Archive of Our Own

Mike is almost focusing on the movie when Dustin tries to steal his popcorn. He smacks his hand away.

“Get your own,” he hisses, over El’s lap. How she missed Dustin’s arm snaking across her waist, he doesn’t know. Then again, she likes messing with Mike more than she does Dustin. Has even back before they broke up. They were pretending to be in love and she was throwing popcorn at his head with her mind.

“Pay attention!” El jabs her fingers in his armpit while he’s hovered over her, making him jump back into place. The bowl of popcorn might’ve fallen out of his lap if it weren’t for Will barely managing to catch it, minus a few stray pieces that fall onto the carpet. Oh well. Hopper can clean it.

Technically, it’s Joyce’s place, since she bought the house about half a year before he and El officially moved in, which is the only reason Mike decides he’s going to clean it up himself. He would never ask Joyce to do such a thing.

Will lifts his hand and the four kernels float into the air and dart over to the trash can, barely within his view in the kitchen.

“Thanks,” Mike whispers, hoping to avoid El getting on his case again. He worms his hand into his pocket, where he knows he has some somewhere, making a pleased hum when he pulls a crumpled tissue out for Will to wipe the blood from his nose. He tries to carry them around everywhere, now that two of his friends have what pretty much amounts to chronic nosebleeds, given how often they take advantage of their powers. (Not that Mike can blame them. If he had superpowers, God knows he’d never do anything without them.)

“You never carried tissues around for me,” El grumbles, even though she’d been the one that wanted them to pay attention.

“They are for you. You and Will,” Mike says, affronted. Just because he only started carrying them around after Will’s powers manifested didn’t mean he wasn’t offering them to her too.

“Just saying,” she adds.

“Shut up,” Mike says. “Pay attention.”

El narrows her eyes and for a moment Mike expects severe retribution, but then Lucas gasps at the movie and she whips her head around, staring wide-eyed at the scene.

Mike doesn’t even know the characters names at this point. There’s a brunette girl—he’s pretty sure she’s the same from the beginning of the movie, though her messy hair has been tamed into luscious curls, her glasses are gone (Can she even see?), and her hoodie and sweatpants have been exchanged for a dress with a neckline that plunges halfway to her waist. That cannot be comfortable. She’s standing in the middle of a party, drink in hand, talking to some other girls. Mike couldn’t tell you their relevance to the plot if Vecna returned and demanded it in exchange for his life.

“Is he going to show up?” Max asks, just as focused as El. And Lucas, apparently, though Dustin and Will seem fairly intrigued as well. Seriously, is Mike the only one not enjoying this? He’s never letting El pick the movie again.

“There!” El says, pointing at the screen like they can’t see the camera panning to show a black haired, blue eyed man in a suit with the most chiseled jawline Mike has ever seen. He stops in the doorway of the room, staring with an intense smoulder, then walks forward with a steady purpose.

El’s biting her nails at this point like it’s an action movie at its climax, as the man grabs the girl by the arms and kisses her in front of everyone, the camera spinning around the room to capture the kiss from every angle.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he says. “Can you ever forgive me?”

She nods, then kisses him again, and Mike is completely checked out.

“Boo,” Dustin says, throwing a kernel of popcorn at the screen. Where did he get that? Did he steal from Mike’s bowl somehow? What the hell? “That’s gross. Why are you making everyone there watch?” He has a good point. Mike wouldn’t want to see that. 

“You’d better throw that away,” Will says, pointing at the mess.

“Just use your powers.”

“No.”

“You did it for Mike.”

Will flushes. “Yeah, but his was an accident. Go throw it away or I’ll tell my mom.” Dustin gets up immediately.

“It’s romantic,” El says, as the main characters finally talk through the misunderstandings that have plagued the entire film. “Come on, Will. Back me up.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Will says, and Mike’s scoff dies in his throat. Well, maybe if he thinks about it… “I mean, not that it would ever happen to me,” he snorts.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean,” Lucas says, catching the self-deprecating tone almost as fast as Mike does.

Will rolls his eyes. “Much as I would love to kiss a guy in public, no one is willing to join me as town pariah. Trust me, it’s not exactly a party out here.”

Mike frowns. When Will moved back to Hawkins, it didn’t take long for the rumors to start back up. At first, the Party fought tooth and nail to deny them. Even in the midst of battle planning, none of them would hesitate to stop and defend Will’s honor. Eventually though, Will confessed to them that the rumors were true, and once he had their acceptance on his side, he told them he didn’t care about the rumors. The Party stopped denying them, and while Mike was pretty sure Will had never explicitly confirmed it to anyone (outside of their friends and family), everyone at school knew, and they treated him as such.

People have tried things with him. They’ve tried to beat him up or call him names. But the names have never bothered Will as much as the rest of them. (“Once you’ve been ‘Zombie Boy’ everything else is pretty lame in comparison,” Will had said once, but Mike knew it still affected him. He was just better at moving past it.) As for the violence? Well. Will has powers now. And he isn’t afraid to use them. A rock in a path that hadn’t been there before, a momentary blackout that gave him the chance to get away. Will has never been caught, and if he ever is, well… Mike once watched him kill a demogorgon with his mind, he’s pretty positive Will could handle a high school bully.

“It’ll happen,” El says firmly. “You are going to find a cute boy and he is going to kiss you in the middle of a crowd just like that.”

“No he’s not,” Will says.

“If he’s not willing to then he is not the right guy.”

“Jane, I don’t think that’s the right determinant for a good boyfriend.”

“No, she’s got a point,” Dustin says through a mouthful of popcorn. Mike glances down at his bowl, which is noticeably emptier. What the hell? How is he doing that? “Don’t worry, Will. Your romance will come.”

“Whatever,” Will snorts, smiling as he shakes his head. He leans back against the couch, shoulder pressed against Mike’s. Mike gives him a questioning look, quickly, to ensure that he’s really okay, that they didn’t push too far. Will elbows him lightly, confirming that all is okay.

“Jesus, you look cold,” Mike says as he opens the door, eyeing Will’s windswept hair and flushed cheeks.

“I biked all the way here!” Will complains, gesturing for Mike to move aside so he can come in. It may be nearly summer, but the past week or so has been chillier than average, leaving Mike worried about his friend. Will’s been better with the cold the past few years, with Vecna dead, but it still gets in his head at times.

“Come on,” Mike says, grabbing Will by his ice-cold hands and dragging him up the stairs to his room.

“Oh, your room is warm,” Will sighs as Mike shoves him onto the bed. Will doesn’t hesitate to grab the blanket and bury himself in it, scooting back so Mike has room to crawl in beside him.

Mike grabs the corner of the blanket and Will grabs it back, already cocooned in the three seconds it took Mike to hop on the bed. “Oh my god, you’re hogging all of the blankets. Let me have some!”

“No,” Will says, dragging the word out. “You’ll let all the cold air in!”

“It’s been two seconds! The outside air is the same as the inside air.”

Mike wrestles with him, trying to find an edge that he can grab ahold of and cackling when he finally does. Will shrieks as his cocoon is broken and Mike throws the blanket out so it covers both of them, tucking it neatly behind himself the way Will always does so less cold air can get in.

