Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mike wakes up to the sound of a plate clattering to the floor in the kitchen. Glancing at the night stand table, he sees it’s nearly eight in the morning. Groaning, he flips onto his back. He could never go back to bed after being woken up, and had hoped to sleep in. Their dnd session last night ended late, way later than intended, which was okay with Mike, but not his friends’ parents.

Mike listens to the voices clamoring below him. His sister, Holly, setting the table, his mom’s sarcastic tone no doubt meant for his father, and Joyce talking to Nancy. Then, finally, footsteps from the basement. Mike sits up, listening to see if it is Will’s footsteps or Jonathan’s. Will.

Mike stares at his closet, now, looking for what to wear. He chooses his clothes quickly and heads to the stairs, ruffling his hair on the way down. Will is standing in the kitchen, peeling an orange. Mike’s heart rate speeds up. Beautiful. Will looks up and catches Mike’s gaze, smiling back at him. Mike hadn’t realized he was grinning. He heads to the table to grab the coffee pot.

“Late night, Michael?” His mom teases.

“You could say that,” he replies with a sideward glance at Will, who stifles a laugh.

“I could hear you boys into the morning,” Ted complains. “Barely got a wink of sleep.”

That’s because you sleep on the couch, Mike wants to say. He chooses to spare his mom, this time. “Nancy was there too,” he says instead.

“Against my will,” Nancy protests.

“You played an important role!” Mike pours the coffee, spilling a few drops and burning his thumb. He brings his thumb up to his mouth, nursing his burn, and continues, “I’m so glad you came down from your princess tower to spend time with the plebians.” He hears Will snort.

Mike stands near Will while the rest of the family fights over breakfast.

“It was a really fun session with Nance,” Will admits.

“Yeah, it was, I’m glad she joined.” Mike pauses. “Hey, what are you up to today?”

“Hmm…” Will eats a slice of orange. “I was planning to solve world hunger and end all wars… nothing crazy. What about you?”

This banter has become normal for them. Mike has come to crave it. He takes a sip of coffee, savoring the look on Will’s face as he waits for an answer.

“Oh, cool, cool.” Mike nods. “I was going to do the world hunger thing, but I suppose you beat me to it… So I guess I have nothing going on today. Want to hang out after you’re done being a hero?”

Will’s eyebrows raise and he shrugs, as if to say only because I have nothing else to do. He places another piece of orange on his tongue. Mike watches the slice and imagines Will’s tongue on his. Would he taste of mandarins? Or licorice? Lucky charms? What would his tongue feel like on his neck? Curious and wandering? Steady? Rough? What Mike would do to feel Will’s warmth against him…

“Michael?”

He looks toward his mom, startled. The table is quiet; it’s clear that she had already asked him a question.

“Um, what was that?” Stop thinking of Will’s mouth. “Sorry, I was just thinking of ideas for the next session,” Mike lies, trying to play it off.

“It’s fine,” Karen states, though it definitely doesn’t sound fine, Mike notes. “I asked if you can help me today with some errands.”

“Oh, uh,” Mike sips his coffee. “Yeah, sure.”

He looks apologetically at Will.

“How about we meet at five?” Will suggests. Mike’s lips curve into a smile.

“Yeah. Five.” Mike’s hand grazes Will’s elbow as he passes by him to go back upstairs.

Mike doesn’t see Will’s face flush, nor does he notice Will’s smile lingering as he heads back to the basement to get dressed.

 

At the store, Karen walks with Mike towards a perfume section.

“I thought we were getting a present for Cath,” Mike states.

Karen nods. “Yeah, well, these perfumes might be a good gift… if I happen to find something I like, too, well, that would just be a bonus.”
As his mom samples some perfumes, Mike wanders through the aisle toward the men’s cologne. He smells one - mint and lemon - and cringes a bit. Another - bergamot and orange. That one is nice. He ends up spraying one on his neck- vertiver and cedar. Tapping the tops of the bottles, he catches sight of one that interests him. Musk? What kind of a name is that? He opens the top of the bottle, bringing it to his nose. It smells like Will. Like bed sheets and the bathroom after he showers. Like home.

He looks at the price just as Karen turns the corner to meet him.

“I’ve got vanilla brown sugar. What do you have?”

Mike turns the label to show his mom. She lifts the top and breathes in the scent. “Do you think I could get it?” Mike asks. “I don’t have any cologne at home.” Karen places the top back onto the bottle.

“I think that would be just fine,” says Karen.

Mike smiles. “Thanks.”

Karen nods, then pauses, as though she was going to say something else. Mike waits. “You know, Mike, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Another pause.

“Yeah?” Mike prods.

“Yeah… I’ve been wondering how you’re doing, now that the Byers have been living with us. It’s been a couple of months, and I thought things might change, but it seems they’re going to be with us for a while. I just want to know how you’re holding up.”

Mike hopes the flush on his face isn’t obvious. “Yeah, it’s okay. I mean, it’s crowded, but it’s… you know. It’s Will. I don’t mind.” What he doesn’t say: I love it, I get to see Will everyday, I don’t care that Jonathan and Joyce are there too, because none of that matters. I get to see Will everyday. In pajamas, after the shower, brushing his teeth, things I couldn’t see before. Things I could only hope to see for the rest of my life.

Karen smiles. “It’s okay to not be okay. I mean, our house doubled over night. You already had two siblings to share space with, and now-”

“I don’t mind. I like it. You know I always loved having people over.”

Karen nods once. “I know, Michael. I’m happy that you’re okay. Just… I wanted to say… I guess… well,” Karen’s sentence drops.

“What is it, mom?”

“Well I’ve just. I’ve-” Karen looks around her to make sure there’s no one else in the aisle. Then, in a quieter, softer voice, “I’ve noticed you spend a lot of time with Will-” Mike’s eyebrows shoot up. “Which is okay! I’ve just… well I’ve wondered…”

“You’ve wondered what?” Mike’s heart is racing.

“I’ve wondered at the nature of your relationship. Sometimes when you look at him, it just seems like… well, like there’s something there. I’m just curious.” Mike’s mind is spinning. Why would she bring this up in the perfume aisle? He wipes his sweaty palms along his shorts. Can I really trust her? Is it a trap? How many times had he thought of telling his mother the truth, only to stamp it down in fear?

Karen’s face softens a bit. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m just… I’m curious. I want you to know that you can talk to me, about anything.”

Tears begin forming in Mike’s eyes. He quickly faces away from her. It’s not that easy. He can’t just say it. Especially not out loud. Especially not here. How could she think it would be easy?

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know, if you want to, I’ll be there. I’ll listen.”

Mike tries to steady his shaking hands. He stuffs them in his shorts pockets. “Okay,” he says, when his voice is no longer quivering. “Got it.”

Karen places a hand on his shoulder. “Alright. I have to get some milk too, let’s head to the grocer’s next.”

 

On the drive home, Mike thought about cancelling his plans with Will. If his mom can see it, everyone must see it. If everyone sees it… well. Then it’s no longer safe. He can’t be around Will. But how is that possible? He turns the cologne bottle in his hand, remembering the scent, remembering Will and sleepovers and dnd and late night snacks and talks and sharing walkmans and a hundred other things that point toward Will like a north star. His mother hums along to the radio and Mike wonders if there is a world where he could love Will the way he wants to.

They get home around two in the afternoon. Heading upstairs, Mike weighs his options for tonight. He turns the handle to his room and finds Will there at his desk. Mike startles. Will wears sweatpants and a loose tee. He’s hunched over the desk drawing. His hair is a mess, and his socks are uneven. He’s beautiful.

“Hey,” Will says, without turning his head.

“Hey,” Mike parrots. He slowly shuts the door. Act cool. “What are you working on?” He walks toward the desk, placing his hands on the chair behind Will. As Mike leans over, he wishes he could plant kisses on his head, his hair, his neck.

God, Michael, get away from him. You’re only making this harder. But now that he’s here, he can smell Will’s shampoo and wants to memorize it.

“It’s a scene from the campaign last night. Here’s Dustin’s character distracting the vampire, and here’s Nancy’s character…” As Will continues, Mike studies the drawing. It’s a rough sketch now, but he knows Will’s skill and can tell how the picture will change with each additional detail. As Mike looks at the drawing, his mind begins to wander. Sitting like a weight in his pocket is his new perfume, which he can’t wait to use whenever he can’t be close to Will. It really smells like him. But he’s also considering cancelling their plans tonight, and wonders what difference that would really make. Why does he have to tip toe around this? It wasn’t like this with El. It shouldn’t be so… complicated with Will. But if Mike really thinks about it, Will was always more complicated than El. His feelings were obvious, but deep, complex, and hard to swallow. He’s just gotten around to accepting his feelings, and now his mom already notices and wants to know more? It’s possible she doesn’t know, but-

“Mike?” Will has turned to face him now, and Mike’s gaze drops for a second to Will’s lips. “What do you think of the perspective here?” Will turns back around, pointing to the page.

“I love it,” I love you.

“Yeah? I think I’ll give this one to Nance, as a kind of thank you for joining us last night.”

“She’d like that.” But I’d love it.

“Cool,” Will continues to draw. Mike retreats to his bed, sitting down and leaning back on to his forearms, so he can still see Will. Mike gazes at Will, noting the curvature of his back when he draws, the tap of his foot against the chair. His hair falling so perfectly around his face. “So, did you have an idea for our date tonight?”

“Huh?” Mike’s mouth hangs open. Our date? Does he…

“Our date tonight. Any ideas?”

Does he know?

“No, actually,” Mike starts, “Errands with my mom kept me pretty busy today.”

“Good,” Will says, still drawing. “I’ve got an idea.”

Mike’s eyebrows rise. Will has an idea for us… to go on a… a date? “Oh, yeah? Care to enlighten me?”

Mike’s heart races for the third time that day.

“No,” Will says, sly smile tugging on his lips, “it’s a secret.”

That’s it, then. Mike won’t cancel their plans tonight.

 

Will leaves Mike’s room around four in the evening, saying he needs to ‘get ready.’ Mike is left pondering by himself for an entire hour. The second Will closes the door, Mike opens the cologne and inhales deeply. He imagines another scene: he gets home, Will is drawing, Mike leans over him and nuzzles his face into the top of Will’s head, breathing. Mike kisses Will’s hair and pulls Will’s head back, kissing his way to the tip of his nose. Then, Mike brushes their noses together, Will humming happily. Mike’s hands on Will’s head and neck, feeling his warm skin pulse beneath him. Finally, a kiss on the lips. Electric and warm and sweet and hot all at once, Will reaches up to the back of Mike’s head, pulling on his hair. Mike breaks the kiss and moves to sit on Will’s lap. Will opens his legs to give Mike space to sit comfortably. Mike cups Will’s head with both hands, now, and leans in for another electric kiss.

Mike allows one more deep inhale of the scent, then rises to change. He picks a dark blue sweater, layering it with a tee underneath, a pair of dark jeans, and sneakers.

He heads downstairs to pack a snack and finds Will doing the same. “Hey,” Mike says, a grin forming at the sight of Will. Will wears a pair of light trousers, a tee, and a multi-colored jacket. His hair has been combed.

“Hey, Mike,” Will responds. Since Holly is seated at the kitchen table, Will leans close and whispers, “You can’t be in here. I’m prepping for tonight.”

“Oh, well,” Mike leans close to Will’s ear, “you never stated any rules.” Mike leans back away and catches sight of Will’s hushed chuckle. He pushes on Mike’s arm playfully.

“Yeah, well, I’m telling you now.” Leaning close again, Will whispers, “Go away.”

Mike steps back, arms raised in mock innocence. “As you wish.”

Will laughs again, turning away from Mike. “Go wait for me in your room.”

As you wish. Mike retreats back to his room, a giddy smile forming as soon as he closes the door.

Chapter Text

At five, Will knocks on Mike’s door. Mike gets up, checking the mirror one last time, fluffing his hair and pinching his cheeks. As they head downstairs, Mike catches his mom’s eye from the couch.

“Michael, we’re ordering in for dinner tonight. Do you want anything?”

“No, uh, Will and I are heading out for the night. We’ll be back later.”

Karen watches her son carefully. “Alright,” she says slowly. “Don’t stay out too late,” she adds, like a second thought. Ted grunts at the TV. Mike nods and opens the door.

“So, where are we headed?” Mike asks, allowing himself to relax. We’re out of her gaze.

“Does the word ‘secret’ mean nothing to you?” Will teases, tightening the straps on his backpack.

“Fine. I’ll follow you blindly, like a loyal puppy” Mike responds.

“Works great for me,” says Will. Mike swears he sees a smirk form on Will’s face.

They head out on their bikes, riding in comfortable silence. As the sun begins to set, they continue to ride. Finally, Mike starts to recognize the path.

“Are we heading to the lake?” Mike asks.

Will just looks at him, smiling, in response.

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit!” Mike protests.

“I told you I would pack for tonight,” Will says. “Just trust me. And keep biking. We need to make it before sunset.”

Although it is summer, not many people are at the lake. The crowd starts to thin around 5pm on a normal summer, and especially these days with the military presence. There’s not an official curfew, but it’s sort of an unspoken rule between most kids and parents. Will takes them to a far out shore, where there is a lot of brush that can act as privacy. Mike’s heart flutters at the thought of privacy with Will, true privacy.

