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Mike really doesn’t understand why he’s currently sandwiched between so many, too many sweaty, hot bodies.
There’s extremely loud 80s music filtering throughout the house and bouncing off the walls surrounding him. It’s almost like he can feel every song lyric rattling within his skull, the words pressing up against his eardrums and threatening them to explode with each beat drop.
His neck is sweaty from the overly humid atmosphere he stands in, and his shirt sticks to him like a second skin. A cup of something absolutely horrid is uncomfortably being held in his clammy palm, but it’s all practically background noise to the growing buzz flowing through him.
Without really thinking, Mike lifts the cup and downs the rest of the disgusting liquid in hopes it’ll relieve the last little remnants of tension that sit between his shoulder blades.
People continue to pass by in hurried, stumbling motions either to the dance floor or outside to fresh air. The later option doesn’t sound too bad right now, cool air would feel amazing in contrast to the extreme heat coursing through his body currently. Mike’s about to push himself off the counter and towards the general direction of the back door when something catches his eye.
Well, not necessarily something, but rather someone.
Will.
Oh, right. That’s why he’s here.
His alcohol fuzzed brain completely forgot the entire reason why he’s currently both sweating his ass off and borderline drunk.
Racking his intoxicated memory, Mike faintly remembers this morning. Waking up and briefly greeting Will like he always does in their shared apartment’s kitchen. Before both of them inevitably disappear to their classes and barely speak for the rest of the day.
It’s been like that a lot lately, actually. The barely talking, hanging out. It had started small, the way all of their fights somehow do. Something stupid turning gradually into something loaded. Then a missed study session at the library, a forgotten promise of having a movie night. Mike accusing Will of pulling away, but Will firing back that Mike never seems to actually care until he's afraid of losing him. And well, didn’t Will hit the nail on the head with that one.
The underlying tension that’s been slowly, but insistently building since Will started hanging out with some guy, well not actually some guy now but instead Will’s boyfriend, might be the cause of it. The ultimate reason why old wounds are being dragged up and left bleeding heavily between them.
To say it’s been an unpleasant last couple months is an understatement.
Although he would never admit it out loud, or especially to Will, Mike loathes the guy.
Carlton.
Hell, even thinking his name makes Mike’s entire body shudder with annoyance. Mike remembers when he began coming around to the apartment just a month into their sophomore year here at NYU. He thought it was going to be a one-time thing, just Will’s friend that was stopping by to study or help with something art related-
Which that thought alone also might’ve quickly pissed Mike off because Will always comes to him for new ideas or reassurance when his art is involved, but that’s besides the point.
But then Cartlton kept showing up over, and over, and over.
Only a handful of weeks went by before Will told Mike, way to casually mind you, that he and Carlton were officially seeing each other.
They were dating.
A couple.
Boyfriends.
The entire concept of it still makes Mike’s fingers curl at his sides and blood boil low in his veins. Who is Carlton to think he can just up and walk in here and claim Will as his own?
He isn’t for the taking where Mike is concerned.
That position has been reserved strictly for him and him alone since they were five years old.
Well, it was, until it somehow wasn’t almost three months ago.
Mike will admit, he’s never been good at expressing his feelings. He’s even worse at understanding them. So, it wasn’t until everything he didn’t even know he wanted was taken from him that he realized-
Oh…
Oh, that’s jealousy brewing right in the pit of my stomach and bubbling up the walls of my throat like fire.
Inevitably, Mike slowly began to push himself away. He thought Will wouldn’t notice at first, they already weren’t really hanging out with each other once Carlton began visiting, and their fights only grew more heated with passing time.
Mike truly believed the more he pushed himself away, the less it would hurt when he would occasionally catch Will’s eye in the hallway or briefly pass him a clipped smile across the living room before disappearing back into his room.
It only has hurt him more though.
And it’s definitely been confusing Will.
Mike can tell by the way his best friend's facial features lower just slightly when he glances at him, or how there’s a dullness to those perfect, breathtaking green eyes as they stare at Mike. Almost looking like they’re pleading with him to explain what’s going on, why he’s become so distant.
Once again though, Mike’s not good with his feelings. There’s no amount of courage he’s been able to build up over the months to really tell Will the reasoning for his absence. His jealousy.
Because, as much as Mike is selfish with the things he holds close, he can’t bring himself to be selfish over this. Over Will.
Will, who’s literally been to hell and back, and somehow is still standing here. Surviving, living. Going on each day with a new sense of purpose that keeps his head held high and a smile on his face. And, as much as Mike despises it, Carlton is a key factor in keeping that encaptivating, bright grin alight.
Not himself.
So, Mike hasn’t said anything or expressed his opinions, feelings, regrets- he’d much rather exist in a world where he gets to see Will smile openly and freely even if he isn’t the one causing it. He really did think his plan was working, that he and Will could somehow coexist in this catastrophic bubble of tension, until this morning came along and swept every part of said plan out from under Mike’s feet.
Like he was in a free fall and of course Will was there waiting to catch him.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
“Would you like to come to a party tonight?” Will casually asked around a mouthful of cereal.
Mike practically spluttered the sip of orange juice he was taking. An unsteady cough spat out from his lungs and immediately he looked up across the kitchen island to where Will was standing with his back pressed against the counter.
“What-” The words shakily fell between them, tightening and constricting Mike’s airway. Will gave him that confused look again, eyebrows pressing low on his forehead as he stared.
“Um yeah… Like a normal, probably annoyingly hot, college party.”
Leave it to Will, even after weeks of hardly speaking, to bring up those little details that they just know about each other. Like they’re etched into each other's bones. Like how Mike absolutely hates how parties make his skin boil and become too hot under the fabric of his t-shirt. And of course, Will just knows that. Brings it up like it’s second nature.
Has Will and Carlton reached this mutual understanding of each other? This unexplainable ability of knowing the person across from you so well, that you might even know them better than you know yourself?
Does Carlton know that Will absolutely hates pineapple on pizza?
Does Carlton know that Will only uses colored pencils or crayons when coloring his sketches, never markers because he can’t stand the way they bleed through the paper and can never correctly blend with each other properly.
Does Carlton know that Will’s favorite flowers are sunflowers? Not only because of how they personify the beauty of the sun’s radiance, but also because they’re his favorite shade of yellow.
Does Carlton know that Will has a total of thirteen moles covering the expanse of his body that Mike has been able to memorize and map for years now.
Does Carlton know about Will’s nightmares, and the ever-lasting scar that the Upside Down and Vecna have left behind?
Does Carlton know?
Does he know?
Does he-
“Mike!” Will shouted and immediately Mike was pulled out of his reeling mind.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” He attempted to fake obliviousness. Will didn’t look convinced.
“Are you ok?” Will questioned then, pressing his skeptical gaze harder onto Mike. Like he was trying to crack open and look deep within his already breaking soul for some sort of answer.
It sent a shiver up the entirety of Mike’s spine. Being looked and prodded at by someone who at one point saw him so clearly. How it used to be as easy as breathing the air around them.
Now, Mike could tell Will only stared at him with anything but understanding, and that was entirely his own doing.
“Oh, yeah! No- yeah I’m great!” Mike hurriedly rushed the words out, practically tripping over them and holding up a sign above his head that says:
“Actually, I’m anything but ok, but I don’t want anyone to know, especially not you.”
Will continued to look at him though, worry evident between the crease of his brows. The cereal bowl he was holding abandoned momentarily as he stepped forward so he was mirroring Mike’s position on the other side of the small kitchen island.
Mike couldn’t meet Will’s gaze, so instead he watched as the other boy’s elbows came to rest effortlessly on the surface across from him. If he shifted a couple inches, their knuckles would brush.
“You sure?” Will asked again. Pressing lightly, as though Mike was a hibernating bear and Will was cautiously prodding at his side to see if it’ll finally wake him up. “You’ve seemed off lately.”
Damn you Will Byers and your ability to read Mike Wheeler like he’s an open fucking book.
“I promise, everything's fine.” Mike responded, trying his best to sound genuine. Will still didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he finally gave up on his questioning before a small smile peeked at the corner of his mouth.
“So, will you go to the party?” Will said.
“What time?” Mike countered.
“Like, 10:00ish.”
“Free booze?”
“Well obviously.”
Mike pretended to ponder it for a moment. His tongue pressing into the side of his cheek in fake thought. It pulled a soft laugh from Will’s lips that Mike immediately wanted to hear again.
“Come on! We haven’t gone to the same party together in forever.”
Well, there’s a pretty significant reason for that.
“Is it a far walk? Because I absolutely will not trek for miles in the cold-”
“I swear it’s literally just down the block.” Will cut him off before Mike could complain any longer. “It’s one of my friends from my art history lecture. Meaning, there probably won’t be a ton of people there crowding around you every second so you can actually have fun.”
Why does he have to put up such a good argument?
“You promise I won’t have five different bodies pressing against me at all times no matter where I step? Because I’m not having a redo of the Halloween party from freshman year.” Mike doesn’t know how they got that many people inside of one house. It wasn’t even claustrophobia that threatened Mike during that party. It was pure suffocation.
“Well, I make no promises for the dance floor…”
“Ha-ha. It’d have to take a lot more than alcohol to get me out on the dance floor, Byers.”
“Oh yeah, like what?”
Mike watched as Will’s eyes filled with something daring then. A mischievous grin etched across his face as he asked. Mike felt a pang in his chest as he imagined those same green eyes on a much younger version of the boy across from him.
You.
Always you.
“Oh, shut up.” Mike laughed out as he glanced back down to where their knuckles were even closer to touching. Every single nerve inside his body begged for him to reach out.
“Maybeee…” Great, Will still wasn’t giving this up. “One of the cool, hip artsy girls will find your brooding somehow endearing and ask you to dance with them.”
Will was teasing him. Mike knew Will was teasing, and still it didn’t do anything to stop the way his entire body went rigid at those words. At the idea of dancing with someone else- a girl.
Mike’s stomach was tying up into knots simply at the idea of it.
Will must’ve noticed, he always notices. He’s observant in a way that should probably concern Mike, but instead makes him feel seen. Has made him feel seen since they were children.
“Oh, um-” Will faltered, backtracking his words and fumbling over his attempt at the right ones. “I mean, you don’t have to dance. Not with anybody actually. I know you don’t like to, I was just joking.”
I would though. Mike thinks.
I would like to dance, I think. If it meant dancing with you.
Mike kept his mouth firmly shut. He could feel the sentences pushing against his lips, threatening to slip out.
“Sorry.” Will muttered after a minute of silence went by.
Mike hated himself for making Will think he had to apologize for something that’s not even his fault. For something so out of his control, and entirely in Mike’s.
“No, it’s ok. I’m sorry, you have nothing to apologize for.” Mike reassured in the space between them.
It felt as though all the tension from over the months came slamming down almost ten times harder than before.
As though even Will could feel it, he stepped back and picked up his momentarily forgotten cereal. Like putting more distance between each other helped loosen the string being tied taut around them.
If anything, it only tightened harder.
“Also-” Will had his back turned to Mike then. Placing his dirty bowl in the sink with a small clank. Maybe having his back to Mike gave him the courage to say what they both know is only going to drive their growing issues farther towards the upcoming cliff.
