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The first rays of the sun are just peeking out from the horizon – painting the dark sky in a vibrant shade of light pinks and deep reds. It looks like the sky is on fire.
Will wishes he could paint it.
He leans against the railing, coffee mug held between his hands. The steam from the coffee drifts up in loose spirals – a wisp of white against the dark shadows of the terrace. He takes a sip and relishes in the small burst of warmth.
His watch reads 7:05 am in the morning. Mike must be out of bed by now, and Will should probably go back. He clutches his cup in one hand and feels the box in his pocket. His legs feel a little weak and he almost doesn’t turn around, but he has to.
There is something inherently different about living with Mike. It feels more peaceful – better. Will’s head is a lot quieter and he doesn’t have nightmares as often. It feels safe. Warm.
It feels like home.
A few years ago, he remembers he had told his mom that he would never fall in love. Now, he chuckles as he slips into their apartment. Look where he is now – sharing an apartment with his boyfriend of eleven months, freaking out about gifting him something for Valentine’s.
Their first Valentine’s together.
Will smiles softly as he sets his mug down on the kitchen counter and goes to wrap his arms around Mike who’s standing at the stove.
“Good morning!” he chirrups, and plants a kiss to his shoulder blade. Mike shivers under his touch and leans back just a fraction.
“Good morning, idiot. What have I said about leaving the house without having breakfast?”
Mike is trying very hard to be mad at him, Will knows. It’s just that for some reason, Mike can’t seem to hold on to his anger around Will.
He presses another kiss at the nape of Mike’s neck and grins at him. “That you’ll prepare breakfast for me, ‘cause I’m a very good boyfriend.”
Mike raises his eyebrows at him, and he’s trying to look very mean but the slight twitch at the corners of his lips is doing nothing for the overall effect.
“I’ll let you off the hook this time because I’m a very good boyfriend.”
Will sends him a sappy smile and moves away to hop onto the counter. He kicks his legs at Mike playfully as he attempts to get the eggs onto a plate.
“There you go.” he says finally, handing him the plate and a fork. He darts to the side to grab the syrup and pops the lid to carefully pour some onto the eggs. Will frowns at him.
“Aren’t you gonna eat, too?”
Mike looks surprised before he recovers quickly. “Oh! I- uh. I already had breakfast.”
Will narrows his eyes at him suspiciously. “You were still making breakfast when I walked in. When did you have yours?”
Mike looks away for a second before he looks back at Will. His dark eyes are not as bright, and come to think of it, Mike had seemed very subdued last night too.
Well, last night was a different kind of nightmare that Will didn’t ever want to relive again. Coming home to Mike shaking on the floor, sobbing into his hands was in one of Will’s Top 5 Worst Memories. The top position is, of course, taken by the day Dustin accidentally told the Party about the time when Mike jumped off the cliff at the quarry.
“Uh..” says Mike, fidgeting with the fraying threads of his sweater. “I woke up early. To clean up.”
Will raises an eyebrow at him, and Mike rushes to clarify. “The mess. From yesterday. I cleaned that up, and then I had some leftover waffles from yesterday.”
Will is not convinced, but his government-appointed therapist has been telling him to trust more freely and believe people, so he supposes he can give Mike a little leeway here.
He nods at him and proceeds to dig into his own breakfast. Mike grabs his empty coffee cup and puts it in the sink for later.
They chatter idly, trying to pass time until one of them has to leave for college. Throughout their conversation, Mike keeps fiddling nervously with the sleeve of his sweater, and he won’t hold eye-contact with him while they’re talking. He keeps trying to move away everytime Will links their hands together and there’s a sinking feeling in Will’s stomach.
Is something wrong? He wants to ask. Did something happen? Did I do something? Are you mad at me?
Finally, there’s a lull in the conversation as Will finishes his breakfast then hops off the counter to set his plate in the sink. Mike tries to intercept him in the middle, insisting that he could do the dishes, but Will refuses.
There’s only Will’s coffee mug in the sink, and he’s just about to ask Mike what plate he had used to have the leftover waffles, when Mike speaks up.
“Can you- I don’t know…it’s silly but- can you drive me to the therapist’s today? I don’t wanna go alone.” His voice is low and unsure. When Will looks back, Mike isn’t looking at him. His posture is too rigid and his eyes are rimmed red, there’s a slight downturn to his lips.
Will curses himself for not noticing sooner. “One of the bad days?” he asks, keeping his voice soft. As much as Will wants to gather his boyfriend into a tight hug right now, Mike needs a friend. He needs a safe space and someone who is not connected to him personally.
This had been one of their issues in the initial days of their relationship. Mike couldn’t express his internal thoughts openly and Will couldn't help but cling on to people far too much. They had both come a long way from there, but life wasn’t always rosy.
Mike nods at him, and rubs the back of his hand under his eyes. “I just-” his voice is strained, like he’s trying to hold it together. “I just need to talk to her, that’s it. Just- kind of- y’know…let it out..”
