Archive of Our Own ^beta

The group was still reeling from Dustin’s amazing Valedictorian speech when the last person Will expected would approach them, did just that. 

“Hey,” Stacey said, her eyes set on Dustin. 

Dustin had stopped playfully shoving Lucas to greet her. “Hey, Stacey,” he replied. 

The group stayed silent. It was quite a surprise to see her speak to them. Sure, she’d been in the cheerleading team, meaning that she was familiar with Lucas — who had rejoined the basketball team in Junior year — but that was where their interactions stopped. 

“I just wanted to say what you did up there was pretty badass,” she said. 

Dustin appeared surprised. Will knew that girls had been out of the question for Dustin ever since he and Suzy broke up before Junior Year. A lot happened, but he said the long distance had been a factor. “Oh. Thanks. I was kind of just going for a bit of a Belushi thing,” Dustin explained and although Stacey appeared confused, he continued talking. “But if he was in like a Hughes film. But I don’t know… Does that make sense?”

She didn’t have the chance to reply because Dustin already spoke over her. “That’s okay if you…” 

“Yeah… No, totally–” Stacey said, nodding. Will doubted that. 

Dustin raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” she hummed a little awkwardly. “Okay, cool.” 

“What did I say?” Dustin whispered, helplessly looking at them. 

“Dude,” Will whispered back. He wanted to urge him to fix it, but to his surprise, Stacey turned back around. 

“Hey, so, I’m having a party later tonight. You guys should come,” she suggested, her eyes still on Dustin as she smiled at him one last time before turning back to her friends. 

Had that just happened? Will thought excitedly. 

“Wait,” said Will.

“Did that just happen?” Dustin asked, thinking what he was thinking. 

“Should we– Should we go?” Will asked, barely able to conceal his excitement. 

Dustin gave him another playful shove. 

“Uh, is that rhetorical?” said Lucas jokingly. 

“No,” replied Mike. “Screw that.”

Dustin’s eyes widened. “Mike!”

“Mike!” the three of them said in unison. 

It took a while to convince Mike. Will didn’t understand why he wasn’t keen on going. He said he had a better idea on how to spend their night, but when they asked him, he shook his head and eventually gave in. By eight, the boys were getting ready for it. While Dustin and Mike were dressing up and pregaming at their own place, and Lucas was having dinner with his parents, Max had taken Will under her wing for what she dubbed to be a necessary hair makeover. 

They were currently standing by his bathroom sink. She had washed and conditioned his hair, and was currently waving a pair of scissors too close to his face. She grabbed his chin, moving his head around a little before nodding, taking the scissors and snipping away at his bangs. 

“Just a snip here that Joyce won’t notice,” she mumbled. 

“Are you sure?” Will asked. It wasn’t as though his mother would be angry at him changing his hair — unless he dyed it bright yellow or something — but Will didn’t want anything too drastically different. 

He liked his hair, but there were times that it was not as versatile as he hoped. 

“Totally,” said Max. “This is our first party together. You’ll be so far away from me in the Fall that we won’t have a chance to do this.” 

Will looked up at her. “Could you put a bit of hair gel in it, too?”

“Steve Harrington kind of gel or a light swab?”

“Light,” Will laughed. “Very light.”

Max laughed, reaching out to take hair gel from the bag she’d brought. “If you let me style your hair again before going to college, I’m sure the boys will dig it.” 

Will hadn’t thought of that, really. Although NYC wasn’t San Fran levels of gay, he had thought about it. The men there. The gay people. Perhaps he’d find a bar there, a friend group of people like him. There was no way that these people would replace his friends at Hawkins. But, it would be nice to have homosexual friends. All his friends had girlfriends at one point; he was never able to relate to them in that way. But to have a group where he could be comfortable with and speak to them about having a crush; that would be nice. Tips on how to get a boyfriend. A husband, if that would ever be possible. 

Yeah, Will would like that. 

“Daydreaming about it, already?” Max asked teasingly.

Will chuckled, shaking his head. “Just thinking about college, honestly. If I could find people like me.” 

Max smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Not if,” she said. “You will.” 

He really hoped so. I mean, even here in Hawkins, where he thought he was an anomaly, he found Robin. That had really saved him. 

Max finished up, picked out an outfit for him — plain black pants, green-striped Adidas shoes and a loose patterned shirt — and they headed out. Max on her skateboard, while Will took his bike. They met up with Mike and Lucas as they biked up to Dustin’s place, who lived closest to Stacey. They rode in a loose line down the streets, four bikes and a skateboard riding in the summer heat. Lucas was singing Careless Whisper so loudly Will wondered if he managed to sneak in a sip during dinner. Will pedaled behind the others, though not slow enough to irritate anyone, watching the way Mike’s shoulders hunched forward.

Will knew how Mike rode his bike. He’d seen him do too many times to count. Tonight, his back was stiff, elbows tucked in tight, pedaling too fast for the gentle downhill they were on. Every so often he glanced back, as if he was checking whether someone was following them, or maybe he was looking at Will. If there was a reason for that. But Will wouldn’t think too much of it. There had been a time when he’d misinterpreted these shared looks. 

“Hey,” Will called, lifting a hand from his handlebar. The others were laughing about Dustin almost clipping a mailbox. When Mike didn’t say anything, Will let his hand fall and pushed a little harder, closing the gap between himself and his best friend.

They turned onto a street with wider lawns and taller trees. The pavement smoothed out and at the end of the block, Stacey’s house came to light. 

They rolled to a stop on the grass by the driveway, leaning bikes against one another in a clumsy pile, with Max hiding her skateboard in the high grass. Music thumped through the open windows, and Will’s stomach swelled. Their first High School party. Or well, Will’s first party. Lucas had been to a few before and Max sometimes tagged along. But, this was their first party together as a group. 

