Archive of Our Own

"'My tunnels closed again,'" Max repeats, wrinkling her nose as she takes a step forward in line. "Is that meant to be a sex joke?"

Will gingerly takes the poster from her fingers, a wrinkle between his brow as he mutters, "I know a thing or two about tunnels." When he glances up again, the rest of the Party is staring at him with unabashed horror etched upon their faces. His lower lip juts out. "What? Too soon?"

Lucas sidesteps a gaggle of fangirls loudly singing Oscilloscope off-key, then presses his index finger just above the singer's head on the poster. "Wait," he says with a Cheshire grin. "Doesn't he kinda look like… Mike?"

Max scoffs. "Sure, if Wheeler was actually cool." She folds her arms across her chest, huffing a breath. "Where is he, anyway?"

"I think he went to the bathroom," Dustin offers, pointing a thumb toward the lime-green porta potties lining the sidewalk.

"For the last half hour? Did he fall in?"

Will rocks back on his heels and peers over one shoulder at the long line wrapping around the concert venue. "Should we go find him? Maybe he got lost—"

"Fuck that, I know a quicker way," Max cuts him off, holding her hand outstretched towards him. "Give me your phone."

"Why?"

"Just trust me."

Will stares at her expectant expression for a few seconds before dropping his phone onto her open palm with a small sigh.

Max types fast across the screen, unadulterated delight pulling at her lips and a sparkle gleaming in her blue eyes—she looks so happy to be doing something so undoubtedly evil. Her typing slows slightly and she whistles low under her breath as she begins to scroll, fingernail tapping a rhythm against the screen protector. It's only a second later that she barks a laugh, biting her lower lip back between her teeth as she types one final time.

She winks, and it's closely followed by a familiar bloop sound from somewhere in the crowd.

Grindr.

Max hands Will back his phone with a satisfied, "Found him."

"Speak of the goddamn devil," Dustin says as Mike sprints through the crowd with an oversized brown paper bag crinkled between his hands. The outer edge is covered in a dusting of fine white powder, as is Mike's upper lip and the collar of his Birthday ***, Sponsored by *** Raccoon tee shirt.

Mike is out of breath when he skids to stop in front of Will.

"Fuck," he wheezes, cheeks turning Claude red. "That took forever."

"What took forever?"

Mike wipes at the powder under his nose, then licks it off his middle finger with a long stripe of his tongue. Will watches his throat work as he swallows.

"Had to get some extra powder."

Lucas' eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Man, you're doing drugs now?" He walks over slowly, hands poised at his chest. "Mike, listen to me, this isn't you—"

"It kind of is, actually," Max cuts in.

"Max!"

"What?" She shrugs, then brushes her hair back behind her ears. "Think about it. One life-altering event—say his girlfriend dying during the series finale of a TV show in the same episode his best friend ended their homoerotic friendship by calling him his Tammy—and he's going to be posted up on Grindr asking power bottoms for cocaine." She lifts a mocking brow with a sly smirk. "Oh, wait."

Mike flips her off. "I wasn't asking power bottoms for cocaine. Holy shit."

"Dom daddy tops, then?"

"Fucking neither!"

"Oh, verse?" Max taps her chin. "I didn't really headcanon you like—"

"I was looking for powdered fucking sugar!" Mike lifts one of the sugar bags up, the late evening sunlight glinting off of the plastic. "I ran out while baking Will his eight-months-until-your-birthday cake." Mike glances over at him with a fond smile. "I know you like your cakes with powdered sugar."

Will feels his chest clench pitifully.

"Oh yeah," he agrees, smiling softly. "You remembered."

Mike smiles just as wide, eyes squinting through the sunshine and his nose scrunching as he takes in the boy standing in front of him.

God, I want to take him home and **** his **** until he is screaming and ******* all over my ****. Then, I want to—

Max looks between them, scowling. "Is anyone going to address the massive fucking elephant in the room?"

"What room?"

"Max!" Dustin gasps. "That's rude! You can't just body shame people!"

