Chapter Text
Will was pressed against the warmth of Mike’s chest into a hug, melting into his arms and pushing him tighter. Only hearing soft murmurs and hums coming from the other, he felt like the voices had melted away.
He noticed that Mike’s curls would slightly itch the side of his neck and cheek as the taller boy dug his nose into the crevice in between Will’s shoulder and head.
Will could never forget the little touches their hands had on each others’ backs. It made his stomach sink with butterflies, so small, yet noticeable.
“I’m glad we can be alone, just us, for a bit,” Mike said after initiating the hug, breaking the millisecond of silence Will felt.
“Me too,” Will responded, closing his eyes and imagining how the words would escape his lips if he saw them.
They counted each deep inhale the other made, or how the intensity of the grip changed as they fell into each other, and how they pulled into a release.
“I missed you… so much. You don’t even know Will,” Mike lets go of the hug and places his hands on Will’s sides.
“Mike, I’ve never left,” Will smiles, only slightly confused. “I’m right here. I’ll always be here. We did it all together.”
“I know. It’s just, I’ve been so blinded by what you said.. and the whole end of the world situation,” Mike takes his hands off Will’s body, emoting with his hands with his cheeks actively blushing, “And I’m sorry if I ever made you confused. It’s not what I meant. I only want to be with you for now. For forever.”
Will was left speechless, a large grin on his flushed face and calm exterior. “I only want to be with you, too.”
“I’m just— so fucking happy you’re okay. Will, the goddamn sorcerer you are. You saved me, Hawkins, everybody. And I’m glad I even just.. got to be there. And seeing you, being the best version of yourself,” Mike spewed the words out like it was coming out of his mouth faster than in his head. “I couldn’t stop smiling. And I want to be the best version of myself, too. That can’t happen without you, Will.”
“You really feel that way?”
“Yes, of course I do. I want us to be together.”
“Crazy together, right?”
“Crazy together,” Mike fiddled with the hair behind Will’s ear and quickly closed the space in between them. The two boys’ noses pressed up against each other, the quiet whispers of each others’ name, and the frantic breathing acting as white noise.
Once again, there was a large pit forming in Will’s stomach as Mike leaned in for the brief, yet soft kiss. Both the boy's lips were slightly chapped, and Will tried to take in all of the ways Mike felt; the heat of his breath, the way he tasted, the rush of his hands in his hair…
–
And then Will woke up.
His palms were sweaty again, he lifted his body off of the bed and sat up, panting almost. He turned his head around to examine his surroundings, the same floral wallpaper he had seen for years, the same crack in the window from the landlord.
It was never real.
Will knows that there’s some underlying reason why every night, he has some outlandish fantasy about his, well, feelings.
But these memories—the stories—that was all done years ago, he thought. It had been, what, almost half a decade since they had saved Hawkins. Since losing El. Since… everything.
“No, not friends. Best friends,”
He has no reason to be falling back into this again.
Will understood that when he was a silly teenager, the late nights spent pining before bed, that these dreams were typically a figment of how much he cared for Mike. A typical part of his circadian rhythm.
But now he is a college sophomore. He’s about to turn twenty. He sees Mike every once in a while, the occasional party or get together, but mainly he hears from Mike over the phone. So why does he feel like a kid again?
Will’s dreams are now consumed by these idealistic fantasies of the past. They picture these twists of fate, where his love for Mike was reciprocated and the route life took was not the one he endlessly replayed in his mind, etched into his head. These were almost less fucked-up version of reality.
Sure, Will has had short-term boyfriends, hook-ups, flings, but fuck— he never dreamed about them. Not in the way he does Mike.
With them, he doesn’t picture a romantic confession scene in the rain where they have to make out for the sake of the universe, or even the realistic ones where Mike likes him enough to go on romantic dinner dates and cuddle watching Monty Python.
Those other guys? He could never conjure up anything beautiful with them, even in his sleep. Because they were right in front of him, physical. He could feel how they could never understand, Will could touch them and know whether they were right for him. And he knew that they never were.
And sure, Mike hasn’t dated anyone in years. Lucas and Dustin are constantly pestering him, trying to find girls that are slightly relatable to his interests (which is hard), but Mike always stands them up. If you asked, Mike would say he’s “waiting for the right person to come back to him”, if that means anything. Lucas and Dustin just think he’s an asshole.
Mike had wished that in some way or somehow, he could’ve just been given a happy ending. He still can’t talk about it – and not like anyone was willing to bring it up – so it’s easy just to push the grief all down. Be avoidant. Ignore how he’s different. Ignore how Will’s different.
So despite speaking over the phone so often, when Will and Mike meet up in Hawkins over break, they just… chat. They play games, watch shit TV, and drink with Lucas, Max, and Dustin. Mike liked the drunken campaigns the most, because everyone would be the most into the roleplay. It was almost normal again, or whatever normal could be now.
But, when Mike and Will are alone, even just for minutes in the Wheeler basement, they sit in a comfortable silence. It’s nothing like the hours-long calls they have, joking, laughing so loud Jonathan comes in the room to shut Will up.
