Chapter Text
Mike Wheeler was so fucked.
The lasagna on his plate was cold, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy looking at Will. Wondering what Will was thinking. Wishing he could be alone with Will.
Will. Will. Will.
Stop thinking about Will.
He tried, but it wasn’t working. It never worked.
Today was a turning point. It was their last game with the party. The end of their childhoods. Everyone was going to leave and it was all so heavy on his chest and the weight was unbearable.
It was all unbearable, actually, and it had been since they’d lost El. Mike could still see the hope in his friends’ faces after he shared his theory about her death with them earlier. It was wishful thinking, really. Just an idea sparked by a memory he’d shoved deep into a box he tried never to open. He had no idea if it was true, but he also didn’t know how El would have been able to get into the rift with those machines paralyzing her.
Nothing made sense anyway, so why not indulge this little fantasy?
Maybe she was alive. Maybe she’d found her Valinor. And maybe there was at least one waterfall there. Maybe.
That’s how he would think of her. He simply had to, because he’d tried the other option for the last 18 months and he couldn’t do it anymore. He had to move on. He had to let her go. Today, he was choosing door two and he was fucking terrified.
Pushing bits of beef and ricotta around his plate, Mike made the colossal effort to try and listen to what Max and Lucas and Dustin were talking about, and even smile politely, but he was drained and sad and there was only one person he wanted to be talking to anyway.
Will was quiet, but he knew Will well enough that he didn’t have to say it. He was sad that things were going to change too, and he was sad about El.
Losing his sister had left Will just as bereft as Mike, and today had been full of reminders of her absence. They could throw their caps in the air, they could enjoy a D&D game and dinner together, they could go to parties and make plans for the future, but every day they woke up a day farther away from the people they were when she was a part of their lives, and there was no escaping it.
Will was usually the sensitive one, but Mike had been raw and broken for so long now he thought the rest of the group had probably grown tired of his moods. Maybe they were looking forward to getting away from him.
Will was different, though. They’d spent a lot of time together since everything happened. Almost every day, really. They got each other through each school day, side by side– earning them the nickname “Velcro Boys” from the idiots in their class. They hung out most evenings at the cabin or in Mike’s basement, and their weekends were usually spent working on college applications or studying together.
Early on, when Mike was weary from his own grief, plus being a parental figure for Holly and caretaker for his parents, Will would force him into bed to take a nap and sit next to him with his sketchpad, quietly drawing while Mike slept, curled up and close enough that he almost always woke up touching Will somehow. A foot tangled over his or a hand grasping his leg. One day, before his consciousness came back fully, he dreamed that Will was holding his hand and rubbing small circles into his skin. Then his heart stuttered as he realized that it was real. He laid there for another half hour before Will “woke him up” for dinner, letting go of his hand first, to his dismay. He wondered if it was the first time he’d done that or if it was a regular part of their ritual for Will to hold Mike’s hand while he slept.
That was the kind of friend Will was. He was caring and he noticed things. He knew what people needed. He probably knew that it would calm Mike’s body and help him sleep if he caressed his skin like that. These were the kinds of things they were used to doing for each other.
Totally normal best friend things. Right.
Mike wasn’t sure if he’d ever feel fully healed from everything, but he always felt better when he was with Will. Will never made Mike feel like he was broken. He was just there, every day, for whatever Mike needed. And he still got this hopeful trusting look in his eye when he looked at him, the way he had since they were kids, and that made Mike feel like at least he wasn’t as eager to get away. Or at least, he hoped not.
In fact, as Mike lifted his head from his plate his eyes immediately met Will’s across the table. Already fixed on him, eyebrows scrunched with concern.
Mike gave him a tiny lopsided smile and shoulder shrug.
I’m not great, but I’m dealing with it.
Will gave him a discrete nod in reply.
Okay, I’m here if you need me.
This was a silent conversation they’d had a lot over the months when they were around other people. Will’s relentless attempts to rescue Mike from himself were what helped him handle these moments and function like a semi-normal 18 year old who definitely wasn’t harboring years of trauma and self-loathing.
Will’s focus went back to his food but Mike kept looking, and Will’s magic went to work on him. His chest warmed, his stomach softened, the noise in his head quieted, and something resembling happiness crept up his spine and into his heart.
Ah, his heart, that pesky organ that was supposed to be some defining characteristic of his personality.
He hadn’t felt much like he was the heart of anything since they’d come back from California. How could you be the heart when your own was obviously dysfunctional anyway?
Mike’s traitorous heart shuddered in his chest at the thought.
Will’s hair looked nice today. It was a little tousled now, more free than it was at graduation. He wanted to touch it, but no, no, he had to sit here and eat his lasagna and pretend that he wasn’t on the verge of a nervous breakdown over many things but at the moment mainly the force with which his hands felt magnetically attracted to Will’s hair. Fuck. The gravity that kept him anchored to Will felt more dense the last few weeks, and he was tired of trying to resist it.
So tired.
He tore his gaze away from Will and started picking at the tablecloth to stop his fingers from tapping nervously against his thigh. His leg was bouncing noticeably but he had little control over it.
“Mike, are you going to eat any more than that? I made it especially for you, honey,” his mom said, worry and annoyance somehow both present on her face, which made Mike soften.