"Fuck Kate Bush," she mumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm obviously talking about Mike being on Grindr!"

"I told you that I was looking for powdered sugar!"

"On Grindr? Every heard of DoorDash, idiot?"

Lucas perks up. "DoorDash: Reply with AWOOGA for a seventy-five percent off coupon for orders twenty dollars and up! Hurry now and don't miss this end of Summer sale!"

"Oh hell no," Mike shivers. "I'm not falling for that shit again—"

"AWOOGA!" Dustin shouts, brushing past roughly Mike to stand next to Lucas. It's almost criminal watching the light drain from his eyes as Lucas speaks the following punchline.

Max turns back to Mike. "Earth to Wheeler," she snaps her fingers under his nose. "Grindr. You. Profile. Are you gay?"

Mike holds up his phone, rolling his eyes.

"See? Told you it was just powdered sugar." Mike shuts his cellphone off and slides it into the back pocket of his jeans. "Now, I can finally leave and finish baking Will's cake—"

Will grips his sleeve, tugging slightly. "You're really gonna leave?"

"Will, your cake—"

Will pouts, thumping his foot like a little bunny. "I really wanted to sing Trailers After Dark with you…" He sighs, glancing around at the crowd slowly moving towards the ticket guards at the front entrance. "I guess I'll have to find another curly-haired guy who dresses like a Goodwill rack and smells kinda like piss all the time to sing with."

"Egads!" A curly-haired guy who is dressed like a Goodwill rack and who smells kinda like piss steps up to stand beside them; he jumps slightly and clicks his heels together. "Hiya, beautifart, I couldn't help but overhear that you may require the assistance of me to sing Trailers After Dark." He holds out a hand. "Carlton MAYFIELDSMAX at your service."

Max lifts a brow. "Wait, isn't that my name—"

It's at that moment that a tornado sweeps across the sidewalk, injuring no one, and grabs hold of Carlton and slingshots him somewhere far, far away to the tune of Cyclone by Baby Bash and T-Pain.

"Whoa," a short brunette says, stepping forward with wonder in her hazel eyes. "I could totally make a thirst trap edit of this and post it on Tik-Tok."

Another girl steps beside her, shaking her head. "I bet it'll be child locked."

Another woman, seemingly Australian, steps out of a dark back alley, dressed in an oversized Alvin mascot costume and carrying a bloomin' onion in her hands. She hisses something about purple panties, throws a handful of the bloomin' onion toward the two women, and screams at the top of her lungs as she awkwardly sprints away, "Lactose and towelus!"

Clarke, recovering from rereading chapter seventeen of Matador and wiping bloomin' sauce from her eyebrows, shouts back, "Link?"

Mike snorts and points a finger at her. "Wouldn't it be so funny if she had a tattoo parlor and I inappropriately used her bathroom?"

"What?"

Mike shakes his head with a small sigh of disappointment. "Nevermind. Just forget it. Nobody understands me anyway."

Will looks up at him, hot tears pricking behind his eyes.

I do, Mike. I understand you.

🐇 🐕‍🦺 🐈 🦊 🐹 🧸

Jane joins them just as they enter into the venue, wiping the blood from under her nose as she breaks a hole through the brick wall. She grins wide as she sees them, shrieking a giggle as she runs straight to Dustin, jumping into his arms. He spins her around, her arms lifting above her head, and they share a tender kiss, the Eleven blood transferring between their lips.

"I missed you all so very much!" she says, brushing the mortar dust from her skirts and reaching into her over-the-shoulder bag to hand each of them a little figurine of an animal—a gift from her travels.

"I always believed that every person has the spirit of an animal inside of them," Jane explains, holding up her own miniature bear cub. "Each animal represents how I see all of you."

Will stares down at the carved wooden bunny on his palm, and he squeezes it between his fist, smiling softly a Jane. "Thank you," he says after a moment, "I love it."

"A dog, really?" Mike huffs, pinching the miniature between his fingers. He's scowling, an ugly expression pulling at his face. "I'm so a wolf."

Max huffs. "What would give you that impression, Wheeler?"

