Chapter Text
“Quick! A sound- across the forest- approaching the remainder of the party-”
“Did I die?”
“Yes, Dustin, you died.”
“Ssh!”
“-Somewhere in the trees, a beast begins to emerge. It has two heads, two tails, and one, terrible, muscled body…” A dramatic pause. “The Demogorgon!”
Soft, green eyes meet Mike's across their circle, and Mike's unable to look away as he slams the thimble they've deemed ‘the Demogorgon’ onto their gameboard. For a moment, Mike doesn't even register Dustin's gasp, until he springs back into action.
“It growls! This isn't a matter for the Ranger's slingshot- Will! What will you do?”
Nervous, Will fidgets under Mike's sharp gaze. He rumples his character sheet- information about the part he plays in the game- between his hands. “I- I don't know.”
Lucas reaches across to shake Will's shoulder. “Cast protection!”
From his other side- “No, fireball!”
Both Dustin and Lucas bicker for a moment. Mike's eyes don't leave Will where he shifts, his robes pooled on the floor around his knees. At age 9, Mike is smart enough to understand that looks like this with Will aren't acceptable. Technically, he shouldn't be with any of them. The village demands that children are separated by class and skill until the age of eighteen when they're free to make their own choices, and none of them are of the same class. Lucas, the Ranger, learns in school how to read maps and create weapons. Will, the Cleric, studies spellwork and the craft of feeling your magic, controlling it. Dustin, the Bard, develops communication and general knowledge for his wit. Mike's is- in his opinion- the most boring. Fighting, all day every day.
The most embarrassing part is that he's not even that great. There are plenty of other Paladins who are better than him, who show him up easily, but they respect him for his name. For what he should be, instead of what he is.
Mike comes from a wealthy family. His house is large compared to Will's and even Lucas', and he lives basically on the royals’ doorstep. Every so often, if Mike's lucky, he's able to catch glimpses of the princess where she swings in her yard through the holes in the fence. Not a blood princess- they found her in the woods, head shaven, and the King took her in as his own- but she's treated the same. The King is a nice man. As far as Kings go, anyway.
Mike's never met the royals professionally. King Hopper, or so he's called by people who know him better than Mike does, rules over the entirety of their village until the boundaries of the forest and the coast. Lady Jane is beautiful. There's a lot of hope when it comes to her rule over the throne.
Still, none of the four of them are interested in the royals or their class the way most children their age are. Their interest lies somewhere common yet rare, in games, in playing like kids would if they didn't have a class. Whatever that would be like.
Their current game is simple. Mike is the appointed storyteller, and in his head during the day he'll come up with remarkable stories of what the ‘Party’ (devised of the four of them) would do if they were the main warriors of the kingdom. No day is dull when there are Demogorgons to fight, or a mystery monster, or a rival village. They don't have much for it; a simple piece of cardboard makes for their game spread, and Mike stole some dice for his older sister which they roll for damage. Random objects play as their characters and the evils.
“The Demogorgon stamps closer! It groans, and prepares to slam the Ranger’s head into its almighty jaws-”
Will relents quickly, eyes wide as he listens to Mike's development. They’ve already lost Dustin in the fight against Vecna, they can't lose Lucas too. “Okay, okay! I cast fireball!”
Both dice are flung across the board, and Mike scrambles to move out of the way as one grazes past his boot. Will's eyes flick white for a moment with the intensity of his emotions. Still, he hasn't quite learnt to control his powers.
“What does it say?” Dustin leans forward on his hands eagerly, trying to push past Mike's other foot to see the numbers on the dice.
“I don't know! Where did it go?”
“Lucas, move your arm!”
The four of them scramble for a moment, pushing each other and, in their haste, moving the gameboard across the dirt. Someone leans on Mike's ankle with a bony elbow and he yelps.
Finally, Lucas holds up one dice between his forefinger and thumb. “Six!” He announces. The scuffle continues to find the remaining dice.
The rules say that anything below a six is a fail and you lose points instead of gaining, six to ten is gain five points, and ten to twelve is a critical hit. Instant death for the enemy. Gain ten points and victory.
Mike fumbles beneath his thigh where something is pressing uncomfortably, and finds the dice, landed on a five. “Five!”
Dustin cheers and does that thing he does where he sticks both arms up in the air, and Lucas whoops. Mike leans across their circle to kiss Will firmly on the cheek. It's the last time he does that for a while, but not forever.
