Chapter Text
Contrary to popular belief, Will Byers hated many things. He hated Hawkins, a shitty old town that seemed to get worse as the months flew by. He hated the cold, the way it would make his skin prickly and his fingers numb. Yet what he hated most was what High School students needed to do to graduate– Community Service Hours.
Or in other words, hell on earth.
It was a dreadful Monday morning, and Will could hear pounding on his door. He, like probably every other teenager, hated mornings. Especially, after two days of waking up at whatever hour he felt like.
Will groaned into his pillow as the pounding on the door became more and more frantic. His eyes shut tight, feeling a wave of both irritation and acceptance to wash over his body.
“Will! C’mon, you told me to wake you up early!” Jonathan’s voice called from the other side of the door, filled with as much groginess as Will was feeling. The members of the Byers family were never morning people.
“Okay… I’m up,”
The knocking stopped, and he heard his brother walking away with a sigh of relief.
Will rubbed his eyes with one hand as he pushed himself up with his other arm. The curtains on his window were closed, but, since he had amazing luck, rays of annoyingly bright sunlight had made their way past them.
Before he could convince himself to lie back down to close his eyes a little longer, he ripped the blanket off him and swung his legs to the side to sit up fully.
He stretched his arms above his head, and as his brain cleared up from the foggy sleepiness, he could hear the sound of his house almost fully awake. He hears his mom down the hall in the kitchen, probably in front of the stove, making Will’s favorite scrambled eggs. He could hear Hopper groan as he sat down after making his coffee, most likely now reading the newspaper.
His twin sister Jane was probably still asleep, unlike Will; she didn't have to get to school early for a long, boring meeting with her school counselor. And Jonathan? Well, his brother had most likely gone back into his room to sleep a little longer before having to get ready for his part-time job. Lucky… Will thought, getting out of his bed and walking to his bedroom door.
The sizzling of the pan became clearer as he walked out of his room to make his way towards the bathroom. Along with the sizzling, the snores that rang out from his brother's room were louder. Will rolled his eyes and wondered to himself how he could even sleep through the night when his brother was so loud, but he didn't dwell on it.
“Morning, kid,” he heard Hopper greet him. Will groaned out what he hoped was a good morning, but wasn't entirely sure. He heard Hopper chuckle and mutter something that sounded close to, ‘Definitely not a morning person.’
He shut and locked the door behind him and did what he had to do: used the bathroom, washed his hands, and brushed his teeth. Splashing water on his face to wake himself up a little more, so he wasn't mumbling good mornings anymore. He looked up and into the mirror, and he nodded once he made sure his eyes weren’t puffy with sleep anymore.
He made his way back to his room, glancing at the clock as he shut the door, and began to pick up the pace. He wasn’t late, but he wanted to make sure he had enough time to collect himself, to look presentable.
Quickly, he made his way towards his closet and picked out the shirt he had set his mind on the night before. A simple black long-sleeve shirt that he would pair with dark jeans. It was simple, safe.
Will stood in front of his dresser, picking out the pair of jeans he imagined wearing the night before. He found them quickly. The baggy white band tee he had slept in the night before was off in a second, replaced with the black shirt he'd picked out earlier. Then came the jeans, which were an older pair of his, once his brothers', but they had stopped fitting him years ago. His black-and-white pajama pants were now on the floor, next to his discarded shirt. He’d have to tidy up his room later, but that was not the priority at the moment.
The jeans fit him perfectly, and in his opinion, better than they fit Jonathan, but don't tell him that. He picked out a pair of socks before putting them on.
A few minutes later, after a very hard internal debate, he stuffed his feet into a pair of old white sneakers. He walked around his room, picking up and stuffing anything that he was going to need in school, and stuffing it all into his backpack.
Hazel eyes glanced at the clock, 7:13 am. Perfect, he would have five to ten minutes to himself if he left now. With a last glance around his room, Will determined he had everything he needed and walked towards his door.
The first thing he noticed when he walked into the hall was the sound of the toaster popping, which he assumed was two Eggo waffles. Jane was up and running.
The smell of syrup and coffee filled his nostrils as he started walking towards the door. “Bye, guys, I’ll see you later,” he mumbled, trying to zip his backpack closed while he attempted to put on his jacket simultaneously.
