Chapter Text
Part One: After the Before
The group enthusiastically made their way down the street on their way to Mike’s house, spun in the familiar yelling and bickering that overlapped and circled back, settling into blurry noise that Mike had become well-accustomed to.
The thick green leaves of the trees they walked under offered a cool shade amidst the late afternoon beating sun that seemed to stick around for longer and longer each day. Hawkins summers tended to straddle oppressive heat and humid storms, but a miracle of some sort had allowed them to frolic in the sun (fairly) peacefully the past couple of days.
School had ended a couple of weeks ago, but Mike could hardly remember the blur of sticky chairs, hurried goodbyes and various crumpled assignments he wasn’t sure if he ended up turning in. It was a jolt to return to school pretending like everything was okay, Max didn’t almost die and the entire world didn’t almost threaten to crack at the seams; that El and him were perfectly fine and that everything hadn’t gone to shit.
When summer finally rolled around, Mike was set on making sure this one was good. The group was still trying, as much as they could after years of hell, to carefully mend the jagged edges that were left behind. At some point, ‘almost dying’ became a usual occurrence as opposed to life-changing. From plans of weekly movie nights to long days spent lounging by the lake, they were going to have a good time and they were going to do it together, despite all.
(Mike ignored the part of him that still struggled to be alone, how he couldn’t bear to curl up in his bed without the threatening, overwhelming sense that things couldn’t stay okay for too long)
They clambered into his house, Dustin immediately pushing everyone out of the way to claim the token comfy chair Mike had found at some garage sale. The others immediately started arguing over turns and “that’s not fair,” but Dustin was adamant.
“I’ll grab some snacks, you guys get the movie set up okay?” Mike yelled over the scrabbling bunch as he walked into the kitchen.
“Mike!” Karen chided from the phone as the group yelled back their affirmation. “Don’t yell.”
“Sorry.” He mumbled, searching through the pantry.
She peered up from the phone, papers were strewn across the desk. “Are you all packed?”
Mike nervously looked up, “almost!”
His parents were going away this week with Holly and Nancy, coincidently, was going on a trip with Johnathan to go check out campuses.
Karen had refused to leave Mike alone in the house (not with the mall fire a couple of years ago as well as a ‘serial murderer’ after that) which meant Mike was going to spend the week at a friend of his choosing. He didn’t dare argue, regardless of the relief that coursed through him once his mother reaffirmed she won’t be leaving him alone.
While Mike may have pretended to weigh his options, he knew who it would be the second she asked.
The Byers were staying at Hopper’s new place indefinitely (or at least for the summer).
The others didn’t even question it, he had a feeling they partly believed that El and him would get back together; If he was going by Lucas’ disbelieving look when he told them they had broken up (“For real,” Mike said again, “Okay. And there is no other reason for this? You two just ‘grew out of each other’” Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Oh my god.”)
Will was the most surprised when Mike asked.
“I thought you said you and El broke up?” He looked primarily confused.
“We did. I — “ Mike uncomfortably twitched, “I thought I could hang out with you. You know, like the old days?”
The bewildered look on Will’s face was a sharp realization, of how even Will could hardly believe Mike in his attempt to reconcile. “With … me?”
“If that’s okay,” Mike added, chewing his lip nervously.
Will’s eyes softened. “Okay.” His mouth was still a line. “Sounds like fun.” He tacked on.
Will had still stared at Mike disbelievingly after like he was trying to confirm this wasn’t some sort of prank (El had also briefly stared Mike down, in some attempt to gauge his intentions — he was undecided whether she could read minds or not. Regardless, he had a funny feeling that El already knew.)
His mother shook her head unimpressed. “I want a bag packed by tomorrow.”
The thing was, Mike had figured since he wasn’t actually leaving Hawkins, he could just throw a few clothes in a bag and be fine. It’s not like he couldn’t just walk home and grab something if needed. He waved his spare hand in a brief acknowledgment as he grabbed the hot microwave popcorn, cursing as the steam brushed against his hand.
“Michael!” Karen rolled her eyes. “Language.” She called out exasperated.
“Sorry!”
Mike carefully balanced the pile of snacks that he collected in his arms, tucking his chin on top of the teetering pile. He walked down the familiar stairs, “snacks!” He exclaimed as the door swung shut behind him.
He threw a bag of chips at Lucas who had started wagging his hands the second he heard Mike’s steps. “What movie did we pick?”
Lucas pointed to the horror flick that was just beginning on the VCR as he shoved a handful of chips into his mouth, vaguely mumbling the title.