They park their bikes against a tree and walk down to the shore line. Will’s hand brushes Mike’s, sending a shiver down his spine. Mike’s pinky twitches, and he tries to think of a good reason not to reach out and grab Will’s hand. What if Will rejects him? But Will has given him every sign that his feelings match his. He’s just scared. Scared of what taking a step toward Will would mean. If he begins to get close to Will in this way, he is afraid he will get sucked in, a star taken into a black hole. A small voice in his head asks, what’s so wrong with that? Mike reaches out in the shadow of the sinking sun, finding Will’s fingers and entwining them with his own. Sewing the two together. Mike hears Will inhale sharply, and for a moment, he panics, jerking his hand away. But Will stops, turning toward Mike, taking his hand back with both of his. Keeping eye contact, Will slowly laces their fingers together again. Not having to share words, Mike knows Will’s eyes are telling him it’s okay.

Mike’s heart thumps loudly in his ears, warming his whole face. Will brings his other hand toward Mike’s face and hovers for a moment before pressing it to his face. Without thinking of it, Mike leans into Will’s hand, closing his eyes.

How easy it is to be gentle and loving with Will. How easy it is to be loved by Will.

Will releases his hand from Mike’s cheek and guides Mike closer to the shore, pulling him by their intertwined hands.

“Mike, can you turn around now? I’m going to get set up.”

“Okay, sure,” Mike turns, happy to have an excuse to hide his blushing face. Will’s hand in my hand felt so… right. He gingerly fingers the hand Will had held, feeling the remnants of the electric shock Will gave him.

“Alright, ready.”

Mike turns towards Will. He has set up a blanket, a few snacks, and… scrap paper? To the side, he sees their bathing suits and two towels. Will gestures toward them. “Just in case you felt like swimming. I’m down for anything. I have other stuff to do if you don’t want to-”

Mike is already removing layers. “I’d love to swim.”

Will stares at Mike for a moment before turning, cheeks red, “Okay, cool, well. I’ll… here.” Will hands Mike his swimsuit. “I’ll just be. Over there.” Will grabs his suit and starts changing near a bush. Both boys change quickly and avoid looking at the other.

“I’m changed. Are you?” Mike asks.

“Just a sec,” Will says. “Okay. Yeah.”

They turn toward each other, both eyeing one another curiously. The two have gone swimming before. But this is different. This is more intimate. Intentional. This is Lovers Lake. Mike admires Will’s body, his perfectly cut hair, his freckle just above his mouth - the one he’s wanted to kiss for years now. Will is looking at Mike too, but he looks shy. His arms cover his stomach. He’s biting his lip. Mike walks toward him until they are just a step away from each other and places his palms on Will’s elbows.

“Hi there,” Mike whispers, light as the breeze.

“Hi, Mike.” Will takes a steadying breath, unfolding his arms and placing them on Mike’s. “Care for a swim?”

“Yes.”

The heat of the day has settled above the water. The sun has begun to set, so that most of the lake is shaded and secluded. Mike steps into the lake, inhaling at the sudden cold, looking to Will. Will stands the edge and tentatively dips his toes.

“Cold,” Will breathes.

“Yeah. Do you still want to swim? We don’t have to.”

Will looks at Mike, a kind of determination in his eyes. “I do. I want to swim.” Will takes a step into the water, and another step, and another.

Mike follows, happy to be led for once. At knee depth, both boys look at each other with excitement and hesitation. “Alright,” Will says, “on the count of three.”

“Okay,” Mike says.

“One,” Will looks into Mike’s eyes.

“Two,” Mike places his hands on Will’s hips.

Will breathes, desire flooding his system. He wants Mike here, now, tomorrow, and forever. “Three,” says Will, as Mike leans in. Will stops, frozen in place by their closeness. Mike mouth hangs open, hovering inches from Will. “Three,” Will repeats, unable to think of anything else.

Lifting one of his hands to Will’s face, Mike looks deep into Will’s eyes, and gazes toward his lips. This is all Mike wants. All he’s wanted. There’s no one around. What is he waiting for? He’s mildly aware of his thumb caressing Will’s cheek; he can feel Will’s racing pulse on his palm. His other hand remains on Will’s hip, pulling him ever so slightly toward him.

Will’s hands now travel up Mike’s back, sending volts of lightning through his body. Will’s hands move painfully slow, and Mike realizes he wants Will now. But he wants to enjoy this closeness. Will has never touched him like this. He closes his eyes, trying to savor the trail of Will’s fingertips, warm and curious. Finally, one of Will’s hands wind up at the nape of Mike’s neck, at his hair line, and he gives a soft tug. A moan escapes from Mike’s mouth, and before he can feel embarrassed by it, Will breathlessly repeats, “Three.” Rising on his toes to match Mike’s height, Will kisses Mike on the lips. It’s vibrant. It’s electric. It’s exactly what he imagined it’d be. It’s perfect. The kiss lasts, Mike pulling Will to be closer to his body, left hand resting on the small of Will’s back, right hand pulling Will’s face closer, closer, closer. Will’s hands are all over Mike’s hair, pushing, tugging, teasing. Will runs his tongue across Mike’s lower lip, earning another groan from Mike. The kiss becomes hungry, greedy, each trying to give the other years’ worth of kisses in just one embrace. Will bites Mike’s lip and tugs gently. Mike tries pulling Will closer, but loses balance. The two teeter in the water, trying to regain their balance, but closed eyes and hungry, grasping movements cause the two to tip into the water.

The water shocks them both. They come up from the water, drenched, laughing, and reaching for one another.

By now, the sun sits lazily along the horizon, and the boys share a look. Mike splashes Will. “Bet I can swim faster than you.”

“You wish!” Will says, returning the splash and getting a head start. They swim to a nearby rock and back. When they can stand again, Will pants. Between breaths, he says, “Alright, you win. You’re the better swimmer.”

Mike smiles. He’s thinking of running his hair through Will’s wet hair when he realizes he can. He steps toward Will again.

Will continues to pant. “Gotta,” a breath, “catch,” another, “my breath,” another, “before,”

“Before what?” Mike teases, placing his hands on Will’s head. He pushes back his hair, leaning down to kiss his nose.

“Before you take my breath away again,” Will responds, “with those lips of yours.”

“Alright.” Mike plants another kiss on his cheek. “Then, in the meantime,” a kiss on his forehead, “I’ll have to make do,” a kiss on the chin, “with the rest of you,” a kiss on the neck.

Will’s whimper sends a shock down Mike. He never imagined how good it would feel to make Will feel good enough to make that sound. He wants to draw more from him, wants to hear all of his sounds, to explore all of his body, and cherish it. He feels Will shiver.

“Want to get out of the water?” Mike asks between kisses on the neck and ear.

“I… I don’t want you to stop.”

“I won’t,” Mike says, placing his hands on Will’s hips to steady him as he takes small, cautious steps toward the shore. All the while, he kisses Will.

As they get closer to their blanket, Will reaches down to grab the towels, and Mike gently follows Will downward, easing them to the ground. Mike grabs a towel and begins drying Will off.

“Don’t stop,” Will pleads.

“As you wish,” Mike responds, leaning to kiss where he dries Will. He starts at his legs, placing kisses on Will’s knees while drying his calves, moving up toward his thighs. Next, Mike kisses Will’s hips, shimmying the towel beneath him so he can dry his back. As the towel moves up Will’s torso, so does Mike’s mouth. Finally, Mike makes his way to Will’s neck and brings the towel up to his hair. Mike places the towel beneath Will's head like a pillow. The kisses warm Will through. He’s never felt so warm, so complete.

Mike begins drying himself off, but Will stops him, grabbing his hand. “Let me,” he says.

And so Will dries off Mike in the same way Mike did for him: trailing kisses all across his body. Mike feels each kiss, eyes closed, savoring all the love Will is willing to give him. He doesn’t need to think about anything else in this moment but Will and Will’s body and Will’s kisses and Will’s mouth.
Will moves behind Mike so he can dry his back. He kisses Mike on the shoulder, making his way slowly toward his neck. Mike shivers.

“Cold?” Will asks, a whisper against his skin.

Mike shakes his head. “No, you just feel…”

“Yeah?” Will prods, kissing Mike’s neck, then ear, then-

“You feel-” Mike gasps. He turns, surprising Will. He pulls Will to the ground with him, so that Mike lays with his back on the sand and Will on top of him. Will straddles Mike’s legs and leans into Mike, kissing his lips.

“I feel,” Will says between kisses, “what, exactly?”

“You feel so,” Mike breathes, “So fucking good.” Mike can feel Will smile. “I’ve wanted this,” Mike says, “wanted you for so long.”

Somehow, though it’s clear Will reciprocates his feelings, to say it out loud still frightens Mike. Will breaks the kiss.

“You’ve wanted me? Mike, I’ve imagined this moment… I don’t even know how many times. I’ve known for years… and only recently did I realize you might… well, that you might feel the same way.”

Mike watches Will’s eyes as he talks.

“Until these last couple of months, I thought I had no chance. You seemed so obsessed with El, and in Lenora you acted strange… I was so confused. When we moved into your house, I thought it would be so awkward, but then… it wasn’t?”

Mike nods. “I already knew my feelings for you in Lenora. That’s why I… I pushed you away. I’m sorry for that. I was terrified.”

Will nods, understanding.

Mike continues, “then when you showed me the painting, I thought you might like me back, and you gave this weird speech-”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Will interrupts.

“And I was scared again. Scared to tell you, to tell anyone. Then, when you moved in, I didn’t mean to flirt with you non-stop, it just happened. I didn’t have to pretend with El anymore since she ended it. And then loving you just came so easily to me…”

Will’s eyes widen.

“Even though I told myself to stop, I just couldn’t seem to. And now…” Mike hesitates. He doesn’t want to talk about his mom tonight.

“Now, what?” Will asks.

“Now I know how you feel, for sure. Now we can be together.”

Will’s lips slowly form a wide smile. “Be together?”

“Yeah, well, that’s what we both want, so why not?”

“Well-”

“Don’t answer that,” Mike states. “Let’s just- can we be like this together? We don’t have to tell anyone yet… I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“Okay,” Will says. “Let’s be like this. And what would you call this?”

“Boyfriends?” Mike suggests.

Will’s smile becomes a huge grin. “Boyfriends.” He repeats, in disbelief. “Boyfriends,” Will nods. “Alright, let’s be boyfriends.”

Mike sits up to meet Will. “Boyfriends,” he says, and traps Will in a hug.

Will laughs. “Boyfriends!”

Chapter Text

The two boys lay beside one another on the blanket, dried off and clothed, watching the stars. Will’s head rests on Mike’s chest, one arm splayed across his torso. Mike’s right arm rests under Will’s head and wraps around to hold Will’s shoulder, drawing him close. Empty snack wrappers stick out of Will’s backpack, threatening to blow away. Their swimsuits hang in a bush to dry. The towels are folded under their heads for support.

Mike is warm and increasingly happy with the silence. It’s not an empty silence, like when there is nothing to say. Instead, it is a silence of shared understanding. A silence that says nothing else needs to be said. A silence that blankets the two, wrapping them in the warmth of truth and acceptance. A silence Mike could fall asleep to.

Bodies flush together, Mike still craves more touch from Will. He reaches his left hand to his stomach, where Will’s hand rests, and grabs it. Will accepts his hand, drawing slow circles with his thumb. Mike smiles to himself and draws his gaze away from the cosmic display above him, turning to kiss Will’s hair. The last time Mike felt so at peace… it must have been when Will came back from the Upside Down. Before the visions, before Dart, before the illusion of sanctity had been broken. When Mike knew Will was safe, and they could be best friends, like normal. No pretending. Now, lying here, Mike feels as though he never wants to leave. Will is his sanctuary.

Will speaks, breaking the quiet. “Think we should head home now? Karen might start to get worried.”

Mike doesn’t answer, but shifts so that he is facing Will, and pulls him tighter against him. Will nuzzles his head against Mike chest. Oh, to be needed. To be loved like this. Mike doesn’t want to leave this perfect night. Then, a thought occurs to him. It doesn’t have to end.

“Mike…” Will says, voice muffled against Mike’s sweater.

“Just one more kiss,” Mike answers. Will lifts his face to meet Mike’s, gently pressing their lips together, silver threads of moonlight dancing around them like blessings. I love you, I love you, I love you.

 

As they ride back home, Mike speaks into the night. “I was thinking,”

“Uh oh,” Will jokes.

“Would you… would you want to spend the night in my room tonight?”

Will face reddens. “In your room? I mean, sure, um. Yes, just.” He pauses, thinking. “Yeah! I’ll grab my mattress from the basement-”

“I was thinking we could share my bed.”

Will is quiet. He glances at Mike, who smiles at him. “I’ll- yeah! Yeah, okay,” Will manages.

Mike turns away, grinning.

They place their bikes in the garage, throwing their towels and suits in the dryer. Inside, Will starts to go downstairs, when Mike grabs his arm. “Where are you going?”

“I was going to grab pajamas,” Will starts.

“Just wear mine. Come on.”

“The others might notice-”

“They won’t.”

“Mike-”

“I want you to wear mine,” Mike whispers.

Will looks into Mike’s eyes. “Alright,” he says, a slight smile curving his lips. He leans in close, “But we’re not showering together.” Mike swallows. “Not yet,” Will adds. He pushes past Mike up the stairs.

