Archive of Our Own

“It’s just for couples?”

Max scoffed, derisive and judgemental from the moment Mike had opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, doofus, of course it's for couples! What’d you think a ‘Valentine’s discount’ would be?”

Mike’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, his brows furrowed in exasperation — a common reaction to Max speaking to him, everyone knew. The two bickered every single day without end, ridiculing one another as if they enjoyed it. Maybe they did.

Mike made a little noise of offense, his jaw dropping wider as his hand waved in the air senselessly — scrambling for a defense where there really wasn't one.

“I just— I don't think that's fair!” He protested at last, scowling at Max with a curled lip. Max shot a nearly-identical look back at him, visibly gearing up to berate the lanky boy.

Near them, Will shuffled where he sat on one of the outdoor tables, his feet planted on the bench below him, his elbows propped on his knees as he idly tuned into the exchange. El was perched on the bench next to him, her shoulder pressing lightly against the side of his knee, her fingers drumming a beat against her thigh boredly. Lucas and Dustin were only a few feet away, debating something under their breath related to D&D — they’d just left Mike’s house after a Party sleepover, having stayed up late into the night battling Demogorgons and frost-breathing dragons in what had been almost a day-long oneshot campaign. They’d spent the morning cleaning up their mess in the basement before they’d all deliberated on what to do. Ultimately, they’d agreed to head out — Starcourt Mall wasn’t always the group’s top pick on account of the crowds, but they’d gotten lucky today. The mall was emptier than usual, with a significant chunk of the usual mall-goers missing from the pleasantly air-conditioned building.

Things had been fine on the bike ride over, and even in the ten minutes they’d been arguing over which movie they should buy tickets for to watch — a rerun of Back to the Future, or a new comedy that they’d seen a couple of posters for in passing — when they'd all seen the first advertisement that had shifted the course of their day.

With a peachy-pink toned backdrop, and with an excessive amount of hearts, there they had witnessed the first out of many ads declaring the Valentine’s Day Discount!

What was this discount, you may ask?

Well, according to every single advert from the front of the mall to the very back end of it, all hung in various sizes and with eye-catching exclamation points in bright pink and red, it was a couples discount for Valentine’s day. A half-price ticket to any movie playing in the theaters day-of, with a free popcorn and drink — large, to share of course. Because couples shared their food with each other. To top it all off, Scoops Ahoy had paired with Starcourt Mall Movie Theater to toss in a free ice cream sundae, for couples (of course) that brought in their movie tickets as payment, or maybe proof. 

Will wasn't entirely sure why it mattered, since anyone could play at being together for a cheap movie and free food, but he supposed people who were dating and wanted to enjoy the holiday would probably rejoice. Really, he knew El was excited — it was impossible to think Dustin wouldn't ask her to go with him by the end of the day, so she’d have a guaranteed good time with him. Lucas and Max were sometimes harder to pin down; Max always scrunched her nose in distaste at Valentine's ads and commercials, ranting quite passionately about how lame ‘those kinds of things’ could be, but Will also knew Max liked it whenever Lucas asked her out on dates, even if it was corny, because it was Lucas.

Privately, Will couldn't exactly lie to himself either; beyond the oozing sweetness of targeted capitalism that Valentine’s day inspired, with themed aisles in stores and expensive boxes of chocolate, he wanted something like that. Something sweet, maybe too-sweet in a way, maybe sappy or corny like Lucas, or endearingly attentive and considerate like Dustin. He wanted someone to hold his hand and ask him if he wanted to go out on Valentine's just to revel in the free food and time spent together, even if the movies playing weren't great and the popcorn ended up burnt.

Not for lack of wanting it, Will did not have that.

And — much to both his relief and pain all at once — neither did Mike.

Mike, who had seen the first mention of a discount and had perked up before realizing, tragically, that he did not have a date, and therefore could not capitalize on the opportunity for all the cheap and free things on Valentine’s.

Mike, who — like Will — would likely be spending the day alone and bored out of his mind.

Maybe, Will mused to himself, they could spend the day together. Of course, Will’s heart sang at the idea of that, but he didn't mean it in that way at all. Sure, Will would have loved it if Mike were to ask him on a date, or to be his Valentine, or something that all the other teens got to do with their crushes — but Mike wasn't like that. Like Will.

And that was fine.

