Chapter Text
Saturday, July 19th, 1986
Will was bored. The kind of bored that makes you lie upside down on your bed with your head hanging off the side. A few minutes earlier, Rockin’ Robin had ceremoniously announced “it’s a sidewalk-scorching, blood-boiling, eyeball-popping 89 degrees outside!” Lucas was at the hospital with Max, Dustin was working on some project with Mr. Clarke, and Jonathan and Nancy were off on one of their Jonathan-and-Nancy missions. And Will sure as hell wasn’t gonna ask Mike to hang out.
Just as Will was considering sitting up because there was a mildly concerning amount of blood pooling in his head, his old walkie-talkie crackled to life. The walkie-talkie he’d carted all the way to California, despite knowing it was thousands of miles out of range. The walkie-talkie he’d shoved in his bag just before the agents had shot up his house, and then he’d carried it from Suzie’s house to the Nina Project to that stupid Surfer Boy Pizza kitchen. The walkie-talkie which had now sat gathering dust for the last year, since the Byers had settled themselves in the Wheelers’ spare rooms.
“Will! Will! Will, I know you’re there. Pick up.” It was Mike. Of course it was.
Will rolled off the bed and picked up the walkie, “What is it, Mike?”
“I’m bored.”
“Mike, we’re all bored. I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”
Will heard Mike sigh over the crackly current, “We’re best friends, Will. We shouldn’t be bored when we’re living in the same house.”
Will rolled his eyes. Typical Mike, with his idealized version of what should be. “It’s like a gazillion degrees outside. Everyone is off doing stuff that doesn’t involve us. I don’t know what you want me to do about that.”
“I heard Steve’s parents are out of town.”
Will didn’t know exactly what in Mike’s tone of voice caused his heart to skitter like a stone thrown across a lake. “And?”
“And, they have a pool. And, Steve won’t be back until his shift at the Squawk is over, which isn’t for three more hours. And, I’m bored, so can you please stop moping around?”
“You can’t be suggesting we sneak into the Harrington’s pool.”
“Why not? No one’ll catch us.”
“Mike, this is a terrible idea,” Will said, despite the fact he was already digging through his suitcase for his swim trunks (there wasn’t a closet or dresser in the basement). He was never able to say no to Mike.
~•~
“If we get caught I’m leaving you behind,” Will said, frowning at Mike, who was waist-deep in the pool, leaning over the edge and fiddling with the controls on the portable radio.
Rolling his eyes, Mike looked up at Will and responded, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” A softer tone taking over his voice, he said, “No one’s gonna catch us, Will. We’ll be fine.”
They’d left their bikes leaning up against the side of the house and thrown their towels onto the slightly worn and mildewy pool deck chairs. Mike went back to messing with the radio, eyebrows knit together. The summer sun had made his freckles darken and multiply, constellations scattered across his face.
“Stupid thing,” Mike sighed, hitting the radio, snatches of Falco’s “Rock Me Amadeus” jolting Will out of his daydream. “Never works when you need it to.”
“We could just leave,” Will said.
“No one’s making you stay,” Mike bit out, before sighing. “Will, did I do something wrong? Did I say something? Because, I— I thought that after California, things were gonna go back to the way they were. That we’d be best friends again. But it feels like you’re pulling away. And I don’t want that.” Mike was still looking at the radio, but he’d slumped over a bit, looking very small and defeated.
Will had been sitting on the edge of the pool a safe distance away from Mike and trailing his feet through the water, but when Mike said that, he stopped. “I don’t want that, either,” he said quietly.
“Then what’s going on, Will?” Mike said, looking up, his eyes the color of the deepest depths of space. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Will said, which was a more bitter truth than Mike knew. “People just grow up.”
The radio buzzed into existence, and Prince’s “Purple Rain” started softly leaking into their little bubble. Mike took a step towards Will, and Will could see his chest rising and falling with each breath, ripples of water drifting away and lapping against Will’s legs.
“I guess I thought that’d never happen to us. That we’d be crazy together forever.” There was a little smile in the corner of Mike’s mouth, but he was looking at Will like his face was a map for a D&D campaign.
