Chapter Text
“I thought we agreed on ‘The Temple of Doom,’” Mike complains, dropping his backpack to the floor of Dustin’s room.
“Well, it was already checked out-”
“And we’ve got to watch ‘The Goonies’ for the fifth time,” Mike whines.
“I like ‘The Goonies,’” Will interjects.
Mike looks to Will. “We are the goonies. This movie is just our life, but dull.”
Will frowns. “I like ‘The Goonies’,” he repeats, just as Lucas chimes in: “We are not the goonies, dude. First of all, we’re cooler-”
Mike scoffs.
“Second of all, we have encountered interdimensional terrors. The goonies just find out they have weird neighbors and then get rich.”
“Wild oversimplification of the plot, Lucas,” Dustin says. Will nods along. As Mike watches Will engrossed in the conversation, his friends’ words get lost on their way to his ears. Look at how pretty Will is with the sunset fading behind him from Dustin’s window. How his skin shines, tawny from our days in the sun. How his hair alights: a gentle, golden fire amidst brown embers. How his throat bobs with each nod of his head. How his gaze finds mine across the room, and stares at me expectantly, and- wait-
“Right, Mike?” Dustin asks.
Mike’s face burns. “Uh- what? Sorry.”
“Geez, earth to Wheeler.”
Will looks suddenly shy, looking down.
“I was say-ying,” Dustin exaggerates, “that Will is looking really tan. Have you guys been going to the lake without us?”
Mike tries to keep a straight face. “I mean, we’ve been a couple times- why? You wanna join next time?”
“Uh, do we wanna go next time,” Lucas mocks. “Duh! Here we were, thinking you guys were on house arrest the way you’ve been MIA these past couple of weeks.”
“We haven’t been MIA-”
“Su-ure, Mike. Well, whenever you want to remember you have two pals other than Will, you just let us know.”
“I-” Mike starts, at a loss for words. They’ve noticed. They’re onto him.
“Geez, relax,” Dustin says, clapping Mike’s shoulder. It’s then that Mike realizes how tense he is. “We’re just messing with you. I know it’s easier to hang with Will, being that he lives with you guys now.”
Mike catches Will’s timid gaze.
“So,” Lucas says, “now that you’re finally here, thanks to Will, let’s get to the movie night! Dibs on the chips!” He heads toward the kitchen.
“How are you hungry,” Dustin asks, following him out of his room, “you ate almost a whole pizza!”
Lucas’ distant voice replies coolly, “it was three slices, Dustin, and yeah, I’m still hungry- I’m a growing boy-”
Mike looks to Will, who still clutches his backpack to his chest. “You okay?”
Will nods once, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Are you?”
The sunlight halo’s Will’s face. “I am. Sorry for ragging on ‘The Goonies.’”
Will chuckles. “It’s alright. We have watched it a lot.” He sets his bag on the floor, beside Mike’s. “Come on,” Will says, his hand brushing Mike’s fingers, lingering there for a moment. Mike watches as he leaves the room and wishes he could pull him close, kiss his hair, and breathe deep. Instead, he grabs the cologne out of his bag, spritzing a bit on his neck.
Mike walks into the kitchen, where Dustin tries to shoo his mom away.
“Let me bring you your snacks, baby, I’ll put them all on a tray-”
“Mom, we’ve got it, thank you.”
“Okay, but just remember to use the trays for your snacks-”
“Thank you, mom, got it- and can you take Tews?”
“Of course, baby, wouldn’t want him getting into the popcorn-”
“Exactly, you get me, thank you mom-” Dustin is gently pushing her down the hallway now, motioning for the boys to get the snacks.
“Oh, and not too loud, Dusty, I’m going to go to bed here soon-”
“I know, mom,”
“-just after I finish reading a chapter of my book, anyway-”
“Yeah-” They are at her bedroom door. “Love you, mom.” Dustin leans forward to kiss his mom’s cheek.
“Love you, too, Dusty-”
“Good night.”
She pats his cheek, then turns into her bedroom, their cat trailing happily by her feet.
When Dustin returns, the snacks are strewn about the floor, each boy having grabbed his own, and Will is placing the tape into the VCR player. Blankets and pillows cover the floor. They gave up using the couch years ago. Instead, they use it as a backrest. That way, they can all splay out as much as they want to. Tonight, Mike wishes they were squished on the couch again, close enough to feel Will’s warmth. Dustin grabs the trays and tucks himself in between Lucas and Will, handing out a tray to each boy.
