Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“It's been a couple months
That's just about enough time
For me to stop crying when I look at all the pictures
Now I kinda smile, I haven't felt that in a while…

Memories—Conan Gray

Friday, December 14th, 1990

NEW YORK, NEW YORK

Will

Will Byers hadn't seen Mike Wheeler in a little over four months, and that was supposed to be a good thing.

It wasn't. Because Will wasn't that lucky.

In theory, the distance was meant to help—help him forget a love that had accompanied him all his life, help him learn how to want something else without losing what mattered most.

In reality, it just meant he was without his best friend, his safe place, his person.

He told himself this was helping, but avoiding Mike had been proving difficult. Too difficult. Because to Will, Mike was like two different people in his head that were intrinsically and inextricably woven together; his very best friend, and his crush of...well, his entire life. Both his childhood friend, and the boy he loved a condemning, burning amount.

Even if Will promised himself he would ignore the second version until it went away, the fact that they'd been attached at the hip since kindergarten remained. And therefore, Will still couldn't help missing him.

Then there was also the fact that avoiding Mike was nearly impossible, anyway. Because when Mike Wheeler loved someone, maybe he wasn't one to express it in words, but he certainly did so through actions. He missed Will too, as he continued to remind him, and never stopped calling, writing, asking to meet up.

And despite all this—despite how annoyingly hard it was to stay away—Will was managing. Sort of. But he was. Perhaps he hadn't made an impressive amount of progress in the two months he'd gone without answering Mike's calls, but he'd made some.

He was even proud of himself for it. For thinking about Mike slightly less often, for picturing his freckles, his smile, his curly black hair, his jokes a tad less each day.

And all it had taken was one phone call from Mike to undo all of it.

"Will?" Mike asked, interrupting his chain of thought.

Right. They were still on the phone. Had been for over an hour. On the call that had sent Will into this completely-and-absolutely-normal evening spiral.

"Sorry," he said, tucking his legs underneath him as he laid back against the headboard of his bed. He twiddled with the twisting cord of the phone on his nightstand. "I kinda zoned out..."

Mike's laugh sounded through the speaker against his ear. "I figured, 'cause you went silent for a while. Thought maybe you were bored of me."

"Never," he answered instinctively, then cleared his throat, regretting the speed at which he'd said it. "I— Uh, you know that'll never happen, Mike." It was true.

"I hope not," he said jokingly. "You're kinda stuck with me. Y'know, since we saved the world together and all..."

Will laughed, tilting his head back at the absolute joy of talking to Mike again. Because he hadn't heard Mike's voice like this in a long time—uninterrupted, just for him—and he'd almost begun to forget how nice it was. Almost. "Same goes for you."

A gasp. "You think I could get bored of my best friend?"

"We have been on the phone for an hour," Will offered. "My ear hurts."

"An hour? Really?" Mike asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "I could keep talking all night, dude. We're still on last month!"

Will laughed again. When Mike had called earlier that night, both a little awkward during the first few minutes, they'd realized they hadn't spoken in two months—a new record since so far, they'd never gone longer than a week. They'd decided to catch each other up on what had happened in their lives those past months, and clearly an hour had only been enough for one of them.

It wasn't that there was so much to tell, but rather that even the most normal and mundane things were interesting, both because college was a completely new thing they were experiencing very differently, and because missing out on anything in your best friend's life always feels...well, not great.

Like you're being left behind while they move forward. It was silly, of course, because—if anything—they were both moving forward, but they'd talked about it once or twice and clearly both felt the same.

"Yeah," Will said, throwing the covers over his legs when he felt the breeze pick up. He should've probably closed the window, but the loud, overlapping sounds of New York City traffic were always an enjoyable background.

It was the silence that unnerved him; that gave him nightmares.

"I still haven't told you about what Jake left on the floor," he added.

"Ugh," Mike said, and Will could practically picture him rolling his eyes. He hated Jake, Jonathan and Will's roommate, with a burning passion. "Please tell me it wasn't something disgusting. I literally just ate dinner."

"Okay," Will smiled.

"I hear silence, which I will take as confirmation," Mike said. "That guy pisses me off. Why can't he abide by normal human decency? Or shared-apartment rules?"

Will shook his head, even though he couldn't see him. "He's staying at Catherine's tonight, at least. So, I'm happily Jake-free."

"Thank God," he said. "Poor Catherine, though. I don't know her personally but my condolences. How does she put up with him?"

"I have no idea," he laughed. Then, he looked back at the window. It was snowing. And the temperature was quickly dropping even more. He stood to close the window now, maneuvering the cord of the phone so it wouldn't trip him. If there was one thing Will hated more than deafening silence, it was bone-chilling cold. Avoidance-wise, New York was great for one of them. The other, not so much.

