Chapter Text
Mike Wheeler cleared his throat, which immediately made the rest of the basement go quiet from their heated discussions. Will stopped sketching, putting his pencil down, Dustin stopped mid-argument, Lucas leaned back with his arms crossed, Max sitting on the floor against the couch stopped arguing with Dustin, and Eleven looked up from the cards spread across the table.
“So,” Mike said, rubbing his hands together like he was bracing himself, “my mom got a call this morning. From my aunt. In Derry.”
Dustin blinked. “Derry as in Stephen King Derry?”
Mike shot him a look. “It’s just a town.” He hesitated, eyes flicking to the basement door, then to Will, then back to the table. “Anyways, my cousin Richie is coming to stay with us. For a while.”
“Richie?? The one who just like you?” Lucas interupts.
The party had met Richie once, long ago when Mike’s family came to visit, he was around their age and seemed to get along with everyone nicely, sharing the same interests. In movies, in comics, and they were all suckers for arcade games. Richie had gotten the closest with Will, those two were practically inseparable, up until Richie had to go back to Derry.
Mike remembers, remembers how his best friend had gotten closer with his cousin rather than him in the span of a few days, how the feeling of jealousy ate him from the inside. Yet he never said anything, he didn’t want to make it weird and he was too young to notice that it meant anything at all, he also remembers how will acted the day after Richie left, quiet. Well more then usual.
“Yeah, him.” Mike says, “although we do not look similar.”
“A while like a week,” Dustin continuous on, “or a while while?”
“Like… indefinite,” Mike muttered. He began pacing up and down.
Lucas frowned. “Why?”
Mike exhaled slowly. “There were… problems back home. School stuff. Town stuff. My aunt said it’d be better if he was somewhere else for a bit.”
The room felt heavier after that.
Mike continued pacing the room filled with that eerie silence, before Max spoke up.
“Stop pacing, you’re stressing us out” she snaps.
Mike stops, looking at them, letting out a long, deep sigh, before he takes a seat next to Will on the couch.
“Sorry..” he says to no one in particular.
Will had been quiet the entire time, fingers twisting together in his lap. He watched Mike carefully, like he was trying to read something between the words. When no one else spoke, Will finally did.
“Mike,” he said softly, “is this why you’ve been weird all day?”
Mike stiffened. “I haven’t been weird.”
“You have,” Will said, not accusing, just honest. “You didn’t answer me earlier. And—” He hesitated. “I thought maybe we could talk. About… you know. About us.”
Mike’s jaw tightened.
“This isn’t the time, Will,” he said quickly.
Will blinked. “I’m just saying—” he tried to reason.
“I said not now,” Mike snapped, sharper than he meant to. He looked away almost immediately, guilt flashing across his face, but he didn’t take it back. “Okay? There’s already a lot going on.”
Will fell quiet.
Mike noticed.
He felt guilty of course, Will was his best friend. He didn’t mean to hurt him. Will was his best friend, and that was the problem. He was pushing him away he couldn’t bear talking to will, threatening to ruin their friendship.
Eleven glanced between them, sensing the tension, but said nothing. Max noticed it too, but thought better to keep quiet for now, Dustin awkwardly cleared his throat, and Lucas stared at the floor like he’d suddenly become very interested in it.
“Problems like what?” Lucas asked after a beat, clearly trying to move things along.
Mike opened his mouth to explain—
—and the basement door exploded open with a loud bang.
The stairs rattled as someone barreled down them, boots slamming, a voice echoing through the basement before they even came into view.
“MICHAEL WHEELER,” the voice shouted, breathless and dramatic, “tell your mom she forgot to warn me about the creepy bike funeral outside your house.”
The boys froze.
A second later, a lanky kid with wild hair, a crooked grin, big bottle—lensed glasses and way too much confidence skidded into the basement, not to mention how alarmingly similar his face was to Mikes. His arms thrown wide like he owned the place.
Richie Tozier had arrived.