Really, if Mike wanted to spend time with Will at all while their friends attended their discounted movie double-date, then Will would jump at the chance to spend the day with his best friend. That’s what he always did, and it was very likely what he’d always do.

The thought made him sigh, a little sad, but not entirely put-off about it either. He was beginning to accept (or, pretend to accept) that he would love Mike for a while, and Mike wouldn't love him, and soon enough he'd move on. According to Robin, that was sort of how things went.

(“Tammy Thompson,” Robin had said to him in a sagely tone one day, her hands clasping his shoulders tightly and her bright eyes locked with his, solemn and deep. 

“Who?” He’d sputtered, blinking stupidly at his friend.

“A menace.” She’d hissed, looking a hint deranged, before she’d abruptly released him and continued on like nothing had happened at all. 

Anytime he'd mentioned it going forward, she'd seemed genuinely perplexed about the encounter, as if she didn't remember anything like it — eventually, with great reluctance and confusion, he had dropped the matter entirely.)

In terms of Mike Wheeler currently, he looked a little frazzled when his head whipped suddenly to the side, his eyes locking into Will like he’d just said something heinous. Will blinked in shock, straightening from his slumped position, and felt El as she shifted next to him. She sent him a questioning glance, but it was Mike who spoke first.

In a complete 180 from his snappish tones with Max and his harsh glowering, Mike’s expression was all open concern, and his voice met Will’s ears at a lower, gentle register when he asked, “You okay?”

Will let his eyebrows raise, unable to hide his momentary confusion.

“Yeah? I’m alright.”

“You sighed weird,” Mike insisted, his right brow twitching lower. Max snorted, but even that didn't pull Mike’s attention back to their little back-and-forth.

At Will’s side, El snuck a hand around his ankle, squeezing it once, then twice with a stuttered pause between. Will glanced at her, finding her already looking back with a look of unbridled amusement, her eyes full of a knowing that made Will flush pink in embarrassment.

“I’m fine, Mike. Don't worry.” He promised stiltedly, flicking his eyes back to Mike to take in the way the boy’s eyes flashed with something unreadable, the line of his mouth tensed as he studied Will closely. After a moment, he nodded reluctantly.

Instead of turning back to Max to continue bickering, as Will had suspected he might, Mike moved to Will’s side. He nudged Will’s shoulder pointedly with his own, silently urging both El and Will to scooch over. With a bit of a huff from El, and a good-natured chuckle from himself, they obliged him and he slotted into place, thigh aligned with Will’s, their arms pressed together comfortably.

Lucas and Dustin made their way closer, slipping into conversation naturally as El and Max shifted their attention. Will thought, at least for a moment, that the Valentine’s discount had been forgotten.

Mike hummed, low in his throat — quiet enough that only Will heard it, angling his head towards his best friend in order to prompt the words that were sitting in Mike’s throat.

“I still don't think it’s fair,” Mike mumbled, leaning in closer — likely to prevent Max from hearing, Will assumed as he felt Mike’s breath brush his ear lobe. He hummed softly in return, prompting.

“What?” Will returned, keeping his eyes on his friends, as if that could hide the side conversation he was having. He wasn't sure why it felt like he and Mike were whispering secrets to one another; he wasn’t even sure what Mike was talking about.

Mike made a soft noise right into Will’s ear, and he fought back a little involuntary shudder at it. Mike said, a hint of petulance in his tone, “That dumb discount. Max and Lucas, Dustin and El — obviously they're all gonna go. What are we supposed to do?” He huffed, “Just sit and do nothing all day?”

He pressed further into Will, like the closer they were, the more he could push his own indignation until Will adopted it as his own. Unfortunately for him, Will liked to make things difficult for Mike every once in a while.

He laughed softly under his breath, finally giving in to himself and looking at Mike. “We could always join them,” he suggested with a teasing smile. “Just, you know. Pay full price for everything. Who needs a discount when you can just crash the double date with a freshly-emptied wallet?”

He let his smile widen, his eyebrows quirking expectantly as he watched Mike. He expected Mike to laugh, to nod and start picking up and adding to the joke — maybe something about tossing popcorn kernels at Dustin whenever he tried to hold El’s hand, or throwing Lucas a thumbs down in the theater whenever he whispered something particularly corny to Max.

That didn't happen.

No — what happened was Mike got this look on his face, one Will recognized instantly and felt an inkling of fear over, alongside a rush of curiosity.

