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The first time Mike Wheeler told Will Byers he loved him, they were both standing in the Hawkins Public Library, soaked in demogorgon blood, Vecna’s ashes still settling in the air like cursed snow.
It didn’t feel real yet.
The silence was too big. Too empty.
Moments ago, the world had been screaming. The roar of tearing gates, the shriek of the the Upside Down collapsing in on itself, the rumble of the ground as Hawkins finally, finally stopped splitting open. Their friends had scattered, sprinting across the battleground to close cracks, stomp out remaining vines, and make sure no new horrors crawled out.
But here, in the abandoned children’s aisle of the library, surrounded by overturned chairs and melted fairy-tale books, it was just the two of them.
Will and Mike.
Alive.
Somehow.
Will braced a hand on the shelf beside him, chest heaving. His whole body buzzed with adrenaline and terror and relief and something else he didn’t have a name for, something that kept pulling his gaze back to Mike.
Mike, who was wiping monster blood from his cheek with the back of his sleeve.
Mike, whose hair was sticking up in fifty different directions, damp with sweat.
Mike, whose t-shirt was torn near the shoulder where a demogorgon claw had nearly shredded him open.
Will swallowed hard.
He felt shaky, and maybe a bit unhinged, but Mike was alive and that was all that mattered. That was everything that mattered.
For a moment they simply stared at each other.
Mike’s face twisted - not in pain, not quite - more like he was trying to hold in a thousand things at once.
Then he laughed. Sharp. Breathless. A little hysterical.
“We did it,” Mike said, his voice cracking halfway through. A slow grin spread across his face, exhausted but wide and real. “Will… we actually did it.”
Will felt the grin rising on his own face before he could stop it. Relief hit him so hard he almost staggered. “We did.”
They both started laughing then, the kind of laugh that came after weeks of terror and sleepless nights and almost dying too many times.
A laugh that sounded too loud in the empty library.
Will leaned forward, hands on his knees, and Mike braced himself on a table, the two of them giggling like lunatics while surrounded by carnage.
And then Mike looked up at him.
Really looked.
Will straightened slowly. Mike’s eyes were shining in a way Will hadn’t seen since they were kids - soft and bright and alive.
“Will,” Mike said, voice suddenly gentle.
Will’s breath caught. Mike’s expression shifted again, like he was teetering on the edge of something big. Something terrifying. Something important.
And before Will could ask, before he could think, before the world had the chance to interrupt…
“I love you,” Mike whispered.
The words rang out between them, quiet but deafening.
Will froze.
His heart stumbled in his chest. One shocked, painful beat. But his brain latched onto the only explanation that made sense through the fog of exhaustion and relief.
He didn’t mean it like that.
Of course he didn’t.
Mike always said emotional things in moments like this. High-stakes, near-death, heart-pounding moments. He was expressive, dramatic. He loved all of them, their whole party. He’d told El he loved her earlier. He’d told Dustin once during a crisis. (And Will hadn’t been jealous. He hadn’t. He knew that Mike loved him. He showed it. In actions, in “crazy together”. In every touch and glance and smile and sneer at anyone who so much as looked at Will wrong.) Mike cared deeply, loudly.
So Will forced himself to smile.
“I love you too, Mike,” he said, steady but breathless. He meant it, he always meant it, but he shoved down the aching warmth that rose in his throat. The part of him that wanted the words to be something else. Something more.
Mike’s expression flickered. Something surprised. Something vulnerable.
But he didn’t get the chance to clarify.
Because the door at the far end of the library burst open.
“Will!” Joyce’s voice tore through the silence, frantic and desperate and relieved all at once. She was sprinting across the room before Will could form a single word. Hopper was right behind her with his shotgun still raised, checking corners, shouting something over his shoulder. Robin’s voice echoed in the hall, Steve calling out to Dustin, Lucas shouting Mike’s name.
Chaos crashed back into the room like a flood.
Will barely had a moment to turn before his mom collided with him, wrapping him in a crushing hug. He stumbled into her, arms coming up automatically, heart pounding with leftover adrenaline and the sudden rush of being held.
“Oh my gosh, Will, baby, are you hurt? Are you okay? Are you-”
“I’m fine, mom. I’m okay. I’m really okay.”
He tried to look past her - he didn’t know why, he just… did, and caught a glimpse of Mike on the other side of the crowd.
