by side under the table.
This becomes their routine, Will rising slightly later than Mike most mornings, plopping down beside him and letting their legs drift together aimlessly under the table while they eat breakfast.
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June
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Come June, the two boys have slipped easily back into their old routines; spending most of their free time together tucked quietly under the same blanket during movie nights, or sprawling on Mike’s bed side by side while Will draws and Mike reads comics. Easy. Their friendship is easy. Easier than it has been in years.
On one such movie night, Will lays sprawled on the couch, bare feet tucked under Mike’s leg while some horror movie that Jonathan chose plays on the screen in front of them. Jonathan and Nancy sit on the floor in front of the couch, backs resting lightly along the cushions. Will hasn’t been paying attention to the movie for the last few minutes, instead he’s focused on the feeling of Mike’s hand on his ankle. Mike’s hand, which is drawing small patterns around Will’s skin absentmindedly. Will glances across the couch to the dark haired boy, who has his eyes glued to the TV before them. Just then there’s a scream from the TV, and Mike tightens his hold on the other boy’s leg in response to the jump scare. Will lets out a loud gust of air, and Mike looks over sheepishly, “Sorry.” He says quietly and moves to pull his hand away. Will makes a sound of protest, and Mike scrunches his eyebrows together as he assesses the other boy’s reaction.
“No, it’s okay.” Will responds and smiles sleepily at Mike. He bumps his foot against the younger boy’s leg, asking silently for him to go back to tracing patterns against his skin. Mike obliges. Will hums contentedly under his breath, eyes finally drifting away from the taller boy and back to the movie. Mike doesn’t pull his hand away until the movie is over and they retreat to their separate beds.
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July
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By July, Jonathan hadn't been seen sleeping in the basement for at least a month, his body replaced most nights by Mike on the couch instead. A silent understanding falls between Nancy, Jonathan, Mike, and Will: don’t tell the parents. This silent agreement works fine for the two younger boys. They continue to spend their days glued to each other’s side. Whether prepping for crawls with the rest of The Party, or hiding away from the commotion of the overly packed house in either Mike’s room or the basement.
During a summer storm that happens upon Hawkins in the middle of one humid night, Will awakes with a start and a small exclamation of fear, bolting upright on his mattress. At first he can’t quite put his finger on what woke him up, just knows that he woke up with a pit in his stomach and the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He hears the rain thundering against the side of the house as his nightmare resurfaces; Vecna and demogorgons, and the memory of Mike and his other friends being ripped away from him come crashing to the forefront of his memory.
“Will,” he hears softly from the couch above him, “are you okay?” Will hears Mike shift under his blankets.
“I, uh, I think so” Will says shakily.
“Nightmare?” Mike asks, reaching down to find Will’s hand in the dark. Will clutches at Mike’s offered hand like he’s holding on for dear life; Mike who feels solid and sure in the dark of the basement.
“Nightmare.” Will sighs into the room. A flash of lightning and a clap of thunder happen almost simultaneously outside. Mike gives Will’s hand a reassuring squeeze as he feels the older boy jump at the sound.
They lay like that in the dark, hands clasped tightly together, Will playing the nightmare over and over in his head; Mike silent above him on the couch. Just when Will thinks that the other boy has fallen back asleep, he hears him clear his throat, “Are you okay?” he asks again, in that soft voice reserved just for Will.
Only at that moment does Will realize that he has tears running silently down his cheeks, and sniffles quietly. He doesn’t reply, just sniffs again and wipes the tears from his face with his free hand. At that, Mike pulls his hand back and Will hears him shift again. Before he can process what’s happening he feels his blankets being pulled back, and Mike climbs onto Will’s mattress under the covers with him. Mike doesn’t say anything, just pulls Will against his chest and wraps an arm around him. Neither boy speaks as Will settles back against the taller boy, tucking in closer. Will lays awake for a long while, thoughts frazzled and heart beating a mile a minute. No longer thinking about his nightmare, now only thinking about the closeness of the other boy. He listens to Mike’s gentle breathing against the back of his neck. Only after the rain has stopped and the sun begins to rise does Will finally drift back to sleep, Mike still holding him close against his chest.
