Archive of Our Own

Will, Will I need you to hear me, okay? Please listen to me.  

The light above Will’s head shines far too brightly until his vision adjusts, and he realises he’s not going to heaven just yet. The first thing he notices when he wakes up is the rickety wooden slats of the ceiling in Hopper’s cabin, the remnants of dusk peeking through. For a second, it feels like he’ll never be able to move a limb again. 

I know you think that you need to do this to save us, but that’s not it at all, okay? You—you save us by being alive, Will. That’s what you do. Do you think our lives would be meaningful if you weren’t here? We… we need you.

Shutting his eyes and opening them again, Will swears he can still see the red lightning behind them, flashing over and over like cracks in his vision. There’s no way to describe the feeling of such a weight, such a gloomy, hopeless nihilism that Will almost wants to scoff at, in a way. 

I…

Turning his head, he finds he has just enough energy to spot the cup of water on the nightstand, the bottle of medicine he’s not sure of, and the spool of bandages. Fuck , his leg. Will remembers it hurting, but he’d been too trapped in the moment to care about anything other than what horrors were happening in front of his eyes. So much death, so much—his head burns. Maybe that medicine is a good idea…if his hand could be bothered to reach for it. 

I need you. I’ve needed you. 

Blinking, Will feels that familiar warmth again. The same warmth he felt before, in the deepest pit of the Upside Down. At least, that’s what it had looked like. But he hadn’t really been there. Oh no. His arms were being gripped, not by vines, but by hands—hands out of sight, gentle but desperate. It doesn’t make much sense to him, his head pounding harder. 

It’s so stupid to think that I’ve waited until now to say it but—but I’ve always needed you. 

Will lays still, taking a deep breath and feeling how the air sits in his lungs. He casts his mind back, trying to remember how it all happened—the reason he’s now lying in bed, warm and safe, when a few moments ago he had sworn— 

No, wait. Mike’s face, tears streaking his skin a hot red. The aching of Will’s bones as he collapsed after the world blurred around him. The feeling of being so sure the world was ending. 

I’ve been so stupid, Will. I’ve turned away from things that made me happy because I thought that I—I could make it disappear. But I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see the truth. 

Had his mom grabbed him next? Or was it El, Jonathan, or maybe someone else? All he could make out in this swirl of memories was the scent of something familiar. It had smelled like home, and he swears he can still smell it now. He remembers burying his face into something just before his mind slipped away into nothingness.

Will’s energy shifts now, the last remnants of adrenaline coursing through his body, hands quivering. Slowly, he lifts one hand from beneath the layers of blankets to inspect it. His palm is wrapped in white bandages, slightly rusty at the edges. He wiggles his fingers and recalls why. 

He expects to feel that familiar sting of tears, but the energy that had exploded in his chest, his whole body, that had brought him back to reality, still lingers. 

Happiness. Relief. 

What I really mean to say, Will, is that I’m so—I’m in love with you.

Will had expected this all to return to him—the cause, the meaning, the reason his life still burns bright in the ashes of the aftermath. But even so, it aches. 

Please come back to me. Let me prove it to you . 

He’s not sure how, but the world seems to slow down. Was that real? It must have been, right? Will’s mind isn’t a reliable source; it hasn’t been for at least the past year. It’s shown him horrible things, commands, hopelessness. But this—this isn’t that. It’s everything but. It’s light. The very thing, the only thing, that could have worked. 

Had it really been Mike’s voice, or was that just what Will wanted to hear at that moment? Had those been Mike’s hands, holding Will so gently when he crashed down onto the ground? Had it been Mike’s sobbing? His chest? The smell of home? 

It’s not the cabin that smells like this. The cabin smells like old wood, fresh grass, and sometimes cigarette smoke. It smells like a home to someone, but not to Will. To him, home is something specific, something that no physical place could match. 

Though his body groans with effort, Will lies on his back, his vision now clear, feeling returning to his legs, head and fingers. His whole body has made its transition back to earth, it seems. And with it comes the magnetic pull to the thing that smells like familiarity, home, now seemingly just beside him. 

Will turns his head, and there he is. 

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. He shifts to get a better look at Mike, though not too abruptly that it would wake him, he quickly realises. It’s so different from the last time he saw Mike, the complete opposite of this peace, this soft tranquillity of Mike’s eyelashes resting on his upper cheek. His dark hair is splayed out on the pillow, clearly destined to be a mess when he wakes up. 

So that’s why the bed had been so cramped. 

Will’s heart does something he’s never quite felt before. It clenches, with a kind of desperation he’s become familiar with over the years, but it’s paired with a relief—a relief he’d die to feel again someday. 

Mike, lying next to him in his stupid X-Men pyjamas, can only mean one thing: Will has remembered it correctly. 

“You wanna…with him Mike?” Will caught the words between breaths, struggling for air. His lungs felt full of something. 

“...guess. I just need to…” Muffled voices were close to him, Mike being the nearest. So near, Will swore he could feel the vibrations. “Please let me stay with him,” Mike finally seemed to settle on. In that moment, Will felt himself smiling, at least inside.

If he remembers that correctly, then he remembers the rest correctly too. 

That’s when the warm sting of tears pricks behind Will’s eyes. He knows he’s alive, and he also knows that the only way he could possibly be alive right now is because Mike had…had given him the thing he wanted. The one thing he’s always wanted. 

It’s like holding a mythical jewel or fantasy treasure in your hands. There’s no way this can be real, yet here it is, right in front of him. Even though Will’s treasure is drooling a little, he’s still the most beautiful thing Will could have ever seen at this moment—just minutes after waking up. 

Resting his eyes for a moment, Will lets out a relieved sigh through his nose, the sound washing over them like a calming wave. He listens, a small smile on his face, for any signs of danger. Nothing can disturb this now. 

When Will opens his eyes again, he feels a rush of desperation surge through his veins as he watches Mike stir slightly in his sleep. It’s a reminder that this human, this wonderful human, feels just as much desire for him as he does. How is this even possible?

