Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was Wednesday and Dustin approached their lunch table一being only Lucas, Will and Mike一with a crazed look. Mike asked him if he’d slept at all in the past four days (Max would’ve said worse). Dustin fake laughed, and dramatically revealed a letter to the table. Smack dab in the middle was a bold fifteen-ninety.

“I call for celebration,” Dustin announced. “Games, movies, pizza, all nighter. This is non-negotiable, my brothers.”

‘All nighters’ never imply all nighters. In the party, an ‘all nighter’ means they all fall asleep some time after four, and the last man standing gets bragging rights. More often than not, the last man standing is Dustin, and Mike can absolutely not have that happen tonight.

As many people know, Mike Wheeler is not a very organized person. He’s incredibly impulsive, follows his heart instead of his head, and he can rarely ever say no to his friends.

Immediately, there was nothing alarming about their plans. He didn’t think anything of the proposition until Will’s foot knocked against his under the table and then it hit一and oh my God, he’s going to die. Mike and the boy he’s unbearably in love with in close quarters all night. Not only that, since that’d be a dream scenario for him, but unfortunately they’re stuck with their friends who have no clue about the fact that Mike and Will spent yesterday evening together at Lover’s Lake. They have no idea that Mike and Will made out in Mike’s car at Lover’s Lake last night, and that it’s the only thing that Mike’s been able to think about ever since. So, yes, Mike is dumb and impulsive and he wasn’t even allowed to say no in this scenario.

It’s Friday now, and Mike had stupidly offered up his dear, humble basement for their little celebration. Lucas and Dustin, as soon as they make their way down the stairs, look back at the door, and then each other.

“Will’s not here yet?” Dustin asks ever so simply. Mike’s going to scream. He can’t do this.

It’s Friday night, all the odds are stacked against him, and Will’s not even here yet. His head’s spinning. He can’t remember the last time his basement had been used as their movie hub. It seems like the Byers-Hopper residence has become their recent hot spot. That’s definitely why he keeps plugging the wrong cords into the wrong outlets. How is he going to survive this? He needs a game plan.

It’s fine. They’ll turn the lights off, as they do for movie nights. Meaning, if Mike happens to blush a little too red or if his hand happens to subconsciously intertwine with Will’s under the blanket, Lucas and Dustin will be none the wiser. Mike is not obvious about how gone he is for Will Byers. Everything will work out amazingly.

The VCR starts whirring and blinking at him. He pushes it back to its position on the shelf, now in its powered state. Mike pulls the cord of the corner lamp, shutting off the light.

“My, my,” Dustin tuts, and he sounds absolutely joyous. “Mike Wheeler’s in love.”

He stretches the vowels in the word ‘love’. Mike gives him a narrowed glare, and assumes nothing of it. Maybe there’s a poster or a magazine or something or maybe he’s making a weird joke about him turning on the VCR. He’s got too much on his mind already. It’s not until he looks over to Lucas, who happens to be holding something very familiar in his hands.

“Mike, who’s this for?” Lucas holds up a cassette. He should’ve expected it. He shouldn’t have turned his back.

“Oh my god,” Mike stumbles over his feet, but somehow stops himself from tripping. “Lucas, give that to me!”

He should’ve seen this coming. There’s nothing on his mind besides snatching that tape out of Lucas’s hands, and coming up with some kind of plan to prevent his friends from ever speaking of it again. He almost walks into the coffee table, and he almost stubs his toe on the legs of the armchair, but he can’t think of that now.

“‘Lovesong’? ‘Lover boy’?” Dustin reads the J-card over Lucas’s shoulder. “‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody?’”

“Dustin, you are so dead to me.” He’s so dumb. He can’t believe he left it out on the bookshelf.

Mike really did mean to hide it. There’s a spot in the drawer he meant to store it. He can exactly picture it; right beside the box of chalk no one uses, and under one of his old National Geographic magazines. It was just so late last night when he was working on it! This morning he woke up late, so it was really the least of his worries to hide it away. It wasn’t so much in plain sight, but anyone in that corner of the basement would easily see it一and he was much too busy having a crisis over the whole sleepover thing, so clearly he didn’t put much thought into asking Lucas to check the closet.

“Mike, don’t worry about it!” Lucas holds the tape up high and behind him, just too far for Mike to reach it. “You clearly like this girl a lot to make her a whole mixtape. Just tell us about the story here.”

Mike’s brain is going into overload. He has two options here. Number one: to fight them for the tape, make an incredibly large scene, thus spurring a huge argument, and then probably saying something he doesn’t want them to know, yadda yadda. Option number two: lie to them一but only a little bit! Tell them enough to keep them satisfied.

Mike knows which option is better. Both for his sake, and for his friends’ sakes.

“What do you want to know?” Mike collapses on the arm chair, but there’s one thing that needs to be taken care of first. “And don’t you dare open the case or I swear I will never一”

“Okay, okay!” Lucas holds the tape in plain sight, places it on the side table on the end of the couch, and then shows Mike his empty hands. “No foul play here, Wheeler. We just wanna hear about this crush of yours.”

Now, he needs to come up with a damn good story.

He looks between them a few times, both of them staring at him with goofy grins, ready to make fun of him as soon as the chance arises. He doesn’t say anything to them yet. He just blinks and hopes one of them will offer him a prompt.

“So?” Dustin looks at him expectantly. “Do we know her?”

“Yes?” Mike says, slowly and unsure. “I’m not telling you who it is.”

“Damn,” Dustin clicks his teeth. “Figured out my plan.”

“He’s good,” Lucas nods sorrowfully.

“Okay, then how about, just一why haven’t we heard anything about this?”

“It’s, um,” Mike stutters. Damn it. Another wonderful idea by Michael Wheeler. What was he thinking? Friends don’t lie, Mike! “It’s new. We’re not even, like, together officially or whatever.”

Lucas and Dustin both freak out, shouting variations of ‘she likes him back!’ and cheering about his newfound game with the ‘ladies’. Mike rests his head in his hands, and watches his friends organize their next questions. It’s sweet, honestly. He knows they’re just happy for him and want to be involved since they’re good friends and all that sappy shit. Blah, blah.

Truthfully, he wants to gush. He could talk about how this ‘girl’ is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, how he feels both tongue tied and that he could talk about everything around her, and how he’s never felt more understood by anyone ever. He could say that this girl deserves way better than him, but that she, miraculously, likes him back.

God, he has so much he could say, but there’s no way he could lie that well for his friends not to immediately realize all of the times he’d said ‘she’ were lies. He’d prefer to have just a teeny tiny little more time to plan for that whole conversation, and not just an ambush in his basement. Also, he has some shame, and he’d never give his friends that much ammunition for making fun of him. He’s just thankful Max isn’t here一and extremely thankful that El was able to get Max’s stereo for him to use the past few days without question.

“Byers!” Mike has never turned around so fast in his life. The stairs creak as Will hops down, and every step is a further descent into madness for Mike.

“Your mom let me in. She just left to pick up Holly.” Will points a thumb upstairs, and Mike can’t do anything except nod jerkily. This could be so bad, like, so incredibly bad一he’s going to embarrass himself in front of someone, and he has to pick his poison within the next three seconds.

“What were you guys doing before I got here? Sounded like we were making fun of Mike,” Will sits on the end of the couch next to Dustin, which is directly in Mike’s field of vision. Translation: Mike is going to need the most immense self control in order to not blow his cover.

Will’s going to see the mixtape, and the surprise will be ruined, and it’s all fine一as long as no one opens that damn case. Is this what he gets for attempting to be a romantic? God, his heart is already racing.

“Michael here has a,” Dustin waves his hands around in the air as if searching for the words. “Massive crush一like, insanely massive一and he won’t tell us a thing!”

Oh my God, Mike already thinks he’s going to lose his mind. He tries to keep his eyes off of Will while also not raising suspicion from Lucas and Dustin. Hopefully he can pass it off as embarrassment about majorly crushing on some random girl, instead of embarrassment about your almost-boyfriend finding out how much you’re gushing about him to your shared friends.

“Oh, really?” Will’s voice sounds absolutely delighted, and Mike is going to crack under the pressure. He’s going to start screaming because, god, he’s struggling to withhold himself from glancing over and seeing the expression on Will’s face. “What brought this up?”

“We found this一” Lucas holds up the cassette so Will can see it. “一and it’s clearly a mixtape for whoever he likes. It’s full of love songs. Like, there’s Whitney Houston, Bowie, the Cure一”

“Plus, Mike was being extremely jittery when we found it,” Dustin pipes up.

When Mike finally gathers the courage to look back over at Will, he thinks he’s truly met his end. Will’s eyes are sparkling一Mike can’t think of any other way to describe them. The smile on his face is so subtle, yet the corners of his mouth are twitching, and Mike knows he’s repressing a wider grin. Even though the lights in the basement are incredibly dim and he can’t visibly see Will’s face darken, he’s definitely blushing.

What would be the most inconspicuous way for Mike to kick Dustin and Lucas out of his house?

“We’re trying to grill him to tell us about her, but he won’t tell us anything,” Dustin complains.

“Maybe that’s because it’s none of your business,” Mike suggests, and he hears Will stifle a laugh. They meet eyes for a second, and Mike must have the most panicked look on his face because Will immediately can’t hold in his laugh anymore.

“Oh my god. Byers,” Lucas gasps. He points between the two of them, and Dustin also gasps.

Mike freezes for a second, holding eye contact with Will, and awaiting the ball to drop. Shit. Chills wrack his entire body and his heart races. He’s wracking his brain for anything he can say to do collateral damage control.

“He already knew about this!” Lucas falls back against the couch dramatically. Mike lets out the breath he was unconsciously holding, and it comes out as a barking laugh.

“Son of a bitch,” Dustin hits Lucas in the chest gently. “This is why Mike was so quiet when Will told us about his mystery girl! These assholes are in kahoots!”

At least he wasn’t suspicious in the way he thought he’d be一or maybe his friends are just incredibly oblivious. Dustin and Lucas shame them jokingly for withholding serious information from the rest of the party. The two of them just shrug at their friends, and Dustin flips them off.