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August
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It’s August and the boys have reached new territory. They don’t talk about it, but it has become apparent to both of them over the last few weeks. When the rest of the house is present, the boys act as they always have. The only clue that anything may have changed is that they now have even less of an idea of personal space than before. Silent touches under the table at meals, holding hands under their shared blanket during movie nights. If either Nancy or Jonathan notice, they don’t say anything. On nights when Mike sleeps upstairs in his own room, Will feels cold and exposed despite the summer heat. Alone in the basement his nightmares resurface worse than ever. After one such occasion, when Will awakes in a panic from yet another nightmare, he reaches towards the empty couch expecting to feel Mike’s warm body asleep there. When he doesn’t, he lets out a small sigh and curls deeper into his pillow.
After a long while of laying anxiously in the dark, Will decides he can’t be alone down here anymore; trapped by his nightmares and his spiralling thoughts. He climbs out from under his blankets, and steps lightly up the basement stairs. He tiptoes across the main floor and up the second flight of stairs to Mike’s bedroom door. He hesitates and debates knocking lightly, instead he reaches out to grab the handle and twists; the door opens with a small creak. As he steps inside the dark room and closes the door behind him, he can make out Mike’s form under the covers on his bed.
“Mike?” Will whispers into the darkness. He steps further into the room and whispers again, “Mike?” The other boy shifts and groans as he raises his head from his pillow, curly hair a halo around his face.
“Will?” Mike pushes himself further off his pillow and sits up, he can see Will’s outline illuminated by the moonlight coming through the cracks in the curtains. “Come here” the sleepy boy states in that voice that is only reserved for Will, not asking for an explanation; he can already tell why the boy is here without any exchange of words. Mike pulls the covers back and pats the bed beside him as he lays back down. Will clamors into the already warm bed beside the taller boy, and they lay facing each other. Mike slides his arm over the boy's waist and pulls him tight against his chest. Will lays his head over Mike’s heart and hears its gentle beating. They fall asleep like that; Will warm and safe. Two against the world.
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September
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Fall has begun its descent upon Hawkins by the time mid September has arrived. The leaves have begun their change to reds and yellows in the surrounding trees of The WSQK building. The Party has yet to find anything of importance during any of their crawls. They keep sending Hopper over to the Upside Down, and he keeps returning empty handed. Spirits have begun to fall with each failed attempt to find Vecna, or even a hint of anything useful. After one such occasion, Nancy suggests to the group that they all head back to the Wheeler house to let off some steam.
“Our parents are out for the night,” Nancy begins, gesturing between herself and Mike as she speaks, “we can order pizza, play some games. Something to lighten the mood.”
The Party shares glances and nods of approval, “Yeah, okay. I think we could all use a break.” Robin speaks from behind the desk she’s parked at.
Joyce and Hopper head back to the cabin and the rest of the group file out into the cool evening, piling into cars and beginning their trek to the Wheeler house. Will and Mike find themselves tucked closely together in the way back of Nancy’s car. Neither boy complains as they slide into their spots facing each other, long legs tangled together, both relishing in the other boy’s closeness.
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As the evening progresses into night, The Party splits into smaller groupings. The older teens sit at the kitchen table, half eaten pizza and drinks spread before them, and an abandoned card game pushed to the side. They can be heard laughing heartily over some story Steve is telling. Nancy’s socked feet are in Jonathan’s lap as he begins collecting and shuffling the abandoned cards back into order.
In the basement Dustin and El are curled at opposite ends of the couch, with Lucas propped against the front of it as he sits on the floor. A record has just ended, and Mike is standing off to the side, back to the room, perusing Jonathan’s stack of music options trying to decide what to play next.
“Where did Will go?” Lucas pipes up from his spot on the floor.
The other kids raise their heads and look to the empty chair that Will was occupying just moments before. “Snacks?” El yawns sleepily pointing to the empty chip bag before them on the coffee table.