“Ugh,” Will says. Mike presses his cold toes to Will’s ankle, at the edge of his socks, and Will doesn’t hesitate to kick his foot away. “Leave me alone.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be doing homework?” Mike says, not too concerned. After all, he’s the one who invited Will into his bed. And besides, Will’s comfortable. He’s not going to ruin that for something as meaningless as statistics.
“No,” Will denies.

“Did you pass the last test?” Mike asks.

“For what? Stats?” Mike hums a positive.

“Yeah. I got an 84.”

“Nice. I got a 76. Harold hates me.”

“Maybe if you stopped calling him Harold he’d like you a little better.”

Mike sticks his nose up. “The only thing that effects my grade should be my performance, not the name I refer to him with. It’s totally political.”

“You sound like Mr. Clarke.”

“There are worse people to sound like.”

Will snorts, dragging Mike’s side of the blanket more towards himself.

“You have your fair share,” Mike says, desperately holding on. “This is mine.”

Will laughs as they wrestle with it. “No,” he gasps. “You don’t need it.”

Mike lets go, making Will fall backwards at the sudden lack of a fight, then throws himself on top of him, Will letting out an oof as he lands, and lets the blanket cover them both.

“That’s better.”

“You’re squashing me,” Will says, wriggling under him.

“This is the price you pay,” Mike responds. “You don’t want to share? Done. Now we’re a sandwich.”

“This is still sharing,” Will argues, correctly. “You’re just crushing me too. Go get your own blankets.”

“They’re all my blankets, it’s my room.”

“That’s a bad argument,” Will says. “It’s full of… of fallacies.”

“Do you even remember what a fallacy is? What’s your grade in English?”

Will’s jaw drops. “B plus, asshole! Not all of us are master writers. You’re mean.” He wiggles beneath him, but Mike just collapses further, until his chin is pressed against his shoulder and he can feel his ear on his cheek. It’s cold. He presses a little closer, to try and warm him up a bit more.

“How’s Caroline?” Will asks, completely out of the blue.

“Hmm?” Mike says. That came from nowhere. “The… girl from my English class?”

“Yeah, the one Lucas said thought you were cute. You end up talking to her?”

“Not really,” he says, confused. Why was Will asking him about girls, of all things? “She’s not my type.”

“Okay,” Will says, a bit tense, and Mike realizes that he might be uncomfortable having Mike laying on top of him. He rolls off, and this time Will doesn’t try to steal the blanket away.

“What about you?” Mike asks.

Will shifts so he’s on his side and Mike mirrors the movement, leaving them face to face. Will’s cheek presses into the pillow. His hair is in his eyes a bit. He needs a haircut.

“What about me?”

“Any cute boys catching your eye?”

Will turns red, the way he always does when one of them brings up boys or relationships in front of him. Mike had asked him, once, if it made him uncomfortable, and Will had denied it.

“It just feels weird knowing that I’m allowed to talk about it,” he had admitted. “I spent so long making sure no one ever found out, and now…”

“No,” Will says now, avoiding his eyes. “Not really.”

“There aren’t any cute guys in Hawkins anyway,” Mike tries to comfort him. “All the guys at our school are stupid ugly.”

“Are you including yourself in that statistic?” Will says cheekily. Mike kicks him in the leg. “Oh sorry,” Will says. “Forgot you don’t know how to do stats.”

“76% is passing,” Mike argues, fighting back his grin as he and Will go back to wrestling.

“Ack!” Will says when Mike manages to steal the blanket away from him. “Mike.”

Mike grins as he wraps it around himself while Will fights to worm his way back under.

“Mike, I’m cold.” He gives him an exaggerated pout, and Mike sticks his tongue out at him.

They stand at a stalemate for a long moment before Mike gives in, lifting the blanket so Will can crawl under again. They don’t speak as they find a position that’s comfortable, breathing in sync to the quiet hum of the A/C running overhead. In all honesty, Mike’s a little hot under the blanket. But if he dares let the cold air in to let himself out, Will might just turn those powers of his against him.

It doesn’t take long for Will’s breathing to even out in the telltale sound of sleep, and it’s even less time before it spreads to Mike and he finds himself dozing off.

When he wakes, it’s nearly noon, and Mike grimaces. So much for doing homework. The blanket was kicked off by one or both of them at some point, and instead Mike finds his legs tangled up with Will’s, Will’s head is pressed against Mike’s chest and he can feel the puff of soft breaths on his stomach. He feels warm, and Mike carefully tries to maneuver the blanket over him again.

Mike can only see half of Will’s face with how he’s pressed against him, but Will sleeping is one of Mike’s favorite ways to view him. The stress he wears around fades away, and he looks younger, somehow. It reminds Mike of when they were kids, running around without a care in the world before everything went to shit. Mike brushes Will’s hair out of his eyes and thinks offhandedly that he wouldn’t mind waking up like this every day for the rest of his life.

His eyes stay fixed on Will’s face for another twenty or so minutes, until Will’s nose starts scrunching and Mike knows he’s about to start waking up. His eyes flutter before opening, a yawn pulling at his mouth, and Mike catches the moment he realizes that Mike is awake in how his eyes widen and he pulls back, a faint redness to his cheeks.

“You could’ve woken me up,” he points out.

“You seemed like you needed the rest,” Mike tells him, honestly. Will doesn’t have an argument for that. After all, he’s told Mike before how nightmares about Vecna still plague him most nights. How even when he does sleep, it’s never truly deep enough.

“What time is it?” Will says, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Lunchtime,” Mike says, stretching his arms. Will’s head had been half on top of one of them, and it tingles as he shakes it out. “You hungry?”

“Yeah,” Will says. “I could eat.”

Mike sits on the counter eating slices of apple while Will prepares sandwiches for them. He’d be happy to help, but Will claims he never gets the right ratio of peanut butter to jelly, and Mike can’t deny he’s wrong. It’s weirdly domestic as he offers Will an apple slice and Will just grabs it in his teeth.

“Do not try to eat that thing in one bite,” Mike warns as Will tries to do exactly that.

“Mm hm hm,” Will argues, cheeks puffed out, gesturing to the bread and knife in his hands.

“If you choke, I just want you to remember that I don’t know the Heimlich.”

Will rolls his eyes, but doesn’t stop. Thankfully, he doesn’t choke.

They eat their sandwiches on the couch, since Mike’s mom isn’t home to tell them not to. It’s a comfortable kind of silence, the kind that comes when you’re with someone you’ve known most of your life.

“It’s hot now,” Mike says after inhaling his sandwich. Will is still chewing. To be fair, Mike had always been one to eat quickly, but sometimes he thinks Will intentionally slows down just to piss him off.

Will took a minute to chew before he swallowed. “Uh huh,” he says, taking another bite. Mike narrows his eyes at him. He’s definitely doing it on purpose.

“Do you want to get ice cream?”

Will smiles, a streak of peanut butter on the corner of his mouth somehow. “Let me finish eating first.”

Mike sighs, licking his thumb and leaning forward to wipe the peanut butter off Will’s cheek. “You’re going to take another hour and a half to finish, I swear.”

