Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Mike Wheeler didn't like birthdays.

Or at least, he used to like it back when he was a little boy — who wouldn't anyways? When he was younger, everything was more simple and free and deliberately him; the parties would just be him and his family.. and his best friend with his family, by his house with a little Dungeons and Dragons themed celebration.

This would slowly grow once they made newer friends but nothing would've changed between him and his best friend, they'd still be the same characters – But then Mike changed his name to be Sir Michael Circul for the sake of a new game changer in the party – it still felt fun and he was with their newer friends, Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson and it was perfect. The party still felt perfect.

Those two were a set of best friends too, and it didn't take long for their friend group to merge when they joined the same club and learned that they had shared interests, leading to them now being together, still talking about the campaigns they had.. in his campaign themed party with everyone dressed up.

That was something that seemed small for most, but a core part of his childhood that made him wish that everything was still the same as it was all those years ago. But.. then years happened, and the fight between them and Vecna crossed through.

With Jane already gone.. and everyone slowly moving away to their own lives once they graduated, suddenly all the things they shared were just taken through memories and 'Remember when's. What hurted the most was that his best friend, whom he thought would never be distant.. did exactly that.

Which is why in this horrid 28th birthday of his, he was stuck with a party he didn't exactly favour. Of all of the parties he had, this might've been the worst – started the worst, and will end the worst.

He didn't like the way his coworkers celebrated them all loud and messy, usually involving too much tequila that it would feel nothing but a regular visit to the gay bar they'd pull him too because they wanted to quote on quote, "help him try to finally stop moping around about his relentless childhood man-crush and start finding a man that'll change his mind and fix his thoughts".

It didn't really work, and he would find himself passing down offers to even the hottest and prettiest guys from the bunch – whether it was because he wasn't interested, or he was just too distracted by the beautiful drag queen that would always stay around the stage with her presence, barely speaking but noticeable.

Missus Magica, he remembered her name whenever she walked around the crowded areas of the bars they would go to – not exactly this one, but another few closer to their apartment building – and she would manage to give a big smile towards everyone, her fierce aura striking even if he was just a bystander from afar.

So the chance of seeing her was something he wished would be a perfect chance for his birthday, something that would make it worth the while. Please be here.

He couldn't even imagine admitting to Will or anyone else from his childhood that he liked a drag queen – or felt admiring of their confidence, yes – nor even went to gay bars like these, but.. it was tempting to do so.

But tonight felt like a different one, whereas they booked a table by Neon Dreams, a low-key gay bar his coworker suggested – and was an avid guest here – that was tucked into the East Village of Manhattan where the lights pulsed like hearts beating together and the music never stopped until the break of dawn.

He pretended to stay casual, rolling his eyes at the neon signs outside that he knew of very well, but inside he was feeling the brimming anticipation. He knew who probably performed here, and seen her glittering under the spotlight with a commanding presence on the stage, her voice meshed with the music that it wasn't as audible.. but tried to slice through the bass. His secret obsession.

"Happy birthday, Wheeler!"

One of his coworkers shouted once more as the others did the same, shoving the shot glass into his hand almost too quickly. They seemed to finally remember that this was a birthday celebration and not the regular visits, cheering around with the crowd.

He took the glass and downed it immediately, feeling the flowing burn that sharply surfaced around him, barely giving any reaction when he was pulled towards the dancefloor.

"We got a surprise for you, I'll bet my twenty dollars that you'll like it." His somewhat friend, Martin, exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows when he brought him further to the area, pushing away from some guys that were making out – the atmosphere already booming with excitement.

Mike looked around, trying to take off the half mask he had on – feeling hands stop him as if what he was doing was a crime. He could've sworn they called him a quote party pooper unquote and then threw in an oversized birthday cake hat to cover his head like he was some sort of signal tower of attention.

"Huh? What–" He couldn't help but flush with embarrassment when some of the dudes here eyed him closely, scoffing with amusement. Okay, maybe he shouldn't be going into gay bars anymore – he isn't even gay; he's dragged around by his friends and has been because they were lonely and needed another person for their quartet because Kyle left them.

And liking— no, admiring a drag queen, for better term.. was something that wasn't gay.

That was just an appreciation of confidence and that he is one of the few people in the world that agrees towards men being whatever they wanted to be just as how women could do whatever they wanted. He knew his best friend would've done the same, and had the same situation– so hypothetically, he would apply it to everyone else.

Before he could continue sulking about his best friend and how they practically drifted apart even if they pinky promised all those years ago in sandboxes that they wouldn't dare leave each other behind without another word – the DJ stopped the music and the spotlight went to his direction making him freeze with fright.

Okay. He thought, seeing everyone staring at him like he was the odd one out here– Which, technically he was. He was a scam! A fake!

"This one's also dedicated for you, Happy Birthday to Michael, who's definitely going to open his eyes once we rock his world!" He could hear how the disc scratched before what once was a remix of Madonna's Vogue changed to a familiar song, "So let's..—"

"..hit me baby one more time."

The crowd started chanting along with their hands raised up in the air, dancing freely as if this was the last time they could do it. And then the spotlight started cutting through the haze from him towards the covered doorway by the little stage.

Mike checked the giant neon blue clock from afar. It was already time.

Beautiful dark purple sequins caught the light easily without effort, and slowly shown someone with a witches' hat hovering their face, until placed away showing perfectly curled dark brown hair teased nearly into a halo-like bun – hazel green eyes stared back and him and lips that painted crimson red.

It was her.

Missus Magica. And she was slowly stepping into the spotlight and owning it, every movement deliberate and every glance magnetic as if it was taking you to a trance.

It was like she knew the power she had– and used it wisely.