Mike finds a suitable record and lowers the needle to its surface; crooning voices erupt from the speakers. “I’ll go find him.” He says as he crosses the basement floor to the stairs.
Lucas eyes the taller boy, and Dustin rolls onto his back and groans; “Can we just spend the night? I don’t want to get up - besides, we are all meeting tomorrow morning at The Squawk anyway.”
“Uh, yeah sure.” Mike says distractedly, already halfway up the stairs; his focus on finding Will.
El jumps off the couch and begins to follow Mike up to the main floor, “I will have Steve and Robin drive me home; I have training in the morning with Hop.”
“Night, El!” Dustin and Lucas call from their respective places.
Mike and El part ways at the top of the stairs; El towards the kitchen and Mike into the living room. Mike glances around the edge of the door frame into the room, scanning the empty space unsuccessfully for any signs of Will. The dark eyed boy retreats towards the kitchen; maybe Will was with the older teens, or grabbing more snacks like El said. When he enters the too brightly lit room he only sees the aforementioned teens and El. Steve and Robin are pulling on their coats and bidding Nancy and Jonathan farewell. No WIll. At this point, there is only one place that Will could be that would make any sense. Mike exits back through the kitchen doorway, throwing a wave back at the three leaving, and makes his way up the stairs to the second floor.
Mike lurches up the stairs and looks towards his room. The door sits open a crack and warm light spills from around the edges. Mike knocks softly as he opens the door wider; he knows Will must be there, but doesn’t want to startle him by bursting in unannounced.
“Hey.” Mike says softly as his eyes land on Will, who is sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, face towards the slightly ajar window. Fresh air seeps lightly into the room.
Will spins around to see his best friend leaning against the door frame, “Hey yourself.” Will smiles and gestures for Mike to join him on the bed.
“Everyone wondered where you got off to,” Mike crosses his legs beneath himself as he eases down close to Will, “you okay?” An edge of concern lacing his voice.
Will reaches out to take Mike’s hand gently in his own, a sense of comfort pooling over him at the touch, “I just - I needed some time. It was too stuffy in the basement with everyone there, and I didn’t know where else to just take a minute; is it okay I snuck up here?”
“Of course, my space is your space. You know that.” The taller boy smiles softly and squeezes Will’s hand in his. Will shifts sideways, closer to Mike, and rests his head on the other boy’s shoulder. Mike hums softly and rests his cheek against the other’s soft hair.
They sit like that for a few blissful minutes, letting the fresh air from the window drift over them as Mike draws lazy circles along the back of Will’s hand. The door behind them bangs back against the wall, and both boys jump apart quickly; a deep rouge creeping onto their faces as they spin around to see Lucas stopped in the doorway. His eyes are huge and questioning. “Uhhh,” he says, seemingly lost for words, “Nan-Nancy said you had extra blankets in your closet; Dustin and I were going to make up the basement to sleep since it’s getting pretty late.”
“Oh uh, right.” Mike can’t seem to make eye contact with Lucas as he stands up and drifts over to the closet. Will clears his throat as he rises to close the window, before leaning back against the window frame and following Mike with his eyes as the taller boy reaches to the top shelf of his closet to pull down a few thick blankets and an extra pillow.
“I didn’t mean to just barge in,” Lucas is looking at his feet, “I didn’t know you two were up here. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He glances from Will to Mike and back to his feet.
“No, Lucas, it’s okay.” Will smiles at him, and rushes forward to grab the pillow that has begun sliding off the mountain of blankets that Mike is holding.
The three head back down the stairs towards the basement. Mike slips into the living room where Nancy and Jonathan are now reclining on the couch there, “We’re all gonna sleep in the basement. Can we catch a ride to The Squawk tomorrow?”
“Nine AM sharp or you can walk!” Nancy teases from her place on the couch.
“Yeah, yeah.” Mike rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at her as he drifts back into the hall.
