Chapter Text
Mike woke to Will's silent snores. His arm might have been numb under his best friend's body, and his shirt might have been wet from what was most possibly drool, but none distracted Will’s presence. His arms wrapped around Will’s torso, his head tucked into the nook between Mike's arm and chest, and Jesus—holy lord above Christ on a stick. Mike was most certainly enjoying the physical contact. Hesitantly, Mike shifted the arm pinned under Will's body, not wanting to wake his best friend, but he desperately needed blood circulation. Once his arm was in a better position, Mike combed his fingers through Will's hair. The two of them remained like that for a while, almost lulling Mike into a light sleep, before a loud screech came from the direction of his walkie-talkie.
"Mike, this is Dustin, over." The walkie alerted. The booming volume spooked Mike, making him jolt and disturb Will's slumber. Mike dragged Will's body upwards with him as Will continued to hold on to his friend. [friend??]
"Ugh, sorry, I didn't want to wake you," Mike muttered, annoyed. "It's just Dustin. We can just ignore it.
"You sure?" Will asked, looking up at Mike. Mike considered the option of ignoring Dustin's call. But remembering the events of last summer, he figured it was best to respond to prevent Dustin from feeling ignored.
"Mhm Hm," Mike assured Will as he fell back onto his bed, repositioning himself so they could be comfortable.
Will rested his cheek against Mike's chest, listening to his heartbeat under his sternum. "I haven't slept that well in years," Will whispered, recalling the past years of his life, haunted by night terrors and panic attacks.
"I thought I was dreaming," Mike whispered back. "I still think I might be dreaming."
"You're not dreaming," Will murmured, propping himself on his elbows. "I promise."
"You promise?" Mike inquired smugly, wiggling his eyebrows. "Can you prove it?”
"Maybe…" Will smiled, leaning towards Mike. Their lips just barely started to brush when-
"EYKE!" Mike yelped, flinching when Will bit the soft flesh of his lip. Quickly, he pulled away, bringing his hand up protectively to the abused skin.
"See? Not dreaming." Will laughed the same warm and joyful laugh that Mike had adored for 11 years.
Mike pouted like a child. "You're mean, Byers. I can't believe you’d bite me like that!"
"Awee," Will cooed in a teasing tone, "Wheeler, are you upset you didn't get a kiss?"
"Shut up," Mike mumbled, grabbing the back of Will's neck and pulling his lips towards his own. Will let their lips rest together comfortably.
They kissed like every kiss was their first, with all the care, sincerity, and passion that two sixteen-year-old boys could muster. Their bodies moved around each other frantically, pursuing the kiss for as long as possible.
Mike was aware of Will's concerns involving his romantic inexperience. Sure, he would occasionally stumble or do something silly, but Mike couldn’t care less if their teeth hit together or Will's tongue moved sloppily in his mouth. After ten years of friendship, many of which consisted of repressed feelings that Mike could barely recall the number of, he would accept any affection Will was inclined to give him, inexperienced or not.
Another loud alarming sound screeched from somewhere in Mike's room, followed by: "Jesus FUCKING Christ Mike, pick up the goddamn talkie!"
Mike harshly whipped his head around, breaking the kiss he held with Will and scrambling out from the covers of his bed. His pale, freckled skin goosed from the chill of the cool air on his overly exposed shoulders.
"God damn it," Mike grumbled before he tore apart his messy room in search of the walkie-talkie. "Why can't I just kiss my fucking boyfriend- in peace! Wait…" Mike turned to look over his shoulder at Will. His face flushed, feeling the need to address the awkward ‘What are we?’ conversation.
"Are you my boyfriend now?"
Will blushed and laughed at Mike's frazzled state.
"Michael Theodore Wheeler!" Dustin screamed through the walkie-talkie again.
"IM FUCKING COMING, DUSTIN, HOLD YOUR SHIT! We can talk about that later, Will." Finally, after hours of searching and yelling (in reality, it was a minute), Mike found his walkie-talkie and responded to what had quickly become intelligible screaming.