The sun slowly rises above the horizon, casting light through the roof's slats. The beams fall across Mike in soft, golden lines, illuminating him in a hazy, dreamlike aura, shining on his cheek, forehead, and hair. In awe, Will dares to reach out, just to touch this vision, to confirm that it’s real.

For a brief moment, fear flashes through him at the thought of Vecna tricking him again, making him believe that this beauty is out of reach, but—

Will’s finger lightly grazes the tip of Mike’s nose, and it’s the realest thing he’s felt all morning. He can’t help the breathy, quiet chuckle that escapes him. His eyes still burn with unshed tears, but he can bear it easily as he runs his fingers through Mike’s hair on the pillow imperceptibly. Soft, so real and so his . So Mike. 

For once in Will’s life, he wants Mike to see what he’s doing behind closed doors. How would he react now? Maybe it would be the same way he’s wanted to all his life, just like Will. The thought makes Will’s heart flutter. 

…let me prove it to you.

Maybe Will should let him. 

He glides his hand gently over Mike’s face, from the top of his head, down to rest softly on his cheek, pressing his palm in slowly. Will exhales at the warmth of his skin, carefully rubbing his thumb against the curve of Mike’s cheekbone. A funny feeling stirs in his stomach when the clarity of the moment hits him. He’s never done this before, not like this. It’s always been look, never touch. 

Mike’s eyelids begin to flutter open.

Will leans in closer, a cautious smile splitting his features, when a goddamn snore rumbles from Mike’s throat—proof of life. Just as Will thinks he’s about to meet his warm gaze, Mike scrunches up his face and buries it deeper into the pillow with a soft grunt. 

How could he get this lucky?—is all Will can think, despite the hilarity of the situation. He exhales a quiet laugh and shifts a little closer to the still-sleeping form, who has now shoved his face firmly into the pillow with a muffled groan. 

“Mike…” Will’s voice sounds strange after all this time, hoarse with both sleep and injury, making him cough. “Mike?” he whispers cautiously, but Mike only continues to rub his face into the pillow, his hair shifting around. 

Will rolls his eyes affectionately, hesitating before reaching out to softly place a hand on Mike’s back. “Hey,” he continues, “Mike? Michael.” He gently shakes his shoulder, wondering how the hell this boy can be such a deep sleeper after all the danger they’ve faced over the years. Oh well, he could get used to this. 

A thrill runs through him at the thought of it being something he might actually have the chance to get used to. 

The need for Mike to see him grows stronger, and this time, Will pokes a finger into his shoulder with a little pressure. “Hello? Mi—”

“Mm,” Mike hums, his voice croaky with exhaustion, muffled by the pillow until he turns his head away from Will. “Go ‘way Mom, ‘m not…” Will feels a grin tugging at his cheeks as Mike finishes his sentence and drifts back into a peaceful snore.

“Mike,” Will says, a little louder now, a laugh escaping him that would surely wake up anyone else. “It’s not—” he cuts himself off when Mike finally stirs properly, turning on his side to face Will. His eyes are still mostly closed, his face slackened with sleep. 

“It’s me,” Will says, his voice steady. Mike scrunches his nose in that adorably confused way of his, a small, soft noise escaping his lips as his hands reach out blindly under the covers, searching for who it is. Will’s heart tightens. Softening his tone, he repeats, “It’s me. It’s Will.”

Mike’s brown eyes finally peek out from behind half-closed eyelids, his brow knitting together into a desperate frown, a small crease forming between them. Will clenches with the familiar urge—the most predictable, overwhelming urge in his close position—to kiss the crease on his forehead. Maybe he could. Maybe he should . After all, he has no idea if Mike’s in pain. For all he knows, Mike could be injured—he’s been through so much. 

Then, Will sees it—a faint spark of recognition flickers across Mike’s face. His brain’s clearly working in slow motion, trying to catch up.  

“W–Will!” Mike exclaims, louder than expected, lifting his head slightly before wincing in pain. “Will,” he breathes again, reaching out with trembling hands to grasp Will’s arms. 

God, this rush of relief, the rush of love, might never fade. “Hi,” Will giggles, watching as Mike’s eyes blearily blink open, the light from the window glimmering in his pupils. 

“You’re—you’re awake,” Mike murmurs, his hands moving urgently, sliding up Will’s shoulders, feeling him to confirm he’s really there. The touch leaves warmth, and beneath it, an aching want. “Are you…are you okay, Will? Are you okay?” 

Will’s smile deepens, his gaze drifting to the imprint of the pillow on Mike’s cheek, indicating the deep, restful slumber he’s earned. Good, he deserves it. 

“Yeah,” Will sighs, nodding earnestly. How can someone look so beautiful right after waking up? Mike licks his lips, as if unsure of his next words. “I’m doing just fine,” Will reassures him.

Mike’s face splits into a teary grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. How could Will have ever gone ten years without this? Without this side of Mike, this openness? It seems impossible now that he’s seen it, especially when Mike’s eyes dart across his face as if searching for permission. Will senses the desperation radiating off him. 

He frowns, about to speak, until Mike interrupts, “Good, I thought—” He looks away and shakes his head, quickly wiping his face with the back of his hand before suddenly looking back at Will with a fierce intensity that catches him off guard. 

“How’s your leg? Does it hurt?” Mike asks, the same desperate look in his eyes. Will glances down at his leg, suddenly aware of the dull ache in his muscles, the slight, nagging pain in his bones. He hadn’t had the chance to think about it before. 

When Will hesitates, Mike’s voice becomes a whisper. “Will? Is it alright?”

“I think it’s okay,” Will replies, surprised at how much reassurance Mike needs. He glances down, and his heart clenches at the way Mike’s hand trembles where it clings to his forearm. “Did you…give me painkillers or something?”

“Yeah, you took some,” Mike answers quickly. Will frowns and cocks his head. “Do you not remember?”