The three boys wander into the basement only to find Dustin already passed out on the couch, snoring loudly. Lucas huffs under his breath and grabs a blanket from Mike’s arms to throw haphazardly over his sleeping figure. “He’s lucky I don’t push him to the floor and take the couch myself.”
Will wanders over to the record player and removes the needle; silence falls over the room. He looks over to Mike and Lucas who are silently dividing blankets and pillows between them, setting themselves up on the floor. He grabs his toiletry bag and dips into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he returns, the overhead lights are off, the room illuminated only by a small table lamp in the far corner. He blushes softly as he sees that Mike is set up right next to his own mattress; Lucas a few feet away, perpendicular to their pillows. Both boys are laying quietly in the low light under their respective blankets.
Will steps over Mike and crawls into his own blankets before rolling to face him, aware that Lucas is only a few feet away. “Do you have enough blankets? I brought down that fuzzy blue one from my room that you like in case you don’t have enough.” Mike whispers as he rolls to face the shorter boy. The blanket Will loves because it smells like Mike.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you.” Will looks above where he lays to see Lucas with his back to them, before he reaches from under his covers to find Mike’s hand. Mike obliges and they lace their fingers together lightly.
After a moment of silence Lucas pipes up sleepily, “‘Night, guys.”
“Night.” Will and Mike whisper back at the same time, eyes locked on each other in the low light.
They sleep with their hands entwined together all night, and in the morning when Lucas rises before anyone else, he doesn’t say a single thing about how Will and Mike are curled closely together, hands still laced tightly between them.
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October
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The afternoon before Halloween, Will finds himself riding a hospital elevator up to the fourth floor where Max’s room is located. The boy hasn’t been to visit her in a few weeks, and a feeling of guilt washes over him. He needs a break from the chaos that is the Wheeler house and manages to slip away after breakfast; telling Joyce quietly where he’s going as he pulls his shoes on.
The elevator dings as it reaches his destination and he exits into the brightly lit hallway before the doors are even fully open. He wanders down the hall, passing a few staff members. When he reaches Max’s familiar room he pauses before opening the door. He sighs heavily in preparation for the sight of her as he enters. There she lays, tubes running from her small body to the machines beeping steady rhythms beside her.
“Hey Max” Will says as he crosses the floor to her bedside and sits down on a chair that’s already pulled up beside her. He reaches out for her small, cold hand and takes it tightly in his own.
“No Kate Bush? Let’s fix that.” He uses his free hand to rewind the tape that is always in the stereo beside the bed, and when it’s done he presses play and turns the volume down just a touch. The woman’s sweet voice drifts into the room. Will spends a few minutes looking over the girl in front of him, checking for any signs of movement or consciousness even when he knows there’s no point. The boy prattles on with updates about crawls and other Party news that she has missed since last time he visited; even if he thinks Lucas may have already told her.
When he feels that Max has been adequately updated, he sits back and sighs. One round of Running up that Hill drifts to a close before the same song starts back up next; the 45 minute loop is the best that they could make her. Will hums along under his breath.
There’s one more thing he wants to talk about, but he hesitates with fear; what if she really can hear what he’s saying? What if when she wakes up (because she will wake up) she remembers the confession on the tip of his tongue?
“Max,” Will starts slowly, “I-I don’t know if you can actually hear me, but I need to tell you something; get something off my chest. I don’t know who else I can tell, and I hope you won’t hate me for it when you wake up.”
He pauses and gives her small hand a squeeze before he lets out a gust of air he had been holding, “Jon-Jonathan knows this about me, but no one else does.” He takes another deep breath, “I’m…I’m gay.” Will whispers this last line ever so quietly. He clears his throat and says it a second time with more confidence, “I’m gay.” A single tear drips from his eyes.
Will expects Max to shoot upright in the bed, rip her hand from his with disgust and call security; something. He expects scrutiny and horror from her, but she continues to lay unresponsive, breaths continuing evenly.
Will continues shakily, “I, um, I think I’ve always kind of known, you know? That I was…different from the other guys; that I, uh, don’t like girls the way I’m supposed to…” He trails off and clears his throat, looking up to her resting face that is surrounded by a halo of fiery red hair. “And I hope that you wouldn’t hate me for that.” He sniffles lightly and wipes his cheek with the back of his hand to clear the tears silently rolling down his face.