Mike knew where this was going. He knew all of this was too good to be true. The concept of him and Will, just him and Will going to a party at some other art majors house was a pipe dream because in reality someone else was going to be there.
How he’s always there now.
“Carlton’s going to be there.”
Those five words practically warped up and through Mike’s chest with a constricting pulse. For someone always described as being the heart, Mike couldn’t feel less detached from the title. Not when his own already fragile one felt like it was finally starting to break.
“Cool.”
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
Mike stares.
And stares.
And stares so hard that he feels his eyes crossing behind his glasses and for a split second bile rises at the base of his throat. He quickly swallows it though, and instantly is pushing past bodies to get another vile mixture of alcohol in his empty cup.
Will’s just in the next room over. His lean, yet strong frame radiant against the flashing lights of the dance floor he’s currently swaying around on.
Without so much as thinking about the horrible taste that’s going to coat his tongue, Mike slams the cup back. His throat burns as the mixture goes straight to his stomach, but he doesn’t care. He half-mindingly enjoys the burn. How it manages to take his mind away, even just briefly, from the image replaying over and over again behind his sagging eyelids.
Carlton’s hands possessively gripping either side of Will’s waist. His face pressed firmly against the other boy’s neck. His body grinding along with Will’s own to the beat of the music surrounding them on the dance floor.
Before he knows it, almost two more cups of spiked punch slide down Mike’s throat.
His entire body feels like it’s actually on fire in seconds, but he’s either starting to become drunk enough that he doesn’t care, or maybe he’s just mad enough that the heat is becoming an afterthought.
Although Will had said earlier that this party shouldn’t be too crowded, he turned out to be completely wrong. The entire house is practically filled to the brim with more than just a handful of art majors. No, instead it feels like the entire damn campus is here.
And Mike is stuck in the middle of it all right fucking now.
His own personal hell that has the devil residing miles under the surface taunting him into drinking away every bitter feeling flooding throughout his body.
“Hey, Wheeler right?” A voice suddenly half-shouts from somewhere to his right. Mike jumps at the sudden feeling of someone tapping his elbow.
He turns to look at whoever has begun to crowd into his space. It’s another guy, similar in his height and vaguely sporting the same haircut as Dustin. It takes a moment, maybe two, before Mike’s muddled brain begins to recognize more of his features and realizes they share several classes together.
“Yeah, but Mike’s fine.” He responds, the alcohol definitely helping with the air of friendliness he’s currently exhibiting. “Harley? No, wait Harper?”
“Close, it’s actually Hansen, but Colin’s fine.” The guy, Colin, laughs. He takes his eyes off of Mike for a moment to glance around the kitchen they’re currently in. “It’s kind of stuffy in here. You want to join the rest of my friends and I outside? We talked about maybe playing a game or something.” He offers. Nice, too nice in a way that makes Mike want to turn in the opposite direction.
Mike ponders it for a second though. Inevitably, his attention falls right back onto a certain brunette still effortlessly gliding across the dance floor in the room over. From here, he really does look like he owns it. Everyone else only dancing there as well because he’s granting them the space to move around him.
Watching Will dance is a completely intoxicating experience. Stronger than any alcohol Mike has put into his body tonight. A drug he thinks he could take over and over again, and still not be addicted to it enough. It’s hypnotizing, all encompassing, and entirely overwhelming.
Mike’s hands twitch at his sides as they physically ache to be holding onto any part of that drug he can get.
But he knows, even in his drunken state, that the drug he desires so much doesn’t want him.
“Sure, after you.” Mike ultimately decides, giving one last longing look over his shoulder before following behind Colin outside.
“Everyone, this is Mike!” Colin quickly introduces Mike to a small group of people that stand in their own tight knit circle near the grass. Some more of them he recognizes from classes, others are completely new faces.
They all get to know each other and talk about everything yet nothing as minutes pass by. Mike actually is laughing at one point. Drunk enough to not fully understand the reasoning behind it, but knowing that whatever made him laugh was funny enough to have one of his hands falling to grab his knee as he doubled over.
It’s freeing, in a way.
Laughing, letting go.
The alcohol’s definitely helping, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that for the first time in months, Mike is feeling somewhat happy.
He doesn’t really know when they all ended up sitting down in a large circle facing each other, but now there’s a bottle of something absolutely vile being passed around like a game of hot potato. Whoever it lands on after the beat drops from the music still blasting inside is forced to take a long sip out of its neck, and then the game continues on again.
Mike hates to admit it landed on him a total of three times before the game was put on a sudden pause after someone in the circle retreated to the nearby grass to expel every content of alcohol they must’ve drank tonight.
It’s safe to say the game was quickly over after that.
“How about truth or dare?” One of the girls -Lily- he thinks, proposes a couple feet away from Mike.
“Yes!” Someone immediately agrees and that’s enough to push several of the others to nod along that they’ll play as well.
Now, Mike’s never been one to enjoy truth or dare. Mostly because he hates not only the idea of being forced to do something against his will, but also having his brain racked with questions he more often than not doesn’t want to give an answer to.
Screw the drunken part of his brain that thinks there’s a possibility this could be fun.
“Sure, why not.” Mike finds himself saying before even fully registering what he’s signing himself up for.
The remaining members of the group that want to play condense to a smaller circle and the girl from earlier that thought of the game wastes no time in beginning it.
“Colin! Truth or dare?” She challenges.
“Truth, want to start this game out easy.”
Everyone, including Mike, watches as Lily thinks about what question she wants to ask. Roughly a minute passes by before she’s leaning forward with a smirk.
“Is it true you were secretly seeing Marissa Laughlin last semester?” Colin physically flinches.
Mike doesn’t know who the hell Marissa Laughlin is, but by the looks on most of the other people’s faces in the circle, he can tell this is a very serious question.
“Um- maybe… I mean- yeah. Yeah I was.” Colin says, obviously flustered. Annoyance and defeat consume his entire face. Lily smiles with a triumphant grin.
Well, if that’s supposed to be easy, then what the hell is considered hard?
A couple more rounds fly by after that.
There was a specific dare that had one of the guys in the group being forced to strip himself all the way down to his underwear and jump into the frigid water of the janky pool set up towards the back of the fenced in yard.
Words can not describe how grateful Mike is that he’s currently sitting dry as he previously watched the drenched guy hurriedly run inside with his arms wrapped tightly around himself in hopes that it'll bring some form of warmth to his body.
Another girl from the circle had abandoned the game very suddenly after, chasing behind him and disappearing into the house.
It left only eight players remaining, and Mike had yet to be asked a question.
Practically every set of eyes fell onto him at that moment. Knowing looks of mischievous, drunken grins forming over their faces.
Mike felt his breath catch.
“Alright Mike, truth or dare?” Lily was asking again.
Unlike Will’s eyes, hers held absolutely no warmth. No, instead they were ice-cold blue and narrowing in such a calculating manner it caused the hairs on the back of Mike’s neck to stand.
He could go the easy route. Pick truth and probably get asked some stupid question that wouldn’t satisfy most of the remaining players considering all the bullshit they’ve already had to answer or do. But, that voice in the back of Mike’s head, the one that’s always subconsciously there and waiting-
What if she asks you something too personal?
What if she wants an answer to something you’re not ready to give?
What if she asks you if you’re…
“Dare.” Mike bites out.
A small wave of ooos erupt from around the circle. Everyone holds their breath as they glance between the two of them.
Despite the cool air enveloping the backyard, the fire that was residing beneath Mike’s skin from earlier returns in full force. Sweat begins to build just underneath his tightening shirt as he anxiously picks at a hangnail on his thumb.
“I dare you to go inside and dance with me.”
All the air in Mike’s lungs becomes nonexistent. Holy shit, he can’t breathe.
Several people in the circle laugh easily in surprise, others give loud hollers of drunken encouragement. It’s all background noise though to the thundering pulse Mike can hear of his hammering heartbeat.
He can’t. There’s absolutely no way. He’ll do anything else, but no-
He can’t go in there. He can’t step on that floor.
The devil must be sitting on Mike’s shoulder now because he really feels like he has no control over his own movements when Lily is suddenly standing over him and pulling him up by his hands.
Blame the alcohol. Blame his drunkenness. Blame his fear.
Mike lets himself be pulled because what else is he supposed to do? He can’t necessarily back down now. As much as it terrifies him of what’s about to happen, Mike won’t let his pride get hurt in the process. Not when he was actually starting to open himself up to new people for the first time in what’s felt like forever.
He just needs to get through this. It only has to be one dance. One dance, and then he can walk away like it never even happened. He might not even be out there-
“Perfect timing!” Lily half-shouts as they push their way through the house and to the living room.
A new song is just beginning to play as she steps out onto the makeshift dance floor, not hesitating to pull Mike into the pulsing crowd surrounding them.
“Let’s groove tonight.”
“Share the spice of life.”
“Baby, slice it right.”
“We’re gonna groove tonight.”
The music thrums heavy and rhythmic into Mike’s ears. His eyes closing and body barely moving along as he listens to the intro of the song. He feels the settling of arms on top of his shoulders and the locking of hands behind his neck before he actually sees them. Lily pulls him close in one small tug, and in seconds their bodies are pressed firmly against one another’s.
Mike tries his best, he really does, to focus his sole attention on her. On the way they’re slowly beginning to move together to the beat of the music. How Lily is anything but hesitant, wasting no time in building up a slow grind of their hips as they continue to dance.
But then he feels it.
That strange, otherworldly cosmic awareness he’s never been able to explain. That sixth sense of being seen.
Mike drags his attention away from the girl still insistently dancing against him, and looks up.
Will’s back on the dance floor.
He stands only a few feet away. About two small groups of friends dancing in between them. Carlton obviously still glued to his side. His hands locked onto Will’s waist like they’ve always belonged there, confident and easy. Something tight and uncomfortable twists deep inside Mike’s chest, watching as Will instinctively relaxes into his touch. That smile he loves so much is present here, now. Unguarded and free.
Without any warning, Will looks up too.
Their eyes meet across the dim dance floor.
The rest of the room seems to fall away.
For a split second, it’s almost like neither of them move. The music continues to blast, the disco lights flashing every array of color as Mike notices the surprise attempting to take over Will’s face. Lily’s still pressed strongly against him, close enough now that he can feel her breath, but she might as well be invisible.
Will’s smile begins to falter, barely. Mike still catches it.
“Let me tell ya what you can do.”
“With my love, alright.”
“Gotta let you know, girl, you’re looking good.”
“You’re outta sight, alright.”
Neither of them look away.
Lily must be able to tell that Mike’s mind is beginning to wander elsewhere, because with no warning at all, she rotates in his arms and shifts so her back is now firmly resting against Mike’s front.
And, oh.
Oh, this is the last place Mike wants to be.
Will’s eyes flick down, just for a brief second. Right to where Lily’s ass is grinding unabashedly against Mike’s crotch.
Mike watches as something unreadable passes across his best friend's face.
Carlton begins to whisper something into Will’s ear, making him laugh again, but it looks forced this time. His back is to Mike, so there’s no way he knows exactly where Will is focusing his attention. It doesn’t stop him, however, from noticing the slight rigidness his partner has developed.
