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Will isn’t entirely sure how he ended up here.
All he knows is that he isn’t entirely mad about it.
“You guys are losers, spin the damn thing!” Max complains loudly from beside him, gesturing wildly towards the empty bottle of shitty beer that teeters dangerously in the center of their small, very drunk group.
“But what if it lands on Dustin?” Lucas splutters, incredulous.
Max flashes her teeth. “Then you better pucker up!”
The group descends into chaos. Will watches as Max and Lucas point accusatory fingers at each other, Dustin desperately trying his best to defend his kissing abilities without sounding mildly offended. (Which he most definitely was.)
Amidst the uproar, Will feels a large, familiar hand caress his lower back. Gentle, comforting circles that allow his rigid frame to soften almost immediately.
“Everything alright?” Carlton’s voice follows, his lips leaning over to brush Will’s ear, granting them a rare ounce of privacy.
In all honesty? Everything was far from alright. What had started out as a couple harmless drinks in Mike’s dorm room had quickly turned into drunken madness. Will found himself fighting through several tedious rounds of truth or dare, dodging anything and everything that would incriminate him and his unresolved feelings for his childhood best friend - who had conveniently sat next to his actual boyfriend, Carlton.
Sweet, gentle Carlton who had been nothing but patient with Will. The two met that first semester; had sat behind one another in an excruciating art history lecture. Then, later at a gay club downtown where they proceeded to share an evening with very little talking and excessive amounts of grinding. More than anything, it had been a distraction. Something that made living down the hall from Mike a little less painful. Something that made the fact that Mike had been hooking up with various girls a little more bearable.
Instead, Will nods, swiping an assuring thumb across Carlton’s knee. “Yeah,” he lies, “I’m okay.”
“Mike should start,” Max interrupts, a cruel smirk pinching her lips.
“What? That’s unfair, it should be you!” Mike protests, ears red, “It was your idea!”
She observes him with a raised brow, interest piqued. “Defensive. I like it.”
“Lucas should start.”
“You’re just saying that cus you’re embarrassed!” Lucas retaliates.
“I’ll go if you want.”
Silence sweeps the group as all heads slowly turn towards Carlton who raises a sheepish hand, cheeks lightly flushed. Will can’t help but stifle laughter at how ridiculous they all look.
“I don’t mind. Really.” Carlton assures, his smile endearing. Will ignores the way Mike not-so-subtly narrows his eyes.
“Finally. A true gentleman,” Max declares, motioning with her hands in a dramatic sweeping gesture, “The floor is yours.”
Will hates himself. He pictures Carlton kissing someone else. Really tries and pictures it, hoping to stir feelings of jealousy, possession. Anything, really. He can’t help becoming swamped with guilt when he realises he feels a grand total of nothing.
He watches numbingly as Carlton reaches over and spins the empty beer bottle. The party leans forward in anticipation, all eyes fixated as the bottle starts to slow. One agonising whirl. Another stuttered pivot…until the bottle neck finally lands on Will. His shoulders sag in relief.
“What! Oh, come on, that’s not fair,” Dustin moans, throwing his hands up in the air, “He totally did that on purpose.”
“Literally, how would he have done that, Dustin?” Max points out.
“Just let the man kiss his boyfriend!” Lucas chimes in, “You’ll get your turn.”
Will laughs along with his friends, a little embarrassed to have the attention of the whole party. Especially Mike - not that he would ever admit aloud.
As he turns to face Carlton, the other is already there, eyes glinting, hands reaching out to cup Will’s face and draw him closer.
It’s a sweet kiss. Barely a kiss, if Will is being honest. More of a brief peck on the lips. Will found that most of their kisses had been like that. They lacked heat, excitement. Real passion. Will felt like he was missing out on something he was unable to put a finger on.
In all fairness, it’s not like he hadn’t tried to make things more exciting. He’d explored various angles, had attempted to ease Carlton into relaxing his mouth, his jaw, opening him up to the idea of tongue stuff. It was all useless. Will had succumbed to his hopeless fate and accepted the misery that came with it. But above everything else, he was fairly certain that kissing your boyfriend should not feel like…pecking a family member.
Will finds his chest alarmingly hollow as he pulls back, met by the whoops and cheers of his overly-enthusiastic friends. Carlton is a little flustered by the reaction, cheeks pink, awkwardly rubbing his nape. Will notices that Mike, very pointedly, is not clapping for them. In fact, he’s not doing much of anything at all. His big, brown eyes bore into Will’s, something in them unsettling. Will’s insides lurch unfavourably, alcohol churning.
Definitely alcohol.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough lovebirds!” Max says in an attempt to quiet the group, “Who’s next?”
