Chapter Text
The Party is at the table, still sniffling and wiping dry tears off their faces. Karen doesn't push. She almost glides around the table, making sure everyone gets their plates and utensils. Lucas is talking to Dustin, who keeps glancing over to Jane from across the table, only registering half of Lucas' words. Max is pressed up to her boyfriend's shoulder, expression both relaxed and tired. She laughs when Jane tells her something. Will is leaning forward, face propped up on his hand. He's looking at his plate with a weak smile on his face. Just taking in the laughter and conversations around him.
Mike joins last, trying to sneakily wipe the tear remnants from his cheeks. He sniffs and drops on the empty seat next to Will, as always. These have been their assigned seats since they were kids. Will turns to him and gives him a smile. The look in his eyes is asking 'are you okay?' without actually saying it. Mike smiles back. It's thin, a little strained, but it's good enough for Will.
They slowly forget about the tears they shed in the basement, and just enjoy the delicious food and each other's company. Jane compliments the lasagna over and over, curious about every ingredient. She settles down whenever she catches Dustin's glances, smiling with flushed cheeks.
Lucas tries feeding Max over and over, earning groans from everyone else. It continues until Max pinches Lucas in the ribs, which made him nearly drop his fork. Mike is laughing along, lightly smiling, but it's clearly not fully genuine. At least it's clear to Will. He keeps glancing over to him, lightly bumping him in the shoulder with his own, checking in without pushing. Mike just gives a weak nod every time.
They stayed in the kitchen for a little while, even after they were done eating. The conversation shifted to colleges, jobs, future plans. Everyone is listing their options, giving each other advice on which one sounds better, already planning future meet ups. Everyone but Mike. He's unusually quiet, barely participating. They know he doesn't want to leave Hawkins yet, so they're not pushing.
"And are you gonna stay with Jonathan?" Lucas asks Will, finishing his orange juice.
"Probably, yeah. At least at first," Will shrugs. "I'm gonna look for a dorm or an apartment as soon as I can."
"Independent," Jane adds, and gets a nod in response.
"What time is it?" Max peels her face away from Lucas' shoulder and looks at the window. The bright sun from earlier has changed into a soft orange glow.
"Six thirty four," Dustin looks at his watch. He raises his eyebrows and looks at the Party.
They all exchange glances, not saying anything for a little while. Dustin raises his eyebrows more, mouth stretching into an exaggerated frown.
"Anyone still down to party?" he asks carefully, like he's approaching a feral animal.
"Did Stacey give us the time?" Will asks, glance jumping from Dustin to Lucas.
"We can still make it," Lucas adds, lightly shrugging.
"I'm down," Dustin raises his hand high in the air, leaning back in his chair.
"Me, too," Jane follows, raising her arm just as high. Dustin gives her a wide smile.
"Fuck it," Max adds after exchanging a glance with Lucas. They both raise their hands, but not as high.
Everyone looks at Will, which makes him freeze for a second from all the attention suddenly pointed to just him. He thinks about it for a second, then shrugs.
"Sure," he raises his hand and immediately looks over to Mike.
Mike is looking at the table, fixated on a specific crack in the wood. He has been pretty tuned out of the conversation. When the room goes completely silent, he looks up, only to see everyone else's eyes locked on him. He scans the room, stops at Will's raised hand.
"Are you coming or not?" Dustin asks when Mike doesn't say anything. Mike looks at him, confused. "The party?"
"Oh," Mike slumps back a bit. He exhales through his nose, long and tired, and rubs the back of his neck nervously. After a brief pause he shrugs. "I'll think about it."
"Well, you have about three hours to 'think about it'," Dustin makes air quotes with his fingers and gets up from his chair.
Everyone else follows, chair legs scraping against the floor. The conversation flows again, this time discussing what time they should meet at, how long they should stay, what to bring, if anything. Max agrees to meet with Jane at Dustin's house. Dustin will help her tame her curls, while Max takes care of her makeup.
"Steve could pick us up," Dustin ponders. Then a light bulb flicks on in his brain, and he nearly jumps up. He snaps his fingers and points at Lucas dramatically. "He can get us beer."
"Wouldn't that be, like, illegal?" Max says, one eyebrow raised. She's done putting her shoes on, leaning on the wall.
"Steve never says 'no' to Dustin," Lucas adds, now also done putting his shoes on, straightening up.
"I just feel like we have to bring something. Party etiquette," Dustin continues.
While still rambling, he opens the front door. Lucas and Max are about to walk through, until Dustin puts his palm out, stopping them in their tracks. He looks over to Jane, does a gentleman stance and lets her walk through, smiling. She gives him a sweet 'thank you'. He follows immediately after her, letting the front door close.
Lucas catches it before it hits the wall with an annoyed sigh. He opens it again, lets Max walk out first and they mumble something to each other, both endeared and annoyed. Before leaving, Lucas turns around and looks at the staircase, where Will was still standing.
"You coming, man?" Lucas asks.
"Just go. See you later," Will waves at him and smiles.
Lucas stays there for a second, quiet. He then nods more to himself than anyone else and finally leaves.
Will stands still for a while, taking in the house. After last year the Wheelers had to do a lot of renovations. Karen decided to give it a complete makeover while they were at it, getting rid of the outdated furniture and replacing it with something new, something unfamiliar. The basement stayed untouched, luckily.
He turns to the living room couch, where Mike was. He's sinking into the leather cushions, shoulders tense, face blank. Will walks over and drops down next to him, lightly brushing his knee with his own. Mike nudges him back.
"You okay?" Will asks quietly.
"Yeah," Mike answers quickly, voice much higher than usual. "Yeah. Totally okay. Just tired."
"You sure?" Will isn't convinced. He gets a weak nod in response. "Are you gonna go to the party?"
"I don't know," Mike mumbles and shrugs, like a little kid. Will can almost see him pout. "I don't really go to parties."
"Me neither. Or any of us, really," Will laughs. He starts picking at a loose thread of the cushion. "But we got an invite. An actual invite. From Stacey."
"Yeah," Mike nods along. His tone is a bit sarcastic. "From Stacey."
"It could be fun," Will turns towards Mike, but he's looking somewhere at the floor.
Will takes in his side profile. The slope of his nose, the dark eyes and eyebrows, sharp jawline, lips he keeps chewing on nervously, little freckles scattered across his cheeks. Will has all these details memorized by this point, captured in his sketchbook many times, but he can't help but look whenever he gets a chance to.
Mike thinks it over for a long second. He's fidgeting with his hands, chewing on his bottom lip, weighing out the options. Either stay home and stare at the ceiling like he always does, or go to the stupid party, maybe have a few drinks, listen to loud music for a few hours, then go home and sleep. He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh.
"Fine," he almost groans and rubs his eyes.
"You're coming?" Will's voice is bright again. He sits up slightly to get a better look at Mike's face.
"Yeah," Mike brings his hand down and immediately locks eyes with his friend. He can't stop the smile that spreads on his face, along with the flush of his cheeks. He blames it on the summer heat.
They just stare at each other for a bit, smiling. Their knees are pressed together, thighs almost touching, but radiating heat on one another. Mike relaxes, sinking back into the cushions even more. His eyes involuntarily drop to Will's lips for half a second. He reminds himself to look back up. Something in Will's face shifts, and he gets up from the couch, clearing his throat.
"Well, I uh.. I guess I should go get ready," Will is swinging his arms around nervously, turned away from Mike.
"Yeah. Me, too," Mike breathes out. His shoulders are tense.
"Wear something nice," Will says while pulling his shoes on. One gets stubbornly stuck on his heel.
"Yeah? Like what?" Mike is leaning on the wall next to him, arms crossed. He smirks a little.
Will stands up straight and looks to the side, thinking. He purses his lips, hums to himself, furrows his eyebrows slightly. It lasts a few seconds. Mike takes in every little change in his face. When Will finally decides, he locks eyes with his friend again.
"That blue shirt you have," Will is vaguely gesturing at his own torso, trying to describe a shirt with his hands.
"Which one?" Mike chuckles, tilting his head.
"Oh, god," Will sighs in frustration, trying to find the words. "It has a collar, and stripes all over it. You know which one."
He's still gesturing, trying to describe the collar and the stripes. He can't help but chuckle, too. He can't remember the brand of the shirt or where Mike got it from. 'A blue polo shirt' is not specific enough in Mike Wheeler's case.
