Work Text:
Thursday, April 20, 1989
3:51 PM
“Mike, Lucas, Will—do you copy? This is Dustin—and Max. Over.”
The short melody of the Roger beep rang out from the radio in Will’s backpack. He groaned, knowing he’d have to either get up and switch it off himself, or get up and respond to Dustin. There was only a matter of time before someone replied, or Dustin called again. Either way, Will would have to leave the warmth of his bed before he had finished his after-school nap.
He stretched, massaging the back of his neck where he must have been laying funny. He’d been asleep for maybe forty-five minutes, which apparently was just enough to have him feeling groggy and disoriented. And ravenously parched. He sat up and grabbed the glass of water from his nightstand, chugging the remainder. It was room temperature now, but Will was thirsty enough that it didn’t matter.
“Come in, Mike. Lucas. Will. Do you copy? This is a…code green. Yeah. Over.”
Will sighed. Whatever “code green” meant, it was clearly bait. He rubbed his eyes.
“We don’t have a code green, dumbass,” came Mike’s voice through the walkie. “I’m playing Atari. Over.”
“Yeah, there’s no such thing as ‘code green,’” Lucas chimed in.
There was silence on the line for a moment, and Will used the opportunity to get himself out of bed and walk across the room to his backpack.
“Were you done? Can we get an ‘over?’ Over,” Dustin reminded Lucas, the exasperation in his voice palpable through the airwaves.
“Yeah, yeah, over. Jesus.”
Will sat on the floor of his room and leaned against the wall, pulling his backpack up to him and retrieving his walkie. He extended the antenna and held down the talk button. “What’s a code green? Over.”
Will was greeted by a chorus of Will!s from his friends. He smiled fondly at the reaction.
“Well—you’ll all have to find out, now won’t you? Meet Max and me at Skull Rock in twenty minutes. Over and out.”
Will looked longingly at his bed one more time before changing begrudgingly into his outside clothes. It was late April, but there was a chill in the air yet—it wouldn’t start getting hot for another month—so Will made sure to grab a jacket on his way out.
Mom and Hop were still at work, so he’d left a note on the counter letting them know he’d be out for the evening and would probably end up at Mike’s. He mounted his bike and headed for Skull Rock.
He was pleased to find that he was the last one of the Party to arrive. Even though he knew there was nothing to be worried about anymore after the destruction of the Upside-Down, Will was still mildly creeped out by the thought of being alone in the woods.
His friends waved, happy to see him as he walked his bike over to them, leaning it carefully against the rock. “Hey, guys,” he greeted, joining them on the ground where they sat in a circle. He took the open spot between Lucas and Mike.
“Byers!” Lucas exclaimed, and shuffled over to give Will a side hug. Will returned the embrace.
“Just on time,” Max said.
“We’ve been waiting to learn what a ‘code green’ entails. They wouldn’t tell us before you got here,” Lucas added.
“Is it bad?” Will asked.
Mike shrugged. “They won’t tell us anything. For all we know, they found toxic waste around here.” He was joking, but he looked a little on edge.
“I don’t think toxic waste is green in real life. That might just be in cartoons,” Will said, hoping to give Mike a bit of peace of mind.
“Are you sure?” Lucas asked, the same look of concern on his face.
Will shook his head—he wasn’t a good liar. “No,” he admitted. “But I think toxic waste would be a ‘code red,’ right?”
Mike and Lucas nodded, accepting this assessment. Max laughed, but didn’t reveal anything.
“Okay, drumroll, please,” Dustin cued.
Max rolled her eyes, and Will started the drumroll. The others followed suit, slapping their thighs as Dustin looked around the circle, smirking with pride for his secret.
Will watched as Dustin rose up on one knee, held a hand out, and produced something from the pocket of his hoodie, presenting it like an offering in his hands.
Will wasn’t naive—he knew what it was. Dustin was holding a joint.
“Holy hell,” Mike remarked. “Is that—”
“—Pot?” Lucas asked. He turned to Max. “How did he get pot?”
Max just smirked. “I got pot.”
Lucas narrowed his eyes. “How did you get pot, and I didn’t know about it?”
“What, do I have to tell you everything?”
“Uh, yeah! I’m your boyfriend.”
“Well, I’m telling you now. Surprise.”
Will and Mike exchanged a wary glance, and Mike nudged Will playfully. Will stifled a laugh, and turned back to Dustin. “So, are we…gonna smoke this?”
“Aw, I was hoping we could just look at it,” Mike quipped. Will refused to grant Mike the dignity of acknowledging that joke.
Dustin returned to his spot on the grass. “Fuck yes, we’re going to smoke this,” he replied. He turned to Max, extending a palm. “The torch, if you please.”