They hadn’t even stood at the door for a minute before it swung open. Stacey grinned wide, her hair glossy and perfect. “You made it!” she shouted over the music. “Come in, come in.” She pulled at Dustin’s arm and the group followed them inside. 

They stepped inside and were immediately pulled apart by the large population of teenagers present. Dustin had disappeared with Stacey, Max and Lucas had disappeared to the kitchen yet Mike was still standing near the entryway. 

Up close, Will could see the tension in his face, the way his mouth pressed into a line. “You okay?” Will asked a little loudly, trying to be audible over the music. 

Mike shrugged. “Yeah. Just–” He stopped, glanced toward the group of dancing people with solo cups in their hands. “It’s a lot, you know?”

Will nodded. He knew. It was a feeling he had everyday, but he knew that his sister had done it for them. He always wished for her to live a normal life, where she could have these experiences too. But Jane’s choice was one no one could’ve talked her out of. Not even him, not even Mike. “We don’t have to stay,” he said. “We can just say hi and bail. Or, I don’t know, count how many rooms it probably has.”

That got a faint smile. “Too many,” Mike joked. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll be fine.”

“Tell me when you’re bored,” Will said, smiling. “Then we can ditch this and play some D&D.” There was something there, a slight change in expressions from Mike, but he brushed those thoughts aside. He cleared his throat. 

“Okay.” He clapped Will on the shoulder, a quick squeeze. “Thanks.”

The music grew louder as he moved deeper into the house, the radio played songs he recognized without knowing their names. Honestly, Jonathan would be disappointed. He hovered near the edge of the living room, hands in his pockets, bopping his head along to the songs. He walked toward the kitchen, hoping to find Lucas and Max there, but they had disappeared somewhere else. Probably hooking up, Will thought. 

A folding table had been set up against the wall with bottles and Solo Cups lined up. Will didn’t usually drink. He never had the time to go to High School parties, so, the first time he drank, it was in Dustin’s bedroom with his friends. Mike had drunk a bit too much beer and threw up in the bathroom, nearly traumatizing Will into never drinking again. After that had become a core memory, they’d done it a few more times. Lucas did drink on occasion but Max didn’t, so he mostly stayed sober for her. 

Will picked up a bottle anyway, turning it slowly to read the label. Bartles & Jaymes. He frowned, set it down and reached for another. This one dark and heavy with a skull on it that made him put it back quickly. He read every bottle like they were books he might check out, flipping them over to read the alcohol percentages.

“Careful,” a voice said, close to his ear. “That one’s definitely been responsible for people’s diabetes.”

Will nearly dropped the bottle he was holding. He turned, seeing that his boogeyman had been Chance Perez, former basketball team player. His hair was messy and he was wearing his letterman jacket, blue jeans and a white t-shirt.  “Hey, Byers,” Chance greeted him.

“Uh, hi, Chance,” he said back, wanting to facepalm himself at how awkward he sounded.

“So, what’s your juice?” Chance asked. 

Will raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Drink of choice?”

“Oh. I– I actually don’t drink a lot. First party.” 

“Really?” Chance appeared surprised. “Shit. Well, you’re glad the right person came to you, then.” Their arms brushed against each other as Chance reached out to grab a bottle of an off-brand beer. “Let’s start it a little mildly.” 

He filled two Solo Cups and handed him one.

Will accepted it. “Thanks.”

“You know,” Chance began, taking a brand Will had looked at earlier. “I don’t know why Stacey would offer this.”

Will laughed, a short, embarrassed sound. “Is it that bad?”

“It’s not bad,” Chance said. “It’s just… If you’re going to drink, at least pretend you have taste.”

“Wow,” Will said. “And here I was thinking this was a judgment-free zone.”

Chance’s grin softened. “I’m kidding. Mostly.” He held his cup up. “This is less likely to give you a headache.”

“You sound experienced.”

“Perks of being older.”

“Are you? When’s your birthday?” Will asked. Although he and Chance had been in Middle School together, they didn’t know each other that well. 

“July 4th.”

“Patriotic,” Will quipped. “But I’m the older one. March twenty second.”  

Chance whistled. “Damn, you’re ancient.”

Will felt his cheeks heat up. 

“So,” Chance continued, taking a sip of his drink. “How come we never spoke? Lucas and I played ball together for three years.”

“I came to games, but I never got the hang of it,” Will explained, recalling late nights when he’d watch games with Lucas while they were definitely supposed to do homework. But hey, they graduated. “I don’t think we would’ve clicked.”

Chance smirked. “Good thing that I don’t solely care about basketball.”

Idiot, Will thought. I am a total idiot. Of course he didn’t. Jocks didn’t only care about the games they played. He knew that. Lucas was a perfect example of it. “That’s not what I meant, I–”

Chance put a hand on his shoulder, smiling. “Relax. It’s okay,” he reassured him, rubbing his shoulder a little. “So, what do you like? Maybe we can see if we have something in common.” 

“I like art; drawing, painting… All that stuff,” Will said. Chance’s hand felt heavy on his shoulder. Normally, people would remove it after some time. Right? “DnD, but I think you know that. My brother introduced me to The Clash, and those bands but I’m also a big fan of Bon Jovi–”

“No way,” Chance laughed.

Oh no. He thought that Bon Jovi was popular. Was that gay? But he thought, well Max liked Bon Jovi, but Max was a girl. The kitchen wasn’t that crowded. Will could escape easily. But what Chance said next took Will by surprise. 

“I love Bon Jovi!” he practically shouted. “Their album New Jersey is like, Rock n Roll hall of fame levels of good. You know, I was thinking about doing my hair like Jon Bon Jovi in Freshman year…” He ran a hand through his hair, not fixing how messy it looked. But perhaps that had been intentional. “Let it grow out a little, but my mom laughed in my face. I think they’d dig it, though.” 