Mike was being pulled into a hug by Dustin, then by Lucas, then by Robin. He looked dazed, stunned, blinking like he was trying to keep track of Will through the swarm of people around him.
Their eyes met.
Just for a second.
Mike’s smile was small, soft, almost shy.
Something in Will’s chest squeezed painfully.
Then Mike mouthed, later.
And Will nodded.
They didn’t get a chance to talk. Not before the paramedics and government cronies arrived. Not before they were ushered into vans to be checked for injuries. Not while they were all herded back to Hopper’s cabin for safety and food and shouting and crying and all the things that came after saving the world.
But even hours later, surrounded by noise and people and chaos… every time Will looked across the room, Mike was already looking at him.
Smiling. Waiting.
And Will told himself that Mike’s “I love you” had been nothing more than friendship and victory and relief.
He had to believe that.
Because the alternative felt too big, too hopeful, too impossible.
He loved Mike. He loved Mike more than he loved anyone in the world. Mike was his favourite person. Mike was the boy he’d adored his whole life. He loved Mike so much that it made him sick with want and need. He loved Mike to the point that Will thought he might drown in it, might die in the constant overwhelming feeling that hit him when he thought about Mike or looked at Mike or spoke to Mike.
Will Byers was in love with Mike Wheeler. And Mike… Mike loved him, so much, so openly. But Mike wasn’t in love with him.
Mike was straight. And even though Mike and El had broken up, he was sure that Mike still loved her. He’d always loved her.
But he still felt the echo of the words in his chest long after the library was abandoned, long after the adrenaline faded, long after the world stopped shaking.
“I love you.”
The first time Mike said it. The first time Will misunderstood. And far from the last.
*****
It had been a week since the Upside Down had finally fallen silent. A week since Vecna had died. A week since the last gate had been sealed.
A week since Will had stood in a blood-soaked library and heard Mike Wheeler say I love you in a voice he still pretended was just friendly.
The world was finally returning to something like normal. Hawkins wasn’t collapsing. People weren’t screaming. And for the first time in years, Will could breathe without feeling a monster’s shadow in his lungs.
The weird connection to Vecna was gone. Will couldn’t feel him and for the first time since that fateful night all those years ago, Will could breathe freely without the feel of something prickling under his skin.
Mostly.
Because Mike Wheeler had decided to drive him absolutely insane.
Will was in Mike’s room - their room, temporarily - tidying his clothes in the section of Mike’s wardrobe that was now his. He and Jonathan had been staying with the Wheelers ever since they returned from California, all crammed into rooms and hallways and couches.
Joyce had been looking for a house, while El had moved back in with Hopper. But Will hadn’t minded sharing with Mike. It’s Mike.
After the events of last week, the party had spent most nights together, clinging to the safety of shared walls and whispered jokes and the promise that they were all still alive. Will hadn’t had a moment alone with Mike since the library.
But now the others had finally gone home. Lucas and Dustin back to their houses. Max was still in hospital, recovering.. Even El had now gone with Hopper and Jonathan to help the relief volunteers, Jonathan returning late and leaving early, and El back at the cabin with Hop.
Which left Will here.
Alone with Mike.
In the room they’d shared every night.
Mike was sitting on the bed behind him, cross-legged, leaning forward, watching Will cleaning up his things. He’d been hovering for an hour - shifting closer, nudging Will’s arm with his, brushing his hair out of his eyes, pretending he wasn’t doing any of it.
Will swallowed hard.
Mike had always been touchy. Always had a hand on Will’s shoulder, or tugged him close during a movie, or leaned on him when he was tired. Will had spent half his childhood trying not to melt under the weight of Mike’s casual affection.
Except for California.
That strange, awful stretch where Mike’s touches had disappeared and Will had convinced himself he’d imagined everything between them. That horrible, awkward pat on the shoulder when Will had tried to hug Mike at the airport had haunted his dreams for weeks.
But now?
Ever since Vecna fell, Mike had been… worse.
Hopeless. Relentless.
Every time Will turned around, Mike was right there with an arm slung around him, fingers grazing his wrist, shoulder pressed against his shoulder, standing so close behind him that Will had felt his breath on his neck.
And Will was losing his mind.
He liked it too much.
He liked Mike too much.
