Archive of Our Own

May 13, 1989

The late spring air was crisp. It flowed through the streets of Hawkins in a way that promised something warmer was around the corner.

Pedestrians slowed their walking pace to bask in it, looking to the sky with bright smiles to match. It was the first truly warm day of 1989 in Hawkins. The sun beat down on the statue in the middle of town square, the awnings of small businesses, and the dozens of people going this way and that.

Will yelped as he and a young boy collided. Rather, the bike that the boy was far too small to reasonably ride on slammed into Will’s knees, sending him and the child to a pile of limbs and gasps on the concrete.

“Harvey!” his mother shouted.

The young woman rushed forward with the stroller, clicking it to a standstill before she bent down to collect her wailing son.

“Oh, baby, you’re going to be just fine. It’s just a small scratch,” the woman cooed.

The boy’s lanky arms crushed her throat, embracing her as he sniffled and whined. Will just watched, oblivious to the scrape on his knee that tore through his skin.

“Dear, I’m so sorry. Harvey was just so excited, his sister said her first words this morning and he doesn’t want to miss a second,” she explained, her eyes roaming over Will to check for injuries.

She noticed the gash on his leg and her eyes flew wide open in horror. “I’m so sorry about this—here,” she moved to the stroller, frantically pulling out her wallet. “It’s not much, but please. Take this to the pharmacy, get yourself some bandages.”

Will did his best to cool the shakiness out of his breath. He didn’t look down, just kept his eyes trained on the woman as he said, “Oh, no thank you, ma’am. It’s just a scratch.”

Will didn’t have to look down to know it wasn’t just a scratch—sticky, hot blood poured from his knee, trickling down his calf against torn skin and loose gravel. The sun was an unbearable spotlight shining down on him. He quickly rose to his feet, backing away—

“I insist, really!” she said, holding a folded ten-dollar bill in his direction.

He ran.

The wind pushed against him, relentless on his cheeks as his legs carried him past City Hall. Once he convinced himself he was fully out of the woman’s view, he slowed down, wincing at the sting in his leg.

The rest of the walk to the cabin passed in a blur. He usually savored these walks; Hawkins had finally been restored to something beyond its former glory, and each building, each person hustling towards their destination was a sign Will learned to take that things would get better.

He was better too.

But something had crept in between the rush of the crash and the woman’s doting attention. An old reflex deep in his gut, dusted off and ready to tell him to flee from a situation that involved blood and a worried mother.

Only when he stepped through the overgrown lawn and past Jonathan’s old car—his car now—did Will realize his mistake. He was supposed to pick up his boutonnière from the florist on his way home from the barber shop. He had taken a detour from the Wheeler’s house to get there, and now he needed an excuse to give his mom when he walked through the door empty-handed, only one of two errands completed.

There would be no hiding the injury. His shorts did nothing to mask it, so he bit his lip and finally looked down as he stood on the front porch, his hand on the doorknob.

It looked worse than it was. Blood had caked on his ankles and angry maroon streaks rippled across his knee. He had to do something about it before his mom saw him.

Will crept around the side of the cabin and sighed in relief when he saw his bedroom window was still ajar. He stripped his shirt off, silently noting to himself to retrieve the bleach from the shed tomorrow to make up for what he was about to do.

Bending over, his good knee pressing into dried out grass, he spit into the balled-up fabric and carefully wiped the blood off his leg. He winced as it dragged over him, and he did his best to pick the tiny pieces of gravel out. All that was left was small indentations, ghosts of where the newly lain concrete had pierced him, and rosy streaks that would have to be washed away later.

The ruined shirt sailed through his window, abandoned as a problem for later.

Will had a million reasons to indulge his nerves today, but somehow fear of his mom’s worry tore the mental list to shreds as he headed for the front door. As he reached it, he realized his hands were still coated in dirt and blood, so he wiped them on the back of his shorts before pulling the door open.

“Surprise!”

A bright flash pierced the room and Will jumped back, jaw agape at the sight of his older brother standing in the living room with his Canon aimed at him. A bouquet of peonies and green fillers was tucked between his side and arm, wrapped in brown paper.

“Oh, sweetie! You’re hurt—what on Earth happened?” his mom squeaked, approaching him from the side. She placed a hand on his cheek as her wide eyes took him in.

“I’m fine, mom, I just tripped,” he said. “Jonathan, you’re here!”

“You’re certainly not fine! Sit down, honey, I’ll get you cleaned up,” she said.

His mom made a beeline for the bathroom to collect the first aid supplies, and shouted over her shoulder, “Jonathan, dear, can you grab Will a glass of water? He looks unwell!”

Jonathan approached the couch with a bright smile, tousling Will’s hair and planting a warm kiss to the top of his head. “Coming right up.”

“Unwell,” Will mumbled under his breath.

“I’ve seen worse,” Jonathan said as he handed him the water. “But I gotta say, not the best timing…”

Will smiled. He never had the best timing.

He took a big gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. “So, what brings you to town?”

“Oh, nothing special,” Jonathan said, rolling his eyes. “There’s this kid I know who’s going to senior prom, and rumor has it he’s gonna be best-dressed. Brand new suit, shined dress shoes, fresh ‘do, and a boutonnière that he was supposed to pick up this morning.”

Will’s cheeks heated. “Yeah, about that last part, I, uh—”

Jonathan shoved his arm. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll pick it up on the way to the group pictures.”

Their mom jogged into the room, her arms filled with enough first aid supplies to heal an army. She knelt in front of Will, bringing a lukewarm rag to his calf so she could wipe the blood away.

“This might sting a little, honey. Be careful in the shower when you wash yourself. I laid out some new body wash for you. Don’t use the scented one,” she instructed.

Will settled into the couch as she cleaned him, finally relaxing. His adrenaline had slowed now that he was here.

After everything, it had taken months for his family to unlearn the habits they built surrounding danger and unexpected circumstances. The dust settled eventually, and the weight of the loss of El filled that space. It brought on a new kind of worry from his mom and Hopper. Phone calls the second he arrived at his friends’ houses. Daily good mornings and goodnights that were less greeting and more proof of life to them.

Will looked to the spot on the couch beside him. Eternally empty, just like the chair at the small dining table. He knew his parents held their breath as he walked through the door each day, wondering if someone else was finally coming home.

Will felt it today especially. El had never enrolled in Hawkins High, probably never would have. But the impending celebrations had him wondering anyway.

His mom dabbed and wiped as she caught up with Jonathan, and he let his mind carry him away to that place where things were different.

What color dress would she have worn? What songs would she want to dance and scream along to?

Would she have slow danced with Mike? Would she pull back, blushing and eyes twinkling with her memory of the Snow Ball? Or would her eyes be hopeful for the future?

Would they have already made plans to go somewhere together? Would they end up worlds away from the dorm he and Mike planned to share at NYU?

Would Mike have said the things he did last night?

It always happened like this—a single question that snowballed into more questions that left his heart aching. It was a unique kind of self-torture, the kind that left him barren inside and angry with her for things she would never get the chance to do.

He imagined fighting with El until they were both blue in the face. About school, who had dibs on dinner leftovers, Mike’s attention.

“All set,” his mom said, pulling him back to the land of the living. “There’s bandages under the sink, you can put a few on after you shower.”

“Thanks, mom.”

The clock was ticking, so he made quick work of scrubbing himself clean until the only evidence of this morning remaining was the tender scrapes on his knee.

As the last bit of blood swirled down the drain, he exhaled his fears for the night, letting them float away until the steam swallowed them whole. There was no use in wondering if Troy and his friends would bully him for looking queer, no point in harping on last night’s conversation with Mike before they fell asleep in his bed.

Will was determined to go out with a bang, to have so much fun that Hawkins High would wipe their memories of the resurrected zombie boy. He would leave behind a different Will Byers for them to remember him by.

The Will he’d grown into in the past year.

Most of the groundwork had been done already. The prom committee had put the prior years’ classes to shame—he had made sure of it. And once he got there, he intended to dance his cares away. Not to spite his classmates, but for himself too. Dancing would never feel so earned.

There was only one unknown variable left in the prom equation he had carefully worked to solve over the past several months.

Mike.

In a way, things with his best friend had never been this good.

Frequent sleepovers that ushered in a new era of what it meant to fall asleep in the Wheeler’s basement. The other nights where he fell asleep in the cabin while Mike sleepily mumbled through the walkie-talkie. The comic book they had been working on together, written by Mike and illustrated by himself. The bike rides to lovers lake, the stolen glances when they were with friends. The tears they wiped from each other’s faces as they took turns grieving El.

Some days, he didn’t know where he ended and Mike began.

It almost was too much, but it didn’t happen all at once.

For a while, Mike had withdrawn completely. Locked himself away until Will gave him no choice but to face him, pounding on his bedroom door and demanding to get his shit together. He almost felt bad, like each thump of his fist against wood was a direct assault on Mike’s already fragile heart.

Then the door opened, and Mike had let him in. It turned out that all his friend really needed was for someone to look him in the eyes. To acknowledge that he was still real despite feeling so broken.

So Will stayed.

He scribbled drawings of the Party while Mike drafted an adventure, and one day, Mike had said, “We could really make something of this.”