“The ladies?” Will asked, trying to test something. 

“Anyone, really,” said Chance, his brown eyes briefly flicking down to his lips. 

Anyone, anyone, anyone. His mind kept repeating that word over and over. And Chance had looked at his lips. Or, maybe Will had imagined that, too. There was no way Chance Perez was trying to give him hints. Chance was Chance. He’d seen him walk around with a girl wrapped around him. He was the kind of guy to have posters with his number held high during games. Chance wasn’t interested in Will. He would probably be disgusted by Will even thinking about it. He was drinking and being friendly. That was it. Yeah. 

Suddenly, Will felt a hand on his waist and was brought back to earth. Chance let out a short laugh, putting his hand away. “You zoned out on me.” 

Yeah, he hated him, Will thought. “Sorry.”

Chance pouted, leaning in a little closer. “Am I that boring?”

“No, you’re nice. I just–” He pointed to his cup. “I’m going to finish it,” he said awkwardly, bringing the cup to his lips. 

“Go ahead. No one is stopping you.” 

He was such an idiot. 

They stood there awkwardly for a moment, neither really talking. Thankfully, a deux es maxima came in Andy, who opened the kitchen door. He was red in the face, clearly drunk already, and smiled when he saw Chance. “Chance!” Andy shouted. “Stop chitchatting and come play pong with me.” 

Chance began to walk back out of the kitchen. He turned to Will. “You’re coming?”

“Do you want me there?” Will asked. Even after he embarrassed himself? 

“I practically ditched Andy earlier to speak to you,” Chance admitted. “He’ll be kind of pissed off if you don't come.” 

“Okay, sure,” said Will, smiling shyly. 

The beer pong table had been set up in what was technically the dining room. A long wooden table had been pushed against the wall to make room for the folding table, red cups arranged in a perfect triangle at either end. 

“Hey, Byers,” said Andy, nudging him with his elbow. “You play?”

“Beer pong?”

Andy glanced at Chance with a confused expression and then back at Will. “Yeah.”

“I mean. I know what it is.”

“That’s a no, then,” said Chance, smiling.

“I’ve just never–” But Will quickly stopped himself, realizing that explaining himself wouldn’t help him at all. He shrugged. “I can learn.”

Chance grinned. “Perfect.” He steered him towards the table. 

On the other side of the table stood Andy and another boy from the basketball team. He was still as tall and broad as he’d always been. Though he didn’t scare Will that much anymore, as at the end of Sophomore year, the basketball team had apologized to all of them. To Dustin, for beating him up, to Lucas, for what happened with a boy named Jason. They had been civil with one another since then. 

“Please go easy on him,” said Chance to Andy.

Andy snorted. “We’ll see.”

Someone handed Will a ping-pong ball.

“Okay,” Chance said quietly, leaning in and putting a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Basic rules. You bounce or you throw, try to land it in a cup. If you make it, they drink. If we both make it in the same cup, it’s gone. Last cup, redemption shots, all that.”

Will nodded, trying to remember the rules as best as he could. No way he’d piss these people off. He rolled the ball between his fingers, took a breath, and threw it toward the cups.

It arced, kissed the rim, and dropped into the center cup.

For a beat, there was silence, aside from the music playing. But then Chance laughed loudly and threw his hands up. “Hell yeah!” 

Will’s eyes met Chance. “That was that good?”

“That was perfect.” He bumped Will’s shoulder with his own. “Beginner’s luck.”

Across the table, Andy rolled his eyes, grabbed the cup and downed it. He glanced at Will again, this time looking irritated. “Your turn,” he said.

As the game continued, Will surprised himself again and again, balls mostly falling into the cup. He missed sometimes, of course, but more often than not they landed in perfectly.

“Don’t get cocky,” Chance murmured after Will had another win, his breath warm against Will’s ear.

“I’m not,” Will said, though he felt something like pride. It was nice to play like this. Although he wished it had been with his friends, Chance wasn’t that bad of a partner. He subtly glanced at his face, watching how Chance’s brows furrowed in concentration as he watched the ball’s path. Andy grew quieter as the game went on, his jaw tightening with every cup he lost. When he did speak, it was very passive aggressive. At one point, when Will bent down to pick up a ball that had rolled under the table, he felt Andy’s eyes on him. 

“You play sports?” Andy asked, out of nowhere.

Will shook his head. “Not really.”

“Huh,” the best friend said. “You’re good with balls.”

“What?” said Will, eyes widening. Had he heard that correctly?

“Nothing,” said Andy flippantly. 

As the cups began disappearing, the energy around the table had gone up. People were chanting his name in a way they hadn’t done before. The last time eyes had been on him that much was when he was Zombie Boy. It was the kind of attention he had hated, but this? This was nice. He was… liked. 

“You got this,” Chance whispered. 

Will nodded. He bounced the ball once on the table, watched it skim the surface, and drop into the last cup.

The room erupted into cheers; people shouted his name. They laughed, cheered and drank. Chance was practically whooping, grabbing Will by the shoulders and pulling him into a quick hug. “We won,” he said, incredulous and thrilled. “Holy shit! This is the first time I won against Andy, like ever.”

Andy set the cup he had down harder than necessary. “Rematch later,” he muttered, already turning away.

Will laughed, a little breathless, and looked at Chance. “Beginner’s luck, like you said.” 

“I’d been wrong,” Chance said, his brown eyes gleaming, tanned cheeks slightly flushed. Without warning, he bent his knees and jumped, colliding with Will in a solid chest bump.