Mike waits for Will in his room, seated on his bed with the cologne near him. He let Will go first in case the hot water runs out. The rest of the house is quiet, save for the TV in the living room and soft music coming from Nancy’s room. Karen had greeted them when they returned. She didn’t say anything to rouse suspicion from Mike, but he felt her gaze linger over the two as they headed upstairs.

When Will enters his bedroom, his heart skips a beat. Will’s hair is wet, his skin pink from the warm water, and he’s wearing a pair of Mike’s flannel pajamas paired with a band tee. Mike wants nothing more than to kiss his warm body, hands wandering along his back and torso. Will walks toward him slowly and brings a palm to the bottom of Mike’s mouth, shutting it. He hadn’t realized he was staring open-mouthed at Will. Will looks at him with a devilish glint in his eyes.

“Your turn,” Will says, voice low and dripping with honey. Mike swallows, at a loss for words. Will reaches down to grab Mike’s elbow, pulling him to stand up. Mike stares, amazed by Will’s leadership in this way. “Go wash up,” Will says, with a slight push on Mike’s back.

In the shower, Mike replays the events of the night. While rinsing the soap from his hair, he remembers the first tug from Will and touches the base of his neck, trying to memorize the touch. Lathering his body with soap, he tries to recall each kiss Will gave him along his back, shoulders, torso… God. How good that felt… I wonder if he will do it again; if all I have to do is ask. Is this really my life now?

Drying off, he thinks of Will’s towel against his skin, how it felt knowing that the only thing keeping them apart was a piece of fabric. Brushing his teeth, he thinks of all the places he will kiss Will tonight. Finally, he’s ready for bed, and walks back into his room.

Will is seated at his desk again. At the sound of the door closing, Will places his pencil down and straightens his back, but doesn’t turn toward Mike. Mike pauses at the door, recalling his vision from earlier in the day.

“Come here,” Will says, turning his head slightly.

Mike obeys. When he stands beside Will, Will turns his body to face him, his head about hip height to Mike. Will places his hands on Mike’s hips, pulling him forward, and rests his head on his torso. Mike’s heart beats faster, feeling Will’s warm breath through his shirt. Mike places his hands in Will’s hair, still lightly damp. Will’s head slumps slightly at Mike’s touch, his cheek pressed against Mike’s stomach. Slowly, Will brings his left hand forward to lift Mike’s shirt, and moves his head to kiss the indent in his hips. Mike breaths deepen, eyes closed, heat rising. Will’s soft lips against his sensitive skin, trailing upward, just far enough apart to make Mike yearn for closeness. Will continues his slow conquest, rising to stand as he travels upward. Will keeps his hands on Mike’s shirt, pulling it up and up as he makes his way. Finally, Will pulls Mike’s shirt up over his head, tossing it lightly on the ground. When he reaches Mike’s shoulder, he orders, “Turn around.”

Mike turns, slowly, and Will’s hands land on his hips again. Will holds Mike, pulling their bodies together, planting soft kisses along Mike’s shoulders. In his mind, Mike hears music and sways slightly. Will plays along, gently moving with Mike, hands now trailing a path upward on Mike’s bare chest. Mike’s heart beats wildly, breaths hitching as Will’s hands explore his skin. Will’s hands reach his shoulders and slowly trail down his arms, tracing the indents of Mike’s muscles. Will’s hands reach Mike’s, and Will slowly leads Mike to turn around, bringing their chests together. They dance to the music of the room: their hearts drumming loudly in their ears, the slight creak of the floor boards, the gentle breeze from the cracked window. Will leans his head on Mike’s shoulder, facing toward Mike. Mike kisses the top of Will’s hair, smelling his head. Citrus. Soap. Musk. Home.

They sway gently for a while, until Mike’s eyelids feel heavy. Without speaking, the two make their way to Mike’s bed. Mike climbs in first, making room for Will. Will climbs in, and the two lie on their backs for a moment, suddenly shy.

Yes, they’ve kissed and touched each other, now, but sleeping in the same bed… that’s something else entirely.

“Could I…” Will starts, “Can I hold you?”

Mike looks at Will’s eyes, a deep green today. “Yes,” he breathes. “Please.”

Will returns his gaze, as if to memorize each freckle on Mike’s face.

“How would you, um…” Mike trails off. “Uh, how would you like me… to be?”

Will responds by placing his hand on Mike’s shoulder, gently turning him to his side, then coming closer until Will’s torso is flush with Mike’s back. Will shifts his legs against Mike’s, then pushes his left leg forward slightly so that it lies between Mike’s legs. Will’s left arm wraps around Mike’s torso, holding Mike’s left hand above his stomach. Will’s face is pressed into Mike’s neck, so that Mike feels every breath Will takes. Mike’s stomach twirls, his lips forming a soft smile. To be loved like this… to be held, to be needed… it’s exactly what I have been searching for. Will was right in front of me this whole time, and only now I find the courage…

“Will,” Mike says, like a question.

“Hmmm,” Will responds.

“I’m sorry.”

Will stirs. “Sorry?” A beat. “For what?”

“For taking so long. For being scared. For… for Lenora. For ignoring your feelings in the back of the van. And for arguing with you in the rink… I was so scared…”

Will squeezes Mike. “No apology necessary.”

“Will…”

“Mike,” Will says, serious now, “Thank you. But,” he leans up, so he can see Mike’s face. He watches a tear form and reaches up to wipe it away. “Look, if anyone can understand being afraid of these feelings, it’s me. I tried stamping them down, too, I tried ignoring them, tried liking girls, but. It just. It never… It was always you. I couldn’t ignore it. There were no girls to compare.”

Mike is quiet. “I mean, I think I still like girls… it’s just, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Will smiles. “Yeah?”

Mike laughs, “Yeah, I thought I made that pretty obvious.”

“Still nice to hear it out loud,” Will says.

Mike turns onto his back. “I… I wanted to tell you something.”

Will stays quiet and nods once. Mike chews his lip.

“I… I really enjoyed tonight. Thanks for… for packing all of that and- well, for planning it.”

Will nods. “Of course. I’ve only been dreaming of this for as long as I can remember,” he jokes.

Mike looks down.

“There’s something else,” Will states. Mike nods. “What is it, love?”

Mike looks at Will then. Hearing that word from Will’s lips is like seeing his first eclipse. Like tasting ice cream for the first time. Like rolling a natural twenty in a critical moment in battle. Like finally figuring out a puzzle he’d worked on all week, and the answer was there, so easy, so obvious, and right in his face. He wants Will to call him ‘love’ forever. Wants it to become his name, wants it in ink on his skin, wants to memorize the cadence of which Will stated it, so easy and so casual.

“Is… is that okay? To call you that?” Will asks. “I don’t have to. If that’s too much, I’m sorry, I-”

“I liked it,” Mike says, placing his hand on Will’s cheek. Will deflates in relief.

“You were so quiet!” Will complains.

Mike smiles. “Sorry,” he rubs his thumb on Will’s cheek, “love,” he whispers, barely audible.

Will’s eyebrows rise, a slow smile breaking across his face like a wave. They share a stifled laugh, trying to keep their voices down.

“What did you want to say?” Will repeats. “I want to hear it.”

Mike frowns. He was going to mention his mom; how they should be careful when they’re around the others. How they could be like this all they wanted, as long as they were alone. But he doesn’t want to ruin this moment. He doesn’t want his new name to be whisked away with the fear of being caught.

“You’re scared,” Will states plainly.

Mike’s eyes widen and he nods once.

“Me too,” Will admits. “Let’s just be like this for a while, when we’re alone, and we can figure it out as we go along.”

Mike nods and they settle back into the position Will placed them in. Mike is amazed how well Will understands him. He doesn’t even have to speak; Will can read his expressions. Does Mike understand Will in this way too? He thinks he does. He remembers talking with Will in Lenora. Picking up on what he was saying, or not saying, and being able to decipher his mood by the sound of his exhale. He never had this kind of understanding with El. She was so hard to read. With Will, Mike doesn’t have to pretend his feelings; he doesn’t have to pretend anything. He can just be himself.

But the conversation with his mom settles back into his chest like a weight. He’s terrified of what this budding love means. Would he have to give up his family, his friends? Could he and Will truly be happy? He hasn’t thought this all the way through, maybe he should lock this night away as a memory, not pursue his feelings toward Will. But how? How could Mike just erase their history, their friendship? He can’t. It feels like he has two impossible choices ahead of him: give up Will or give up everything else. With Will’s heartbeat drumming softly against his back, Mike wonders how he could ever end his relationship with Will. He’s a part of him, he brings out what Mike loves best about himself.

“Hey,” Will says, pulling on Mike’s hand.

Mike doesn’t answer.

“Mike,” Will says, sitting up again. Mike turns to lay on his back and looks at Will’s eyes. Deep green. In Will’s eyes, Mike sees old growth forests, ferns and moss, he sees basil and dill, sees blankets and sleepovers and warmth and love.

“Don’t spiral,” Will says. “Just stay here with me, right now. The rest will come later.”

Mike continues studying Will’s eyes, then his focus drops down to his lips. He imagines them opening for him like flower petals to the dawn. Pink as bubblegum, tasting of cinnamon. As if reading his mind, Will’s lips part slightly.

“Michael,” he breathes. “Kiss me.” There’s a desperation in Will’s voice that makes Mike’s heart pound. It’s the same feeling Mike has. Like they couldn’t possibly get enough of each other. That they could kiss, touch, explore for days, months, years, and still not get enough. Still crave the other with the same intensity as now. Just as one would crave air when underwater, no matter how much experience one has swimming.

Mike reaches both hands up to Will’s jaw, pulling him down, suddenly craven, taken over yet again by Will’s demands. Will moves so that their chests align, heartbeats syncing like a song. Will’s left hand steadies him, placed on the other side of Mike’s head, his right hand is wild in Mike’s hair. Mike pushes his chin forward, begging Will to come closer. Mike’s hands remain on Will’s jaw. The kiss is deep. Mike’s tongue, curious in Will’s mouth, draws Will forward, and he struggles to keep quiet.

Will breaks the kiss to speak. “Say my name.”

Mike’s lips, having travelled to Will’s neck in the absence of Will’s mouth, part to say his name. Will groans from the back of his throat, unable to contain the pleasure he gets from hearing his name through Mike’s voice.

Mike’s tongue presses into Will’s neck, causing Will to gasp.

“Again,” Will orders.

Mike obliges, his tongue happy to explore and taste more of Will.

“My name,” Will corrects. “Again.”

Mike drags his teeth along Will’s ear. “William,” he exhales. “William.” He kisses his neck, slowly. “William.”

Mike feels something wet on his cheek. He pulls his head back to look at Will. Eyes red, there are tears streaming down his cheek. Mike cups Will’s face again, looking into his eyes.

“I’m okay,” Will confirms. “I’m just happy. I’m so happy.”

The two share a smile. Will leans down to place his forehead atop Mike’s. Mike laughs, brushing their noses together.

“Will,” Mike whispers, “my love.”

Chapter Text

Sunlight stirs Mike awake. He glances toward the open curtain, rubbing his eyes. In his arms, mostly covered by blankets, is Will. He’s curled into Mike’s chest, making Mike wonder how he’s even able to breathe. The light pours from the window like honey, coating the blankets and glimmering on Will’s hair, making it look like syrup. Mike looks at his clock, seeing it’s nearly ten in the morning. He looks back at Will, lifting hair away from his face. He looks so peaceful. So beautiful. Mike starts petting Will’s hair, amazed by how soft every piece of him is.

After a while of this, Will’s breathing changes.

“Good morning,” Mike whispers.

Will smiles, his eyes still closed. “Mmmm…” Will’s hand reaches out to find Mike’s. It’s still warm with sleep.

“Time?” Will asks.

“Around ten,” Mike answers.

“Mm.” Will grunts. “Play with my hair again?”

Mike grins. “As you wish.”

They both stretch their legs, shifting slightly, but staying close to one another. There’s a light knock on the door. The boys jump, sitting up quickly. “Mike? It’s Jonathan. Have you seen Will?”

Will and Mike share a wide eyed look. “Tell him I slept on your floor last night. And that I’m still sleeping,” Will whispers.

Mike strides to the door and cracks it open. “Hey, Jonathan. Yeah, he’s just in here. We were… playing games pretty late, so he just crashed in my room. He’s still sleeping now.” When Jonathan doesn’t say anything, Mike adds, “He didn’t want to wake you by going back to the basement.”

“Alright,” Jonathan says. “That’s fine, I just wanted to make sure he’s okay. Mom and I were going to go looking at houses again… Could you keep him occupied today?”

“Yeah!” Mike squeaks, a little too high pitched. “Um, yeah, I don’t think I have any plans.”

“Cool. Thanks Mike. And hey, if he asks, maybe don’t mention it? I don’t want to get his hopes up. We haven’t had any luck in previous searches. What few houses are left available, they haven’t been budging on their prices at all…”

Mike swallows. “Sure. I’m sure he won’t ask anyway.”

“Thanks, man.” Jonathan claps Mike’s shoulder and heads downstairs.

Mike turns to Will, eyebrows raised. “Did you know?”

Will huffs. “Yeah, of course. I think I’m the only Byers not going nuts from living with you guys.”

Mike laughs. “And I must be the only Wheeler that enjoys you guys here.” Mike pauses. “Well, I enjoy you here.”

