Chapter Text
Mike has never been able to handle alcohol.
And with Stacey’s unusually extravagant graduation party being the talk of the school, Mike knows he’s going to do something stupid.
Everybody knows that she throws amazing parties, and thankfully for Dustin, who somehow charmed her enough to get an invite (and also somehow convinced her to invite the rest of the party. How? The world will never know), he both can’t wait and is also scared shitless.
When they got there, the party split into their respective groups. El, Max and Lucas were in the corner, discussing a way for El to cause some sort of chaos by using her powers that Mike knows he doesn’t want to be involved with, and Dustin was attempting to muster up the courage to give Stacey her gift.
All that was left was him and Will. Mike silently thanked the universe for once again leaving him alongside Will.
The lights were bright in Mike’s drunken vision, his head felt like it was filled with helium and would pop any second the moment a drunk girl came up to flirt with him like in the past (it happened one time, in which Lucas and Dustin still refuse to give up. ‘We didn’t even know you could get girls!)
The point still stands.
Will on the other hand, swayed with the music. He had one hand resting on the kitchen counter, his first and only cup of spiked punch in the other with the pink liquid sloshing around; he barely even drank it.
It's hard for Mike not to stare, and with the lack of awareness the alcohol has brought him, he doesn’t shy away when Will turns his head from the gathering in the living room where Stacey is and over to Mike, the lights flashing in his eyes.
Mike knows how stupid he must look, with his cheeks and nose all red and his eyes glazed over, but all he can focus on is how Will looks with his rosy cheeks and nose. He looks so, so cute.
Damn it. Not now, not while he still can think.
Mike reaches for his plastic cup behind him and books it towards the snack table where the infamous spiked punch rests, its hot pink color hiding its true nature with three sliced lemons floating on top.
Mike pushes a group of people that's crowded around it and dips his cup in, chugging it with vigor. His fears are left in the dark.
The liquid drips down his chin as the pungent flavor shocks his taste buds, but the more he drinks, the more used to the flavor he gets, as well as his thoughts.
“Mike…” Will’s voice comes up from behind him, and Mike feels two hands grasp the back of his shoulders. Mike leans into the touch.
“Hmm?” Mike hums, turning around with the now empty cup to his lips, the pink liquid running down his chin and onto his dark shirt.
“No more drinks, come with me. I want to be alone with you.” Will tugs at Mike’s black shirt, scrunching the fabric in between his knuckles, and, as if realizing how dirty the words he used, he scrambles for an explanation. “I…um, it’s too much—there’s too many people.”
Despite Mike's drunkenness, he slams the cup down and rushes out the back door with Will leading the way, a certain proudness settling in with the thought that Will, who values his personal space more than anything, would want Mike to be with him.
Mike can’t handle alcohol, but the person who can’t stand it is Will; he’s fine with getting a bit tipsy to get rid of any unneeded stress for the day, but in a room full of practically blacked out teenagers, Mike understands why.
The moon shines brightly through the trees, crickets chirp in the bushes and the soft glow of the blue pool swirls in the corner of the backyard. They both make their way over around the corner of the house and into the shadow being cast from the porch light on the corner.
It’s most definitely quieter than inside, even though the music can still be heard. The smell of the alcohol is less strong too, but the scent still lingers in the air. An open window above them allows golden light to be poured onto them like a spotlight, Mike hopes that no drunk teenager would lean out the window when the usual drunkenness catches up to them and ends up spilling the contents of their stomach on top of them; but for now, the light is nice.
However, A small queasy feeling churns in Mike’s own stomach, and something deep down in him isn’t putting all the blame on the heap of punch he consumed; it was because he’s alone with Will.
Mike has had a fair share of time to get his feelings underway, and he’s well aware of them by now. He’s always silently kicking himself at how stupid he used to be, and he still does with the way he acts around Will, even now. The alcohol isn’t helping, and the absentmindedness he feels can’t be great for the stakes of their friendship either, and yet Mike thinks that it might be the reason for it to be at risk in the first place.
Mike slowly turns his head to face Will, only to see him already staring back.
And only then does Mike realize how close they are.
The light above casts a glow on top of Will’s head, illuminating his soft, messy hair into a golden crown. His cheeks, nose and ears are all red, both from the cold and the slight tipsyness he must feel. His lips are pink and picked raw from him biting the dead skin off. His eyes are slightly glazed, not only from the alcohol but also, somewhere deep, deep down; Mike can tell he’s thinking about something, and wishes he could read his mind.
Mike swallows at the proximity.
Oh my god.