Max retrieved a cigarette lighter from her pocket unceremoniously and handed it to Dustin. He gripped it firmly in his fist. He put the end of the joint to his lips, rose the lighter to the tip, and—
“Wait!” Dustin exclaimed.
“We have been,” Mike pointed out, a bitter scowl coloring his face.
Dustin punched the air, loosening the sleeve of his hoodie to reveal his wristwatch, then brought his wrist to eye level. “Four-nineteen. We have to wait.”
“Oh, brother,” Max said.
“What for?” Mike asked.
Will laughed, realizing what was happening. “Oh my god. He’s waiting for four-twenty,” he said.
“Precisely!” Dustin said. “The conditions must be perfect.”
“Why do we have to wait for four-twenty?” Mike whispered, leaning closer to Will. His breath tickled, and Will shivered.
Will shrugged. “I dunno,” he whispered back. “I guess there’s, like, some kind of stoner rule of law.”
“Have you ever smoked before?” Mike’s expression looked almost accusatory.
Will raised an eyebrow. “Why, you worried I don’t tell you everything?” When Mike responded with an annoyed look, Will shook his head. “No, I haven’t. But I got rides to and from school every day for six months from Argyle and Jonathan. Hard not to absorb a few things.”
Mike scrunched his nose (perhaps remembering the magnificent odor that preceded that infamous pizza delivery van), but nodded appreciatively. The Party waited with bated breath for the final seconds to pass.
Dustin’s watch beeped, signaling the commencement of the ritual. He lifted the joint to his mouth, flicking the lighter and aiming the flame at the other end. He inhaled deeply, eyes crossing slightly, and then pulled the joint out of his mouth to start coughing up smoke. He passed the joint and lighter to Max as he hacked into the collar of his shirt.
“Jeez, man,” Lucas said, leaning over to clap Dustin on the back. Dustin held up a hand, and Lucas retreated.
Max, however, wasted no time taking her toke. She inhaled smoothly and passed the joint to Lucas.
“What the hell…?” Lucas looked at her with impressed disbelief.
She just shrugged, so Lucas shrugged back, and followed her lead. “Is this still lit?” he asked, examining the joint. She started to light the end for him, cupping her hand over the burnt tip, but Lucas had already started pulling on it. The joint lit up a vibrant orange, and Max let her hands fall to her lap.
“All right, Sinclair,” she teased.
Lucas held his breath for a moment, eyed everyone with anticipation, then exhaled. A thick cloud of smoke was released from his lungs. The Party began to clap, but Lucas’s face twisted into a strained expression, and finally—he, too coughed.
They shared a laugh, and Lucas passed the joint to Mike, who pinched it firmly between his thumb and forefinger.
“Don’t squeeze the flower out!” Dustin told Mike, wiping his eyes.
“I’m not squeezing shit,” Mike protested, and leaned forward to meet the joint where he held it. His eyes widened as he inhaled, and he leaned back, tilting his head to blow smoke into the sky. Everyone waited for him to cough, but he didn’t—instead, he brought a hand to his throat and grimaced. “Jesus. That burns.”
“My turn,” Will said, and reached for the joint.
Mike moved his hand away from Will’s, denying him the opportunity to grab it.
“Hey!” Will objected
“Sorry,” Mike said, and to his credit, he really did look apologetic. “I just—it’s burning hot. It’s gonna hurt.”
“I can take it, Mike,” Will whined.
“Okay, okay, I know. Just—”
Mike leaned a little closer to Will, and brought the joint to his lips. Instinctively, Will parted them, accepting the tip of it as Mike’s gentle hand held it steady. His finger grazed his chin, and the contact surprised Will so much he almost forgot to inhale. Will pulled on it slowly, meeting Mike’s focused eyes. He watched Mike’s pupils dilate ever so slightly. After a moment, Mike removed the joint from Will’s mouth. He watched him, concerned, and then Will remembered to exhale. He turned away from the circle, breathing the smoke out behind himself. (Not that it mattered—the wind blew it back towards the group anyway.)
“Thanks,” Will said softly.
“Good job,” Mike whispered.
Will cleared his throat, trying not to choke. He didn’t think it was only the smoke that had his mouth feeling as dry as it was.
“Oh—does anyone have water?” Mike asked generally. “I would have brought some if I’d known what ‘code green’ meant.” He shot a glare towards Dustin.
Max shifted awkwardly, crossing her legs just so—as if concealing something. Mike was right. Will’s throat burned.
Mike’s gaze zeroed in on it. “Max, what’s that?”
“Sorry, I’m not sharing with you,” Max said, patting the hidden item protectively. “Germs.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Not me, Will.”
“Well, why didn’t you just say that?” Max grabbed her water bottle and handed it to Will.