Mike’s breathing is coming fast like he’s just done some light exercise. Will can almost hear his heartbeat—so loud, so frantic. They’re crammed into his small twin bed, and everything about this moment feels intense. The urge to calm Mike, to soothe the boy who’s sacrificed so much, is stronger than any pain Will might feel at this moment. 

Will gently rests his hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t remember much, but I’m alive,” he whispers. Mike’s eyes widen slightly, but he soon nods eagerly, waiting for more. “Breathe.”

Mike looks at him, questioning what that means, but Will lowers his gaze, takes a slow, deep breath, and exhales, guiding Mike to follow. “Breathe,” he repeats, slower this time. Mike jerks his head in a quick nod and follows Will’s lead, closing his eyes as he takes a shaky inhale and lets it out. Will shuts his eyes too, his face tingling from the warm breath that brushes over him.

In that quiet moment, Will swears he can feel the need coursing through his veins. No blood is left, just Mike’s words he hasn’t spoken flowing to his heart, his lungs, his brain—every part of him, their weight grounding him in a way he can’t explain. As Mike calms down, Will urges himself to stay steady, replaying the moment when he had felt solid ground beneath him again. When he’d been brought out of his vision.

“Will! …okay? It’s…’m here! I…you. I got you.” The words are muddled and messy, but real all the same. The memory of Mike’s raw and tangled voice makes Will wish the memory was clearer, more solid, something he could hold onto. 

Will blinks his eyes open and finds Mike doing the same, a shy smile playing at the corners of his lips, his gaze locking back with Will’s. Mike’s body relaxes into the blankets, his quiet presence soothing. Good. But now, it’s Will’s heart that’s racing, pounding wildly in his chest.

“Mike…” he begins, smiling as sincerely as he can, wishing he could do more than just trace his fingers across Mike’s face. “What you said. On the field.”

Mike stiffens. “Y—you remember that?”

“Of course I remember that,” Will lets out, his voice faltering. The lump in his throat threatens to break the steady tone he’s trying to hold onto—especially when Mike looks away, his eyes shimmering. Will needs him to look back. He needs Mike to see, to understand how much those words meant, how much he needed them. Not just then. Not just a few years ago—always. 

“You saved me.” Will dares to place his hand on Mike’s arm, under the sheets. Mike looks up with searching eyes, a mix of desperation and relief swirling behind them at Will’s words. Like they’re all he’s ever wanted to hear. 

“I saved you,” Mike breathes, gaze suddenly lowered, as if shy. “With…what I said?”

Will’s heart twists with affection again. He swears he’s never, ever , seen Mike like this before—so vulnerable, so unsure, so twitchy and cautious. He gives him a nod, the kind of nod that says Yeah! Yeah, you got it.  

“Mhm,” Will hums with a soft, earnest smile.

Mike’s breathing is shallow, shaky. All he seems to be able to do is nod, a faint tremble in his body. Will feels for him. He knows how terrifying this must be—Lord knows what it would have been like for Will, had he been the one to confess first. Especially now, watching Mike swallow hard, Will wants to rush in, lay out the whole truth of everything he’s felt, how long it’s been. He wants to pour his heart out, spill it all in cursive, loving words that would make Mike smile so wide, the room would glow with it. But even thinking about doing it that way makes Will want to cry. 

Damn his sensitive heart, the one thing always holding him back. He can already imagine it—tears slipping from his eyes before Mike can process them, Mike’s worry flashing across his face, his own tears following soon after. It’d be hard to articulate a mutual confession when all Will would be able to do is choke on his sobs. 

Closing his eyes, Will takes a slow, steadying breath, aware that Mike is watching. But when he catches Mike’s gaze again, he notices something else: the worry etched across Mike’s face, his brows furrowed in…defeat. Will almost catches it in his grip, opening his mouth to reassure him, but—

“I—I…” Mike stumbles over his words, licking his lips before blinking away, as if trying to push back whatever’s pressing on him. Will nods patiently, the urge to shift closer overwhelming. Mike’s warmth is so near, so irresistible. 

“Sorry about the…bed situation. I just thought that I would—I don’t know,” Mike mumbles, his voice uncertain. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone and be scared or something.”

Will’s heart lurches at that, a grin tugging at his lips, warmth flooding his skin. The sunlight filtering through the roof doesn't help, casting Mike in a soft ethereal glow. He looks almost angelic , his eyelashes kissed by the light, his hair glowing like strands of gold. 

“I wasn’t scared,” Will whispers, lowering his gaze. He falters for a beat, a lie catching in his throat. Technically, it’s not true. He remembers the visions of all the frantic voices belonging to the people he most cared about, all before he realised that he was safe in Hopper’s cabin. Safe, and not alone. 

“I mean…” Will rolls his eyes at himself. “I’m a little…” He pauses. For the first time since he’s woken up, he gives in to the pain that’s been clawing at him. The pounding in his skull, the throbbing ache in his leg. He winces, and Mike mirrors him. 

“A little in pain I guess,” Will chuckles, trying on a strained grin. Mike doesn’t return it, eyes darting all over him with concern. Fuck, Will should be more careful, his heart clenching at the realisation that Mike’s sudden vigilance is probably tied to more than just his physical discomfort.

“Hey,” Will whispers. His instincts kick in, his palm landing gently on Mike’s shoulder, a quiet reassurance. The touch sends a shiver through him, but he knows he has to stay composed, or they’ll both freak out. “I promise I’m okay. It’s just… I’m bound to be a little shaken after everything.”

Mike nods, and Will watches in slight glee as Mike’s eyes dart to his hand, lingering there before shifting back to his face. 

“Of—of course! You…” Mike’s expression shifts to something more solemn. “You can go back to sleep if you want. You should rest, Will.” 