“Gross.” Max grimaced as she settled herself against him. Lucas smiled down at her, chip remnants hanging off his mouth. She laughed despite herself, dodging his incoming peck.
Mike felt a familiar biting twinge watching the easy familiarity between the two as they bickered light-heartedly, Max tussling with Lucas’s hair. He didn’t miss El exactly, it was never like that. He knew they didn’t make sense as a couple, maybe before but not now (although evidently El, much smarter than him, reached this conclusion much earlier and left Mike in a tangle of emotions that took him an embarrassing amount of time to sort out). They had been intense way too fast, faced with outside forces that were out of their hands but Mike desperately longed for a relationship that was more than just —
“Are you going to sit down or keep standing like an idiot?” Will laughed. The rest of the group raised their eyebrows at Mike still standing by the stairs.
Mike looked up, shaking his head. “Oh. Right.” He threw the rest of the snacks into the middle as everyone grabbed their favourites. Mike held on to the popcorn as he made his way over to Will. He slid next to him, back against the bottom of the couch. His arm brushed Will’s and he instinctively flinched.
Fuck.
For some reason, he couldn’t prevent himself from reacting when he and Will would brush hands, arms or whatever. Even Will’s focus resulted in some weird reaction that as much as he attempted to reel in, failed miserably (this one could be traced further back than simply the past couple of months, but Mike wasn’t quite ready to detangle that issue).
Mike straightened his face and attempted to subtly move his arm further away.
He sneaked a look to see Will’s reaction to his uninvited brush and saw him glance away, an unfamiliar look in his eyes.
That caused another twist.
Before — What a weighted word for Mike, before the Upside Down? Before the world went to shit, before Will disappeared or before he moved and they still fit? — He was able to interpret Will’s expressions in a mere moment and now, suddenly, he had no idea what was going on in his head. The two of them were able to communicate through looks, that natural stage of friendship where their tilted mouth or raised eyebrows meant something clearly, no conversation needed. They always had. It was like a switch had flipped, maybe spending a year apart creates a natural distance (or maybe it was on Mike and his errant need to put his foot in his mouth). There had not only been a loss of their easy communication but Mike felt their exchanges weren’t the same anymore. The lingering looks felt different for some inexplicable reason.
Weighted.
— And Mike had an uneasy feeling that this change could be attributed to how he was beginning to view Will and he wasn’t sure what the hell he was going to do.
Mike returned his focus to the movie, trying not to fall over himself every time Will’s fingers brushed his hands as he reached for the popcorn.
The movie ended much faster than everyone expected and they sleepily trudged their way out the door. Turns out a group of teens curling up in a dark room after a day's worth of activities accompanied by a vaguely bad movie really doesn’t do much for the interest. Only Dustin seemed invigorated by the movie, still babbling about some theory he had on the inter-dimension semantics.
Mike was standing at the door saying goodbye as everyone filed out, promises of tomorrow and quick hugs lingering in the air. He restlessly tapped at the door, waiting for him.
“Hey, Mike?” Will called out, tying his shoes.
“Yeah?” Unease wormed in his stomach.
“Are you —“ He paused, “are you okay?” Will said finally.
“Uh, yeah of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Mike smiled weakly. Shit.
Will nodded unconvinced. “Right. I’ll see you later then.” A line scrunched at the corner of his mouth as he frowned.
Mike awkwardly waved and then closed the door and proceeded to bang his head on the door a few times.
“Mike.” Karen reminded from the other room as she headed to bed. “Bags. And stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” She said noncommittally.
“I’m going, I’m going!” Mike grumbled, throwing his hands into the air.
____________
Mike had a plan.
He jumped out of his parents' car, waving goodbye before practically sprinting away — His mother suddenly seemed to have formed attachment issues or something and had wrangled him into a concerning amount of squeezing hugs and “you better call me Michael!”
Regardless, he had bigger problems at hand.
Mike’s Plan for His Weird “Feelings” (and other unsaid things)
- Everything is fine.
- Will's face or otherwise broad shoulders have no effect on him
- He does not want to taste Will’s lips.
- He will spend the next week being very normal around his best friend, and spend an all-together very pleasant time.
- Because: everything is fine, he is a self-functioning, intelligent person.
Mike stepped in front of their house.
Hopper had moved into a bigger home shortly after Joyce had announced they would be staying in Hawkins for the next bit. No one was particularly surprised when they all began to live together (except Dustin, who was horrified no one had told him the Chief and Joyce Byers were an item — “No one thought to tell me this juicy piece of gossip? I can’t believe you guys, and I call you my friends.”).