So as Will throws his comforter to the side, staring blankly in front of him, he tries to remember how he first felt when these dreams started. Because, like those calls, they’re not physical.
“Jonathan, do you ever dream about Nancy?” Will was sat next to Jonathan in front of their cassette player, moments before putting a new tape in.
“Yeah. Why do you ask?” Jonathan turns over to Will, a raised eyebrow.
“What kind of dreams?”
“Well.. uh..”
Jonathan had told Will that it’s just his subconscious giving him a sign to take action on his unexpressed desires. He said, in plain English, that Will should act on them so he will not dwell or be deluded by them any longer. That in years’ time, he would regret not having done anything. He alluded to something similar with Nancy and admitted he would change things now, having been more mature and knowing more than he had known then. But, that’s because Will hadn’t told Jonathan he was dreaming about Mike.
And he was right, Will would regret not having done anything. In a months time, years, or even when they grow old. That thought was all too real, too hard, and too much. So, he tried to think about what Robin told him instead.
“Robin, do you ever dream about Vickie?”
“If by imagining we were making out every hour of the day before we were even dating, then, yes, I have,” She laughed, putting a hand on Will’s shoulders, “And I mean, those dreams came true, didn’t they?”
She later explained that these dreams mean that when you are constantly thinking about your person, your mind manifests how your future interactions with them are going to occur. She mentioned that your body’s natural reaction to your obsession is to have them appear in the form of your imagination. And because it is a sign from your physical being, the dreams you experience may be rooted in fact. Kind of like a predictor. Robin says she read it in an astrology book that she was gifted once, and is not sure if she fully believes it, either.
But, “I’m over it”, Will claims. “I don’t think about him like that anymore,” He lies.
Back to the drawing board. Will tries to break it down further.
Problem number one. Will keeps a letter from Mike in his nightstand drawer.
Okay, if Mike could keep Will’s painting in his room, Will could be attached and corny, too.
—-
The letter, dated September 2nd, 1989. College orientation week. It read:
Dear Will,
God, Hawkins is so boring. Not because scary shit isn’t happening anymore (though, it possibly is), it’s mostly because I think I’m losing my mind without you alone.
I know we are probably going to call later, but I feel like saying this stuff in a letter is more fun.
I hope super-pretentious art school is more interesting than me mindlessly typing for creative writing classes all day. Commuting is kind of tiring, especially when you have to lug an electric typewriter everywhere. I should invest more of my time in the school’s computer lab. Tuition’s gotta go somewhere.
Anyway, Holly keeps bringing up your art. She wants to ask you to make something for her campaign when you come back for Thanksgiving, maybe I could come up with a storyline for it. Storyteller and the artist! Though, I think that’s a crazy step down from the paladin and his trusty cleric (A.K.A. sorcerer).
How is the city? More specifically.. how is it with Jonathan? You have a built-in cool roommate. Have you tried out any fancy foods yet? I’m kind of jealous I’m not in NYC (if you couldn’t tell). Maybe when your mom and Hop move out, I’ll join as a housewarming gift. I think it would be fun.
Do you think I could convince my mom to let me transfer to Fordham? NYU? Even a SUNY? I swear, I would even let myself be an unpaid writer for Jon’s movies.
I just miss you a whole lot. But I’ll quit being sentimental… because it’s only been a bit and I am anxiously waiting for you to call me.
See you soon!
TTYL,
Mike!!
—
So, yeah, that’s an issue.
Will kept it because it was one of few letters he ever got from Mike, right before they realized that it was significantly easier to schedule calls than to ever write snail mail anymore. And, it didn’t help that it was so… sweet. Only something Mike could ever send him. It felt like a love letter. Not the one you’d find slipped in your locker, not a dumb poem trying to serenade you, just someone who cares a lot about you trying to keep in touch. And Will thinks that’s what makes it all special.
Problem number two was imminent.
The phone rang distantly as Will remained sat up in his bed, sighing as he slid his body off the side and stood. He messed with his hair, yawning, and slowly approached the door leading out to the living room.
“You look like you slept well,” Jonathan said, sitting on the couch with the TV on, snacking, “Can you get the phone?”
“Yeah, I’ll go get it,” Will hurried his sluggish pace to a brisk walk, anticipating the call.
“It’s been ringing for a while. Might be a telemarketer.”
Will put the yellow kitchen phone up to his ear, “Hello?”
“WILL! God, you finally answered. Happy early birthday,” A familiar voice spoke, making Will inhale deeply, taking the words out of his mouth for a brief second.
“Oh, uh, Mike,” Will replied sternly, “It’s not for another week, and you know that.”
“I know, but every day leading up is deserves an early birthday wish,” Mike smiled on the other end, smug, as if Will could even see.
“Not necessarily. You’re supposed to call at noon,” Will began to fiddle with his hair, leaning against the kitchen island, standing back up again, jittery. It was hard for him to stay in place.
“I can be unpredictable. What are you up to today?”
