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They used to do it all the time. It was like a part of the game to them. Every night when the gang would gather to play Dungeons and Dragons, everyone would take their assigned seats, and Mike would take Will’s hand in his.
He’d expected it to be sweaty or awkward, but it just wasn’t. It was nice. He loved it, and it was part of his routine.
He knew better than to try it after the upside down. Will was extremely sensitive to people babying him or worrying about him too much, Mike included. Mrs. Byers worried enough for all of them, but Mike didn’t blame her. He’d seen the way his sister moped around sometimes, or how she woke up in the middle of the night screaming Barb’s name. He knows it’s happened to Will and he just wants to help.
But Will won’t let him. He’d learned his lesson the first time after Will had come back. They’d been playing in the basement and at first it was awkward, but they got back into the swing of things right away, especially when Nancy dropped off their pizza and two liter of coke. So Mike had reached over for Will’s hand, fingertips still greasy and Will had pulled away so hard that he shook his chair and the old card table chair had fallen to the ground.
Everyone was around Will in an instant, except Mike, who stayed in his own seat, cheeks red and chest tight with the hurt of rejection. When Will got up, with the help of Dustin and Lucas, the look he shot Mike was murderous.
“I’m going home,” he stated, eyes locked on Mike.
“Why? Do you need a band aid?” Asks El.
“No, but my elbows kinda messed up,” he lies.
“Come on man, no! Please stay,” Dustin says.
“I’m leaving,” Will snaps harshly, and the other five kids look at each other, he never acts like this.
“Well you don’t have to be a jerk!” Max says, going back to her seat and sitting down.
“Whatever. Bye.”
“How are you gonna get home?” Mike demands, “You told your mom you were spending the night!”
“Jonathan will take me.” Will says fiercely, crossing his arms over his chest.
“He’s upstairs with Nancy! It’s their date night!” And Mike knows this because she made it very clear they were not to be bothered.
“Well then tell your sister to quit macking on my brother so he can bring me the hell home!” And with that he stomps up the stairs.
The rest of the kids just stare at each other,
“What the hell was that?” Dustin asks.
“He needs a time out,” El says, taking a drink of her soda.
“He needs his ass kicked!” Says Max.
“He’s still messed up from the upside down,” Mike defends, even though he feels sick to his stomach.
“But that’s not like him,” Lucas argues.
“I know. But what can we do?”
The rest of them take their seats, but no one really feels like playing anymore. It’s only a short while later that Lucas says he’s going home. Dustin, El and Max quickly follow them, and soon Mike is left alone, with the extra food and trash, game pieces scattered.
He sighs, chest still tight, and gathers the paper cups, plates and used napkins to bring them upstairs. Their parents still aren’t home and Nancy is still on the couch in a bathrobe, presumably waiting for Jonathan to get back. (Or Steve to get off work) he’s not really sure what’s going on with that whole situation.
“Everyone rushed out early,” she says, turning to look at him.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I told Will to leave you guys alone.”
She shrugs,
“It’s fine. Mom called and said they’re going to stay in the city anyway, and Jonathan can pick up Steve from work on his way back so no big deal. Plus we were actually studying at that point anyway.”
Mike makes a gagging noise and Nancy flips him off. He laughs and she turns around so she’s kneeling on the couch, braced against the back on it, facing him,
“So what happened? Will seemed pretty pissed.”
Mike’s face drops,
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Hold the phone, what was that? What just happened? Did Will do something to you?”
“No! No of course not.”
“Well then why are you looking like that?!”
“God Nancy, you’re so nosy. Nothing.”
Mike turns away to walk to his room. He doesn’t wanna talk about it. He just wants to cry.
“I’m nosy?! We were having a conversation! God you’re such a baby!”
“And you’re a bitch!” He turns and runs upstairs.
He’ll have to apologize tomorrow. It usually takes much more for him to call her a bitch. Usually around the same time she calls him an annoying asshole, or slams the door in his face for no reason. She didn’t deserve it. She wasn’t even prying like she usually does.
He’s just. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why he’s so upset. It’s not like Will is. Eleven or something. Or Max. But Will is Will. He’s his best friend. And funny. And cute. And sweet. Will who had baked him a cake for his birthday and made Jonathan drive him over at seven am before school to give it to him. The last two years.
Will who had almost died. Will who didn’t want to hold his hand anymore, because he’d almost died. Mike didn’t know what to do. He didn’t think he was showing his feelings. But who could fault him if he wanted to hug Will all the time or see him smile, or watch him dance to his favorite song even though he truly couldn’t dance. Or hold Will’s hand, or even kiss him, maybe. (The jury was still out on that one. Kissing seemed gross. Even though everyone loved it, especially his mom and Dad. Ew! And Nancy and Jonathan (also maybe Steve?)). But the point was, he wanted to hold Will’s hand. And be around him. But Will didn’t want that. He was apparently creeped out by Mike and no longer wanted his weird, queer self around, especially not touching him.
The thought makes tears rush to his eyes and he buries his face is his pillow. This is too much. First Will almost died and this. He probably didn’t even want to be Mike’s friend anymore. And if he didn’t want to be his friend anymore then what was he going to do? And the whole rest of the group would find out and think Mike was a freak. Oh god. He sobs harder.
There’s a knock on his door a few minutes later,
“Go away!” He croaks.
Instead he hears the hinges of his door opening and he curses himself for not locking it. He hastily scrubs at his face with his sleeve and turns,
“Seriously Nancy! I’m not in the mood!”
She doesn’t say anything but he feels the pressure on the edge of the bed and she sits down and he breaks into tears again.
“Oh Mikey,” he hears her set something on his nightstand and then she wraps her arms around him, “What’s wrong honey?”
