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Mike and Will were alone, again, because Mike had taken Will out for the afternoon- again. Will loved it, of course he loved it, how could he not? But it was driving him crazy. He was going insane, because it felt like a date. Hell, it looked from an outsider’s perspective to be a date. Lucas sure seemed to think so, but neither of the boys involved have been brave enough to call it one. It had been almost half a year since Mike and El had broken up after that messy summer in California, and Mike and Will had been doing… whatever this was for the better part of the past five months.
“Want to hang out after school today?” Mike would ask him, eyes glowing and eyebrows doing that irresistible twitch upwards that Will loved despite his inability to decipher its meaning. The first time, Will had simply nodded, clueless to what was to come.
“Sure, I thought Dustin was busy though, and Lucas had practice?”
Mike had looked away, but when his eyes had fallen back on Will he was grinning through a faint blush.
“I thought we could hang out just the two of us, like we used to. It’s been a while.”
Just the two of us. Like we used to. and really, how could Will say anything but “yes”? Yes, yes, yes, every time, in every universe, because it was Mike who was asking, who was determined to bridge the gap that had opened between them.
That was how Will found himself in their new spot, a recently abandoned junkyard just on the edge of town. Mike had brought chips and soda, and even fresh cookies that he claimed he’d stolen from Nancy. Will, as always, had brought blankets for them, and napkins because Mike always forgot some.
It was the first week of February, and all everyone seemed to be talking about was Valentine’s Day. The school was decked out in pink, and girls were whispering together when their crushes walked by; even Lucas and Max had something planned. Dustin had been building up the courage to talk to El, guilt keeping him from making a move despite Mike’s encouragement. The two boys still didn’t have plans, and if Mike didn’t do or say something soon, Will thought he might explode.
“Yeah, and I just- I know we’re doing the crawls and I’m glad you know? But as guilty as I feel about it, I like the time between. It’s nice to have quiet moments where we get to do stuff like this,” Mike concludes, hand falling into his lap from where it had been flapping about as he spoke.
”And what is ‘stuff like this,’ Mike?”
The question rests like acid on Will’s tongue, begging for its release. He swallows it down, nodding instead.
“No, I know what you mean. I feel guilty about it too sometimes, but… we’ve earned this. And if we didn’t have a chance to slow down every once in a while, we’d just burn out, you know?” It's an honest answer, if not also a safe one, but Mike seems satisfied regardless.
”Exactly!” Mike agrees, looking relieved by Will’s reply. “Yeah!” His hand reaches out, grabbing Will’s pant leg and playing with the hem. He was clingy; he had always been that way, sure, but it was a trait of his that had… faded when they’d gotten older. Now, though, the old Mike seemed to be in full swing, worse even, especially when the pair was alone. Mike’s long, cold hands brushed Will’s ankle every so often as he fiddled mindlessly with the denim of his friend’s jeans, almost as if he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.
A silence fell over them, but it wasn't oppressive, and it wasn’t full of anxious, unspoken truths like the silences between them used to hold. It was peaceful- calm. They’d relearned how to simply exist together, and it was all Will could ask for, really, even if deep down he knew he wanted more. Everyday it seemed more likely that Mike did, too, but he wasn’t saying anything and that was exactly the issue.
Mike had always been so headstrong- so passionate, and it often bled into his friendships. Will tried to remind himself that that could be what this was, but it grew less believable as time closed the distance between them and Mike brought him lunch when he forgot to feed himself, or started carrying a spare flannel in his bag in case Will got cold. The lines between friendship blurred when Mike blushed every time he asked Will to hang out one on one, every time his gaze lingered almost imperceptibly on Will’s mouth when he chewed his bottom lip, Mike’s tongue grazing his own lower lip for reasons Will hardly dared wonder at.
It’s Mike, of course, who ends up breaking the silence.
”So, I was thinking… uh, I mean, I was wondering if you… Well, ok, there’s this new film coming out next week and I guess I was wondering if you’d want to see it with me? On the weekend, so we don’t have to rush after school. Uh, on Saturday. It’s called Control.” He adds the title like an afterthought, almost as if it had only occurred to him that it might matter once he had said everything else.
Saturday, next week. Valentine’s Day. Will blanks out for a second, the implications of Mike’s words landing like a sack of bricks on Will’s chest. He had, once again, managed to ask Will out without saying the damn words.
Will laughs, softly and not unkindly, through his nose. “Mike… no. No,” he repeats.
Hurt flashes across Mike’s face, and he physically flinches, recoiling from the rejection, which shocks Will enough to confirm his suspicions, though that hadn’t been why he’d denied his best friend.
“Oh- I mean, yeah, that’s ok, that’s-“
”Mike,” Will interrupts him, grabbing his best friend’s hand that had shot away from his jean cuffs and curling his fingers tightly around Mike’s wrist. “Mike, let me finish.”
When Mike’s breath caught, eyes wide in a mix of anxiety and shame and the smallest spark of hope, Will had to force his brain back into action.
“If that was an attempt to ask me out for Valentine’s… it was awful. If you want to do a friend thing like we used to with the Party, it’s cool, we can. But if you’re asking me out, you are gonna do it properly. No more ‘hanging out,’ ok?” He is kind as he speaks, but firm, eyes twinkling. “Hanging out” had all but become code for “go on a date,” and while Will loved it, he was getting tired of letting Mike get away with the vague nature of their relationship.