"Holy shit Dustin, whatever you're screaming about better be important. If Vecna isn't ruining the world right now, I don't want to hear about it."
"Wow, good morning to you, too, Mike." Dustin quipped defensively. "Ya'know, you shouldn't put that energy into the world."
"Ughh, what do you want, Dustin?” Mike grumbled and flopped back into his bed, lying by Will and wrapping his free arm over his side.
"Well, I wanted to let you know I'm heading to your house. We're gonna go to Steve's house for a pool party.” Dustin explained through the static of the talkie.
"Why are-" Mike started before being cut off by Will.
"Wait, why are you heading here first?" Will asked.
"Oh, good morning, Will. To answer your question," Dustin began, "I knew Mike probably wouldn't want to go to a pool party, but I figured he couldn't say no if I showed up. Also, Steve said I should bring snacks, and I don't have any at my place, so I'm going to raid Mike's pantry."
"Eddie's going to be there? Jinx!" Mike and Will said in unison, causing them to look at each other and giggle like they were ten again.
"Yeah," Dustin confirmed, "he's at Steve's right now. He stayed the night or something. The two of them have been quite close recently.”
Will frantically jumped out of bed, punching the air with his fists in a celebratory fashion. "Let's go, Eddie!" Will whooped before quickly shutting himself down by clasping a hand over his mouth and looking at Mike shyly.
Mike looked back at Will with a confused 'what exactly do you know' face, his eyebrows quirked up. "What was that all about?" Mike asked.
"Uhhhh…" Will responded, "I may know something that you don't."
"Oh yeah? What do you know?" Mike questioned. “Are you going to share it with the class or continue to have secrets?"
"I would love to share with you, but it's not something for me to share," Will responded, causing Mike to frown disappointedly. Will cupped his hand over Mike's cheek in a sympathetic action. "Don't worry. I have a feeling you will find out today."
Will leaned over to place a kiss on Mike's head. He didn't want to exclude Mike from the knowledge that Eddie had a lot in common with the two of them, but Will knew it wasn’t his place to share that information quite yet.
Mike grabbed Will's wrist, dragging him back to bed. "Mkay, I won't worry about it then. We should go back to sleep."
"Mike…" Will laughed. "It's almost nine. We can't go back to sleep. Dustin's probably going to be here in five minutes."
"Mmmm~ that just means we should use the time we have left alone together." Mike let go of Will's wrist, preferring to wrap his arms around Will’s waist instead.
"I never expected you to be this clingy in a relationship…" Will stated, allowing Mike to drag him back into bed.
"Really?" Mike asked. "Is it annoying?"
"Yes… but in a good way." Will assured him. "I don't know how I will ever get anything done when I could be here doing this with you."
"I dunno," Mike grumbled, "the way we've always done it? Just different. I mean, I've been clingy since we were kids. Think about it."
He did think about it, and it didn't take long for him to realize what Mike meant. When they were young, they were practically attached at the hip. Holding hands or having their arms linked felt like a necessity back then. Even when they got older, Mike never hesitated to wrap a possessive arm around Will's shoulders or secretly hold Will's hand under a table. Even the times Will doesn't want to remember (like being possessed by the mind flayer). Mike was pretty clingy, constantly comforting and holding him at night when Will would sleep, even if he was disgustingly sweaty and clammy. Mike was always pressed up next to him, no matter where they were.
"Huh, I guess you’re right. You have always been clingy and affectionate," Will agreed.
"Mhm hmm, it's probably all the love and affection my father never gave me," Mike mumbled sleepily into the crook of Will's neck.
"Pfft-" Will clasped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.
Suddenly, an eruption of noise infiltrated the house. A brief silence followed before the shrill sound of Ted yelling for Mike intercepted, "MIKE! YOUR FRIEND IS HERE FOR YOU. I'M SENDING HIM UP TO YOUR ROOM!"
"Shit, Dustin is here." Mike groaned sadly, rolling away from Will. He didn't want to move, but he knew that even if there was a chance that Dustin wouldn't say or do anything, it was better to be safe than sorry.
