Chapter Text
The whole place is falling apart, bodies spread around, butchered in the most gruesome way a person can imagine, blood mixed with the rain that had just started drizzling. It was a coppery black color. Human blood, Mike thinks- is bright red - even when it’s spilled on the pavement. No. This is demogorgon blood mixed with the soldiers’.
His eyes trail from the wet pavement, locking on the person further down. Will's orbs, are a captivating storm, ready to swallow the whole world and destroy it in a single moment. He’s following the journey of his body, landing on his strained neck peaking out of his blue t-shirt, inching downwards to his strong hands tightened into fists.
It feels like witnessing a revelation, a show for the whole world and a secret at the same time. It’s something so enamoring, so real and raw that Mike is left breathless. A minute ago he was ready to die, ready to face the fact that no one was coming to save him, he was about to go down with all his doubts and secrets buried inside, never to see the light of day.
But that was a minute ago. Now he’s looking at his best friend, his savior. He’s greatest gift and biggest heartbreak.
Will is still, his knees locked on the asphalt, red coating his fingers from the moment he wiped his bloody nose. The wet curls on his head fall beautifully, droplets of water cascading towards the slope of his nose and full lips.
He closes his eyes. God, it’s a sin.
Behind his eyelids all he sees is Will and the shape of his body, his thoughts a jumbled mess, bees buzzing annoyingly reminding him that he wants to touch while he shouldn’t want to. It’s betrayal. It’s prohibited.
It's crossing a line.
Eleven is right there. Yes, they might be distant but he made a commitment. She’s on her journey and he respects that even if the pit on his stomach says that there’s something more , something unsaid changing things between them. His girlfriend is real and she should be the only person on his head.
Only she isn’t. She hasn’t been for a long time, he realizes.
At the same time his feet betray him, heading towards his best friend, Joyce from the other side yells - a heartbreaking sob leaving her body.
“Will!”
His steps are calculated,his only destination the boy in the middle that surprisingly puts his bloody fists on the concrete, gaining strength and standing up. When Mike reaches him, Will is upright, a little slow on his feet but seemingly normal,unharmed.
Normal. Mike wants to laugh. He always knew Will wasn’t. A part of him felt it in his bones, the magic his best friend carried was something he waited to witness, itching to see it in all its glory.
“Baby,are you okay?” Joyce says as she’s trailing towards them.
Mike is barely listening to a word she says. His mind is inspecting the grime and dirt on Will’s cheeks, the blinding smile slowly starting to spread wide on his face. He’s never seen him so relieved.
It's stunning every time he smiles. He would like to take that grin, tattoo it in every inch of his body, carve it in the beating organ inside his chest and let it stay in there forever.
Jesus, he can’t seem to stop, he doesn’t want to.
He observes as Will answers,oozing strength and something irresistible, confidence. Mike has to keep himself from biting his lip. He has to touch Will or else for the first time in his life he’ll slip in ways he doesn’t want to.
“Now, I’m more than okay, mom.”
It’s filled with power, it’s something said with unwavering ferocity. Mike wants to moan out loud. His hand raises instinctively catching his friend’s bicep. Will’s voice somehow had gone deeper, hiding secrets no one can unlock but only himself can give willingly.
Mike wants to discover them, he’s aching to open Pandora’s box and dive deep into the unknown he’s so desperately afraid of.
“We need to move.”, he mouths.
He’s actually surprised by his own voice heard in the wind. It’s slow, quiet but determined. He hears Joyce’s small squeak, agreeing, just as Will nods, his gaze pinning Mike, inspecting him with a glint.
He grows hot under the weight of his eyes. A desire crawling like ants onto every crevice of his body. This is different, this is a first and it’s addictive.
Just as his hand drops from Will’s shoulder and he turns, he feels it. A touch of his fingers waving through his. It’s a little too long, a little too intimate. Inside his chest there’s a warmth he can’t explain.
From the corner of his eye, he notices Will’s lip curling,his cheeks flaming and eyes pinned down to their point of contact.
Shit. He’s so fucking screwed it’s not even funny.
After establishing communication with Robin and Lucas they begin driving, the car speeding through roads with only one destination, the Squawk. Mike is restless, the vehicle way too small to handle his feelings, the thoughts that are filled to the brim with Will Byers.
Can he pretend that everything is the way it’s supposed to? Can he handle disregarding the clues his heart seem to give him?
“ It was always there, wasn’t it? The power was always there.”
Joyce’s voice is heard in the silence, the honesty of her statement cutting into him like glass.
Will, from the passenger seat smiles, an assurance gracing his every feature. “Yes. I just needed a little help to set it free.”
“And who was that help?”
He really should check himself, get a grip on his body instinctively muttering things and well his tone isn’t good either. Mike can sense the animosity, the hint of anger that spilled with the question he aimed at Will.
He's suspecting, it’s something awfully sounding like jealousy. An ugly snarling demon worse than Vecna, it’s possessiveness.
Will turns, raising an eyebrow, as the words spill full of happiness. “Robin, actually.”
The hiss is out before he can even help it. He had seen the way they laughed, staying behind to whisper shit to each other. Of course it would be fucking Robin.
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
It’s pointed towards him and that’s just great, his filter is not working either. All the hostile thoughts towards her being out in the open in a split second.
Will's face is a mix of genuine inquisitiveness along with irritation. There’s another thing too, an emotion Mike had never seen him display, smugness.
He caught him red-handed and now he’s asking for an explanation he can’t give. One that’s unreasonable, one that shouldn’t exist. He’s seething from jealously and can’t show it. If he says it, it will break him, break them both and send them orbiting to hell.
So he grunts, easing his voice to something more soft. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Will drops it but the silence is more suffocating than ever. This car ride needs to end right now.