The impact almost knocked the air from his lungs. He staggered back a step, caught himself, and forced a laugh that sounded almost convincing. “Yeah!” Will said, even as his chest throbbed. “Totally.”

Chance landed, but his smile faltered when he saw Will’s face. “Hey.” He reached out. “You good?”

“Fine,” Will replied automatically. He straightened his shoulders.

Chance tilted his head, studying him for a second. Then he stepped closer, close enough that the noise of the party seemed to fade. “I should’ve given you a warning before doing that. Did I hit you too hard?” he asked.

Before Will could reassure him that he was fine, Chance's hand came up, resting flat against his chest, right over the spot that he hit. Will froze. Chance’s touch was warm and intimate in a way that made his thoughts go wild.

“It’s fine. Really.”

Chance’s brow furrowed. He pressed a little more gently, as if testing. “You sure? I was a little rough on you.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Will reassured him. He was acutely aware of how close they were, of the way Chance’s hand rose and fell with his breathing. He wondered if anyone was watching, if Andy had noticed before he walked away. If this meant anything. If any of Chance’s touches meant anything. 

Chance eventually dropped his hand. “Sorry,” he said. “I get carried away.”

“It’s okay,” Will smiled, despite feeling a slight sting. 

They stood there for a moment, neither stepping back. 

“Stay here,” Chance said finally, bumping Will’s shoulder more gently this time. “I’ll get us some water. Can’t have you falling on me just yet.” 

Will could only laugh. Chance shot Will a wink before disappearing into the crowd. 

Soon enough, Will caught sight of Mike across the room. Their eyes met and Will lifted a hand in a half-wave.

Mike saw this as an invitation to come, and headed towards him. 

“You alright?” he asked a little breathily. He smelled slightly of alcohol and… Was Will smelling weed on him? 

“Yes,” Will replied. “This is fun.”

Mike watched him carefully. “Really?”

Will nodded. 

Mike nodded as well. Then he, a little awkwardly, continued speaking. “You know I was thinking that maybe, if you want, we can all play D&D together tomorrow?” he said, almost hesitantly, as if Will would be against that. “I was thinking about doing it today but you were all so excited about that party that I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” 

Had that been why he was so hesitant about the party? 

“Sounds good, Mike,” Will said, smiling. 

“So,” Mike continued, brushing their arms together. “I heard them chanting your name. You won beer pong?”

“Yeah,” Will said, grinning. “Chance was really happy.”

Mike’s smile dropped when Will said that. “Chance Perez?”

“Yeah, he played basketball with Lucas.”

“I know,” Mike said a little roughly. “He was an asshole back in Freshman Year.”

Four years ago, Will wanted to say. He’d been in California, then. He wasn’t aware of how they were back when Eddie Munson was still alive, but Mike hadn’t been fond of them; that’s what he heard from Lucas, anyway, as Mike didn’t write to him when he was in California. And he still didn’t know why. “They apologized, didn’t they?” Will said a little defensively. “Him and Andy, when Max returned to school. Since then, they kept to their word. Dustin even tutored Andy in English and got him help for his Dyslexia. Look, we won’t see these people again. I think we shouldn’t leave on bad terms.”

Mike’s eyes moved away from Andy, who was dancing with a few friends. “Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “But be careful. We don’t really know him.” 

“Know who?” Chance asked, appearing back at Will’s side with a bottle of water in hand. 

Mike didn’t reply. “Hey, Chance.”

“Hi, Michael,” Chance greeted him, bringing his own wattle bottle to his lips.

Will saw Mike’s eye twitch when Chance called him that. “Just Mike is fine.” 

“Cool,” said Chance. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yup.” 

“You should’ve seen your friend earlier,” Chance said excitedly, slinging his arm around Will’s shoulder. “He’s awesome for someone who’s never played. I can’t believe you trapped him in your basement.”

Mike’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

Chance seemed taken aback by Mike’s hostile tone. “Oh, just that he said that it’s his first party. I’m not saying you trapped him,” he reassured him. “I don’t even know if you have a basement. But it’s a pity we never got to see this part of him.” 

Mike crossed his arms. “Mhm.” 

Yeah, this was going to get awkward. 

“I smell pizza,” Will piped up. He turned to Chance. “Do you want pizza?” 

“Will,” Mike said. “You don’t like pizza.”

“I like pizza,” Will lied. “Chance, we should go.”

“Couldn’t have asked it sooner,” Chance mumbled.

Will smiled awkwardly at Mike before joining Chance to the empty kitchen. He didn’t want to ditch Mike, but he wanted to avoid a fight. Because if Mike would run his mouth, Chance would win and if Will were honest, he’d ditch the guy right then and there if he laid a hand on Mike. 

“That was awkward,” said Chance. “I don’t think Michael likes me that much.” 

“He’s my best friend,” Will said with a smile. “Heart of the party, I like to say. Don’t think of him a certain way, he’s always been protective and very attentive. Well, not always but…” He took a bite of the pizza. “Usually.” 

“Usually? So, not always,” Chance pointed out.

“We fight sometimes,” Will explained away. “That’s what best friends do.”

“Mhm,” Chance hummed. “So.” He leaned forward. “Do you like pizza?”

Will took it as his sign to spit out the piece of pizza on a napkin. “I hate it.”

Chance laughed, looking at him in disbelief. He held up a piece for himself. “Dude, how can you hate pizza?”

Will, like everyone, indulged in junk food from time to time. Hamburgers and hotdogs had always been good, but pizza? It didn’t matter what flavor he ate, it never ever tasted good. “The cheese tastes artificial.” 

“Wow,” Chance said, shaking his head as he finished his huge bite. “I think our potential relationship is over.” 

“Relationship?” Will repeated.

Chance cleared his throat. “Relationship as friends,” he clarified. 