“Byers! You have to tell us then.” Dustin turns to him and puts his hands on each of Will’s shoulders. Will startles at Dustin’s sudden change in focus. “What’s she like? You know her, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Will nods with a big grin, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I know her pretty well. It’s obvious that she’s, like, crazy about Mike.”

Mike feels his heart pound in his chest and he doesn’t even try to contain the smile that forms on his face. He may fall just a little bit more in love at that moment. He’s on top of the moon right now. Even better than the moon一he’s on the top of fucking Jupiter. It’s a scientific marvel.

“Dude!” Dustin shakes his shoulders, and Will begs him to calm down. He releases Will and flops back against the couch. “All of my friends are getting girlfriends, and here I am. Single since I was fifteen.”

“Don’t date a Mormon next time?” Lucas suggests.

“How was I supposed to know she wasn’t supposed to date before she was sixteen?” Dustin whines. He folds in on himself and holds his head in his hands. Mike doesn’t know the full story, but when Suzie's parents found out about her and Dustin, it was a huge mess, and everything fell apart between them.

Will pats Dustin’s shoulder comfortingly. He makes eye contact with Mike, smiles, and then rolls his eyes. “You wanna pick the movie, Dustin?”

They were going to let him pick the movie anyway, but Dustin doesn’t need to know that.

“Can I?” He sits up and looks around at all of them. They nod, and he’s immediately standing up and running over to dig through the Wheelers’ movie shelf. If Mike has to guess, Dustin’s going to pick out Sixteen Candles (“It’s one of the best comedies of the decade!”) or Fast Times (“Because Phoebe Cates is a babe, duh?”)

Mike can’t sit still. He can’t get through this entire night like this. He has to get up and run around for a few minutes一or get Will alone and kiss him stupid. God, maybe romance is for him. He’s a genius for making that mixtape.

“Oh!” An excuse falls into Mike’s lap. “Did you ever manage to find the pillows, Lucas?”

“Shit, I got carried away,” He jumps up, and scurries back over to the closet. “Top shelf you said, Wheeler?”

“Should be,” Mike affirms, taking advantage of the moment to snatch the tape and slide it into his pocket. He motions for Will to get up. “We’re going to grab some things quickly from up一from my room.”

They both say their ‘okay’s and Mike tries his hardest not to pump his fist about how much of a genius he is. They trek upstairs in silence, Mike trying his hardest to calm his pounding heart.

He motions Will into his room first, and then follows, pulling the door shut in case Lucas or Dustin happen to come up looking for them. If they did, Mike thinks it would truly be the end for him; apply a little pressure and Mike wouldn't be able to lie any more. Maybe that's just the effect Will has on him.

Mike leans against the door, and Will stands in the middle of the room, raising an eyebrow at him. Will crosses his arms and eyes him up and down. Mike knows he definitely looks strange right now, though attempting to look calm and casual. His hands are in his pockets, his right grasping onto the tape. He’s putting more weight on one foot than the other, and一he doesn’t know why he’s paying so much attention to the way he’s standing. The note inside the case is now the only thing on Mike’s mind. He still has time to pull it out and pretend it’s just a cassette with no meaning.

“So,” Will smiles. “A mixtape, huh?”

“You got me there.” Mike pulls the tape out from his pocket, and holds it just in front of himself with a shaky hand. It’s do or die. He looks away from Will as he offers the tape out. “Open it.”

Will takes it from him curiously, and Mike fidgets with his hands once they’re empty. It’s too much, right? This is so lame. He was so confident, but Will’s going to hate it. He's going to scare Will away, and—God, why are his hands so sweaty?

Maybe he read into this. Maybe Will thought they were going to confess their long held love for each other and the only thing that would change would be secretly making out in their bedrooms and Mike’s car on the outskirts of town, and then they’d move away for school, and Will would obviously find some other better guy and bring him around their dorm all the time, and Mike would go crazy and一okay, he’s jumping to a lot of conclusions. Logically, he doesn’t even think Will would do any of that. The point he’s trying to make here is that labels make everything complicated.

"So, I know we can't really go anywhere, like, explicitly romantic, but I still wanted to do something for you because you deserve nice things—and I know it's really sappy and lame, and a bunch of the songs aren't really your style, but um, you know."

He rubs his sweaty hands on his pants and watches intently as Will removes the paper from the case, and unfolds it. His brow is furrowed as he reads. His eyes widen when he gets to the bottom of the page. He blinks a few times, and Mike can see him swallow.

It took him a while to find the list. He knew it had to be somewhere in that shoebox in his drawer. Of course, to find it meant he had to open up every single thing in the box. Evidently that took some time, including the time spent where Mike sat and cringed at the things he’s written before.

"I wrote that list months ago and I was, like, tearing at my hair because I thought it was a dumb gift idea and the songs all felt wrong, and I thought you'd think it was really weird—and maybe you would've because it's, like, all love songs and I didn't even realize—"

Will laughs at his words, but he keeps his gaze steady on the paper in his hand.

When he did find the song list, however, it was definitely worth the effort. He read through all the songs on the list and thought shit, he really was oblivious. With the top titled 'will's seventeenth mix,' anyone would be able to see Mike's been absolutely gone for Will since (at the latest) last March. He grabbed a red pen to differentiate from the black ink on the page, added a few more songs on the list, and then wrote a heavy question at the bottom of the page.

“You're…” Will finally speaks again and the words trail off. He looks between Mike and the page a few times. “Oh my God.”

“I know it’s, like, insanely cheesy,” Mike scratches the back of his head, embarrassed after realizing he was silent for too long. Will's staring at him expectantly and he can't take it back now.

Labels make things complicated, yes, but Mike thinks, in some crazy and naive way, that things could be so good regardless. This is his chance to show Will that Mike’s in it. That he’ll do the sappy stuff and he’ll swallow his pride and put himself on the line一because Will deserves it. And, damn it, Mike may be a bit selfish too. He’s wasted too long pretending to want things that people say he should, so why should he hold himself back from something he truly wants?

“I know we already had that whole sappy heart to heart thing, and I know it’s kind of backwards, but I thought I should ask, like, officially or whatever, but of course you don’t have to一”

“Mike,” Will stops him from blabbing, holding his face in his hands. He’s staring directly into Mike’s eyes, rosy blush crawling up his neck and tinges the tips of his ears, and he has that coy smile that Mike can read easily.

Mike's just a giddy seventeen year old with a lot of feelings. He chooses to ignore the fact that his mom could come home any moment and that Lucas and Dustin are waiting for them in the basement. It doesn’t matter at right now一because Will’s smile writes the answer out plainly in front of him.

“Stop worrying. Obviously I’ll be your boyfriend," Will answers anyway, just above a whisper. Just for the two of them一because it’s nice to hear the words sometimes.

"Cool," Mike nods eagerly. He can't stop staring at Will's smile, at his lips—at His Boyfriend's smile. Holy shit.

"Cool," Will imitates. His arms around Mike's waist pull him closer. “Not like you haven’t already, I dunno, asked me to go to college with you, and told me you loved me, and brought me to Lover’s Lake, and—”

“Shut up, oh my God,” Mike cuts him off abruptly. “I don’t know how these things work!”

Will just smiles up at him, nose wrinkling. “Maybe I’d jumped to conclusions, but I already thought we were dating.”

And if that admission doesn’t make all of the synapses in Mike’s brain suddenly shrivel up and die, then Mike’s not sure what else has happened. It’s a pile of mush up there.

Mike's a bit of a coward, so as much as he'd been thinking earlier about kissing Will stupid, it's much easier to just stare. He's biting his lip, both of the corners of his mouth are turned up. His face has a brilliant pink twinge, and yeah—Mike definitely doesn't mind staring either.

Within moments, Will’s bringing their lips together—and holy shit, his Boyfriend(!) is kissing him right now. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to this. He barely has time to react, and before he knows it, Will’s pulling back.

“You were taking too long,” Will rolls his eyes jokingly. Mike gently shoves his shoulder, but he pulls him back towards him immediately, so it’s kind of a meaningless gesture.

The smile on his face is a permanent fixture at this point—because Will Byers just kissed him!

“You kissed me,” Mike dumbly says, because there’s absolutely nothing else in his mind right now. Will gives him a confused look. “You haven’t done that before—like, I mean I’ve kissed you, but the other way, like—you know?”

“Am I not allowed to do that?” Will teases.

“No! No—” Mike blubbers. Will laughs at his flustered state, and if Mike weren’t currently as red as a tomato, he’d complain. “If anything, you should do that more!”

“Cool it, Romeo,” Will grins, in clear joy about being able to tease Mike. “I’m about to start thinking you’re in love with me or something.”

Mike can’t conjure up a response, his mouth is gaping open like a fish. He shuts it with a click of his teeth and Will giggles at him. Full on giggles at him! Mike curses the world for making him succumb so easily to Will’s remarks. With just one teasing comment, he can wear Mike down to just a blushing mess.

“Shut up,” Mike whines. “You have to be nice to me, I’m your boyfriend now.”

“That’s not part of the rules,” Will retorts. “Besides, it’s fun.”

Will moves closer, resting his forehead against Mike’s. Mike breaks the contact almost immediately. He leans in closer, until there’s only a breath between them. He hopes that Will understands the unsaid words that repeat on loop in Mike’s brain. Will leans closer, and Mike’s about to feel smug, but—

“We should go back down,” Will whispers.

“No,” Mike groans and lets his head fall to rest on Will’s shoulder. He gets a boyfriend for not even ten minutes and then immediately has to pretend they’re just platonic best friends for life. He’s so unbelievably weak. “You’re so mean.”

“Come on, you big baby,” Will runs his hand through Mike’s hair, just to ruffle it. Mike groans again in complaint. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll fix it.”

And, though it’s incredibly nice to feel Will’s hands raking through his hair, and everything is incredibly calm and blissful at the moment, it reminds Mike that he has another pressing question.

“Um, I have to ask you一” Will hums in question. “Do you want to tell the party? About us?”

Yes, there is that dumb little fear in the back of his mind that maybe he’s speeding through things, but he’s realized over the past few days that maybe these things have been a long time coming. Plus, he really does not think he’s going to be able to hide things from their friends over the next few months. Lucas and Dustin don’t let anything get past them when it comes to Mike having a hopeless love life, as shown through the whole mixtape debacle.

