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The Wheeler house was quiet, almost too quiet for a party sleepover. Will lie awake. How could he sleep knowing that tomorrow, everyone he ever knew (including him) was moving away? Will had been trying his best the last few months to get over Mike, to stop thinking about him at every moment, but the shadows that cast off old books reminded of the nights he spent with him, watching scary movies that Mrs Wheeler would not have approved of, and eating far too many gummy worms. It felt as if every thought would eventually lead to him. Will pushed a button on his new digital watch (that his Mom and Hopper had bought for him as a graduation present) and watched as the screen lit up with bright green numbers, 3:37am.
He turned over, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to fall asleep. The lumpy mattress he lay on didn't provide much comfort, wishing he had bagsed the couch before Lucas had.
After a few more failed attempts at sleep, he sat up from the uneven mattress, tiptoeing upstairs to the dark kitchen which was only lit by a faint streetlight glow through the window. Once he had turned on the light, he walked over to the cabinet, grabbing a glass which felt somewhat familiar in his hand. The Wheelers had kept the same glasses for years, the same cups he drank value brand orange soda and apple juice in when they were small, it was daunting knowing this was one of the last times he would drink from these glasses. Will filled up his glass at the sink, accidentally dribbling some water on his hand. He wiped his hand on his stripy pyjama bottoms before sitting at the small round kitchen table and sipping from his cup. Being up here was a lot less hot and stuffy than the basement.
He wished Mike was sitting next to him, telling him stories about knights and dragons, like he used to whenever Will got in his head. He wished he could have a re-do of one of their sleepovers before everything turned angsty and avoidant, before everyone moved on. Maybe if he hadn't come out, maybe things would be different between them. Mike had always been supportive of him. Will thought back to the day he practically spilt his entire soul to his friends. Memories of Lucas, Dustin, and El hugging him tightly. Memories of Mike standing to the side, barely mustering a smile. He tapped the cup with a finger. Now that he thought about it, maybe he hadn't been so supportive after all. Will looked down into his cup, his face reflecting off the water.
Mike suddenly appeared in the doorway. He awkwardly fidgeted with his messy dark curly hair, his shirt slightly rode up,he had gotten so tall so fast, so not all of his shirts fit well anymore. Will looked at him, his furrowed brows softened as he sat his cup on the wooden table.
“I was thirsty.” Was the only words Will could salvage from the storm of thoughts that swept upon him whenever Mike was in the room.
“Same here.” He mumbled as he slowly walked to the kitchen, filling a cup with water.
“Sorry if I woke you.” He tried to stop himself from staring at the back of his neck.
“You didn't wake me.” Mike sipped from his glass, sitting on an empty chair next to Will.
“Okay.. sorry anyways.”
The two sat in silence for a minute before Will stood up and back walked towards the basement steps. The last thing he wanted to do was be back in that sweaty basement, but he couldn't bear the silence between them any longer. Mike watched him walk away before butting in.
“Wait, Will.”
Will stopped walking and turned back to face him, a confused look on his face.
“Just- Sit with me a little longer?” Mike stood up, his big brown eyes almost begging,in a way that Will only recognised from when they were small.
“O-Okay..” Will walked back to the table, sitting down. His heart raced, curious as to why his friend was so eager for him to stick around.
“I feel like- I don't know. I feel like you might be avoiding me.”
Mike looked straight forward, the last thing he wanted was to look into his hazel eyes. Will didn't know what to say, it felt as if he opened his mouth, everything would just spill out and all of a sudden the whole town would know he was a homosexual.
“Will?”
“Sorry, I just.. I don't really know what to say.” He fidgeted with the sleeves of his hoodie, which were almost falling apart.
“If you don’t wanna hang out anymore, I'd rather you tell me.” Mike looked over at the awkward boy who sat next to him.
“I don't mean it like that, Mike- i really enjoy hanging out with you.”
“Then why didn't you come to my birthday last week?” Mike avoided eye contact, his eyes darting around Will's face.
“I thought I told you, I was sick.”
“Bull.” He kept quiet, his voice higher and softer than how he spoke with others, despite being mad.