Did he truly mean that? A voice in Will’s head said tauntingly. Yes, Will said back to the voice. 

“Ah, yes.” Will nodded, glancing at the dark pepperoni slices on that pizza. He suddenly felt a hand caress his cheek. Will stepped back, eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

“You have some sauce next to your mouth.”

“Where?” Will asked, already sticking his tongue out to lick it away. 

Chance grinned and extended his hand. It touched Will’s cheek as he brushed away the sauce with his thumb. 

“Thanks,” Will breathed.

Chance smiled back, hand still on his cheek. He leaned in closer, almost as if to kiss him, but they sprung away from each other the moment the kitchen door opened, and Lucas and Max walked in.  

“Hey, Will!” said Lucas brightly, then gave Chance a nod of acknowledgement.  

“Oh, hi guys,” Will said, his cheeks still red. 

Max glanced at the pizza slice in Will’s hand. “Since when do you eat pizza?”

“I don’t.” He extended the piece to Lucas. “Take it.” 

Lucas grinned, accepting the pizza from Will and taking a huge bite of it. 

“Honestly, Sinclair,” Chance said, breaking his silence. “I can’t believe you haven’t done anything about the fact that this one doesn’t like pizza.” 

“He stands firmly on it,” Lucas said, shaking his head. “Nothing you can change about it.” 

Chance put a hand on Will’s shoulder. “D’you like popcorn, at least?”

Will smiled. “I do.” 

Chance grabbed one out of the bowl. “Catch!”

At instinct, Will opened his mouth and caught the piece with ease. 

“You’re good, Byers,” Chance laughed, his eyes never leaving him. There was a moment they stared at each other, forgetting that Lucas and Max were in the room. 

“Oh, my bracelet!” Max piped up. “I think I lost it. Will, can you help find it?”

“I can help,” Lucas suggested. 

“Eat your pizza,” said Max, giving Lucas a pointed look. 

Lucas put his thumb up, shooting them a wink as he turned to Chance and began to make small talk with him. This distracted him enough for Max to take Will’s arm and drag him out of the kitchen to the other door, which led to the garden. Partygoers were jumping and making out in the pool. A group of guys, Andy among them, were cheering someone on while they had him in a keg stand. 

Max led them to a more quiet corner. 

“So, what’s going on there?” she asked. “You and Chance,” she clarified when Will gave her a confused look.

“I have no idea,” Will admitted, sitting down on the ground.

Max joined him. “Chance is digging you.”

Will shook his head. He had done this before. Chance was not digging him. “No way.”

“Has he been touchy?” she asked quietly. “Touching you when the situation doesn’t require it?”

Will thought back. He had, but Will didn’t know how he was with his friends. Maybe it was something common for him. But, he wasn’t going to lie. “A few times.”

“Shared looks?”

“Mhm.”

“Any flirting or suspiciously romantic dialogue?” 

“Just earlier, he said our relationship was over because I don’t like pizza,” he recalled with a slight laugh. “He said it meant friendship, though… And, it was minor, but he said something on how anyone would dig it if he styled his hair like Jon Bon Jovi.”

“Will,” Max cooed. 

Will shook his head. “Max.”

She gave him a teasing shove. “He wants it.”

“No.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” she said excitedly.

“He’s a jock,” Will said, trying to make a point but quickly forgetting what it was. 

Max rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“They’re the exact kind of people who are against who I am,” Will said.

“Lucas isn’t,” Max pointed out. “Not all jocks are the same. You know what, just try to see if there are any more signs. If there aren’t any, drop it. You’re allowed some bit of fun, Will.” 

“Yeah. I am.” 

Max smiled, and the two embraced. Max was the friend a smalltown boy like him really needed. Although she was a girl, they related to each other in ways he didn’t with the boys. They all lived in suburban houses, had financial stability, fathers who didn’t hate them — although Ted Wheeler’s presence in Mike’s life could be heavily debated — and liked girls. Max and Will were both outsiders in their group and, although were comfortable with that, did find solace in one another. 

Also, Max was the only person he knew to think Ralph Macchio was incredibly hot. And now that he thought of it, that guy looked a lot like Chance.

Maybe Mike had been an anomaly.

They returned to the kitchen, where Lucas and Chance were throwing popcorn in each other’s mouths. They stopped, however, when they noticed the two had returned.

“Having fun?” Max asked Lucas teasingly. 

“Chance has always been a bad shot,” Lucas joked. “I don’t know how you never got injured.”

“You know I’m not a bad–” Chance began to say when he suddenly began to jump up and down. Okay… Will thought. Odd. “Byers, they’re playing it!”

“What?” said Will, trying to focus on the music. 

“My favorite Bon Jovi song,” Chance replied. “Born to be my baby!” He took his arm. “C’mon.”

Will turned to Lucas and Max as he was led out of the kitchen. They both stuck their thumbs up and him, nodding encouragingly. 

“Good luck,” Lucas mouthed. 

By the time they reached the main room, the party got louder than before. The living room had been cleared of most of its furniture, bodies were pressed close as people danced to the song.

“Ugh, I love this song!” Chance shouted, already moving, shoulders rolling, head starting to sway. He reached back without looking and caught Will’s hand. It wasn’t a tight grip, just fingers hooking around fingers. Will let himself be pulled forward into the crowd’s heat. 

Doing this in Hawkins, Will knew to be careful. There were rules everyone pretended not to know. Space mattered, touch was coded. What girls and boys could do together was endless. But two boys? Two girls? Will knew that was different. He’d grown up watching it at school dances, at weddings, learning where the lines were.

But Chance? He danced like the lines didn’t exist.