It was evident Hopper had wanted to continue to live in a secluded wooden home (and after spending a disturbing amount of time in a Russian prison, a sliver of normalcy would be expected).
It was old. That much was obvious. Hopper loved a project and had recruited El (and occasionally Jonathan and Will) to help fix up the raggedy place. The two had a lot to catch up on and it was evident in the hours they had spent. Nevertheless, it had a charm and Mike could easily see how comfortable it was. It was still nestled among woods allowing them the type of privacy suburbia couldn’t provide (and for the man who came back to life and girl who curiously showed up out of nowhere, as well as the coined ‘zombie boy’ — shielding from prying eyes was a necessity).
Mike took a deep breath and knocked on the bright orange door.
El opened the door, the Byers' love for plaid clearly seeping into her, clad in an oversized shirt which could’ve been borrowed from honestly any one of the individuals in this house. “Hi, Mike.” She smiled.
“Hey, El.” He grinned back, taking in a deep breath. “Nice door.”
He always felt a little in awe walking into their house, the same way back in California, as he placed his bag on the table. A mixture of the two people he couldn’t imagine life without, not untidy but hazardously bursting with traces of them in the spare scraps of paper scattered that Will doodles in, the box of empty Eggos lying upon the counter and tissue boxes placed at moments reach; even the drawings tacked up upon the fridge and empty cups of that tea El adores stacked upon one another, threatening to tip over.
“Will and I chose it together.” She explained. “It was fun. Hopper said we could pick any colour!”
He fumbled with the open zipper as he glanced up at the novel tucked in El’s hands. “What are you up to right now?”
“Reading.” She raised an eyebrow. Despite their breakup, she was still, irritatingly, incredibly perceptive. “Why are you nervous?” El observed, holding her book open against her leg, as the two of them walked up the stairs.
“What?” Mike blurted. “I’m not nervous. What are you talking about.” He felt his hands begin to sweat as he rubbed them against his legs.
El’s eyes fell to his shaky hands, mildly glancing back up at him.
“Stop it.” Mike pointed at her nervously. He needed to get his act together. Will was already suspicious.
“Will did say you were acting weird.” She snorted, “did not realize how obvious.”
She turned to walk into her room.
Mike’s eyes widened. “He said what? El! What?!” He scrambled after her when her door, albeit gently, shut in his face.
“— Why in god's name are you yelling?” Will’s head peeked out from his room across the hall, his brown eyes scrunched at Mike’s strange behaviour. “How long have you been here?” He accused.
Mike grinned awkwardly, standing in the middle of the hallway, bright red with his bag tucked under his arm.
He waved weakly.
This was going to be an interesting week.
____________
Once Mike had gotten himself settled, the two thankfully found their rhythm quite quickly. Mike was comfortably flipping through a comic by the desk while Will was curled on his bed, his hands gently and carefully sketching on the notebook that rested on his knees.
The cassette player lightly played an unfamiliar song.
Will’s room was undeniably Will’s, to put it simply. The single bed pushed into the corner near the large window seat that was currently being used as a makeshift desk with all of Will’s spare pencils. The window was wide open and it almost felt like the branches were growing from inside the room, as if within nature itself. His actual desk in the opposite corner was cluttered with paints, canvases and comics (which Mike had grabbed once he had seen the open sketchbook and pencil in Will’s hand).
The walls had the occasional poster and enough drawings that Mike itched to look at each one up close. He had only been in here a few times, very briefly since they had moved in. He glanced back at Will, hunched over, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
Mike felt a familiar sting, one that he had revisited a lot over the past few months, (an old wound and even older bandage, worn and threadbare, impossible to heal) why they still felt like uneven pieces slotting together and what he had to do to make them heal.
He hoped it was simply the two trying to figure out their balance again, just like everyone else. Not only has their life been under threat for their entire adolescence, but Mike was well aware of the uneven edges they had yet to smooth out — The fiery emotions that always spun out of control with Will, whether it was the battering rain of the storm or the flashing neon lights of the rink a year later, maybe the raging hormones and everything slipping out of his fingers, his deep brown eyes and lips that should scorn him, or perhaps it was something indescribably wrong with him: unwarranted anger and frustration that he couldn’t reel in — regardless, he desperately longed for the two to fit as they used too.
They had a few conversations about what had transpired but ever since then, Mike had just felt heavily unsteady around Will.
For the life of him, he couldn’t manage to say the right thing. Will may have forgiven him for his behaviour, yet there still felt like so much unsaid, a biting undertone of past grievances buried so deep that no matter how much Mike tried, wouldn’t stop haunting their interactions.
