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Mike gazed up at the ceiling of his room. It was painted a mid-tone blue, like the rest of his walls, but a long, curving crack in the shape of a cursive W also occupied the smooth paint. It had been there for as long as he could remember. And, also for as long as he could remember, he’d stared up at it every night, coming up with as many words beginning in W as possible.
Whale, Won’t, Wick, Wall, Want- And the most prominent, Will .
Will Byers sat across from him, leaned up against the wall at the other side of the bed, sketching in a thickly bound sketchbook. It was propped against his thighs, his legs bent at the knee. He looked to be using a charcoal pencil, because he had a bit smudged here and there on his face. Underneath his eye, just by his nose. Across his forehead. Against his upper lip. Headphones were clenched tightly over his ears. He was working diligently, his tongue between his teeth.
Mike sighed and slumped back against the headboard, his head hitting the wood with a dull thump. He felt stupid around Will sometimes. Mike had no talent, none at all. Will could do things, he could draw, he could make things, but Mike could do nothing. He felt inadequate, irrelevant.
That must’ve been while El had broken up with him. He didn’t ever live up to anybody's expectations.
Will and Jonathan were staying over at the Wheeler's until the Byers could find another suitable living situation here in Hawkins. Mike hated it. He hated having to be so close to Will all the time. He hated having to be so close to the guilt that was eating at his chest, crushing his ribs. Crushing his heart.
Mike was an asshole.
He was well aware of that, actually.
But Will brought out the best in him. Being around Will might hurt, but he wanted to make it better, wanted to make up for the months of not talking. Needed to make up for it.
“Hey Will?” He said into the silence, tone scratchy.
Will pulled off his headphones immediately- whatever he was listening to must’ve been quiet enough to hear through. He turned off his walkman with a click, and looked up questioningly at Mike.
“Mhm? You good?” Will’s voice had gotten so much deeper over the last few months. The way his words tumbled over each other, passing his lips in a whisper, a scream, a sigh. The way he enunciated his E’s, the way he said Mike’s name- it sent shivers down Mike’s spine, sent warmth pooling in his stomach.
“Yeah. Just… bored.” His own voice was awkward. That was the only word for it. It cracked easily- and frequently- and he was well aware that half the time he sounded as if he were whining.
Will raised his eyebrow. “And?”
Mike felt almost stung. “I mean, I thought we could talk, maybe?”
Will shrugged. “Okay.”
There was a thick silence. Mike hated this. They weren’t supposed to be like this, they were supposed to know what to talk about.
“I called.” Mike blurted out, hands twisting together in his lap. He knew, he knew he shouldn’t have said it. He knew it was a stupid idea to even bring it up in the first place.
Will furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”
Mike looked down, shame prickling in his stomach. “When you were in Lenora. I called.”
“You did?”
“Your mom- her job- I… I didn’t know about it until a couple months ago. I didn’t know…” Mike looked up at Will. “The line was always busy.”
Mike watched Will’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry. For not telling you before. That I called, I mean. I was… I don’t know.” He looked down at his lap, running his tongue across his teeth.
“You say you don’t know a lot of things.” Will’s voice was stiff. “But I know why you didn’t say anything.”
Mike’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“You were ashamed.” Will’s voice was barely above a whisper, but held a cold tone that Mike had barely ever heard. “You were ashamed that you actually cared enough to call.”
Mike swallowed. Will was right. Mike didn’t want to admit it to himself, but Will was right. “I…” He didn’t know what to say. “I don’t-”
“See?” Will shook his head. “You’re ashamed, and there are s o many reasons why that could be. I just don’t know which one it is. I don’t know what could make you so ashamed of wanting to stay in contact with your best friend.” Will’s voice was almost toneless. Almost.
Mike felt sick. “I’m not ashamed, Will, I…” But he didn’t know how to finish that sentence. He didn’t know how to lie to Will.
WIll shook his head. “Mike.”
“No, I- I’m not, I promise. I promise Will, I’m not ashamed- I told you, I’m sorry for California, you are my best friend and I just-”
“Shut up.” Will said softly.
“What?”
“I said, s hut up!” Will’s voice shook, teeth clenched, and Mike felt the impulse to back up against the headboard. Will never raised his voice like that.