For Valentine’s no less, he deserved something nice, a gesture, even a small one. Mike loved doing grand gestures, Will knows that. He can see his Mike beneath the plausible deniability, behind the nerves, the fear, but his best friend has shrouded himself in the safety of their friendship. At Will’s bold words, everything clouding Mike seemed to melt away. He looks away, having turned bright red as soon as the brunette had said the words “ask me out.”
Mike nodded, still unable to meet Will’s eyes.
“Ok,” he breathed, so quiet it was just above a whisper, and then louder the second time. “Ok. Yeah, you’re right.”
He inhales sharply, finally looking at Will, really looking at him, and his expression is so earnest Will feels his own breath catch, taken away by the vulnerability Mike usually hides so carefully that is now clearly displayed on his face.
“Will,” he starts, and Will wants to cut him off right there despite his earlier statement; he wants to press his lips to the pink, chapped mess of Mike’s and say “yes” already, but he bites his tongue with no small amount of willpower and relishes in the press of their palms as Mike slips his wrist free of Will’s fingers and moves his hand down so it’s holding Will’s.
“Will, you are my best friend. You always have been. I can’t imagine the world without you in it. I had to once, and it was unbearable. I can’t- I feel crazy,” he lets out a helpless laugh, and it’s endearing to Will to an embarrassing extent.
“I mean, I can’t function without you, but the minute you’re around I’m just- I go haywire. I love how it feels to be close to you, and this is absolutely horrifying but I can’t help but feel… or hope- I mean I just think that-“ Mike pauses, takes a moment to collect himself, hands dragging through his hair that’s only gotten curlier since he last cut it. He drops his hand back into the safety of Will’s cuff before he tries again.
“Fuck, what I’m trying to say is that I really don’t want to sound conceited but I think you feel the same way- or at least that you like me back, and that makes it so much less scary. I don’t want to hide how I feel Will, not from you anyway, because the rush of being close to you just pales in comparison to the fear of being… different. I really like you, Will. I think I have for years. And so, I have to ask; Will you go out with me on Valentine’s?”
Now that he’s finally said it, stumbling over his words in true Mike Wheeler fashion, Will’s at a loss for words; the “yes” he’d been dying to spit out catching somewhere between his heart and his throat. He just squeezes Mike’s hand, stroking his knuckles with his thumb, and nods. Then, finally, the words come, free at last after years of not so patient waiting.
”I thought you’d never ask,” he lets out, and Mike chuckles in a mix of joy and relief.
“Took me long enough,” he admits, but he looks anything but bashful; no, Mike is glowing. Will has never seen him like this before, could hardly believe he’s real, that this moment is real, that Mike is pink and his cheeks are high on his face and it’s because of him, Will fucking Byers.
His free hand reaches out almost of its own accord, tracing Mike’s face like the physical proof would establish that this wasn’t a dream. Mike’s skin was smooth and red-hot, and his blush made Will giggle.
“It did,” Will agrees, tone teasing but so painfully in love, “but you got there eventually. Just in time too, thank god for both of us.”
Mike nods emphatically, but Will can already tell he’s lost the other boy; Mike wasn’t listening even as he hummed in agreement.
”Will,” he breathes out, and the way Mike voices his name like it’s something sacred sends chills down Will’s spine. Mike’s smile softens; his giddy expression is replaced with something reverent.
“Mike,” Will whispers back.
“Can I kiss you?”
Will doesn’t waste time answering, instead, he presses his lips to those of Micheal Wheeler, and it’s… everything. Fireworks don’t go off, nothing explodes or shifts dramatically. Actually, it’s the opposite; Will feels like everything has finally settled. Like he can breathe properly for the first time in years- like he is, at long last, at rest and has made his way home. It feels perfectly right, a puzzle piece completing a waiting picture, and they went in for another soon after. Mike leans in greedily for a third, wasting no time, but Will pushes him away gently, giggling, their hands still entwined.
Mike’s bottom lip, the one that was just pressed against Will’s like he has dreamed about for years, pushes out into a pout.
“No kiss?”
It takes all his willpower, but Will shakes his head resolutely.
“No kiss,” he confirms. “You can wait till our date.”
At the word “date,” Mike perks up again. He really is like a dog, Will thinks fondly, trying to suppress another giggle.
“Ok!” Mike agrees eagerly, never one to mask how he feels when it’s safe to do so. “Our date. Our date. I’m going on a date with Will Byers!”
Will flushes red-hot, trying to roll his eyes and maintain a straight face to no avail.
“You idiot,” he says gently, pressing a peck to Mike’s cheek that has the other boy’s eyes widening in delighted shock. Mike’s mouth dropped open into the smallest, silent “oh,” and then closed, like he was trying and failing to form coherent words.
“Whatever you say,” he lets out when the ability to make sounds is graciously returned to him, pressing his shoulder flush against Will’s.
Will lets himself press back, and if Mike’s head ends up in his lap by sunset, Will’s artist's fingers curled and carding through his hair, well that’s just for them to know about, yet another thing shared just between the pair.
Lucas is never going to let either of them live it down, but for once, Will can’t wait for the teasing.