Will is staring at him with wide eyes for some reason, but Mike barely notices, licking the peanut butter off his thumb. “I’m gonna go grab my wallet, okay? We can bike into town.”

“Uh huh,” Will says, like he’s not even listening. Rude.

Biking with Will has remained one of Mike’s favorite activities his whole life. From the time they were on training wheels together, falling over because they couldn’t stop looking at each other, to biking to school together when Will and his family lived with Mike’s, to now, Will just radiates this peaceful energy that makes Mike feel… safe.

They don’t try to talk while they bike, but every so often, Will will shoot him a look, and Mike will catch the meaning in a heartbeat. A tilt of the head towards the road means Do you want to follow the street or take the side path? A hand on his pocket means You’re paying. A begging grin means Can we stop by the police station?

Mike groans. He hates stopping by the police station. He gives Will a look of his own. Ice cream first. Then we can say hi to Hopper.

Will grins and speeds ahead of him. They lock their bikes together to a tree outside the ice cream place. A small joint that barely survived the Scoops Ahoy craze back when the mall was open. Will’s been insistent on locking their bikes up ever since Officer Powell mentioned how common it is for bikes to get stolen. Mike still thinks it’s a waste of time (there are windows inside, they would see if anyone tried to take them), but he doesn’t say a word as Will wraps the cord through the tire and the frame of each bike.

The bell rings as they enter, and the owner, Susan, smiles warmly at them. They’ve been coming here since they were kids, and while Mike is wholly convinced Susan only puts up with him, she loves Will. Mike can’t blame her for that. Will is easy to love.

If Mike were a more thoughtful person, that thought might have triggered something in his mind. However, as it stands, he doesn’t think anything of it.

“What are we feeling today?” Susan asks as they approach the register. Will’s eyes are bright as he looks between all the flavors in front of them. His eyes linger on the chocolate peanut butter, but he eventually glances away.

“Cookie dough,” Will says. A bold choice. He’s been trying to branch out lately when it comes to food, trying new things. But Mike isn’t sure if this was the best idea. Will likes eating cookie dough, but he tends to prefer the baked pieces more.

“Chocolate peanut butter,” Mike tells her. Will glances at him, seeming surprised, but Mike doesn’t look at him. Susan hands out their ice cream, giving a generous scoop to both, and Mike pays quickly so they can sit outside and eat.

“Hmm,” Will says once they’re outside. Of course he would wait until Susan couldn’t hear his displeasure, Mike thinks fondly.

“Can I try?” Mike asks, holding up his spoon. Will offers his cup easily, and Mike takes a scoop. It’s good, really. It’s not the best ice cream he’s ever had, but Mike would happily eat it.

“That’s good,” he exaggerates. “Wanna trade?”

Will looks at him suspiciously, trying to gauge if he’s lying, but Mike does everything in his power to keep his face blank. Will loves the chocolate peanut butter ice cream, and it doesn’t take long for him to give in, offering his cup to Mike for them to trade. He looks a lot more pleased when he tries his usual favorite, and that’s enough to make Mike giddy with success at his heist.

“Police station’s only a block away,” Will reminds him.

Mike groans. “One of these days, Hopper is going to see me and arrest me for existing.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Will says, shoving his shoulder as they start walking that direction. It’s not worth it to untie their bikes for such a short trip, and the sun is out now. “He doesn’t hate you.”

“He does. He does hate me and he’s still holding a grudge from when I was dating El. I swear to god, last time I was over he looked at me like he wanted to slit my throat.”

“You sure he wasn’t just zoned out? He always looks mad when he’s not paying attention.”

Mike shook his head. “I’m telling you, he’s out for blood.”

Will seems fully in his element as they enter the police station, and it’s easy to see why when everyone in the room looks at him like he’s a celebrity.

“Well hello to you,” Flo says, and Will practically skips up to her. “And what have you been up to?”

“Not much,” Will says. “We were in the area. Figured I’d stop by to say hi.”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t. It’s been weeks since you’ve been by.”

Will laughs, pleased. Mike doesn’t say hi to Flo. Instead, he busies himself with looking around the room. There’s a guy he recognizes from school. Not in any of his classes, but in his grade. He’s pretty sure they shared a few classes in middle school. Mike can’t think of his name. They make eye contact for a moment, and he scowls at Mike and Will, pure disgust in his eyes.

It’s not something Mike is unused to, unfortunately. People are cruel to Will, these days. Mike knows this guy can’t afford to pick a fight. Not here at least. Everyone at the station adores Will, and they’ve made more than a few cases of Will “instigating violence” (read: punching someone for calling him a slur) disappear. Mike glares back at him just as intently, until he looks away.

“Hey kiddo,” Hopper says, coming out from his office. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

Will smiles up at Hopper as he comes by to give him a side hug, pressing a kiss to his head, and Mike can’t stand to be mad about it. Sure, he has his own beef with Hopper, but Will adores him, and Mike can’t find it in himself to be upset. If anyone deserves a father figure who loves him, it’s Will. And no matter how much Mike wishes Joyce had picked anyone but Hopper, if it makes Will happy, Mike can live with it.

“Last minute decision,” Will tells him as he pops a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

Hopper glances at him. “No new flavors today?”

Will pulls the spoon from his mouth and gestures to Mike. “Wasn’t my favorite. Mike and I traded.”

Hopper gives Mike an approving nod, if a bit knowing. “That was nice of him. Lucky that he chose your favorite flavor too.”

“Uh huh,” Will says, unsuspecting. Mike narrows his eyes at Hopper, who just seems amused.

“I have to head out,” Hopper tells them, messing up Will’s hair. “Got a call to take care of. It was nice to see you, kid. Tell your mom I say hi.”

“You might beat me home,” Will mentions, and Mike hides his grin. “Mike and I are supposed to be working on homework but we haven’t even started.”

Hopper snorts. “In that case, I’ll tell her you say hi.”

“Got it,” Will says. Hopper leaves, and Will takes a moment to say goodbye to Flo and chat with Officer Callahan about some movie, and then they’re off. The boy from school watches them go.

Mike can tell something is wrong the second he parks his bike. He can see his friends have all arrived by their bikes next to his. He’d been running a bit late, and it was enough of a trend that he wasn’t surprised his friends hadn’t waited for him. (Annoyed? Yes. Surprised? No.)

The problem was the stares. It felt like everyone was looking at him. In a way, it reminded him of when the news dropped that Will was missing, and everyone had wondered what he knew. Mike stares at Will’s bike, the only one latched onto the bike rack with a lock, and reminds himself that it’s not then.

Something is definitely going on, though. A jock snickers when he walks past, a pair of students frantically turn away the second they catch him looking at them.

There’s a group in front of his locker, and Mike wonders if he’s about to get jumped for a moment before he recognizes his friends. Will isn’t with them.

Max looks pissed, as does Dustin, while El and Lucas mostly seem concerned.

“What the hell is going on?” Mike asks as he steps into the circle they make around him to put his stuff away.

“You haven’t heard?” Dustin asks.

“I just got here,” Mike says. “But I know something’s up. Why is everyone staring at me? Where’s Will?”