“I had a fever.”
“Well, last year you came to my birthday when you had a stomach bug.” Mike stood up, boiling the kettle before leaning against the bench, Will followed, sitting on the kitchen island.
“Sorry.” He said, giving up arguing.
“It’s okay. I just don't understand, one day you avoid me like the plague, and the next you love me to pieces.”
Mike says, opening one of the kitchen cabinets and grabbing two mugs. Will looks down as he fidgets with his sleeve, pulling on the seams while Mike scoops hot chocolate powder into each mug. Mike watched him tug on the stitching of his hoodie as he shook his head, wanting to say something but holding back.
“That's the problem, I- I love you to pieces.” Will says, the word ‘love’ stings as it escapes his throat.
“I understand.” He pours hot water into both mugs, stirring with a teaspoon.
“No you don't.” He responds, tears welling in his eyes, and his voice stern, a voice Mike had never heard.
“I do, I do. I love you Will. You've been my best friend since kindergarten.”
Mike said casually, opening the fridge, and grabbing the milk that was in the fridge door.
“It's not like that. You remember at the squawk when i- when I- uhm.”
It suddenly dawned on him that he was about a few sentences from his best friend hating him. Tears ran down his face and he frantically wiped his eyes, hoping that Mike wouldn't notice, but he was staring right at him.
“Shit.. sorry.”
Mike sat both mugs full of hot chocolate with little mini marshmallows on the counter next to Will before standing almost in-between his legs and wrapping his arms around him.
“Mike-”
He gently pushed him away, a confused but also slightly disappointed look appeared on the curly haired boy's face. He had never rejected Mike's touch before, sure sometimes he'd try to avoid it, but not to this extent. He leaned against the counter again, staring at the ground as if he was disappointed in himself for being too much. He looked up as Will hopped off the counter, and leaned against it, mirroring Mike. Will sighed, bracing himself for what he was about to ask.
“So uhm- Can I ask you something?”
“What's up?” He perked up a little, relieved that he had broken the tension
Will took a deep breath, and was now looking at his feet.
“Have you- Have you ever liked a boy? Romantically, I mean.”
Mike felt a lump forming in his throat. Had he? He thought back to when he was little, posters of male rockstars plastered on his walls. He also thought back to a few years ago, when he was in a relationship with El, remembering how awkward it felt to hold hands with her in public, or how he would secretly hope that Hopper would burst in and interrupt their make out sessions, which could just be due to her below average kissing skills.
“I don't know.” Mike ran his hands through his curly dark hair and sighed, avoiding eye contact with Will.
“Have you thought about it before?” His voice softer than earlier, less worried about him judging and now wanting to help. Mike swallowed, his throat dry, he didn't want to reply. He just wanted to stand there and let the ground eat him alive.
“Yeah.. a little bit.” Which was half true, Mike had been thinking about liking boys, definitely not a little bit. It was the main subject of his thoughts these days. Will nodded, trying to catch a glimpse of his eyes through his bowed head. Mike lifted his head, brushing the hair out of his face and making eye contact with him for a second before looking away. Will reached his arm out, cupping his face with his hand, he didn't know where all this confidence came from. Mike made eye contact, before Will pulled his face to his own, kissing his lips for a moment before letting go and pulling away. Mike gulped, unsure of how he was supposed to feel, the only thing he could think was that his lips were softer than he imagined.
Will immediately burst into tears almost immediately, shaking with embarrassment and fear of what he just did. Mike didn't know what to do. He just stood there. Too afraid to say anything.
“Fuck, im- im so sorry.” Will sniffled
“-if you don’t wanna be friends anymore, i'll leave you alone, i swear i will Mike.”
Mike wrapped his arms around him in an attempt to calm him down. Will leaned into the hug, and the two stayed that way for a few seconds, before Mike broke away, handing him the hot chocolate he had made earlier. They sat in silence, sipping their hot chocolates for a few minutes. He felt Will's eyes on him the entire time, it made him want to throw up. He didn't know what to feel. Should he be mad? Happy? Annoyed?
“Uhm- im gonna go back downstairs, i should probably get some sleep.”
