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The moment Mike parked his car, he knew the next 24 hours would be filled with nothing but immeasurable regret.
It had been a stupid idea. In fact, it was the single worst idea Lucas has ever conjured up in his entire life. Mike was certain of it.
It had been three months since they last saw each other and apparently this was how they were doing it. Meeting up at Stacey’s party.
Fucking ridiculous is what it was.
A ‘reunion’ party is what she had announced it as. Even going so far as to send every person of their grade a handwritten invitation. Back when he received it in his college dorm he had to double check if it had actually been addressed to him.
They hadn’t spoken so much as three words, much less gone to parties together. To top it all off, Mike had never been a party person. He could count the total number of those he had attended on one hand.
The letter was just the way he had expected. Neat, flowery and overly pretentious. Because again, why was Stacey Albright sending an invitation to him of all people?
Crumbled and discarded is what the letter looked like a few minutes after he had read through it.
Mike missed the person he was in those precious few hours.
Writing his thesis while a cold coffee mug and his Walkman had kept him company. And, of course, the prized plane ticket back to Hawkins on his desk.
The only thing Mike and Stacey could agree on was that a reunion had been long overdue. Not with the same people however.
The basement in his parents house had been promised to him for an entire weekend. Holly and her friends simply had to have fun in some other way.
He had mapped it all out in his head. The Party would get together, play D&D for an entire day and watch some godawful movies Mike picked out. That was how it always went. How it was supposed to go this time as well.
Lucas had called him a day later. Exciting news about a ‘change of plans’. Plans which apparently involved going to a party with a bunch of people that quite literally bullied them for years.
“Out of the basement and into the world, Wheeler.” Max had said and Mike never wanted to wipe the smirk off someone’s face that badly.
The worst part though, was when El told him that Will would bring a plus one. The one person in the world he would wish Vecna upon.
Carlton. Fucking. Kay.
Smoke was the first thing he noticed as he stepped into the house. It clouded the air into a dense, hazy nightmare. Waving his hand around didn’t help in the slightest. It started curling around his fingers, dancing along his breath at the slightest exhale.
A cough rasped its way out of his lungs, violent in nature. Not even his jock of a roommate would approve of this. For the record, Mike didn’t remember the last time he saw Jace sober.
Colours filtered through, blurring together with the haze. Too vibrant. Too much. A dark, dusky hue clung to his skin in return.
Was it too late to back out?
Someone clipped his side, making him stumble into somebody else entirely. People cluttered the space and voices overlapped with each other. Mike wouldn’t be able to make out a single word even if he tried.
Sound in here didn’t have a centre. The boom of the music came from everywhere, pressing into his head like a drill. As he looked to the side, he saw cups trembling in sync with the bass.
Pushing through the mass of people he didn’t know – or had never wanted to see again – led to nothing. Everything was the same no matter the direction or room he was in.
The corners and couches were occupied by entangled limbs and crashing lips. Every flat surface was used to hold up drinks that looked dangerously close to falling. There was a bong somewhere too and Mike was certain he had never seen anything produce this many fumes.
Faces and shapes bled together in the fog. Most likely the only reason why a cup was pushed into his hand. The liquid inside appeared black in the lighting. There was a lip stain on the side. Furrowing his eyebrows, Mike considered putting it down.
Entering the backyard was another mistake. The stench of sweat and chlorine hit his nose so aggressively Mike had to lean against a wall. Most of his former classmates were either shirtless or drenched. Their clothes soaked in alcohol and weed.
Somebody was passed out in the pool with a cup taped to his head. A few others threw ping pong balls into it. A girl missed and drank a shot afterwards.
What a party.
Right around the corner, a girl was vomiting into a bush while some guy held her hair back. A knot formed in Mike’s throat, sharp and insistent. The urge to gag was hard to fight off.
Why had Max and Lucas insisted on coming here again?
Heat wrapped around his face as Mike stepped back into the house. It crawled up his body, underneath his clothes until his skin felt wrong. The pool being used mid May made sense now. Another cough tore out of him, worse than the last.
A jab to his side was the final straw.
Mike Wheeler was officially ready to throw hands.
Bruises from all the pushing were bound to form so what were a few more?
He turned, mouth already open to throw a very appropriate insult. The face staring back at him with a smug grin made Mike shut it again.
“Long time no see, Wheeler.”
The mock in Max’s voice was a welcome distraction of whatever fever dream he had stepped into. Her red hair looked almost dark brown under these goddamn lights.
His overwhelming distaste for this party was apparently evident. Max reached out, patted his shoulder before clinking their cups together.
“Loosen up, have some fun!” Her tone made it seem more like a command than an offer. The plastic crinkled in Mike’s grip as he brought it to his lips, careful to avoid the smeared lip stain on the rim.
A burning sensation slid down his tongue, the bitter taste of… whatever he had just consumed almost made him retch again.
“Jesus, what do they put in these?”
Max shrugged at his question, taking another sip. If he didn’t know any better he’d presume gasoline was the answer.
