ten things will byers hates about mike wheeler

by writer_sometimes

Summary:

do we need an explanation? it's ten things i hate about you, baby

~~~
el said, “max has nothing to say, so i will. lucas asked her out yesterday.”

“and you said yes, right?” will asked back.

“no. why would i say yes?” max looked away, her faux aloofness fooling none of her friends. will grabbed her hand. there was no way max was so committed to her cool and mysterious exterior that she said no to lucas sinclair asking her out.

“because you like him!” el nearly screeched. max shook her head, scoffing.

“doesn’t mean i have to say yes.”

“but you could have said no, then!” el reasoned. will froze.

“if you didn’t say no,” will ventured, “what did you say?”

max looked away while el practically glowered, “she said that she wouldn’t date anybody unless you were dating somebody.”

Notes:

1. back on my writing grind
3. i hope you like the story thanks good luck it's kind of an unedited mess

Chapter 1: i hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair

Will had three problems on Monday, October 31st. One, he did not have a costume. Normally, it was the kind of thing he’d love, but ever since coming out he’s been burnt out completely. The idea of putting together a costume like that was so exhausting to even think about, especially with midterms coming up, that he just scrapped it altogether. 

 

As he walked in, he was seriously regretting. Hawkins High took Halloween seriously, and even though a good percentage of the school wasn’t wearing anything special, he felt out of place in a weird, sticky way. Scream masks and 2000s bell bottoms blended in, making Will feel worse and worse the closer and closer he got to Spanish.

 

His second problem involved Max and El, who had been avoiding each other since Thursday night. Well, El had been avoiding Max, who had shrugged and said ‘Dude, don’t know,’ probably to make her seem less suspicious. But Will knew them too well for all that, and Max would be much more upset if her best friend ran out of a room every time she entered. But he hadn’t seen Max and El interact since Friday night. It was entirely possible they had sorted it out themselves by now.

 

His final problem was Jonathan. He was leaving for college, all the way in New York with Nancy, which meant he was finally going to be– alone. That wasn’t quite the right word. Sure, he had his mom, and Hop, and El and Max. And, as amazing as they were, they couldn’t replace the space his brother took. His brother would just be gone, only accessed on Christmas breaks and phone calls where the phone would be snatched from family member to family member.

 

On Tuesday, November 1st, he had a new problem. His name name was Mike Wheeler.

 

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s start where the story starts, and that’s with Max Mayfield jumping out from behind a locker to scare her best friend. Will jumped back, rolling his eyes once he realized the perpetrator was actually just a 5’1 redhead, “Max. Funny.” 

 

“Dude! It’s Halloween; this is the best time of the year. Do not mope.” Will was, according to Max, a moper. Worse, he was a crabby moper who didn’t know he moped. (Too many mopes.) He was upset: about lots of things, like climate change, the 2010 Oil Spill in the Gulf of Mexico, how burnt out he was, how he was terrifyingly aware that love could never be found for him in the halls or streets of Hawkins. 

 

“Third best, easily.” Will frowned and shut the door of his locker, slowly ambling to the only class only Max and him shared: English, “Come on. Valentine's Day? Christmas?” 

 

“Arbor Day?” El said from behind them, “What? Were we not naming holidays?”

 

“Our favorite holidays, El.” Max corrected, smiling smally. El’s head whipped around, as if she hadn’t realized that her best friend had been there. She scowled at her and grabbed Will’s hand, “El?” Max questioned.

 

“Will, I must talk to you.” El said, “I should’ve told you over the weekend, to be honest.” Will glanced quizzically between the two.

 

“Could it maybe wait till lunch, El? We’re already so late.” El debated the change for a moment and then nodded, “Don’t worry, whatever happened with Max and you will be fine. I’ll fix it.”

 

El glanced back and forth at the people rushing around them and then bit her lip. “I guess it can wait.” The bell rang with a ding, and Will could do nothing but let go of El’s hands and run after Max. She was clutching a skateboard in one hand, and headphones in the other, a loosely packed backpack over her shoulder.

 

“So— are you going to tell me what happened between you and El?” Will asked. 

 

“Nope.”

 

“Great.” October had already been a shit month, so who cared if it ended like this? All he could do was pray for the most amazing November ever. 

 

Max and him partnered up for the big English midterm, which Max only contributed to for Will’s sake. Just behind him and Max sat Mike Wheeler, alone in this class. He couldn’t remember anybody else’s faces in this class, but Mike was in so many of his classes that he kind of picked up on it. Plus, everyone knew Mike. He was that kid, surrounded by popularity, but quiet and mysterious. It pretty much meant every girl in the school was in love with him and his stupid wry smile.

 

It was unfortunate that Mike was exactly Will’s type, but so obliviously, unbelievably straight. Will leaned over to Max’s work, adding a little note on the side. 

 

After school, today?

 

“Class, for today, because I let you pick your English partners for the midterms, we’re doing random partners.” Max glanced over at Will before reading the message, rolling her eyes in disappointment. They both equally hated getting paired up with new kids.

 

 “If you’re in Row 1, turn around. If you’re in Row 3, turn around.” Yeah, Max wrote back and then slid it down their two desks. “Brady, can you not count? 1, 2, Row 2! Why would anyone start from the back, Brady—” Mrs. Williams trailed off as Will noticed with a pit in his stomach that he was Row 3. He swiveled his desk around, glancing at Max in the process. She was partnered up with some blonde boy who was already giving her heart eyes. She wasn’t even looking at him. She was laughing at Will.

 

Will stared back, puzzled before someone cleared their throat in front of him. Will jumped and then turned around to glare at his partner.

 

Mike was sitting in front of him, eyebrow raised. 

 

“Are we going to get to work?” He asked, “I don’t mind if we don’t. Analyzing modern versions of Romeo and Juliet in class doesn’t mean much to me.”

Will rolled his eyes, “It does to me.” Well, not really, “The A+ grade matters to me,” He corrected himself, “But I guess you can cruise through high school, right? The Wheelers will cover it all for you.” Will scowled at the ground. Everyone knew the Wheelers were an Ivy bound family. Ted Wheeler went to Harvard, and Karen Wheeler went to Columbia, though only for show. Nancy Wheeler went to Yale. Mike would probably end up in Columbia too. 

 

Mike mused it, staring up at the sky, “Huh. I guess they will. So, maybe you can do this on your own.” Will looked at him, appalled. The assignment was to read one of the modern versions out to the class and recite the meaning. He couldn’t be Romeo and Juliet, “I’m kidding, Byers. Lighten up.” But he grinned in this way that didn’t seem very mean, “I’ll do the assignment, alright?”

 

“I’m glad. It’s what’s expected of you.” 

 

“I don’t plan on needing a sticker either.”

 

“Well, shucks, what will I do with the pack I brought with me?” 

 

And then Mike Wheeler laughed. He laughed like he meant it, like they were engaged in some kind of banter right now. Will Byers, bantering with the straightest boy in school, like he was a cheerleader. He said shucks and Mike Wheeler still thought it was kinda funny.

 

“Well, let’s get to work, Byers.” Max shot him a strange glance. Will widened his eyes in retaliation. 

 

Byers? She mouthed, raising an eyebrow and then mimicked barfing. He rolled his eyes and mouthed back, shut up. It was kind of corny. He imagined Mike did this to everyone he met, keeping up the mysterious and aloof persona he had decided would define his high school career. But it still meant that he knew Will’s last name and—

 

Nope. No, Will was not going to become that terrible version of himself that happened when he liked a boy he could never have. Mike was just a boy, equal to Will, so he was not going to worship him or fall in love with him. 

 

Thankfully, Mike wasn’t in his next class, the only one of the day. Without any of his friends to keep him company, he should have been bored, but it was art. He could be a non-cliche and say his favorite class was ceramics or the lucrative charcoal painting class (a class only still kept around because of the eagerness of students to have a class with Professor Tamada, which was fair, considering he was the cutest professor they had). But his favorite class was plain art, maybe because of the freedom.

 

Today was the start of their midterm project, which was a portrait painting. A couple kids who either hated painting or hated portraits groaned in the back, but Will loved portraits. There was no better midterm. 

 

He didn’t know exactly who to paint. Obvious options would have included El or Max or Jonathan or his mom. Maybe even Hopper. But he had painted and drawn and sculpted their faces to death. He didn’t want his midterm to be a rehashing of an old painting.

 

By the fifteen minute mark of thinking, he just went for it. Grabbed a pencil and started sketching. He didn’t know where the line would exactly take him, but he let it go.

 

And then came— lunch. 

 

Will slammed his tray onto the picnic table. “Explain.” He waved a carrot stick between Max and El, “Now.”

El said, “Max has nothing to say, so I will. Lucas asked her out yesterday.” 

 

“And you said yes, right?” Will asked back. He knew the answer would be no, or Max would have been slightly more ecstatic, but Max had also secretly loved Lucas since forever. He was friends with Mike, on the basketball team and super popular, but for some reason, Max was into it. And, there was the fact that he was a major nerd. He was co captain of DnD club with Mike and Dustin, a fact that he was not shy about. Max hadn’t pined like Will and El did about their crushes, but she certainly blushed every time they saw him in the halls and she definitely smiled when Lucas looked in their direction after he scored in a game.

 

“No. Why would I say yes?” Max looked away, her faux aloofness fooling none of her friends. Will grabbed her hand. There was no way Max was so committed to her cool and mysterious exterior that she said no to Lucas Sinclair asking her out.

 

“Because you like him!” El nearly screeched. Max shook her head, scoffing.

 

“Doesn’t mean I have to say yes.”

 

“But you could have said no, then!” El reasoned. Will froze. 

 

“If you didn’t say no,” Will ventured, “What did you say?” 

 

Max looked away while El practically glowered, “She said that she wouldn’t date anybody unless you were dating somebody.”

Chapter 2: i hate the way you drive my car

Notes:

CHAPTER TWO

its ten things I hate about you babyyyy

xxx

 

Yesterday

 

Lucas Sinclair had only been in love with Max since forever. Okay, well, maybe not forever. Seventh grade, to be specific, which was a mess because Dustin liked her too. They were closer with her back then, or as close as a guy-girl friendship was in seventh grade. Then, they never saw her again. Other than in the halls, or in select classes, every now and then after a party.

 

So, you know what? He was going to shoot his shot, whether she said yes or no. Because at the end of the day, all she could say was yes or no. If she said no, he’d just have to pull up his pants and find a way to move on. No big deal—

 

“I’m not going to date anybody until Will— you know Will—” She doesn’t wait for an answer, “is dating somebody too. Otherwise, I’m single.” She leaned against her locker, her arm hooked around her best friend El’s.

 

El, from next to her, began to look concerned, “Max…” 

 

That was worse than yes. But it wasn’t a no, “That’s dumb, Max.” 

 

“Rules are dumb, Lucas, but I still have to measure the length of my tank top sleeves every morning.” She mimed putting a thumbnail to the sleeve. El rolled her eyes, tugging on her elbow. Max ignored her, glancing away from Lucas.

 

“If Will doesn’t want to date someone, then you shouldn’t have to abstain too,” He tried to reason, following her as she began to walk away, El in tow. He gave a quick look back at Dustin, who raised an eyebrow. Lucas waved him off. 

 

“I don’t have to. But I’m choosing to do it this way. And if Will doesn’t want to date anyone, well, tough luck for you. Because I’m not dating anyone either then.” Lucas sighed.

 

“But it’s not a no?” Because Lucas was a gentleman, and if she said this was all an elaborate way of saying no, then he would back off and move on.

 

But Max smiled, “No. It’s not a no."

 

And that was all Lucas had to know.

---

Dustin was too busy laughing to contribute, but Lucas believed if he was able, he would agree with Lucas’s plan. Mike did not. He set his pizza down, shaking his head, “No way. Nooo way! I am not–”

 

“But you could! Listen, Mike—”

 

Dustin interrupted Lucas before he could even finish, “Mike, Lucas has no other friends. And between you and me, you’re clearly the better option.”

 

Mike scowled and glared at him, “Why, because I’m gay?”

 

Lucas sighed, “Yes, Mike. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up falling in love with Will.” Mike rolled his eyes, folding his arms on the table. But Lucas knew Mike well enough to know he was getting to him. 

 

“I would be outing myself to everyone.” Mike scoffed. Dustin leaned back, shaking his head.

 

“Not necessarily.” Dustin responded, “Mike, Will’s been out since tenth grade. He’s not going to force you to come out if you don’t want to. And you only need to date him until the dance. Then you can let your asshole-ness show and get him to dump you.”

Lucas was desperate. He didn’t even think he’d be this desperate for some girl, but Max meant a hell of a lot more than that, “And if you don’t end up falling in love with him, I’ll pay you, like, fifty bucks.”

 

Mike rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to let you prostitute me for fifty bucks. I mean, can we talk about how crazy this girl is? Did Will even consent to all this?” Lucas scoffed “Should we even let Lucas do this to himself?” 

 

“One, not the point. I can do anything and anybody I want without your consent required, and if you actually knew Max, you’d know she is the most amazing girl at Hawkins, so consider me lucky that I even got this as an offer, Mike.” Mike dropped his head in his hands. There was no leaving his friends’ incessant badgering and there was certainly no changing their minds. He was beginning to change his mind about the whole thing, Lucas felt it in his bones.

 

---

 

Michael Wheeler was so goddamn done with his friends this time. It was completely out of his comfort zone and character to be dating some guy for his friends to get what they want. The whole thing felt icky, but he did want to help Lucas. He’d never actually talked to Will before, but he knew he was. Cute, and probably nice, which only made him feel worse.

 

God, why did he do this to himself? 

 

Maybe, in a selfish way, he wondered if he’d ever get a chance to date in high school if not like this. He wasn’t good at dating to begin with, and even if it would be fake, would he find a connection in a real way otherwise? It still pulled at his heart like a guilty angel trying to steer him away, but he really wanted to hold hands with someone, even if he knew that he didn’t like the someone.

 

Dustin waved at him as he exited onto the pavilion, where they began their walk to the gym. This was their routine— pick up Lucas from the gym after AV club for Dustin ended and Mike was done with his editorial duties of the day for the Hawkins Tribune, and begin the walk home to do homework at one of their houses, usually Mike’s, and plan out whatever DnD campaign they were on.

 

“Dude, it’s fine. You know Lucas and I don’t care that Nancy’s going to be home.” Mike rubbed his eyes, scowling.

 

“I care. She’s taken over the basement, so we’ll have to work in my room.” Dustin rolled his eyes.

 

“Oh no,” He mock clutched his heart, holding the door out into the school, “How will we make it in your perfectly fine and spacious bedroom?” Mike passed through the doors and then shoved Dustin lightly.

 

They dropped their stuff by the lockers, sliding down to a spot in front of the gym doors. Waving hello to a passing by teacher, they continued their conversation, “I mean, Nancy is such a pain, you know. Remember when she literally stole Eddie from us back in freshman year.”

“She didn’t steal him, you ass! Steve did.” 

 

“The point is: she convinced Eddie to go to college way too far, and we didn’t have a DM for months.” Mike complained, laying down on his backpack. This was a topic he often brought up, and it was always sore.

 

Dustin groaned, “Yeah, but only because you wouldn’t do it. Mike, I promise you, even Eddie would agree you’re a better DM than him now.” Mike kicked Dustin’s foot and scowled, looking the other way.

 

“Shut up, dude. That’s such a lie.” His face was bright red.

 

Lucas ran out of the gym’s door, wiping his chin of sweat with his shirt before grabbing his backpack from where it laid a couple feet over, “Lucas!” Dustin called in greeting, “Dude, I forgot to tell you guys. There is a complication with the Will plan.”

 

Lucas’s neck immediately snapped to their direction. Mike, on the other hand, hissed at Dustin, “We need a code name.”

“Plan W?” Lucas offered.

 

“Plan Mill!” Dustin screeched.

 

Mike was tastefully not participating.

 

“Whyers?” Lucas offered, “Wheelers-Byers?”

 

Dustin scoffed, side-eying his basketball playing friend, “Wires? Dude, come on. If you’re combining last names, Byler feels most obvious.”