Will smiles. After a beat, he asks, “Are you hungry? Or could we get away with a little more time in here, alone?”

Mike brings his hand up to his chin in mock thought. “Hmm… do I want to spend more time being close with you, or do I want to go downstairs… that’s a really tough question.”

Will’s grin is uncontainable. “Well then get over here,” he says, opening up the blanket.

 

“Good morning, you two,” Karen laughs, hearing the two boys enter the kitchen. She is standing at the counter, hands and arms covered in flour, hair tied back with a clip.

“Good morning Mrs. Wheeler,” Will says. He walks toward the fridge, picking up the milk.

“Morning mom,” Mike answers, grabbing a cereal box.

“What are you making?” Will asks.

“Some chicken pot pie. Holly loves this stuff. Will you boys be home for lunch?”

Mike looks to Will, a question resting on his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Will answers, “do you want any help with that?”

Karen smiles. “That’s nice of you, Will, but I am just making the crust now. I’ve already prepped the rest. It just needs to bake.”

“Okay, maybe next time,” Will offers. Karen’s smile lingers while the boys finish their cereal.

Mike looks at Will. “So what are we going to do today?”

“I was thinking of playing a game.” Will pauses. “In the basement. Since Jonathan’s gone.”

Mike’s stomach flutters. Ever since the Byers moved in, the basement became off-limits in Mike’s head. It felt too personal to enter that space, knowing that Will slept there, especially while trying to sort out his feelings for Will. He has been down there, of course, it being the main storage area of the house. But it no longer feels the way it did when they were just kids playing dnd. It feels like Will’s personal space. Being invited there makes Mike nervous and giddy.

After breakfast, they head downstairs. The basement is crowded. It’s clear that neither boys nor Joyce clean their space very often. It’s also clear that Joyce must not spend as much time here as his parents believe she does. That thought sparks an image of El, and Mike feels a twinge of guilt in his stomach. How would she feel about this? It’s over anyway. She made that clear.

Will makes his way to the couch, picking up his sketch book. As Mike follows, he passes by Will’s bed. It’s unmade and messy. His fingers brush the surface of the pillow case, and he wishes he could press his face into it and breathe deeply. Instead, he plops beside Will on the couch, close enough for their thighs to touch. Will flips through the book of his drawings.

“Ah, here it is,” he says, angling the book so that Mike can see it better.

Mike regards the drawing in awe, gently taking the book from Will, fingertips trailing the sides of the page. It shows a scene from a one-shot campaign Dustin recently DM’d: Will’s character, a cleric, and Mike’s character, a paladin. They stand back to back. Will’s character holds his staff in front of him, wielding it with two hands. The staff is wooden, crooked, and ends in a semi circle with a blue gem in the center. He wears purple robes covered in yellow stars. His face is determined, focused. Mike guesses he must be casting a spell. Mike’s character, clad in leather armor, holds his shield with one arm and his sword in the other. His shield bears the same coat of arms that Will has used before: a red heart with a yellow crown shining above it. His armor has hearts carved into the leather. His sword is lowered, positioned in a defensive stance. Both of the characters’ hair is tousled, faces scraped and bruised, clothes bearing stains and rips from battle. Mike remembers this scene: the final stance against the necromancer. The crew had been overrun by summoned undead.

Mike examines the artwork, noticing the parts of the page that had been rubbed away by an eraser- namely, their hands- as well as the creases from repeated line work.

“It’s incredible,” Mike whispers, sparing a look at the artist. Will is watching Mike intently and looks into his eyes now. Mike is amazed by Will’s soft, gentle beauty. His warm brown hair crowning his face like a halo; his eyebrows, a darker brown, which hold so much of Will’s emotion and thought; his dark eyelashes like wings framing his hazel eyes- Mike feels he could take flight looking into those eyes- and of course the ever-changing color of his eyes, a kaleidoscope of blues and greens, drawing Mike ever closer and closer; the set of his cheeks and the shade of pink they turn as Mike looks at him- the way he is looking at him now; his nose a gentle curve towards his full lips; his cupid’s bow an invitation; his chin strong and steady.

“Thank you,” Will says, breaking Mike’s trance, and reaches over to turn the page. “I wanted to show you this one, too.”

Mike drags his gaze away from Will. The next drawing depicts the aftermath of battle. Will’s character is bent over Mike’s as he lies on the ground, overcome with wounds. In the game, the others’ characters had been present, too, watching as Will’s character tried to heal Mike’s. But in this drawing, only the two of them are present.

Will’s character has his hand on the other’s chest, and chants a healing spell. To depict the spell, Will has drawn light shading swirling from his character’s heart, trailing down his arm and encompassing Mike’s character’s torso. Will’s character is mid-chant: lips parted, tears spilling. Mike’s character has his right arm placed on Will’s, a slight smile on his lips. An acceptance of death.

“Will, this is amazing… how did you get my eyes to look half-dead?” Mike asks, his fingers caressing the trail of magic on the page.

“I don’t know, just half closed, I guess? I wanted to capture the moment before you died, when there was still hope.” Will answers.

“Well, you got it. You are such an incredible artist… I love the physical depiction of the incantation.”

Will smiles. “Thank you.”

“You look… sad, but so powerful.” Mike is quiet for a moment. “Is this… when did you draw this?”

Will considers this. “I think a month ago? It was just a week or two after that session, which we did in April I think.”

Mike thinks back. “That sounds about right.”

“I need to start writing the date on my drawings,” Will admits. A beat. “Why do you ask?”

Mike straightens. He hadn’t realized he was hunched over, staring at the sketch book. “Well, I guess I just wondered…” Mike clears his throat, his gaze turning to the floor.

“Wondered…?” Will probes.

“I guess I just wondered if this drawing, the emotion within it, had anything to do… with us?” Mike says, shifting his feet. “I mean, like if you drew this picture, where your character is holding on to hope even though I’m- like- dead- or, dying, I guess- uh, like if that was a metaphor maybe for how you felt about my feelings toward you? At that point?”

Will bristles, leaning back into the couch. He looks toward the window, light shining on his face. Mike watches carefully, afraid he’s assumed too much.

“Wow,” Will says, “I guess I never thought of it that way. But probably, yeah. I mean, at that point, you’re right, I was starting to give up hope. But I don’t know… my thoughts were so incongruous at that time. I felt like twenty times a day I would go back and forth, thinking, is Mike flirting with me right now? No, there’s no way… but it seems so…” Will sentence trails off.

Mike deflates a bit, his elbows sinking deeper into his knees. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” Will states. “I forgive you. How could we have known?”

“I knew,” Mike says. “I knew since you gave me the painting. I knew, and I was just too scared.”

“You knew,” Will asks, “or you had an idea, a hope?”

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference is huge.” Will asserts, sitting back up, his hand rising to Mike’s shoulder. “The difference is that you were still unsure of how I felt, and that telling the truth was and is terrifying.”

Mike doesn’t say anything. He feels his chest caving in. All this time, he’s let Will feel alone and different. He’s let Will believe they couldn’t relate in this way, and worse, that Mike didn’t feel anything towards him. When in reality, Mike has clung to Will like a lifeline, not the other way around. When Will first disappeared, Mike felt like he was going crazy, being the only one to care and search for Will. Then, when he was finally back, Mike never wanted to leave Will’s side. Mike constantly watched Will, looking for any signs of distress and seeking to remedy any problem that arose for him. Mike was the one attuned to Will’s every action. Mike was the one who could tell Will was having a bad day, just from one look: his gait, his facial expression, his breaths, his posture, how frantically he doodled in the margins of his notebook.

All this time, both boys were slowly coming to the same realization and running from it.

“I knew, Will. I knew, and I was a coward.”

Will tugs on Mike’s shoulder, forcing him to sit up. When Mike still doesn’t look at him, Will brings his left hand to Mike’s jaw, forcing his head to face him. Mike’s gaze remains elsewhere, unable to meet his eyes.

“Michael.”

Tears form in Mike’s eyes, sitting on his waterline. He wants the pain to go away; to enjoy the time they do have together, instead of harking on all of their lost time. He wants the guilt to melt away like butter, seep out of him and harden on the floor, instead of sitting inside him, weighing him down.

“Mike, look at me.” Will tries again.

But the pain is on his chest, goading him to stay here, away from Will. If he had to suffer, then I have to suffer too.

“Love,” Will whispers. Mike looks into his eyes, awoken from the spell at the sound of his new name. Will smiles. “I love you now, you’re mine now, I get to kiss you now, and that’s all that matters to me. Can you accept that? Accept that I forgive you, for all of it, because we wound up here?”

Mike searches Will’s eye for a lie. When he finds none, he nods. For now, the feeling dissipates, spreading through the room instead of sitting on Mike.

 

At lunch, Holly, Mike, Will, and Karen sit at the table. The two boys sit beside each other with Karen and Holly on the opposite side of the table. Holly is talking about the latest Nancy Drew book she’s reading.

Mike scoots his chair closer to Will’s, under the guise of getting closer to the table.

“This is delicious, Mrs. Wheeler,” Will states, taking a large bite of his food.

“Thank you, Will,” Karen smiles. “I think the crust came out better than my last one.”

“Yeah, much better!” Mike nods, then catches his mom’s glare. “I mean, the last one was great, but this one is even greater,” Mike flounders.

Will hides his laugh behind his hand. Mike catches Will’s eyes, and the two share a look. Mike’s eyes say shut up. Will’s eyes say you’re such an idiot. I can’t believe I love you.

“Michael, do you know when Nancy gets back home today?” Karen asks.

Mike looks back to his mom. “No, actually. She was gone before I came downstairs. I’m not sure where she went today.”

“I thought she was going out for an interview. She looked nice,” Karen comments.

Holly continues her plot synopsis when suddenly, Will’s right hand brushes Mike’s leg, sending volts of lightning through Mike’s body. As Mike feels Will’s hand touch his leg, he becomes hyper aware of everything else in the room: the light coming through the kitchen window, the gaze of both Holly and Karen, where his own hands are positioned, the angle of his fork as he grabs another bite. The room seems to quiet down, the only sounds being Mike’s rapid heart and the scraping of forks on plates. Through all of it, he can only feel one thing: Will’s hand trailing a slow, tormenting path toward his knee. His grip is soft and steady. When he does reach Mike’s knee, he squeezes it, then starts his path back up his thigh.

Mike tries to steady his breath. Thank God mom is occupied with Holly. Will’s touch is electric, magnifying everything around Mike. Act normal. Act normal. Breathe. Breathe Mike!

Will’s hand leaves Mike. The room dims. Mike lets out a breath and looks toward Will, longing etched into his eyes. For a moment, Will shares the same look- desire. Then he looks away, and his face is stoic. How can he do that? Just turn it off?

“Can I take your plate?” Mike offers, just to get Will to look at him again.

“Sure, thanks,” Will replies, placing his fork on his empty plate.

Mike stands, taking their plates to the sink.

“Rinse them, please, Michael,” Karen calls.

“I know!” Mike replies, though he was just about to set them in the sink. As he rinses, he wonders at Will’s ability to just turn off his feelings that quick, that seamless. As he does, he also imagines Will coming up behind him, grabbing his waist, pulling him close. Resting his head against Mike’s back as he rinses dishes. Something so plain, so boring, and yet the thought of this touch drives Mike wild.

Mike’s so lost in his own vision that he doesn’t hear Will approach from the dining room.

“Want to go out?” Will asks.

“Huh?” Mike jumps, setting the plates down and peering into the dining room to see if his mom heard.

“Do you want to go out, like for a bike ride?” Will expands, giving Mike a deadly grin.

“Oh,” Mike smiles back, giving Will a playful shove. “Yes, Will, let’s go out. For a bike ride.”

Chapter Text

The boys meet at the stairs, out of sight of Karen and Holly.

“I’m going to change and grab some stuff. Let’s meet back here and head out,” Will says, already heading to the basement.

“Wait,” Mike grabs Will’s elbow. Will turns to face him. “Can I know where we’re going today? So I can… you know, dress appropriately?”

Will smiles. “I thought we could visit Max. It’s been nearly a week. And then… maybe some stuff after.”

“Oh, nice, ‘some stuff’ sounds really cool,” Mike jokes.

“Uh huh,” Will says, laughing. “Very cool.” He turns to head downstairs. This time, Mike doesn’t catch him, but he does imagine kissing him here, in the open, at his house, with people at home. He imagines loving Will out loud. What if he just told someone… everyone? He recalls his mother’s expression as she spoke with him at the store: curious, loving. Maybe she could accept him, accept this.

Mike shakes his head, climbing the stairs. Idiot.

He changes into shorts and a navy collared shirt, then steps in front of his mirror. His image stares back at him, head cocked, lips pursed, considering his hair. He got his hair cut fairly short after his trip to California, and since then, it’s been curlier, something he thinks Will likes. He doesn’t comb it out anymore, doesn’t try to mold it into any particular shape. Usually he just shakes his hair until it looks okay. Today, we wants to put more effort into it, but doesn’t know what to do.

He steps toward the mirror, hands raised to style his hair. He fluffs one side, then the other, and frowns. Not really what I was going for. He tries shaking it out again, and is displeased once more. Soon, he’s messing with his hair wildly, hoping it will turn out. Mike pauses, chewing his lip. Maybe some water…

He crosses the hallway and goes into the bathroom, wetting his fingers. Still not quite…right. Frustrated, he wonders if Nancy might have some hair products he could use… some gel, maybe? He opens cabinets and drawers, scouring for something he can use.