“Hold it!” Joyce, his mother, called from behind him. He’d been so close…
Will groaned internally, turning around to face his mother. She was walking towards him, that familiar expression of worry on her face. “You haven't eaten yet, Will. Why are you going in such a hurry?”
“I have a meeting with Mrs. Wilson, we’re going to talk about Community Service Hours, and I’ll eat at school, I promise.” Will smiled, shuffling slightly on his feet. He needed to leave now, or else he’d be twitching and stuttering his way through the meeting.
Joyce sighed and nodded after kissing him on the cheek, letting him go.
“I’ll see you later!”
“Bye, Will! See you at school.” Jane called out, mouth stuffed with Eggos and maple syrup,
———
“...not many options now that we are five months into the year, Will.” Mrs. Wilson smiled softly.
Will felt himself deflate. He had left the threat of Community Service unattended, and now he was paying for it. Five months into the school year, and he still hadn't picked one of the many ‘jobs’ the school had to offer for it. He had just asked her about helping the Art Club with the murals they were planning to put around the school, but to his disappointment, all the available positions were taken.
“So… uh– what options are there?” Will asked hesitantly. And the look in his counselor's eyes made him regret asking.
“Well… for you, Will. I have two in mind.”
He nodded, telling her to continue. “There is a position open to help the Hawkins Basketball Team… as a Water Boy.” Will stiffened, eyebrows shooting up. Him? A Water Boy? She had to be joking. He was a nerd, a freak. The quiet artsy boy in the back of the class. Even if Lucas, one of his best friends, was there, he doubted the team would like him much.
“Water boy…?” Will was sure the look on his face was one of pure and unfiltered shock. Maybe his own eyes were deceiving him because he was sure she had started growing a second head.
Mrs. Wilson laughed softly, “Yes, many of the kids I tried to offer this position to declined… The boys in the team are… well, intense.”
“So, why me?” Will tried asking casually, but he was sure the small shake of his voice and slight hesitation had a different effect. He watched his counselor smile ever so slightly before she spoke again. “That is because I believe you could be able to help them; they do not have an amazing reputation at the moment, but I believe having you around would be rather helpful.”
Will nodded, sure he didn’t understand, but what was he supposed to say?
“And, I doubt those boys will do anything to you, Will, after all, you are friends with Lucas.” That was true… They wouldn’t do anything to him if he already knew someone on the team, but he still couldn’t really consider being near the basketball guys nearly every day…
“And what about the other option…?” Will wasn’t going to regret asking a question, not this time. He could not do it. Nothing could be worse than being the Hawkins Basketball Team’s water boy—
“Helping in the citizens' home.”
“I'll be the Water Boy.”
———
“So… you just agreed?” Mike asked, his face displaying his confusion. It was lunch time, and most of his friends were gathered around him, looking at him with a bit of pity. Well, all except Lucas. While Max, Jane, Dustin, and Mike looked at him like he was a dead man walking, Lucas was genuinely happy he was finally going to be able to finish his community hours.
“Will, don’t worry. I’ll make sure nothing happens, I promise.” Lucas tried to reassure him, but Will was too far gone. His stomach was twisting and turning; he was going to be the Hawkins water boy starting tomorrow. How exciting.
“I don't get it, Will. Why would you agree?” Mike asked, his voice still laced with confusion. It wasn’t like Will wanted to do it, but if being near basketball players while they trained for games meant staying away from the old cranky people in Hawkins, he was going to risk it.
“I’m not exactly thrilled about it, Mike. It was that or help in the citizen's home.” Will shrugged. “I don't exactly want to spend my afternoons feeding cranky old men.”
“So you'd rather spend it with cocky jocks?” Mike scoffed. His words earned him a look from Lucas, which he ignored. “I'm just saying, you could have thought about it.”
“I did.” Will frowned.
“Look, I don’t want to talk about this and have you making me regret my decision more than I already am.” He looked away from Mike, his eyes landing on the food tray in front of him. The dry slice of pizza he had picked out didn't look as appetizing. Well, it didn't look like it tasted good when he picked it out; he was sure pizza like this was not even meant to be handed out.
The table was a bit quieter now. Will and Mike rarely got into it with each other, but lately, Will wasn't in the mood to deal with Mike's constant questions. When the two started getting into it, the party had to sit there pretending it wasn't happening; it was just too awkward for both sides.