Will pulls back so Mike can see his face. He’s wearing a small smile. “You want to?”

“I mean, El and Max basically already know, and Lucas and Dustin are so nosy一” Will snorts at his annoyance. “一and I don’t think they’d react badly, so I don’t know. It’d be nice. We don’t have to, of course, but if you wanted to一”

“Mike, I’d like that too,” Will pushes a piece of hair behind Mike’s ear一and side note, Mike is so glad that he kept growing out his hair, because that’s one of the best things he’s ever experienced. “I think they’d be cool with it, and I mean一when they were pestering me about the ‘chick’ I was into, I was already considering coming out to everyone.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I’d been thinking about it for a while, but I just got nervous because everyone was, like, staring at me and expecting something and一I don’t know,” Will scratches the back of his head. “When I told Max, it wasn’t some, like, big thing. It was after that one campaign一the one with the mimic, you know?” Mike nods. “The girls were having a sleepover, and I guess I was talking about something you did with the campaign, and El left the room, and Max was giving me a knowing look, and I just… Blurted out that I liked you.”

“As much as I want to make fun of you for gushing about me to Max一” Mike shakes his head. “God, I still can’t believe you told her first.”

“I thought, like, maybe her progressive Californian upbringing would include gay people!” Will grimaces. “And, she was cool about it, so clearly I was right.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mayfield’s cool sometimes, I guess,” Mike waves him off. Of course Max would be fine with it. Even though she’d rather die than to admit it out loud, she does really want everyone in the party to be happy, even Mike. “So, we’ll tell them all soon?”

Will pulls him back in, and the familiar feeling of their lips on each other does all the talking for him.

Dustin, bless his heart, ends up choosing The Outsiders as their first movie of the night. He says he still feels guilty about missing their group movie night when the rest of the party had watched it. Mike could tell Lucas wanted to fight Dustin on it, but held his tongue solely because it’s technically Dustin’s celebration.

Mike remembers how much they all cried at the end, even Max who violently denied ever doing any such thing.

“Fuck that movie,” Lucas had sniffled, hiding his teary eyes behind his hands. “It was so good.”

Yeah, Mike knows it well. He’s watched The Outsiders far too many times, and it’s always been great, but at the moment, he’s having a bit of trouble focusing. Even when Dustin and Lucas sit on their makeshift bed on the floor, scarfing down pizza, complaining about how irritating the Socs are, that’s not the distraction. It’s Will, not even two feet away from him, sitting on the same couch with that blessed mixtape in his pocket.

Like, Mike just got himself a boyfriend, literally an hour ago, and he’s still coming down from the absolute ecstatic bliss he was feeling because of that, but there’s still a tickling fear in the back of his mind. It’s dumb, right? He had that whole speech about not caring what people think, and that Mike knows who he is and blah, blah. It’s more complicated than that, obviously, since nothing is as simple as he would like it to be.

It’s just… Dustin and Lucas mean so much to him, and if they’re dickheads一not in just an annoying way, but in a bigoted way一then Mike’s going to lose too much hope in the world. Like, they can fight monsters together both physically and metaphorically, and play a game with a satanic reputation together against everyone’s judgment, and stick together as they were bullied for years, and all this other shit, but the end-all to their friendship could be Mike being gay? It feels unthinkable. Honestly, it’d all piss him off.

Lucas and Dustin have stuck around for some crazy shit. They stayed when Mike hid a random girl in his basement and they stayed when Will was throwing up slugs. They stayed when Mike was being an absolute asshole and freaking out about growing up and convincing everyone that dating girls meant everything. Lucas tells him, like, every day that he’s there if Mike ever wants to talk一and he knows that Lucas started telling everyone that out of fear of Vecna returning to take advantage of another one of their friends in silent crisis, but it’s nice to have the offer. Dustin fully ate up all that ‘forced conformity is killing the kids’ shit that Eddie would preach, and really, this is some very nonconformist shit, so hopefully that means something.

“I can’t believe I have to go through this fucking scene again,” Lucas grumbles, taking an angry bite out of his pizza.

“Stop whining! You’re the one who told me this movie was, quote, ‘peak cinema,’” Dustin does finger quotes awkwardly around his plate in one hand.

“Because it is!” Lucas retorts. “Just because it’s an amazing movie doesn’t mean I want to cry my eyes out every time I watch it!”

“Are you judging my choices, Sinclair?” Dustin asks pointedly. “If I remember correctly, you all told me that today I was allowed to choose any movie—without judgment from any of you dick一”

Will turns his head toward Mike, giving a tired look and tilting his chin toward their friends on the floor. Mike mimes a blabbering motion with his hand and rolls his eyes. Will snickers, and the two on the floor are too immersed in their argument to notice.

“Okay, am I the only one getting a vibe here?” Dustin comments through his bite of pizza.

“Dude, gross,” Mike kicks his back, mostly in a fit of pettiness. Oh, okay, so Dustin can talk with food in his mouth, but when Mike does it, then it’s gross? Eat shit, Dustin.

“Sorry,” Dustin, very insincerely, apologizes once he’s swallowed. He sticks a hand toward the screen pointedly. “But seriously, Johnny and Ponyboy!”

Lucas makes a confused hum. “What about them?”

“Dude, they’re like, obviously into each other,” Dustin argues. Mike can’t exactly place his tone of voice, though he doesn’t sound grossed out.

Mike and Will exchange a look, knowing that things would become awfully clear for them very quickly. Mike shifts awkwardly on the couch, their shared blanket rustling quietly with the movement.

"Isn't Ponyboy into Cherry though?"

"People can like both, Lucas. Remember Lord Rilitar?" Dustin rolls his eyes. Will makes a confused face at the mention. "Like, look at them! You can't say that's platonic."

No one could forget Lord Rilitar, an elven clan leader from one of their Hellfire campaigns in '86. As they’d made their way through the village, they kept meeting Rilitar’s wives, and then his husbands as well. They’d ended up meeting seven wives and three husbands that night. Eddie was having a field day, cackling behind his hands every time the party groaned at meeting yet another spouse of the clan leader and getting zero helpful information.

“Rilitar’s a man-whore,” Dustin had said as they piled into Steve’s car. Lucas nodded and agreed. That was that.

Well, no one except Mike could forget about Lord Rilitar. He, honestly, kind of forgot about that campaign until right now. It's like his brain forgot that it was something that other people also experienced, and not just an odd thought you have once and then repress for two years. God knows that he’s had a lot of those.

Lucas studies the TV for a few seconds, the two boys murmuring between themselves from where they sit side by side. When Lucas says nothing, Dustin keeps talking.

“I didn’t think they’d show it in the movie like this, but in the book it’s so obvious一Johnny literally says he ‘doesn’t like girls much at all.’ Look at them! Who cuddles with their platonic bro like that?”

It’s not his main focus at the moment, but Mike’s a little betrayed that Dustin’s read the book already and yet is still forcing them to rewatch this heartbreak-fest of a film. His main focus, of course, being Dustin’s improbable disgust toward gay people. Conclusion: increasingly improbable. Will update when more data has been collected.

“Oh my God,” Lucas blurts. “In the book, Ponyboy’s, like, always talking about how good looking Johnny is. Dude, you’re right! Did you guys realize this too?”

God, have all of Mike’s friends suddenly started a book club behind his back? He can’t even process that fact, since he realizes the question thrown at them. Will’s clearly caught off guard, eyes wide and unblinking for a moment. He seems to shake it off fast though, looking between the two of them on the floor.

“I mean, yeah,” Will shrugs, not elaborating further. Dustin gestures an arm out to Will and looks at Lucas with a ‘you see?’ expression.

Mike, decidedly, did not realize until tonight一and that’s definitely not because of his personal experience of having a close friend who he thought was very attractive and who he wanted to run away with and other such things. Not at all.

“There’s plausible deniability though,” Mike nods, because he has to defend his oblivion. “Most people wouldn’t see anything. You guys know how close-minded people are. Like, look at Hawkins. Most people don’t like… You know.”

Will stifles a laugh. “Gay people?”

“Yeah,” Mike’s mouth hangs open for a second, giving Will an alarmed look. He closes his jaw abruptly, and he can see Will biting his lip, most likely stifling another laugh.

Yes, Mike knows he’s acting suspicious, but just saying it feels incriminating. Like his friends will look over at the two of them and know that something’s up. It would be incredibly easy to just tell them right now. Just a bit of bravery. He could even just make a joke. Gay like Will and I! Isn’t that funny? God.

“It’s bullshit,” Lucas mutters, and Mike jerks his head to stare at him. “The guys on the team say shit all the time. I don’t get why they care so much.”

“Agreed,” Dustin mumbles through a bite of pizza. “But they’re also brainless jocks who have the mental capacity of a sunflower seed, so you really can’t expect一”

And then Lucas is throwing a pillow at Dustin, who just sputters. They bicker and bicker, and Lucas complains about him stereotyping all jocks, and Dustin complains about pizza sauce staining his new white t-shirt. They throw the pillow back and forth at each other, narrowly missing their plates of pizza every time. It’s normal.

Under the blanket, where Will’s hand rests pinky to pinky with Mike’s, Will hooks their fingers together. The contact is minimal so they can pull away easily, but they exchange a smile and they both know that if their friends noticed it, they wouldn’t have to. It’s relieving. Incredibly relieving.

It makes him feel a little braver than he was a few minutes ago. Mike lets go of Will’s pinky, only to take Will’s hand in his own and intertwine all of their fingers. Their hands rest clasped on the couch between them, and Will shakes his head with a rolling of his eyes. That toothy smile stays on his face, and Mike doesn’t kiss him even though he wants to. Instead, he reaches his free hand out and messes up Will’s hair just a little, enough to have him whine about it.

One might consider their intertwined hands a bad choice, since it makes things a little bit more complicated when he tries to reach for his soda which is on the end table just a little out of his reach. Mike would rather be a little inconvenienced instead of pulling his hand away from Will’s. He’s still fixing his hair absentmindedly and his cheeks are flushed as usual, and Mike has a suspicion that Will might enjoy it as much as he does.