Arms wrapped around his side without warning. Half of his drink spilled in the process. It seeped into the carpet below, invisible in the colour spectrum of the house.
“Mike! It’s so good to see you!”
El’s voice was happy, excited even. Slinging an arm around her shoulder, Mike embraced her in an awkward half hug. The cup still had some of its questionable contents left and he was not about to pour it over El in case he was pushed again.
“Yeah. Real nice. Now imagine how amazing it would have been literally anywhere else.” His reply was dry, unamused in a way only he could muster.
Eleven laughed anyway, shaking against his side. Tightening his fingers around the cup, he made sure the tremors wouldn’t dunk the rest on the floor.
She took his hand in hers, pulling him towards the living room. “Come! Let’s go see the others!” There was genuine joy in her tone and Mike didn’t have it in him to give another snarky remark.
The others, huh?
He cringed at the thought. Part of him had been waiting, preparing for it. The cologne, the shampoo he used this morning, even his clothes had been picked just for that moment. Yet, as they closed in on the small group gathered in the room, everything inside of him simply ached.
They hadn’t even pushed past half the people in the way, yet Will was the first to turn around. There was something in his gaze. Sharp, zeroing in on him. The intensity of it all made Mike’s knees weak.
Air seemed hard to come by, lungs squeezing together as he tried to maintain eye contact. The smoke he was passively inhaling was not helping.
It wasn’t relief, only sheer tension flooding him as they reached the group. El let go of his hand, reaching for a new drink on a shelf. Will was still staring at him, jaw set tight in a manner Mike hadn't seen in months.
Subconsciously, Mike reached for his neck, rubbing at the scars Will had left there years ago. A phantom pain shot through his veins at the contact, as if someone had injected him with ice.
He could feel Will’s eyes on his throat, on his fingers and the scars. Swallowing, Mike tightened the grip on his cup.
Time and space felt irrelevant. Everything narrowed down to the two of them. Will licked his teeth, a habit developed after he had turned and displayed whenever he set his eyes on a meal.
Something hot and unnerving spread in Mike’s chest. Settling right below his flailing lungs.
For a moment, he was back in his parents’ house.
Back when he was 16 and the Upside Down leaked into Hawkins with Demogorgons and Demodogs every other Tuesday.
Back to the moment when Will was being held down by Demobats. They had bitten into his neck time and time again until Mike had finally shot them down.
Back when that same gaze ended with fangs piercing Mike’s skin. Right above his shoulder. Every week without fail.
The delirium, the shivers, the gentle yet desperate grip on his waist were things Mike got drunk from.
Even now, the memory made his pulse race. The dryness of his throat an awkward reminder of how much Will still affected him. Not like Mike would have it any other way.
An arm snuck around Will’s shoulder and the fuzzy cloud of too many wants and needs popped.
Ah. There he was.
That motherfucker.
A burn blossomed inside his cheek as Mike bit into it.
Carlton fucking Kay.
The scowl on his face was intentional as he stared at the man. Black curly hair and clothes that screamed rich and preppy. This guy was by far the worst thing that came from the alliance a few years back.
If Mike had known back then what the future would bring, he would have voted against working with the military to defeat Vecna and the Mindflayer.
Carlton’s fingers were moving along Will’s shoulder, pulling him just an inch closer. Their sides pressed against each other, too close and intimate. Will let it happen, hazel eyes drifting from Mike to everywhere else.
The drink in his hand felt heavier than before. Swallowing the knot down his throat, Mike took another sip of the suspicious liquid. This time, he pretended not to know where the lip stain was.
The burn in his throat felt almost inviting in its sting. A bitter feeling nestled deep inside his chest and Mike knew it wasn’t from the drink in his hand. The plastic dipped underneath his grip.
Mike turned away before the sight could turn his stomach around fully. Something ugly coiled too deeply inside his chest, forcing his heart to thrum angrily against his ribcage.
Lifting the cup to his lips, Mike swallowed down the rest of its contents. It was better the third time around. A tingle hit his tongue, a creamy cherry taste spreading. The lip stain was almost gone now.
If Carlton got to touch Will, Mike could at least get drunk.
“Look who finally showed up.” There was a slight slur in Lucas' voice as he made his way towards Mike.
Frankly, Lucas stank. The stench of alcohol was etched onto his clothes and body. Still, Mike embraced him in a hug. The other stumbled and Mike wondered just how many drinks he’s had.
Lucas laughed at… something, teeth white in the neon glow. Swallowing down the urge to roll his eyes, Mike took a few steps back. His eyes flickered towards Will without meaning to.
Will remained quiet, listening to the conversation between El and Carlton. A sense of satisfaction filled him at how clipped and rushed El’s words were. Her body leaned the other way, foot tapping against the ground.
A smirk curled on his lips.
Serves him right.
Someone placed their hand on Mike’s shoulder.
“Empty?”
Turning around, a girl he didn’t recognise stared at him, then pointed at the crinkled cup in his hand. His knuckles had gone pale by now, clearly responsible for the cracks in the plastic.