He shoved another t-shirt into the cupboard, trying to ignore the rush of dread twisting in his stomach. Joyce was house-hunting. They’d be moving out of the Wheelers’ soon enough. And the idea of not waking up to Mike breathing softly close by made him feel physically nauseous.
“I can help with that, you know,” Mike said suddenly, voice right behind him.
Will nearly jumped. “I… I’ve got it,” he said quickly, hanging up another jacket and slipping it onto the rail next to Mike’s. “It’s fine.”
Mike hummed and Will felt breathless as Mike scooted even closer. His shoulder bumped gently against Will’s. There it was again, that constant orbit.
Like Mike couldn’t stand to be more than six inches away.
Will hated how much he loved it.
“You’ve tidied up enough. Come on, come lie down with me, it’s late and you’re tired.”
Will closed his eyes for a moment.
He wanted to. Hell, he wanted to. But wanting Mike was dangerous.
“Okay, okay, let me get out the sleeping bag,” Will said.
That dreaded sleeping bag that Will had been sleeping in for months, next to Mike’s bed, listening as the boy he was in love with tossed and turned nearby.
“Just share with me. Will, you need a proper bed. Just… just share.”
Will swallowed and turned around to face Mike. They were so close. So fucking close and Will wanted to kiss him. Will looked down. He couldn’t look into Mike’s beautiful eyes. If he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from pressing their lips together.
“I don’t want to impose. I’ve already been talking up space in your room for months.”
“You’re not imposing.” Mike’s voice dropped, earnest, almost frustrated. “You never… Will, you never impose.”
Will’s heart gave a painful little thud.
Mike was so close. They were stood, face to face and Mike reached out and gently grazed Will’s wrist with his fingers.
The silence stretched again - warm, intense, charged.
And Will knew that Mike was staring at him.
He looked up.
Mike’s cheeks were pink, his hair still damp from his shower. He looked nervous.
Nervous in a way Will didn’t understand.
Mike swallowed, eyes darting down to Will’s hands, then back up to his face.
“Will?” he said softly.
Will’s breath caught.
Mike leaned forward a little, just enough that Will felt the heat of him, just enough that his voice seemed to wrap around Will’s ribs.
“I… I didn’t get to say this properly. After the library. Things were crazy, and everyone was yelling, and then paramedics were shoving oxygen masks on people, and we haven’t been alone since with everyone sleeping here and I…”
Will blinked. His stomach twisted. Was Mike…?
“I just wanted you to hear it again,” Mike whispered.
Will froze.
Mike took a shaky breath, eyes searching Will’s face like he was afraid of the answer.
“I love you, Will.”
There it was again. The second time.
Just as soft. Just as sincere.
And Will, heart racing, stomach flipping, chest tightening, told himself the same thing he had in the library.
He means it as a friend.
Of course he does.
Because anything else was impossible.
“I love you, too,” Will whispered, the words catching in his throat. Mike’s fingers were still brushing lightly against his wrist, warm and gentle and so distracting that Will could barely think straight.
Mike’s reaction was immediate.
His whole face lit up. Not just a smile, but something bright and overwhelming and beautiful. His cheeks flushed, eyes going warm and wide, and he looked so stupidly happy that Will forgot how to breathe for a second.
Mike let out a tiny, breathless laugh. “Will,” he said, like it meant something huge. Like it cracked something open in him.
He leaned in, slow and certain, until his forehead pressed softly against Will’s. His fingers slid fully into Will’s, lacing together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Their hands fit too well. Their breaths mingled. Will’s heart thudded against his ribs so loudly he was sure Mike could hear it.
“Will,” Mike whispered again, voice trembling, almost like he was working up to something, something big, something terrifying, something not-friend-shaped at all.
Will didn’t move. He couldn’t. The world shrank until it was just Mike’s breath on his lips and their hands intertwined and the weight of something crackling in the air.
And then-
The door creaked open.
They jolted apart so violently that Will stumbled against the wardrobe.
Holly Wheeler stood in the doorway, blinking innocently at them.
“Did I leave my unicorn in here?” she asked.
Holly had been spending a lot of time with Mike recently, scared and clinging to her big brother. Mike looked around and spotted the stuffed animal on the floor.
Will watched as Mike went and picked up the unicorn and handed it to his little sister. He watched as Holly beamed and gave Mike a hug, before leaving the room. He watched as Mike shut the door and turned back to look at him.
