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“…As for Will the Wise, he travels far and long to the bustling city of Vallaki.” Mike sits around the D&D table, telling the stories of all the heroes. It’s no secret that the stories he tells are really of his friends. He’s gone around the table to tell everyone’s stories. Dustin going to college and Lucas and Max being together. His chest aches when he reaches Will, though he doesn’t quite understand why. Still, he continues. “It’s overwhelming at first. So very different from the village where he spent his youth. But it isn’t very long before he finds his place there.” He hesitates, just for a second. “And with that, deep happiness…and acceptance.” The thought of Will not being happy and accepted here makes him feel something he can’t name. An unfamiliar ache. He doesn’t know how to describe his feelings. He hasn’t since El died. For the first few months, he was stuck in a cycle of grief. Everyone was, so they helped each other. Mike needed the most help, but he slowly got better. There are still hard days. Days where the pain is so unbearable that he can’t get out of bed. But he’s getting better now. The bad days get less frequent and easier to endure. Deep down, he thinks that the bad days will never fully go away and he’ll just learn how to live around it.
“And the storyteller? What about him?” Will snaps him out of his thoughts. He looks around the table and realizes that everyone’s crying, but Mike can’t help but notice that Will’s tears look…different. More hopeless than hopeful. He also doesn’t miss the way Will’s voice cracks when he asks that question.
Mike thinks for a moment. What about the storyteller?
“The storyteller keeps telling stories, stories inspired by his friends. One day, he hopes their tales of grand adventure will spread far and wide across the land. So all can know of their great bravery.” He can’t help but think that the storyteller is alone in this ending. His mind wanders again to El. He imagines that her death was an illusion. That she made it out alive and now lives happily. He knows that it’s not true, but it feels nice to picture regardless.
That’s when Mike’s mom opens the basement door.
“Guys! What’s going on? The lasagna’s getting cold!”
“Yeah, we…we just finished. We’ll be right up.” He calls back to her. His voice wavers slightly.
Everyone starts packing up the game. One by one, they cross the room to put their respective game binders on his bookshelf. Once it’s his turn, Mike’s gaze turns to Will’s book. Something in him cracks a bit. Emotions bubble to the surface and he can’t hold back the tears. He listens as Will’s footsteps get further away.
“Will, wait!” He turns around and calls out before he can stop himself. This might be the last time he has the nerves to talk to Will like this. Will’s going to be moving to New York soon, who knows when the next time they’ll even be able to talk in person is? Will freezes at the bottom of the stairs and turns to meet Mike’s gaze.
“Yeah?” Will asks meekly.
Mike takes a shaky breath and steps closer to Will. He doesn’t know what spurs it on so suddenly, but he asks the question that’s been on his mind for years—gnawing away at his subconscious. It’s the one thing that has never felt right, something had always felt…missing.
“The painting. The one you gave me in Lenora? El never asked you to paint it, did she?” Mike’s hands tremble but he doesn’t break eye contact with Will. He needs to see every part of Will’s reaction. Needs to make sure he’s not crazy. That’s why he doesn’t miss the way Will’s jaw clenches. The way the other boy’s eyes widen, ever so marginally that he might have imagined it.
“You’re still thinking about that painting?” Will huffs out with a laugh. It’s so obviously strained that Mike almost grimaces. He doesn’t return the laugh. After a moment of hesitation—in which he realizes that Mike won’t laugh—Will replies quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “What are you talking about? Of course she did.” A lie, and they both know it. Mike wonders if the taste is ash on his tongue.
“Don’t lie to me, Will. Please.” Mike begs softly, taking a step forward. “Not about this.”
He sees the hitch in Will’s breath. The way his shoulders tense before he whispers.
“No…she didn’t.” Mike feels his stomach do a flip. He knew this already, of course, but hearing Will admit it makes it real.
“...Why did you lie?” He mutters. The room is silent. The only noise is that of Holly’s friends laughing upstairs, yet it sounds so far away. “Will-“ Mike starts, reaching out to grab Will’s wrist. Will pulls his wrist away.
“Because,” Will starts abruptly, taking a sharp breath, “I didn’t think you would accept the feelings attached to it if they didn’t come from El.” Will grabs his own elbow and softens his voice. “I didn’t think you would accept me.”
Suddenly, it feels as though the world has been reduced to this one room. No noise filters through Mike’s head as he stands there, staring at his Will. At his best friend. He swallows before responding quietly,
“What do you mean by that?”. Will’s eyes, which are now filled with tears, flick to Mike’s.
“I like you, Mike.” Will’s voice shakes. “I have since we were twelve. Maybe even longer.” Mike stares at Will in shock. Will…likes him? More than a best friend? He can barely hear Will over the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. After a few seconds of silence, Will continues quieter, “When you started acting weird in Lenora, I figured it would be less awkward for both of us if I said the painting was from El. I-..I know you don’t feel the same so I never told you the truth. I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” Mike opens his mouth to talk but no words come out. He just stands there, opening and closing his mouth. Will likes him. He seems to accept the fact that Mike won’t respond. With a small exhale, he turns to walk back upstairs.
