Chapter Text
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↣ 1988 ↢
Will tried to concentrate on reading the book Dustin had lent him three weeks ago, but the damned fourteenth page never seemed to get past; there was always something more interesting to grab his attention. He stared at the letters on the page, but he was in another world, and it wasn't the world of the book.
Suddenly, the creaking of the basement door. Will looked back immediately, seeing the boy slowly opening the door, and in the darkness of the early morning, only the tall silhouette standing there trying to break into the basement could be made out.
"Will?"
Mike whispered, and over time Byers' vision adjusted to the light, allowing him to see his friend's tearful and depressed expression, with dark circles under his eyes and a wet face. Mike had cried again last night.
"Can I sleep here?"
He murmured almost silently, not out of fear of waking someone in the house, but because his own mind was exhausted.
"Y-Yes, of course..." Will closed the book and turned on the lamp he had temporarily attached to the wall.
Wheeler closed the basement door and descended the old stairs, bumping into the RPG table set up along the way until he reached the mattress where his best friend had slept at his house months ago, even before that happened to Eleven.
Mike was never the same after that night at the military base, nor was William, who lost his sister, but Mike lost everything .
"Did you...had another nightmare?" Byers ventures to ask the obvious, seeing Mike silently nod and wipe his nose.
"I don't want to sleep alone." Mike's voice was so weak and hoarse that it sounded childish.
Will made room on the air mattress where he slept every day, which could also fit two people and was previously made for him and Jonathan, but his brother started sleeping with Nancy upstairs. That's when Mike and Will's nights together became frequent due to Mike's loneliness.
Normally, Wheeler slept with his back to Will, but that night, he was face to face with the boy, who was waiting for the moment his friend would turn around, but that didn't happen; in fact, he showed a tear falling from his eyes, running down his nose and dripping onto the pillow.
"Everything reminds me of her..."
"What?" He felt bad for not having understood well what he claimed.
"Seeing you here, sleeping in my basement, reminds me of when it all began..." Mike hated showing his weakness, trying to keep his voice steady and clutching the pillow. "When will this feeling go away?"
"I don't know, Mike," he whispered, perhaps not what he wanted to hear, but he needed to. "I don't want to replace her image..."
"You two are irreplaceable."
Will ended up smiling, even though it wasn't the best moment. Mike didn't smile back, but he didn't need to, because his eyes were shining, and not just because of tears.
The two remained silent, but they never felt discomfort; on the contrary, they felt comforted by that silence, their minds interacting without the use of words.
"Will."
"Yeah?"
"Promise me something?" Mike stared deep into his eyes. Then Will became slightly worried.
"Yes... What?"
"You can't leave me too" Wheeler's voice finally broke. "After what happened, I realized how easily I could lose you in the blink of an eye, and it breaks my heart just thinking about it. I can't live in a world where you're not here, Will!" The crying intensified so much that they both had to lift half their bodies off the mattress, and Mike covered one eye, sobbing. "Please, don't leave me too, Will..."
"M-Mike, everything's fine" Startled by that sudden outburst, he didn't think before hugging him awkwardly "Don't talk like that..."
Michael sobbed and buried his face in his friend's neck while clutching his clothes, desperately wanting physical touch, as if Will could disappear at any moment. Mike had already witnessed Will and Eleven's fake deaths, and now, with Eleven's real death, Mike wouldn't be prepared for Will's real death as well; it would kill him completely.
"Shhh ..." Byers decided to stroke Mike's tangled hair, which he hadn't combed in weeks due to his sedentary lifestyle "I'm here, Mike, I'm here."
Will was like a giant plush toy to Mike at that moment, being held tightly and feeling Mike's tears on his shoulders, which gradually stopped him from sobbing, sniffling several times.
"My nightmare today wasn't about El..."
Will frowned, slowly pulling away from the hug to make sure he could, and the answer was yes, because Mike let go of the fabric of his pajamas, looking into his eyes for refuge.
"I dreamt that I lost you too" he uttered the simple, depressed phrase, heavy with weight. "When I woke up, all I wanted was to be sure it was just a nightmare..."
"Mike..."
"I've been such a jerk to you so many times that I'm terrified at the thought of seeing you with someone better than me" Mike didn't want to hear, he wanted to be heard. "When you were in California, I felt anger and hatred every day at the thought of seeing you with friends far away from me, that's why I didn't answer your letters... Meanwhile, Dustin and I were in another group."
"Mike."
"And when you came back, all I can think about to this day is; how can this guy not hate me? How can he not? How can he not hate me?!"
Will no longer knew what to say, because it wasn't even necessary; he watched Mike trying to stop crying so intensely, wiping away the stubborn tears that had welled up like streams.
"I'm sorry..." he stammered tearfully, "I'm sorry..."
Byers, seeing Michael's state, couldn't think of anything else but wiping away his own tears, reaching out and touching the boy's freckled cheek. He felt the weight increase after Wheeler tilted his head to the side at the immediate touch, like a bodily reflex. When his gaze met, it revealed those eyes of a homeless puppy, as if he were waiting for permission to do anything or as if he were up to something and feared a scolding.
"Mike, I will never leave you."
Hearing his voice, Mike slowly closed his eyes; he truly needed anything from Byers, whether it was hearing his voice or feeling the warmth of his hand, anything.
As they parted, something was missing, a different touch; it was their hearts, which needed to touch. Mike lowered his gaze; Will thought it was at his clothes, but when he himself looked at Mike's lips, he realized that their gazes were exactly at the same level.
