Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mike decides that Carlton is going to be a problem somewhere between the third time he says Will’s name and around the second time he sees the way Will laughs at one of his stupid, unfunny jokes.

It’s not even a big laugh. Just a soft one, like he’s letting himself enjoy it. That is what irritates Mike the most.

Mike doesn’t know why it bothers him. He tells himself it’s just annoying having a third person in a room meant for two. He tells himself it’s normal to feel weird when your roommate—no, your best friend—suddenly has a life that doesn’t include you in every detail.

Still, he watches as Will pulls on his jacket, checks his phone, and says, “I’ll be back in a bit,” in a voice that sounds practiced.

“With… Carlton?” Mike asks, trying to sound casual.

Will pauses for half a second. Then he nods. “Yeah. We’re just grabbing coffee.”

Just.

Mike waits until the door clicks shut before he realizes his chest feels tight.

That’s normal, right?

He’s always been very protective over Will, even when they were kids. It’s not exactly his fault he doesn’t trust Carlton with his stupid face and his stupid hair and his stupid…everything. Mike knows for a fact this guy doesn’t deserve Will.

Then who does?, he hears that little voice in his head say.

He’s taken out of his trance when he hears the phone ring. He walks over sluggishly to pick it up, dreading whoever is going to be on the line. He prays to God it isn’t Nancy asking if he’s coming home for spring break for the 8th time this week (really, it’d only be the second, but Mike’s a drama queen).

He picks it up only to hear his fiery, red-headed friend sounding very panicked and anxious.

“Will? Fucking finally. Okay, wait one second; I’m gonna get Robin in here.”

“Wait, Max—”

The line goes silent.

Okay…

“Okay, Robin, can you hear me?” This was from Max.

“Loud and clear.”

Before Mike can explain that Will’s not here at the moment, or that it’s Mike and he’ll leave a message, he hears Max say something that makes his chest heavy and leaves his mouth dry.

“Perfect. Time for Operation Get Over Wheeler.”

Wait. What?

Mike doesn’t quite understand what Max means. Wheeler, as in Mike Wheeler, as in him? His thoughts are moving at a mile a minute, trying to grasp the concept of Will needing to “get over him.” While trying to collect his thoughts, he jumps at Max’s voice through the phone, forgetting he was still on the line.

“Will, your thoughts?”

Shit. Mike was too busy freaking out; he didn’t think this far into…whatever this is.

“Will?” It’s Robin this time.

Mike has to say something. He knows he should just mind his own business, tell them that Will isn’t available, hang up, and then go about his day.

But instead of saying any of that, he clears his throat a couple of times and attempts to put on his best “Will” voice. Not the voice Lucas and Dustin try and say is the soft voice Mike only reserves for Will and no one else, but a voice actually mimicking how Will speaks. 

This is not going to be good, he thinks

“Hey guys,” Mike says, his voice sounding quiet and kinda croaky.

“Will, are you okay?” Max asks, sounding a little concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Mike says, slower this time. “Just a little—” He fake-coughs twice. “Just a little sick. Voice is a little scratchy.”

“I told you New York is cold. You need to start bundling up more.” Robin says concernedly.

“Okay, Mom.” Mike says sarcastically, forgetting he’s supposed to be sounding like Will, and cringes when he speaks in his normal tone. 

“God, I knew you living with Wheeler was a bad idea. You’re starting to sound like him.” Max spits out, venom lacing her tone. If anyone was as overprotective over Will as Mike was, it was Max. The difference is the only person Max was trying to protect Will from was Mike.

Robin’s voice is what brings the attention back to the matter at hand.

“Okay, so Max, tell Will your plan.”

“Right!” Max says excitedly. “Will, do you remember when you told us how you used to dream about Mike being, like, your first kiss, your first love, your first…you know…everything?”

Mike stands, stunned at what he’s hearing but heavily intrigued at what he’s learning.

“Yeah?” he responds, still trying to mimic Will’s voice but sounding a little shaky.

“So, Robin and I thought up a plan, but it’s a little…toxic. But I really think it could work.” Max is trying to sound supportive, but Mike can hear the smirk on her face.

“Plus, we think it’ll make things easier living with Mike,” Robin adds in.

Easier living with Mike? What the fuck? Since when did Will have a problem living with him?

A pause.

“So, I’ll take your silence as you wanting to know the plan.” Max speaks up. “It’s actually pretty simple. All the things you wanted with Mike being your first—not quite sure why because Wheeler is gross—you’ll do with Carlton instead.”