Will took it gratefully, mouthing a thank you. He wasted no time popping the top up, trying his best to squeeze the water into his mouth without letting the spout touch his lips. Once the first drop hit his tongue, he couldn’t stop—his other hand came up to grip the bottle tightly as he swallowed a steady stream.
“Oh,” came Dustin’s voice, and it pulled Will out of his frenzy.
He wiped his mouth, and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Max,” he said, handing the half-drained bottle back to her. “Um, thanks.”
She groaned, but there was no real annoyance behind it.
Will felt a lightness in his chest that made its way up to his head. It was…floaty, almost, and the world seemed brighter and warmer. He leaned into Mike for support, and Mike’s arm twitched like it wanted to catch him. This is what being high feels like, Will realized. Did Jonathan really go to school like this? Will couldn’t imagine being able to balance equations in this state. (Not that he could in any state.)
The Party continued to pass the joint around, gradually finding ease in the rotation. Between the five of them, the joint shrunk rather quickly. Smoke danced around them, billowing as it rose up to the stratosphere. Will wanted to draw the scene. Eventually, the roach burned too hot to breathe in. Max extinguished it on the edge of the rock, then stood.
“Whoa,” she said. “It just hit me.”
“Me, too,” added Lucas. “I feel like I’m floating.”
“That might just be gas,” Mike teased. The remark got a small smile out of Will.
“Hit me five minutes ago,” Dustin said. “Did anyone bring snacks?”
“Oh my god,” Lucas groaned, hands coming up to his head. “I’ve never needed food more in my life.”
Immediately, images of sweets entered Will’s mind. Sticky marshmallows between two crackers, a piece of chocolate melting onto it. Then a can of Coke, fizzy and ice-cold. Will’s mouth watered, and he looked over at Mike with wide eyes.
“Hungry?” Mike asked.
Will nodded.
Mike rose, then held a hand out for Will to grab, pulling him to his feet. The group started to pack up and begin to walk their bikes out of the woods.
A rustling of leaves startled them both, and Mike instinctively stepped in front of Will and his bike, letting his own fall to the ground as he shielded Will from the unknown threat. The threat made itself known when a squirrel popped out of the bushes and scampered up a tree.
“My knight in shining armor,” Will said sappily.
“You could have been killed,” Mike said, and though his tone was serious, his eyes gleamed. Will made a show of being flattered, dramatically bringing his hand to his heart.
Mike and Will burst into laughter.
“Where’s the next stop?” Lucas asked.
“Gas station, maybe. They might have sour cream and onion chips,” Max suggested.
“Oh god, that sounds good,” Dustin moaned. “I’ll join you. I need to see their full inventory.”
They walked their bikes along the tracks, laughing and joking as they approached the main road. Will’s mouth felt really dry, and the image of a bubbly glass of Coke entered his mind again. Maybe he could ask Max to grab him one from the gas station.
The sleeves of his hoodie had fallen over his hands, so he pushed them up a little. How did hoodie material work, anyway? One layer of fabric that’s really soft on one side had to be some kind of sorcery. Will was a sorcerer, once. Maybe he could figure it out.
Mike turned towards the group, raising the volume of his voice a little. “Hey, meet at my house?”
“That was part of the plan,” Dustin answered, giving a thumbs up.
“One day, it would be cool if you stopped making plans to hang in my basement without talking to me first,” Mike admonished, hopping on his bike.
“We never hang out anywhere else. You’re too much of a control freak to let that happen,” Max countered.
“She’s got you there,” Lucas chimed in.
“Whatever. Just—enter through the basement door—”
“—so your mom doesn’t see us, we know!” Lucas shouted, pedaling away. Max and Dustin followed not far behind, leaving Mike and Will to themselves.
Will swung a leg over the seat of his bike, positioning himself. It took more effort than it normally did, and he felt a little wobbly at first pedal. “Whoa.”
“You okay?” Mike’s tone had taken on a note of concern.
Will nodded. “Just…needed a second to adjust, I think. This is weird.”
“Yeah,” Mike agreed. “Weird…but in a good way, right?”
“I think so,” Will said. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Jury’s still out?”
“Yeah, I’ve got twelve angry men in my head,” Will joked.
Mike laughed, a breathy chuckle that went right to Will’s gut, and he blushed, avoiding Mike’s gaze.
Then Will remembered: “I forgot to ask them to grab me a Coke,” he pouted.
Mike screeched to a halt, and Will braked his bike in response, watching as Mike fished his walkie-talkie out of his bag. “Dustin, Lucas, Max—do you copy? This is a code red. Over.”
Almost immediately, the speaker crackled. “What’s wrong? We can be there ASAP. Over.” Dustin’s voice.
“Will wants a Coke. Over.”
There was silence on the other end, and Mike and Will broke into hysterics.
Dustin responded eventually. “I guess I deserved that. That can be arranged. Over.”
