Chapter Text
“It’s just… sometimes I feel so… alone”
Mike opens his eyes, fixing them on Will. He’s sprawled on the couch, opposite to him, but they still found a way to each other. Mike knows it was an accident. He knows Will just wants to be comfortable. He knows he should ignore it.
But he can’t.
He can’t ignore the way Will's feet lay in his lap. He tries to ignore the way he can feel every breath, every shift like a gunshot to his hyper-aware senses.
He stays quiet, willing Will to continue. It had been a normal afternoon. Will, Dustin, Lucas, Max, and El all came over. They had played some D&D, laughed so hard Mike could feel abs growing in, and Will had stayed. Like always.
The conversation always shifts a little after everyone leaves. It gets deeper, more personal. The air stills. Mike feels like he can finally breathe, let down his walls. Then he sees Will and somehow it gets all the worse and better at the same time.
Tonight was different, though.
Tonight was the first time they had broached the topic of Will's sexuality since he came out. It had been months; months of them toeing around the topic. Why would they need to talk about it anyway?
But Mike tipped over the line, like he always does with Will. He always speaks before he thinks, his words unfiltered, disgusting, intrusive thoughts.
“I mean, where am I supposed to.. You know, get experience. This is Hawkins.” Will laughs, it’s a humorless and empty sound, one that flares Mike's protectiveness; his need to make Will feel better.
It’s become a problem; this flare. He needs Will to be okay. Partly because Mike is not.
Mostly because he’s in love with him.
“I’m sure there is someone here.” He says the words, not meaning them to sound bitter, but the edge to them is unmistakable.
Will shifts, pulling his legs closer to him, subtly enough to be an accident. Purposeful enough to be a method of defense. Mike looks at Will again, missing his warmth. Will continues staring at the same spot on the ceiling, the darkness voiding him of all color. In the cold basement, he shivers.
Mike closes his hands into fists on his lap.
There is a bit of a defensive edge to Will's voice, a cautious, practiced tone, “I don’t think I’m interested in seeing someone right now, anyway.”
Mike tries not to let his words kill him, but his stomach twists anyway. Once again, his mouth is ahead of his mind, “What about Carlton?” He blurts out.
This time, Will's eyes flick to him, brows furrowing. “What about him?”
Mike tugs on a strand of hair, looking away now that Wills is looking at him. “Aren't you guys like… Together?”
Mike holds his breath for no particular reason. He is not jealous. He doesn't need to be. Will releases a breath, a ghost of a laugh. “No.” He says, unconsciously mimicking Mike's nervous tick, pulling on a strand of his own hair.
“Oh,” Mike says, stupidly, more of a sound than a word. Then continues, registering the sad tone of Will's voice. “Well, he’s stupid then.”
“No, he’s not.” Will exhales, dropping his hands to his sides. After a pause, he continues, “I’m just too nervous around him. I don’t think I’m his type.”
His voice changed, almost like he was talking about something else entirely. Wishful, a bit shameful. Something else. Guarded.
Mike wrinkles his brows. He looks over at Will, his eyes shamefully scraping down his figure. Will watches him.
Mike scoffs, after a pause, realizing he has to respond. The words fall out, “That can’t be true.”
Will sits up a little on his side of the couch, so he can look at Mike more easily. His back leans against the armrest.
His gaze burns a hole through Mike's cheek. “What?”
Mike breaks and meets Will's eyes, suddenly so utterly angry. How could he sound so confused? How could anyone possibly not like Will? Not think Will was the most amazing, kind, fucking perfect person in the world. “I mean. Who wouldn't be attracted to you?” The words tumble out before he thinks of what he’s saying, “You’re like, hot, or whatever.”
He realizes what he has said when he sees Will's face flush, even in the dark of the basement.
“Objectively.” He adds. His own cheeks flushed pink.
“Objectively.” Will echoes, retreating again on the couch. “Thanks? I guess.”
Mike nods tightly, not trusting his mouth to speak for him.
Minutes of silence pass, neither of them talking. The hum of the air conditioning keeps Mike grounded, keeps his thoughts constricted.
Keeps them away from Will.
He doesn't let himself think about Will anymore. Will would never be able to look him in the eye if he knew what kind of twist, dark thoughts he was having. About him.