………………
Soulbinding was a myth in their village until Mike and Will. It was one of those things that you tell your children to get them to believe in love and have hope for the future- that one day, you'll meet a Soulmate so perfect for you that you're not only together in this life, but in every possible universe. Soulmates are innate, so the myth says. There from birth. They're only awakened with marriage, with the intimate act of signing your life away to spend with someone else.
Mike and Will danced around each other as ‘best friends’ until age sixteen, when they first kissed properly in a forest before Mike went to fight for the first time. Keeping it a secret was difficult. Will's dad disagreed with him being partnered up so young, and he was mean anyway, and Mike didn't want to provoke it. They hid for two long years until Will's dad was exiled from the village for cheating on Will's mom.
Marriage has always been something sacred. Weddings are held on royal ground if you're respected and you go about it correctly, and they're often followed by large parties and celebrations that can go on for days. Loyalty is valued higher than most other virtues. That's part of the reason why Mike signed his Oath of Devotion to Will when they were eighteen- swearing never to lay with another, never to value another in respect and love higher than he does Will.
Mike was nineteen and freshly knighted into the royal Paladins as the youngest there when he proposed to Will. Full of courage for the first time. Will, of course, said yes, and their wedding was perfect. Even without the celebration, Will is everything Mike's ever wanted.
Most of the villagers were there for the wedding. Of course they were; who wouldn't want to see one of their most loved Paladins get married? Mike had protected the village time and time again, and now he got to lay down his arms for a day or two.
They were monumental. No one was expecting anything more than what they had for Lucas and Max's wedding, or any previous ones, but when they signed the marriage papers, both Mike and Will were overtaken with purple light that was unlike anything Mike had ever seen before. Soulbinding, the King had told them afterwards, is the process where your souls become so entwined that you're destined in every universe, every timeline, every day. Every single Mike and Will would end up together in some way. A myth, until them.
Naturally, both of them were fascinated.
They became a legacy for the village- living proof that the myth they'd built their loyal society off of was real- and both of them decided to lay down arms for a year to focus on each other. Learn more about Soulbinding. About what they could do with it. How perfect do you have to be for each other that you become permanently intertwined forever?
Mike can feel Will. Everything Will feels, Mike feels in some dulled down version, no matter how far apart they are. He feels this sort of magnetic pull towards him that only ceases when they're in the same room. In more ways than one, they truly are bound for life.
And that's something Mike certainly won't complain about. Tucked away in their tower, now age twenty-three, Will is no less beautiful than he ever was. He's slightly broader than before, though not by much, and Mike likes him exactly the way he is. He's had time to memorise every single one of Will's moles by now, and he knows them like the back of his hand.
Even Mike remains the same- apart from the hair that he's grown out to just reach his shoulders. Just enough for Will to hold onto. There are a few more scars on him than before, and he’s grown into his face, but the only real difference is that they aren't young and dumb anymore. Mike trains every day for fighting, and he has his own small battalion of ten Paladins, age nineteen, to show the way. Will's learning complex spells for battle, now with full control of his powers.
Well, not full control.
“I can't do it!” Will complains, letting his hand fall down into his lap, white eyes sliding back into familiar green. Not that Mike can see, from where he's kneeling behind him with his face pressed to his partner's nape. “It's no use. I suppose this is the one spell I can't cast.”
Teleportation, even simply, is complex. It's not a matter of creating a portal with a Cleric's magic- Will has to shift the apple between time and space to make it materialise somewhere else. The very concept of it blows Mike's mind. Still, if there's one person he has faith in, it's Will.
“I wouldn't say that.” Mike's hand trails round to Will's chest, holding him closer. Closer, always. Never close enough.
Will sighs, helpless. He's always doubted himself, though Mike can't understand why. “It's not crucial to understand.”
Downplaying himself again. Mike's eyes narrow as he inhales Will's scent, nose touching the fine hairs at the base of his man's neck. It makes Will shiver like it always does. “But you want to understand it, no?” Mike challenges.
“I suppose…”
“Then you will.” Mike presses another soft kiss to the back of Will's neck, and then by his shoulder. Just having returned home from training, Mike's still in full armour (minus his helmet) but Will's dressed softer, with his long sleeved sleep shirt and some loose trousers. “Try it on me.”