They are so close, in fact, that if Mike were to lean forward, they would brush noses. A small puff of air escapes both of their lungs, with a cloud shortly appearing between them and fizzling out not a moment later.
Will leans into Mike, resting his face onto Mike’s shoulder and nuzzling deeper.
Suddenly, as if being pulled out of a trance, Will leans away, his eyes wide and the glaze that coated his eyes disappearing the more he blinks.
No!
Mike knows he looks stupid.
The air grew colder where Will once was, and Mike finds himself chasing the warmth he left behind, leaning forward slightly, too focused on Will to not notice the implications of it; the implications of him wanting to be closer.
Mike doesn’t want him to go.
Mike places his arm down in between them and onto the hard concrete they are sitting on. “Will, I’m cold…” he whines, in an attempt to get Will closer.
“Mike, it's June.” Will states matter-of-factly, but Mike can still see his body tilting more towards him than before. “People are in the pool right over there because of the heat.” And he points over behind the corner, where, indeed, Mike can see a group of teens sitting on the edge of the pool kicking their feet in the water. He can also see Max and El behind them, probably scheming on whether or not they should push them in.
“So?” He reaches up to Will, nipping the sleeve of his shirt with his thumb and pointer finger like a dog wanting his owner to pet him.
Will chuckles, the alarm on his face melting away into amusement. “Fine.” He murmurs, immediately giving into Mike’s pleas and scoots closer until their shoulders are touching. It didn’t take him long to switch, must be the punches fault.
But it's not enough. Mike wants to be closer.
It’s as if his body is moving on autopilot and his brain is in a different dimension. His breathing turns heavy and rapid and he can feel his face heating up. He swipes his dark bangs away from his face.
And, with his heart practically jumping out of his chest, he lunges forward until his arms are straddling Will, practically crushing him into the gray side panels of the house. Mike leans forward, and only until their faces are mere inches away does he stop.
“W-hat?..Mike? What are you doing?” Will’s eyes flicker from eye to eye, but he doesn’t move, or push Mike away. His breath is warm on Mike’s face and smells of liquor and mint toothpaste. Mike wants to bathe in it.
"We’re alone, like you asked.” Mike chirps absentmindedly, his voice hushed and somewhat low.
Will exhales, a small smile tugging at his lips, and Mike’s eyes dart down, staring for maybe a little longer than he should before looking up to see an increasingly flustered Will looking back. His cheeks are bright red.
“Mike—”
“Hm?”
Mike wants to be closer, he needs to be. But even in his drunkenness can’t find himself to do that.
“Do you need anything?”
Mike’s mouth moves before he can think through it. “I need you.”
Will’s breath hitches.
“Um—”
Mike jumps in before Will can say anything more. “Can I kiss you?”
Will’s eyes practically pop out of his skull, but Mike doesn’t think much of it, staring back with his gaze casually dropping down once again.
“What?!”
“Please.”
Will swallows, his adams apple bobbing up and down in a quick motion.
A beat. Nothing happens. The party inside still rages on and the golden light from before has turned into a bright cyan green. A girl's sickly sweet perfume wafts through the window, freshly sprayed and strong. Mike only grows more impatient as Will stays quiet.
Will tilts his head down, looking at the floor. “You only want to because you’re drunk.”
“No!” Mike frantically shakes his head, to the point where he becomes dizzy. “That’s…that’s not true! I want to, I’ve been wanting to.”
Mike doesn’t even know if he should be saying this, and yet he can’t stop, all the words he’s been holding back seem to tumble out of him like a landslide. He just hates that he wasn’t able to do it without the alcohol, and he silently chastises himself for it. But it doesn’t last long; his mind floats back to Will, as it usually does.
When Will finally looks back up, he smiles, and gives Mike a hesitant nod. Mike's impatientness gets to him, and he closes the gap almost immediately.
It’s nothing more than a peck, a soft, desperate peck, but he breaks it against his will.
“It’s not because I’m drunk.” Mike repeats. “I want to. I really, really do.”
He’s been holding back those words the whole night, even before he got drunk, maybe even for years. The colorful lights flashing over his face brought Mike into some sort of trance, only for him to be sucked deeper as the alcohol settled in his stomach and his mind fogged up.
Suddenly, something in Will switches, whether it’s the alcohol’s fault or not, his posture straightens and a certain confidence seems to take over him. He doesn’t seem to be hesitant anymore when he grabs Mike by the biceps and tugs.
Mike crashes into him, grabbing onto his waist to secure himself before lunging forward into another kiss.
It's hungrier, more open than before. It’s sloppy as Mike’s drunkenness makes it awkward to really pay attention, but soon enough Will matches him, and their bodies flow together in sync.