Mike feels his teeth grind together at the mention of Carlton’s name. He thought by this point he would reveal himself, start going back and forth with Max over her comment about him being gross, but he ignored it. But for some reason, he can’t ignore this feeling pooling in his stomach, a mix of anger and annoyance as much as he tries.

“Yeah, so that’s pretty much the plan. The only way to move on from Mike is to stop…saving yourself for him in a sense.” Robin says carefully, trying to find the right words. “You have to go out and experiment, even if Carlton isn’t the one. Just have fun. Living with Mike is already killing you, and you can’t keep that little flicker of hope that he might feel the same for you whenever he gives you that stupid smirk or talks to you in his “Will” voice.” 

Holy shit, he doesn’t use a Will voice!

It’s Max who speaks next. “So, Will, your thoughts?”

Mike had no words. He doesn’t know why the concept of Will moving on from him makes him so angry. Why would Max and Robin want Will to move on from Mike to go be with some…stranger? They know Mike. They know nothing about Carlton, yet they’re still pushing Will into his arms. They’re supposed to be Mike’s friends.

Why do you care so much that Will moves on?, that voice in his head coming back again.

He shakes it away as he usually does and focuses on how to respond to Max and Robin without giving himself away.

“Great plan, guys. I like it. I have to go; my, um—my prescription is here.” Mike says, his tone clipped but raspy. He has to get off this phone call now.

He hears Robin and Max wishing him, well, Will, some loving “feel betters” before he slams the phone against the wall and slides down the wall.

What the hell just happened?

______________________________________________________________________________

Hours later, and Will still hasn’t returned from his coffee date with Carlton. Shocker.

Mike has resigned from his position on the floor next to the phone to a fetal position in their living space. He looks pathetic. He feels it too.

Why does this hurt so badly? Mike has been through some tough shit in his life. His parents almost died, both of his sisters were targeted by Vecna, and his best friend was kidnapped when he was only 12 years old. Mike’s life has never been the easiest, so why does it feel like his heart’s been ripped out and stepped on?

Because this is different. Because monsters you can fight, you can plan for, you can bleed against and survive. This? This is quiet and cruel and happening right under his nose. Will was supposed to be safe. Will was supposed to be his. Mike protected him from bullies, from the shadows that kept Will awake at night, from the Upside Down itself, and now some asshole with a dumb laugh and a good head of hair thinks he gets to take up space in Will’s life like he earned it. Like he understands him. Like he deserves him. 

Mike’s chest burns with it, with the thought of Will smiling for someone else, trusting someone else, letting someone else stand where Mike has always stood. After everything they survived, after everything Mike did to keep him alive, this is what he gets? Will choosing someone who wasn’t there when it mattered? Someone who didn’t fight? Someone who doesn’t even know what he’s touching?

As if things couldn’t get any worse, he hears the sound of keys jangling in the door and laughter seeping into the room. Will’s laugh. At something Carlton said. Fuck him.

Mike hops to his feet. He doesn’t know what comes over him, but he speeds over to the door before Will opens it. He’s probably too busy giggling at whatever sweet nothings his stupid boyfriend is whispering in his ear. Fuck Will too.

By the time Will gets into the dorm, Mike is already standing at the door, not even trying to keep the anger that is so obviously apparent on his face at bay.

Will stumbles back when he collides with Mike, a few drops of his coffee spilling out onto the lid of his cup. The smile that was previously on his face has become a faint memory that is now replaced by a confused, cautious look directed at Mike.

“Hey Mike,” Will says carefully, a ghost of a smile returning to his face, but the same watchful look in his eyes.

A pause. Mike just stares at him, his face hot and indignant, and he can’t find it in him to care. The tension in the room becomes so palpable, you could slice through three demogorgons at once with it. 

Yeah, Carlton, did you know your boyfriend was connected to a hive mind since he was a kid and his powers only activated when me and his best friends were in danger?

Aren’t you his best friend?, there’s that voice again.

Carlton obviously doesn’t see the obvious tension in the room because he settles himself on the couch, legs spread, grabbing a blanket to put over himself. This fucking idiot.

Mike decides that he hates him.

Hates the way Carlton looks too comfortable in a place he was only invited into, not welcomed. Hates the way he spreads out on the couch like he belongs there, like this isn’t sacred ground, like this isn’t the same room where Will cried and shook and survived nightmares that would bring soldiers to their knees. 

Mike’s jaw tightens. Something sharp curls in his chest, and he realizes that he is done trying to push it down.

“I thought you said you’d be right back,” Mike says, eyes still locked on Will.