Will turns and shakes his head slightly, confused. “What?”
“You can try on me, if you'd like. You feel more strongly about me than a useless apple. Perhaps the feeling will help you channel it.” Mike stands in front of Will, pushing the table he's set up away so the apple topples onto the floor. Will makes an indignant sound. “At least, I'd hope you feel more for me than you do for an apple.”
Amused, Will reaches forward to take Mike's hips, pulling him closer so he's forced to step between Will's knees. Of course, Mike could pull away if he wanted. He's obedient, always is with Will, and he gives in easily as his hands come up to cup his partner's face in his calloused palms. The skin is soft against him, like always.
“You should take this stupid thing off.” Will comments, flicking Mike's armor with one finger. It clangs.
Mike practically pouts. “I thought you had an approval for me in my armor.”
“I have an approval for you in anything. Besides, have you not been wearing this all day?”
“I'd wear it for ten more if it meant pleasing you.”
Will's cheeks immediately turn red as he flushes- though Mike doesn't know why he hasn't gotten used to this yet. Not a day goes by when Mike doesn't make some sort of comment towards Will in this way, something affectionate or overly cheesy. Still, every time, he gets unreasonably flustered.
It doesn't last today. Will reaches up with one hand to cup the back of Mike's head, pulling him down so their lips collide. For the first time that day, the invisible magnets pulling them together give in and relent. The kiss is tender, a press of mouths instead of a fight for dominance, and Mike bends his neck uncomfortably to make it easier for Will. Kissing with them is something gentle. Mike never quite has it in him to be too rough with Will, not even when it's explicitly asked of him. Even though he wants to, Mike doesn't deepen it. He's not sure he could handle something rough and fast today. Besides, he really does want to help Will with his spell.
“Okay, okay, enough.” Mike says as he pulls away, though his hand lingers on Will's jaw like he doesn't want to let go. Like this moment is just a little too precious. “Practice.”
Almost nervous, Will fidgets on the bed, squeezing his palms together. “I wouldn't want to hurt you.”
“Why would you? You've never hurt me before with a spell.” Mike challenges with a frown. He thinks about kissing Will again just to shut up his nerves.
“Perhaps. But this one is new… I don't fully understand the effects myself.”
Mike crouches, kneeling respectfully by Will's legs. They've had countless conversations about this where Will has told him that he doesn't need to kneel every time they reunite, but it's out of respect. A show of his love. For Paladins, kneeling is the most respect you can possibly show. If anyone deserves that, it's Will.
This isn't about that, though; this is about being on his level. The angle gives Mike space to look up at Will instead of looking down on him, and he takes Will's hands and rubs his thumb over the back of his partner's knuckles. Their matching rings (Will's a gold band with a blue stone, Mike's a silver band with a yellow stone, reflecting each other's favourite colors) shine in the low light of the sun setting outside their window. Neither of them have taken them off since their wedding day.
“You won't hurt me. You couldn't hurt me.” Mike says. “Please, try. I'd like to help.”
With a small smile, Will tugs at Mike's bicep to encourage him to stand. “If you insist. Stand there.”
It doesn't take much to get Mike to obey. He stands with a bit of excitement, ready to praise Will when he gets it right, and watches with fascination as Will's beautiful green eyes scan across the pages by his thigh once more. Making sure he understands thoroughly, when Mike's the one he's experimenting on. They care for each other differently, but the deepness of it is the same.
Will extends one hand, palm up to the ceiling like he always does, and those green eyes slide into white. Most Cleric's eyes change color or dilate in some way when they truly feel their power, but them going white is unlike any Mike's ever seen. More like a Sorcerer's eyes, Mike thinks. Though they're a myth.
“Stay still.” Will scolds lightly, eyes still white, and it's only then that Mike realises he's tapping his fingers against his thigh. He doesn't say anything, not wanting to break Will's focus.
After a deep breath, Will's palm glows, this bright white light that always emits with his spellwork. Mesmerising. Mike's not afraid- how could he be, when he's in the hands of the man he loves most?
White light flashes so bright Mike barely sees it coming, exploding from every angle and not just Will like it normally does. He turns on impulse to cover his eyes with his forearm.