He loved how beyond the layers of makeup and articles of clothing, he could see somethings that not that many people could even sense: There were little tributes to Dungeons and Dragons – even if he wasn't sure if she was the one who chose it or that maybe it was the artist behind it – but he has been seeing frequent easter eggs in her style and her performances that it was amazing.

That was one of the many things that he liked about this Missus Magica. She had a style that he can know pretty well like a little secret that was shared between them, and it was pretty rare.

She, or well, the artist behind it must've been some sort of D&D nerd if it meant to keep her reputation as a witch — Cause honestly? He was already spelled.

Mike could feel himself freeze, staring at her with his drink forgotten in his hand. He couldn't even find himself looking away.

She looked beautiful, her makeup was bundled up in a more mysterious vibes – she had this nice flair that wasn't too bold but was still just as amazing as the rest, making it up with how extravagant her sparkly attire and finishing touches whether it was the eyeshadow, lipgloss, blush and just the entirety of her clothing. She always shone.

The purple cloak-like cover looked good on her, except he sort of preferred the golden touches that she would wear usually. But today was different, and a good different nonetheless. And when she took it off to show her dress? He felt starstruck.

Was that gay to like someone dressed up in feminine clothing? He thought, still locked eyes with her beyond the wolf whistling and cheers of triumph from the men – like they won during a battle or something. It can't be, I just like girls, Missus Magica looks like a girl.

He used to believe that she reminded him of Jane back in the day, but he found himself wrong. That was just one glance. But now with the hundreds of stolen ones he took, he realized something; she looked like Will.

Will would suit this theme perfectly, and would definitely kill this though. He smiled at the idea forming in his head, thinking of how his best friend would do the exact same thing even if the starking similarity just by meeting her eyes was.. eerily enough to speculate that something was there.

He pinched himself before thinking further on his fantasies. Wait what– why would I think that way? That's so fucking weird!

Missus Magica strutted across the stage with her voice raised through the speakers. He tried to hear it, silently wondering whether this was her actual voice or was she forcing it to something more.. light and squeaky to appease the audience. Maybe not.

"Tonight, we celebrate life, love, and a very special birthday boy," The crowd roared and Mike's coworkers shoved him forward near the stage, laughing. He gulped, already realizing what surprise they gave him the moment he was pulled on stage.

He stumbled forward with red cheeks, bowing his head down as if ashamed to be seen here. What if someone that didn't know or expect him to be here would see him here? Like someone horrible like Troy Walsh – his former bully, or maybe some douchebag accomplice like Chance Perez?

"I heard there's a birthday celebrant here, little birdie told me about it.." Missus Magica leaned down to his level, the tall height of her pump heels making her seem taller.

Placing a hand underneath his chin, she tried to draw him upwards with a raised brow when he didn't dare look up. "Michael, was it?"

Mike tried to hide his face like as if he was still the shy boy all those years ago.

Taking this as a moment of privacy for the birthday celebrant, she accepted his wishes and continued the show.

"Well, well, well then, Michael." She purred by the microphone she was holding, voice catching the lilt of her voice. "You're mine tonight, let's have some fun together."

Mike froze, barely hearing the sound of her voice but the look in her eyes were so alluring that it made him feel like he was under her spell. This was so weird, this.. this might actually just be a cheat; he was liking a man who was dressing up as a woman.

But he looked like a woman, in fact, thinking about how he once mistaken him for being similar to some of the people he knew again if it weren't for the pretty hazel green eyes that looked back at him – and the fact that this was a boy hiding behind the act made his heart race with a weird tune.

The crowd cheered and the bass thundered beneath their feet. Mike laughed nervously, but deep inside his heart was pounding louder than the music – especially when the drag queens made their way to the stage while he was making his way out of it.

He couldn't help but admit that he has already dreamt of this moment – not to be well, gay, or anything – and he has imagined it in flashes of neon and glitter.

.

And now, it was real.

The people gave him the space to dance on, the flashing colours of blue and yellow that intertwined to this meadow green spread across the crowded floor.

Mike could see his coworkers dragging him to the center while Missus Magica was interacting with the crowd for a while, laughing when she sees them spinning around until he was dizzy – how they were taking his glass and refilling it, hearing the loud "on the house!" from the bartender while they were at it.

He tried to play it cool, but his eyes kept darting back to the stage – to her.

But then suddenly the drag queen descended from the spotlight and weaved through the crowd like she owned the place. Shimmering like a diamond in the rough, she waved around the guys that called her name, making sure to wink playfully before reaching her client with a smirk.

"What's happening here?" She voiced out through the music while the others turned to her with a sheepish smile. "I think the birthday boy is having a bit too much fun."

"Mike is having a bit much booze, he might not have enough time to spend with his amazing crush slash favourite drag queen in the whole NYC if he's all drowsy." Martin snorted, seeing how Mike was trying to take every shot for his birthday age today, 18 shots-esque – trying to clear his mind.

"I'm his favourite one?" Magica laughed, crossing her arms as she watched the tomfoolery the boy was making infront of her.

"Trust me, you are. You might actually be the key to his realization at the point –" Martin gossiped, leaning over. "He's.. you know, in a transparent closet and yet still assumed and thinks he's winning hide and seek – trying to say that he isn't kinda gay because of this but he's totally buggin'."

Mike glanced over to them, waving a glass as the liquid clinked around. "Hey.. you know that I can hear you both. This isn't funny, it's literally my birthday, I can't be hated."

"He's right, you know, it's his birthday," Magica grinned, leaning over to cup his chin and bring him closer – yet the ravenet just followed like some lousy dog. "He should be having all the fun that he needs."

Mike cleared his throat, looking away with embarrassment. He wanted to peek through his birthday hat, but it was hard to look through with the candles drooping down like it was deflated, his mask hiding him too.