He’s reading a label for instructions when Will knocks on the bathroom door. He leans on the door frame, so casually handsome it hurts. Will’s eyebrows raise.

“What are you going to do with hairspray, Mike?”

Mike blanches. “Uh… this isn’t, that’s not- I was gonna- see, I was just looking-”

Will nods sarcastically, grinning wide. “Oh, yeah?”

Mike drops the act, his face red. “I was trying to… do my hair.”

“Do what, exactly?”

“Uh, I don’t know, like, make it better?”

Will’s smile softens. “Your hair is perfect.”

Mike looks at the mirror. His hair is slightly damp and his curls tangled. He looks back at Will. “My hair looks like it is waging war on itself.”

Will slips into the bathroom, the door closing quietly behind him. “Your hair,” he says, placing his hands on Mike’s arms, “is perfect,” he repeats, rising on tip toes to kiss Mike’s nose. “Your nose,” he continues, “is perfect. Your arms,” Will’s hands squeeze Mike’s biceps, “are perfect. Your shoulders,” Will’s arms rise, elbows resting on Mike’s shoulders, “are perfect.”

Mike’s heart beats wildly. He holds Will’s intense gaze, begging him to come closer. Please keep doing this. Please keep touching me and loving me, forever.

“Your lips,” Will says, staring deep into Mike’s eyes, “are perfect.” Will leans closer, brushing their noses together, their lips hovering centimeters away, their hot breaths mixing, a sweet smell.

Kiss me, please kiss me, end my torment.

Will leans back, placing his heels on the ground. Mike leans with him, unable to break this embrace. His hands grab Will’s neck and pull him in, kissing him deeply.

I love you, I love you, I love you. Was it always supposed to be this easy?

Will kisses him back, pushing into Mike with his chin, hands in his hair. When Mike breaks the kiss to breathe, Will moves to his neck, trailing kisses toward his ear.

“My love,” Will whispers, sending goose flesh across Mike’s arms, “I like your outfit.”

Suddenly hungrier than before, Mike pulls Will back to his mouth. His kisses are strong, greedy, asking for more. Will obliges, giving Mike more and more of himself, until he is out of breath. Will pulls away.

“Softer,” Will says, eyes still closed.

Mike stops, taking a breath. “Sorry.”

“No sorries,” Will pleads. “Kiss me here,” he brings his palm to Mike’s mouth. Mike takes Will’s hand with both of his, beginning a trail of gentle kisses from his palm toward his wrist, up his bare arm. Will’s other hand rests on Mike’s hip.

Eyes closed, Will takes ragged breaths, continuously amazed by Mike’s softness. Mike’s mouth is at Will’s neck now and he smiles, feeling Will shiver at his touch.

A creak on the stairs. Mike stiffens, hands flying away from Will. Will steps backward, hand on the door handle, already opening it to flee. Mike watches Will quickly cross into his room and stares at the empty space in front of him.

He’s standing, dumb-struck, when Nancy enters the door frame. She frowns.

“What are you doing with my hairspray?” Her tone is accusing.

“Nothing!” Mike says, anger rising. “It was there on the counter,” he lies.

“It was not,” Nancy corrects.

“I thought you went out,” Mike points out.

“Yeah, and now I’m back.” She waits, standing there. “So are you done in here? Or…” She gestures for him to leave.

Mike exits and bows, gesturing her forward. “My lady,” he mocks.

“You are such an idiot, Michael Wheeler!” Nancy says, shutting the door in his face.

Mike turns to his room and sees Will sitting at his desk. The two burst into hushed laughter.

 

“Don’t forget your walkman,” Will calls over his shoulder.

Mike grabs the walkman from his desk and follows Will downstairs.

“MOM!” Mike shouts. “WE’RE VISITING MAX!”

Karen steps into view, the landline phone tucked between her neck and shoulder. “I’m right here Michael.”

 

“Oh, sorry.” Mike fidgets. “Uh, we’re gonna go visit Max. We’ll be home later.”

Karen nods, stepping back into the kitchen. “I know, right? Everytime.” She laughs into the phone.

The boys share a look. Will barely contains his laughter, pulling Mike by his shirt sleeve. They get on their bikes and ride quietly to the hospital.

“Hey, Will?” Mike asks as they round the corner toward the building.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think she’ll come back?”

Will pauses as they park their bikes, turning to Mike with a pained look.

“I honestly don’t know… but my guess? Truly? No.”

Mike frowns.

“I know that’s not what you want to hear. But I barely survived the Upside Down for a week. And I had you and everyone searching for me. And El, at that time, she could reach me. Now she can’t find Max. I don’t think it’s a good sign.”

Mike focuses on the wheel of his bike. The tread is thinning. Would Max be okay if Mike had been truthful with El? Tell her that he does love her, just not in the way that he initially thought? El has changed his life and he is grateful for her. For her friendship. Maybe he could have encouraged her more.

Will places his hand on Mike’s wrist, causing Mike to look up, into his eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself, Mike. It won’t do any good.”

Mike nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.” He turns to enter the door, his mind still clamoring to make sense of the last few months and his role in the events that led Max here. The two sign in at the front desk and make their way to Max’s room. When they enter, Lucas is there. His head is resting on their entwined hands, asleep. The radio plays a few feet from Lucas’ head. Mike and Will give each other a knowing look. Will steps forward, placing his hand on Lucas’ shoulder.

“Hey, Lucas, it’s Will… want to take a break? Lucas?” Will gives his shoulder a soft shake and Lucas startles awake.

Shoulders still slouched, hand still in Max’s, Lucas groggily replies. “Oh, hey guys. What time is it?”

Mike checks his watch. “It’s one fifteen. How are you holding up?”

“Oh, you know,” Lucas responds with a slight chuckle. “All rainbows and sunshine, here.”

“I bet,” Will says. “Why don’t you take a walk? Get some fresh air. We’ll keep Max company for a while.”

Lucas shakes his head, about to argue, when Mike speaks up. “Lucas, you look like shit. You need to take a break from this room. We’ll be right here with her. She’ll be safe while you’re gone.”

Lucas’ eyes are red. He stands, placing Max’s hand on the bed. He turns toward the door, takes one step, and begins to cry. Will and Mike rush forward, holding up Lucas’ weight as he crumbles into them. Mike’s hand finds Will’s, brushing his pinky finger. Thank you for suggesting this.

Lucas cries quietly for a while, then straightens. “Thank you…” He makes a point to look both boys’ in the eyes. “It’s been hard for me today. The radio…” He pauses, voice catching. “I’m gonna take that walk.” He claps Mike on the shoulder as he walks out.

Alone, the boys look at each other and sigh. They each take a seat beside Max, their knees a breath away from touching.

“Hey, Max,” Will starts, “it’s Will and Mike. Lucas went for a walk.” A beat.

“We went to the lake yesterday,” Mike offers.

Will looks up at him. “Yeah, we did,” Will says slowly.

“I beat Will in a swimming race, obviously.”

“Obviously?” Will says, incredulous.

“He was leagues behind me, really, it was kind of embarrassing-”

“Mike!” Will protests.

“He cried like a baby afterward.”

“Mike is completely full of shit, as you are already well aware of.”

“Well aware of?” It’s Mike’s turn to object. “I think Will has me confused with someone else. I’m totally empty of shit-” Will snorts. Mike looks at Will, exasperated. “I mean like I’m not full of it. Of shit. I’m not full of shit.”

Will is cracking up at this point, hands over his belly. Mike watches him, the way his mouth breaks open into a wide smile, the sound of his laugh reverberating off the walls, like honey in his ears. Beautiful.

Will stops laughing, looking at Mike suddenly, his smile still radiant on his face.

“What?”

Mike furrows his brows. “What what?”

“Did you just call me beautiful?”

Mike blushes, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Did I say that out loud?”

Will’s eyes crinkle, disbelief and joy arguing over his face.

“Well, you are.” Mike affirms. “Beautiful.”

Will bites his lip, returning Mike’s eye contact. “See? He’s so full of shit,” Will says, facing Max.

Mike laughs, too. “I’m not full of anything.” He takes Will’s hand and leans over his ear, whispering, “you are beautiful, William Byers.”

Mike enjoys watching the blush return to Will’s face. They spend another hour with Max. Most of that time, Will is talking to Max as Mike twirls Will’s hair or fiddles with his belt loops. When Lucas returns to the room, Mike stiffens, and his chair winds up a foot away from Will. The three of them chat for a while until they have nothing left to talk about. Then Will takes Fireball Island out of his backpack.

“What!!! Dude, why didn’t you bring that out sooner!” Lucas says, a wide smile on his face. “I’ve been wanting to try that game again!”

Will laughs. “Thought you might want to.”

“I’ll play an extra character piece for Max,” Mike offers.

“Yeah,” Lucas says, looking at him, “sure, so that you can have double the chances of winning.”

“Dude, it’s a co-op,” Mike argues.

“Okay, double the chances of being the hero-”

The three of them play for a few hours, narrating the events of the game to Max. Nurses come in and out of the room, checking on her. When visiting hours are over, at eight, the boys file out of the room.

“Thanks for coming today, guys,” Lucas says as they approach the bike rack. “Today was hard. Her favorite songs were playing, and I kept imagining her finger twitching. I kept thinking maybe she’d come back to us.”

“She will come back,” Mike asserts, facing Lucas. “She will.” They nod to each other and say goodbye.

Mike and Will watch Lucas head off. Mike turns to Will. “So? Where are we headed?”

Will’s face is nearly unreadable. But Mike can tell he’s thinking of Max and where she could be.

“Why don’t I pick?” Mike offers.

Will nods. “Sure.”

“We can just go back home, if you want.”

Will shakes his head.

“You sure? You don’t seem like you’re here with me.” Mike says this with no malice.

“I’m… I just go back sometimes. Back there. And I don’t know if Max is alive, but if she is, I wonder if she’s in the Upside Down. If she is, I’m worried for her. I guess I’m just worried regardless.”

Mike nods, silent, allowing Will more space to talk. “Sometimes I want to go home and hide when this happens. But today, I want to forget for a while. Can you do that? Take my mind off of all this?” Will looks up at Mike then, gazing into his eyes, dark as espresso.

“Yeah,” Mike replies, sparing a glance at Will’s lips. “I mean, I think I can.” He smirks, making Will laugh.

“Come on,” Mike says, mounting his bike. Will follows him wordlessly.

Chapter Text

They ride for a while. The wind pushes Mike’s hair back and cools his face. Again, the boys share a comfortable silence. Mike searches for a spot to peel off the road. Finally, he sees one, and tells Will to turn. They leave their bikes resting on a tree and follow the narrow path that leads to a large clearing. By now, the sun has set, and the boys have put on their coats.

As they walk, Mike’s hand brushes Will’s, his forefinger asking a question. Will answers by opening his palm and wrapping it in Mike’s. Will doesn’t ask any questions as Mike leads them. Finally, Mike finds a spot he deems good: a dip in the valley for some privacy, a shorter patch of grass, some surrounding trees, and a large view of the sky.

Mike sits, pulling Will down beside him. They sit with their shoulders touching and gaze at the expansive night above them.

“So you think I’m beautiful, huh, Mike Wheeler?”

Mike smiles, eyes still on the stars. “I do.”

He can hear Will shift beside him. After a pause, Will lowers his head onto Mike’s shoulder. His hand reaches out to rest on Mike’s knee, hugging Mike’s leg. Mike’s smile deepens, his head naturally resting against Will’s. They sit like this for a while, their breaths syncing.

“I like the way you fit beside me,” Mike whispers.

Will hums in response, nuzzling his head in Mike’s shoulder.

“Like a puzzle. You fit perfectly.”

Will squeezes Mike’s knee. “I still can’t believe this.”

“Believe what?”

“Believe this. Us. Together.”

Mike turns his face into Will’s hair and breathes deeply. Will continues.

“After all this time of being unsure. All this time pining for you. California kind of sucked. I mean, it was okay. Unless I thought of you. Then that was all I could think about. You take up a lot of space in my mind.”

At this, Mike laughs into Will’s hair. He starts placing delicate kisses on his head, making his way down.

“Like… a lot of space. I guess that’s normal.”

Mike’s hand gently lifts Will’s head so he can continue his path of kisses. He makes his way down the side of his cheek, his ear, his neck, his shoulder.

“Mike,” Will breathes.

Mike looks up, his lips hovering over Will’s collarbone. He looks into Will’s eyes and sees fire. Hunger. Desperation. He kisses Will’s collar, slow and soft. He wants the hunger to remain. He watches Will’s eyes close and hears a low hum of pleasure. Taking this cue, Mike shifts so that he is facing Will, his knees in the cool grass between Will’s legs. He makes his way to the other side of Will, kissing his shoulder, then neck. When he reaches Will’s jaw, he starts guiding Will to lay down: a steady hand on his back.

Will follows his lead, but keeps his elbows in the grass so that he’s not fully laid down.

Mike looks at Will for permission to continue. His eyes are still closed, head facing the stars. Mike’s lips hover above his neck, waiting.

“Love,” Mike whispers. “Look at me.”