 

“Okay!” Mike butted in, “No one is getting married, so last names don’t need to be brought up.”

 

Dustin rolled his eyes at Mike’s comment. He was so hopelessly romantic he’d probably propose to Will in a week. Unless Will was the worst human being alive, in which case, Mike might still find a way to gaslight himself into falling in love with him. Of course, Will wasn’t— if their shared chemistry class last year had taught him anything. Will had been on the verge of tears hearing about the dead frog dissection, but then cut them up like a mad scientist on a mission once they made it into his hands. Dustin had known Mike since fourth grade, so he could, with confidence, say that Mike would find that hot.

 

What was the problem again? “Whatever. The problem is that we have zero plan on how to get Will to like Mike. ”

“I can be charming!” He protested, but even saying so, he felt bad. Flirting with a boy just for his best friend to get a date. The guilty angel reprimanded him again, and Mike swallowed. He wished he didn’t care— Lucas was his best friend! Why did he care about Will’s feelings more?

 

Lucas considered it, tapping his finger on his chin, “What classes do you have together?”

 

“He sits right in front of me in English,” Mike said instinctively, “But he always works with Max for projects if we have any. We’ve never talked.”

 

“You definitely don’t have it on record though.” Dustin commented, shoving his friend. Mike shoved him back, the former nearly towering over Dustin. Lucas swatted the two away.

 

“Maybe you can stop by art club. Oh, I have the best plan. Take his lunch or his pencil or something and then— stop by art club to return it. Start a conversation— maybe you both like nerd comics!” Lucas snapped his fingers, jumping up and down with excitement.

 

“You want me to rob him?” Mike repeated incredulously, “You want me to steal his lunch? How is that romantic? You and Max are freaks, clearly.”

“Fine, Romeo. Charm him on your own, then.” The conversation drifted away from the topic of Will Byers, but Mike’s mind didn’t. His shaggy bowl cut and restless fingers played on cycle in his mind— how it would feel if Mike’s pale hand wrapped itself around Will’s, the feeling of Will’s teeth baring in a smile against Mike’s lips and—

 

Shit. 

Notes:

omg I hate this chapter BUT LOVE the next so lock in with me

cause yk mike and will are both in it ooooh - one might want to get prepared

anyway yap yap comment and kudos pls

xxxxx ly

Chapter 3: i hate it when you stare

Notes:

howdy English partner (subtle foreshadowing)

chapter 3 up in a day? is she a monster? is she a machine? no, she's hyperfixated

hope you enjoy- chapter four is where stuff gets fun!!!

Will was not good at flirting, he quickly realized, “Howdy English partner.” Will screamed internally. Howdy? Was he an idiot? Was this boy not the most mysterious, nepo baby in town— and were four girls not trying to subtly stare at him right now?

 

And the best he could come up with ‘Howdy.’ Great. At least he knew his weaknesses. Mike seemed to like it though, grinning. A pang rushed through his chest. Hadn’t he considered what Max had told him? He wasn’t an idiot. If Lucas was told that for Max to date him, Will had to date somebody, he’d probably jump through hoops of fire if it meant fulfilling that requirement. But— Mike?

 

Mike Wheeler? He was the straightest boy in town, surely. And Will didn’t judge on looks, or even personality, or popularity. Mike was attractive, yes, but he wasn’t popular. He didn’t play sports, or any of that, but everyone had just known that Mike was straight, and him choosing not to date girls didn’t mean he didn’t want to .

 

But he hadn’t dated a girl before.

 

Will knocked his head one time, trying to snap himself out of this never ending spiral. “Howdy. What is this project even on again?”

“Worksheet on Romeo and Juliet today— into prep for a debate on two random characters on Monday. With each other.” Mike nodded, eyes still locked on Will’s. If this was fake, Mike had to get into acting. Will’s cheeks burned, feeling the eye contact like lasers, “What do you want to start with?” His voice sounded too high-pitched to him.

 

No response from Mike, “Hello?”

 

Mike shook his head, “Sorry. Um, whatever’s fine. We’re on the second page, right? What’s the impact of Mercutio’s death?”

 

Will nodded. He was going to keep things casual— AKA not get charmed by Mike’s left dimple, “Yeah,” He stammered. So much for casual, “Mercutio’s death marks the end of the comedic section of the novel and turns it into a dramatic tragedy.” Mike nodded. 

 

He hesitated, then added, “Yeah, and it acts as the catalyst for the progression of the feud, banishment et cetera.” 

 

“Great.” They both wrote the answer down, and it was like all the flirty energy had deflated, turning them into awkward and barely murmuring to each other, other than the occasional check that they were getting similar answers.

 

Mike lifted his head, halfway through the third page, opening his mouth to say anything. Will did too, sure he was just going to ask about a question. Instead, he paused, his expression sharing a striking resemblance to a fish out of water. Will glanced at the clock— six minutes until next period. Art. A release from this room, which felt so filled to the brim with tension that it was suffocating him, making talking seem more like breathing in jelly.

 

“Have something to say, Wheeler?” Will prompted, and immediately wished he hadn’t. He was going to distance himself from Mike— that did not involve calling him his last name. He had only watched To All the Boys I've Ever Loved Beforewith Max and El one time, but he had also completely understood the inherent sexual tension that arrived with calling someone by their last name.

 

Mike flushed beet red, “Yeah. You like art, right? Cause you’re in art class and all?” Emergency code red bells rang in Will’s head and the El shaped angel in his mind swooned until his brain’s control center melted. How did he know he was in art class? He probably had said something to Max that he heard, or seen him in the hallways. It wasn’t that impressive, the Max shaped devil reasoned. Your standard are too low, she was saying.

 

“Yeah! Why?” Mike paused, like he hadn’t thought that far and then rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“Well, I need to get a gift to a painter friend I have—” Will furrowed his eyebrows, “and I was just overall wondering who your favorite painter is.”

 

Will raised an eyebrow, “Well, my favorite painter is Elisabeth Louis Vigee Le Brun. She does portraits, like I do, and she literally made people glow when she was alive. Way back. During the French Revolution. If you want to get a gift, though, stick to some oil pastels. Or some paints. Figure out their medium— and if you can’t, stick to a sketchbook,” Will advised. Casually. With such friendly ease. But no charm, no flirting, no pretending that Mike was listening for him, and not the words he was saying.

 

“Right. That makes sense.” Then, after a pause, he said, too fast and high pitched for Will to even catch, “Eluhvuhluhbuh.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Mike paused, clearly debating whether to commit to the gibberish he had spouted out. Will wondered if Mike’s face was perpetually red, “Elvalaba. Elisabeth Louise Vigee Le Brun. Eh-luh-vuh-luh-ba. I’m sorry— I don’t know why I said that.” The bell rang and Mike got up to leave quickly, but Will caught his arm.

 

“Elvalaba. I think I’m going to make that a thing,” Will said and Mike grinned, his teeth and dimple popping out. Will’s heart flipped inside out— the buzz of it blocking out any other rational thought, “Might be too close to Elphaba though. Like Wicked Elphaba—”

 

“Listen, Will, do you want to—” Will’s heart dropped, the buzz fading out.

 

“No. Sorry, Mike, I’m just not looking for anyone to date right now.” His voice came out jilted even to him, “I mean, I am— it’s just that— I know you don’t really like me. So whenever this phase is done, we can be friends.” He turned around and hurried to his next class. What the hell? What the actual hell was he doing?

 

Whatever. It was done— and after this project he probably would never see Mike or have to interact with him again. He could distance himself and stop calling him by his goddamn last name for that long. 

---

“Max! Max.” The girl in question turned around, smiling immediately. El had forgiven her, surely, if she was chasing her down, “Do you have the math answers? I have dance in ten minutes and I don’t think I’ll be able to finish them tonight.”

No. Obviously, Max did not have the math answers. In fact, she hadn’t realized they had homework in the class at all, “Max. Tell me you’ve done them. We have a test in two days.” Max kept still, hissing. She was trying harder at school, if only at Will and El’s requests. They had reasoned that in order to get out of this town, she’d need to find an opportunity to do so. And to do that, she either had to be ridiculously talented or hardworking enough to fake that talent. It was shaping up that Max might make it into a community college somewhere out of Indiana. 

 

“I was going to do it tonight!” Max softened. She needed El back— Will was great, but also obsessing over whether Mike’s interactions meant anything yesterday and El was her only girl friend. El was her first friend. “I’ll give it to you before first period tomorrow so you can look over it before class.”

 

El twisted her mouth to the right and then sighed, “Okay. Fine.” She turned around to leave, but Max caught her wrist.

 

“El. Wait. You can’t be mad at me forever?” But the end of the statement lilted up into a question— and she realized she wasn’t sure. To be fair, a week sounded unbearable— forever, in Max’s head.

 

“I can.” Max deflated visibly, nodding. El hesitated, “But I won’t be. I just don’t understand it. Why you’re so scared of dating Lucas and how you can play with Will’s feelings like that. How can he know that people interested in him aren’t just being set up by Lucas?”

“Lucas wouldn’t do that. If he did, that would be a whole other conver—” Max trailed off at El’s glare.

 

She sighed, “It’s the principle of it, Max. And you are still deflecting.”

Max scoffed. How could she explain it to El, who had decided she coudn’t experience love already. How could she explain that feeling of fear clouding up every decision you made, while you stared at a cliff while the bottom stayed shrouded in darkness. “Deflecting from what?”

 

“Why you won’t date Lucas!”

Max sighed, sitting down on the curb. El didn’t hesitate sitting down next to her, “I’m so scared, El. What if he hates me? Or he breaks my heart? Or worse, I break his? It’s like all these fears are choking me— and I can’t even think about actually being with him.” Max swallowed. Those were the fears easy to explain, “And I can’t even imagine going on a date and him wanting to be there.” She wrapped her hands around her body, “I can’t imagine exchanging compliments. I can’t—”

 

Her voice broke off. She squeezed her eyes shut, wind blowing red strands of hair against her eyelids until she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder, and a head press into the nook of her shoulder and head, “Max, you aren’t unlovable. Plenty of people love you already, including me. Including Lucas. You’re not going to change by being with him.” El continued, “You’ll still be our Max.”

 

And Max broke down, “God, you’re right. And I ruined things for Will because of my stupid stubbornness.” She glanced up at El. Her eyes had a glint of mischief as she smiled wide.

 

“Not necessarily.”

 

---

 

Will dipped the paint brush into the water, swirling it around. An array of colors stood before him and he still wasn’t sure what he was painting. Or, differently said, who. At last, he dipped the tendrils into the black paint, watching as it turned everything on the paper-white easel dark. He was beginning to figure out exactly who he was painting. 

 

Notes:

sneak peek to the next chapter's first line:

"See, this was what I feared." Dustin raised his hands like he was a wise old man in front of his two disciples, "Mike falling in love with the first boy that makes a good joke and holds eye contact with him for longer than a second."

(mike is me.)

GET HYPED!!

Chapter 4: i hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind

Notes:

ok this one will be a bit short

i also am unsure what time period I set this in so just take ur best guess and use some imagination

enjoy xx

"See, this was what I feared." Dustin raised his hands like he was a wise old man in front of his two disciples, "Mike falling in love with the first boy that makes a good joke and holds eye contact with him for longer than a second."

 

“I am not in love with Will,” Mike grumbled.

 

“Before this gets out of control, I urge you to use code names,” Lucas hissed, sipping his chocolate milk instinctively before spitting it out. His first mistake was buying any drink sold at their school’s cafeteria.

 

Mike shrugged. He was still clearly stung by the rejection. What did he even mean? Maybe he was right— Mike was doing this for a reason that wasn’t necessarily the purest intent, but ‘ we can be friends?’ It was like a knife through his heart and he told Dustin as much.

 

“A knife? A knife, Mike?” Dustin sighed, “You talked to the boy for, what, two English classes?” He sideyed Lucas, the two of them sharing a concerned look.

 

“Shut up. He was nice, and the first boy I’ve talked to ever. Other than you two, who obviously don’t count.” Mike folded his arms and pressed his head against the lunch table. He had become surprisingly upset over this entire situation, which, despite Dustin and Lucas’s jokes, his friends hadn’t quite expected. 

 

“What, we’re not cute enough for you, Wheeler?”

 

“He called me Wheeler. I thought I was going to die.” Dustin groaned. 

 

Lucas harrumphed, tapping Mike’s head, which was pressed against the table again, “I don’t know what your plan is, Mike, but you have to go on a date with him. I mean, at least, you might enjoy it now.” Mike snapped up at this.

 

“No way. No way! I have, one, way too much emotional investment in this now and I need to get out while I can. Plus, he was so clear. He’s not looking for a relationship specifically with me.” Mike said, the words playing in his mind on loop. He wasn’t interested. He knew that— and he wasn’t going to push.

 

“Tell me what he said exactly, Mike.” Lucas urged.

 

The taller boy hesitated, not for lack of remembering it— on the contrary, it was all he remembered from yesterday, but rather a fear of oversharing and embarrassment, “First, he said he wasn’t looking for anyone to date right now. Then he said that that’s not what he meant, he is looking for someone to date right now, but he knew that I didn’t like him and that it was just a phase. He said ‘we can be friends once you’re done with it.’” He added in air quotes. 

 

“Dude!” Dustin let his mouth drop from across the table, “He just thinks you don’t actually like him. It makes sense— no one even knows you’re gay. For all he knows, you’re just going through something.”

 

Mike let his mind hope for a moment, then shook it off. He didn’t even like Will— it was just to help Lucas, “Exactly. You need to make it clear that you do like him. You need to take him on a date.” He glanced at Dustin, “Any ideas?”

“Nope. Me and Suzie would call and watch the same movie at the same time.” Suzie was Dustin’s long-distance ex-girlfriend who he met at nerd camp, so their relationship was certainly not the blueprint here, “A picnic? Or the movies?”

“No. If someone sees us, I’m out. Literally. It’s gotta be plausible that we’re just friends—”

 

Lucas snapped his fingers, “Gorbo is throwing a huge party at his house. Bring him.” Mike winced. The idea of going to a party seemed like a bad time, but maybe the energy of lots of people together, playing games was Will’s speed? Either way, that seemed like the only type of event no one would think him and Will were going as dates for. Other than inviting Will to his house, which was way too forward— yup, the party might be his best choice.

 

“I’ll try. When is it?”

 

“Tomorrow night.” Great. Mike had his work cut out for him.

 

---

 

“Will!” Mike nearly jumped out from behind Will’s locker, who flinched in response. Mike withered back, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Will smiled.

“You’re fine,” He squeaked. He still felt really bad about rejecting Mike yesterday, even if it might have been the right thing to do. There was also a little voice who had weaseled in last night and told him that he could have played things too fast and Mike might not have even been talking about that. So, overall, this conversation had been anticipated and overthought so much that he felt relief that it was going to be over in a couple of minutes.

 

“Listen, I know you said you didn’t want to go out with me and—” Mike broke off, restarting, “It’s all good, obviously, I’d never pressure you into anything, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to Gorbo’s party tomorrow night.” Parties really weren’t Will’s things.

 

“That sounds like a date, Wheeler,” Will deflected, and then realized his mistake a moment too late. But it was worth it to watch Mike fluster.

 

He fidgeted with his backpack straps, picking at a hoodie string on the way. “No!” He blurted out, “It’s not— just a lot of people. In a house. Looking to have some fun.” Will nodded, trying to keep his laughter in.

 

He cocked an eyebrow instead, teasing him, “Why would I want to go to a party with you then? I mean, a lot of people in a house looking to have some fun isn’t exactly my scene.” Mike looked down at his shoes.

 

The taller boy rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging, “It’s not my scene either. I just figured you might want to get out of the house before it gets cold again. And— it’s not like it’s a date or anything.” He offered.

 

Will smiled fully, knowing his cheeks were red-hot with blush, “So you’ve said. I just don’t think it’s a good idea. If people see us there, friends or otherwise, they’ll get the wrong idea.” Will’s smirk was sad, placing his books in lockers. The second warning bell rang. They were right by his class, but he had no idea where Mike needed to go in the next thirty seconds. It was admittedly kind of sweet that Mike was willing to be tardy to try and convince Will of this plan.