“Wait, no drinks? Guys-”
“I’ll get them,” Mike offers, rising. He grabs cokes for Will and Lucas, and a root beer for himself and Dustin. As Mike walks back into the room, he hears the movie has begun.
He settles back into his seat beside Will and notes how tired he feels.
Dustin turns to Lucas, feigning a serious look. “Francis, it’s the lock. The lock, Francis.”
Lucas mimes the character’s movements on the screen and replies with the next line. “Let go of the handle.”
“I don’t have the handle. Open the lock!”
Will interjects with the next character’s line, “Jake, up!” and motions to their imaginary car’s sunroof.
“No-” Dustin starts.
“Come on,” Will continues, “move!”
“It’s open,” Lucas goads, gesturing upward.
On the screen, the character- Jake- climbs into the car through the sunroof. The three boys relax back into their seats, chuckling to themselves, pleased with their performance.
“Wow,” Mike says, looking sideways at the three of them, “we really have seen this movie too many times.”
Will nudges Mike with his elbow, sending a shock right through him. “You’re just mad you didn’t get a line,” Will teases.
“Don’t worry, you can have all of Mikey’s lines,” Lucas adds. Dustin stifles a laugh.
Mike rolls his eyes and settles into the couch, leaning slightly closer to Will, so their shoulders touch. Will stiffens a bit, then relaxes.
As the movie continues, the two boys continue to shift- reaching to grab a snack, taking a drink of soda, adjusting their blankets- but they always find their way back to each other. Some part of them always touching- whether it be their knees, shoulders, forearms, or thighs.
When Will gets up to use the restroom, Mike wants to follow; wants to tuck himself and Will into a corner and kiss him senseless; wants to hold him close and smell his hair, wants to run away and cuddle all night, wants to hold his hand; wants to feel Will’s hands on his body. Instead, Mike feels Will’s absence like a toothache, the seat beside him growing cold.
As the ship rounds the corner on the TV, Lucas jumps up, playing a hand-trumpet and marching in place. Dustin, laughing, joins his band, holding his hands up as if he played a flute. The two march in place, looking down at Will and Mike, raising their eyebrows as a way of asking to join in.
Mike watches as Will’s face breaks into a grin, and he can’t help but smile along with him. Will stands, beginning to drum in the air, just above his waist. Mike looks up at him, his smile wide and goofy now.
Will holds out his right hand to Mike, still drumming with his left. Mike shakes his head, feigning disinterest, holding up his hands. “No, no, I’m good, if I was in marching band I would triple my already sky-high nerd status.”
Will’s hand remains outstretched, much to Mike’s pleasure. More than anything, he wants to feel Will’s hand in his, even for a second. But he doesn’t want it to be obvious. He has to play it off. Will waves his hand in front of Mike’s face, now, urging him to join.
Mike finally relents, taking Will’s hand, groaning as he stands. Act cool. Act normal. Act like your skin isn’t absolutely buzzing at this minor touch. Mike takes a serious stance, one hand in front of his chest, holding a fake baton.
“To the ready!” Mike orders. “Band ten-hut!”
“Hut!” The others reply.
Mike leads them in a march around the room. Each boy plays their instrument in the air, using their mouths to make sorry excuses for music. After a few laps of their raucous noise, Lucas stops dead in his tracks.
“Alright, I’m tired of this. Who wants to play a board game?”
“Me!” The other three shout, excitement glittering in their eyes.
Later, around two in the morning, the house is quiet. Will has fallen asleep on his stomach, his head resting in a pile of arms and blankets. Mike sits next to him, telling a story with Lucas and Dustin in front of him. His dice are scattered among the blankets and there are a couple of minis positioned in the squares of one of Ms. Henderson’s quilts. Mike holds a flashlight under his chin, illuminating his face.
“Then- out of nowhere-” Mike gestures in front of him, theatrical. “An owlbear!”
Dustin’s face remains placid. Lucas yawns.
Mike frowns, trying again. “An owlbear!” This time his hands are more pronounced.
Dustin yawns now, hitting Lucas lightly with his hand. “Dude, you made me yawn.”
Lucas rolls his eyes. “Mike’s making me yawn. It’s almost dawn, can we go to bed now?”
Mike huffs. “We barely got into the campaign-”
“Will is literally asleep,” Dustin argues.
Mike looks down at him, smiling softly. How cute he looks, tangled up in blankets and folded into his arms. Wish I could fold him into my arms-
“Yeah, dude, we can continue next time. We’ve got all summer,” Lucas adds.
Mike groans. “Fine. Fine. Let’s go to bed.”