"Oh please, we were the ones who decided to make this surprise and give you the best birthday ever.. than laying on your bed playing god who knows what," His other coworker nearby, Peter, gave him a cocky smile. "What's that game again? Your campaigns.. Dungeons and Dragons, was it?"

Magica seemed to pause at that, the same hesitance returning back to the time she heard his voice, and seen his face. But that was a story that was going to be told elsewhere.

"Dungeons and Dragons?" She whispered, bewildered. "You know that too?"

"Yeah.." Mike rubbed the back of his neck, "I know.. it's a bit nerdy–"

"It's cute."

The raven haired froze at that, perking over to her seeing her give a knowing smile, taking his hand and leaning in to brush her lips over to his ear. "We have a lot in common then. You're fun, Michael. But.. the dancefloor is too loud, dontcha think? Wanna keep the party going somewhere quieter?"

Mike blinked, heart hammering by her words that he might as well be pronounced an erratic heart attack case.

"Quieter?"

She smiled, crimson lips curling. "We've got reserved suite rooms upstairs ofcourse, your friends didn't come here empty-handed. It's private.. comfortable, and well," She trailed her gloved fingers against his chest, the sing-song voice making him flutter. "You deserve a birthday treat, don't you?"

His coworkers hooted, nodding with thumbs ups of approval. "Go, Mike! Don't waste it!"

Mike hesitated, but the queen's hand was already on his wrist, guiding him towards the staircase. The music was fading behind them and replaced by the muffled thump of bass and cheers through the thick walls.

The neon glowed dimmed into slight shadows when they passed by a couple making out infront of their doorstep, before reaching the door of their suite. Mike felt embarrassed, looking away – he's never done this gay bar thing into the next level, nonetheless with someone wearing drag. Not that it wasn't bad! He

..just.. wasn't gay.

She turned to him when she took out the jingling keys that had a little bunny witch charm with it, eyes glittering like her beautiful dark purple eyeshadow.

"This is where the real celebration begins," She whispered quietly. "Are you ready?"

Mike looked over to the balcony of the place seeing the sea of people from afar. He didn't want to risk being there and get flirted on by other guys.

So he nodded.

The door clicked shut behind them and sealed off the loud thrumming outside the space, giving them a little safe haven. This place wasn't as humongous as the suites he'd imagine but, what else could he think of when it was something inside the gay bar? It was dimly lit by a single warm lamp that casted warm glows towards velvet couches.

It was quieter here though, and heavy with the scent of used cigarettes and perfume intertwined that it was intoxicating. Music was bleeding through the carpeted floorboards, and he turned to see the bed that was neatly folded around. Were these new sheets though?

Mike leaned against the wall, his heart pounding from more than just the alcohol he was downing earlier. She was just.. there, too close to him – eyes sharp and knowing.

"You're.. full of surprises, Michael, and.. I'd like to know more of it," She said with a soft voice, stripped off the stage bravado. "There's this rule that we have. We can do anything you want.. anything that'll make you satiated – but I'm not like the usual ones. I'm not as touchy.."

But then she brought his hand over to his waist to bring him closer. "I'll be the one who'll lead you to it, if I want it or not. I'm not.. the sex type yet, you brought the wrong queen but, something tells me you don't want that either." She mused out.

Mike swallowed the lump in his throat. He never felt this way before towards a drag queen, well – he had this heart racing moment to a guy before, his.. best friend, but he wasn't sure if this was the right term to use.

Something about this thing where he does whatever he says makes him want to do it, and still feel turned on.

Maybe it was because he looked like a girl? Or maybe the proximity? He didn't know.

"Guess I am..."

"But.. Mike, what would you like to do? Don't worry, I can adjust. It's your birthday after all." She whispered innocently, eyebrows raised. Being this close to her.. she sort of reminded him of his best friend – beyond the heavy makeup and the little things that were an attempt of making a bold statement.

It was like he was.. just imagining Will right there, infront of him right now.

His eyes closed, and he couldn't help but let out a quiet whimper. "I.. I just want to touch you– embrace you. I.. I don't want to do anything that much."

Magica was surprised. Of all requests he would've expected, he didn't predict this one.

But she only smiled and stepped closer at that, the distance shrinking until Mike could feel the heat of her body. His chest tightened, breath caught – and he didn't know why but he found himself drawing closer to her, lips trembling as if trying to meet with hers too. It smelt of strawberries.

But before he could actually lean over and press his lips against hers, guilty as he was somehow finding his views morphed into something distorted – something close to what he didn't want to think of..

She tutted, pulling away.

"Do you not know the one rule of this, birthday boy?" Magica whispered to him with a small smile when he shook his head innocently. "The first rule of this is that.. if you kiss me, the sessions over."

Mike gave something close to disappointment, that she easily caught without trying.

Wanting to make him feel better, she leaned to tap onto his mask and pulled it down when he nodded with a breathy noise, kissing the mole near his jawline when he saw it. Something that was strikingly familiar.

Mike could see how Magica's eyes gave a feeling he would consider close to confusion and speechlessness, as if the things he were piecing together was actually true. More likely, the coincidences that lead him here.

Magica sighed softly, biting the inside of her  cheek as though reluctant. "I knew it. Why are you somewhere you wouldn't be.. Mike?"

The voice was now different, like she was finally showing her true self – staring at him as if she was guilty of what she was doing. It wasn't the same squeaky and high-pitched one she did for the crowd, and now it was this.. simple.. soft yet low voice.

The way she said his name wasn't like some hostess in a bar anymore – it was something intimate between the two of them. Something that only one person would give.

Mike froze to the sound, eyes widening.

"Will?"

And now it felt like he was bare naked there already, seen with fear of judgement.