When Mike's eyes open, he isn't with Will anymore. He thinks that perhaps Will has done a brilliant job teleporting him, but this isn't a room of their tower at all. It's a basement somewhere- or at least, it looks like one- and it smells of cheese and lightly like cologne. A couch stands against one wall and opposite it a box on a stand with two sticks coming out of the top. Above the couch, on the wall, a few drawings that look like they were done by a child.
This is nothing like Mike's ever seen before. He blinks a few times, adjusting to the new low light of bulbs across his head and- well, that certainly isn't a candle. He looks at the ceiling, mesmerized.
“Who the fuck is that?”
Mike spins to face a table of five young adults. Maybe a few years younger than Mike, no less. One of them is Dustin- the one that spoke- except it isn't Dustin. His hair is shorter and he's wearing a sweatshirt that says ‘NASA’ on. What in God's name is NASA? Mike isn't sure. Perhaps it's an organisation and he's on a foreign planet.
Then there's Max, and she looks pretty much the same apart from the fact that her ears aren't elfish, and Lucas is sitting beside her with wide eyes. From where Mike is standing, he can see that their feet are touching under the table. He'd smile, if this was a different situation.
On the table is a gameboard. It looks like a similar set up to the one Mike used to have in the woods with his friends, where they'd reenact impressive battles with monsters. This resembles it perfectly, except for the fact that it's more complex and all of the pieces appear individually painted and sculpted for this purpose. Part of Mike would like to play.
He continues looking. Beside Lucas is… Mike? Except it isn't Mike, because his hair is hideously styled and slicked and not curly and there's no way that Mike would ever allow that. He's sitting suspiciously close to…
“Will.” Mike breathes, going over to the table and dropping to his knees by Will's chair. Will lets out a little gasp. This Will- wherever this is- looks much like his Will, just less relaxed. Across the table, someone whispers another, “what the fuck,” so quietly it can barely be heard. Mike takes Will's hand in his own to bring to his lips and finds with upset that he isn't wearing his ring. “Did your spell work? I'm afraid I'm confused.”
Fake Mike practically shoots out of his chair, reaching over to push Mike's hand off. “Don't kiss him!” He protests.
Lucas gives him a strange look. Max sighs.
“Seriously? Some old man appears in your house and you're worried about him kissing Will?” Max says. Old? Mike's barely pushing his twenties.
“Uh, yeah! I don't know where he came from. It's probably- it could be Vecna! I don't want him kissing Will.” Fake Mike says, frustrated.
Fingertips graze Mike's armour. He looks up with wide eyes to find Dustin standing by his side. “Guys, this armor is sick. Are you a cousin of Mike's?”
In his chair, Will sits, stunned, not taking his hand away from Mike's. His eyes are trained on him like he's not quite sure where to put himself and his cheeks are red. The most important thing remains unsaid; Mike can't feel this Will. Not in the same way he can feel his Will. More pressingly, he can't feel his Will at all.
All of this is very surprising. Magic like this would've taxed his Will considerably- Mike needs to get back to him. What if something has happened?
“This is a misunderstanding.” Mike takes his hand away from Will and Will frowns like he wants to take it back but doesn't know how to ask. Definitely not his Will- he would've just taken it. “I shouldn't be in this realm. Something must have failed.”
Dustin whips his head around to look at Lucas, pointing. “Did you hear that? He said ‘realm’! This is something weird, dude, no one says ‘realm’!”
Lucas looks dumbfounded.
“You're all useless.” Max announces from across the table, leaning her head on one hand. “Who are you and where are you from? Is it the Upside Down?”
Whatever the Upside Down is, Mike certainly isn't from there. “I don't believe so, no.” He says, still kneeling, frowning. It feels awkward to move now that he's here, especially with Will's eyes trained on him so intently. “I’m Mike the Brave, from Silverwood. It's a small village off the coast of-”
“Wait, how the fuck do you know the name of my-”
“Guys! Dinner is ready!” A voice from just outside the basement door calls, and Mike immediately recognises it as his mom. Maybe she knows what's happening. Before Mike can call back, fake Mike takes his place.
“Coming, mom!”
It's shouted, loud and irritated, and Mike frowns slightly. He'd never speak to his mom in that way.
“So you're from some weird place no one's ever heard of and you look creepily like Mike, but with better hair.” Max clarifies. Dustin is still touching Mike's armor. Overdramatic, fake Mike rolls his eyes and slams his hands down on the table at the comment. “And you kiss Will for some reason?”