Will knows, deep down, that sleep is exactly what he needs. His bones ache for it, even after the likely ten hours of sleep they’ve already had. He’s exhausted, mentally and physically, the weight of everything they’ve gone through pressing down on him. But the idea of rest seems so distant, almost impossible. He feels like he could sleep forever, for the rest of his life. But it probably won’t be the solution to all the feelings swirling in his mind, especially when Mike’s looking at him like that. 

That look.

Will swears he’s seen it before, the hesitation that lingers beneath the surface. Back then, he’d only ignored it, brushed it aside. But now that he knows, now that he’s fully aware of what Mike’s been carrying, it… it all makes sense. Everything is clearer, yet so much heavier.

How is he supposed to go on like this?

Will opens his mouth to speak, to address the unspoken subject of the day, but Mike beats him to it, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“And I should,” Mike falters, closing his eyes for a moment. “I should probably go.” He gives a sad little laugh, and it breaks Will’s heart in two. Shit , this is going terribly. How could Will be fucking this up so much?

In quiet desperation, Will reaches out before Mike can sit up on the bed. “Mike, wait—please. I don’t want you to.” Mike slowly lowers himself back down into bed, but it’s obvious that he’s now positioned further away from Will, despite the bed’s limited space. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Will breathes. 

Mike’s eyebrows knit together. “Oh. I don’t want to bother you with me sleeping here though—”

“Mike, I’m serious.”

His gentle approach to this issue, the careful dance, is clearly not working. Deep down, Will knows it’s to protect himself too, as well as Mike. He’s protecting the emotional distance he’s known for so long, the life of uncertainty and waiting he’s known for years . It would make no sense to anyone else. He can hear his mind questioning himself— Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? And he understands. It’s right. This is everything he’s ever wanted. 

But that’s the thing. This is the very thing he’s waited for since he met Mike. And yet, there’s a part of him that worries— What if I get this wrong?  

He can see it in Mike’s eyes too, the exact same feeling. 

Will opens his mouth and closes it again. “I don’t want to bother you. Not after…” 

After what? After confessing your feelings? After almost dying? After everything we’ve been through? 

Will takes a deep breath, letting it flow through him. “It’s okay,” he assures, keeping his voice low. For a moment, he thinks about touching Mike’s shoulder again. “I like it. If you weren’t here, I don’t think I would…fall asleep for ages.”

Mike blinks, his mouth falling slightly open. 

“Know what I mean?” Will asks, dropping his gaze and hoping that Mike gets the message. The intention of not just I like sleeping next to you , but something deeper: You make me feel safer than anyone. The only way I can achieve the peace of sleep is if I can feel you here with me. 

Mike lets out a not-so-subtle sigh of relief, giving a shallow nod. Will thinks he sees something flicker in his eyes, his head tilting to the side. “Y-yeah, um, I totally get that. I feel scared too.”

Will’s stomach lurches. Did he take it the wrong way? He opens his mouth, unsure of what he’s about to blurt out—

“I know this is probably selfish, but,” Mike murmurs, suddenly turning away to lie on his back. He starts to gnaw on his thumbnail before he continues and eases Will’s momentary discomfort. 

“I…I kind of needed to be next to…someone too.” 

His voice is shaky, the vulnerability in his tone unmistakable. Will feels like he’s looking at a reflection of his younger self, a version he barely recognises anymore. And it aches, the feeling settling over him, thick like honey, spreading over his head and washing him clean of the years gone by. The urge to reach out is overwhelming. If he has to endure this sweet torture much longer, he might combust. 

But again, Mike speaks first, his voice suddenly casual to cover up the rawness. “Sorry I’m such a,” he snorts, trying to defuse the tension. “Loud sleeper.” 

Will frowns for a second, not remembering Mike ever waking him up with his snoring. He must have been out cold. Of course, he remembers what had happened after he’d woken up. He’d heard the soft, quiet noises Mike made while sleeping, he remembers how they made his heart ache with affection. It didn’t annoy him, nothing about Mike could annoy him enough to leave. 

Will lets out a soft chuckle, looking down and shaking his head. “Well…I didn’t mind it.”

When he tilts his head up, Will finds Mike’s eyes fixed on him again. Mike is lying on his side now, suddenly rapt with attention, a silent question on his face. 

Does he know? He knows that I know, right? Or… does he not? God, this is both maddening and sweet and comforting all at once. 

“What do you mean?” Mike asks gently, his tone as if he already knows the answer, but just needs the confirmation. 

“Well I think it’s a nice sound,” Will says, his mouth drier than a desert, going against every instinct he’s learned over the years and locking eyes with Mike. He takes a deep breath, hoping it’s subtle, before a small smile grows on his face. 

“It’s kinda cute.” Well, more than cute. Way more. Will waits for a reaction, resisting the urge to look away spare he might die of anticipation. 

Mike’s eyes light up, his eyebrows raising in soft surprise, as though he’s never expected to hear anything like that, as if he has no idea what to do with that information. “Really?”

Will can’t help but giggle quietly. This is okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of here. It’s Mike, it’s always just been Mike—the guy who wants to sleep next to him because he’s afraid, and wants to feel safe, just as much as Will. Will keeps that in mind as he reaches out with shaky fingers, brushing Mike’s jaw. 

He jumps a little, but Will doesn’t let it deter him, remembering that he would probably do the same. 

“Yeah, it is,” he says. But it’s more than that. It’s more than Mike being cute without realising it. “It also lets me know you’re here,” he continues, voice gentle. “I like knowing you’re here.”

Will spots tears welling up in Mike’s eyes, a look of wonder and awe falling upon him, the likes of which he’d never dreamed of. Or rather, never thought meant anything other than friendship. Mike looks completely at a loss for words, so Will nods and offers his best sympathetic smile. It comes naturally, letting Mike’s breath warm his skin. His own eyes feel a little wet now, a common reaction to Mike’s emotion. He can’t help it. 

He wants to tell Mike it’s okay. It’s okay to feel like this. Will knows there can’t just be awe behind those tears; there are years of hurt there too. But the lump in his throat would probably make him sound like a dying cat if he even tried to speak. So Will slides his palm further up, resting his thumb on Mike’s cheekbone, soothingly rubbing back and forth. 

