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Mike always kissed him in the dark. It was more romantic that way, according to him.
At first, Will thought that sounded nice. It made him feel grown up, and not in a bad way for once.
But any time he was with Mike in the light, it wasn’t that way at all. Mike always tried to avert his eyes, casting his gaze to the floor as if he was pretending to be somewhere else.
When Will gave his all, Mike gave half of that , and it hurt.
Joyce was calling him for breakfast now. The stairs creaked as he hustled down them, narrowly avoiding bumping into Ted , who was sure to give him a sour glare over his stack of hotcakes.
During meals, Will usually tried not to talk to Mike. Since the first time they had kissed during the power outage, Mike had requested that they didn’t talk in front of the others. It felt like a punch to the gut when he told Will that. Still, every night without fail, Mike would come to the basement and let his hands roam over Will. Kiss him like he was the only thing that mattered. For now, that would have to do.
Most days, despite their vow of silence, he would make an effort to at least smile at Will, but today he looked solemn and distracted.
Despite his better judgement, Will spoke up. He couldn’t stay quiet when he looked so… empty.
“Mike, are you okay?” He prompted, poking at his eggs, which were becoming sticky from the oozing syrup. Gross.
“I’m fine.” Mike snapped back, earning a scolding look from Karen. “Will, you know you don’t always have to check on me. You can leave me alone.”
“Michael, be nice to your friend.”
Friend. The word stung.
With that, Mike shoved his plate away and stood up from his chair. He avoided eye contact with Will as he stormed off to his room.
“Jesus, what is his problem?” Nancy questioned on the other end of the table, and Johnathan smiled at her.
The chatter of the Byer’s and Wheeler’s alike went in one ear and out the other. All Will could think of is what he could have done wrong. Was he moving too fast? But Mike had initiated things for the last week…
His stomach felt sick.
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Will tried to keep himself busy throughout the day. He re-sorted his dice collection, called El even though she was busy training, and he tried to paint- but without his muse, it was difficult.
At two O’clock, Will thought he was going mad from anxiety. What was Mike doing? What was he thinking? Had he changed his mind about liking him?
El once said that when she was restless, she would pace around and pretend she was somewhere else. Somewhere nice in her memories. But all of Will’s memories were about Mike.
By nine, Will felt like he was dying. He had made his way into the basement by now, and laid on his mattress with his eyes tightly shut. Well, for the most part.
Every few moments, his eyes would wander to the alarm clock by his makeshift bed. One minute passed, then five, then ten. Their meeting time was 8:45, right when Ted went to bed after the evening news program, and Mike was later than he had ever been.
He was mad at breakfast today, Will reminded himself. He should leave him alone.
Fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes.
Will sat up, mustering his strength. Clearly something was wrong. Sure, maybe he was being a bit overbearing, but that’s what lovers did, right?
Lovers. Were they even lovers?
That was it. They had to talk, or Will would never sleep.
Will felt as though his knees would buckle beneath his weight as he climbed up the stairs of the Wheeler household. He had done it so many times before, since he was a little kid, but this time had to be the scariest. What would Mike say? Would he yell at him? Say they should stop doing this, whatever this was?
He knocked on his door, hands shaking.
“Go away.” A voice called back through the door, and Will winced.
“Mike, please…”
Silence ensued for a few moments, until finally, the door cracked open. Will couldn’t see all of Mike’s face, just an angry, tired looking eye.
“Will. I told you not to talk to me in front of my parents.”
“I know, but-”
“They can’t know. We can’t…. We can’t.” He tried to sound bold, but his words had no real bite. In fact, his voice was breaking in a way Will hadn’t heard for awhile now.
He wasn’t angry, he was crying.
“Mike..” Will pleaded again, softer this time.
“Go.” Mike ordered.
So, he went.
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Three days passed without a word from Mike. He avoided Will at breakfast, in the hallways, and especially at night.
Will cried during the nights, and wondered if Mike was doing the same.
What had gone wrong? They were doing so good, and it seemed that the summer’s arguing and bitterness had finally subsided.
It hurt to be alone. It hurt and it was cold. This was the worst thing Will had ever experienced. Worse than the upside down, worse than possession, worse than Vecna.
He didn’t paint. He didn’t read his comics. He didn’t do anything.
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On the fourth day, Mike finally spoke. It was a small “Hi”, at dinner. He tried to crack a smile, but it was broken and awkward. Will wanted to smile, to say something, to beg Mike to come to the basement that night and hold him again- but he didn’t. Something about Mike’s demeanor stung even more than their silence. Did he have no idea how much he had hurt him? It didn’t seem like it.
So instead, Will went back to his room and sulked in the dark. It was pointless, it didn’t do anything at all , and it certainly didn’t help the growing pit in his stomach, but for some reason, he wanted to. It felt good, in a perverse kind of way.
At night, there was a knock at the door. Will felt his breath hitch, but he stayed quiet. It was his turn to do the ignoring now.
But Mike was insistent. He knew it was Mike before he even called out to him, because of the sound of his footsteps. He always shuffled awkwardly down the stairs, and the sound of his socks against wood produced a funny, almost comical sound. Will was tempted to laugh as he remembered a time when Mike fell down the stairs, but he stifled it.
“Will, Cmon… Can we talk?” Mike asked, and from his anxious tone Will could practically see him fidgeting with his sweater, pulling the threads until they were loose and unraveling.
“I thought we weren’t doing that.” He wanted his words to hurt. Needed them to. He needed Mike to ache the way he had for all that time, even if just for a moment.
“….Look… I’m sorry.” It felt oddly satisfying to hear. Mike wasn’t one for feelings, so it was a rare, fleeting occurrence. “I fucked up, I know, just.. please let me in. I miss you.”
Will felt himself fold in an instant. He couldn’t resist Mike, especially not when he was doing his sad voice like this. When he finally opened the door, Mike looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected him to listen. He shifted on his feet, and awkwardly extended his arms for a hug, before changing his mind and turning a bright shade of red.
As he suspected, Mike was fidgeting. He had been biting his nails, Will could tell. They were short and had jagged edges, a telltale sign of his anxious habit.
“Why is it so dark in here?”
Will shrugged. “I guess it reminded me of you.”
Mike paused for a moment, then set something down on the bedside table. He let out a cuss word, and even in the dark, Will knew he had bumped into it. This time he let himself laugh.
Mike leaned in, holding Will’s face in his hands like it was a precious jewel.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispered.
“You can’t see me.”
“I know you.”
He kissed him, hard and slow, bringing him impossibly closer. Will felt his heart flutter in his chest, and suddenly, everything was okay again.
Mike pulled away, breathless.
“I changed my mind. I want to see you. I’m done hiding in the dark.”
As Mike turned to get the light, the room suddenly illuminated. Then it went dark again. The lights were flickering.
Will felt scared for. moment, but when he went to touch his neck, no feeling came. This wasn’t Vecna. This was something else. An energy that wasn’t bad.
Both boys broke into smiles, and this time, Mike didn’t look away.
“Beautiful.”
He repeated, walking over to kiss him again.
Will didn’t notice the flowers he had brought until morning.