Chapter Text
Will hadn’t really anticipated how different things would be when they had finally gotten rid of Vecna. It was like—he just hadn’t had the forethought to ever really think about how things would change. It wasn’t a bad thing, he guessed. It was just—things were changing. It felt like things had constantly been changing since the second they’d finished all of the bullshit they’d been dealing with since 1983.
It wasn’t even a bad thing, really, all of the changes. It’s just—why did things have to change? Why was everything suddenly so different and so familiar all at once?
They’d moved—again—only this time it was out of the Wheelers’ house and into one of their own. It wasn’t even a problem, really. It was a nice house. It had three bedrooms, and it had a porch, and Hopper had even finished the back porch just for him.
(“Hey, Kid,” Hopper had called out to him on the day they moved in.
Will had mostly spent the day waiting for someone to tell him what to do. He didn’t exactly have a lot of stuff anymore after the shootout back in Lenora. He’d inherited some hand-me-downs from Lucas and Dustin, and so many from Mike that he didn’t even know what to do with it all. He’d moved his few boxes into the room he and Jonathan would be sharing within the first hour and had spent most of the morning trying very, very hard not to notice the way Mike kept following along after El.
The second Hopper had called out for him, though, Mike had frozen, eyes already narrowed as he looked between the two of them. It was sweet, almost, but it was not something Will was going to let himself misunderstand. So instead, he offered Hop a nervous smile. “Uh, yeah? Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Hopper frowned as he clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry for what, Kid?”
That, at least, made him snap his mouth shut as he wondered what, exactly, he was sorry about. “Um—standing in the way?” he finally offered.
Hopper shook his head and guided him toward the room off the kitchen. “C’mere. Wanna show you something.”
Will didn’t know why he needed to see the porch that was on the other side of the door. He had seen the pictures. It was a dilapidated, browning yellow porch that he had absolutely no idea how to fix, and he was vaguely worried that Hopper thought he, of all people, would have the faintest idea how to fix it up. “Hopper, I’m not sure if my mom has told you this, but in the third grade I actually broke my thumb trying to use a hammer, so if you’re going to ask me to help fix up this porch, that’s actually a really bad idea. Jonathan, on the other hand, is a whiz with a hammer. Did you ever see Castle Byers—”
“Kid,” Hop snorted. “Quiet. Close your eyes.” He felt Hopper’s hands on his shoulders as he guided him out the door. “Okay. On three, open them, alright? One… two… three!”
He opened his eyes, and any argument he had about helping to fix up the porch died in his throat. The weather-stained wood he’d seen in all the photos of the house had been replaced, stained, and painted a warm, daffodil yellow. Hopper had put up walls around the porch, closing it in, with windows on each side of the room and a window seat that looked out into the backyard. The walls had been painted a shade or two darker than the floor. There was a table set up in the corner with six seats, and in the opposite corner was an easel and a stool.
“I—what is this?” he blinked slowly as he walked toward the easel.
Hopper shifted. Will thought that maybe it was the first time he’d ever seen Hop really nervous about something that wasn’t a life-or-death situation. “Well—” he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Your mom and I—we noticed that you gave Jon more space in your guys’ room. Which, it was really nice of you, Kid. And, yeah, Jon’s supposed to be applying to colleges, but who knows what’s going on with that. We just, you know, wanted you to have a space of your own. It’s not just our house, you know? It’s yours, too.” He coughed into his hand, awkwardly. “You like it?”
“I love it,” Will had beamed at him.
He didn’t know if he meant having a father figure, a new home, or the room itself. But he knew he meant it.)
Then he had gotten beaten by his own brother in coming out, which was actually ridiculous because he had known he was gay since he was at least in third grade, when Mike had given him a Valentine’s Day card and his heart had leaped into his throat.
(Family meetings had become a staple in the Byers-Hopper household. Will actually enjoyed them, truth be told. He liked knowing that at least once a week, the five members of their family would gather around the table and talk about whatever was going on with each of them, or air grievances, or at least try to discuss a new house rule.
El was on his left, still in her pajamas. Her curls were loose and frizzy, and she was glaring at the pancakes Hopper had placed in front of her. “These,” she sniffed, one eyebrow arched, “are not Eggos.”