“Well,” Dustin chimed in after a few seconds, causing Will to look at him. “At least you have a whole twenty-four hours until you start being a water boy.” Dustin smiled.
Will smiled back, “You’re right, Dustin.” He shot him a grateful look.
“What days does the team have practice other than Tuesdays, Lucas?” he asked, glancing to his right.
Lucas perked up, quickly trying to remember. “On weeks with no games, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for two and a half hours after school,”
“And for weeks with games?” Will asked, tilting his head a bit.
“Games are usually on Fridays, so we have practice all week.” Will nodded, quickly saving all the information in his head. “Oh, weekday practice is always after school,” Lucas explained.
“Weekday?” Will looked at him, confused, his nose twitching just slightly. Lucas smiled at something; he wasn't sure what, but he started speaking again. “We have practice on weekends too, usually at twelve. And we end at three.”
“Jesus…”
“Trust me, I know.” Lucas laughs but continues after taking a sip of his drink. “But think about it, Will. With the amount of practice the team has, the one hundred and fifty hours of Community Service you have to do will be over like this.” Lucas snaps his fingers for effect. Will nods; it made sense. He wanted to get them done quickly. And if that meant sacrificing his free time, he was up for it.
“Wait, a hundred and fifty? I thought we just needed one hundred?” Mike asked, shocked, his eyebrows furrowed as usual.
“No, they changed it, it was one hundred like two years ago,” Dustin explained, his pointer finger out and waving around. That started another one of Mike’s ‘That’s total bullshit’ speeches, but surprisingly, even Max agreed with what Mike was saying.
Will paid them no mind, his thoughts wandering towards anything other than basketball and the hour he had to scrape together to get a piece of paper at the end of the school year. Along with his thoughts, Will let his eyes wander freely. Soon, to his own surprise, his eyes landed on the lunch table he wanted to avoid the most.
The table where all the basketball players sat.
Sure, it was true that the players had a bit of a reputation; they were cocky, rude, and didn’t care how their actions affected others… Okay, maybe they were just as bad as what the rumors said. Andy Harper, the current Captain of the team, was the worst. He was a loudmouth, a teenager filled with too many emotions he didn’t want to deal with himself. Although every teenager was like that, even Will didn’t want to deal with his own emotions from time to time.
Then there was Patrick McKinney, who would probably be the easiest to get along with, other than Lucas, of course; he had always been slightly closed off. Though that didn’t stop him from having a reputation, from what Will knew, Patrick was always the one who knew the most about people.
Then came Ross Jones; he didn't know much about him. He only knew the basics. He was known as the prankster of Hawkins, the one who always had an idea in his back pocket. Ross never got caught; he was always far away from where any pranks on Principal Higgins were occurring.
After him was Josh Griffin. He was best friends with Ross, and they shared a similar sense of humor and had a friendship that likely dated back years. Unlike Ross, Will knew slightly more of Josh, though nothing too specific. He helped Ross with pranks and was one of the nicest on the team.
There were others on the team, many more, though Will knew little to nothing about them, but one of them stood out. Chance Lawson.
He was an American-Filipino with a strong build. Not that Will was looking at his muscles… but they were very noticeable. He was quiet and Andy's best friend. Unlike Andy, however, Chance was usually cold and closed off. While Andy Harper was a large campfire ready to burst, Chance Lawson was a large bucket of ice-cold water. When Andy was in one of his moods, which was very often, Chance was there to drag him away and get him out of trouble. They were compatible, the perfect balance between chaos and composure.
Will's eyes stayed on Chance, who was listening to Andy as he spoke animatedly. Chance was… handsome. Tanned skin, wide shoulders, and strong legs. His hair was black, with thick dark waves that flowed to the side and landed perfectly to frame his face. He had thick eyebrows that complemented him; they gave him an intense look. Cold and untouchable. And don't get Will started on his eyes. A dark brown, deep and rich, when light hit them, the rich color only seemed to intensify.
Chance laughed at something Andy had said. His eyes creased a bit as he smiled. It was, well, Will had to be honest with himself from time to time, cute.
Not wanting to get caught, Will looked away and joined his friend's conversation. Now, instead of talking about the number of hours they had to get done by the end of the school year, they were talking about their upcoming Movie Night.
“I thought it was my turn to pick the movie?” Dustin frowned, looking at everyone.