The silence was deafening.
Mike scrubbed a hand over his face, ears flaming red. “Shit, sorry. I just… sorry.”
Will shook his head quickly, forcing a laugh he didn’t feel. “It’s fine. Totally fine. We’re fine.”
Mike opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else, but closed it again, deflated. He swallowed and gestured to the bed.
“Come on. It’s late.”
Will sat frozen on the carpet, heart still pounding, as he watched Mike climb into bed and pat the empty spot on the mattress beside him.
He replayed the last few minutes in his head. The smile. The closeness. The forehead touch.
The way Mike had said Will like it meant everything.
He’d really leaned into it. Too much. He’d almost let himself believe-
No.
No, Mike had said “I love you” the way Will said it to El. Or Jonathan. Or Lucas. Or Dustin. It was friend love. Brother love. Trauma-bonded-we-survived-a-demonic-hivemind love.
Mike was affectionate. That’s all. He liked touching people. He liked touching him. It didn’t mean anything romantic. Of course it didn’t. Will was reading too far into it, again.
He forced himself to move across the room. He slowly climbed into the bed beside Mike. He pulled the blankets up as Mike leant over and turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness.
Will lay stiffly on his back, staring at the ceiling. This wasn’t the first time he and Mike had shared a bed. They used to all the time as kids. But it was the first time they’d shared in a long time. Since Will had realised he was completely and utterly in love with Mike.
Mike hesitated for half a second. Then, like it was simply reflex, he shifted closer. His arm slid around Will’s waist, warm and sure. He rolled Will over slightly and pressed his chest against Will’s back. His legs tangled with Will’s under the blanket.
Spooning him. Just, casually. Like it was normal. Like it was allowed.
Will swallowed hard and closed his eyes.
It was fine. Totally fine. Friends cuddled. Best friends survived hell together and then slept tangled up afterward. It didn’t mean anything weird. It didn’t mean anything romantic.
He told himself that until he fell asleep.
He told himself that even when Mike tightened his arm around him just slightly, breath ghosting over the back of his neck.
He told himself that even when his heart ached with wanting.
And he believed it.
Because anything else was impossible.
*****
It was a couple days later, and Hawkins was finally, miraculously, starting to feel like a place that wasn’t actively trying to kill them.
The cracks were sealed. The air didn’t smell like smoke or rot. The sky was just a normal spring sky, hazy and pale blue, thin sunlight warming the cold air.
And Will was biking down the long stretch of road toward Lover’s Lake with Mike beside him, laughing like someone who didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders anymore.
They had decided - at Lucas’s insistence and Max’s begrudging agreement - to celebrate Max leaving the hospital with a “normal day.” A picnic, some games, no monster talk, no gate talk, no trauma talk.
Will was so relieved that Max was awake and better and healed. She may have lost her eyesight permanently, but she was alive. And he was so ready to have a normal day with her and the rest of the Party.
“Race you,” Mike said suddenly, pushing ahead with a burst of speed.
“You’ll crash,” Will shouted after him, half exasperated, half delighted.
“Like hell I will!”
Mike swerved in front of him again, tires nearly grazing Will’s, and Will yelped, gripping the handlebars tight.
“Mike!” he laughed. “You’re going to get us killed before we even make it there!”
Mike glanced back with a grin so wide it made Will’s heart stutter. “It’d be a memorable way to go.”
“Why are you like this?” Will said, but he was smiling, breath puffing out in white clouds.
The ride felt like something out of a dream, wind whipping past him, sunlight glittering through the trees, Mike’s laughter echoing across the road. For once, for the first time in so long, Will didn’t feel like he was waiting for something bad to happen.
Instead, he felt good. He felt light.
And Mike… Mike looked lighter too. No more tight shoulders. No shadows under his eyes. No haunted look like he was waiting to lose someone again.
Just… Mike. Alive and bright and somehow even more gorgeous for it.
By the time they reached the forest clearing leading to Lover’s Lake, Will had almost forgotten what fear felt like.
They hopped off their bikes at the trail entrance. Will grabbed the bag packed with snacks, and way too much candy, and slung it over his shoulder.
Through the trees, the rest of the Party came into view.