Not noticeably, though. But he was completely in control of his body in a way Will found very attractive. He moved with the beat, hips loose, knees bending, hands up; his head tipped back on the chorus like he was singing along even when he wasn’t. Every so often he bumped into Will, but never apologized, just grinned and kept moving. Once, his hand slid to Will’s waist, rested there for a beat too long to be casual, then that touch disappeared like it had never happened.

Will’s first instinct was to act as if his mind wasn’t racing. He laughed when he was supposed to laugh, nodded when Chance shouted lyrics in his direction. He was careful not to overstep, not to misread or be misread. Hoping he wouldn’t ruin the night by doing something wrong.

People jumped in time, sang at the top of their lungs, threw their arms around each other without thinking twice. Something about this song made Will let loose. He stopped thinking about where his hands were and let them move. 

Chance noticed. “That’s it,” he said, laughing, his eyes bright. He leaned in close, his mouth near Will’s ear. “Let loose, Byers.”

Will moved closer without meaning to, drawn by Chance’s energy. Their arms brushed again, and neither of them moved away. Chance’s hand found his again and slid down to his wrist.

My heart beats like a drum.

“All night!” the partygoers chorused. 

Flesh to flesh, one to one. 

“And it’s alright!”

But it was Chance who shouted it out the loudest. He shrugged out of his letterman jacket and without breaking rhythm, he tossed towards the couch, where people had discarded their jackets instead of the coat hanger at the entrance. It, unfortunately, landed right on Mike’s head. 

Will saw Mike throw it off him aggressively, his jaw clenched. 

Will lifted a hand, caught his best friend’s gaze, and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry,’ though he knew it wouldn’t do much, he hoped it would reassure him. 

Mike smiled, though it was a little strained. He then nodded to Chance and motioned at him to get closer.

Will grinned, nodding. 

Chance hadn’t noticed this interaction between Mike and Will. He was too far gone, too wrapped up in the moment. He threw his head back on the next “born to be my baby,” hair falling into his eyes, hands up in the air like he was at Woodstock. He spun once, careless, nearly knocking into some girl, and laughed drunkenly when they laughed back.

Then Chance turned back to him and held out his hands again. Will took them and something shifted after that. Whatever it was, Will stopped holding himself back and took Mike’s advice.

They danced closer now, not pressed together, but close enough for Chance’s hands to move everywhere. On Will’s shoulders, his upper back, briefly at his hip again. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through him, heating his cheeks up. He felt seen in a way he’d never been afforded to. In a way he dreamt about. The same way Lucas looked at Max, how Mike once looked at… Jane. It was dizzying. Chance wasn’t just dancing with him, he took him in.

The chorus came around again, voices shouting the words in unison. Will found himself singing too, though very off-key. He laughed at himself and Chance laughed with him, their foreheads nearly colliding.

“Best song ever,” Chance said, breathless.

“Oh, I know,” Will said.

Chance closed his eyes for a second, head swaying side to side. He didn’t see the collision coming until it happened. He turned suddenly, and his nose smacked into someone’s raised arm. There was a collective “oh” from nearby. Chance stumbled back, clutching his face. “Shit,” he said, blinking rapidly.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Chance!” the other guy said, looking horrified.

Chance waved him off, already laughing. “All good, man,” he said, though his eyes were watering. 

Will was at his side instantly. He wanted to touch him but wasn’t sure where to put his hand. He wasn’t like Chance. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Chance said, though he sniffed, rubbing at his nose. “Man. I get carried away sometimes, but damn. That was–” And then blood began to ooze out of his nose. Dark red had smeared across the back of Chance’s hand, glossy in the colored light.

“Oh,” Will said, uselessly. “Oh.”

More blood followed, slipping free to the curve of Chance’s upper lip. 

“You’re bleeding,” he said, stating the obvious.

“Yeah,” Chance said, blinking hard. “Yeah, I–”

He didn’t finish the sentence. The blood came faster now, a sudden rush that made a few people nearby recoil.

“Whoa,” someone said. “Dude, your nose.”

“I’m fine,” Chance insisted, though his voice had gone tight. He tipped his head back instinctively.

“No! Don’t–” Will reached for him, putting his hands on his shoulders. “I think you’re supposed to lean forward and press the soft part of your nose.”

And then Mike appeared beside them, holding a cloth that he pressed firmly under Chance’s nose. “Hey,” Mike said, calm but commanding. “Head down. Like this.”

He guided Chance forward, one hand steady at the back of his neck, the other holding the cloth in place. Chance let himself be moved. “Sorry,” he mumbled into the fabric.

“Don’t talk,” Mike said. “Just breathe through your mouth.”

“Mouthbreather,” Chance laughed to himself.

Mike laughed along. 

Will stood there, watching the cloth darken immediately. “We need–” he started. “We should–”

“Upstairs,” Mike cut in, not making any eye contact. “There’s a private bathroom.” He nodded toward the staircase. “Door with the ‘do not enter’ sign.”

“And you?” Will asked. 

“Just go,” Mike said, then gave him a pointed look.

Will nodded. He let Mike show him how to hold Chance’s head and Will steered them through the crowd. People stepped aside quickly when they saw the blood. They climbed the stairs two at a time, Will’s other hand hovering near Chance’s back. At the top of the stairs, the hallway was quieter. His eyes wandered around until he found the closed door. A hand-written sign was taped to it: DO NOT ENTER. 

Years ago, there were nights when Will laid awake, thinking about why it had to be Mike. His best friend. Why did he have to ruin their relationship by having these feelings for him? Even though he had moved on, he thought of how Mike had unknowingly hurt him. How Will had hurt himself. But in moments like these — where Mike helped Chance despite not really liking the guy — Will understood why. 

Chance stepped inside first, then reached back and pulled Will in after him. As soon as they were both inside, he reached out and locked the door behind them.

Chance leaned forward immediately, placing his hands on the counter as another drip of blood splashed into the sink.