Mike’s eyes widen further, and his breath quickens.

“Will… do—” he stutters out, his voice barely audible. Will nods, encouraging him. “Do you…do you…”

The words seem stuck inside him, and Will can’t bear to see the pain in Mike’s eyes any longer. He’d heard that same pain before, in thick, sobbing gasps of desperation on the field, where he’d woken up in Mike’s arms after everything had happened. And though it’s quieter here, it’s the same distress. 

He just needs to do something , and whether it ruins everything or makes it right, Will doesn’t mind so much anymore. As long as Mike’s pain fades away. 

Before Mike can stutter out another unfinished question, Will leans forward, eyes catching Mike’s shaken gaze. 

“I want to kiss you,” he whispers. “Is that okay?”

Mike’s breath catches, his eyes blinking faster. But he nods. And for once, Will isn’t shocked. 

When they come together, like two magnets, it feels inevitable. It all makes sense now—why they had to run from each other for so long, why Will had to go through everything. It was so he could feel Mike’s warm lips press against his in such a tentative manner that, for once, Will feels like the bold one. But as soon as they touch, Mike seems to come alive, letting out a breath of air through his nose, as if all the relief he’s been holding onto pours out of him in thick waves, locking their lips further into place. Will then feels a hand on his face, sliding to the back of his neck as Mike’s lips move languidly. 

Jesus Christ. This has gotta be a dream. But Mike’s soft noises of pleasure say otherwise, with Will quick to reciprocate, the sound vibrating between them. He wants to laugh. This is ridiculous. This is Mike’s lips , his best friend in the whole wide world’s mouth against his, the boy he’s been looking at for ten years. Elation bubbles up in Will’s chest, and though he initially manages to suppress a chuckle at the absurdity of this situation, the feeling of Mike gently licking into his mouth weakens this ability. 

As it settles in that this is actually Mike doing all these mind-melting things—his fingers threading through Will’s hair—Will lets out a soft chuckle against his mouth. He feels Mike’s lips curve into a small smile, and that only spurs him on, a proper laugh spilling from his chest. Breaking the kiss, Will still craves the closeness, the warmth of Mike’s body, the feel of their skin against each other’s. Without thinking, he presses his forehead against Mike’s. 

“What?” Mike laughs lightly, but there’s a trace of uncertainty in his voice. Will quiets himself, exhaling a long, dreamy breath. 

“Sorry, I’m not laughing ‘cause…” Will trails off, lost in the haze of his emotions. Oh, he’s completely undone, melted away into a pool of sickeningly sweet feelings. “I’m laughing ‘cause…” He giggles again, and Mike exhales in response, the warmth of his breath wafting over Will’s face. 

Grounding himself, Will runs his fingers through the stray edges of Mike’s slightly grown-out hair—it’s just as soft as he imagined it would be. Then, out of the blue, Will feels Mike’s fingers gently combing through his hair, arm tucked around Will’s waist and warm up his back. It nearly breaks him, honestly making Will want to cry. He sniffles but manages to keep his dignity, his grin deepening. 

“Will,” Mike drawls, pressing his face closer as he whines. 

“It’s just funny,” Will says, his voice rising slightly but still soft, letting the moment settle in. At this, Mike pulls back a little, a questioning smile spread across his face as he tilts his head. 

“Funny?” 

Oh no, he thinks—shit. 

“I never thought this would happen, y’know? To me,” Will says carefully, feeling the ache in his cheeks from smiling. “To us.”

Mike raises his eyebrows and bobs his head, and Will notices his already red face growing an even fiercer crimson. He scrunches his mouth to the side in that cute little way he always does, and Will instantly fights the urge to kiss him again. 

“Yeah…” Mike laughs nervously, slightly curling in on himself, his hand in Will’s hair slowly slipping away. “I’ve really changed things, haven’t I?” 

Mike almost looks afraid, his face a mixture of confusion and the daze of being kissed senseless, his eyebrows knitted together with uncertainty. Will frowns—Mike should never feel nervous around him, no matter what. Especially now, when Will feels the exact same way, and just proved that with the kiss, surely.

“You?” Will responds, fighting the urge to touch his fingers to his lips—they’re still tingling. 

Mike avoids his gaze sheepishly and shrugs. “I mean,” he mumbles, “of course. I was kind of the one who…” Nervously, he glances back at Will, as if hoping he’ll say the words for him or understand without having to admit it aloud.  

Will frowns slightly, tilting his head. It's as though Mike still somehow doesn’t believe that Will feels the same way. Or maybe he thinks the only reason for the best (and only) kiss of Will’s life is the fault of Mike’s speech alone. Maybe his avoidance of a stressful, emotional scene is having the opposite effect, Will thinks. His heart drops at the sight of Mike chewing on his lip with worry. 

“You haven’t…changed much,” Will begins, unsure where this is heading. Gently, he carefully reaches out, brushing the backs of his knuckles against Mike’s skin. Automatically, his mind races—how could Mike ever be uncertain of his feelings? But then again, so was Will for a long time, despite all the signs screaming at him. 

Mike jumps slightly and red flushes his skin. 

“I’ve always,” Will’s breath catches in his throat, “been—in love. With you.” Some may call it an exaggeration, but it’s completely real to Will. 

Mike’s expression is unreadable. He’s the Mona Lisa—one moment, he looks completely happy, his face is flooded pink, his eyes gleaming with euphoria; the next, he looks almost confused, scared, dejected. Will feels himself shaking against him. 

“You…what?” 

For a moment, Will’s resolve almost breaks. His mind jumps to the places it’s most familiar with. What if this freaks Mike out? What if, despite his admission, Mike wants to take things slow? Or worse, he wants to leave things as they were? Or—

Will squeezes his eyes shut, shaking himself out of it. This is ridiculous. He’s being ridiculous, for reasons that he’s such a stranger to. He guesses he’ll have to get used to this change, though, after all this time. 