“Back off, Rogers,” Max snaps as a guy on the basketball team steps a bit too close. “He ran off when we figured out what was going on,” Max tells him in a much gentler tone.

“What’s going on?” Mike asks.

“Some guy saw you two yesterday,” Lucas explains. “At the police station? He told everyone you guys were on a date together.”

Ice floods Mike’s veins. Oh shit. The guy at the police station. Mike had assumed he was glaring because Will was gay, but of course there was more to it. They had shown up together, matching ice cream, and Will had said to Hopper that they’d switched cups and that they were planning on spending the rest of the day together.

“Shit,” Mike swears.

“It wasn’t a date, was it?” El asks, curious.

“Wha—no,” Mike says, flustered. “We just got ice cream and then Will wanted to say hi to Hop.

“I figured,” Dustin says with a sigh. “Either way, Will was really freaked out. He didn’t seem to want to be followed.”

“I’m gonna go find him,” Mike says, slamming his locker shut.

“Hey Mike,” some idiot Mike doesn’t recognize calls. Mike glances up. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Rage fills Mike’s chest. What an asshole. The guy cackles as he walks off with his friends, and he immediately trips on thin air in the middle of the hallway.

“Thanks,” Mike says to El, who wipes the blood away on her hand. “I’m gonna go find Will.”

Will is exactly where he’d expected him to be, hiding under the stairs at the end of the hall. It’s dark, and no one really goes in there, mainly because it’s right by the principal’s office, which means there’s no way to hide if he catches you. His head is buried in his knees, and Mike can see him shaking, his hands pulling at his hair.

He sits down next to him, close as he can get without touching, and listens to Will’s shaky breaths.

“Go away, El,” Will says. Mike frowns. He usually calls her Jane these days, especially at school. He must be really upset.

“Not El,” he says, and Will’s head shoots up. His eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s clearly been crying.

“Mike,” he says, then his face falls as he realizes Mike’s heard the rumors. “Mike, I’m so sorry,” he says.

Mike stares at him. “What? Will, why are you sorry?”

“This is all my fault,” Will cries. “If I hadn’t insisted we go see Hopper this never would’ve happened. I should’ve known.”

“Known what? That some idiot was gonna spread rumors? This is not your fault, Will. It’s going to be fine.”

“No, it’s not, Mike. I don’t care what people think about me, but I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire. I told everyone it was a lie, I swear.”

“I’m not worried about some stupid rumor, I’m worried about you,” Mike says. “Are you okay, Will? I mean, this is the worst it’s been in a while.”

Will smiles at him, a fake thing that Mike can barely stand to look at. “I can handle it. But you—”

“Will, if you can deal with this shit every day, I can handle a few weeks of it until this dies down. I’ll be fine.”

Will doesn’t look entirely convinced as the bell rings overhead, but when Mike stands up and offers him a hand, he accepts it and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. The second he’s standing, he lets go and vanishes into the crowd. Mike tries not to think about how cold his hand feels.

Mike fucking hates lab days. Maybe he wouldn’t mind it if he had an actual friend in the class. Lucas and Dustin share chemistry class, and their teacher had actually let them pick partners, of which Mike was extremely jealous. Of course he wouldn’t be so lucky. Instead, he got paired up with the dumbest fucking jock of all time. 

Ian is… a character. He isn’t usually cruel, although sometimes he says things that make Mike’s blood boil.

Today, when Mike walks into the room, he instantly knows he’s about to piss him off. There’s a shit-eating grin on his face, a bit too smug and a bit too punchable. Fucking football players. Mike wants to punt him into the sun before he’s even seated.

“Have a nice date, Wheeler?”

Mike doesn’t even bother responding, choosing instead to grab his notebook out of his bag and try to arrange his workstation.

“I bet it was nice,” Ian continues, and Mike can hear how funny he thinks he is without even looking at him. “Flowers and ice cream and watching the sunset. Sharing a kiss under the moon.”

“Shut up, Ian,” he finally snaps.

“He speaks! How’s the boyfriend?”

Mike slams his pencil down on the desk with vicious force, imagining himself jabbing it through Ian’s stupid fucking face. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Rumors say otherwise,” Ian says in a sing-song voice.

“Rumors are stupid,” Mike retorts. “It was hot out. We got ice cream. Will said hi to his step-dad. We went home and studied. That’s it.”

For obvious reasons, he leaves out the nap. And the sharing food. And the movie they’d watched together. Just because he knows it won’t help his case.

“No way,” Ian says, shaking his head. “No way you’d still be hanging around him if you weren’t sucking face.”

Mike whips his head around to face him. “What, because he’s gay?” He says the word loudly, not even trying to hide it, and half the room goes silent. It’s uncomfortable, and tense, and Mike doesn’t back down.

“I mean,” Ian grumbles. “If you want people thinking you’re a queer, then that’s totally up to you.”

“It isn’t contagious,” Mike snaps. “If seeing someone kiss boys makes you want to kiss boys, then you probably already felt like doing that, hmm?” 

A few kids around them snicker, and Ian rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. I’d be freaked out if some gay kid was in love with me. That’s just… ugh.”

“Will’s not in love with me,” Mike hisses.

“Bullshit,” Ian laughs. “That guy looks at you like you’ve got the sun shining out of your ass. It’s disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting,” Mike says, clenching his fists. God, if he says another fucking word Mike might just punch him, which would definitely end with him getting the shit beaten out of him.

Luckily, class begins, and Mike is left glaring down at his notebook instead, heart pounding with worry. If it’s this bad for him, what must Will be going through?

“What did you say?” Max asks as Mike climbs onto the bench across from her. They’ve snagged an outside table today, which is a total score. Mike isn’t sure if it’s because the weather is just shy of too uncomfortable, or because they’re being avoided by association, but either way he isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“To who?”

Max shrugs, elbowing Dustin beside her with the movement. Next to him is Will, who looks completely checked out. Mike frowns at the sight of him. Lucas and El are on either side of him, and they both shoot Mike worried looks, as though he’s the one to worry about.

“Now everyone’s saying Will’s in love with you and you rejected him,” Dustin explains.

“Oh shit,” Mike says, banging his head on the table. “It’s my stupid fucking lab partner. God, I hate him. I’m so sorry, Will.”

“It’s fine,” Will assures him, though his voice is numb. “It’s better like this.”

Mike looks at him like he’s grown another head. “No, it’s not. It’s bad enough when a guy gets rejected by a girl. People are going to be so mean. Maybe you should just go home.”

Will looks up at him, half glaring. “At least now you’re not caught in the crossfire.”

“Wha - I don’t care about that, Will. I’m just—it’s not—”

He stuffs his food into his mouth, unable to form sentences any longer. Will doesn’t speak again for the rest of lunch, and Mike spends the second half of the day being praised.

It’s like everyone has forgotten the cruelty with which they acted this morning. They’re smiling at him, calling him “so brave”, like he’s some kind of hero for “putting up with Will’s obvious feelings”. It’s nauseating. By sixth period, Mike has started yelling at anyone who gets within three feet of him.

He’s about ready to kill someone by the time he finally exits the school, Max beside him. She’s the only one who shares seventh period with him, closest to the front gates, and so usually they wait by their bikes together for the others to catch up.

