Chapter Text
Of all the families in Hawkins, hell, maybe even the world, he was sure there was none kinder than the Byers. As one of Will’s friends, he’d been spending time in their home as far back as he could remember. Distantly, he could recall meeting Joyce. It was a fuzzy, nostalgia-tinged memory, but there, nonetheless.
Standing in front of a worn, plaid yellow couch, he must’ve been no more than six years old. He was nervous, and his small hand clutched tightly to one that belonged to the sweet hazel eyed boy who’d asked you to play.
“Mama, this is my new friend from school, (Y/N).” Will had said.
He could feel heat creeping up his neck. (Y/N) didn’t like being the center of attention. In his little mind it was the easiest way to end up in trouble.
What if she didn’t like him? What if she said they couldn’t be friends anymore?
In retrospect these worries had been silly. Joyce had smiled at him sweetly, and he didn’t feel quite as scared anymore.
“Well, hello there. My name is Joyce.” Her tone had been warm and honeyed. “It’s very nice to meet you.” The woman moved then, taking his free hand, and shook it. A gesture that was exaggerated and light spirited. The joke in her tone made him grin.
“Thank you.” He said softly. Joyce had still been holding his hand.
“Of course! I’m glad Will made a new friend. You are always welcome to come over. And, as long as you’re here I’m not just Will’s mama, I’m your mama too. If you need anything, don’t be scared to ask me, okay?”
The petite woman squeezed the little hand in hers. At the time he hadn’t been sure why, but the attention had made him feel kind of warm and smiley.
He grinned up at her, nodding so excitedly that his chin dipped nearly to his chest.
“Good. I hope you boys have fun.”
Will’s smile was big, the biggest (Y/N) had yet seen. He tugged his friend along by their still joined hands down the hall to his room.
“We will, Mama!”
At present, a voice met his ears, fading out the memory. Oh.
He must’ve missed what Will had said.
“(Y/N)? Did you hear me?”
He turned to look at him.
In the time since then, Will had grown and changed quite a lot. No longer was he the small boy he’d met in kindergarten, at sixteen he stood nearly five inches taller than (Y/N) himself. And though he was still thin, his body had taken on a good amount of muscle, making him appear much stronger than (Y/N)’d ever really seen him. Truly, if he thought about it for too long he would begin to wonder if Will was strong enough to lift him. The image of being held close to Will’s chest often popping into his head, turning the tips of his ears red.
No, that was a question better left unanswered.
These thoughts aside, he was glad that Will’s almond shaped eyes and soft features had remained almost entirely unchanged. Save for the newfound definition to his jaw, which had nearly entirely rebooted his brain when he saw Will for the first time in over a year. Yeah, that change he could live with.
“Sorry.” He gave a shy smile. “I was thinking of something. I must’ve gotten distracted.”
Will lightly rolled his eyes, huffing a laugh. (Y/N) took note of the way his teeth peeked out from behind the gentle curve in his lips when he smiled like that. It made him a little seasick.
I wonder what it’d feel like. They’ve always looked so soft. He’s awfully close already, I could just-
Woah. Back out, back out. That’s dangerous thinking there, and you know it.
Ugh. How could he seriously be thinking about that right now?
How could you even be thinking about that when he’s right here! What would Will say if he knew you’d just been thinking that way about him? That you’d really considered… Not even just considered, but truly wanted to…
He grimaced at himself.
“What were you thinking about?” Will asked, patient and good-natured as ever.
Over the years he’d perfected covering up mistakes like this. Places his mind ventured when it got a little too adventurous. (Y/N) allowed the false calm to take over. “The day I met your mom for the first time.” He smiled. “I guess I was feeling nostalgic.”
Will smiled at the memory himself, perched on the bed beside him. Another laugh escaped him.
“Do you remember how sad you got when she had to drive you home?”
“Oh my gosh. How could I forget?” He groaned. “You gave me the longest hug I’ve had in my life and had to keep telling me, ‘It’s okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ ”
The grin on Will’s face grew. “Yeah. And you only stopped crying when I walked you to the car.”
(Y/N) flushed at that. He wasn’t sure if Will remembered what had happened next.
Strapped into the back seat of Joyce’s green bug, he was not at all happy the day had come to an end so soon. When she’d told him that it was late, and time to go home, he’d begun to cry. He’d been having such a good time! He felt stupid for crying. Even though he knew he’d see him tomorrow, he was still gonna miss Will. Bad.
“It’s okay! Tomorrow we can use the new crayons mama got me; I’ll wait to open them with you!” Will exclaimed, giving one last hug.