It takes him a few minutes to choke out, “Will doesn’t want to hold my hand!”
He watches a chunk of spit hit her in the chest, and she doesn’t flinch or move to wipe it off, just pulls back slightly to stare down at him,
“What do you mean?” She asks softly.
And Mike spills the whole story, as she brushes his hair away from his face and rubs his back, fingers tracing in different patterns.
“Well the first thing I want to tell you is you’re not a freak. You’re allowed to like anyone you want to like. Maybe Will was just scared because he likes you too.”
“You really think so?” He asks.
“He could. Or maybe he just didn’t want you to pity him because of the upside down. Or maybe he doesn’t like boys and he decided he doesn’t want to hold your hand. I think that’s unlikely, but it’s true. You have to remember he’s also my obligated to hold your hand.”
“I know, I know. Don’t go all psych major on me.”
“Wannabe psych major and shut up! I’m sure it’s one of the first two, but still.”
He sighs,
“You think he really likes me?”
She smiles,
“There’s only one way to find out .”
“But what if he doesn’t? That’s embarrassing.”
“You have to take a chance! You can end up in a great relationship, with someone you really like.”
Mike snorts, reaching for the pint of ice cream she had set on the nightstand. It’s rocky road, his favorite. He takes an enormous spoonful and hands it to her. She takes a more respectful size one and sucks on the spoon,
“Easy for you to say.”
“What?” She asks.
“Don’t you have two boyfriends?”
She splutters and blushes,
“Shut up. Fine. Ask Jonathan about how he asked Steve out then. He should be on his way back.”
“Ask him about Will?!”
“Not about Will goofball, just ask without mentioning him. Now give me some of that,” she makes grabby hands towards the pint and he hands it back.
That’s how Jonathan and Steve find them, forty five minutes later, an empty pint of ice cream between them. Steve intimidated him in general, so he timidly asks if he can speak to Jonathan alone, to which Nancy hops up and grabs Steve’s hand, tugging him to the door, before he can even say anything.
Jonathan is easier, and he’s honest. He tells Mike about being scared because his dad was always calling him a faggot and a queer. And that he is bisexual, which means boys and girls, which is a lot and Mike didn’t even know you could do that. And he tells Mike that he’s so happy now and that Steve and Nancy are great, and he has to stop him a few times because he’s getting gross and that is his sister but he is clearly so in love and he can hold their hands and even kiss them any time he wants. Mike thanks him eagerly, and Jonathan gives him a hug, and promises that if things don’t go as intended, they will kick the guy’s ass. He appreciates the sentiment.
He doesn’t sleep very well, but he knows he can’t do anything until morning. He feels a new found confidence when he wakes up, and ducks out of the house, careful to not wake his sister or her guests, makes sure to leave a note, and rides his bike to the Byers.
It’s still pretty early and he realizes that he hasn’t eaten breakfast, mostly because Joyce opens the door, hair frizzy and pancake batter on her cheek. Hopper and Eleven are there of course, and Will looks up from the table, shocked to see him.
“Well good morning Mike, honey, let me get you a plate.”
“Thank you so much Mrs.Byers, but I was hoping I could take to Will for a second.”
She looks between them,
“Um, of course.”
So Will slowly stands up and leads Mike to his bedroom. Mike feels weird now. Will’s just staring at him and his fingers itch to pull him in for a hug.
“I like boys.” Mike blurts out.
Will stares.
“Like like boys.”
Will just stares at him, unmoving.
“I like you.”
Will’s jaw drops a bit.
“I understand if you don’t like me but, I just wanted you to know. I wanna hold your hand because I like you. Not because I pity you or feel bad, but just because I want to. And I hope that’s okay. And I hope you like me too. But if you don’t-“
Will shakes his head and Mike cuts himself off, stomach churning.
“Of course I like you, you idiot! I just thought you felt bad or thought you had to be my friend and hold my hand because of the upside down or something. I didn’t know you actually wanted to.”
“Of course I want to!” Mike says eagerly.
Will smiles, “Really?”
“Really.”
Mike crosses the room and throws his arms around Will. Will hugs back tightly, before pulling back,
“I didn’t think this was how this was going to go.”
Mike chuckles,
“Me either.”
“I’m glad.”
“Me too.” Mike kisses Will’s cheek softly, and cheeks flaming, Will grabs Mike’s hand and leads him back out to the kitchen table.
Joyce is standing at the stove, Hopper is buttering his pancake and El is shoving an Eggo in her mouth. There’s no dramatic moment, no big reveal. Joyce turns around, spatula in hand and catches sight of their hands,
“Sweetie your plate is,” she pauses but for only a half a second, “right there. Feel free to move my plate so you can sit by Will.”
Hopper watches, before picking up the syrup and dumping it on his pancake,
“I hope your parents know where you are son, it’s my one day off and I don’t wanna have to make any phone calls.”
“Yes sir,” Mike nods, dunking his knife in the butter.
“Pass the syrup,” Eleven demands, a smile on her face.
Will reaches across his body with his free hand to grab it, before passing it to her. Shoves a bite of his own food in his mouth. Grins.
Mike stops by the store on his way home to get a thank you card. He addresses it to Steve, Nancy and Jonathan and pushes it under Nancy’s door because it’s still not open, but Jonathan’s car is still in their driveway and their parents still aren’t home.
It says: thank you to Jonathan, for all the advice, even though you’re sappy and your face gets all gooey when you talk about them. Steve thank you for being so wonderful to Jonathan that he literally cannot shut up about you. My sister too. Nancy, thank you for the advice and cuddles and the ice cream. PS: you’re not a bitch PPS: only sometimes