Most of the rest of the ride was silent, but Will could feel Mike’s eyes on him periodically. It felt safe, almost, knowing that someone was looking out for him—and that it was Mike.
Once they arrived at Mike’s house, the boys carefully dismounted their bikes, leaning them against the side of the house and sneaking around the back. Running into Mrs. Wheeler in this state felt about as terrifying as anything Will had experienced, which was saying a lot. Or maybe, Will’s feelings were overwhelming him at the moment, and he was struggling to think straight.
Mike slowly, cautiously, quietly turned the knob of the basement door, pushing it in inch by inch. He stood there, stone-still like some sort of prey animal, listening for any signs of predator (or maternal) activity. When he was satisfied, he motioned for Will to follow him inside with a little jerk of his head.
Once they made it to the couch, plopping down next to each other, Will’s head started spinning. He closed his eyes and leaned back, resting his head against the back of the couch. The basement was cool, the air a bit humid, the familiar musty scent filling his nostrils. It was calming, in a way. Will breathed in and out. He felt a hand on his, and he opened his eyes.
“Still okay?” Mike asked.
Will nodded. “Actually…I feel really good.”
A slow smile crossed Mike’s face. “Yeah?”
Will grinned back. “Yeah, it’s like—”
“—floating?”
Will giggled. “I mean, yeah.” He sighed happily, and Mike craned his neck to get a view of the basement stairs. No one was there, of course.
Mike stretched his arm out, gathering Will close to him. Will nuzzled in, closing his eyes again and settling into the warmth of Mike’s body.
“Mmm,” Will hummed.
“Did you get your nap today?” Mike asked.
Will nodded into the crook of Mike’s neck. “A short one.”
“What, like an hour?”
Will giggled again. “Mike…”
Mike poked him in the cheek, and Will moved his face out of reach. “Is the weed making you sleepy?”
Will sighed sleepily. “No.”
“Oh, good. So you won’t object, then, if I do this?”
And then there was a pressure, the feeling of Mike’s warm lips upon Will’s own, and Will melted into the kiss. Mike’s lips slid against his, sucking lightly onto his bottom lip. Will parted his lips at the insistence, and Mike’s tongue slid inside. A low moan might have escaped Will’s throat, but Will couldn’t really tell what was real and what wasn’t at the moment.
Mike moved a hand to Will’s hair, threading his fingers through it, and guided Will down into a horizontal position on the couch. Will’s arms came up and wrapped around his boyfriend’s middle, hands sliding up the back of his tee shirt. They kissed lazily, hands roaming, soaking in the new sensations as the air buzzed around them. Something about the high felt absolutely electric, despite the mellowed euphoria that had taken over.
Voices carried from outside. Mike stiffened in his arms, and the boys sprang apart. Will watched Mike adjust the front of his jeans, and Will crossed his legs uncomfortably. Mike tossed him a pillow, and Will set it on his lap. The voices got closer, and soon, the door opened behind them. Will hurriedly smoothed the front of his hair and straightened his clothes, and tried to look presentable and alert as their friends rounded the corner.
“We got chips!” Max announced, shaking a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips in front of her.
“Hey, guys. Got your Coke. Why do you look like you’ve just been making out?” Dustin asked.
Will froze.
Mike stilled. “Uh—we—no, we—”
There was a beat of the loudest silence Will had ever experienced. The seconds stretched painfully.
“You should have laughed,” Lucas said after a moment. “That’s a weird reaction.”
“It’s not a weird reaction,” Mike protested.
“Okay, then. Will?” Lucas turned to him. “Give us something normal.”
Will’s eyes widened, and he tried to appear casual, shifting in his seat and uncrossing his legs. It took him a moment to remember why he had crossed them in the first place, and then he re-crossed his legs. He held the pillow close to him. Did he need to say something?
“Good try, buddy,” Dustin said, voice full of sympathy.
“All right, so how long has this—” she gestured between the two of them— “been going on?” Max demanded. Then, her expression softened a little. “Will, you couldn’t even tell me?”
Will pursed his lips, feeling guilty. “No…?”
“Mike, you couldn’t even tell me?” Lucas echoed.
Mike scoffed. “Why the hell would I do that?”
“Ha! So you admit it!” Dustin pointed his finger at Mike, who put his arms up in mock surrender.
“Yeah, yeah, you got us.”
Though much teasing went on, the air in the room was gleeful and celebratory, which mixed beautifully with the buzzing of the high in their brains.
“Seriously, congrats, guys,” Lucas said, beaming. “I’m very happy for you.”
Max and Dustin echoed the sentiment, and Will blushed.
“Can I…ask a question, though?” Dustin ventured, looking hopeful.
Will and Mike exchanged a look, and Mike nodded almost imperceptibly at him. Will relayed the message to Dustin: “Sure.”
“…Why Mike of all people?”