Will couldn’t look at him anymore. Couldn’t look at the curl of hair on his forehead, couldn’t look at his freckle constellations, couldn’t look into those eyes he’d looked into all those years ago on the couch in Mike’s basement and believed it would all work out. He couldn’t. “Not everyo— thing. Not everything gets a happy ending, Mike. You can’t rewrite this story.” Will got up and put his shirt back on. “I’ll see you at dinner, Mike.” Will grabbed his bike roughly by the handlebars as tears threatened his eyes, and rode off towards the Wheeler house just like he’d been doing his whole life.
~•~
Mike was floating on his back in the middle of the pool when he heard a voice.
“What are you doing?”
Mike was so startled he nearly sank and drowned. “Robin? What are you doing here?”
“Steve forgot his lunch. But I think I’m the one who should be asking you that question.”
“It’s hot outside. Wanted to go for a swim.”
“No shit, Sherlock. And isn’t that what the community pool’s for?” Robin said, raising an eyebrow. “And why are there two towels? If Steve finds out you brought some girl to his pool—”
“It wasn’t a girl,” Mike said, a sullen expression on his face.
“Well then, who was it?” Robin didn’t look like she believed him.
Mike frowned at the trees, unsure why he didn’t want to tell her. It’s not like she’d think they were… that. And if she did think that she probably wouldn’t care anyway, she didn’t seem like that kind of person.
“Look, Wheeler, Steve’s out front in the car. If I take too long, he’s gonna come looking for me, and he’s not gonna be too happy when he sees you’ve snuck into his parent’s pool.”
“It was Will!” Mike blurted out, almost faster than he could think. “It was Will. There, you can leave now.”
But Robin wasn’t leaving. “Will? I haven’t seen you guys hang out in months.”
“People grow up,” Mike said, avoiding her gaze.
“Mm-hm,” Robin wasn’t convinced. “Why’d he leave without his towel?”
“He was in a hurry.” Mike couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the trees.
“Let me get this straight. You and Will hung out for the first time in months, Will then left in such a hurry that he forgot his towel at someone else’s pool despite being the biggest goody-two-shoes rule-follower I know, and then I found you floating alone like a depressed starfish. Interesting.” Robin sighed, “Look, I’m gonna grab Steve’s lunch and we’re gonna leave, but you should leave right after us ‘cause his parents are coming home tonight and they wouldn’t exactly be thrilled about a random teenager in their pool.”
“Fine.”
Robin started to walk towards the door, but stopped and turned around. “Hey, Wheeler. Are you okay?”
Mike looked at her for the first time. “Do I look okay?”
Robin frowned and walked inside, muttering under her breath, “Not really.”
~•~
Mike was drying off his hair when he heard Steve’s car drive away. Robin’s words echoed in his ears. Are you okay? Was he okay? Should he be okay? His girlfriend had broken up with him because she “needed time to figure herself out,” his best friend wasn’t talking to him, and the party was falling apart. That’d make anyone at least a little not-okay, right? But he couldn’t stop thinking as he rode his bike home, that maybe he was a little more not-okay than he should be.
~•~
Dinner was tuna pasta salad, which Mike didn’t really like but he still told his mom it was delicious. He didn’t say much, just spent most of the time trying to ignore Jonathan and Nancy holding hands and Will avoiding his eyes. How did his life get so messed up? What happened between now and that Halloween he and Will had sat in his basement and promised to go crazy together? He knew what had happened. He knew it was probably his fault. But he thought he’d fixed it in California. He thought they’d go back to normal. But now it was Will who was pulling away. And Mike didn’t know why.
~•~
Mike was lying in bed, trying not to focus on his existential dread, when there was a soft knock on the door. “Mike? Can I come in?” It was Nancy.
“Sure,” Mike said, sighing and sitting up on his bed.
Nancy opened the door and closed it behind her. “How was your day?”
This was weird. They weren’t the type of siblings to have real heart-to-heart conversations, not like Jonathan and Will did. “…Fine? How was yours?”
“Good.” Nancy sighed, clearly knowing her casual facade was completely see-through. “Robin said I should check on you.”
At those words, Mike felt the drawbridge to his heart go up. “What else did she say?” He knew he probably shouldn’t be so defensive over talking to his sister, but he couldn’t help it.