Will stiffens. “I—I got held up,” he says, careful again, like he’s stepping around glass.

Mike nods slowly, lips pressing into a thin line. “Right. With him.”

The silence is immediate and awful.

Carlton shifts, clearly sensing he’s walked into something he doesn’t quite understand. “Uh, I can grab my stuff if—”

“No,” Mike cuts in, finally turning to him. His smile is tight, fake, and all teeth. “Stay. I’m sure Will’s told you all about us. Our lives. What’s happened to us, even to just him specifically, in the past 5 years? I’m sure you know all about that.”

Will’s breath catches. “Mike—”

“Like how he couldn’t sleep unless the door was cracked open,” Mike continues, voice calm, deliberate. “Or how he still flinches at certain sounds. Or how he almost died more times than you can probably count.”

Carlton’s face drains of color. He laughs weakly. “I, uh… he didn’t really—”

“Yeah,” Mike says softly. “He usually doesn’t. Not to people who haven’t earned it.”

Will speaks up again, this time grabbing Mike’s arm. His eyes are filled with both confusion and begging. Confusion at Mike’s words and begging for him to not let Carlton into that part of his life.

He doesn’t want Carlton to know because he wants to move on.

Mike thinks that only makes him angrier.

Carlton clears his throat, tugging the blanket off his lap. “I actually just remembered I told my roommate I’d be back early.”

Mike shrugs. “Probably for the best.”

Carlton doesn’t argue. He’s on his feet in seconds, grabbing his jacket, avoiding everyone’s eyes. The door shuts behind him a little too quickly.

The room is quiet again. Too quiet.

Will looks at Mike like he doesn’t know whether to be furious or broken. Mike finally exhales, chest heaving, and thinks distantly that he won. 

That’s until he sees the look on Will’s face.

Rage. Fury. Pain.

He looks…broken.

Mike can feel himself wanting to smile. 

It’s not exactly normal, but he’s glad Will is starting to feel even a little bit of the pain Mike feels every time he sees him with Carlton.

The door barely finishes closing before Will turns on him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Will shouts, the words tearing out of his chest. He shoves Mike hard in the shoulder, and Mike stumbles back a step, catching himself against the wall. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even look surprised.

“You don’t get to do that,” Will continues, voice shaking, eyes bright with anger and something dangerously close to tears. He pushes him again, harder this time, palms flat against Mike’s chest. “You don’t get to humiliate him. You don’t get to decide who I can have in my life.”

Mike lets himself hit the wall. The impact knocks the air out of him, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t raise his hands. He just stands there and takes it, jaw clenched, eyes fixed somewhere over Will’s shoulder.

“I warned you he was coming over,” Will says, shoving him again, hands trembling now. “You said it was fine. You knew.”

“I know,” Mike says quietly.

That only makes Will angrier.

“You always do this,” Will says, voice breaking now. “You act like you’re the only one who ever mattered. Like I owe you everything because you stayed.”

Another shove. Mike barely reacts.

“I stayed because I wanted to,” Mike says. “Not because I wanted credit.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re punishing me?” Will demands.

Mike finally looks at him then. Will’s eyes are red, wet, ruined. “Because I would rather die than ever lose you.”

Will freezes. His hands drop.

And Mike stays exactly where he is, backed against the wall, letting the silence hit him like another blow.

“I can’t do this, Mike. Not with you… I just—I just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was in love with you, and you know it! You knew if you said any of these things to me 2 years ago, maybe even 2 months ago, I would have given you everything. Everything I had, even if I knew it would end up in my heart being broken and you leaving me to pick up the pieces,” Will blurts out, his breathing sounding uneven as if he had been holding it back forever.

Mike just stares at him. Will stares back.

The room is so silent you can hear a pin drop.

The first person to speak is Mike.

“Was?”

Will is taken aback by Mike’s clipped response. “What do you mean, “was?”

“You said ‘I was in love with you,’ as in the past tense. Meaning you don’t…love me anymore?”

More silence.

“Are you fucking serious, Mike?” Will says, in the calmest tone he can muster up.

No response.

“Are you genuinely fucking serious, Mike?” he repeats, this time with more edge in his tone. He looks at Mike for an answer and gets nothing again.

“I’m done. I’m over this. I don’t need this, or you, and your weird infatuation with me being in love with you. I am done.” Will starts to walk away when he feels a hand wrap around his forearm, forcefully pulling him back. He doesn’t fully register what’s happening until his back is against the wall and he is sandwiched in between it and Mike, who currently has his hands on both sides of the wall beside Will’s head. 