Mike watches his every move and feels the tension in his chest going away. They're both giggling, cheeks flush and hot. Mike knows which shirt Will is talking about, but it's fun to watch him scramble and look for better descriptors.
"Okay, I got it. I know which one it is," Mike finally says, and gets a relieved sigh in response.
"Yeah. You could, like, tuck it into your pants," Will gestures that, too. "It will look nice."
"Nice?"
"Really nice," Will nods with a beaming smile, bright green eyes glimmering.
"Okay, I'll wear it," Mike mumbles. Suddenly he can't look into his friend's eyes anymore. He looks at the ground and shifts on his feet. His knees got weak all of a sudden.
"And your hair-"
"What about my hair?" Mike interrupts. His eyes snap back up at Will, and he instinctively brings his hand up to his own hair.
Will doesn't say anything. He just looks at him, face slowly shifting into a guilty expression. His mouth stretches into a line, eyebrows curve upwards, he scrunches his nose and squints a little, tilting his head. Mike knows what it means. He lets out a long sigh.
"It's the side part, isn't it?" Mike mumbles and drops his head, hand still on his own hair.
"Yeah," Will almost whispers.
"Why does everyone hate the side part?" Mike pouts.
"Well, I don't hate it, per se. It's just," his face scrunches again. "Different."
"Different," Mike parrots and slightly nods. He sounds a little hurt.
"But, I mean, it's your hair, so do whatever you want," Will scrambles, barely pausing between words. His cheeks get more red than they already were. Mike gives him a dry laugh.
"And what are you gonna wear?" Mike asks, pulling his hand away from his hair.
Will pauses, thinking again, a little harder this time. His lips stretch into a thin line, he scrunches his nose a little bit. Mike can't help but look again. Will scratches the side of his neck. Mike focuses on the movement.
"I don't know," Will finally answers and shrugs. He leans on the wall, parallel to Mike. "Got any ideas?"
"That striped shirt Jonathan got you," Mike answers almost immediately. He can see Will's eyes widen at the quickness of that answer.
"With the," Will pauses, gesturing at his arms. "With the purple on the sleeves?"
"Yes," Mike nearly interrupts, a little too eager. He clears his throat and continues. "Yeah. I like that one."
"Okay," Will breathes out and nods. His smile is wide, showing off his bunny teeth.
They just look at each other for a bit, in comfortable quiet. Mike feels fully relaxed now, finally. He feels at home. Will always makes him feel like home, even though this past year has been rough. The others seem to be dealing with the effects pretty well, at least on the outside. Mike still has trouble with that part. But with Will it's easier.
"Then.. see you later?" Will breaks the silence, peeling away from the wall and grabbing the doorknob.
"Yeah," Mike breathes out, voice high.
"Cool."
"Cool."
They look at each other for another second, then Will leaves. The dread crawls back into Mike's chest, settling there. He just now realizes that he has to go to a stupid party in a few hours. He really didn't want to go, but how can he say no to Will.
About an hour and a half later Mike's walkie talkie buzzes, and after a few seconds of static Dustin's excited voice comes through. He gave Mike their plan of action.
Be ready by 9:50.
Steve will pick everyone up.
Be ready to go home by 12.
Steve will drive everyone back.
Simple. Easy.
The rest of the time flies by quickly. Mike took a shower, stared at the ceiling for a bit, tried to waste time and distract himself. When he has about 30 minutes left, he starts getting dressed. Without a second thought he pulls out the shirt Will talked about. It's bright blue with stripes, has a collar and a few buttons.
Once Mike puts it on he remembers why he doesn't wear it much. It's the length. It ends just a pinch below his belt, and whenever he moves his shoulders or arms it rides up, revealing the skin on his stomach. His mom bought it for him as a surprise, but she underestimated just how tall he's gotten. It fits perfectly everywhere else, though. The sleeves are a bit loose, it sits comfortably on his shoulders.
He keeps it on, though, despite the discomfort. He buttons it up, and tries to tuck it into his jeans to the best of his ability. It looks fine when he's standing straight, but slips out as soon as he moves. That's gonna be a problem. He could just change into something more comfortable, but he doesn't. He is dead set on wearing this specific shirt.
The hair was another dilemma. Will didn't specify what to do with it, then took his words back completely. But Mike could tell he didn't like it. Will was just trying not to hurt his feelings. A kind soul, as always.
Mike tries smoothing it out with his hands, no gel like he's been doing. It looks dumb. Feels dumb. He combs it to the front, one side, then the other. He's getting annoyed, gripping his bangs harder to let the frustration out somehow. He huffs to himself and just gives up, letting his hair do whatever it wants to.
Mike feels kind of stupid, carefully picking out every piece of clothing, checking himself in the mirror and just not feeling satisfied no matter what he puts on. The shirt slipping out is annoying the hell out of him by this point, and he's completely given up on fixing it. It's tucked in a little bit in the back, and mostly loose at the front.
Time is ticking, and he ends up going with simple black jeans and converse to finish the outfit. Before he can overthink it, a car pulls up into his driveway. As soon as he steps out, a car horn blares out, so loud it probably scared the neighbors. Mike throws his hands up in frustration, speeding up.
"I'm coming!" Mike screams over the sound, getting to the car in a few long strides.
He can hear Steve in the driver seat saying something along the lines of 'stop doing that' and swatting Dustin's hands away from the wheel. Mike opens the back door. Lucas is sitting at the window, Max comfortable on his lap. Jane is in the middle seat, leaning forward slightly, tapping Dustin on the shoulder. When she sees Mike she waves at him. Mike waves back and sits in the remaining seat.
"Alright, just little Byers left," Steve says to himself and pulls out of the Wheeler's driveway.
The car is full of laughter and giddy chats. Jane is both excited and nervous to go to her first party. Dustin is practically sitting backwards in the passenger seat, turned towards Jane, reassuring her. Steve is smirking to himself the whole ride. Lucas and Max are their usual selves. Chatting, gossiping, sometimes going quiet to talk with just their eyes. Mike did catch a few of their glances on him but didn't say anything. He's just looking out the window.
They pull up to the Byers' house shortly after. Will is already on the front porch, Jonathan beside him, shifting on his feet. Dustin reaches over to the wheel again with a mischievous grin.
"Don't you dare," Steve says as he slaps Dustin's hands away.
The Byers brothers come up to the car, talking. It's quiet. Jonathan comes up to the driver's seat, while Will goes to the back door. He opens the one where Lucas and Max are, lets out a startled 'hi', closes it and walks around to the other side of the car. When he opens the door, he immediately locks eyes with Mike. He's wearing the shirt Mike mentioned, along with a necklace. He smells like pine trees.
"Hi," Will breathes out. He looks at Mike, then at Jane and Dustin.
He's a little lost for a second, not sure what to do. Every seat is taken. He and Mike exchange slightly startled glances. Meanwhile in the front Steve is hanging out the window slightly, chatting with Jonathan, smiling widely. He makes a joke, which makes Jon laugh, but he's mostly focused on making sure everyone is safe. Steve reassures him that he will bring his little siblings back right on time.
"How are you guys feeling?" Jonathan says through the window.
"Awesome," Dustin, Jane and Lucas say at the same time. Max gives a thumbs up.
"Let me look at you," Jonathan leans over to look at Jane. There's glittery eyeshadow on her eyelids, lipgloss on her lips, and her hair is curlier than usual. Every strand is laid out perfectly. Jonathan nods proudly. He turns to Dustin. "How did you do that?"
"Special shampoo, conditioner, brushes. Specifically made for curly hair. But the technique is also important. It's a whole process," Dusting stretches his words, emphasizing every one with a gesture. Jonathan listens intently.
"Okay, okay," Steve stops him before he can go on another endless rant and sighs. "Can you do this tomorrow?"
"Okay," Jon lets out a mix of a sigh and laugh. He takes another look at everyone. "Be safe. Have fun, but be safe."
"Is everyone in?" Steve asks and starts the engine back up.
Will is still outside, unsure what to do. The engine roars. Mike scoots back as much as he can, his knees still pressing into Dustin's seat, and he taps on his thigh.
"Just sit here," he whispers, and Will immediately complies.
He carefully sits down on Mike's lap, scooting forward as much as he can. He grips the back of Dustin's seat like his life depends on it, while Mike reaches over and closes the door. Steve pulls out of the driveway.
Stacey's house is a good ten minutes away, in the nicer area of town. The chatter continues. Jane is talking to Lucas and Max. Max fixes any stray hairs on Jane's head. Dustin is rambling to Steve, who's desperately trying to focus on the road. Will and Mike are quiet.