Of all people he expected to see here – fucking Troy Walsh and Chance Perez – it just had to be the least person he would expect, even if it was obvious he'd be in this atmosphere too.

Will Byers.

His best friend. The boy who he kept sulking about to his coworkers everytime until the point of actually managing to bump into him, and in the process being an accidental fan towards his works and performances. He was a drag queen, Will Byers was a drag queen.

The queen's mask slipped just for a moment, and the hidden identity he wore all blurred against the truth in his hazel green eyes.

"Yeah," Will gulped nervously, now being the shy person between them. "It's me."

They just stood there, the silence pressing heavy and only broken from the muffled bass below their room. Mike couldn't help but stare at him with awe, lips parted with shock – like he didn't expect that to be the case; but at the same time, the more that he thought about it.. it made a lot of sense.

He could imagine Will doing this, especially with his artistic talents. But he didn't know what to give first – a little cry because he missed his best friend and turns out he was just here, right under their noses or.. maybe he should smile and hug him tight and never let go because he doesn't want to lose him again.

"You're.. you're the one I've been watching all this time? The Missus Magica with the beautiful Dungeons and Dragons motifs.." He whispered, looking down to his clothing to see the speck of patterns that screamed Will.

And what he thought was just a symbol that made him think of Will, like a distant memory was just actually him and his expression through art. It really was like him, because it was made for him. It was his.

Will seemed to be nervous, like he couldn't read his expression – which he believed to know a lot, lips curving upwards faintly as if he was coping through his fear with a smile. "And you never knew."

"I mean.. I just didn't expect it. It's been years Will, and even if we couldn't cross paths from our close cities, if you really were in NYU or something.. I just.." He looked away, trying to find an excuse of an explanation. "I don't know, but you.. you look.."

"Do I look bad o—" Will said in a small voice, trying to take off his hat away again – turning around with shame. Perhaps beyond the confident façade Will was making, he was still the same vulnerable one he knew in Hawkins.

"No!" Mike blurted out, placing a hand on his shoulder to snap him back to reality. "No, you're.. you're not bad, or I mean you don't look bad. I mean you look like a girl– well in a good way, not in a bad way, you know that. And.. that's.. cool, you look pretty."

He paused at what he said, his eyes widened just as Will's was when he heard his own confession. His cheeks flushed red and he tried to continue with it, staying calm.

"You look pretty." He repeated. "So don't worry about it, Will."

"Thank you." Will gave a sweet smile, trying to hide his laugh with his fist. "I thought you didn't want to see me again after this.."

"That'll never happen," Mike reassured, his hands curling into fists. "To be honest? I don't even want to leave now that I realized it was you. Not that I wanted to beforehand, it was just.. it just made me nervous. I don't want to leave now though, not yet. Even if I know this'll probably go too rash and I'll wake up to my horrible corporate life, I'm here with you again and I can't let that opportunity go! This.. this feels like a dream to be with you again, and I want it to stay."

Will's gaze softened, and his persona faded into something much more genuine than what he used to be. "Then let's keep going." He then cleared his throat, trying to give some space between them. "Well.. except for that part, I think.. things just got awkward between us."

"No, no I don't think so.." Mike insisted, shaking his head persistently. "I like your drag queen persona, she's.. Missus Magica is a wonderful character, and you really brought this witch thing to life!– is that offensive? I don't know what's offensive.."

Will could see him start to ramble again, a thing he does when he's too stressed or trying to prove a point – or fix the said point incase of misunderstandings – and he could only smile at the trait he knew too well, grabbing his hand and lowering it down.

"Mike," The mentioned man froze at his spot, looking over keenly. "Come on, do you have a paper or a pen.. or anything? I'd love to give my number so you could message me or something – my phone is still back at the changing room though."

Mike blinked, before looking around to find something – his attention changed. He reached for a piece of parchment and a half-filled ink pen, handing it over to him with an expectant look.

Then, he fumbled on his pocket showing his recently bought Nokia phone – an early birthday present given by Nancy since she was going to Maldives and was unavailable – a new device after seeing his almost broken pager.

So yes, a gift of pity.

Will held onto his phone and punched in the digits with ease, humming softly when he named the contact to just his name to keep it simple at least.

They looked at each other when the last beeping noise was heard, and it felt sort of awkward especially knowing that they actually knew of each other after all this time – that somehow the red string of fate brought them together all over again.

"I knew it, I had a feeling it was you the moment I kept seeing you looking at my way by the crowd. I.. I thought I was hallucinating, that maybe you were just a figment of my imagination," Will admitted, brushing a strand of his wig (?) behind his ear easily as if it was his own. "But then coincidentally I got a client called Michael that shared the same birthday as my childhood best friend.."

"And you looked just like him, even through the voice. I was surprised you didn't know it was me– I thought it was obvious?" He added shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Mike's eyes widened and he shook his head furiously, "No way! That was not obvious, you actually pulled off being a girl, I would've assumed you were if this wasn't just labelled a drag race or something."

He then gestured over to his clothing. "And you just.. I don't know– the more that I look at you while knowing you're my best friend now, the more it does seem obvious, but I didn't think that way– it's probably because I'm too oblivious or something, remember what Dustin told me when I was little?"

Will's eyes narrowed, confused. "What did Dustin tell you before when you were little?"

"Remember? He said–" Then it dawned to him. "..oh wait you weren't there, my bad."

"Speaking of Dustin, how is he and the others? I tried to contact him with the usual email and all but it doesnt work. Lucas and Max are still alright with me but.. I don't even get time to call them around anymore since they seem to be too busy with their little family," Will smiled at the memory, looking down. "I can't believe the last we spoke was during their wedding."

"Trust me, I can't believe that either."

Will gave an apologetic look.