"Ever heard of Warehare?"

"What the—what are you even talking about?"

"It's a Byler variant."

"A what?"

The opening band steps out onto the stage only a few minutes later—"Let's fucking rock hard tonight, Indie! We're Sleeper's Bell!"—and the crowd goes absolutely wild while screaming flirtatious remarks towards the drummer and trying to start a mosh pit to indie music.

The Party crowds the VIP section, sipping on fruity drinks and trying to achieve the concept of being drunk to see Finn Wolfhard.

Jane and Dustin are sitting at one end of the couch and are scrolling through Jane's camera roll; they're lost in deep discussion about her travels and about their first ever trip as an established couple that they are taking at the end of summer.

Lucas and Max and standing near the foot of the small set of steps leading to the VIP podium lounge, heads bent low as they speak quietly under the synthetic swell of music.

Mike is sitting on the opposite end of the couch; Will is on his lap. They're splitting a bag of powdered sugar, giggling as it covers their chins and cheeks, spilling across the fabric of the couch. Mike had given each of the couples their own bag of sugar, as Princess La had been so very generous in giving him ample supply of the stuff. For once, Mike felt like giving back—he'd Venmo request them for each individual particle of powdered sugar they consumed, and or wasted, later that night.

For now, let them eat cake.

Mike takes the time to watch Will, as if they had only recently reconnected after Mike got married to a woman and fell into depressive conformity and Will became an Eisner award winning artist and they had raunchy birthday sex at Will's Chicago apartment after Mike lied to his Sharon Stone looking wife about a writing conference. Maybe they'd flirt over landscaping and sex raccoons—or maybe, just maybe, Mike would disappear completely.

Ha, he thinks smugly. What a fucking chud.

Will bites his lower lip.

Fuck.

Do you like the way I flick my tongue, or nah? Will, you can ride my face until you're drippin' ***. Can you lick the tip and throat the ****, or nah? Can you let me stretch that ***** out, or nah? I'm not the type to call you back tomorrow. But the way you wrappin' 'round me is a prob—

"Holy shit!" someone shouts from the main floor, shouldering past other concertgoers to stand at the balcony of the VIP section. "I can't believe I've found you like this, Finn!"

Suddenly, a bunch of shrieking women crowd their section, screaming variations of, "Foah!" and, "Byler in real life oh my fucking god," and hold up their cellphones to record Will and Mike. Will squirms under the unwarranted attention, so Mike wraps a protective arm across his lithe waist and tugs him backward to rest against his chest. Mike peers over the delicate slope of his shoulder and scowls at the intruders.

"Can I help you?" he spits, lips tugged into a deep frown.

One of the girls bursts into tears immediately.

Another takes a round of pictures with the flash on. "Finn, is this confirmation that you are both gay and dating Noah?"

What the fuck?

"What are you—?" he asks incredulously, light, pink lips parting into a hole around his evident confusion. "Who the fuck is Noah?"

Will leans back and whispers against the shell of Mike's ear, "I think they think you're Finn Wolfhard, Mike."

Mike pulls away, as if burned. "As if! I'd never drink my own piss."

They're approached by another girl, trembling, carrying one of the concert posters between her fingers. Just as she steps onto the tiny stairs leading to the VIP section, Max bodychecks her and tosses her onto the ground.

"Whoa!" Lucas nods approvingly, recording the video on his phone. "Girls gone wild!"

The fangirls eventually break the barricade of Max, rushing up the steps and crowding around Mike and Will. They lean in close, talking fast and posting lives on Twitter, Instagram, and Tik-Tok. One girl named Halley pushes past the other screaming women and stands menacingly before them. She clutches a plate of saran-wrapped cookies in her hand.

"Finn," she says slowly, as if calculating every word. "I came to your Detroit show. Do you remember me?"

"I'm not Finn."

She clenches her teeth. "You tricked me, you know. I planned ahead. I researched your shows. I knew the exact second you'd start singing Tunnels so I could sneak off to the bathroom and avoid the song." Her chest is heaving and the plate of cookies is crumbling beneath her fist; she points one long, veiny finger at him. "Guess what you fucking did, Finn."