Will takes a second to catch his breath before he realizes Mike’s closeness, how tense his body is, and the smirk going across his face.

“No.” is all Mike says.

“What?” 

“No. You’re never going to be done with me, or done with us, and you’re damn sure not going to stop being in love with me, Will. Ever.”

“Are you drunk?” Will asks, honestly, but the shake in his voice gives away how hyperaware and nervous this makes him.

This is the first time Mike genuinely smiles. 

“No. I told you, I would rather die than lose you, which means you and me? We will never be done.” Mike spits out. “So don’t you dare act like we will.”

Everything goes silent. Will feels his entire body buzzing, and his head feels like it’s seconds away from exploding. If you told Will two months ago that he’d be in this situation with Mike Wheeler, he’d laugh in your face. He might even pinch himself now to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

Will’s eyes start to wander, looking anywhere but at Mike’s stupid, perfect face. He can live with the fact that he shares such close quarters with the boy he has been in love with since he knew what love was, but he can’t focus when that same boy is this close to his personal space.

He doesn’t look at Mike again until he feels a hand roughly grab his face and reposition it to look directly in front of him. At Mike.

“Look at me, Will,” Mike says in a clipped tone.

“I hate you.’ Will spits out, tears brimming in his eyes. Mike is still gripping his face.

Mike smiles and cocks his head to the side. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Prove it, then. Push me off.”

Will stills.

“What?”

“If you really hate me, then push me off.”

Will’s mouth closes, and Mike lets out a small chuckle.

“You can’t, can you? Because this is what you’ve always wanted,” Mike says, menacingly.

Will feels a tear fall down the side of his cheek.

“You’ve dreamt of me being this close to you, haven’t you? Me being in your space like this. I know you have.” Mike asks, but it’s rhetorical.

Will swallows before he finally finds his voice. “Fuck off, Mike.”

Mike grins again, which only makes Will more pissed off. “I know you’re still in love with me.”

Will hasn’t even realized how close Mike’s body has gotten to his. Their stomachs are damn near flush together, and you can’t tell where Mike ends and Will begins.

“I am not in love with you.” Will says, but by the sound of his voice, he doesn’t even believe it himself, so he knows for damn sure Mike doesn’t.

“That’s funny. I got a phone call earlier,” Mike admits. “It was for you, but I was…curious. It was from Max and Robin. Does ‘Operation: Get Over Wheeler’ perhaps ring a bell, Will?”

“And so what if it does?” Will says, finding a bit of confidence in his voice. 

Mike tightens the grip on Will’s face, bringing him even closer than he already was, which Will thought was impossible. All Will would have to do to kiss Mike is stand on his toes. 

Wait, what the fuck? He doesn’t want to kiss Mike. He has Carlton.

Carlton, who is sweet, pays for his things, talks to him after a hard day, or watches him paint. He is nothing like Mike, and that is someone Will needs. Not Mike Wheeler.

“You will never get over me,” Mike says in the most serious tone. He continues, as if he were reading Will’s mind. “I don’t give a fuck about Carlton, or Chance, or any other guy you think you might like in the future. It is not happening.”

Will is finally broken out of whatever trance Mike put him in, shaking himself out of Mike’s grip on his chin. Who the fuck does Mike think he is?

“Are you insane? You think you’re going to keep me away from every guy I ever meet, because of—what? You? The guy who told me the day I was kidnapped by monsters was the day his life started?”

Mike winces. That earlier confidence he had slowly fades away as he listens to Will’s words. He looks down at his feet, letting his hands drop to his sides as he remembers that day. He hadn’t meant to hurt Will; he just wanted to save El from whatever trance Vecna had her in. It was a stupid thing to say in front of Will, he’ll admit, but it wasn’t his intention to be a dick.

“Will, I–”

“Just forget it, Mike.” Will tries to walk away again, this time thinking Mike is finally going to let him go, let him breathe, until he feels an arm come around his shoulder, pulling him flush into a hard body. He feels Mike's mouth next to his ear and allows himself just a second to pretend this is real.

To pretend that Mike actually feels for him the way Will does. That Mike would actually drop everything, even die, if he ever lost Will, like he had said earlier.

He feels Mike lean down close to his ear and say, “You belong to me.”

This is what really pisses Will off.

Will’s eyes fly open, and he peels his body out of Mike’s grasp.

“Stop doing this, Mike! Just stop! You are the actual fucking worst. I can’t believe this. You are such a manipulative, lying, disgusting piece of shit!” Will feels all the tension in his stomach boil into pure, unbridled anger.