“That’s bull!” Max exclaimed. “It’s my turn; the last one that picked was Jane. We go by order!”
“No! That's completely wrong!” Mike added. “It’s my turn; it was Jane’s turn to pick, but she couldn't decide, so you picked for her.”
“Then it's my turn,” Will commented. “If we go by order, I’m up next!” Will pointed at himself.
Lucas was next to chime in, “Uh, no.” he shook his head. “When Max picked out Hairspray, we all said no, so you picked, Will.”
“It was a collective agreement!” Will shot back. “We all picked out the movie that night!”
“I call bullshit!” Dustin rolled his eyes playfully.
“You always call bullshit, Dustin!”
“Then we have to restart, so that means I pick.” Jane smiled. “I say we watch Grease.”
There was a pause, and soon a loud and collective groan escaped from each member of the party while Jane sat there sipping her apple juice.
———
Another thing Will hated was Gym class. Even if he was an artist, the ability to hold a paintbrush completely still wasn't something that he could easily transfer into sports. He couldn't throw or catch a ball all that well. Could barely kick a soccer ball without potentially pulling a muscle that wasn't even involved while kicking. Sure, Will was strong; he was fast on his feet, but that didn't help much when there he was trying to make sure a stray ball didn't pummel him to the ground.
So, Coach Landon, with his oh so kind heart, always allowed Will to walk laps around the gym to get full credit for the day. Realistically, he didn't want to see Will get hit in the face again. Not after the last eight times. But the laps would have to be put on hold. Now, Will had to have a full conversation with his teacher about his new… job.
“Coach Landon, do you have a moment?” Will asked hesitantly. Coach Landon looked up from his clipboard as he took attendance. “Sure, Byers. What can I help you with?”
“Well, I spoke to Mrs. Wilson today and… I’m going to be your new Water Boy starting tomorrow.” Will cleared his throat, feeling a bit awkward.
“Oh!” He was shocked. Will could see it; he couldn't blame him.
“Now, that's a surprise. As much as you try to hide it, Byers. I know you hate being in this gym.” Coach smiled lightly. Will shrugged his shoulder a bit, not denying it. “Well, that's good news for me, Will.”
“So, uh… What would I need to do, just to be ready for tomorrow?” he asked, his hands coming together to play with his finger as he tried to calm himself.
“Well, the team has two coolers in the kitchen. One we fill with ice water. The other is just filled with ice. That one is to keep Gatorade in.” Will nodded along, keeping everything in mind.
“Come by tomorrow when your last class ends, and I'll go with you and show you everything you need to do, alright?” The older man nodded his head when Will agreed. “Good, now go do your laps.”
———
Mr. O’Mara was a strict man. He was strict when grading and when teaching. And he was strict about students being late and leaving early. So, now here he was, trying to gather the courage to ask the older man to leave just ten minutes early tomorrow afternoon.
“Yes, Will?” his teacher asked, his thick glasses perched on his nose as he looked up at Will from his desk. Will swallowed. He had just spoken with his coach an hour ago, so now he could speak with his art teacher to allow him to miss ten measly minutes.
“Mr. O’Hara, I just wanted to ask you something.” With all his determination, he spoke up. “I was wondering if I could leave ten minutes early tomorrow. Now, I know you don't like it when we leave early, but I have a very good reason. You see, to complete my community service hours, I talked to Mrs. Wilson, and I–” Will stopped his rambling when the older man in front of him laughed softly.
“Will, that's okay. Coach Landon came by earlier to tell me,” he smiled. “I appreciate you telling me, but you do not need to worry… you're sweating a bit there.”
“Oh, okay. I just wasn't sure.” Will smiled sheepishly, wiping his hand over his forehead.
“It’s alright, now, go set up. You have a master piece to finish.”
Will felt all his worries wash away as quickly as they came. With a nod, he walked to his usual spot and began setting up. He set himself up fast. He grabbed the paintbrush he was going to need, grabbed extra paper towels, and everything else that he needed. Soon, he was concentrated on the painting in front of him.
“You are late, Mr. Lawson.” Mr. O’Hara’s voice was stern. Will looked up to see the older man cross his arms as he looked at the boy in front of him.
“I was finishing up a test, sir.” Will’s eyes shifted to see Chance. He was wearing the infamous letterman jacket that all the basketball team members wore. Under it, he wore a simple long-sleeve shirt and light-washed jeans that hugged his legs… very well. Shit. He needed to calm down.