That was the day Mike left his bedroom. It was a slow reintegration into the Party’s ecosystem, but they had been patient. In a way, they couldn’t heal until they did it together.

Will never thought he would miss Hawkins as much as he did years ago, back when they packed up their childhoods and moved to California. But this was different.

This time, there was a real future around the corner and that somehow made each second of their senior year all the more transient. A whole world of possibilities that would change them each and every day, peeling back the armor they so proudly wore in the years of battling for survival.

None of that mattered tonight.

When he returned to his room, a garment bag lay on the foot of his bed with a card on top. He opened it carefully, his thumb pressing the expensive stationary until it lay flat in his hand.

Dear Will,

The last time you went to a school dance, you were so tiny. Still my baby boy, dressed in the smallest vest I could find at the thrift shop and that yellow dress shirt that loved to untuck itself. How can five years feel like only yesterday yet lifetimes ago all at once?

You’ve grown into the most beautiful, sweetest young man. I’m so proud of everything you’ve overcome, and even more, what you’ve accomplished. You deserve to feel like a million bucks tonight, so Hop and I decided it was only right you dress for success.

Senior prom is a special time—so fleeting yet filled with possibility. I hope you have the best time, and please, for your parents’ sake, be safe and make good decisions.

My sweet baby. I know I can be too much sometimes, and I’m not always right. But take it from someone who’s been around the block. You are special. You’re worth everything.

Have fun tonight.

I love you.

Mom

Leaving the note on the edge of the bed, he made way for the living area. He didn’t find her there which only meant one thing.

He went outside, still dressed in nothing more than a towel around his waist to find her smoking a cigarette with tears in her eyes.

“Mom.”

She jumped in surprise; the cigarette fell out of her grasp, forgotten on the lawn.

“Will, honey, you’ll get dirty out here—”

He marched forward, wrapping her in a tight embrace. She melted into him immediately. With her face pressed to his chest, her tears mixed with the lingering dampness from the shower, but they paid it no mind as she rocked back and forth, squeezing him tight.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “You really didn’t have to. It’s too much.”

She pulled back to look up at him. He smiled at the lingering cigarette smoke—it was too late to wash it off now, but he didn’t mind. Despite the bad habit, all the times she said she would quit, it was a like a piece of her clung to him, too stubborn to let go.

“It’s just enough. You deserve it. Did you see the note?”

Will laughed. “Of course I did. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetie.”

As she squeezed him tight, he felt the calmest warmth. It started in his chest where her cheeks pressed into him before moving into his limbs and head. So many times she held him close, like it would be the last chance she ever had. Like if she let go, he would never come back. It fed the weight pressing on his shoulders that told him to hold everything in. To not make her worry.

This time was different because she let go first. There was a silent gift of trust pressed into his skin, and he reveled in the way it chased that heaviness away. He felt lighter.

“I should go change,” he said, wiping a tear of his own away. “I might need Hopper’s help with the bowtie when he gets back.”

She smiled at him. “He’ll be back soon.”

While he waited for Hopper, he went to the bathroom, already feeling the frizz settling in. He didn’t want normal Saturday hair. He wanted prom hair.

His barber’s instructions came back to him, and he did his best to follow them. Applied a little mousse, used his mom’s blow dryer. Added some gel to keep the swoopy pieces just so. Hairspray to hold it together. Once he finished his routine with a brush of his teeth, a quick shave, and a few bandages on his knee, he looked in the mirror.

The reflection staring back wasn’t a new one, necessarily. But it was the first time he really noticed it.

The curve of his jaw was more defined. His cheekbones were glowing. His smile came easily, so different from the ones he used to practice in the mirror on the first day of school when he was young.

The young man looking back at him was confident. Happy.

For the first time, he liked what he saw there and didn’t have such a hard time believing someone else could too.

“You can do this,” Will told his reflection.

Then, he said it again. And again. One more time, and he believed it.

He silently retreated to his room as his mind drifted to Mike. He spritzed cologne onto himself and carefully applied deodorant. He would be sweaty later—it would be rude to be around his friend and smell bad.

The thud of Hopper’s boots alerted him, heavy against the creaking hardwood floor.

“I’m taking the shower!” Hop yelled out to everyone, not bothering to wait for a response before slamming the bathroom door shut behind him.

Will felt bad that he had to leave his shift early for his prom pictures, but he had insisted.

“Not a big deal, kid. I’ll just pick up a night shift next week,” Hopper had said.

It had been a little over a year since Hopper resumed his position as Chief of Police. How he managed to do that, Will had no clue. Dr. Owens, maybe.

The newspaper clippings that hailed him a town hero who perished in the Starcourt Mall fire hung in a frame in the living room. Whenever he and Will’s mom argued, he would point to it and say, “You can’t be mad at me, Joyce. I’m a hero.”

Jonathan joined him in his bedroom while he waited for Hopper. They lied in his bed, both of their feet dangling off the edges as they stared at the ceiling and listened to new tape for The Cure’s new album that Will got last week.

“Are you nervous?”

There was no hesitation when Will responded. “A little.”

Jonathan replied, “Would that have to do with a certain someone?”

Will couldn’t help the smile that erupted, pulling his reddened cheeks taut.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“I can hear you smiling, you know,” Jonathan said beside him, still gazing at the ceiling. “Can’t a guy be curious about his little brother?”

“Shut up,” Will said. A giggle escaped his lips before he could stifle it.

Jonathan chuckled. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

“Thanks.”

Another song played.

“Jon?”

“Yeah?”

There was a long pause, filled by the music.

There was nothing in the world

That I ever wanted more

Than to feel you deep in my heart

“Do you ever regret not going to prom?”

“No. It wasn’t really my scene. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be great for you.”

Will considered it as he traced the cracks in the ceiling. Would it be great? He wanted it to be.

“Will,” Hopper said from the door. “Reporting for duty.”

As Hopper finished securing the bowtie, he gave Will’s shoulder a playful pat.

“You look great, bud. Don’t break any hearts tonight.”

Will laughed. “Thanks. And the suit, this is… I know it must have cost a fortune. Thank you.”

Hopper pulled him into a half hug, careful not to wrinkle his shirt or disrupt his handiwork.

“Don’t mention it.”

As soon as he slipped his suit jacket on, his mom shuffled in. “Pictures!”

By the time Jonathan took a few dozen photos outside the cabin, Will pleaded for mercy. His cheeks could only take so much, stretched beyond what a normal face could handle.

“I might head over to the Wheeler’s a little early. I need to run an errand. Mind if I meet you guys there?”

“Of course, honey. We’ll see you there. Four o’clock sharp,” his mom reminded him.

“I’m guessing it’s not the florist?” Jonathan asked. Will shook his head, his cheeks heating in bashfulness. “Figured. That’s fine, we’ll get it.”

The drive was a short one, so Will didn’t bother with a tape. After pulling over on the side of the road to pick some wildflowers, he turned the radio on.

“Good afternoon, Hawkins! Troy Walsh here, your new host-in-training for WSQK, The Squawk. You’ll be hearing my voice a lot this summer, but not tonight. Why, you might ask? Well idiots, I’m off to senior prom. Will I get arrested? Hopefully not. Am I gonna get away with some crazy shit? Definitely. Once a Tiger, always a Tiger! Woo, woo, woo! Anyway—shit, sorry—yes, I know, sir—I’m not supposed to curse—”

Will laughed to himself, shaking his head. He was happy for her, but dear God. The station was not the same without Robin.

“Sorry about that. This next song goes out to all my fellow Tigers—see you at prom! Ooh, baby, baby!”

“You’re kidding me,” Will scoffed. He let Push It by Salt-N-Peppa play anyway, too dumbstruck to find another station.

After a few minutes, he finally reached his destination.

The gates of Roane Hill Cemetery were sprawled open in invitation.

It was more crowded that Will anticipated, but he didn’t mind. Will always found the cemetery peaceful. A reminder, if anything, that even if someone went too soon, evidence of their love could be found here. Trinkets placed on graves, corny signs, and his favorite, the flowers.

He parked the car and grabbed his flowers before walking to her headstone. Along with the planted purple tulips in full bloom, a familiar bouquet lay by the head of her grave. Will placed the wildflowers beside it.

“Hi, El,” Will said softly.

He usually sat down for this. Maybe because it felt more like a face-to-face conversation that way.

“I’m not joining for long, otherwise I’d sit. Today is senior prom.”

The mid-afternoon sun shone down on him, on the headstone. Will closed his eyes. Gave her a moment to respond as he basked in the warmth.

A soft breeze billowed through the air, pulling the nearby trees into a sigh of newly sprouted leaves. The tulips wafted to the side, bending and swaying as the petals brushed against one another.

“I know. It is wild. Graduation is in a few weeks too. Can you believe it?”

The wind settled. The tulips stood proud.

“Listen. There’s a few things I need to catch you up on…”

So he did. He explained everything that had happened with Mike, how he tried to hold back. He told her that Mike had made it so hard. Trying to resist him was to deny air to his lungs.

Then he told her everything else.

The painting he was working on. How missing Jonathan was harder when both of their absences stacked against each other.

