Work Text:
Mike was starting to get bored. Not that Star Wars wasn’t just as amazing the seventy-something time through, but the loveseat felt strange and empty. Dustin and Lucas were sitting in the two armchairs arguing about whether A New Hope or The Empire Strikes Back was the better movie (It was starting to get so heated that Mike was almost afraid to weigh in). Mike had been sitting with Will, before his poor best friend had been dragged away by a giggling El and Max a while earlier. Mike could hear them upstairs, moving around and doing who knows what. Nancy had happily donated her room for the weekly “girls nights” El and Max insisted on after she had gone away to college, events which had once taken place during D&D sessions. This was later amended when the boys finally managed to convince the rest of their friends to join in on the game, and now occurred whenever the girls didn’t appreciate the movie choice for movie nights.
Mike didn’t entirely understand what exactly it was that went on during these highly classified events. Only that it made El absolutely glow with happiness, which he knew meant whatever it was they were doing was important. Also that it required a lot of snacks, apparently. Sometimes, they would come down to the basement and take a sacrifice—usually Will, he was too nice—to whisk away for a little while. Sometimes that meant getting a second opinion on an over-the-top costume, sometimes help to acquire more food, things like that. Most of the time Will would return several minutes later, but as the clock ticked past the usual time, Will still hadn’t reappeared.
On the screen, X-Wings flipped and turned around a shower of red lasers as the Death Star came into view. Mike looked up the stairs behind him. No Will. He was going to miss the end of the movie. What could they possibly be doing up there? Maybe Will needed to be rescued. He probably needed to be rescued. Mike got up, telling Lucas and Dustin as much—although they were too deep in discussion to even notice—and made his way up to Nancy’s room.
At the top of the stairs, Mike pressed his ear against the door. The radio was blasting pop music he didn’t know from inside, and he could hear laughing and voices beneath the thump of the base. Before he could hesitate, Mike pushed open the door. And well, wow. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting.
Max was laying on the bed with her red hair spilling over the edge reading a magazine quiz out loud in an exaggerated valley-girl accent. El was sitting on the floor giggling at Max, holding a brightly colored make-up palate. But Mike’s eyes skipped quickly over all of that. What really caught his attention was Will, who was sitting good-naturedly across from El letting her brush the aforementioned make-up over his closed eyelids. She was using a mix of yellow, orange, and pink, all blended together like a sunset. Will’s lashes, brushing his cheeks lightly, were longer and darker than usual.
It took a second for the room to notice Mike standing in the doorway, but when they did Will startled. “Mike! Hey, what’re you doing up here?” He smiled nervously, moving El’s brush gently away from his face.
Mike opened his mouth to respond but for a moment nothing came out. Will looked so…what did he look like? The eyeshadow made his eyes seem like an even richer honey-color than usual, and there was a light blush across his cheeks, though Mike wasn’t sure if it was the make-up or because of the warmth of the room. His lips were plump and glossy, and shimmered a bit in the lamplight. The only word Mike could think of was simply pretty, and he swallowed hard. God, what was wrong with him?
Finally, he managed to blurt out, “I came to save you!” Max snorted from her place on the bed, sitting up, and Mike rushed to continue before she could begin grilling him relentlessly. “You know, you were gone for a while and the movie is almost over, so I just came to see what was up.”
For a moment no one answered. Max’s eyebrows had gone so far up her forehead Mike thought they might get stuck like that, and Will was still carefully averting his eyes, like he was waiting for Mike to say something wrong. Only El was blissfully oblivious to the tension, smiling brightly and looking very proud of her work. “Mike!” She said cheerfully. “Doesn’t Will look so pretty? I think I’m getting better, right?”
“Yeah, definitely,” Mike said dumbly, making Will finally look up at him. He seemed to relax a little when their eyes met, and Mike was relieved. He was also praying a little bit that it was clear to the room that he was complimenting El’s makeover skills and not calling Will pretty. Not that Will wasn’t pretty, just that wasn’t what he meant.
Mike forced his gaze to shift back to El, who had suddenly gotten this look in her eyes. That little sparkle that passed between her and Max when they were about to terrorize unsuspecting friends. “Can I do you next?” El asked sweetly. “I still need more practice.” Max’s grin widened to match El’s, and Mike felt about ready to bolt back downstairs.
“Yeah, Mike,” she said, voice lit with a fake innocence that didn’t match the evil glint in her eyes. “El really wants to learn how to work with different skin tones and face shapes. You’ll help her, right?”
El was looking up at him hopefully, brandishing her Wolverine claw of brushes and sparkly tubes. What stopped Mike from running back to the safety of Star Wars arguments in the dark of the basement was the way Will was watching him. Mostly neutral, cautious, but there was a tentative hope there too. It was hard to turn and leave when his best friend was looking up at him through long lashes and sunset eyelids with glossy lips slightly parted. Between that and El’s clear glee in her work, Mike found himself coming all the way into the room in resignation.
“Just don’t touch my hair,” he said sternly, allowing El to arrange him the way she wanted on the floor. El nodded in affirmation while she examined her color palate intently. Eventually she settled on a dark blue, and instructed Mike to close his eyes. The feeling of the brush was probably a little too heavy against his eyelids, but Mike didn’t dare complain. His body still felt a bit like he was in fight or flight as he sat there. There was something screaming at him that this was wrong, that he shouldn’t be here, allowing this. That he should be in the basement with Lucas and Dustin like a normal seventeen-year-old-boy. But then again Will was here. But Will was different. Not that Mike thought there was anything wrong with that, but he just wasn’t like that. He wasn’t.