“What did I lie about, Will?” Mike asks, nonchalance coating his tone.

Is he fucking serious? Will thinks.

“All the ‘You belong to me’ and the ‘We’re never going to be over,’ or even the ‘I’d rather die than lose you,’ but it’s all bullshit. You’re just saying it because of your big fucking ego, and you can’t stand the thought of the little gay boy you grew up with finding someone other than you to trust. To hold. To love.”

Mike is left speechless, once again.

“That’s right, Mike. I want to find love. Growing up, you had El, Lucas had Max, and hell, even Dustin had Suzie. And I was happy for you guys; I really was. But I had no one. Ever. Now, I’m finally on my own, making friends, and getting a boyfriend, and you’re trying to make me go back to the kid who would have done anything for you. I can’t, Mike—I just can’t.” Will says, all in one breath, feeling like he finally got everything he’s been holding back for years off his chest.

Mike is still staring at Will, saying nothing.

“Are you gonna say anything or just stare at me like an idiot?” Will lets out.

A pause.

“Do you want to test that theory?”

Will is taken aback once again by the enigma that is Mike Wheeler.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Will asks, genuinely confused.

Mike steps closer to Will, making Will step back. Mike takes another step. Will steps back.

Another step. Step back. Another step. Step back.

Steps are the only sound that can be heard in the room until Will and Mike are right back where they started. With Will’s back flush against the wall and his senses filled by Mike Wheeler.

Mike puts his hands on both sides on the wall next to Will’s head like he did originally. Like they belong there.

“You said I was lying when I said ‘I’d rather die than lose you,’ didn’t you?” Mike asks.

Will swallows. “Yes.”

“And I asked, do you want to test that theory?”

“Did you even hear a word I said after that, or did you just not listen?”

“I’m sure it was cute and very sweet, and I’m glad you got whatever you needed to off your chest.” Mike says with a grin that makes Will want to slap him speechless. 

Did he actually not listen to anything I just said?

“You’re a shit person,” Will spits out.

“Maybe,” Mike admits, “but I’m still wondering whether or not you want to test the theory.”

“Mike—”

“Did I lose you?”

Will is silent.

“Did. I. Lose. You?” Mike asks again in a clipped tone, sounding very impatient.

Will doesn’t know what to say. He could say no because he knows that, truly, with everything he and Mike have been through, they could never lose each other. 

But if he says yes, well, he doesn’t know what Mike will do. And that makes something anxious and exciting pool up in the bottom of his belly. Something that feels like wanting.

“Will, I need you to answer me.”

More silence.

“...Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Mike.”

A beat. 

“You lost me. I hate you.”

Something sinister comes across Mike’s face as Will feels Mike’s warmth leave his vicinity. Will looks up at Mike’s eyes, which have gone from their soft brown color to something deep. Something dark.

Mike begins to stalk towards their bedroom, confident and lively. Like he didn’t just break Will. Like he didn’t just hurt him all over again. 

Will is taking in everything Mike said to him until he hears Mike’s voice from their shared room.

“Are you coming to watch the show or not?”

______________________________________________________________________________

Will doesn’t remember his legs taking him to the room. He doesn’t even remember why he still listens to everything Mike says. It’s natural at this point, which scares Will.

He sees Mike sitting on his bed, staring into the abyss. Unmoving. Determined.

“What the hell are you doing?” Will asks, not daring to come any closer. He can’t seem to control his own body when it comes to Mike.

Mike doesn’t answer.

He turns and walks toward the window.

Slow. On purpose. Like he wants Will to clock every step.

“You said I lost you,” Mike says quietly, stopping a few feet from the glass. “That I ruined it. That I don’t get you anymore.”

Will crosses his arms. “Because you did. And you don’t.”

Mike nods like that confirms something awful in his head. “So that’s it,” he says. “I mess up, and I’m just… done. Written off.”

“This isn’t about you being done,” Will snaps. “It’s about me being done.”

Mike puts a hand on the windowsill. Opens it. Not doing anything dramatic like putting a limb out, just close enough to make the point. A silent promise.

I am willing to die if you don’t love me.

Will’s breath stutters.

“You hate me,” Mike says. “You said it.”

“I meant it,” Will fires back. “And if you think this—whatever you think you’re doing—is going to make me take it back—”

“I’m not trying to make you take it back,” Mike cuts in, turning now. His eyes are frantic. “I’m trying to figure out how you can stand there and say you hate me and not care what that does to me.”

“That’s not my job anymore,” Will says. His voice wavers, just barely. “You don’t get to scare me because you can’t handle consequences.”