“I’ll go!” Dustin jumps in, already leaning forwards to spin the bottle. “I promise you, you’ll all think twice before commenting on my kissing abilities.”
Lucas laughs, shaking his head. “That sounds like a threat.”
“It is.”
The group edge closer as the bottle lands on Lucas who wastes no time in jumping to his feet and yelling out in victory. Dustin immediately matches his energy, the two grabbing each other’s faces and lightly pecking on the lips before smashing into an overly brotherly hug. Will can’t help but wince every time they slap each other on the back.
“Boo!” Max calls out, “Underwhelming!”
“Again!” Mike joins in, to Will’s surprise.
A genuine toothy grin is strewn across Mike’s face as he laughs along with his friends, and just like that, Will is suppressing the urge to punch him. He clearly didn’t have a problem with Dustin and Lucas kissing. So what was his issue with Carlton? Will scowls, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes another swig from his drink.
“You’ve all seen enough!” Dustin announces as he slumps back down next to Mike.
Lucas leans over to Max and wiggles a suggestive brow. “Jealous?”
Rolling her eyes in disgust, she pushes his face away with her palm. “Hardly.”
There’s a brief pause before Max’s eyes land on Mike from across the circle, as if suddenly remembering his existence. She gestures to him with her half empty bottle of beer. “Mike,” she points out with a dangerous grin, “You’ve been quiet.”
His eyes widen in a sudden, defensive panic. “What? No I haven’t.”
“Yes, you have, Mike! You literally haven’t said a word all evening.” Lucas chimes in.
“I’m- observing!”
Dustin laughs. “Observing, my ass!”
“Spin it, Mike.” Max moves the bottle towards him, pinning him under her intense, fiery gaze.
Mike struggles to form words, his mouth opening and closing uselessly as he scrambles to find a good enough excuse to get out of this. Will enjoys watching him squirm.
“You scared?” he suddenly finds himself asking. Will earns himself looks from the entire party, this being the first time he had openly spoken since the game started. Even Carlton looks genuinely surprised.
Mike’s expression is unreadable. “No,” he murmurs after a brief pause.
“Then I don’t see an issue.” Will states, taking another long draw from his cup, eyes not leaving Mike’s for a second. He had known Mike since kindergarten, he could read him like a children’s picture book. Pinched shoulders, tight jaw - Will had more than succeeded in making Mike uncomfortable. And after the hellish back and forth he had succumbed to for years, Will would argue it felt deserved.
A wave of discomfort settles over the group as the two wordlessly shoot daggers at each other from across the circle. Even Max becomes lost for words as the quiet stretches on.
Eventually, Mike awkwardly clears his throat. “Fine.”
And to Will’s surprise (for the second time that evening), he leans forward decisively, twists his hand and spins the bottle. The group gathers eagerly, heads almost bumping as the bottle slugs to a stop.
Will’s heart drops when he realises the bottle neck claims him victim.
Unable to mask his panic, his head snaps up at his best friend who has, conveniently, turned a ferocious beet red. The party bursts into an obnoxious round of ‘ooohs’ as the realisation hits.
Mike has to kiss Will.
In front of Carlton.
“The bottle has spoken!” Dustin announces.
Will immediately retreats, sitting back up, his heart thundering against his rib cage. “I- I really don’t think-”
Lucas clamps a hand down onto Will’s knee from across the circle. “Too late to back out now, Will the Wise!”
“This game is stupid,” Mike comments, clearly just as flustered as Will. “We should play something else.”
“Oh, now that’s unfair, Mike,” Max points out, “The rules are the rules. Quit being an idiot and kiss him.”
If only it were that simple. Given everything that had happened back in Hawkins, the years Will had wasted pining, ashamed and backed into a corner - only for Mike to remind him of his deepest fears that day climbing the tower with the sky crumbling around them. Kissing him now in front of their friends would feel like a humiliation ritual. Especially after Will had worked so hard on getting over him. He’d finally moved on. Things were finally starting to look up. Carlton, New York, his studies.
Mike Wheeler had other plans.
What made it infinitely worse is that they would have to do this in front of Carlton. Sweet, innocent Carlton who sat between them both without saying a word.
Will leans over to him and drops his voice. “We can leave. We don’t have to-”
“You should do it,” Carlton says without skipping a beat, “It’s a game, Will.”
“But-”
“I’ll survive,” he smiles softly because of course he does, “It’s only one kiss.”
Only one kiss. He makes it sound so easy.
Mike shifts himself up onto his knees and finishes the rest of his beer, tossing his head back in one last drastic gesture before looking back at Will expectantly. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Will turns to Carlton one last time, and with a nod of confirmation, gets onto his knees and scoots across to Mike until their faces are mere inches apart.
