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December 25th, 1986
Will woke up in ‘the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement’ as Max calls it, just like any other day. But today was special, it was Christmas.
Even though Will was not a kid anymore, he still loved Christmas. The buzz of sitting by the tree with his family, seeing the look on their faces when they open the gifts he got them, and opening his own presents — usually something for art or superhero related.
He got out of bed, stretching with his arms above his head, before grabbing a thick sweater and a pair of sweatpants from his drawer to look as presentable as he could — then walking up the stairs and creaking the basement door open.
To his surprise, Mike was standing there with his fist awkwardly mid-air.
“Oh,” Mike brought his hand down to his side. “I was just gonna see if you were awake. My grandparents are about to get here and my mom is on crazy-cleaning mode.”
Will chuckled, closing the door behind him as the boys walked over to the kitchen. Mrs. Wheeler was cooking eggs and pancakes, frantically sweeping as well.
“I can finish that for you.” Will stepped in, taking the broom from her hands and sweeping the already spotless floor.
“Oh, thank you dear.” Mrs. Wheeler murmured, aggressively scrambling the eggs sizzling in the pan and pouring them onto a large plate.
Holly ran in next, “Mom! Mike! Will! It’s Christmas! Santa came!”
“Yes, he did, sweetheart. Now can you please go call Nance and Jonathan down for breakfast and set the table.” Mrs. Wheeler asked, handing Holly a plate of pancakes and syrup.
“On it!” And she was gone just as quick as she ran in.
“Are you going to help, Michael? Or are you just going to stand there?” Mrs. Wheeler hinted.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it.” Mike groaned, he walked a few steps but turned around not soon after. “Do you wanna come with me, Will?”
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure.” He set down the broom, following Mike to the door. They passed by the large tree with presents in various colors of paper, and a bored Ted flipping through channels on the T.V.
Mike opened the door, his grandparents were on the other side. His grandpa said nothing, making his way inside and patting him on the back — his grandma following behind.
“Hello to you guys too.” Mike said shutting the door while rolling his eyes, which earned a chuckle from Will.
A few minutes later Hopper, Will’s mom, and El came over. Everyone was now in the cramped living room to open gifts.
The early morning light filtered through the frost-covered windows, casting soft shadows across the tree twinkling with multi-colored lights. Mike was sitting on the floor — fidgeting with the edge of a small, crinkly wrapped box. Will sat across from him, a little too eager, his hands brushing against the plain brown package tied with a blue ribbon that he’d spent numerous times re-wrapping to perfection.
El’s grin stretched across her entire face when she opened her present from Mike and Will — they had gotten her a shared present because they didn’t have enough money to each get her something and they were both going to get her the same thing anyway — It was a new sketchbook with pencils, as well as a few of the new Wonder-Woman comics she had been asking for. Will had been giving her drawing lessons when he would go to the cabin, El told him that she wanted to start making her own comics.
Mike handed his gift to Will, their fingers brushing slightly. “Merry Christmas,” he said, a little awkwardly. Will carefully unwrapped the box and pulled out a cassette tape. The label had Mike’s half-messy, half-neat handwriting: “For you, all the songs we like… and some you’ll hate, probably.” Will laughed softly, “Mike… this is perfect.”
Then Will handed his own gift. Mike untied the ribbon, unwrapping the paper.
“Look inside.” Will murmured.
Will watched with anticipation as Mike opened the book, scanning the page and looking back up at Will. “You… really thought of everything,” Mike said softly.
On the inside, Will had written a little note: “For your thoughts, your poems… or just to remember me. Merry Christmas, My Paladin.” With a drawing of Mike the Brave at the bottom.
Mike hugged Will when everyone was focused on Holly.
Soon after, the floor was filled with balled-up paper and blooming arguments.
El ran off with Holly to her room, Nancy and Jonathan had just left as well.
“Is that our cue to get out of here?” Mike asked, looking over at Will.
“That would be smart…” The two boys got up, grabbing their gifts and retreating to Mike’s room.3
It had been a little while since they hung out alone — It was usually with The Party. Will would run off to the cabin or lock himself in the basement to avoid blurting something out that could change a lot. He’d been stealing glances next to him at the table, but now they’re going to spend the whole day probably alone.
Mike shut the door behind them, they then sat on the bed; Elbows bumping and knees brushing. They shared a look, Mike was the first to break it.
“So… what do you wanna do?” He asked, looking towards the window. “Oh my god."
“What?” Will asked, looking at Mike with a puzzled expression.
“It’s snowing.” Mike chuckled softly.
It had been cold the past two months, but it had never snowed enough to play in it — Just a thin layer atop the trees. But now there were blankets of white coating the backyard.
The two boys jumped up, rushing to put on their jackets and warmer clothes.