What their parents had been up to recently. The upcoming engagement that he knew their mom suspected. He painted her a picture of the ring, each divot and imperfection. He complained about the engagement party planning, told her that she would be so much better at it than him.

Will told her about last night. The campaign, and how Max was so mad at Mike’s impersonation of her character that Coke sprayed out of her nose.

He laughed when he told her about the new Squawk host, how he knew that she made Troy piss himself. He still thought it was the coolest thing she had ever done, which was saying a lot.

He explained every meticulous detail of prom planning from the paper garland he and many other hands strung together to the mural he messily painted because there was only so much time left in the week. From there, it spiraled into a string of complaints about the planning committee. He told El she’d call Stacey a mouth breather for suggesting his mural was lazy even though she was right.

Because it was only polite, he asked her things too.

“What song would you want to hear at prom?”

Will listened for the wind, but the breeze had settled almost completely.

“Have you gotten up to anything this week?”

He ripped a weed out of the soil where the tulips stood. Tossed it to the side, away from her. Rubbed his hands together until the grime disappeared, but not gone completely.

“What snacks are you munching on right now?”

A streak of sunlight pierced through the clouds, baking his face until it was hot and sweaty. Not ideal, but Will would be sweaty by the night’s end anyway.

“If you’re still in the States, did you know you’ll be able to vote in the next Presidential election?”

His flowers and the bouquet rustled in a brief breeze. Will studied the bouquet of yellow geraniums and purple hydrangeas. They were the same as always, carefully assorted by the florist in town.

“Have you… met anyone?”

A car door slammed shut; Will didn’t look for the source, but he saw an older woman in his periphery as she approached a grave a few rows ahead of him. She sat down in the grass and started talking. To a lover, maybe. A parent. Will didn’t know.

“Where are you? Really?”

A robin fluttered past him, tweeting as it flapped its wings. It landed on El’s gravestone before flying away.

“Is death peaceful?”

Will looked around the lawn, to a family gathered a dozen stones away. They were happy, laughing as they engaged with each other. It must not have been recent.

“If you’re not dead, can you give me a sign that you’re out there?”

Nothing. Just the headstone with leaves of ivy crawling up its side and flowers staring back at him.

Will sighed. It was silly to ask, but he did it every time just in case.

The tulips stayed still, never wavering as she took in his explanations, stories, questions, and doubt from somewhere far away.

“Thanks for catching up. I know I said I wouldn’t stay long, but I guess there was more to tell you that I thought. And I really needed to be honest with you about the Mike stuff. I’m sorry if…” Will trailed off. “I don’t know. I just wish you were still here. I wish you were coming to prom with us. I’ll save a seat for you.”

He bid her farewell, promising to return and update her soon.

By the time he reached the Wheeler’s house, the rest of the Party was there. Lucas’s parents walked up the driveway at the same time as him.

“You handsome boy!” Mrs. Sinclair gushed. “When did you get so big and strong?”

“Good to see you, young man. Great bowtie,” Mr. Sinclair added.

“Thank you both. It’s great to see you,” Will said shyly. He didn’t mean for it to come out in that voice, but he couldn’t help it. It’s why parents loved him.

The Wheeler’s house was in pandemonium. He was immediately greeted with compliments and hug from Dustin, Max, and Mike’s moms. He didn’t mind it though—something about praise from middle-aged women filled him up with a quiet pride and pink cheeks.

“Byers!” Lucas called from the living room. “Lookin’ foxy!”

“Ow-ow!” Dustin echoed.

They looked great too. Dustin had a navy suit, while Lucas wore a black one.

“Thanks guys, I—oof!”

A body slammed into his side, arms wrapping around him in a high-pitched giggle.

“Will!”

“Hey, Holly,” he said with a laugh.

She was a little obsessed with him. Mike hated it. Or loved it, depending on the day.

“I’m on picture duty! Say cheese!”

A bright flash blinded him. He groaned, holding a hand up to cover his eyes even though it was too late.

“Here you go! Actually, I’m gonna keep it,” Holly said.

“You gonna practice kissing on that Polaroid later, Hols?”

“Max, shut up.”

Will’s eyes went wide when he saw her. She was glowing.

Her long hair was smoothed into long, big waves. Like an Old Hollywood movie star. Her dress was black, long and only had a few ruffles, just understated enough to not steal the attention from her face. She wore enough makeup to not hide her freckles while still accentuating her features.

Will whistled. “Wow!”

“Spare me,” Max said with an eye roll. “I can’t wait to get this thing off.”

Will’s family arrived next, and after his mom spent far too long hugging and tearing up at the sight of the Party all dolled up, she asked the question he’d been dying to voice.

“Where’s Mike, honey?”

His cheeks grew hot when everyone looked to him, like he was the only one who could answer.

“Oh, I’m not sure—”

“Michael!” Mrs. Wheeler called up the stairs. “Get down here right now, we’re all waiting for you!”

“I’M COMING!”

Will bit back a smirk. It was like clockwork. Maybe it was the fact that he never lived in a multi-story home before his stint here, but it always astounded Will that the Wheelers screeched to each other like animals instead of walking down a staircase before speaking like normal people did.

“You’re so impatient, I was doing something important!” Mike pouted, just out of view.

There was a sea of bodies cramped into the living room, but Will wasn’t surprised when Mike’s eyes found his first. They always did.

This time was different.

Will had spent years memorizing the shape of Mike.

Every freckle. The dip of his brows when he was concerned. Whether the pout of his lips was from annoyance or surprise. The subtle twitch of fingers that meant a thought had just struck Mike like lightning. The telltale crack in his voice when he lied, which was very different than the one when he told the truth.

There was no need for a study guide this time, no sifting through the encyclopedia of Mike Wheeler.

This Mike was happy. It was the most beautiful he had ever looked.

Conversation flowed in every direction, but it all faded to nothing. Because Mike was looking at Will like he was the only source of his joy.

They held their stare long enough that Will let his eyes fully drink him in. The suit was well-fitted, just tight enough to show off his slim figure. He had obeyed Will’s command to ditch the horrendous side part. His curls were more relaxed. The edges peeked out from the side of his ears.

But it was his smile that did Will in. So big that it reached his eyes, pinching the corners.

As they looked to each other, a thought struck Will so fiercely he nearly fell to his knees in surrender. He had thought it a million times. This might as well have been the first time because he wasn’t as scared today.

I love him.

Another bright flash broke him from Mike’s spell.

“That’s it!” Will shouted, directing his attention to Holly. “Give me the camera! You’re done!”

He chased her through the room as she shrieked. When he finally caught her, he snatched the Polaroid camera out of her hands. The photograph sputtered out, falling to the ground.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Will looked up. Holly giggled as she escaped his bear hug, but Will didn’t care. Mike was tucking the photograph into his pocket with a pleased smirk.

“You look…”

“Finally!” Lucas shouted. He gave Mike a hard slap on the back. “What took you so long?”

Mike took a long breath, and Will could practically hear him counting to himself like he always did when he attempted to wrangle his temper down.

“Why? Something important happening today?” Mike asked.

Dustin joined them, quickly pulling Mike into a side hug. “Dude, we’re running late! Come on, let’s get these pictures over with!”

It took another ten minutes before they stood in front of the Wheeler’s house. Nancy was the one who eventually rounded them up, even physically pushing Dustin away from the snacks to join the group.

The five of them lined up on the lawn, arms around each other as they squinted into the glaring sun.

“Alright, on three!” Holly shouted for the twentieth time.

Jonathan was a pro, already having captured dozens of shots himself.

“Alright, we’re running late! Let’s wrap this up!” Dustin whined.

The farewells passed in a blur, all of them promising their parents they wouldn’t get up to any tomfoolery. The parents, Jonathan, and Nancy retreated into the house for a few celebratory drinks of their own, but Will’s family, of course, lingered.

“I love you, sweetie,” his mom sighed into his chest as she wrapped him in a hug.

Hopper chimed in, “Yeah, love you, kiddo. Have fun. Don’t let Wheeler pull any weird shit, okay?”

“Hop, please—”

Jonathan pulled him into another hug. “Be safe. Have fun.”

When the front door clicked shut behind them, Will realized the Party had already piled into Dustin’s car.

Mike hopped out of the backseat and shouted, “Sorry, I forgot something!”

He whizzed past Will. The front door slammed shut behind him.

“You gotta be shitting me!” Dustin groaned.

Max poked her head out the window. “Will! You don’t mind driving too, do you? We wanna get in line for a table!”

“Oh, um—”

“Great!” she beamed. “See you there!”

“But…” Will started, but it was too late. Dustin drove off.

“Just one minute!” Mike shouted from the door.

Will stood there on the lawn, unsure if he should fire up the car or join him inside. Just as he walked up the driveway, Mike shouted, “Jesus Christ, Holly, come on!”

The two of them rushed outside, and Mike nearly slammed into him.

Will laughed. “What are you doing?”

Mike slid an arm around his waist and pointed the other at his sister.

“We didn’t take a picture together.”

“Mike, we took a million pictures—”

“Just the two of us,” he insisted. A soft pinch squeezed his waist, and Will looked to him with his jaw dropped.

Snap.

“Oh, that one is good,” Holly gushed.