This was Mike’s contemplative look. The look he got when he was about to suggest something ludicrous, or something mildly insane, but hilarious in theory. In practice? A disaster waiting to happen. This was the type of look Mike got in second grade, right before he would say something like, hey, why don’t we stick a wad of gum to Troy Walsh’s chair so he has gum stuck to his pants all day?

(That particular idea had gotten them both slammed into lockers, but they’d been lucky when a teacher had interfered before anything could escalate. It’d been one of the few times they’d actually done anything one could consider petty towards their childhood bully. Will remembered being a conflicting mix of terrified and thrilled by it — more terrified when his back had hit that locker and Troy had loomed over him.

Mike hadn't suggested anything similar after that day. Will figured that was for the best, but he'd never really pieced together what exactly had deterred Mike so much.)

Mike said after a few seconds, “Full price? Who do you think I am?”

He said it like the joke Will had been waiting for, but there was something to his voice that made Will pause. There was still that look in his eyes, stuck on some middle-distance as he puzzled something out, his lips pursing slightly in thought.

“Okay,” Will conceded easily, “what, then? Are you thinking we sneak in?” A beat, “I think we both know our stealth sucks. Knowing our luck, one of us would definitely roll a nat 1. We'd both get caught.”

Mike laughed, coming back to himself with it. Will warmed at the sound, feeling his smile soften at the edges, gooey. He was so obvious sometimes that it was embarrassing, but he couldn't help it much.

“No, definitely no sneaking in,” Mike humored his referencing, head shaking. “Paladins are the worst at stealth. You're right, we'd get caught. Jailed for trespassing, even. No, no — I’m thinking of something else.”

Will glanced to the side, tuning only briefly into the conversation the others had fallen into. Less a conversation, and more another debate. Movies were still the hot topic of the hour. He heard Max say something about not sitting through another fucking S— before he let their voices fall back into a pleasant background noise.

“What're you thinking?” He asked.

Mike didn't answer immediately.

Maybe that should've been a warning to Will, who knew Mike better than anyone. Maybe the thought he was putting into a random idea over a Valentine's discount should've alerted Will to something a little deeper. Maybe Will could've seen his own unraveling coming, if he'd just been a bit more on top of things.

But he wasn't — and he didn't take the silence as the warning it was, as the signal preparing his impending doom.

Mike said, slowly, like he was tasting the words for himself as much as he was speaking them to Will, “Why don't we… Go together?”

Something in Will’s brain was not processing this the way it should be.

“Together… As in — sneak in?” He repeated stupidly, blinking at Mike like he’d just spoken an entirely different language.

Maybe he had. Maybe that was why Will was struggling to understand him.

Mike’s brows furrowed. “No. Together. Like, as each other’s dates.”

There was a pause, loaded.

“I mean—! Like, like fake dates. Like we just — we pretend to be together so we can, you know—”

Will didn't know, actually. In fact, he felt like he didn't know anything at all.

“I—” he started, only for Mike to barrel on over him.

“We don't have to! But I mean, we definitely could. We could make it like it's a triple date. We could do it. I think we could be a pretty convincing couple.” Mike’s cheeks were a fearsome shade of red, nearly enough to cause concern — save for the fact Will knew his own cheeks were set aflame with a vengeance. “We could get the half priced tickets, the food — all of it. And we wouldn't have to be alone on Valentine's. Not that I wouldn't enjoy being with you anyways, if we did just, you know, stay home. We could hang out at my house too, right? I just figured it’d be fun to, uhm, hang out with everyone still. But I’m fine with whatever if you’re with me. Wait—” Mike’s eyes were wide, his hands raised halfway between them like if he tried hard enough, he could grab his own words out of the air and stuff them back into his mouth.

Will, typically the one who could halt Mike’s rambling, was a bit too stunned to speak.

There was another squeeze to his ankle. El. He stiffly turned his head to her, and saw her biting down a laugh.

Mike did not notice this, pulling a large breath into his lungs, ready to continue his tangent — when Lucas spoke up.

Will wasn't sure when the rest of the Party had stopped arguing and started listening in on their conversation. With a pool of shame in his belly, Will wished he could simply disappear in a puff of smoke. Or that the world underneath him would rip open and he could be taken into an alternate dimension, or something. He squeezed his eyes shut, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands.