It doesn't take a genius to figure out the implications of that. Soulbinding means Mike and Will are together in every universe, every timeline, every day- which means that this Mike and Will are…
“I apologise.” Mike says, turning to where fake Mike is sitting. If someone else kissed his Will on the hand to greet him, Mike would probably attempt to have him exiled. What terrible respect he has! “I meant no disrespect by kissing your partner.”
Both fake Mike and Will jump like they've been burned. The expression on fake Mike's face can only be described as disgust. “My what?”
“Mike!” Mike's mom, again. Angrier this time.
“Coming!” Fake Mike shouts, also angrier.
All of them stay in silence for a moment before Will stands and crosses the room, crouching by a rucksack. He pulls out a pair of jeans and a long sleeved top and hands them to Mike, who's still kneeling. Perhaps he should stand. This Will is just so beautiful- it's mesmerising- and despite his Oath of Devotion to his Will, he's tempted to kiss him properly. Would it be counted as breaking the oath if it was just Will in a different universe? Mike isn't sure, but he certainly doesn't want to break his loyalty to his man. Everything is just strange here.
Mike stands and doesn't kiss Will. “What are these for?”
“I don't think you can have dinner with us in your armor.” Will says, still slightly flushed, though he looks less dazed now. His hands are shoved deep into his own jean pockets. “You don't have to wear them. Mike can find you something else.”
Mike glances over at fake Mike. He still looks disgusted. “These are fine, thank you.” He looks around for a moment, confused.
“You're sure you're not from the Upside Down?” Max says, eyes narrowed as she stands and reaches for her crutches. This Max appears to be injured. Lucas reaches out to steady her, but his attempts are ignored.
“I'm certain.” Mike nods. His village is definitely the right way up.
“Where did you even get this from? Fancy dress shops don't sell real metal stuff.” Dustin asks, tapping the side of Mike's breastplate. Fingers rub over the cotton of his cape. “Authentic!”
“Thank you?” All of this is new and confusing and he'd like this fake version of Dustin to stop touching, but he's not sure how to ask. Mike clears his throat awkwardly. “Is there somewhere I can change?”
Will points towards a door on the other side of the room and Mike goes easily. The bathroom is small, with only a cubicle shower, a toilet and a sink, and there's a yellow toothbrush on the side of it in a pot and some moisturiser on the shelf. Taking his armor and padding off in such a small space is difficult, but Mike manages with a little struggle and leaves it in a pile there. The jeans are tight. Mike definitely shouldn't have accepted clothes from Will- he's always been thinner than him. Thankfully, the top is comfortable and the sleeves just reach his wrists.
When he looks in the mirror, Mike looks… strange. What would his Will think, if he saw him like this? Modern and wrong. Getting back to him has to be a priority.
Travelling through alternate universes is a myth even in Mike's world. He's fought three headed dragons and hoards of ogres but he's never been faced with a situation that he can't fight his way out of. This is different.
Still, it's always been a legend that if you get stuck in an alternate dimension, the only way to get out is to help the person that you were sent to with their greatest trouble. It makes Mike's task difficult. The room he was sent to had 5 people in, and it could be any of them in need of him. Mike doesn't want to think about the most likely option- that it's this world's Mike that needs his help, it is his house he landed in after all- because they don't seem to be getting on that well.
When Mike himself was nineteen, he was deeply repressed and it took an enormous amount of courage for him to do anything, especially addressing his emotions. Proposing to Will took a year of preparation. Dealing with anything with this world's Mike would likely be similar- and Mike really doesn't want to be stuck here for a year. He has important things to attend to. His Will, most of all.
Besides, this Mike's problem seemed to lay deep inside him. Refusing Will in any world would be a mistake in Mike's mind.
Mike opens the door with a shaky hand. Will is the only one left in the basement- the rest of them had obviously gone upstairs to settle fake Mike's mom- but he smiles encouragingly at Mike and looks him up and down in a way he probably thinks is subtle. His Will does that sometimes. Checking Mike out, sort of discreetly.
“You look nice.” Will says, and then seems to immediately regret it when Mike smiles easily. It's not like he's a stranger to compliments from Will and something familiar here is definitely welcomed. “Um, I mean, the clothes fit you.”