“One more! Say, ‘prom with my best friend!’”

Will’s ears heated. Mike must have told Holly about last night; she must have eavesdropped—

“You little shit, just take the damn picture,” Mike said.

“Say it,” she taunted them, “or no photo for you.”

“Prom with my best friend,” they said, lying through their teeth as she snapped another.

When the Polaroid slipped out Holly waved it in the air, fanning her smirking face. “Liars.”

Mike snatched the photograph from her hands. She cackled and ran off. Will jumped when the front door slammed shut, still stunned to silence.

Mike guided him with a hand on his lower back towards the car. “Shall we?”

It still shocked Will, even knowing what he did now, how Mike managed to do that. He could go on like the rug wasn’t pulled from under his feet.

“We shall.”

Mike opened the door for him, which was ridiculous because Will was driving and needed to manually unlock it. But he could play along, so he slid into his seat and let Mike close the door behind him. When he joined, he buckled himself in and turned the radio on.

By the time they reached the end of Maple Street, Will couldn’t bear the silence any longer. Not even music could contain him. “Are you excited?”

“You’re joking, right?”

He wasn’t. Will looked to him as they sat at the intersection.

Mike’s knees bounced against the cracked leather seat, nearly smacking the glove box. Nerves scattered all over his face in the smile that morphed to a smirk and then a laugh. Eyes wide, brown, and unguarded against the late-afternoon sunlight.

“Wow. Nothing could shake you last night, Sir Michael. Look at thee now,” Will said. He couldn’t stop smiling either.

“Don’t taunt the heart that bleeds within, Will, my Wise,” he jeered back.

Will laughed as his cheeks heated. This suit jacket was starting to feel uncomfortably tight; his skin was crawling with nerves.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“You like it.”

“Whatever you say,” Will said, shaking his head.

In the few minutes they had been in the car, it was like the sun had shrugged and decided it was time to go to sleep for the night. It chased the horizon, blazing streaks of coral and gold painting the town as they drove. Everything was so much more vibrant at this hour; the trees, the pavement. Mike’s smile as Will snuck a glance.

Mike reached into the glove box and pulled out a pair of sunglasses.

“Here,” he said, holding them out in offering.

Will put them on and sighed in relief. They eased the strain. “Huh. I didn’t know these were in there.”

The tail of his suit jacket strained as Mike shifted in his seat. “Oh, well, I left them in here the other day.”

“In the glove box?”

“Well, yeah. In case you needed them,” Mike said.

That was the final straw. Will was going to explode.

He had been rolling at a low boil for months, going insane as he scoured his memories even seconds after the moments had passed. Reading into every held door, the glances that lingered more and more each time they stole them.

But this. This Mike was something else entirely.

They would be eastbound in a few short months, heading into tight quarters in their shared dorm. When Mike had originally suggested it, Will thought it was a horrible idea. He knew whatever shot he had of moving on would be left behind, abandoned in the rearview mirror along with Hawkins.

So he had told Mike he would think about it. In the meantime, Mike had tiptoed his way into Will’s heart more than he already was. He had carved new space in the organ until there was barely a lick of space left for his lungs and the ribcage that protected it.

When he was alone, terror settled in. He rivalled Murray in terms of doomsday prepping, mentally packing a list of belongings and inside jokes and books in the Wheeler’s house he would have to pack up before skipping town if things went wrong.

And then moments like this would happen. It was no wonder at all that Will had caved after a week and told Mike he would live with him.

Mike somehow made his heart race yet soothed his nerves all at once. There was a whimsiness to it all—he had to credit the comic book. Returning to their childhood interests and impulses had healed him. And while the grief of losing El never got easier, they learned to manage it together.

Managing emotions was something he could do now that there were no impending threats of world domination and possession. Funny how life worked that way.

“What’s so funny?”

Will bit the hot flesh behind his cheeks. “Nothing, it’s just… I’m thinking about how different things are now. Never thought we’d live to see prom. Or if we did, I guess I’d assume we’d be doing the Monster Mash.”

“It’s not the most appropriate time of year…” Mike joked.

“Ha.”

As they rolled through downtown, Will noticed it was just as crowded as earlier. Groups of teenagers gathered outside the movie theater. Couples headed into Enzo’s for an early date night. The town was ready for summer.

Mike asked, “Any goals for the night?”

“Hmmm,” Will said. “Dance. Eat. Sing.”

“All good goals,” Mike considered.

Will looked to him as they came to the final stoplight standing between them and Hawkins High.

Mike was still giddy, tapping his fingers along to the music. Seeing him dressed up like this was extraordinary. Will had long since associated suits with the taste of melancholy and grief. The last time they both wore one was at El’s funeral. When they lowered an empty casket.

“Do you have any goals?”

Mike’s eyes danced and twinkled, a dead giveaway. Will narrowed his eyes. “Tell me.”

Mike smirked. “You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

A shiver coursed down Will’s spine. Mike didn’t just make plans. He crafted them carefully, putting every inch of his mind into planning the meticulous details.

“I guess I don’t have a choice,” Will complained.

Mike shoved his arm as the stoplight turned green. “Poor you.”

Will pressed on the gas. “Thank you. Nobody wants to give me any sympathy in this town. At least I have you to understand me.”

Mike let out a satisfied hum. Greedy bastard.

“Before we go in, I need your help with something,” Mike said.

The traffic let up as they neared the school, so Will sped up. Their friends would be waiting.

“First of your many evil plans?”

“Something like that,” he said. Will could hear his smile.

Hawkins High appeared how it only did during football games. In other words, Will had never seen it this crowded. The parking lot was filled completely; as he pulled in, Will realized he had no choice but to park on the grass beside the road along with some of the other stragglers.

The music died as he turned the car off.

“Jonathan gave me this on the way out,” Mike said. He pulled a small box out from under his feet.

“I completely forgot that. Thank you.”

Mike pulled out another box. He carefully opened them and set them in his lap, revealing one blue and one yellow boutonnière.

“I was thinking…”

Will swallowed. How Mike planned to make something as simple as a prom accessory into a part of his plan, he had no clue.

“This one is obviously yours,” he said, holding up the box with the yellow flowers. “But what if you wore mine?”

“Oh!” Will was suddenly aware of how hot it was in the car. The heat of the setting sun had snuck its way in somewhere along the way, painting his cheeks pink. “Um. Why?”

Mike smiled. “Why not?”

That was a question Will had asked himself so many times over the last few months.

Why not brush his arm against Mike’s as they walked to class together? Why not sleepover at his house the entirety of spring break? Why not fall asleep in his bed after a long day of sketching when it was so much comfier and closer than the couch in the basement? Why not share popcorn and a drink at the movies? Why not let his hand linger, knowing Mike was reaching for it too?

Why not wear each other’s boutonnières?

The logical part of Will’s brain thought of a million reasons why not. He could color code them at this point.

So he answered how he did every time he asked himself that question.

“I don’t see a reason not to.”

If Mike was the judge, he gave the right answer.

“Come here.”

Will shuffled closer.

He shivered as Mike held the flowers to his chest. Darted his eyes to the window as laughter from other prom-goers passing by the car. Looked back to Mike, focusing on where his hands touched him. Held his breath as Mike bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. Let his own eyes flutter shut as the pin pressed in, so close to his tender, aching heart.

“Beautiful.” Mike smiled, pleased with his work as he pulled back. “My turn.”

He settled into his seat, kicking his feet out like he had nowhere to be.

“Oh, so you don’t have to come closer?” Will asked. It was hardly fair.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Your arms look long enough to reach me.”

The game, Will liked to call it. What Mike played when he dared Will to come closer, to look nearer. He hated losing to him, the sore winner that he was. So Will fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.

He grabbed the yellow boutonnière and the pin from the box and leaned closer. Pressed it to his left lapel. Carefully aimed the pin—

Mike’s breath hitched.

“Stop twitching.”

“Sorry.”

Will narrowed his eyes, focusing on sticking the pin between the stems and into his suit jacket. It took some finagling but once he got it in, he realized Mike wasn’t breathing.

He didn’t let go of his jacket when he looked up, but Mike’s gaze was staring lower.

His eyes—soft, deeply brown, so familiar—were locked on Will’s mouth.

“Mike,” he breathed.

He looked up, meeting his gaze.

Will swallowed, sucking up the only air left in the car. Time seemed to stand still, a few moments stretching out the thick line of tension, poised to snap if Will breathed wrong.

Mike opened the car door. “Wait here.”

As it slammed shut, Will almost fell forward into the passenger seat. He exhaled, his breath shaky and uneven.

Mike opened his door, and a rush of fresh air came just in time for Will to suck it in.

“No time for dilly-dallying. We’re late.”

Will huffed out a laugh. “When have you ever cared about being late?”

“Never,” Mike said. “Unless we’re saving the world or have a prom to get to.”

They walked to the gym, following the herd of other dawdlers. The sun kissed the horizon, ready to send them off to an evening of the unknown.

Will could hear it through the opened doors. The music had started.

Prom had begun.

“Are you limping?” Mike asked.

“No,” Will replied too quickly.

“What happened?”