Mike’s head is pulled momentarily away suddenly by persistent fingers reaching up and digging into the base of his roots. Dragging him down, and down, and down until his face is level with Lily’s own.
“You ok?” She asks, voice barely audible over the music.
“Of course.” Mike responds automatically, mechanically.
That answer must be good enough for Lily because those fingers still tied in Mike’s hair grip harder, moving him away from her face and farther down to the long expanse of her neck.
Mike feels his throat run dry.
He stares for a moment. At the softness of it. The paleness in color that flashes vibrant under the rotating lights.
He briefly glances up and across the room.
Will’s still staring, watching in silent contentment. Yet, this time Mike realizes he’s changed positions.
Will has his back pressed right up against Carlton’s front, practically mirroring Lily’s position. His boyfriend’s lips drag messily up and down his long throat as Will’s hands rest atop the one’s squeezing at his hips.
He doesn’t seem into though, Mike registers. If anything, Will’s entire attention appears to be solely locked onto Mike’s every movement instead.
They’ve done this dance before.
Not obviously like this. With loud music and the sweaty bodies of strangers, but the constant orbit around each other isn’t new. The way they’ve always somehow let that emotional pull residing deep within their bellies bring them back together no matter how far they’ve attempted to drift apart.
In a sudden example of bravery, Mike begins to replicate Carlton’s movements.
Let me show you how much better I can be than him. His mind greedily thinks.
The alcohol still buzzing through his veins might’ve made Mike’s limbs feel heavy, but it doesn’t stop him as he rests his own palms onto the curve of Lily’s waist. He can feel her quick intake of breath, not expecting the sudden touch but melting into immediately.
“You will find peace of mind on the floor.”
“Take a little time, come and see, you and me.”
“Give a little sign, I’ll be there after a while.”
“If you want my love.”
With nothing else left to mirror but the thing he’s dreading most, Mike musters up all the courage within his body and leans down.
At first, it’s just the soft press of smooth skin beneath his quivering lips. Quick and hurried, but then he forces himself to ease gently into it. A couple beats of the song pass and with each one Mike moves his mouth along the expanse of Lily’s throat. Exploring, tasting.
Not necessarily enjoying, but still not as bad as he thought it was going to be.
The music shifts again, growing closer towards the end of the song which makes the crowd dance like there’s not going to be a tomorrow.
Mike lets himself get swept up in the feeling of it.
The lyrics of the song echoing in his ears. The beat consistently thumping in his chest. His lips beginning to move with more purpose. Turning from quick pecks to open-mouthed kisses. Lily sighing beneath his movements, nails digging into Mike’s scalp.
But, that’s not who’s hand he’s currently imagining tightening in his hair.
Behind closed eyelids, Mike can almost picture Will being the one pressed up against him right now. His short nails replacing long acrylics. Warm, entrancing green eyes staring up at him in pleasure instead of the cold blue ones that currently drag over his face.
It’s everything he could dream of wanting.
But his reality is still trapped on top of this dance floor.
As the song slows to an end, Mike forces himself to open his eyes finally. He hesitates, not really knowing what to expect on the other side.
Will hasn’t looked away from him. His jaw is slightly slack, eyes pinched at the corners like they’re trying to hold back a hundred different emotions from spilling out.
The look they share feels like quiet devastation. Years of laughs, fights, tears- compressed into a single, tragic second. Love, hurt, longing, and the awful underlying knowledge that neither of them know how to bridge it all together.
Mike exhales shakily through his nose.
Will’s lips part, like he’s going to shout something across the room.
And then, without so much as another glance, Will turns back around in Carlton’s arms. Mike doesn’t miss the way the other man’s hands instinctively wrap possessively around his waist while he presses a small kiss to Will’s temple.
Everything good and glowing inside of Mike dies right there on the spot. His lips press together in quiet resentment and his skin crawls with a longing so strong, it feels like it could without a doubt kill him.
But then Mike catches something briefly. Too quickly.
Wait, there’s hesitation there.
The fingers laying on Will’s back almost dig in and grab in a way that screams predatory all of a sudden. The lips still resting against his skull quiver just slightly, as if they’re worried the boy beneath them is going to disappear.
Mike has absolutely no time to prepare himself as the heated, angry gaze Carlton is holding falls onto him.
Oh shit.
Mike can hardly see the movement of Carlton’s lips beside Will’s ear in the shallow lightning. What he can see, however, is the entire way Will’s body seems to straighten up in moments. Like he’s been caught.
Before he knows it, Carlton is dragging Will off the dance floor and to somewhere else inside the house.
Completely away from Mike.
Every instinct within Mike yells at him to move. Go after Will like any best friend would to make sure he’s ok. He really is about to leave the dance floor mindlessly behind him when-
Shit.
Lily still has her body attached to his in a way that probably makes them look like any other couple. He actually gags at the thought.
Trying to be as nice as he possibly can, Mike remembers how to control his hands and uses them to lift her arms off his shoulders finally.
The loss of pressure is an immediate relief Mike didn’t even realize he was looking for.
Already missing the contact, Lily shoots him a small, pouting frown. Her fingers attempt to reach out again to pull them back together, but Mike responds by taking a step back. He feels absolutely no shame in exaggerating the distance between them even though he can tell it’s slowly beginning to piss Lily off.
“Come on, one more dance!” She proposes with a tipsy whine.
“Sorry, but my dare was that I just had to dance with you. It was never specified for how long.” Mike remarks.
And with that, he wastes no time turning on his heels hurrying off the dance floor before she can drag him back in.
It’s at the point in the night where everything’s beginning to blur together.
Although Mike is starting to sober up, everyone else around him certainly isn’t. He can tell by how he has to push himself a little harder through the different crowds gathered in the halls. Muttering half-assed apologies as he goes, irritation boiling under his skin with every frustrated step.
He’s already checked the kitchen, the multiple hallways downstairs, the now mostly abandoned backyard.
Where the hell are they?
The scene from the dance floor replays over and over again in his head as he searches-
Will’s attention never leaving Mike’s own. His hips swaying easily and practiced to the music around them. Carlton’s hands ghosting over his boyfriend’s skin, but those green eyes focusing completely on the boy across the floor from him.
Will’s neck leaning just slightly more to the right, giving Carlton better access yet his eyebrows raised in a curious way as he watched every line of Mike’s face move. Almost challenging him again.
“Watch.”
Is what that look embedded deep within Will’s intoxicated eyes read.
And Mike, who’s incapable of telling Will no, watched. And watched. And watched until his breathing turned ragged and jealousy bubbled over enough it caused him to finally react.
Exactly what Will seemed to have wanted.
Because in no time, after Mike was reciprocating every touch and heat was building low in his spine, Will was mimicking every movement. Every grind. Practically forcing Mike to look at him from across the dance floor and make him imagine it was Will who was pressed against him.
Then the music stopped.
Mike clenches his jaw tight.
The last place he can check is upstairs. So, not wanting to waste anymore time, Mike rushes up the steps.
Luckily, the second floor isn’t nearly as packed as the one below, but there’s still a couple small clicks of people hanging around. Mike’s starting to lose hope when he turns around a corner to the last bedroom hallway, but then he sees him.
Will.
Will, standing with his back pressed firm against the bedroom door behind him. His shoulders tense and hands clenched near his sides. In front of him, Carlton stands tall and rigid. His shadow looming over Will’s face making him appear even broader than he actually is.
The sight hits Mike hard.
Carlton’s talking, no arguing. His hands move quick and sharp as he speaks, words cutting through the atmosphere and making Mike’s stomach drop. Even though he can’t see his face, Mike can imagine the strain in Carlton’s expression. The tightness around his mouth and annoyance in his eyes.
Will seems to attempt to take a step back. His spine only being met with the solid wooden door still behind him.
That’s all it took.
That simple step of fear is enough to have Mike moving forward.
“I’m not trying to control you-” Carlton snaps. “I’m just asking why you kept staring at him like that out there?”
As he walks closer, Mike is beginning to hear the argument dissolving between the two of them.
“Why are you making this about him! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you it isn’t like that.” Will stresses.
“Isn’t it though?” Carlton’s voice is humorless despite the laugh that falls from his lips. “Because if it’s not, then you need to stop staring at him like it is!”
Mike finds himself stopping dead in his tracks.
Guilt travels up his throat and burns like fire. He’s caused this. He never meant to get in the middle of Will’s love life like this. He tried to push himself away to keep this exact situation from happening.
He hadn’t meant to still matter so much.
“You’re wrong…” Will stutters. Tears threaten to slip from his eyes.
“Then explain it to me! Because I’m standing right here, right now, and I still feel like I’m competing with someone who isn’t even trying.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Will.”
Mike’s going to kill him.
“You can keep saying whatever bullshit you want, and I can keep waiting… But I can’t pretend anymore that I don’t see what’s going on right in front of my own face-”
Carlton doesn’t get any more words out before he’s being slammed harshly into the opposite wall of the hallway. Will breathes out a relieving sigh as Mike closes his fists in the fabric of Carlton’s jacket.
Mike’s not a fighter, never has been. He’s never really had the right build that would allow him to stick up against school bullies or go toe to toe with a demodog like Steve. But, he does have his height. And enough rage coursing through him currently that ignites every muscle in his body to act.
“You have no right to speak to him like that.” Mike spits out. Carlton squirms under his palms, but Mike only tightens his grip. “There is no one in this world that life has been more unfair to than that boy behind us.”
Mike presses his fists in harder, hoping they bruise. Hoping Carlton feels even a fraction of pain that his thoughtless actions might’ve caused.
“Oh! This is rich. What, you overhear part of an argument and suddenly you’re running to play hero?” Carlton’s voice is straight venom.
All Mike is seeing is red.
“I didn’t have to listen to the whole thing. I heard how you meant for your words to land.”
“You don’t know anything about us or our relationship. Trust me, I know.” Carlton’s attention flickers just over Mike’s shoulder to glance at Will. Like he’s trying to drive his point even further across. “So how about you mind your own damn business.”
Mike laughs, but it’s clipped and entirely humorless.
“I would, except I actually do know him. I’m not the one standing here with raging entitlement, interrogating him just because you think he’s looking at someone the wrong way.”
“He’s never just looking.”
Mike visibly falters at the connotation behind Carlton’s words. It gives the other boy enough leverage to push Mike back enough so that he’s tugging out of his grip.
“Mike… stop.” Will whispers from where he’s now standing just behind him.
Carlton scoffs, glancing between the two of them in outright annoyance.
“This isn’t just about jealousy. This is about honesty. About being with someone who’s actually present.” He seethes.
Mike’s mouth tightens into a hard line. Will might want him to stop, but his lips are moving before he even thinks to. “Then take the time and ask yourself why he believes he can’t be.”
A wave of silence falls heavily around them.
Carlton’s face shifts. His expression changing from complete anger into something colder. “Wow- you really don’t get it do you?”
Mike flinches at his tone.
“You show up, you disappear. You talk to him, then ignore him for days. You act like his friend, only to then treat him like anything but that.”
Mike can feel the water wanting to form at the corner of his eyes. Every word, every syllable slamming into him and cracking their invisible weight down onto his chest and expelling the air from his burning lungs.
“And somehow, throughout all of the bullshit, you’re still the center of his gravity without even trying.”