Lucas asked, and Will could tell he was keeping his tone very carefully neutral on purpose, “You guys are joining us on the couples’ date on Valentine's?”

A long pause, where neither Mike or Will could beat down their fluster enough to speak. Will could hear Mike make an attempt, but all that escaped him was a strangled noise, like he’d just choked on air.

Lucas continued, unperturbed, “That’s cool. A triple-date! We've never done that before.” 

Someone — Max, Will could recognize that devious evil in her tone — muffled a giggle into the palm of their hand. Still, he was too afraid to look.

There was another long beat of silence, the rest of the Party practically vibrating as they waited for Mike and Will to inevitably deny that. Of course they weren't going to go on a date. Even a fake one. Best friends didn't — they didn't do that.

Mike cleared his throat, and Will thought, thank God. He'll clear this up.

And then Mike said, “Yeah. A triple-date. That’d be fun, don't you think, Will?”

If looks could kill.

Will opened his eyes, startled and vaguely murderous as he shot Mike a betrayed look. Oddly enough, Mike looked rather pleased with himself.

“Uhm,” Will sounded like he’d just been strangled by a particularly aggressive scarf. “Yeah. Yeah, sounds — sounds great.”

He could tell that they all knew he was dying on the inside, but not one of them commented on it. Max shot him a shit-eating grin, and El just looked excited at the prospect of all of them going together — which, was actually kind of sweet. Will softened at his sister’s excitement.

Dustin and Lucas both looked too casual to actually be casual, nodding their heads in sync with both their hands clasped together like movie villains, terrifyingly in tune with one another. They both squinted at Mike, looking vaguely approving. Will swore he saw Dustin shoot Mike a little thumbs up.

The culprit himself stared at Will, digesting his reaction like it held some higher meaning to him. 

“Really?” Mike asked him, his eyes widening and his lips parting so prettily that it made Will’s heart ache. He sounded so sincere, so vulnerable.

Will crumbled like a Jenga tower.

He murmured, “Yeah. It does.”

Mike’s expression relaxed, and the smile Will had apparently earned was bright, easy-going. It was charming.

“Cool,” Mike answered, his tone much more enthusiastic. Will bit his tongue, worried that if he tried to speak, he’d vomit up his guts in front of all his friends — his guts, his secrets, and most prominently, his heart. A visual equal parts mortifying and horrifying.

“Okay,” Max interjected, still looking at Will with an expression that unnerved him with how conniving it was. “So we have two movie days to work with now. What are we watching today?”

Just like that, the movie debate resurged like a wildfire — the Valentine’s discount dilemma was forgotten.

→

Will had, unfortunately, not forgotten about this dilemma at all. In fact, in the days leading up to Valentine’s, he'd been quite torn up over it.

Much to his grief, no one else had brought it up again.

This was typical — when the Party made plans, it went rather seamlessly. Where were they meeting, what time, what day, done. Everything else worked itself out. There'd never been any need for meticulous detailing, or exact, down-to-the-minute scheduling. They agreed on where to go, got there, and let the rest of the day be dictated by rash decisions and group-votes, majority-wins. That was how things worked. Once it was mentioned and agreed upon, there was only a matter of waiting for the day to come — and the days where they planned hangouts only really involved things like going out to the mall, or the arcade. Even between their planned days, the Party hung out frequently. El had once compared them all to a school of fish, swimming to all the same places all the time. Will didn't get it entirely, but he hadn't disagreed with her either.

That was posing a problem, now, because Mike hadn't yet revealed to him that, surprise, he had been joking! Of course they wouldn't be going on a date. Or a fake-date either, for that matter. Why would Mike bring it up, when they'd never brought up their hangouts before to discuss additional details? It was abnormal!

Then again, going on a date — fake-date — with Mike was equally abnormal. He wasn't sure if they cancelled each other out or not, and he was too afraid to ask.

So Will was just… Going with the flow of things. Worst case scenario — or, maybe best case, in regards to his own feelings? He wasn’t sure — Mike was serious and they went out, got cheap tickets and some free food, and had a good time teasing their friends and watching a movie.

Worst case scenario, it really was just him and Mike faking it for a nice day out.

That made him feel marginally better. He avoided thinking about what a best case scenario would imply.