Will wiped the remaining tears on his frayed sleeve before walking down the basement steps to where the others slept.
Mike decided to try to sleep in his bedroom, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle the silence between them.
The next morning Mike was up before everyone else after barely getting any sleep. He had gotten so bored that he decided to make breakfast for the party, forgetting that they were prone to sleeping in. Eventually they started to emerge from the basement.
Dustin walked into the kitchen, stretching his arms above his head. He looked at Mike, spatula in hand, flipping a slightly crispy pancake, to the right of him was a plate with a huge pile of golden brown pancakes, the odd one burnt.
“Jesus, What are you doing up this early?” Dustin yawned, and sat at the small round table.
“I don't think 8:30 counts as early, anyways you should be thanking me for providing you with breakfast.” Mike turned to him, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. Max and Lucas walked into the kitchen together, both had puzzled expressions on their faces.
“What are you doing up? And pancakes, Why?”
Max asked in a judgemental tone.
“That's what I'm saying!” Dustin declared.
“It's our last day together, thought I'd.. I don't know!” He threw his hand up in the air before flipping the last pancake into the pile and rinsing the batter bowl in the sink. Max and Lucas both sat down at the table with Dustin, taking up the last two chairs.
“Arent you guys gonna eat?”
The room filled with silence.
“Im not really a… breakfast person.” Lucas looks at the mountain of pancakes with suspicion.
“Come on! I've seen you devour my Moms pancakes before, I used the same recipe!” Mike scrubbed dishes in the sink.
“No offense Mike, we do not trust your cooking.” Max said.
“Thats not true, you guys love my cooking!”
All of a sudden, Will emerged from the basement, already dressed, a backpack on his back and a suitcase in his hand.
“Sorry guys- I have to go or else I'll miss my bus.” Will sat his bags down next to him.
“I thought Mike was driving you later.” Dustin questioned.
“No, well- uh.”
“Will wanted to go to his dorm earlier, secure the most comfortable bed and.. yeah.” Mike saved him at the last moment. Most comfortable bed? What was that?
“Well- er- I guess this is goodbye.” Will said, and Dustin, Max and Lucas stood up and Mike took off his apron. Dustin hugged him first, followed by Lucas, then Max. Until it was just Mike left, almost forgetting that he also had to hug Will, he wrapped his arms around the group. He was barely hugging him, but it was the thought that counts.
The group stayed like that for a few moments, before they broke apart, and Will started sobbing.
“Im- Im gonna miss you guys so much.”
Will mumbled through sobs, his teary eyes somehow managed to make eye contact with everyone but Mike. But that could be due to the fact that he was standing to the side of the others, almost in the corner. His best friend of at least fifteen years was about to leave Hawkins, and he was once again, standing in the corner.
Everyone took turns hugging him one last time, when it came to Mike's turn, he just stood there. Will smiled at him, and he smiled back, unable to cry, unable to move. He watched Will walk out the door as a single tear ran down his cheek.
—----
2004
Despite having an entire case of CDs in his glovebox, Mike enjoyed listening to the radio every now and then. It helped give him a sense of the world around him. Sometimes, when a new trendy pop song would come on, he’d roll down his window and let his hair blow in the wind, and pretend he was a teenager again. Today wasn't one of those days. He had been working on his new book ‘The long sunrise’, the sequel to his semi-successful fictional-fantasy book he published, called ‘The long sunset’. The books were quite popular, no Stephen King, but still made him enough to keep a stable life.
Mike was on his way home, after attending a book signing just out of town. Some eighties song came on the radio, he thought it was eighties, at least it didn't sound as new as most of the songs they played.
Pressure, pushing down on me
Pressing down on you, no man ask for
He recognized the voice, he was pretty sure it was one of the songs Will, his childhood best friend, had played for him back in the day.
Under pressure that burns a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets
He chuckled to himself, reminiscing on the time when the two boys would sneak into Jonathan's room and “borrow” his cassette tapes. It felt so recent, but also so, so long ago.