Mike nodded, facing her properly now. Even as he tried to focus on her features, no name came to mind. His sweater lifted slightly, the stickiness on her hand responsible. It wasn’t much of a surprise at this point.
The girl smiled, dimples forming on her cheeks. As a giggle slipped from her lips, Mike sighed.
If everyone else was pretending to have fun, maybe he could too.
No-name-girl took his hand, pulling him away from the others. So much for a reunion with his friends. Though, ‘friends’ currently included Carlton meaning anywhere else was better than here.
A whistle and something dangerously close to ‘go get em tiger’ reached his ears. Probably Lucas. It was hard to discern voices with the music turned up to the fullest.
The cup in his hand was replaced by a new one. He considered checking for more stains on the rim but decided against it. The gulp he took was too big to be considered casual.
The girl he didn’t know said something he didn’t understand. He did however pick up on the flirty undertone – and as his eyes found Will’s across the room Mike forced a chuckle.
Time seemed to blur after Mike finished the fourth drink. By now he couldn’t taste the alcohol anymore. It was a sweet release of his too tightly bundled up nerves.
Ashley – he had learned her name by now – kept handing him drinks he gratefully accepted. Each conversation they had was more boring than the last but Mike laughed anyway.
At least they had their major in common. Literature. Though, talking about his college life with a girl he just met wasn’t exactly his way of spending a fun night.
“I can’t believe I’ve never seen you around before!” Ashley mused as she placed a hand on his chest. Mike bit back a sigh.
Perhaps if he drank more the fog in his mind and the haze of the house could make him pretend she was somebody else.
“Been living in New York the past two years.”
Ashley didn’t notice how dry his tone was. Her hair spilled over her shoulders as she nodded. Mike wasn’t sure which colour it had. Not like it mattered.
The music changed into something slower and desperate. It drifted through his mind and his body began to move by itself. Ashley must have picked up on it, her hand already gliding against his palm.
Once again he allowed her to pull him along. It wasn’t a conscious decision as his mind wandered back to Will. His friends must have left the living room at some point because Mike hadn't seen them for a while now.
The smoke cleared in the backyard yet faces still bled together. Though, the guy that had been in the pool earlier had disappeared.
People he didn’t bother to remember handed him drinks until his thoughts turned into a fuzzy mess. The neon lights drowned the pool until Mike wasn’t sure where bodies started and chlorine infested waters ended.
Others were dancing – or pushing. Either seemed plausible. His eyes flickered through the crowd, searching for a very specific haircut. Mike bit his lip until he spotted what he had been looking for.
Laughter forced itself out of Will after Carlton whispered something in his ear. They were standing too close together, swaying with the beat of the music. Only then did Mike notice the one pulled-up sleeve of Carlton’s shirt.
The two punctures were visible on his wrist. Furrowing his eyebrows, Mike tried to remember if he saw them earlier too.
Were they fresh?
Did Will feed from Carlton?
Mike emptied his eighth or so cup.
A surprised yelp squeezed through Ashley as Mike placed his hands on her waist. It wasn’t loud, not to human ears at least. The same intense gaze from earlier tore through Mike again and he couldn’t stop his lips from curling upward.
Ashley pulled him closer, hips moving in tandem with the bass. Her bright smile almost made him feel guilty. She wasn’t interesting to him, nor could he see any interactions between them past this party. But perhaps she too only wanted to have fun for one single night.
Somewhere between sweaty bodies and the music, Mike stopped caring. Part of him was convinced he might actually be enjoying himself. And in truth, he should be. This was everything he should be wishing for.
A pretty girl in his arms, very obviously flirting with him. Enough alcohol in his system to guarantee a nasty headache in the morning. The promise of a fun night lingered in the air, condensing inside his mind until it didn’t make sense anymore.
It was his decision, really. He could ask for her number, get to know her better after tomorrow. Maybe the only reason why she seemed so dull was because of the cluttered house.
Still his mind circled back to Will.
Will who was happily off somewhere with his… with Carlton.
Carlton who had been part of defeating Vecna and the Mindflayer.
Kind Carlton who knew of Will’s trauma, his past and what he really was.
Sweet Carlton who wasn’t Mike.
Who wasn’t there when Will went missing in the woods.
Never had to see the fake corpse of his best friend being pulled from the quarry.
Brave Carlton who didn’t jump off the cliff of said quarry because his mind kept replaying the idea of Will dying there.
He bit his cheek until it hurt. Mike should be happy for Will.
What was there to be happy about? Mike knew he would be better than Carlton. He’d trade the stars to see Will smile and give him the world if asked. There was a time when he was convinced a future together was in the cards for them.
As Ashley slung her arms around his neck a phantom sting ran through his spine. The time to play pretend was over and he knew it. Will Byers was his first love and apparently Mike would die single.
An elbow pushed into his back and something inside of him cracked. Snapping his head around, Mike saw another unrecognisable face. A guy with a smug grin on his face stared back at him.
“What the fuck, man?” He spat out, voice raised far above what he had intended.