Mike freezes in the middle of the walkway.

“You’re blocking traffic,” Max says, dragging him off onto the dirt.

“Where’s Will’s bike?”

She frowns. “He must’ve left already.”

“His class is on the other side of the school,” Mike reminds her.

“Yeah, and people are being more awful than usual today. You can’t blame him for wanting to get away from it.”

“I’m not blaming him, I’m just—” He’s not just avoiding them, he wants to say. He’s avoiding me. “Whatever,” he huffs instead. “I’ve got to go.”

“Seriously? You too?” Max asks, but Mike just grabs his bike and throws his leg over it. “Alright then. I’ll tell the others you hate them.”

Mike flips her off and bikes away before she can respond. His mind is a madhouse, twisting all over the place, circling around and around until it inevitably lands back on Will. He wants to fix this. It’s what he does. It’s what he’s supposed to be good at—helping his friends. But he doesn’t know how to fix anything this time. People are going to say what they’re going to say, and everything Mike can think of just seems like it’ll make things worse.

It’s not like Will can go back in the closet, at this point, not that he’d want to. And nothing Mike says or does will convince a hoard of homophobic teenagers that there’s nothing wrong with being gay. He can’t convince them that Will doesn’t have a crush on him because they just think he’s “oblivious”. Which is ridiculous. Mike would know if Will had a crush on him. And Will would never have a crush on him anyway. Will is headstrong but quiet, calm and assured. Sarcastic and funny and kind and wonderful.

There are a lot of things that Mike doesn’t know, but he knows this for certain: If Will were to fall in love, it wouldn’t be with an idiot like Mike.

He doesn’t even bother propping his bike up against a wall, simply tossing it aside when he gets home, nausea twirling in his gut. Hopefully Will is alright. He has to be, right? Should Mike call? Would Will want him to call?

“Don’t slam the door!” his mother calls from the kitchen as he comes inside. Mike huffs. It is not that big of a deal.

He marches past where she’s chopping vegetables on the counter and fills a glass with water to chug it, then slams it down on the counter.

“Are you okay?” she asks, a suspicious look on her face.

“I’m fine,” Mike snaps. “I’m going to my room.”

“Michael,” she says sharply, raising an eyebrow at him. Mike folds in a heartbeat.

“It just - rough day at school,” he admits.

Her face falls. “What happened?”

“Some guy saw Will and I at the police station yesterday and told everyone we were on a date. So I told this guy when he asked that we aren’t dating—obviously—and now everyone thinks Will’s in love with me and I rejected him and he’s just this pathetic gay kid. They’re being awful to him, Mom.”

“Oh honey,” she sighs, setting down the knife. “I’m so proud of you for sticking with him through all of this.”

Mike’s jaw falls open. “Oh come on, Mom. Not you too! How am I the brave one! Will’s the one who has to put up with all this shit every day.”

“Language,” she says, no bite to it. “And Michael, I know it can be… awkward to think about, but have you ever considered that maybe Will does have feelings for you?”

Mike stares at her like she’s grown a second head. Maybe Vecna has returned and replaced everyone he knows with evil clones. It makes more sense than this shit.

“No, Mom, because that’s ridiculous. It’s Will.”

She snorts, dumping her pile of onion and celery and carrot into a pot. “Alright, Mike. Just… be careful. If you ever feel unsafe, you just give me a call. Or ditch school.”

Mike can’t help a startled laugh. “Mom! You aren’t supposed to encourage me to skip.”

She shrugs, grinning at him. Mike loves his mom. His dad doesn’t really seem to care that Will is gay, which is more than Mike ever expected, but his mom has just been… overwhelmingly supportive. She’s made sure that Will knows how much she cares, and Mike knows how much it means to Will.

“Well, sometimes the system isn’t right,” she says. “Go get your homework done, sweetheart. Things will work themselves out.”

Mike rolls his eyes and grabs a bag of chips from the pantry before stomping off to his room. He won’t admit it, but his mom did make him feel better, even if only a bit.

The girl who sits behind him is staring. Mike is trying to ignore it, already irritated by the way Ian is fucking around even though they’re supposed to be prepping samples, but he can feel her eyes in the back of his head.

Ian drops a beaker, nearly shattering the glass on the desk, and Mike can’t take it anymore. He spins around, glaring at her.

“Can I help you?” he spits out. She blinks, like she’s surprised to be caught even though she’s been drilling holes in his head for the past twenty minutes.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring,” Mike tells her, like she’s stupid. She might just be, with the way she’s acting.

“Oh,” she says. “No, it’s just… I just wanted to tell you…” She sighs, and Mike knows he’s going to hate whatever comes out of her mouth next. “You’re really brave.”

He grips the edge of his desk tightly. “I don’t know what you could possibly be referring to,” he says lowly.

Ian snorts. “Come on, man. Everyone’s talking about it. I mean, really? You still wanna hang around that que—”

Mike slams his hand down as he stands, leaning over Ian’s stupid fucking face with a glare. “Finish that sentence and see what happens,” he hisses. 

Someone giggles, amused at the thought of Mike Wheeler threatening a football player of all people, but Mike doesn’t think any of this shit is funny. Will has to be going through so much worse if this is how bad it is for Mike.

“Jeez, fine,” Ian says, not seeming at all threatened. “Touchy subject.”

The teacher gives Mike a pointed look, and he sits back down, nails digging into his palms. He doesn’t want to be here. He wants to go home.

No. That’s not it. He wants to find Will. He wants to get him out of here and make sure he’s okay. To make sure he’s not overwhelmed by the shittiness of their school and the people around them.

But even he is aware enough to know that if he barges into Will’s classroom and drags him out, the rumors will only get worse. He can’t do anything. He can’t do anything at all.

The rest of the week isn’t much better. Every day, there’s a new stupid comment, a new facet of this shitshow to make it worse. People think Will came out because of Mike, they think Mike outed him. They think Mike tricked him, or lied to him, or did something to manipulate him, because why else would Mike willingly hang out with him? Surely it can’t be because Will is his friend and he actually enjoys his company.

Friday, Mike slams his lunch tray down on the table, scowling at it. He’s been stuck in conversation about Will with some asshole for nearly twenty minutes of his lunch period, and it had taken him loudly saying that he wasn’t interested in him like that for the guy to finally fuck off and leave him alone,

Max and Lucas are laughing together, seemingly at something Dustin said. El is watching with a smile, and Will is just… there.

“I’m not having dinner with all of you,” Lucas says as Mike jabs at his salad with a plastic fork. “Just because we agreed to hang out with you at prom doesn’t mean I’m not giving my lovely girlfriend a wonderful experience.”

“You don’t think a group dinner would be wonderful?” El says innocently.

Max cackles. “Lucas,” she warns. “Do you secretly hate our friends?”

“That’s not it. How can we be romantic with Dustin farting every ten seconds.”

“Says you. Oh my god, talk about projection.”

“Mike, tell Dustin he farts more than the rest of us.”

“This is a stupid conversation,” Mike deadpans.

“Back me up, Will.”

Will smiles, hesitant. “I don’t know, Lucas. I mean…” he trails off, grinning.