The door to Mike's room swung open, and Dustin's voice boomed into Will's and Mike's ears.
"Okay, guys! Let's get this clown show on the road! Wait, why are you still doing in bed?" Dustin hollered. "Guys! It's past nine already! You can't let the day waste away! Come on, up! Get your lazy asses up!"
Mike grumbled and complained as they clambered out from the bed again. Will pleasantly watched Dustin and Mike bicker incessantly about various conflicts about the sudden pool party. What snacks, people, and most importantly, why did Dustin need Mike and Will to help him set it up early?
“Why? Why do we have to help set up the party?” Mike asked Dustin. “Why couldn’t you bother Lucas or Max and El?”
“Well, Lucas is working this morning. You know, mowing lawns and doing hard labor. And I tried Max and El. Max very promptly told me to go fuck off, soooo.” Dustin leaned over to Will, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “But that's not the point. Am I not allowed to spend time with two of my best friends? You’ve been hogging Will the entire time he’s gotten back.”
Mike grumbled in response. “Sure, okay, fine.”
“Yes! Okay, now, I will go downstairs and collect the snack tax. And when I come back upstairs, you guys better be ready to leave.” Dustin declared, leaving the room.
A mischievous giggle could be heard from Mike's room as Dustin ran down the stairs.
“Well, that isn’t concerning.” Will joked.
“Yeah… it should be fine. I guess we're supposed to get ready. I assume you need to borrow some swim trunks?” Mike asked.
“Mhm, yeah.”
“Bottom drawer, on the left in the wardrobe, everything in there should be big enough for you. I'll grab a bag to put towels, sunscreen, and whatever else we need in.”
After Mike left the room and closed the door behind him, Will began rummaging through the drawer. Mike instructed him to look in. There were various black, gray, and blue swim trunks and shorts. Most of them are darker in color. It was convenient that, even though Mike and Will were no longer the exact sizes, they could still borrow and share clothes. Mike tended to live in baggy clothes that were too big for both. After some rooting around, Will grabbed a pair of brighter cyan-blue swim trunks and slipped them on.
“Uhhhh, Mike!” Will yelled to him in the other room.
“Mhm, yeah?” Mike opened the door, peeking in. “Did you find them?”
“I did, but everything is way too big.” Will turned around to look at Mike, holding the hem of his borrowed sleep shirt to show how the swim trunks fit. “How do you wear these without them falling?”
“Uhh… string…” Mike stuttered out. “There's a drawstring on the inside. But there might be a smaller pair of shorts my mom bought. They’re probably at the bottom. It's like a blue-teal and yellow color block pattern.”
“Ah, okay, thanks."
“Mhm, no problem. Lemme know if you need anything else.” Mike said, leaving Will to figure out the swimsuit situation.
Sliding the trunks on, he discovered they fit closely to his body and were more revealing than the bike shorts he often wore in the summer. Meanwhile, Mike stood on the other side of the door, back pressed against the wood. His hand shyly covered his mouth as his face flushed profusely. He knew how Will had grown up during their time apart. He could see how his best friend had filled out more of his shirts, his shoulders had broadened, and his arms and thighs were more muscle than sinew. The sight of Will in his swim trunks was something that made him feel slightly envious and insecure about his build, but for the most part, it just made him feel especially queer. (in all meanings of the word)
It took Mike several seconds to recollect his functioning brain cells before he headed downstairs to check on Dustin and the snack situation.
—
The radio played softly as Eddie finished cleaning the last of the dishes, and Steve packed up the last of the french toast, his hips swaying slightly to the rhythm of the song playing. Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle at Steve's gentle dance moves.
“Are you laughing at my dancing?” Steve asked, turning around to face Eddie, a smear of powdered sugar still resting on his cheekbone.
“Me? Laughing at your dancing?” Eddie spoke, feigning innocence. “Never. The powdered sugar on your face? Yeah, maybe.” he giggled even harder as Steve wiped the wrong side of his face, missing the white powder completely.