Will steps in then. Before Carlton can continue spewing nasty sentences and before Mike inevitably crumbles under the weight of them.
“Enough!” Will shouts.
Both of them freeze.
Honestly, Will looks downright exhausted as Mike turns to stare at him. Not necessarily angry, but tired. Like this argument has been building up for a lot longer than tonight, and got dealt with in the worst possible way.
“This conversation was never supposed to happen here.” Will glares into Carlton’s eyes.
Mike silently watches as Will takes another step forward, crowding himself in front of Carlton’s face so he’s forced to look right down at him.
“And never speak to me or him like that ever again.”
“But, Will-”
“No! You don’t own me anymore, we’re done.”
Mike winces at the severity of Will’s voice. There’s no waver, no doubt behind it. Carlton stares at him with a glazed over expression, looks like he’s going to say something, but realizes it isn’t worth it.
“Whatever, this obviously isn’t worth my time or commitment anymore. See ya around Will.”
And with that, Carlton makes it evident to shoulder his way past Mike before he disappears around the corner of the hallway and out of their line of sight.
Will immediately exhales a shaky breath, like every single nerve of pinched up tension is releasing itself from his body as he falls back against the door.
Mike finds himself doing the same on the opposite wall.
“I’m sorry.” He says. “I didn’t mean for this all to happen.”
Will opens his eyes, looking at him for a long moment. “You never do.”
Mike inwardly folds in on himself.
“But…” Will adds softly. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t want it to happen.”
That takes Mike by surprise. Will must notice because a quiet laugh falls from his mouth as he glances at Mike’s raised eyebrows.
“What do you mean?” Mike asks. He needs some sort of clarification.
“I don’t know. For a while now we both kept having the same arguments over and over again, and I didn’t know how to fix it the way he wanted me to, so it was just this tension building up between us.” Will pulls his gaze to stare at the ground. Like the guilt of the situation is catching up with him.
“I guess he finally got pissed off enough tonight to finally want to talk about it again, but then it hit me while we were arguing up here that I wasn’t going to be able to give him what he really wants.”
Mike takes a cautious step forward, trying to encourage Will to look back up at him.
“And what is it he wanted?”
Will takes that moment to lift his head back up. Eyes watery. Smile guilt stricken and painfully sad.
“All of me.”
It’s like every significant moment up until now rapidly replays through Mike’s mind as though it’s a film reel on display; his brain trying to piece together the underlying meaning behind Will’s confession.
They’re both five years old and outside during recess. Mike’s playing alone, like always, but then he spots an unknown brunette on the swings a couple yards away. He’s also alone. Something about him makes Mike set down whatever he was playing with and walk over. “You wanna be friends?” Mike finds himself asking without really knowing why, and then the boy shakes his head yes before either of them realizes the impact that decision will have for years to come.
They’re both twelve years old and playing D&D in Mike’s basement like always. A campaign spread out in front of them, Lucas, and Dustin which has been going on for hours. Karen Wheeler’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs, and in minutes the day’s officially over. Mike walks his friends outside, and before Will leaves he stares at Mike with those same green eyes. “The demogorgon, it got me.” Who would’ve known the weight Will’s words carried before he was gone the next day.
They’re still both twelve as only a couple days pass by before Mike watches as Will’s body is pulled out from Quarry. Everything going quiet and numb as Mike believes he’s going to somehow have to continue living a life that doesn’t include Will Byers.
They’re both thirteen and changing when Mike finds Will being tormented by the Mindflayer on Halloween. Quickly rushing him back to his basement and reassuring him everything was going to be ok. Will had looked at him with worry still in his eyes, and Mike admitted he felt like he was going crazy only for Will to share the same feeling. They’d agreed then: “Crazy together.”
They’re both fourteen and standing in Mike’s garage with the pouring down rain just outside. Mike who was confused and angry with everything going on within himself, that he projected it out onto the one person he shouldn’t have. “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” He had never seen such betrayal strike Will’s face before he was hopping on his bike and leaving the Wheeler house behind him.
They’re both fifteen and driving across the country to go save El from the captive hands of the military. Sitting beside each other, and out of nowhere Will shows Mike the most beautiful piece of artwork he’s ever commissioned. There’s a story behind it that Mike doesn’t entirely understand, but for that moment, it’s ok. It’s ok because despite them potentially driving to their deaths, Mike gets to hold something Will made purely out of love.
They’re both seventeen, and Will has sat them all down inside the Squawk. Terror stricken eyes glancing around the room everyone currently occupies. He works up the courage to tell them all the secret he’s kept hidden for so many years now, and mentions how having a crush ultimately helped in letting him learn to accept himself. It’s probably not only the proudest Mike has ever been of him, but also the most confused he’s been in his entire life.
And now, they’re both nineteen, sophomores in college and have never been more distant from each other in their entire lives. But still their souls are so intertwined, it’s a fate sealed in destiny that they inevitably find their way back to each other.
“Why wouldn’t you give it to him?” The greedy part of Mike finds himself asking.
Please…
Please tell me I’m not imagining this. Please be crazy together with me again.
Will immediately shakes his head in calm refusal. A shaky breath falls from his lips. “Don’t- please not right now. I don’t want to talk about that.”
Mike doesn’t press any further and nods his head in understanding.
“Sorry, we don’t have to talk about any of it.” He hurries out.
There’s at least a softer smile growing over Will’s face, but he’s gone quiet again. Mike really has no idea what to say now, how to make this better. Like he’s already addressed, he’s never been good with words.
Mike remembers then, they’re still at a party. There’s still over a hundred people crammed tightly together downstairs dancing and singing their hearts out. There’s still free alcohol sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting to be consumed.
This might end up being the worst decision he’s ever made, or the best idea he’s ever had if Will agrees.
“Wanna head back downstairs and get drunk again?”
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
Downstairs, about half an hour has passed between the chugging of cup one and now the slow sipping of cup three.
The buzz from earlier gradually starts making its way back under Mike’s skin, and causes the noise around him to turn fuzzy once more. Will’s cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and his sweaty hair is starting to curl again from the new wave of heat flooding through his body.
Mike’s glasses begin sliding down his nose as he catches himself staring for a second longer than he should be.
Will luckily doesn’t seem to notice.
They’re both still standing leaning against the kitchen counters while different groups of friends pass by in their own conversations. Will is animatedly talking with his hands, the drinks significantly helping him to forget about all the past worries this night has brought.
“I’m serious Mike! No normal professor assigns an entire art project due the week after midterms. We literally just finished a different project for midterms. How can he expect us to turn around and basically do it all over again!”
Mike snorts in amusement. “You’re only complaining because he called you out in class. We both know you secretly enjoy the work.”
Will fakes a huff of annoyance. His arms cross over his chest.
“That was one time.”
“That was quite literally the other day.”
Both boys burst out into laughter in seconds.
Mike missed this. Will’s laughter. His jokes being the reasoning behind the smile that’s currently resting across Will’s face. Although it’s too soon, and although it’s definitely wrong, a small part of Mike beams at the idea of Will being his again.
In whatever way he wants him.
Will groans then and leans forward, resting his forehead softly against Mike’s shoulder like they used to when they were kids. Like it’s the most natural thing in the entire world and not entirely influenced by the alcohol coursing through them. Mike freezes for no more than a second, taking in the sensation, before forcing himself to relax.
“Oh, stop being dramatic.” Mike teases, barely moving as though not to scare Will away.
“Shush- you like it when I’m dramatic.” Will lifts his head back, eyes a little unfocused as they stare into Mike’s.
Mike swallows. “I really like it when you’re not spilling punch all over my pants.”
Will’s entire face goes cherry red in embarrassment as Mike brings up the chaotic incident from only a couple minutes ago. It was right when they started on cup three. Will was already feeling the effects of chugging both one and two, so when Mike handed him his third cup, he failed at grabbing it which resulted in the drink falling straight to the kitchen floor. Its contents splashed out and over the lower part of Mike’s jeans in the process.
Mike only laughed in response, made sure Will was ok, and then got him a new drink that he made Will promise to him he wouldn’t drop before giving it over.
“Oh, my god. You seriously don’t have to remind me.” Will groans and stuffs his face back into Mike’s shoulder.
“Nope, I'm pretty sure the universe told me itself that I’m morally obligated to remind you every thirty minutes so you always remember to hold your drink properly.”
“Shut up.” Will’s plea is muffled against the fabric of Mike’s shirt.
“Sorry, what was that? It sounded like a voice, but I can’t really hear what it’s saying-”
“Oh. My. God. Shut up!” Will’s hand is flying to Mike’s mouth in seconds to quiet him. His palm rests firmly on top of his buzzing lips.
Mike’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead in surprise.
Will has a triumphant smile breaking across his face, which falls away into something more tender for the briefest second. Then, like he’s realized what he’s done, panic breaks out between the smallest cracks of Will’s false facade and has him quickly pushing the pieces back together so Mike can no longer see the truth he swears is residing behind Will’s eyes.
He pulls away from Mike, putting a couple inches of space between them. Mike misses the contact instantly.
The music surrounding them suddenly changes its beat once more, signaling that a new song is about to be blasting through the speakers.
It doesn’t take either of them long before they recognize the first few notes spilling out from the living room. A giddy grin envelopes Will’s face and suppresses most traces of the prior uneasiness that was there.
“Come on!” Will grabs ahold of Mike’s wrist.
“Where are we going?” Mike questions even though he already knows the answer.
“Dance floor!” Will answers.
“There’s no way!” Mike half-shouts back as they near the living room. One dance was already enough for him tonight.
“You’re drunk and you’re dancing!”
“Correction, I’m buzzed! You're drunk and dancing, and now you’re wanting to force your agenda onto me!”
“You danced earlier? What’s so different about it now?”
You.
“I-” And what argument does Mike really have against that. Nothing, that’s what. This is everything he’s ever dreamed of, and it finally might become his reality. As long as he’s brave enough to take it.
“Fine.”
Will gazes up at him with one of the most charming smiles Mike’s ever seen before he’s pulling them both back towards the music. This time, Mike lets himself be dragged. The feeling of Will’s hand around his wrist feels too nice not to.
The living room is still lively with chaos. Lights flashing every sort of color as bodies are smashed sweatily together while dancing to the song. Once on the dance floor, Mike becomes very aware of how close he and Will really are. Their shoulders are brushing as they come to a stop somewhere near the middle of the room. Will’s hand at some point moved up and is currently gripping Mike’s arm so they wouldn’t get separated.
He turns then to stare up at Mike. “Ready?”
Mike barely nods before Will begins to move to the beat of the song’s intro. They aren’t really dancing together at first. Both of them standing close, but not touching. Half-swaying and unapologetically laughing when multiple couples accidentally bump into them. At some point, Mike goes to reach for another sip of his drink before realizing he had completely abandoned it when Will dragged his ass out here.
“Oh, thinkin’ about our younger years.”
“There was only you and me.”
“We were young and wild and free.”
The words of the song hit right into Mike’s chest and have the memories from earlier rushing back to the forefront of his mind. And there, in the center of all of them, is the same boy still standing here in front of Mike now after all these years.
