Chapter Text
Stale coffee, crumpled paper, prescription Zoloft, and purchased Adderall all littered Mike’s dorm room desk. Another sleepless night, leading to him starting the day before the sun rises. A day that would be dull and uneventful, if it followed the trend of all the others.
School was mundane. He’s a business major, whose true passion was writing. The only reason he majored in business is because his father wouldn’t pay tuition other wise. He minored in English, although, those classes didn’t excite him much either.
In fact, not much of anything could excite Michael Wheeler, or truly make him feel… Anything. That’s why He loved writing so much, he could relive a time, the last time, he felt anything substantial.
“Fucking shit…” Mike hisses to himself quietly. “It fucking sucks!” He says, Pushing himself back from his desk, and covering his face in frustration. He snatches the sheet of paper and crumples it into a ball, adding it into the pile of other white spheres.
He reached an ending point in his story, one where he desperately wanted the main character to get the girl, and live happily ever after. But, in every draft he created, it just… dosent work.
He tries over, and over to make it a convincing, and satisfying ending, but he just can’t convince… himself. “This is all wrong… she should be here.” He says, feeling emotions well up in him. Instead of feeling them, he opens the translucent orange bottles in front of him, taking one each, washing it down with a warm beer.
“What’s missing?“ He asks himself, now pacing around the small room. His eye catches the painting above his desk… Will, he thinks to himself, smiling. The painting, which was painted by Will, and a reflection of El’s emotions, had been a constant source of comfort and inspiration for him. “The Cleric and the Paladin… what if they ended up together?” He says to himself, looking as if there was a light bulb above his head.
In his time reading, and writing, and learning, he was no stranger to the possibility of two males ending up in a relationship. Not to mention his Best Friend being gay. And, to be honest, it wouldn’t be the first time he considered the possibility of them ending up together… in the story, of course. The real reason he hadn’t written it yet? Guilt. He couldn’t dare think of a story where the characters that represent himself and Eleven didn’t end up happy, together… if felt like a betrayal to her memory.
But, some nights, when Michael was so desperately sleep deprived, he would let his mind wander. What if the day Will came out to everyone, he was the person he had a crush on. He fantasized about having Will, being able to be the guy he loved throughout his childhood, always there, always needed…
Before he really knows it, he’s writing, thoughts flowing like a waterfall onto the page. Longful stares, physical contact, red blushing cheeks. He lets his fingers type about how desperate Will’s character is for the love of Mike’s counterpart. He writes about loss, and how Will waits for him, waits until he’s ready to accept himself, and they live happily ever after, together. “Jesus… I can’t keep doing this.” Mike says to himself.
It was the first time he had put words down on paper, documenting this fantasy of his, but it was far from the first time he had thought about it. About How much he missed Will. How he’d prostrate at his feet just for the love and connection they had once before.
Screw it, he thinks to himself. He ruffles through a pile of letters, finding one from Will, with his new address enclosed. “Im gonna go see him… Talk to him, he can help me...”
-
A “Knock, Knock, Knock” Wakes Will out of his sleep, at way too late of an hour. What the fuck? He thinks to himself, jumping out of bed, still in his underwear. He quickly makes his way across his tidy, small apartment to the front door. He opens it, keeping the chain lock in place. “What do you-“ Will cuts his hostility off when he sees who it is “Mike? What are you doing here so late?”
“Well… you did say I can come by whenever.” Mike says with a nervous chuckle, scratching his head. “Can I come in?”
Will’s initial shock wears off, no longer awestruck at the unexpected guest, and he lets him inside. “O-okay, yeah… But I expected you’d maybe, call?” Will says, gently, then putting on the first sweater he finds in the closet by the door.
“Well s-sorry, I just wanted to talk to you…about some stuff, about my stories!” Mike says, but, he’s interrupted by Will. “It couldn’t wait until morning?” He says, with a tinge of agitation.
“Well, not just that… about us too… I was thinking about- about the day you came out! and… maybe some of the other stuff we said that day… or didn’t say?” Mike says, with the world of anxiety in his voice.
Will’s face morphs from a state of tired astonishment, to being mortified. Mike notices, causing him to hesitate, feeling unsure of the entire trip. “Mike, you seriously did not drive all the way to Chicago, to talk about my coming out speech from like, four and a half years ago…”
Mike’s stomach drops. It hadn’t been what he expected at all so far, especially not what he’d been used too. Will’s cold, almost annoyed tone, and less than personable way of talking caused him to take a few beats too long to respond. Which, gave ample time for another person to enter the conversation.
“Will? Who’s this? What’s going on?” A deep voice interjects from the darkness of Will’s apartment. “I- I’m Mike…” Micheal answers, before Will gets a chance too. “Okay… that didn’t really answer my question though.” The stranger responds.
Mike feels an ache in his chest. He dosent know about me? Why did I expect him too? He thinks to himself. “Uhh, Will’s friend? …Best friend of like, 15 years… that Mike… Michael Wheeler!?” Mike continues, almost in disbelief that any friends of Will could not know about him.
Will chimes in. “Th- This is Mike, my friend from back in Hawkins?” He says in a casual manor. Mike walks over to him, and holds out a hand. “Nice to meet one of Will’s friends from the city!” The man dosent shake his hand though, instead correcting Mike. “We’re not friends” he says, in a serious tone.
“Oh…” Mike says, stumbling back a few steps, wiping his hand on the vest of his wool suit. “Roomate-“ Mike barely gets the word out before he is cut off. “Im his Boyfriend.”
The words hit Mike like a brick. Boyfriend?! W-what… no way, he would’ve told me… in his letters! Well… In the last letter I got which was, how many months ago now? Mike’s thoughts run wild, breaking out of the trance once he notices that he’d been silently starring at this man.
Will breaks the tension, “Carlton, you can go back to bed, he was just leaving.” He sighs out, standing up, giving me a polite smile, and leading me towards the door.
“W-wait.. we didn’t- get to talk!” Mike protests. “We can talk in the morning… You have my number, we can meet somewhere.” He says, still guiding Mike towards the door. “Why… because of that douche? Why’s he pretending he dosent know me?!” Mike asks, not loud enough for anyone else to hear.
“Well, Mike, that douche is my boyfriend. And, he’s not pretending… he doesn’t know about you.” Will says, Mike finally outside. He’s at a loss for words, unable to comprehend the full situation. “B- but I-“
“Mike! We will talk tomorrow, Goodnight… it was nice to see you.” Will cuts him off, closing the door and locking it.
A million thoughts rush through Mikes head after the interaction, but one overtakes them all. “Shit… I was planning on sleeping here.” He says, looking down the hallways.