Will is leaning forward, cheek pressed against the head of the passenger seat. Mike is leaning back, hands laying awkwardly at his sides. He can feel the heat radiating off of Will's back. The car suddenly hits something, a hole in the road probably. It's rough, and everyone jumps. Will yelps, and Mike instinctively wraps his arm around his waist, steadying him.
He doesn't let go. He should, but he doesn't. Then the car hits another hole.
"Can they fix these damn roads already?" Steve groans dramatically.
Mike pulls Will closer, practically pressing their bodies together. He leans up to his ear, whispering.
"Is this okay? You could hit your head."
Will doesn't say anything, just nods. He's still gripping the seat in front of him, fingers digging into the leather. Steve will definitely complain about that later. He shifts slightly to get more comfortable, trying not to touch Mike too much.
Meanwhile Mike reaches his other arm around his friend's waist, locking them together. Making an improvised seatbelt out of his arms. Will is still a bit tense, but eventually Mike can feel him relax, slowly leaning back. When they hit another hole, Mike tightens his grip, keeping Will in place.
By the time they arrive Will is pretty much laying on Mike, while Mike's chin is resting on Will's shoulder. It's so warm Mike is already sweating, and they haven't even entered the party. Steve parks a little away from Stacey's house, the driveway is already filled with cars.
Everyone spills out of the car, limbs sore even though the ride wasn't even that long. Steve opens the trunk and pulls out a whole case of beer.
"Holy shit," Lucas comments, impressed. Dustin wiggles his eyebrows at him.
"Alright," Steve hands the case to Dustin. His shoulders immediately drop from the weight, and he hands it over to Lucas, who picks it up with ease. Steve puts his hands on his hips, voice serious and stern. "Here by twelve, got it? Not a minute later."
"Got it," Lucas says.
"And if we don't?" Max adds sarcastically.
"I'm serious," Steve points at her. "Not. A. Minute. Later. Be safe."
Everyone nods. Steve sighs and gets back in the car. He waits until everyone walks up to the house, then drives away.
Dustin once again opens the door for Jane, letting her walk in first and leaving everyone else behind. Lucas' hands are full, but he catches the door last second and leans against it to keep it open for Max. She rolls her eyes and pulls him inside by his collar.
Mike and Will hang back. Well, mostly Mike. He's stretching his limbs and trying to fix his clothes. The stubborn shirt keeps slipping out of his pants. The hem was already wrinkled from tucking it back in at least fifty times, but now there are new ones on his torso that Will left. He doesn't mind those too much.
"Hold on," Will walks up to him, hands hanging in the air, eager to fix something.
Mike lets him. Will reaches up to his collar, hovering above it until Mike nods, giving permission. Will opens up the buttons carefully. Just one at first. He looks at it for a second, shakes his head and opens the rest, exposing Mike's neck and a little bit of his collarbones. Mike can feel the cold evening air hitting his skin.
"There," Will says, stepping away with a proud smile.
"Is it not gonna be.. too much?" Mike touches his neck where the newly exposed skin is, subconsiously trying to cover up.
"It looks more casual like this. You looked like a nerd before," Will chuckles.
"Ouch," Mike pouts, but there's no actual hurt behind it. He did think that back at home while analyzing himself in the mirror. "And the hair?"
Will looks at his hair, and his mouth stretches into that familiar line. He always does it when he has something to say, but holds it back. Mike's hair is a bit flat now, the bangs swooped to the side on their own. It's clear he didn't put much effort into styling it, but Will doesn't say it.
"It's good," he almost squeaks and nods a little too fast.
Mike can only laugh. He doesn't push. They finally walk inside. The music is blaring, the house is filled with people. Some faces are familiar, others not really. Mike is instinctively looking for the Party. It's only been maybe a minute, but the others already blended into the crowd completely.
Eventually they found Lucas and Dustin in the kitchen, messing with the case of beer. Lucas takes a sip and immediately grimaces.
"It's that cheap shit," he says in between coughs.
"I'll take what I can get," Dustin shrugs and keeps drinking from his bottle in small sips.
They spot Mike and Will and wave them down. They have to squeeze in between some people to get through. Dustin immediately hands each of them a bottle.
"It's awful," Lucas comments. He sets his bottle on the counter, shaking his head. Dustin bumps him in the shoulder.
"Okay, it's not that bad," Dustin groans. "You get used to the taste eventually. That's how it works."
"Nah," Lucas is still shaking his head. "I'll go find something else. Something that doesn't taste like gasoline."
He points somewhere vaguely and goes in that direction. Dustin rolls his eyes and takes another tiny sip, grimacing at the taste. Then Max and Jane emerge from the crowd, holding hands. Jane is laughing, practically exuding sunshine. She sits up on the counter, panting.
"This is so fun!" she exclaims excitedly.
Max smiles at her, happy that her friend is having a great time. She reaches into the case and opens a bottle for herself. She takes a sip and nearly gags.
"Jesus Christ, what the hell is this?" she groans and puts the bottle away like it personally offended her. It kind of did.
"Come on, it's beer! It's not supposed to taste like juice!" Dustin screams over the music, very offended.
"Can I try?" Jane asks, looking at Dustin with her doe eyes. His demeanor immediately changes.
"Um," his voice goes higher. He fumbles with his bottle, then puts it away slowly. "I think I saw punch over there."
He points to the living room. Jane nods, hops off the counter and they both leave, almost immediately blending into the crowd. Will and Mike are still holding onto their bottles, almost scared to open them. Max is leaning back on the counter, arms crossed. She gives the other two a long look, up and down.
Will widens his eyes at her in a silent question. She does it back. They're pretty much having a secret conversation with just their eyes, but Mike can't see it. He's focused on keeping his shoulders down so his shirt doesn't ride up, the tightness of his jeans, the tiniest pebble in his shoe. His bangs are tickling his forehead and poking his eye. He's fidgeting with one of the buttons on his shirt. Everything is uncomfortable.
"I didn't think you'd come," Max breaks the silence. Mike's head snaps towards her.
"Yeah. Me, too," he mumbles back, no energy for a sarcastic response.
"Well, it's good that you did," Max replies. Her voice is flat, but sympathetic. A specific tone she leaves for Mike only. Not too nice, but not completely mean either.
Mike can only nod back before Lucas returns with two red cups in hand. He hands one to Max, using the now free hand to grab her waist. They murmur something to each other and giggle. Max takes a sip and gives a nod of approval. It tastes much better than whatever Steve got them. Lucas gives her a quick kiss on the lips, leans down to her ear and whispers something. He pulls her closer, swaying a bit. Max lightly punches him in the chest, with a beaming smile, and he pulls her away into the crowd.
Mike watches them leave, then glances over to Will. He's still looking in their direction, with sadness in his eyes. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, he's shifting on his feet. Mike can't miss the rosy tint on his cheeks. It's just the two of them again. Suddenly the air feels sticky and uncomfortable. Mike needs a distraction.
"We should, uh," he clears his throat and watches Will's head snap towards him. Mike lifts his bottle up. "Do you wanna try this?"
"I'm kind of scared now," Will chuckles, but opens his bottle anyway.
"Hope I don't puke," Mike adds, opening his bottle and taking a whiff. He scrunches his nose. Even the smell is untrustworthy. He's nervous, but Will's chuckling helps him relax a bit.
"Happy graduation," Will stretches and bumps his bottle into Mike's.
"Happy graduation," Mike repeats and they both take a sip.
It is absolutely awful. As soon as it touches Mike's tongue, he wants to spit it out. He panics and ends up swallowing it. It is physically painful. The liquid is bitter and tangy, leaving an awful aftertaste. Mike lets out a few dry coughs.
"Jesus Christ," he wheezes out, fist pressed to his mouth. He immediately sets the bottle away.
Will reacts a little better. His reaction isn't as gutteral and dramatic as Mike's, but his face still scrunches in disgust. He wasn't expecting the liquid to be sweet, especially after his friends' reactions, but it's still gross. He sets his bottle aside, too.
"That's pretty bad," he groans, voice rough.
"Pretty bad? That's the worst shit I've ever tasted!" Mike protests, looking at the bottles like they personally offended him. He picks one up, trying to read the label.
"Maybe if we just keep drinking it, it will taste better? Like Dustin said?" Will leans closer, trying to be heard over the loud music. Mike can feel his warm breath on the side of his face.