Halley towers over him. "You didn't sing Tunnels when I went to the bathroom," she continues. "Oh fucking no. You waited until you saw me come back and then you sang that godforsaken song."

"I'm not Finn—"

"Well, now I have a surprise for you," she says with a slow smirk, unwrapping the cookies. "I hope you like hot dog shit from the pavement."

Just as she was about to stuff the mystery cookie into his mouth, Dustin and Jane restrain her, tossing the cookies somewhere into the mosh pit; loud screams can be heard as the mystery ingredient rains down upon their heads.

"Let me go! I must take vengeance!"

Dustin scoffs. "Fuck with Byler and see what happens."

"That's not Byler," one of the fangirls—a busty brunette with triple D's named Junith, wearing a Frost Me Like One of Your Gingerbreads tee shirt—says. "That's Foah."

"Byler."

"Foah."

"Byler."

"Foah."

Will sucks in a breath. "Can someone tell me what a Foah is?"

"Oh, god," one of the girls says with a shaking voice, face paling as she steps away from their section. "You've summoned her."

"Summoned who?"

"The Eerie Top."

Mike lifts a brow. "Huh?"

A few of the girls start muttering at the reveal of the title, some visibly shaking with hot tears falling down their faces. Some of the girls hold each other, comforting themselves and slowly backing away toward the stage.

It's in that moment that another girl steps into the VIP section, cloaked in darkness and hunched slightly over. Her fade is veiled in shadows and she wears heavy jewelry on every available inch of visible skin. All around her, smoke forms, bubbling across the floor and coating everything in a fine mist of glitter and the smell of charred hot dogs. A small dog-like creature—almost resembling a Demo, so Mike hugs Will even tighter—follows beside her.

She lifts her head to stare at Mike.

"Foah is a way of life," she begins, voice grave. "It's a dedication, a total rejection of the ways of old. It's a love story like nothing else." She takes a step forward. "It's the breeze on a summer's day. The crest of the high tide against the—"

"High Tide mention," Leo and Mynna say in unison.

The cloaked figure silences them, lifting a hand from the slimy head beside her. "As I was saying, they are the sound of laughter during bursts of wonder. The chime of bells through the whistle of wind. The first sip of your favorite drink after not having it for a long time." She steadies a breath and removes the hood. "They are love in its purest form."

Dustin and Jane are openly crying, wiping at each other's tears with powdered sugar-coated fingers. "Holy shit, that's beautiful."

"Who are you?" Mike sucks in a breath.

She faces him again. "I'm alice_rees68347," she says with a monotone voice. "Otherwise known as FoahThinker."

One girl makes a nasty face. "I can't believe you're actually RPFing in the big twenty twenty-six. Get a life, loser."

Alice shakes her head. "Don't even play, lad." She places a hand gingerly over her heart and stares up at the erected Foah pride flag perched just above the VIP section. Mike wonders, for the first time that night, when it was put up there. It's not even June, he thinks. "Anyway, stream Matador."

"Fuck Matador."

Suddenly, all they can hear is someone shouting RAHHH and running full force into the girl, sending her spiraling through the venue and landing on the stage. The opener keeps playing nonetheless.

Bi stands tall, hands on her hips with a cape billowing behind her. "Speak on Matador and it'll cost you."

The Party crowds together on the small couch, looking out in exasperation at the girls standing around them. They all sigh and scream in unison, "Can someone just tell us who Foah is?"

It's then that they all start to glow brightly.

"Will, hold me!" Mike shouts.

"On god I Will!"

They hold each other like aliens in a field, eyes squeezing shut.

🐇 🐕‍🦺 🐈 🦊 🐹 🧸

"Are they alive?"

"I'm not really sure. Maybe go and poke them?"

"I'm a fish."

Mike slowly blinked awake, squinting through the overhead glare of the fluorescents and smacking his lips together to bring moisture to his mouth. It's then that he realizes that his teeth feel very sharp and his lips feel incredibly wet… hairy?