“Well, no,” Hopper sighed as he reached for his cup of coffee. He was still wearing his blue terry cloth robe and his fuzzy slippers. Will had not expected Hopper to be a fuzzy-slippers man, but he supposed he couldn’t judge, considering he’d come down to the table in pink fuzzy socks that he had absolutely stolen from El and flannel pajamas. “They are, however, chocolate chip.”
“Much better than Eggos, sweetie!” Joyce nodded as she reached for the bottle of orange juice. She, too, was still in her pajamas—an oversized T-shirt that Will knew belonged to Hopper and a pair of sweatpants, with her own fuzzy slippers. Will thought it was kind of cute, having parents who wore matching slippers.
El sighed heavily. “I think you are wrong.” She turned to Will, frowning. “Will? Add Eggos to the itinerary.”
He nodded, still half asleep, as he scrawled Eggos onto the list of things to be discussed in this morning’s family meeting. “Where’s Jon?”
“He was still asleep when I came down,” El scowled. “He was out very late.” She turned back to Hopper. “You say Will and I must be home by eleven, but Jon did not come home until three this morning. Explain.” She crossed her arms.
“Someone’s grouchy this morning,” Hopper muttered under his breath before he sighed. “Jon’s older, so his curfew is later.”
“That is stupid. Will and I have superpowers.”
Will nodded. His sister did have a point. “We also saved the world like two months ago.”
“See?” She pointed at him. “Will and I saved the world. Jonathan was just there.”
“Jonathan also has a job,” Jonathan yawned as he walked into the kitchen. His hair was unkempt, sticking up in places, and he was wearing a shirt that definitely wasn’t his. It said Hawkins High Swim Team on it, and Will only knew one person in their circle of friends who had been on the Hawkins High Swim Team.
He was not a snitch, though, so instead he kicked Jonathan’s chair out for him and passed him his own plate of pancakes when Jonathan finally sat down, his own cup of coffee clutched firmly in his hands. “For the record, El didn’t even have a Social Security number until last month, so she couldn’t have a job, and Mom and Hop told me I didn’t need one.”
“You are my babies! If I could have kept Jon from working, too, I would have!” Joyce frowned.
El patted his shoulder. “We have the job of being on standby for the government if they need us again.”
Jonathan wrinkled his nose. “How much does that pay again?” he huffed.
A pancake levitated up and hit him in the face. Will handed El a napkin for her nose. Hopper sighed into his coffee. “I thought we agreed on no powers at the table?”
“We did,” Joyce nodded as she cut off another piece of pancake.
“I deserved that one,” Jon sighed as he took another sip of his coffee.
“Yes. You did,” El nodded.
Hopper raked a hand over his face. “Will? What’s the first item on the agenda, Kid?”
Will peered down at the list in front of him. “Well. I’m not sure. I got syrup on it. I’m going to come back to that. I think the most pressing item is that El and I are going to be juniors in high school, and yet we don’t know how to drive.”
“I don’t recall that being on the pre-approved list of items for today’s meeting,” his mother raised an eyebrow as she reached for a piece of bacon.
“Hm. That’s weird. It definitely was, wasn’t it, El?”
“It was,” she nodded decisively. “You both may have forgotten since you are old. Do not worry, Will and I have remembered for you.”
“I’m not sure you’re going to get driving lessons out of calling them old,” Jonathan sighed as he leaned in to read the itinerary list. “Why is Eggos on the list?”
“Hopper says I eat too many,” El sighed tiredly.
“You do!” Hop sighed. “We went through four boxes last week, Eleven. Do you know how insane that is?”
“We are a family of five,” she blinked serenely as she reached for her glass of chocolate milk. “I cannot help this.”
Joyce thoughtfully swirled her own cup of orange juice. “She has a point, Hop.”
“I’d also like to establish a new lineup for the shower!” Will frowned. “I am currently the last to get to shower, and every morning at exactly seven-oh-three, the hot water is gone and I still have shampoo in my hair! I have tried being faster about shampooing, but frankly I think I’d have to get a buzz cut for that to realistically work.”
El squinted over at him, studying his hair. “You would not look good with a buzz cut.”