Maybe this Will likes that his jeans are too tight. Mike fights back a larger smile as he ponders the idea.
Awkward, Will coughs to clear his throat and shifts on his feet. His hands stay in fists in his jean pockets. “We're going to tell Mike's mom that you're my friend from college. She'll let you stay the night down here.” Will continues. One hand comes out of his pocket to scratch behind his neck, a nervous habit.
Mike's not sure what about him gets Will this flustered. Surely he should be more worked up by his Mike- even if they aren't together, they must be close to it. That is what soulbinding means.
“I wouldn't mind hiding down here.” Mike suggests. He wouldn't want to make it difficult for Will. “I believe I look rather similar to your Mike.”
Honestly, he can't see this Mike's mom falling for them not being related in some way. Even though their haircuts are different and Mike definitely looks better out of the two of them, there's no denying that they're the same. Same sharp cheekbones, same eyes.
Will doesn't seem too worried, more just bothered by the phrasing of ‘your Mike’. He makes his way to the stairs and puts one hand on the banister, turning back to face Mike, cheeks still slightly flushed. Maybe this Will is just naturally red in the face. Mike can't feel his heartbeat like he can with his Will, but he's sure it's beating faster than it should be. Normally, Mike isn't one to be that conscious of social cues, but the tension between them is palpable.
“Don't worry. Mrs Wheeler is always drunk.” Will says. “Are you coming?”
The idea of Mike's mom being ‘always drunk’ is one he can't quite grasp, but he doesn't question it.
Upstairs- or not so much, since they were in the basement before- is pleasant. There's a family photo on the wall when Mike comes out of the basement that he pauses to look at. Nancy is just as beautiful as she always was, and Holly seems a little younger in this universe but no less bright. There's a man in the picture that Mike doesn't recognise. Presumably his dad; he'd died before Mike was born in his world.
The Wheeler's kitchen seems like it never tires of having people in. It's not impressive and grand in the way Mike's used to, but the table is large and there's a low hanging light that illuminates the multiple plates and people sitting around the edge in golden yellow. Mike stays in the doorway.
Mrs Wheeler is wearing a dress that shows off her low neckline and the scars there. Distantly, Mike wonders what happened to her to obtain them.
“Dude, just pass the salt.” Fake Mike says to Lucas across the table, making a grabby gesture for his friend to pass over the shaker. “You've been hogging it for ages.”
“What do you say?” Lucas teases. Shit eating grin. Mike knows that grin.
“Fuck’s sake, just-”
“Language!” A man's voice from the lounge.
“-Just pass the shaker, I don't-”
“Max, can you pass the bacon?”
“Of course, Dusty Bun!”
“Mike! I didn't know you'd invited someone else over!” Mrs Wheeler's voice cuts through it all and everyone lapses into silence. At some point, Will has sat down in his chair beside his Mike and he gestures for Mike to take a seat beside Dustin on the other side of the table. “You should've told me.”
Finally, Lucas passes the salt over to fake Mike. He still looks mildly disgusted as he shakes some onto his lasagne. It appears to be his default expression. “I didn't invite anyone.” Fake Mike says bitterly.
Mike takes his seat opposite Will at the table. A moment later, a plate of lasagne is slid in front of him by Mrs Wheeler, and he smiles appreciatively. She's definitely drunk if the way she stumbles says anything, but Mike doesn't blame her if she's having to live with this Mike.
Mrs Wheeler sits at the head of the table and begins tucking in to her own lasagne. It tastes relatively nice, but Mike's not able to focus much on the taste of the food when there's so much else going on around him. Lucas pushes Dustin slightly under the table and he knocks into Mike's side and winds up looking mortified.
“Well, I'm sure you did invite him, sweetie. He wouldn't be here otherwise.” Mrs Wheeler reasons.
Before fake Mike can respond, Will jumps in. “He means that he's my friend from college.” A firm nudge under the table puts fake Mike in his place and he nods, almost robotic.
“Oh, I see.” It takes Mrs Wheeler three tries to fork some of the lasagne. Definitely drunk. Respectfully, Mike looks away and down at his own plate. “How is art college? I meant to ask you on the phone, but I… didn't get a chance.”
From the way she says it, Mike gets the impression that there was another reason why Mrs Wheeler didn't ask on the phone.
“It's good. Stressful.” Will smiles politely.