At least Lucas and Dustin are enjoying the movie now that they’ve finished their impromptu pillow fight. The bickering remains, but that’s a given. Dustin eats his sixth slice of pizza, Lucas his fourth, and they both share comments about whatever’s happening on screen. Mike doesn’t pay much attention.

Dustin ends up crying at the end, to Lucas’s immense joy. Will points out that Lucas is also crying, and then Lucas points out that Will’s eyes are teary, and Mike’s the only one to come out unscathed. Not by willpower, but by pure distraction. All of his willpower had been concentrated into not kissing Will out of nowhere and thus giving their best friends the biggest surprise of their lives.

“It’s very healthy to cry, thank you very much,” Dustin snarks as he stands. He moves to rustle through his bag, wiping his eyes with his hand as he does so. He hums triumphantly when he finds what he was searching for. He holds the deck of cards up. “And it doesn't matter since you’ll all be crying when I kick your asses.”

The Great UNO Games of ‘86 have many delays. Lucas jumps to clear a space on the floor for them to set up, and Mike unwillingly pulls his hand away from Will’s. Dustin shuffles the cards in every extravagant way he can, and Will kicks him in the shin, telling him to hurry up. Mike spills his pop on the couch and the rest of his friends whine, saying they’ll start the game without him if he takes too long to clean it up.

When they finally start, every turn is interrupted by someone interjecting with a rule that no one else agrees with. Dustin says he gets to start, everyone argues with him saying the dealer never starts the game. Lucas complains that their hands shouldn’t be nine cards, but seven.

“Pick up until you can play,” Will insists. “The game’s always way too short if we don’t play that way.”

“You’re just saying that because it’s my turn,” Mike mutters, picking up card after card and receiving no reds or sixes. His hand goes from six to thirteen cards in one round. He smacks down a blue six on the stack. Will grins as Mike frowns at him, splaying his deck out in his hands.

“Come on, Mike. Don’t be a sore loser already.”

“You’re literally the sorest loser,” Mike bites, but Will just laughs at him. Mike wants to wrap him in his arms and squish him. He doesn’t, but his frown softens a little.

“Lucas, you can’t stack plus-twos and plus-fours!” Dustin complains.

“Yes, you can!” Lucas and Will chime at the same time.

“Lucas, you can’t stack plus-twos and plus-fours!” Lucas mocks under his breath. “We go over this every single damn time. Why are you even complaining? It’s not even your turn!”

“Yeah, it’s mine,” Mike mutters angrily, counting out ten cards and adding them to his deck.

In an unsurprising change of events, Lucas wins the first and second rounds. Will wins the third and fourth. Dustin wins the fifth round. Mike doesn’t win a single one. They let him choose their next movie as a consolation prize.

“Not Conan the Barbarian,” Dustin pleads. Mike glares at him. “Anything else is fair game.”

“I wasn’t even going to pick that, but now you’re tempting me,” Mike grabs the VHS just to make a show of it. Lucas complains too, but Will just shrugs at him. Mike puts it back and picks up The Terminator, holding the sleeve toward Dustin. “Good enough compromise for you?”

He flashes Mike two thumbs up. Mike starts the tape, and finds his place back on the couch, after making sure to turn the lights off once again. He pulls the blanket back over his lap, and Will’s hand immediately finds his underneath. Mike smiles at him in the dark, and Will fakes confusion, shrugging his shoulders and tilting his head to the side. Mike wrinkles his nose at the sight.

“Arnold Schwarzenegger is such a badass in this movie,” Dustin shakes his head. Mike’s not sure if he meant to speak aloud.

“He’s even more of a badass in Conan the Barbarian,” Mike insists.

Mike does end up making them watch both Conan movies by the end of the night. Dustin falls asleep on one of the chairs by the end of the second one. Lucas writes ‘LOSER’ on his forearm in thick lettering with a black Sharpie. He shows it off to Mike and Will and they all laugh. Eat it, Dustin. Justice is served.

Will falls asleep next, head falling back against the backrest of the couch. The movie still plays, and Lucas seems to watch it still semi-awake. Mike’s hand is still held in Will’s, and when he tries to pull away, Will’s fingers keep their place.

“I’m glad you and Will aren’t fighting anymore,” Lucas whispers, looking over his shoulder at Mike. “It was really weird for a while.”

“I told you we weren’t fighting,” Mike whispers back, though a bit louder than he means to. “I was…”

It’d be so easy to tell Lucas right now. It’d be easy to explain that Mike was running away from his feelings. He can’t explain that without telling the entire story though. It doesn’t feel fair to Will to take that moment away from him. Plus, Mike’s a little bit too scared to do it alone.

“Remember when I got grounded?” Mike asks, still keeping his voice low. Lucas hums. “I fought with my dad about school. He wanted me to do commerce in state.”

“Ew,” Lucas blurts. His eyes widen and he covers his mouth with his hand, probably to stop himself from laughing.

“No, that’s exactly what I thought too!” Mike shakes his head. “Well, whatever. I’ve figured some shit out and, uh, hopefully I’ll be doing English in New York next year.”

“No shit?”

“Completely serious,” Mike holds a hand up like he’s some kind of boy scout. “About that though. I’m thinking of having, like, a study group? I know Dustin took the SATs already, but I’m dying trying to get through that damn study guide I have and I think if the party all got together and whatever… you know?”

“Definitely,” Lucas agrees.

“I’m thinking of, like, next Wednesday maybe?” Mike shrugs. “It’s a rough plan, I haven’t worked everything out or told anyone yet.”

Lucas turns away and stays quiet for a moment. “I, uh, have a game on Wednesday.”

He’s reminded of Lucas waiting by Mike’s locker with his court shoes tied around the strap of his duffel. He thinks of Lucas carrying a Depeche Mode cassette in his backpack. He thinks of the smile on Lucas’s face all week after his most recent away game, not mentioning the outcome of the night, but Mike didn’t have to be a jock to read the room.

Mike runs his tongue over his teeth and swallows his pride. “We’ll do it another day then. Home game?”

It’s all worth it when Lucas jerks his head around with eyes as wide as saucers. They blink at each other for a moment. Mike raises his eyebrows and Lucas waves him off. “Sorry, yeah, it’s a home game.”

“I’ll come then,” Mike mentions, trying to make it seem casual. Lucas stares at him with such intense disbelief that all hope Mike had of playing it cool is immediately thrown out the window.

“I know we haven’t been…” Mike trails off and looks away for a second. “I know I haven’t been, like, your biggest cheerleader or whatever一” Lucas snickers. “一but I know basketball means a lot to you and shit, so you know. It’s about time I get my head out of my ass and show up.”

A small smile draws on Lucas’s face, but he looks away and licks his lips. “Man, shut up.”

Mike laughs so hard he worries about waking up Will and Dustin. He bites his tongue to stop himself from making any noise, but he shakes with laughter anyways. “What?”

“I don’t know what kind of emotional revelation you had that brought you here, but it’s weird,” Lucas mutters, a smile still on his face, but it’s wider now.

“I’ve been a bit of a dumbass the past few years,” Mike shrugs like that isn’t the understatement of the year. “This is gonna make no sense, but just… You said I could talk to you, so just hear me out, yeah?”

Lucas furrows his brow and nods. He spins himself around so he can face Mike, pulling his knees up so he can rest his arms against them. Will and Dustin both stay where they are, but Mike knows they could wake up at any moment. He’s okay with that.

“When you started basketball I thought it was like… your way of abandoning the party一” Lucas opens his mouth to argue. “一and I know you weren’t! It was all me.”

Mike lips his lips. He really didn’t think he’d be saying any of this today, but what better time than the present, right? Whatever. Ugh, he understands why Will hates it so much when people fuss over him. The sad look Lucas is giving him right now makes him want to crawl into a hole.

“I was just sad and insecure about a bunch of shit, and Will and El were gone, and it was easier to take out my anger on you than to think about why I was feeling that way,” Mike mushes the words together as he speaks, probably mumbling over some of them until they’re unintelligible. “It wasn’t cool. I mean, I still don’t love basketball or anything, but I shouldn’t have been acting like a sport killed my firstborn in front of my eyes, you know?”

Lucas laughs again, letting his head fall back and rubbing his face with his palms. Mike smiles and awkwardly pushes his hair behind his ears. He thinks he gets why that’s a cliche of a nervous tic in teen movies. Mike Wheeler’s succumbing to a big bad case of teenage rom-com protagonist.

“God, Wheeler,” Lucas mutters, leaning his head onto his knees. He groans and looks back up. “You’re such an idiot.

“Those are fighting words, Sinclair,” Mike warns lightly. Lucas rolls his eyes.

“Thank you,” Lucas looks at him while he says it. It’s said with a smile, and his eyes slightly glassy. Mike would hug him if his hand wasn’t still being held captive by his sleeping boyfriend.

“It’s whatever, I guess,” Mike sighs in faux-collectedness, looking away and scratching his head. Lucas kicks him in the shin.

“I’m going to bed,” Lucas stands as he says it. “Clearly you’ve already exhausted all ability of being serious for the day.”

“Tough luck.” Mike clicks his teeth.

Lucas flips him off as he flicks the bathroom light on. The door shuts with a quiet click, and Dustin sniffs from over on his chair. One leg is awkwardly sprawled over the armrest, and his neck is contorted sideways. Mike thinks he’s going to be complaining about how sore he is all day tomorrow. He considers waking him up, but then he feels his hand being squeezed.

“Everything good?” Will murmurs, voice hoarse and laced with sleep.

“My hand’s losing blood flow一” Will squeezes his hand tighter in retort and gives him an unimpressed look. “一but other than that, everything’s great.”

Mike glances back over at the bathroom door. He can hear the sink running, and Dustin’s snores are still relentless. He takes the chance, bringing his free hand to Will’s jaw to tilt his chin up, and presses a soft kiss to his lips.

“Sap,” Will mumbles. His eyes are half shut, and he’s close enough that Mike could count his eyelashes. Honestly, he’s almost gone enough to do it.

“Don’t fall asleep again on the couch,” Mike warns. “Move to the floor.”