Will nods even though his own eyes sting with tears at his distress. For not the first time, he wishes Mike could open up to him.
“Hey, that’s okay. I’ll take you. Do you want me to wait outside for you?”
Mike sniffles again and shakes his head. “You’ve got classes.”
It’s Mike-talk for Please stay. Don’t leave.
“That’s okay. I’ve already missed half of the week, I don’t mind missing the rest of it if it’s for you.”
That’s Will’s way of saying I won’t ever leave when you need me. Promise.
“Okay.” Says Mike, and that’s that.
The drive to the therapist’s office is silent. Mike sits in the passenger seat and stares out of the window – uncharacteristically quiet. Will drives slowly, wracking his brain for a conversation starter.
It’s especially difficult now, because to them, conversation comes naturally. They don’t have to think about what they’re going to say or do.
But sometimes, when one of them has bad days like this, it feels like they’re suddenly walking on eggshells around each other. They have to think about everything they say or do to appease that irrational, skeptical part of the brain that just won’t stop microanalysing things.
The silence is unwelcome and strange. It feels weird sitting here, driving his boyfriend to someone else so he can talk through his feelings.
Will feels strangely inadequate.
The small box is still with him – tucked away in his jacket pocket, safe from prying eyes. He can feel the weight of it against his chest and the knowledge of what it contains, and what it will mean eventually sits heavy on him.
They come to a stop outside a nondescript grey building. It gives off the same vibes as a high-profile government agency.
If Will doesn’t concentrate hard enough, and talk himself out of it, it sometimes looks like Hawkins Lab.
Mike struggles with the seatbelt and Will notices his hands are shaking slightly. His face is a bit ashen and his eyes are slightly unfocused.
“Hey.” He says softly, reaching out to help Mike with the seatbelt. “It’s gonna be over soon, okay? I’m gonna be right here when you come back.”
Mike looks at him, and this time, he holds his gaze for two seconds before looking away. He gives him a minute nod and a tight smile, and then he dashes out of the car.
Will sighs as he watches Mike disappear behind the gates, and switches off the ignition. He rests his forehead against the steering wheel and begs his brain to just shut up.
A flashing neon sign grabs his attention and Will looks up to check it out.
It’s a takeout place.
Will checks his watch. Mike just went in, he probably has enough time to walk down there and get them both something. Maybe he could play it off as a casual lunch thing.
Maybe it’ll distract Mike enough to get him into a better mood.
Three hours.
It’s been three hours and Mike still hasn’t returned from the therapist’s. Will’s starting to get really worried right now. Sure, Mike’s sessions last longer sometimes, but to extend to a whole three hours is insane even for him.
Will is just about to get out of the car and march in there to see if he’s alright when the gates open and Mike steps out.
He looks better than he did when he went in – his posture is lighter, and he doesn’t seem as jumpy. When he slips into his seat, he sends Will a small reassuring smile.
“Sorry it took so long. We had a lot of work to cover.”
Will nods, turning on the ignition. “That’s okay, I didn’t mind waiting.”
The drive back is silent, but it’s better. The silence doesn’t feel loud or strange. It feels more comfortable – lived in. The quiet isn’t as suffocating and breathing seems a tad bit easier.
Will doesn’t try to start a conversation, and Mike doesn’t look out of the window. His hand rests against his thigh – palm facing upwards. Mike is looking straight ahead, but he keeps sneaking glances at him.
Will knows. Will can feel it.
Carefully, as they take a turn onto a quieter, traffic-free road, Will slips his hand into Mike’s and interlocks their fingers.
The effect is instantaneous. Any remaining tension bleeds out of Mike and he squeezes his hand tighter.
“Sorry I didn’t talk to you about it.”
Will turns to look at him, concerned. “Hey, that’s okay. You were having a bad day and you needed space-”
Mike shakes his head. “No. I should’ve communicated that to you instead of expecting you to just understand. Communication is the key to a healthy relationship. I need to tell you what’s affecting me even if it feels like I can’t.”
A hot spike of anger courses through his veins and Will clenches his jaw tight. “That’s bullshit Mike. You shouldn’t have to tell me things that you’re not ready to talk about. Yes, I understand that communication is the key or whatever, but in a relationship, it’s important that you feel comfortable about the thing that needs to be communicated.
It’s okay if you aren’t ready to tell me some things. I understand. Because that’s important too. Understanding your partner’s needs and what they can and can’t tell you.” Will pauses for breath and takes the time to check the side-view for approaching vehicles before pulling over.
“There are some things that you- we have gone through that you can’t talk about openly, and that’s your way of dealing with them. You told me early on that there were a few things regarding the whole thing with the Upside Down that you couldn’t tell me about yet, and I understand. That communication is healthy. It’s called setting boundaries and it’s totally okay. If ever in the future, you are ready to talk about it, I’ll be here for you. That is my job in supporting and respecting your boundaries.”
He gives his hand a tight squeeze. Mike looks at him with glassy eyes – there’s a tremble to his lower lip, and his breaths are coming out a bit shaky.
