Chapter Text
Will Byers, if nothing else, was a very consistent man.
He had hung out with the same three friends his whole life, he took the same route home every day, he bought the same brand of pencils every time he needed new ones.
And of course, he had been in love with the same guy for at least 10 years.
It was pointless and stupid. He knew that. And he was fine with that. He had to be. It was a lesson he learned when they were kids, when he had overheard his parents fighting, Lonnie yelling about how a seven-year-old Will had somehow ruined their lives,
“It’s because you’re teaching him it’s ok! You’re teaching our son he can be a faggot! Look where it’s landed us, Joyce! The whole town knows our son’s a fairy!”. He still remembered that conversation, word for word.
He’d been reminded of it almost every day since, when he would get bullied at school, when he and Mike would fight, when Vecna taunted him with it endlessly. When Will had to find solace in other guys.
That’s what Carlton was. Solace. Peace. Stability.
Carlton was a very… organised person. Every date had to be planned at least a week in advance. He didn’t try new things. He was a business major. Student council. He was born and raised in New York, and he didn’t show a hint of wanting to leave.
Will liked that. If there was one thing he craved after his whirlwind of a childhood, it was consistency.
He was normal when he was with Carlton. He wasn’t Zombie Boy and he could walk down a school hallway without getting a slur yelled at him. Carlton didn’t know every piece of trauma deeply rooted in Will’s brain. Talking to him was easy. At least, when it was about school work or dinner or going to the bar.
Explaining to him that he was off for a monthly trip to Philadelphia with his hometown friends (including – but not limited to – the town’s resident Hot Guy, his friend’s older sister, his adoptive sister that Will never seemed to mention all that much, and his childhood best friend that Carlton was very obviously at least a little bit suspicious of) just to catch up was… hard, to say the least.
“You need to stay in touch that badly? And why Philadelphia?” He had asked as Will explained it to him over drinks at the bar a block away from his apartment.
“Hawkins, it’s… it wasn’t exactly fun for any of us. I mean, it’s a small town in the middle of nowhere, Indiana. It wasn’t fun for anyone unless you voted for Reagan in ‘84.” For once in his life, Will got to be glad to say he grew up in a deeply republican town.
“I feel like I’ve never heard of most of these friends. Like, who’s Steve?”
“He’s Jonathan’s age. He’s really nice though. He used to sneak us into the movie theatre for free.”
Carlton nodded slowly as if Will was explaining the theory of quantum physics.
“Seems like a long drive for a sleepover.” He said, and Will desperately fought against the sudden urge to sigh dramatically.
…
Will couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d acted too suspiciously through that conversation. That Carlton knew there was something else.
The quieter, rational part of his brain told him that it was practically impossible for Carlton to somehow work out that the reason they all hated Hawkins was because there was an alternate dimension run by an evil wizard that Will once got trapped in for a week and that his sister was raised in a government lab dedicated to researching said dimension because that’s obviously absurd, but Will was never really a best-case-scenario kind of guy.
His tendency to assume the worst of every situation was quite high up on the long, long list of things he hated about himself.
This tendency was actively manifesting in his drawing, as he messily sketched the outlines of a face he hadn’t even realised he was drawing until he was too deep in to stop.
“Wheeler!” Lucas’ voice came booming through their apartment.
Will stopped his pencil abruptly, turning up his music in a desperate attempt to drown out the conversation going on through the wall.
It had been like this for a month now, since they had to change their answering machine from introducing them as the Mayfield-Sinclair-Wheeler-Byers household to the Mayfield-Sinclair-Byers household after Mike suddenly decided – with no prior warning whatsoever – that he would turn Will into a constant third wheel and skip town, transferring from NYU to Harvard with the sole reasoning of “My dad said to”.
Like Michael Wheeler ever listened to his dad.
If Will turned his music down enough, he could hear Mike’s rambling all the way through the phone and a wall. He always did talk too loudly.
Will wished — foolishly, in his own opinion — that he knew what Mike was complaining about.