“Will-”
“No. No, I am so done with your bullshit, Mike!” Will was standing now, sketchbook and Walkman abandoned on the creamy white duvet. His whole body was trembling all over. “You- you don’t get it, do you?” He laughed, a singular, sarcastic laugh. “You. Hurt. Me.”
Mike felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He looked up at the ceiling. Water, Walk, Wait. “I know.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.” Wistful, Winter, Wash.
Wash all those disgusting feelings away, Mike. Wash.
“But do you know?” Will shook his head, eyes hectic. “You hurt me so bad. Last summer, I mean. Apologizing won’t do shit.”
Mike knew that. His eyes itched but he couldn’t cry. He couldn’t cry, not now.
“We’ve been friends since kindergarten, Mike. That’s almost ten years.” Will turned away from Mike. “And then you just- decided to abandon me? For El?” He sighed shakily. “I love El, she’s my sister. But you and I… we were best friends. We did everything together. And I…” He trailed off. “I thought all those years meant more to you.” The anger on Will’s face hadn’t faded, but his eyes were shining. “I thought- I thought I meant more to you.” His voice cracked.
Mike felt the lump in his throat grow. He hated when Will was mad at him. He hated the fact that the look on Will’s face, the wet, hopeless eyes, furrowed eyebrows, trembling lip- that was because of him.
“Will-”
“And now. Now, you’re acting like everything’s fine, but you can’t even look me in the eyes .” He chuckled lifelessly, eyes shut tight. “In California- you wouldn’t hug me, Mike. You go up to Eleven with a fucking bouquet and kiss the shit out of her, and I’m standing over here with a painting I spent months on, and you give me a pat on the back.” His voice had raised a lot, and he gestured wildly at the painting on the wall.
“Didn’t El-”
“No.” Will interrupted. “No, El didn’t commission shit.”
“Oh.” Mike swallowed, thoughts racing a hundred miles an hour.
“I slaved over that painting. I thought- I don’t know- I thought you’d be thrilled and-” Will slumped a little. “You didn’t care. You only cared when it was from her.” His eyes fluttered closed. “What I said in the van, about how much she needed you- none of that was about her. Her breaking up with you is enough evidence for that.” His voice had a bitter edge.
“You mean… everything you said-” Mike started, feeling a twinge of anger in his stomach. “That was a lie? To make me feel better?” He inhaled. “You didn’t actually think that?” He stood up to reach Will’s level again. “You lied?” He was angry. He also knew he had no right to be. He knew that wasn’t fair.
He knew this was his fault.
Will’s hair had fallen in front of his face, and when he looked up, his eyes were dark. “I didn’t just make it all up, Mike.” He muttered.
“What’d you mean, then?” Mike was aware of the filthy edge to his voice. “What-”
“I meant all of it!” Will cried, and Mike fell back onto the mattress in a slump, stunned. “I meant everything, Mike! Every. Fucking. Word.” His tone was harsher than Mike had ever heard it. “You don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it. Everything I said-” His anger broke off into a sob and he wiped the back of his hand across his face.
Part of Mike wished he could just reach out and wrap him in a hug. The other part knew he couldn’t. West, Waste, Want.
Want.
“It was about me, Mike.” Will’s face was bright red, his lip trembling. “I can’t lose you. I feel different, I feel like a mistake and you make me feel better about it!” He was shaking his head, hard and fast enough that Mike wouldn’t be surprised if he got whiplash.
“I…I didn’t make anything up.” His voice had finally lost its bite and tears now slid down his face at record speed. “Mike, I-” He cut himself off, swaying slightly.
Mike’s eyes widened. It was like the missing puzzle piece had slid into place. It was like a lightbulb had gone off above his head. His shame had quickly turned into a hot sort of embarrassment, but not the bad sort. Not at all.
He stood again, just an inch and a half taller than Will, and grabbed his jaw. Will stared at him, stunned. “You what?” Mike asked. He needed to know. He needed to be sure .
“I… I feel- I-” Will shook his head, tears sliding down his face. “Don’t make me say it, Mike. Please.” It was painfully near a beg. He looked miserable.
Mike never wanted Will to be miserable.
Mike leaned forward, tilting his head in the slightest, aiming to kiss Will. Before he could, Will jerked away, his eyes angry again. “What the hell?” Will cried, taking a step back.