(Y/N) sniffled but nodded. He wrapped his arms around Will’s neck, clumsily squishing the side of his face into Will’s cheek. (Y/N)’s hair tickled, and he laughed.
Before fully releasing the boy (Y/N) leaned back just enough to see his face, then pulled him close again. With a hum, he pressed a kiss to the other boy’s cheek. When he finally let Will go, he made an exaggerated ‘muah!’ sound, a habit he’d picked up from his mother. He was now much happier to say goodbye.
“Bye! I love you, Will!” He’d said, with all the unfiltered honesty that only children seem to have.
The little brunet boy’s face was rosy; a big smile plastered across it.
“Bye, (Y/N)! I love you, too!”
Joyce was saved only by her herculean effort, concealing her grin with her hand. She quickly corrected her expression; she didn’t want the boys to think she’d been laughing at them.
“That was very sweet of you. Don’t worry honey, you have all the time to play again tomorrow.”
(Y/N) quickly realized that, yes, Will did indeed remember that, because he was blushing while keeping his gaze on the carpet.
“I guess I didn’t have much of a filter back then.” He nervously laughed. “Sorry about that.”
And though he was still blushing, Will had whipped his head up to meet (Y/N)’s eyes. His face was suddenly very serious. “No! I-I mean, you don’t have anything to be sorry for! Really.” He ran a hand over the hair at the base of his neck. “It always made me feel like I was special, y’know. Cared for.” Will cleared his throat. “I mean, the only other person you did that kind of thing with was-.”
“Mike.” They both concluded.
This was true. Not all that long ago Will had confided his feelings for Mike to him. Which, while obvious in hindsight, totally baffled him. Not because he was all that surprised Will felt that way, but because he too held romantic feelings for Mike. Honestly, the whole thing would’ve only shocked him more if Will had said he liked him that way too.
He’d told Will almost on the spot. Not about liking him, God that would’ve been a disaster, but that they shared these feelings for Mike in common. After the tense nervousness in the room had dispersed, they couldn’t help but laugh until their stomachs hurt.
“I guess we’re more alike than I thought.” Will had gasped between laughter.
There was really only one problem. (Y/N) knew that he loved them both. After this, he’d immediately felt guilty. Not only was he a gay guy in a small town like Hawkins, but he was selfish enough to fall in love with both of his closest friends.
Worst of all, he knew he could never say anything. For one, it was clear that Will loved Mike deeply, and he would’ve felt like shit confessing to the guy who already told him he liked someone else. Second, even if he could’ve told him before, he wasn’t sure Will would understand. Shit, he hardly understood it himself. And finally, they were both certain that Mike was straighter than a board, so telling him either was out of the question.
None of those changed the fact that he loved them. He’d spent an unhealthy amount of time dreaming of a perfect world where they were happy together. To have the freedom to do all those silly things his heart wanted, like tracing his fingers over the sharp line of Mike’s jaw, or press a kiss to Will’s cheek like when they were little just so he could see him smile.
He was well aware that these wants would need to forever remain secret. That world he dreamed of just didn’t exist.
(Y/N) wondered sometimes if something was deeply and incurable broken inside himself. It wasn’t normal to be like this, and he knew that. He had accepted that he would rather have to hide these feelings than to lose the two he loved most.
He was incredibly grateful for Will. Even after he knew that (Y/N) loved Mike too, he wasn’t upset with him. He didn’t get angry like (Y/N) might’ve expected. He didn’t worry that he would take him from Will. He had simply smiled and said, “You can’t help how you feel. Besides, it’s okay if it’s you. We can love him in secret together, right?”
It was funny, the amount of hope that one sentence had given him.
“We can love him in secret, together.”
In his mind, he knew better. Will hadn’t meant it that way. He had just been relieved that there was now someone who could understand what he was feeling. Even then, the smile that Will had given him when he said it was everything. Warm and gentle, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes. It’d made his stomach twist up in violent knots.
“I’m honestly surprised he’s never said anything. I always thought I was rather… overt.” (Y/N) shrugged.
Will shook his head, eyes downturned sympathetically.
“You know Mike, smart when it counts but socially stupid.” He laughed fondly.
Maybe something had been weighing on his mind, or maybe talking about Mike had made him upset, but Will turned away suddenly, gazing off toward his window overlooking the yard. His soft eyes then shining with unshed tears.