He looks at Will, face unimpressed. Will giggles, mouthing a 'what?'. Mike can't stop the corners of his mouth from twitching up into a smile. He turns away to hide it.
"Fine," Mike groans after a few seconds of thinking. They reach out towards the bottles, but stop. On the counter there are two opened bottles, looking the exact same.
"Wait. Which one's yours and which one's mine?" Will asks, fingers twitching. Mike shrugs.
"Can we just share one?" Mike leans down to Will's ear. "I'm not drinking a whole bottle of that shit."
"Yeah. Sure. Me neither," Will scrambles and just grabs the bottle closest to him. He blushes from his cheeks down to his neck.
Eventually they end up on the couch in the living room, surrounded by their classmates. Everyone is talking, not bothering to include Will and Mike in the conversation, but the two don't really mind. There isn't much room, so their sides are pressed together, from shoulders down to their knees. Mike's legs are spread out a bit, Will's are politely pressed together.
They're having their own quiet conversation, passing the bottle to each other from time to time. It's only about half empty at this point. Mike is sweating. He crosses his arms, and doesn't notice his shirt riding up again, revealing a long line of his stomach. Will tries not to look at it. Instead he passes the bottle back to Mike.
"Does it taste better yet?" Will asks while Mike is taking a sip. He grimaces and hisses.
"No," Mike shakes his head. "Not even a little bit."
Will chuckles and sinks back into the couch with a long sigh. He rubs his face with his hands, trying to rub the blush off of his cheeks. Mike glances over at him, then to the crowd. The music switches to a slow, romantic song, people stop jumping and swinging around, changing to a slower rhythm.
Among the swaying heads Mike sees two familiar curly ones. Dustin and Jane are dancing together. Jane's hands are clasped together at the base of Dustin's neck, while he's gently holding her waist. Their moves are clumsy, they try to find the rhythm. After stumbling again, Jane giggles and buries her face in Dustin's shoulder. Mike lets out an amused 'huh'.
"That's new," he says, which makes Will peel his hands away from his face. He looks at Mike, then follows his gaze to where their friends are dancing.
"It's really not," Will says through a chuckle. Mike turns to him with a confused expression. Will can only raise his eyebrows in surprise. "You're serious?"
"What do you mean?" Mike replies sheepishly. Will huffs.
"Mike, they've been flirting with each other for months. They're not even, like, sneaky about it. Everyone knows," Will leans back, fidgeting. "Well, I guess except you."
Mike pauses. He genuinely did not notice. It makes him feel kind of bad. Always the least observant one.
"It's.. okay, though, right?" Will asks carefully, looking up at his friend.
"What do you mean?" Mike is genuinely lost.
"I mean, you and Jane.. It can be.. weird to some people, you know?"
"Oh," it finally clicks for Mike. He sits up straighter. "Of course it's fine. Why wouldn't it be? I'm sure Dustin will treat her well- And it's not like my opinion even matters here, anyway. I mean, she doesn't need my permission to date other people-"
"Okay, okay," Will interrupts Mike's word vomit before it gets too far. He presses harder into his friend's shoulder, chuckling. "She was just a little worried, I guess. About your reaction."
"Yeah, I don't care. I mean, I do. Obviously, I do. Just not in, like, a bitter ex boyfriend way, you know?"
"Yeah, I got it," Will giggles. He lets out a long sigh and relaxes, pressing his cheek into Mike's shoulder.
Mike takes another sip to keep his mouth shut, and to distract himself from the heat creeping up his neck.
People keep moving around them, but the two of them stay on the couch, still pressed together despite all the empty space they now have. The bottle is almost empty, and the two boys start feeling the effects. They're light, their limbs feel a bit like jello, heads are spinning a little. It's not unpleasant. And the beer taste is not as disgusting as it was before. They're not going for a second bottle, though.
It's around 11 o'clock now, still plenty of time to party. But so far all Mike and Will have been doing is sitting on that couch and talking. Mike can't help but wish they were doing this in his basement instead of Stacey's loud house, now smelling like a mix of alcohol, sweat and various colognes. It makes him nauseaous. Sometimes they see their friends in the crowd. Lucas and Max dancing, Dustin and Jane playing a party game. They blend right in, like they've always been party animals.
"You sure you're okay?" Will asks when Mike goes quiet again. He nudges his foot with his own.
"Yeah. I mean, it's loud and smells like shit, but-"
"Mike," Will interrupts. His eyebrows curve, forming a wrinkle in the middle. "I'm not talking about the party. I'm talking about you."
His voice is gentle, careful. Mike sinks deeper into the couch, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The words suddenly get stuck in his throat.
"You've been really checked out," Will continues. "The others see it, too. We're all worried about you."
"I know," Mike rubs his eyes so hard he starts seeing shapes.
"What's going on?" Will leans closer.
"I'm just.. Everything is changing," Mike shuts his eyes and sighs. Maybe it will be easier to say this way. "You're all moving away, but I just.. I feel stuck. I don't know what I want to do with my life. I don't want things to change. I don't want.. us.. to change."
Mike can feel a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, grounding. His heart is beating fast in his chest and he can feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes. So stupid.
"We're not going to change. We will all stay in touch, meet up whenever we can," Will tries to reassure. He's talking about the whole Party, but that's not exactly what Mike meant. "You still have plenty of time to make up your mind. What about your writing?"
"I.. I haven't been writing much," Mike grumbles, sneakily wiping his eyes.
"Creative block?" Will's face scrunches.
"You could say that," Mike shrugs and takes another sip of beer.
The song changes again, the lights dim. It's almost completely dark except for some small primary colored lights. Will gets up from the couch with a groan, stretching. Mike follows his moves with his eyes.
"Are you gonna dance?" Mike asks. Will leans down a bit to hear better. Their faces are so close Mike can feel Will's breath on his lips.
"I don't know," Will says over the music, shrugging. "I'm kinda nervous. You?"
"Nah," Mike answers, leaning back a tiny bit not to bump his forehead into Will's. "I don't know how. I'm gonna look like a.. Like a wet noodle."
Mike wiggles his arms dramatically. He immediately cringes at himself, shutting his eyes tight, but still gets a loud laugh from Will. They both pause, thinking, until Will breaks the silence.
"We can be wet noodles together."
Mike's breath hitches. It's dark, but he can see Will is surprised at what he just said. He starts leaning back, and Mike can tell he's about to take his words back.
"I'd like that," Mike says before Will can react.
He can see Will's chest drop with a relieved sigh. The both smile. Mike reaches his hand out with a strained 'help me up'. Will firmly grabs his hand without question and practically peels him off of the leather couch. Even through the music he can hear Mike's knees crack. Mike groans like an old man, and Will giggles again.
They carefully squeeze between their classmates, hands still tightly clasped together to stay close. They end up in the corner of the improvised dancefloor, not confident enough to go in the middle. Corner is safe.
At first they just stand there awkwardly, unsure what to do. Mike is a little dizzy, so he leans on the wall behind him to ground himself. His shirt rides up again, and he groans.
"Fucking piece of shit," Mike grumbles, angrily tucking the blue fabric back into his jeans. His moves are jerky, bunching and wrinkling the fabric.
"Just leave it," Will puts his hand on top of Mike's, then pulls it away. Mike freezes. "I remembered it being longer. Sorry."
"It's fine," Mike's voice immediately switches from annoyed to soft. His lips stretch into a light smile. He nervously fidgets with the hem of his collar. "Does it look nice, though?"
"Yes," Will says through a laugh.
"Really nice?'
"Yes, Mike. Really nice," Will rolls his eyes then glances up at Mike's hair. He lingers there, then meets Mike's gaze.
"What is it," Mike says flatly.
"Nothing," Will replies, voice high pitched.
"Just say it. I can take it."
"I really hate the side part," Will almost interrupts with how quickly he responds. There's a pause, then Mike laughs.
"Wow," Mike says and starts patting his hair.
"Sorry," Will immediately feels guilty.
"No, it's okay. What do you not like about it?"
"It just," Will's face scrunches again, he sways from side to side for a few seconds, then lets the words spill out. "It really makes you look like your dad. And everyone hates it."
"Oh," Mike's jaw hangs open for a few seconds. Before Will can starts apologizing again, he continues. "I guess it's better to hear it from you than from Max."