“Not being able to share some stuff or do something or be a certain way is called being a human, Mike. You’re being human.”
Mike sniffles and nods at him, giving him a small, reassured smile. “Yeah, okay. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”
Will nods. “But if you’re having problems, or you’re going through something that you feel you can’t tell anyone about, you can come to me.” Mike looks alarmed, and Will rushes to clarify. “You don’t have to tell me anything! Sometimes, even a hug or a few reassuring words can do wonders.”
“Are you-” Mike begins, then halts as if he’s considering something. “Are you speaking from experience?”
Will takes a moment to think it over and then he nods. Mike looks convinced and he gives Will’s hand another tight squeeze.
“Okay. I’ll come to you when I’m ready.”
Will gives him a gentle smile and a quick kiss.
There is a lot of work to be done between them, especially with Mike, but Will thinks they’ll manage. Mike’s going through a rough patch right now, but they’ll get through it.
They always do.
Mike inhales deeply and his brows furrow. “Wait. Did you get food?”
Oh. He almost forgot. “Yeah, I- I saw a takeout place down the road, and I’m already missing college this week, so I figured why not get takeout and, like, I don’t know, eat and um- watch movies, I guess?”
He’s feeling a little sheepish. After their conversation just now, having a lunch date sounds super weird. Mike looks surprised, but then he blushes and looks away – lips pulling up into a shy smile.
“Yeah- no. That’s okay. That’s very okay. Lunch and movies and y’know- just hanging out. It’s nice.”
Will lets out an embarrassed laugh. “You can say it, Mike. I’m being very sappy and ridiculous.”
Mike smiles at him, the spark of happiness returning to his eyes. “You’re sappy and ridiculous, yes. But I like it.”
“I really really like it.” He stresses. Will ducks his head to hide his grin.
They settle down on the couch with takeout in hand and not a single movie in mind. Mike starts an aimless conversation that turns into a debate about chickens which leads them to call Dustin to comment on their very intense opinions about chickens and eggs and what came first.
“When I agreed to become your friend, no one told me I would have to put up with this. Shut your traps and go to sleep. It’s midnight here and I’m trying to get some shuteye before my presentation.”
Silence.
“Also, the chicken totally came first. Just saying.”
Dustin cuts the call before Will can protest, but he doesn’t have much time to feel bad about it when Mike does a little victory dance around the room.
He’s laughing and spinning around, takeout box still in his hand – shouting ‘I was right!’. He looks gorgeous and Will can’t stop himself in time.
“I got you something else, too.”
Mike stops in his celebration and peers at him in mock suspicion. “And what would that be?”
Will’s hands are shaking slightly, but he retrieves the square box from the jacket pocket. Mike brightens up almost instantly.
“Oh!” He exclaims, “You got me a gift. You got me a gift because you like me!”
Will gives him a fond laugh. “You figured out the big secret, genius. I really really like you.”
“In fact,” he says, trying to swallow his nerves, “I love you.”
Mike sobers up almost instantly, sensing the seriousness of the situation. “Oh, hey. I love you too. What’s this about?”
Will hands him the box and watches with growing anticipation as Mike opens it carefully. He’s always been like this – always careful with his gifts, never ripping them open. He would always open them with so much care and eagerness.
Mike sets the wrapping aside and inspects the small wooden box. He looks at Will once as if to confirm that he wants him to open it. Will gives him a tiny nod and a reassuring smile even though his insides are on fire and he feels like he could go into a cardiac arrest literally any minute.
Oh, god. What is supposed to do if Mike doesn’t like it? Or if he thinks it’s too basic, or weird? What if he doesn’t want to wear it at all, or what if he’s not ready for this kind of a commitment? What if-?
His thoughts are cut off by Mike’s small gasp of surprise. He holds up the twin bracelets to the light – eyes shining. His smile is wide and absolutely mesmerized and- okay. This is going really well.
Will moves forward to stand beside him, and gently turns the bracelet to the side so Mike can see the engraving on the inside of the metal.
Swings. 1976. And on the other side, Crazy together.
For a few suspended seconds, there is silence. It’s broken by Mike pushing Will onto the couch and straddling him as he pressed his lips to Will’s.
“Swings, you know?” Will says against his lips, unable to help himself. “1976. When we first met by the swings.”
Mike deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over Will’s bottom lip – making him gasp.
“And-” Will says, trying to speak against the blissful touch of Mike’s lips to his. “Crazy together, remember? Our first-”
Mike pulls back to look at him – hands grasping the side of his face, fingers trembling with unspoken words. “Swings. 1976. Crazy together. Yes, Will, I remember. But if you don’t shut up right now and let me kiss you senseless, I might actually go crazy for real.”
Will laughs softly. “Did you like the gift, at least?”
Mike’s only response is to capture his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. Never let it be said that Mike Wheeler did not show his gratitude.
And later, when they’re both lying in bed, entwined with each other, Will knows, without a shade of doubt, that they’ll be okay. They’ll get through this.
They always do.