Lucas grins and hops up. “Dibs on the bathroom!”
As he leaves, Dustin and Mike are left with a sleeping Will. Dustin speaks into the quiet. “Cool campaign so far.”
Mike grins. “Thanks, man.”
“Sure.” A pause. “Hey, earlier, when I was digging on you for hanging out with Will?”
Mike tenses. “...Yeah?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a hard time. Suzie’s been pretty busy… I feel like we’re growing apart. Lucas is always with Max, which I get. And you’re always with Will, which again, I get. I’m just saying, I guess I’ve been kind of lonely this summer. So far, anyway.”
Mike softens. Though, he does note that Dustin compared him and Will to Lucas and Max…
Dustin continues. “Steve is great but he has a job. We can’t hang out during the daytime- my most lonely hours. So… I’ve kind of been left to my own devices. Which, don’t get me wrong, has been fun too. I started building another long distance walkie- just for fun, my old one I still use to talk with Suzie- and other random stuff like that… but anyway, maybe I’ve been feeling… just a little… left out?” Dustin pauses, glancing up at Mike.
He seems embarrassed to admit it.
“Hey, I get it. I’m sorry that we’ve been making you feel that way,” Mike says. “We should get back to meeting each week for the campaign. Maybe plan a couple trips to the pool and the arcade.”
“Yeah,” Dustin says, looking down to his hands, which are folded in his lap. Mike senses he has more to say. He waits.
When Dustin doesn’t speak, Mike does. “Anything… else on your mind lately?”
Eyes still downcast, Dustin sighs heavily. “Yeah. Eddie.”
Just hearing the name, Mike feels a deep, dense sadness swell inside of him. Eddie, who ran their campaign just a few months ago. Eddie, who took Dustin and himself under his wing when they started high school. Eddie, who defied expectations and made Mike feel like he could be himself. Eddie’s viscous laugh, his soft smile, his crude language, his kind eyes, his punk clothes, his incredible music taste, his wild hair: things that Mike admired and tried to emulate himself. Eddie, gone and without a goodbye to Mike, who was across the country when he made his last stand. Eddie, who died a hero, as if they lived in a fantasy world, saving his friends.
“Eddie was incredible. He was… unapologetic. Fierce. Loyal. Brave.” Mike says, almost in a trance. His gaze is nowhere; he’s picturing his friend. Wondering how he looked as the life drained out of him. If he died happy. If he died proud.
Dustin nods. “I just feel like- everyone just… moved on. So fast. But I’m still there. Still clinging to him, begging him to hold on to this life.”
Mike watches Dustin carefully. A tear slips down Dustin’s cheek, unbidden. “Sometimes I just think about him. How great he was. He was such a good friend to me- to us. And I think… I think I’m angry.”
Mike’s eyebrows raise, surprised. “Angry?”
“Yeah. I’m angry that he’s not here. I’m angry that everyone thinks he’s a killer. I’m angry that we can never tell the truth. I’m angry that no one seems to care. Not Lucas, not Steve, not-” Dustin glances up, nervous. When he speaks again, it is a whisper. “Not even you.”
Mike slumps. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been there for you.”
Dustin backtracks. “I know you care. I know you do- but it’s just-” he sighs, running his hand through his hair, clutching it at the base of his neck. “Even if I know, logically, that you care, I just feel… I feel so alone. Like I have no one to talk to about this. Suzie listens, but she doesn’t understand. She didn’t know him. Same thing with Lucas… he wasn’t as close to Eddie. Or maybe he’s just really closed off. Either way. But you? You were there with me all of freshman year. You knew Eddie like I did. He was there for you like he was there for me. And… maybe I guess… I’m just asking- if we could, like, talk about him sometimes? I think it would help me.”
Mike bobs his head, eyes wide. “Of course! Dustin, absolutely. I think… that would help me too.” He smiles weakly, meeting Dustin’s gaze. “I’m just- not very good in the talking-about-feelings department.”
Dustin barks a laugh. “You’re telling me.”
Mike’s eyebrow quirks, wondering what that meant.
“Anyway,” Dustin starts, “I’m going to get dressed for bed. I’ll be back in a few.” He stands, walking toward his room. At the base of the hallway, he pauses. “And Mike?”
Mike looks up, meeting his gaze.
Dustin smiles. “Thanks. For listening. Now and in the future.”
Mike smiles, nodding. “Anytime, man. Seriously.”