His eyes fully open and he looks around to see that he's in some sort of cage, surrounded by animals.

His eyes widen and he scrambles to his feet—or, rather, tries to—but his nails scratch against the concrete and he plops back down onto his side. He whimpers, snout pressed to the floor. What the fuck, he thinks, then he reaches a hand up to his face, only to see a paw rising instead.

"Am I a fucking dog?!" Mike shouts, followed by a low bark.

Max snorts. "Will certainly walks you like one."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Okay, yay 💗."

"How did you manage to speak a heart emoji out loud?"

"I'm mythical like that, type shit."

Lucas sits up suddenly, a horrified expression pulling on his fox face. He glances hurriedly around the cage, taking into the animalistic forms of his friends and girlfriend. "Where the hell are we?"

A mouse scurries toward them, wearing eyeglasses and carrying a tiny makeshift clipboard. "Welcome to the Animal Pharm."

A starfish lifts a rock and adds on, "Aka, the Powdered Sugar Off Grindr awareness support group."

Mike points at the starfish, then looks at Max. "See? I told you it was perfectly normal."

"I still think you're a raging homotron3000 with odd tendencies."

"What kind of tendencies?"

"Fucking weird ones."

The mouse pulls a tiny podium over and climbs on top of it, clearing his voice before turning back to the Party. One of the larger animals angles a spotlight in the form of a heat lamp over his head and the mouse blinks through it before sticking up a tiny thumbs up.

"Let's start with introductions, shall we?" he points a finger at his own chest. "My name is Ross Duffer and I'm a recovering powdered sugar addict, but not the—ah—sugar kind."

Mike nods. Makes sense.

"Hi, Ross," everyone mumbles around the cage.

A fish sticks his head out from the rim of a fishbowl, sputtering slightly around the oxygen invading his little lungs. His fins struggle to find purchase on the slippery glass before he manages to hold himself up. He coughs.

"I'm Michael Jackson, but I'm not in recovery, I still do that shit."

"Hi, Mic—"

Dustin, who is now a guinea pig and being held protectively in bear cub Jane's large paws, squeaks out with furrowed brows, "How do we know that you're the real Michael Jackson, huh?"

Michael the Fish sighs dramatically. "Hehe."

"Holy shit, holy shit!" Dustin exclaims, jumping around in Jane's arms. "I'm a huge fan! Can you do the moonwalk?"

"I'm a fish."

The next animal to step forward is a a dolphin-bear chimera hybrid on life support. "My name is Frost," she says gravely. "The only recovering I'm doing is missing my big titty goth girlfriend," she flops around on the floor, making sad noises in a puddle of water. "Anywho, anyone won't me?"

"Hi, Frost."

The rest of the animals introduce themselves and then the Party steps up. Mike as a puppy, Max as a feral ginger cat, Lucas as a sly fox, Jane as a protective and curious bear cub, and Dustin as a guinea pig. And then—

"Wait, where's Will?" Mike looks around frantically.

They're approached next by a white kitten humming Noah Kahan. "Is this Will you speak of the bunny sleeping over yonder?" Waverly—her collar tag says—asks, pointing with her nose to a little bunny rabbit sleeping soundly on a cot made of straw.

Mike immediately runs to his side, panting for breath as he skids to a stop.

Will is snoring softly, curled into his fluffy body and cuddling with a stuffed carrot; Mike finds himself his suddenly with cuteness aggression.

I wanna bite his cheeks so bad.

Which ones… that's up for interpretation.

"Why is he sleeping?"

"He had a terrible curse put on him."

Jane walks over. "How do we wake him up again?"

A little birdie flies overhead and lands on one of the rails of the cage, chirping softly. She meets Mike's worried gaze. "Only true love's kiss can wake this little bunny up again." She flies away, freeing herself through a crack in one of the higher windows.

Mike looks over at the Party. "Wha—who is Will's true love?"

Everyone stares deadpan at him.

"What?"

"Mike."