The boys froze.
“Wow,” the kid said, looking around. “So this is the legendary Wheeler basement. I gotta say, I expected more skulls. Or at least one ritual circle.”
Mike stared at him. “Richie?”
“In the flesh,” Richie said, pointing finger guns at the room. “Well. Mostly flesh. Long story. Involves clowns.”
Dustin’s eyes widened. He leaned toward Lucas and whispered, “he looks like Mike, only if Mike never learned to shut up.”
Lucas nodded slowly suppressing a giggle. “He was right they don’t look similar… they look identical.”
“Like, twins..” Max chimed in, her gaze drifting between the two similar faces decoding their similar features.
El sat there, astonished. Studying the two closely.
It was true. Same dark hair. Same sharp nose. Same expressive, annoyed-by-default face — except Richie wore it like a challenge instead of a defense and his clothes of course, we have Mike Wheeler on one hand dressed fair and decadent, and Richie Tozier who looks like the circus came by and threw up on him and fun punched him the face, with his bright Hawaiian shirts.
Eleven tilted her head, studying him. “He is… loud.”
“THANK you,” Richie said immediately. “Finally, someone appreciates my strongest quality.”
Mike groaned. “You didn’t have to come down here like that. You could’ve knocked.”
“I did knock,” Richie said. “With my foot. Repeatedly. The door just… surrendered.” he shrugged.
He turned in a slow circle, taking everyone in. “Okay, roll call. We’ve got—” he pointed at Dustin “—curly science gremlin,” at Lucas “—judgmental but cool,” “then we have the fiery one, cool but hot tempered” he shoots finger guns at Max who just shrugs with acknowledgement. Richie continues turning then pauses at Eleven, squinting. “And you are?”
Eleven held his stare. “Eleven.”
Richie nodded solemnly. “Single-name icon. Love that for you.”
Mike stepped between them. “Okay, that’s enough. You’re staying here, remember? Try not to freak everyone out.”
Richie gasped, Hand clutching his chest as if Mike’s words had wounded him. “Me? Freak people out? Michael, please. I am a delight.”
“You just yelled your way into my basement!”
“And yet,” Richie said, grinning, “here we are.”
He spins dramatically, his eyes wandering, searching.
“If I’m not mistaken, there should be one more of you—“ he begins, Just before his eyes meet Wills.
“Ah, William” Richie acknowledges with a wide grin “—quiet artist energy, respect, a pleasure like always.”
“Still digging that bowl-cut Byers” he winks, a second not too late.
Will feels his cheeks heat from the personal acknowledgment, after all, it’s been too long since he had seen the Richie Tozier himself.
All Richie can think is how cute Will Byers is, just sitting there. I mean come on look at the boy. He smiles to himself satisfied.
Mike suddenly pointed between them. “Hold on. Is anyone else seeing this? Richie are you teasing will??” His voice sounding more panicked and defensive then he liked.
“I’d say it’s more flirting then teasing” Max snorts, Mike turns to her and staring as if she cursed his entire family lineage.
“Flirting?” He says through a clenched jaw.
“Oh you’ll know when I’m flirting mikey, you’ll know” Richie grins widely, laughing as if all was good.
Lucas smirked. “Oh shits about to go down, give it five minutes.”
“Five?” Max murmured. “It’s already happening.”
Richie leaned closer to Mike. “So. These your friends? Because you didn’t mention the dungeon vibes.”
“It’s not a dungeon,” Mike said defensively. “It’s a basement.”
“With a table. And cards. And trauma,” Richie said. “Yeah, checks out.”
Mike clenched his jaw again. “You don’t know anything about this place.”
Richie’s smile flickered — just for a second — before snapping back into place. “Sure I do. It’s where the weird stuff happens.”
The room went quiet again.
Mike opened his mouth to snap back—
—and stopped.
Because for the first time since Richie had arrived, they weren’t just similar in looks.
They were similar in the way they both knew when to stop talking.