He sounded angry, like there was someone who had to pay the price for his injury. Will laughed to himself as he imagined Mike confronting the young boy, calling him a dipshit. Mike running and screaming as the kid gunned him down on his bike, full steam ahead.

“It’s not funny, Will. You’re hurt,” Mike said. He grabbed his arm, slowing him down until they came to a halt.

“Please. What are you gonna do, carry me?” he asked as he rolled his eyes. Mike’s eyes flew wide open, lips parting with a response that was locked and loaded. Will interrupted, “That was a joke. Do not carry me. I’m fine. I just scraped my knee earlier.”

“You’re no fun,” Mike grumbled.

When they entered the gym, it was utter chaos. The check-in line wrapped around the walls. Mike groaned when he saw it; he clearly didn’t account for this when he made his grand plans.

Once they were trailing near the end of the line, Mike searched the gym for the Party.

“HEY! Dustin!” he shouted and waved his arms.

Dustin was talking to Stacey and pointing to the mural on the wall beside them. It didn’t look great in this lighting—the Starry Night theme didn’t lend itself well to this time of day. The last streaks of sunlight for the day poured through the enormous windows over the mural, decorations, and attendees.

Their friend shot Mike an annoyed glance before returning to his conversation.

“Dustin! Dustin Dustin Dustin Dustin Dustin Dustin—”

“Jeez, chill,” Will said, shoving his arm.

“I want to know if they got a table,” Mike pouted.

“There are enough seats for everyone,” Will reassured him. “Trust me. I made sure.”

The music continued, but it was lost in the sea of excited chatter. The girls’ dresses were poofy and ruffled, most of them in darker colors to fit the theme. When Will told Max about the potential themes, she threw a fit when he said Under the Neon Lights was in the running.

“I’ll throw myself off a cliff if I have to wear puke green or hot pink,” she had said.

The suits were all a pleasant sight to see too. The boys in Hawkins rarely stepped outside the fashion norms. Just the other day he saw a kid wearing a baseball hat when he was heading into the church downtown for a wedding. A wedding. Will shivered at the thought of getting married one day and someone desecrating the service with such an insult.

That would be a long time from now if it ever happened. He didn’t care if he was thirty. Fifty or sixty, even. If he could walk, or even get pushed in a wheelchair in his old age, he knew he wanted to be married one day. He was a stubborn optimist in that way, refusing the ways of the world. He knew it wasn’t allowed, but that didn’t stop his daydreaming.

If not in this lifetime, maybe the next one. He could make peace with that. Maybe El could be there then.

It wouldn’t be here in Hawkins. The town would never allow it.

Word had gotten around about Will in school this semester. People whispered, even pointed when they were feeling brave. Then there was Troy and his friends. Will learned to avoid them in the hallway after they called him a slur a few weeks ago.

But for the most part, life just went on. Nobody had hurt him like Vecna promised they would. His friends and family accepted him.

So nothing was going to bring him down tonight. Not Troy, not a few gawking losers. If he stuck with the Party, he would be fine.

Will stared into the crowd as they inched forward. The energy was high—it filled Will with a sense of ease, knowing the hard part was over. He could relax now.

As they reached the check-in table, Will recognized the woman behind it. The mother whose son crashed into him this morning.

“Glad to see you made it here in one piece,” she said with a smile.

Will smiled bashfully. “Oh, yeah. Um, I’m sorry for running off. I was late to something. What brings you to prom? I don’t think I’ve seen you at school before.”

“I was just hired at Hawkins High and moved here from New York City with my partner and kids. We needed to upsize with the family growing… anyway. Hawkins seemed a good as place as any; I have some extended family who live a few towns over. I’ll be teaching art in the fall. It’s a shame I won’t have either of you in my class. I’m Miss Ives, by the way.”

Ives. As in Terry Ives? Was she the extended family?

Will looked at her with wide eyes, searching for any hint of a resemblance to his sister.

She looked down at the list of students registered for prom. “Names?”

He tried to find El in her face, but there was no trace of her in Miss Ives’ blue eyes, peachy complexion, or blonde hair. But family didn’t have to mean resemblance—Will knew that.

Mike cleared his throat and spoke up. “He’s Will Byers, and I’m Mike Wheeler.”

“Very nice to meet you, boys.” She held a piece of paper closer to her eyes, squinting at the tiny font. “Ah! Here you are, Mike… and Will, too. You’re all set.”

“Thank you, Miss Ives,” Mike said carefully.

“Have fun tonight. Oh, and Will?”

He looked back to her. “Yeah?”

She smiled. “Watch out for kids on bicycles.”

“Will do,” he said. “Thanks again.”

They took slow steps away from the table, shoulders knocking into the swarm of students walking past them.

“Was that—”

“Do you think—”

Their eyes met. Mike said, “That was definitely… right?”

Will considered it. Thought about his visit to Roane Hill. How he asked El for a sign.

“There’s no way to know for sure.”

“Knowing isn’t the point,” Mike told him. Tears welled in his eyes. “Do you believe it?”

Will nodded before he spoke, like his body knew the answer before his mind did. “Yeah. I do.”

Mike smiled and pulled him into a hug right there in the middle of the crowd. “Me too,” he mumbled into Will’s neck. His tears streaked against him there, and Will leaned in.

Will looked around, eyes darting around the room to see if anyone stared. Nobody did, but he pulled back anyway.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” he asked, wiping away a tear of his own.

“Yeah,” Mike replied. His eyes were wide and glassy. Happy. “Let’s go do prom.”

The music cut when Principal Higgins made an announcement. He told them to be responsible, thanked the planning committee for their hard work, and to find their seats for dinner. There were no complaints from the attendees—they all flocked to tables, eager for some food and to get the party started.

They found Max and Lucas at a table on the edge of the gym. Dustin, Stacey, and the other four students on the planning committee joined shortly after.

Dinner passed quickly, served family style and slightly cold. Will didn’t mind—as long as everyone was properly fed, the rest of the night would go off without a hitch.

“So,” Stacey said with a smirk. “I’m having an after party tonight. My parents are out of town. Do you wanna come?”

“Let’s do it!” Grace said. She was on catering duty, and her boyfriend, Chris, was roped into the heavy lifting projects. He was red in the face, clearly still recovering from hauling hundreds of folding chairs into the gym this afternoon.

“Sounds fun,” Stephanie chimed in. “Can I bring some friends?”

Stephanie was his right-hand woman for decorations. She was a godsend yesterday when he told Will to go home early on the account that he was the first to arrive. He owed her for that—the Party would have been toast if he didn’t arrive to D&D with his prepared Revivify spell.

“Bring everyone! The more the merrier,” Stacey said.

“Great! Mike, I know we don’t really know each other, but I have a friend who has a huge crush on you. Maybe I can introduce you.”

Blood drained from Will’s face. Everything had been perfect until now, more than perfect—

“Sorry. I’m spoken for,” Mike said.

Something pinched Will’s lower thigh. Will’s eyes flew wide open, darting to Mike. He was relaxed, focusing on cleaning every crumb of chocolate cake off his plate. But then his hand lingered, squeezing Will’s knee.

Stacey laughed. “I didn’t know that. You’ll have to tell us more about that later. Dustin, what do you say? Wanna come?”

He nodded fervently, entranced by her. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Mike let go of his knee and grabbed his hand under the table. Laced their fingers together.

Stacey laughed. “You’re so cute. What about the rest of you? Will?”

“Sorry, what?” he asked, his voice cracked. He was dizzy.

“The party, silly. Do you wanna come?”

“Oh! Right. Yeah, sounds fun. Thanks Stacey.”

“I’m down too,” Lucas said. Max nodded absentmindedly. Her eyes were more focused on Mike.

Stacey smiled, pleased that she rounded up the troops. “Great! I’m so glad we can all celebrate together. This was a real bitch to plan. We’ve earned all the drinks we’ll have later. Cheers to the best prom planning committee ever!”

They all raised their cups of sparkling cider.

Dustin drained his and slammed it to the table. “Alright, let’s go dance!”

“Will! Come with me, I had a question about the, uh, decorations,” Max said, pulling him away from the dance floor.

“But—”

“It’ll just take a second!”

Max dragged him away, off to the hallway just outside the gym. Once she shut the door behind them, she crossed her arms. The music faded to muffle, pounding on the walls with each beat.

“Spill.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. The mural is literally just a rip-off of Van Gogh with glow in the dark paint—”

She rolled her eyes. “Just stop. We’re not talking about the mural.”

He bit his lip, like he had to stifle the real words from tumbling out. “We’re not?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Max bit back. “Something happened between you and Mike, and you’re going to tell me what it is. Did you kiss him?”

A blazing heat crawled up his neck as he thought of the car. “No!”

“Not yet. Then what happened?”

“Max…”

“He said something. Didn’t he.”

“Yes,” he groaned. “But I’m not telling you what it is.”

“You’re impossible. I can practically see you running it back in that wacky little mind of yours.”

Max was right. The memory of last night burned bright in his mind.

༺☆༻

Will collapsed into Mike’s bed next to his sketchbook.

“I’m exhausted,” he complained.