“Hey Will.” Mike began softly.
Will peered up through his hair, tilting his head. “Mhm?”
We’re okay, right? You don’t hate me? Let me fix it.
“Have you read this one yet?” He said instead, holding up the X-Men comic he was pretending to be focused on.
Will brightened. “Yeah! Johnathan got it for me a while back. How is it so far?”
“It’s er, good. I haven’t gotten super deep in it.”
Will looked at him. “You’re already halfway.”
Mike grimaced. “Yeah.” He trailed off. “Comics don’t really pick up until the end, you know?” A weak chuckle followed.
“Really.” Will raised his eyebrows. “Okay.” He considered something and then gently picked up his notebook and placed it on the window ledge. “Wanna go outside? Fresh air sounds nice.” The unsaid, ‘maybe you need air’ lingered. Will jumped up off his bed, brushing his shorts off and holding his hand out to Mike.
He stared at it blankly, Mike’s mind racing of how he is quite literally unable to act normal. Will faltered for a moment before Mike gathered himself and reached out, pulling himself up. “You’d think that giant window is more than enough fresh air. Don’t you get bugs?”
Will shrugged. “Hopper’s turning me into a nature freak, what can I say.” He paused, his mouth twitching, “and the bugs and I, we get each other.” He squinted, feigning coolness.
Mike laughed, turning to look at Will, “Really? Spiders included?”
“Oh god.” Will shivered, “Still no. Thankfully I have a super-power sister who carries them right out.”
Mike remembered clearly how Will hated spiders, but he would also refuse to kill them. Hidden behind whatever doorway or item he could find and whisper-yell at Mike to gently remove them (“Don’t hurt it! Its friends will come after us”).
A walking contradiction and naturally, very Will.
“Is it weird?”
“Is what?”
“Living together?” Mike said finally. He had been itching to ask this since he heard the news. “All of you guys, all together.” He waved his hands.
Will looked thoughtful. “It’s not as weird as you would think. Hopper’s the only new member and he’s already been around, before it all.”
Mike nodded.
“Getting used to living with new people always takes a second, but honestly it feels pretty natural.” He smiles. “When we were all fixing up this place, it was good. Fun even.”
Mike could tell Will was genuinely satisfied with being back, with his home and with Hopper. He tried to envision having a new dad, a new family and could hardly bring the image to even mild fruition.
“So it’s official then? You guys are staying?” Mike attempted to say it somewhat calmly, but it came out in a rush and was much more exposed than he meant. He didn’t know what he would do if they didn’t.
Will fiddled with his shirt, his mouth twisting. “It’s still up in the air, but we are sticking around until the summer at least.” He sounded hopeful.
“Okay,” Mike said quickly before the conversation further derailed. “Come on.”
“Okay,” he laughed as Mike practically dragged him out the door.
The day had settled into a thick, warm heat blanket that even the flies seemed to disdain as they flew off to hide beneath leaves. Mike’s hair stuck to the back of his neck as he followed Will, trampling over branches. El had, intelligently, denied the invitation and had instead invited Max over to sit in front of the fan together (or whatever girls did together, conspiring or otherwise).
“Almost there!” Will said supportively as he continued to somehow gracefully dodge the branches that Mike was a little too tall to miss.
Mike might’ve been grateful for the soothing shade the trees offered if they stopped aggressively poking every area in his body. Will said he had been going to this place near the house for the past few weeks and wanted to show him.
Finally, of what seemed like an hour (although likely closer to fifteen minutes) of Mike trudging through the heat, they had arrived.
Will ducked under a branch beaming at the alcove. “Look!” He gestured enthusiastically at the small flat pond they had reached, serenely surrounded by tall weeds and the rogue lily pad. “Isn’t it great!” The wind flickered through the grass, causing gentle ripples within the slightly green water.
Mike walked into the branch. “Oh for god's sake.”
Will snickered at Mike’s irritation as he whacked another branch out of the way. “Here.” He leaned over and plucked the leaves and twigs out of Mike’s hair.
Will held out the leaf, a teasing smile on his face as he wriggled it on Mike’s face. “Erg, get off.” He sneezed.
He reached out to smack Will’s hand when Mike was greeted with his face, much closer than he had expected. “Oh.” He mumbled, his eyes irrationally darting to Will’s lips. Mike forced his gaze away and focused on the pond, eyes straining.
“How’d you even find this?”
Will moved away and walked over to the side of the bank, immediately plopping down. “Back in Lenora, I went on walks a lot. It helped clear my head.”