Lucas and Max share a look. "Should we just tell him?"

"No, let him figure it out like the idiot he is."

"I'm right here," Mike grumbles, then shoots Max an offended expression. "Also, if you know who he true love is, say it so we can wake him! Will is more important than whatever lesson you're trying to teach me."

Dustin clears his throat, "Well, if you really wanna know—"

A squirrel jumps from one of the higher rungs and lands in front of Mike; she holds out an expectant hand. "Marcie," she says. "It's not a pleasure, though, and don't tell me your name."

Mike takes her hand tentatively. "Uh, okay?"

"If you want to know how to find his true love, you need to meet with the Oracle."

"Oh, I have an app for that."

"I bet you do," Max mumbles under her breath.

Marcie rolls her eyes. "Not that Oracle," she chastises. "I'm talking about our elusive Animal Pharm Oracle that lives in the big screen up there." She points to a mounted television screen.

"To get her attention, scream this as loud as you can."

She slips Mike a folded piece of paper. Once he unfolds it, the serial killer letters spell out:

Mike feels a shiver licking up his spine at the text. The mere thought of Will injuring himself fills him with unadulterated and visceral rage so fiercely he's almost lightheaded from it. He grips the paper between his fingers, clenches his teeth, and screams the words as loud as he is able.

The television flickers once, twice, three times to be exact before catching. A woman's face appears upon the screen, and she squints at them from her higher angle vantage point.

"Who the fuck scraped Will's knees?" she seethes, visibly shaking.

Mike lifts his chin. "How the fuck do you know Will?"

"Check my PFP."

"Huh?"

Marcie steps forward and bows. "Oh, great Oracle," she begins. "How shall we wake this sleeping bunny?"

"You already know it's true love's kiss," the Oracle says, bored. "Why did you disturb me, Marciekins?"

"It appears that his friends do not know his true love's identity. Whatever shall they do?"

"Beats me," the Oracle shrugs. "Maybe they should all just kiss him?"

The room erupts into loud and excited chatter. Marcie bows once more. "Your wisdom is without bounds," she says. "Great Oracle, thank you for bestowing upon us this knowledge."

The Oracle eats a Cheeto. "Sounds good. I'll return now to reading Byler hickies and panty, whimper, baby."

Birdie returns through the crack in the window. "Link?"

The Oracle types something loudly on her end and then sends a thumbs up through the screen. "I emailed you."

"It's a link for a prom dress," Birdie says solemnly. "I'm a bird."

"Holy fucking dog shit on pavement, not again!"

Mike turns his attention back to Will and his peaceful, sleeping face. He's so beautiful that Mike almost wants to break down and cry. Or make-out with him sloppy style, but that is neither here, nor there.

"I guess we all gotta kiss him," Lucas says, shrugging.

Mike barks at him. "Don't even think about pressing your lips anywhere near my bunny."

"Your bunny?" Max lifts a brow, licking her paw.

A knock sounds from a maintenance closet outside of the cage, and a woman's voice rasps, "Are those gay boys going to kiss yet? I'm getting bored." As if the walls are listening, they close in and the woman screams. "Not fucking now, Sare! Get back to cleaning!"

The janitor wearing a fake mustache and goat-tee comes through next, humming Pitbull's greatest hits under her breath and not cleaning a thing. She makes it to the closet and slips a plate of gluten-free, flour-free, egg-free, dairy-free, sugar-free, keto friendly raisin cookies beneath the undercut of the door. Sare immediately gobbles them up.

Jane taps Mike's shoulder.

"Maybe you should go first," she suggests. "If it doesn't work, we'll all take a turn. For Will, right?"

For Will.

"I'll kill myself if any of you even think about kissing him."

"Do a backflip," Max whispers.

Mike takes a moment to stare down at Will once more, his heartbeat picking up speed in his chest. He wants to touch him, but he no longer has disposable thumbs. "Okay," he rasps, utterly breathless. "I'll kiss him."

Just as Mike begins to lean down and kiss him, the door swings wide open and none other than Finn Wolfhard comes barreling in.