But Will was close, having shifted closer to El to suggest colors like the artist he was, and it made it easier for Mike to banish those thoughts to the back of his mind. He was just doing this for El, and a little bit for Will. As in so he wouldn’t be the only guy here, because what kind of friend would he be then? Something wet and liquidy was being brushed onto his cheekbones now, and then he had a pencil nearly stabbing him in the eyeball. Finally, something sweet and sticky was painted over his lips.
El scooted back to look at him, then glanced up at Max, who gave her a thumbs up. Satisfied, El picked up Nancy’s old hand mirror and passed it to Mike so he could see. When Mike got up the courage to look at his reflection, he caught his breath. He almost didn’t recognize himself. Deep shimmering blue was painted over his eyelids, and glittered gold in the inner corner. The pink of the blush was stark against his pale skin, dramatic and artistic. Mike wondered if that had been Will’s idea. The eyeliner was harsh around his eyes, like some kind of rockstar, contrasting the soft, shiny pink tint that adorned his lips. It was all so different from his usual face, bare aside from the smattering of freckles, but it didn’t feel bad or uncomfortable. It felt right.
He turned to the rest of the group, who were still waiting for his reaction. “So?” Mike asked, doing his best not to sound shaky. “How do I look?”
“Pretty!” El exclaimed immediately, and Mike really did love her in that moment.
Will smiled, gently encouraging as ever. “It suits you.”
Even Max must have seen something in his expression, because her voice was genuine. “It looks cool,” she said. “You look like a rock star or something.”
“You think?” Mike asked, looking in the mirror again. Emotions weighed heavy in the back of his throat, but he wasn’t sure why. It was just make-up. He’d seen it on other people a million times, in magazines, in school, in his own house. He always thought it was too much when he saw it on women; he didn’t understand why they loved it so much. But then again it looked amazing on Will. And maybe on him too? What did that even mean? He wasn’t like that. He couldn’t be like that. He couldn’t.
El and Max had already returned to the magazine, laughing about a silly outfit on one of the pages. Will was still looking at him, face carefully blank. Mike wasn’t sure if it was making him uncomfortable or a little giddy. Maybe both. “Oh, you can take that off if you want now,” El said over her shoulder, like she was suddenly remembering he was still there. “There are towelettes in the bathroom.”
Mike almost snapped back that he knew there were towelettes in the bathroom, because it was his house goddammit! But once again he managed to keep his mouth shut. He was trying to snap at people less. It only ever made things worse, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. Especially when it came to Max. She knew how to get on his nerves like nothing else. Mike reached the bathroom and flipped the light on, stopping in front of the mirror. The harsh light of the bathroom wasn’t as nice as the warm glow of Nancy’s room, but the make-up still looked nice. El really was getting much better at it. Mike leaned on the sink, staring at his reflection. He was going to wash it off. It wasn’t like he could come back to the others with it still on, much less his other friends in the basement. The towelettes were sitting on the counter. Mike didn’t reach for them. He wanted to just wipe it off. He wanted to just wipe it off and never think about the rotten part of himself that liked it ever again. He wanted to go back to watching Star Wars like nothing happened.
But still, Mike didn’t move. What was wrong with him?
“Mike?” Mike almost jumped out of his skin at the voice in the doorway. He met Will’s gaze in the mirror, breathing out steadily. Will smiled apologetically. “You okay?”
Mike swallowed hard, nodding once, probably unconvincingly. “Did you mean it?” he asked urgently. Will furrowed his brows, cocking his head questioningly. “When you said it suited me.”
“Oh.” Will inched a little closer, past the doorway and into the bathroom fully. Mike swore he could feel the heat from his body, if that was possible with the distance still between them. Mike followed his movements in the mirror. He was pretty sure he was holding his breath as he waited for the answer that felt more important than it should. “Yeah, I did,” Will said finally, softly, almost a whisper. Rocket Man was playing on the radio in the other room, Elton John’s voice almost drowned out by the girls singing purposely horribly loud over him, completely unaware of the multi-layer crisis Mike was having down the hall.
“Really?” Mike asked, turning to look at him fully, back against the sink. What he was really asking was tell me again.
Will nodded. “Yes, Mike,” he repeated. “It really does suit you. It’s like, I don’t know. Like that color was meant for you or something. You look–” he hesitated, and Mike held his breath again. “You look really nice.”
Mike felt a flash of disappointment, along with a sharp sense that hadn’t been the word Will was thinking of. But he didn’t dare press the issue. “It looks really nice on you too,” he said instead. “El did a good job.”
Will laughed, and the tension broke. “She’s getting good at it, right? All that practice and magazine tutorials are paying off.” Mike laughed too, and the nauseous feeling began to fade. They stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes longer, just talking and joking around. Mike eventually caught himself in the mirror again, and paused.
“I should take this off before my parents get home,” he said, tilting his head just a little bit to see the glitter sparkle. “My dad would totally freak if he saw me like this.”
Will frowned. “When do they get back?”
“In a few hours.”
“Well,” Will started, “then you don’t have to take it off for a few hours, right? You should keep it, if you like it.”
Mike turned that thought over. “I guess you're right,” he agreed. “I’ll keep mine on if you keep yours.” He’d meant for it to sound joking, but it came out a little closer to pleading than he’d intended. Luckily, Will Byers was an absolute angel on earth, and only nodded.
“Of course I will.”