Long seconds of silence formed, then they both looked at each other again at the same time, like a silent telepathy. And at no point did Will's hand slide from Michael's pale face, where he began to unconsciously touch his skeletal fingers along Byers' arm.
The nocturnal sounds like cicadas and barking filled Hawkins; the musty smell of the basement should have disturbed them, but on the contrary, it comforted them, as it reminded them of every night of role-playing games they spent together, the ones that resulted in fights, hugs, arguments, and celebrations.
In one swift movement, Will could already feel Mike's panting breath as he recovered from crying, he could feel the weight of those frozen tears and the meaning of each one that fell. Mike, on the other hand, wouldn't let Will remove his hand from his face, because when he sensed that it was about to move away, he placed his own hand over it, physically asking him not to leave, a kind of permission for that closeness.
In an unconscious action, their lips suddenly met, both filled with haste and eagerness for exploration, as if they had been waiting for this for a long time. While Will had desired this for years, Mike was the one showing desperation to feel it, using both hands, one on the side of Will's face and the other in his friend's brown hair, pressing his fingers into the slightly curly strands. Mike's breath ran out extremely quickly, forcing him to try to breathe heavily so he wouldn't have to break the contact of their lips, as if he were drowning underwater. Will was calmer because he was enjoying the moment as a conquest he had longed for, having plenty of breath to simply continue running his hand from Mike's cheek to his dark hair, even though it was tangled. It wasn't a problem; after all, it still had the same lavender shampoo scent. After all, Mike lived with three girls in that house, so Will had always liked the floral scent that Mike carried around since he was little.
Out of sheer exhaustion, Mike finally pulled away, breathing heavily to regain the breath he had almost completely lost, even though Will was completely calm, just a little nervous. Thinking it would end there, Byers felt Mike's hungry mouth sink into his neck without warning, even feeling the tips of Wheeler's teeth touch his skin due to the boy's desperation. Will hadn't expected to be bitten like that; when he felt the grip on the curve of his neck like the prey of a carnivore, it caused him to gasp louder than he should have in the basement, realizing the danger that was about to unfold.
"M-Mike..."
All that came out of Wheeler was his tired, yet insistent, nasal breathing, which didn't stop biting him and burying his nose in his neck, forcing them both to lean back and throw themselves back onto the mattress, but now it wouldn't be to try to sleep.
Mike's body weight had always been a challenge for Will, for example when Mike threw himself on top of him for a hug after a game victory, because Wheeler was heavy for Will's small frame; however, now it didn't seem to bother him at all, even though he was almost completely on top of William.
As Will tried to hold back his voice and sighs, he grew more and more tired; it was difficult to contain himself while feeling Mike's warm, wet tongue exploring his body. His anxiety was so intense that he managed to overcome the temptation to continue, and Will mustered the strength to form the simple sentence.
"Mike...wait, let's s-stop..."
Mike had probably deleted his sense of hearing, since he ignored it, but it was noticeable that it wasn't out of ignorance, but rather out of sheer inattention.
"Mike!"
When he let out a firm voice, Wheeler stopped exploring him in that hungry way, placing both hands on the mattress around Byers lying down, staring at him with terrified eyes. Mike realized how much he was losing control, without even noticing or knowing he was capable of it, especially since he had never done that with Eleven before, nor did he even know that side of himself that had awakened that morning, frightening him.
"Shit..." he whispered extremely quietly, closing his eyes in immense embarrassment. "Sorry, man, I-I didn't-"
"We should go to sleep..."
He said breathlessly, but calmly and firmly. Mike confirmed, pressing his lips together as he always did when he was nervous and anxious, moving away from Will and lying down beside him on the mattress, which now had its sheet all rumpled.
After what happened, Mike refused even to share the same blanket with Will, standing on the edge of the mattress about to fall off with nothing to cover him, also avoiding any kind of eye contact, but the strange thing was that he still needed Byers' presence in the room; going to his room would be the worst option after what had happened. Mike, for the first time, was scared, very scared, much more so than Will, who processed everything more slowly.
"I know you love three layers of blankets to sleep with, but I only have one here. You know how warm it is down here, but not for you" he said, trying to break the now uncomfortable silence. "Don't be cold."
He pulled the blanket all the way open and covered Mike's body along with his own. That's when Wheeler felt more comfortable turning to face Will, but he was still unable to look at his face; he felt like a stranger. Will noticed Mike's hand trembling, just like his lips. Mike really didn't know what had just happened; he seemed regretful or frightened.
"Mike."
Wheeler swallowed hard, no longer looking at Will.
"Yes?"
"Once, El told me you were a lousy kisser" he chuckled softly, which is when Mike finally looked up. "She said it was a secret, but, you know... I didn't think so, not at all."
For the first time, Mike smiled; he didn't quite laugh, but exhaled through his nose in relief, pausing to think about himself, murmuring.
"Maybe I'm a lousy kisser with girls..."
Will didn't want to reveal his sister's secret that way, but it was necessary, because Mike stopped crushing his own fingers and shaking his legs under the covers. Will risked reaching for Michael's arm, but didn't move, only placing his hand on Wheeler's cold skin, which seemed to be made of ice. In return, Mike positioned himself better, placing one leg between Will's two, nothing beyond the limit, he just wanted the embrace of the boy's warm legs, which enveloped him calmly and sleepily.
Both closed their eyes; from then on, their bodies interacted without the permission of reason, drawing closer and closer until the tips of their noses touched. This calmed them both in an absurd way; it was therapy without conversation. If they had known that was all they needed to be calmer and more self-assured, they would have done it a long time ago.
Those months after everything happened, with Will living in Mike's basement, would be long...
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