Will groans, falling forward to rest his forehead on Mike’s shoulder. “Carry me.”

“Will, it’s literally a foot away.”

“Too bad,” Will sighs. “Guess I’ll just sleep on the couch then.”

“I’m reminding you of this next time I fall asleep on your couch and you won’t let me stay there.”

“Why would you sleep on my couch when you could just sleep in my room?” Will mutters into Mike’s shoulder, all the words muffling against his shirt.

Mike opens his mouth to argue, but falters. Oh my God, that’s something he doesn’t have to freak out about anymore一he may, however, have to worry again about Hopper killing him in his sleep. “You’re right.”

Will laughs sleepily. Mike wishes he could bottle up the sound and listen to it on repeat. “I always am.”

“Get on the floor, idiot,” Mike wraps his arm around Will’s back and attempts to gracefully pull him onto the pile of blankets and pillows they’ve arranged across the carpet. It’s not graceful at all. He falls onto Mike’s knees, and Mike sucks in a breath at the impact of hitting the ground.

Will’s head is still resting against his shoulder. The door to the bathroom is still closed. Dustin’s still snoring. Mike buries his nose in Will’s hair, and pulls him closer with the arm around his shoulder.

“Love you,” He whispers.

Will mumbles something into his shoulder, which Mike assumes must be a response. He laughs quietly, and moves to push Will onto the blanket pile on the floor. He falls over with a grunt, but no other complaints. He pries Will’s fingers off of his own, and shifts to pull the blanket off the couch. He offers it to Will with a hum, and with squinting eyes, Will takes it with a murmured thanks.

Mike sighs, deciding for once to be the bigger person. He slides himself over to the armchair, placing a hand on Dustin’s unmarked forearm and shaking him gently. “Dustin, wake up.”

It doesn’t take him long to come to consciousness. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“You’re gonna be so sore tomorrow if you sleep there, dude,” Mike releases his arm and moves back to his claimed spot on the blanket pile.

As soon as his head hits the pillow, he remembers that it might be a smart idea to brush his teeth, but everything hits him at once, and all he wants to do is sleep. He pulls one of the free blankets over him, and shifts around a bit, straightening out the blanket so his legs aren’t only half covered like Will beside him.

His eyes fall shut, and he hears the croaking of the leather arm chair, and the rustling of pillows. He feels a hand loosely finding his again, and he lets their fingers intertwine, his index finger resting loosely over Will’s palm and his thumb right over his pulse point.

He hears the creak of the bathroom door and the flicking of a light switch, and before he knows it, he’s falling asleep to the sound of pillows rustling and Dustin snoring and the feeling of a heartbeat under his thumb.

Everyone leaves by one the next day. Granted, they all wake up just before noon, and take their time getting out of their blanket pile on the ground. Will has to run off to work, Dustin has family plans, and apparently, Lucas promised to take Erica shopping. Lucas says he was blackmailed, and though Mike attempted to interrogate him, he was clearly much too ashamed to delve into any details.

With everyone gone and, for once, minimal things to worry about, he finishes up some homework in the afternoon. The world must be ending for real this time if he’s choosing to do schoolwork, he thinks.

Mike still bites his tongue over dinner that night. His dad makes a few comments about his friends being too loud last night and making a few comments about how he feels about them. His mom yells at his dad to cut it out, tutting and shaking her head. The one time Mike attempts to turn down one of his dad’s condescending comments, his mom still gives him a look over the table. Some things will never change, he supposes. It still puts him in a bit of a mood, sinking down into his chair with a sullen expression.

His mom asks him to help her with the dishes after dinner, and he complains at first, but she raises her eyebrows at him and he relents without another word. His dad’s snores roll in from the living room after only a few minutes.

It’s too quiet as they pass the dishes back and forth, washing and drying in monotony. His mom attempts to ask him a few dull questions; she asks how his friends are doing, asks if Dustin’s excited for college, asks if he’ll pick up Holly from ballet rehearsal tonight. He responds with few words to most of them, sometimes just shrugging.

It’s when he’s putting away the last few plates that she asks the question Mike’s been expecting all night. “How’s the essay coming along?”

The plates clank against each other as he sets them on top of the stack. “Good, I think. Mr. Paulson’s been helping me edit it and he’s had fewer changes to suggest.”

His mom hums pleasantly, and he sees her pulling all her jewelry back on. He has the chance to run. He knows she wouldn’t stop him. He blows a raspberry and leans back against the counter.

“About that,” Mike drawls. “Will and I are thinking of applying to schools together.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” She fully turns to face him, a small polished smile on her face. There’s lipstick on her teeth.

“I know he was always your favourite, mom,” Mike rolls his eyes. “You know I’m your actual son, right?”

She’s walking over to him, trying to wrap him in a hug, but he shifts over so she can only wrap an arm around his shoulders. She pinches his cheek like his nana did when he was still a little kid. It’s funny honestly, since he’s staring down at his mom by at least half a foot.

“You know Will’s practically family at this point,” She ruffles his hair, and he slouches in on himself to get away from her grasp.

“I didn’t hear an answer,” Mike mutters, messing with his hair to get it back in place.

His mom ignores his complaints. “I’m just glad that you won’t be alone when you’re away.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mike brushes her off, staring into the toaster to see his reflection. His bangs are completely messed up, a few pieces sticking up straight and the right side completely flattened out. He rakes his hands through to fix it as best as he can.

“I’m leaving, remember to pick up your sister at eight!” His mom calls, her shoes clicking against the kitchen tiles. He hears her yell Holly’s name up the stairs, and the door creaking open.

It’s right as he’s given up on his hair, turning to leave the room when the kitchen phone rings. His dad’s still snoring from over in the living room. Mike sighs and yanks the phone off the wall.

“Hello?” Mike answers, voice dull and uninterested, and still messing with his hair.

“How did your date go?” Nancy greets.

“What’s happened to ‘hi’ or ‘hello’ or even just a simple一”

“You’re not funny,” Nancy cuts him off. He doesn’t say anything back, so Nancy sighs before speaking again. “Hello, Mike. How did your date go?”

“Now was that so hard? You’ve really gotta learn一”

“I’m going to kill一”

“Okay, okay,” Mike relents. “It went very well, thank you for asking.”

“I’m glad,” Nancy says shortly. He can hear a tinge of a smile in her voice. She doesn’t even attempt to make fun of him this time, which is a bad idea on her part. Mike can’t let this opportunity go to waste.

“Aw, Nance,” He coos. “You’re going soft on me here. Do you maybe…” A fake gasp. “...miss me?”

He’s grinning like the Grinch, thinking that he’ll get a gagging sound and a complaint thrown back at him.

“Yeah, I do miss you,” Nancy sighs. Mike blinks, his smile falling off his face.

“What?”

“You know, you’re a huge pain in the ass and you steal my music all the time and you make fun of me for doing the most normal things,” Nancy’s voice gradually becomes more and more exasperated. “But you’re still my brother. Emerson can get lonely sometimes. Besides, I like making fun of you for being weird. Like when you eat eggs with一”

“They’re good together!” Mike whines. “No one trusts me on it.”

“Yeah, because it looks absolutely disgusting,” Nancy fake gags.

Mike jibes at her for being so boring and she just mocks him, putting on that dumb little voice that does not sound like him whatsoever. It hits him in the moment that this is the first time she’s called him since June.

“Mom’s worried about you,” Mike mentions, even though it’s completely out of nowhere. “She wishes you’d call more.”

“Mike,” Nancy says so softly Mike barely hears it. “You don’t have to worry about that. It’s not your job to fix my relationship with mom.”

“Well, then I think Holly would like it if you called more too,” Mike snarks, since he’s not admitting defeat.

To be fair, Holly does sometimes whine about how boring Mike is and how much she wishes Nancy was still home. He knows it’s usually a guilt trip to get him to take her for ice cream or to let her borrow his tapes or drive her to her friends’ houses. Sometimes he sees how much she means it though, and it doesn’t really hurt him. He understands where she’s coming from. Holly never liked him as much as she liked Nancy. He can’t really blame her for that either.

“Oh, now that’s just low,” Nancy scoffs. “Are you proud about using an eight-year-old to guilt trip me?”

“Yes,” Mike says pointedly. “Is it working?”

It’s silent for a few moments. Mike rolls his eyes. There’s his answer written out plainly. A big fat Y-E-S.

“You know,” Nancy drawls, obviously deflecting. “You never really said how that date went. I’m not sure this girl even exists.”

“We got dinner together. Hung out. I’m a taken man now. Not much else to say,” Mike breezes. His sister’s prying is almost worse than Dustin and Lucas, even though she’s just trying to get him flustered so he leaves her alone. It’s a strange back and forth they fall into. “Anyways, since we got that out of the way, you better start calling home more.”

“Okay, Jesus, what happened to conversation? What happened to sharing your joy with一”

“Nancy, I’m going to kill一”

“Oh, Jonathan?” Nancy cuts in. “Look at the time! I better go. Bye, Mike!”

And the end tone rings through before he can get a single word out. He rolls his eyes and hooks the phone back up haphazardly.

Technically, nothing physical in the world has shifted since Friday night. At least, no tectonic plates have suddenly thrown the earth off its orbit and flipped the two hemispheres of the world around. No new gates have opened up and formed a strong magnetic field in the middle of Hawkins (but that’s unfortunately always a possibility.)

Things just feel different in a way.

It’s funny, because nothing that happened this weekend was mind-bogglingly life changing, but Mike’s world still feels tilted on its axis. Clearly something’s up if he’s willingly decided to watch a basketball game. Not just that, but a live basketball game, in person, and close enough to see the hair-sprayed tangles in Randall Madden’s hair that he hides under that stupid camouflage hat.

Speaking of the Devil, Randall and his cronies一he’s promised Lucas that he won’t call the basketball team ‘mindless jocks’ anymore, but ‘cronies’ is fair game一are crowded around the stretch of lockers outside Mr Paulson’s room. To be fair, they’re never too confrontational unless Mike starts something first. It’s easy enough to brush past them on a usual day, but that’s not today.

Today, Lucas is there with them, and as soon as he spots Mike, he’s patting two of the guys on the shoulder and hurrying over to Mike. “Dude, wait up!”