He would get up, and run straight out the door if he knew what Mike was thinking. Mike tried so hard to stop thinking about him like that. To stop staring at his lips when he was talking, or to stop making stupid excuses to touch him. But he couldn't. It was a selfish, ugly desire.
Mike had fought it for so long. Just told himself everyone thinks their best friend is the most amazing person they’ve ever met. So much so they want to back them against a door and show them.
But Mike doesn't have these thoughts about Dustin. Or Lucas. He’s never woken up at night, body slick with sweat after yet another dream of them. Not even once has he gone out of his way to touch them.
And because Mike needs these things to stop–He needs these feelings to go away– he breaks the silence. “I think you should go for Carlton. I think he’ll like you.”
The lie tastes rotten on his tongue, the bitter tinge palpable in his tone. But Will doesn't notice. He just slightly tenses. “Yeah?”
Mike nods stiffly, even though he doesn't know if Will is looking at him. “Why don’t you?” he questions, then, barely audible, adds. “You deserve to be happy.”
Will exhales quietly, “I just don’t like him like that.”
Mike curses the sense of relief that washes through his stomach. But Mike is also confused. Will said he had liked someone a few nights ago. Not to him, obviously. But to El.
The memory unfolds–unwillingly– in his head. He really shouldn’t have been listening–he was supposed to be getting drinks– but he forgot what flavor El wanted, so he went back. He was just about to reopen the door when he heard Els' voice– just a little too loud– “He literally likes you back–” She was saying, before Will cut her off.
“Shhh!” He exclaimed, then added after a pause, “And he doesn't."
Mike could tell through the door that he was sad. He heard the tone in his voice. He had heard it so many times before. And he knew he had to fix it. Because he was pathetically in love.
“You should see the way he looks at you, I mean, just earlier-”
Mike slammed open the door, a bit too loudly. Both El and Will whipped their heads towards Mike, and Mike saw how Will's face had gone pale.
“I forgot what drink you wanted, El,” Mike muttered.
But that was days ago– surely his crush couldn't have gone away that fast.
Maybe it’s someone else.
Mike's memory came back to the present, the question sizzling on his tongue. “But you like someone, right?” Mike said– a bit too loud for the little space between them.
Will shifted on the couch, “Why are we talking about this?”
Mike felt a pinch in his chest. “So you do?”
Will cleared his throat. “I mean— yeah. But it's not a big deal.”
Mike felt more anger pour into his senses– how was it not a big deal? It was eating him alive. The possibility of Will liking someone. Of loving them. Of feeling towards someone else, how Mike felt about him.
“It is!” Mike exclaimed.
“Just drop it, Mike,” Will said, resigned.
“No! Just tell me who it is.” Mike said, barely succeeding in keeping the desperation out of his voice. “We’re best friends. We’re supposed to tell each other everything.”
Mike's words were ironic, considering what he has been keeping from Will.
Will's voice softened. “I can’t tell you who it is. I’m sorry, Mike.”
Mike set his arm to his side, unable to keep his hands clasped together any longer. Resigned, he sighed. “Will you at least tell me about him?”
Will's gaze fit to Mike, and they kept eye contact. After a few seconds of internal debate, Will nodded. He could never seem to really say no to Mike.
“He’s amazing.” Mike squeezes at the tone of Will's voice, but he stays silent while he talks, “He’s sweet–even though he doesn't want people to notice– he always puts me over himself, he’s just–. I don’t even know how to describe it.” Will chuckles a little, his eyes unfocused.
Mike sensed he had pushed too far– asked for too much. Selfishly, he was glad Will hadn't kept talking. He didn't know if he could take it anymore. It physically killed him to hear Will talking about another guy like that. He wanted Will to talk about him like that.
“You should ask him out.”
Will chuckles. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because.” Will starts, clearly trying to find an excuse. “I just can’t. I don’t want to ruin what we already have.”
What do they already have? Was it Dustin? Or Lucas? Mike felt the carefully contained anger pop out of him, each word full of shame for feeling so jealous, “Is it Lucas?”
“What? No.” Will says, his voice astonished that he would even ask that.
“Dustin?”
“Mike– No!” Will exclaimed, “I’m not telling you.”
Why?! Mike wanted to ask, but bit his tongue. He just turned on the couch to no longer face Will. Instead, he faced the plain wall, seemingly taunting him.
He doesn't like you , It said
And he never will.