Eyes locked onto him from every direction and even the music seemed shocked as it faded into the background. The guy said something as he went through his hair, smirk now gone. Mike couldn’t hear it.
There was this god awful ringing in his ears that doubled in volume with each passing second. Shapes and voices pressed against his chest, squeezing his lungs until oxygen seemed unreachable.
A hand found its way onto his shoulder and Mike struggled to face whoever it was. Exposed wrist with two puncture wounds, clearly fresh but not bleeding.
Fucking Carlton.
“You good?”
His arm twitched uselessly by his side as he resisted the fairly strong urge to punch Carlton in the face. The only reason he even mustered to keep his resolve was Will.
Sweet, handsome Will who stood right next to perfect, preppy Carlton. There was a crease in Will’s brows as hazel eyes flickered across Mike’s face.
“Let’s get out of here, Mike”, Ashley’s voice was soft even though it barely carried through the rush of blood he couldn’t unhear.
Gently, she took his wrist and led him out of the backyard. The unsteady beat of his heart didn’t quiet down even as they reached the bathroom.
It felt breathable here. No smoke, no neon lights, no alcohol. The slight stench of vomit clung to the air though. Certainly not the worst smell of the night.
Gripping the edge of the sink until his knuckles turned pale, a shaky exhale left his lips. The reflection in the mirror stopped looking like him after the second blink.
Flushed cheeks, bloodshot eyes and –
God, his hair was a mess. Black strands fell into his face, curls more prominent now than before. Even his red sweater looked worse for wear. It hung low on one side, showing off his shoulder and neck and the scars and –
His stomach almost lurched in response. The scars that used to be so vivid years ago had become lighter in colour. Barely visible unless standing within reaching distance. Cold seeped into his palms as he tightened his grip.
Those scars used to be something Mike wore with pride. The one thing he had that no one else did. The ones on Dustin's arm were so faded at this point that no one could tell if it was just a trick of the light.
A faint memory trickled into his mind. Back when Will tried to feed from somebody else for the first time. The disgusted look on his face after biting into Dustin’s arm. The way Will simply had to drink Mike’s blood afterward to ‘wash the taste away’.
Perhaps it had always been the delusion talking whenever Mike convinced himself he was special in some way. The only one with bite marks on his neck.
Not even Carlton shared that privilege. Mike’s only ever seen punctures on his wrist, never the neck. Which had been the only reason for the sweater choice this morning. Just to be petty, little Mike Wheeler. Trying to prove that in the end it would always be Will and Mike.
A scoff rolled off his tongue. As if.
Times were easier when Mike thought Will was straight.
Back when he accepted that they could never be more than best friends. Back when he couldn’t even act like a normal person around Will because too many feelings snapped into place.
Before he overheard Will coming out to his mother and Mike deluded himself into thinking he had a chance.
Ignorance was bliss. A sweet generosity he would never be able to indulge in again.
“Some party this is, am I right?” Ashley’s words snapped him out of his thoughts.
Opening his mouth to say something – anything, really – ended with tightly shut lips again. There was nothing to explain. Not a single thing that wouldn’t end up hurting rather than healing.
In the mirror Mike saw her hesitance. The girl chewed on her frowning lips until eventually they curled upward again. It never failed to amaze him how amusing his suffering was to others apparently.
“Just for the record, Bowl-Cut-Boy is missing out on some nice dance moves you got there.”
The entire world seemed to drop as she finished her sentence. Heart thrumming so hard in his ribcage Mike could feel it in his throat.
What did she just say?
Pain flared in his lungs as they crushed together, sharp and unwelcomed. Widened eyes locking onto the girl behind him. The same girl that had flirted with him just an hour ago was now dissecting him into who he really was.
Waving her arms around, blond hair fell across her shoulders. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m not gonna say anything”, her tone was similar to the one his mother used back when Mike had come out to her.
Words were stuck on his tongue, bitter in taste and feel. If earlier his instincts screamed fight, everything inside of him now begged for flight. His legs didn’t obey the thought.
“The world has bigger problems than boys kissing boys.” Her words tingled in his brain, cradling a part of him Mike didn’t know existed.
Something in her expression softened between a mix of understanding and sympathy. The cold of the sink turned soothing against his heated palms.
Swallowing, Mike turned. To both avoid looking at himself and to make sure he didn’t mishear.
“What did you say?” There was a crack in his voice he wasn’t comfortable with. A vulnerability he could discern as hope any day of the week.
The girl raised a brow, tapping her chin as she narrowed her green eyes. “Uhm, it’s okay to be gay?” It sounded more like a question and in any other scenario Mike might have laughed. He didn’t.
Clearing his throat, Mike’s gaze drifted to the white bathroom tiles. “About… Will.”
The clap of her hands made him look at her again. Her face lit up at the mention. At least he thought so. At this point he was unsure how much the alcohol affected his perception.
Perhaps this was all happening inside his head while he was passed out in the pool with a cup taped to his head.