Will has begun to start really dancing. His body moving to the beat with a confidence Mike hasn’t gotten to witness so openly before; as if he’s swaying with no care in the world of who’s watching. A drug that’s alluring, captivating, and so extraordinarily beautiful that all Mike can do is stare.
“What?” Will says with a smirk.
“It’s nothing.” Mike flushes.
“Friends don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You’re staring.”
Mike swallows worryingly at being caught red fucking handed. Will doesn’t back down though, just quietly continues to observe in amusement. Mike feels his mouth run dry. Whether it’s the alcohol igniting every nerve inside his skin, or the way Will is currently looking at him with such awareness, it pushes Mike to say something he never thought he’d be capable of.
“Maybe I like what I see.”
Will physically falters. Confusion, uncertainty, and most greatly doubt flashing across his face underneath the neon lights.
Mike decides it’s his turn now to move with that same air of confidence Will did moments ago.
He takes a daring step forward into Will’s space.
Nope!
Wait, this is too soon. Mike goes to reel back. He’s moving too fast and this is not what Will needs right now.
He just needs his best friend, not all the emotional and confusing baggage Mike is currently carrying and will undoubtedly throw upon him-
Will meets him halfway.
His hands lightly lift to graze Mike’s shoulders, testing the waters as hesitation laces his fingers. There’s genuine panic resting behind his dilated pupils, but he continues. That invisible pull in their guts stronger than the dread they’re both experiencing at what this will all mean in the morning.
Mike doesn’t even realize he’s raising his palms in response before he glances down and sees them rest gently against Will’s sides. Apprehension is evident in every one of their combined movements, but then Mike looks back up and suddenly feels the need to laugh bubble in his throat.
Why is he so worried?
It’s just Will.
Will Byers, his best friend. The one who’s been attached to his side since they were five years old. Who he’s laughed, cried, and almost died with more times than he can even count. Who Mike knows he can be his true, unapologetic self with no matter what.
Who Mike, for the first time is admitting to himself, truly and unashamedly loves.
Mike goes to pull Will just a couple inches closer then. Their chests are lightly pressing together, and their movements are uncoordinated but somehow slightly in sync to the music. Mike can feel the heat radiating now off of Will’s body. Smell the faint scent of lavender soap he’s used since they were middle schoolers.
It’s all too much, and not enough at the same time.
Mike can’t believe this is actually happening as he moves to lean his head down towards Will’s. His voice is low as he whispers into the other boy’s ear.
“Let go. Just for this song, just for right now… Be free with me.”
It’s like Will was waiting for Mike to say something. Waiting desperately and holding himself back from pushing this any farther until he knew Mike was wanting the same thing as him.
“Okay.” Will nods and his body starts to loosen up even more in Mike’s hold.
“Oh, once in your life, you find someone.”
“Who will turn your world around.”
“Bring you up when your feelin’ down.”
“Yeah, nothing could change what you mean to me.”
The lyrics intertwine and meld into the small bubble that’s seemed to cover them as they start swaying more confidently to the music.
They move slowly and unhurried. Not grinding or anything, but still pressing close enough together that Mike can feel every line of Will’s body solidly against his own. He can feel when Will leans in closer towards his face; feels when he goes to pull back.
He feels the soft touches of Will’s fingers holding onto his shoulders. How they suddenly drift upwards and rest together at the base of Mike’s neck. He feels Will’s breath finally soothing in the close space between them, a hint of alcohol still prominent on his tongue.
Mike feels.
And feels.
And is feeling so much that it’s becoming intoxicating.
His hands are finally holding the drug he’s been craving for so long now, and it’s everything he could’ve desired.
Will smiles up at him, soft and content.
Mike’s chest blooms at the sight.
“You’re beautiful.”
Will’s cheeks blush at the compliment under the flashing colors of yellow and blue above them. He goes to duck his head in Mike’s neck, but doesn’t get far. One of Mike’s hands falls from Will’s waist and catches his jaw before he can hide. He pulls his head back up so they’re staring at each other again.
“Please, I want to look at you.” Mike mutters.
Will searches his face, reading between every line and making sure there isn’t any deception there.
“You’re already looking at me.” Will half jokes.
“No-” Mike shakes his head. “I want to look at you. I don’t want you to hide so that I can see you in every single light, every glow and shadow, every shade and season… I want to see you as you are right now, and continue to see every version of who you might become.”
It’s a lot, it’s raw, and it’s complete devotion stumbling from Mike’s mouth.
Will exhales through his nose under the weight of it all. Mike’s thumb rubs soothing circles into Will’s waist; his hand’s still cradling the other’s jaw.
“I-” Will’s voice catches on too many emotions. “What?”
Mike feels as though the entire world suddenly cracks beneath him and is about to swallow him whole. Oh shit, he went too far! He got so caught up in the sensation of it all that he overstepped the boundaries he was so desperately trying to stay behind.
You utter dumbass Michael Wheeler.
“Sorry! I mean, I just have really missed hanging out. You know, seeing you and actually getting to talk with you everyday-”
“Mike.” Will cuts him off from his rambling. There’s confusion in his expression, yet the tiniest bit of hope dances behind his eyes. “What do you mean, and don’t lie.”
Mike takes a moment to breathe. Calm down his stressing nerves. Silence stretches between them, but Mike can’t seem to find the right words to say. He knows the truth, it sits on the back of his tongue waiting to fall out. But, once he actually says it out loud, admits it- there’s no going back.
There’s no guarantee Will’s going to even want to look at him after he confesses it.
But, Mike knows he can’t just keep dancing around it forever. He obviously tried tonight, and look where it got him. Will’s wanting answers, and Mike isn’t nearly as afraid to give them like he once was.
“Not here.” Mike drops his hand from Will’s jaw, but keeps his fingers still firmly pinned at his side. He tries to give it a comforting squeeze, showing he isn’t going to disappear like he has been, just needing a more calming change of scenery.
“The apartment. Can we talk there instead?” He asks.
Will nods his head, not entirely understanding but trusting Mike enough to agree. “Yeah, we can. Let me just grab my coat and then we can leave.”
The chilling winter air that encompassed Mike as he and Will walked back to the apartment was a much needed break from the humidity that had been living within him at the party, and was definitely helping to sober him up.
They haven’t really spoken much since leaving the house. Only the occasional brush of their shoulders as they walk beside each other is enough to let the other one know they’re still here.
A thousand different renditions of how Mike is going to go about this once they get home play through his reeling mind. Every single one of them never fails to highlight the possibility of Will despising him after this is all said and done.
Please… please don’t hate me.
It’s only a couple more minutes of silent walking when Mike can spot their apartment complex in the distance. An actual shiver quickly runs up the length of his spine at the sight of it.
At the door, Mike pauses for a moment, taking a second. Hesitation lines all of his movements as he pushes his key into the lock and nudges it open. He’s downright terrified of what waits for him on the other side.
“We should probably turn the heater up tonight since it’s gotten way colder outside. More than we thought it was going to at least.” Mike absentmindedly attempts at small talk. The ever-working part of his brain trying to fill the heavy silence around them.
Will doesn’t respond. He shuffles past Mike and into the kitchen, flicking on a lightswitch so the apartment is illuminated in a yellowish glow. He turns and leans his hip against the island’s edge, arms crossing as he looks at Mike.
Mike can feel his pulse hammering in his ears.
Everything feels too real all of a sudden.
Neither of them attempt to talk first. With Mike internally freaking out and Will cautiously staring at him. As someone who’s going to school to become a writer, Mike has never felt at a loss for words before.
Not until right now.
“For most of my life, you’ve been a constant ache in my side. You know that?” Will speaks up then, breaking the silence pressing down on them with a clipped laugh.
“You’re stubborn, and bossy, and believe you’re always right most of the time. You challenge every argument and press harder when you know you shouldn’t. You act entitled to the things you consider yours, yet never actually do anything when they’re pulled away.”
Mike’s body shutters at the honesty behind Will’s voice. The bitter resentment taking up space between his words.
“For months now, ever since Carlton began coming around, there’s been this look etched across your face every time you glance at me. Sometimes it reads as regret. Other times it comes across as resentment. I didn’t think anything of it at first, honestly because it kind of resembled the same look you used to give me back in the summer of 85’, but then you actually started disappearing.”
A dullness takes over Will’s expression as he inhales deeply.
“You know Mike, tonight is the first night I feel like we’ve properly talked to each other since then. But, it’s like you didn’t have the courage to do so until Carlton was officially out of the picture. Since he’s been gone, for literally just a couple hours mind you, you’ve actually started looking at me again like I matter. So why now? You started touching me like you care and-” Will halts suddenly. Bites down on his tongue as if he’s said too much.
Mike knows, he knows he has to finally come clean. If not for himself, then for the boy across from him that deserves every answer Mike is needing to give.
“I do care.” Mike says.
He carefully steps away from the door and into the kitchen.
“You’re right, I’ve been absent. Unfair. For a while I’ve been lying to myself. To you.” He mutters while moving to lean against the counter opposite from where Will’s standing.
They’re almost mirroring the same position they were in this morning. Well, yesterday now with how late it is but that’s whatever.
“P-Please… please don’t say this because you’re drunk.” Will warns.
“I’m not. And even if I still was, it doesn’t matter because I’ve been lying for years now. I’ve known what my feelings are for so long, and haven’t had the courage to do anything about it.” He declares. “You’re not still drunk, are you?”
He also needs to make sure. He needs to know Will’s fully here and present for what he’s about to say.
“No, I’m not.” Will responds.
Mike stands there in quiet consideration for a minute. Figuring out where and how he wants to begin all of this. How he wants to admit these four confessions that’ve been brewing inside him for years. He ultimately decides on the first one from their childhood. Where he can so vividly recall feeling all these exact same emotions without actually knowing the meaning behind them.
“Back when the Mindflayer had possessed you on Halloween, I remember I’d never felt more terrified in my entire life. Not just because of the Upside Down and its new discoveries, but because of how it began to affect you.” Mike remembers them sitting shoulder to shoulder in his basement.
Everyone else so far had been looking at Will like he was fragile, like he might break. Mike only looked at him though and thought-
Stay with me.
“We agreed we’d go crazy together, remember? At the time, I told myself I said it out of loyalty, friendship. How we were obviously best friends sticking together through something that felt impossible. But, looking back now I can see how my world had narrowed down to your voice, your eyes. How I didn’t only want you to survive, but to also stay with me after it.”
Will’s eyes are glassing over with unspilled tears and realization as he listens. Mike can imagine his face is very close to matching.
“Then, when the summer before high school came around I completely went back on all of it. Between trying to figure out my feelings for El and everything going on within me, I started to break. I pushed my resentment onto you not because I was mad, but because I didn’t understand what the hell was going on inside me and I felt like you were slipping away.”
Mike can feel the shame from that fight in the rain building up the inside of his gut like it was yesterday, but he pushes on anyway. He needs to do this. He has to do this for Will.
“The guilt I still feel to this day from what I said to you during our fight in my garage will haunt me for the rest of my life. It was the first time, I think, where I clearly felt how much more you mattered to me in something other than a friendly way, and it scared me. The idea that we were all changing, growing up, and there was the potential you’d start seeing someone that wasn’t me.”
Mike exhales all the tension that’s been building up in his shoulders after his second confession.