The rest of their family also paused to look at him. Hopper grimaced, Joyce sighed, and Jonathan nodded. “El’s right. You’d look awful.”
“Thank you for that, Jonathan,” Will sighed. “I vote we all take a turn being the last one—”
“You could shower at night,” Joyce pointed out thoughtfully.
“I will not be doing that. I will also not be taking questions on why I won’t be doing that.”
Jonathan, the traitor, didn’t even blink. “He sweats in his sleep.”
“I told you that in confidence!”
“I also sweat in my sleep,” El frowned. “Is that not normal? Are we abnormal?”
“Yes,” Hop nodded as he grabbed the newspaper, “but not because you sweat in your sleep.”
“I know we are still talking about Will’s proposal for the new shower lineup, which is—fine, I guess,” Jonathan began. “I support that because he is my brother and I’m also tired of hearing him complain every morning—”
“I do not—”
“You do,” El nodded sagely. “I hear you from my room.”
“Thank you, Jane,” Jonathan sighed. “But I’d like to, well, bring up something that might be a shock to you all.”
“Is this about the hickey, sweetie?” Joyce didn’t even look up from her coffee. Will and El, on the other hand, choked on their drinks.
“Or the fact you’re wearing Steve Harrington’s swim team shirt?” Hopper flipped to the next page of the newspaper. “Look at that, Joyce. They’re opening a new Stop & Shop.”
“Are they? When’s that? I bet they’ll have some nice grand opening sales!”
Jonathan blinked slowly. “You knew?”
Joyce smiled sweetly as she stood to cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead. “Baby, I say this with love, but you are not slick. Hop and I heard him sneaking out about three weeks ago.”
“Tell him to use the door next time,” Hopper grunted. “If he destroys my gutter climbing up and down it, I’ll destroy him.”
“You’re not mad?”
El squinted. “Are you dumb?” she frowned at their brother. “We love you. If you are happy, we are all happy.”
Will nudged his brother. For all their teasing, all their bickering, all the times Jon had been annoyingly overprotective, there was never a chance he would ever not love him. “You’re always my big brother, you know that, right?” He flashed a small smile. “I’m proud of you.”
He wondered, though, if he’d ever feel like he could say the words I’m gay out loud. If he’d ever have someone who made him want to. Because loving Mike? That didn’t make him want to shout it from the rooftops. It made him want to shove it down as far as it could go.
“I am also proud,” El nodded.
Hopper raised his coffee cup. “Ditto, Kid. But I did mean what I said. If I have to replace that damn gutter, everyone in this house will be miserable.”
Joyce smiled as she kissed his head again. “I have pamphlets about safe gay sex! Let me go find them!”
El watched her go, then turned back to Hopper. “Now. Back to the Eggos.”)
So, yeah, things were changing. But he was mostly fond of them. But ever since summer had started, he couldn’t help but think he’d been transported back in time to the summer of 1985. So he guessed not everything was changing.
(It was the first week of summer, and Lover’s Lake was deserted. It was weird, actually, because Will didn’t think he’d ever seen Lover’s Lake this empty before. It was just the party, spread out on the dock, perfectly content in a way none of them had been since before November of ’83. He’d spent the last hour laying out on his towel, trying not to think about the fact that Mike’s elbow kept making contact with his ribs.
“Can you fucking believe it? We’re on our way to junior year, baby!” Dustin cheered. “Who would have thought?”
“Oh, please, don’t rub it in.” Max rolled her eyes. Her hair had been pulled up and off the nape of her neck. She was wearing so much sunscreen Will was beginning to wonder if it would ever come off. She looked pretty, though, in a red, white, and blue tank top and jean shorts.
Dustin rolled his eyes back at her. “Would you stop? I told you, there’s no fucking way they hold you back!”
Lucas reached out to rub her shoulder. “There’s no way—not with Dustin promising literally every staff member that he’d make sure you were all caught up.”
El, on the other side of Mike, nodded. She, too, looked pretty. The summer sun had been kind to her, making her skin a soft caramel color and causing freckles to appear on her cheeks. Her hair had gotten lighter from the sun, making it shine gold in some spots when the sun hit it just right. He could see why Mike was so infatuated with his sister. She looked like sunlight, like the type of person who made everything else fade away when you looked at her.