Mike joined him, carefully sitting down next to him overthinking how close he could get to Will without it being suspicious (while also not losing his mind).
“Coming back to Hawkins, it felt —“ He paused briefly, “well, obviously it felt like home.” Will turned to look at Mike who nodded in acknowledgment.
Will looked nostalgic, “but, and it’s crazy how fast it happens, but it also felt new. Driving through town and seeing these stores I had never seen before, new people and all ― It’s painful to see something that used to be a part of you, become somewhat unrecognizable.” He looked down. “Like, you feel like you don’t really know it anymore.”
“Oh.” Mike felt strange, they weren’t talking about anything and suddenly, the moment felt charged. Uncomfortable, like something important, of note, was going to happen.
“But, I think I’m learning that’s okay,” Will said, his voice a calm song among the crickets and water, “because maybe it’s like re-exploring what you already love, learning about the new corners that you missed.” He turned to look at Mike, eyes soft.
Mike nodded slowly, afraid to speak up, lest the emotion bubbling up in him spill out. His throat felt like it was closing up, he couldn’t quite breathe as his stomach turned. “Yeah.” He forced out. “That ― I agree.” He took a deep breath. “A new mission. Like revisiting an old, reworked campaign.”
Will chuckled softly, “yeah, exactly like an old mission.”
Mike had a funny feeling, something that felt along the lines of a frayed, old cut, perhaps, beginning the first steps of mending.
“So … What exactly had that got to do with this?”
Will grinned. “Well.” He began. “Basically, re-exploring. I thought I had seen every ragged edge of Hawkin’s but turns out, there’s stuff I missed. So, if I get the chance, I go on these walks on my own ...”
He continued explaining, a smile resting on his face, something exceptionally young that Mike couldn’t tear his eyes away from.
He felt an irrational thought float to the front of his brain.
Will looked pretty.
He couldn’t deny it, especially now, bathed in the shaded light of the afternoon sun. It seemed that in a blink of an eye (or perhaps a long distanced year), Will had changed. All of the same coy smiles and soft glances he always had but now accompanied with something more, older, hotter ― and Mike was coming to the realization that he wasn’t sure he could hide these new, strange feelings towards Will anymore (and that they weren’t new at all and must be more than the inconsequential word: feelings).
“Mike?” Will said softly, poking his shoulder, confusion was written on his face. He had finished speaking. “Hello? What are you doing?” An interesting cherry pink dusted the tops of Will’s cheeks.
“Huh,” Mike responded unintelligently, far too focused on the flush that now seemed to be spreading down the curve of Will’s neck, highlighted by the sweat shining on his skin. Had Will always had his collar bones exposed in this shirt? He blinked, his brain feeling blurry.
“Micheal? Anyone home?” The side of his mouth quirked up.
Mike realized he had now been staring at Will for a few minutes in complete silence.
“Um.” He began.
Will stared.
“Nothing!” Mike finally said, forcing an innocent smile on his face. “Just, er. I was just zoned out. Sorry.” He mumbled quickly, trailing off. “Didn’t catch that last part of what you said.”
He shifted away from Will hastily, pretending to be extremely intrigued by the grass he was tugging from the ground next to him, well aware of the heat that was gracing his cheeks now.
Will shook his head, “The heat must be getting to you.” He started, “I was just saying how I accidentally came across this little place.” He tilted his head suspiciously.
Mike turned to sneak a glimpse at him and saw the corner of Will’s mouth was upturned as he stared right back at him. Mike flashed a nervous smile again and quickly shifted.
“Ah. That makes sense.” He angrily tugged on a clump of grass which made soil fly all over him.
“What did the grass do to you?”
“Many things,” Mike muttered with a frown. He attempted to brush off awful bits of soil, stuck in the creases of his shirt. Will looked like he was stopping himself from smiling. He flopped down to stare at the blue sky while Mike gave up on maintaining any level of pride at this point. He shook himself off as much as possible and he slowly joined him.
The grass tickled his ears.
The two comfortably enjoyed the sun on their faces. A slight breeze rippled by once and a while as the white clouds that they tracked, as hours sleepily drifted along. Will would occasionally point out a cloud and its resemblance and Mike would make a story.
“A gnome,” Will noted blearily, the sun tiring them out as his hair was beginning to brush Mike's face.
He opened a single eye. The heat was hot on Mike’s face. “Gerald.”
Will let out a chortle, “That’s all? No backstory. Just Gerald?”
Mike nodded solemnly, closing his eyes. “Just Gerald.”
The afternoon trickled into the evening with the habitual quiet chatter and laughter lingering in the air as the two boys drifted towards each other.