Chapter Text
"So, Will… Who was that guy?" Max asks with a gentle nudge, keeping her voice down so that only Will can hear her. She doesn't need to specify who she is referring to, because Will knows. The memory of Stacey's party is still fresh in his mind.
The party has been hanging out in the Wheelers' basement for a few hours now after spending the day at the lake. Lucas snuck in a case of beer from his dad, and some of them have gone a little too crazy, unable to behave around alcohol.
Being adults now doesn't make them suddenly grown enough to handle their alcohol, getting tipsy from just two or three cans — especially Dustin and Lucas, who are currently lying on the floor, seeing who can make the nastiest fart noise with their mouths and laughing at it like it's the funniest thing in the world. Maybe it's the alcohol getting to him, but Will has to admit that it is kinda funny.
Jane is sitting next to Max, resting her head on her shoulder, already sleepy. He isn't surprised she's the quiet-drunk type. Max is the opposite — more talkative and bolder than usual. Lastly, Mike sits in an armchair, seemingly bored.
Will chuckles, his face getting warmer as he regards Max’s question.
"Oh, um. The one with brown hair?" He asks, feigning confusion. She nods. "His name is Chance — pretty sure he's on the basketball team," Will replies quietly, looking around to make sure no one else heard it.
Max hums, looking at Will with a knowing grin. She tries to say the next words in a hushed tone, but is apparently too drunk to control her volume.
"Did you guys make out?"
Obviously, the words catch the group's attention as they all look up with matching expressions of shock.
"Byers!" Lucas and Dustin simultaneously shout, both clearly proud of their friend despite the shock — which earns a shush from Max, seeing as Jane is practically asleep now.
"Did that actually happen, Will?" Mike asks after a beat of silence, straightening his posture.
Will groans into Max’s shoulder, not enjoying being put in the spotlight like this.
"Mind your own business? I wasn't talking to you guys," Max snaps at them, noticing Will's discomfort. "Sorry," she whispers to him. He shakes his head, signalling that it's okay.
"You were the one who couldn't keep it down! And we wanna know too," Mike snaps back, crossing his arms. "If Will is okay with it, of course," he adds as an afterthought, his expression softening as he looks at Will.
"No one! I didn’t make out with anyone!" He whisper-shouts, being mindful of Jane. "Seriously, he just — I mean, we just flirted, I guess? But nothing else."
"Who are we even talking about?" Lucas asks, confused.
"Chance. Keep up," Max replies for him.
"Wait, the guy from the basketball team? I didn't know he was…" Lucas trails off, looking at Will.
Will shrugs. "Yeah, me neither. But we really didn't do anything."
"That guy is a jerk, anyway," Mike comments, but no one acknowledges it. Will knows he has a point, though.
"Not even a little kiss?" Max asks with a teasing nudge, trying to fluster Will further, which works when Will is, unfortunately, forced to recall last night's events. He was definitely giving Chance all the signs that he wanted a kiss, but when the guy leaned in and finally did it, Will immediately pushed him back. He then apologised and ran off with a heavy weight in his chest.
Will looks at his friends, who all seem genuinely interested in his answer. The buzz of the alcohol gives him enough courage to open up about what happened.
"I mean… Yeah, kind of, if that even counted as a kiss," he admits with a sigh, closing his eyes as he remembers the uncomfortable sensation. "He kissed me, but I just… froze. And then I pushed him back because I didn't know what to do."
It wasn't a lie — he really does not know how to kiss. But he would’ve figured it out in the heat of the moment if he had actually wanted it, but he didn't. There was only one person in that party that he would've been happy to kiss, and it definitely wasn't Chance.
After a beat of silence, he opens his eyes, and they immediately land on Mike, who is looking at Will with a frown. He probably looks pitiful to Mike, who always kisses Jane like it's the most natural thing in the world. What kind of loser doesn’t know how to kiss at 18?
He's pulled back into the moment as Max squeezes his shoulder, her gaze uncharacteristically soft. "That’s fine. First kisses are supposed to be awkward. You’ll know what to do when the right guy kisses you." He can see everyone else nodding from his peripheral vision.
Will knows who the right guy is.
"Yeah, man. Max is right. You just need some practice, and soon enough you’ll be a kissing expert — like me," Lucas adds with a confident grin, earning a collective groan of disgust.
Will appreciates their words, but he's still worried. He wants to say, I’m not like you — my chances are limited.