“Here.. do you need help, big boy?” Eddie asked what would have been a condescending tone if it were coming from anyone but him.
He gently took Steve's face into his hands as he rubbed the pad of his thumb against Steve's cheekbone, then licked the sugar off his thumb with the tip of his tongue. Steve could feel his face heat up, and he knew it was as red as a beet, but Eddie didn't say anything about it. Instead, he left his hand there for an extra second as if he expected Steve to lean his head further into it, which Steve did indeed do. Steve raised his hand to cup Eddie’s, implying he wanted to keep it there. He liked it even if his several rings were cold against Steve's skin and his hands were rough and calloused, probably from a combination of guitar playing, general hard work, and maintenance.
“Thanks,” Steve acknowledged, finally breaking the silence and darting his eyes down to look at his fuzzy slippers. He was scared of the idea that Eddie could see all his thoughts just by looking into his eyes. It felt way too intimate for two pals. [pals??]
“Any time, Stevie,” Eddie said, unsure of what part of this he was being thanked for. Still, he traced his thumb over Steve's cheek softly. All his mushy, gushy feelings were churning over in his upper stomach. It was irksome and uncomfortable. But even so, no matter how much it hurt to be close like this, he found himself doing it anyway. The two of them standing together was akin to a moth drawn to a flame. Steve's flame shined so brightly that it made sense for Eddie to fly straight into the light constantly. Eddie caught himself laughing at these cheesy thoughts he was having. Steve looked up at him with those big brown puppy dog eyes that seemed to be saved, especially for him.
“Are you laughing at me again?” Steve pouted.
“No, no, I swear,” Eddie stated unconvincingly as he giggled into his other hand.
“Awww, you are,” Steve whined slightly, stepping back from Eddie sheepishly.
“No, Stevie, I swear- I’m not laughing at you.” Eddie chased Steve's face with his hands, wanting to hold him again as Steve stepped backward. “I’m sorry, I’m just laughing at myself. I was thinking some dumb, cheesy things.”
“I don’t believe you!” Steve remarked, huffing like a child in a semi-joking tone. His arms crossed over his inflated chest. “First, you laugh at my dancing, and now you're-”
“Laughing at myself.” Eddie finished Steve's sentence, “I couldn’t laugh at you like that. You are far too bright for me to do anything but be drawn in.”
“What?” Steve said, seemingly confused.
“That's what I was thinking. I was thinking about how your this beautiful bright light, and im just some trashy moth that is recklessly drawn to your warmth… or some cheesy shit like that,” Eddie added on, trying to reduce the weirdness of his outburst.
“Oh- that, really kinda sweet… wait, Eddie, you're not trashy!”
Eddie looked at Steve with a ‘clearly you have suffered way too much head trauma, do you even know who you’re talking to right now’ kind of look. But he let it go, not wanting to start some meaningless fight with Steve. “Well, im glad you don’t think so-”
Eddie was abruptly interrupted by the shrill ring of the phone. It immediately drew the two men out of their moment. Eddie turned around and looked in the direction of the phone sitting on the end of the island. He grabbed it and answered.
“Harrington residence, guest speaking, how may I help you?” Eddie spoke as though he were a professional phone answerer. [a real profession]
“Eddie?” Dustin's familiar voice burst through the phone's speaker. “What are you doing at Steve’s?”
A bazillion different answers ran through Eddie's head before he could respond. For a moment, he was tempted to respond with ‘Oh ya know, just boning your mom,’ but he restrained himself, deciding to say plainly: “Oh, just sorta stayed the night. What? Am I not allowed to hang out with my good friend, Stevie Harrington, without kids around?”
He could practically hear the frown in Dustin's voice. Eddie was only slightly aware of Dustin's jealousy when anyone else hung out with Steve or Eddie. “Well, no, but… that doesn't matter. Is Steve there? I want to have a party at his place with everyone. That way, we don't have to go to the public pool.”