“Traitor! Now I’m definitely not having dinner with you guys.”

“Hey everyone minus Max and Lucas, what wonderful establishment shall we grace with our presence before prom?” Dustin says loudly.

He looks to Mike. “Maybe it’s best if we don’t go,” Mike says, shrugging.

“What?” half the table cries.

“We already have our tickets,” El reminds him.

“It’ll just feed into the rumors,’ Mike points out. The last thing he needs is for more people to think Will is pathetic for going with him in a group. They already think he’s pathetic because Mike “rejected him”.

Will turns to him, and he looks irritated. Which is dumb. Mike is trying to look out for him. “If you let those mouthbreathers control your life then you won’t have any life left living.”

Mike scowls. “It was just a suggestion.”

“Yeah, well, it was a stupid one,” Will mutters.

Annoyance surges through Mike. “I’m trying to look out for you,” he snaps. Doesn’t Will get that? He’s doing his best to keep this shitshow from getting even more out of hand.

“Really?” Will says, looking at him sharply. “Are you looking out for me? Or are you just looking for an excuse to get away from the filthy queer who’s pathetically in love with you?”
Mike’s jaw drops, staring in shock as the bell rings and Will storms off in a rush, leaving his food behind. Will isn’t one to snap like that, which means this must be hitting him harder than Mike thought.

He should’ve realized, but it’s hard when Will’s been avoiding him all week.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Lucas says.

Mike throws his hands out. “What did I do?”

“You’re being a dick,” Max says. “Come on. This has been harder on Will than the rest of us. You have to know that.”

“Obviously,” Mike snaps. “That’s why I’m trying to keep it from getting worse.”

“Are you? Because from where I’m sitting, it seems like you’re trying to stay away from him.”

Mike glares at her. She doesn’t know a thing she’s talking about. “He’s the one avoiding me.”

Dustin snorts. “That’s dumb, Mike. Will is terrible at avoidance. If you really wanted to, you’d talk to him.”

Mike turns his glare to a new subject. “Shut up,” he says.

“I’m just saying,” Dustin says. “Maybe try talking to Will instead of assuming you know what he wants.”

Mike hesitates, as the rest of his friends get up to head to class.

“He cares about you,” El says, more gentle than the rest of them. “Just… don’t take advantage of that.”

I wouldn’t, Mike wants to say, but the words are stuck between his teeth.

Dustin is right. Not that Mike would ever admit it. It’s extraordinarily easy to slip out of class a few minutes early and linger around the corner from Will’s classroom, staring at the clock as he waits for the bell to ring.

Exactly two minutes before it does, the door opens with a click and Will sneaks out, looking exhausted. His bag is half slung over his shoulder, his hair a mess the way it always is when he’s stressed and can’t help running his hands through it over and over again. 

“Hey,” Mike says, and Will jumps, paling when he sees who it is.

“Oh,” Will says, eyes darting around as he looks for an exit. “Uh… I gotta—”

Mike huffs, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him off to the bathroom. Will stumbles, but doesn’t force his way out of his grip, even though he totally could. No one is around, thankfully, or else this would definitely spur the rumors. As it is, Will still doesn’t seem very happy as Mike shoves him into the bathroom and stands in front of the door so no one else can enter, staring at Will, who’s staring intently at the sink like it owes him money.

“Will,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. Listen, I - I was trying to give you space. I thought that was what you wanted. I don’t care that you’re gay. I promise. You’re still my best friend. I was just… I was trying to protect you, I guess. Which is dumb. You don’t need my protection.”

Will frowns. “If you don’t want to go to prom, that’s your choice,” he says shortly. Okay. That didn’t work then. He’s still upset. The thing is that Mike doesn’t know what he’s upset about. Is he upset about prom or is he using that as a cover for what he’s really mad about?

Mike groans. “Will, I don’t care about that, honestly. I’m just trying to do whatever makes it easiest for you.”

Will rolls his eyes. Not helpful.

“Come on, man. It’ll be fun,” he tries. “We can get super wasted and eat a ton of junk food. I want to go, really.”

Will looks at him, suspicious. “Are you serious or are you just saying that?”

“I’m serious! I want to go. I just want you to feel comfortable. I was worried you might… I don’t know, that you’d let it get to your head. I’m glad I was wrong. Besides, those assholes don’t know anything they’re talking about. They think you’re in love with me.”

Will grits his teeth, his hands clenched into fists. “I don’t know how your grades are this high when you’re so fucking stupid,” he says out of nowhere.

Mike raises his eyebrows. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he argues, trying not to snap. But how is he supposed to not take offense to it when Will literally calls him an idiot.

Will shakes his head as Mike stares, pieces slowly slotting together in his head.

They think you’re in love with me.

You’re so fucking stupid.

“Wait,” he says, out of breath.

“I can’t do this, Mike, I really can’t,” Will says, shaky. It’s distant over the ringing in Mike’s ears. This isn’t happening. It can’t be. There’s no way his entire fucking school figured this shit out before he did. If so, then… then Mike really must be fucking stupid. “You - you just keep pretending like everything is fine, like we can just… move on like this shit isn’t happening, but it’s not. It’s not fine. I can’t deal with this shit. It’s driving me crazy. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and then you just - and you—”

Mike stares at him, barely processing a word he says.

“You’re in love with me?” He can’t keep letting Will talk before he knows. Before he knows if he’s reading into everything wrong. If he’s imagining a story where there isn’t one. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Will laughs in his face, if he tells him he’s crazy and doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He doesn’t have to, because Will doesn’t say it.

Will’s breathing stutters, tears welling in his eyes. He doesn’t deny it. He doesn’t confirm it, but the way his face scrunches up like he’s in pain almost seems to. The way his hands shake. The way the tears drip down his cheeks.

“You’re a coward,” he says, and Mike’s feet slide to the left as Will’s powers move him out of his way, and Will storms out of the bathroom.

Mike is still not quite present, his brain a pathetic loop of Will is love with me. Is he? Is Mike reading everything horribly wrong the way he always does? Or is this actually… could Will really…

By the time he manages to move his feet, Will is long gone.

“Now what the hell are you doing home?” Nancy asks.

Mike looks up, the first time he’s moved in about four hours. He responded to Lucas this morning, telling him he wasn’t going to prom and not to wait for him, and then he had turned his radio off and laid back down, where he had spent the rest of the day.

“When did you get home?” he says, instead of answering her. She’s got her arms crossed, standing in the doorway of his room the way she always does when she’s yelling at him to turn down his music, but as far as he knew she wasn’t coming home for a few days, so he isn’t expecting to see her.

He’ll never admit it to her face, but she’s a sight for sore eyes.

Her face softens when he answers, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. “A few hours ago,” she tells him. “I would’ve come to say hi, but Mom said you were off with your friends getting ready for prom.”

He drops his head back down, scowling. “Didn’t feel like it.”

Nancy sighs, and he can feel her rolling her eyes. “Jonathan told me what’s been going on,” she says. Which means Will must have told Jonathan. Which means Nancy’s probably only heard the version where Mike is a massive douche and she’s hear to tell him off.

“Whatever,” he says, grabbing the edge of his blanket and pulling it up over his head to cover himself.