“Oooh here it comes!” Lucas says, rubbing his hands together like an excited child. Him, Max and Dustin crowd round the pair with prying eyes, leaving little room for privacy. Will feels like a caged animal. He has nowhere to look but Mike. Nowhere to run. Carlton’s expectant gaze burns through the back of his skull as a grim reminder.
Will suddenly feels very shy, the alcohol he had consumed doing little to assist. “So, how do we-”
And before he can finish his sentence, Mike’s lips crash down onto his, his hands coming up to grab Will’s face and forcibly pull him closer. One thing Will notices almost straight away: this kiss isn’t like the other kisses he had witnessed amongst his friends. More importantly, this kiss was not like his and Carlton’s. This kiss is all teeth and hunger.
And embarrassingly: it was unfortunately just the way Will had imagined it would be from his teenage fantasies.
One second becomes two. Then three, then four, and Mike is still kissing him, and Will is still kissing him back. Their noses clash clumsily as they alternate angles, mouths opening experimentally, tongues merging in an eager, heated exchange. Will can distantly hear his friends cheering them on. But as time ticks on and the kiss continues, Mike’s shitty dorm room fades away. Will forgets about everything, forgets about Carlton.
Why would he need Carlton when Mike Wheeler was kissing him in a way that felt illegal?
It’s only when Will releases an accidental breathy sigh into Mike’s mouth that he snaps back to reality. Startled (and borderline embarrassed with himself), he falls back from his best friend, eyes blown, lips used and pink. Mike looks back at him just as bewildered, his freckled face flushed.
The dorm falls into a stunned silence.
A moment passes.
Then two.
“Now that is what you call a kiss.”
Max thankfully breaks the stillness with one of her manic grins and a steady, theatrical round of applause. Dustin and Lucas join her, the tension in the atmosphere slowly dissipating. A coy smile creases Mike’s features and Will feels like he can finally breathe again.
What the fuck just happened?
“I take back what I said about my kissing abilities,” Dustin claps Mike on the back, “Kelsey is a very lucky lady.”
“Holy shit man, that was nuts!” Lucas adds, hands on his head in disbelief, “I didn’t know you had it in you!”
Mike says nothing, and instead, finds himself smirking as he reaches for a fresh beer bottle. He meets Will’s gaze in a deliberate exchange as he presses his glistening, pink lips to the open top and Will feels himself redden. Suddenly, he’s thirteen years old again, stealing glances at his boy best friend and hating himself for it. He swallows the feeling, bites down on his tongue and forces himself to look away. Focuses on Carlton, instead. Focuses on his boyfriend.
His boyfriend who had turned concerningly quiet, just as Will feared. Posture stiff, Carlton gnaws at his bottom lip, eyes fixated on an uninteresting spot on Mike’s dirty bedroom floor. Will follows his line of sight and doubts a discoloured stray sock would have his boyfriend so deeply lost in thought.
“Carlton, are you-?”
“Fine,” he says without meeting Will’s gaze, “M’fine.”
Will’s rose-tinted glasses begin to slip, his stomach turning to lead with a dull, knowing feeling. What did he seriously think was going to happen anyway? That his boyfriend was going to be fine with him making out sloppy style with his childhood best friend in front of him? That he was going to turn to Will and say, ‘Wow babe, that was great! Do it again!’
Several conclusive claps from Max draw the party’s attention.
“Okay, tough act to follow but who’s next?” she questions, looking around at the group.
Will’s heart drops straight to the pit of his stomach as Carlton gets to his feet with an exasperated huff. He knew this was coming but it still didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Hey, thanks for having me but I think I’m gonna head,” he says with an air of finality and a tight-lipped smile.
Max looks between Carlton and Will, realisation dawning. “We could play something else?”
“Thanks Max, really. But I’m feeling beat.”
Will stands up a little too quickly. “I’ll come with you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
Will’s face flinches as if struck, his breath catching suddenly as he watches Carlton cross the circle and step out into the hallway. The silence he leaves behind sweeps the remaining party members, heavier than the one from the kiss.
Will wants to die. And evidently, so does everyone else. His friends go above and beyond in avoiding eye contact, Lucas reaching out to toy with the bottle, Mike busying himself with his beer, a crimson flush painting his neck.
Is it too late to follow Carlton? Should he follow Carlton? What would he even say? Apologising felt useless. Hey Carlton, sorry I enjoyed making out with my childhood best friend more than you. He feels weighed with guilt as he flicks through and analyses every possible scenario, each one ending in a teary breakup and with Will feeling like a terrible, irredeemable person.