“If they will let me start, they will let you.” She nodded once, like it would be spoken into existence because she said it.
Mike, laying back on his towel, black sunglasses over his eyes, shrugged as he tugged them up. “I will not be helping you.” He beamed at her.
Max flipped him off, even though a smile tugged at her lips. “Oh, fuck off, Mike. I’d ask for your help if I wanted to fail.”
“Weird, considering I have the second-highest GPA here.” Mike slipped his sunglasses back into place before laying back down.
Dustin sighed heavily. “Byers! You’re quiet today.”
Will tried to suppress a smile as Dustin plopped down beside him. “I’m quiet every day.” He pushed his own shoulder against Dustin’s.
“You are,” Lucas agreed as he squinted over at him. “But you’re quieter than usual.”
Will shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He did, though.
This summer had been rough.
He’d gotten spoiled by Mike’s constant attention last year.
By the ease of having Mike just two floors away.
By the fact that every time he had needed Mike, he had been right there.
Things were different now, though.
Maybe it was the fact that El was more readily accessible now than she had ever been before.
Maybe it was the fact that it was the closest Mike had ever come to really losing El.
Maybe it was just… growing up.
It didn’t matter, really, which one it was.
He missed Mike all the same.
“Was that asshole Chance giving you a hard time?” Max glared. “I saw him talking to you yesterday at Melvald’s. Was he being a dick to you? Say the word, I’ll beat his ass.” From the look on her face, she meant every word.
Will paused as he thought back on it. Had Chance been a dick to him? He didn’t think so. It had been strange, though. His mother had been back at Melvald’s ever since they reopened, and Will had been itching to get out of the house, so when he saw that she’d forgotten her lunch, he had jumped at the chance to bring it to her—especially since they were finally in biking distance to things around town. His intention had been to drop off the lunch, then bike to the radio station to see Robin and Steve before he had to go home.
But that had been derailed when Chance Myers—a boy Will didn’t really know well, except that he was on the same basketball team as Lucas and had the prettiest blue eyes Will had ever seen—(but not as pretty as Mike’s eyes; nothing ever compared to those, as much as he wished someone’s would)—had stopped him on the way out.
“You go to my school, right?” he had grinned down at Will. He was taller by a few inches, with cropped brown hair and a sweet smile. Will wasn’t sure if he was talking to him until the boy stepped closer. “Will Byers, right?”
“Oh—uh. Yeah.” Will nodded as he stuck his hand out for the other boy to shake. “I mean, most people still call me Zombie Boy. But, I mean, I prefer Will.”
Chance had stiffened for a moment. He squeezed Will’s hand slowly as he shook it. “People still call you that? Seriously? That’s so fucked up.”
Will had shrugged as he tucked his hands back into his pockets. “I mean—it’s fine. I’ve been dealing with it for years, you know? It’s… well, it’s not my favorite nickname, but I’ve been called worse.”
Chance smiled down at him, and Will was positive he imagined the way Chance gazed at his lips. He had to be. People like Chance didn’t spare a glance at Zombie Boys.
“I think I’ll stick with Will.” He sighed as he looked down at his wrist. “I better go. My mom’ll freak if I’m not home soon.” He stopped before he smiled at him again. “I hope to see you soon, Will Byers.”
It had been strange, having someone he didn’t even know look so excited at the prospect of seeing him again. If Will hadn’t known better, he’d have thought the other boy was being more than friendly. But he’d long given up on finding someone like him in Hawkins.
“Will?” Mike nudged him. “Hey.” His voice softened. “You okay? You spaced out for a second. Was that jackass giving you a hard time?”
Will’s eyes flicked over to Mike, allowing himself to take him in for the first time today. Mike looked beautiful. His pretty brown eyes were hidden behind his dark sunglasses, and his inky curls had grown out, clinging to the sweat on his neck. He was wearing a pair of obnoxiously yellow swim shorts and a gray tank top, with a hideous fluorescent green button-up thrown over it. Will still thought he was the most handsome boy in the world, though.
“He was fine.” Will finally tried to smile. “He was nice.”