“Mike…” she sighs. “This isn’t your fault.”

“Uh huh,” he says, trying to tune her out.

“But you’re still an idiot.”

“Yep. Not the first person to say so.”

“You know I love you,” she says, pulling his blanket back down so he has to look at her. “But you have a tendency to get lost in your own head.” She flicks him on the forehead. “And you don’t even realize what you’re doing to other people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He knows what it means, and Nancy knows he knows it. Everyone thinks Will is hopelessly in love with Mike, and Mike hasn’t done anything to let Will know that he’s okay with it.

Because he is. He is! Really. It’s fine. It doesn’t change anything. It’s not even true. It can’t be.

“He’s afraid, Mike. That you’re going to hate him. That you’ll think it’s weird—”

“Will’s not weird.” He glares at her, pulling the blanket back up. “And he’s not in love with me,” he finishes, muffled under his coverage.

“You are not this stupid,” Nancy says. “Mike… yes he is.”

He pulls the blanket back down, sitting upright so he can better yell at her. “He isn’t,” he says firmly.

“Yes, he is.”

“No. He can’t be.”

Nancy tilts her head to the side. Usually, Mike is better at pissing her off. Enough that she storms off and leaves him alone. She doesn’t seem the least bit irritated yet.

“Why not?”

Mike hesitates. He doesn’t know. He just… It just… “He can’t,” he says dumbly.

Nancy leans forward. “Come on, Mike. You know exactly why you think that.”

He grits his teeth together. “He can’t,” he tries. “Because I - because I want him to be in love with me,” he says, heart pounding. “And I don’t get what I want.”

Out there, in the world, it sounds stupider than ever.

Nancy doesn’t seem to agree. “Mike,” she says, like she’s proud. “I’m really happy for you.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he snaps. “Because Will’s not in love with me, but I’m in love with him. And all that means is that I’m going to be miserable for the rest of my stupid life without him.”

“I’m going to tell you something, and you’re going to listen,” Nancy says. Mike shrugs. “I knew Will was gay two and a half years before he came out.”

“Bullshit,” Mike snaps. Because he didn’t even know, and there’s no way Nancy figured it out before he did.

“I did,” she assures him. “You wanna know why?”

He doesn’t give her an answer. It’s petty, but whatever. 

“Because of the way he looks at you, Mike. The way he’s always looked at you. There is no world in which Will doesn’t have a thing for you, I promise you.”

Mike shakes his head. “No, because I—”

“I’m serious, Mike. He does. Trust me. But that doesn’t mean he’ll wait forever.” Mike stares at his sheets. There’s no way. There’s no way she’s right.

He thinks about Will. He didn’t deny it. You’re so fucking stupid. He was upset.

“He won’t wait forever,” Nancy says. “But he’s waiting now.”

Mike’s heart pounds. “Get out.”

Nancy blinks. “What? No. Mike, you have to listen—”

“No, just—” He huffs in frustration. “I believe you. Now get out so I can change.”

Nancy grins, standing.

“Be quick,” she says.

“Shut up. Get out.”

He slams the door in her face as she walks out, then reopens it. “Can you drive me to the school?”

She shoots him an annoyed look. “Fine.”

He grins, hurrying back in to throw on his suit at the speed of light.

He barely has time to comb his hair, hoping he doesn’t look like a massive idiot, brushing his teeth, grabbing his ticket, throwing on a bit of cologne, and rushing past his mother, who apparently thought he wasn’t home all day, given her confused face, and into the car where Nancy is waiting.

The drive is silent, Mike drumming his fingers on his knee, then fixing his hair in the mirror, then making sure there’s nothing in his teeth, then adjusting his tie.

“Are you sure that Will—?”

“Yes, Mike,” Nancy laughs.

The car stops, and Mike practically jumps out of it.

“Mike?” she says, as he shuts the door.

He pauses. “Yeah?”

“Good luck,” she says with a grin.

He gives her a weak smile back, and she drives away, taking his confidence with her.

Oh god, he might just throw up.

His knees are shaky as he hands off his ticket to a bored parent, darting into the cramped gym.

Oh god. What’s his game plan? He doesn’t even have a plan? Should he have brought flowers? Does Will like flowers?

Of course he likes flowers, but would he want them? Would that be embarrassing? 

It feels like a scene from a shitty movie, looking around the gym with it’s dumb balloons and tacky decorations, trying to catch a glimpse of the only person he cares to see.

And it’s then that it hits him.

“I think it’s sweet,” Will had said, when they were watching El’s dumb movie. He had thought it was romantic. He had thought it was cute. “Not that it would ever happen to me.”

Bullshit. That was bullshit.

Mike’s eyes landed on Will, across the room. The music is loud, a Bowie song he would normally stop and listen to. Right now, he can barely hear it over the beating of his heart. Will is talking to Dustin. He looks miserable. He looks…

He’s so pretty Mike thinks he might fall over from the force of it. For a moment, he’s content to watch Will, watch as he snorts at something Dustin says, taking a sip of punch. His hair isn’t in his eyes anymore. He must have cut it. Still, Mike longs to brush it out of the way.

Will glances up, and his eyes meet Mike’s. Mike freezes, hoping his blush isn’t clear in the dark room.

Will’s eyebrows furrow, mouthing his name with punch-stained lips, and Mike is weak.

He can’t forget he has a mission. He shoves his way through groups of people, ignoring irritated voices and annoyed scowls as he pushes past the crowd. They don’t matter. None of it does. The only thing he can see is Will.

“Mike, you’re here,” Will says, when Mike is close enough. “I - Lucas said - I thought you weren’t—”

“I wasn’t,” Mike admits. “I was… scared.”

Will’s face falls. “Oh.”

“But I’m not anymore,” he tries.

Will doesn’t look convinced. “Really?”

“No,” Mike admits. “I’m fucking terrified.”

“Right,” Will says, holding his punch. Dustin frowns, glancing between the two of them like he’s not sure if he should say something. Mike shoots him a look to keep his fucking mouth shut.

“You don’t have to stay,” Will continues. 

“That’s not why I’m scared,” Mike says.

Will doesn’t seem to understand.

“I just - I—” he pauses, huffing in frustration. He’s supposed to be writer. So why can’t he just say it. 

Like water, El slips between the two of them for a moment, grabbing Will’s punch in one hand and Dustin in the other and pulling them both away, leaving Will and Mike facing each other in a crowded gym while David Bowie sings about shame on the other side.

“Why are you here?” Will asks, almost angry.

Mike’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He grimaces. 

“I can’t - I’m trying to say I—” 

Will looks resigned. Like he’s expected this. Like this is just… how it was always going to go.

“Right,” he says. “You can’t.”

Mike’s mouth sets in a hard line. “You’re braver than me,” he tells Will. “You always have been. But Will, I—” he licks his lips. His mouth feels so incredibly dry all of the sudden. “I want to be brave too,” he confesses.

Will’s hard expression falls into something more vulnerable. “Okay,” he says. “Then… be brave.”

Mike marches forward, determined, and cups Will’s face in his hands. Without hesitation, he tilts Will’s head up, leans down, and presses their lips together.