 

“They won’t. I mean, it’s me.”

 

“ And me.” Will said emphatically, “People have been getting the wrong idea. And— I just don’t think I can.” 

 

Mike looked half-sick, each word sounding like more of a courageous leap than the last, “Oh. But Will, come on. Seriously. I want to hang out with you, as friends,” The confidence fell through, and his voice cracked, “No pressure,” He repeated, so quickly. Will wanted to— he did, but he knew this was for the bet. Whether he was a good actor or actually into him, it didn’t matter. It would bite him in the butt. He had seen She’s All That, and he wasn’t willing to be Laney Boggs today. Or ever.

 

“Mike, I just don’t want to accidentally lead you on. This is nothing.” Mike looked so disgustingly defeated Will thought about eating his words and also kissing him. However, that would be insane and he still had a year and a half of high school he needed to get through without getting picked on. 

 

Mike, for his part, took the second rejection from Will in two days, with ease, nodding and turning around. The last bell rung, indicating that they were both late. But Will didn’t particularly care today. Like he had said, the month of November had created a lot of problems, all under the general umbrella of Mike Wheeler. Classes seemed to matter less around him. 

 

Will caught Mike’s backpack before he could leave, “Mike! Wait. It’s a no now, but maybe if I thought about it a little longer and you texted me asking about it, it wouldn’t be—” He grabbed a Sharpie and scribbled down his number on Mike’s arm, pushing his sweater up and down to do so. He capped the marker before he had a moment to think about it, “it wouldn’t be so crazy to me. I might even say yes.”

 

Mike grinned, “Done and done, Byers.”

 

“As friends. And emphasis on might.” He warned, but Mike’s grin didn’t waver. 

 

8:43 PM

mike: uh hi

mike: i’m realizing i don’t really know how to text

will: Well you’ve managed to send at least two

mike: and i don’t even need a sticker!!

will: I’m so proud

will: This is Mike right?

mike: you get a lot of unknown numbers from guys Byers?

will: Wouldn’t you like to know

mike: ok ouch. have you considered coming with me to the party tomorrow

will: I have

mike: and??

will: After a lot of deliberation

will: And I mean a LOT

mike: ok again ouch

will: I have decided that

mike: ok you are not funny

will: I will tell you tomorrow ;D

mike: i hate you.

will: <3

 

Oh god. Why had he sent a heart? It was too much. Too much. Will groaned and rested his head in his hands. 

 

---

 

He had sent a heart emoji! Goddamnit, Mike was going to explode.

Notes:

okay, are you guys liking their interactions?? cause the inspo for them is not flowing the way I wanted it to.

what you can expect for chap 5?? THE iconic party from the og ttihay AND lumax content??? I'll try to cut it short cause otherwise it'll be like fifty pages. anyway....get hyped babes

Chapter 5: i hate you so much it makes me sick

Notes:

told you all it's a long one hf

word count: 2025 (i normally don't care about this, but guys ITS A SIGN. this fic is perfectly written lets talk about how i am the next Kerouac, the next Jane Austen, the next other pretentiously famous author name)

“Hey stalker,” Max offered as Lucas rounded the corner. He raised an eyebrow in return, pausing and stepping away from the basketball team. The two didn’t always talk outside of classes or happenstance meetings. Max calling him a stalker was also unprecedented. It was a nickname she coined back in seventh grade, but it had been retired for a while now. 

 

“What do you want, Max?” Lucas asked, grabbing Max’s backpack with ease before she could slide it on. She blushed, but turned down, making sure no one saw the red splotches.

 

“I don’t want anything. I know I made the situation weird.” She paused and added, “It wasn’t a rejection, you know.”

 

Lucas grinned, brown eyes twinkling, “I know. But it was a challenge,” He said, “And I cannot let the precedent for our relationship be me losing to you.” Max laughed, tossing a ginger braid over her shoulder, adorned with black wired headphones. 

 

Max didn’t know where to go. She didn’t want to rescind the statement— she did want to see Will date somebody and it would feel better to go into a relationship, knowing Will was too. But it was also inherently selfish to think that, right? And the existential cycle of whether or not she was a bad person began all over again. She glanced up at Lucas, “Yeah. But don’t break Will’s heart. I don’t know what you’re planning— I told Will what was going on. And he’d tell me if anyone was asking him out, so I’m hoping that you means you haven’t tried something. But another extension of the rules, I guess, are that if Will ends up heartbroken, I do too.”

 

Lucas hummed in response. Max tried to hurry past the fact that she admitted she’d be heartbroken if she couldn’t date Lucas. She’d made her bed and this was her lying in it. Or maybe digging it deeper. Whatever the idiom was.

 

“I get that. You’re not going to avoid me, are you?” Lucas lifted an eyebrow, tone turning teasing, “We’ll still be stalker and victim, right?”

 

“Saying that in public is a bold choice,” Max laughed, nearly a giggle, but it wasn’t quite, so her honor and dignity was not all gone.

 

Lucas scoffed, “When have you cared about what people thought about you?” The butterflies in Max’s stomach were going to make her sick.

 

“Listen, Lucas, I—” She flustered, her confidence wavering. It was a rare sight for Max Mayfield. Even if life, she had the offensive strategy— attack, attack and eventually you’ll win. But apologizing was a whole new ballgame Max knew little about. Lucas glanced at her patiently, “It’s stupid. Just— see you around, stalker.” She grabbed her backpack from him before he could protest.  

 

---

 

Mike sprayed on cologne for the first time since middle school. What was worse than the humiliating coughing fit that arised from him trying to smell his armpits like they did in movies was the fact that it was the overpowering Axe body spray of his childhood. Seventh grade was flooding back to him. He crouched down, quickly typing into his laptop. How to get rid of cologne stench fast?

 

No results came back. He fanned a circle around his body and sighed. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie, but he had never really gone to a party before. If he had, it was right at the beginning of freshman year when he could’ve gotten away with wearing a button down and slacks, for gods’ sake.

 

He sighed, clicking the ten numbers needed to dial his first friend— Lucas, “Lucas! Jeans and a crewneck.” He didn’t need to say much more and Lucas had clearly had this exact dilemma in his past.

 

“You need a t-shirt underneath. That way, you can give the crewneck to him when it gets cold.”

“Alright.” Mike responded, sliding on the white shirt he had debated replacing the crew neck with entirely and grabbing a beanie. He rushed downstairs, throwing the car keys at Nancy, “Drive me, Nance. I beg you.”

 

His older sister dodged with ease, noting his new hoodie and clearly ironed jeans, “Hot date?” She asked, spinning the keys around, “Really not cool to have your date’s older sister drive you guys there, you know.”

“Well, worse is getting caught for illegally driving.” Mike had been a stickler for this one rule— he didn’t know how to drive and until he managed to pass his drivers’ test, he was not going to jail for it, “Really not the best look. And it’s not a date. Just a friend and I going to a party?”

 

Nancy raised her eyebrow, but got up, slipping on a jacket and slides. Mike shivered as he got into the car and typed the address into his phone, “Oh yeah?” She pulled the car out of the driveway, checking all the mirrors with ease Mike dreamed about, “Who is this friend?” 

 

Mike blushed bright red, “His name is Will.” He was hoping that Will being a boy would remove all date possibilities from his sister’s head, but it didn’t seem to shake her. Having a sexuality that wasn’t straight was never discussed in his household, “He’s a friend from school.” He pointed to the right, “It’s a mile that way.”

 

“You don’t have friends from school, Mike. Not since third grade at least.” Mike scowled at his sister, folding his arms, “Fine, I’ll shut up. But if Will was more than a friend—”

 

“Which he isn’t—” 

 

“Sure. If he was, though, I’d love to meet him before I send you off to a midnight party with him.” Mike shrugged as she pulled up a couple houses over. The other perk of not driving to the house— there was no space for another car.

 

“If I was, then you would have already met him. And you would know you have nothing to worry about,” Mike offered, making sure his tone stayed aloof and sarcastic.

 

Nancy snorted, “Alright then, not-a-date. Have fun! Don’t get knocked up.” She laughed, driving away like a maniac. What the hell, Mike thought dimly.

 

Will was waiting right near the front of the house, rocking back and forth. Mike grinned, walking over to him. In a friendly way, as bros, “Hey English partner.”

 

“Wheeler,” Will acknowledged. Maybe he was turning around to this whole dating thing— the pang came back. Frankly, he couldn’t date Will right now. If they started, they’d have to break up after a week, right? If anyone found out, his dad would kill him. Everyone at school would know. The thought of that— the thought of everyone knowing the one thing so private and personal— made him shiver. So this twinkle in Will’s eye, the way his grin stretched wider at seeing Mike— of course he felt guilty. He was leading him on.

 

“You showed up.” A kid knocked into Will, barely shrugging before barreling into the crowd again. Will brushed it of, moving towards the couches.

 

“I did.” Will’s cryptic message had left a lot to be desired— I’ve decided that the odds are 65% that I’ll be there. When Mike had asked why the odds were the way they were, Will laughed and responded that it depends on whether Mike would be there or not. It seems we’ve been caught in a paradox then, Byers, because I’ll only be there if you’re there.

 

The moment diffused and they needed something to talk about. Goddammit, why hadn’t he thought of conversation starters? But the answer had been pretty obvious— he hadn’t felt he’d needed them. When he was by Will, he just wanted to keep talking. But Will spoke first, “Did you get that gift for your friend?”

 

“Huh?” Mike suddenly remembered the fake friend he had created and shook his head, “No, but I will. I will.” He said thoughtfully, “Your advice helped. I didn’t even know what oil pastels were till then.”

“You’re just saying that—” Will said, but the rest was cut out by the sudden increase in volume. A girl slammed into Mike. He grabbed her shoulders to push her away while she batted her eyelashes at the two boys. God, was everyone drunk here? The answer was yes. Mike had barely glanced past their little alcove in the corner of the party. Everyone was thrumming together like one inebriated heartbeat, dancing and stamping on each other. 

 

“Can we— uh,” Mike paused awkwardly, leaning in closer. His lips brushed Will’s ears before moving back slightly. The pink tinge covering Will, ear to ear, did not go unnoticed. Mike smiled to himself before finishing his sentence, “Could we leave? Like step outside? I can’t really breathe in here.” Will nodded. He grabbed Mike’s hand to lead him towards the deck, but Mike froze, stiff as a board in his hands. He glanced down at the hands, swallowing, then back around them. Will must have noticed because he ducked his head down and changed his grasp to Mike’s forearm. Whatever. Ignore it, Mike told himself, but he really couldn’t. 

 

One thing he didn’t forget about parties was the feeling of the first breath of fresh air outside the deck as the party dances behind you. The white noise of the crowd contained behind you, crickets chirping in the grass in front of you— and for the first time, a cute boy staring him down like they had seen in the movies. 

 

One thing ruined it though and it was the mass of people giggling as they walked to their cars or worse, throwing up in the grass. If the air was sick with drugs and addiction inside, then the air was sticky with vomit and the stench of alcohol from peoples’ bodies out here, emanating off of them. Mike placed a hand on Will’s backs, nodding towards a spot just across the street.

 

“I know a spot.” He gestured. Will shivered. Cold— it was working. His hoodie would be coming off in no time. Not like that.

 

“Said every serial killer ever.” Will shot back. 

 

Mike pouted, “Come on, would a serial killer look this cute while asking?” Will pretended to think, “It’s the elementary school’s playground. You know? The swingset that gave a kid tetanus?” Will shook his head.

 

“I moved here in the sixth grade. Did I miss anything too important?” 

 

“Other than the tetanus, no. Actually, Suzie Welps from our English class killed a spider in the third grade and told everyone she was spider-girl for a month. It was all great for her until everyone peer pressured her into showing her powers at the top of the monkey bars.” Will groaned. Mike glanced over at him, smiling, “She had a concussion so bad, she forgot it happened.” 

“No. No way!” Will grinned. Mike had the urge to kiss him, and then he shoved that urge down his throat before he could act upon it, “Did you guys tell her?”

 

“It was kinda our fault, so no. We wanted to stay her friend. Plus, it was embarrassing for her more than us, you gotta admit.” Mike shrugged, watching Will rub his hands over his arms again. They glanced sidelong left and right across the street before breaking into a jog and crossing. 

 

Mike plopped down on the swings immediately, pushing the one next to him for Will to sit in. “It’s way nicer here.” Will inhaled and Mike had to agree. He’d never take fresh air for granted again.

“Bad first date, I get it.” Mike raised his hands in surrender, watching Will for his reaction.

 

Will glared at him, “Mike.” He shivered again as Mike apologized. Mike slipped his crewneck off, pretending he wasn’t freezing and slid it over to Will. 

 

“No, it’s okay,” Will refused, but Mike dropped into Will’s lap. Probably less romantic than Lucas had envisioned, “Seriously.”

 

“Byers. Take it.” Will bit his smile as he wore the sweater, too long and tight around the shoulders. Mike nearly melted the way Will was smiling— grinning ear to ear, in Mike’s hoodie, hair tousled in the wind, lips parted so perfectly…

 

He really wished this was a date.

Notes:

realizing for the first time as we are officially one third of the way done with this fic (farther than i've ever gotten lol) that wow they don't hate each other at all

because mike and will have never and will never hate each other they simply cannot hahahahah

Chapter 6: it even makes me rhyme

Notes:

bit of a shortie but kinda a lot

tw (pretty mild): discussion of coming out, discussion of potentially homophobic family :D

They swung in silence for a while, the loud and prolonged squeaks that only twenty year old swingsets can produce making them crack up occasionally. “Mike, I need to ask you something,” Will eventually offered. He glanced over at the aforementioned boy, watching as his pale face turned towards him.

 

He looked so perfect in the moonlight, Will thought lamely. He unashamedly accepted that he was a cringy doofus, “Yeah?”

 

“I didn’t know you were out.” 

 

Mike smiled, glancing at his shoes. They both owned the same pair of basic white Chuck 70 high tops, but Will’s were drawn on until you could barely see the original color, “Not quite a question, but I’m not. Everyone thinks I’m straight, including my parents, if you haven’t noticed.”

 

Will paused. Should he push? Will, luckily, had never had to deal with homophobic parents, part of which made it so easy for him to be out some days, but he knew how hard it was. He wanted to say something, but he diverted the topic, “Have I noticed? Half the girls are on top of you all the time.”

“Hey, I remember they were the same for you back in middle school. If you weren’t out, you’d be a chick magnet,” Mike dragged the last words out sarcastically.

 

Will snorted, “Which is exactly what I want.” He hesitated, “Your parents aren’t supportive?” Mike sighed, staring at the house they were just at. The drugged up smoke had escaped some windows, making it seem as if it was on fire.

 

“The opposite. Well,” He laughed, but it was bitter. Will stopped swinging, staring only at Mike’s side profile. Look at me, “actually, the craziest shit ever just happened to me and I literally have no one to tell. Can I tell you?” Mike snaps his gaze over to Will. His tone became frantic, rushed, “Because Dustin and Lucas won’t understand. They literally will not—”

 

“Mike, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

 

He sighed, playing with his nails, scratching at them, “Nancy, my sister, was asking if this was a date. I told her you were a guy because I figured she’d have similar heteronormative ideas like my parents, but she was totally open to it. It’s like she expected it. She wasn’t mad— she made a joke!” 

 

Will grinned, tapping Mike’s shoulder, “That’s great news. You should come out to her. It feels so much better when your sister knows, trust me.” Will couldn’t help the pang that hit him as the secondary revelation hit. He had trusted Will with information not even his sister knew. Ones he had only told friends he had known since the age of seven. If this was a prank or a bet or a paid prostitution, surely, it had to have become real at some point. Right? 

 

“You have a sister?” Mike glances sidelong at Will.

 

“Step-sister, technically. She was adopted by my step-dad, Hopper. El?” He added, “But my older brother, Jonathan, also applies here, I guess.” Will shrugged, “And your parents?”

 

Mike’s smile fell as he avoided Will’s gaze, “This is turning into a therapist session.” Will blinked, crimson overtaking his cheeks in embarrassment. 