“Nothing, Mike. Nothing. You know, it’d be nice if we could just have a normal conversation for once.” Nancy’s words cut deep and Mike felt his heart shudder as the blow landed. He didn’t mean for it to happen, but tears started pricking at his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Nance. I don’t know why I can’t—”
Nancy walked over to Mike’s bed and gave him a hug, rubbing his back. He was truly crying now, the weight of the day having fully settled. “Mike, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“I just don’t know why I keep losing people,” Mike said, almost without meaning to.
“Is this about El?” Nancy said. “I saw her today, she’s making a lot of progress with her powers. I bet she’d like to see you, I could drive—”
“No.” Mike took a deep breath. “No, this isn’t about El. I don’t think she and I… fit. Not like we’re supposed to, anyway. Not like you and Jonathan,” Mike’s words were tumbling out of him now, like an avalanche. He didn’t think he could stop them if he tried.
Nancy pulled away slightly from the hug so she could look him in the eye. She grabbed a tissue from his bedside table and wiped his face. Her eyes had that look in them, the one they got when she was hot on the trail of a new story for the newspaper. Like pieces of a puzzle were clicking together but she couldn’t see the whole picture yet. “What is this about, then?” Mike was still crying, fresh tears replacing the ones Nancy had wiped away. Nancy frowned and took a deep breath. “Can I tell you a secret, Mike?” Mike nodded. “Sometimes I feel like I look at Robin for a little too long. Or I think about her a little too long.” Nancy wasn’t looking at Mike anymore, instead looking at a nondescript patch of the comforter. “Like... in the same way I think about Jonathan.” Nancy looked back at Mike. “I do love Jonathan. I do. But sometimes I can’t help but think about how funny and confident Robin is, or how her bangs brush her eyebrows at the exact right spot, or how she’d always recommend just the right movie when she worked at Family Video,” Nancy paused, considering her next options. “Has that ever happened for you?”
Mike had been looking at Nancy, trying to figure out what she meant and why she was telling him this, when it hit him like a crowbar across the face. “Oh.” He remembered Will sitting on the edge of the pool earlier that day, the tendons in his knees flexing as his feet swished through the water. Will shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched a bird flit around the tops of the trees. Oh. “Do… Do you like Robin? Like how you like Jonathan?”
“I think so,” Nancy said.
Mike was crying again, but this time it was because a weight was being lifted off his chest, not pressed down. A weight that had been there his whole life, a weight he hadn’t even known was there. “I think…” Mike felt like his words were strangling him from the inside of his throat. “I think I might be the same.”
Nancy was crying too now, tears silently and softly running down her face. They sat there like that for a while, feeling the freedom of having shared their load.
“Nancy?”
“Yeah Mike?”
“Would it be okay if… If I didn’t think I even ever liked El… how I should’ve?”
“Yes, Mike. That’d be okay.”
~•~
Sunday, July 20th, 1986
Mike didn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t remember Nancy leaving. But both must’ve happened, because he woke up in his bed, alone. He didn’t remember at first what they’d talked about. What he’d realized. When he did remember, his head felt twice as heavy and he let it fall back onto the pillow. “Shit.” He didn’t want to get out of bed. He didn’t want to start the day. He didn’t want to face the boy in the basement. Maybe he could start a new civilization in his bedroom? But no. Breakfast must be had, and facts must be faced.
Mike poured Corn Flakes into a bowl, the rooster on the box staring at him like it was judging him. “Shut up,” Mike muttered.
“I didn’t say anything,” a voice behind him said.
Mike swirled around. It was Will. Of course. Before he even knew what he was doing, Mike grabbed his bowl and spoon and marched mechanically up the stairs to his bedroom, only realizing when he got to his bed that he’d forgotten the milk. Mike groaned, flopping backwards onto his bed. “Idiot.”
~•~
Will had walked into the kitchen just like any other morning. But not just like any other morning, when Mike had seen Will, he’d left without even any milk for his Corn Flakes. “What the?” This was weird. Sure, sometimes Mike could be forgetful, but who forgets the milk for their cereal? Not to mention that just yesterday Mike had been all about accusing Will of pulling away. Will did feel bad about the distance he’d been keeping, but he had his reasons, which unfortunately Mike just couldn’t find out about.