“Oh! You mean Bowl-Cut-Boy!” As though he had already given her an answer, she nodded to herself. “I mean, you weren’t exactly subtle, you know?” The giggle bubbling out of her made his cheeks flush further.
“I may be drunk but I’m not blind, Mike. Your eyes kept flocking back to Bowl-Cut-Boy” – Mike had to bite his tongue so as to not correct her – “and whenever your knock-off appeared there was this scowl on your face.”
With a slight shake of the head, he grabbed her shoulders. There had to be some missing puzzle piece Mike wasn’t seeing and he felt incredibly stupid for it. With certainty he would have spotted someone who looked like him. Right?
“Who are you talking about?” Disbelief laced his words like filigree. Mouth pulled into a frown, it took Ashley a moment to reply.
“The guy that keeps hovering Bowl-Cut-Boy? You know. Tall, lanky, black curls”, she explained, slowly like Mike used to do with his sister when she was younger.
Eyes wide, he shook her shoulders and the rest of her with it. “You mean Carlton? The guy with the key necklace?”
Ashley seemed to ponder for a moment before shrugging. “No idea if he had that but probably. I mean, Bowl-Cut-Boy has the matching lock, no? Pretty cheesy if you ask me.”
Blinking, Mike could only nod in agreement. Something in his brain must have short-circuited because this shouldn’t be making sense. Carlton and him did have similar features but that had nothing to do with Will, right?
“You guys should really talk it through because wow – that cat and mouse play was a little too exhausting to watch.”
Mouth gaping, Mike could feel the dryness soaking his eyes at how much he’s been staring. “Cat and mouse? What even are you-”
“Mike. If eyes could devour, you would not be standing right now. Bowl-Cut – Will – would not let you out his sight for like, more than a minute. He was honestly worse than you”, she cut him off, winking at the end of her statement.
For the second time tonight the world seemed to tumble in on itself. The bright, white light burned on his skin. Everything and nothing clicked into place at the same time.
What?
The shakiness in his hands didn’t go unnoticed as he let them fall to his side. Breath heaving, Mike mumbled something about ‘air’ and ‘later’ before storming out of the bathroom.
Not a very polite way of leaving but what the fuck was he supposed to do?
Chest tightening further with every person he pushed through, Mike kept running.
Away from the smoke clinging to the air. The booming music that drilled an ache into his head. Away from that stupidly familiar feeling slithering through his nerves like poison.
He wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
Will was happy. Happy with somebody that wasn’t Mike.
The flimsy promise he had made to himself years ago rang in his ears. To extinguish every last remainder of hope and bury it too deeply and out of reach.
The flicker of it was intoxicating. Nastier than it had been ever since Will stopped tasting him. The sliver of hope felt brighter, burning rivers deep between his ribcage and lungs.
The silhouette of his friends in the centre of the room made him stumble. A shelf rumbled in response and two cups spilled. Lucas and Max were singing along to some stupid song Mike couldn’t understand.
He spun around, pushing back to where he came from. Sweat pooled on his forehead as heat crawled into his skin. Leaving a trail of shame in its wake once it reached his ears.
Mike had to get out of here.
Every direction was clustered, filtered by noise compressing into shapes and pushing against faces. The front door was off limits because frankly, his friends were there which meant Will couldn’t be far.
A tremor wrecked through his spine at the thought of fleeing into the backyard. The memory of shocked faces and punctured wrists and the concern on Will’s face and –
Not an option.
A stairwell appeared in his view. Oak wood bending around the walls, leading up to a place he probably wasn’t supposed to go. His legs moved before he could dwell on it.
Upstairs was surprisingly quiet. The haze from below reached halfway up the stairwell until it dissipated into the background.
Music, which really shouldn’t qualify as such, vibrated through the floor. It was muted – which was good because it allowed him to gulp air – but also horribly wrong because it allowed him to think.
In a desperate attempt to focus on anything but the thoughts plaguing his mind, Mike started counting the pictures hanging on the walls. The hallway was tight yet offered more space than he’s had the last few hours anyway.
Stacey’s graduation photo hung above a drawer, the orange of the robes clung to his eyes like tar.
“Fuck.”
Backing away, Mike slid down the wall, hands covering his face.
Everywhere he looked were reminders. Will had looked good in those orange robes. The bright grin on his face was something Mike would never forget. The picture they took together that day still hung in his room.
Mind wandering back to the bathroom, he tried to swallow down that stupid flicker inside of him. Ashley couldn’t just drop something like that on him and expect him to fine. Because how in the world was he supposed to un-know it now?
It made no sense, he tried to remind himself. In fact, it was so far beyond sense that it left his head spinning. If she was right and Will did want him then why was he with Carlton? Pulling his knees further to his chest, Mike let out a shaky exhale.
Something ugly stirred inside of him and for a moment Mike wished he had never offered his neck to Will in the first place. Guilt gnawed at him, festered until his nails dug into his palms.
The first few weeks after Will had turned were terrifying. No one knew what to do, only that they had to do something. Blood was the only way to satisfy the never ending hunger and for whatever reason Mike’s did wonders.