Dustin leaves. Mike hears water running in the bathroom. Lucas is still occupied. We have a few minutes…
Mike’s hand cups Will’s cheek, his heart melting at Will’s warmth. He leans down, brushing his lips against Will’s face, a kiss soft enough to avoid startling Will awake. He kisses the end of his eyebrow, the freckle above his mouth, and the base of his ear.
“William,” Mike sings, nuzzling into Will’s neck. Will grunts. Mike laughs quietly into his hair. “My love…”
“Hmnh?”
“We’re alone for a moment. We’ve gotta get ready for bed in a bit.”
Will stirs, shifting so that his chin leans on his forearms. “Mm,” he grunts again, unhappy to be woken. Mike can’t help but smile. Here is this boy, who he loves so much, grumpy and all flushed with sleep.
“You’re cute.”
Will’s head turns to face him, eyes still closed. This time, he hums happily. I love you.
“Who, me?”
Mike’s smile widens and a laugh escapes from him. “Yes, you. Cutie.” Mike taps Will’s foot with his own. “Can I get a goodnight kiss?” he whispers.
Will’s eyebrows furrow. “Mm- morning breath,” Will objects.
Mike frowns. “It’s still night. And I don’t care about that.”
“Time?” Will asks, yawning.
“It’s, like, 2 AM. I think you fell asleep around one.”
“AM. Morning.” Will splays his hands out in front of him, his point proven. His eyes are still closed. Mike continues to stare, shameless.
Footsteps. Mike shifts slightly, moving away from Will. Will’s eyes flutter open. God, even his eyelashes are perfect.
“Alright, Dusty-bun is brushing his teeth now, then you two are up. I’m taking the La-Z-Boy.”
Mike groans. “You get the La-Z-Boy every time!” He complains despite his giddiness at the possibility of falling asleep beside Will tonight.
“Yep, ‘cause I’m always ready for bed first. Rules are rules, Wheeler.”
“You literally ran to take the bathroom first. And you take forever in there.”
Lucas frowns. “I do not.”
“Dude, you took like ten minutes getting ready for bed. That’s an eternity.”
Lucas gestures to his face, smiling ear to ear. “I’ve got a routine to keep this beauty- well, beautiful.”
Mike rolls his eyes, turning away from Lucas as he settles into the chair. Mike stands, holding a hand out for Will. Will takes it, standing up slowly. “Ugh,” he mumbles. Mike wants to hold him up, wants to kiss those petal lips, brush his teeth for him, comb his hair- everything. He wants everything to do with Will. Forever.
Instead, he lets Will stand on his own, fingertips brushing his knuckles.
“Come on, zombie boy,” Mike chuckles.
Will half-heartedly punches his arm. “Mmn.”
They walk down the hall into Dustin’s bedroom. He sets Will on Dustin’s bed and gathers Will’s pyjamas, placing them in his lap. He grabs his own, closes the door, and changes. When he turns to face Will, he startles. Will is watching him intently, wide awake now. His face flushes. Did he just watch me change? Like… really watch?
Will’s face breaks into a sly smile. His pointer finger beckons Mike to come to him. Mike obeys, walking forward until he stands between Will’s knees. He places his hands on the nape of Will’s neck, at his hairline. His eyebrows raise in question. What do you want? Name it.
Will’s hands find the back of Mike’s thighs, holding him in place. Like I would ever leave. “Hey, you,” Will teases.
Mike forms a smile of his own. “Hey, cutie.”
“Come here,” Will whispers. He keeps his lips parted.
Mike leans down, hovering just above his open mouth, their warm breaths mixing. Then he stands suddenly, Will still leaning forward in anticipation. “Morning breath,” Mike explains, shrugging, lips pursed.
Will laughs, the sound making Mike’s heart soar. Will’s grip on his thighs tightens. “I said,” Will’s hands travel up, cupping Mike’s ass. “Come here.”
Mike’s breath hitches. Will looks up at him: sultry, inviting. More than anything, he wants to kiss Will. But it’s hard to tear his gaze away from his face, that look. Will runs his tongue across his teeth, its pink tip just barely grazing his upper lip. Holy fuck.
Mike leans down, angling Will’s head for a deep kiss. He kisses Will hard, stealing his breath away the moment their lips meet. It’s passionate, sudden, and Mike feels the excitement tremor through Will, his hands dropping back to his thighs to pull him closer.
I could kiss Will forever. I just want this.Will’s mouth on mine, Will’s hands all over me.