Mike felt his heartbeat rush in his ears. He felt helpless. Everything he did and said- it was wrong. This entire conversation had been fuck up, after fuck up, after fucking fuck up. Did he read what Will said wrong? Did he- how- how did he always fuck up?
“Did you not-” Mike cut himself off, face red. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked. That wasn’t cool.”
Will stared at him. “Are you fucking with me?” he asked, incredulous.
Mike shook his head quickly. “No, Will, of course not, I-”
“No, no, I don’t believe this.”
“Will, I was dealing with a lot of stuff. In California and now too, but I’m trying to get better. I promise. I was scared, and I still am, but that’s not an excuse. I’m not- I fuck up. A lot. I hurt you, bad, and I’m really sorry.” Mike looked at his hands. “But I realized something, and I think El did too. I think that’s why she broke up with me.” Mike took a deep breath. “I’m… I’m queer. I’m gay.” The words felt foreign on his tongue. “And unless I’m reading this wrong, you…” Mike trailed off.
Will was shaking his head rapidly. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.” He looked up at Mike, eyes fearful. “That’s not fair, Mike. That’s not fair.”
“Will, I have feelings for you.” Mike said quietly. His heart was pumping in his chest. He didn’t understand.
“Stop.” Will whispered. “Just stop.” He shook his head, looking at the floor. “You put me through hell, Mike. For months, and I just had to deal with all these unnatural, fucked up feelings. And now you’re just telling me you, what, like me?” Tears were streaming down his face. “That’s just mean .”
“You think being in love with you hasn’t been hell for me too?” Mike asked in a barely audible tone. He immediately wished he hadn’t said it.
“What, you’re in love with me now?” Will asked bitterly.
Mike felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest. But he had to make this better. He’d fucked everything up but he needed to make this better. He needed to fix this.
“Yes. I am.” Mike said, more confidently, despite the tears rolling down his cheeks. “Will, listen to me, okay?”
Will looked at him, fluttered his eyes closed briefly, and nodded. “Okay.”
“You’re right. About everything. I couldn’t hug you in California- I’d been thinking about you too much. And, I don’t know, as soon as I walked into that airport and saw you, I just knew I couldn’t do it. So I went up to El first, and kissed her like a boyfriend is supposed to do. And then I gave you the bro- est hug I could.” Mike shook his head with a dull laugh.
“Bro-est isn’t a word,” Will sniffed with a laugh and oh thank god he was laughing.
“I know. But it wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t, and I wanted to hug you, Will, I really did.” Mike closed his eyes. “I wrote you letters too. They’re in my desk drawer, right over there.” Mike motioned aimlessly, red faced. “I just couldn’t send them. They were like, fuck, I don’t know, journal entries.” He screwed up his face. “You can read them. If you- if you want.”
He took in a deep breath, not making eye contact with Will. “I had- I had feelings for you. That’s why I was being an ass, I was- I didn’t want to admit that to myself. But I realized how completely shitty I was acting, so I apologized. I thought that would make up for it, but it didn’t, and I know that actions speak louder than words and all that, but I’m sorry.” A sob swelled in his chest. “I’m really fucking sorry.” he swallowed the sob. “I want to do better.”
Will stared at him, his own eyes wet. “I want to say it’s okay, but it’s not,” Will muttered, and Mike swallowed thickly, heart sinking. “You shouldn’t have acted like that, and it really hurt me, but- but I….” Will trailed off. “I fucked up too. I shouldn’t have lied and I shouldn’t have yelled and I’m really sorry.” He swiped a hand across his face. “We both made mistakes.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Mike said quietly, his heart rate returning to a relatively normally painful speed. “I fucked everything up worse.”
Will laughed, the sound coming out a bit choked. “You kind of did, didn’t you?” He said with a crooked smile.
Mike shook his head, the edge of his lips turning up a bit as he wiped at his face. “Yeah. I did.”
Mike looked down for a moment before looking up again. He opened his arms wide, the universal motion for “hug?” Will stared at him and for a second Mike was worried that Will would yell at him again, but he just took a deep breath and leaned into the embrace. Mike wrapped his arms around Will tightly, whispering a small “ I’m so sorry,” into his hair.
It felt so good to hold Will like this. He felt so familiar that it made Mike’s chest a ache.
There was a long silence, in which Mike could hear nothing but the rush of his heart in his ears. “Had?” Will finally muttered into Mike’s shirt, voice small. “You said you… you had feelings for me?”