“Not hungry anymore, but thanks, Mom. It was really good.”
Karen’s sigh filled the room. She eyed her empty wine glass.
“Actually, this has been really nice Mrs. Wheeler, but Lucas and I have some plans so we’ve got to get going,” Max chimed in. She and Lucas got up and took their plates into the kitchen, followed a second later by Dustin and Will.
Mike stared at Will’s empty chair for a moment too long before picking up his plate and following his friends.
Shit. This was the part he was dreading. It wasn’t goodbye forever, they might see each other again tomorrow for all he knew, but it was a goodbye to something intangible, all the same. And Mike somehow had to convince Will not to leave. There were things his dysfunctional heart needed to say to him, and Mike knew from the moment he closed the basement door that he needed to say them as soon as possible.
As they made their way to the front door, Lucas engulfed him in a bear hug, joined quickly by the other three. Will was crying again.
How Mike envied his ability to share his emotions so openly. A stray thought suggested that he wipe Will’s tears away, but he caught it and stuffed it down as deep as he could before he did anything embarrassing.
“Listen, I know it feels like the end and all that, but we’re all still in Hawkins this summer so let’s plan on hanging out again this weekend, deal? Cause I know I’m gonna need the party, for life, whether we’ve got a campaign to play or not,” Lucas said, hands on Will and Dustin’s shoulders.
“Yes, please, I can’t just hang out with Steve every day for the rest of summer,” Dustin added, to which they all laughed, because let’s face it - Dustin would absolutely hang out with Steve every day for the rest of the summer without complaint.
Max was already pulling Lucas through the door. “We’ve gotta spend some time at the Sinclairs, but who knows - if we’re feeling crazy we might hit up Stacey’s party later.” To that Will and Mike rolled their eyes, not so subtly. “Hey, it’s something to do. This is Hawkins, remember? Nothing exciting ever happens here!”
This was met with a groan from every single one of them. Will face palmed.
“Bye, losers.” Max’s affectionate laugh echoed through the entranceway as she and Lucas crossed the lawn and disappeared from view.
Dustin slung his arms around Mike and Will once more. “Mom wanted to go out for ice cream after we finished up, but I’ll see you guys soon - maybe Stacey’s later?” He asked with a nudge to Will’s chest.
Mike shot a slightly panicked glance at Will and Will returned it in the automatic way that they always shared glances, then hesitated for a heartbeat before turning back to Dustin.
“Uh, I don’t know, maybe, but I’m kinda tired so I may just go back to the cabin.”
He glanced back at Mike again so quickly Mike wondered if he imagined it.
“I don’t think I feel like going out tonight, Dustin,” Mike added. “Definitely see you soon, though.”
“Bye for now then, I bid you both adieu. Don’t be strangers, okay?” Dustin saluted them, mounted his bike, and took off down the wooded street towards his house.
Then it was just Will, standing in the doorway, framed in the golden late-afternoon light. Mike’s breath caught at the sight of him, bathed in yellow, as handsome as he’d ever been.
Please, he thought, please stay.
“Um,” Will started, looking awkwardly like he didn’t know what to do with his hands as he brushed them on his jeans, crossed them in front of his chest, then immediately moved them into his back pockets. “So, I guess I…”
“Hey, can you stay for a bit?” Mike blurted out a little too eagerly.
Will’s mouth opened but it took a couple of seconds before words followed. “Yeah, of course, if you want. I had basically all day with Mom and Hop, and I think they had a date tonight anyways, so I’m free, like, I don’t have any other plans, so sure.”
His smile was shy, but his eyes were wide and eager. It dislodged something in Mike's chest, like he'd stepped off of a cliff but gravity hadn't caught up to him yet.
“Good,” he squeaked. “Um, I kinda want to get out of the house. Do you wanna go for a walk, maybe, and talk?”
Will nodded his agreement for a moment, almost in a daze, before saying, “Yeah, sure, that’s cool.”
Relief flooded Mike’s body, but it only lasted a second before anxiety, sharp and shuddering, followed. The plan he hobbled together for this conversation seemed idiotic now, but if he didn’t do something today then regret would hound him his entire life, so he took a breath and decided he was not going to let fear and shame control him. Not any longer. Not when Will was standing right there and they had a clock ticking over their heads.
He’d delayed this conversation long enough.
Fuck it.
“Um, wait here a second - I’ll be right back.”
Mike raced upstairs two at a time, yelling to Karen that he was going out. The cool plastic of the object he sought met his hand as he removed it from the secret hiding place where it lived in his bedroom, and as he rounded the corner of the staircase again, he shoved it in his back pocket so Will wouldn’t see.
This was idiotic. He was insane, actually insane.
He'd thought of this moment for so long, it didn't seem real now that he was here. He didn't know if what he was feeling was bravery or sheer adrenaline, but whatever it was, he wasn't going to question it because as he took the last step towards Will he knew that he didn't have a choice anymore. He was telling him the truth, finally, and there was no going back.
“Thanks, let’s go.” He said to Will, still standing in the doorway. Will nodded and gave him a small smile, the corners of his mouth reaching up delicately. God, he was so beautiful it was stupid.
Skin flushed and heart malfunctioning, Mike gestured for Will to lead the way outside.
“Cool,” he said softly, and closed the door behind them.