Offering some of his life to spare Will from pain had been the easiest decision he has ever made. Deep down, Mike knew he would do it again in a heartbeat.
The tremble in his hands lessened at the thought.
Soft thuds climbed the stairs until they were muted by the beige carpet on the floor. Eyes closed, he decided to ignore the person. They probably got lost trying to find their way to someplace their drunken mind conjured up last second.
The footsteps stopped before him. A shift of their feet, a rustle of fabric and the scrape of shoes against carpet followed. Scrunching up his nose, Mike made no attempt at connection. Not even up here was he allowed peace.
Something moved again and if Mike had it in him, he would have snapped at the person by now.
Cold breath cradled his jaw and his heart skipped a beat.
“Why are you up here?” A shiver ran down his spine at the pure gentleness in Will’s voice. Every part of his body ached and his eyes burnt with unshed tears.
A dry chuckle slipped out of him. “Does it matter?”
Mike kept his eyes closed because he knew he was being unfair. Will didn’t do anything wrong and certainly didn’t deserve this.
The response came in a low and deep hum. It’d be a lie to say Mike’s legs weren’t trembling.
A beat passed in which his breath shook more than the floor beneath them. His chest tightened as a hand was placed on his knee. The cold of Will’s skin seeped through his jeans. It felt both soothing and chilling at the same time.
“We… we were looking for you.”
He couldn’t help but scoff at the words. The picture of Lucas and Max singing downstairs flickered inside his mind. With a shake of his knee, Will’s hand fell off it. Warmth returned and settled uncomfortable on the denim.
“Yeah, right.” A tremor wrecked through his own voice and Mike hated himself for it.
It didn’t bother him that his friends were downstairs partying. That’s what they came here for after all. In the backyard, he was the one who had snapped. Even ended up leaving with a girl that they probably considered his potential love interest.
Yet, the fact that Will was blatantly lying to his face got ugliness rooted in shame to coil deep inside his stomach. A long, silent pause stretched between them and Mike swore he could taste the tension on his tongue.
As he opened his eyes, regret flooded him so suddenly his breath hitched in tandem. Will’s gaze was fixated on Mike. The dishevelled, flushed, messy version of himself he never wanted anyone to see.
Will’s eyes bore into him with such intensity Mike wasn’t sure he could survive for much longer.
“Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?” The last words he spat like venom.
He didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. In fact, he wasn’t supposed to say it at all. The darkened expression on Will’s face made him swallow. A step off the ledge is what it was.
Will stood up, staring down at him with crossed arms. “Carlton has nothing to do with this.”
Oh, but he did.
Carlton had everything to do with what was happening.
Tightening his jaw, Mike pressed his hands into the carpet until his knuckles turned white. An apology trickled onto his tongue, pressing against it until it refused to come out.
At the same time his mind reeled.
Will didn’t get to just be kind and look for him.
Not when Mike couldn’t un-hear what Ashley had said earlier.
Not when that flicker of hope turned into a fire of spite.
Pushing himself off the floor, he narrowed his eyes. Even though Mike was half a head taller than Will, it really didn’t feel like it.
“Oh, really? Is that what you think?” There was an edge to his own voice that Mike didn’t recognise. Perhaps he should cut off his alcohol-loosened tongue. Stop himself from saying things he wasn’t supposed to, yet meant with every drum of his heart.
“As far as I remember, you were the one who stormed off with some girl–”
Will articulated with his hands, every gesture an accusation until Mike’s lungs seized.
“– instead of talking to me. I am the one who came looking for you. You don’t get to just turn this around and make me look like the bad guy.”
The raw honesty spread like filthy poison in his mind. It was true, all of it. There was no reason for him to pretend it wasn’t. He did the only thing his dosed self could think of.
Mike sneered. “What else am I supposed to do when you’re out there playing house with him?”
They were closer than they’d been in months as Will took a step forward. Eyes rolling, Mike steadied himself against the wall. It pressed against his back like a warning. Something was about to give and Mike hoped it wouldn’t be him.
“Playing house? You think that’s what it is?” Will’s voice was low, a sound dangerously close to a rumble woven seamlessly into it.
The gaze he received left him dizzy. There was a glow in Will’s red rimmed eyes and it took everything he had to not look away.
“Isn’t it? You’re out there, letting him touch you like he fucking owns you.” His voice broke halfway through the sentence. Mike didn’t have it in him to care.
To make a point, Mike hooked a finger under the lock necklace Will wore. A scowl slipped onto his face and he didn’t bother hiding it.
The other didn’t flinch even as Mike pulled on that stupid, silver thing that screamed ownership and everything he couldn’t have right into this face.
“How does that matter?” Frustration tinged Will’s voice in a way that made Mike’s stomach drop.
Twisting the necklace around his finger, he pulled it – and in turn, Will – closer. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Mike pressed his heel against the wall behind him.
“It matters a whole lot, actually.” His words sounded like bark without a bite.
What a pathetic excuse of a best friend Mike Wheeler was.
The throb in his chest doubled with each second he spent staring at that dumb lock.