The pain in his face tore at (Y/N)’s heart. Will. Sweet, quiet, ever-caring Will hadn’t deserved half of the things he’d had to endure over the years. (Y/N) firmly believed, of anyone in the world, he was the one that most deserved to get what he wanted. To be loved. Especially by the boy that currently held his heart in his hands. He deserved to be loved by Mike.
Leaning so that his hands gripped his knees, Will’s hands had begun shaking.
(Y/N) was never the best at comforting others, at least this is what he believed about himself. But when it came down to Will or Mike, something in his body jumped into overdrive, pushing him to do things before he could think twice.
Without speaking he reached an arm around Will’s shoulder. He’d always been a jumpy kid, courtesy of his shit father, so when (Y/N) felt him relax a little he felt relieved. With a hand in Will’s hair, he guided him to rest his head on his shoulder, which Will immediately accepted. (Y/N)’s opposite hand easily found his waist, fingers kneading into the soft material of Will’s navy-blue polo shirt.
“It’s alright.” He whispered. “I’ve got you.”
For a while, that was how they stayed. Prolonging a quiet moment on a bright summer afternoon, enjoying the peace and each other’s company.
The sunlight glowed golden through the slats in the window blinds, leaving the room washed in a warm hue. In the silence, Will thought he heard mourning doves crooning in the distance.
It was instinctual really, the way (Y/N) took care of Will. They’d been in similar situations hundreds of times before. Though, not so many in recent months. Not now, when everything had felt so dire and strained between the three of them. It wasn’t done consciously, but at some point he’d started running his fingers through Will’s hair, in a motion he hoped was comforting.
It’d been quiet, and was quiet still when he heard muffled sniffling. Was Will crying?
Taking a glance where Will rested, sure enough (Y/N) could spot the tear tracks on his face. His expression was tight and pained. He watched a large tear that had clung to his eyelashes fall, running down Will’s chin before wetting the place where his face met (Y/N)’s collar. The fingers at Will’s waist tensed.
“Will?” He breathed. “What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”
He didn’t respond, but jerked his chin. What he’d meant was clear.
No.
No? No, what? Did he mean that he didn’t want to talk about it?
Was it something I’ve done? (Y/N) thought. The worry was beginning to eat away at his heart. He couldn’t keep watching him cry.
“I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, y’know.” He brushed a few stray hairs out of Will’s eyes. He lowered his voice before saying, “I just want to know how I can help you, sweetheart.”
With a quickness almost violent, Will had scrambled out of his arms, pushing away. Taking a few steps back from the bed, the look in his eyes was now sharp and angry. Though tears were still streaming steadily.
“You-! You can’t keep doing this!” Will yelled.
(Y/N) stood in front of him, hands raised in confusion. “What?! Will, I just-.” He took a step toward Will, who backed away again. He almost looked afraid of him, and it stung.
Will shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. “No! You- You always do this!”
“Do what? Will, I don’t understand!” (Y/N) cried.
He didn’t know what was happening. One moment, they were fine, holding each other like they used to as kids when they were upset. The next, Will seemed ready to pop like a firecracker. What did he mean? What had he done?
Did I make him cry? Did I hurt him?
“Will, whatever I’ve done I’m sorry.” (Y/N) tried for his sake to stay calm. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I swear I didn’t. I-.”
But Will was having none of it. Whatever he’d set off was visceral and had obviously been eating away at Will for a long time.
“This needs to stop.”
His breathing was heavy, chest rising deeply with every draw. “How can you act like you don’t know what you’re doing?! You’re always so close, always calling me things like that, always treating me like- like this.” He gestured vaguely toward where they’d been sitting. “Like it doesn’t mean anything.”
Oh.
That’s what Will meant. He’d known.
He’d known how (Y/N) felt about him, and that’s why he was angry. It made sense to him now. For however long he knew, (Y/N) had been making Will uncomfortable with his behavior. No wonder he was upset, (Y/N) knew he loved Mike.
How long? How long had he known and let me continue without a word? How long have I been hurting him this way?
It was the last thing (Y/N) wanted. He never, never would’ve hurt Will on purpose. He felt his own tears welling up, eyes stinging. He wanted to be sick. He had done this to Will. No one else.
Will stared back at him, waiting for him to say something. To do something.
“I’m so sorry.” He choked. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I know you don’t feel the same, I do. I just-.” (Y/N) tried to take a deep breath, but it came out like a sharp hiccup. “It meant the world to me. I swear to God, it did. Every time I got to care for you did.”
Will said nothing, face betraying little as to what he was feeling. After a moment, he turned away.
“Just- just go home, (Y/N). I need to be alone.”
