Chapter Text
“Mike! What’s up?” The slurred voice of his childhood best friend came through his phone. Mike furrowed his brow, it was one thirty in the morning, and Will sounded drunk.
“Will? Are you okay? Have you been drinking?” Mike immediately asked. Something felt off. There were red flashing sirens in his head as he heard shuffling in the background. “Will?” He pressed, “what’s going on?”
“Mike, Mike, calm down! I just wanted to talk to you!” Will replied too cheerily for Mike’s taste. Still, he couldn’t help as lip curled up into a little smile until he heard some… guy in the background asking for Will. His eyes narrowed as he tried to understand the words, ear smushed into the phone. “Carlton, it’s just Mike! Say hi—“ his voice faded as he probably set the phone down to talk to the other guy. Who the fuck is Carlton? And why is he with Will, drunk Will?
“Will? Hello?” He asked tersely, just about ready to rip his hair out if he didn’t get a response. Nothing about this was okay, Will should be in bed and sleeping, not drunk off his ass with some random dude!
The seconds passed tensely as Mike waited for Will to pick up the phone again, but he never did. Mike would hang up and call again, but Will’s phone wasn’t in the goddamn receiver. He groaned to himself as he slammed the phone down, feeling like he was going to combust. Part of him wanted to call Jonathan and get to the bottom of this, because Will should know better than to do something so… so risky!
Deep down Mike knew he was being ridiculous, but something about Will made him feel absolutely crazy. He just wanted to tuck him into his bed and cover his body like a human shield. The world was a cruel place, especially to people like Will, people who were special. But Mike knew Will hated to be doted on, so he just had to bite his tongue and go the fuck to bed, because God knows Will would actually slap the shit out of him if he drove up to his dorm right now.
Of all the things Mike hated about his life, the distance from Will drove him craziest of all. Will thought he was being insane when he wanted to go to the same college as him, it being an art school and all. So… Mike just settled for the next best thing, a school close enough so he could drive to see Will whenever they wanted.
Maybe he was wrong, and maybe he was too clingy, but he couldn’t make himself regret his decision on the nights Will would call him after a particularly rough nightmare and he got to shoulder that burden with him, holding him tight and close on his twin bed. But as of recently, those calls became fewer and far between. Mike should be happy for Will, happy that he’s finally healing after all that he’s been through, but… part of him, the part that he hates about himself most, wished Will needed him more. They used to see each other an amount that others might find concerning (his sister called it codependent), but nowadays it felt like they were almost drifting apart.
Every time Mike envisioned his future, Will was right by his side, through the good and the bad. They’d share each other's bad moods, through the trauma and the mundane. That’s what he wanted most, really, the quiet moments with Will. It was unfair to assume that Will would just follow him for the rest of his life, or let Mike follow him, he guessed.
God, Mike thought, I need to get a hold of myself. He’s going to be fine, and he’ll call me tomorrow morning and explain what the hell is going on. He groaned to himself as he begrudgingly got in his bed, fighting with his pillows until he was semi-comfortable, ignoring the aching hole right in his chest. So much for getting a good night's rest.
As it reached noon the next day, Mike realized there’d be no call. The sinking feeling in his chest returned with a vengeance as he sat on his counter, waiting like a dog. It was a Sunday, so it’s not like Will was too busy to grace him with a conversation.
Finally fed up, Mike dialed the number he knew by heart and waited as it rang, rang, and rang some more. His free hand tapped restlessly on the countertop as he waited. Will didn’t answer. He really didn’t answer. Mike bit his lip, itching to just grab his keys and break the speed limit for what he deemed a good cause, until the phone finally, blissfully, rang.
“Will?” He asked the second he picked the godforsaken thing up. Jesus, he was practically vibrating out of his skin.
“Hey, Mike,” he responded drowsily, sounding like he just shuffled out of bed. Mike sighed in relief. He was seriously going to get premature wrinkles with how much Will worried the shit out of him.
“Were you sleeping?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry, what’s up?” He responded, sounding no more alert than before.
“What’s up? I thought you had gotten alcohol poisoning, or worse, kidnapped or something! You never called me back last night,” Mike chided, finally feeling sympathy for how he acted towards his mother his entire childhood.
“Kidnapped? Seriously, Mike? I don’t even remember calling you,” he snapped out, his annoyance bleeding through the line. Mike could imagine his face right now, all pursed lips and furrowed brows, hand rubbing his temple like he wanted to face palm so badly it hurt.
“Sorry,” he conceded. “But you called me at like, one thirty last night, and then some dude came and you just totally left me hanging!” He retorted. Mike was being perfectly rational and he knew it.