Mike still scowled, eyebrows tugging down in suspicion. “He didn’t say anything to you?”
Will shook his head. “No. Nothing weird, anyway.”
Mike scowled before he turned to Lucas. “Make sure you tell your friend to knock it off.”
Lucas rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up. “Man, would you chill? Chance isn’t an asshole just because he’s a jock, you know. Besides, if Will said he’s being nice, then he’s being nice.”
Mike grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus. Excuse me for caring about some asshole being mean to our friend.”
Will remembered, vaguely, when he and Mike had been best friends. A team. A duo. He had thought after defeating Vecna, they’d have stayed that way. But all Mike ever seemed to call him these days was his friend. He wondered if that would ever stop stinging.
“Max and I are going on a walk,” Lucas declared as he helped Max to her feet.
Dustin made a face. “This is supposed to be group bonding, Lucas!”
But Lucas ignored him as he and Max walked off, laughing quietly to themselves. Will didn’t have to be a genius to know that it would mean Mike and El would be off next.
No sooner had he thought it, Mike was faking a yawn. “You know, I’m going to fall asleep if we stay laying here, El. You wanna go on a walk?”
She blinked slowly, but a smile grew across her face as she understood what Mike was telling her. She began to nod before she paused and turned back to Will. “Will?” She frowned, looking almost guilty. “You do not mind?”
“Of course he doesn’t!” Mike squawked in indignation.
Will reached over him to squeeze her wrist. “You’re fine. Really. Go have fun. If I get bored, I’ll walk home.”
That, though, made Mike pause. “No way! It’s too dangerous, man. I drove you here—I can drive you home—”
“Would you both chill?” Dustin waved a hand lazily. “I’m right here. If Will wants to leave, I’ll drive him home—”
“No, it’s fine, actually, I’ll make sure he gets home—”
“Mike.” Will tilted his head toward his friend. “It’s fine. Dustin can drive me home. You and El go do… whatever you’re doing.”
He didn’t read into the way Mike scowled or the way his shoulders slumped before he helped El to her feet. “Fine, then,” he muttered. “See you guys later.”
They sat in silence as they watched Mike walk off with El, one arm wrapped around her dainty shoulders. It was weird how fragile his sister looked when he knew she was anything but.
When they were out of sight, Dustin collapsed back on his towel. “Jesus Christ. What crawled up his ass and died?”
Will shrugged as he laid back and looked up at the sky. “Who knows? You know Mike.”
“Yeah, he’s moody as hell. Like, what the hell? We’re on summer break! We don’t have to worry about the Upside Down!” Dustin turned to grin at him. “This is our summer, Will. I can fucking feel it.”
“You always say that.” Will sighed but grinned anyway. It was infectious, Dustin’s optimism.
“And I’m usually right!” Dustin grinned. “I mean, Max and Lucas and Mike and El are absolutely going to be ditching us this summer. You know that, right?”
“I didn’t actually expect anything different.” Will tucked his arms behind his head and enjoyed the warmth of the sun.
“Well, it’s horseshit!” Dustin declared. “Horseshit, William! I’m having traumatic flashbacks to the summer of ’85—”
“So am I. Mostly of you singing—”
“Do not,” Dustin huffed, “finish that fucking sentence. We are not speaking about it. Ever. Never.”
“Ending storyyyyyyy,” Will sang, off-beat and out of tune as he laughed.
Dustin reached over to flick him in the middle of the forehead. “It’ll be me and you this summer, asshole. And because I am a top-tier friend—you’re welcome, by the way—I have secured us jobs working at the radio station this summer!”
Will opened an eye to peer at him. Dustin’s curls were sticking to his forehead under his hat, and he looked ridiculous in his Hawkins High gold T-shirt and gym shorts. “You got us jobs?”
“I told you, buddy!” Dustin leaned back beside him. “You and me this summer. This is going to be our summer.”
Will wondered if he was right.
Maybe it would be their summer.
Maybe this summer wouldn’t be like the summer of ’85.
It would be better.
Because he definitely hadn’t had Dustin that summer.
"Yeah," he echoed as he grinned back at him. "This is our summer."
Dustin beamed, brighter than the sun above them. "Operation: Best Summer Ever is officially a go!")