It had been a long day. School was rough this time of year with the ever-present threat of final exams from his teachers. When the final bell rang, all Will wanted to do was drive home and collapse in his bed. Instead, he dragged his feet to the gym to finish hanging the decorations with Stephanie. It had given him a second wind, so he decided to join the Party for their D&D session.

It was a good thing he did. The session was an absolute disaster, a whole mess of combat and downed Party members.

Dustin was cackling in his pitiful Asmodeus voice when he walked in. He was DMing for the first time and completely screwed them over with the challenge ratings. The only battle miniature left standing on the table was Mike the Brave with only a few hit points left.

“You can sleep the summer away. Come on, stay up with me,” Mike pouted beside him.

His room was illuminated in warm tones from the bedside lamp. It cast long shadows across the space, over Mike’s profile as Will looked at him.

“Just for a little bit. If I start dozing off, don’t wake me.”

“Fine. But before you do…” Mike trailed off, biting his lip.

Will snuggled into his pillow and narrowed his eyes. Mike was shaking, he realized. He figured it was the lingering adrenaline from the campaign.

“What?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Will yawned and nodded, encouraging him to continue.

There was a whole mess of emotions on Mike’s face, but Will was too tired to sift through them. So he relaxed into the spot on the bed that had somehow become his over the past few months and waited.

“Do you remember when you guys picked me up from the airport freshman year?”

Will nodded.

Mike sighed. “It was so hot that day in California. I’ll never forget walking off the plane and feeling like I couldn’t breathe. The skybridge was chalk full of people, and I could hear when we all tried to steal the air from each other. There just wasn’t enough of it to go around.”

He shook his head and continued, “I got off, and I saw El. I was excited, but nervous too. Did you know she told me you had been working on a painting for a girl you liked?”

Will’s head snapped to look at him. “What?”

Mike chuckled. “Yeah. It was the first thing I wanted to ask you about. But I was acting so weird, and I just didn’t understand why. All I knew was that I wanted to hug you, but there was this girl that you didn’t tell me about, and my brain did some truly horrendous mental gymnastics. I thought that was why we weren’t talking much at the time. So… I just couldn’t do it. You touched me and I flinched.”

The painting. He knew.

“Oh.”

“I think that’s when I finally understood what you meant when we fought in the rain. I was so angry. I wondered if you would rather hang out with her while I was in town. And then I started arguing with you in my head, like this fictitious little projection to torture myself. And that’s when you said it.”

Will remembered that fight like it was yesterday. He had said a lot of things, but he didn’t regret them, necessarily. More that he regretted that it got to that point. Life was so different back then—it was like his friends were growing up while he was stuck in an eternally vicious Groundhog’s Day.

“What did I say?”

Mike fell on his side, looking to him.

“’It’s not my fault you don’t like girls, Mike.’”

Will’s breath hitched.

Mike’s eyes clung to him, wide and desperate as if Will was the only one who could keep him from being swept away.

“And then when you came out, you didn’t say you were gay. You specifically said, “I don’t like girls. Not like you guys do,’” Mike explained. “And it hit me then what it all meant. It was like the rain was pouring down again, soaking me until all I could feel was freezing cold and sopping wet. Like I was the one biking away.”

Will knew what that felt like. He had lived it. That day, but so many other days too.

He stared at Mike with parted lips, unsure if he was even breathing. The exhaustion weighed on him like a blanket, suppressing reason from forming in his mind.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Will. I think I had to be in your shoes myself for it to register how shitty I had been. Since we were kids, since the day we met, it was like this invisible string tied me to you. It felt like… when you’re close, I can breathe in the same air as you, and I can just understand you without trying. So I didn’t try. For so long.”

The lamp behind him flickered slightly. Will knew it had to be changed soon, but that was a problem for another day.

“Mike… You don’t have to apologize.”

Mike shifted closer. His brows pinched in a frantic desperation as he shook his head.

“No, I really, really do. Please don’t… Don’t act like you don’t deserve an apology, okay? I’m saying sorry, and you don’t have to forgive me. But don’t pretend like you’re not worth at least that.”

Will traced the outline of Mike’s face with tired eyes. This version of him always stirred something deep within his chest, something ancient and knowing. He could feel his conviction, could taste it.

Mike wasn’t giving him a choice in the matter. He wanted Will to accept what he said, and he could never deny him that. Not when all of Mike’s focus was mustered into a determined purse of his lips and narrowed eyes, pointed directly at his heart.

“Okay,” Will said softly. “I do forgive you though. It was forgiven ages ago. I know you never meant to hurt me.”

Will could see the immediate effect of his words. Mike sighed of relief as his lashes fluttered, like he could finally breathe again.

“I’m not sure if I made it obvious enough,” Mike whispered. “I’m gay.”

In some ways, Will did know. He had known for months. Years, even. He knew it when he shoved Mike on the field outside the Squawk; he knew it when Mike asked him to sleep in his bed for the first time in January.

Doubt had always lingered, though, and his bones would rattle in protest of the excuses he made to protect himself. But deep down, permanently etched into his DNA, was a sequence that spelled Mike’s name.

Will also knew what it was like to voice this. How it felt like you were dangling at a precipice, and the only way to survive the fall was if someone was there to catch you.

Mike searched his face for a sign. Will’s fingers twitched, eager to reach out and catch the tears falling onto the mattress.

“Hey,” Will said softly. “It’s okay.”

“Okay?” Mike asked.

“Better than okay. It’s great. Thank you for trusting me.”

Something between a laugh and a sob escaped Mike, like his body needed to cleanse himself of all the tension to make way for relief. It poured from his eyes and mouth, and Will mumbled, “Come here.”

They slid into each other, Mike’s curls pressing to his neck, legs brushing against one another, arms pulling them in closer, and Mike let go.

Will knew there would be no untangling himself from this. Mike had come out and fallen into his arms.

Desire to escalate things didn’t cross Will’s mind. This wasn’t a declaration for him. It was for Mike. This meant something, but they had all the time in the world to find out what it was. For tonight, Mike could transfer the weight on his shoulders to Will until it was spread thin enough for both of them to bear, as long as they stayed like this.

“Thanks, Will. Goodnight.”

༺☆༻

Max waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Will.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “We should go back inside.”

“Fine. But don’t think for a second that this conversation is permanently over.”

He knew better than to second guess that, which was precisely why he needed to talk to Mike. They had tiptoed around each other enough.

The bass of the music groaned into the doors. Will felt it vibrate through his hands as he pulled it open.

He looked over his shoulder at Max and shouted, “Come on!”

She lifted her dress and ran after him with the biggest smile he’d ever seen her wear.

They pushed through the crowd of bodies, and Will searched the top of it for Mike. He always loved how tall he was, but it was particularly useful tonight.

Max joined Lucas and Dustin, letting them both give her a twirl to the beat of the music. Mike was next to them, facing the opposite wall. Will jumped on his back, shouting, “Gotcha!”

“Jesus!” Mike jumped, his head snapping to Will. “You scared me! Where did you two run off to?”

Will gave him a devilish smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

“I really would!” Mike shouted. His voice cracked with the effort.

Everyone jumped and danced along to the music. Darkness had fully settled in through the windows, and it was truly a starry night. The string lights glowed overhead, reflecting off the disco ball and onto their faces.

The floorboards creaked and moaned underneath them until they caved to the beat. It felt like bouncing on a trampoline.

Maybe the stragglers had finally made it to the dance floor, but everyone pressed in more and more as the music went on. Each breath became a test of endurance. Will didn’t know where his sweat began and everyone else’s ended.

And most noticeably, Mike was everywhere. His hands found Will’s back before sweeping away. His shoulder rubbed against his. His breath tickled his neck as he’d lean closer to say something.

Christened with a newfound determination from his conversation with Max, he played back. He grabbed Mike by the hands, spinning and jumping around. He snuck a foot out, tripping Mike so he would fall into his arms. He looked deep in his eyes as he sang along, saving the most romantic lines just for him.

Between the flashing lights, the closeness, and the shared looks, Will’s head swam with dizziness. He felt lighter. Bolder.

The DJ was impressive, mixing it up between throwbacks, some classic rock, and the current pop hits. Every time Will wanted to abandon the dance floor for water and a breath of fresh air, he was reeled back in with a new song and his friends’ laughter.

Mike stumbled into him. Their eyes met.

There was no room for doubt tonight. The invisible line of tension between them was so palpable Will could taste it. He licked the sweat from his lips, and decided from now on this feeling would taste like salt and a hint of chocolate should it ever snap into place again.

Will was grateful for the swarm of students. They hid in plain sight.

As the song switched again, so did the chatter of the crowd. The time for the first slow dance of the evening had arrived.

A hand tapped the back of his shoulder.

“Wanna dance?” Stephanie asked.

Her friend stood beside her, tapping Mike on the shoulder too. “Um,” Will said, his eyes darting between Stephanie and him.

“Relax,” she said with a laugh. “I know your deal. Just friends.”

He was suddenly overwhelmed with the knowledge that her friend was leaning up to ask Mike the same question. The girl with the crush on him. He nodded and took Stephanie by the waist.

The song drawled on as they stepped side-to-side. To her credit, Stephanie made easy conversation, mostly asking him about plans for college. When he found out she was Columbia-bound, they made plans to meet up in the city when they had the chance.