The sound of shuffling feet came around the corner, and Nancy’s perm drifted towards the coffee maker. She looked very at home in herself, sipping her coffee.
“Morning, Will.”
“Morning.”
“Have you seen Mike yet?” There was a weird analytic look in Nancy’s eyes Will couldn’t quite figure out.
“Yeah, he was here getting some cereal, but he left without any milk,” Will said, bewilderedly chuckling.
“Hmm,” Nancy said, that look lingering in her eyes. “I guess I’ll bring him the milk then.” She grabbed the jug out of the fridge, tossing over her shoulder, “Have a good day Will!”
~•~
Nancy knocked roughly on Mike’s door. “Open up!”
Mike opened the door enough to stick his head through, looking equally offended and confused. “Jeez, Nance, it’s 9 AM.”
Nancy barged her way into his room, shutting the door behind her. “Will told me you forgot the milk for your cereal.” Her tone was amused enough to make it clear she internally was laughing at him.
Mike scowled as his face flushed. “Yeah, I— Yeah. Thanks,” he poured some into his bowl.
Nancy took a long sip of coffee, studying Mike.
“What?” Mike snapped, annoyed at having become some art in a museum.
“You’re a mess over him,” Nancy said.
Mike’s face and ears turned bright red at this, but he tried to play it off. “Who?”
“You know who.”
Mike sighed defeatedly, lying down on his bed. “How do you deal with it? How do you function? I can’t even be in the same room as him without feeling like I’m on the surface of the sun.”
Nancy frowned. “Mike, I don’t feel like that,” she gestured broadly at the mess that was Michael Wheeler, “around Robin.”
Mike incredulously sat up from where he’d been lying on his bed. “You don’t? But you said—”
“I said I liked Robin. I did not, however, say I was head-over-heels in love with her, like you seem to be with Will.”
“I’m not— I don’t— I— What?” Mike fell backwards onto his bed again.
“Mike, when I’m with Robin I can at least hold a conversation, even if I’m wondering how her hair would feel curled around my fingers. You couldn’t even be in the same room as Will without falling apart completely.”
“Please stop saying his name,” Mike said, hands over his face.
“Exactly! Do you see my point?”
“Yes, unfortunately,” Mike groaned.
“Okay Pandora, I’m gonna leave you alone to consider your options, but—”
“Options!” Mike exploded back into a sitting position, “What options? What options do I have other than avoid my best friend for the rest of our lives and—”
“You could just tell him,” Nancy said, looking directly into Mike’s eyes.
This made Mike’s runaway train of thought freeze in its tracks. “Tell him? Do you think he’d—”
“I don’t think anything. You have to do the thinking for yourself on this one. But it’s an idea.”
Mike did think. He thought while he finished his Corn Flakes. He thought while he brushed his teeth. He thought while he rode his bike over to Lucas’ house. He thought while he knocked on the door.
~•~
“Lucas, how did you know Max liked you?”
Lucas was looking at Mike like he was crazy. Maybe he was.
“Haven’t you had a girlfriend? El? Remember her?”
“Yeah… but we started dating when we were twelve. That’s different. Also, she’s El. She’s not…” Mike trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence. Luckily Lucas didn’t expect him to.
“I mean, I guess there were just signals. I’d make a dumb joke, and she’d laugh. Or our arms would brush against each other and there’d be a kind of electricity, you know? Chemistry. Like in science class when you mix two chemicals together and they react and create heat.”
Mike sat thoughtful for a moment, “And… how did you ask her out?”
Lucas looked at him sideways, but thankfully didn’t question him. “I just asked her if she wanted to hang out sometime, just the two of us. She made some joke at first about me being a stalker, but ultimately she said yes. And that was it.” Mike just sat there, on Lucas’ bedroom floor, thinking. “I should probably head to the hospital now,” Lucas said, checking his watch. “In case she needs me or anything.”
Mike snapped back to reality. “Yeah, yeah of course. Want me to come with?”
Lucas looked like a ship set adrift. “No, they only let two visitors at a time, and her mom will be there so… Thanks anyway though.”