Thats ok
That's the terror of knowing what this world is about
Watching some good friends screaming let me out
Mike wished he could be back home, playing dungeons and dragons with his best friends. It was funny, that he still called Hawkins home when he'd been living in Missouri for almost fifteen years now, and that he still called his friends from years ago his best friends.
Tomorrow gets me higher
Pressure on people, people on streets
He hadn't really clicked with anyone the way he did on the first day of kindergarten, but does anyone? Over the years, he had collected a few friends through his work, but he didn't really know anyone well enough to hang out outside of getting a beer at the local pub every once in a while.
Ok
Chippin’ around, kick my brains ‘round the floor
These are the days, it rains but it never pours
Mike sighed as he turned the corner, his old car squeaking.
People on streets
People on streets
That's the terror of knowing what this world is about
Watching some good friends screaming let me out
He tapped his fingers on the wheel to the beat of the song.
Tomorrow gets me higher, higher
Pressure on people, people on streets
He couldn't shake the image of Will walking out the door the last time he saw them, sure they'd met up for reunions, but it didn't feel the same. It felt like the last time he had truly seen him, the last time he saw that little boy that used to cuddle up close to his chest when the scary movie got to the scary bit, or the innocent boy that would sometimes laugh so hard he would fall to the floor. It was hard to believe that boy was gone forever, and all that was left of him was Mike's memories (and a little picture he kept in his wallet).
Turned away from it all like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it dont work
Keep coming up with love but its so slashed and torn
The lyrics reminded him of Will.
Why, why why?
Love, love, love, love, love
Insanity laughs under pressure were breaking
Can we give ourselves one more chance?
Mike clenched the wheel, his knuckles turning white.
Why can't we give love that one more chance?
His stomach churned, the image of him just stood there when Will told him he loved him kept replaying in his mind, he wished he had the guts to say something.
Why can't we give love, give love, give love
Give love, give love, give love, give love give love
Eyes filling with tears, he swerved the car to the side, pulling over abruptly, causing the car behind him to honk their horn. Part of him missed El, missed her brunette hair, missed her laugh, but a deeper part of him missed Will, his fuckass bowl cut that he could somehow pull off, his wide toothy smile he only showed at dnd campaigns or late at one of their sleepovers. The loss of El stung like a skinned knee, bloody and painful, but the loss of Will, the loss of Will hurt like a bullet wound.
‘Cause loves such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night
Tears ran down his face and he frantically tried to wipe them off with his hands. He was so close. So close to having everything he wanted, everything he could ever want, but he fumbled. And now it was just him.
And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves this is your last dance
He cursed himself, remembering the last reunion they had when Will brought his boyfriend Carlton along, before they all drifted apart. Wishing he had asked for a phone number or had some way of contacting him. But he also thought back to how he felt when he saw Will with another guy, holding hands, and sitting close enough for their knees to touch, all of these things that he used to do with him before he got with El and things changed.
This is ourselves
Mike reached into his pocket, pulling out a brown leather wallet. He opened it, sorting through years of gift cards and the odd receipt. There it was, behind his old Family video membership card, he knew it was there, hadn't beared to look at his face since he was eighteen.
Under pressure
Under pressure
Pulling the picture out of his wallet, unfolding it. He chuckled to himself. The picture was of himself, Dustin, Lucas and Will, when they were eleven or twelve, after winning the science fair. A bright green poster board behind the four of them read “Volcanic Eruptions” in bold blue and yellow letters. He had remembered arguing with Will about what colours to use, eventually settling on doing half and half, blue for Mike, and yellow for Will. A tear dripped onto the picture, he wiped it with his thumb, the way Will would when the bullying became too much, or after they got him back from the upside down. He tucked the photo back into his wallet and swerved the car back on the road, wiping his tears with his free hand.
Mike opened the door to his apartment, he had the money to upgrade, but had never bothered to, besides he liked how convenient it was being so close to town. His apartment consisted of a small living room with a couch, television, and a coffee table. A kitchen that had a small oven/stove, a countertop, and various cabinets. He also had a bathroom, a bedroom, and an office (which doubled as a spare room when Holly or Nancy stayed over, which was rare these days..)