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into sharing your life story or anything like that. I just was curious, but let’s just change the topic. We can talk about my family or school—” Mike chuckled, smiling at Will. His heart literally skipped a beat, twisting inside out at his smile. His dimple was back. At this point, he needed to name it. 

 

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have been rude. I just hate thinking about my parents— to be clear, I don’t know if my parents are homophobes. My mom might not be, but I just can’t imagine my dad, the perfect Harvard man, accepting it.” Mike twisted his mouth, “Anyway, I can’t take that chance before I graduate and get out of here. I’d like to be many miles away before feeling the full weight of parents who don’t talk to me.” He said it lightly, like a joke, but Will saw right through it. He had thought about it for enough time to even come across that as an option.

 

“Mike, that’s not going to happen…” But Will’s voice held doubt because there was no way to tell him that it wouldn’t. Will felt a feeling he assumed worse than dying, staring at this sweet, gorgeous boy and being unable to quell his fear or console him in any meaningful way. 

 

“Maybe. I hope it doesn’t.” He backtracked, “I know I have enough support from Lucas and Dustin and some of my friends outside of school, like Steve and Eddie, who have their own jobs. But if it came down to it, they’re not my family, you know. I feel like a burden trying to be that to them. Which is why my sister saying it meant so much.” Will knew this was not the time to ogle, but he couldn’t help it. How could someone be so perfect? How could someone make eloquence hot? He searched for the right words to say, but Mike moved on before he could, “Tell me about your family.”

 

“Oh. Well, I told you about Jonathan, my older brother, and El, my step-sister. Hopper’s my step-dad and my mom is my mom. She’d love you.” Will added as an afterthought, which Mike immediately jumped on. 

 

“You trying to introduce me to your family, Byers?” Will stuttered, the crimson taking over his face again. He decided not to respond for his own safety.

 

“Moving on,” He gritted out, “My real dad is the real problem. He’s a douche and an asshole that hated that I wasn’t a perfect man, aka straight. He left my mom, my brother and I with enough emotional trauma that no amount of therapy could fix. So I try not to think about him.” Will shrugged, rushing past that part.

 

“Oh my god, Will. Maybe it’s fathers that are the issue. We need to devolve their power– honestly, I’ve never even been a fan of the patriarchy—” Will blurted the words out before he can stop them.

 

“I know Max said that I have to date someone for her to date Lucas, and I’m assuming he put you up to this.” Mike nearly jumped backwards on his swing, nearly falling down. Will would laugh if his heart didn’t drop at Mike’s expression.

 

Guilt. Pure guilt, “Will…” But for the first time, Mike didn’t seem to have the right words to say.

 

“Tell me it’s not true. Tell me—” Will broke off, willing himself not to cry. Don’t do it. You didn’t go out with him to prevent this from happening. For this exact reason. 

 

“Will…” He repeated, but still no explanation. Will’s heart dropped further if that was possible. He was hoping in some twisted corner of his mind that Mike would be able to explain this away and pretend it wasn’t true. Clearly, he couldn’t do that. Will got up, slowly, methodically, because any faster and the tears blurring his eyes would also make him trip and fall. He began the slow trudge down to the house, already pulling out his phone to call El or Max.

 

At the last moment, Mike called his name, “Will.” Will turned back. Stupid hope, stupid, stupid, stupid, “Are you going to homecoming?” He asked, like some last ditch effort. But it wasn’t an explanation, not even a sorry, so he couldn’t take it. Will shook his head.

 

“Not really my thing.” He turned around, so he didn’t have to watch the rejection sting Mike. 

Notes:

how was that. how was it seriously

anyway i finished chap 7 and i am obsessed with it and i fear i say this every chapter but nonetheless GET HYPED

Chapter 7: i hate the way you're always right

Notes:

my god, i thought you were someone to rely on!! me? i guess i was a shoulder to cry on!!!
a fACE ON LOVER WITH A FIRE IN HIS HEART! A MAN UNDERCOVER, BUT YOU TORE ME APART!!!!!

^ their song fr

i will say that i literally was singing that all weekend and then i was like wait, lock in. this is them omg

subconscious mind always pulls through

enjoy xxx

The weekend was a blur of emotions, of missed calls and tears. He stayed wrapped up in blankets, barely finishing his outline for English and the mountain of other homework he had. By the time he entered English class, what he was dreading since Friday night, he could tell everyone saw his situation. As if his puffy eyes and splotchy cheeks did not reveal it enough, his comfy sweater and barely combed hair certainly did. He was pathetic— he had watched people take breakups with more grace, and whatever week-long courtship he had with Mike was not something you could break up from. 

 

He dropped down into a seat next to Max, pulling out his printed outline for the discussion. The desks had been sorted into a circle. Max glanced at him, biting her lip. She had heard the bits and pieces that Will was willing to share, but she still didn’t know who it was about. As far as Will knew, Max was probably questioning Lucas as much as she could. 

 

He sighed. He didn’t see his backpack in the room, but the seat on the other side of Will was occupied by a blonde boy named Steven. Mike walked in just as the bell rang, taking the only seat available, thankfully far from Will. Mike stared at him for a beat too long, his gaze burning into Will’s hair.

 

Mrs. Williams began speaking, “Hello everyone. I hope you all are prepared for our Socratic seminar on Romeo and Juliet. I have received feedback from my last class that just letting you speak was a bad idea because you guys consider your grades more important than having a good conversation. So this time, there will be specific guiding questions. First, what is the impact of Mercutio and Benvolio’s relationship on the novel?” The class groaned, “That’s right, you guys expected the cheap questions on whether love is real. Nope, unfortunately, you have to think in this class.” She sighed and sat down, chewing on her salad. 

 

No one began until a boy named Evan took the lead, “Uh, yeah, I can begin. I think the contrast of their opinions is so important because they represent almost a devil and angel on Romeo’s shoulder.” And then he was done. Great.

 

Will jumped in, glancing down at his notes. “I would say that it’s a lot deeper than just their relationship to Romeo. Their friendship, or whatever it is, because I believe it’s a lot deeper than just companionship is an allegory for love and the love that Romeo and Juliet shares. I feel like we should really begin this conversation by talking about Mercutio and Benvolio on their own. Mercutio is openly himself, even if that is aggressive or dramatic. But no one knows what he’s really thinking, due to his choice to disguise himself with wit and humor.”

 

No one responded. Half of the kids looked bored— one kid already asleep— while others seemed like they wanted to jump in, but had no idea what to say. There was also the terrible point that Will had brought up a relationship between two men that potentially hinted at love. There was the ripple of an inside joke he was undoubtedly excluded from, like they were side-eyeing at the simple absurdity of his queerness. 

 

Will glanced over at Max, who shrugged helplessly. Her paper was barely filled in, one sentence or less for most questions. She definitely had nothing to say about what Will had brought up. He paused, glancing around the room again, purposefully ignoring Mike. Tears blinked upwards and he ducked his head downwards..

 

Mike’s low voice cut through the silence. When Will glanced up, Mike was staring only at him, eyes full of this raw, soft hurt. Will forced his gaze away. “I think it’s harder to define Mercutio than just that. He might have reasons that he hides who he truly is with this dramatic version of him. Similar to Benvolio. Despite his patient exterior, there’s a reason he stays with Mercutio even though all he does is bring trouble.” Will blinked, processing Mike’s words. 

 

Will blurted the words out before he could stop them, “Maybe he should leave. If Mercutio isn’t willing to explain himself, then their relationship is a failure. Just like Romeo and Juliet’s,” Will added with hesitation. He was forgetting himself. He needed the A+, which meant significant discussion, not just arguing with Mike over whether Benvolio should just put up with Mercutio’s shit. 

 

“I have a question,” Preeti, a girl from across the room cuts in, “How, exactly, does their toxic or not dynamic affect Romeo and Juliet? I want to return to what Evan said—”

 

Mike interrupted, “Maybe their relationship is directly meant to contrast the toxic, naive nature of Romeo and Juliet’s love. They return to each other and balance each other out— even if it is tense, it has longevity. It’s grounded. It’s good.” Will chewed his lip. He felt Max’s confused glare on him, but he was sure he wasn’t misinterpreting Mike’s words. If this was some plea to get Will to stay with Mike, it was not going to work. 

 

Will leaned forward, folding his arms. “It’s not about longevity— it’s about communication and truth. Love isn’t meant to be Mercutio doing whatever he wants and pretending like there aren’t consequences. It’s why he died.” Mike winced at that.

 

“He died because of the feud. Because of pre-existing issues he couldn’t fix.” Will nearly laughed at that. He couldn’t even say the word homophobia. What did he even know about communication?

 

“Romeo and Juliet don’t communicate,” A redhead girl, Megan, offers hesitantly. Both of their glares broke, turning towards the girl as she spoke. Her voice immediately died before returning,  “I mean, they died because they couldn’t communicate that Juliet wasn’t dying. So aren’t they toxic too?” 

 

Mike gestured his hand towards her, turning back to Will. “Thank you. It’s not about being stuck, or not being in control. Love isn’t about trying to be in control.” Will paused, unsure what to say. 

 

“We’re assuming a lot about Mercutio and Benvolio,” Mrs. Williamson finally murmured pointedly, interrupting the flow of the conversation. 

 

Will seized the interruption though. He couldn’t lose this conversation. “Exactly. We know nothing about Mercutio, or his intentions to Benvolio. And that’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? If he communicated and was honest, we wouldn’t need to have this conversation.” Max tapped Will’s desk in confusion, widening her eyes as if begging for an explanation. He shrugged and turned back around, but the newfound knowledge that the entire class’s eyes were on them made him red with embarrassment. 

 

Mike scoffed, “Honesty? They live in a time when you can’t be honest. When the feud, and who you love literally kills them.” Just say it, Mike. Why is he so afraid to say it?

 

Will shrugged, his anger bleeding out of him. He couldn’t argue— the more time he spent talking, even if that talking was yelling, with Mike was just sending him further into regression. Self-preservation was the goal, wasn’t it? Self-preservation in a high school where he already knew he would never find love, and Mike managing to get past those logical defenses was a mistake. A cautionary tale. “Exactly— love isn’t for everyone. Romeo and Juliet loved the wrong person and they died for it. Maybe Mercutio and Benvolio didn’t die for who they loved, but they died for who they were. So it’s not worth it.”

 

Mike’s gaze softened, the inner thought nearly rebounding into Will’s head. That was a personal thought, he supposed, the idea that he didn’t deserve love because of some societal norms. No matter how sweetly and kindly Mike looked at him, assuring with just his eyes that he did deserve love, Will wouldn’t fall for it again. Fool me once, Wheeler, shame on you. Fool me twice—

 

Mrs. Williamson cleared her throat, “While this conversation is truly fascinating, I fear we’re running in circles. Let’s move onto a second topic and consider using more textual evidence to support claims?” She offered gently. Max slammed a sticky note into Will’s desk. After class. Explain. 

 

He swallowed, only jumping in once or twice per topic for the rest of the class. Mike didn’t speak again. God, their debate wasn’t the only thing running in circles. He needed a break.

 

---

 

“What the hell was that?” Max grabbed his hand and dragged him to a small divot of the hallway, the crowd pushing and shoving just behind them. Will breathed out for the first time, since entering the class. Just behind Max, he watched Mike search the hall for him before scurrying away, “Mike Wheeler? When did you guys hate each other?”

 

“I don’t know. Since he—” Will paused. Did he want to do this? If he did, Max would never talk to Lucas again, and that wasn’t his end goal. He really wanted a shoulder to cry on, but he also wanted Max and Lucas to get a happy ending he never would, “—asked me out to homecoming and I said no.” He shrugged. It was true— there was just preemptive lead-up to that situation. Besides, in another world, he would’ve said yes. In that world, though, Mike never would have asked. That was the paradox, wasn’t it? Neither can exist without the other. 

 

“That asshole. He can’t take rejection?” She huffed, “Let me talk to Lucas and make sure he doesn’t bother you. Or better yet, my right hook can do the talking.” She untangled herself out of the cranny as if preparing to go into battle right now, but Will grabbed her and pulled her back. 

 

“Don’t do either of those things. I just want to put the whole thing behind me. Starting drama is not what I need right now.” Max paused, clearly not persuaded, “I was hoping we could hang out tonight— like you, me and El. Take my mind off things.”

 

Max nodded thoughtfully before breaking out into the widest grin she’d ever seen, “I have a better idea.”

Notes:

romeo and juliet PISSED me off when I read it, but I appreciate these violent delights for addressing the OBVIOUS queer tension we all felt between M and B.

did somebody say hoco chapter coming up?? and it's wild trust! i love a good hoco reunion don't get me wrong, but i fear that's not what's in the cards for this hoco chapter

stop don't do that don't think about the timeline and the fact that it's a Monday so how can hoco be Monday or Tuesday night that's crazy like why would hoco be on a random weekday and think "wow you are such a good writer and i'm going to comment on ur fic thanking you for the sustenance"

subliminal messaging oooooo (okay that sounds like a Sabrina Carpenter song)

i'm sorry i need to get it together in these end notes it's like 2 am guys i have an exam tomorrow cut me some slack i beg you

Chapter 8: i hate it when you lie

Notes:

ok this chapter is so chopped

like i've never hated putting something out as much as this but it gets the job done man. i'm tired. i'm a little behind on events, but the next chapter was meant to be short, so it'll hopefully just end up being a little longer than normal

and just as a couple notes:
- when it says yesterday, it's referring to the day of the English debate b/c hoco is the day after. like the debate was monday and hoco's Tuesday. if that makes sense.
- this chapter feels like it was both so long and so short

I don't know, hopefully you enjoy but if you don't I'm going to try and get chap 10 out today so you won't have to wait till next Monday for it to be released

“Homecoming?” Will was affronted by how little his best friend and sister knew him, “You thought this would fix my problems? What if Mike is there?” Max grinned, squinting her eyes as El dabbed blush onto her cheeks.

 

“Then you get to show off how hot you look and how he’s still a loser with no friends.” Max met his gaze in El’s LED mirror. Her room had always been better decorated and cozier than Will’s, who had been decked in just dark blue paint and yellow bedsheets since the sixth grade. 

 

“You’re in love with his best friend,” El said sagely, tapping excess highlighter off a new brush. She shrugged at Max’s glare, “Anyway, your suit’s on the bed.” She was referring to a perfectly ironed brown suit with an ivory shirt underneath, “Jonathan’s,” She answered before Will even asked.

 

He huffed. There was no getting out of this, “Fine. I’ll go change.” He had come out into a slightly too thin and long suit, but it was flattering. He did feel, as Max had said, hot. 

 

“You look gorgeous! Let me put eyeliner on you— I have the perfect brown one!” El pouted. Will snorted, dropping into the office chair by Max’s vanity stool. 

 

“And get hate crimed?” He sighed, “I’ll pass.” El rolled her eyes, but not meaningfully. There was a quiet silence, minus El dabbing mascara onto her lashes and Max playing with her hair. Will scrolled on his phone, tapping mindlessly across Instagram stories of classmates getting ready. 

 

“Will.” He tore his gaze from his screen and onto his friends. El was still staring at herself in the mirror, but Max was staring only at him, “Are you planning on telling us why Mike Wheeler suddenly asked you out?”

 

Will shrugged, “I don’t know. We talked in English a little and he knows I’m out, so he probably took a chance.” He paused, hesitating before adding, “I’m not interested in being an experiment for him.” He knew that wasn’t the truth, but it was what was most likely for Max to believe as to why he rejected Mike. I mean, he’d only blushed around the boy for the last three years. Like an unattainable crush and as soon as he became in reach, he’d turned him away?

 

“You don’t have to provide a reason. We support you over some weird emo kid any day.” Will turned beet-red, but he felt his mouth jump to defend Mike before he could stop himself.

 

“He’s not some weird emo kid!” 

Max raised an eyebrow, “Whatever you say, Byers.” But it was clear she was teasing him and that she’d leave it alone. Will let out a sigh of relief internally.

---

Yesterday

Maxine Mayfield was stubborn, unruly, particularly unmotivated, but stupid and unaware didn’t make the list. She had no idea how Will had thought she would believe that there was no correlation between the Lucas and her negotiation or whatever mess she had created and Will’s newfound romantic pursuits. Especially after they had been paired together for English.