Will’s brilliant green eyes open, hunger blazing. Mike’s own desire ignites. He kisses Will on the mouth, now, deep and wanting, hands on either side of his face, pulling Will toward him. Will accepts the kisses, accepts Mike’s wandering tongue, accepts his bite.

Will lies on his back to free his hands, which now hold Mike’s hips, toying with his belt loops. Mike shifts along with him, his legs now straddling Will’s hips. Will’s fingers wander upwards, under Mike’s shirt. The warmth of Will’s fingertips makes Mike shiver with excitement. Slowly, slowly, Will continues. Mike can hardly focus on kissing. Both of Will’s hands are now on Mike’s sides and begin to make their way to his back.

Take more. Take all of me. Take whatever you want. I’m yours.

Will brings his hands back down and grabs Mike’s ass. Mike bites down on Will’s lip too hard, making Will pull away.

“Damn,” Will says, laughing. He brings his fingers to his lips, checking for blood.

“Sorry,” Mike breathes, mouth wide open.

“I’m alright,” Will says. “You’re forgiven.”

Mike’s heart still beats wildly in his chest. He’s still hungry, still needing more. He leans back in, but Will places a hand on his chest.

“I need you,” Mike pleads.

Will meets his eyes. Gorgeous.“Okay. Kiss me in other places.”

Mike grabs Will’s hand, kissing his wrist, then palm, then thumb, then forefinger. Will’s fingers are strong and steady. The hands of an artist. Mike pauses, unsure if he should continue. Will’s two middle fingers are at Mike’s mouth. Mike looks to Will.

“Yes,” Will says.

Mike wraps both of Will’s fingers between his lips and sucks, drawing the fingers deep into his mouth. As Mike does this, he watches Will carefully. His breaths hitch, chest caving with each exhale. His face flushes, his expression serious. He holds Mike’s gaze. The hunger remains, a steady flame.

“Your hands,” Will says between breaths. “Touch me.”

Mike continues sucking on Will’s fingers, using his free hand to explore Will. He begins with his right arm, pleasantly reminded of Will’s muscular bicep. Mike’s long fingers follow Will’s veins down to his hand, which Mike entwines with his. He raises their clasped hands above Will’s head, holding him there.

Their eyes meet again. To Mike’s absolute pleasure, Will looks exactly how Mike feels: ravenous. He gives Will’s hand a squeeze, then splays out his fingers, releasing the hold. His fingers travel downward. Reaching Will’s collar, Mike playfully pulls down, revealing the soft skin of his neck. Unable to contain himself, Mike leans down, pulling Will’s fingers away from his mouth, and kisses Will’s neck. Will exhales, his breath hot on Mike’s ear, drawing a low moan from Mike.

Mike still holds Will’s hand, wet with his saliva, pinned on the grass. Mike’s free hand moves to Will’s neck, adjusting to get a better angle. Mike sucks, kisses, licks Will’s neck until he’s memorized the taste of his skin. Will squirms under him, pleasant sounds escaping his lips.

“Mike,” he whines.

Mike hums in response, sitting back up. He pulls Will’s hand back towards him, placing gentle kisses on his wrist again. His right hand continues his previous expedition as he slides Will’s fingers back into his mouth. Will’s eyes shut, eyebrows raised, and Mike beholds a new face from him. Pleasure. Delight. God, I love making him feel this way. Mike’s hand tugs Will’s shirt up and he places his warm fingers on Will’s bare skin. Upon seeing this exposed skin, Mike suddenly has a new desire, and he gently pulls Will’s hand away from his mouth, slowly lowering himself to kiss the pale skin of Will’s stomach.

His kisses are slow and tentative, each asking a new question as he makes his way downward. Will whimpers, grabbing Mike’s shoulders. Mike draws his hand toward Will’s button, undoing it slowly, giving Will every chance to stop him. He’s unzipping Will’s shorts, when suddenly, Will speaks.

“Not- that- yet,” he gasps. “Even though- I want it.”

Mike looks up, meeting his eyes.

“Just. Not yet,” Will affirms.

“Alright,” Mike says, buttoning his shorts back up. “How about regular kisses? Can we continue those?” He waits for Will’s response, relishing every second he gets to look at Will’s face illuminated by moonlight.

“Yes,” Will says, pulling Mike up toward his face.

They kiss, part of the hunger subsided, so all that remains are slow, strong kisses, with the moon and the stars as the only witnesses.

 

Later, the two boys lay side by side, hands clasped, with the walkman- placed between their heads- blasting music through Mike’s headphones. The warmth of the day has begun to subside.

“No, that one is Pisces. Good guess, though,” Will offers, giving Mike’s hand a squeeze.

“What? ‘Mountain’ is not even close to that. That was not a good guess,” Mike laughs.

Will’s stifled laugh escapes his lips. God, I love that sound.

“Yeah. That was a pretty lame guess,” Will admits. “But you had the general shape going for you. This one is Andromeda.” Will points, and Mike tries to follow his fingers, squinting at the stars. He tries desperately to make sense of the brilliant lights above him, but it just looks like a crooked little dipper to him.

“That’s the rock she’s chained to,” Mike watches Will’s fingertips. “And that’s her, kind of dangling… Can you guess what this one is, right by her?”

“Uh,” Mike stammers. “Square with a pointy top?”

This makes Will turn toward him, an incredulous look on his face. “That is not a square, dude. Watch my fingers.”

Mike watches, remembering their taste.

“Okay,” Mike relents, “square with pointy top, triangle foot, and thin arms. Wait…” A beat. “That’s me! It’s the Mike Wheeler constellation!”

Will doubles over in laughter, curling into Mike’s side. “Oh my fucking God. I can’t believe you.”

Mike smiles at Will’s warmth on his chest. He moves the walkman to make space for Will to relax, using his right arm to pull him in close. When Will’s body finally relaxes, free from its fit of laughter, Mike turns his head into his hair, breathing that sweet smell once more.

“I love your scent.” The words escape his mouth before he can think about them.

Will looks up, surprised by the comment. “What do I smell like?”

Mike thinks, chewing his lip. “Mm, it’s kind of hard to describe. You smell like your bedsheets.”

He watches Will’s face flush. “You… you know what my sheets smell like?”

“Well- I mean- I guess- um,” Mike falters, bringing a nervous hand to his forehead. “Uh, yeah. I guess I… I do. I know what your bed smells like. Because… I’ve… smelled it… when- like, maybe when you weren’t there…” Mike bites down on his lip, sparing a glance at Will.

Where he thought he’d see disgust or contempt, he finds none. Instead, Will’s eyes are curious, inviting.

“Is that weird?” Mike asks, wanting more reassurance.

“No.” Will says, eyes glossy. “I think it’s sweet.” He leans up, gifting Mike a gentle kiss. “But that’s not really an answer.”

Mike huffs a laugh. “Okay. Umm… it’s like. Citrusy sometimes. Mostly… earthy? I made my mom buy me this perfume- cologne, I mean- called Musk- which I hadn’t heard of really, but it’s pretty close to your scent-”

Mike is cut off by another kiss from Will. His eyes wide with surprise, he sees a tear slip from Will’s eye, watches his brows furrow. He can feel the intensity of this kiss and wonders what he said to deserve this. Closing his eyes, he accepts the kiss, the walkman an echo of noise behind them, the stars wide and expansive above them.

He thinks of all the things he loves about Will: the forest of his eyes, soft earth of his hair, his pale pink cheeks, those rose petal lips, his steady hands, of course his full, muscular body, but also his art, the music he listens to, their silent communication, all of their memories- joy and loyalty entwined with guilt and horror- and considers why it took him so long to come to the realization. But it doesn’t matter now.

I love you now, you’re mine now, I get to kiss you now, and that’s all that matters to me. Can you accept that? Accept that I forgive you, for all of it, because we wound up here?

Will’s words swarm his mind, warming his body.

Now, Will pulls back from the kiss, eyes tinged with red.

Mike smiles at him. Then, Will settles back into Mike and the grass.

“It’s Perseus,” he whispers into the night.

“Hm?”

“The constellation. It’s Perseus. He’s the one that saves Andromeda. From the rock.”

Mike considers this. “I like Mike Wheeler better.”

Will chuckles. “Yeah. I like Mike Wheeler, too.”

Chapter Text

Back at home, the boys quietly park their bikes.

“The lights are off. That’s a good sign,” Will offers.

“Yeah… look, when we get inside, just hurry up to my room, okay? If someone is awake then it’s better if they only see me.”

Mike opens the door tentatively, poking his head inside before stepping in. When he doesn’t see any movement, he opens the door fully, ushering Will inside. Will rushes up the stairs, Mike trailing behind him. Turning the corner of the stairs, they bump into someone.

Nancy looks down at them. Bewilderment, anger, worry, and fear passes through her eyes in the span of one second.

“Jesus, Michael!” She hisses.

“What are you so dressed up for? It’s like eleven at night,” Mike retorts, noting the blush on her cheek and bag in her hand.

“What are you doing getting home this late? There’s a curfew!”

“Says you! No one listens to that curfew anyways.”

“Just- shut up!” Nancy looks up the stairs, hearing a noise from her parents’ room, then back down at Mike. Will stands awkwardly between them. “Okay. You go up, I go down, and we don’t have to talk about it to each other or Mom and Dad. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mike agrees. Mike pushes at Will’s back to hurry him up, and Will swats at his hand while he climbs the last few steps. Mike shuts the door to his room, letting out a long, slow sigh.

“Geez,” Will sits at Mike’s desk, unpacking in his backpack. “Do you think she…suspects anything?”

“Nance? About us? No way.” Mike says this, but then his brain starts turning, going over their interactions with her. A seed of fear takes root in his chest- a pebble sinking into his heart. Afraid of what this feeling means for their relationship, Mike does what he does best: ignore, deflect, turn away. “So… nice thinking on bringing Fireball Island. Lucas was pretty jazzed about that,” he comments as Will pulls the game out of his bag.

Will nods. “Yeah, I didn’t know if he’d be in the mood, but it turned out okay.”

“Better than okay. You’re amazing, Will. You’re always thinking of others. I really admire that about you.”

Will straightens, pausing to glance at Mike. “Yeah?”

Mike gives him a small smile. “Yeah.”

“What else do you like about me?” Will asks casually, turning back to the contents of his bag.

“Hmm… it’d be easier to list the things I don’t like about you.”

“What a cop-out.”

Mike scoffs. “It’s not a cop-out! It’s true! I can’t even think of one thing I dislike about you right now.”

Will pulls out the scrap papers from their first date at the lake.

“What are those for, anyway?” Mike asks.

“An activity. Don’t change the subject. I want to hear what you like about me.” Will, having emptied his pack, faces Mike now, expectant.

I don’t just like things about you. I love you. I love your hair, your beautiful face, your gorgeous body, your scent, your smile, your laugh… God, your laugh. I love the faces you made tonight underneath the stars- underneath me. I love kissing your skin, your lips, your head. I love your taste. I love hearing you whine, love feeling you squirm. I love when you’re on top- the weight of you grounding me to the moment. I love the feel of your mouth on my body. I love-

“Is it that hard to think of something?” Will jokes, making Mike realize he’s just been staring at Will open-mouthed and practically panting.

“No, just hard to choose. Let’s see… I like your drawings. I like the way you draw me. I like how you care for others. I like the music you show me. I like being around you. I like how you make me feel.” As Mike speaks, he walks slowly toward Will. “I like your hair and your eyes. Your arms… God, your arms.” Having made it to Will, Mike places his hands on Will’s shoulders. Will looks up at him with those wonderful eyes, and Mike can’t tear away his gaze. Enough beauty to fill entire galaxies.

“Do you want to hear more, love? Or is that sufficient for you,” Mike teases.

“I could listen to your voice all day, Mike. Especially if it is speaking of such things.” Will smiles and rests his head on Mike’s stomach.

Back in this position again. I love him here. Right here.

“I like when you touch me,” Mike whispers, barely audible.

“Hmm,” Will coos. His elbows rest on his knees, hands loosely touching the back of Mike’s thighs.

The ghost of touch isn’t enough for Mike. He squeezes Will’s shoulders, begging for more. Will tightens his grip, running his hands up and down slowly. Mike’s heart skips. His mind races.

Will speaks, a whisper against his midriff. “I like when you touch me, too.”

Mike exhales.

“And I like touching you,” Will adds.

Mike needs to calm down. Everything about tonight has been too exciting. Will is so close to him, his hands and mouth so close to where he wants them. Will doesn’t want that right now. Calm down.

“So, what’s the activity? With the paper?” He croaks.

“Oh,” Will lifts his head off of Mike. “It’s kind of dumb…” His gaze rests on the desk, considering if he should say more. To Mike’s delight and torment, Will’s hands remain on his thighs.

Am I breathing too heavily? Am I even breathing? Oh my God, Michael, focus on anything but Will’s hands.

Will’s thumbs caress Mike carelessly.

“If it’s your idea, then it’s not dumb. I’m all ears.” I’m all yours.

Will huffs. “It’s just not very creative. I was just going to have you write prompts for me to draw. Or, have you write a scene from one of our sessions, and I could draw the same scene.” His fingers continue their torturous rhythm.

Mike tries to steady his breathing. “That sounds good. Fun. We should do it. Let’s do it.”