His imagination swirled with made-up stories of his professor thinking he plagiarised a story for his creative writing class because he was that talented, or his roommate being annoyed with him because he always stayed up all night.
Whatever. It’s none of his business, apparently.
He turned up his music more and more until he couldn’t hear a word that Lucas or Mike said.
“Jesus, Will, turn it down.” Max said dramatically, entering his room as if it were her own.
“Sorry. Lucas is just being loud.”
Max slowly nodded in realization and stretched her face into a weak, sympathetic smile. She crossed the floor and sat down on the edge of his bed.
“You packed for tomorrow?” She asked, and Will pointed down to a neatly packed yellow suitcase, left slightly open so he could put his sketchbook in later.
“I’ve been packed for three days.”
“Really? I was gonna make Lucas do it for me tomorrow.”
“We’re leaving at 9:00am.”
“Which I still maintain is stupid because it’s only a two hour drive and Steve and El are gonna get there way later than us.”
Will chuckled. “You know Nancy and Dustin. They’ll get there 3 hours before all of us and get first choice for bedrooms.”
“What, you didn’t like sleeping on the couch last time?” Max mocked with a grin.
“It was fine. I’d just… rather an actual bed.” He stuttered.
“You’re allowed to be upset about things, Will.” She said slowly, trying her absolute hardest to get that message through to him, as if they didn’t both know this was the thousandth time she’d told him that. “What did you tell Carlton?”
“The truth.” Will said simply, before quickly realising what he’d implied. “That I was going to see friends from Hawkins, that I do every month.”
“And he didn’t ask anything else?”
“I mean, he asked what friends, and I just said you guys, my brother and people he hadn’t met. He said it was a long way just to catch up, and it was random to go to Philadelphia instead of Hawkins, so I told him it was because Hawkins was hell for everyone. Figuratively.” Will explained.
“You know, I thought it’d be a lot harder to not mention all the Upside Down stuff. Like, they basically funded our entire futures with all that hush money for no reason.” Max said, realising that she’d never once actually considered bringing it up in conversation. “Maybe it’s because we all had enough other trauma to explain away any weird shit about us.”
“I feel like it just makes me look really sensitive.” Will confessed.
“So what if you are, Will? You had to spend your most formative years with Lonnie Byers. I’ve never even met the guy and I already hate his ass. He raised you. I’d use that as an excuse for everything if I were you.”
“Carlton’s dad was the worst too. He doesn’t act like me.”
Max squinted at him for a few uncomfortable seconds, and his eyes darted around the room as if he could subconsciously take her eyes off of him and stop whatever psychological assessment she was conducting.
“Right. What’re you drawing?” Max asked suddenly, leaning forward as if to grab his sketchbook.
Will moved it away and gently pushed her hand away. “It’s nothing.” He said quickly.
“Come on. I’ve seen you less focused on your actual assignments than whatever that was.” She insisted, reaching forward again.
“It’s just a sketch. It’s nothing.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits before she shook her head and seemingly changed her mind. “So, what movie are we watching?” She asked suddenly.
“I picked up the VHS for Apartment Zero in case Uncle Buckley’s movies suck.” Will suggested.
“Of course.” She said with a smile, burying herself in his sheets.
…
“Come on, Lucas! Nobody cares about your hair!” Max screamed down the hallway while her and Will stood at the door, suitcases beside them.
“Personally, I’d be a lot nicer to the one who’s about to drive you for 2 hours.” He yelled back, diminishing his voice as met them in the doorway, walking purposely slowly to annoy Max. “We ready to go?”
“Only if you promise to stop for snacks.” Max responded with a sly grin.
Lucas glared at her. “Fine.” He groaned, as if they didn’t all know he wasn’t annoyed in the slightest.
These trips to Philadelphia were a monthly ritual that the party had joined in on once they had started college. They were the eye of the constant storm that was all of their lives, between college, jobs, and the never-ending onslaught of government calls and meetings that still followed them to this day. Four years ago, they told them they’d give each of them however much hush money they saw fit and they’d never have to hear from them ever again. Safe to say, they were very wrong.