“You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just forget this happened, okay?” His voice shakes and he gives Mike a sad smile. Mike’s breathing quickens as Will starts walking up the stairs. Away from him. For maybe the last time. No. No, no, no. He can’t let him walk away like this. He won’t.
He barely notices when his legs start moving towards the boy.
“Wait…please.” This time, Will doesn’t have time to pull away before Mike grabs his wrist. Although his grip is gentle, it’s enough to make Will stop in his tracks. Mike looks up at Will, who’s standing one step above him. “I’m…I’m sorry. I’m just processing all of this.” Will finally, slowly, turns to meet Mike’s gaze. His arm hangs limply in Mike’s grasp. Mike takes a shuddering breath, his grip on Will’s sleeve tightening involuntarily. “Please…don’t leave.”
Will can’t hold in his tears anymore. His eyes flood with water and Mike immediately pulls him into a bruising hug. Explanations can wait. He’ll wait, as long as Will is here.
Will’s hands grip at the back of Mike’s shirt as if Mike is the only thing anchoring him to the world. The boy's body trembles in Mike’s arms with quiet sobs and hiccups. It makes Mike’s chest ache even more. He feels a pang of guilt for making Will cry like this. Again, he thinks of El. He wonders if Will also feels guilt—for being in love with the boy she loved. Mike doesn’t want him to feel guilty about that, but he wouldn’t put it above him. Maybe that would explain why Will is trembling so hard.
Once Will’s sobs subside, Mike lets his head drop to the other’s shoulders.
“I don’t know how I feel, I haven’t since El…” His voice trails off. Will makes a sympathetic sort of noise. “…But I know that I care about you so much. I don’t want to live in a future without you in it.” His quiet confession hangs heavy in the air for a few seconds, like black smoke that they have to inhale before Mike continues.
“Every time someone asked what we were, I said ‘best friends’, but it always tasted like tar on my tongue.” He sniffles. When had he started crying? “I could never understand why…why ’best friends’ wasn’t enough for me. I pushed those feelings down. I convinced myself that, if I said it enough, it would feel right.” Mike’s voice shakes and cracks at random parts of the sentence. He doesn’t dare lift his head to look at Will. “It never did. And I didn’t know why until right now”
Will’s arms wrap around Mike. Steady. Comforting.
“What are you saying, Mike?” Will asks, feebly. A few seconds of silence fill the room. Mike finally lifts his head.
“I’m saying, it’s you. It always has been. I just never wanted to admit it, even to myself.” Will searches his eyes for any hint of deception, but is only met with fierce honesty. It feels as though all of the air has been sucked out of Will’s lungs, his gaze faltering.
“You’re not lying, are you?” It comes out as more of a statement than a question. Mike shakes his head with a slight, tearful laugh. Mike’s eyes flick to Will’s lips, just as they have dozens of times throughout their life, and everything starts clicking into place. The way Mike spoke to Will, softer than to anyone else. The lingering glances that Will thought he imagined. How Mike was always the first one at Will’s side, even if he was the furthest person from him. Every sign that Will had brushed off throughout the years flooded his brain at once. He lets out a shuddering breath, not knowing what to say. Those same memories invade Mike’s mind. It was subconscious, the way he acted towards Will. Now he knows why. Mike suddenly whispers, as if he can’t hold in the sentence anymore, “Can I kiss you?”
Will’s breath catches in his throat. All he can manage is a small nod. Mike carefully cups his face between his palms and just stares at Will for a second. He notices the slight pink that brushes the boy’s cheeks. He looks…beautiful. It’s almost jarring, how fiercely Mike believes in that statement. Like it’s a fact he’s known his whole life, and maybe it is. Slowly, he pulls Will’s face down until their lips connect in a gentle kiss. It’s not loud or desperate. It’s just filled with years of unspoken love. It’s soft and slow and warm and everything they didn’t know they needed. Will wraps his arms over Mike’s shoulders, pulling him closer until they’re flush against one another. Two bodies becoming one.
Will is the first to pull away, pressing his forehead against Mike’s. “I thought…I thought I imagined it all.” He mumbles, slightly breathless. They both stay like that for a few moments, sharing air, until the basement door slams open. They flinch away from each other, their shoulders still touching, as Holly and her friends run down the stairs.
“Jeezus, watch out!” Mike calls out to Holly after she knocks into him on her way down.
“Jeez, yourself! You said you’d be done an hour ago!” She calls back as she and her friends rush to the D&D table. Mike and Will glance at each other with a fond smile, watching as the kids excitedly talk over each other about the game. They walk upstairs and out of the basement, shoulders brushing, to their own friends waiting for them. The door shuts behind them with a soft click, the kids joking and giggling like they once did—a bittersweet goodbye to their childhood and a wonderful greeting to the future ahead.