Work Text:
Mike has spent the last twenty four hours - almost exactly - pacing the lengths of his basement while he contemplates the new information that had been dropped into his lap unceremoniously by none other than Max Mayfield. At work, he might add.
Mike doesn’t even remember what they had been talking about before Will came up in conversation and everything about his world had tilted dangerously off kilter.
“Are you really that stupid?!” Max had chidded him at the end of her shift; she grabbed her skateboard from her work locker and tucked it under her arm.
“What are you talking about?” Mike had asked incredulously, eyebrows raised into his hairline.
“Dude, Will has been in love with you longer than I’ve even known you guys. Mike, you really can’t be so dense that you didn’t know. He literally told you how he felt when he came out to everyone.” Max closed her locker with a clang, and turned to stare judgingly in his direction.
“He–wait–he…what?!” Mike stared back at the fiery haired girl before him with confusion and disbelief playing openly across his face.
Max was quiet for a moment; she studied Mike’s face carefully before she spoke again, softer this time, “You really didn’t know, did you?”
Mike’s mouth opened and closed silently a few times, trying to make sense of the information that was now cycling at hyper-speed through his brain. “He–Will was…in love with me?” Mike simply could not wrap his head around that fact.
Max shrugged as she turned to leave the break room, “Still is, I’m pretty sure.” She threw Mike a sly grin and a wink before rushing out the door, “See ya Sunday, Wheeler.”
Mike stood in shock and contemplation for a long moment before his boss yelled that his break was over and to get back to work. The rest of his shift was a write off, mind swirling with this new information: Will Byers loves me back.
He paces back and forth across the basement so many times he’s convinced he’ll wear right through the carpet. Mike can’t remember the last time he was truly happy. Maybe the summer of ‘83, before…well before everything. Before Will was taken and they found Eleven in the woods. Before Vecna tried to ruin their lives; ruin all of humanity. Even though he ripped through the fabric of reality, even though he stole Will from them - from Mike - time and time again, even though he took Mike’s sister, tried to take his entire family, they had finally defeated him; Will and El at the helm. Together. Yes, Vecna didn’t necessarily ruin their lives, but he did leave scars on everything and everyone in Hawkins. Nothing really remained untouched. Nothing could ever be the same after what the Party went through; what the town went through. Everything had changed, everyone had changed. Mike had changed.
Well, maybe Mike hadn’t truly changed so much as he had realized things about himself that he kept buried before. Buried in the deepest, darkest pit that he could hide it in. And that scared him; scared the absolute shit out of him. Sometimes he thinks it would have been better if El hadn't saved him that time he jumped from the edge of the quarry where they thought Will had died. Sometimes that thought comforts him - imagining hitting the water, everything simply ending.
At this point he couldn’t even remember a time where he wasn’t hiding from himself. The hatred and despair that came with hiding from oneself - from everyone - dug its sharp talons into Mike’s very soul. The sadness and hopelessness that turned him numb to almost everything. Everything except that one boy, with soft hazel eyes and a messy bowl cut, who could see right into the deepest depths of Mike’s heart; those eyes that could make Mike melt, that soft voice that could make everything else fade away. But those are the feelings that Mike has tried to push into that pit for so many years. Those feelings are dangerous. Or were dangerous. But how dangerous could they really be if Will truly loved him back?
Loving Will this way doesn’t scare Mike. Not now that he has sat with that fact bouncing around in his head since Will stood in the MAC-Z, making burning eye contact with Mike across the endless void between them; wiping blood from his nose. The awareness of loving Will actually makes him giddy with joy. With happiness. For the first time in so long. What scares him is what it means in the grand scheme of things, what it means for his future. Mike had fought so hard to be normal - to be the perfect son, the perfect friend, the perfect boyfriend to El. Mike has spent every waking moment for years playing the part; or at least trying to play the part. Maybe he doesn’t have to pretend anymore. That thought terrifies him to no end, but with Will by his side, he could do it. He could finally be honest with himself, with everyone. For himself. For Will.
When Will had come out to everyone at The Squawk, when he had said “I know they’re not like me” Mike never in a million years thought that sad, sweet boy could be talking about him. And the festering pit of his own beat down feelings that had been settled in his stomach for years grew and rose in his throat, and tried to choke him while he watched Will sob and wring his hands together. He watched Will suffer once again at the hands of Vecna, and all Mike could do was watch as his friends engulfed Will in hugs and words of affirmation. All Mike could do was sit there on that couch, eyes to the floor, while those feelings festered inside of him. How could he feel so wrong, when loving Will felt so right.