“What’s up?” Mike awkwardly shifts his weight from foot to foot, feeling the stare of the basketball goons and three cheerleaders. He waves his stapled pages in the air as if that’d explain everything to Lucas. “I kinda gotta hurry.”

Yeah, so that’s maybe what’s making Mike feel like his world has twisted inside-out and flipped right side up. Sunday evening marked the momentous event of Mike Wheeler’s Finished Entrance Essay coming to life. An essay that he’s proud of in fact. Turns out, having a few heart-to-hearts on Friday night and then getting an uninterrupted ten hours of sleep on Saturday night had been a huge help in getting him to write like his life depended on it.

All he needs is Mr Paulson to affirm that it isn’t, in fact, a pile of hot garbage, and Mike will be on his merry little way.

“It’s nothing big, but I’ll be quick, yeah?” Lucas clasps his fists together in a plea. Mike sighs and gestures for him to go on. “Study group on Thursday? I have practice until four, but I’m free for the rest of the night. And, I already cleared it with Will and El already, and they’re down. Max said she’ll consider it, but I’m hopeful.”

Mike hums, considering. “And Dustin?”

“I haven’t seen him yet today, but really, what else would he be doing on Thursday?” Lucas gives him a tired look.

“Okay, calm it, cool guy,” Mike huffs.

Lucas rolls his eyes and waves him off. “When has Dustin ever blown off a chance to be a smart ass? Literally never.”

To be fair, if any of the party asked Mike to play Dig Dug at the arcade at any moment in time, Mike would drop everything to do so. In a way, Dustin’s Dig Dug is being a pretentious smart ass一and Mike means that in a nice way, of course. Dustin would, quite literally, ditch any plans if he could instead blabber on about nerd shit.

“Fine, you may be right about that,” Mike smirks, picturing Dustin as a tired old teacher angrily gesturing at a chalkboard. “Thursday is great. I’ll walkie you guys later about it.”

“Also,” He looks over at Lucas, who’s got his hands in his pockets and blowing a raspberry. Mike blinks at him blankly. Lucas is looking anywhere but at Mike. Not the time, Mike thinks. His grasp tightens on his essay, and he loosens it quickly, since he’d rather keep the papers crisp and smooth and professional.

“Spit it out, Lucas,” Mike sighs, waving the paper around again. “Places to be, people to see.”

“You should, uh,” Lucas clears his throat. “Invite your, uh一you know? Your girlfriend.”

Mike blinks. “To the study group?”

“Yeah!” Lucas nods enthusiastically, eyes wide and prying. “Or to my game! She doesn’t mind basketball, right? I mean, I don’t, like, know her or anything, obviously一It’s just an idea. Really, whoever you’re seeing, I’m sure she’s super cool, and she makes you happy, and we just wanna meet her. You get me?”

Now, Mike’s not stupid enough to tell Lucas一in a crowded hallway with the jockiest jocks to ever jock一that, no, his girlfriend isn’t coming to either of those things, but his boyfriend will be. So, he doesn’t tell him that. And, yes, Lucas is being just a little bit weird and twitchy, which Mike would normally question, but he’s a man with a plan, and he chooses to stick to it.

“She’s already going. To the game, I mean. So…” Mike blurts, probably a bit louder than he should have. “She’ll be there.”

Before Lucas can respond, Mike begins to walk past him. God, Mike needs to work on his social skills a little more.

“Okay! Awesome!” Lucas calls from behind him. “Call me later!”

Mike gives him a half-hearted wave in recognition, the papers in his hand flapping together. He doesn’t exactly run, or even jog, but he does hurry as fast as he can to get into Mr Paulson’s room. He knocks firmly on the door twice.

“Wheeler,” He greets from his desk, gesturing to him to come in. “I thought you’d finally kicked that tardiness habit, but I see you’re still working at it.”

“I’m a busy guy,” Mike shrugs, pulling up a chair. “People to see, autographs to sign. You know how it is.”

He holds the stapled papers out as he takes a seat, Mr Paulson taking them from him with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re in a good mood today,” He muses, flipping the cover page over. He looks up at Mike and waves the essay in the air. “Am I wrong to assume it has something to do with this?”

“Not wrong,” Mike shakes his head.

Mr Paulson smiles, but in that way that doesn’t look like a smile. It looks more like a grimace, but Mike knows what he means. “Let’s see what we’ve got here then, shall we?”

Mike keeps his mouth shut, and his hands intertwined on his lap. Mr Paulson purses his lips as he reads, and his glasses rest on the tip of his nose like he’s thirty years older than he is. He holds a yellow highlighter in one hand and waves it around as he reads, occasionally striping something on the page. He’d be intimidating if Mike didn’t think he was incredibly dorky. It’s like looking at an image of Dustin in twenty years.

That’s not to say that his heart isn’t currently sitting in the base of his throat, because it is. Every hum and grunt from Mr Paulson as he reads is another increment louder that Mike’s heart beats.

With the flipping of papers, and a thump as they land on his desk, Mr Paulson speaks again. “I don’t want to be presumptuous here, but I see you took mine and your friend’s words to heart.”

Mike nods once, eyes wide.

Mr Paulson clicks a pen, and writes a few things in the margins in the loopy way he does. It’s no wonder how his printing is so messy the way his hands flail around. He clicks the pen again, and holds the pages back out to Mike. When Mike takes them and begins to flip through, he hears a creak as Mr Paulson leans back in his chair.

“Where are you applying to?” He crosses his arms.

“Uh,” Mike says eloquently. It’s like the list he’s written on his notepad of yellow lined-paper has been completely erased. He counts on his fingers as he lists them. “IU, Purdue, CUNY, St. John’s, SCA, Pace. Um, and a few others too.”

Mr Paulson hums thoughtfully. “Then I wish you well in New York. I hope you’ll update me on where you decide.”

Mike thanks him as he stands, still flipping through the highlighted portions. Most of them are accompanied with a comment saying ‘no comma’ or ‘incorrect spelling’ or something else along those lines.

As Mike approaches the door, Mr Paulson calls his name. “Please remember to come to class on time tomorrow. Seven-thirty, you know.”

Mike shakes his head with a sigh, and turns back around. He hears Mr Paulson chuckling lowly as he leaves.

Mike keeps his word to Lucas, and when Wednesday night rolls around, he’s in his car outside Max’s trailer. She’s pulling herself into the backseat, and Mike’s folding up her chair to throw in the trunk. He offers her help getting in and she quips back with a comment saying she’d rather die again than take any help from Mike. He rolls his eyes.

Max refuses help nine out of ten times that she’s offered it. That tenth time, usually, is barely an offer. When they go out to a movie, she and Lucas sit away from most of the audience if possible, and he whispers an overdramatic play-by-play of the film to her, as she attempts to hide her entertained giggles. Mike is still shocked by that fact一Max Mayfield giggling! It started after they’d all said they’d wanted to see a movie, and then realized Max probably wouldn’t enjoy it, clambering to come up with a different group outing. She rolled her eyes at their hesitance and then told them they were being stupid.

The other nine times, however, end the same.

“My legs still work, idiots,” She snarks, usually stands up for a few moments, just to prove that she can, and then sits back down, albeit a bit wobbly. Lucas told him that her muscles had atrophied from all the months without use. Mike doesn’t exactly know what that word means, but he thinks he’s put it together from context.

(Mike Wheeler did not fail biology I. He passed with a C, thank you very much.)

“Do not make me listen to Bonnie Tyler or so help me Michael Wheeler, I’ll kill you myself,” Max speaks with such conviction that Mike has no doubt that she’d do exactly that.

“Jesus, you’re aggressive today,” Mike mutters

She kicks his seat. “You just bring out the murderous rage within me.”

Mike changes the station. He doesn’t have a death wish.

They’re pulling out of the trailer park and on the way to the Byers house when Max has had enough of complaining about every song Mike’s turned the radio to, and has instead shifted topics.

“So,” She trails off. Mike grips the steering wheel tightly, already knowing what he’s about to hear. “Mixtape, huh?”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Mayfield,” Mike sighs. He’s not exactly afraid of anything, since he knows Max knows about Will. He can’t see her being any different towards him, but who knows? He doesn’t know what he can and can’t lie about to her. Especially since he’s pretty sure that Max has her suspicions already.

“Jeez, you’re in a bad mood today,” She grumbles, eyebrows furrowing. “I wasn’t actually going to make fun of you, you know.”

“I find that incredibly hard to believe,” Mike retorts. He’s heard that from Lucas and Dustin before, and look where he is now. He’s been ratted out.

“God, you always assume the worst of me,” Max crinkles her nose. “I just wanted to say that… I know he really liked it.”

Mike stares at her from the rearview mirror. She’s fiddling with a loose thread on the seam of her shirt. “God, you and El really are in kahoots. I don’t like that.”

“I’m trying to be nice to you for once, Wheeler!”

Mike grunts, licking his lips nervously. It’s not a bone-chilling, ground-shaking revelation. He knew sooner or later one of their friends was going to put it together before they explicitly put it into words. The first to find out一aside from El, obviously, since she was literally there一being Max, quite honestly, is the best case scenario he could think of. He can only think of asking her one question.

“What gave it away?”

“You’re painfully obvious,” Max responds with no hesitation. Mike makes a pained noise in the back of his throat. “Seriously though, when El called me saying that ‘Will’ needed advice on getting over the ‘girl’ he liked… I thought maybe you finally crawled out of the pits of denial. If Will really wanted my advice, him and El would’ve just come over. And then, unsurprisingly, a few days later, El asks to borrow my tape player.”

“The mixtape just… confirmed your suspicions?”

“Yep,” She affirms. “Lucas would not stop going on about the ‘incriminating evidence’ he found. Saying shit like ‘he put ABBA and Whitney on there!’ It was hilarious honestly.”

As much as Mike can’t believe his best friend for ratting him out to his girlfriend, he fully can believe that. It’s Lucas, so he really can’t be that mad about it. That idiot was probably just so excited about his dearest best friend, who’s incredibly stubborn and heavily emotionally stunted, finally finding love. Mike huffs at the thought.