Will is frozen against him for a long, long moment. Long enough that Mike begins to think he’s ruined everything, when all of the sudden Will melts, collapsing against his chest, kissing him back.

It’s hot, Mike is sure his palms are sweaty against Will’s face, there are dozens of people around them. It’s the best thing he’s ever experienced.

“Mike,” Will breathes against his teeth, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

Someone cheers, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and Will smiles against Mike’s lips. There are boos, too. Unsurprisingly, but Mike can barely hear them. Will is kissing him. Will is letting him kiss him. It’s impossible. It’s incredible.

They’re pulled apart abruptly by a teacher, one Mike vaguely recognizes from sophomore English.

“This is incredibly inappropriate,” he says harshly. “This is still a school function.”

“Boo!” a guy yells, and Mike turns to see Ian, of all people, throwing a middle finger up at the teacher. “Like half the people here are sucking face. Leave them alone!”

He turns to Mike, giving him a thumbs up, and Mike is so stunned he can’t help but laugh. Who would’ve thought? 

Will looks at Mike, seeming a bit terrified, but there’s so much warmth in his eyes that Mike can’t help but steal another quick kiss, just because he can, even while they’re in the middle of being lectured.

“Holy shit!” Lucas says when the teacher has finally given up on them, thankfully without kicking them out of prom. “That was incredible!” He pulls them both into a hug, and Mike is pressed against Will, instinctively reaching for his hand. Will twines their fingers together, and even when Lucas pulls back, he doesn’t let go.

“Damn,” Dustin says, taking a sip of what Mike is pretty sure is Will’s punch. His arm is still linked with El’s. “I guess I was wrong.”

“About what?” Will asks, sharing a confused look with Mike.

“That is pretty romantic.”

They do get asked to leave after that, if only because they’re laughing too loud.

Mike wakes up to the most horrible beeping he’s ever heard.

“Ugh, turn it off,” he groans. Will’s alarm is genuinely his worst enemy. How he manages to not turn that thing into a million tiny pieces every morning is news to him.

Will complies, slamming the button and promptly laying back beside him, a fond smile fixed on his face.

“Hi,” he says. Mike is still half asleep, but he can’t resist smiling at the sight of Will’s smile.

“Hi,” he returns. “Is that gonna turn on again and destroy my eardrums?”

“I’m pretty sure I turned it off.”

They had left prom with the rest of the Party, Mike driving Lucas’s car back to the Byers (besides Will, he was only one not drunk off his ass, and Will doesn’t have his license yet). They had hung out in the living room, watching movies and playing games, until the others were back on their feet. After the others left (Lucas claimed he was taking Max and Dustin home, but Mike had a feeling only one of those things is actually true), El had passed out on the couch and Will had dragged Mike back to his room. They had laid there together for hours, whispering secrets they’d bottled up for years.

It was the most freeing thing Mike had ever done, even though it was also definitely the most terrifying. They must have fallen asleep at some point, though Mike doesn’t remember doing so.

Will seems to realize something, eyes lighting up before he leans forward and kisses Mike.

“Oh,” Mike says, pleasantly surprised.

“Not a dream then,” Will murmurs.

“I don’t know,” Mike argues. “I think it still might be. We might want to check again.”

Will snickers, giving him the shortest peck known to man before pulling back.

“Will,” Mike whines.

“No,” Will says. “Your morning breath is awful.”

Mike’s jaw drops, blushing. “Mean!”

“It’s true, though,” Will retorts. “It’s fine, you have a toothbrush in the bathroom.”

That’s true. Mike and Will have both had a toothbrush at the other’s house since they were six and their parents realized it was easier than remembering to bring one every night.

“I can’t go to the bathroom,” Mike tells him.

“Why not?”

Mike gives him a pointed look. “What if Hopper sees me?”

Will snorts. “So what? You spend the night all the time.”

“Yeah but that’s different. He’s gonna think we did something.”

Will bites his lip, though it does nothing to hide his shit-eating grin. “Maybe. But if you sneak out my window and he catches you, he’ll definitely think we did something.”

“Oh my god,” Mike says, covering his face with his hands. “Will, you’ve gotta get me out of here. He will murder me.”

“No he won’t. Hopper likes you.”

“Are you insane? He’s still mad at me for dating El like five years ago! If he sees me I will not survive.”

“He doesn’t care about that, Mike. Come on. You’re being dramatic.”

He pushes Mike towards the edge of the bed, trying to get him up, and Mike goes limp against him, refusing to move.

“I’m not,” he says dramatically. “He’ll lock me up forever and then I’ll never see you again.”

“Not happening,” Will says, kissing his forehead. “Now go brush your teeth so I can make out with you.”

Mike scrambles out of the bed.

When he opens the door, he nearly walks into El, who is standing in front of it like she was about to come in.

As soon as she sees him, a grin spreads across her face. “Oh, I see,” she says, way too loudly. Mike shushes her hurriedly, glancing around to see if Hopper is around. “Will, you animal.”

“Jane, shut up,” Will warns her from the bed. “Don’t you dare.”

“I hope you used protection.”

“Oh my god, nothing happened,” he shrieks. Mike ignores them, hurrying onto his mission to brush his teeth as fast as humanly possible. He spits into the sink, tossing his toothbrush aside carelessly, and darts back out of the bathroom, freezing when he almost runs directly into Hopper.

“When the hell did you get here?” he asks, sounding more confused than irritated.

“Oh would you look at the time!” Mike says loudly, slipping past him and back into Will’s room. El has left at some point in the past two minutes, so Mike kicks the door shut behind him and drags Will back onto the bed.

“Mike,” he says through laughter, falling back easily. He looks like he could be made of sunlight, smiling up at him like that. Mike balances on his hands, hovering over him. “What about my morning breath?”

“I’m not picky,” Mike assures him, kissing him once. “Unlike some people.”

Will winds his arms around Mike’s neck, his fingers twisting through Mike’s hair, and Mike realizes he actually doesn’t care at all if Will is picky so long as he keeps doing that.

The door slams open and Mike falls, landing on top of Will who lets out an Oof of shock as he’s crushed.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Hopper says dryly.

“Get out!” Mike yells. “We’re… changing.”
“I’m looking at you, dipshit. That doesn’t work. You cannot date my son and my daughter. It’s not fair at all.”

Will is still smiling, not seeming at all concerned that his step-dad just caught him in bed with another boy. Then again, Hopper doesn’t really seem angry. Mike glances over at him, and he swears he sees him smiling for a second before Hopper wipes the look off his face.

“Hopper, get out,” Will says. “We’re changing.”

Hopper groans loudly as Mike and Will laugh, and Will doesn’t wait for Hopper to leave before he’s kissing him again.

“Three inches!” the man calls, as he leaves without stopping them. Huh. Maybe he doesn’t hate him as much as Mike has always assumed. Will pulls back with a smirk, waits a moment, and the door slams shut all on its own.

“Troublemaker,” Mike murmurs. But he doesn’t mind. He never has, when it comes to Will.

Will’s alarm blares once more, and Mike scrambles off of him in a panic.

“Oh shit!” he laughs. “I guess I didn’t turn it off.”

Mike can’t find it in himself to care.