“Okay,” Will said, voice shaking. He guided Chance onto the edge of the counter, turning him gently so he was facing the sink properly.

“I’m sorry,” Chance said, still pinching his nose.

“Don’t apologize,” Will said, echoing what Chance had told him earlier under different circumstances. “It’s not your fault.”

Chance let out a shaky laugh. “I headbutted an arm. Kinda my fault.”

“Shh,” Will said. “You were in the moment.” 

Chance laughed. 

Will wet a corner of a nearby cloth under the faucet, then pressed it back gently beneath Chance’s nose. “Hold this one instead.”

Chance nodded. He held the cloth in place, breathing through his mouth.

They stayed like that for a moment. Will leaned against the counter, hands braced on either side of Chance, close enough to feel his warmth. “Are you feeling better?” Will asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Chance said. He sheepishly glanced up at Will. “Sorry for freaking you out.”

“You didn’t freak me out,” Will said with a nervous laugh. “I’m not a fan of blood.”

“Does it have to do with umm…” Chance hesitated. “You going missing?”

Will merely nodded. It would be ridiculous to explain something he wouldn’t believe.

“Sorry for bringing that up,” Chance said, frowning. 

“It’s fine.” Will reached up without thinking and adjusted the cloth slightly, his fingers brushing Chance’s cheek. 

Chance’s eyes closed briefly as he breathed. Will watched him. 

“I’m sorry I have you locked in Stacy’s private bathroom,” Chance mumbled. 

“It’s alright,” Will reassured him. “Your nose is bleeding.” 

“Yeah, I’m such a klutz,” Chance said, playfully rolling his eyes. “I guess it’s karma for beating kids up those years ago. But this should happen before the inevitable.”

“What inevitable?”

“When I get injured playing a game,” Chance explained. “I’m Chance the luckmaker, I never get injured.”

Will had heard of that before from Lucas who, after breaking his finger once, complained about Chance’s inability to break a bone. “That’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” Chance said, shooting him a wink. He swiftly changed the subject, his hand smoothly moving to touch Will’s waist. “I’m going to Northwestern in the Fall.”

Will’s eyes widened at the mention of the school. He’d been so surprised that he barely registered Chance’s hand placement. “Northwestern? That’s a hard school to get into.”

“My grades are good, but it’s definitely basketball that gave me a heads up,” Chance said. “If I play well enough, I’ll be one of the first Filipinos to play in the NBA. My dad will love that.” 

“I hope I’ll have enough knowledge by then to watch you play on the TV,” Will said jokingly.

Chance looked up at him. “Why on the TV? I could just invite you to a game.” 

Will felt his cheeks heat up for the one hundredth time that night. “Why would you want me there?” he asked, his voice soft. 

“Most players have their trophy wives sitting in front,” Chance said casually. Their eyes met and then Will realized something. Chance’s hand had been on his waist, and it was there for a while. 

Will took a step back. 

Chance appeared instantly regretful. “Fuck, that came out so wrong, Will,” he said, panicked, saying Will’s name for the first time. “You’re not a trophy wife. I– I just babble a lot. Sorry if I sounded like a total weirdo. I’m not– fuck!”

“Chance,” Will said carefully. He needed to know. He needed to tell him that it was okay. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay. I’m… I–” 

“Byers?” Chance cut in, putting the cloth away from his mouth. His nose wasn’t bleeding anymore. “Kiss me.” 

It took a while for Will to register the words. Chance had said it carefully, but the effect was anything but. For a second, his brain went entirely blank, like someone had switched off the lights. “Kiss you,” he repeated, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Yeah,” Chance said. He appeared almost shy. “I mean, only if you want to. I just–” He cut himself off, smiling a little. “I want to.”

Will had never kissed someone before, but the alcohol had given him a level of confidence he would’ve never possessed under any other circumstance. It sat warm and steady in his bloodstream, removing any semblance of usual hesitation, turning his thoughts from what if into why not. Without it, he might have overanalyzed himself right out of the moment. With it, he found himself nodding. “Okay,” he said.

Chance’s expression shifted to one of relief and excitement. They leaned in slowly, giving each other time to pull back. But no, neither did. 

Their noses bumped lightly and Will moved his head back. “My nose is fine,” Chance reassured him, reading his expression. Will tilted his head the correct way and then their lips met properly.

It wasn’t fireworks. It wasn’t anything like the movies. It was soft and warm. Chance’s lips were chapped just slightly, probably from singing and the blood he had to wash away. Will closed his eyes, let himself focus on the sensation instead. He felt Chance’s hand come up to his side, resting there lightly, thumb brushing the fabric of his shirt. He kissed back, trying to follow Chance’s rhythm. Will felt something in him loosen. He forgot about the party downstairs, about Mike. There was this closeness he had to cherish before not experiencing it again.

He didn’t know how long they kissed. Time did strange things in that bathroom. Will shifted closer without realizing he’d done it, until his knees brushed Chance’s thigh. He kissed a little harder, emboldened by Chance’s hands moving under his shirt and touching his waist. He responded immediately, a pleased hum low in his throat. Will’s teeth caught, just barely, on Chance’s lower lip.

Chance sucked in a sharp breath and pulled back. “Oh,” he said.

“Oh,” Will echoed, horrified by himself. “I’m so sorry. Are you bleeding again?”

Chance laughed breathlessly. He touched his lip, checking. “No, no. I think I’m out of blood for the night.”

“I really didn’t mean to bite you,” Will said quickly. “I don’t know why I did that. I just–”

Chance studied him for a second, then smiled in a way that made Will’s stomach flip. “Have you done that before?”

“No,” Will admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I never got the chance to. I never knew of anyone that was like me.” 

Chance watched him carefully. “Who knows?”