Mrs Wheeler turns to Mike. In his peripheral vision, he catches sight of Dustin's terrified expression. None of them talked about what Mike was or wasn't supposed to say before dinner; stupidly, they were all too involved in getting upstairs before Mrs Wheeler blew her fuse.
“I assume you're at art school too?” She prompts with a smile.
Not getting it, Mike shakes his head. “No. I fight.”
The table is silent for a moment.
“He's doing a sports course.” Max supplies helpfully around a mouthful of lasagne. Lucas gives her a subtle look to swallow her food that she ignores. “Y'know, the boxing segment.”
Everyone collectively breathes a sigh of relief and Mrs Wheeler nods understandingly. “You should teach Mike some time. He could do with getting into a sport.”
Fake Mike looks humiliated. His cheeks flush and his gaze stays trained on his food, and for a moment Mike actually feels bad for him. Maybe he's a bit skinny, but not disastrously so. “Mom.” He complains.
Jealousy is an ugly emotion. Often, it does make you overly grumpy and angry. Mike supposes he probably isn't making this very easy for this world Mike by going straight in and kissing his Will, especially when they aren't together and there's obviously some unresolved tension there for both of them. Or maybe he's just grumpy all the time.
“That would be my pleasure.” Mike says, more to save his counterpart the embarrassment than anything.
“My mistake, I never asked your name.” Mrs Wheeler misses the plate entirely with her fork this time.
“Michael.” Says Mike.
“Dylan.” Says Dustin.
“Bob.” Says Lucas.
Silence, again.
Obviously, Max is the brains in this group, because she laughs in a way that doesn't seem too forced or too fake and brushes down her t-shirt with one hand. “It’s Michael Dylan, but we call him Bob because it gets confusing with Mike there.” Max gives everyone a pointed look. “Right, guys?”
That's met with various ‘of course’s and ‘that’s right’s from the rest of the group. Will sips his water and fidgets uncomfortably when his and Mike's eyes meet across the table. If he was fake Mike, he'd definitely be feeling insecure with the way Will keeps flushing at someone who isn't him. The jealousy is definitely justified.
Footsteps echo from the hallway and Mike turns in his seat to face whoever it is coming down the stairs. Holly has some sort of very bulky necklace with speakers attached around her neck, and the speakers are playing some music that Mike doesn't recognise, but it's faint. She's got her hair twisted up and she takes her plate from the side and nods to Mrs Wheeler.
“Thanks, mom!” Holly calls out as she turns to leave, glass of water in her free hand.
Mrs Wheeler seems almost panicked, like she wasn't expecting this. “You can eat with us, honey! You don't have to go upstairs so soon.”
Typically, Holly doesn't seem interested. Mike's Holly has passed this phase now at her age of 16, but Mike remembers vividly when she was like this. Never wanting to spend time with them. It was made worse with the terrible things she saw when she got caught out in the village one day during a siege, and Mike had protected her- of course he had- but he couldn't cover her eyes and fight.
Now, his Holly is a lot more experimental. She's working on her powers with Will, and they often play together in the gardens when she comes to visit, even now they're older. Mike can't imagine a life without his siblings.
Perhaps this Holly has seen things, too. Perhaps this Mike has more issues than just his dysfunctional relationship with his Will.
“It's okay. I'm in the middle of homework, so.”
Holly leaves, pushing her miniature speakers over her ears before she goes back upstairs. This whole house seems to be a whirlwind.
Mrs Wheeler looks mildly upset by the rejection. This is obviously a common occurrence- if the way the table springs into action says anything. Even fake Mike's disgusted expression disappears for a moment.
“The lasagne is lovely, mom.” He says with some sort of half smile.
Will is quick to agree, picking up his water- or is it fake Mike's?- to sip some. Fake Mike watches closely. So that definitely wasn't Will's water, then. “Yeah. Thank you, Mrs Wheeler.”
“Did you make extra? I could eat this all week.” Dustin quips.
The rest of dinner goes smoothly. Mike isn't addressed again so he stays quiet, just eating and taking a few sips of someone's water every so often. No one seems to mind if it isn't his. Dustin and Lucas resume their game of footsie under the table, which isn't going well because they're sat beside each other, and Max gives them both a disgusted expression every so often. Neither this world Mike or Will talk, but they both sneak looks when they think the other isn't looking.
This is going to be a long few days.