 

She wasn’t sure if Will had found out that Mike actually had decided to pursue Will just to get Lucas to date Max or if he had just rejected Mike. But the way they were laughing together at school or talking at the party— Max severely doubted that he would reject Mike, unless he found it was all fake.

 

Her blood had been boiling from connecting those dots together to the end of the school day, which is when she marched to the gym and dropped her bag down in the center of the practice. The team groaned, glancing back at her, “Get off the court!” Some kid shouted. Lucas’ eyes widened once he noticed and he immediately ran towards her. 

 

“Max? Are you okay? What happened?” He lightly pressed his hand around Max’s wrist, pulling her into the hallway outside of the gym. She threw her bag at his chest. He caught it with ease, barely glancing away from her eyes. 

 

“What happened is that Will found out that you paid your crony to date him and now he’s upset.” She grabbed her bag and turned around, “You and I are over, Sinclair! That’s the deal.” Maybe it had worked out in a way. She had found out that Lucas Sinclair was a grade-A asshole willing to break her friend’s heart to get what he wanted.

 

“Max, wait. Wait!” He chased after her, “Listen to me, I know it looks bad. But Mike isn’t a bad person. We were trying to set them up, really. Mike— I’ve heard him talk about Will, and if you heard it too, it would erase any doubt in your mind that he isn’t already desperately in love with him after just a week.” 

 

Max paused for some stupid reason. She should just leave, forget Lucas and Mike and stick to swearing off love forever. But she didn’t. She listened, “Love isn’t born out of payments. I don’t know Mike, but he’s made Will sad once and that’s all I need.”

“Give him a chance. Listen, bring him to homecoming— I will convince Mike somehow. Once you see the way he even looks at Will? Or the way Will looks at him? You’ll understand. I saw them at the party.” Max frowned. Why hadn’t Will told her about Mike? He had told Max about every crush, even the unreciprocated ones. And the first time it was reciprocated, he hid it.

 

She exhaled, “Fine. But if I don’t see whatever love you see, Lucas—” The threat didn’t need to be verbalized. It rung true, “I was going to apologize for the dumb contract I locked you into. I made a mess and I was going to say that we should just go out anyway. But messing with my friends is too low.” She tried to remove the guilt from her voice— it was her fault, though, wasn’t it? In a sick, twisted way, she had egged this to happen. She had created the conditions for it. Maybe she didn’t mean it, but did that, alone, qualify her as a good person? 

She supposed that was what kept her from dismissing Mike entirely. Maybe he had fallen into it with good intent— like her.

 

He smiled tentatively, “Done and done, Mayfield. See you at homecoming.” She slipped her hand out of his grasp, walking away. She passed Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson on her way out, who side-eyed her as they walked. 

 

She barely noticed. She had smiled back at him. 

 

---

 

Mike was going through the worst week of his life— first, Will rejected him on his elementary school playground, then he got publicly called out during an English discussion and now, he was stuck at a dumb homecoming dance making puppy eyes at his crush.

 

“It’s a wonder people think you’re straight.” Dustin snorted, sitting next to him. He reached out some of his drink, purple and opaque in his red solo cup, “Want some? It’ll be enough you won’t remember this memory tomorrow morning.” Mike rolled his eyes.

 

He didn’t say it, but he really did not want to forget the way Will looked tonight in his brown suit and ivory button up underneath. He could’ve been next to him— their bowties could have matched, he didn’t know! He had never wanted to be a cheesy TV couple until he had met Will.

 

“Jesus, dude, you’re so pathetic. You’ve known him for a week. He’s not your soulmate.” Dustin offered, “I knew Suzie for like a year, dated her for twice that. If you told me she was my soulmate, I’d spit in your face.”

 

“Suzie was nice?” Mike barely offered, not even bothering to take his eyes off Will.

 

“She was the nicest. But not my soulmate. See what I’m getting at?” Dustin shrugged, tapping Mike. Mike shrugged.

“Yeah, dude, if you want get back together with her…you can?” Mike said, his mind elsewhere. Dustin rolled his eyes, his voice drowning out in the backdrop of Will. He muttered something about not being able to help him and strolled away from him.

 

Mike glanced away just as Will looked at him. He kept his eyes on the ground, quickly walking forward. Lucas had begged him to come, if only to get food with him later that night. The only way Mike wouldn’t take him up on that promise would be if Will decided to forgive him. He still wasn’t quite sure why Lucas needed him to come, but he didn’t have the brainpower to figure it out. Half of his mind was playing photos of Will on an eight hour loop. 

 

“You are in love with him ,” A girl’s voice shot out at him, “Mike, right?” She asked when he looked up. The girl’s hair was in a bob, straight and pinned back with two star clips. She was pretty and looked a lot like Will. He remembered numbly that Will had mentioned that his step-sister looked a lot like him for some reason. El. 

 

“El?” He asked, “Yeah, I’m Mike. I don’t know what you’re talking about…” He deflected. 

 

El folded her arms, sizing him up and down, “I’ll be a lot likelier to approve you if you’re willing to admit it.” Mike deflated nearly immediately.

 

“I like Will. A lot. He’s been so nice and kind and I think I messed the whole thing up,” Mike said, dropping his head into his hands. He longed for the drink Dustin was swaying in his hands right now.

 

El patted his shoulder, the sight strange to look at. A girl barely over 5 foot, patting a boy at least a foot taller than her, back crumpled over as he nearly cried, “It’ll be fine. He was staring at you the same way you stare at him.”

Mike glanced up at that, “Really?” 

 

El nodded, “What did you even do?”

 

He narrowed his eyes. Had Will not told them?

---

 

Will was having a miserable time. His whole head hurt, the drinks he thought was tasty punch was completely and totally spiked and all he could do was stare at Mike, in his navy blue suit longingly. He just wanted to dance with him.

 

But he couldn’t. 

 

He was grabbing a “Pizza Bite,” one of the four foods their school offered at homecoming dances when he saw out of the corner of his eye: El and Mike talking. El and Mike. His step-sister and Mike. 

 

It broke him.

He was officially broken. What could they even be talking about but him? And in that case, what about him were they discussing? 

 

And to put salt on the wound, just to the right of them, Max and Lucas were nearly feeling each other up in the thrum of students dancing to the Macarena. The Macarena! Screw it, Will thought with a huff. He was so done. 

 

He poured the largest cup of the strange, purplish punch and drank it as fast as he could. It burned his throat on the way down, but he would do whatever he needed to do to forget this night.

Notes:

how did u like it

you didn't? me neither man.

but the next chapter is genuinely a doozy. one of the events, being as vague as possible, I am glad got pushed from ch8 to ch9 bc I feel like you all needed a quick angsty break before we get to something a little more juicy

anyway have a good night gaymers we're done. bye. cut.

Chapter 9: i hate it when you make me laugh, even more when you make me cry

Notes:

ok sooooo proud of this

small callback to last chapter - @orcaenthusiast you seemed to like it the first time soooo

see y'all next Monday for chapter 10!!!!! basically at this pace I will finish writing this April 14!!!! WHAT. having a schedule is new to me y'all sorry

Will was drunk. Mike realized that nearly immediately. He had been watching him drink cupful after cupful of the strange punch Dustin had offered him earlier. Still, he hadn’t quite noticed the insobriety of his crush until Will staggered over to him and grinned.

 

“Mi-ike.” Will’s voice caught on Mike’s name, making his heart jump up to his throat, “Mike,” He giggled again, “Mike.” 

 

“Yeah, Will?” Mike asked, glancing around him. Will grabbed his elbow. Mike squeezed his eyes shut as if it would make the entire situation go away. But it didn’t. He was still there, staring up at Mike with these puppy-eyes, mouth half open.

“Come to Max’s house with me. For the after-party.” Mike shrugged and nodded, though it felt a little like he was taking advantage of Will. I mean, the boy was clearly drunk, if he was willing to come up to Mike and giggle like nothing had ever happened. And he was, at its core, pretending he wasn’t, “I’ll drive!” Will exclaimed.

 

Mike grabbed Will’s wrist, “No, you are not driving.” He glanced around to find Lucas and Max, or Dustin and El. But Lucas and Max were gone, presumably having taken Lucas’s car and if Dustin had found them, he had jumped into his car immediately. So those three were off the table.

 

When Mike had zoned back in to Will’s words, he was finishing the last sentence Mike wanted to hear then, “...and El can’t drive.” Mike closed his eyes, running a hand over his face.

 

“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do, Will. We’re gonna find El and then we’ll drive to the afterparty.” Mike said, leaning forward and turning Will around so his back was to Mike’s chest, “Where is she?”

 

Will shrugged and then began walking forward to the hallway outside of homecoming, “I saw her walk with Sophia A. ten minutes ago. Or maybe thirty. Or three.” Will grinned up at Mike, and it took nearly every bone and muscle and nerve in his body to not just lean down and kiss his lips right there, “If I’m not driving, who is?”

 

Mike huffed, unease settling in the bottom of his stomach, “Me.”

---

 

El watched Mike and Will walk through the doorway, pushing past pink and white streamers hung from the doorframe with a wary eye. Will was nearly leaning on Mike, head resting on the space between Mike’s heart and shoulder. Mike was as red as a beet comparatively, just about the same shade as Will’s red solo cup carrying who knew what.

 

She put together the situation immediately. It was, therefore, her responsibility to figure this out. She folded her arms, brushing her mascara lined lashes back, “What are you two doing?” She said, letting Will switch sides to lean on her, head dropping onto hers. 

 

Mike paused, hesitating, “Uh— I think Will is drunk.”

 

“I’m not drunk!” Will screeched, his voice cracking halfway. His eyes were nearly crossed over and his breath stank of badly mixed alcohol and Sprite, “Seriously. I just want to go to the afterparty at Max’s house, but we can’t leave you stranded.”

 

“I would appreciate that, yes, Will.” El said, swatting at him. He wrapped his arms around her. Mike watched them, eyes dark with an emotion El couldn’t read, “Well then, let’s go. Are you drunk too?” El narrowed her eyes at Mike, who raised his hands in surrender.

 

“No, sober as a—” He broke off, “I can’t think of an idiom. Anyway, I can drive us there. I have experience.” El paused, raising an eyebrow. She didn’t really care about the legality of this “experience,” but she would like it to exist. She had never had to drive when Will and Max did it so often. Anyway, she didn’t quite get the purpose of stop signs and traffic lights.

 

“Alright. Will, let’s go,” She said gently. She quickly turned away, letting Will find his way back to Mike. 

---

Mike looked pretty in this light, eyebrows furrowed as he shifted the stick in the car. He stuck his tongue out in focus, trying to keep the car reversing correctly. He murmured under his breath, and upon closer inspection, Will realized, it was small reminders to keep from crashing the entire car. 

 

Will paused, leaning his head against his window as the steady thrum of rain poured outside. El had fallen asleep behind them, and despite her presence, it felt like it was just him and Mike in the car. In his drunken state, he noticed things he hadn’t noticed before. Mike wore two rings on his right hand, a thick silver ring on his middle finder and a thin band on his ring finger. His hair fell in waves around his head, like a disheveled halo. His pale skin made his limited freckles pop, like stars adorning the night sky. In the light, there was a puckered bruise he could make out on the bottom of his chin. Will really wanted to kiss it. 

 

Mike shifted his head around to look behind them. He drove with a steady hand, but his intense focus told him that it was taking a lot of effort to do so. Will didn’t want to distract him, so he spent half of the drive watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down in his throat and the other half watching his ashy eyes, dusky brown and blacks, so deep it felt like a well he could dive into. 

 

“We’re here. Will.” Mike gently shook Will, who felt like he was waking up out of a spell. When had they arrived?

 

“You’re a good driver, Mike,” Will responded with, smiling. He understood how much Mike had hated the entire experience, but still he had done it. For him, “Thank you for coming with me.” 

 

Mike smiled so genuinely, face lighting up with every word of the compliment, Will felt like he was going to die. Or maybe that was the alcohol, “Of course.” They paused, their closeness suddenly very real to both of them. Mike was inches from Will’s face, their breaths mixing in the backdrop of the radio quietly playing ‘Lola’ by the Kinks. 

 

Girls will be boys and boys will be girls.

 

Will leaned in, blinking as Mike didn’t move. He paused, head lifted slightly, waiting for Mike to leave. Quickly, a flurry of wonderings rushed through him. Did his breath smell? Did his hair feel soft? Should he turn the radio off? Oh god, El is in the back! 

 

It's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world, except for Lola.

 

He didn’t have to wonder what to do because Mike never kissed him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the moment their lips would touch. He had spent nights wondering what that first kiss would feel like, whether it would be sloppy or chaste or perfect, and right now, it just felt— cold.

 

Well, I'm not the world's most masculine man! But I know what I am and I'm glad I'm a man.

 

He opened his eyes, which were already drooping drunkenly, sleepily. His mouth went dry, staring at Mike, all the way on the other side of the car, staring at Will like he was a strange thing that ended up in his car, “Will—”

 

And so is Lola. 

 

“You don’t have to explain,” Will said hurriedly, slurring his words together. He needed more alcohol. He was sober enough to remember this, the way his cheeks burned and the way his heart jumped, and that meant he was too sober, “I misjudged.”

 

“Will—”

 

Lola. La-lala-la. 

 

He rushed out of the car, jumping over tiles to make it into Max’s house before Mike could even get out of the car. 

---

“Have you seen Will?” Mike asked, tapping random students. Most ignored him or shrugged, turning to jump up and down to nondescript club music in Max’s house, barely big enough to fit the fifty or so people there. Max was standing on the top of the table in the living room, cheering and whooping at people downing shots while Lucas oscillated between steadying her and taking excess cups away from her.

 

He ran upstairs, which El had told him to do in the first place, but he wanted to check Will was definitely not downstairs before going. He made his way to the first bedroom, which was locked. The second door was closed, labelled Max’s Room (GET OUT!). He tapped it gently, and it swung open. 

Faint music played from a speaker, and Will sat, facing away from the door, dipping a paintbrush into a cup of water. Mike watched him for a moment, chest heaving. He looked serene, dabbing at a painting. He didn’t know quite what it was from this angle, but it was a person. Will dabbed a dark black near the top of the painting, perhaps hair. 

 

“Will.”

 

Will swung around, nearly knocking over the water cup and easel. Mike ducked forward, but it teetered before returning to its original spot, “Mike, just leave. Too much rejection in a week and I think I don’t have any more tears to cry.”

 

Mike squeezed his eyes shut, trying to pretend like he didn’t feel a knife twist inside his soul, frankly. Will crying? Over him? “Will, shit.” He ran a hand through his hair, “Please don’t cry over me. I will leave your life. If that’s what you want.” He hesitated, regretting the words. He really did not want to leave Will’s life, “But I want you to know that you’re drunk. I’m not going to have our first kiss be when you can’t think straight.”

 

Will stood up straight, lip quivering. “I am thinking straight, Wheeler. I want you to kiss me.” He said, his head dropping low.

 

Mike shook his head, holding Will close, but not close enough, “Will, I won’t. Please. Please just go to sleep. For me. And we’ll think about this tomorrow.” His head still hung, somewhere between desperation and shame. Mike pressed Will a little closer to him, a hug that felt too formal. But even a hug when Will was drunk felt wrong. Not when they had never been this affectionate before. Not when Will, as far as Mike knew, hated him in that moment.

 

Mike gently dropped him into the bed, Max’s, if the words on the door were anything to go by. Will immediately balled up, his suit, folding over itself. Mike gently flipped Will up, helping him shrug off his blazer. Leaning in as they began to pull it back, he whispered into Will’s ear, tickling the hairs that ended just above his lobe, “I didn’t kiss you, but I really, really wanted to, Byers.” Will glanced up with some shock, but if his redshot pupils and drooping eyelids were anything to go by, sleep was overpowering any curiosity he had. 

 

He tucked Will in, pressing the blankets over his body and folding his blazer next to him. In a moment of weakness, he kissed Will’s temples, pressing his lips to the warm skin just above above his brow. He looked peaceful, his tense muscles relaxing and his drunk face slackening. His eyelashes extended to his cheek, which were dusted with a light blush from the alcohol. 