Despite his moaning and groaning and nerves about the mysteries of the mind within Mike Wheeler’s skull, Valentine's day inevitably arrived with a beautiful sunrise and birdsong.

It felt like the beginning of a cheesy romance movie, Will realized, watching thick lines of clouds streak across the sky like white paint mixed into the swirling depths of a cup of water.

Max called El early, just for the two to chat, and then Dustin came over to the Byers-Hopper household with flowers and chocolate for El, and extra chocolate that he’d gotten for Will. The hour they spent together as a trio was both fun and sickeningly sweet to witness, but Will didn't mind at all. 

When Lucas and Max stopped by for the five of them to ride over to the mall together, Max and Lucas were both sporting matching charm bracelets. Cute, Will thought, though admittedly not without a brief moment in which he wished for something like that for himself.

They were missing someone, though, and so he asked Lucas, “Where’s Mike?”

Max answered just as Lucas was opening his mouth to speak, “Oh, don't worry about that. Loverboy had things he had to do. He'll meet us there.”

She pet his head, and it felt both mocking and wholly comforting in a way that Max had mastered over the years. He didn't ask more, reminding himself that he was going with the flow. The flow probably wouldn't like him questioning everything about Mike’s demeanor in order to puzzle out what sort of things he had to do before a fake-date with Will.

So he said, “Oh — okay.” And he tried to act like he wasn't as nervous as he felt.

This didn't work, as he saw every single Party member glance his way at least twice on the bike ride over. But he could ignore that.

What he couldn't quite ignore was, upon reaching the mall, Mike, leaning against the wall near the bike racks. He looked nervous, his foot tapping against the concrete like he was matching the pace of an upbeat song’s drum. 

He looked — he looked nice. His hair was a bit mussed, wind-ruffled, but he’d actually put together an outfit for the day rather than his normal of throwing on whatever was within reach and smelled clean. He had an abundance of polo shirts stored in his closet, and today he was sporting one, navy blue, the collar pristine and wrinkle-free. He was wearing jeans, which was absurd because Mike didn't even like the feel of denim. He was also wearing a newer pair of shoes, which was equally as ridiculous as the jeans, because Mike hated the process of breaking in new shoes; he always just wore his older pairs when he could. It was all a tiny bit mind-boggling, because Mike rarely dressed up for anything. And that wasn't even the kicker. It was what Mike held, clutched tightly in one hand. He had brought a small bouquet of blue and yellow flowers.

Oh.

Mike saw the group approaching and perked up, straightening his posture in the same way he did whenever Mrs. Wheeler would scold him about it. His face was flushed, and he seemed a little out of breath. 

His eyes were glued to Will.

Oh, God.

“Will!” Mike waved with his free hand, his grin bright, curled up at the edges in stunning sincerity. 

Somewhere behind Will, Dustin snarked softly, “Oh, yeah, hello to you too, Mike.” El snorted quietly, letting out a laugh that Will barely registered.

Mike walked forward to meet him, offering the flowers out while reaching forward and grabbing Will’s bike by the handlebars, steering it into the bike rack while Will just stood there dumbly, holding onto the bouquet with both hands. He was mildly afraid of dropping the flowers for some reason, standing stiffly so as to not do that.

“Uhm,” Will started eloquently, delayed. “Thank you. You didn't—” He lowered his voice to a murmur, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

Mike’s grin softened. “I know,” he agreed. “I wanted to.”

Will was fairly certain if he tried to say anything other than a second, strangled thank you, he would've, maybe, exploded — or something equally as dramatic. So he didn't try, and when Mike grabbed his hand to follow along after the others, he just let himself be led along. The less he thought about all of this, the less he'd notice (ideally), and the less he'd have to think about later, in the middle of the night when he should be sleeping. (He assumed he would not be sleeping much tonight regardless of what did or did not happen. That was the usual outcome of Mike doing something unexpected that made Will question things he didn't need to question at all. Like, as a random example: how often did other best friends stare at each other’s lips on the regular? Questions like that. Bad questions.)

Max and Lucas led the charge of the Party all the way into the theaters, a tired attendant nodding along to the movie title Max announced, and sliding six tickets across the counter. The woman gave the group an assessing glance, and lingered briefly on Mike and Will, but she either didn't care enough to question them, or was unwilling to actually prevent anyone from getting their discount even if they were clearly faking being a couple.