“And then, when I was over at the Byers’ yesterday, I may have heard ABBA coming from Will’s room. Dots connected. Theory confirmed.”

“I want to argue with you so bad right now,” Mike grumbles.

“But you can’t!” Max grins evilly in the rearview mirror.

“I’m flipping you off right now,” Mike tells her, holding his right hand up to flip the bird. Max cackles wildly at him. He presses his lips together so he doesn’t start laughing too. The radio starts playing a Wham! song and he leaves it on just to bother Max. She doesn’t complain.

“So, it’s, like…” Mike bites his cheek and trails off. “You’re cool with it then?”

“Will could do better than you,” Max muses, unimpressed, but the smirk growing on her lips gives her away.

“You know that’s not what I was asking, but thanks anyways,” Mike rolls his eyes. The smirk falls into full force across her face. They drive the rest of the way without speaking, and Mike’s okay with that.

They pick up the Byers; Eleven climbs into the backseat and Will drops into the passenger seat with a smile offered to Mike. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Mike smiles back, hands jittery on the wheel. Will’s hands rest in the pockets of his jacket, and the fabric stretches slightly over the expanse of his shoulders. Mike only lets his eyes linger for a few moments.

“Ew,” Max deadpans. “Don’t be gross.”

“You can’t even see us!” Mike complains, feeling his face flush. “We’re not doing anything!”

The girls in the back laugh loudly, Will’s face turning pink as well, and then they’re on their way to Dustin’s. Mike expected a lot more pushback getting Dustin to join them tonight. It, obviously, wasn’t just asking him to come.

(“I’ve watched basketball before, I just have a code of ethics that states that I don’t willingly spend time in the same room as guys like Randall Madden for more than twenty minute intervals,” Dustin lectured him.

“But you’ll spend time with Steve?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”)

It took a few minutes, but Dustin relented. He, of course, piles into the car with a complaint about Will getting the front seat.

“Mike, you should’ve brought your girlfriend tonight!” Dustin claps a hand on his shoulder from behind him. He hears someone snort, and if he has to guess, it’s probably Max. To his side, Will’s hiding his mouth behind his hand.

“She’ll be there,” Mike shrugs, biting his cheeks to prevent himself from laughing too. Dustin throws a bunch of excited questions at him, and Mike answers them very noncommittally. El, Will, Max and Dustin attempt to explain the rules of basketball to Mike, and he doesn’t really pay attention, but they’re all telling him different things anyways.

They’re sitting on the bleachers soon enough, and the announcer is calling names that Mike’s only vaguely heard before. Jocks are running in from the hall as their names are called, waving over at the stands who cheer wildly. One of the players blows kisses towards the cheerleaders which the stands ‘aww’ at. Mike rolls his eyes.

“Number three,” The announcer enunciates the words, slow and clear. The speakers send a ring of feedback through the gym, slightly fuzzy. “Lucas Sinclair.”

And in he runs, waving smally at the stands until his eyes land on the five of them at the front right end of the bleachers. Dustin cheers his name with a big wave of both hands. Lucas smiles, and Mike thinks he can see him laughing too. He blows a kiss to Max, Eleven whispers in her ear and Max just scoffs. A twitchy smile appears across her face, but Dustin and Will start making mocking kissy noises around her. She elbows both of them, and Mike has to assume Dustin was suckered right in the stomach due to the painful retching sound he makes.

Mike doesn’t understand the game. He doesn’t like how loud the gym gets. He doesn’t know what counts as a foul or how the penalty shots work, but he does know一as the last buzzer of the game rings out and a sweaty, smiling Lucas is lifted up by his teammates一that Mike isn't against learning a little bit.

And, as the crowd begins clearing out, Lucas runs over to the party, who stay in their place. He greets them all with a big grin and thanks them all. He presses a kiss to Max’s cheek, who pushes him away, but blushes darker than her hair. Dustin’s clapping Lucas on the back and congratulating him, and Will’s reenacting a shot that Lucas did, calling it by completely the wrong terminology based on Lucas’ laughter. In all the chaos, Lucas doesn’t once ask Mike about his girlfriend, and neither does Dustin. He’s glad, and not for the reason he’d earlier expected.

El and Dustin try to convince Lucas to let them carry him on their shoulders like his teammates were doing. His expression turns completely bewildered and he shakes his head wildly, attempting to explain why that would be a completely terrible idea.

He doesn’t get very far. They awkwardly lift him up, but as Lucas had predicted, their upper body strength fails them to get him high enough. They instead hold him up, one of his arms around each of their shoulders, and they lift him about two feet in the air. Dustin looks extremely proud of himself.

Out of nowhere, Lucas begins to lift up just ever so slowly, shifting backwards just far enough to sit on their shoulders.

“El!” Mike’s not sure who yells it.

Lucas looks absolutely thrilled, pulling his arms up into the Rocky pose. El wipes away a small stream of blood dripping from her nose, smiling as she does so.

Thursday passes in a blur.

Mike gets to all his classes on time, mainly because he fully woke up twenty minutes before his alarm went off and saw no reason to go back to sleep. He’s able to skirt by pretty easily since English is just answering a few essay prompts, math’s just an hour long lesson that he takes some shitty notes down for, and chemistry’s just a long movie about the characteristics of metals.

At lunch, Dustin and Lucas argue over the prospects of survival if the party were to get stranded on a deserted island. They’re both fully sticking by their original hypotheses, but Mike doesn’t pay enough attention to hear what they’re so confident about.

He does his best to pay attention in Spanish, because he can’t let it be the one failing grade that kicks his ass and tears up all chances of him getting into university. History, he spends the entirety passing notes to Will, who sends back just as many. As the final bell rings, they nearly run out of the room, out to Mike’s car.

“Do we really need to study this hard?” Will nervously laughs. “I’m sure the SATs aren’t even that bad.”

“We don’t have to tell them if you一”

“No, no, I want to,” Will deflates into his seat. “It’s just… Scary. You know?”

Mike exhales deeply, and pulls out of the parking lot. “Yeah.”

Now, after throwing all their things in the corner of the basement, Will sits on the couch with a faraway look in his eyes. He’s biting on his thumb, probably subconsciously, and his other hand’s tapping against the front pocket of his jeans.

“You look like you’re itching for a smoke,” Mike mentions, flipping through his backpack.

Will freezes and blinks a few times. He drops his thumb from his teeth, rubbing it on the fabric of his leg. “How’d you figure me out?”

“You taste like smoke sometimes,” Mike shrugs, standing up to walk over to the couch. Will’s looking away from him, and probably not at anything specific.

Will sighs. “I swear I don’t do it that often. Only when I’m stressed out.”

“Like when we went out to the lake?” Mike sits down beside him, smoothing down the crease in the sleeve of Will’s shirt. It’s meant to be a comforting gesture, but it’s also partially a lame gimmick for him to feel up Will’s arm. Sue him!

Will gives him an unimpressed look that tells Mike he knows what he’s playing at, but he rolls his eyes with a smile. Mike considers it a win. He lets his hand fall down Will’s arm and moves to take his hand in his own. “Don’t be mean. I was nervous.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Mike smiles. “But, uh, I realized before that.”

Will furrows his brow. “When?”

“When you saw me and El in the kitchen and I followed you to your room一” Will groans. “一there was a pack on your desk.”

“I should’ve hid them better. I wasn’t going to tell anyone. You know how the party worries,” Will gives Mike a pointed look. Mike gives him a cheeky grin and bats his eyelashes. Will shoves him. “I thought I could pawn off most of the smell onto my mom or Hop if anyone asked. I think my mom’s gone noseblind already. She doesn’t realize our house smells like a literal barbeque. El thinks it’s absolutely disgusting.”

“It’s homely,” Mike reasons. “You’re embracing the tortured artist thing already.”

Will smiles but looks away, clearly not wanting to let Mike know he finds him funny. “My mom and Hopper wouldn’t agree. Especially if Hop found out I was stealing his smokes.”

And, that picture一Will swiping half-empty packages of cigarettes from underneath the police chief’s nose一is so absolutely terrifying that Mike nearly shivers. Will is a much, much braver man than Mike is.

“I don’t want to encourage your bad habits,” Mike stands, pulling Will up by their intertwined hands. “But I’ll make an exception today. My parents aren’t home, so run out back. Make it quick, the party should be here soon.”

“You’re the best,” Will pulls him in for a quick kiss. “I’ll be back.”

“Miss you already!” Mike calls.

“Shut up!” Will’s words are muffled through the floor, and Mike cackles.

In the few minutes he’s alone, he’s pulling out their fold up chairs from the back closet, and setting them up around the table. If he’s honest with himself, they’ll probably just sprawl out all over the floor and couch, but he’s trying to convince himself that they’ll actually be productive today. It all starts with working at a table, and not against the armrest of the couch. If his predictions are correct, El and Max will show up first, and Dustin and Lucas will come second, probably together.

It was a bit of a task in itself to convince Max to come at all. They’d all piled back into Mike’s car after Lucas’s game and congratulating him on their win. Dustin was all in for the idea, promising to bring all of his study materials. El just nodded and said she’d be there, but Max didn’t say anything. She was extra quiet after they’d dropped Dustin off. El was asking her what was wrong, and she’d just shrug her off.

“Why should I go if you’re all just going to study for a test I have no chance of doing well on?” Max muttered when they were just a few streets away from the Byers’ house. “It’ll take me way longer than anyone else just to read the questions. I’m, like, destined to fail.”

“I will help you study,” El offered, placing a hand on Max’s forearm. It was obvious that Max was considering it, since it’s basically impossible to say no to El.

“Dustin’s already taken it, so he can help you too,” Will mentions offhandedly. "And they might be able to get you a teaching assistant or someone to help you take the exam?"

Max blows a raspberry, never one to admit she needs help. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”

Mike hadn’t asked her today if she was coming, since admittedly she does scare the shit out of him sometimes. She did ask a few questions about when everyone was coming, and Mike assumed the best case scenario.

He’s been trying to do that a lot; assume the best case scenario. As much as he’d love to live as a pessimist for the rest of his days, he has to admit that it’s quite depressing at times. Particularly right now, since he has a lot to lose if things do not follow the best case scenario. Again, he’s trying not to think about that. Maybe he should’ve bummed a cigarette.