He stopped to look down at the street below. Yellow taxis sped by, white already gathering on their hoods, even at this hour of the night, approaching midnight. Will was still getting used to the commotion of such a big and busy city after growing up in small, insignificant Hawkins, Indiana, but he knew that he liked it.

"Will?" Mike asked then, and Will returned to his warm, cocooned spot on the bed.

"What's up?"

There was silence for a beat. Two. Three. "I... I miss you."

"I miss you too, Mike," he said, chest warming. "Is everything okay?"

"What, I can't just tell my best friend I miss him?"

Will rolled his eyes at the obvious deflection. "Of course you can. Is everything okay?" he repeated anyway.

Mike sighed. "Yeah. Everything's okay. I was just thinking...it's December."

"Yes..."

"Winter Break's in a few days, and I was thinking we could meet up. It's been a while."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess it has been," he said, and it came out dubious. But Will knew quite well that it had been a while. Four months and two days. Not that he was counting. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking New York, actually."

"Woah," Will choked—on his own saliva; how was that possible?—and held the phone as far away from his face as possible, hoping Mike didn't hear his stupid intakes of air,  before bringing it back to his ear. "N- New York?"

"Yes, silly," Mike laughed. "That's what I said. I mean...you've been there for a year and we still haven't visited. We just always meet up back at Hawkins, or at Dustin's. Or, that one weekend, even at Lucas and Max's. Point is, you always come to us, and it's due time we came to you. "

Right. Of course. 'We'. Will shook his head. Silly indeed.

He toyed with the curling phone cord between his fingers, heartbeat erratic. This... This wouldn't help with Will's plan. At all. Like, the plan was literally to avoid Mike. Not spend Christmas and New Years with him.

But could Will say no?

Nope.

His mouth opened before he could think this through, clearing his throat. "Right. Yeah, you guys should totally come visit, then. Have you talked to the rest?" Shit.

"Not yet," Mike said. "Thought I'd ask you first, since it's your place and all."

"Oh. Yeah." Will was clearly still recovering.

"I'd, uh, have to call the guys and Max and ask when they'd be able to. And, y'know, figure out the details..."

"Of course," Will said, but his own body betrayed him; the excitement was already sparking in his chest. He would see them again. See Mike.

He was torn between hating this, and...really fucking loving it.

"But aside from that," Mike added, "I think you can put it down in your calendar, Sorcerer."

Will was glad Mike wasn't present to see his blush. Because duh. He laughed, trying to calm his stupid, speeding heart. "You don't even have a date yet," he said.

"You're right," Mike agreed. "Just reserve the entire three weeks of Winter Break, then. Don't make any other plans. Tell Jake you're mine, no stealing."

Fuck.

Mike could be really dense with his wording sometimes. And he was a writer, for God's sake. It was unbelievable.

Will cleared his throat, but there was no stopping his heart now. He wouldn't be surprised if Mike could hear it through the phone.

"I— I wasn't planning on hanging out with Jake, either way. So...you can relax, Paladin." There. He could call him nicknames too and be totally cool about it. Totally.

Although Mike had called him 'Sorcerer', not 'Cleric'. But Will wasn't about to call him 'Heart' like a lovesick idiot, so Mike would need to settle with his regular ol' D&D Class.

"Good," Mike said. "I guess that was what I wanted to ask."

"If you could come visit me?" Will frowned. "Mike, you do not need to ask. You guys are always welcome. I thought that was obvious."

"No, I know," Mike said. But did he? "I just... Want this to work out. The Party hasn't gathered since the summer. It's been way too long."

"Agreed," Will said, yawning. Oops. Guess he was more tired than he thought. It was probably past midnight by now, but time with Mike went by both so quickly and so excruciatingly slow for Will, it was almost paradoxical. What it was consistently, though, was fun. That had never changed, not since that very first day on the swings.

"You're tired," Mike said. It wasn't a question. "I'll hang up now, so you can get some sleep. Wouldn't want Jake to come back with his shit-talking while you're still awake—it'll ruin your night."

Will laughed despite himself. "It's fine, Mike, I'm not that—"

"Will."

"Fine," he sighed. "As long as you promise to call back tomorrow."

"Deal," Mike said, then chuckled. "Although I was already planning to."

"Oh. Right, to tell me what you guys agreed on."

"Yeah. Clearly your brain needs some sleep."

"Rude," he said, but couldn't help yawning again, and Mike's soft laugh resounded in response.

"Alright, sleepyhead," he said. "Talk tomorrow."

"Talk—" another yawn, "tomorrow."

One more laugh—incentive for Will's speeding heart—and then Mike hung up.

And, just like that, Will's plan had gone to shit.

But of course it had.

This was how it always happened. Mike asked, and Will said yes.

And now...he was going to spend his entire Winter Break stuck in the same apartment as him.

Shit. Shit. Shit.