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The world around Mike was quiet, adjusted to the rhythm of Wills breathing on the other side of the room. The silence was heavy on his chest, his thoughts gnawing on his insides, leaving him feeling sick. Nothing made sense. No matter how hard he tried to understand, he just couldn’t. There was something wrong with him, he was sure of that. He just couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, every time he thought he was close, it slipped off from his hands.
He wished Will would hug him right now, like when he himself did when Will needed comfort as children. Mike felt useless, not knowing what was happening, his breathing shallow and unsteady.
Eleven broke up with him. He should be concerned. Sad. Maybe heartbroken? But he didn't feel that. He didn't feel… anything. Only a turmoil in his head, trying to bring up something that he apparently wasn't ready for, because it wouldn't appear from all of the fog that covered all of his thoughts. It all had to make sense, but not for Mike. Not yet.
He shuffled in his bed nervously. Mike mostly didn't really care for relationships after El broke up with him. He saw couples around him, just passing them by and not paying attention to them. The desire of being loved always came to him when he was around Will. Like the boy was made of it, letting everyone see the essence, but never letting them taste it. It was torture for Mike.
Mike often finds himself wishing to hold the boy's hand. Or shuffle just a bit closer, so their knees would brush. He always cared what Will had to say more than anyone else. He didn't feel like towards his other friends, but that was okay. Will wasn't just his friend. Will was his best friend, right? It was how he was supposed to feel.
He stared at the ceiling wondering. Did he ever feel like that towards El?
Probably not. But that's normal. After all, El wasn't his best friend. She was his girlfriend. He was supposed to be able to know that it was a different feeling than what he felt towards his best friend, obviously.
Maybe she was his girlfriend, but they knew each other shorter than Mike knew Will. It made sense their bond wasn't as special. At least Mike hoped it did.
But now she wasn't a girlfriend. There was no clear line between her and the rest of the party. She was his friend, just like Dustin, Lucas, Max and Will. Why didn't he feel anything as strongly as when he was next to Will?
There would be one explanation, but no– No.
But what if?
Could he love Will?
“Okay, no thats so fucking stupid–” he tried to push the thought at the back of his head. He even argued with himself, making a whole debate between the voices in his head.
But no matter how hard he wanted to cover up the truth, it has been crystal clear right now. He didn’t see Will as just a friend. Mike saw him as something more.
It all clicked. The shared looks, his heart stuttering every time Will looked at him, or hugged him, or even brushed Mike’s arm with his own.
Mike knew it was bad; really, really bad. What would his parents said? Only if they knew… Mike's life would be hell.
He already imagined how the conversations would go. Yelling. Tears. Probably some slurs, maybe a disownment on his father’s side, a guilty look on his mother’s face, letting him know that she was disappointed in him. He wasn’t sure, it could be everything. Mike's parents were unpredictable in their obvious hateful response towards the feelings that he seemed to carry all the way long.
On the other hand, admitting this to himself felt freeing. Like talking off a bag full of rocks that he had all the way through, not even feeling it on his back, not even realizing that something was slowing him down. It was like a deep breath after almost drowning.
The tears came out quickly, staining his pillow. Mike choked down the sobs, putting another pillow over his mouth. He felt the need to scream. To do something. The world was too quiet, too steady, too sure. It was standing in place when Mike wanted it to move, to do something. To tell him that what he felt was wrong, to yell, to scold him for being a sinful son. But it was quiet. Accepting. The dark hid everything perfectly, accepting every sin committed in its gentle embrace. It gave you the comfort of nobody knowing. It choked you with your own silence, letting you bathe in your own mistakes. It didn't give you a solution, it just teased you with what could be.
And Mike let himself engage in the fantasy. A hand over his, gently lacing their fingers together. A gaze so full of adoration, so loving and emotional. A kiss on his forehead, a hushed promise of a better day. Something he could never achieve. Something that even in his fantasies seemed unreachable, like trying to find the beginning and ending of a circle.
A sob escaped his throat, an animal-like sound that he trapped in himself for so long.