Mike brushed it over with a sigh, "Anyways, Lucas and Max are still fine, taking care of their kids. Meanwhile Dustin here has a new email, so you better switch it up.. he definitely doesn't use that one anymore. Not after.."

"After?"

"Well, long story short but at some point while trying to talk around and make amends to Suzie by trying to flaunt her with emails,  he didn't know that Suzie got hacked already by some old Russian dude, which led to him believing the link she sent," Mike flailed around his hands. "Which made him do the same thing. Don't press any link."

Will placed a hand on his chest, sighing with relief. "It's a good thing I didn't then, Jonathan told me not to do it."

"Jonathan! How is he?" Mike beamed at the thought, remembering the man's protective older brother very well. "I heard that he was doing this producing gig around, a few people in town are already mentioning his name – I bet hes going to be famous in Hollywood."

"Trust me, I believe the same thing," Will scrunched his nose, smiling. "He's alright, always moving around because of his production about that one metaphorical cannibalism movie he's on about that indirectly talks about politics – anyways, he's all busy but emails around."

"And your mom.. and Hopper?"

They both made their way to sit down at the bed, Will removing the bangles he had on after feeling the heaviness of it's weight as he shifted around to speak. 

"Well, they're happily wedded as we remember, and she's with him back at Montauk with his job. I thought I'd try to move there to," He then winced. "I tried to, really, but I didn't find myself liking the place. It didn't seem fun.. but she's busy trying to be a good saleswoman while my dad oogles at her whenever he passes by with his cop car."

Mike smiled softly.

"Dad."

Will blushes, looking away from the proud look on Mike's face.

"Yeah, dad."

Silence flooded between them until Will tried to change the topic, continuing through with efforts. He cleared his throat, gesturing around with a curious look.

"Oh yeah, what about you and your family, how.. how are they going?" He asked, stocking clad legs kicking around underneath the dress he was wearing. "Are they okay?"

"Holly is fine, she's trying to pursue arts, just like how you did, and Nance is just.. doing her journalistic ideals in a better space– she likes her boss a lot; a woman." Mike hummed. "As for mom and dad, they're alright back in Hawkins with Holly.. they sometimes visit my space and I do the same thing back, they're.. still the same as before. Especially dad."

"Especially your dad." Will laughed, shaking his head. "I miss being in Hawkins."

"I do too.. but at the same time I don't." Mike admitted quietly, making the brunet look over to him. "You know the thing where it.. isn't exactly the place but the people with you that made things feel.. at home? That's exactly what I was feeling."

"I miss Hawkins yes, and my parents are one of the many people that made it feel like home but.. if I went there without anyone and towards nothing, it's pointless – I wouldn't be going there in the first place. Because hypothetically speaking, it really was just you guys that made it feel like home."

"Like.. you for example," Mike bit his lip, a bit hesitant of what he was saying. He hoped to imply it properly, a bit confused whether it was going to the right track or not. "You know.. when I told you Hawkins wasn't the same without you back in Lenora? It's the same with you now, Will."

"It wouldn't have felt nice, and it wouldn't have felt at home. Hawkins would never miss me, and I'd never miss it back – after everything we've been through. I'm sure my parents are moving at the point, just because Holly is moving to college soon," His knee bounced repeatedly, fingers thrumming onto the sheets. "So yeah, you made it feel like it was home."

You made it feel like it was home.

He wondered if he said it properly, especially when Will just stayed quiet beside him during the whole ramble, making him awkwardly look up to the ceiling – wondering if he said something wrong that bothered him.

"Sorry, was that too cheesy? I don't know.. I probably shouldn't have said that." He forced out a chuckle. "Just know that you were one of the many people I have missed, and probably the top one if I had to choose and.. now I'm here, with you.. having my birthday deal with a drag queen.."

No response. Until..

"I swear you make this a lot more sadder than it should've been. It's your birthday, no time to be teary eyed," Will suddenly stood up, heading over to get some glasses with a soft sigh, trying to continue his façade again as Missus Magica. He barely saw his reaction too, which felt disappointing.

After that, he raised a toast, pouring the alcohol. "Let's drink and finish this night!"

Mike grabbed his, trying to search for something, anything— but nothing was there, no sign of what he wanted to see or get from his expression at all.

But.. what was the thing he was looking for?

Mike glanced over to Will as he spoke, the two of them laying on the bed – the blankets wrinkled underneath their little movements left and right. He couldn't help but stare at his best friend, and what he looked like now – he still looked like the same Will, but maybe even better? He looked.. handsome, beautiful..

Will could pull off any style.

The brunet looked up at him, smiling softly, "Thanks, you could too, not gonna lie." 

Did he say that out loud?

Mike blushed bright red, averting his gaze down – trying to ignore the nervous beating of his heart. But amidst that, he could see the close proximity that they shared, and how.. if he was just.. a little bit closer.. their fingers would brush.

It wasn't weird to hold hands as boy best friends, that was something usual if there was a close bond, just mischaracterized by the world and their assumptions. But there was something about.. the way that it made his heart beat fast – similar to how he had it when he held hands with him, looked at him.. anything with Will Byers.

He didn't know what it was, but it was drawing him closer to him more than he has ever done to anyone else.

"—Morning birthday boy!"

Mike bursted his eyes open to see one of his coworkers near his face, a loud scream ripping out of his throat – his body tipping over from the jumpy movement to fall down on the floorboards with the blanket following suit.

His fall was alright though, landing onto a pile of crumpled clothing and an empty pizza box that he didn't remember getting in his apartment.. that looked like it had been ransacked by a frat house with the amount of bottles on the ground, shoes abandoned in odd corners that he didn't own, and a trail of glitter across the carpet he couldn't explain.