Robin’s uncle’s house, as creepy and full of secrets it may be, was simple. It was a constant. There were rules to Philadelphia.
You get to skip a maximum of 3 trips a year, every 3rd trip is extended to a week, you wake up before 10:00am, and you never, ever bring an outsider with you.
An hour of driving found them surrounded by wrappers from candy bars as they sang along passionately to Where’s My Mind? as they blasted it at max volume from Lucas’ car’s radio.
Will believed, well and truly, that these roadtrips were perfect. It was long enough that it had that roadtrip feeling, but not too long that they were stuck in the car forever like Steve and El were driving up from Hawkins. They had the perfect mix, carefully curated to perfectly cater to everyone’s individual taste in music, the perfect snacks, a vast selection of all their favourite snacks after they had bought so much from 7/11 that they needed to use all three of them to carry them, and they were with their favourite people. What more could they ask for?
Well… Will could definitely tell you something he thought would improve the drive. He’d been able to feel Mike’s absence the entire drive. The seat that he usually occupied was sitting there, untouched by everything except a packet of M&M’s and the chill air of the car.
It doesn’t matter. Will desperately told himself. If he wanted to be here, he would be. And you shouldn’t care this much, anyways. After all, what would Carlton-”
“Right, Will?” Lucas’ voice was a lot scarier than it should’ve been when it suddenly echoed through the car and caused Will to embarrassingly jump.
“Hm?”
“Jason would beat Freddy in a fight, anyday.”
“That’s bullshit! Freddy goes into your dreams to kill you. That’s fucking terrifying. Take that from someone who’s literally been killed by a guy invading her mind.” Max retorted.
Lucas sighed and rolled his eyes. “If you pull the ‘I died’ card one more time…” He said with mock anger, earning a round of laughter from his passengers.
“Why are you so distracted, anyways, Will?”
Will froze, gulping as he internally scrambled for an excuse.
Max gave Lucas a look and tilted her head towards the empty seat.
“He’s not worth all this moping.” Max declared.
“I know. It’s making this harder.”
“We know it’s hard, Will. But that’s what’s good about being with Carlton. It’s… freeing.” Lucas declared, almost philosophically.
“Ok, jeez, nerd. A year of a medical degree does a lot to a guy.”
“I will turn this car around—” He began jokingly, and the rest of the drive devolved into another hour of singing, laughing, and eating way too much candy for their own good.
They were soon met with a deep grey, Victorian home standing tall above Max’s car (which suddenly felt a lot smaller underneath the intimidating presence of the manor).
Usually, despite the unsettling nature of the building, there was nothing in this world more calming to Will. It meant a week of light-hearted fun with the people who understood him more than anyone else. It was a week of peace away from all the stress of his schoolwork and adult life. It was a week away from New York, above everything.
He loved New York.
Really.
He loved the endless opportunities. The culture. The acceptance.
But it’s not Hawkins.
It’s not peaceful. He doesn’t know who or when or where or what’s ever going on. Everything feels out of his control. Like there could be a New York version of the Upside Down and there’s a little kid just like him who’s stuck down there and his best friend is freaking out and Will’s sitting there letting it happen.
“Will? You coming, man?” Lucas called back, just as the door swung open to reveal an excited Robin, donning her signature wide-grin reserved for long-awaited reunions and whatever stupid shenanigans Steve was pulling that day, and leading them all inside.
The entrance hall was just as grand as the house’s exterior, though it was much warmer in colour. It had mahogany walls that went up so high up that had the stairs not been so large and in-your-face as soon as anyone stepped into the house, it would’ve been impossible to convince anyone that there was enough room for not one, but two more storeys above them. The floor was covered by a large, patterned rug that was navy in the middle and surrounded by a burgundy colour with gold detailing along the edges.
Every wall had a painting that looked like it must have cost at least ten thousand dollars each, and there were many plants around the room. Will often wondered how they were still alive while Robin’s uncle – Uncle Buckley, as they had decided his name was – was away from his house this often.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you all!” She exclaimed dramatically, leaning in for a hug with each of them.