Mike plopped himself on the couch, and pulled his flip-phone that he had bought himself for his birthday, out of his pocket, noticing a voicemail from Nancy.
“Hey Mike, It's Nancy.”
Nancy still hadn't gotten the hang of the new tech, and often forgot that contact names were a thing.
“So, you know how me, Robin, Steve, and Jonathan meet up every month right? So we were talking, and we ended up calling Mom and Dad, and the Byers, and were planning to meet up at Jonathan's for Christmas. Okay, talk to you later.”
Holy shit. His stomach churned, and he sped to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet bowl, and throwing up. He was excited to see his old friends again, but also terrified of the tension that would be between him and Will. He took a deep breath, flushing the toilet and splashing his face with water from the sink.
Maybe they had grown out of it, maybe it would be different now that they were older. What if Will is married to Carlton? Surely he would have heard about it? Surely he would've been invited to the wedding right? If Will showed up with a husband, he was sure he'd die, right then and there, just curl up into a ball and die. Mike sighed, looking at himself in the mirror, his eyebags, a few strands of his hair turning grey, and his stubble that he had been too lazy to shave. He needed to stop acting like a lovestruck teenager, he wasn't one anymore.
The next day he laid in his messy unmade bed wearing nothing but a pair of short-shorts he wore to bed, the taste of vomit in his mouth reminded him that he forgot to brush his teeth last night. He stared up at the ceiling, as if he was waiting for some sort of motivation to get him up. Remembering he had work to do, he sat up, not bothering to get changed. He walked out of his room and into his office which held a large desk that had papers with cover designs vaguely sketched on them all over the desk, some even crumpled up into balls that overflowed the small trashcan he kept under the table. Sitting in his desk chair he rubbed his eyes, logging into his computer. He had swapped his typewriter out for a computer after publishing his first book. Opening his emails, he noticed a familiar name.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Cover art.
Hello Mr Fox, I'm writing to you because I saw the post on your website about needing cover art for your upcoming book. Is this still available? I have a degree in art and would love to make something for your cover, as I am a huge fan of your work.
Thank you.
William Byers.
Mike leaned forward, squinting his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He refreshed the page, reading the email again.
Hello Mr Fox,
Oh shit. He had almost forgotten that he used a different name, Andrew Fox. Shit, shit, shit. How could he be so stupid? Coming up with a pen name was supposed to ensure his safety, make sure no one, even if they stalked hard enough, could find his address. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He clicked on the ‘Reply’ button, trying to form a sentence.
Hello William, It's actually Mike, I use a pen name. :)
Ew, that smiley face is just weird. Delete. Okay, try again.
Hey there ;) . First of all, thank you for emailing, second, this is kind of awkward, but it's actually Mike.. Andrew Fox is a pen name I made up..
He typed, before reading it and deleting it immediately.
Hi Will, this is awkward because we haven't spoken in a while. It's actually Mike, from Hawkins. Andrew Fox isn't real, I made him up because I was scared of if someone stalked me or something, it's weird. I'm sorry. Call me when you can. (8915789)
Sorry again
Mike.
His hands shook, and he sighed, digging his palms into his eye, his hands dragging down his face as he groaned.
“Fuck.” He grumbled under his breath as he clicked ‘Send’.
“Fuck.” Mike said, louder this time as he stood from his chair, going straight to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. He opened the cabinet, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and poured a generous amount into a glass before walking back to his office. The computer beeped while he sat, taking a sip of his drink and placing it on the desk. Mike sighed, bracing himself before looking at his screen.
From: [email protected]om
Subject: Book cover.
Hi Andrew, Is this still available? I'm an artist and would love to do a cover for your book. Thank you. Sincerely, Harper Williams
He took a large gulp of his whiskey, disappointed but also relieved that it wasn't him.
Brrring Brrring.
Oh god.
Mike pulled his phone out of his pocket. One call from an Unknown User. He cleared his throat, tapping the Accept Call button.
“Hello, Mike Wheeler speaking, who is this?”
“Hi Mike.”
Immediately recognizing his voice, he couldn't stop a grin from forming on his face.
“Hi Will.”