Meanwhile nature was merciless as the sun sliced through the blinds in sharp white bars, stabbing his eyes the moment he cracked them open. His head throbbed loudly, like someone had set up some stupid drum kit inside his skull and repeatedly taunted him awake. It felt horrible.

He felt horrible– his mouth just tasted like stale beer and the regret of whatever he had coming for the new day. He was just in luck that today was a weekend, and that he didn't have a shift with the others.

He squinted, looking up to see one of his coworkers perched on the couch and sipping coffee from his favourite mug like they just owned the place, the one near him – that was blurring into two figures – walked over to him and took something from the side.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" He croaked out, voice rough.

"Making sure you survived the night alone," The man said, whom he now recalled was Martin. "Barely, by the looks of it. You were a drunken mess last night, and.. sheesh, I'm surprised that you're alright right now."

"What..?"

He didn't even remember what happened after his talk with Will at the suite. They both were laying down on the bed and talked about their lives instead of just doing what they were initially supposed to do – which he wasn't even sure on what it was because now that he thought about it, he was about to kiss his best friend like it was nothing. His best friend.

But then after a few shots, he didn't even remember what was happening.. or how he ended up back at his apartment.

Mike sat up fast at the snicker one of them gave, clutching his pounding head.

"Define 'mess'. "

His coworker that he could finally identify, Landon, leaned back with a smirk that widened too amused. And then the diabolical came out of his mouth– a nightmare.

"You puked. In front of her. Just right before the taxi came, and it was legendary." He shrugged out, taking another tentative sip. "I.. honesty am glad I got to pull you away, if I didn't, you would've puked over your little crush– Missus Magica was concerned though, I dont know if you consider that a win."

Whatever he said after didn't even make sense because he could barely comprehend the first few words sprouted out to him.

You puked.

He felt his stomach drop down, his entire world crashing with just that.

"Wait.. infront of Will?" He whispered with disbelief, slowly covering his mouth with his hand. Oh my God. Oh my God.

"Oh, you remember his name now? That's sweet of you." The grin widened enough that it must've hurted at some point. "Yeah, you practically collapsed on him when we tried to get you out of the bar. Poor guy had to help you into the cab because of how drunk you got – dunno how you did that though. I was so sure that you were pretending for this."

"Honestly, it was kind of sweet." Martin commented, walking over to him and handing some medicine. "If you ignore the vomit."

Mike buried his reddened face in his hands, groaning with annoyance. Perfect. Just when he was finally back on track and feeling like life was worth it again, he had to realize he pulled the more embarrassing stunt ever.

A first real moment with Will after years of being apart, and I threw up on him. He thought, rubbing his temples. Smooth, Wheeler. Real smooth.

Peter enjoyed his misery, looking over to him with a taunting smirk. He was fixing the mess they had around the place as he spoke out loud.

"You should've seen the look on his face, your Will, was it? He was trying to keep it together, but man, you were gone in a quick blackout that it was concerning. Like.. gone-gone with the slurring and stumbling. The whole nine yards!" Peter then watched how he took the medicine with a glass of water. "Calling him and saying you missed him even if he was there.. you even tried to sing along to Madonna on the way out."

"Like a virgin indeed– ow!" Landon gasped when he was hit with a pillow that was thrown across the room, looking over to him.

Mike's face burned, walking over to them and pulling them off their comfort zones. "Get out, there is no damn way I did all that."

"What? We're just saying –"

"Out!" He shoved them towards the door, ignoring their teasing laughter.

But fortunately, they left at some point, laughing like hyenas as the door shut behind them. The apartment turned far more bearable and quiet, and Mike could only slump back to the couch, staring at the ceiling.

He tried to replay some fragments of the birthday night, but they just progressively got more worse by the minute – from him watching Will at the stage, to him throwing up in front of the one person he'd actually want to impress after years of being apart.

He groaned, dragging a pillow over to his face.

"Great, just great."

Mike then glanced over to see his phone still sitting on the coffee table, blinking faintly as if waiting for his call. Will's number was still carefully saved there, the digits feeling far more important than they should be.

He grabbed the device, and pressed it open to see his contact, thumb hovering on the text button. He didn't know whether it was even a good choice to try and start a conversation, but there was just something about it..

"Do I.. text him even after the humiliation ritual last night?" He whispered to himself, confused. "After puking on him?"

There was no way he was going to live the moment and let that be, he would've just decided to let that be and move on from his life.. but there was also the dramatic urge to change his name and clothes, move to a different country and try to hide from Will for the rest of his life than anything else.

But.. he couldn't dare hide from Will, not on purpose, at least.

He dragged himself into the bathroom instead, feeling his head continue to throb throughout his little morning routine. He splashed the cold water on his face and brushed his teeth as if that would erase the shame that he was feeling from whatever shenanigans he managed to pull off last night.

He could see how his reflection just looked wrecked as ever, his coworkers barely exaggerating with their words — his hair was tousled and some strands were sticking upwards, eyes bloodshot as if he was busy crying or staying away, and his shirt was too wrinkly that it would've lost its value.

He sighed to himself, making sure to take a shower before pulling on some clean clothes folded neatly from the hamper.

When he got the chance, he stood up to slowly head over to his phone, finally typing over to him with hesitancy.

I'm so sorry about last night again, Will. I was such a horrible mess– that'll never happen ever again. But.. I still miss you, and I still want to see you, is that alright?

He hesitated to try and press the send button, finger hovering over it in mere second.. until he did it himself anyways and gave both a heart and smiling emoji just for good measure. It just had to be him of all people.

He tried to distract himself the whole time afterwards, looking around before making his way over to his bed again – trying to scurry and fix the sheets while he was at it, tossing his phone aside to try and remove his thoughts on how desperate he sounded like.