Now Mike stands on the Byers’ front stoop shivering in the cold December night, just over twenty four hours since Max had dumped this new information on him. He knocks softly on the Byers’ front door, fingers cold and stiff from the bike ride over here. It’s late and he isn’t sure who might answer the door at this time of night. He knows someone is awake in the living room by the faint glow of the tv through the sheer curtains. Mike expects Hopper, maybe Jonathan. He’s surprised when it’s Will who answers the door. Mike can now hear the faint drone of whatever movie is playing inside drifting out into the night. He barely registers it as his eyes roam over the boy in front of him, soaking him in; the boy who is bathed in golden light from the front porch lamp. Ethereal.
“Mike?” Will’s eyebrows quirk towards his hairline, and he asks in a voice laced with worry, “It’s late, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“Will.” Mike breathes relief into the cold night air, the visible puff of his breath pooling in the space between them. He doesn’t stop to think too hard about what he’s about to say - he knows if he does he’ll end up screwing it all up. “I have had countless times to tell you how I feel before now, and I never did; I was an idiot before, but I’m not scared anymore. When I broke my arm when we were 11 and you stuck by my side until my cast was on and the pain meds had kicked in. I wouldn’t let anyone sign my cast until you did first. I should have told you then–”
“Mike? What are you talking about?” Will cuts him off breathlessly, a confused glint in his eyes.
Mike doesn’t stop talking, if he does he’s going to throw up, “–When your mom and Hop brought you back from the Upside Down in ‘83 and Lucas, Dustin, and I came to see you that first night in the hospital? I didn’t say it then, but I should have. I remember leaning my head against your chest just to make sure your heart was still beating - that you were really alive, really here. I should have told you in that shed when the Mind Flayer was controlling you. I should have said something, anything, before you left for Lenora. I should have fucking told you in that god damn pizza van in the middle of the dessert. So many other times since then. But I never had the words; I didn’t even know what I was feeling back then. What I am feeling, what I do feel for you: I love you, Will, I’m in love with you. And I never had the strength to tell you until now; I was so scared of what it would mean if I admitted it to myself, to you. But I love you, Will Byers. More than words could ever describe. I could spend my whole life trying - god knows I’ll try.”
Mike stands, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. Will’s mouth is agape in shock? Horror? Mike doesn’t know. Maybe Max was wrong. His chest is tight, and he’s struggling to remember how to breathe. He can feel his entire world shattering around him for the second time in twenty four hours - has he missed his chance? Was he too late? Always too late…
“Mike.” Will speaks with such breathless emotion that Mike’s heart splits right down the middle and sunlight pours into his chest. That festering pit begins to die in the light that’s now expanding through his entire body.
“Mike, you–” Will stops and blinks tearily at the boy on his doorstep. The boy who was so brave in speaking his feelings, because god knows that Will would have never spoken so directly about how he feels for Mike, how he’s always felt for Mike. Will could tell Mike through sketches and paintings, through shared glances and brushes of the elbow. He could even reduce the other boy to ‘just a crush’ when he had to, but he wouldn't risk being so openly honest if it meant he could lose Mike forever. The other boy looks so scared and hopeful standing out in the cold on the Byers’ front stoop. The boy that Will had dreamt would say those three words to him, but never believed he would do it in a million years. Never dreamed Mike capable of reciprocating his feelings. Yet here he is, in the middle of the night in December, baring it all to Will.
Will reaches out and grabs Mike’s cold hand, pulling him into the house and closing the door quietly behind them. Will doesn’t say a word more, just tucks the other boy - flushed from the cold - into his arms against his chest and nestles into his neck. He wraps one arm tightly around Mike’s waist to pull him close, and the other moves up to card his fingers gently through those soft dark curls at the nape of his neck, damp from the snow. He’s waited years to be able to touch Mike like this.
“You never have to be scared, I promise. I’ve always loved you, Mike Wheeler.”
Mike finally remembers how to breathe and he relaxes against Will. He slides his arms around Will’s waist as he clutches desperately at the t-shirt the other boy is wearing, a silent tear leaking from his eyes. Will shivers as Mike’s cold body envelops him through his thin layers, but it only encourages him to pull Mike closer, tighter.
“I love you.” Mike whispers against Will’s skin.
“And I love you.” Will whispers back, a smile in his voice.
Mike’s mind quiets for the first time in ages. It feels so right to be wrapped in each other’s embrace like this. Mike doesn’t even remember why he spent so long being scared of these feelings when everything about loving Will is so easy. Loving each other is so easy, and they can figure everything else out, together.
END