Mike opened the bathroom door, throwing out the dirty paint water before Will woke up and drunk it in a drowsy haze. Searching the bathroom, he found bottled water under the sink. He grabbed one and a Sharpie at Will’s painting station, writing his name on it, before placing it on the nightstand. 

 

The easel stood in just a corner of Max’s room. In the other corner, there was a guitar, eerily similar to Mike’s. Her desk was a mess, and he doubted she ever got work done there. He tried to imagine it, El, Max and Will here on a late Friday afternoon. Max plucking at her guitar, El laying on the bed, Will sitting at the easel, paintbrush in hand, creating something beautiful in the evening golden hour. Mike would sell his left kidney to see him there, the light hitting his hair as he focused on something as trivial as a freckle.

 

He glanced back at the easel, staring at the painting. From afar, it was hard to see the pencil lines of the painting, so all he could make out was the blob of black at the top of the painting. He leaned in closer to see the gentle graphite lines on the canvas. A sharp jut out created a Grecian nose, something Mike had been insecure about since he was seven, and thin lips formed a jarring smile. Upon inspection, Mike realized, with a stutter of his heart, that Will was painting him.

Notes:

DID YOU LIKE IT. everyone say thank you for the food!!

byler back on the fluff grind.

checked my notes; will it last long???? WAIT AND SEEEEE

Chapter 10: i hate it when you're not around, and the fact you didn't call

Notes:

ok a bit smaller but it's a necessary in between chapter

ch 10 on the 10th!!!!

daylight savings and school kicking my freakin butt!

oh and uh I wrote this chapter and I was like shit it's really short. so I added the next chapter which was also really short!!! so I think when I made my outline, I was dragging it out a lil bit by the end, so right now, it's predicted to be 14 chapters.

will: I am so sorry that even happened. 

will: Let’s just pretend the last two weeks never happened, okay? 

 

Mike winced. Punctuation? Did Will hate him suddenly? Even he, a serial non-texted, knew this was not a good sign.

 

mike: will u don’t have to be sorry

mike: i’m sorry, i wanted to kiss you but it wasn’t right when you were drunk

 

Mike frowned. Did Will really want to put it all in the past? When he wanted to kiss him just last night? He was drunk, but did that mean he was lying?

 

will: And I’m glad you didn’t

will: Srsly

 

Progress!

 

will: So goodbye

mike: why do we have to contact??

will: Well what are we meant to do from here

mike: go on a date hopefully?

will: Mike

will: I wish but I don’t think it’s going to work out that way

mike: why not

mike: why are you so scared to be close to someone

 

Mike cringed as he hit send. He didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but he couldn’t believe he’d blown it this bad. He stared at the message with some shock— go on a date. With a boy. He had said it so casually.

 

will: Wow okay. 

will: If you need a reason, I would consider the fact that you took a bribe to ask me out

will: And if I’m being honest, Mike, I would like for my boyfriend to hold my hand when we go to the movie theater

 

Mike gripped his phone tighter, reading the messages again. Punctuation was halfway back and jeez, Will was not holding back. Mike glanced down, tears pricking his eyes before he could blink them back. He tried to imagine himself holding Will’s hand—- so close, yet out of reach. It would feel perfect, the weight of Will’s hand in Mike’s, but followed with that stupid guilt that had followed him around for sixteen years. He wiped his eyes before any tears could fall. Why was he crying? He did take a bribe— or at least, let it push him into talking to Will.

 

He did have an ulterior motive— and no one but Mike could truly confirm that it left the moment he saw Will smile. This was all his fault.

 

mike: ur right

mike: bye will

 

Mike switched his phone off before Will could respond— if Will even would. 

 

---

 

Max had gone home in Lucas’s car. Shit. She had also seen pretty clearly that Mike was in fact, assuredly, obsessed with Will. If not for the way he looked at Will, for the way he drove drunk Will home. If not for that, the way he searched the entire house for him. If not for that, for the way he tucked him into his bed and got him a water bottle before leaving. He even took off Will’s jacket for him. And if not for that….then for—

 

“Yep. Mike Wheeler is totally in love with Will.” El raised an eyebrow at the boy in question, sipping her water. Will hadn’t made it in, maybe due to how he was hungover out of his mind, “I saw him yesterday. And what is crazier? Will is totally in love with Mike.” Max sipped her Celsius with less conviction. She had managed to make it to this conclusion yesterday, but it did leave a couple things unanswered.

 

“Why didn’t he go to hoco with him then?” Max asked. Max knew exactly why, but she was really trying to figure out whether El had figured it out yet. 

 

El shrugged, beginning to stand up, “That’s beyond my paygrade. You’re the one in love with a man— you have way more expertise in this matter.” She took her water bottle and bag with her, and Max watched with a dumb look why she was leaving. The reason quickly sat down after El.

 

“Lucas.”

 

“Max,” He smiled shyly, fidgeting with his fingers. She grabbed one of his hands, interlacing their fingers, “Last night was fun.”

 

“I agree.”

 

“I wish we could do it again.” He said, smiling up at her like it really was possible.

 

Max snorted, “You’ll have to wait till next year then, bud.” Max said, patting him on the back with her free hand. 

 

Lucas blushed beet red, ducking his head down, “I meant hang out.” Then with some confidence regained, “We should hang out soon. Movies?” He paused, relaxing against the table, “The new Spider-Man movie?” She grinned. She loved the Spider-Man movies, and she knew he hadn’t proposed this as a random idea.

 

“I would love to, stalker.” And then the moment just felt right, and she couldn’t let it go— she couldn’t waste the pain that Will had gone through, so she kissed him. Chaste and gentle because they were in the center of the school courtyard, but a kiss nonetheless, “Bye.” She spun around and left, running over to where El had been waiting for her. 

 

When she glanced back, Lucas was still staring at her.

 

---

 

Mike was totally avoiding Will. Will, on the other hand, was trying to seek him out. He was tired of the cat and mouse game of apologies, but he wanted to let Mike know that he didn’t necessarily believe Mike had been fake for the entire relationship. In fact, he didn’t think any of it was fake.

 

But that opened up a whole other bout of possibilities and that would mean Will was pursuing Mike romantically, and that meant nothing but rejection. Rejection once Mike realized that he couldn’t handle the eyes on them, once Mike realized that Will was too sensitive or too clingy, once they both left for college.

 

So it was easier to hide behind the fact that Mike’s affection most likely started as just a way to help his friend. But it wasn’t fair to Mike to do that.

 

“Mike!” Will called out after English. No response, other than a speeding black-haired boy at the door. Art was next, and now the painting was just hard to look at. This morning, he had realized exactly who he was painting— the jumble of paints and sketched lines and final highlights in all of the incorrect orders.

 

He was painting Mike. Idiot brain– who he had trusted to just let the paintbrush go and figure out where the art journey took him, like he was some Bob Ross worshipping hippie. And now he was too far into his final project to scrap it, so he had to suck it up and think about the way the light hit the peak of Mike’s cheek and stare into his eyes and wonder if they were as deep as the real thing.

 

And worse? Mike had been in Max’s room last night, where he had taken it to work on it the night of homecoming. Meaning that if he had bothered to taken one good look at it, he would absolutely know that it was him. 

 

The only other time he would see Mike that day was if he staged a run-in before he went to work on the school newspaper, “Mike.” Mike averted his gaze as he approached Will, planning to— Will wasn’t actually sure— maybe walk the other way? It was a dumb idea either way and Will grabbed his arm and pulled him into an empty room either way. 

 

“Can we have a talk?” Will asked, folding his arms. He ached to hug Mike, the ghost of the feeling when Mike had held him two nights before clung to his arms, a memory that wouldn’t leave.

“I feel like we said everything that needed to be said over text.” Mike shrugged, the nonchalance of the boy he met when paired together for a random group project in English returning. He stayed aloof, running a hand through his hair to poof it up.

 

Will shook his head, “No, we didn’t. Or I didn’t.”

 

“You have more to say?” Mike managed bitterly, but Will wasn’t even upset. It was the first sign that Mike did care about Will, even if at the moment, it wasn’t positive feelings. He turned bright red when he realized. 

 

“I do. Including an apology.” He looked spooked at the idea of Will even saying sorry, “I know you didn’t lie about your feelings, Mike. If you did, that’s a shitty thing to do, but I don’t think you did. Maybe in the beginning, but homecoming night was real.You really did care about me. And you cared about me on the swingsets at the party and during the English debate.” Will bit his lip after that, glancing into Mike’s eyes. He needed to stop there because he knew what would slip out if he didn’t stop there. 

 

Mike paused, “I appreciate that. Even if it feels like we’ve been lobbing apologies back and forth all day.” He pursed his lips, a flash of something crossing his face. Will wished, not for the first time, that he could read Mike’s mind, “But you deserve better, Will. Or—” He rubbed a hand against the nape of his neck, “I guess you ever said that you even like me.”

 

“I do.” Will blurted out before he could stop himself. Their eyes met, and the intention was clear. I am laying my entire heart out for you, Wheeler, please just take it. “I don’t hate you. The opposite. I like you. A lot.”

 

Mike’s lips curled upwards, his face lighting up. Against his better judgement, Will took a mental photo for his painting. “I like you too. But I won’t ever be able to hold your hand in a crowded movie theater. I want to. But— can I? I don’t want your heart to be on standby until we find out. I don’t want it to break because I didn’t test it beforehand. I like you too much for that.”

 

Will sighed, wishing he could tell Mike how he felt. But he was never good at being poetic. It will always be on standby for you, “Great.” Will said, blinking back tears, “Okay. Um, I’m going to go.” Mike heaved a sigh, reaching out after Will. 

 

“Will, don’t cry, please.” But Will dodged his attempts to pull him back, exiting down the hallway, “Will!” Mike cried after him.

Notes:

CLIMAX COMING SOON!!!

yeah that's right I don't believe in third act conflicts those are for cowards

i hc el as aroace explaining the "in love w a man line" but i also see the lesbian el version of it so. art is to be interpreted lol

get hyped :D

Chapter 11: but mostly, i hate the way i don't hate you

Notes:

HIII i ditched u guys for a week my b my b

i'm back. and the ending is in sight. ITS IN SIGHT.

enjoy an extra long chapter js for you

dustin: So u understand the problem right like i’m not going crazy

el: Who is this?

dustin: Dustin duh

el: What? How did you get my number?

el: And yes.

dustin: What do u propose we do

el: Frankly I’m not sure.

dustin: Damn

dustin: I’ll see if I can think of anything and let u no

 

Dustin huffed a sign, glancing up at the clock as it hit 2 PM. Last period of the day. He hiked his backpack further onto his shoulder, tilting his hat back. His mullet looked eight times more effortlessly chic in a hat, and he was enough of a suck-up that his teachers didn’t usually care. When he looked back down at his screen, three messages had popped in from El and another was in bubbles. 

 

el: But I think inviting all our friends to one place will solve some key issues.

el: One, Lucas and Max are together unofficially, but Max is holding guilt for Will’s issues. Seeing them together will fix this.

el: Two, the obvious one, Will and Mike will get it together. I mean, I know Max and she’s going to play truth or dare/spin the bottle/7 minutes/generic game that forces Will and Mike to confront their feelings. 

el: That will split the blame across the entire lot of us evenly, us for combining the groups, Max for inciting whatever blowup will inevitably occur and Lucas for doing nothing to stop her. 

el: Beyond that, I doubt Will and Mike can spend longer than two hours without something or the other going down.

 

Jeez. El had thought this through. 

 

dustin: Whoa

dustin: For some1 who claims not to no what to do u no what to do

dustin: N exactly how they will react

el: I know game theory.

 

Dustin grinned. In the perfect world, where Lucas and Max started dating normally, the group slowly merged until Mike and Will realized their feelings, he could see himself hanging out with El. Even if they weren’t in that perfect world, they were somewhere close enough. 

 

el: Anyway, 6pm at my house. I’ll send the address over later, but before that convince Lucas and prepare Mike a little. Will’s crying because Mike did the “You deserve better” line.

 

Dustin winced, sliding into his seat in Bio, not a second too late. He glared over at the boy in question, who was staring down at his notebook, scribbling away. Most definitely nothing related to science. 

 

dustin: Ooh that’s on us

dustin: Apolgz apolgz

 

Mike had looked more— tired? Exhausted was more like it, especially in the last week and a half. His eyes were bloodshot, his face sallow. He had picked at his lips until there was nothing but blood and raw tissue. Covered in a disgusting amount of Vaseline and the glasses he never wore unless he was truly too sad to get up and put his contacts on, Mike looked— well, in the nicest way, pathetic. Pathetically sad. 

 

They needed to cheer him up, Jesus Christ, “Mike. Mike!” He hissed, as Mr. Coldo started talking. The boy glanced up, blinking puffy eyes back at him, “We’re going to hang out tonight. Lucas, me and you.”

 

Mike shook his head, frowning, “Not in the mood, man.”

 

“No can do. Lucas’s parents have been on his back about his grades, but he wants to hang out with Max. We’re his cover-up.” Dustin fibbed on the spot, ducking his head only when Mr. Coldo narrowed his eyes at the boys. Mike took it as his chance to leave the conversation.

 

“Come on, dude,” Mike finally said when Mr. Coldo let the class work in pairs, “Can’t you cover for Lucas alone?” Dustin totally could cover for him alone. Shit.

 

He sighed, letting him hear part of the truth, “Listen…me and Lucas, we’re scared. You’ve been in a weird funk recently and we want you to hang out with us. We want to hang out with you Mike.” Mike glanced up at the genuine concern in Dustin’s voice and pinched his lips together. As far as he knew, Dustin had no idea about Will. And he didn’t, not really, not beyond that something had happened.

“Okay sure. Where are we going?” Mike shrugged, resting his head on his elbows and closing his eyes. Dustin grinning, turning back to speed through a problem on his worksheet, “ That is a surprise.”

 

---

 

The first thing Will noticed was that Mike looked really good in his glasses. They were plain, just half-rimmed black glasses in a small rectangle, but they framed Mike’s pale face so perfectly, magnified his chestnut freckles— Will sighed endlessly.

 

In his mind. Out loud, he went, “What is he doing here?” And stood up before anyone could answer. 

 

El stood up too, “Will, we invited them. To hang out with us.” 

 

Will snapped his head over to look at El, “What? Why…” He trailed off, voice breaking. 

 

Mike sneered, face contorting past pain and anger, “Can you really not stand being in the same room as me for over two minutes?” Will fell silent at that. He couldn’t— not really, not without crying, he was sure, “Then it’s settled. If our friends want to be friends, we can tolerate each other.”

 

The word tolerate twisted like a knife in Will’s chest. He cried in silence, “Fine.” They sat down, careful to avoid eye contact. The silence in the room stretched on dramatically. Eventually, El spoke up, “Truth or dare?”

 

Lucas snorted, clapping Mike on the back, “Yeah, we got an only-Truther over here. But we’ll sub in.” Will didn’t dare look at him.

 

“Come on, it’s just dumb to force yourself to do a dare when you can just lie during a truth or dare.” Mike insisted.

 

“You can’t lie. You must say the truth.” El chastised. Dustin laughed in agreement.

 

Mike paused, “Yeah, well. Who’s going to know?” Max hadn’t spoken, but he felt the heat of her hand inching closer to his. He glanced to his right where he found Max staring open-mouthed at Mike. A blush had risen in her cheeks, and if she wasn’t so obsessed with Lucas, Will would have thought Max liked him. But that wasn’t it. Max ducked her head down, eyes glancing back up at Mike, then Will, then the ground. And then her eyes squeezed shut.

 

Shit. She felt guilty. Will tried to snake a pinky finger around her hand, which she barely noticed. Surely, truth or dare would cheer her up, “Yeah, let’s do it. Truth or dare,” He took an extra beat of silence to glare at his sister, who would be hearing it from him the entire way home.

 

“Okay!” Dustin said with maybe too much eagerness. He grabbed a pencil from the desk nearest to him and placed it on the wooden floor, giving it a pinch and push. It spun around so slowly, pausing at every person before landing on…

 

Will.

 

Goddammit.

 

“Truth or dare, Will?” El asked. Max glanced up at this.