Halfway through the song, he snuck a glance at Mike. It was so plain on his face that he felt bad for the girl—he was miserable.

Will chuckled as he looked back to Stephanie. “Sorry about him.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped in closer, her words for his ears only. “I’m pretty sure she hooked up with my ex last semester, so I told her Mike was interested.”

“Ha!” Will laughed in delight and turned her until his back was to Mike. “You picked the perfect guy. I won’t look, but check his face. Ten bucks says he’s staring at the ceiling with a scrunched pout on his face.”

“You’re on.”

Her hands dug into his shoulders so she could peek over his shoulder.

“No way in hell you just predicted that!” she exclaimed, throwing her head back with a delighted laugh. “Are you hiding some secret magical powers or something?”

During the final battle, time slowed down as his mom took an axe to Vecna’s neck. Will could have pinpointed when Vecna died down to the millisecond—it was the same time the connection was severed, his powers gone with the roll of his head to the dusty ground.

So when the back of his neck tingled this time, he knew it wasn’t Vecna or the Mind Flayer. It was simply Mike’s heated stare aimed directly at them.

Will smiled. Magic was still real after all.

“Something like that.”

When the song ended, Mike dragged him off the dance floor by the hand. Will giggled as Mike pulled him out the side door and down the hallway. When they came to a stop in front of a classroom, Will asked, still out of breath, “Are you locking me up in here or something?”

Mike’s eyes twinkled as he pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“You’ll see.”

With a firm shove, the door swung open. It wasn’t a classroom. It was a room for many of the school’s clubs.

“Welcome to Hellfire,” Mike said with a knowing smile. “Back for one night only.”

Will followed him in and took in the space. He heard about all the adventures, had read through Mike’s notebooks that recapped each session. The room was so empty now. No battle minis, no DM screen, no chairs around the table. It was just another room.

“And I’m your humble Dungeon Master,” Mike added, walking over to the table. “You’ve been summoned, Will the Wise. There’s a paladin, you see. Heartbroken from adventures lost, roaming the Forgotten Realms with no company but his divine sword. He hasn’t seen you yet. But be careful. He’s on guard.”

Will smiled as joined Mike in front of the table.

“Why is he on guard?”

Mike’s hand dug into his pocket to retrieve a blue d20.

He twisted it between his index finger and thumb and said, “He’s made many mistakes. Tried to protect those who didn’t need it. Failed others he could have saved. But all hope isn’t lost. He’s been waiting for someone this whole time, someone who can take him on a new adventure. Sir Michael just hasn’t realized it yet.”

Will’s heart twisted and clenched, beating erratically as the true intent of the game settled.

“I see. How fortuitous that I, Will the Wise, am in need of an adventuring partner of my own,” he explained. “My armor is flimsy, my spirits low. A strong, protective paladin would serve me well.”

“Fortuitous indeed. Why don’t you roll for persuasion?”

Mike held the die out to him, quirking a brow in challenge.

Will took it. Never looked away as he shook it in his hands and released it. The die soared across the table.

Will frowned as he read the result. “Seven.”

“Hmmm. Luckily for you, the paladin has a soft heart for clerics. Pathetically so, that the DC for the roll was a five,” Mike said. “He humbly accepts your offer to join forces. In recognition of your new bond, Mike the Brave presents you with a gift.”

Will laughed, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all. Every time he thought Mike couldn’t get any nerdier, he managed to surprise him.

Mike pulled something else out of his pocket and held it out to Will. As he took it, Mike jogged to the other side of the room.

Will looked down at the mixtape and read the title aloud.

“For Will. Love, Mike.”

Love, Mike.

The room dimmed as Mike pulled at the switch on the wall. He returned with a Walkman and put it on the table.

“I made this for you today,” he said, looking to Will shyly. “That’s why I was running late. But I couldn’t take another second of watching someone else dance with you. I figured…”

Will knew love could hurt, but the sting in his cheeks from smiling so brightly was a foreign brand of it.

“Are you asking me to dance with you right now?”

Mike smirked as he took the mixtape from his hands and put it into the Walkman.

He pressed play.

“Yes, Will. I am asking you to dance with me during our senior prom.”

He held out his hand in offering. There was no hesitation when Will accepted.

Mike led them to the middle of the room before twisting around and wrapping his hands around his waist. Will wrapped his own around Mike’s neck and pulled him closer.

Their steps to the music weren’t perfectly to the beat, but it didn’t matter. He wanted this at the Snow Ball and he wanted it five minutes ago.

They were slow dancing at prom together.

“Will,” Mike murmured.

He stepped closer and looked into his eyes. “Mike.”

“We’re really doing this,” he said. It sounded more like a reminder to himself, like he couldn’t believe it was real.

Will couldn’t help himself. There was a question inside of him that had churned in his gut for months. He shoved it down every day from the second he woke up in the morning. Each evening, it had found its way up to his throat and to the tip of his tongue.

“What are we doing?”

Mike swallowed. “I think you know.”

Will pinched the back of his neck, and Mike yelped in response. They somehow ended closer, their chests flush against each other. He felt Mike’s heartbeat fluttering against his collarbone, wild and erratic. All because of him.

“Partially. I know what I’m doing. What are you doing?”

Mike smiled widely, his eyes twinkling with a daring playfulness. “I’m slow dancing at prom with my best—”

“Don’t finish that sentence if you want to live,” Will interrupted, but he laughed anyway. “Jesus, Holly was diabolical for that.”

He imagined it then—Holly jumping out with her Polaroid and capturing this moment, blinding them with a flash. He wanted this moment bottled for safe keeping, so he opened his eyes wider and took in every detail.

The yellow boutonnière pinned to Mike’s chest. The fall of his curls onto his forehead. The way he had to look down at him because they were so close. Will could feel his breath tickle the top of his nose.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist,” Mike laughed. “What I’m doing… is trying to figure out the perfect way to do something. I somehow can’t find the words so I’m joking about it instead.”

They swayed to the song as Will searched his eyes. Just like earlier, they were unguarded, the truth lain bare on the surface. Mike didn’t have to say any of it.

All he had to do was lean in and take Will’s mouth against his own, and Will would be done for. But there was a quiet summoning happening in those brown eyes; gears turning one way and then another. Will could be patient.

“Will, I… I don’t know what I would do without you. Every day, it’s like I wake up and I feel closer to you than ever. But it’s still never enough. Does that make sense?”

He nods, because yes. That’s exactly how he feels. Like every time he needs something—air, sleep, water—it’s immediately filled with a need that’s doubled for Mike.

“And I look back on everything, how you’ve been by my side. Even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when El was here. And… I wish she was still here. You know that.”

Somewhere in the months and months of grieving her, the sting of her name from his mouth lessened until it faded completely. The thought of talking about El with him and that old feeling of jealousy rising to the surface almost made him want to laugh now. There was still an ever-present regret that he didn’t get the chance to admit he had feelings for Mike when she was alive.

But she had made her choice. He knew he would’ve fought her. Their family and friends. Mike would have too.

The road to accepting the way things were was a long one. Still ongoing. But he liked to think she would want him to be happy in the same way he was for her when she looked at Mike in the earlier years of their relationship.

If she was still out there, maybe she would find someone else. Someone who actually liked girls. Someone who could give her everything she wanted and more.

“I know. Me too. I think she is still with us, in a way. I’ve been thinking about her so much today,” Will confessed. “She just keeps popping up. But I’m getting off topic. You were saying…?”

He watched Mike as he herded his thoughts into words. Rubbed the back of his neck with his thumb in reassurance, as if to say, I’m here. Spit it out or take your time. Whatever you please.

“I’ve been thinking about what comes next. Take the dorm for example. The week you spent thinking about it was unbearable. And then I think about life after college. Travelling the world. Eating new foods. Playing new games, making other friends, writing books… and it just doesn’t make sense. Not if you’re not there.”

Will thought of their first D&D set. How opening the box would have felt so different if it was done in solitude.

Will never would have learned the rules of combat if Mike didn’t read the player’s handbook aloud. Mike had thought Forgotten Realms was a lame setting until Will scribbled a map of Waterdeep’s coastline until his cerulean crayon ran out.

“I know what you mean.”

“I’m crazy for you, Will. I have been for so long that I didn’t even realize it. I just thought that was the way things were, so I missed it. Not… not anymore. It’s like I’m awake now. Like every time I see you, it’s for the first time.”

“Mike… I don’t think you have the faintest idea how crazy you make me.”

Mike smiled. “Good thing we made an agreement about what we’d do if that happened.”

Crazy together.

“I love you, Will.”

“I love you, too.”

Somewhere along the way, they moved closer. So close that he could map each freckle on his face, the way they weren’t perfectly circular or each the same shade.

The string of tension from earlier was no longer blazing. It was soft, pulsing with sweet desire.

Will’s eyes fluttered shut as Mike’s nose brushed against his. They lingered there for a moment, breathing in each other’s air. It gave Will just enough time to know when it would happen.

The first brush of Mike’s lips against his was tentative. Barely there.

Then Mike sighed and leaned in for more.