Will brings a hand to his hair, brushing it back. Golden. Syrup. Sunlight. William…

“Alright,” Will says, looking back up at Mike. Forest. Lake. Blankets. “Which one sounds better to you?”

Oh William and your infinite beauty. How you torment me. Please keep looking at me like this, forever.

“How about I give you prompts?”

“Okay,” Will smiles, striking Mike right through the heart. “Awesome. That’s the one I wanted to do, too.” He hands Mike a paper and pencil. “Take your time in thinking of one.” Mike takes the supplies and flops down on his bed. “I’m very patient,” Will teases.

Mike sticks his tongue out at him, then turns to the page. What do I want Will to draw… Us? From tonight? He smirks at the thought.

Mike scribbles on the page. Then erases furiously, rewriting another prompt. He stares at the paper, unable to think of anything other than Will’s weight against him, their lips together, Will’s hands all over him.

“You done?” Will asks, holding his hand out for the paper.

Mike erases once more. Then, he hands over the paper. Will scoffs. Mike watches as he grabs a pencil and starts sketching. He’s admiring the shape of him bent over the page, the muscles in his hands flexing. His gaze wanders downward to Will’s legs: perfect, slightly tanned, no longer scrawny. His foot taps against the chair, an uneven rhythm that somehow soothes Mike. His gaze flickers upwards, lingering over his waist. Mike imagines holding Will’s hips, imagines his body flush with his own…

Mike forces his eyes up again, and they land on Will’s shoulders: steady, strong. He imagines himself wrapped in those arms, tucked safely between his shoulders. Warm and enveloped in Will’s scent. Now, Mike beholds Will’s face: eyebrows furrowed in concentration, eyes flitting across the page. God, he’s beautiful.

Will makes a finishing touch, then turns to Mike. A smile tugs on Will’s lips, and he stands to walk toward the bed. His hand reaches out, closing Mike’s mouth.

“Guppy,” Will teases, leaning down for a kiss. “Here’s your drawing. Want to give me a real prompt now?”

Mike looks at the paper, laughing. “Oh my God,” he snorts, “this is golden.” The drawing depicts a black lab wearing a flannel, a band tee, and high top converse. The prompt above the drawing, in Mike’s messy handwriting states: me as a dog. “I lo-ove it,” Mike drawls, holding the paper to his chest. “You’ve captured my likeness to perfection.”

Will laughs and gently shoves Mike. Mike falls dramatically on the bed, one hand splayed on his forehead.

“I’ve been wounded!” Mike states. “Cleric! Heal me!”

Will drops his knees onto the bed, his hands spread out above Mike’s chest. “Come back to me, my paladin!”

“Bleh! Blood! Guts! Gore!” Mike’s hands motion guts spilling out of his belly.

“No-o, my beloved!” Will grabs Mike’s hands and presses them against his stomach. “Stay with me,” he breathes. He looks into Mike’s eyes then, and the joke falls away like autumn leaves.

“Always,” Mike promises, turning his hands to clasp Will’s. “Always.”

Will’s eyes shine.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” Mike says. Will nods once. “I won’t make you wait again.” Mike watches a tear slip down Will’s cheek and reaches up to wipe it away. As if you could wipe away all of the pain you’ve caused. Idiot.

“I’m yours,” Mike whispers. Will leans down to embrace Mike, letting his tears sink into Mike's pillowcase.

 

Mike stirs. His lamp is still on across the room. His leg is asleep. There is a weight on his chest. He looks down and, seeing Will’s hair, recalls how they fell asleep: Mike holding Will close, chest to chest, their legs entwined. The last thing he wants to do is wake him up. But his leg is starting to hurt- it’s trapped underneath Will. He removes one of his arms from Will’s back to try and free his leg. As he does, Will stirs awake as well, grumbling.

“Mmnnn…”

“Sorry, love, sorry… my leg is dead asleep.” We wiggles it away, patting it to try and gain some feeling again. “We might have to amputate it,” he whispers.

Will offers him a sleepy smile, turning his head to look up at him. He makes a chopping motion with one of his hands. Mike smiles back. I love you.

“We should probably get ready for bed, huh?” Mike suggests.

“I’m’n bed ‘lready,” Will slurs. “You’re s’comfy.”

Mike chuckles lightly. “I wish I could keep holding you like this,” Mike says, “but I am losing feeling… like, everywhere.”

“S’you’re sayin’... I’m too much to handle?” Will responds, lifting his head now, palms crossed over Mike’s sternum.

Mike squints his eyes. “No, not at all… just that… yeah. Okay. I’m dying. Release me,” Mike relents.

Will laughs, rolling off of him.

“Come on, let’s brush our teeth.” Mike stands, smacking his leg.

Will sticks his arms out and Mike grabs hold, pulling him up. Will slumps onto Mike.

“Babe, oh my god,” Mike exclaims, barely catching him with his leg still starry. Will straightens, suddenly awake.

“What? You okay?” Mike asks, concerned. Will has a strange look on his face. “What is it?” Mike presses.

“Babe?” Will asks slowly.

Mike blushes. “Did I call you that? Uh, I mean - is that okay?”

Will nods, a grin breaking through. “Yeah, I think that’s okay.”

Mike exhales. “Cool.”

“Cool.”

Mike gives him a small shove. They walk silently to the bathroom and Mike wets his toothbrush. They brush their teeth, catching each other’s eyes in the mirror and making faces. Mike finds himself staring as Will spits and quickly averts his gaze. Will opens the top drawer, grabbing Mike’s comb.

“Wait,” Mike whispers, toothbrush still hanging out of his mouth. Will pauses, watching him in the mirror. “Can… I do it?”

Will nods, a small smile resting on his lips.

Mike spits out his toothpaste and rinses his toothbrush, then grabs the comb from Will’s hand. He moves behind Will, noting how perfectly their heights align, his head just above Will’s. He slowly brings the comb up to Will’s hair, his other hand resting on the sink, pressing his body close to Will. He looks at Will through the mirror as he begins to brush his hair.

He starts at the front, brushing his bangs down. Then, using the comb to brush his hair to the side, Mike nibbles his ear. He can feel the goose flesh rise on Will’s arms. He pauses combing to kiss Will’s neck- soft and gentle, asking for nothing in return. When Mike looks back up, he sees that Will’s eyes are closed.

Mike focuses on Will’s hair now, watching it ripple beneath the comb. He loves this hair. He loves Will. He loves this. Done brushing, he dips his face forward, nose on Will’s cowlick. Orange peel. Bedsheets. Home. Mike brings his arms around Will, enveloping him. Will’s hands reach up to hold onto Mike’s forearms. The two sway gently, sleep creeping up on them.

“Mm,” Will hums, “back to bed?”

Mike nods into his hair. “Alright, love.”

Chapter Text

Mike wakes up in Will’s arms. He is facing the window and blinks rapidly, trying to get used to the light. He looks down, seeing that Will’s arm- the one his head rests on- wraps around his chest, holding him tight. Will’s other arm rests along Mike’s hip. Their legs are stacked on each other. I could get used to this. Mike breathes deeply, letting out a contented sigh.

He stays there, eyes gazing on the sunlight from the window, happily recalling the events from last night. How Will’s hand felt in his, laying there in the grass. The constellations Will had pointed out to him. Their silent bike rides, cool wind and racing hearts. His stomach drops remembering their encounter with Nancy. Will she ask him what he was doing out so late with Will? Is it obvious? His love for Will? Would others notice? Does his mom know? Why would she bring it up if she didn’t see it?

Then he remembers falling asleep holding Will, waking up and combing his hair, and now this. How perfect this would all be if one of them was a girl.

Will’s palm grips Mike’s shirt. Mike feels a slow, soft kiss on the nape of his neck. He turns, facing Will. Will’s eyes meet his, hazy with sleep. Mike smiles and leans forward to kiss his perfect nose.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Mike says.

“Mmm.” Will closes his eyes again and lowers himself to be face to face with Mike, shifting his arms. “Hi,” he whispers back.

Mike smiles. To see Will this way- half asleep, wearing Mike’s pyjamas, hair messy- God, he really could get used to this. Mike brings his hands up to Will’s hair and combs it with his fingers.

“I think we’re up first. I haven’t heard anyone downstairs.”

Will snorts. “First time for everything, I guess.”

“Maybe… do you wanna go down to the basement? Make it look… like you weren’t up here with me?”

Will opens his eyes again. Any trace of his smile has vanished. He’s guarded. “I… can. Just- Jonathan will know either way.”

Mike feels his eyebrows twitch. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Um. Okay. I was just thinking… I guess I wondered if it would look suspicious, you staying up here two nights in a row.” He winces. He hates that he’s worried about this. But he is.

Will’s face remains blank, but Mike thinks he can see pain in his eyes. “I think it would look more suspicious if we try to deny that I was up here, especially if Jonathan knows I was. I mean, he would cover for me, but then-”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Mike attempts to laugh lightly to ease the tension, but it comes out nervous. He looks down at his hands. He didn’t realize he’d been picking at his fingernails.

Will sits up, crawling out of the bed. The absence of his warmth makes Mike’s chest concave, wishing he’d never said anything, and Will was back beside him. Mike turns, watching Will change out of his pyjama pants and grab his things.

“I’ll go downstairs now and change. Maybe no one will notice or say anything. But I’m not going to lie to Jonathan. There’s no point.” Will says, his voice dangerously even.

“Okay,” Mike says. You stupid fuck up. Why did you open your mouth? Will’s hand is on the door knob. “Will?”

Will looks back, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Um, my flannel. You’re still wearing it…” Will deflates, pausing to take off the shirt, then leaving without looking back at Mike.

I don’t deserve Will. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Mike turns to face the wall again, blocking out the sunlight, and lets his silenced sobs wrack his body.

 

When Mike heads downstairs a few hours later, Will isn’t there. He tries to hide the way his eyes scour each room for him as he makes his way to the kitchen.

Nancy watches him from the table, her gaze accusatory. As if daring him to say anything about last night.

“Good morning to you, my wonderful older sister whom I love and appreciate so deeply,” Mike exaggerates, one hand over his heart. She glares at him.

“Hi,” she states simply.

“Ah, some eggs for breakfast I see,” Mike continues, “scrambled.” Mike feigns a smile, as if his mind were here in this room, teasing Nancy, and not wondering where Will is, how badly his comments hurt him, if there was any way for him to apologize, and if they could continue being boyfriends. If he’s just fucked this up, it will have been the quickest, most heart wrenching relationship ever. They’ve been together for one day. And yet, despite Mike’s fear, all he can think of is Will.

Just then, Mike hears footsteps from the basement. His shoulders perk up. No, they’re too heavy. Mike deflates once more, knowing it’s Jonathan coming upstairs. Still, his eyes wander towards the steps, and he catches Jonathan’s eyes as he enters the kitchen. Mike offers a half-hearted wave. Jonathan nods once to Mike, quickly turning his attention to Nancy.

Mike turns to the fridge, taking a deep breath. He pours himself a bowl of cereal, repeating his own words in his head.

Make it look… like you weren’t up here with me?

I wondered if it would look suspicious, you staying up here two nights in a row.

Fucking idiot.

So what if Will stayed with Mike two nights in a row? They’ve had sleepovers since they were in kindergarten. Why would anyone find it suspicious? Because now we’re teenagers. Because Nancy saw us coming home after eleven at night, alone.

When Holly grabs an apple from the fruit bowl, Mike realizes he’s been staring at the oranges there. Orange peel. Will. Mike huffs, bringing the bowl to his lips to finish off the fruity pebble flavored milk.

Nancy and Jonathan leave for the day, leaving Mike alone with his mom and Holly. Mike watches the two play, reminiscing. Holly has handed a doll to his mom, who joins in on Holly’s game happily, over-enunciating a southern drawl for her character. He watches, remembering the times his mom played with him and his action figures. How she read comics to him, side by side on his bed before sleep, when he was sick, or on boring weekends. His heart swells, a sudden gratitude for his mother overwhelming him. He remembers how she held him after that night at the quarry, watching who he thought was Will be dragged out of the water. How she comforted him when he felt he was going crazy looking for him. But also, he remembers the minute, random details of her love. Like how she used to hum as she combed his hair. The way her hands felt styling his curls. How she would sing ’Happy Birthday’ beside him while he brushed his teeth, just to make sure he brushed for long enough. Every meal she had made that nourished him. Her careful selection of clothes each morning of elementary, ensuring that he would never be too cold. She has always been there for him. So… won’t she be there for me no matter what? No matter… who?

Mike shakes his head, letting the idea fall to the floor, eyes downcast. No, he deserves this isolation and pain. No one could love him as he is. Other than Will…

Mike stands from the table, bringing his bowl to the sink to rinse it. Then, he grabs an orange from the fruit bowl, heading for the basement. As he stomps down the stairs, his fingers gingerly peel the orange. The scent only makes him ache for Will harder.

He pauses about halfway down the steps, realizing he should have knocked. He knocks tentatively on the rail, now, peering down to find Will.

He is seated at their old dnd table, sketchbook open, pencil in hand. Will looks up at the sound, holding Mike’s gaze for a beat. Then he looks back down to his drawing without acknowledging Mike.

Mike’s hands return to peeling the orange as he resumes his descent, slower now. “Hey…” he starts. When he reaches the table, Will subtly covers his drawing by resting his left arm on the page.

Will looks up. “Yes?”