Mike takes one more step. Positions himself to sit on the open windowsill. Starts leaning out.

“You’re not gonna do it.”

“Do you love me?”

“No.” Will responds back quickly.

“Okay.” Mike leans out more.

Will still doesn’t budge. He knows Mike is bluffing.

He hopes Mike is bluffing.

“You’re wasting my time, Mike. If you’re going to jump, get it over with.”

Mike ignores how his heart cracks a little at Will’s words before he realizes Will doesn’t mean it. He’s angry and upset at Mike, rightfully so, but it still doesn’t stop the hint of pain Mike feels in his heart.

“I’m going to do it.”

“You won’t.”

“Say that you still love me and I won’t.”

“Then, we’ll both be liars now, won’t we?”

Mike smirks. He’s always loved when Will got sassy. Leans out the window even further. Takes one hand off the ledge.

Will’s mouth dries and his resolve finally cracks.

“Mike—stop,” he says sharply, moving forward and grabbing his arm. “Don’t do this. Don’t make yourself the threat so I won’t leave.”

Mike still doesn’t move. He sits on the ledge of his window, looking at Will’s glossy eyes, begging him to get down even if his words don’t match his face. It’s still not enough for Mike.

“Just say those three little words and I’ll get right down.”

“You can’t make me.”

“I can.”

“You can’t.”

“I can. And I will.”

Mike's grip on the ledge starts to loosen, solely depending on Will to keep him from lietrally falling to his death.

Once Will starts to feel Mike’s body weight getting heavier and heavier, that is when he realizes that Mike is serious. That this isn’t a game to him. And that all it would take for Mike to stay upright is the grip he has on him now.

“Say it or I go.”

Silence.

Mike grabs the arm Will has on him that is keeping him from falling. All he has to do is push Will's hand off of him, and well...

Splat.

“Say it, Will.”

“I love you!” Will blurts out.

“Like you mean it. Or you can say it to my flattened body at the bottom of this apartment complex, if that's what you'd prefer.”

“I love you! I’ve loved you ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved you since I met you at those stupid swings, and even if it was wrong, I loved you when I knew you were El’s. I have never stopped loving you,ikl and I don’t think I ever will.” Will says, all in one breath, praying that it was enough to suffice this psychopath who has replaced his best friend.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Will’s words hang in the air, raw and shaking, like they’ve been torn straight out of him. Mike just stares at him, eyes searching his face like he’s checking for cracks, for lies, for anything that would make this feel less real.

Then Mike exhales.

A slow breath. Controlled. Almost smug.

“Well,” he says lightly, like he hasn’t just scared the life out of both of them. “Was that so hard?”

He straightens, shifting his weight back inside, letting Will feel the tension drain from his grip before Mike finally steps down onto the floor. Solid. Safe. Completely fine.

Will’s hands are still shaking.

Mike smooths his shirt like nothing happened and tilts his head, a crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Next time,” he adds, “you could just say it without the dramatics. Would’ve saved us both a lot of time.”

Will looks at him like he might scream. Or cry. Or hit him.

He is going to hit him.

The slap reverberates across the room as if there is no other sound in the world. As if Will and Mike are stuck in a void where nothing else matters but this moment.

Will feels guilty.

Until Mike smiles.

“What is wrong with you?” Will is actually concerned this time. Well, he’s been concerned, but he just hurt Mike, and he didn’t exactly get the reaction he wanted. 

Another pause, this time long and grueling.

“Do you think you can do that again? Harder this time?” Mike asks ominously.

Will has died. Will has literally died, and this is hell. 

“So, you think you can ask me something like that and expect me to still be in love with you?”  Will asks. “Just to preface, I don’t fucking love you. I think you’re insane, and you need to be checked into a hospital, like right away.” 

Mike steps closer again, crowding Will’s space like he’s daring him to flinch.

“Okay, so you’re saying you don’t love me anymore,” Mike says, voice low, steady now. Dangerous. “That’s fine. Say it. Look at me and say it.”

“I just did.”

“Like you mean it.”

Will doesn’t move. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

Mike smiles, sharp. “You do if you want me to stop.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“Am I?” Mike asks softly. “Because you’re still here. You’re still standing exactly where I want you. A sane person would have run for the hills by now, so which one of us is really crazy, Will?”

Will clenches his jaw. “You don’t own me.”

“No,” Mike agrees. “But I know you. I know exactly how much you hate being the bad guy. I know you won’t walk away if you think I’ll fall apart without you.”

Will laughs, bitter. “You’re really proud of this, huh?”