A silence went on for a few to many seconds practically begging for Mike to say something..
“Sorry again, for the email thing.”
“No, No seriously, it's not your fault.”
“Really? Cause I kinda feel like it is.”
“Mike, come on!”
Will whined through the phone, like nothing between them changed since they were twelve.
“Sorry. So, how are you? You still live in New York?”
“Yeah, I'm really thinking about moving back to Hawkins though, I don't know how much longer I can stand streets that smell of piss.”
“That, Yeah, that's pretty gross, but what about Carlton, didn't you say his family all lived there?”
“Carlton? Jeez- It's been a while.”
Mike felt a weight lift off his shoulders.
“Oh, I'm so sorry, you're not together anymore?”
“No, not for a while. Enough about me, how are you? I've been wishing I had your number for ages.”
Mike let out a gasp, forgetting he could probably hear it.
“Im.. im okay. About to publish my new book, as you already know.”
Will giggled through the phone.
“Are you still living in Missouri?”
“Yeah, I am, I am.
“Are you going to be at Jonathan's for Christmas?”
“Probably, I don't have any other plans.”
“Your wife won't want you home for the holidays?”
Mike chuckled, taken aback by his question.
“Jesus Will! I haven't had a girlfriend since El, also don't you think I would've invited you to the wedding? ” Mike said, probably oversharing.
“You're telling me that you, Mike Wheeler, haven't gotten a girlfriend since the girl you met in a forest? I even have better game than you and you're straight.”
Mike thought for a moment, about all the times he had crushes on girls, and how most of the time, he was actually looking at the girl's boyfriends instead. He thought back to when Will asked him that question that night. ‘Have you ever liked a boy?’, How much he genuinely looked like he cared, something Mike rarely saw from anyone, how he was so close to figuring it all out. Mike felt like he owed him a proper, honest answer, and owed him the truth instead of some sugar-coated half lie. He took a deep breath in, running his hands through his dark curly hair.
“Will?”
“Yeah?”
“I..”
A tear ran down his cheek, his heart beating faster than usual. The lyrics from earlier played in his head. He cleared his throat.
“Do you remember, do you remember the sleepover we had, the last sleepover we had?”
“With everyone?”
“Yeah, with everyone. With Lucas, Max and Dustin and us?”
“I. .uhm, I remember.”
“Do you remember when everyone was asleep and I came to get water?”
“I thought I was the only one who remembered.”
Mike let out an audible sob.
“So you remember.. everything?”
Mike asked.
“Uhm, most of it ..I think.”
“The question you asked me.. i think im ready to answer it now.”
Assuming the statement spoke for itself, he waited for a reply.
“Mike? Uh.. Are you gay?”
He waited for a moment before answering, he had known for a while, but had never put it into those words before. He inhaled, a tear rolling down his cheek as he breathed out.
“I think so.. yeah. I mean I like a- I like boys.”
Silence.
Mike panicked, immediately thinking that Will thought his uncertainty was weird.
“Holy shit.”
“Sorry- I'm sorry. Im not trying to mock you im just not too sure and-”
“Mike. I believe you. I just- i don't know. I guess I didn't expect this? I mean when I was little I used to hope, and try to believe that you were gay, that you were like me, but I guess as I grew older and you got with El, I slowly lost my superstitions.”
Will used to hope he was gay? Mike stood up, pacing around the small office.
“Im confused.”
“About what?”
“Do you like me?”
Silence.
“Will, do you like me?”
Will hung up.
Mike cursed himself, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of whiskey. Ringing him again, the phone went to voicemail.
“Will, come on. Please call me back.”
He slid down onto the cold kitchen floor, leaning against a cabinet as he sipped from the bottle. An hour later he found himself still sitting on the kitchen floor. He has called Will sixteen times, straight to voicemail each time. The only reason he stopped calling is because that stupid automated voice started to annoy him. By this time he had also drunk about a third of the bottle, causing him to be even more whiny then he already is.
“Will!! Call me, Babes!”
The next thing he knew he was lying on the kitchen floor, his arms sprawled out and his cheek pressing against the tiles. His head pounded as he reached for his phone that sat on the floor next to him. He turned it on, checking the time. 1:06am.