Will, the light sleeper he was, whispered
“Mike?” His tone was careful, like Mike was something that would break even under the smallest amount of pressure, a porcelain doll that could never hit the ground without shattering.
Silence.
There was no way Mike could respond, not without making his feelings known, not without exposing his own little fucked up mind to the most important person of his life. He couldn't himself lose the bestest friend that he could ever get.
“Mike, are you okay?”
Another choked out sob that almost didn't make it to the surface, almost shoved down Mike's throat, unfortunately unsuccessfully.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Will's tone was getting less careful, more desperate to get to the seed of the problem that has been eating Mike. Little did he know that he was the problem, the thing that devoured Mike alive, biting off a little from his insides when he didn’t see, leaving the boy wondering why his body was falling apart.
“No” Mike could barely choke out the word that almost stopped in his throat, a weep escaping his mouth right after.
“What do you mean, no?” Will was very confused “You don't trust me?” The disappointment in his voice was almost physical.
“It's not– not that I don’t–” He couldn't catch his breath, stuttering over the simplest words. Get it together, he repeated to himself as he took a deep breath and continued “It’s not that I don’t trust you” Will shot up instantly, sitting on his mattress.
“Then why can't you tell me?” Will's voice was hurt. That's the last thing that Mike wanted. Shit, shit, shit, how do you take that back now?
“It’s just– You wouldn’t understand”
“Then try me!” The desperate tone of the boy cut through the air, leaving Mike confused. What should he do? Either thing he does, he’s hurting Will.
He might just do the good thing. Get rid of himself from Will's life. Do him a favour.
Will doesn't need a disgusting pervert lusting over him in secret, loving him the way that nobody in this world wanted to be loved. He doesn't need Mike in the same way a choking man needs air, while Mike felt like air was a privilege that only Will could offer.
A long, shaky “Okay” left his mouth as he sat down and pulled his knees to his chest, backing up on the wall behind him.
Will patiently waited, piercing through Mike with his gaze. His eyes were soft, glowing under the moonlight coming through the window, drowning his face in its white embrace.
“He wouldn’t be looking at you like that if he knew,” Mike thought, catching the hope that wanted to find its way to his heart, burning his insides on the way. He knew it only would leave him as ashes, ruined by the feeling that wasn't allowed, nor accepted in this world.
But he couldn't bring himself to hate the love he carried for Will. He deserved to be loved. Just not by him. Not this way.
Inhale. Exhale. It will be quick and easy. Like pulling off a bandaid.
“I think I might be in love with a boy.”
Silence. It physically hurt Mike, burning holes inside of his chest. He just revealed that he was a pervert to his best friend. Or ex best friend? He wasn't sure, but he didn't know if he was ready to be sure, because being sure could mean that he just lost the most important person in his life. Oh fuck.
Will's face relaxed quickly, leaving a small, empathetic smile tugging at his lips.
“That's fine” Will's tone was relieved, like a huge heaviness was taken off of his shoulders.
“Thats fine?” Mike's tone was a mockery, a muffled, bitter chuckle leaving his mouth right after. “Nothing of this is fine, Will! I'm disgusting. Aren't you disgusted?”
“No. Not really” he was stoic. Relaxed. So sure of his words, like he knew the pain. Like he understood. “I thought you were mad at me,”
Silence.
“Me too” Mike’s head shot up at the other boy's voice, confusion covering his whole face.
“You too what?”
“I also might be in love with a boy. I know… how it’s like” He danced around his words like the world would fall apart if he worded anything wrongly.
Mike was flabbergasted. He didn’t expect… that.
“What is he like?” his voice almost hopeful “The boy that you like. I mean–”
“He’s perfect.” Will started sweetly “ He always listened to me. Not always, but he used to. I feel like… we haven't been on the best terms lately” a deep sigh left his mouth.
“Is he like you? Like us?”