“Uhh, it’s another lazy Sunday,” Will walked the phone throughout the kitchen, opening and closing the fridge for something to eat, but ultimately grabbing nothing, “Jonathan and I are probably gonna go run some errands, maybe pack for Montauk?”
“Cool, cool. I just wanted to check in, since I’m probably gonna be getting ready for the trip today, too. What are you going to bring?”
Mike Wheeler was, in fact, coming to New York. Did he forget to mention that part?
Maybe the dreams were more self-explanatory than he thought.
“I mean, I feel like it’s obvious. Shirts, pants, clothes in general,” Will replies, almost snarky, glaring at Jonathan who is giving him a confused stare.
“Anything special, though? Are we going to go out for a fancy birthday dinner or something?”
“I don’t know. My mom and Hopper probably have something planned, they know the area better.”
“That’s true. You can tell me more about the city spots, though,” Mike paused, laughing slightly, “One more year and we can go to bars together. Well, legally.”
“Right.”
“So maybe on the fancy clothes?”
“Just bring one of those dumb polos you’ve been wearing. That’ll be fine.”
“They are not dumb. They are fashionable. But, I’ll add them to my list. I’m very excited, if you couldn’t tell.”
“I think you’re more excited than I am.”
“That’s because I’m long overdue for a trip. I don’t think I’ve been out of Indiana since I visited Lenora.”
“Oh.”
“Well, Will, I’ll call you later. I came back to the house for the weekend to get my luggage and shit packed. Then tomorrow, I’ll head back to Bloomington and.. probably call you again.”
“Okay. I’ll be right here.”
“I’m leaving at like 5 on Thursday, so make sure Jonathan picks me up from the airport, pretty please, Will?
“Yes, Mike, we’ll pick you up, don’t worry. I have it all under control for you. We have it all under control. I’ll explain the itinerary later.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll get back to you as soon as I’m at my dorm.”
“I won’t be going anywhere. I’ll talk to you later, alright?”
“Bye, Will.”
“Bye, Mike.”
Will placed the phone down and smiled, hanging up and fiddling with the cord with his pointer finger still.
“So how is he? Is he excited to see the beautiful sights of Long Island?” Jonathan was hovering over the kitchen island as well now.
“He really is. He’ll be really drawn in by the frozen port,” Will laughed.
“He’ll probably like it better when he’s here in the city for a bit,” Jonathan continued, “More his speed.”
“I think so too.”
Now, of course, any plan of Mike Wheeler coming full-time to NYC seemed absurd. He ended up moving on-campus, and began trying to indulge himself in college life a little more. Partying was never his thing, but he found his circles in small get-togethers and such. But, it was Spring Break and it was almost Will’s birthday. What better time to switch things up?
“Hey, Jon, Nancy still can’t come, right? For, friendly reasons?” Will added.
“She never mentioned why. I assume work, she’s pretty busy.”
“When was the last time you guys met up?” Will asked.
“Uhh, in Philly? I think about three months ago,” Jonathan sighed, “Right about when Robin was complaining about the girls she met at Smith. Nance said that she had moved to periodicals at the Globe.”
“That’s a lot of pressure.”
“I’m really proud of her. You should be proud of Mike, too, that he’s opened up enough to come on this trip alone.”
“Yeah. It’s a real accomplishment.”
Now, great, it would be really great if everybody could come.
Will had imagined his future twentieth birthday very differently. That’d he’d be mature, but still at home with himself, all his friends surrounding him and singing. Maybe a festive birthday cake, maybe a new D&D expansion case to play that night, and a nice family outing with Mom, Hopper, Jonathan, and Jane on a different day.
But when things changed and birthdays suddenly seemed to fade away, and god, Will couldn’t even remember the last time someone made a big deal about his, they became less and less important. So much so he would forget to bring it up himself just so that he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. But this year felt different, maybe it was all the changes, or that he was far far away from small town Indiana.
Montauk always had an off-putting vibe every time he stayed, not the same as Hawkins, but like something was generally off about the people. He never really felt that way about Lenora.
Hopper seemed to be having a good time as Chief, though, and Joyce had found a good group of friends at her new job. It had seemed like things had finally gone on a positive trajectory, that just maybe things were getting better. The town was beautiful in the summer, when the beach is warm, but in March it was no prettier than Jersey. Not exactly the welcome Mike needed to Will’s cool new life.
Will wishes he could hurt time. Not because he has to fight it, but because time splits people apart. Nothing prepares you for the shift of seeing the ones you love every day to once every holiday. Nothing prepares you for how your morning routine changes from riding a bike to school with your best friends to taking a subway alone.
And Will can’t hate time because it changes people – it lets him see people succeed. As he watches everyone skyrocket, he can’t recognize himself.
Dustin is busy studying away. He has a decathlon competition for his school’s Computer Engineering club, and he is planning on taking the team to Nationals as a means of revolution, so scratch any chance of him coming on the trip. Max and Lucas’ break at Purdue doesn’t align with Mike and Will’s, so they send their regards and plan to hang out again as soon as summer starts. On March 22nd, that leaves Mike Wheeler, Will’s entire family, and… that’s it.
This will not be miserable at all.