The back door slammed open with force as Mike barreled through it. They had to sneak through the house in order to not have to take Holly with or get roped into a conversation they had no interest in being in.
They stepped out, the snow squishing under their sneakers. Mike ran out and stuck his tongue out, looking up at the sky.
“What are you doing?” Will questioned, running over to Mike.
“I wanna eat a snowflake. Try it, they’re yummy.” He went back to sticking out his tongue.
Will tentatively copied his actions — but instead of looking up, his gaze stayed on Mike.
That’s something Will had always done; hold every look a second longer, savoring the details — copy them to memory so he could copy them on paper.
The two boys continued to play outside; They made snow angels and a very lopsided snowman.
They sat on the ground, cold seeping through their pants.
Mike reached down, on the side out of Will’s view.
A second later a ball of snow hit Will’s shoulder, his hand shot up, rubbing the spot.
“Ow, what was that for?” Will asked, turning his head to look at Mike.
Mike had a cheeky grin stretched across his face. He shrugged his shoulders as if he was innocent.
“You’re going to regret that!” Will teased, grabbing his own handful of snow and pelting it right at Mike.
They went back and forth for a while, running and hiding behind trees.
When they got exhausted, they snuck back inside. Creaking up the stairs as quietly as possible, making their way back to the safety of Mike’s room.
“Oh shit, we didn’t stop in the basement.” Will said with an exhausted huff, collapsing next to Mike on his bed.
“It’s fine. You can wear my clothes.” Mike stood up, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a dark red sweater to hand to Will.
“Oh, uhm. Thanks.” Will stood up, closing the door behind him as he changed in the bathroom, trying to do so as quickly as humanly possible in an attempt to prevent the cold air from seeping into his bones.
He made an effort to fix his hair before he left, knocking on Mike’s door.
“Will? Come in.”
Mike was wearing a dark blue sweater with black sweatpants, his hair was splayed over the pillow. He was writing something down in his new journal.
“What are you writing?” Will questioned, sitting by Mike’s feet.
“Oh, nothing.” He quickly shut the book, placing it on the table next to his bed. “Do you wanna maybe read my new comics?”
“Yeah, sure.” Will replied, scooting to lie next to Mike, their knees brushing.
Mike opened the book, then looked over at Will, at the pages, and back at Will.
“Are- are you cold?” He said finally.
“Yeah, a little. Why?”
“Lift your head.” Mike ordered, Will obeyed. He slid his bicep under Will’s neck, Will’s hand moved to hold the other end of the comic.
“You know, to stay warm.” Mike said like it was the most obvious thing ever, like he wasn’t overthinking every little touch.
“Yeah, I get it.” Will assured, though he did not get it one bit.
They read comics for a while, eventually flipping to their stomachs when Mike’s arm got tired.
“Do you wanna go under the covers?” Mike suggested.
They got under, Mike’s foot hooked around Will’s ankle like it was meant to be there.
It was probably a few hours, but it felt like only a few minutes had passed.
“Dinner!” Mrs. Wheeler yelled from downstairs.
“Oh, we should probably go down now. Has it really been that long?” Mike stood up, stretching.
“I guess.” Wil replied with a shrug.
The two boys walked downstairs. Holly and El were in front of them, chatting about something Will was not listening to. He was too focused on the burning touches from the past couple of hours.
This was the longest Mike and him have hung out in a long time, Will missed it.
Mike’s shoulder bumped Will’s as they reached the bottom of the stairs, they took their usual seats next to each other. But now there was an additional table pushed up next to it, to make room for the guests.
For some reason Murray was there, sitting in Holly’s usual seat — across from Mike.
“Uhm… Why are you in Holly’s seat?” Mike asked sharply.
“Seeing as the little Wheeler has made herself quite comfortable over there next to your super-powered girlfriend I’ve decided to sit here. Is that a problem?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Mike huffs quietly.
“No, no. Not a problem.” Will steps in.
“Great. And what was that you said? No more girlfriend? What’s the deal with that?”
“We just… decided we were better off as friends.”
“Right. Because, you know, sometimes ‘friends’ feels safer.” Murray holds up his fingers to show air-quotes, then he takes a long sip from his glass.
Mike and Will share a knowing look. Yep, that’s alcohol.
Murray starts frantically snapping his fingers, swallowing harshly. “That!” He starts pointing between the boys.
“What?” Will asks. The table has now started to fill in. Plates of food being traded around and served, conversations flowing steady.
“You guys will figure it out soon, or maybe you won't! Only time will tell.” He flashes a cheesy grin, shoveling food into his mouth a second later.
“What are you talking about?” Mike asked with a puzzled look on his face.
“I’m sure Will over there knows exactly what I’m talking about. You know, it’s pretty fascinating. One of you is oblivious, and the other one is practically broadcasting on every frequency. Real efficient dynamic you’ve got here.”