Lucas had spread a couple of blankets on the grass. Max sat right in the middle of one, guarding the best spot like a dragon hoarding treasure. Dustin was arguing animatedly with El over whether she could use her powers to shuffle cards in a game of Go Fish. El looked deeply offended by the suggestion.
El spotted them first. “Mike! Will!” she called, waving her hands above her head. “Hurry!”
Will laughed and started toward her.
But before he could take more than two steps, something tugged at his hand.
Mike.
He’d reached out without hesitation, fingers curling around Will’s like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like it was natural. Like they’d been holding hands their whole lives.
Will froze in place, surprised by the sudden closeness. Mike stood a little too near, their shoulders almost brushing. Their hands swung gently between them.
Will felt his pulse jump.
Mike’s face was soft, so soft it knocked the breath out of him. His brown eyes were warm and steady, almost glowing in the afternoon light.
“Hey,” Mike murmured, voice quiet enough that only Will could hear.
“Yeah?” Will whispered.
Mike’s thumb brushed a slow, deliberate arc across the back of Will’s hand. Will’s stomach flipped.
They stood like that for a moment, with sunlight blinking through the trees, with laughter from their friends drifting over the clearing, with the world feeling strangely full and gentle.
Then Mike leaned in, just a fraction, and said it. Louder. Sure. “I love you.”
Not rushed like in the library, said through adrenaline and fear.
Not breathless and trembling like in his bedroom, face close enough that Will had felt every word against his cheek.
Will’s mind latched onto the familiar comfort of it, the easy warmth, the safety.
Of course Mike loved him. They’d survived hell together. They were best friends. Mike said dramatic, emotional things all the time. And lately he’d been…extra affectionate. Touchy. Clingy. Sweet.
It was confusing, but it wasn’t weird.
Just…Mike.
Will smiled before he could stop himself, chest warm and tight and full.
“I love you, too, Mike” he said gently, the words spilling out like breath.
Mike inhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around Will’s. His eyes widened, soft and startled and glowing with something Will didn’t understand.
For a second, he looked like he might say something else. Something big. Something that would change everything.
But-
“HURRY UP, LOVEBIRDS!” Max shouted across the clearing. “SNACKS OR DIE!”
Mike turned bright red so fast it was almost impressive. Will laughed, shaking his head.
“Max just hates subtlety,” Mike huffed under his breath, hand still gripping Will’s.
Will snorted and let go of Mike’s hand so he could pick the bag back up, completely missing the flicker of disappointment that flashed across Mike’s face when the contact broke.
They started toward the blankets, side by side, their shoulders brushing with every other step.
El grinned when they reached her. “You are late,” she said, mock stern.
“Blame Mike,” Will said.
“Hey!”
Dustin pointed between them. “What was that about hand-holding, huh?”
Mike spluttered. “What, shut up.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “Subtle.”
Lucas added, “Not subtle.”
Will laughed, cheeks flushing, assuming it was all normal teasing. Friendly teasing. Platonic teasing. Because Mike loved him. And he loved Mike. Just… not in the way Mike meant. Right?
Mike sat beside him on the blanket, close enough their knees brushed. He didn’t move away.
Will swallowed hard and tried to ignore the dizzy warmth blooming in his chest.
It was fine. Normal. Friendly. It didn’t mean anything else. Of course it didn’t.
Will forced himself to focus on the picnic blanket instead of the ghost of Mike’s touch lingering on his hand. He could feel the warmth there, buzzing like static. Ridiculous. He needed to get a grip.
It didn’t mean anything. Even if his heart was beating way too fast. Even if his face felt warm. Even if Mike’s eyes had gone all soft and hopeful when Will said I love you too, like it was the most important thing in the world.
Will shoved down the thought before it could form fully.
He plopped the snack bag onto the blankets, trying to act normal. El clapped as if he’d delivered treasure.
“Snacks!” she announced.
“Finally,” Max said, already reaching into the bag with the confidence of someone who claimed half its contents as hers by default. She pulled out a bag and felt it before saying, “Twizzlers?”
Dustin laughed. “Got it in one!”
Lucas tugged her wrist. “Save some for other people-"
“No,” Max said, ripping open a packet of Twizzlers with her teeth.
Dustin rolled his eyes. “She’s feral.”
“Always has been,” Mike muttered, bumping his knee against Will’s.