“Why can't you guys play at the quarry? That's where Wayne used to have cookouts with me in the summer.” Eddie started, brutally unaware. Steve quickly snatched the phone from Eddie before he could say anything further.
“Dustin, it's fine. You can come over here for a small little party. All I ask is that you bring your own snacks. I am not going shopping this week again,” Steve said quickly as he mouthed to Eddie he’d explain later.
“What??? Where am I supposed to get snacks!” Dustin screamed on the other side of the line. Steve winced, holding the phone away from his ear. “I don’t have money!”
“Well, we're in the same boat then, Dusty Buns, cause’ I’m broke as well, and unless you want Eddie to bring his can of beans and sauerkraut, I’d recommend you figure something else out.” Steve finished, hanging up the phone before Dustin could complain, and turned around to look at Eddie.
“What's wrong with the quarry? Aside from the broken glass, beer bottles and general sharp trash there? ” Eddie inquired.
“Ah, I guess you don’t know.” Steve sighed, leaning back on the kitchen counter. “The quarry isn't something of fond memories. Back when Will went missing…” Steve noticed how Eddie winced when he remembered the news article in the paper that week. “When his body was found, Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Jane were all there. They watched emergency specialists drag his body out of the water. Granted, we all learned the body was fake later, but at least Dustin and probably others still think about that day. Also, after Will was dragged out of the quarry, Mike and Dustin went up there and ran into Troy and a few of his friends. Troy managed to grab hold of Dustin or something and was threatening to cut him with a knife and rip out all his teeth or something. They wanted Mike to jump off the cliff and kill himself. Luckily, thanks to El, Troy had his arm broken, Mike still stands, and Dustin still has all his teeth.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie mumbled, clearly enraged and embarrassed by himself. “Troy.. isn't that the same kid who was picking on Will a few days ago? The one who pissed himself at the arcade? He almost cut up Dustin and made Mike try to kill himself?”
Steve nodded. “He is a fucked up kid. If it weren’t for Jane, Mike would be dead.”
“Yeah, I think maybe we should just go and kill him. Do the world a favor?”
“Eddie, you are not going off to kill some kid. You just got all those murder charges dropped; you can’t just commit murder after all that.”
“Yeah… I guess you're right.”
“Aren't I always, though?” Steve remarked, untying his apron and placing it back into its rightful spot. “I suppose if we're going to have a pool party, I should find you a swimsuit and some sunblock for that pasty white ass of yours.”
“Hey! My ass isn't pasty! It's very nice and plump.” he retorted, pretending to be more offended than he was.
“I said absolutely nothing about the lacking size of your ass… just the lacking color of it.” Steve smiled mischievously, winking at Eddie before walking up the stairs to his room in search of some trunks and sunblock.
Eddie let out a loud and dramatic gasp, resting his hand on his chest and throwing his head back in a flamboyant manner. “Harrington! Are you telling me you look at my ass?”
“And what if I am, Munson? Hmmm? What are you going to do about that?” Steve taunted with no hesitance. His arms calmly crossed over his chest as he stood on the first few steps of the stairs.
“Nothing, that's what it’s there for.” Eddie smirked slightly, “Honestly, I’d be more offended if you didn’t admire it.” Eddie winked at Steve before running past him and up the stairs. Steve followed closely behind him, taking advantage of his position behind Eddie to place a playful smack upon his behind. The giggly yelp Eddie released at the harsh contact also caused Steve to laugh.
Once the two older teens reached Steve's room, they started preparing for the small party. Eddie searched Steve's closet for a swimsuit, and Steve perfectly carved his hair into place with dry shampoo and hairspray. Eddie found it odd. He even protested against it, figuring it would be a waste of time, but Steve insisted. Meanwhile, Eddie used his all-in-one shampoo and left it at that. He didn’t care about the way his hair framed his face or if all the curls laid in perfect unity the way Steves did. It seemed shallow and unnecessary to spend so much time on his appearance, not to mention expensive. Granted, it was kind of cute how much fuss Steve went through.