Mike Wheeler had loaded a long forgotten gun and recklessly pulled the trigger and now Will was paying the price. That’s what pisses him off the most, he thinks. That Mike could easily forget about this and go back to Kelsey, leaving Will to suffer the consequences. Alone.
The idea makes him suppress an empty laugh. Some things never change.
“...Wanna put on a movie?” Max finally asks, hesitant.
It seems to work. Will is glad it does.
Desperate for an excuse to talk about literally anything else, the party jumps straight into an argument over what movie to put on. Dustin is very passionate about Back to the Future despite Max’s outspoken disapproval. Thankful for the distraction, Will makes a quiet move to the en-suite bathroom and shuts himself in with a careful click.
He shakily braces himself against the bathroom sink, his breathing unsteady, unable to look himself in the mirror. Everything comes crashing down all at once.
What had he just done? What was that? Was that Mike trying to set him up? Embarrass him in front of Carlton? He shakes his head to stop the tears from falling, the very thought making his chest contract. He felt used. He felt like an idiot for letting Mike’s stupid plan work. Even more so for enjoying it.
A soft knock at the door sends his heart stuttering.
“Will?”
It was Mike. Of course it was Mike.
“I’m coming in.”
Fuck.
Will hastily rubs at his eyes with his sleeve, hurriedly turning away from the door as Mike enters. He refuses to let the other see him like this. He would rather die than give him the satisfaction.
“I’m sorry about Carlton.”
‘No, you’re not.” Will says, voice thick with emotion.
“I don’t know what came over me back there. I’m not really…I mean, I don’t- I shouldn’t have-” he gives up, sighing.
“Spit it out, Mike.”
“I guess I got carried away.”
Will spins around to look at him. He laughs, disbelieving. Cruel. “You think?”
“You could have stopped me,” he says, defensively.
“You started it. I mean, why would you even kiss me like that? You don’t even like me in that way.”
Mike stares at him, all vulnerable and wide-eyed. For a split second, Will sees past all his sharp bones and jagged features and catches a glimpse of his thirteen year old self. Sees the boy who shamelessly wears his heart on his sleeve, loyal to a fault. The boy who would do anything for his best friend. The boy Will fell in love with all those years ago.
His heart lurches. He hates the part of himself that still wants to reach out and kiss him. Instead, he pushes down the urge. Remembers his anger. Circles back round.
“What, Mike? It’s true.”
“It’s not,” he blurts. “I mean, it’s not…untrue.”
A pause. Will blinks at him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I wanted to kiss you like that,” he murmurs, “I have done for a while. And seeing you with Carlton…it’s confusing.”
Will struggles to keep up with Mike’s revelations, his mind and heart frantically grappling to compute. What the fuck was happening? Was he drunk? Was that what this was?
“Confusing? Confusing, how, Mike? The only person you’re confusing is me.”
“I didn’t really understand it back then. When you came out to me, I mean. What I was feeling, I ignored it. Pushed it down and hoped it would go away like a total idiot. But it’s been years, Will,” his voice wobbles, eyes glassy, “Why hasn’t it gone away?”
Mike’s confession sends an icy tremor down Will’s spine. His vision blurs with unshed tears, his voice barely a whisper, scared that if he speaks too loud he’ll shatter everything. “Mike-”
“I hate seeing you with him, Will. Because-” he pauses, wetting his lip in careful thought, “Because I keep thinking it should be me.”
Will grips the sink with one hand, knuckles taut as he fights to keep the alcohol in his stomach. His world skitters sideways, everything he thought he knew collapsing and cascading before his very eyes.
“What about Kelsey?” Will breathes, unable to look Mike in the eye.
“A distraction. From you. From-” he gestures between the two of them, “This.”
“You’re so stupid,” Will laughs, “This is stupid. Carlton-”
Mike doesn’t let him finish his thought. Before Will can even attempt to say something remotely responsible, his best friend's lips smash greedily into his, teeth clattering on impact as they topple back against the bathroom wall. And just like that, Will forgets why he was mad at Mike in the first place. Especially with Mike’s fingers pulling at his hair, his mouth working overtime in swallowing Will’s strangled whimpers.
With everything he now knew about Mike, this kiss feels undoubtedly different to the last. It reeks of a feral desperation, years of repression and pent up feelings. It was everything Will craved and, above all, was a startling reminder of his inability to say no to Michael Wheeler.
As Mike leans down and begins to trail wet kisses along Will’s exposed neck, a loud fist beats against the door. The two leap apart.
“Hurry up, you’re gonna miss the start of the movie!” Max’s muffled voice calls out through the door.
Chest heaving, Will draws his attention back to Mike. More so, his lips. His very swollen lips. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” he promises.
Mike grins through heavy breaths. “Tomorrow.”