Will’s breath caught. It was fine. It was normal. They always sat close. Best friends did that. It didn’t mean-
“Dude,” Dustin said, pointing at their touching legs. “You’re practically sitting in his lap.”
Mike stiffened. “Okay, can you not narrate everything like it’s a nature documentary?”
Lucas put on a fake deep-voiced impression. “Here we observe the rare Wheeler in his natural habitat: being weird about boundaries.”
“I hate all of you,” Mike announced, but he didn’t move an inch away from Will. In fact, he leaned closer. Will wondered if his face looked as warm as it felt.
They settled into their spots, passing snacks around. For a while, everything was easy. Peaceful. The kind of normal they’d all been craving.
El was making the cards float slightly above the blanket - not cheating, she insisted, just practicing - while Dustin accused her of witchcraft.
Max was pretending not to smile at Lucas attempting (and failing) to beat her in a complicated game involving stones, string, and rules she had definitely invented on the spot.
Mike nudged Will with his elbow. “You okay?” he murmured.
Will blinked. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re quiet.”
“So are you.”
Mike’s eyes sparkled, and he shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe I only talk a lot when you’re talking too.”
Will’s heart did an unhelpful little flip, even though he knew that wasn’t true. Mike never shut up. He loved to talk. Still, Will said, “Well, I’m talking now.”
“Good,” Mike whispered, soft as a secret.
Will swallowed. The closeness felt…intense. Heavy with something he didn’t know how to name. He looked away quickly, grabbing a handful of pretzels just to have something to do with his hands.
He wasn’t imagining it, right? The way Mike kept leaning into him like there was a magnetic pull. The way he kept drifting closer, gaze lingering, like he wanted to-
“Will!” Dustin said loudly.
Will jumped. “Huh?”
“You zoned out.”
“I’m not zoned out.”
“You totally are,” Max said, even though she couldn’t see him. “I bet your face did the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing,” she repeated. “The Will thing.”
“That is not helpful,” Will muttered.
Mike frowned, protective. “Leave him alone.”
“Oh my gosh,” Lucas said suddenly, eyes wide. “This is happening, isn’t it?”
Will froze. “What is happening?”
El blinked innocently. “Love.”
Will nearly choked on his pretzel. “WHAT?!”
Max snorted so hard she dropped her Twizzler. “El! You can’t just-”
“I can,” El said. “I am correct.”
Will spluttered. “No, no, she’s not. She just…misunderstood. Mike and I, we’re not… We’re just friends.”
El’s face fell slightly. Dustin looked like he wanted to bash his head against a tree. Lucas covered his eyes. Max stared in Will’s direction with the exact expression she made when someone failed a test. Mike, beside him, went very still.
Very quiet.
Will felt a flutter of unease. “Mike?”
Mike blinked slowly, and then, too casually, reached for the bag of chips. “Yeah. Friends. Obviously.”
Will frowned. Something about the tightness in Mike’s jaw didn’t match the words. But before he could ask, Mike was already pushing himself to his feet.
“I’m gonna get more firewood,” he said. “For the s’mores later.”
“There’s no firepit,” Lucas pointed out.
“I’ll make one.”
“You literally don’t know how.”
“Watch me.”
Mike stalked toward the tree line, muttering under his breath.
Will stared after him, confusion twisting in his stomach. Something felt wrong. Weird wrong. Not-Mike wrong.
He turned back to the others. “Did…did I say something?”
Four heads thunked back in unison.
Max threw her hands up. “Will, he literally just said he loves you! We could hear you, you know.”
“Yeah,” Will said slowly. “Because we’re best friends.”
“No,” Lucas said, very deliberately. “He loves you.”
Dustin dragged his hands down his face. “Will, buddy, listen carefully. Michael. Is. In. Love. With. You.”
Will laughed. “No he’s not.”
“Yes. He is.”
“He’s only said ‘I love you’ a couple times and he means it platonically,” Will insisted.
Max squinted. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You genuinely believe that?”
“Yes!” Will exclaimed, baffled.
Max reached over and placed her hand on Will’s knee. “You are very…blind. Blinder than me.”
The party gauffed at that and Will buried his head in his hands.
Dustin groaned. “You’re so in love with him you can’t even comprehend someone loving you back!”
Will opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. He felt hot all over. “That’s not! I’m not! I’m just…”
Max pointed toward the woods. “Go talk to him, Byers.”