Chance handed the teacher a late pass. Mr. O’Hara nodded after reading the pass and examining the signature at the bottom of the small paper. Something in Will was sure the older man had memorised every staff member’s signature.
“Very well, get yourself set up, Lawson.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Will averted his eyes back to his painting. The canvas in front of him was covered in various shades of greens and yellows. It was a simple landscape painting. A grassy field with a bright yellow sunset in the background. It was simple, but so beautiful. At least that was what his teacher had said, but Will wasn't so sure.
He was focused, his eyes following the brush he controlled as if it were second nature, which it was. His brain muffled all sound around him. The scraping of chairs, the sound of paintbrushes hitting glass cups as his classmates washed away excess paint. He blocked out the sound of footsteps, the sound of someone sitting beside him. The sound of someone setting up all of their materials next to him.
Will was in his own world, just like he liked it. It was hard to get Will out of said world whenever he was knee deep in it. Nothing could distract him.
Well, almost nothing. He felt as his nose tigled, that uncomfortable feeling you get when dust gets in your nostrils. He scrunched up his nose, trying his best to prevent a sneeze from coming out. He was successful; as the tingling stopped, he shook his head, getting rid of the feeling entirely.
With that out of the way, he focused once more. The world around him came to a stop once more.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but soon the bell rang. He didn't move. He couldn't because if he did, he would lose all his momentum and all his focus. The green on the tip of his brush was applied smoothly onto the canvas. It was placed with intent and purpose.
And then… Will sneezed. He sighed softly, looking over the canvas to make sure the paint did not end up in the wrong place.
“Bless you…” A voice beside him dragged him out of his head. Will turned his head to the side, eyes wide. “Oh, thank you.”
Will Byers has never been religious, but at that moment, he wished for any god to take him from earth at that very moment. Because not only was Chance Lawson sitting next to him, he had… spoken to him. Oh, the horror.
Chance didn't say anything. He just nodded his head and resumed packing up his things. Will paid him no mind, at least outwardly. His head was filled with various questions. How come he hadn't noticed him? Why did he choose to sit next to Will of all people?
“You’re good at that, y’know.” The brunette looked up again, his green eyes still wide, watching with curiosity. Why was he talking ot him? “You think so? Thank you…” He smiled lightly. Chance nodded again.
“I know so… you’re Mr. O’Hara’s favorite after all.” Will watched as Chance’s lips quirked slightly, trying not to smile.
“I wouldn’t… say that,” Will cleared his throat, eye locking back onto the painting in front of him.
“Are you bothering my star student, Mr. Lawson?” Mr. O’Hara’s voice rang out. Perfect timing. Will cursed mentally.
“Of course not, Sir.” Chance slung his backpack over his shoulder, his eyes catching Will’s with a look of pure unfiltered triumph. Will only rolled his eyes, watching as Chance left with his backpack.
“Are you staying, Will?” Mr. O’Hara asked, putting on his coat. “Yes, Sir. I’ll lock up when I leave.”
“I know you will.”
———
“I’m home!” Will yelled out, his hand closing and locking the door behind him. His hands were covered with paint, but at least he had finished his painting and left it on the drying rack.
He knew Hopper and Jane would be in. His brother and mother were likely working or running errands.
“Will!” He heard as he walked into the living room that Jane and Hopper were sitting on the couch, watching a game show on their TV. “Hi, Jane.”
“Hey, Kid.” Hopper greeted him, his head turning to look at him. “Hey, Dad.”
Hopper smiled. Will had started calling him dad not so long ago, but it still made him happy.
“Is Mom cooking dinner? Or are we ordering?” Will asked, dropping his backpack on the ground and flopping down on the couch. “Ordering… Dad and I were thinking of pizza again.” Jane said, playing with a strand of her hair.
“Pizza sounds good.”
Hopper looked over at him, “How was that meeting with your guidance counselor, Kid?”
“Oh, it was good. I'm going to be the new water boy for the team tomorrow.” He shrugged. “They have a lot of practice, so I'll get the hours done quickly.”
Hopper groaned, turning back to face the TV. “If they give you any problems, you let me know.”
Will laughed, a warm feeling in his chest. “Sure thing, Dad.” He laughed under his breath.