And Mike Wheeler was never this desperate; never once in his life has he ever sounded like an ex that wanted to make amends after wrongs, wanting to be together again – it was some odd case, but it was just their friendship.

They were just like that, him and Will.

That was their own normal.

People may bat their eyes around but it wasn't anything weird for them.. even if he remembers the countless of times where his mother would used to tell his younger self if he needed to know that she loved him even if there were times where he couldn't say things to her, or that he must've had secrets. The same went for Nancy, Lucas, and Dustin.

It was an odd occurrence, and he tried not to think about it that much, brushed it off.

Mike felt his heart beating wildly, looking over to his phone that was now pushed away once more to try and remove the temptation of checking every once in a while.

But then the sudden glimmering when a new message notification was given almost immediately showed to disrupt hom. Probably either from Will or a random telemarketer.

Well, can't do anything now. He then bit his lip, leaning against this area without struggling. Whatever he sent already sent and Will Byers was probably sitting on his couch at this very moment while watching his favourite show without much thought.

And he was probably someone who interrupted his peace.

"Okay.. well, here goes nothing." He whispered to himself, grabbing his phone and started plopping down on his neatly fixed bed – feeling the sheets rustle beneath him from his restless movements when he pressed it.

It wasn't much, and it was just his coworkers saying how he should have a nice post-birthday clarity after being with his favourite drag queen and potentially had something between them, giving a your welcome right afterwards.

Mike rolled his eyes, lowering his phone. He couldn't help but admit he sort of felt upset that it wasn't the person he expected at all.

Before he could continue his little sulking moment, the ringtone suddenly played again – that one scratchy, loud, ear piercing ringtone he couldn't even change even if he tried – and his eyes widened, snatching the phone back to check on who it was.

It was Will.

It was actually Will.

And he finally responded back to him.

He lets out a shaky exhale of relief, looking down on the message that was typed down for him. He was so glad he managed to ask for his number, he knew that Will didn't have these things before since they were costly and Joyce was hogging everything.. just like back at Lenora.. so there wasn't any time to spare.

And now here they were, finally speaking to each other again through texts.

Oh please, Mike it's really not that bad! We're best friends, we've seen each others moments, even as crazy as it could be.. and possibly worse. I miss you too, it would be great to see you again this night, back at the same bar?

His heart skipped a beat. They'll meet each other there again in the bar?

Will.. he was going to see him again. And now with the knowledge that he was Missus Magica – the drag queen that he went crazy for. Is it even allowed to still feel crazy for her or was that already weird?

It didn't take long for his fingers to move on it's own, typing back a response:

I'd love that, see you there!

 

A buzz. That was quick..

It's a date! :)

Mike found himself feeling like the day turned into a blur until the very next.. and very much anticipated one. He has never felt this excited to head over to the bar again, without his coworkers this time — well, technically he did, whenever he saw Missus Magica.. (but look where that dragged him).

And it would be just him and Will Byers (his best  friend he's missed so much) again, together, spending time to actually reignite the same bond they had when they were little until now. At the bar.

But.. it wasn't time yet.

It was still early in the morning around five, the earliest he's awaken. He tried to distract himself and pass the time just as what he has been doing since yesterday, tugging onto his sneakers with a groggy expression.

He still regretted every shot from the night before, remembering how his head throbbed the whole day that it was hard to even move around even with the medicine, but now with the slight headache he needed the air, movement — something that could shake off the shame he had the whole time.

He could still remember his cell message that he sent back after Will gave his own, a poor excuse of a it's a date indeed! – like he was some scholar that has been melted through an ice age just to say the stupidest response ever known to man kind.

It sat heavy in his chest, and he thought that perhaps he said something wrong from the way there was no reply sent yet.

Or maybe he really did make a fool of himself.

He never knew why he always did this thing whenever he was with Will even until now.

Well, it was no lie that Mike Wheeler had the tendency to be too awkward that it was hard to even watch him before and after.. but it was odd enough that it still managed to stay the same – or maybe ten times more – when he's with him.. again.

To remove those thoughts away, he tried to head outside to do a morning jog, heading off to elsewhere and probably change his name, his clothes, and move cities if he gets any closer to checking the phone for any updates..

It was already hard enough for him back in the day when there was no phone calls or letters given back to him, what more when it was something as simple and advanced as a text?

The city seemed to be already buzzing even if it was early in the morning, some vendors shouting over their stores – one of them holding a sign about bagels and coffee while taxis honked impatiently for some people to come inside, and then the familiar scent of exhaust intertwining with fresh bread. Downtown New York for you.

Mike jogged past storefronts and weaved through the crowd, trying to focus on the rhythm of his feet hitting the pavement. He was planning to head to the park, maybe try and clear his mind there too.

But said mind kept circling back to Will, and now it was about him as Missus Magica; the sequins she.. he wore, and the spotlight that went down on him with precision, or maybe the way his voice shifted in the suite just to show his true.. vulnerable self..

He didn't know what was worse: the way he touched Missus Magica beforehand with confidence like he needed to do it, or maybe that way they laid down by the sheets and had a moment, staring into each other after the talk – and something was screaming in his head to move closer to him, do something.

— or.. maybe how they were supposed to kiss.

Mike paused his little jog, groaning to himself with frustration. His hands covered his face as if it was an attempt to try and remove or hide the shame he felt from it.

That's weird. He only wanted to kiss Will because he looked like a girl there, right? This.. this wasn't because it was Will or anything.

"'re you alright boy? You know, if you feel upset, we have this community that's made for—" He turned around seeing a lady holding a flyer just as he suspected, and he gave a quick nod before continuing his jog.

Rule one he remembers Steve giving him: never interact with any suspicious behaviour, that might be a lady that'll bring you to a cult.