“The Boston party has beat us again, I see.” Max said, the spite in her voice not missed by anyone.
“Seems like you guys have to start being more efficient. The New York bustle hasn’t gotten to you yet?” Nancy teased, making her sudden appearance from behind Robin.
“It’s not Will and I’s fault that someone insisted we wouldn’t be able to survive a 2 hour drive without an entire gas station’s worth of snacks.” Lucas interjected.
“I seem to remember you eating a lot of those snacks, stalker.”
“I’m not wasting my money on snacks I’m not gonna eat.”
“Feeding your girlfriend is a waste of money, huh, millionaire?”
“You run a successful business in the biggest city in the country!”
As amusing as their banter was, Will couldn’t hear anything after that. The next few minutes passed in a blur of hugs from Robin, Nancy, Dustin and, of course, Jonathan (who had been visiting Nancy in Massachusetts in the week before this). And while each of them were near and dear to Will’s heart, none of them could distract him from the tall figure standing atop the stairs.
“Jeez, Michael, you move away and now you’re too good for us?” Max called suddenly, her voice filling the space and echoing through Will’s ears like a loud, intrusive reminder of his distance from Mike.
Mike laughed lazily, before his eyes widened visibly and he scurried down the steps, tripping on the third last step and desperately trying to act like that didn’t happen. Will could only assume this action was due to a pointed glare from Max.
“H-Hey! How are you guys doing?” Mike managed to utter, his voice strained as if the weight of the room’s air was physically affecting him. “I’ve missed you guys! I mean, obviously Harvard’s great and all, but… yeah.”
Will could practically hear Nancy’s eyes roll.
“Steve and El’s flight should land soon, but in the meantime, we’ve been trying to make sense of this weird board game we found in the basement, so you’re all welcome to join us. Or you could find out whatever Mike’s been doing.” She suggested, swinging her head towards Mike.
“I’m not- I’m just unpacking!” He defended weakly. It seemed to satisfy Nancy anyway, as she simply just sighed and smiled back at Max, Lucas, and Will.
“Me and Lucas are gonna go help Mike.” Max declared, smiling uncharacteristically.
“Cool. So, Will?” Nancy said, beckoning Will downstairs, still donning her incredibly obvious forced smile.
Will followed, getting the sense he didn’t really have a choice.
…
“So, Michael.” Max said menacingly the second her foot made contact with the floor of the room Mike had claimed the second they got there. “What have you actually been doing? Because we all know you don’t unpack for shit.”
“Wh- Yes I do!”
“Dude, you still hadn’t unpacked all your boxes by the time you moved out.”
Mike’s eyes shifted between Max's expectantly raised eyebrows and Lucas’ gentle look of question.
He sighed heavily, deciding there wasn’t any use to lying. Both of them could always see right through him.
“Since arriving, I’ve… paced back and forth, freaked out, tried to calm myself down by reading, got stressed out even more, paced again, read over my letters to Will, and… freaked out again.” He listed, checking everything off on his fingers as if he was reciting his grocery list.
Mike hated that he always talked about it like it was a joke. That he couldn’t let himself make it sound serious. Let it sound like he ever really cared.
Like Mike Wheeler actually, truly cared for Will Byers. Loved, even.
The mere thought of it made Mike’s head explode into static.
“I know this is obvious, but, you know all of this could have been avoided if you just… I don’t know, man, talked to him? Called him once or twice?” Lucas said through an exasperated sigh. Mike simply rolled his eyes in response.
“You know he’s right, Mike. Seriously, why couldn’t you have just called him?” Max paused as if to wait for Mike to reply, but he couldn’t get a word out before she cut him off. “And don’t give me that ‘I was busy!’ bullshit because we all know you don’t do any of your assignments before the hour they’re due.”
“...I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Lucas gawked at him.
“That’s bullshit and we both know it, Wheeler.”
The air in the room felt thicker than before. It was something heavier, the weight of his own truths pushing down on him like a ton of bricks.. The loudest noise he could hear was his own teeth grinding against each other.