They both chuckle. Mike starts patting at his hair more, not sure what he's doing exactly. Will watches him for a few seconds, then steps forward, hands hanging in the air. He gently swats Mike's hands away, and starts fixing his hair himself. Tangling his fingers into the dark curls, combing through them carefully, not to pull too hard.
He runs his fingers through the part line, messing with it, pulling all the hair to the front. Then he ruffles it all up. Proud of the result, he steps back. The whole time Mike was still as a statue, not daring to move a single muscle. He's so grateful it's dark because he's sure his face and neck are a blooming red. His bangs are poking his eyes a bit. Will gently pushes them back.
"That's better," he adds.
"Th- Thanks," Mike stutters and clears his throat.
"We were supposed to be dancing," Will changes the topic, starting to awkwardly sway to the music.
"Right," Mike breathes out and starts dancing, too.
He wasn't wrong about looking like a wet noodle. His long limbs sway awkwardly, he's not sure what to do with them. They both cringe at themselves, the bottle of beer they shared not enough to calm their nerves. Eventually the both stop and just laugh at themselves.
"Okay, this isn't working," Will says in between giggles, clutching his stomach.
"Another drink?" Mike asks.
"Yes please. But no beer," Will nods eagerly.
They look around, eventually deciding on the table on the other side of the room. In the middle of it is a huge bowl of punch, surrounded by red cups. They used to be stacked up neatly, now scattered all over the place. Without hesitation, Mike clasps Will's hand in his, gripping tightly. Just to stay close.
He pulls Will through the crowd of people, some still messily dancing. At one point someone bumped into Will roughly, making him lose the grip on Mike's hand. Mike reacts fast, catching his hand, only this time he intertwines their fingers. More secure this way.
Mike tries not to overthink it, just does it. Will doesn't seem to mind, squeezing his hand in response. They make it to the table, holding hands for a beat longer than necessary. They reluctantly let go and grab a cup each. Mike pours Will's drink first, then his own. This one looks and smells better than whatever that beer from hell was. Without saying anything, they bang their cups together, and take a big sip. The taste is fruity, a little sour, but not too much. It burns their throats, but it's not unpleasant. They exchange impressed glances, and Will goes to down the whole thing in one go. He peeks at Mike in the process.
Mike's eyebrows quirk up, accepting the challenge, and he does the same, chugging the rest of his drink. He can feel the liquid burning his insides, heat settling in his stomach and slowly spreading throughout his body. A drop of it misses his mouth, going down his chin, and he wipes it off.
Before he knows it, Will grabs him by his wrist and pulls him back towards their safe little dark corner. Their bodies move with a delay, the room is spinning a bit, but their mood is great. Will is permanently smiling, showing off his bunny teeth. Mike is smiling, too, but it's not from the alcohol.
The beat of the music is vibrating through them, and they start clumsily dancing again. It still looks stupid and painfully awkward, but they're feeling great. Will is full on spinning, shifting away from Mike until someone bumps into him again. He loses his balance, nearly faceplanting, but Mike catches him. They stumble and almost fall together, but he catches him.
"Sorry," Will laughs so hard he covers his mouth.
"You okay?" Mike's voice is concerned, but he's also laughing. One of his hands is on Will's lower back, anchoring him in place. The other is on his shoulder, trying to keep him from folding forwards.
"I think I'm drunk," Will looks up at Mike, green eyes shining and glistening even in the dark. Mike's breath hitches. They both burst out laughing.
"Okay," all Mike could come up with.
His hands stay right where they are. One on Will's shoulder, firm. The other on his lower back. Will's hands creep up to Mike's shoulders, trying to keep himself from falling over. At least that's what Mike thinks.
They're not paying attention to the music anymore. Everything around them is an echo. They can only hear each other's voices, snickers and giggles. They're lazily swaying from side to side, somehow that makes them less dizzy than just standing in place. Mike feels the heat all over his body, but especially his neck and face. His thumb is rubbing circles into the fabric of Will's shirt without him realizing. At one point Will's hands shifted from Mike's shoulders to the base of his neck, more steady.
Mike gets lost in it. Will's warm hands on his neck, impossibly close. They're clumsily shifting their feet from side to side, bumping into each other sometimes. Mike's heart is beating so hard he can feel it vibrate in his ears. He looks around. The room is dark, no one is paying attention to them in the corner, too drunk and lost in the music. He lets out a long, shaky breath and presses his head to Will's temple.
"You okay?" Will asks, voice worried despite the alcohol.
Mike doesn't say anything, just nods against Will's hair. He pulls him closer, chests pressed together. His shirt rode up again, and he can feel the heat radiating off of Will on his lower stomach. His grip tightens, almost desperate. Before he can overthink it and panic, Will pulls him closer, too. One of his hands sneaks up into Mike's hair, gently messing with the curls.
Mike turns his head, nose pressed into his friend's soft hair. He takes a deep breath, smelling the familiar shampoo. It feels reassuring, grounding. Eventually they stop swaying and just stand there, hugging tightly. Will's face is buried into Mike's shoulder. They can feel their heartbeats bouncing off of each other, both rapid and loud.
"Hey, Mike?" Will breaks the silence. His voice cracks a little. Mike hums in response. He is right above Will's ear, so he heard it perfectly. "I'm really glad you came."
Will's grip tightens. Mike can feel his stomach twisting into a painful knot, and he can't stop the tears welling up in his eyes. He wants to respond, but his throat feels impossibly tight. Any sound he tries to make will surely turn into a pathetic sob. So instead he leans lower, and leaves a feather light kiss on Will's temple. He's not sure why he did it, but it felt right.
Will freezes, but doesn't pull away. Mike takes it as a sign to leave another kiss, more firm and audible. This one landed closer to Will's cheekbone.
"Mike," Will says, barely above a whisper.
"Will," Mike replies, even quieter.
Mike's hand starts gently tracing the curve of Will's spine. The other hand slides over to the base of his neck, thumb rubbing near the Adam's apple. Will's breath hitches, and he pulls away slightly, just enough to meet Mike's eyes.
Mike's eyebrows are curved upwards, eyes dark and wide. It's impossible to make out where his pupils end and irises begin. He's nervously chewing on his bottom lip, already red and slightly swollen. His usually pale skin is red and hot, up to the tips of his ears. Will stares at him with wide eyes, searching. He glances at one eye, then the other, down to his lips for half a second, then back up. Mike's eyes are fixated somewhere lower. Will has to bend his head to meet his gaze.
"Bathroom," all Will manages to say before untangling from Mike's arms, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away.
Will's legs feel wobbly, and he has absolutely zero clue where he's going. Stacey's house is huge, two stories, and there are doors everywhere. Half are locked, others are occupied with people making out or puking. Eventually they end up upstairs at the end of a long quiet hallway.
Their bodies are still vibrating to the music, ears ringing and getting used to the quiet. Will finds a door, slightly open. It's a bathroom. Thank God. It's small, clearly more of a backup bathroom than an actual bathroom, but it works. He pulls Mike inside, turns the light on and locks the door, just in case.
When he turns around Mike is staring at him with that same flushed look from earlier. They stay quiet for a few seconds before Mike stumbles forward, one hand cupping Will's cheek. Will doesn't have time to react before Mike presses their lips together.
It's clumsy, uncoordinated. At first he misses a little and kisses only the corner of Will's mouth. After a second he fixes the position. Will is frozen. His eyes are shut tight, mouth pulled into a thin line. His thoughts are racing, and he can't think at the same time. It takes his drunk brain a few seconds to catch up and realize what's going on. Mike is kissing him.
Immediately Will's hands land on Mike's shoulders, pulling him closer. He starts moving his lips, responding to the kiss. It's unsure. Will has thought about what it would be like to kiss someone, or specifically Mike, but he never got to actually test it out. Their noses bump, shallow breaths escape in between sloppy kiss noises.
It lasts a few seconds before Will comes back to reality. His eyes shoot open, and he presses his palms into Mike's chest, separating them. Mike almost chases after it, head leaning forward while he's getting pushed away. He slowly open his eyes, breathing heavily.
"What are you doing?" Will asks, trying to catch his own breath.
"Kissing you?" Mike mumbles, still looking at Will's lips.
"Why?"
Will's voice is rough. Mike finally looks him in the eyes. His thin eyebrows furrow, confused.
"Is that not why we came here?" Mike genuinely asks. He pouts.
"I- I thought you were sick, I don't know!" Will scrambles. He's actually not entirely sure why he pulled Mike all the way over here. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself and his scrambled brain. "Why did you kiss me?"