Scratch that. Will would’ve just shot him an exhausted look and said something along the lines of: “Don’t copy me, I make bad decisions sometimes.” Plus, the fear of invoking Hopper’s wrath if he were to somehow come across the information that Mike Wheeler, of all people, is smoking his stolen cigarettes. Nope. Mike will not be picking up that habit.

Mike wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn them. It’s really hot in the basement today somehow. It’s almost October and he’s sweating buckets.

Okay, so if he stops assuming the best for a second一not to say he’s assuming the worst一maybe things will just be a little awkward for a while, right? He could handle that. Sure, it’s not ideal, but it’s not, like, an outright rejection. That’s bearable. Come summertime, they’ll be off to New York, and Dustin and Lucas will be off to their respective new states, and they’ll send letters and ignore the whole situation, and Mike will accept the unhappy medium.

No, no, he’s not going to think like that. Dustin and Lucas are his best friends, and they’re not idiotic bigots who’ll toss him and Will out of the party with the snap of their fingers.

Max and El seemed to think that their plan sounded good. Max didn’t insult him even once when they were talking about it. Obviously, nothing’s set in stone yet. If he or Will end up getting cold feet at the last moment, then oh well, whatever.

Except, it’s not just whatever, because Mike, against what many people seem to think, loves his best friends more than anything. The party is his lifeline, and always has been. He wants to tell them so badly. Dustin and Lucas, they’re annoying sometimes, and Dustin can be a bit of a smart ass, and Lucas can be a bit snarky, but it doesn’t matter, because that’s how Mike loves them. They’re the most dedicated people he’s ever met. Determined, and loyal to a fault. They’re both incredibly persistent and brave一braver than Mike’s ever been.

No, he doesn’t owe them anything一except maybe a few dollars at the arcade or a movie night decision一but he wants them to know. He doesn’t want to keep secrets from them. He doesn’t want to live in fear that, maybe, they’re not who he thought they were一because, right now, he thinks they’re the best people in the world.

He notices Will’s return when he hears bickering. In the stairwell, Will, El and Max are hobbling down together. Max is hissing something under her breath at the two of them, probably something about her being capable enough to walk down a flight of stairs without them getting on her ass about it. Mike’s not sure though if that’s what she said, but he thinks there’s about an eighty percent chance.

“You guys look scared,” El says, once she’s taken up the armchair.

“I’m never scared,” Mike scoffs, like a liar. Will elbows him in the stomach, albeit gently.

“We’re a little bit scared,” Will offers.

“I’ll beat them up if they say anything mean,” El nods at the two of them, and then begins to flip through her textbook. Offer hanging in the air as a promise, and not to be questioned. Mike snorts.

"If Lucas is a dick—which he usually is—but if he's a dick about this, I'll dump him on the spot," Max tells them with only the lightest evidence of a smirk on her face. Mike and Will smile awkwardly at her fierce, albeit strange, show of solidarity.

Though they could begin their studying, they just mess around for the next while; El and Max dig through the collection of cassettes in the basement, El holding one up every so often and telling Mike that she's taking it. He doesn't argue with her over any of them. They listen to a variety of random songs that El picks out, and Max comments on the ones she likes, and she doesn't say much about the ones she doesn't like.

It's four-twenty-six when Mike hears the signature banging on his front door that can only have one culprit.

When he opens the door, Dustin barges right in with two textbooks under his arm, and Lucas trailing behind him with another three in his arms.

"Dustin said we had to stop at the library," Lucas glares at the back of Dustin's head.

"Did you take the SATs, Lucas? Nay, did you get a 1590 on your SATs?" Dustin mocks. "No, you did not. Trust the master."

Lucas rolls his eyes, but they all descend into the basement as Dustin blabbers on.

"Mike, I've been badgering you into studying with me for months, and then, all of the sudden, I find out from Lucas that you want an SAT study group now? Not cool, man."

"If I joined your SAT study group, you would've told me I was cockblocking you."

"Would you have been?" Dustin gives him a look.

"Wha—Dustin!" Mike scoffs.

“Don’t look at me like that! You totally would’ve tried to embarrass me in front of the many babes lining up一”

“Many?”

“Dude! Is that so unbelievable?”

“Alright!” Lucas smacks a palm onto both of their foreheads. “Cut it out, dipshits. We’re here for a reason.”

“Right,” Mike says while keeping eye contact with Dustin, who’s currently giving him the most intense stink eye he can manage. Mike looks away after a beat, and awkwardly waves his hand around. “Anyways… Let’s, uh, get to it, I guess.”

He falls into one of the chairs at the table he’s set up. He hears the metal of the other chairs creaking around him, and soon enough he’s feeling a gentle hand resting just below the bend of his elbow.

“Should we…” Will whispers, leaning toward Mike, but not facing him fully.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mike nods, swallowing the lump in his throat.

In front of him, Dustin’s already methodically placing cue cards into their respective towers, keeping careful to not wrinkle any of the cards. Lucas is staring blankly at the textbook in front of him and asking Dustin (which is more like complaining to Dustin) about how much of the content he actually has to learn.

They’re such losers. Mike loves them.

“We have to tell you guys something.” It works to pull them out of their bickering, both looking over at him. Dustin looks suspicious, furrowing his eyebrow and continuing to mindlessly fidget with his cards. Lucas’ eyes dart back and forth between him and Will, and he interlocks his hands together and holds them in front of his lips.

“Go on,” Lucas nods.

Mike opens his mouth to speak, and all that comes out is a sound that could be interpreted as a cough. His friends continue to stare at him, Lucas growing increasingly jittery, and Dustin starting to lose interest in whatever Mike has to say. He switches from staring at Mike, and staring at his hands shuffling the cards.

“Okay, you know what?” Mike says. Will quirks an amused eyebrow at him.

Mike turns to face Will, and within a moment, he reaches his hands out to take Will’s face into his hands. He pulls them closer, and Will makes a surprised yelp as he slots their lips together. After a brief second, he feels a hand grasping at his shoulder, and Will laughing against his lips.

“Great strategy, Romeo,” Will murmurs after they pull apart. Mike flicks his forehead, and then interlocks their hands together.

Mike holds their hands up so their friends can see. “We’re dating. Have been for a few weeks.”

Lucas drops his hands from his face, showing a big grin. “That’s cool!”

Mike and Will exchange a small smile between themselves, and Mike squeezes their hands. Will squeezes back. All three of them stare over at Dustin whose jaw is slack and gaze is questioning. Mike raises an eyebrow at him and Lucas elbows him in the side. Dustin falls forward slightly from the impact, elbowing Lucas back, but straightening up after, resuming his thought process.

“That…” Dustin replies, eyes narrowed as he looks between them, but soon enough he blinks and offers them both a grin. “That… makes a lot of sense actually.”

Mike hears Will let out a breath from beside him, and they share a bigger smile this time. Mike turns to look at the girls on the couches behind them, and El offers two thumbs up and a big smile. Max has a slight smile on her face too, though she’s pulling her hair out from behind her ears to hide it.

“Dude, I told you he didn’t have a fucking nightmare,” Lucas mutters, kicking at Dustin’s ankle.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t offer up any other alternatives!” Dustin whisper-yells back.

“Because I thought you’d piece it together yourself, dickhead,” Lucas crosses his arms, falling back against his chair.

“What the hell are you two bickering about?” Mike frowns.

Lucas freezes and laughs nervously. He waves his hands, insisting to Mike that it’s nothing. He continues to give Lucas a hard glare, and he deflates with a: “Fine!”

“On Friday, like, really late in the night when I was coming to bed,” Lucas emphasizes by throwing his hands up. “You guys were holding hands, like, extremely obviously一”

Mike feels his face go warm, and when he looks over at Will, his face is a matching flushed red. Lucas doesn’t seem to see their embarrassment, since he just continues talking.

“一and Dustin thought that Will had a nightmare, but I was, like, dude, how the fuck would Mike have been the only one to notice?”

“It’s not that weird of an assumption to make!” Dustin whines. “We all get nightmares, man! Ergo, physical comfort一”

“You were the one saying that Ponyboy and Johnny were making goo-goo eyes at each other, and yet you draw the line at considering these two idiots doing the same?” Lucas sighs exasperatedly. “And you say you’re the observant one. Observant my ass, dude.”

“Okay, well, sorry that I wasn’t coming up with conspiracies about the love lives of our best friends in my downtime!” Dustin rolls his eyes.

“Wait, wait,” Will cuts in. “Lucas, you’ve known since Friday?”

“Yeah?”

“And you… didn’t ask us about it?”

“I thought you’d tell us eventually,” Lucas shrugs.

“Oh my god,” Mike blurts. “That’s why you were being weird the other day.”

Lucas looks sheepish, wincing and avoiding Mike’s gaze. “I just wanted you to know you could, like, talk to me, you know? And I didn’t want you getting all cagey and shit.”

And if that doesn’t just melt Mike’s little old permafrosted heart, there’s nothing in the world that could.

“You know, Lucas, Mister fifteen-ninety over there could learn a thing or two from一”

“I offer my services willingly, and you guys are making me seriously reconsider!”

“Bullshit! You’ve been begging us to study with you. We’re doing you a favor.”

Dustin grumbles under his breath, but he’s clearly not at all mad, a small glint of amusement playing in his eyes. “Let’s get this party started then, huh?”

Mike rolls his eyes. Will and Lucas let out matching groans of faux-annoyance. El and Max giggle from over on the couch. Dustin begins to order his highlighters and pens into specific piles on the table, and Lucas begins to slowly sneak the cards out of their towers when Dustin’s not paying attention. Mike watches as El floats them up and out of Lucas’ hands, creating her own pile on the coffee table in front of her and Max. Will stifles laughter behind his free hand when he and Mike make eye contact.

Will extends his foot out, and Mike lets him hook it around Mike’s ankle. The giggling from behind them settles into background noise. Mike loves it all. He loves them all.

“Guys, what the hell!” A louder bout of giggles.

Mike feels eleven, thirteen, seventeen all at the same time, and knows he’ll never forget the feeling.