Chapter Text
Airports, Will Byers decided, were far too emotional for a place that charged that much for coffee.
He sat at a small table just inside Indianapolis airport, fingers loosely wrapped around an iced latte he’d already decided was overpriced and slightly disappointing. The ice had started to melt, watering it down into something that tasted vaguely like regret…but he kept sipping it anyway, because he’d paid for it and he wasn’t about to let capitalism win that easily.
Across from him sat a second iced latte.
Untouched.
Condensation beading down the plastic cup, slowly pooling onto the napkin he’d carefully placed underneath like this was a normal, casual thing to do and not something he’d overthought for a solid three minutes.
It wasn’t a big deal.
It was just a drink.
For Mike.
Because Mike’s train was getting in first. Dustin and Lucas weren’t due for another forty minutes, which meant, for a short, perfectly manageable amount of time, it would just be the two of them.
Alone.
Together.
At an airport.
Before flying to Las Vegas.
Where they would then share a hotel room.
Will took another sip of his drink.
Still regret.
Four days ago. FOUR DAYS. Dustin Henderson had dropped into their group chat like a financial menace:
“Good news: I’m turning 21.
Better news: I booked us a trip to Vegas.
Best news: I already paid. Flights, hotel. You’re welcome.”
Lucas had immediately gone:
“You’re actually insane.”
Mike:
“Wait… like Vegas Vegas???”
Will:
“When do we leave?”
That had been it. No hesitation. Just a quiet, immediate yes before his brain had time to catch up.
Because honestly?
It was time.
They’d all finished college now, somehow, and ended up back in Indiana like life had just… reset them. Everything felt smaller than it should. Slower. Like they were all waiting for something to start again.
And this?
This felt like the start of something.
Or at least a break from everything else.
Also…
Spending four days with Mike Wheeler wasn’t exactly a downside.
Not a thing. Not like that.
Just… a logistical coincidence.
A completely normal logistical coincidence.
Because yes, they were sharing a room.
It had come up in the group chat, buried somewhere between Dustin insisting they needed to see a magician and Lucas questioning every decision that had led them here.
Dustin: “Two rooms. Me and Lucas in one.”
Mike: “Cool.”
Will: “Yeah, makes sense.”
Dustin: “Wait… does it???”
Lucas: “It literally does.”
Mike: “???”
Will: “It’s fine.”
And somehow, that had been the end of the conversation.
No follow-up questions.
No one pointing out that it might be… weird.
Which was great.
Totally fine.
Not something Will had thought about more than, say, fifty times.
He shifted in his seat, glancing toward the entrance again. People moved in waves, rolling suitcases, tired faces, the occasional overly enthusiastic reunion.
Any second now.
His fingers tapped lightly against the side of his cup, betraying a nervous energy he was absolutely not acknowledging.
He was over it.
Completely.
That had been years ago. A different version of him. He’d dated since then…successfully, even. Eight months with Carlton.
They’d broken up last week.
Mutual, technically.
In the sense that neither of them had really fought to keep it going.
Will was fine about it. Mostly. Enough to get on a plane to Vegas and pretend he wasn’t carrying around a weird mix of relief and something a little heavier.
But that was fine.
That was what this trip was for.
Distraction.
Fun.
Bad decisions made under neon lights.
He reached for his drink again…
And then he saw him.
Mike Wheeler.
Just inside the entrance, looking slightly disoriented in that familiar way, like he’d stepped into a place that moved a little too fast for him. His eyes scanned the seating area, searching…
and then landed on Will.
And everything about his face shifted.
It wasn’t subtle. It never had been with Mike. One second neutral, the next, bright, open, unmistakably happy.
Like finding Will had just made the whole trip real.
Will’s hand stilled around his cup.
For a second, everything else faded into the background noise of rolling suitcases and distant announcements.
Mike spotted him.
And smiled.
And suddenly, the second iced latte sitting across from Will didn’t feel like a small thing anymore.
It felt like a very, very obvious one.
Mike started making his way over, weaving through tables with that same slightly awkward, slightly rushed energy Will remembered.
And Will, watching him get closer, had one very clear, very inconvenient thought:
Yeah.
This was going to be a problem.