Will wasn't sure how clear his and Mike’s ‘faking’ was, honestly. That was another question he was a bit scared to ask, so he didn't.

The six of them retrieved their large popcorns and their drinks, and trailed into a half-full theater of other people on their pleasant little Valentine's dates. Will had assumed, based on every other time they’d all gone to the movies, that they’d sit in a close cluster as a group. 

Mike, apparently, had a different idea. 

While Lucas, Max, Dustin and El all sat in a row together, Mike tugged Will farther back, leaving them separated by a couple rows as he sent Will a reassuring smile. 

All he said to explain was, “I kind of wanted us to sit alone.” A pause. “Is that okay?”

Will nodded, and — just to set the scene, he was still carrying just the bouquet of flowers Mike had gotten him. Mike had insisted on carrying their food. They sat together, separated only by the armrests between them, and with only a hint of remorse, Will set the flowers down onto the empty seat next to him. Mike balanced the popcorn bucket between them, and before Will really knew anything about anything, the movie — some romantic comedy that he was only vaguely interested in — was playing, and the theater was dark, and he swore he saw El and Lucas each turning to look back at him multiple times. Each time, Dustin and Max respectively would yank them back to face forward.

It would be really funny if Will wasn't in the midst of a crisis. 

A terrible, terrible crisis.

Mike still hadn't let go of his hand.

It was a little awkward, reaching to grab popcorn with his farthest hand, but if Mike refused to release him, then Will would take it for the gift it was. He still felt a little like he was living in his own romance movie, his hands tingling every time his and Mike’s fingers brushed over shared popcorn, of all things — his ears were carefully tuned to the soft breaths of laughter Mike would let out here and there. His entire body was hyperaware of whenever Mike would not-so-subtly glance at Will, or — more commonly — stare unabashedly, his head tilted to the side, taking in Will’s features like he was some art piece in a museum. He didn't look away, either, whenever Will caught his stare. He didn't seem embarrassed, or even all that nervous anymore. He just seemed… Content.

Early on in the movie, Mike managed to materialize two small packs of M&M’s, quietly tearing them open and mixing them in with their popcorn. Will must have looked surprised, or something; Mike had glanced up at him and scoffed teasingly, “What? Did you think I only bought you flowers?”

“Uh, sort of,” Will mumbled, face warm. He leaned closer, voice low to not disturb anyone nearby. Mike copied him, their faces close, and Will wondered if Mike was really having trouble hearing him at all, or if he was just using it as an excuse for proximity. “I didn't think you'd buy me anything,” he added, “considering we did all this to avoid paying for basically any of it.”

The giant screen only did so much to illuminate Mike’s face, especially with a dark scene currently playing — Will thought maybe the characters were caught in the middle of a rain storm. From what Will could see, it seemed like something in Mike’s expression fractured slightly — not breaking, not exactly, but more like cracking open. Something was being revealed to him, and he didn't understand what.

“Will,” Mike murmured, eyes swimming with something sweet and affectionate. “You know it wasn't about the prices.”

Thunder rumbled, low and distant from the speakers, and Will felt his gaze drawn to Mike’s lips, his cheeks, his eyes. He swallowed thickly.

“...No?” It felt like the room was shifting around them. Or maybe Will just felt dizzy with endorphins, or something.

“No. It wasn't. Of course it wasn't. It was—”

Lightning crashed, lighting up the theater for a split-second as the two love interests on screen flinched away from one another, the quiet tones of music becoming a background noise as the sound of rain filtered in, bringing them back to reality. Will let out a harsh breath, having been caught by surprise by the loud sound effects.

Mike was staring at him, his mouth still hanging open on his words, his gaze glued somewhere south of Will’s eyes.

He clicked his mouth shut abruptly enough that Will heard it over the dialogue from the movie, releasing a heavy exhale through his nose. He looked nervous again, Will realized.

Their hands were still connected — he offered Mike a reassuring squeeze, and felt a bit better when he saw Mike relax from it.

They both reached for the popcorn, and there was a long moment where they just let their hands brush. It felt a little silly to Will, how nice it was, considering they’d been holding hands this entire time, but he decided he didn't want to question it.

This was nice. That was all it had to be.

→

In the end, Will had processed maybe a third of the movie. 

From that third, he could deduce he had no plans of rewatching it.