Mike felt his face grow warm. “Have.” He corrected. “I have feelings for you.”
Will slowly detangled himself from Mike’s arms and Mike had that feeling of oh shit, did I fuck up again? Please don’t tell me that I fucked up again.
But Will just gave him a soft look. “Mike.”
“Yeah?”
“If I kissed you right now, would you promise to never leave me alone again?” Will’s voice broke a bit at the end.
Mike inhaled shakily. “I promise, I promise a million times that as long as you want me, I’ll be right here.”
And he meant it. Oh god, he meant it.
Mike felt a telling itch from behind his eyes and Will reached out a hand to brush the place right beneath his right eye with his thumb, wiping away unfallen tears. Mike shivered, a hot blush creeping up his neck.
“You’re so dramatic.” Will muttered with a soft chuckle.
Mike narrowed his eyes. “Fuck you, you were being just as cheesy! And sure, I want to kiss you, a lot actually, but I meant it!” He suddenly didn’t need to cry anymore.
Will grinned. “No, I like it. I like cheesy romantic stuff.”
Mike raised his eyebrows, stomach bubbling with warmth. “So we’re romantic now?” He breathed, surprised at the sudden switch.
Will leaned forward a bit, taking Mike’s jaw in his hand. “If you want us to be.” Will’s voice was low and soft and rolled over just the right syllables to send bolts of electricity straight to Mike’s gut.
It was everything Mike had ever wanted to hear.
“What do you think?” Mike asked, and before Will could answer, leaned forward to press their foreheads together. “Can I kiss you?”
Mike watched a gorgeous blush skirt over Will’s cheeks and nose as he nodded. “No more drama this time. No more dumb paintings or fighting in the rain or, I don’t know, ignoring each other.”
“I promise.” Mike vowed, bringing his hand up to Will’s face to slip his pinky and ring finger above Will’s ear, and his index, middle and thumb under it. Doing this felt natural despite the maybe awkward position, and the tug of desire in Mike’s gut screamed at him to kiss Will. “I do love the painting though.” Mike reassured softly. “Especially the dragon- it’s pretty fucking amazing and-”
“Mike.” Will interrupted, his gaze soft, lips slightly parted, and oh, shit, he looks so pretty like this -
“Yeah?” Mike breathed, suppressing a shudder.
“Please just shut up for once.”
“Okay.”
Will surged forward, pressing his lips to Mike’s, finally, after what felt like hours of stalling and Oh . Oh . Oh fuck. Will’s mouth was soft but firm, and Mike felt fireworks explode in his gut. MIke slipped his hand back to the side of Will’s head. It was so much better. Better than what? Better than kissing a girl, for one. Better than anything Mike’s brain could come up with, alone in the warm silence of his room.
Now he wasn’t alone.
They pulled away from each other, breathing in tandem. “Wow.” Mike breathed.
“Wow’s right,” Will laughed breathlessly. “That was really fucking good.”
Mike swallowed down his pride. “You wanna go again?” He asked tentatively, and Will answered by leaning forward again.
He pressed Will against the headboard, hovering over his lap to kiss him from higher up. This new angle felt very good. Mike raised his hands and tangled them in Will’s short choppy hair, tugging experimentally. Will made a sound against his lips and Mike was almost scared he’d done something horribly wrong, but Will just kissed him harder.
Will was more skilled with his lips than Mike had originally thought, moving them in just the right way to send bolts of pleasure straight to Mike’s gut. Maybe he’d had practice. In California. But the thought of Will kissing other people made Mike’s stomach coil, so he pushed it away.
Will ran his hands up Mike’s torso, riding his shirt up, and Mike felt like he could just about groan. The feelings, everything- it was almost overwhelming, but in a really, really good way.
He never wanted it to stop.
They lay there later, tangled up in each other, much too late to be socially acceptable, but neither one minded much. Will’s head was pressed against Mike’s chest, arms around his waist. Mike, who had never been touched that much before in such a short period of time before (or at all), was feeling slightly fuzzy around the edges from all the kissing.
He loved it. He had wanted to keep making out with Will forever , but eventually they’d had to stop. Lying here with him was good too. Doing anything with Will was good too.
He stared up at the cursive W’s, trying to will himself to compile a list like he usually did. But he could only come up with one word.
Because the only thing accompanying his mind was Will.