Chapter Text
Mike has been cursed with this…ability. It was something unlike no other, unfortunately taking over every aspect of his life.
His relationship with Will was, at the moment, unknown. They had been best friends since they were in kindergarten. Mike remembers the day when he sat down on the school swings, his feet dangling and swinging back and forth. He smiled at the boy next to him, who seemed to be lonely. He had this look on his face, one that was unmistakable as friendly. Kind. So, Mike did what any sensible kindergartner would do. He asked Will Byers to be his friend.
Throughout their elementary school days, Mike recalls the countless sleepovers and shared sunsets, board games and hang outs. They were always together, always Mike and Will. They compared each other's heights, their favorite colors, tastes in music…the list could be filled in a book. The two of them would bicker and fake argue about anything, always someone saying 'my opinion is better' as if that closed the case.
Then Dustin, Lucas, and Max entered his world, and at first it was all too much in middle school. He would hate to admit it, but he was jealous. So, so jealous and wanted Will all to himself. It was horribly wrong, he knew it from the very start. But a boy who's crazy will do crazy things, right? And sometimes he definitely felt like he lost his mind. Well, that is—until he found out he actually just had a crush on Will for as long as he could remember.
They were juniors in high school, twice their size and twice their age from where the group had begun. Mike's jaw still clenched when someone was getting too close to Will, and he still glares at Max when she asks to hang out with him. It's wrong, he still thinks. So why am I still like this?
A normal person, perhaps, would find a way to solve this issue. They would talk it out and properly communicate, maybe even finding a trusted adult to fill them in. They would find help and work it out, slowly getting better day by day. If it had gotten concerning, maybe that sane person would find a therapist. Mike Wheeler, is not, in fact, 'normal'. He is far, far from normal on this scale.
Instead, he suppressed it. All of his jealousy, rage, and burning desire had been crumpled up into a paper ball and thrown into a trash can. Except, this trash can became filled to the brim, and eventually was overflowing with these emotions. He'd toss and turn at night, hoping that these thoughts and memories would leave him. They did not.
And so, Mike had…uh, well, he turned into a vampire. Now, he thought that it doesn't seem to correlate correctly; however, it made a little sense. His obsession that sprouted like an overgrown weed in a garden had fully consumed him, until there was no choice but to let it out.
Mike couldn't hide any of it even if he tried. That morning when he woke up and sauntered into the bathroom, he pushed back his lips to reveal the fangs that had grown in. At first he wanted to scream and hope he was still back in his bed and this was all a dream. His next thought was maybe it would be kind of cool, and that chewing food would be easier.
All of his friends asked why his teeth had looked different. He told them they were prosthetics, and that he was just preparing for Halloween. Nobody bought it. Will was the first to question him after about a week.
He tossed his lunch tray on the table, sitting down straight across from Mike. His elbows rested on top of the lunch table, his eyes burning into Mike's face (to which he refused to meet Will's gaze).
"Mike," Will began, raising his eyebrows. "What's going on with you?" Mike shrugged in response, pushing around the green peas on his tray with a plastic fork.
"Nothing," He finally responded, clearing his throat. "I'm fine."
"Bullshit," Will countered immediately, leaning in. Dustin and Lucas sat beside them, quietly watching and choosing to let Will handle this argument. Mike finally let his eyes fall on Will, who was equally as daring to stare back.
"Yesterday I saw you visibly hiss at garlic bread at Dustin's house when his mom offered them to us. Nobody hisses at bread like that," Will spat out. It was like he was Sherlock Holmes hot on the tail of a confusing case.
Mike scoffed, his hands fidgeting underneath the table. He averted his gaze, focusing on the slab of substance the school calls meat on his tray. "So? I don't like garlic bread."
"Right, like that wasn't spontaneous." Will's eyes narrowed a little at Mike, and Dustin swallowed his food, nervously glancing between them. "Hey, guys. Maybe we should—"
"And another thing," Will grumbled (making Dustin throw up his hands in defense. 'Will's on a rant, he'll never listen to us,' he whispered to Lucas.), "Your skin is intensely pale and smooth." His face heated up after a moment. Will's voice came out in a mumbled defense as Mike's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "M-more than the average person's skin."
Lucas shook his head, and decided to interject this with his own opinion. "Woah. Okay, hold on." He took a bite of his burger, setting it back down on the tray. "It's not even noon yet. Can we have this conversation, maybe not in the middle of the lunchroom?" Dustin nodded eagerly beside him.
Will finally ripped his eyes off of Mike, turning to look at Lucas. He seemed to be contemplating this for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. He then let out a small sigh, nodded slowly. Mike relaxed a little at this, taking a bite of his sickly looking green peas. At least the fangs helped chew a little better.
A backpack thumped beside Lucas, making everyone at the table jump in their seats. Max sat down a less than delicate manner, her tray hitting the table with a loud clank.
"Woah, you all look grumpy. What'd I miss?" She asked in an annoyingly cheerful voice, however no response came when there was a beat of silence.
So, maybe hiding this inconvenience wasn't the easiest thing in the world. But he could lie for a little while, right? As long as Will doesn't figure out that Mike is a vampire. Although, he certainly already suspects it, and was severely concerned for him later on. Will would steal quick glances at him, and he started bouncing his knee more than he used to. But Mike didn't want to make him worry—actually, it was worse knowing that the worry was because of him.
So, how long could this go on for? Clearly not for longer than a week.
Oh, and Mike soon figured out his hunger for blood. It was especially prominent at night when he'd wake up in a huff, his teeth clenched with sweat slicking his forehead. That wouldn't cause any major problems in the immediate future, right?