 

Naturally, Will said, “Truth.”

 

El faltered. She didn’t have a question for him. Dustin stepped in, “When was your first kiss?” He said half-heartedly. It was the warm-up question, right, in any proper game. But Will hated it. Despised it. 

 

“I haven’t had one yet. None that I count, at least. Unless chasing down and kissing the boy next door in Pre-K is a kiss in your book.” Will had his answer recited and ready, deflecting the pathetic reality of his lack of romantic exposure with a hilarious joke (he’d had years to refine it). But no one laughed this time. El and Max had heard it, and he was sure it became sadder every time they did. Mike’s eyes darted across the room, anywhere but Will.

 

He didn’t know what he expected. Maybe Mike to feel so sorry for him that he kissed them right then and there. But that would be maybe the shittiest first kiss of all time. A look wouldn’t hurt though, right? Where was the thoughtful boy on the swings that night?

 

“That definitely counts. What’s a kiss but lip on lip action?” Will wasn’t going to admit that he had only been able to wrangle Marvin down half to the ground and only got a chance to kiss his cheek, “But it might also be harassment so we’re going to need to talk about that later.” Everyone let out a low chuckle at Dustin.

 

“Alright, my turn.” He spun the pencil until it landed on Max, “Truth or dare, Maxine?” Dustin giggled, mouthing Maxine from next to them like he was a toddler trying out a bad word.

 

“Dare.” A couple minutes later, Max had done an interpretive dance of a chicken finding out he was going to be killed to Titanium. A couple turns after that, Mike had admitted to singing bad renditions of Bollywood songs as a kid, Dustin had cried on command and El had prank-called Jonathan. El spun the proper glass bottle they found, after the pencil snapped in half during Max’s dance and watched as it landed on Mike.

 

“Truth.” Everyone groaned. Will didn’t say anything, but he did feel closer to feeling normal when he realized Mike was in the same room as him, “What? I’m just being smart—”

 

“Do you like Will? Properly? Like like -like ?” El asked. The mood snapped in half like a balloon. Will was going to sink into this ground and die. Properly and fully die. Mike turned the brightest shade of red Will had ever seen, and he thought dimly, that it even put Max’s hair to shame.

 

“Um— yeah. Yeah, I do.” El looked like she was going to argue, but Mike snatched the bottle up, placing it upright, “Maybe this game has run its course.”

“Maybe,” Max agreed behind him. Will hadn’t even processed what Mike had agreed to. El stood up, suddenly, holding an empty bowl of chips in one hand.

 

“Chips! We need more. Dustin, come on, I need you to get the soda.” And just like that, Dustin was being dragged out of the room too.

---

El was tired of this. Because she hadn’t meant to hurt Will’s feelings, but she feared she had with this entire get together and then she tried to fix it by getting Mike to admit his true feelings, but every time, Will just looked more upset.

 

“What do we do?” 

 

Dustin snorted, dusting his hands across the countertop, “Uh, I don’t know. This is your house.” He opened the fridge, as if to check for soda. El scowled, grabbing his shoulder.

 

“We don’t have soda. I just said that to talk to you. What do we do about Mike and Will?” El asked, slapping the side of his arm. She poured the rest of the chips bag into the bowl and then grabbed the pretzels to open them too. 

 

“You wanted to talk to me?” Dustin asked, waggling his eyebrows tapping his fingers on the table. El blinked at him until he moved on, “Fine. Lock them in the bathroom.” 

 

“The bathroom?” Max raised an eyebrow from behind them. El swivelled around, staring at her, ready to cover, “El, drop it. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that you and Dustin set this up. But you know— locking them in the bathroom? That feels far, even for you, Dustin.”

 

He threw a piece of buttered popcorn in his mouth, shrugging. “I don’t know. It would solve all of our problems— force them to fix their problems and deflate the intense awkwardness for the rest of us.” 

 

El was agreeing more and more. Unfortunately, she had dug a hole too deep. The ladder didn’t reach the top and the only way to make it out of here was to dig so deep that she found diamonds— okay, the analogy had lost its logic two holes ago, but still. The bathroom might just work.

She blew a strand of hair out of her face, “How?”

 

Max gaped at her, but Dustin tapped his chin, “We tell Will that El has to talk to him. Suddenly, there’s a spider. Is Will scared of spiders?”

“Like a— yes, he’s very scared.” Max concluded, “El definitely can be scared.” El’s eyes lit up, the plan forming in her head. She’d run out, screaming ‘Spider, spider, SPIDER!’ and if Dustin and Max did their job right, Mike would be just close enough that he would have absolutely known that Will was terrified and jumped in to save him. He’d run in, swivelling his head around, ‘ Where? Where?’ and just like that, BAM. The door would close shut and Mike and Will would have to gasp figure out their feelings.

So they did just that.

 

Notes:

okay did u lik ethat.

bathroom chapter coming up soon >:DDD

Chapter 12: not even close

Notes:

GUYS. you're gonna want to get the popcorn

this chapter flowed out of my bones so....I feel like it literally poured out, it was genuinely waiting for me to write this chapter anyways

enjoy bc we are soooo close to the end

“What. The. Hell.” Mike banged on the door one more time before he audibly gives up, with a groan and kick of his foot. It’s quite sad, in Lucas’s opinion.

 

He winced, and then turned to three people who were the reason for this mess, “What did you do?” He asked, more incredulous than anything. El’s face was a grimace and she led them out of the bedroom as she explained.

 

“It wasn’t meant to go down like that. I mean, how we were we supposed to know that when I screamed that there was a spider in the bathroom, Will would run out so fast?” El asked, running a hand through her hair.

 

Max jumped in, “I had to be quick on my toes. I said there’s a bug spray in the closet— go grab it, Byers,” She said, imitating herself but slightly more panicked. Lucas watched the reenactment with mild amusement. 

 

Dustin chirped, “Then Mike ran around the corner— we hadn’t timed it perfectly, so we had to tell him to also go in the closet to get the spray and right as he ran in, we slammed it shut.” Dustin made a PFOO sound with his cheeks puffed, deflating as he side-eyed the bedroom where Mike and Will sat, locked in together. 

 

“So now they’re sitting in the closet?” Lucas raised an eyebrow, “Stuck inside the closet? Together? And they can’t come out?” The trio nodded silently until Lucas threw his hands up, “Is no one seeing the implications of this?”

 

---

 

“They locked us in here together.” Mike said again. 

 

“You’ve said,” Will grumbled from behind him. Mike felt a pang of guilt. It’s not that it was so unbearable to be stuck here with Will, but rather that it was so —  embarrassing. To be here and know that he had rejected him. Worse? It was painful, to be here and long to hold him and do nothing.

 

“I’m just shocked. What do they want us to do? Is there a puzzle?” Mike asked, flopping back down. In the first five minutes, he was too scared to sit down— bad incidents with moths and chlorine could be blamed for that. But soon, he realized that this punishment would be too long and excruciating for him to not even sit down. 

 

Will sighed, “I know Max and El, and the puzzle is just for us to kiss.” Mike’s eyes widened, “I know you don’t want thaat, so our better option is just waiting it out.”

Mike frowned, furrowing his eyebrows, “I do want that, Will. I said the truth to El back there. I like you, or as she put it, like- like you. But you have to understand that—”

“Yadada I deserve better, I know. The spiel can end here.” Will said and Mike felt like an asshole. Of course this wasn’t making Will feel better— it was probably just reminding him of what happened last week. 

 

Mike fell into silence after that. But he couldn’t stay like that, “I talked to my sister.” Will’s eyes drew upwards at that, softening. They urged him to continue. Suddenly, Mike’s throat felt so dry, “She doesn’t know. That I’m—” He cleared his throat, “Gay. But it felt like— like she was saying that if I was, she’d be okay with it.”

Will’s voice was soft, awed, “Mike, that’s amazing.” Mike quirked a smile at that. 

 

“No Wheeler for me today?” Will blushed a deep shade of red like he had never predicted Mike would call him out for it. Mike probably never would again. He didn’t want Will to feel insecure of the nickname— he loved it. Sometimes, Mike felt like he’d never breathed until Will said Wheeler for the first time.

 

And he had to tell Will.

 

“Whatever, Wheeler. Can we just hang out? The great part about Max’s closet is—” He paused for dramatic effect, digging into a box behind Max’s clothes. Ten minutes later, Will had on a feather boa and star shaped sunglasses, while Mike had a drawn on mustache and two pigtails. The Game of Life board was laid out in front of them and Will skipped into night school with his wife and two kids.

 

Will paused as he landed on a square with a dog’s face peeking out. He glanced at the pile of green dogs and cats next to the home tile. “I really want a dog.”

“You don’t have any money!” Mike laughed, pointing at Will’s meager pile of ten thousand. The multiple children, wedding and lack of a degree had sucked up his savings, “You will actually go into debt.”

 

“I’ll take out a loan! I happen to know the banker.” Will said, smiling slyly.

 

“Yeah? You do?” Mike asked, grinning. He began to slide fake cash bills into his hands. Will had ran out of money two times already, once after he randomly quit his job (which Mike swore was not in the rules) to protest capitalism and another to get a fully furnished house after losing said job. Both times, Mike had slid him an extra hundred or two (or three) to get him back on his feet. 

 

Thus far, Mike had collected three cats and four dogs. He was living the life, at least in the board game, “We go way back. He owes me a favor.”

“What could he possibly owe you a favor for?” Mike asked, leaning to the side, tipping his head slightly forward. They were so close— and Mike thought quickly, quietly if Will kissed him right now, he’d kiss back. He’d hold him so close and kiss him until his lips were raw and Lucas broke down that closet door. 

 

Will winked, “I think he knows.” He ducked his head forward and their closeness seemed to hit both of them, their noses nearly brushing, Mike’s hair grazing Will’s forehead. They both looked down for a moment, awkwardness taking over whatever suave they had conjured up just for a moment.

 

Then Mike looked back up. Will was staring at him, with big brown eyes and freckled cheeks and parted lips— 

 

Will nearly dived forward, lips managing barely to hit Mike’s. They nearly squealed in shock and excitement and this pure elation that no number of perfectly placed words could describe. Mike kissed Will harder, if only to shut him up because in the haze that remained of his brain, he understood that the quieter they were, the longer they got. 

 

Mike regained his balance from where he had nearly fallen on the floor. Leaning on his left hand, he reached the other up, placing the palm flat against Will’s smooth cheek, deepening the kiss. The hand slid up, entangling themselves within his brown hair. A shock zipped through him as Will grabbed his hips, pressing their bodies closer and closer together. There was a pause as they let go, breathing heavily as they refigured themselves, Mike pressed against the wall, Will carefully in front of him. 

 

Mike could have gotten lost in the kiss forever. He allowed his tongue to slip into Will’s mouth, gently teasing the inside of Will’s lips until he whined. The distance was too much— would always be too much until Will forced himself closer, pressing Mike’s hands back as he stepped over Mike’s body to kiss him harder. Harder.

 

How long could it have been? Two minutes at the least and five hours at the most. But they had been too loud and nearly on top of each other and in the dark, it felt right, okay to do, until the light poured in on them, followed by shadows.

 

The shadows of their friends. Will leapt off of him, wiping his mouth. Mike couldn’t see his face, couldn’t hear anyone’s whispers as he dove out of the closet, shoving his friends to the side. His mind swam and he could barely even think. 

 

What would they think? What would Will think? Why had he even kissed him, knowing it could go nowhere? What the hell, what the hellwhatthehell. What. The. Hell. 

 

All he knew was one phone number.

 

---

 

“You can’t sleep in skinny jeans.” Nancy said, folding her arms. Mike groaned, shifting his weight to the other side of the bed, “Seriously. Get up.”

“Go away, Nancy. I’ll sleep in whatever I want.” He pulled the blankets further over him only for them to be ripped away from him. He rubbed his hands over his eyes. The worst part felt like a ticking time bomb— he had to go back to school today. 

 

“You shouldn’t be sleeping at all, considering you told Mom you would sweep the kitchen today.” The catastrophic consequences of that didn’t even hit Mike properly. His mom had been angry as hell this morning, meaning that a missed chore would be equal to hell, “Good thing your sister did it for you. Anyway, if you sleep, which you again shouldn’t, your skinny jeans will wrinkle and rip, considering the eight holes already poked into it.” 

 

Mike frowned, looking at his jeans, which were ridiculously stylish to him, “My skinny jeans are cool!”

 

“Considering how tight they are, then I’m more scared that they’ll permanently stick to you from the sweat.” Nancy wrinkled her nose at him. Mike got up, shoving himself into his closet to put on sweatpants.

 

“Are you happy? Will you leave?” Mike croaked, falling back onto the bed.

 

Nancy stared at her brother for a moment longer, studying the way he curled onto the bed. Then she got in with him, though she made a point to leave a pillow between them, “No. Listen, Mike, be honest. Are you gay?” Mike swallowed. He wasn’t surprised the question was coming up.

 

He took a deep breath, turning around so he couldn’t watch Nancy, “Yes. Maybe. I like a boy and that’s all I know for sure.” There was silence— a lot of silence, so unbearable, he had to turn around.

 

Nancy’s lips were pressed together, but she didn’t look angry or disgusted or any of the other faces she made in Mike’s nightmares, “Okay. Is it the boy you went to the party with?”

Mike paused and then nodded slowly, “I like him so much, Nancy. I let him cheat in Game of Life. A board game.” Nancy raised her eyebrows, chewing her gum slowly.

 

“Wow. When’s the wedding?” Nancy was met with a pillow in her face, “Well, are you dating him?” Mike shook his head, feeling the ghost of Will’s lips on his taunt him, “And why not? Don’t you like him?” She asked.

 

“Mom—” Mike began, but Nancy rolled her eyes, interrupting him immediately.

 

“Bup. Do you like him?” 

 

Mike shrugged, “Yeah, but Mom and Dad—”

 

“Bup bup bup! Do you like him?” Nancy said again, with less deadpan this time. She stared at him the way she used to when they played school as kids— before Mike ever went to school. The look she gave when Mike got a math worksheet she made and he had messed it up beyond comprehension. The Are you actually kidding me, you idiot, there is no way you are not adopted look. 

 

“Yes, Nancy, I do like him, but it is more complicated than that. Everyone at school will think of me differently, and I don’t want to be embarrassed of him because I associate the way everyone perceives me with—” Mike rushed, trying to get through it before she cut him off.

 

“Are you embarrassed of Will?” Mike shook his head without a second thought. She sighed, “Then, Mike, frankly, it feels like you have two options. One, you never see Will again and you decide to come out to our parents in a year or two years or five. Your high school reputation is saved, huzzah. And second, you deal with it now and you get to date Will. And if you like him enough to let him cheat in a board game, I think dealing with it now will be a price you can pay.” 

 

Mike stared at his ceiling fan, watched it spin around the broken LED stars as they dangled on by a strand of tape. He glanced at Nancy one more time and considered giving her a hug. But her face said to absolutely not do that. So he just inhaled deep and said, “I’d pay it twice.” Nancy beamed, and for a second, he saw the same dimple he saw in the mirror, “Thanks, Nancy,” His voice cracked halfway, tears threatening to fall.

 

“You’re welcome. And—” She paused, glancing away as she said it, “— I love you.” 

 

Mike did, in fact, hug his sister.

Notes:

whoa up and down and down and up

I love Nancy wheeler so much so this is her chapter

I wish there were like eighty versions of the game of life I think its amazing

anyway have the best week of your life until next time bye

Chapter 13: not even a little bit

Notes:

what's going on chat. two more chapters!!! and one is here with you today!!!

lowkey will never know if this entire fanfic is shit bc i've never reread it. either way i'm glad some people have found joy in this.

enjoy chap 13!

“I can’t believe you, El!” Will nearly screamed, the loudest he had ever heard his own voice. The embarrassment had gotten to him, his voice lilting up an octave higher, “Who told you that you can just meddle in my life? Because you can’t!” He screeched.

 

El grimaced, stepping back, “Will, I only wanted to help—”

 

He interrupted her, scowling, “You didn’t. You made the whole thing worse. You ruined my life.” He groaned, beginning to run up the stairs of their house. Max had forced her way into their car to tag along, mainly because she had probably seen how angry Will was.