“Yeah, he… He is. But I didn't know that for a really long time. Maybe I'm getting too hopeful because of that. Maybe this will make it hurt even more”
“You know, you can always try. If you know that he can… potentially like you, what's the worst that can happen?” The words escaped Mike's throat too easily, like they were long picked out, waiting to be let out of Mike’s throat, slipping from his tongue like honey. The selfish part of him hoped he could be the one that Will adored. Another war started inside him, making his palms sweat.
The room fell quiet. Mike's thoughts started racing. He was afraid that his heart could fall out of his body with the pace that it was beating in, blood gushing in his ears.
After a couple of minutes he wanted to lay back down. Let himself fall asleep, let his mind convince him that it was all a dream, an image of his sick, twisted desires that he had no right acting upon. Just as he forced his body to move, he heard rustling of Will's sheets and a squeak of the old, wooden floor, signaling that the boy stood up.
His footsteps were the loudest thing Mike has ever heard, each one heavy with everything that was just about to unfold, and all the things they already revealed.
When he realised his eyes were shut so tightly that it hurt him, making colorful spots appear in his vision, he felt the mattress sink right next to him. Before he could open his eyelids, he felt a pair of lips on his own, opening his eyes instantly.
He was met with Will gently catching his mouth in an embrace. It was unsure, unsteady and nervous. Barely a brush, almost out of reach, but so real at the same time.
Mike froze. Was this a sick joke that the universe made to see him suffering later, realising that it was all just his fantasy? Because there was no way he could live normally while remembering this moment, looking in Will’s eyes without admitting all of the hidden things he felt when he saw him.
But no, it was real– he realized that after he lost contact with Will, listening to his rushed apologies.
“God, I'm so, so sorry. I just thought that– and you said that I should try– It was stupid, I shouldn't assume that just because you like boys you would like me–” He was cut off with a pair of lips capturing his own in a hurried kiss, like he couldn't stand another word of apology from the boy's mouth.
The kiss wasn't perfect. It was messy, unsure and confusing, all of the things they were feeling now pouring out of their mouths in a beautiful dance to the music that definitely didn't fit. It was enough. It was all it needed to be– a silent confirmation of what they both couldn't figure out.
The feeling was set in stone now. Mike was sure that he wanted to be kissed by Will until his lips were still working, until his breath continued. It's the only thing he can be sure about right now.
They broke out, their breaths shaky. Mike captured Will in a tight hug, still subconsciously scared that this isn’t real. That he’ll wake up soon, finding Will on the other side of the room, having to deal with not only the feelings for his friend but also a taste of what he could never have, a bitter tang on his tongue.
He already felt how it is to be loved by Will, and now he was sure he couldn't live without it.
The tears came, but none of the boys tried to hold them back. They knew they were safe, holding each other like they never could in the light of day.
“I’m so sorry, Will” his shaky, unsteady voice filled the air.
“ I love you, Mike” Will whispered to his ear, striking his back, trying to comfort the other boy.
Mike felt like all of the air was taken from his lungs, a sharp pain tugging in his chest. He froze, and after a second broke down in the other boy's arms, sobbing, staining his shirt with tears that fell uncontrollably.
In any other circumstances, Mike would be embarrassed of his own vulnerability, of how deeply he felt. But he couldn’t care less, because Will loved him, and that meant everything.
No matter what his parents said, what his friends will say, no matter how society perceives him, Will didn’t hate him.
He loved him, and god, wasn’t that the best thing that ever happened to Mike.
“I love you too, Will,” he whispered, his voice unsure, but sincere. “I think it's the first time I feel something so strongly” Mike confessed, feeling Will's arms tighten around him.
“I’m scared,” he added, burying his face in the crook of Will's neck.
The boy brought his hand from Mike's back to his head, burying his fingers in the dark locks, chuckling sadly under his breath
“Me too. But at least we’re scared together, right?”
Mike let out a huff, muffled in Will's shirt, and Will felt a little smile coming up to his lips.
They weren't sure how this was going to work, but that didn't bother their minds at that moment. They held on to the thought of being loved, something none of them expected. And maybe they could be fine.