“Oh. Mike… that was Carlton, my boyfriend. I thought I had told you,” he trailed off like he didn’t know how to finish his sentence. Boyfriend? Boyfriend he conveniently forgot to mention to Mike? He swallowed so hard it hurt as his heart started racing out of his chest. Why did he feel like he just got hit by a freight train? It was fine, Will deserved to get the things he wanted.
“Boyfriend? Since when? Um, that’s cool,” he replied awkwardly, wanting to fucking bang his head into the wall. What is wrong with him? That’s cool?
“Cool, right… um, he asked me out a couple of weeks ago,” he confessed, and Mike couldn’t stop himself from feeling betrayed.
“A couple of weeks ago? Wow, uh…” he paused, not knowing what to say that wasn’t why didn’t you tell me? What does this guy have that I don’t? “That’s really great. I’m happy for you.” He sounded fake even in his own ears, and he knew that’d just make Will shut down and tell him even less. “Sorry, I’m serious, I swear,” he quickly stammered into the phone before he even had a chance to reply.
“Thank you, Mike. He’s a really great guy, and,” he paused, almost as if to sigh dreamily. “I think this is good. For me,” he finished clumsily, but he sounded undeniably… happy. If Mike felt sick before, that didn’t make a dent to how his stomach completely bottomed out now.
“Good. That’s good,” he got out through gritted teeth, not knowing what to do or what to say or how to feel. He couldn’t lash out, he had no right to, but fuck was it hard. He wanted this conversation to be over, and it seemed like Will did too with the way the line went silent.
“Well… sorry for worrying you, but I’ve got to go. Carlton and I are going to get breakfast, so… bye, Mike,” Will said quietly. Mike could only grimace at the words, feeling like he might actually throw up.
“…Bye, Will,” he said before hanging up as quickly as possible. He tried to breathe steadily out of his nose as he slid off of the counter, pacing back and forth through his shitty kitchen before finally throwing himself onto his even shittier couch. God, he hated this. He fucking hated college and his nasty dorm and his filthy roommate and his stupid parents and himself.
He knew this would happen eventually. He even wanted it to happen! For Will to get his happy ending, that epic love story every person dreamed of. He just never really… pictured it before. This was Will’s first boyfriend, and Mike was so used to being his first choice in basically everything that of course he’d be a little put out, right?
It’s not fair to act like Will would wait forever. He knew that. So why did it hurt so bad? Will, his first and best friend, the boy he had slowly fallen in love with, had a boyfriend that wasn’t him. Mike curled into the couch and covered his eyes with a shaky hand. Why couldn’t he just be ready? Why couldn’t he tell Will how he felt?
He kept every letter he didn’t send while Will was in California. Every single pathetic letter, tainted with yearning and desperation. Love, Mike. Love, Mike. Love, Mike. He hated himself.
He wanted to be normal, for his dad to look at him instead of through him, to talk to him in words that weren’t tinged with disdain. Which was stupid, because his dad was the stupidest so why would he want approval from that asshole anyway? He just wanted to go to class and not feel dread crawling up his spine every single time someone looked at him a little too long, like they knew his dirty little secret.
He loved El, except he didn’t, and he never had, and he continued to lead her on until she finally figured it out and broke up with him. “It is okay that we do not love each other in the way we want to.”
It wasn’t fair. He still feels terrible about it. He really did want to want her, and he tried too, but he just couldn’t. It made him feel sick every time he kissed her and touched her arms and back and hands in the way people who loved each other did. He felt even sicker when he saw Will’s face in hers. He never told her.
He’d never be normal. A piece of him died when Will did in that quarry. Even after he came back, he still felt wrong. “You see, Michael? See what happens?” He shut his eyes tight and pressed his hand over his face tighter.
But here he was. In love with William Byers. Not doing anything about it because he was scared, even though Will was never scared. He knew Will liked him, at least at one point in time, but Mike was never brave enough to take that leap. He just couldn’t, and now it was too late.
He felt secure when the Byers lived in their basement, where they toed the line between friendship and relationship like it was an Olympic sport, and even when they were back in the cabin while they finished out high school. But now? At separate colleges? He knew he fucked up. He hurt Will. Let that beautiful heart grow cold and bitter, and now he was away from Mike and had other people who would love and appreciate him the way he should be. But they couldn’t love him, not really, not in the way Mike knew he could.
So Mike did as he always did, that lame cycle of fucking up and begging for forgiveness. He tried to reach out, see Will as often as possible, chase after him until one day they’d maybe be able to start something not tainted with resentment or fear. Except now he was officially too late. But this Carlton guy wasn’t permanent. There’s no way he was right for Will, no way he could take care of Will the way Mike did.
Mike would make things right. He just needed time. And he didn’t mind waiting.