"I wanted to," Mike answers simply. Will swears he can see his friend's cheeks getting more red right in front of his eyes.
"But why? Why do you want to kiss me?" Will almost pleads. His fists close around the fabric of Mike's shirt.
"Isn't it obvious?"
Mike doesn't say anything else. He just looks at Will, hoping that's enough for him to understand, like he always does. He can always tell how Mike feels just by the curve of his eyebrows, the scrunch of his nose, the twitch of his lips. They don't always need words. Just looking at each other is enough. Mike's eyes are pleading, hoping, waiting for Will to get it, to fill in the blanks, to finish the sentence. Will doesn't budge.
"I need to hear you say it, Mike," Will's voice cracks on the last word. His grip on Mike's shirt weakens, palms spreading out on his chest, gentle. He looks up at Mike with a pleading look of his own.
Mike panics. His eyes jump all over Will's face, fingers twitch. He isn't good with words even when sober, and the alcohol definitely isn't helping now. Neither do Will's big green eyes on him, expecting but patient at the same time. Mike lets out a sigh so deep it feels like it came from his soul, and drops his head forward, forehead pressing into Will's shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he breathes out, muffled by Will's shirt. The tears escape his eyes, immediately soaking into the fabric.
They don't say anything. Will gently pats his friend on the back, waiting patiently. Like he always does. Always patient, knows when to give Mike space, when to nudge. It makes Mike's stomach twist even more. He's desperately trying to collect his thoughts. He can't run away, can't lash out. Not anymore.
"I should've asked first," first sentence Mike manages to piece together. One of his hands is squeezing the hem of Will's sleeve.
"You're still not answering my question," Will says and tries to laugh, to ease the atmosphere. It comes out dry. Mike groans in response and presses his face deeper into Will's shoulder, almost like he's trying to hide. "I need to know what this means to you, Mike. Kissing me."
"Will, please-"
"Mike," Will interrupts, firm. His hand snakes its way up to Mike's neck, pulling him up until their eyes meet.
Mike's face is blotchy, eyes red and wet with tears. His lips are pressed together in a tight line, and he's doing his 'sad-lost-boy-puppy-dog-thing' that he always denies. Usually it would make Will weak in the knees, make him forget what the issue was in the first place, but he persists. He swallows the urge, and keeps talking.
"Look, if this is.. just some drunk experiment for you," Will's voice is wobbly, it cracks a little despite how much he tries to keep it leveled. He feels himself tearing up as well.
"No!" Mike interrupts, straightening up so fast Will's hand slips away from his neck. "God, no, Will. It's not.. It's not like that."
"What is it, then?" Will can't keep the eye contact anymore, so he looks down at the floor. Everything around him blurs.
"It's.. God, this is so hard," Mike groans a rubs his face with his hands. He slaps his cheeks a few times, trying to sober up. His heart feels like it's about to break his ribs and jump out right at Will's feet. He takes one last sharp breath. "Okay, well.. Um.. You remember that day, at the Squawk? When you.. told us?"
"Yeah," Will nods and even chuckles. How could he ever forget that.
"Yeah. Well, I kind of.. realized something? A few things, actually. I just remember your speech, and it got me thinking about.. everything, really," Mike is fidgeting like never before, cracking his knuckles, picking at the skin around his nails. He's rocking back and forth on his feet. Anything to keep his nerves at bay. He would be pacing around if this bathroom wasn't the size of a closet. "You, and me, and everything that's happened. All the times I was an asshole to you-"
"I already forgave you for all of it," Will interrupts, voice a bit strained. He's still looking down at the floor. There are a few wet tracks running down his cheeks.
"You did, but I never gave you a proper explanation for why I treated you like that. I honestly didn't fully realize it until recently," Mike rubs his neck to soothe himself. "I.. I've been.. confused. For a while. My whole life, probably. I've had these.. feelings, that I never fully understood. And for years I tried to ignore them, push them away. Then there was Jane, but those feelings didn't go away. And Jane is great, obviously, but it just.. When we were together, it felt like I was.."
"Performing?" Will helps, quietly.
"Yeah," Mike exhales and his shoulders finally relax. He didn't realize just how tense his body has been so far. "How did you.."
"Trust me, she's told me all about it," Will lets out a wet chuckle that makes his shoulders shake. "She felt that, too."
"Right," the best response Mike could come up with. He takes another sharp breath and continues. "I just felt like I had to act like a perfect boyfriend, instead of.. actually being one? Does that make sense?"
"I think so," Will nods, encouraging.
"But it never felt like that with you- I mean, I never had to perform around you. I could just be myself," Mike scrambles. He feels the blush creeping up his neck. "And being around you made me so happy. But then, it started to scare me, in a way? I was confused why I wanted to be around you more than my literal girlfriend, why I kept thinking about you, and it felt wrong. I felt like.. Like I was wrong. So that's why I started to push you away, and why I was such a fucking asshole to you. You didn't deserve that."
"You were a teenager," Will tries to reassure. More tears are running down his cheeks.
"Still," Mike rebuttles. "I thought that if I push you away, those feelings would go away, too. But they didn't. They got stronger. When you moved, I felt like I was losing my mind. Being away from you like this was.. It was torture, Will. I wanted to see you so bad, I wanted to know what you're up to."
"Then why-"
"And then I was an even bigger asshole when I visited!" Mike buries his face in his hands, pressing so hard he sees shapes.
"So.. is that why you didn't write me any letters? Because of.. those feelings?" Will says weakly when Mike quiets down for a bit. He can sense that Mike is about to panic and retreat.
"I did, Will. I did write to you, I just.. I was too scared to actually send any of them," Mike says, voice strained and weak. A sob escapes him. "God, I was so goddamn scared."
"I don't.. I don't think I'm following," Will furrows his brows. He's really trying not to jump to conclusions here.
"It felt wrong that I had to write to you in the first place. I was so used to you just.. being there. With me," Mike wipes the tears off his face roughly. "At first I didn't even know what to write. You already know everything about me, there was nothing new I could tell you. I didn't send the first few letters because they looked like I was writing to a stranger instead of my best friend. Then I.. I started writing whatever was on my mind, anything. I hoped that eventually I will feel brave enough to actually send them. But they got.. deep. Quickly."
Mike pauses. He's chewing on his lip nervously. He shuts his eyes tight, trying to form the next sentence in his head. He doesn't look at Will. He can't.
"I started putting these feelings into words, and it just poured out of me. I don't even know how many letters I wrote. I would write one every evening, right before going to sleep. And- And at one point I knew that I won't send them anyway, so I just stopped.. restricting myself, you know?" Mike doesn't check for Will's answer and just keeps going. "It almost felt like you were there? Like I was talking to you, and that made it a little easier. Then Jane told me there's someone that you like in Lenora-"
"Mike," Will speaks up, but Mike doesn't let him.
"Will, please," Mike looks at him with pleading eyes. "I felt, like, angry about it? And I was confused as to why. I mean, Dustin has had crushes, so did Lucas, and it never bothered me. But with you.. It just did. And I didn't get it. Then when I saw you, I just.. I panicked, I guess? I still.. I feel so stupid for how I treated you. And I'm so, so sorry, Will. I know you said you forgave me, but I just.. I can't apologize enough."
"You already did," Will answers, poking Mike in the side gently. "And there wasn't anyone in Lenora, by the way."
"I know that now," Mike almost chuckles. His smile quickly drops, though.
Everything in him is screaming to shut up, dismiss, run away. He fights it. Will finally looks up at him through his wet lashes. Mike's breath hitches, and he realizes that this is impossible with eye contact. He pulls Will into another hug, not too firm in case he wants to pull away, and presses his nose into the brown fluffy hair.
"Was it me?" Mike breathes out. His throat is contracting around the words. He feels Will shift a little in his arms.
"What?" Will asks, barely above a whisper.
"The crush you mentioned at the Squawk? It was me, wasn't it?"
"Mike," Will breathes out, unsure what else he can say.
"Am I too late?"
The air stills. They both freeze and hold their breath. They can't hear the muffled music mixed with drunk voices outside the door, the hum of the lamp above them. Only their heartbeats bouncing off of each other in a fierce battle.
"W- What?" Will stutters eventually, the silence feeling suffocating. He tries to pull his head away enough to see Mike's face, but all he can see are black curls pressing into the crook of his neck.
"I am, aren't I?" Mike says into Will's skin. It's muffled, and his shoulders shake from violently sobbing. "I'm always late. God, I'm such a fucking idiot."