What happened with Chance yesterday was a rare occasion. There isn't an abundance of gay guys in Hawkins. Much less, guys that are actually his type (tall nerds with curly hair, freckles, and a love for D&D) or into him. He's hopeful that things will be easier in college, but he doesn't want to wait another 3 months.
He doesn't argue, though. He loves his friends, but this is the type of conversation he can have with Robin and Vickie. They'll understand him.
"Thanks, guys," Will murmurs, ready to change the topic, and they thankfully do. The group chats about other interesting things that happened at the party, like how Stacey was all over Dustin, and how he still managed to fumble her, how the choice of music was terrible, and so on.
It's already midnight by the time they wrap things up. Lucas and Max offer a ride to Dustin, leaving only the siblings and Mike. Jane is still asleep, and Will doesn't have the guts to wake her up. She deserves the rest.
"It’s late. Just stay over," Mike murmurs in a soft tone. Will nods, adjusting his sister into a comfortable position on the couch and covering her with a blanket.
They quietly head up to Mike’s room. They don't have sleepovers as much anymore (if you don't count the 18 months that were technically one very long sleepover) since Will tries to avoid being alone with Mike. It hurts Will, but it's the only way to stop his feelings from consuming him.
Well, about those feelings... Saying he had a crush was the understatement of the century.
Will tried his best to trick himself into believing he was already over it — fake it till you make it, right? But it didn't work. Not at all. Not loving his best friend of thirteen years is simply impossible; it's like trying to hold your breath to death — your body just doesn't allow it.
He has tried everything: distancing himself from Mike (which has never worked, since Mike is always around), focusing very hard on Mike’s flaws (which are abundant, but never enough to diminish his affection for him), or even redirecting his feelings to other guys. Will has forced himself to look at other attractive guys from school, and yes, he can admit some of them are cute; however, his feelings for Mike run much deeper than just physical attraction.
At least he has gotten better at controlling his wishful thinking. Will was pretty obvious about his feelings back in Junior year, and Mike clearly did not reciprocate. Mike is not like him, and he's still very much dating Will's sister. They got through their challenges with the help of Will's painting and went back to being a happy couple, right? Probably.
Mike never talks to him about his relationship with Jane anymore — which makes Will relieved, but a bit curious too — so he can only guess how it's going. They stopped with the PDA as they matured, never going beyond holding hands in public, but they clearly still care about each other. Jane sometimes talks to Will about it, but never about the serious stuff.
"Hey, Will? You good?" Mike snaps him out of his thoughts with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. Will zoned out, and now they are in Mike's room. Will hates how his stomach flips in excitement, reacting to that touch like it means something other than a worried friend checking on him.
"Yeah, sorry. Just thinking," Will responds, trying to match Mike’s tone but failing as his voice trembles, sitting on the edge of the bed with a sigh. He didn't notice before, but he is exhausted. The past week was pretty busy, after all, and his head is still fuzzy from drinking and stuffing himself with junk food.
Mike sits next to Will, looking equally as tired. They share a look, both laughing at each other's condition.
"We're gonna be so hungover tomorrow," Mike murmurs, rubbing a hand over his face.
"We'll be fine. Two cans aren't that much, unless you're a lightweight," Will retorts, bumping his shoulder against Mike's.
"Dude. We're both lightweights," Mike quickly fires back, returning his friend’s gesture. They fall into giggles again, easing some of the tension in Will’s chest.
"Okay, we should get ready for bed," Mike says after a moment of silence, standing up from the bed. They take turns brushing their teeth in the bathroom — Will, using a toothbrush he left there a few months ago — and Mike offers him some comfortable clothes to change into. When they're done, Mike gets into the left side of his bed without another word, leaving enough space next to him.
Will awkwardly hovers next to the bed, scratching his neck. Mike seems to understand the confusion after a moment of silence.
"Oh! The sleeping bags are, uhh, in the basement. I can go get it if you want, but…" Mike pauses, clearing his throat. "I don’t mind sharing the bed; it’s big enough. Unless you mind it! You know what, I’ll just go get—"
"It’s fine, Mike. You’re tired. I don’t mind it," Will interrupts him with a chuckle, slipping under the covers on the right side of the bed. He stares at the ceiling, trying very hard to ignore the bundle of warmth lying next to him.
Don’t make it weird. He’s your friend.
"Right. Goodnight, Will," Mike murmurs, his voice a little strained, like he's maybe uncomfortable or embarrassed. Hopefully not the former. Maybe Mike was just being polite when he offered the bed, and Will was supposed to refuse it. His head is starting to ache from all this overthinking.