“I… maybe he just needs space…”
“No,” Lucas said, “he needs communication. And possibly a therapist.”
El nodded solemnly. “I can go get him, if you want.”
“No powers,” Dustin warned.
“I wouldn’t.”
“You absolutely would.”
Will stood abruptly. “I’ll go. I’ll talk to him.”
Max smirked. “Finally.”
Will shot her a look but started down the tree line, heart pounding. What was he supposed to say? Hey Mike, sorry I accidentally crushed your possibly romantic declaration of love because I assumed it was platonic for reasons I absolutely refuse to examine?
Perfect. Totally fine.
He found Mike a little ways into the woods, crouched beside a fallen branch, poking it like it had personally offended him.
“Mike?” Will said gently.
Mike’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t look up. “Hey.”
“You okay?”
“Yep.”
“You don’t look okay.”
“I’m great.”
“You’re stabbing a log.”
“It deserves it.”
Will stepped closer, voice softening. “Mike…please look at me?”
Mike hesitated, then slowly turned. His eyes looked glassy. Hurt around the edges. Will’s heart clenched.
Oh.
Oh no.
“Mike,” he whispered, “did I do something wrong?”
Mike shook his head, swallowing hard. “No. You didn’t.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Mike’s voice cracked a little. “You really…you really don’t get it, do you?”
Will blinked. “Get what?”
Mike laughed under his breath, sad, small. “And there it is.”
Will took another step, panic prickling under his skin. “Mike, I want to understand. Please just tell me.”
Mike opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away.
“I can’t,” he whispered. “Not yet. Not…like this.”
Will’s stomach twisted. “Are we okay?”
Mike’s face softened instantly, painfully. He nodded. “Yeah. Will, we’re always okay. I just…”
He exhaled shakily. “I need a minute.”
Will nodded, throat tight. “Okay. I’ll wait. Take your time.”
Mike’s eyes flicked to his, something warm and devastated and full swimming there. “I know.”
Will backed up, giving him space, heart hammering with confusion and a creeping, impossible suspicion he kept shoving away.
Because Mike didn’t love him like that. He couldn’t.
There was no way that Mike was in love with Will back. There was no way that Mike wanted Will the way Will wanted Mike. Mike was straight.
Right?
*****
The new house didn’t smell like home yet.
It smelled like paint and cardboard and cool spring air drifting through the open windows. It was quiet, too quiet, except for the occasional thump of someone carrying a box down the hallway. Joyce and Jonathan were in the kitchen unpacking dishes, El was upstairs exploring her “future sleepover room.” Hop was on the porch pretending he wasn’t emotional about all of this.
And Will was standing in the middle of his new bedroom, surrounded by towers of boxes, peeling shipping tape from his fingers.
Mike was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him, sorting through a stack of books without being asked. He claimed he was “just helping” but the truth was he’d insisted on coming the moment Joyce said Will could start moving things in.
“I have, like, expert-level experience with your stuff,” Mike had said.
Will had rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest. He didn’t want to.
Now, with the sound of birds outside and sunlight spilling across the floorboards, Will felt…strange. Lighter than he’d expected, but also hollow in a way he couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was change. Maybe it was knowing he wouldn’t be sleeping in Mike’s bedroom anymore.
“Hey,” Mike said suddenly, voice soft. “Will.”
Will turned.
Mike was holding something in both hands, a picture frame. A cheap black one Will had stuffed into a box last minute. Inside it was a photo from years ago, a little faded and slightly crooked in the frame. Him and Mike at age twelve, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in front of Castle Byers. Mike’s arm thrown around him like he’d never known how not to touch him. Will laughing, head tilted toward Mike. It was taken a few weeks before Will went missing. Before their worlds changed forever.
He hadn’t even realised he’d packed it.
Mike stared at the picture, thumb brushing the edge of the frame. His expression softened into something warm and aching, something Will didn’t have a name for.
“Shit,” Mike murmured. “We were such babies.”
Will stepped closer, looking over Mike’s shoulder. “We look happy.”
“We were,” Mike said quietly. “We were stupid, and clueless and our biggest problems were bullies at school, but…yeah. We were happy.”
Will swallowed, the memory settling in his chest like something warm.
Mike looked up at him then, really looked. His eyes flicked over Will’s face like he was memorizing him all over again.
“We’re still happy, right?” Mike asked.