"Mike-"
"I'm so sorry, Will. God, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for not seeing it sooner," Mike's grip tightens so much his knuckles go white.
"Mike-"
"I love you."
Will freezes again. His eyes widen, he forgets how to breathe or think. Is this real? Or is he that drunk? It takes him a few seconds to catch up, while Mike keeps rambling.
"I think I've always loved you without realizing. But I was too much of a coward, so I kept pushing you away. You didn't deserve any of it. You are so brave. So much braver than I ever could be."
"M- Mike," Will's hand slowly creeps up to the back of Mike's neck.
"But I can't keep hiding from it anymore. You deserve to know the truth. And whatever your answer is, I will accept it. I just," Mike chokes up on his tears. "I don't wanna lose you. I can't lose you, Will."
"Mike!"
Will finally gathers enough strength to pull Mike away enough to meet his eyes. It's painful, seeing him like this. He looks completely wrecked and devastated. Will knows the feeling. His eyebrows are curved in concern, but his mouth stretches into a smile. He gently cups Mike's face, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones. He can see Mike's face relax a little.
"Just shut up," Will says when Mike opens his mouth to keep talking.
Will stands up on his tippy toes and kisses Mike this time. It's still clumsy, he can feel both wet and dried tears on their faces mixing together. Mike's hands grip Will's waist tight, pulling their bodies closer.
Mike tilts his face a little to get a better angle. A few more sobs escape him, Will pats his hair in response. Eventually they separate to breathe, foreheads still pressed together. They're both panting, eventually it turns into laughing.
"God," Mike sighs and sniffs. Will wipes away any stray tears with his thumb. Mike leans into the touch.
"Did you mean it?" Will asks, sounding a little unsure. Mike's eyes shoot open.
"Of course," Mike cups Will's cheek gently. Will nods quickly, but still looks unsure. That makes Mike huff out a laugh. "Will, I've been trying to flirt with you for, like, months at this point. I thought I was being so obvious."
"Really?" Will's voice goes higher. His eyes drift to the side, recalling any of their past interactions.
"Are you serious?" Mike asks flatly, tilting his head to meet Will's gaze.
"I didn't wanna read into it too much," Will shrugs.
They both burst out laughing, leaning backwards. The weight of all the tension building up over the years finally lifts. They feel lighter than ever.
"What is wrong with us?" Mike says once he's done laughing, wiping the leftover tears from his eyes.
Will lets out a few last laughs, then cups Mike's face again, lining the two of them up. They just look at each other for a second, taking it all in. They're both smiling like dorks, to the point their cheeks hurt.
"I love you, too," Will says, looking right into Mike's dark eyes.
Mike's brain short circuits. He opens his mouth to say something, then the nausea suddenly hits him like a truck. In a split second his face drops, knees buckle and he gets paler than usual. They both scramble and run to the toilet.
Mike sat on the floor in front of the open toilet for a good few minutes, just breathing heavily. Will is kneeling next to him, gently rubbing his back. Mike hasn't thrown up anything, just suddenly felt weak and like his stomach flipped upside down.
"Feeling any better?" Will asks gently.
"Kinda," Mike breathes out. He leans on the wall behind him, the cool tile soothing him.
"Is it the drinks?"
"I think it's the nerves," Mike laughs weakly.
"Okay," Will giggles back.
"Hey, Will," Mike mumbles after another pause.
"Hm?"
"I love you."
Will rolls his eyes and turns away, trying to hide the smile splitting his face. Can't hide the blush, though.
"You are an idiot," Will grumbles, but it's playful. He turns back to Mike. "I love you, too."
A stupid grin spreads on Mike's face. They both giggle. Mike's hand finds Will's, carefully linking their fingers together. He feels peaceful, like everything is going to be okay. He could stay in this stuffy bathroom forever if he could.
"Can I be your boyfriend?" Mike says carefully. Will nudges him in the shoulder.
"Yes, Mike, you can be my boyfriend," Will rolls his eyes again and giggles. Mike wants to keep making him flustered like this for the rest of his life.
He leans forward, Will meets him halfway. Their lips connect in another kiss. This one is more confident. Their lips are moving in unison, like they were destined to be like this. Mike squeezes Will's hand. Will squeezes back.
They keep shifting closer and closer, until Mike's back is flush against the wall, and Will in sitting on his lap. The floor is cold and uncomfortable, but they don't care. They only separate their mouths to breathe for half a second at a time.
Will's hand finds its way into Mike's hair, tugging, patting, messing with the curls. He gasps into the kiss when Mike grips his waist tightly, pulling him even closer, if that's possible in their current position.
Mike feels so happy he can almost start crying into the kiss. His eyebrows curve, fingers grip onto Will so hard, as if he will disappear if he lets go. The room fills with the sloppy sounds of their lips slotting together and quiet gasps.
"Mike! Will! Goddamnit."
A familiar voice comes from beyond the door. Mike and Will immediately separate, heads snapping towards the sound. They hold their breaths.
"Where the hell are they?" another familiar voice.
"Lucas. Dustin," Mike and Will whisper at the same time. Mike looks at his watch, eyebrows furrowed.
"Shit," he hisses.
It's 11:52.
They both scramble. Will carefully gets off of Mike, knocking over something in the process. Meanwhile Mike gets off the floor, groaning. This bathroom is way too cramped for him. Will reaches for the door handle, but Mike grabs his wrist. Will gives him a confused look.
"They'll know," Mike mouths, gesturing between the two of them.
They're both flushed, lips are red and swollen, still glistening from the kiss. Mike's shirt is completely wrinkled. Will's is half untucked from all the waist gripping Mike was doing. Plus it would be very obvious if they both come out of the bathroom together. Will thinks it over and nods. They press their ears to the door, listening.
"Have you checked over there?" Jane's voice.
"Don't- Don't go there. You don't wanna see what's behind that door," Dustin's voice, almost traumatized.
"Maybe they're downstairs and we missed them," Lucas' voice.
"What about there?" Max.
Mike and Will hear steps getting closer, louder. Then a few loud bangs on the door, startling them so bad they fly backwards.
"Anyone in there?!" Max shouts, still banging. Will can almost see the doorframe shake.
Pause. Long pause. A few more bangs, violent tugs at the door handle. Mike covers his mouth and tries not to look at Will, otherwise he would immediately burst out laughing and completely blow their cover. Will does the same.
They're just frozen in place, not moving, not breathing, not even blinking. As if they're hiding from a herd of hungry zombies and not their friends. Then they hear the familiar Max groan and the door gets kicked at the bottom.
"Maybe they're still downstairs," Lucas says. He sounds drunk.
"God fucking damnit," Dustin groans.
The steps get quieter, eventually disappearing. Mike slowly peels his hand away from his mouth, then hears Will snickering next to him. It immediately turns into laughter. Mike presses a finger to his lips, shushing both Will and himself. Will grabs him by the shoulder not to fall over.
"Oh my god," Will stretches, then turns to the mirror and starts quickly fixing himself.
He tucks his shirt back in neatly, pats down some hair strands that stick out in the wrong direction. He doesn't notice that his necklace is backwards, the charms resting at the back of his neck. Mike gently grabs them and pulls them forward, fixing the chain where it got twisted. His fingers linger. He just now realized that it's the same necklace he gave Will as a birthday gift. He felt so nervous about it back then.
"I've never seen you wear this one," Mike mumbles, not even bothering to fix himself, just staring at Will's profile.
"I save it for special occasions," Will says with a wide smile. He turns to face Mike, and starts fixing his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles as much as possible. Then he combs his hair out with his fingers. It's gentle and makes Mike's eyes close.
"You look nice, by the way," Mike murmurs.
"Just nice?" Will chuckles, finally satisfied with Mike's hair. He tilts his head, playful.
"Pretty, actually," Mike corrects himself. He leans down to press a quick kiss to Will's nose. He doesn't pull away, pressing their foreheads together. "Really pretty."
"Okay," Will rolls his eyes and slaps Mike in the stomach, making him keel over. "We need to go."
Still laughing, Will takes Mike's hand, unlocks the door and they leave. Once they cross the hallway, they reluctantly separate their hands. Downstairs the party is still going, but there seems to be less people now. Will notices the familiar four figures at the front door, clearly annoyed. He feels a little guilty. Just a little.
"There they are! Jesus Christ," Dustin stretches and throws his hands up in frustration. Jane pats him on the shoulder, laughing.