"Goodnight, Mike."
Will feels the bed shift as Mike reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp, draining the light from the room. He notices that the curtains are slightly open, and the full moon is perfectly visible from this angle. His body is tired, but his mind is too busy for sleep to come, so he decides to count how many stars are visible.
He's reaching 50 when the mattress shifts as Mike rolls around to face him.
"Hey, Will."
Goddamnit. Will has finally calmed down, but the feeling of Mike’s hot breath against his ear is enough to get his heart racing again. Does Mike not realise how close he is?
Will considers ignoring it and pretending to be asleep, but Mike can definitely see how his eyes are wide open since the full moon provides enough light.
"Yeah… what is it?" Will whispers back, finally daring to look at Mike. The other boy seems just as awake as Will. Guess they are both having trouble sleeping, despite their exhaustion.
"I was thinking about what you said…" Mike starts, and Will’s heart sinks. He’d rather talk about anything but this. "How you didn’t know what to do when that guy kissed you."
Mike pauses, hesitating.
Will nods, encouraging him to go on, despite how badly he wants to run.
"I can help you."
Pause.
"What?" Will asks dumbly, nearly losing his voice. Surely, Mike wants to help him by… giving him advice. Yeah. For sure.
"I don’t mind… helping you. To get used to it, you know? So you’ll know what to do next time a guy kisses you." Mike sounds surprisingly unaffected as he says it, like he's offering to help Will with his homework, not this.
He doesn't want to look too deeply into it, but this really doesn't seem like a thing normal friends would do. But they haven't been just normal friends in a while, right? Besides all the mixed signals Mike sends him, they have literally been to hell and back together and are closer than most people could comprehend. The same applies to the rest of their friends, but it's a bit different because he can't imagine Mike offering such a thing to Lucas, Dustin, or, God forbid, Max.
He can't do this again — looking for signals when they lead to nothing. Mike is as straight as a ruler. This is just him being a nice friend — the paladin who saves the day.
Mike seems to notice Will’s confusion and quickly reassures him, reaching out for his hand under the covers. "Don’t overthink it, Will. I just wanna help you." His voice is quiet and somewhat raspy in a way that sends shivers down his spine.
"But… what about Jane? Is she okay with this?" Will asks, even if he's a little afraid that he just messed up his only chance of ever kissing Mike. Fuck, no, he can't think like that. His sister's feelings are more important than finding out what Mike's lips feel like.
"Oh — El? Don’t worry about her. She told me she kisses Max all the time — you know, as friends — so I’m sure she’s fine with this."
Will's jaw actually drops at that information, but he rapidly recomposes himself. He'll have to ask them about it later.
"Oh."
"Yeah," Mike chuckles.
A beat of silence.
Will sits up with a shuddering breath, gathering all the courage in him to respond in a somewhat steady voice:
"Okay, sure. I guess it’s not a bad idea."
It is definitely a bad idea. A terrible one, even. For multiple reasons.
But fuck it, he's going to college soon, he doesn't want to be completely clueless, and he won't pass up on this once-in-a-lifetime chance to kiss Mike. Even if this erases two years of progress on getting over Mike, he'll do it.
Mike sits up too, looking overly energetic for someone who was on the brink of sleep a few minutes ago.
The moonlight is luminous enough that Will can see Mike’s sharp features without having to turn the light on. They sit cross-legged, facing each other, but Will refuses to actually look into Mike's eyes, afraid of finding pity or something worse. Will fidgets with the drawstring of his pants as he waits for Mike to say something, do something. Or does he have to make the first move? That wouldn’t make sense since it was Mike’s idea.
He almost jumps out of his skin when Mike’s hand cups his cheek, gently tilting his head up until their eyes lock.
"Eyes on me."
Will swallows, jerking his head in a small nod. "Sorry," he rasps, unsure of what he is apologising for.
Mike smiles, dropping his hand to the back of Will’s neck. His palm is warm.
"It’s just me, Will. No need to be nervous," Mike reassures him, yet it does the exact opposite, filling his stomach with stupid fucking butterflies.
Will stays quiet, his body language inviting despite the way he feels like a rabbit who's about to get jumped by a wolf.
"Just relax and follow my lead. Pretend I’m someone you like," Mike adds with a quirk to his lips as he leans in until Will can feel his breath on his face. "Still okay?"
Will definitely does not have to pretend. He nods anyway.