Just then, WIll hears the door creak open across the room. He jumps slightly, and looks over to see Lucas striding in with a coffee in his hand. “Hey, WIll! I didn’t know you would be here today.” He crosses the room and pulls up a second chair beside the bed.
“Here, take my seat.” Will wipes a single remaining tear from his face quickly and stands to move out of the way to swap chairs with Lucas so that the other boy can be closer to Max. Lucas smiles at him and sits down in the offered chair, taking Max’s hand and lifting it gently to his lips.
He looks back at Will again, “You came by yourself today?” If the other boy has noticed that Will has been crying, he doesn’t mention it.
“Yeah,” Will begins, “I haven’t been in a few weeks and there was lots to catch Max up on.” He looks at the floor and blushes slightly in embarrassment, remembering his confession from just a few moments before.
Lucas hums in understanding and sips his drink. The boys sit in silence for a few moments, Kate Bush still droning quietly from the stereo beside the bed. “She wouldn’t hate you.” Lucas says in almost a whisper, looking over to Will with a steady look in his eyes, “She wouldn’t even think twice about it. None of The Party would.”
Will freezes as panic sets in. Lucas heard him. He feels the tears threaten to spill over once again. He tries to speak, but the words get caught in his throat. Lucas continues quickly, “Will! Deep breaths, dude. It’s okay. I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s just that none of us are going to think differently about you. I promise.” Lucas rests a reassuring hand on Will’s trembling shoulder.
Will takes a shuttering breath. He takes another. A few tears escape his eyes, but not as many as he thought there would be. “You don’t hate me?” He whispers.
“Not even a little bit.” Lucas continues with a goofy grin, “Besides, you and Mike aren’t that subtle. I’ve had my suspicions for at least a couple months.
“Me and…Mike?” Will raises an eyebrow, confusion apparent on his face.
“Yeah man, last month when we all slept over in the basement you two were holding hands and all snuggly and stuff when I went upstairs before anyone else was up.” Lucas says this like it's a matter-of-fact.
Will blushes profusely, “We’re just friends, Lucas. Mike doesn’t even know.” He’s adamant about that fact.
Lucas squints at Will like he’s trying to piece this information together, “Mmm, okay.” He says disbelievingly. “Again, I’m sorry I really didn’t mean to overhear. I know it was private, but Will, I still love you and so will everyone else; if you choose to tell them. I won’t say a word, I swear.”
A small smile tugs at the edge of Will's lips as he sighs heavily, “Thanks, Lucas. I appreciate you.”
“Anytime, man.” Lucas gives Will one more squeeze on his shoulder before turning back to Max and turning Kate Bush up ever so slightly.
Will excuses himself shortly after, head spinning after his unplanned conversation with Lucas. He bikes back to the Wheeler’s house, taking the long way so he can think. When he ditches his bike on the front lawn and enters the house he sees Mike sitting at the kitchen table colouring with Holly. Mike whips his head around and shoots Will a dazzling smile. The older boy returns the smile and moves to sit with them at the table, you and Mike aren’t that subtle running on a dizzying loop in his head.
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November
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Only a week later November has arrived and with it, the winter chill begins. It’s the beginning of the month, and Will has been extra quiet and reserved the closer the 6th gets. At breakfast, while the rest of the table is boisterous and full of laughter, Will, tucked into a mustard yellow knit sweater, sits beside Mike quietly and stirs his cereal aimlessly.
“Hey,” Mike bumps knees with Will and reaches over to give his thigh a gentle, lingering squeeze, “Do you want to build a fort today and hide out together like when we were younger? I wanted to take you somewhere, but it’s freezing out there today and I know you hate being cold.”
Will leans into Mike’s shoulder lightly and hums under his breath while he pretends to ponder the suggestion. He appreciates that Mike wants to help keep his mind off of everything.