"Told you," Max says, proud about something. She keeps glancing over to Jane. Will gives her a questioning look, but she doesn't say anything.
"Where the hell were you guys?" Lucas asks, sounding exhausted and annoyed.
"L- Living room," Will says.
"Outside," Mike says at the same time.
They glance at each other. Everyone glances at them. Mike's mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out. He glances over at Will, screaming internally.
"We.. We were dancing!" Will starts.
"Then went outside 'cause.. it was," Mike falters.
"It was hot," Will finishes, nodding.
"Yeah. Hot," Mike nods faster, licking his lips.
Max gives them a long look, up, down, back up again. She raises her eyebrow. Lucas' hands are on his hips. He also looks unimpressed. Max and Jane exchange another glance.
"Okay, we don't have time for this. Steve is about to get here," Dustin claps his hands, getting everyone's attention, and dramatically points to the door, eyes wide.
They let it go and get outside. Both Will and Mike sigh in relief. Lucas and Max sit on a curb, pressed together. Lucas is stretching his legs, complaining about how sleepy he is. Max is rubbing his back, whispering about something in his ear. Lucas starts to turn around to look behind him, then Max quickly grabs his shoulders, stopping him.
A few steps behind them are Will and Mike, standing awkwardly with their arms crossed. Will is rocking on his feet, trying to keep his balance. The air is a bit chilly, he can feel the goosebumps running up his arms. Mike steps forward, pressing their shoulders together.
"You okay?" he asks quietly, tilting his head to see Will's face better.
"Yeah," Will answers with a smile. They look at each other and blush. Will turns away to calm down his nerves. "And you?"
"Just tired," Mike mumbles and knocks Will's elbow with his own. Will knocks back.
Across the road are Dustin and Jane. Dustin is laying flat on the grass, limbs spread out. His eyes are closed, and he's rambling about something. Jane is sitting up at first, looking down at him with a smile. Then she laughs at his joke and plops down next to him, head on his arm. Dustin immediately wraps that arm around her shoulder. Mike watches them and feels a smile spread on his face.
Things are changing. They are changing. But it doesn't have to be a bad thing.
Steve arrives five minutes late. Dustin and Lucas let him know just how upset they are by that fact. When Jane gets up from the grass, Dustin stops her and carefully picks out the leaves that got stuck in her hair. How dare they.
Steve stops him and pulls him aside to 'talk'. They try to be secretive and private about it, but everyone can hear it and knows what it's about anyway. Afterwards Dustin goes to take the passenger seat like he always does, but when he opens the door, he sees Lucas, already buckled in.
"Out," Dustin says, eyes wide.
"You snooze, you lose," Lucas shrugs and sinks back into the seat, clearly showing he has no intention of moving anytime soon.
"I hate you," Dustin rolls his eyes and slams the door closed.
"Gentle!" Steve groans, hands in the air.
"Dick," Lucas mumbles to himself and rubs his temples. His head is already throbbing as it is.
Dustin opens the back door instead. Jane is sitting at the opposite end, with Max on her lap. Max is leaning back on her, almost asleep. Jane flashes him a bright, shy smile. Dustin smiles back and rushes to get in the middle seat next to her. They never get to sit together, which always annoyed him.
"Can you stay at mine tonight?" Mike breaks the silence before they get in the car.
"Uh.. I think I need some time to.. you know, process everything," Will answers carefully. He feels a bit guilty when Mike's smile drops. "This is just.. a lot."
"Yeah. Yeah, I get that," Mike nods. He looks a little hurt, but he understands. He kicks a pebble away like a little kid.
"I can come tomorrow," Will adds, tilting his head.
"I'd like that," Mike immediately answers, and it's like he lit up.
Steve whistles, getting their attention. When they look at him, he points to the car, then his watch. Right. They've just been standing there like dorks, wasting time. Mike gets in first, then Will lands on his lap, just like before, but definitely a lot less awkward. Mike immediately wraps his arms around Will's waist, and presses his cheek somewhere in between his shoulder blades. He feels so warm and fuzzy and happy that he starts drifting off to sleep almost immediately.
Max gets dropped off first. Lucas was pretty much asleep in the front seat, but he still woke himself up to give her a goodbye kiss through the window. Then he immediately went back to sleep.
The next stop was the Byers house. Jonathan was already on the front porch, with a blanket on his shoulders. Will and Mike get out first. Dustin rushes out right after them. He almost falls flat on his face in the process, but catches himself. Then he sprints around the car to the other back door, and opens it for Jane. She's laughing, then she hugs Dustin tight.
Will and Mike stand there awkwardly for a second, watching what Dustin was doing, then looking at each other, all giddy. Mike's fingers almost burn with how much he wants to run them through Will's hair, grab his hand, kiss him, hug him. He settles on hugging him. They hug all the time, that shouldn't be too obvious. He keeps his arms at Will's shoulders, though he wants to move them lower so, so badly.
"I'm glad I went," Mike murmurs near Will's ear.
"Had fun?" Will asks playfully.
"Oh, yeah," Mike stretches sarcastically.
They stay like that for a little longer than necessary, then reluctantly separate, still looking at each other. Will can't hold the eye contact for long, and turns away, biting down a smirk.
"Goodnight, then," he breathes out.
"Yeah. Goodnight," Mike nods nervously and smiles. That same stupid dorky smile.
His gaze lingers on Will's back as he's walking away, then it lands on Jonathan. He's still on the front porch, illuminated by the street light. The shadows on his face make him look kind of terrifying, expression impossible to read. But Mike swears that Jonathan is looking right at him. He weakly nods at him and gets back in the car.
Jane catches up to Will on the front porch, just as giddy and giggly as he feels on the inside, but tries not to show on the outside. He looks back at the car one more time as it's pulling out on the road, and walks inside.
The drive gets quiet from here. Lucas is loudly snoring in the front. Dustin is almost there, too. Mike's arms are crossed on his chest and he's looking out the window, unfocused. The absence of Will in his lap is almost physically painful. There is no music, just the hum of the engine, the asphalt crunching beneath the wheels and Steve tapping on the steering wheel.
"How was the beer?" Steve breaks the silence.
"Shit," everyone says at the same time. Even Lucas awakens from his sleep, lifting his head, then dropping it right back down.
"Okay," Steve says, offended. He blinks rapidly and his face scrunches.
"Where did you even get that?" Lucas mumbles, eyes still closed and eyebrows furrowed.
They keep arguing about the beer untill they pull up to the Wheeler house. Mike gets out immediately, giving everyone a weak 'bye'. He walks inside on wobbly legs. The house is dark and quiet. Even Ted is already upstairs. Mike goes to the kitchen, and without turning the lights on he pours himself a cup of water and downs the whole thing in one go.
His whole body feels tingly from the alcohol, the music, the dancing, and Will. He can't think about anything else, but Will. He thinks about Will as he goes upstairs into his room, changes into his inside clothes, and plops into bed. He felt sleepy before, but it's completely gone now.
The excitement feels like electric shocks throughout his body. He wants to jump up and down, kick his feet violently, bite his pillow, anything really to let out this energy. He has a permanent smile on his face. His cheeks are sore now. He rubs his face hard, trying to physically wipe the smile off, but it doesn't budge.
He loves Will. Will loves him. They are boyfriends now.
He reaches over to grab the walkie on his desk. He instinctively switches to the channel specifically for him and Will, and presses the button.
"Will, are you sleeping? Over."
Pause. Static, then a voice comes through.
"Not yet. I was waiting for you to get back home. Over."
Mike can hear Will smiling. His face feels hot. He presses the button again.
"Yeah?" Mike says, teasing.
"Shut up," Will grumbles, but Mike can hear a giggle before it cuts off.
"I just wanted to wish you goodnight," Mike whispers.
"You already did. At my house."
"Yeah, but I wanna say it again," Mike presses the walkie closer.
"Okay," Will says through a laugh. They both pause. "Go ahead, then."
"Right," Mike scrambles. He actually lost his train of thought for a second. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Mike," Will's voice is as soft as ever. It makes Mike's insides flutter.
"See you tomorrow?"
"Obviously. Over and out."
It's static again. Mike presses his lips together and closes his eyes, savoring the moment. He places the walkie back and rolls on his side. He hoped that this would satisfy his excitement, let some of that energy out, but it actually made it much worse. He buries his face in his hands, it feels piping hot. How is he supposed to sleep like this?