Only two more to go.
Tears now are starting to slowly descend from the edges of Will’s eyes. Mike wants to reach out, comfort him, but he stays put. His back remains glued to the counter because he knows if he even takes one step forward, he isn’t going to be able to stop himself.
There’s still so much he has to say.
“It wasn’t until we were on our way to save El that I began to better cope with my feelings, I think. I know up until that moment there was a distance between us, similar to the one now, that I caused before you left and I never got to fix. But, then you gave me that painting in the back of the van and everything just seemed to fall back into place in my mind.”
Will audibly gasps at Mike mentioning the piece of artwork. Like he never expected for him to bring it back up.
Mike might’ve not understood the entire sentiment behind the painting back then, but luckily he’s not fifteen and a complete dumbass anymore.
“It’s ok.” He reassures Will. “I know it was made only by you, not El. Well, I didn’t entirely know back then like I do now, but it still was just as important to me. That painting had made me feel so strong at the time. So seen. You had made me feel like I was actually worth something. And I feel terrible for taking it, taking your heart, and not knowing I had it.”
Mike stutters out the last sentence. The weight of everything growing heavy on his shoulders and threatening to pull him down to the floor. There’s a coolness to his skin now that indicates somewhere through that last confession he began to cry.
He closes his eyes for a second, recollecting himself. When Mike opens them, Will is fully breaking down against the island.
Screw it.
Mike still has one last thing he wants to confess, but he can’t force himself to stand here any longer while Will is physically crumbling across from him. He’ll get to it, he promises. But right now, he needs to comfort his boy.
“Hey, hey, it’s ok.” Mike immediately crowds himself in front of Will. His hands fly up to cradle the other’s face and his thumbs instinctively wipe away the tears that are spilling down his cheeks.
“Mike…” Will whispers between choked sobs.
“Shhh- everything’s ok.” He gently soothes. “I’ve got you.”
Tears continue to fall out of Will’s eyes, but he stops aggressively crying with each swipe of Mike’s fingers against his skin.
They both remain standing there for a moment. In each other’s space. Mike moves his arms from Will’s face so he can wrap them around his waist and pull him into his chest instead. Will’s hands end up resting in the trapped space between them, fisting the fabric of Mike’s shirt as he goes willingly. It’s as though he’s clinging to him like a lifeline.
“You’re ok Will. Just breathe, ok? You don’t have to hold it together, I’m not going anywhere.” Mike repeats. His palm rubs soft circles into Will’s back.
Mike doesn’t really know how long they stand there in the kitchen as time passes by. It could’ve been ten minutes, or almost an hour for all he knows.
At some point though, Will’s body finally begins to stop heaving from the different waves of emotions crashing over him. Mike’s been holding him up the entire time, comforting him through all of it. The brunette sucks in sharply, lifting his head off of Mike’s chest and leaving behind a puddle of stained tears.
Damn, he’s such a pretty cryer.
“S-Sorry, I…” Will attempts to form his thoughts, but his voice cracks.
“You have no reason to be sorry. I’m the one apologizing, remember?” Mike teases with a small grin. His fingers drag lazily up and down Will’s spine.
“I know, it’s just a lot is all. I don’t know how to process all of it.” Will admits around a wavering sigh. “All this time. All these years, I thought I was going crazy.”
“Well, we were always going to be crazy together.”
That finally pulls a smile onto Will’s face.
Tear tracks are still staining the pathway down Will’s cheeks. His voice is still slightly raw from all the crying. His chest half-hazardly rises in falls with every shaky breath he takes.
Despite it all, Mike thinks he’s still never looked more beautiful.
“I gave up, so long ago.” Will mutters. His attention downcasted on where his fists are resting over Mike’s heart. “Back at the Squawk, before defeating Vecna, I had lost all hope that there was something there. I thought I had somehow made it all up in my mind, convinced myself it was only a crush.”
Mike thinks back to that evening.
Will sitting there with shaking hands and a quivering voice. His own bottled up confession spilling out for all of them to hear. Mike remembers how everything inside his brain had gone quiet, muffled. Not because he was shocked by what Will said, but how it suddenly explained everything.
Every single one of their looks that lingered too long. Every “accidental” brush of hands that left them both flustered. Every fight that turned to sharp, and every moment after that was filled with everything heavy and unsaid. It had all clicked into place then, for Mike.
Will had liked him for years.
And at the time, Mike was devastated with the idea that he was too late.
“Was it only just a crush?” Mike questions before he can second guess himself, looking down at Will and hoping he’ll raise his eyes back up to meet his own.
It’s like Will somehow hears Mike’s pleading thoughts. He shifts his head to stare up and right into Mike’s soul as he unclenches his fingers and moves them to fall around Mike’s neck. Exactly how he did when they were dancing what’s felt like hours ago.
Mike shifts his hands so they’re holding the small of Will’s back.
“No… looking back, I think it was always love hiding itself in the form of something imaginable. Deep down though, I know I loved him then.” Will explains.
Mike’s brows furrow in confusion for a split second. The past tense drawing up worry inside his stomach.
Will, the annoyingly perfect menace that he is, watches as Mike’s inner turmoil takes over his face. He enjoys it for a couple seconds, probably payback for all the shit Mike’s put him through over the years, but then a comforting palm finds the nape of his neck and Will’s fingers begin carding through the hair resting there.
“And, I know that I still love him now.”
Mike’s hands immediately begin shaking where they’re resting behind Will. He can feel his eyes shining over again, but this time it’s pure happiness causing the tears to build there.
“This guy, he must be quite the looker if he’s been on your mind for this long.” Mike teases, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips.
Will scoffs in fake irritation. Mike can tell he’s joking just by how his eyes are absolutely gleaming an iridescent green under the warm lighting.
“Well, let's see. He does have his height going for him so that’s like a major green flag, but sometimes he can be kind of annoying with how much he’ll talk my ear off. Or, occasionally it’ll be extremely maddening how he’ll only want to watch the same rotation of his three favorite movies-”
“Hey! Star Wars one, two, and three are cinematic masterpieces! I can’t help but want to share my love for them with the world.” Mike protests, nails pinching playfully at Will’s skin in retaliation.
“And yet, we’ve seen all three of them at least over a hundred times.” Will squirms against Mike’s hold. A gentle laugh falling from his lungs.
This.
This right here is all Mike’s ever dreamt of.
Mike stops momentarily. Everything over the last couple minutes starts catching up to his brain and pushes a specific event to the forefront of his mind.
Will said he still loves him.
Will Byers. Mike’s best friend in the entire world. The one being in this lifetime he knows he’s cosmetically intertwined with. His sorcerer.
He loves him.
It’s like the whole universe goes into slow motion for a second. All the years shared between them. All the love poured into each other’s souls. It’s all led to this very moment.
Will searches Mike’s face for any evidence of what internally pulled him away. The hand that isn’t resting in his hair falls back down to its previous place on his chest. His fingers spread out and palm presses solidly into the skin above Mike’s heart. Grounding him.
“You okay?” Will whispers.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Mike reassures.
He raises his hands, one resting against the side of Will’s neck. The other returning to cradle the delicate curve of his jaw.
“I love you too.”
Mike’s final confession.
It’s the last bit of restraint Mike can feel lifting itself from the cage lodged deep inside his soul. There’s absolutely zero hesitation anymore and no invisible weight holding him back when Mike finally, freely surges forward.
He catches Will’s mouth in a desperate, urgent kiss.
Mike’s eyes fall shut straightaway, and a startled noise is dulled against his lips as Will is caught by surprise before melting right into it. Years of grueling repression come pouring out as their mouths slide against each other. Will’s fingers tighten reflexively at the back of Mike’s head, looking for purchase and finding it in the locks of hair threading between his fingers.
Mike audibly groans at the sensation of it, and he would be embarrassed, but Will instantly follows it up with a small whine of his own dampened by Mike’s mouth.
That might be the hottest sound Mike’s ever heard.
Both boys slide together in no particular rhythm. Hands roaming and lips never leaving each other for more than a few seconds. It’s like dancing, kind of. The building of pressure as they become familiar with each other in an entirely new way. Exploring and trying different things to pull more approving sounds past the other’s mouth.
Mike greedily wants more.
He would crawl right into Will’s skin and live there for the rest of his life if he could.
Instead, he falls onto his backup plan of tilting his head just slightly to a new angle so he can swipe the tip of his tongue across the top of Will’s lip, asking for permission.
Mike takes everything back, this is the hottest sound Will has ever made as he allows Mike’s tongue to delve deep into his mouth which ends up pulling a low moan from the back of his throat.
The taste of alcohol remains prominent within the crevices of Will’s mouth as it hits Mike’s tongue rather quickly. Then, almost in waves, he can taste the cereal from this morning. The lingering flavor of a cigarette Will must’ve had at some point during the party. And then, underneath all of it, something that tastes inherently as just Will.
He presses forward even more, hungry and demanding. Licking up the inside caverns of Will’s mouth and destroying any trace of Carlton that might still be there.
Will must realize what Mike’s intentions are, and he only groans in encouragement. His nails giving another experimental tug to edge him on further.
Mike knows he’s already becoming addicted. At first it was just a small fixation that could be managed from afar, but now- he’s gotten a real taste and there’s no controlling the absolute enslavement Will’s mouth is going to have over him.
Almost like they both know the other is needing a short break to regain their breath, Mike pulls back a fraction right as Will does the same. Their labored breathing is the only sound spilling out into the tight space between their lips. Mike nudges his nose against Will’s cheek
“Didn’t realize how good you are at this.” His words are muffled where his lips drag across the underside of Will’s jaw.
“Well-” Will’s breath hitches as Mike’s lips latch onto the soft spot beneath his ear. “I’ve had a lot of practice over the last couple of months.”
Mike slows for a moment. Brain catching up to what Will said. He removes his head from where it was comfortably residing against Will’s neck to shoot the other boy a look of pure distaste.
“Please don’t insinuate what I think you are right now.” Mike warns, fingers squeezing the skin of Will’s hips to help send the point across.
“Why… Does it make you mad?” Will presses, teasing. “Do you want to know how many times I stressed to him that we are nothing but friends.”
The jealousy from earlier licks its way back up from the bottom of Mike’s throat and has him feeling as though he can breathe straight fire. Mike understands he’s being stupid, that he’s the one Will’s choosing to pin himself close against. It doesn’t stop any of the feelings from crashing over him, however.
“Are we?”
“Are you really asking me that right now?”
“Maybe, maybe not. What I am asking is that you never bring him up again, especially tonight.”
“Make me.”
Will’s eyes hardly got to rise in challenge before Mike’s basically throwing himself back onto him.
Every touch becoming a branding. Every kiss laying claim. All of Mike’s movements turning calculated and deliberate, screaming out:
Mine. Mine. Mine.
These kisses are so different from the ones before. There’s not as much desperation behind them. Like they both have realized neither of them are going to change their minds and destroy the other by leaving. It causes a new sense of confidence to take over their bodies and soon they’re pressing even closer together.
Mike’s tongue is gliding deliciously in tune with Will’s own when he experimentally rocks his hips forward. Seeking friction, but not trying to push the other into something he could potentially not want. The hand still glued to Mike’s hair pulls once more, signaling-
It’s ok.