He’s kissing Will.
No.
Even more than that.
He might never get this opportunity again.
Mike pushes forward until Will is squished up against the wall yet again, and he swings one of his legs over him until he’s straddling him. He can feel Will’s hands grip the fabric of his shirt and he silently curses the fact that there are still people around, even if they can’t see them.
As if Will read his mind, he quickly breaks the kiss. “Mike—Mike we’re outside, what if someone catches us?”
“They won't."
“But…”
“I don’t care. If they have a problem I’ll kick their ass.”
Will giggles, covering his mouth, something he always does out of habit, but Mike loves his laugh. “And you think you could beat them? The last time you got in a fight you almost got your face smashed into the ground.”
Mike playfully scoffs. “Well, for your information, I was twelve. Since then I gained some muscle! Hm?” Mike tries to nonchalantly flex his scrawny arms, but all that appears is the smallest bump.
Will snorts, and grabs the collar of Mike’s shirt, pulling him forward so they are even closer. Mike falls forward, his hands landing on the wall behind Will under his arms. “It doesn’t matter. You would impress me anyway, paladin.”
Mike’s heart flip-flops.
Will slides his warm hands to Mike's back rapidly, staying on top of Mike’s shirt. One hand slides up his back and nestles itself in Mike’s dark curls, which erupts a sound that Mike’s would be too embarrassed to admit escaped him all while Will’s other hand simultaneously reaches underneath Mike’s shirt.
Will lunges forward, licking into Mike’s mouth passionately. Will has never kissed anyone before, and (quite embarrassingly) it shows, so Mike decides to lead the best he can. Sucking on Will’s tongue and maneuvering his tongue down his throat to the best of his abilities. Even if it's messy, and sloppy, it’s different from when he kissed El, because this time: It’s everything Mike has ever wanted.
Mike doesn’t think he can be more grateful that they are both drunk.
Suddenly remembering he needs to breathe, he breaks the kiss, wiping the glistening spit off his chin and looks down at Will. Both of them stay there, catching their breaths.
His gaze travels around Will’s face, taking in his kiss-stained lips, his tousled hair, his dopey, tipsy grin and oh god his eyes.
Mike has never seen Will’s eyes like this, so full of intent and an intenseness that sends a shock through Mike’s mind.
Will’s grip tightens around Mike’s hair, and he leans in to give Mike a quick peck on the corner of his bottom lip.
And at this, all restraint Mike felt before ebbs away. He leans down, mimicking the soft touch of Will’s lips and peppers the side of Will’s cheek. He reaches up and cups the bottom of Will’s chin, tilting it upwards before making his way down to his neck.
He nips at the skin along the way until he settles down at the base of his neck before grappling on, sucking at the soft skin. Will shutters under him, his shaking breath ever so slightly brushing the sides of Mike's face, and Mike responds by lapping the area with his tongue.
Will suddenly stiffens, and Mike stops, sitting up but still close enough to where their noses are just inches apart.
“Mike.” Will whispers, the moon shining through the lattice fence behind them, casting a grid shadow onto his face.
“Hm?” Mike responds, but he’s too distracted to talk. His eyes trail down to the purple smudge on Will’s neck, and his stomach churns with butterflies.
“Do you think this will change anything?” Will’s hazel eyes are filled with an unusual urgency.
Mike sits back on Will’s lap, scooting a bit backwards so he’s resting on his lower thighs.
“It doesn’t have to if you don’t want it, too.”
“But do you want anything to change? I-I mean, Mike, you’re extremely drunk, how do I know you won't change your mind? How do I know this isn’t just a…a spur of the moment kind-of-thing?”
But Will’s also not in his right mind, how would Mike know if this isn’t just a spur of the moment for him?
Mike exhales. “Will, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”
“And yet you only have the courage to when you’re drunk?”
He has a point.
“They do say that drunk actions are sober thoughts.” Mike chirps, shrugging his shoulders and cracking a cheesy smile.
“You aren’t going to remember any of this.”
“That won’t stop me! I know it might take me a long time, but I want this, and I don’t want anyone else, either.”
“You, Micheal Wheeler, are a confusing man.” It seems Will’s previous hesitation has melted away, and Mike’s grin widens. Will gives him a playful shove on the shoulder, sending shockwaves through Mike. “No, a confusing boy.”
He gets up from Will’s lap and settles down next to him to the left, resting his head on Will’s shoulder. The sound of the party is beginning to die down, but he wishes that it would never end. The moon peeks through the trees beyond the fence, and the colored lights from inside cast rays onto the wood.
They stay like that for a while.