Taking another deep breath, Will opens his eyes and fixes onto a point in Mike’s eye, watching the glow of the sun flicker inside. He lets his mind take over.

“Mike,” he says softly, “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” The words send jolts of electricity flying through every part of his body, half of him fighting it, half of him relishing in it. 

Mike’s breath catches, leaving him in a strangled, trembling sort of way, eyes drifting over Will before he shifts closer. Will might’ve expected a reaction like this, but he didn’t anticipate Mike’s hand suddenly resting on Will’s chest, right over the middle, leaving him speechless. The air feels thick, alive with the unspoken.

Mike opens and closes his mouth, his hand shifting over Will’s chest through the fabric of his t-shirt, his lips quivering. “You—are you…?” 

Will frowns, waiting a beat, staying completely still. He’s not sure why he’s letting Mike settle his thoughts, but soon, it doesn’t matter. Mike’s hand is warm, and Will can feel the affection seeping through the material of his shirt, calming him. Eventually, it seems like something switches, and Mike lets out a quiet breath, his eyes softening as they meet Will’s face. 

“What’s wrong?” Will whispers, slowly drifting his hand to his chest, cautiously placing his palm over the back of Mike’s hand. 

Mike’s eyes flit around, a familiar furrow forming between his brows. “I just…needed to know this was real,” he breathes, a soft, self-deprecating chuckle escaping him. 

Will looks down at their hands, suddenly understanding what Mike had been searching for. What he wanted to feel. 

“You’re serious?” Mike asks, his voice pulling Will out of the lovestruck haze that the realisation threw him into. He lets the gentle tone wrap around him like a blanket. 

“What—who? Wait—how did you know…why?” Mike stammers, completely at a loss.

Despite everything, Will feels a laugh coming out. Then it rises, as the absurdity of the situation, the surreal, dream-like quality of his new reality dawns on him. 

When his laughter fades quickly, his gaze falls on Mike again, a smile stretching wide. “Okay, I guess I’ll answer those one at a time,” he teases lightly. Mike shrugs and grins wryly, looking like he’s about to explain himself, but Will is quick to beat him to it. 

“It was me telling you the truth,” Will says without a hint of malicious intent, leaning forward to gently take Mike’s hand off his heart, intertwining their fingers. A glint forms in his eye. “As for who it was, it was for you, Mike.”

Mike exhales a small laugh, shaking his head at himself. But Will softens, his voice growing more serious, gentler, squeezing the hand in his.

“I knew because…well, I didn’t know- know until I was a bit older, but I…” Will’s voice breaks and he swallows. “You’ve always been the person…” He doesn’t finish. Those simple words seem to capture it all. Mike is the person. The one he’s always clung to, drifted and gravitated toward like a magnet. 

“And as for why ? God.”

Mike’s stare intensifies, his eyes slowly welling up. The effort to hold steady almost breaks him. Will can feel Mike’s grip tightening on his hand, his thumb rubbing against the skin. 

“I guess, it’s just you, isn’t it?” Will’s voice cracks again, and he sniffles, fighting to keep it together. “How could I not—” His voice cracks completely, and he sniffs again, ready to wipe his eyes. He opens his mouth but, just as he had predicted earlier, his emotions betray him. Instead of a word, a sob escapes his lips. Fuck , he thinks, feeling a warm tear slide down the side of his face. He was supposed to stay calm for the both of them.

“Will, it’s okay,” Mike whispers, his voice equally broken. He shuffles closer, tucking his arm around Will’s waist, pressing his palm to his back and rubbing his fingers gently up and down. 

Will sniffles, resisting the overwhelming urge to bury his head in Mike’s chest, to breathe in his familiar scent and let it all go—the lies, the sacrifices, the weight of everything he’s carried. It can all be released now. 

“You knew back…then?” Mike asks tentatively, once Will’s quiet sobs start to subside. Will had barely noticed the presence of Mike’s other hand tracing his jawbone, but now it’s all he can feel. 

He lets Mike’s words sink in slowly. “I did, yeah,” he whispers. His heart breaks at the rapid blinking in Mike’s eyes, at the expression of quiet devastation that always appears when Mike is overwhelmed. 

“I’m so sorry, Mike,” Will breathes, slowly gliding a hand up his arm. If Mike’s been feeling all the same things that Will has all this time, alongside everything else he’s been through… Jesus . “I—I should have told you sooner.” 

“Will, hey—”

“I was a coward,” Will exclaims, feeling tears prick his eyes again as Mike shakes his head faintly, his eyes darting everywhere. Will rakes his gaze over the boy he loves, remembering Mike’s words—the most perfect words—leaving Will feeling both fuzzy and sick inside. 

“Not like you,” Will whispers, a sad smile tugging at his lips, thinking back to the way Mike must have looked when he’d admitted it—hair wind-swept, yet somehow still gorgeous, eyes wet with tears, if his broken voice had been any indication. Heroic and brave, as always. 

Mike deflates in front of him. “No. You’re not,” he states, his eyebrows furrowing in anguish as his grip loosens. “And I’m not… Well, I understand why you felt like you had to—” He takes a shaky breath, cutting himself off abruptly. “Hide from me.”

Will’s eyebrows shoot up, watching as Mike retreats again, glancing down with a deeply melancholic look on his face. 

Mike chews on his lip, his expression crumpling up with pain. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers brokenly. 

Blood running cold, Will frowns and leans forward. “ Mike .”

When Mike finally looks up, his eyes misted over, Will feels his body shiver with the realisation of what Mike’s apologising for. Does this mean…he’s felt it as long as Will has? That he thinks about their past moments as much as Will does?

Mike’s emotions spill over. “I’m s-sorry, I’m such an idiot,” he gasps out, and Will feels himself shiver in response. Instinctively, he reaches out, his hand brushing against Mike’s arm. The touch seems to be enough to snap Mike out of his downward spiral, and he looks at Will with wide, desperate eyes.