Will grabbed his wrist, tight and unyielding. Mike swallowed hard as the sheer cold soaked his heated skin. The necklace slipped from his fingers, dangling around until it stilled against Will’s chest.
“And why’s that?” There was a sharp, controlled undertone as Will spoke. Something Mike wasn’t used to hearing. That didn’t stop him from pressing further against the wall though.
His lip ached as he bit into it. Words he didn’t know were stuck in his throat, closing the space until it became hard to breathe.
As his head tilted to the side, Will’s eyes flickered over his face. Drifting lower as Mike’s Adams Apple bobbed.
A coppery taste spread across Mike’s tongue as his teeth bit down for the up-tenth time. The air shifted into something so feral it left his head spinning.
The grip on his wrist tightened and an ache travelled through Mike’s hand. The tension was so thick he could feel it in his bones, startling and nerve-wrecking in nature.
Will’s gaze was fixated on his lips. On the small, red blotch staining them. He licked his teeth – no, fangs. They had darted out, shining in the light of the hallway.
“Mike…” Will’s voice was tight and there was a warning edge Mike could feel in his chest. “Don’t.”
Everything inside of him screamed. Something hot coiled deep and low in his stomach. The slight tremble of the fingers around his wrist pushed him over the edge.
On purpose, Mike pressed his teeth just a tad deeper, a tickle of blood spread anew. The corners of his mouth curled upward at the sight before him. Will’s lips parted, fangs more obvious than before and his pupils were blown wide.
Leaning down, Mike let his breath ghost over Will’s face. “Or what?”
That did it.
He wasn’t sure who moved first. Only that their lips crashed against each other, desperate and hungry in a way that had Mike stumbling. Will’s grip never faltered even as he pinned Mike’s hand against the wall. The texture was rough, digging into his skin until it hurt.
A hand found his waist amidst the heat, fingers moving below Mike’s sweater and pressing into his hip. It forced a gasp out of him between the mess of tongues meeting each other for the first time.
His chest tightened, the distance between them shrank faster than his ability to think. Sense was hard to come by when their bodies pressed against each other. Fangs grazed his lower lip, caught briefly on the slick of copper at Mike’s mouth.
Mike’s own hand moved, reckless and desperate as he curled his fingers in Will’s hair, tilting the other’s head back. A groan rasped through Will at the motion, sending a violent shiver through Mike’s spine.
Fangs nicked his tongue and it made his chest thrum like it wanted to break. Their noses brushed, breaths entwining, heat and cold colliding until thinking became impossible.
His pinned hand shook with small tremors, fingers twitching uselessly until Mike dug his nails into his palm.
The grip on his wrist loosened and Mike itched to tangle it into Will’s shirt. That idea was thrown out the window as Will moved his hand upward, palms gliding against each other until their fingers intertwined.
Their lips parted, a string of saliva connecting them to each other before breaking. Heavy breaths left them both in uneven certainty. Will licked his fangs again, eyes flicking back to Mike’s mouth.
Call him petty and delusional, but at this point he was certain there was no more ‘misreading the situation’.
Tightening his grip in soft, brown hair, Mike let his tongue touch the shell of Will’s ear. “That’s why it matters”, he whispered, a rasp present in his voice.
The ghost of a smirk flashed across Will’s face. He pulled Mike flush against him, mouth hovering above his shoulder. Slow, deliberate kisses danced on his skin and his breath hitched.
Mike felt his knees buckle as sharp fangs slid over the barely-there bite marks. Instinctively, he curled his fingers around Will’s. A sense of comfort washed over him once Will squeezed back.
As Will’s tongue darted out, licking right along his pulse point, Mike had to bite back a moan. A shiver wrecked through him as he felt a murmur against his heated skin.
He tried to steady himself, but his legs betrayed him. Knees wobbling – quivering until he stumbled forward. Will let his hand glide, sliding it around Mike’s back until his palm pressed against the small of it.
“You okay?” The softness in Will’s voice made it worse.
Heart hammering against his ribcage, Mike barely mustered an answer.
“I- Yeah.”
He wasn’t.
And the other knew that apparently.
With a gentleness so different from the bruising kisses they shared just moments ago, Will turned them around, leading Mike to someplace he didn’t know.
A door clicked open and together they stumbled through the dark of the room. Perhaps it was only him stumbling because Will navigated the direction until Mike felt something soft against the back of his knees.
It took but a small push for him to fall onto whatever surface. A mattress. It dipped underneath his weight. Will followed without hesitation, hovering above him.
Mike couldn’t see properly but he felt the cold radiating off Will. Even through their jeans, it seeped through denim as Will’s legs pressed against his thighs.
One hand found his waist, sliding below his sweater and drawing soft circles. The touch forced goosebumps all the way to his shoulders, soothing on his flushed skin.
Will’s other hand tangled in Mike’s curls, tilting his head into the right position. A shudder zipped through him.
As lips touched his throat once more, Mike let the moan he’d been holding onto slip out.
It felt wrong.
It felt right.