“Just us?” He says with a small smile.
“Just us.” Mike parrots back, sweetly.
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After breakfast, Mike passes Jonathan on the staircase as he ascends to change out of his pajamas. “Um, hey Jonathan?” Mike asks meekly.
“Mike, what’s up?” Jonathan pauses on the step below Mike and turns to look up.
Mike clears his throat before he speaks, “Can you help me make something for Will for Christmas?” He says this in a nervous hush.
“Um, sure - what is it?” Jonathan questions.
”A - uh, a mixtape?” Mike stammers out, face flushing red.
”A mixtape. For my brother.” After a pause he continues, “Yeah. Yes, I will help you make a mixtape for Will.” He chuckles as he turns back around.
Mike sighs with relief and as he continues up the stairs he hears Jonathan still chuckling from the bottom of the steps.
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Mike and Will spend the next few hours perfecting their blanket fort in the back corner of the basement; the heaviness of the quickly arriving anniversary a distant thought. Will laughs at how silly this is; they haven't done this in years, but it brings out a sense of childhood joy that he hasn’t felt in even longer. Mike pulls over every extra chair and end table not being utilized on a daily basis to create a fort bigger than ever before.
“We’re bigger now, we need more room!” He protests when Will begins to question his building tactic.
They laugh and share stolen glances as their hands brush together as they throw quilt after quilt atop the structure. When Will decides it’s good enough, he begins pulling his mattress from its place in front of the couch over to the structure. Mike hums in approval as they stuff the old mattress into the fort. Will sighs and falls onto the bed, looking up into the canopy of blankets above him. Mike throws Will’s favourite blue fuzzy blanket through the entry and it hits Will in the face.
“Hey!” he exclaims, laughing heartily as he pushes the blanket away.
Mike bends down through the small entry with a dazzlingly bright smile across his face, “I’ll be right back.” And he dips back out and away.
Will repositions himself across the mattress and stuffs the blue blanket that still smells like Mike under his head as he hears the other boy rush up the basement stairs. Will closes his eyes and lets the quiet of the basement wash over him. The basement has become their safe space, tucked away from the rest of the Wheeler family. Hardly anyone comes down here anymore except for the two boys.
As Will continues to lay in the silence, a thought suddenly prickles in his mind and brings goosebumps to the back of his neck; it’s almost the 6th. He takes a deep, shaky breath and tries to calm himself back down; he doesn’t want to ruin their day with this. Tears threaten to spill over his lids as he focuses on breathing in deep, steady rhythms. Just as a few tears begin to spill onto his cheeks, he hears feet descending the stairs. Will sits up slowly and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, grateful that the fort keeps him from Mike’s line of sight to do so. Mike dips back through the small entryway and drops a load of snacks onto the mattress. He disappears for another second and comes back with Will’s sketchbook, his pencils, and the small stereo from one of the shelves by the couch. Only then does Mike look at the other boy. Mike’s face slides quickly into that of concern as he pushes everything he just dumped off to one side and slides into the fort next to a still tearful Will.
“Hey, hey come here.” He says in the softest and most gentle voice.
He holds Will’s sorrowful face gently in his hands as he wipes the offending tears away with his thumbs. He doesn’t say a word as he pulls Will into his side and tucks his head into his neck. No words need to be exchanged; they have mastered silent conversations. He rubs Will’s back in soothing circles and rests his cheek against the top of Will’s hair.
“I’m sorry.” Mike says quietly, “I thought this could be enough to keep it away.”
“It’s not - not your fault.” Will stutters through his tears.
Will thinks he feels Mike press soft lips to the top of his head before he says, “I thought I could make it better though.”
Mike takes Will’s limp hand in his and rests it in his lap. They lace their fingers together and Will takes another deep breath and sighs, “You always make it better.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Always.”