“That was good,” El said, happily and entirely sincere, still munching on the remainder of her and Dustin’s popcorn. Dustin had their arms linked together, and he just nodded along, still mulling over his own opinion.

Max shot El an incredulous look. “Really? They didn't even properly get together at the end. I didn't like it much.”

They were beelining towards Scoops Ahoy, where there was already a small crowd of people collecting their free ice cream as promised. Lucas had collected everyone’s tickets, holding them in one hand while his other held onto Max’s. He wisely was not inputting his opinion quite yet.

Will and Mike yet again were trailing behind. Somehow, their hands were still locked loosely together, a fact that Will did not mind at all, and had given up on questioning. Mike was radiating some muted, positive energy — Will was more than happy to let that live on. 

The group split when it was time to order; Max, Will, and El went to find somewhere for the group to sit, while Lucas, Mike, and Dustin went to get everyone ice cream, preferred flavors already memorized from over a dozen prior visits to the shop.

Will realized too late that he'd made an error upon agreeing to let Mike order for him.

Max was on him like a flea to a dog the moment they sat down in one of the booths. Her grin was devilish.

“So,” she chirped — far too cheery, “how’s the whole fake-date going? Those flowers seemed awfully real to me.” She batted her eyelashes at Will, who was in fact still clutching aforementioned flowers to his chest, with a coy grin. He wanted, just a little, to shrivel up and die.

“I mean,” he coughed a little, “the movie was horrible.” 

El made an offended noise, lightly kicking Will’s shin in protest. He nudged his elbow against her ribs in retaliation, and was likely about to suffer her wrath for it — when there was a warm hand clutching onto his bicep, politely but pointedly yanking him out of his seat.

“Fuck off, Max,” Mike snipped with no heat, directing Will towards a two-person table a few feet away, glaring over his shoulder. Max and El both just laughed while Will was perfectly pliable to Mike’s whims, seating himself without protest.

With little flourish, Mike set down a sundae between them, chocolate and vanilla ice cream already melting together into a swirly, white and brown soup near the bottom of the bowl.

He raised an eyebrow at Mike, a smile rising without his permission as Mike hesitated to sit.

Half a minute must have passed of Mike simply standing there, buzzing with some energy Will had trouble reading, before he finally sat, his movements jerky, his face red.

“Mike?” Will asked.

“How is— how do you think this is going?” Mike asked quickly, his words merging into a mass that Will had to take a moment to dissect. “Like,” he tacked on belatedly, “if this were a date. Uh, hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically?”

Mike swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly. “Yeah. Hypothetically. Like, is there anything that could've been… Better?”

Will huffed a small laugh, endeared by the shy glance Mike sent him. Because that's what this was, wasn't it? Real, sincere shyness — a quality he hadn't ever expected to draw from Mike while out on a date. (Because that's exactly what this was, he was beginning to realize.)

“I mean, the movie choice could definitely be better,” he paused, just to shoot Mike a fond smile, “but the company isn't bad. Not at all.”

Mike grinned faintly, “By company, you mean me, right? Not just the Party as a whole?” 

“Yeah, Mike. You. This was good. If it were to be a date, I… I wouldn't mind it. Not at all.”

They were leaning toward each other, ice cream entirely forgotten between them, and Will was sure that if he bothered to look over, the Party would be watching them with rapt attention.

He didn’t mind who was watching. Mike was looking at him — that was what mattered.

“So,” Mike reached across the table, taking Will’s hand. He was jittery, and it was nice to realize that Will hadn’t, apparently, been the only one freaking out for the majority of the day. “Another date, then? Would you, uh— want to? ‘Cause this was great, but I’d like to take you on a proper date. One where I’m not buying flowers thirty minutes beforehand ‘cause I don’t have any better gift prepared. Or wearing an outfit Nancy picked for me.”

“Hey,” Will protested, unable to help his grin, “I liked those flowers. And, Nancy picked that?” Suddenly, the jeans and the new shoes made more sense. Will shook his head slightly to dismiss the thought, amusement bubbling within his chest. “But — yes, Mike. I’d like that. I’d like it a lot.” 

Mike was positively beaming at him, and it was like everything else in the world just went away.

“Cool — cool, that’s—” Mike hesitated. “So... How does tomorrow sound?”

Will didn’t stop to question anything; he just smiled, bright and full of an aching fondness.

“Tomorrow sounds great, Mike.”