“Woah, hey…” Will breathes, glancing over Mike’s trembling form. This time, it’s his turn to shuffle closer, slowly overlapping one of his legs with Mike’s. This seems to bolster him for a moment, but his exterior quickly cracks again, marked by multiple tears leaking out.

“Will—” Mike’s voice is barely audible, his fingers grasping at Will’s shirt, pulling him in slightly as he sniffles, releasing quiet, anguished sounds. 

In an instant, Will understands what Mike wants, and he melts, feeling warmth behind his eyes again as he whispers, “It’s okay, come he—”

Mike needs little permission, cutting Will off as he screws his eyes shut and buries his face into Will’s shoulder, grappling onto his back for support as his body shakes with silent sobs. Will welcomes him gladly, but for a second, he has no idea what to do. His hands mindlessly settle on Mike’s back. He wonders if he should feel terrible, if he should feel guilty for relishing in the warmth of the hug. 

Mike says quietly, “You’ve loved me for so long.”

Will’s heart melts, and he squeezes Mike tighter, not realising how much he’d needed this until just now. The pressure of Mike’s body against his grounds him. “Yeah. Yeah, I have,” he reassures him, offering a small smile. 

“Fuck,” Mike whispers, his voice breaking into more quiet sobs. Will frowns, gently running his fingers through Mike’s hair, scratching his scalp softly. He waits. “I’m terrible. I’m so—I’m such a jerk.”

This seems to set Mike off completely. Deep, hurtful sobs wrack through his chest as if he’s been holding them in for years, waiting for someone to finally set them free. Will’s wide eyes stare into the distance, vision blurring. He holds on tighter, his stomach churning at the painful, wretched sounds Mike’s making.

“What…” Will whispers, shaking his head. How could Mike ever think he’s terrible? It’s incomprehensible. There must be something he’s not telling him, there has to be. “What are you talking about, Mike?” he asks, finally, his voice caring as he whispers it in Mike’s ear. 

“Mm—” Mike tries, sniffling. “I’ve said—done awful things to you. I’ve been awful.”

Will shakes his head, suddenly pulling back to face a tear-stricken Mike, whose eyes widen at the end of the hug. “Don’t say that,” he says sternly. He watches as Mike’s eyes grow even larger, and he weakens, softening his voice. “I love you, okay? I do.”

Mike takes a shaky breath, his eyes red and bloodshot, then looks down. 

How is this not working? Will reaches out, placing a firm but soothing hand on the back of Mike’s neck. He opens his mouth, then stops. Wait—why hadn’t he thought of this before? His recall of events has been patchy as of late. Is Mike talking about… that? The five months of silence, the strangest summer of his life? The loss of the Mike he once knew, then his sudden return as soon as Vecna came back this year? Will had known there must’ve been a reason for it all, and he’d believed it had been him . Or, at least, Will had once believed that Mike knew about his feelings in some way, pulling away from him as an act of letting him down easy. But Mike had always been inconsistent on that front, too. 

And now Will knows it all, which means…what does that mean? Had this all been because of Mike’s feelings, or something? 

“Mike,” Will whispers, gently waking Mike from where he’d planted his face into Will’s chest. He lifts his head slowly, blinking rapidly. “You say you’ve been awful to me.” Mike nods somberly. “Why?”

Chewing on his lip, Mike looks to the side. “Because I’m the one who’s been a coward,” he says, slowly rubbing his fingers over Will’s arm. “I should never have treated you like that just because…” He sniffs, then shrugs and looks back down. 

Will nods, his lungs filling with warm, fresh air as a wave of relief sweeps over him, soothing the tightness in his chest. But it isn’t enough— not yet .

“You weren’t awful to me,” Will says softly, trying to catch Mike’s gaze. 

Mike shakes his head, wiping away some of the wetness on his face—a futile task. “What are you talking about, of course I—”

As soon as Will places his palm back on his cheek, Mike stops talking, cutting himself off with a small noise. “You were…awful to yourself .” 

Mike melts into the palm on his cheek, closing his eyes as one more tear escapes. He seems to feel the words so deeply that they pass through his whole body, making him shiver. His face is completely red, and Will just wants to hug him, forever and ever, if that would be enough to take away all this anguish that’s buried deep inside him. 

“You don’t deserve that. You never have,” Will finishes, hoping that when he begins to rub his thumb over the soft dip of Mike’s eye, he’ll look back up. Success. Mike gives the faintest of smiles, but his eyebrows are still furrowed in desperation.  

Will smiles at him, leaning down to brush their noses together. “I’m not gonna let you do that to yourself anymore. Okay?”

“But…why?” Mike questions, his voice breathy and quiet, tentative. “Even if I hated myself, even if you love me, that still doesn’t change that I’ve hurt you. I hurt you.” 

Swallowing hard, Will keeps his hold firm. He can already feel a lump in his throat forming at Mike’s self-deprecating words, but he attempts to strengthen himself. His body feels like it’s vibrating with need, and yet, so is Mike’s. 

“Oh, Mike,” he gives in, wrapping his arms around him again, tugging him close like before. He’s not sure whether Mike’s crying again, but he can feel him shaking in the same way as before. His t-shirt is wet with his tears, but he doesn’t mind. 

“Listen,” he murmurs, resting one hand in Mike’s hair, playing with the stray strands. “I know you don’t think so, but you’re a good person. You are. And you’re the most special person in the world to me. You’re my best friend, and…” He feels himself slipping into the emotional territory he’d sworn to avoid, but if it reassures Mike in any capacity, he’s ready for it. 

“...and I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he continues, his voice breaking. He swears he can feel Mike relaxing slowly, and this spurs Will on. “You’re smart, and brave, and passionate, and you’ve been like, my rock my whole life. I know you might see yourself as the scared kid who said mean things, who hurt people, but that’s not how I see you at all. You’ve always—always protected me, no matter how mad we were at each other. You’d always show up and fight with me when it mattered, right? That’s how I see you.” 