Will’s breath caught. “Yeah. Of course.”
Mike still held the picture frame, but his other hand reached out like it had a mind of its own. Two fingers hooked into the hem of Will’s shirt, tugging him just a little closer.
“I always liked this picture,” Mike said.
Will blinked. “You did?”
“Yeah,” Mike whispered. “It’s…us. Before everything. Before we even knew how much we’d end up needing each other.”
Will smiled, small and shy. “We were pretty inseparable.”
Mike laughed softly. “Were?”
Will’s heart stuttered.
But Mike wasn’t teasing now. His expression shifted, open, unguarded in a way that made Will’s stomach flip. He set the picture frame down carefully on the bed, then stood up, stepping into Will’s space until there was barely a breath between them.
“Hey,” Mike whispered again, voice shaking just a little. “Can I…tell you something?”
Will nodded. “Always.”
Mike exhaled, shoulders rising and falling like he was working up courage.
“I love you,” he said.
Will’s chest tightened. His lips parted on instinct, ready to say it back like he always did, like he’d done over and over without ever understanding what Mike meant.
But Mike kept talking.
“No, wait. I mean, I love you.” His voice cracked around the word. “Not just as, like, my best friend. Not as the guy who saved my life like ten times. Not as, whatever I pretended it was.”
Will froze.
Mike’s hands came up, trembling slightly, cupping Will’s elbows, then sliding down to hold his wrists, gentle and grounding.
“I’m in love with you,” Mike said, a tiny breathless laugh leaving him. “I have been for a while. I just… kept messing up how I said it. I thought if I said it enough times you’d just…know. I thought you knew.”
Will’s pulse roared in his ears.
He could hear his own breathing, short, unsteady. He looked at Mike’s face, flushed and hopeful and terrified. Looked at the picture on the bed. Looked back into Mike’s eyes.
And something shifted inside him. Something clicked.
Oh.
Oh.
It rushed through him all at once - every touch, every lingering look, every “I love you” whispered too softly. Every moment Mike hovered close enough for Will to feel his heartbeat. Every time Mike had chosen him, again and again and again.
Will’s lips parted in a soft, stunned breath. “Mike…”
Mike swallowed hard, voice barely audible. “If you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. I can handle it. I just needed you to know. You deserve to know.”
Will didn’t speak. He stepped forward instead. Slow, steady, certain.
Mike inhaled sharply as Will lifted one hand and touched his cheek, light and trembling. Mike leaned into the touch instantly, eyes fluttering shut.
“Mike,” Will whispered, his voice cracking. “You…you should’ve told me.”
Mike huffed a tiny, breathless laugh. “I tried.”
Will smiled - a small, shaking thing - and then he leaned in. His lips brushed Mike’s. Soft. Barely there. A question.
Mike answered by closing the distance, kissing him fully, warm and gentle and impossibly tender. His hands slid to Will’s waist, pulling him closer. Will curled a hand behind Mike’s neck, feeling him tremble.
It was nothing like the forced, desperate moments after battles or the adrenaline-soaked almost-touches they’d shared for years.
It was simple. Real. Perfect.
Will pressed harder against Mike, clinging to him as he moved his lips softly against Mike’s. He loved him. Hell, did he love him. He could stay here forever, pressed against Mike. He never wanted to be anywhere else.
“I love you,” he mumbled against Mike’s lips.
Mike made a sound like he was dying and yanked Will closer, deepening the kiss. Will’s lips parted and he moaned softly when Mike’s tongue slipped inside his mouth. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His heart was beating frantically.
Mike. Mike. Mike.
When they finally broke apart, foreheads still touching, Mike let out a shaky laugh.
“You kissed me,” he whispered, awestruck.
Will laughed too. Bright, breathless. “You kissed me back.”
Mike grinned like the sun coming up. “I’ve been waiting, like, forever.”
Will’s heart swelled until he thought it might burst. “Me too,” he said softly.
Because now that he saw it, now that he finally understood, there was no going back. He kissed Mike again, slower this time, deeper, hands sliding into his hair.
And in a quiet new bedroom in a quiet new house, surrounded by unpacked boxes and sunlight and the echo of old memories, Will Byers finally let himself say what he’d felt all along.
“I’m in love with you too.”
Mike’s answering smile was the most beautiful thing Will had ever seen.