“I am,” Mike snaps. “And you’re acting like that’s a crime.”

“You’re using it,” Will fires back. “You’re using me.”

Mike leans in until Will can feel his breath. “Because it works.”

That lands. Hard.

“You grew up needing me,” Mike continues, relentless. “I was the one who stayed. The one who didn’t look away. And now that you’ve got someone new, you think you get to rewrite that?”

“I didn’t ask you to stay,” Will says. His voice shakes despite himself.

“You didn’t have to,” Mike says. “You just existed. And I built my entire life around that.”

Will shoves him back. Finally. “That’s not fucking love, Mike. That’s obsession.”

Mike barely stumbles. He looks almost smug. “And you still haven’t left.”

Silence stretches between them, thick and awful.

Will hates that he knows Mike’s right, but he doesn’t dare to say it.

“You don’t get to rewrite my life like that,” he shouts, voice cracking wide open. “You don’t get to decide who I am just because you were there first. I am not yours to keep, Mike. I’m not some fucking thing you can guard and guilt and corner until I do what you want.”

Mike doesn’t say anything.

Will keeps going, spiraling now. “You talk about staying like it makes you a hero, but you never asked what it cost me. You never asked if I wanted to be needed like that. You just assumed I’d always be here, waiting for you to choose me back.”

“That’s not—” Mike starts.

“No,” Will cuts in, shoving him hard in the chest. “You don’t get to interrupt me. I am so tired of you acting like my whole existence is about orbiting you. I want my own life. I want my own—”

Mike grabs him.

Not rough. Not gentle either. Just enough to stop him from moving.

“Stop,” Will says, breath hitching. “Get your hands off me.”

Instead, Mike leans in and kisses him.

It’s not sweet. It’s not careful. It’s desperate and angry and meant to silence, to cut Will off mid-sentence like his words don’t matter as much as the feeling does.

Will freezes for half a second.

Then he kisses back, just as hard, teeth clashing, hands fisting in Mike’s shirt like he doesn’t know whether he wants to push him away or pull him closer. It’s messy and wrong and charged with everything they haven’t said.

Mike pulls back just enough to breathe. “You talk too much when you’re upset.”

Will stares at him, chest heaving. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re still here,” Mike says quietly.

Will scoffs, breath unsteady. “You say that like it’s a victory.”

Mike doesn’t answer. He kisses him again.

This one is slower, deeper, like he’s proving a point instead of silencing one. Will’s anger flares and he kisses back hard, mouths clashing, teeth scraping, all frustration and years of unsaid things pressed into the space between them. Mike’s hand slides to the back of Will’s neck, anchoring him there, thumb brushing skin like he’s afraid Will might disappear if he lets go.

Will makes a frustrated sound into the kiss, trying to pull back. Mike follows him, chasing his mouth, refusing to give him the space. His other hand settles at Will’s waist, firm, grounding, and possessive.

“Mike,” Will mutters, breathless.

Mike pulls back just enough to speak against his lips. “Don’t,” he murmurs. “You don’t get to yell at me like that and then act surprised when I remind you.”

“Remind me of what?” Will snaps.

Mike kisses him again, harder this time, teeth catching slightly, claiming. When he finally lets Will breathe, his forehead rests against his.

“That you’re mine,” Mike says quietly. “And no matter how mad you get, you keep coming back. You will always keep coming back to me”

Will’s hands curl in Mike’s shirt despite himself. “You don’t own me.”

Mike smiles against his mouth. “Then stop kissing me like I do.”

Will hates that he can’t.

Mike’s hand tightens at Will’s waist when he feels the hesitation.

“Don’t,” Mike says quietly, not pulling away. His thumb presses into Will’s side like punctuation. “Don’t start pretending you don’t want this now.”

Will’s breath catches. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Mike murmurs. He leans in again, brushing his mouth against Will’s cheek, his jaw, deliberately not kissing him yet. “You always do this thing where you fight me right up until the second you don’t.”

“That’s not—”

Mike finally kisses him again, slow and deliberate, like he’s setting terms. When Will tries to turn his head, Mike follows, keeps him there, his grip firm enough to make the point without hurting.

“You hate that I know you,” Mike says against his mouth. “You hate that I can tell when you’re about to give in.”

Will’s hands push weakly at Mike’s chest. “You’re crossing a line.”

Mike pulls back just enough to look at him. His eyes are steady. Certain. “You crossed it first when you said you hated me and stayed anyway.”

He kisses him again, deeper this time, and Will lets out a frustrated sound that sounds a lot like surrender. Mike smiles into it, satisfied, possessive in a way that makes Will’s stomach twist.