"Don't kiss him!"

Mike flips around. "What? Who the fuck are you?"

Finn puffs out his chest. "I'm one of Will's seven evil exes and you have to battle me to the death for his hand in marriage."

"Marriage?!"

From somewhere behind him, a dejected voice mutters, "Can't believe we got semi Foah confirmation before GTA 6. This fucking blows."

Mike grins. "I know a thing or two about blowing."

"What."

"What."

Dustin points a hairy finger at Finn. "Mike, go low on him! You have to rotate his testicles enough to twist the spermatic cord. This will cause him immense pain and cut off his blood flow and—"

"Whoa," Lucas says, nodding. "Elite ball knowledge."

"Wait, why do you know so much about testicular torsion?"

Dustin shrugs. "Personal experience."

"Oh."

Just as Finn began to round the cage, a bat suddenly flew down from the rafters above and began to bite at him. "Mike!" Eddie screams, hoarse. "Kiss Will now!"

"Eddie, baby," Dustin says next, tearful. "I just saw Steve…"

With the distraction of Eddie potentially turning Finn into a vampire, Mike turns back to Will and kisses him with the force of one-thousand suns.

Will tastes like home.

The little bunny blinks blearily up at the lights, and then looks over at Mike. He smiles softly and squeaks happily.

"It's you," he says.

Mike grins, just before kissing him again, "It's me."

When they pull away from each other, they see that everyone in the cage has begun to glow, just like they did in the VIP section. Their eyes widen as the cage begins to shake violently. The other animals are screaming and running around, and Michael the Fish is singing Billie Jean.

Mike drapes his body over Will's, holding him tight.

Everything goes dark, just like the trailers.

When they come to, they're back in the Wheeler basement. Jane is still holding Dustin as if he is the little spoon, and Max and Lucas are huddled together for warmth in the corner. Will is under Mike once more, looking up at him with wide-eyed wonder. They're all human again.

"Hi," Mike breathes.

"Hi," Will grins.

Mike climbs off of him, but immediately pulls Will onto his lap and wraps his arms around his waist. He wonders if Will can feel his heartbeat pressed up against his back. He hopes so; he can feel Will's pulse under his fingers.

Max groans loudly. "Ugh, they're gonna be so fucking gross now."

"Yup," Mike pops the 'p.' "I'm gonna love the shit out of my boyfriend."

Will turns his neck to look back at him, a fond expression pulling at his face and coloring his cheeks pink. "Your boyfriend? I don't remember you asking me yet, Michael."

"True love's kiss wasn't enough, baby?"

"Maybe I want more."

"Oh, yeah?" Mike bites his lip. "What if I bend you over—"

Max stands abruptly and drags Lucas with her. "Yeah, not staying for that shit." She waves a hand over her shoulder. "Congrats on coming out and all, but do not involve me in whatever that is."

"You're homophobic."

"You've been gay for five minutes, Wheeler."

"Longer than you."

"Wanna bet?"

Lucas perks up. "Wait, what? Can I watch next time?"

Jane mumbles to Dustin, "Lucuck wasn't on my Bingo card this year." She also stands, tugging him behind her and following closely behind Max and Lucas as they take the stairs to the main foyer of the Wheeler house.

Once everyone is gone, Mike focuses his attention back on Will.

"You really want me to ask?"

Will bites his lip. "I'd love some romance, yes."

Mike clears his throat, pressing his lips just below Will's earlobe, "Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down." He presses a kiss there, then heads lower.

"Never gonna run around and desert you." Kiss. "Never gonna make you cry."

Mike drags his lips further along Will's cheek.

"Never gonna say goodbye."

A kiss to the side of his nose. "Never gonna tell and lie and hurt you."

Just as his mouth hovers over Will's, the heat between their bodies almost suffocating, he whispers hotly, "Will you be my forever boy?"

Will laughs wetly. "Yes, I will."

Mike smiles wide. "And, I Mike."

They kiss sloppy style, and all feels right in the world again.

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Grindr bloops from Mike's back pocket.