Will had sketched him enough to have memorized the shape of his mouth long ago, but a sixth sense unlocked as they kissed. There was so much more to it than what he had known. A soft warmth and shakiness. A pliancy that gave way to Will’s desire as he angled his head and moved his lips too.

There was so much more to explore, new places of Mike to memorize, so he brought his hands to either side of his face, brushing over his jaw. He already knew the way it dropped when he was pissed off and how it clenched when he had the mind to bite back words he would regret. Now he knew how it flexed under his touch, how he could push a thumb down and it would give until Mike’s tongue brushed against his lips.

Mike explored too. His hands had a mind of their own, tracing up and down his back as if he had never seen it before. When he brought them higher, just over the hem of his collar to the back of his neck, Will’s back arched as he shivered.

It was exactly what Mike must have wanted because he turned his head, their noses brushing as they switched sides, and he went in for more. His lips parted enough for their tongues to brush. He tasted like chocolate and cider and something else that he immediately cataloged as Mike Mike Mike.

Will had no idea what he was doing, but there was a truth to the advice he had gotten over the years. Just go with the flow.

It was flowing to say the least. If the heat of Mike’s stare made him feel sorcerous, the feeling of his mouth against his was the essence of magic itself. Now that he had a taste… nothing else mattered.

His mind took a backseat as his body took over. Each breath was frantic, coming hot out of his nose. Then, even that wasn’t enough, so he pulled back to gasp for air. It was cool against his wet lips as he sucked it in.

His eyes fluttered open to meet Mike’s awaiting gaze.

They broke down in a fit of laughter immediately.

“I love you,” Mike said through a giggle.

Smiling was even sweeter as the taste of him lingered on his lips. “I love you too.”

“I could do that all night,” Mike confessed. “But… I want to be at prom with my boyfriend.”

Will smiled as he stepped in closer. He brought a teasing hand to Mike’s chest as he said, “Oh, your boyfriend?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “You think I’d kiss just anyone like that?”

“Call me crazy, I just figured there was an order of operations to that kind of thing. You know, starting with asking someone out.”

Mike laughed. “Then consider this me calling you crazy. You’re my boyfriend now.”

“So entitled,” Will chuckled. He leaned in for another kiss, just something sweet to hold him over for the next few hours.

As he pulled back, he realized the mixtape was still playing. “You said you made the tape for me today?”

“Shit,” Mike grumbled, running over to pause it. “We’ll grab it on the way out. I want you to listen to it. Like, really listen with no distractions. Consider the songs my way of asking you to be my boyfriend.”

Will nodded. He felt spoiled beyond belief—an entire evening of fun with their friends was just down the hall, and now he had another lifechanging item added his to do list.

“Listen,” Mike said, grabbing his hands. “If I don’t, you know, hold your hand out there, or kiss you or whatever—"

“Mike. It’s fine,” Will interrupted. “I know we have to be safe. Just think of it as… saving it for later?”

Mike’s grin turned feral, eyes wide with an excitement he had never seen before. He took a step closer, and Will backed up in a reflex until Mike pushed him against the door.

“Dear God. I shouldn’t have said that. You know what I mean.”

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean.” He dove in, kissing him again. There was a searing heat to it this time, so much that he had no choice to push Mike off of him.

“Behave. Let’s go to prom.”

This Mike—boyfriend Mike—seemed to obey commands better than best friend Mike, so off they went.

It was like no time had passed. The dance floor was the same as ever, filled with dancing bodies and laughter and horrible singers.

They found their friends as the next song started.

“Finally! Where the hell were you guys?!” Dustin shouted over the music.

“We were—”

“Just went to—”

“I can’t hear you over the music!” Max yelled. “Can we just dance?!”

Will sighed with relief. He was bursting with the urge to tell them, but this really wasn’t the time or place.

So they danced until their feet ached, until they were so sweaty that they had no choice but to ditch the bowties and unbutton their shirts. Will’s knee was throbbing, but that was a problem for tomorrow.

They sang until their voices became scratched out, they laughed until their stomachs hurt, and they yelled “WHAT?” far too many times to be allowed until they gave up on talking entirely.

“Sup, Byers!” a voice shouted at him. Will turned and as soon as he saw Troy, he knew it wouldn’t be good. He was practically stumbling, clearly drunk off of God knows what.

“Saw you and Wheeler sneaking off earlier! Did you suck his dick in the bath—”

Mike’s fist collided with his face with a crack. Troy stumbled back as blood poured from his nose. He looked up in shock and shouted, “I see how it is Wheeler, you liked it—"

“You son of a bitch!” Dustin screeched. He ran at Troy and tackled him to the ground.

“FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!”

Will fell to the ground, grabbing Dustin’s arms. Lucas helped him pull him off.

“Break it up!” Principal Higgins shouted. “Walsh, Henderson! You’re done! You too—Wheeler, Sinclair, Byers!”

Max shimmied past him, stalking towards Troy—

A slap rang through the gym, stunning everyone to silence. If Will’s jaw wasn’t already on the floor, it would be now. Because Troy Walsh was pissing himself.

Laughter erupted like an explosion, tearing and echoing through the gym as every ounce of blood drained from Troy’s face.

“THAT’S IT!” Higgins screamed. “Mayfield, get the hell out of my sight—all of you! I’ll see you in my office first thing Monday morning!”

As they walked out to the lot, Will remembered.

“Mike, the tape!”

“Shit. One minute,” he said.

He turned and ran back to the gym. The four of them waited in the middle of the lot, still laughing too much to form coherent conversation. Will looked to the sky and was greeted with a crescent moon and a sea of twinkling stars.

At least the theme had prevailed.

Miss Ives came outside, clearly telling him he couldn’t come in. Mike must have worked his magic because he gave them a thumbs up as she went inside. She returned a minute later with the tape. Waved to them all in farewell.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe that worked,” Mike said as he rejoined them.

“Max, what on earth possessed you to do that?” Will asked. “The fight was already over!”

“Not to answer your question so literally, but it was El. I feel like she would’ve wanted me to do that,” Max said.

“Hell yeah she would,” Lucas said with a laugh. “And he pissed himself—just like he did when El got his ass! Damn. That was good.”

“Asshole was lucky she wasn’t there,” Dustin said. Troy had landed a punch on him clearly—his nose was bleeding and bruised. “In all honesty, I’m feeling her presence right now too. I mean, walking away from a fight with a bloody nose? She made that shit look so cool. Hurts a lot more when it’s not from superpowers.”

“Did it hurt? The nosebleeds?” Max asked.

“Oh, um. No, not really. It was kind of annoying, actually. I don’t know how El put up with it. I used to…” Will trailed off. He frowned as the impact of his memories hit him.  “I used to hate when she borrowed my clothes. She stained them with her blood every time.”

“You still have them though,” Mike said. He gave him a soft smile, and it eased the strain a little.

Talking about her now did too. It really was like she came to prom after all.

“Hey guys!”

They all turned towards the gym. Stacey, Stephanie, Grace, Chris, and a handful of others were walking towards them.

“We decided to leave a little early. They had to turn the lights back on so the janitor could see all the piss he was mopping up. Anyway, we’re gonna get the party started early! You all still coming?”

They all looked to each other. Dustin was the first to speak up. “I mean, it is still early…”

Mike, Lucas, and Max all agreed.

More and more students shuffled out of the gym.

Will looked to his fellow planning committee members and said, “Looks like prom’s a bust. Kind of up to us to keep it going, right?”

“Hell yeah!” Stephanie shouted. “We’re doing shots!”

Will laughed. “I’m driving, but you have fun with that, Steph.”

“Feel free to just follow behind my car, it’s about a twenty-minute drive!”

They all scattered to their respective vehicles. His friends' laughter echoed through the lot, and Will could even hear it when Mike shut his door for him.

When Mike settled into the car, Will couldn’t wait another second. He leaned over and kissed him.

“We should probably go,” he said as he pulled back. “We’ll lose track of them if we don’t.”

“Ugh. Okay. But as soon as we get there, we’re sneaking off. A bathroom, the basement, a closet—well, maybe not a closet, too soon—”

Will shook his head as he laughed. “The first thing we’re doing is getting ice for your hand. Then we can sneak off.”

Mike pouted, “Can’t you just kiss it better?”

Will grabbed his hand and pulled it to his lips. “There. Better?”

“Much,” Mike said. He settled into his seat with a pleased smirk.

“Mike… thank you by the way. With Troy.”

“Don’t mention it. My parents are gonna kill me, but whatever. It’s a good thing you passed that persuasion check, right?”

“Nerd. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Mike said, and God, it still made Will shiver to hear it. “I was thinking… maybe we could tell the Party later? About us?”

Will laughed at thought of their reactions. Dustin’s shocked gasp, Lucas’s crushing bear hug, Max’s “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”

“I’d like that.”

Will fired up the car, cranked his window down, and shifted the gear into drive. The breeze rolled through the passenger space, and Will sucked it in gladly. He let it fill him up with a possibility that anything could happen. He exhaled and let himself believe that whatever lay beyond would be met with Mike by his side.

As they pulled onto the open road, headlights chasing their friends just ahead, Mike gently pushed the mixtape into the stereo. Everything had finally clicked into place.