 

“I did not. You kissed Mike. He kissed you. Surely, you see that you both like each other! You can date now! That was what I wanted for you.” Will sighed, running a hand through his hair.

 

“You don’t get it, El. It’s not that simple, and it doesn’t matter. Mike made it more than clear he doesn’t want to date me, so all you did was make it that much harder for me.” Will said, the tears beginning to prick his eyes. He sighed, running to his room before Max and El could say anything more.

 

He must have laid in his bed for an hour, at the least, his feet just dangling off the edge because he was too lazy to take his shoes off but not so barbaric to keep them on his bed. The sun began to dip and he was acutely aware of both the art gallery showing tomorrow and all the homework that had piled up on his desk.

 

The stupid art gallery. Where he would have to show his dumb painting of Mike, like he was an obsessed fanboy. He wasn’t. He really wasn’t. I mean, the way Mike stormed off after kissing him? Was it that disgusting? Was he so humiliated that his friends found out that he couldn’t bear to be there anymore?

 

If Mike had stayed, Will would have too. Will would have smiled and laughed as their friends teased them, would’ve rested his head on Mike’s shoulders and intertwined their fingers. And that was Will’s problem, wasn’t it? Will was the one who stayed. 

 

So this time, he would leave. He brought out his red Sharpie, the one he reserved for angry reminders on sticky notes on his mirror. He uncapped it, trying to picture the best way to cross out Mike’s face. A line through his eyes? Scribbling until his nose was just chopped paint remnants? Should he add a mustache?

 

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to Mike, or the painting, or himself. The mid-term was the most important grade of his Art 3 class, and he was proud of it. Mike looked, well, there was an emotion he managed to capture in him that he’d never done before. And maybe it was just Mike on his own, but he looked beautiful. 

 

So he took out a piece of computer paper, shoving the piece of cardboard he kept to prevent drawing on his desk underneath it. He began to do something that should probably be left to Mike. He began to write.

 

---

 

The first thing Mike did was call Dustin and Lucas. Well, text them, hoping they would recognize the severity of the situation and call him.

 

mike: please. ehlp. 

 

The phone rang immediately. “What’s up? Are you okay?” Lucas asked breathlessly, “What do you need?”

 

“Is it not obvious, Lucas? It’s about Will.” Dustin hissed as if Mike couldn’t hear him. He rolled his eyes.

 

“It is about Will actually,” Mike admitted, “I need help winning him over.”

 

Dead silence, followed by a FaceTime request. Mike quickly accepted. Lucas spluttered, “What? But you’ve spent the past month trying to get over him.” Mike winced, “You literally told us that ‘I am not in love with him’ followed by ‘when he rejected me, it was a knife through my heart,” Lucas attempted a terrible impression of Mike, “We got whiplash, dude.”

 

Only Dustin’s side profile could be seen from where he had perched the phone, half-hidden by his headset. Completely absorbed in the game he was playing, he added, “Also, you literally ran away from him at your house?” His voice was accompanied by a clicking noise. Recently, Dustin had picked up an unhealthy obsession with Baldur’s Gate 3. “I thought you had gotten the plague or something.”

 

Mike frowned, red creeping up his neck, “That’s such an exaggeration.” He paused, faltering, “But, um, do you think he thinks I hate him?”

 

Dustin: YES . Lucas: Noo!

 

Great, “What do I do?” Mike asked, burying his head into his hands, “I need to— I need to see him and talk to him.”

 

Dustin paused, humming, “Art gallery’s tomorrow. Won’t he be there?” Mike furrowed his eyebrows, frowning. 

“What is that?” 

 

Lucas cut in to explain, “Ooh, Max told me about this. All the art classes just finished their mid-term projects, so they display them at the school. There’s food, a poetry slam, an art raffle and I think that really famous TikTok artist guy is coming. The one that paints with butter knives.” Dustin nodded sagely.

 

“The point is: go there. Support him. Talk to him afterwards and apologize. ” Dustin paused, “I seriously cannot stress this enough: apologize. For everything.” Mike bit his lip, trying to think of everything. Every dumb thing he had done over the past month. 

 

“And get a gift!” Lucas remarked, “Do not show up empty-handed, dude.” Mike nodded, “No chocolates and flowers. You screwed up too big for that. Something personal.”

 

Personal? He tried to think. He knew plenty about Will— the way he laughed, his favorite time of day, how many pumps of cream he took in his coffee, but none of that translated to a grand gesture of a gift. He tried to think. Will liked art. A piece of art? But that was so impersonal. It needed to be—

 

A strange idea began to dawn on Mike.

---

There, it was done. It was short and dumb, but it meant too much to Will to just ignore, to store away like he was Lara-Jean hiding his feelings. He had to just say it somewhere, and where better than accompanied with his painting? He shot off an email to Lucy, the curator of the art gallery, who sent a begrudging sure back to him. He grinned, folding the paper, careful not to smudge the ink and shoving it into his bag before he forgot.

 

Not a moment after, Jonathan, Max and El all burst into the room, “Listen, Will.” Will spun around, glancing at the three of them, “I don’t get sibling dynamics. But I got Jonathan who does understand them and explained everything that’s been happening.”

 

Will immediately opened his mouth to protest, but Jonathan shook his head, “I knew something was wrong, Will. Ever since you started posting depressing Instagram notes.” Will blushed bright red, turning away from them, “Okay, let’s sort this out. El, it’s not cool to mess with Will’s problems. That’s not fair to him, no matter what your intentions are. Got it?” El nodded curtly, glancing up at Will to smile.

“Will,” And Will’s gaze switched to his older brother’s, “El was trying to help. You get to be mad, but you don’t get to yell at her without hearing her out. Got it?”

 

Max jumped in, “You guys are best friends. Okay? Technically, you’re fighting over a situation with some dumb boy. This is so not worth it.”

 

Will sighed, “Sure. I am sorry, El, for yelling.” He paused as El apologized back, giving him a small hug. He felt like they were thirteen again, freshly step-siblings, and his mom was giving him similar instructions to hug. 

He glanced up at Max, “And Max? It’s not your fault for trying to get me to date someone. I mean, in a weird way, I’m really glad I met Mike. I always thought I would never get to experience high school love like, well, like you and Lucas. So, even if it ended really badly, I feel like— I feel like I fell in love for the first time ever. Because of you.” Max blinked, ducking her head down.

 

“Oh.” She said, puffing out her cheeks in a desperate attempt not to cry. El reached her hand out for Max and pulled her in until they were both wrapping Will in an embrace. It would be okay, Will thought. He felt a singular stitch beginning to mend his open wound together.

 

Max laughed through tears, pointing at Jonathan, “How did you do that?” 

 

He shrugged, “I’m your older brother. Basically yours too, Max.” He left without another word, leaving the three of them to eventually calm themselves down. That was when Will finally explained his plan.

---

 

Will was officially here. He had to stand in front of his painting of Mike and smile at every kid in his grade, every parent that knew him or Mike as they whispered to each other, “Isn’t that Michael Wheeler? Why would he paint him? Probably in love with him, what a freak.” The plan felt like it was beginning to fall.

 

He wished Mike was here. There was a couple moments, long before the drama, where Will wondered if Mike would be here at the art gallery. If he would hold his hand and laugh at the people passing by, subtly point to the girl wearing popcorn themed denim shorts. But Will was here alone, and if he was this embarrassed showing off something he was proud of— what about the terrible poem he’d written?

 

Oh yeah. He had written a poem. He never wrote poems. Why had he even sent that email to Lucy? In some spite-driven, depressed state of mind, he had begged Lucy to let him perform slam poetry to a crowd of people he had never met, some of whom he’d have to see the next day. 

 

He huffed as Lucy texted him. 

 

lucy: Third in line. Get here now.

will: If I chickened out would you be mad?

lucy: Funny. I would drag you on stage and make you chicken out for your allotted five minutes. 

will: Jeez I get it

will: Coming

 

He knocked Max’s elbow against his as he walked behind stage. Lucy handed him the mic, explaining how to turn it on and off and lecturing him on not dropping it on stage to prevent a lawsuit on the school after breaking eardrums. Will’s hands were shaking, which only scared him more, so now he was holding onto the mike with both his hands like he was in a fifth grade talent show. 

 

He brought out his computer paper, crumpled from the wear and tear of his bag all day. He scanned the crowd, trying to look for El and Max. He found them, standing as close to the stage as they could, grinning from below him. Just a couple rows of people away, Lucas and Dustin were hanging out, glancing between the crowd and Will. He furrowed his eyebrows. What were they doing here?

 

Lucy cleared her throat from the stage, making a gesture to speed it up. He mouthed sorry and brought his mike to his mouth, “I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair.” He began, his voice stuttered only on the first two beats. He tried not to picture Mike’s soft voice when he talked to Will or his long hair, black and wavy as it fell across his forehead.

 

“I hate the way you drive my car.” Like he was in a freaking movie montage, he remembered with sharp clarity the scene he pictured when he wrote the line. Mike driving his car with utmost precision, barely letting his fear show, just for Will, “I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind.”

 

Will’s breath caught as he searched the crowd, once more. If Dustin and Lucas were here, could he be here? Was Mike here? He glanced back down, “I hate you so much that it makes me sick.” The water bottle with Will’s name written on it, carefully placed so Will wouldn’t have to stretch when he got it. His jacket neatly folded on his bed and the blanket tucked around him, “It even makes me rhyme.” A laugh sounded out of the crowd, even if it was a little hesitant, “I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.” Will stared at the crowd, feeling the beat, the emotion carry him through the poem. And then? He froze. There Mike was, holding something in his hand, staring up at Will with big brown eyes. 

 

He stumbled, trying to find where the next words were written, “I hate it when you make me laugh. Even worse when you make me cry.” He tried to keep his eyes on the page, but they were blurring with tears. He couldn’t see much, but he remembered enough, “I hate it when you're not around. And the fact that you didn't call. But mostly,” He looked up, one tear falling until Mike was the only thing in Will’s vision, perfectly clear. He held his gaze, trying to pretend he couldn’t see the way Mike’s lip quivered, “I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.”

Notes:

and everyone clapped

genuinely can't believe there's only one chapter left omg!! this has been the last four months of my life like what!!! and to think it started bc I found a random draft.

ykw here's an Easter egg for you. when Dustin says "oh there's a complication with the Will plan" I wrote that in november or smth so I have no idea what past me was thinking with that. and I never will. SOOOOO yeah.

Chapter 14: not even at all.

Notes:

a little short ending.

“You have to go after him!” Dustin shoved Mike forward. He knew that, he did. He took a deep breath, hands shaking as they held the large, poorly wrapped gift in his hands. He had stashed it in the band room when he found out Will was writing a poem, but he had not expected — well, had anyone expected? — the contents of it. 

 

He sighed, feeling a sense of inferiority and insecurity so deep within him, the way he felt every day before he met Will. Why would Will want to date him? After everything he’d put him through. But the truth had been quite obvious there, hadn’t it? I don’t hate you at all. 

 

But that didn’t mean love. If it meant love, wouldn’t Will go out there and just say that? Mike knew, though, that he wouldn’t. Will had been burnt too many times for putting his heart out there, and it was Mike’s turn.

Who cared what happened after that?

 

“Max?” He tapped on the redhead’s shoulder, “Max, have you seen Will?” 

 

She glanced at Mike warily, “Yeah. He’s by Jonathan’s car— light blue Sedan. Third row, eighteen parking spots down.” She frowned and folded her arms, but Mike wasn’t going to waver now. 

 

He rushed outside, wrestling the gift to his side. Cars whizzed past him, mussing up his hair, and oh god, he hadn’t considered how he looked in that moment. His ears went pink, wondering if his arms looked too lanky in this shirt or if his hair looked too messy after two missed haircuts. 

 

He strained his nek to find Will, and find him, he did. In the light, he was talking to a boy slightly taller than him. Other than that, they looked nearly identical, mousy features and chestnut brown hair. Only, the taller one looked hardened. His brother. Mike thought numbly of the abusive dad Will had told him about.

 

He rushed down, attempting to hold the gift slightly above the road, so it wouldn’t drag on the concrete. Cars were leaving faster than Mike could pass them, but eventually, he made it. He made it to Will’s side.

 

Will blinked, eyelashes gently sweeping across his cheek as he did. He glanced at Jonathan, lips pressed together. His brother got the cue and ducked into his car, burying his head into his phone. 

 

“Mike. I didn’t know you were here,” Will winced, “Well, I did— I saw you in the crowd when I read my poem, but I didn’t know you were going to be here. You know…” He babbled, trailing off. 

 

“I like you, Will. I like you a lot. And I thought it would be too hard— too much work to be with you. Coming out to my family, coming out to our school, and it scared me. It scared me so much. ” Mike closed his eyes, continuing, “But then every time you left and we stopped talking, that scared me so much more.”

 

He opened his eyes, reaching for Will’s hand. Will let him take it, “I’ll hold your hand at the movie theater, Will. Wherever you want me to. I’m never going to be embarrassed of you— because I’m always going to be gay. And right now, I think I’m always going to love you.” 

 

Will’s expression didn’t change, a twist of his eyebrows, a tilt of his head, and he hadn’t let go of his hands, but Mike felt his heart drop in his chest. Had he said the wrong thing? He rushed to fix it, “I’ll come out to my parents. I think it’s about time, honestly. And I don’t give a shit about what the school thinks of me.” As if to prove his own point, Mike turned to the nearest passerby, a girl he recognized from his science class with Dustin, “I love Will. I’m gay and I love Will Byers!”

 

The girl side-eyed him as if looking for a camera and then scurried away. He turned back to Will, smiling nervously. Will had broken out into a grin and jumped up to kiss him in the same way he had in the closet. Their lips connected softly, and Will pressed his hands on either sides of Mike’s face. “I’m gay and I love you too, Mike Wheeler,” He murmured, in between kisses. Mike dug his hands into Will’s hair and kissed him harder.

 

When they finally let go of each other, Will nudged the big box, wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper (Mike hadn’t had anything else!). “What’s with the box?”

 

“Oh!” Mike beamed, “I got you a gift. I know you love Elisabeth Louise Vignee Le Brun.” Mike had spent an hour practicing how to say the name, in between math problems and in the shower.

 

Willl giggled, “Elvalaba?” He asked.

 

Mike turned beet red, “I was hoping you forgot that. I was nervous!” He exclaimed.

 

“It’s okay. It was cute.” Will turned back to the gift, crouching to help Mike unwrap it, “What is it?”

 

“I couldn’t get you an actual painting from Elvalaba, obviously. I’m not rich, and also, I would have had no time to actual get it, but— I found on eBay a guy who does paintings in the style of Elvalaba and commissioned a favorite photo of mine.” Mike revealed the subject of the painting with a dramatic rip of wrapping paper.

 

It will Will. More specifically, it was Will in a feather boa and heart shaped glasses, a board of Life placed in front of him. Despite the ridiculousness of his costume, the painting had made him look serene. His cheeks were flushed pink and he nearly glowed in the dark space of the closet, “Mike…”

“Do you like it? I know it’s— like, a dupe and I didn’t know if that was off limits for paintings, but I thought it was so pretty when I got it—” Mike shut up as soon as Will kissed him again.

---

 

“At least, they’re kissing out of the closet.” Lucas said, nudging his girlfriend, “Seriously, did none of you see those implications?” 

 

Max shrugged, leaning against Lucas’s shoulder. They sat on the trunk of Lucas’s car, staring back at their two best friends from across the parking lot, “Technically, I did that, you know,” She said.

 

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Lucas said, “Watching at them for more than five seconds feels weird,” He added, turning away to look at his girlfriend more carefully.

 

“What— I did!” Max said, doubling down. Lucas raised an eyebrow and turned to tickle her stomach, “Stop! Stop it, Lucas!” Lucas did let go, only to place his hands on her waist as he kissed her.

Notes:

it starts with Lucas and max and IT ENDS WITH THEM!!!!

thank you to everyone who's been reading this-- it's the first long term fic i've ever finished and it's because of the joy people have gained from this and have expressed to me in the comments. it makes me want to keep writing to keep making you guys happy!!

love you guys <3