~•~
Monday, July 21st, 1986
“Hey, Will.”
“Hey, Nancy.” Will hadn’t expected to start a sort of morning ritual with Nancy Wheeler, but since they were the two earliest risers in the house they often ran into each other at breakfast.
“How’s Mike?” Her question hit Will like an electrical shock.
“Wouldn’t know.”
Nancy muttered something under her breath which Will couldn’t hear, but he could’ve sworn it sounded like, "That idiot.”
“You should talk to him.”
Will looked at her sideways, wondering if she’d grown a second, slightly insane, head. “I think he’s made it very clear he doesn’t want to speak to me,” he said, staring down at his slightly charred toast.
Nancy sighed in a way which reminded Will of her mother—weary and mildly annoyed. “My brother doesn’t always make the best decisions for himself. Especially when it comes to his emotions.” After sharing this ominous tidbit, Nancy left Will alone in the kitchen.
~•~
Monday, July 28th, 1986
For the next six days, Mike managed to avoid Will (not that Will was making any attempts to seek Mike out). Nancy kept giving him looks, but that was preferable to Mike over the other option. On the seventh day, around two in the afternoon, there was a knock on his bedroom door. “Mike? Can we talk?” Mike froze. It was Will. Mike might’ve stopped breathing, he wasn’t sure. All he could think about was avoiding this conversation. “Mike, I know you’re in there. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said, I’m sorry for— Mike, can we please just talk?” Mike sighed. There was no avoiding Will when he was like this.
As desperate as Will had seemed to talk, they were both now silent. Will had sat down on the floor, his back against Mike’s bed. Mike had made the tactical decision to sit in his desk chair. Will’s eyes were glistening and rimmed red (though he seemed like he was trying to hide this). Jesus, Mike really couldn’t stop being a bad friend, could he? Despite this, Mike couldn’t help but notice that the flush which crying had brought to Will’s cheeks made him look quite beautiful. Could he not even look at his friend without seeing something he loved? At this rate, Mike was doomed. There was no way he’d make it through this conversation. Will was looking at the wall, considering the things Mike had pinned up. “Is that my drawing?”
Mike blinked, drawn out of his trance. What was Will looking at? “Oh, yeah. I found some old stuff downstairs while you were in California.” The drawing was one Will must’ve done when they were nine or ten. It was the party, a scene from a campaign Mike had written. They were supposed to rescue a paladin from the clutches of a monster, but they’d ultimately failed due to one unlucky dice roll.
“You kept it?” Will looked at Mike, a murky blend of surprise and pride in his eyes.
“Yeah, of course I did. I’ve still got your painting in my closet too, there just wasn’t any more room on the wall.” Mike wasn’t sure why they were talking about this, especially now of all times. It felt so mundane, compared to the million-miles-a-minute his brain was speeding along at.
Will took a deep breath, sounding eerily like a soldier who knows their fate. “El didn’t commission that.”
Mike blinked, unable to understand what he thought he’d just heard. “What?”
“El didn’t commission it,” Will repeated. “The painting. She didn’t even know about it.”
Mike’s brain felt like it was being dragged along behind a speeding car, his thoughts too slow and disjointed. What did Will mean, El didn’t commission the painting? “Why’d you make it then?”
“Because I wanted to,” Will said, looking at Mike with a sort of finality. “El wasn’t the only one who felt out of place in California.”
Mike was still struggling to understand. “But your letters always seemed so… full. Like you’d moved on. From all of us, I mean. The party.”
“I didn’t move on,” Will said. Mike was suddenly hyper-aware of how long he and Will had been looking at each other, but he also couldn’t look away. “From any of you.” They just sat like that, looking at each other, for a few long moments before Will looked away. “I felt so isolated in California, but then I came back and we were all together again, so it should be the same as it used to be, right? But it wasn’t the same. You were busy running Hellfire and managing your breakup,” Mike blinked at this. He’d almost forgotten about El. “And Lucas was busy taking care of Max, and Dustin was helping Steve and Robin with The Squawk, and I was just here. I was just me. It felt almost like I hadn’t come back. But then, the other day, it was like you’d finally remembered I existed. Remembered we were friends. Best friends. But then you said all that stuff about me being the one pulling away, and I guess I was a little offended. But I’m sorry for what I said. It wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t deserve that.”