It felt like everything he’s ever needed and more.
His pulse was racing, Mike knew. He felt it thrum as Will let his tongue glide above it. All his nerve endings were on fire, shivers buzzing in every muscle.
Will chuckled against his throat, the sound raspy and low. “You’re shaking, Mike.”
His lips parted in response, breath trembling as it left him. “Am.. not.”
It was hard to form a single coherent sentence when Will teasingly placed his fangs above the bite marks. A mumbled “liar” against his skin forced a sound somewhere between whine and groan out of Mike.
Teeth grazing his pulse once more, Will hummed into his shoulder. A quiet question. One that had ingrained itself so deeply into Mike it was impossible to forget.
Something sweet bloomed inside of him at the memory. Just like all the past times they’d been in this situation, all the silent rituals that came with it. Will remembered and that felt intoxicating.
“I’m all yours”, Mike whispered, permission entangled with a confession that had been written on his heart for years.
His arms flailed, fingers digging into Will’s back as his skin was pierced. If his legs hadn’t been trapped, they’d undoubtedly be twitching now.
A low, satisfied groan rumbled through Will as his fangs sunk deeper. A rush, alive and burning spread through Mike’s veins and he wondered if Will could taste it.
Ragged gasps escaped his lips as the burn on his neck intensified. The alcohol numbed the pain and Mike couldn’t wait until he was sober again to feel the full of it.
Something wasn’t right. It pressed into his chest, harsh and unwelcomed.
The lock.
It was like drowning and burning at the same time.
Will stilled above him and a tinge of guilt threw itself into the ugliness twisting inside Mike’s stomach. Feeling affected taste, he knew that. Will had told him after the first few times. The conversation of how Mike’s fear and disdain were the worst of them all came to mind.
The following thought was a dangerous one. One Mike had played with a single time in his life. It was stupid of him to even consider it. But, if there had ever been a time to test a theory, it was now.
Hands gripping onto Will’s hair, Mike didn’t give a warning before pulling the other away from his neck.
A spark – electric, harsh, unnerving – ran through his body in an instant. His nerves couldn’t decide whether they were too cold or too hot. A whine trembled out of his lips and his eyes stung. Lungs jamming into each other, Mike wasn’t sure if he was still breathing. Lashes clinging together, he could barely see the shape of Will.
Fuck.
“Mike?! Are you – Mike!”
He could hear the fear in Will’s voice and he would have felt bad if it wasn’t for the overwhelming sense of… too many things at once.
Colours exploded in front of shut eyelids. It reminded him of the trip he had once after too much alcohol and weed mixed together inside of him.
Good? Bad? Mike couldn’t tell.
“Jesus – Mike! Why did you – Mike please!“ Will’s words broke in the middle, in the beginning. Somewhere along the line they rushed through his mind.
Ripping a literal vampire off his neck had been, truthfully, not his best idea. Will’s fangs must have nicked something and Mike felt the full force of it. All his fault, really.
If Will pulled his fangs out in the same, precise way he always did, it would reduce the scarring to a minimum. They should stay this time around because frankly, Mike’s had enough of waiting and fading marks.
“I’m okay.” He managed to force through grit teeth, the pain subsiding slowly but steadily. Mike could barely feel it as Will’s palm pressed onto his shoulder.
Was he bleeding a lot?
“Why would you do that?!” Will’s voice was raised, pitch high and accusatory.
Fair enough.
A chuckle rippled through him and Mike was about halfway sure it was because of the delirium he felt.
“I don’t want them to fade again.”
There was a pause and he considered the possibility of having passed out before he had finished his sentence. Though, that wasn’t true because sensations returned to him, properly this time.
The pressure on his shoulder was gentle yet firm and Mike could feel Will shaking above him. With anger or fear, he couldn’t tell.
“You’re an absolute idiot, Michael.” There was no real malice in Will’s words and a smile slipped onto Mike’s lips before he could think better of it.
Fingers hooking in Will’s necklace, Mike pulled them closer again.
“I know”, he whispered before their lips crashed against one another.
A metallic taste spread in his mouth as their tongues met, hungrier than before. Every little swallow he made was accompanied by copper.
Will’s hand left his shoulder as it slid onto his cheek. The slick of his own blood made it easier, faster and better than he thought possible. It smeared as they kissed and Mike enjoyed every second of it.
He let one hand touch the punctures on his skin, the thick liquid of his life colouring it red.
Heaving breaths stacked on top of each other each time they parted. It cooled the heat of the bloody stains on Mike’s jaw.
It was harder than he’d anticipated to move his hand to Will’s neck and cheek, the red substance making it slippery.
Opening his eyes just for a glance, Mike felt heat pooling low in his stomach. Will looked utterly perfect with Mike’s blood on his face. Their hips met, and it got even worse.
He pulled on the necklace again, more desperate and insistent than before. A groan rasped out of Mike as it finally snapped.
Will froze for a moment – until he didn’t.
He pulled Mike flush against him, and this time it felt like relief and hope and romance and everything good in the world.