They sit in silence together as Will’s tears begin to slow and he relaxes into Mike’s comforting touch. After he has stopped crying, he yawns from the exertion of his emotions. His eyes drift across the forgotten items Mike had brought with him before he had noticed Will falling apart. Will spots a handful of his favourite snacks, his old cassette tape from Jonathan that has Should I Stay or Should I Go on it (where did Mike even find that?), and finally his eyes fall upon his sketchbook that has landed open off to the side. Will blushes and begins to pull away from Mike so he can reach out and flip the book closed; the book that landed open with a sketch of Mike front and centre. The sketch was from this past summer when The Party went to Lover’s Lake; Mike was relaxed back on his elbows, sun in his face, and a goofy smile across his lips as he looked towards Will.
As he goes to push the now closed book under the blue blanket, he catches Mike’s eyes quickly before blushing even deeper and looking away. “You always make me look so handsome and poised when you draw me.” Mike squeezes Will’s hand tightly where their fingers are still entwined.
“I just draw you how I see you.” Will states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Mike inhales sharply, and moves to tuck Will back against him, “Thank you.”
“For what?” Will allows himself to be pulled back in.
“For seeing me like that.”
—————
December
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In early December Will approaches Jonathan at the kitchen table, alone, to ask for his help with a very important task. His older brother is slouched over a stale cup of coffee, his camera beside him on the table.
“Hey buddy,” Jonathan smiles at his brother as Will pulls out a chair and sits down.
”Hey, can you help me with something this afternoon?” Will begins, “I have all the supplies, I just lack the equipment.”
“Sure, Will. What’s up?” Jonathan takes a sip of old coffee and grimaces at how bitter it is.
“Can you help me put some songs together for a mixtape for Christmas?”
Jonathan coughs into his mug and he raises his eyebrows as he asks, “For anyone special?”
Will’s face flushes in embarrassment and he looks to the table, tracing invisible patterns in the surface. He doesn’t respond and instead just shrugs noncommittally.
”Yes, of course I will.” Jonathan speaks again after a moment.
The boys spend the afternoon hiding in the basement transferring songs onto a blank tape one by one. Jonathan says absolutely nothing about the romantic track listing that his brother has picked out, presumably for the tall, lanky boy who resides two floors up. Or who should be residing two floors up, but Jonathan also says nothing about the fact that Mike’s bed has sat undisturbed all week, and that Will’s mattress, still tucked inside the blanket fort from last month, has two pillows instead of one.
—
Sometime around Christmas, Will awakes from a nap on the basement couch with a start as he hears the Wheeler’s basement door slam open and then closed again at the top of the stairs, and quick footsteps descend towards him. He sits up-right on the lumpy couch, rubbing sleep from his eyes and letting Mike’s blue fuzzy blanket covering him fall to his waist. He looks towards the stairs, expecting to see Jonathan coming to call him up for dinner, but lets out a small exhale as he sees Mike instead. Mike with his shaggy hair falling into his eyes, tucked into a too large navy sweater and a slight smile on his face.
“Will, I didn’t know you were napping! I’m sorry.” Mike crosses the basement and slides down onto the end of the couch by Will’s feet, crossing his long legs easily. Will yawns and tucks his own legs into a criss-cross position under the covers, “Well, I’m up now.” he smiles as he eyes the other boy from under his lashes, “What’s up?”
Mike, dark eyes ablaze with excitement, stares back at Will, eyes drifting down to the older boy’s lips quickly before back up to his eyes. “I know Christmas isn’t for a few more days, but I thought you might want to open your present now?” Mike inches forward, the old couch squeaking under his movements; knee gently brushing Will’s through the blanket. Will feels a flush spread over his cheeks, but doesn’t move away, instead dropping his eyes to his hands and shifting even closer into the touch.
Mike holds out a small, carefully wrapped red rectangular package topped with a small gold bow. Will looks between the gift and the other boy quizzically for a moment before reaching out his hand to take the offering from Mike; their fingers brush gently in the process. He turns the package over in his hands.
“Mike, you really didn’t have to.” Will states quietly, emotion apparent in his voice. He looks back up to the other boy, who now has a nervous glint replacing the excitement in his eyes.