Will feels his face turn warmer, he looks over at Mike, who looks just as confused as before.
“I’m still not following…” Mike looks at Will, then Murray, then back at Will.
“I’m just saying, if there were awards for emotional repression you’d win. And you–” Murray gestures at Mike “–wouldn't even realize there was a competition. At some point, kid, you’re gonna have to ask yourself why he looks at you like that.”
“Like what?” Mike asks.
“Exactly.” Murray says with a sense of triumph, leaning back in his chair.
Mike turns to Will, like he’s genuinely trying to figure it out. Will immediately looks away.
“...Seriously, what does that mean? Is no one going to tell me?” Mike pleads, looking around.
“Like I said, you’ll hopefully figure it out eventually.” Murray says, like he’s bored of the conversation. Hopefully he’ll hound somebody else now.
Will looks back at Mike, who’s now blissfully eating his food.
Blissfully unaware of the disaster in Will’s brain right now.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Dinner ends and everyone clears from the table, already washing their dishes. Mike and Will don’t waste another second: they jump up, wash their dishes, and carefully sneak away to Mike’s room once again.
Once they make it back, Will lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.
They both plop back down on the bed, exhausted from the day.
“Hey, Will?” Mike sits up, pulling his knees to his chest.
“Yeah?” Will copies his motions.
“Do you- uhm- know what Murray was talking about?”
“Oh. No, no. He was probably just drunk rambling.” Will felt that usual flush make its way back to his face.
“Oh, yeah. Right.” Mike’s eyes fall to the floor then back up at Will. “Do you wanna sleep in the basement tonight? You know, like we used to. I know Jonathan doesn’t even sleep down there anymore, plus they’re staying with Steve and Robin today.”
“Sure.” They both stand up, grabbing some of their presents and moving down to the basement for the night.
Will shuts the door behind them, they make their way to Will’s mattress, both sitting side by side.
“I can put on a movie if you want, just so it’s not silent.” Will asks, setting down his sketchbook.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Go ahead.”
Will stood up, picking out a movie and playing it.
He picked Labyrinth, a movie him and Mike had seen a million times since it came out earlier that year.
Will sat back down, now facing Mike — who was writing in his journal again.
“When can I read your poems?” Will pleaded.
“Eventually…”
“I have a question.” Will asked nervously, anticipating Mike’s answer.
“What’s up?” Mike shut the book, facing his attention to Will.
“Can I draw you? Like a still-life.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Mike said with an exciting edge to his voice, “Draw me like one of your French girls.”
“Oh my god you’re such an idiot.” Will was annoyed with his reference, though it still earned a chuckle from him.
Will began drawing, the cold of the basement must’ve been taking its toll on Mike. His nose and cheeks were starting to turn pink.
Will took frequent glances at Mike, even though he had copied every last freckle to memory years ago.
Will even learned how to draw faces based off of Mike’s. Every time Will drew someone who wasn’t Mike, they still had little pieces of him.
The dark lighting of the room made the shadows reflect differently than usual, new practice for Will.
Mike started shifting around, his shoulders shaking slightly.
“Are you cold? You won't sit still and your face is all red.”
“Oh, my face is red?” Mike asked, frantically bringing his hand to his face, covering it.
“Yeah,” Will chuckled nervously.
Mike moved his hands and sat still — this lasted a few seconds before he was moving around again, tapping his fingers on his leg.
“Mike. Sit still. You’re being so annoying.” Will tried to sound bothered, but his playful tone soaked through.
“But it’s so hard to sit still.” Mike said, throwing his head back with a groan.
“I’m almost done, just a few more minutes.”
“Fine.”
A few minutes passed, Will flipped the page around. His new pencils worked nicely — good to have since his others were in California.
“Wow. You make me look so… wow.” Mike’s eyes widened as he slowly grabbed the book from Will’s hand, holding it closer, their fingers brushing in the process.
“I think you make me look better than I really do.”
“I don’t know about that.” Will runs an anxious hand through his hair.
After that, they actually watch the movie. Their backs to the couch and their sides completely flushed, a blanket draped over them.
Will feels Mike’s head on his shoulder, he turns his head slightly and notices Mike’s eyes are closed.
“Mike?” Will whispers.
He whines in return, scooting closer.
“Mike, let’s lay down.”
He nods in approval, slowly scooting to lay on Will’s mattress.
Will copies his movements, lying on his back.
Mike moves closer, resting his head on Will’s shoulder again. His dark curls tickle Will’s cheek.
“Cold.” Mike mutters.
“Goodnight, Mike.”
Will falls asleep to Mike’s soft, sleep-filled breathing.
No matter how many years pass, it’s good to know they’ll always be close.