As Eddie watched Steve intently, he dropped trou and slipped on a pair of red swim trunks and a black rash guard to protect his pale torso and arms. It took a while to find some appropriately colored swimwear Eddie could borrow from Stevie's brightly colored wardrobe. Eddie would never be caught dead in the bright pink swim thong he had found, which looked wildly inappropriate to wear to a kid's swim party. Pulling the sides of the thong, Eddie sling-shotted it at Steve, perfectly landing it on his head and ridiculously covering his face.
“Wow, I imagine that barely leaves anything to the imagination, lover boy,” Eddie remarked as he tied his hair into a shitty-looking ponytail. Steve looked at him, annoyed, before softening.
“Yeah, well, that is kind of the point, Munson. Besides, it's all the rage these days.” Eddie blushed slightly, imagining Steve in the thong and how the fabric would cup and show all the right places. However, he quickly pulled himself out of thought.
When Eddie turned away from Steve, it allowed him to see the tattoo on the back of Eddie's neck. The words ‘bite me’ in that thick metal font. Steve thought he had seen all of Eddie's tattoos, but he guessed since Ed always wore his hair down, he had never seen this one. It was like Eddie was tempting him, and it kind of worked. A small part of Steve wanted to stand behind Eddie, let his mouth gently press against his pale, sensitive neck, and bite it. See how he would react to action taken against his taunt. But of course, Steve didn’t do that. It was hella weird of him to just think about it, let alone actually do it.
‘Hey, I didn’t know you had a neck tattoo,” Steve said cautiously. “I don’t think I've seen that one before.”
Eddie brought his hand up to the back of his neck, covering the tattoo as if he could only remember it by feeling the black ink. He turned and looked at Steve almost shyly like he was embarrassed. “Ah, yeah, that's probably because it's new. I got it three weeks, maybe a month ago?”
“Oh, nice. It, uh- it looks good. Why’d you get it? Gotta secret biting kink or something, Munson?”
“Secret? Hah- pretty shit secret if you get a tattoo about it. Besides, everyone that needs to know the answer to that question already knows.” Eddie winked in a way that Steve couldn’t tell if he was just joking or not. But he tried not to think about it too much, not wanting his mind to get carried away. “Anyway, I didn’t have a reason for getting it then, but it has a few meanings now…”
“And those are?”
“Well, after the ‘bat attack,’ I considered getting my bats covered,” Eddie said, pointing to the area on his forearm where the rash guard covers his bat tattoos. “But, I've always been a sadistic bitch, and humor is my main form of coping, so I guess now it's kind of a threat? Or taunt of some kind? Daring anyone who wants to hurt me that they can't take me down… or some cheesy bull shit like that.”
Eddie grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled it in front of his mouth as he always did when flustered. Steve had started noticing those little quirks of his quite some time ago. When Eddie gets happy, he’ll sort of shake his head and hands back and forth or play air guitar. Even with the little looks or movements he does when he’s upset or angry, Steve can almost always tell what Eddie is feeling, but he can never read him the way he can with Robin, the kids, or even Nancy. Sure, he's pretty clueless, but he's not socially inept. Typically, he can sort of know what everyone is thinking, but with Eddie, it is like he's lost in the dark. It's scary but almost fun.
Without even thinking about what he was doing, Steve found himself walking toward Eddie till he could reach out and gently wrapped his hands around his neck—letting his thumbs cress the nape of Eddie's neck over the script words.
“I don’t think that it's bull shit,” Steve spoke quietly. Almost surprised, Eddie stood still and let Steve touch him like that. “Besides, I like it. It's metal.”
“Metal?” Eddie asked.
“Metal as fuck” Steve reiterated, nodding.
The two of them stood there. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. Steve could feel the erratic rhythm of Eddie's carotid artery underneath the pads of his fingers.
Suddenly, a loud slamming noise filled the silence of the Harrington house, followed by the unbearably shrill sound of Dustin Henderson's screams.
“STEVE, EDDIE, WE’RE HERE. AND WE HAVE SNACKS. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?”