In the blink of an eye, Mike closes the gap.
It feels like going down a rollercoaster without a seatbelt.
Mike's lips gently press against his, barely using any force, as if he is uncertain about this, too. The sweetness of it is jarring. Will doesn't move, afraid of messing it up.
Then, Mike tilts his head and starts moving his lips. Will's heart nearly leaps out of his chest. He absentmindedly mirrors the action, and—
Oh.
Fuck, he gets it now. Kissing feels good. Kissing Mike feels good.
Mike leans back just enough for them to take a breath before he's leaning in again, kissing Will with more purpose now. Mike's tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, and Will parts them with a little sigh, allowing Mike's tongue to slip inside. Mike's hand tightens on the hair at his nape, just enough to send sparks down his spine. It's a little messy at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it. He always imagined that French kissing would be weird and complicated, yet it comes to him as naturally as breathing.
Will closes his eyes, letting Mike take the lead. He tastes peppermint and a trace of alcohol on Mike's tongue, and it all feels so intimate that he could cry.
Will wants to hold Mike to make sure this is real, but he restrains himself. He's scared of crossing the line, even if his rational side tells him they're already past it.
But then Mike's hands are holding his waist, gently squeezing it, and Will can't stop himself from reaching back and holding Mike's shoulders. They both inhale sharply and pull back just an inch, sharing a look. Mike's eyes are dark, his cheeks flushed red and lips glistening with saliva. Will doesn't have any time to analyse the emotion behind Mike's eyes as he's leaning in again, effectively erasing any coherent thought from Will's brain.
They kiss until Will feels lightheaded, until his bottom lip tingles from how Mike sucks and nibbles on it.
Max was right. Kissing feels natural with the right person. He wishes it were the right conditions, too. Making out with Mike as his boyfriend.
Eventually, they're forced to pull back before Will passes out from lack of air. He already misses it. He knows he'll be replaying this moment for the next two weeks.
"Mike," he breathes, trying to make sense of this. Was that kiss a little too passionate for just a lesson, or are his feelings simply bleeding through his reasoning?
Mike's expression is hard to read. His confident smile from before has been replaced by a pensive look, and his eyebrows are slightly furrowed. Did Will mess this up somehow?
"Will," he whispers back.
Wow. Very enlightening.
Mike finally chuckles, a little more breathy than usual, the sound cutting through the tense silence.
"That was… pretty good. Not bad for your first kiss," he teases, but it doesn't sound as carefree as Mike's typical teasing. Will can tell he's on the edge. He might die if he accidentally made Mike uncomfortable.
"Thanks. You weren't too bad either, I guess," he smirks, hoping Mike doesn't notice how his hands are shaking from where they're still holding his shoulders, more to keep himself grounded than anything.
Mike gasps like Will just slapped him. "Excuse me? Not too bad? I know you liked that! You were making these little noises—"
Will shoves him back, just enough to cut him off, but Mike dramatically falls back on the mattress. They both giggle, the tension between them easing just enough so Will can breathe again.
"You're so stupid," Will murmurs, climbing a little closer to properly see Mike's face, but still keeping a respectful distance.
Mike doesn't say anything, just propping himself up on his elbows to look at Will. They don't speak for a charged moment, both afraid of saying the wrong thing.
"Was that okay?" Mike asks quietly, his voice painfully tender, reminding him of when they were younger. "I really hope it helped you."
Will swallows, suddenly at a loss for words. He nods, looking down as he plays with a loose thread on his shirt. He's glad the room is dimly lit, or else Mike would see the mess that he made out of Will.
"Mhm, it did. Thanks, Mike."
Mike shows a proud grin, squeezing Will's hip. "I'm glad. Next time will be even better."
Will chokes on nothing. Next time? Are they doing this again? Or does he mean Will's next kiss with some random man? He decides not to ask for clarification. His frail heart can't handle this many emotions.
The conversation dies down as they get comfortable under the covers again. Mike lies on his side, facing Will. He doesn't know how to act after… everything. After some consideration, he mirrors Mike's position, facing him too — just because it would be rude to turn away from him, and sleeping on his back is uncomfortable. It has nothing to do with wanting to count Mike's freckles as he did with the stars until they fell asleep.
Will waits for Mike's breathing to slow down before bringing a hand to his own lips. They are still damp and warm. He licks them, chasing one last taste of Mike. His heart won't calm down, hammering in his chest like crazy.
It takes him another hour to fall asleep.