“Will-.”
“Didn’t you hear me!?” His voice cracked. “Go. Home.”
The lump in (Y/N)’s throat was painful to swallow. But he’d do what Will asked. Walking to the door, he only stopped after gripping the handle.
“I’m sorry, Will.”
He didn’t respond, and (Y/N) hadn’t expected him to. But if this was it. If it was the end of their friendship because of something he’d done, he desperately needed Will to understand just how sorry he was that he’d ever hurt him.
Defeated, he left. Shutting the bedroom door behind him.
Joyce had been sitting in the living room, and he knew that she’d probably heard the two of them fighting.
He met her gaze, and instead of the angry look he thought he might find there, as she was always protective of her boys, instead he found concern. The worry aged her face slightly, pulling at the creases around her eyes.
“Is everything alright, honey? I heard some shouting.” She gracefully avoided disclosing that she had indeed heard.
Taking this easy out, (Y/N) wiped his eyes. “Yeah, no. Everything’s fine.” He shuffled his feet. “My, uh, my mom is expecting me home early so I’m gonna get going.”
Joyce stood, stopping him before the door. Her hands were small, but always strong. They gripped his shoulders gently.
“Are you sure? If anything’s bothering you, you know you can always come to me.” She says, rubbing her thumbs up and down his shoulders comfortingly.
He nods. “I know.” He can’t talk about this now, he feels so close to crying again. “I’m okay. Promise.”
While her face tells him she doesn’t quite believe that she’s willing to let it go. Joyce nods back to him. “Would you like me to drive you home?”
(Y/N) shakes his head. “It’s alright, really. I brought my bike anyway.”
Joyce pressed her lips into a thin line, a look of fondness in her eyes. A look that he knows he doesn’t deserve. Not after the way he’d made Will feel.
She pulls him into a tender embrace, the way she’d always done. The way that so easily made him feel right at home with her and her family. He wondered how one woman could possibly be so warm and loving. (Y/N)’s sure that’s where Will got it from.
“It’ll be alright.” She whispered.
Her reassurance has enough power to break him all over again. And while she holds him, he allows himself a few tears and a muted sob to escape. He’s not sure it will be alright. How could it be? How could he ever repair what he’d broken between them? And he finds, not for the first time, he wishes he were twelve again.
Joyce had been reluctant to let (Y/N) leave, but if he wasn’t ready to talk to her, she would wait until he was. Will and (Y/N) had never fought like that before, not to her knowledge. And with the living room being just on the other side of Will’s bedroom wall, it would’ve been nearly impossible to ignore the shouts she’d heard.
The boys had always been close, ever since they were little. She fondly remembers how the two would color on the living room rug, back when she’d still had that ugly green thing. How they would make up stories and draw their characters. When Mike came along soon after, the three were almost never apart. Mike and (Y/N) had quickly become protective of her son, often one or even both of them holding his hand. They always spoke to him softly, encouraging him to take lead and choose their activities. Sometimes they would make surprises for Will, usually those school art projects that they expect to be taken home to students’ parents.
A soap shaving snowflake still hung on Will’s wall, the glue yellowed with age, turning the blue construction paper sickly gray beneath it. The paper signed with the childish scrawl of two second grade boys, and a ‘For Will’ at the bottom followed by a little wonky cut out of a heart. They were messy signs of affection, but he treasured every single one. It had been obvious to her that Will was special to the both of them.
But in the past year, since before they’d returned to Hawkins, the three had been strangely distant. She’d seen that Mike had been pulling away, as he hadn’t visited with the same frequency as he used to. And poor Will, he was so heartbroken. All he’d wanted to do was spend time with them again.
Joyce had figured that with time, things would improve. She’d thought that once the honeymooning phase had passed between Mike and El, that the three would be back to the way they had been. Unfortunately, they’d moved away before the boys had a chance. Looking back, she could see that leaving hadn’t been the great new start she’d hoped it would be. At the time though, she couldn’t be in Hawkins. It would’ve been too hard. However, even after six months of being back home, things between the boys had been a little off. While, yes, Mike had begun to visit on an almost regular basis again, there was an air of tension that could be felt whenever the boys were left in a room together with no buffer.
She hadn’t wanted to assume anything, but it was becoming harder to remain intentionally oblivious.
Joyce had recently taken notice of the way her son looked at the two of them. This fueled the suspicions she had as to the reason for the awkward tension. Now, with what bits and pieces of the fight she’d overheard, she was almost certain she’d been right.
She sighed. She was lost past due to have a talk with her youngest son.