Mike can feel the anger radiating off of Will’s glare. “I’m-” I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. Please forgive me. You’re the only thing good about me. Mike gulps. “I brought you this.” He sticks his hand out, the freshly peeled orange an offering.

Will frowns, but takes the orange, halving it. “Okay.” They hold each other’s gaze. Will slowly brings a slice to his mouth, placing it on his tongue as if to torture Mike. He continues this slow torment as Mike watches, mouth hanging open in awe. Here Mike was, coming to apologize, and Will is making it so hard for him to even think. Will stands now, still staring down Mike. In one hand, he holds half of the orange. He brings his other palm up to Mike’s chin, closing his mouth. “Anything else you wanted?” Will asks, a slight edge to his voice, “Guppy?”

Mike knows that Will is upset at him. And yet, this comment, that nickname, the warmth of Will’s hand on his face, and the intense eye contact is making Mike squirm.

“Mm,” he manages. “Yes…”

Mike holds Will’s gaze. His heart is racing, he swears he can feel his pulse on his tongue. “William,” he starts. His voice fails, breaths hitching. The way Will is looking at him right now…

“Yes, Michael?” Will prompts.

“I’m sorry. For what I said this morning.”

Will seems pleased by this, but continues glaring. Though Will is a head shorter than him, Mike is intimidated. “And?” Will cocks an eyebrow.

“And…” Mike’s gaze drops to Will’s lips. Why am I so turned on right now? What the fuck is wrong with me? Will tightens his grip on Mike’s jaw, making Mike look back up. “And it won’t happen again.”

Will releases Mike’s chin, satisfied. Mike stares as Will sits back down at the table, returning to his drawing.

What the fuck even just happened?

Mike walks to the chair opposite Will, placing his hand on the back cushion in question. Will glances at the chair and nods once. Mike sits, blood still pumping. He has to fill the silence with something other than his wandering mind.

“So… what are you drawing?”

Will shrugs.

“Okay,” Mike states. His mind is still racing with their interaction. Why… what… “Can I see?”

Will looks up then, clearly still irritated with Mike. “It’s not done yet. Be patient.” He returns to the page. Mike watches his hand and arm as he draws, noting his forearm is covered in lead. “And close your mouth.”

Mike does, bringing his lips to a thin line. His face is warm. Will turns the uneaten half of the orange in his left hand. He does this absentmindedly, but Mike watches his fingers move with an intense focus. He imagines those fingers on his body. He imagines…

Stop. Will is literally mad at you. Useless, pining idiot.

He remembers Will’s face after he suggested he go down to the basement. The sudden hurt, the immediate shut down. Mike’s heart sinks.

“Will, I’m really sorry. I wish I could be better for you,” Mike admits.

“You can. You can be better for me. And you will be.” Will speaks without looking up from his drawing. Although it’s hard, Mike’s gaze continues to avoid the page, trying to respect Will’s wish.

Mike sighs. “I don’t think I can be… I’m an idiot, I’m self-absorbed, and…” Mike’s confession dies on his lips.

Will waits for a while. When Mike remains silent, he prompts him to continue.

“I’m scared,” Mike whispers, eyes closed, fearing even the admission of this.

There’s a soft click as Will sets his pencil on the table.

His hands reach out, finding Mike’s wrists. Mike looks up, finding Will’s gentle gaze across the table, and he realizes he’s begun to cry. Tears slip down his cheeks, a steady stream. Will’s gaze softens, and he stands, crossing to stand in front of Mike.

Mike tries to catch his breath, his sobs taking over. This fear of being caught, fear of being seen is consuming him. Is his love for Will enough to counteract it?

“Love,” Will’s hands find Mike’s shoulders, steadying him. Mike leans into Will’s torso, clutching the back of his shirt like a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” Mike sputters, “I’m so sorry. I’m a piece of-” a ragged breath, “I don’t deserve you. Just end it.”

“No,” Will whispers, leaning down to kiss Mike’s curls. “I won’t. I’ve only had you for a day. I want you for a lifetime.”

Mike sobs. Will’s hands draw slow circles on Mike’s back, centering him. Eventually, Mike calms down, five years’ worth of shame washing out of him. For now.

On the table lies Will’s drawing: a close up of Mike looking upward, lips parted and swollen, eyes glimmering, curls wild. On his neck, cupping Mike’s face, Will drew his own hands. A promise or a prophecy?

Chapter Text

It’s been two weeks since Will last slept in Mike’s bed. They agreed to limit their same-bedroom sleepovers to reduce Mike’s anxiety of being caught. This, of course, does not solve the bigger issue- tackling Mike’s fear of being outed- but the boys agreed this would work as a temporary solution.

Now, Mike packs a bag full of various items including his toothbrush, his dice, and a change of clothes. He eyes the cologne, cautious. Would it be weird for him to take cologne to a sleepover? Would it seem like he was trying to impress someone? Impress Will? He picks up the bottle, placing it carefully on the top. He’s not trying to impress Will. He just wants to be able to smell him… on his own skin… everywhere he goes. He turns, to see if anything else catches his eye as something he’d like to take to Dustin’s. He decides to grab the latest Superman comic. When his eyes land back on the cologne bottle, he takes it out. What if Dustin or Lucas say it smells like Will? How could Mike explain that? Then he shakes his head, placing it back on the top of his clothes. They don’t know what he smells like. Or don’t care, anyway.

When he heads downstairs, he doesn’t see Will, so he continues down to the basement, knocking on the stair’s railing.

“Down here,” Will answers.

Mike makes it to the last step and pauses there, openly admiring Will. He wears jeans, a colorful striped tee, and his hair hasn’t been combed. He’s bent over his sketchbook. “Hey, pretty,” Mike says.

Will looks up quickly, and instead of the expected smile, Will looks pale. Suddenly, Mike sees Jonathan as he enters from behind him- from the basement’s bathroom. Mike’s eyes widen and he coughs suddenly, pretending to clear his throat. “Heh. Geez, sorry. Little cough in the back of my throat.” Mike gestures to his neck, then the air, trying to play it off. “Anyway… pretty… much done yet? The guys are waiting on us.”

Will’s face is stoic as Jonathan glances between the two.

“Yeah,” Will says, filling the silence, “I was just sketching while waiting for you,” Will stuffs his sketchbook into his bag and smiles sheepishly at Jonathan when he crosses the room to the couch. “See you later, Jon.”

Jonathan gives him a warm smile. “See ya. Have a good time at Dustin’s.”

“I will. Have a good time having your own room for a night.” Will laughs lightly as he heads for the stairs. When they are out of view of Jonathan, Will shoots Mike a look.

That was close!

Mike shrugs in response, eyes wide. I had no idea he was downstairs!

Will rolls his eyes, turning toward the door and opening it. You also didn’t check first.

The two head to the garage for their bikes. Mike’s walkie is latched to his belt. The two begin their bike ride in silence. When Mike feels they’re far enough from their gossiping neighbors, he speaks up.

“So… movie night. You excited?”

Will glances to his side and sees Mike smiling, eyes dark and shimmering. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” Mike says, returning his gaze to the road. There’s a beat of silence as Mike gathers courage. “So, I was thinking… we could put our sleeping bags next to each other…”

Will snorts. “Yeah? Maybe hold hands in the dark?”

Mike’s eyebrows suggest yes! before he catches Will’s sarcasm. He frowns. “Well… during the movie, why not? The guys won’t notice.” Will continues to stare at Mike, chewing his cheek. Mike looks at him. “What?”

“You keep doing this.”

“Doing what? Suggest that we hang out? Plan dates?”

“No. You know what.”

“I don’t. Enlighten me, Will the wise.”

Will rolls his eyes and looks forward. There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks. “Going back and forth. Sending me mixed signals. You don’t want to get caught. Okay- so we won’t be affectionate around others. Now you’re calling me pretty in front of my brother and asking to hold hands and cuddle at Dustin’s?”

“I didn’t say ‘cuddle.’ And I didn’t know Jonathan was there!”

Will continues without acknowledging Mike’s interruption. “It’s just like- pick one or the other. If I have to hide to be with you, I can handle that. I’ve hidden my whole life. But to turn around and ask to be sneaky? Right under our best friends’ noses?”

“It’s not-”

“And my brother? I won’t do it. I hate the way this makes me feel.” Will shakes his head, exasperated. Mike notes his grip on the bike handles has tightened.

“How does it make you feel? Can you place it?” Mike asks. Softer, now.

Will senses his sincerity and takes a moment to think. “I dislike lying. So do you. And this… feels like lying. It is lying.”

Mike frowns. He hadn’t thought of it that way. He doesn’t like thinking of them this way. “But-” Mike stops. How can he explain himself right now?

Will waits.

“But,” Mike continues, “this is the most honest I’ve been with you- with myself- since… I don’t even know. Since I grew up? Since Troy…” Mike pauses. He can’t remember if he’s told Will about the time he pushed Troy down for what he’d said about him. He glances at Will and sees that he’s watching him closely. “You and I are… this isn’t lying. This is the most real relationship I’ve- I’ve allowed myself to have. How I feel about you- that isn’t a lie. It’s just scary.”

Will looks down, hurt.

Mike reaches a hand out to Will’s elbow, braking slowly. Will follows suit, pausing with Mike in the middle of the road. The sun has begun to set: orange and purple tonight. Clouds hang low and fluffy and white. Insects sing, birds chirp. Trees sway in the slight breeze, whistling a tune of their own. Swing sets whine, distant children laugh. Amidst all this beauty sit Mike’s feelings, complicated and heavy between the two boys.

“I’m sorry. I’m no good at this,” Mike starts.

Will is silent. His eyes dare Mike to try anyway.

“I-” Mike runs a hand through his hair, pulling a handful in frustration. “I just- don’t say that this is a lie. Please? How I feel about you… this is real. It’s honest. I’m just not ready yet to… to face others. That’s what’s scary: others. But you-” Mike laughs suddenly, surprising Will. “You’re all I think about. Okay? I want to hold your hand at Dustin’s. I want to sleep beside you. You bring me a peace no one else can.”

Will’s gaze has softened. Mike continues. “You’re pretty, so I tell you so. I’m sorry for not checking if we were alone. Especially since I’m the reason…” Mike sighs, eyes downcast. “I’m the reason we have to hide.” At this admission, a weight seems to have been placed on Mike’s shoulders. Would Will still keep this as a secret if it wasn’t for Mike? Is Mike the reason Will feels like he has to lie? It somehow hadn’t occurred to him. So selfish.

Will’s hand covers Mike’s, steadying him. “Hey.” Will’s voice, smooth as honeyed butter. That voice could coax anything out of Mike. Could ease his spiraling mind. Could silence unwelcome thoughts. When Mike doesn’t look up, Will squeezes his hand. “Hey,” he repeats, more pressing.

Mike’s head remains down, but his eyes search upward for Will, seeking comfort. He finds it. In Will’s gentle green eyes- dark today, like pine, with flecks of golden sunlight; his slight smile; his warm, rosied cheeks; his mousy brown hair- touseled, still uncombed; in the solid set of his shoulders, his tee taut against his biceps; in his eyebrows, risen in question, asking, are you here with me right now? Come back to me.

Will raises his forefinger up to wipe the tear Mike wasn’t aware of. Into the music of the sunset, Will whispers, “come back to me, love.”

Mike raises his head, overcome with the beauty and tragedy of the moment. Tears spilling, he steps off his bike, letting it clatter to the asphalt, and steps toward Will, enveloping him in a hug. As he cries quietly, he whispers apologies into Will’s hair.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you feel this way. Never meant to be a burden on you. Only wanted to love you.

A crackle sounds from Mike’s hip, startling the boys apart.

“Copy? Wheeler-- nearly seven thirty-- mom’s gonna-- better get here fast– eating all the pizza– start the movie without–”

Mike grabs his walkie and pulls up the antenna. “Dustin? This is Mike and Will. We copy.”

“Jesus, finally!” Dustin’s voice crackles through. “I thought we agreed on seven! Are you guys going to be here anytime soon? Lucas has eaten half of the pizza already-”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be there in, like, five.” Mike pauses, looking at Will. Will nods, but Mike senses sadness in his gaze. “Maybe ten,” he corrects.

“God, Wheeler, you’re ki-illing me-e!”

Mike frowns, about to push down the antenna, when he hears shuffling, and then Lucas’ voice: “Michael Wheeler you better hurry your ass up. I know it’s not Will’s fault, man. We got a movie to watch!! Come on-n!”

Will laughs, grabbing Mike’s walkie. “Don’t worry, Lucas, we’ll be there in five.”

“Tha-ank you! Hi, Will!” Lucas laughs on the other end. Will smiles, pushing down the antenna and fastening the device back onto Mike’s belt. Mike flushes at their proximity. Will mounts his bike, about to leave, when Mike grabs his elbow again.

“Wait.”

“Mike, we’re late.”

“But-”

“Like, really late.”

“Will, please.”

Will pauses, looking at Mike. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No sorries-”

“No, I am. I’m sorry for being such a fucking mess you feel like you have to lie. I’m sorry for asking you to hold hands. But…”

“But?”

“Maybe, if we shared a blanket-”

“Oh, my god, Michael,” Will laughs. “Pick up your bike. Come on.”

He does, and as they resume their ride to Dustin’s, Mike wonders at every possible way he can stay close to Will tonight.

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.