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You’ve never really wanted anything, his father said. Reo’s mouth is agape.
Perhaps that’s true, for his chest has never burned and ached with this much want before, with a desire so scorching he almost rips the mic from the boy’s hand right here and now to ask for his name and steal him away—him, his tall figure, and his angelic voice.
I want him, Reo decides.
That’s the man who will make his dream come true.
Or: Mikage Reo dreams of becoming the greatest Japanese singer of his generation. When he meets Nagi Seishiro, he falls for his voice — and perhaps a bit for him, too.
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“Why do you want to know?”
“Because you never told me,” Nagi murmurs, pushing his head against Reo’s palm. “I wanna know more about Reo. That’s why… I thought knowing that would be good. I wanna know all of your secrets.”
“All of my secrets?” Reo huffs, half fond and half wistful. “You’re a greedy one, aren’t you?”
“I gave Reo my everything. You can give me a few secrets, can’t you?”
Or: Nagi doesn’t understand why his prince is so secretive with him, his personal knight.
Reo wonders how many more times he’s going to have to die.
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Nagi’s arm falls back around him and his hand grazes Reo’s back—for a second, Reo thinks it’s accidental, but then Nagi’s thumb slowly moves up and down, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, and Reo is going to pass out.
He forces himself to close his eyes and to take a deep breath. It’s okay. It’s nothing. Just two slightly estranged best friends cuddling together in bed the night before Christmas because it’s cold and they’re snowed in.
Or: after the U-20 World Cup, after Side-B is over, Nagi and Reo have yet to reunite. Maybe an impromptu visit during a Christmas snowstorm will change something.
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Reo narrows his eyes at him like Nagi’s hit his head.
“You want us to practice for our show by acting in love when we’re home?”
Nagi blinks at him like his suggestion isn’t completely ridiculous. Worse, he looks like it’s perfectly normal, even exciting to some extent. Reo’s utterly confused.
“Yeah?”
Or: Nagi and Reo have been best friends for eight years, actors for five, and roommates for two. The first project they co-star in is a BL drama, which goes as well as you might expect.
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“Why didn’t you tell me?” he mutters weakly. “Why do you do something you don’t want? Are you… really stopping everything, now that we won…?”
He swallows hard. There’s a lump in his throat. There are rocks in his lungs.
“Did you hate that I kissed you…?”
Or: Japan won the World Cup, and Seishiro kissed Reo to celebrate. The dream turns into a nightmare when he learns Reo's engaged.
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“I don’t think that it has to mean that you’re into guys,” Lucas says. His words are accompanied by a casual shrug, and said in the tone of someone who has clearly already given this subject some thought. Will doesn’t know what to do with that information. Jump from a building, maybe. “I mean, we’d all get flustered if Spider-Man carried us in his arms.”
Mike points to him enthusiastically. “Thank you, Lucas.”
Dustin looks between the two of them, his eyes narrowed.
“...Would we?”
“Sure,” Mike concludes. “He’s attractive. That’s not a weird thing to think.”
Will just barely resists the urge to bang his head against the table. He feels Dustin’s eyes glued to his burning face, and sinks even further down his chair.
In which Mike tells Spider-Man that he has a crush on his best friend, and Will jumps to some very wrong conclusions.
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Bookmarked by Seedus
30 Jan 2026
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“Just saying, if you’re taking another hit, you should share it with me,” Mike says, and Will slowly tilts his head, drinking in every word. “It just makes sense. Like, mathematically.”
Will’s reddened eyes narrow, bewildered. “Mathematically?”
“If there’s two hits left, we’d each only get one,” Mike explains. “But if we shotgunned, we’d both get two.” God, this is the best idea he’s had in ages. He should’ve stolen Will’s weed, like, months ago. “That’s like, bang for your buck. This is simple math, Will Byers. Keep up.”
In which it’s well past midnight in New York, Will can’t sleep, and Mike feels like they barely know each other anymore.
So, they get a little high. Mike is very normal about all of it.
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Bookmarked by Seedus
28 Jan 2026
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Mike pushes into his hands, but Will keeps him still.
"Ask again," he says. Because he's greedy, and he wants Mike to want him.
He stares at Will's mouth. "Please."
"Again."
El is gone.
Will tries to figure out how to move on in New York, and Mike follows him. Their apartment is haunted not by ghosts, but by the two of them.
Or: Catastrophically traumatized boys cling to each other and accidentally figure out how to be close—too close—while moving through their grief.
Series
- Part 1 of Supervoid
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Bookmarked by Seedus
18 Jan 2026
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Will needs a date to his mom's wedding. Mike volunteers.
“I have an idea,” says Mike.
Ice cubes form in Will’s stomach. “How dangerous is it? Like, should I call Dustin to talk you down, or should I call Nancy to be ready to drive us to the hospital?”
“No,” says Mike, “you can’t tell anyone or it won’t work.”
“Or what won’t work?” Will asks. It’s like picking up a rock you know a spider will be under.
Mike gets up and closes Will’s door. Hopper doesn’t make them keep it open but sometimes Will does anyway, because every now and then lying around alone with Mike on his bed just makes his chest ache too much. If the door is open he can tell himself You can’t do anything right now, someone will see.
Mike leans back against the door. His eyes are lit up with that special maniacal gleam that the Wheelers get right before they do something insane, like when Nancy says, “Then we have to go kill Vecna ourselves,” or whatever. “Take me to the wedding,” says Mike.
“Yeah,” says Will slowly, “you’ll be at the wedding. Obviously.”
“As your date."
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Bookmarked by Seedus
16 Jan 2026
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Mike grabs Will’s hands and tangles them with his own, blinking up at him through his long, dark lashes. His eyes are endless. Solid black, like the night above them. So shiny that Will can see himself, tipsy and happy, in the reflection. “I want to be stuck with you,” Mike whispers, like it’s a secret. “I don’t ever want to leave.”
Will sucks in a sharp breath, squeezing his hands. “Then don’t,” he whispers back, punched-out and honest. “Stay.”
—
Senior year in Hawkins. Will and Mike figure some things out.
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Bookmarked by Seedus
13 Jan 2026