Go for it.
Mike doesn’t need any more convincing.
Emboldened by the hushed whimpers Will is currently sending down his throat, Mike shifts his knee just slightly so that it rests firmly between waiting thighs. Will physically melts where he’s nestled against the kitchen island.
“Oh-” He punches out.
Will throws his head back in pure pleasure, neck exposed and waiting patiently for Mike’s watering mouth.
“Shhh, baby. I got you.” Mike whispers at the base of Will’s throat. He leaves open mouthed kisses across the entire expanse of it, sucking momentarily on the spots he knows will make Will squirm. At the same time, his knee starts picking up a consistent rhythm. Dragging louder moans straight from vocal cords underneath his lips.
“Mike…” Will begs. “Mike, don’t stop.”
Mike hums in acknowledgement, mouth still flush against Will’s neck. He snakes a hand up and towards the collar of Will’s sweater, pulling it slightly down so he can transfer his attention to the collarbone waiting there.
Will’s hips jerk as Mike’s teeth sink into the pale skin. His tongue darts out immediately after, soothing the reddening mark and sucking long enough so it’ll bruise over.
“Did- did you seriously just give me a hickey.” Will asks, voice hoarse and taut.
“Maybe…”
“Omg.”
“What, I want everyone to know your mine.”
Will’s body twitches again.
“Oh, do you like that?” Mike toys his knee along Will’s crotch. He can feel the entire outline of him waiting behind the button of his pants. “Does my sweetheart enjoy people knowing, seeing, who he belongs to?”
Will whines under Mike’s hold.
When Mike lifts his head to take a brief glance up at Will’s face, to make sure he’s still ok, the sight before him has all the air expelling from his lungs and blood rushing straight to his dick. Will’s cheeks are flushed even darker than they were at the house party earlier. His hair is swept carelessly to the side from fingers running through it. And of course, his eyes are staring down at Mike in such an intoxicating manner, he thinks it’s actually making him drunk all over again.
God… how do I deserve you.
“Mike.” Will pulls him back to the present.
His fingers are twisted so deeply in Mike’s curls that when he tugs at them, signaling for him to rise back up to his full height, he goes easily. Will’s actively slowing down their movements.
“W-What’s wrong? Do you want to stop? We can stop if you need to-” Mike starts to worry he’s gone too far before Will quiets his rambling with a soft kiss on his nose.
That shuts him right up.
“No, I don’t want to stop. I just need a second is all.” Will responds, breathing ragged and shallow.
Mike nods, giving him a few minutes. Letting him come down from the edge he was previously barreling towards. Mike’s knee disappears back to its original place so his hips are now bracketing Will’s own against the island again. Not entirely pressing in, but still anchoring them together. He lazily runs his lips over Will’s cheekbones, across his jaw, under the space of his eyes. Anywhere that doesn’t require too much thought or pressure.
When Will relaxes back into Mike’s chest, he takes a hand and pushes the brunette’s sweaty bangs up and off his forehead.
“You’re so fucking pretty, William.” Mike breathes out.
Will flushes, giggling at the compliment. His lips brushing lightly where they rest between the crevice of Mike’s throat and jaw. “You are too, Michael. You’re everything anyone could ever dream of wanting.”
Mike isn’t used to being on the receiving side of compliments. He’s usually always the one giving them out with no expectations for a return. His face heats in moments and has him dropping his head to Will’s shoulder.
“Hey- no, don’t go hiding on me now.” Will’s fingers find their way back into dark curls and pull up. He waits patiently as it’s Mike’s turn to take a second to regather himself. When he notices the embarrassment finally free from the other’s face, Will removes his hands and does something it seems like he’s been itching to do all night.
He slowly, and way more carefully than he needs to, takes Mike’s glasses off of his nose.
Mike’s vision turns fuzzy around the corners, but other than that everything’s still relatively the same. He can still see Will clear and easy, and that’s all that matters.
“There you are.” Will sighs in contentment.
Mike smiles shyly under his gaze. He feels completely and utterly bare under the weight at which Will’s eyes are dragging over.
“Here I am.” He murmurs. “What, do you not like the glasses?”
Will hesitates slightly.
“It’s not that I don’t like them… It’s just more about the fact that they kind of really make you look like your dad, and he’s the last person I want to be thinking about right now.”
Mike actually thinks he’s going to die from this conversation. Embarrassment floods all the way back onto his face and warms his cheeks yet again.
“I mean, you’re dad’s fine and all, but yeah. It just was becoming too uncanny all of a sudden and-”
“Please. Stop. Talking.” Mike reaches his hands up to grab Will’s shoulders and give them a firm squeeze.
They both break into a small fit of laughter after that. And then, without really anything left between them to say, they’re lips find each other in a slow, healing kiss.
Mike runs his fingertips up and down the expanse of Will’s arms. He can feel each individual goosebump igniting under his touch.
“Do you maybe want to go somewhere more comfortable?” He offers.
Will thinks it over for a beat. “Sure.”
Mike nods a little too eagerly, loosening his hold so Will can extract himself from his arms. Similar to earlier in the night, a small hand grabs ahold of Mike’s wrist and carefully leads them towards their bedrooms.
“Mine or yours.” Will asks.
“Mine.” Mike says.
He switches positions then so he’s the one now holding onto Will’s delicate wrist and pulling him past the threshold of his room.
Time seems to move funny once Mike kicks the door closed behind them.
He doesn’t really remember how they started kissing again. If there were more conversations had, or they just immediately went right back into it. His brain has grown extremely fuzzy in certain places. Memory becoming jogged from the intoxicating drug that is Will Byers.
Mike lays with his back flat against his mattress now though.
Will rests easily on top of his thighs, knees straddling around his waist.
He leans over and Mike swallows down a groan as he pushes onto his elbows to meet him halfway. Inside the intimate, safe atmosphere of Mike’s bedroom, their mouths move slowly together. Slower than they have been all night. Mapping every part of each other’s kiss bitten lips with no less heat.
Mike’s hands gradually make their way back to where they belong, molding perfectly into the jut of Will’s hips.
They kiss for what feels like an eternity. An eternity Mike would happily live in for the rest of his life.
But, Will’s movements slowly grow more deliberate as minutes fly by. His soft gasps fall into desperate whines that causes heat to pool low in the base of Mike’s gut. There’s a new pressure that grazes surprisingly over his knuckles and causes Mike to lean back and look.
Will’s fingers have relocated to rest over them, and fairly soon those same fingers are guiding his own to the bottom of his sweater. Mike doesn’t stall in pushing his hands under the hem, nails dragging down Will’s trembling stomach.
“Please Mike.”
“Say that again.”
Will’s skin vibrates under Mike’s touch as he fully lifts himself up so they’re chest to chest. Fingertips still roaming under the entire expanse of the lean body beneath his palms.
“Please Mike.”
How can he say no to that?
Mike drops his head to place a quick, loving kiss to Will’s cheek before he stops his wandering hands so they can wrap around the bottom of the sweater. But, then he halts all of his movements, having a better idea instead.
“Mike-” Will’s voice cracks with worry.
“Let me take care of you.” Mike’s words come out in a hesitant request. Will nods with a soft “okay.”
In one carefully swift movement, Mike wraps his arms back around Will’s body and rotates their positions. It’s clumsy, and it’s new, but it’s absolutely perfect. Will’s laying down on the bed while Mike hovers over him. He lowers his head to place a couple kisses on the brunette’s bruised lips, relaxing Will deeper into the mattress, his hands finding purchase at the hem of the sweater once more.
Mike glances up at Will, waiting for him to nod that it’s ok to keep going, before he shifts farther down and becomes eye level with the small space of Will’s stomach where the fabric has been pushed up.
Mike licks his lips in anticipation.
Will’s cold fingers trace along the strong curve of his jaw with the gentlest touch and Mike’s head spins.
“Can I?” He whispers, puffs of air falling shallowly onto Will’s stomach as he looks up and catches his hooded gaze.
Will nods, but doesn’t verbally answer. His teeth are bitten down into his bottom lip so hard they could draw blood.
“I need your words baby.” Mike refuses to press farther until he knows Will’s still wanting this. All of this.
“Yes, yeah… Mike, Mike, I- please.” Will stammers under his hold. His neck cranes toward the ceiling as his body impatiently writhes in need.
“Shhh, I’m here.” Mike answers Will’s pleas in an all encompassing, worshipping prayer of love as he finally places his lips on the pale skin beneath them. “I’ve got you. Always got you.”
Mike’s fingers move clumsily as they slowly push more of the sweater up his narrow frame, leaving behind open mouthed kisses on each new inch of skin that’s revealed. When he gets to a particularly important spot, Mike makes sure to take his time. Just below his lips, he works a small, loving mark onto the scarred burn at Will’s ribs.
Hoping that somehow, the love that he’s exerting into this kiss will miraculously take away all the pain, torture, and grief Will’s been put through.
Will’s fingers dig crescents into Mike’s shoulder at the sensation. Whimpering and wriggling with each harder suction of lips on skin. When Mike’s satisfied with his work, he returns back to nudging the forgotten sweater up Will’s body and bunches it around his neck before lifting it completely off.
He hears Will suck harshly in through his nose as the cold air hits his bare torso.
Mike’s mind wanders briefly, just for a split second. Unspooling all the moments he’d misunderstood in the past, said the wrong thing. Been afraid to let himself have all of this. And still, Will has stayed. Is loving him despite it right here and now.
I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving my love to you. He thinks fiercely.
“Hey, come back to me.” Will mumbles with a soft tap to his neck.
Mike filters his eyes back to him. His chest aches with how much love is coursing through his veins. He lifts his hand to cup Will’s cheek.
“I love you.” He says it this time like it’s the most important thing in the world. And, isn’t it?
“I love you too, so much.”
Insistent fingers dig deep into the fabric of Mike’s shirt, which he still has on for some reason, pulling in silent request. Mike takes the hint, and in one fell swoop rips the shirt off his lean frame. Will’s nails hungrily drag over his stomach, up his sides, over his ripcage and end their ascent on his collarbones.
“How far are you wanting to go?” Will asks into the darkness surrounding them.
“As far as you want to. I’m here to make sure you feel good in whatever way you’re wanting.” Mike responds, a little too conscious of the way his chest is now entirely bare. Will gives him a warming smile in return as he nods, and every little piece of doubt falls away.
Slowly, Mike’s hands begin moving with intention again. They slide up Will’s spine, tracing every line into memory. The other boy’s breathing turns uneven underneath him and Mike notices immediately. He always does. Adjusting his position, he brings them closer together so there’s hardly any space left.
At some point, Will extends his neck forward so their lips connect in desperate kisses that eventually turn wet and sloppy and have them gasping into each other’s mouths. Mike’s palms slide down from their hold at his sides and latch onto his hips. One of his knees lifting up to spread Will’s legs apart and find its home back between his thighs.
Will’s eyes snap shut at the sudden pressure and he all but keens under him. Mike tears a hand away to grasp Will’s chin.
“Will, hey. Don’t stop looking at me.” He says.
Will whines at the request, nails grazing over the hair at the nape of Mike’s neck before blinking them back open.