“Fuck..” Mike mumbled as he slowly pushed himself off the floor and leaned against the cabinet once again. Remembering the events of earlier that evening, he rubbed his eyes unsure of what to do. Still a bit tipsy from before, he stood up, and stumbled to his bed. The sheets were half off the bed and looked tangled. He plopped himself into his bed, falling asleep almost instantly despite his pounding headache and regret from what he had asked Will, it didn't take him very long to fall asleep.
Mike woke up at midday the next day, he had almost gotten twelve hours sleep, but it really didn't feel like it. His head somehow hurt even more than it did last night. Someone knocks at the door, but Mike can't be bothered to get up. If they needed him that bad, they should've called first.
“Hello? Does Mike Wheeler live here?”
He sat up from bed, recognising the voice. Although he only wore an old t-shirt and loose fit boxers, he walked out of his bedroom and to the door, opening it. A tall man stood outside his door. Mike looked him up and down. He wore a yellow sweater and blue jeans. His brunette hair looked tidy, like he had just fixed it before knocking.
“Will?” Mike stood there in awe, he could feel his heart beating in his chest.
“Mike.” Will took a step forward, wrapping his arms around him. His arms stayed planted to his sides as confusion filled his face.
“What are you..”
Will pulled away.
“I- uhm.. I drove here.”
“I called you.”
Mike couldn't take his eyes off of him, and he didn't want to. He wanted to look into those hazel eyes forever, he wanted to make up for all the lost time he got to look at him.
“Yeah.. i noticed i just.. didnt wanna fuck up and accidentally say something.”
Will mainly looked down at his hands, almost as if he regretted driving all this way.
Mike moved to the side, opening the door even wider, letting him in. He walked into the Wheeler boys apartment
“You can sit on the couch if you want. I'll be right back.”
Will sat on the couch, staring forward as if deep in thought. Mike went to his room, grabbing the first pair of pants he saw and putting them on, before taking a deep breath and walking back to the living room where Will sat.
“So.”
Mike sat on the couch, about a foot away from him.
“Why’d you drive all this way? I presume it wasn't just to say hello.”
Will took a deep breath before speaking.
“I assume you want the answer to your question?”
He fidgeted with his hands as he spoke.
“Yeah I do.. I just don't understand.”
“I wanted to talk in person.”
Mike nodded, he understood, he had wanted to talk to him in person for so long. So long that it felt surreal that he was actually here, sitting in his living room.
“You asked me yesterday if- if I like you. Honestly I didn't know how to react, but I just got in my car and drove here. I don't know, it's silly, but I guess I wanted to tell you how I really feel when I can't chicken out with the press of a button.”
Will kept his head down, looking up at him every few sentences.
Mike secretly pinched his arm, trying to determine whether this was real or not.
“I feel like, even after so long I owe you the truth. I- I really like you.”
He looked up, seeking validation in his eyes. Mike stared at him, unsure whether to hug him, throw up, or cry.
“Ive loved you for a really long time, since we were kids I think.”
Mike couldn't move. He couldn't have this be like the last time, where he just stood there, where he let him get away. He swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts.
“I haven't really- I don't know what I am Will. I don't know if I'm.. if im gay or anything I- I don't understand it all like you do.”
Will nodded, trying not to interrupt.
“I think.. I think I've loved you since kindergarten.”
Will's eyes started to tear, and he smiled. The first time Mike had seen that smile in years, aside from the picture in his wallet. He scooted a little closer to him, and put his head on the brunette's shoulder. Will reached his arm over his shoulder, his hands playing with the boy's dark curls like it was instinct.
“I really missed you Will.”
Will started to sob. Mike sat up, looking into his teary eyes.
“It's okay Will, I'm here.”
Mike sniffled, realising he was there. He was there, looking at Will. Looking at the boy who he grew up with. Tears ran down his face as he leaned in, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. Will melting into the kiss, his hands reaching up to cup his face.
Mike lay on his lap, looking up at him as Will played with his hair. Will smiled. Mike smiled back. The Wheeler house was quiet.