He’s surprised at himself. Hopefully, he’s made a coherent argument. Will waits for a response, but soon he realises he never had to wait. Mike relaxes, melting into his embrace, quietly crying and sniffing lightly, nuzzling his face deeper into the cosy space between Will’s chest and the mattress. 

Closing his eyes, Will says one more thing. “You believe me?”

A few seconds pass as Mike breathes deep, calming sighs. But when he nods, Will lets out his own sigh, a smile growing on his face. 

They lay like that, wrapped up in each other, for quite a while. Or maybe it’s just a few minutes—Will has no idea—but it doesn’t matter much. Mike gradually lets himself cool down, and honestly, Will thinks he’s gone to sleep. That’s okay. He very much deserves it, and Will is glad to gently comb his fingers through his hair for however long it takes. 

Well, that’s what he thinks until he hears a quiet voice say, “Will, did you know…” The rest of the sentence is unintelligible.

Will’s grin deepens. “What was that?” he asks. 

Mike untucks his head, revealing a messy mop of hair and slightly red-tinged eyes, though his face is completely dry. He gives Will probably the sweetest look he’s ever seen, and Will can hardly gaze for too long or he’ll keel over and die from how endearing it is. In fact, Mike looks a little…shy. As if Will has accidentally overheard something he wasn’t meant to. 

“Um,” Mike exhales a nervous laugh. “You smell nice.”

Will’s eyes widen slightly, remembering all his mental lamenting about the exact same thing, but concerning Mike instead. He lets out a genuine, bubbly laugh before letting his affections get the better of him and placing a kiss—or two—on Mike’s forehead, right where he’d been tempted to earlier. 

When he pulls away, he stays close, a smile splitting both their faces. “Thank you.” 

Mike sniffs. “Sorry, I—I got tears on your shirt.” 

“That’s okay, Mike,” Will says, looking into his eyes unguarded. He feels another giggle coming on, because wow—this is truly the best day of his life. 

“You’re my best friend.” 

Instantly, Mike smiles back, his dimples popping out and making him even more gorgeous somehow. Could this get any better? Will thinks, just as he leans closer, feeling Mike’s short breaths waft over his face as their noses brush the tiniest bit.

Mike cuts them off, just as Will feels the tingling of Mike’s bottom lip. “Wait—uh, this might be weird timing, I dunno…” He laughs at himself, and Will tilts his head. “You’re my best friend too, obviously, but…”

Will frowns for a second, but soon his face slowly lights up, a sly smile growing. “Yeah?”

“But I feel more than that…for you, y’know?”

Almost giggling, Will gently rests his hand on the side of Mike’s neck. “I think I know that, mhm.” 

“Right,” Mike laughs, “Um, I love being your best friend, it’s the best thing ever—” he mumbles quickly, almost unintelligible. “But I wanna be…” He gestures with his hands as if asking Will to finish for him. 

Will licks his lips and blinks up at Mike, wearing a knowing grin. “We can still be best friends as well,” he murmurs, shifting his face closer. 

Mike returns the grin, warmth emanating from his skin in a giddy haze. “As well,” he repeats. 

God, he’s cute. And he’s his—he’s always going to be his. Will breathes out a light breath. “As well as boyfriends?”

Suddenly, Mike rushes to close the gap between them, capturing Will’s lips in his own, locking them into place. Will lets out a surprised noise, then a quieter, softer one as his brain turns to mush. Mike’s going to liquify him. He’s going to turn him into a puddle of sweetness and giddiness if he’s not careful. 

When Mike pulls away, Will can’t open his eyes for a couple of seconds, in a daze. 

“You really want that?” Mike asks breathlessly, hope lacing his tone. 

Will snorts, letting himself lean forward and press his nose against Mike’s cheek. “Obviously,” he giggles, attempting to smooth the most stubborn parts of Mike’s messy hair. 

“Cool! Yeah,” Mike blurts out, leaning back with wide eyes and a wild look. "I want—I want that. Is that okay?”

Will rolls his eyes with affection, staring at the light refracting off of Mike’s eyes, hair and skin, illuminating him in a glow. “ Mike , I’ve told you. I love you.” He leans his forehead forward until it rests against his boyfriend’s. He feels a little short of breath. “I really, really do.”

“I love you more than—” Mike begins but Will won’t have that. He presses forward, bridging the tiny gap between them, kissing Mike once, twice, then a third time. 

“Rule number one to dating me,” he mumbles softly against his lips. “Don’t say you love me more than I love you.” Slowly, Will shifts downward to rest his face in the space Mike has made, his chest a soft wall of comfort. 

“Noted,” Mike says, placing a hand in Will’s hair, making him smile again. “But I was actually gonna say I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything, so.” 

Will takes a deep breath and blows it out loudly, a little laugh escaping. “If you keep saying things like that, I might explode.”

“Hm. Well, be ready for that,” he replies. 

Rolling his eyes one more time, Will shuts his eyes. “Fine, I will.” 

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he lets the warmth of the moment settle over him. The sound of Mike’s heartbeat is a quiet, steady rhythm beneath his ear, and for the first time in what feels like forever , Will is at peace. 

“Good,” Mike murmurs, his fingers threading through Will’s hair. This is home. “Because I plan on saying it a lot more. Make up for lost time.”

Will’s breath catches, but he doesn’t open his eyes. Instead, he just curls a little closer, tucking himself further into the space Mike has made for him. Silence ensues, the kind that doesn’t need to be broken, the kind that speaks louder than words. 

“Well,” Will finally says, his voice soft but steady, “as long as you’re ready for me to say things back just as much.”

Mike’s hand stills in his hair, and for a heartbeat, Will thinks maybe he’s said too much, but then laughter—quiet and genuine—fills the air. “Deal,” Mike says. 

In the quiet that follows, Will knows. It’s not just a promise.