Mike just sat there, trying not to drown in Will’s deluge of words. “Is that all?” He didn’t know why he said that. He knew it wasn’t what he should say.
“All?” Will said. “I just told you how shitty I’ve been feeling for the past year—no, two years, and you want more? I can’t believe you sometimes.” Will threw his head back so it rested on Mike’s comforter, his hair spreading out across the blue fabric like delicate rays of sunshine.
“I just thought… Maybe there was another reason. A reason I didn’t see until now.”
Will looked at Mike like his thoughts were an Algebra problem. Like he wanted to rearrange them into a sensible order, but he didn’t know what they even meant. “Another reason?”
“El said you were making a painting for a girl, back in California,” Mike said, trying a bit too hard to change the subject and erase the words he’d said.
A strange expression similar to pain flashed across Will’s face, “I only made one painting, Mike. El must’ve been confused.”
“But were there girls? In California?”
“Yes, Mike, there are girls somewhere in the great state of California. I think you know that.”
“I think you know that’s not what I meant.” Mike’s eyes were trained on Will, like if he looked away, Will might disappear for the third time.
But Will wouldn’t look at Mike. “No, Mike, there were no girls in California. Not for me.” His voice had faded to almost a whisper.
Mike knew he probably shouldn’t say this next part. He should probably just stop, or make a stupid joke. But his curiosity was never able to be contained, however selfish that was. “Was there anyone else?”
Now Will looked at Mike, with such speed that Mike was reminded for a split second of when the Mind Flayer had possessed Will. His eyes were once again searching Mike’s face, asking Did you just say what I think you said? Do you mean what I think you mean? Mike just stared back. “No. There’s never been anyone else,” Will said. The last word was nearly silent, like he didn’t mean for it to escape.
“Hm.” Mike said. He knew it wasn’t the most eloquent thing to say, or the right thing, but that last word was bouncing around his head, looking for a way out. Else. Else? Will’s face was pleading, that same pain-like expression lingering. Like he was hoping Mike would figure something out, or that he wouldn’t. Luckily, or unluckily, Mike always knew exactly what Will meant. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” Will said, laying his head back on the bed again. “It’s really fine, Mike. We don’t have to talk about this anymore, or bring it up ever again, or…”
Mike was only hearing half of what Will said. There was no way he was right about this. Will couldn’t… Right? Nancy’s words echoed in his head. You could just tell him. Nancy was close with Jonathan, obviously, since they were dating. Maybe he’d told her something. Maybe she was right. But Mike’s talent for words had never extended to his love life. So he simply did what his brain was screaming at him to do. Mike walked over to Will, and he kissed him. He kissed him. Long and slow, like he’d been waiting his whole life. And maybe he had. Will had still been talking, but he now stared at Mike, mouth agape, pupils large as stars.
Shit.
Shit.
What had Mike done?
He’d just kissed his best friend without any kind of warning.
It was Will who spoke first. “Oh my god.”
Mike echoed him, like they’d been doing all their lives, “Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I guess I wasn’t thinking, I just—”
“Shut up,” Will said, a new, determined, almost desperate emotion unfolding in his eyes as he pulled Mike back down toward him by his shirt and kissed him. It was even better this time. It was a dam bursting, a thousand flowers blooming, a million planets turning. It was their whole lives, all of their shared traumas and joys. It was everything. Mike didn’t know how long they stayed like that. To him, it felt like his whole life, and yet not long enough.
When they broke apart, Mike was a different person. At least that’s what it felt like. He felt clean. Like the darkest corners of himself, where he’d feared to shine a light for sixteen long years, had been blinded with light. He was kneeling on either side of Will, and his arms were slung over his shoulders. His shirt was slightly stretched out where Will had grabbed him, and his hair was sticking up at odd angles.
“That was the worst week of my life,” Will said.
Mike grinned. This was his best friend. Maybe his more-than-best-friend now. And he was all his. It was like a gear inside Mike’s heart was finally lining up correctly. The paladin was freed.