“You keep telling me I don’t own you,” Mike whispers when they break apart. “But every time I pull you in, you come.”

Will stares at him, breathing hard. “This is messed up.”

Mike doesn’t deny it. He just leans in close, forehead resting against Will’s. “Then stop letting me do it.”

Will pulls back just enough to look at him.

Not to leave. To watch.

“So,” Will says quietly, acting bored. “What happens if I don’t give you what you want?”

Mike doesn’t answer right away. His eyes flick over Will’s face, like he’s recalculating.

“I already told you,” Mike says. “You don’t have to.”

Will hums, unimpressed. He slips his hands out of Mike’s shirt and takes a slow step back. Not towards the door. Just far enough to feel the space open up.

“Okay,” Will says. “Then let’s see.”

Mike’s jaw tightens, tone clipped. “See what, Will?”

Will tilts his head. “See how much of this is just talk.”

He turns slightly, just enough to suggest distance without actually creating it. The move is careful. Intentional. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Mike follows immediately.

“Don’t do that,” Mike says.

“Why?” Will asks, calm. Curious. “You said I could walk away.”

“I said you could,” Mike replies. “Not that you should.”

Will smiles at that. Small. Satisfied. “So there is a line.”

Mike stops short in front of him. “You’re trying to get a reaction.”

“And you’re giving me one,” Will says softly.

He takes another step back. Still not leaving. Still watching.

“What would you do,” Will asks, “if I really pushed it? If I said I was done and meant it?”

Mike’s voice drops. “You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that,” Will says. “That’s the point.”

For a moment, Mike looks almost angry. Then something else settles in. Focused. Possessive in a quieter way.

“I’d stop you,” Mike says simply.

Will’s pulse jumps. “How?”

Mike steps in again, closing the gap like it was never there. “You actually don’t want to know,” he says. “Because if you did, you’d already be gone.”

Will laughs, sharp and disbelieving. “You keep saying that like it’s supposed to scare me.”

Mike doesn’t move.

Will steps even closer to Mike, invading his space this time, chin tipped up in challenge. “No,” he says. “You don’t get to hide behind that. You don’t get to say it and then stop.”

Mike’s jaw tightens. “Drop it.”

“Make me,” Will says softly. “Tell me how far you’d really go.”

Mike is still silent.

“Tell. Me.”

For a moment, Mike looks like he might shut down. Like he might lie. Will watches him, waits him out, knows him too well.

Finally, Mike exhales through his nose. “I’d burn everything and everyone that made you think leaving me was easier than staying.”

Will stills.

“I’d ruin you,” Mike continues, voice steady now, terrifying in its calm. “Not by hurting you. Never that. But I’d make sure you could never be fine without me. I’d make myself impossible to forget. I would etch myself so deeply into every corner of your life that you would see me even if I wasn’t there.”

Will swallows, trying to find his voice but falling short.

“That’s not an answer,” Will whispers, voice the most quiet it’s been all day. “That’s obsession.”

Mike meets his eyes. Doesn’t deny it. “You asked how far.”

Will’s pulse thrums. “And if I still walked?”

Mike steps in, close enough that Will feels boxed in again. “You wouldn’t,” he says. Not a threat. A certainty. “Because you don’t want freedom. You don’t want to lose me. You want to know you mattered enough that someone would break for you.”

Will’s breath catches. He hates how true that feels.

“So?” Will presses, voice low. “Is that it? You’d destroy yourself just to prove I mattered?”

Mike’s mouth curves, something dark and devoted all at once. “I already did,” he says. “You just didn’t notice.”

Silence crashes down between them.

Will doesn’t step back.

He should.

He doesn’t.

And Mike realizes that Will didn’t ask what he’d do if he left Mike because he was afraid of the answer or because he genuinely wanted to know.

He asked because he wanted to see it.

And that makes a smile grow wildly across Mike’s face.

“What are you smiling about?” Will asks, trying to coat his tone with disgust.

“I love you, Will Byers.”

Will raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, okay. You don’t love me, Mike. You’re obsessed with me.”

“So what? Obsession, addiction, love, potato-tomato. But the real question is, how are you thinking about explaining this to Carlton?” Mike responds casually.

“I hate you.” Will says, trying to suppress his smile.

Mike instantly notices, because how could he not? He knows Will better than anyone in the world, and he’d be damned if anyone else tried to take that from him.

Mike smiles. “Sure you do.”

Will grins back. “Shut up and just kiss me, you loser.”

And Mike does exactly that.