Mike is careening forward, losing his balance from pushing too far forward into Will’s embrace. He lowers himself to the ground, knees holding his weight, never breaking the kiss, hands lowering to Will’s hips. Will is now above him, and Mike feels giddy at the thought. Will’s hands run across his back. His tongue arcs along Mike’s lips, pushing into his mouth: strong, steady.
Mike whimpers. Will continues kissing him, encouraged by Mike’s soft, quiet moans and Mike’s firm grip on his waist. Mike isn’t sure why Will is suddenly okay with kissing secretly at their friend’s house, but he sure as hell isn’t going to ask. He doesn’t want to stop.
When they stop for air, Mike is panting, Will’s bite still humming on his lips. Mike looks up, and he must look greedy, because Will pulls him back in, hands in his hair now, kissing him breathless.
There’s a creak by the door, and Mike jumps up, terrified, heart pounding so hard it feels like it might pop out of his chest. Will remains on the bed, a dazed look on his face. Mike crosses the room and grabs his toothbrush, hoping no one walks in, because how could he ever explain the blush on his face, the swell of his lips, the bulge in his sweats?
There’s another creak, further down the hall, and Mike’s shoulders drop, instantly relieved. He looks back at Will, who stares at Mike seriously, lust still sitting on his shoulders, blurring his eyes. Will’s mouth hangs open, daring Mike to come back and finish what he started.
And Mike wants to. But the fear of being caught is ringing in his ears. His cowardice drives him out of Dustin’s room, into the bathroom, alone, shutting the door, splashing cold water on his face, beginning to hyperventilate. He brushes his teeth aggressively. A punishment for his actions.
A punishment? For his love? His pure, unbridled love for his best friend? Why does he deserve punishment for that? What the fuck is wrong with me? He remembers Will, the way he sat leisurely on the bed, waiting for Mike to return to him. Remembers his quiet, gentle love. Remembers his soft lips. Remembers his fingers running along his arm, feather-light. Remembers nights curled into his chest. Remembers swimming in the moonlight. Remembers Will’s fingers trailing the lines of constellations. Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. Mike spits, rinsing his toothbrush quickly, taking one last glance in the mirror, one hand reflexively rising to tousle his curls.
His hand is on the door handle. He’s tired of being ashamed. He wants to be unabashed in his love, for once. He rips it open, ready to march back into the room and take Will into his arms.
He stops, seeing Will right before him. Through his surprise, he sees Will’s look of determination, and he knows it’s over. Will takes one step toward Mike, and they fall into each other, Mike clumsily pulling Will into the bathroom and closing the door with a slight slam. Will laughs into Mike’s kisses. Mike pushes him against the sink counter, and Will gasps.
“Shh,” Will giggles.
Mike doesn’t laugh. He presses his mouth into Will’s collar, one hand tugging down on his shirt for better access. Will exhales, trying to steady his breathing, trying not to moan. Mike’s other hand grips Will’s hip, as if to hold him steady, as if Will would turn away from him right now. His hand wanders, fingertips dancing along the hem of his flannel pyjamas. Mike’s flannel pyjamas. God, they’re being so obvious, and Mike doesn’t fucking care. He does not care about that right now.
Mike’s mouth finds Will’s again, asking for more. I want your mouth. I want your tongue. I want your breath. I want your heart. I want you. Will obliges. Will bites on Mike’s bottom lip, dragging it along his teeth. Mike leans forward as Will pulls him back. He can’t let go. Can’t give up even an inch of this closeness. Will giggles again, drunk on sleep and Mike and lust and love.
Their hips are flush, and that still isn’t enough for Mike. He wraps his arms around Will, pulling him as close as he can while continuing the kiss. Their chests collide, hearts racing. I love you I love you I love you I love you.
Will pulls back, gasping for air, and Mike immediately drops his lips onto Will’s neck.
“Oh, fuck,” Will whispers against Mike’s ear, his breath close enough to send shivers down Mike’s spine. “Should we stop? I’m… I’m getting a little carried away.”
Me too.
Mike nips at Will’s ear, then grabs his face with both of his hands. He holds Will there for a moment, admiring his beauty. Then, Mike kisses his face, slowly, making his way along his cheek, over his nose, up to his forehead, down his nose, then his chin. Will smiles through it all.
“I really like you,” Mike breathes.
Will brings his hands to Mike’s wrists and closes his eyes, a tear making its way down his cheek. “I- I like- really fucking like you too.”
Mike laughs. He brings Will forward into a hug, his palm cradling Will’s head, fingers gently tracing circles in his hair, and feels his own tears fall on Will’s shoulders, a line of salt tracing the path from Mike’s soul to Will’s heart.