Every step nonetheless felt like a question that was bargaining for answers. Did I ruin it? Did he laugh at me after he puked, I can't even remember? Did he even want me to text or was that already conversation dismissed?

That was where Mike Wheeler knew that he preferred to see people while they spoke – or well, see Will Byers while speaking more than just through a text.

He didn't want to get the wrong idea, after all.

As he rounded the corner onto a busy avenue, seeing the spot he was about to usually cross with the god awful pedestrian walk that directed to the place he wanted to go to, his breath caught to his throat.

There across the street, standing at a half-empty bus stop, was Will Byers.

The person he was thinking endlessly about.

He knew it was him, even without the messy long hair and the sequin dress that covered his body in the bar. It was just him, Will Byers, in the daylight – his hair tucked under a beanie with a jacket zipped against the chilly weather, hands shoved into the pockets.

He was almost invisible in the crowd, he should've been, but he was so easy to see.

To Mike, he was the only person in the city.

He slowed down until he completely stopped, his heart hammering and sweat cooling on his skin as he saw him. He couldn't even believe it, thought it was some stupid dream. That out of millions of faces in New York, it was him.

And then their eyes met.

For a heartbeat, the chaos of New York that usually pestered him froze in his view – slowly fading until there was only the two of them there, staring across the street.

Mike lifted a hand, giving a small hesitant gesture to him.

Will's lips curved faintly, almost a smile.

Before he could mouth something back it seems, the bus screeched to a stop and the doors hissed open nearby – he was standing by the tail of the bus and some people made their way inside hastily, not wanting to miss it.

However, Will took his time and glanced over to him one last time, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before he gave a little wave back to him.

After that he stepped forward, swallowed by the crowd of office workers boarding, all of them making their way inside.

Mike stood still, feeling everything come back to life with the loud noise – static gone. Yet even so, his mind stayed locked on the fleeting moment they shared. Of all the thousands of people in New York City, it had to be him.

He tried to scurry over past the pedestrian walk, seeing how the bus slowly left him there with Will inside it – barely seeing where he sat or whether he was staring back. He wandered over to the park, still carrying the dull ache of his hangover even now.

The air was crisp even in such a foggy morning, and he could still hear the shrieking of kids as they chased each other across the grass. Fellow joggers looped the pathways and vendors shouted of pretzels and hot dogs, the city buzzing around him just as always.

He dropped onto a bench with tired eyes, feeling the phone sitting heavy in his pocket, still silent even until that.

No message from Will.

The silence gnawed at him until he couldn't take it anymore, pulling out he device to dial the one person who always picked up. Someone who was always near his cell 24/7.

"Hey!"

"Hey.."

"What's up?" Dustin answered with his voice muffled with loud chewing. "You sound like death, and utter pity. Still hungover?"

"How'd you..–" Mike groaned to himself, hand on his head. "Don't start."

"You drunk called me last time at some point, Mike, kept babbling to someone saying how you needed him to see me or something. Is he your boyfriend or like a hook-up? Cause that's quick." Dustin laughed. "I didn't expect you to be in a gay bar, but I kinda see it."

"What do you see?" Mike looked at his phone skeptically, leaning back against the bench. "And.. it wasn't just the bar."

"Oh boy," Dustin sighed. "Spill."

Mike hesitated, chewing his lip. "I.. well.. I met someone, someone really special."

It was silent for a moment.. until a loud crunch was heard making him roll his eyes. He thought it was intense.

"Met someone? Like, romantically?"

"What?! No way– romantically is crazy, that wouldn't be–" Mike immediately sputtered around, his voice cracking as he tried to clear up the confusion. "It wasn't just anyone, I mean! I mean– it was.. it was Will!"

There was a short pause as earlier, and then Dustin practically shouted into the receiver making some of the people look at his direction weirdly. "WILL BYERS?! As in.. our Will? The.. he's what?! He was there? You saw him again? This– this is crazy!"

"Yeah," Mike blushed, looking down to the ground, thinking. "And.. guess what?"

"What?"

Mike contemplated whether he should say it. "The drag queen..—"

"Is Will Byers?!" 

He was reluctant to even continue his words.. but ofcourse Dustin was there to finish it for him.

The ravenet winced at the loud shouting again, looking around to apologize. "Keep it down, people are staring at your loud ass."

"Well sorry not sorry that is your volume's fault grandpa, anyways I would've joked and assumed it was Lucas but.. I'm sure that'll open something in Max's mind."

Dustin cackled for a while, enjoying the idea. "Oh my god. You.. the drag queen you've been desperately pining over, head-over-heels gay from is literally your best friend! Dude, this is insane!"

Mike covered his face with his hand. "I'm.. I'm not gay, Dustin. And it's not insane, it's humiliating. I puked on him– well.. nearly."

Dustin could only wheeze. "You puked on him? That's your big romantic move? Pass."

Mike slumped deeper into the bench, watching the stray cat chasing pigeons by the pathway. "I.. well I texted him before, and we saw each other coincidentally.. but he didn't even say anything or replied."

"Why don't you message first? And jokes aside, this is huge. Our friend Will Byers turning out to be the one drag queen you gushed about, and you potentially making a fool of yourself? What type of humiliation ritual is happening in this reunion?" Dustin said with amusement.

"I don't know, and I don't like it." Mike muttered to himself bitterly.

"Well.. to be fair, you don't just hand out your numbers unless you mean it, and you should try to message him too. Trust me. It's Will, he'd reply." Then, his friend snorted. "And when he does, you're not allowed to screw it up."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Anytime." Dustin smirked. "Still can't believe you almost puked at him though. Legendary."

Mike could only roll his eyes, but deep inside he took his words seriously.

He can't screw this up.