“Good baby, just like that. Keep your eyes on me, ok?” Mike praises, his knee picking up a slow grind. Will filthily moans this time, his spine arching off the bed and up into Mike’s stomach, but never taking his eyes away.
Mike tips his head down to mouth along the exposed portion of Will’s neck, and Will helps by tilting to the side further so there’s easier access. His hand burrows deeper into Mike’s hair, guiding him through every kiss and mark tattooed across his skin.
“God Will.” He breathes out, dropping all of his weight onto his forearms as he lowers them to bracket his face.
His knee is moving at an absolute reckless pace. Will’s hips lift up to meet every grind. A steady string of blissful whines erupt with each repetitive movement.
Mike can see from the moonlight flooding through the window how Will’s features practically glow opalescent. His jaw’s hinged, brows lowered in pleasure. Pupils dilated and needy in a way that’s toxic.
This can’t be healthy. How addicted I am to you.
Every breath Will takes feels like a hit going straight into Mike’s bloodstream, and somehow he still needs more.
He drops his head and drags his tongue in tandem with Will’s. He can feel his jeans constricting below his waist, but it’s an afterthought to the saliva collecting somewhere at the back of his mouth. Mike is sprung with the sudden need to let it out.
He pulls away a fraction, lips ghosting over Will’s as his breath fans across his face. Then, while Will’s jaw remains momentarily agape, Mike drops all that building saliva right into his waiting mouth.
Will’s lips automatically close, surprise pulling at the corners of his eyes. Mike nearly passes out on the spot as he watches Will swallow.
“That-” He reels, tongue now dragging over the entire expanse of Will’s collarbones, down his chest. Covering every inch of skin he can in spit slick kisses. “Might’ve been the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Will lets out a huff filled with humor as he shifts his legs wider open.
One of his calves secures the space behind Mike’s legs and gently ushers them forward until both of their hips align together and-
Oh-
There’s no way Mike’s going to last long.
“I need-” Will raggedly exhales, nails digging into Mike’s skin. “Mike, I need more.”
“Easy.” Mike assures, already driving his hips up into Will’s own to relieve some of the aching pressure. “You’re ok, I got you. Do you want me to take these off?”
His fingertips dance along the waistband of Will’s pants.
“Yes- god, please do.”
Mike doesn’t hesitate to pop open the button near his thumb and curl his fingers around the fabric before pulling them down enough to where Will can kick them off. He’s about to dive right back into new unexplored territory when a hand on his chest freezes him.
Will stares up at him from where he’s repositioned himself on his elbows. A look of pure hunger flashes over his face before it’s replaced by something bolder.
“My turn.” He mutters.
Will slides his hands lower down to where they can pull at the zipper of Mike’s jeans and slip in between his belt loops.
“Can I?” Will looks up in question.
“Y-Yeah.” Mike stutters out.
Will moves without hesitation, fingers prying at Mike’s pants with gentle confidence. When his jeans are pooled low enough on his legs, Mike extracts himself for a short second to pull them the rest of the way off before he’s returning back to cover Will’s body with his own.
They both shiver at the bare contact. The only article of clothing keeping them from being completely naked is the snug pairs of boxers still tight around their hips.
“So pretty.” Mike’s voice is muffled as he leans down to run his lips along the line of Will’s jaw.
He steadily starts to pick up a pleasant grind of their hips again and- wow. This is exactly what everyone raves about. The thin layer of fabric now being the only thing separating them allows Mike to feel. Will fingernails drag up and over the entirety of his back searching for purchase as he experiences it as well.
“Mike- holy shit.” Will’s eyes are wide. Palms leaving bruises where they’re gripping Mike’s shoulders like a lifeline. “D-Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
“Never sweetheart.” Mike grinds harder down. His legs burn in a perfect way as one of his hands rests at the band of Will’s boxers. “Do you need these off as well?”
He wants this to be good for Will. He wants to know exactly how and to what degree he needs to push himself so his boy is feeling the best he possibly can. Most importantly, he wants Will to feel comfortable enough to let go.
“N-No. Just keep doing this, I-I’m already close.” Will stumbles over his words. Keeps making these half-clipped moans that are driving Mike crazy.
“Yeah… Yeah. I’m going to take care of you, ok? I’m going to make you feel so good, Will.” Mike doesn’t even care that he’s rambling. Not when he has Will writhing under his hold and their hips are meeting in such delicious friction.
Wordlessly, Will’s arms raise to loop around Mike’s neck, dragging him in and clashing their lips together in a searing kiss. Their mouths open wider, tongues slipping behind teeth and stealing the air from each other’s lungs. The space around them is growing thick and heavy with arousal and desperation bleeds through Will’s loudening noises.
“Mike-” He gasps, and Mike swallows it down his throat with every swipe of his tongue.
He can sense the way Will’s hips are beginning to intense in their speed. How they’re relentlessly grinding up and into his. Mike rubs down even harder on the next motion which causes Will to break their lips apart and throw his head back against the pillow as he produces the loudest moan Mike’s heard tonight.
“Fuck princess.” Mike audibly groans as he stuffs his face into Will’s craned throat, pressing a kiss there.
“Mike, please don’t stop talking.” Will begs. The green in his eyes, arguably the most intoxicating part of the drug that he is, is completely nonexistent currently as Mike looks down at him.
“I won’t. I promise I won’t.” He nods insistently. Snaking his hand down to the curve of Will’s ass so he can control the pace of their hips and change it into something maddening.
Will punches out another moan that sends even more blood right to Mike’s dick.
“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen, Will, and I’m going to make sure to remind you every single day.” He kisses the words into Will’s cheek. Under the curve of his jaw. “There won’t be an hour that goes by where I won’t be worshipping your name and idolizing the ground you walk on.”
Will’s hips automatically jerk against Mike’s hold with each sentence spoken. He savors and stores into memory each and every noise falling out of the brunette’s mouth.
They’re both growing frantic, aggressive.
“You’re mine Will and I’m all yours. You’ll never have to doubt that again.”
The last final string of Will’s composure snaps. He lets out a choked shout and draws himself into Mike’s neck as his hips falter underneath him.
“There you go baby. Let go.” Mike nudges his nose around the shell of Will’s ear, praising him as he grinds through the different waves of his release.
Will is completely boneless as he collapses against the mattress in exhaustion. Hips falling down involuntarily from Mike’s
“D-Don’t stop for me… I want you to come to.” Will’s chest heaves as he catches his breath between words. Mike pauses his movements anyway, worried about overstimulating him as Will’s body continues to shake.
“It’s ok, I don’t want to push you too far.” Mike says, even though it’s taking everything within him not to push his hips back down.
It’s like stopping has made him hyperaware of just how constricting his boxers have become. He can feel that pressure low at the back of his spine, begging to be let out.
There’s no warning as Will’s trembling fingers splay over the entirety of Mike’s jaw. Gripping hard and turning Mike’s face so he’s staring right into Will’s eyes. So he can hear him loud and clear when he commands-
“Michael Wheeler, I swear to god.” To drive his point home, Will musters up enough energy to throw one of his legs around Mike’s waist and pull him back in. “Do. Not. Stop.”
Mike groans in relief as pleasure courses through his entire body once more. He loses himself in it this time.
It doesn’t take long, maybe just a handful of quickening thrusts before that pressure builds up enough and has Mike’s hips spasming his release into the thin fabric of his boxers. It’s like everything unties inside him all at once. His vision turns white and all the air inside his lungs expels itself around the moans falling from his throat. He goes to drop his face in the crook of Will’s neck, but there’s still the firm press of fingers holding up his chin. Keeping him looking straight into Will’s eyes as his body shudders through the waves of his orgasm.
“Eyes on me, remember.” Will’s lips turn upwards as he parrots Mike’s words from earlier.
“Oh my god-” He breathes out and Will takes his hand away so Mike can finally collapse down onto his sweaty skin. “You’re going to be the death of me Will Byers.”
Will only laughs in response and raises his arms to wrap them around Mike’s neck as they lay against each other, relearning how to breathe.
Neither of them rushes to move, letting their skin cool down and legs stop shaking. Time passes in quiet contentment as Mike closes his eyes in the crevice of Will’s neck and Will lazily drags his nails along his spine.
He really doesn’t want to get up. Mike could fall asleep right here in Will’s hold if he tried, but the stickiness in his boxers starts becoming too apparent and he can’t necessarily ignore it for much longer. Pressing himself up onto an elbow, Mike pushes Will’s sweat-slicked hair off of his forehead. He drops a kiss onto the damp skin.
“I’m going to go get a washcloth, ok? Just stay here, I’ll be right back.” Mike whispers and reluctantly gets off the bed so he can make his way to the bathroom.
When he returns a minute later, Will’s still laying on the mattress. His eyes half-closed and hands laying across his stomach in the afterglow of it all. Mike crawls back up beside him, and takes his time running the warm cloth over the expanse of Will’s belly and chest in hopes it’ll help clean the clammy sweat from his skin.
Will contently hums with every swipe of the rag. When he’s satisfied with Mike’s work, he grabs his operating wrist and places a tender kiss on it, signaling for him to stop.
Mike nods in understanding and throws the washcloth somewhere in the shadows of his room.
“You can borrow a pair of my sweatpants if you want.” He offers. “Or shorts, boxers, anything. I don’t mind. It’s all yours now anyway as well.”
Will laughs. “Okay.”
It’s all so excruciatingly normal.
After Mike changes into a fresh set of boxers and Will slips into a pair of Mike’s pajama pants that are way too big for him, they fall back into bed with sated sighs.
Will finds his home for the night against Mike’s chest as Mike pulls the covers over them. His lips are pressed into Will’s hairline as his arms snake up and around his waist.
“You’re like a drug, you know that?” Mike mutters into his hair.
“Wow- that’s romantic.” Will snorts.
“No! No, that’s not-” He sighs, absentmindedly brushing his thumb in circles on Will’s back. “I mean like you’re addictive.”
Will tilts slightly upwards, catching Mike’s gaze.
“It’s like… before this I didn’t realize how much I actually got drunk off being near you, talking to you. Having your eyes on mine.” He gestures with his head. “And now that I’ve gotten a legitimate taste of you, I know I’m never going to be able to quit.”
The words hang between them, unmasked and heavy.
Will shifts closer, resting his forehead on Mike’s collarbone. “That’s… a lot.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Mike closes his eyes in contemplation. “I'm aware it isn’t healthy, but it’s honest.”
A soft laugh falls from Will’s mouth as he exhales shakily through his nose. “You know, you’re really good at doing this thing where you say stuff like this and it just… wrecks me, right?”
“Yeah, I might’ve noticed.” Mike smiles as warmth spreads through his entire body.
He unlocks a hand from around Will’s waist and cups his face, thumb rubbing reverently underneath one of his eyes.
“I love you, and I’m not going anywhere anymore.”
A pause.
“I love you too, and I’ll love you for as long as time allows me.”
Mike nods, something raw and deep in his chest bleeding out into his bones.
Love.
He leans down just a fraction so he can press a kiss to Will’s waiting lips.
Mike knows he should probably be afraid of wanting someone, loving someone this much.
Instead, he feels drunk on it.
And he lets himself stay here and enjoy it for as long as the universe will grant him.