“Will, of course I did.” Mike parrots the emotion back. He fidgets slightly with a loose thread on the blanket under him, and speaks again, “You think I wouldn’t get my favourite person a Christmas gift?” This time it’s Mike who can feel the blush creeping over his cheeks as he speaks.
The two boys look at each other for a moment before Will reaches forward and squeezes the other boy’s hand gently where it rests in his lap. “Thank you.” he barely breathes.
“You don’t even know what it is yet!” Mike squeaks back with a small huff of a laugh. “Go on, open it.”
Will looks back down to the small carefully wrapped rectangle in his hands, turning it over once again to admire the care of each crease and fold in the red paper. Ever careful, Will begins to slide open the tape holding the wrapping in place. He can feel Mike’s eyes on him, studying each move he makes with quiet intensity. Will lets out a small breath he didn’t know he had been holding when he uncovers the packaging of a cassette tape nestled in a clear case. In small scrawl along the bottom that Will would recognize anywhere ‘for Will x’ is written, and as he lets out another small breath, he flicks his eyes back up to Mike and smiles tentatively before flipping the case over and perusing the track list. Another breath catches in his throat and his eyes widen slightly as he reads the list of songs. He sees a mishmash of songs by Queen, The Clash, Bowie, Anytime at All by The Beatles, even a song by the Butthole Surfers. One song catches his eye near the bottom of the list and he huffs out a small nervous laugh; The Zombies The Way I Feel Inside.
“Mike, I…” Will trails off; his face burns and his stomach flips. He looks back up at the other boy once again and sees Mike swallow nervously.
“It’s - it’s too much, isn’t it?” Mike drops his head into his hands, “I just - I wanted to make you something special. Nothing else seemed good enough.” He peaks between his fingers to look at Will. Will who is sitting still, playing the lyrics to The Way I Feel Inside over in his head. He reaches back out and pulls one of Mike’s hands away from his face, cradling it in his free hand.
“Mike, it’s perfect.” Will blushes, “It’s just…hold on a sec.” Will releases Mike’s hand and places the cassette delicately on the blanket beside him as he gets up, pushing the covers away and standing up to cross the basement. He grabs his backpack off the floor near the base of the stairs and brings it back over to the couch where Mike is waiting, still looking nervous; like he might throw up. As Will sits back down, even closer to Mike than before, he unzips the front pouch of his bag and reaches in, before he pulls his hand back out he lets out another breathy laugh, “I didn’t have time to wrap yours yet.” He removes his hand from the front pocket, revealing his own mixtape for Mike.
Mike lets out a small gasp and his eyes glitter as Will passes the cassette over to him, “I guess we had the same idea. Track 7.” He says, not elaborating.
Mike holds the cassette close to his chest like it’s a precious artifact that must be kept safe. The boys look at each other again, and this time it’s Will’s turn to look nervous. Both boys are flushed in the face, and Will’s stomach can’t help but do another flip as Mike finally breaks eye contact to look down at the track listing. His eyes dart down the list: Journey, Prince, Tears for Fears, and finally, track 7: The Zombies The Way I Feel Inside.
“Will,” he breathes, a hitch in his throat as tears threaten to free themselves from his eyes.
Mike springs forward toward Will, pressing a small, timid kiss to the edge of his unsuspecting lips before wrapping him in a hug, their knees crashing together as he pulls their bodies close. Will sinks into the hug, arms wrapping around Mike’s as he presses his cheek into the younger boy’s shoulder.
“Thank you.” Mike whispers into Will’s neck.
They stay that way for a long time; pressed tightly together like they belong no where else but in each other’s arms.
—
Should I try to hide the way I feel inside my heart for you?
Would you say that you would try to love me too?
In your mind could you ever be really close to me?
I can tell the way you smile, if I feel that I could be certain
Then I would say the things, I want to say tonight
But till I can see that you'd really care for me
I will dream that someday you'll be really close to me
I can tell the way you smile if I feel that I could be certain
Then I would say the things I want to say tonight
But till I can see that you'd really care for me
I'll keep trying to hide the way I feel inside