“It’s different, calling him. It’s an effort, you know?” Max’s eyebrows shot upwards, her throat already burning with a sarcastic insult. “That’s not what I mean. It’s…. When I call Will, I have to reach out. I have to show that I… that I care.” Mike managed, barely able to get out half of his words.
“So what if you care, Mike? Feelings aside, he’s still supposed to be your best friend. He just wants to talk to you. I’m sure there’s a lot he wants to tell you about but he thinks you’re not gonna listen.” Mike could tell just from Lucas’ tone that he was actively trying not to grab him by the shoulders and shake him repeatedly.
“Besides, you’ve managed to call us. There’s no chance in hell the Mike I know would let anyone think he cared about me more than the great Will the Wise.” Max pointed out.
“... You’re right.”
“I always am.”
“But, that doesn’t change anything. Just because I admitted something to you guys doesn’t mean that I can suddenly marry Will tomorrow.”
Lucas and Max shared a look of pure frustration and a small silent conversation that Mike decided was their own secret couple language that he could never dream of understanding.
“Obviously not. But you admitted to us, so you can admit it to him.” Lucas explained, as patiently as he could, before giving up entirely and adding, “Please, Mike, for the love of god, just talk to him.”
Mike nodded thoughtfully, which Lucas and Max took as a win. “I think El and Steve’ll be here in like, twenty, but we’re gonna head down and see if they worked out that board game or whatever they were doing. Are you coming, or are you gonna continue this gay disaster?” Max asked on her way out the room.
“I’ll stay up here for a minute, thanks.” Mike replied, his middle finger raised in her direction even though her back was turned in the other direction.
“Does he… know?” Lucas asked softly as they descended the large, mahogany stairs.
Max simply shook her head, casting a look back at his door. “Someone should probably tell him.”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s our place to say.” Lucas declared, swinging open the doors to the basement.
…
In the half an hour they were all down there, they managed to work out nothing except that there were dice you were supposed to roll at some point, though there were at least 20 in the box and the board had no discernable path to follow.
Dustin was halfway through a long, complicated explanation of his “sudden breakthrough” on the use of the stack of cards with seemingly completely random symbols when they heard a loud, boisterous voice echoing from the entrance and down the stairs to them.
“We’re here! We can start the parade now!”
Dustin cut himself off, throwing the cards down with reckless abandon before bounding up the stairs, everyone immediately following along.
Will clung to the back of the group, letting everyone rush past him, polite as always. By the time he had made it up the stairs, El was already 2 thirds done with her round of hugs, though Will was sure Max’s would go on for at least 5 times everyone else’s.
He did feel slightly bad for Nancy as the second El laid her eyes on him, she let go of Nancy and practically threw herself towards him with an excited squeal.
“Will! You need to tell me about Carlton! Joyce will not tell me anything.” She said, a grin so wide Will couldn’t even tell you how she managed to stretch her mouth that much.
“Who names a kid Carlton anyways?” Robin asked loudly, earning a glare from Nancy.
“We’re really happy for you, Will. We can’t wait to hear about him.” She said, suddenly seeming a lot more distracted at the end of her sentence, trailing off and looking behind Will.
Mike stood awkwardly halfway down the stairs, stopped with eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights.
“Who’s Carlton?”
Dustin took a sharp intake of air, so loud he may as well have gasped loudly and screamed something from the rooftops for the whole of Pennsylvania to hear.
Will knew he’d have to tell Mike eventually. He just thought they’d been mature enough for it not to sound like a soap opera twist.
He had greatly overestimated his own ability to ignore his feelings.
“He’s… my boyfriend. Carlton’s my boyfriend.” His mouth struggled to form the words. It shouldn’t be this hard.
Mike opened his mouth to say something, quickly closing it again. Then again. And again. He kind of looked like a goldfish.
Will would’ve laughed if he wasn’t actively being suffocated by the tension in the room.
“Oh, shit, did Mike not know?”
Nancy slapped Steve on the arm so hard after this that the bruise lasted for 2 weeks after.