“My family, my friends,” Will said, smiling a little. “You?”  

“My sister. Andy.”

The latter name caught him off guard. “Andy? And he’s okay with it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Chance said, nodding. “He was a bit upset at the fact that I didn’t have the hots for him, but he got over it and immediately tried to pair me up with a cousin of his that he was sure of was a total homo.”

Will laughed, shaking his head. Of course Andy would say something like that. “So, for you it’s boys?”

“Boys and girls,” Chance corrected. “You?”

“Just boys.”

“What about Michael?” he asked, giving Will a pointed look. 

“What?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Oh!” Shit. Had it been obvious back then? “Oh no… I haven’t since Sophomore year.”

“Good,” Chance said firmly. 

“Good?” Will echoed. 

“Yes, because I want to kiss you again.” 

“Okay.” 

Chance leaned in slowly, giving Will time to adjust, to mirror the angle. Their lips met again, softer than before. Chance kissed him, first softly, then a little more firmly. His hand slid to the back of Will’s head, moving his head sideways as he pressed their chests together. Will’s mind was reeling from how close they were pressed to each other. Will’s Sophomore Year growth spurt had been a blessing in disguise. He wasn’t as tall and broad as Chance, but at least their height difference wasn’t that awkward that he was breaking his neck trying to kiss him.

Chance’s tongue slowly slid into Will’s mouth, and Will copied him, letting their tongues dance together. Due to his experience, Chance was the one to dominate the kiss. He swiftly got off the sink, firmly turned Will around and hoisted him onto it. He grabbed Will’s legs and let him wrap them around his waist. Their lips did not disconnect, even when Chance gave Will’s hair a slight tug and he let out a noise that Chance’s lips thankfully muffled. 

They kissed again and again. Will stopped worrying about where his teeth were, about whether he was doing it right. He focused on the way Chance’s hands trailed down under Will’s shirt to touch his waist. Chance hummed softly, his hands going up his stomach. 

Chance pulled away. “You’re firm, hm,” he said breathily, biting his lip. “You work out?” 

“Lucas got me on it,” Will explained, licking his lips. 

“Tell Sinclair I appreciate his work.”

He definitely would, though he’d omit how he knew that Will was more ‘firm’ now. 

“You haven’t done this before, right?” Chance asked, his hands still resting on Will’s stomach. 

“Umm, no,” Will said awkwardly. “Sorry.”

He wanted to remove his legs from Chance’s waist, but he took his hands from Will’s stomach and placed them on his thighs. “Don’t apologize. Look, I won’t give it to you in some random bathroom. You don’t deserve that for your first time.”

Was Chance implying that he’d take his virginity? “What do I deserve?”

“A bedroom, maybe mine; be your guest.” Chance’s hands rubbed Will’s thighs, sliding in the inner-thigh, making Will feel hot all over. “Some romantic music playing, nice and gentle. Maybe some chocolates and a sweet serenade before that.” 

“Sounds romantic.”

Chance shrugged. “I try.” 

“Was your first time like that? With a guy,” Will added. 

“Oh, no,” Chance said, clearing his throat. “It wasn’t as romantic. Andy gave me this address for a bar a few towns over. The guy and I did it in the back of his car. I think he was married, too, but we were careful.” 

It wasn’t romantic at all. In fact, Will sympathized with both of them, and this man’s wife. The fact that they had to do it so secretly. He wished it had been better for Chance. “I wish it didn’t have to be that way.” 

Chance smiled softly. “I wish that too. I have a family of strict Filipino Catholics. My sister, she’s different but my parents…” He let out a deep sigh. “They wouldn’t get it. How did you come out?”

Well… “Uh, it’s complicated.”

Chance nodded. “Cool. So,” he continued casually. “They’re still playing the new Indiana Jones movie. Andy works at the theater. I could ask him to snag us some tickets, if you want to come?”

Like a date? Will wondered and asked him just that. 

“Yeah,” he said. “You know, Harrison Ford in Star Wars made me realize I like boys, too.” 

Will grinned. “Really?”

“Sure thing. We have those movies on VHS and my sister and I watched it, and I accidentally blurted out how hot Han Solo looks with that open collar. Kind of embarrassing.”

“It isn’t. I get it.”

“Thank you!” Chance practically shouted.

Will put his hand on Chance’s mouth. “Dude.”

“Sorry, babe,” Chance said.

“Babe?” 

“Baby,” Chance tried. Will shook his head. “Sweetheart.” He leaned down to kiss his neck. “Darling.” He trailed his tongue along the length of his neck. “Angel.” Another kiss. “Sweet cheeks.”

“Stop there!” Will laughed.

Chance laughed as well. “Kidding… But, not really.” 

This guy was going to be the end of him.

Will barely registered how it escalated, only that at some point, Chance’s neck kisses turned passionate. His head tipped back, and his mouth made soft noises whenever Chance sucked his neck. He felt hands steadying him, Chance’s breath tickling his throat. It didn’t occur to him that this would leave marks, and people would start to ask questions. There was only the overwhelming excitement about being wanted, of being treated like someone worth desiring.

Eventually, they separated, foreheads touching. They sat there, smiling and talking to each other for a few more minutes before they knew it was time to leave. 

When they unlocked the bathroom door and slipped back into the hallway, Will realized they were still at that party. The air was thick again and the music downstairs boomed. 

Will realized that, like Chance had earlier with Bon Jovi, Will loved the song that had started playing when they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Heroes” by David Bowie began to play, and Chance took Will’s arm, dragging him into the crowd of people who began to sing and dance to the song. Will found his friends near the center of it all. All of them. Even Dustin, who, despite having an arm wrapped around Stacey’s waist, walked away from her to pull him close. 

Mike’s eyes met Will’s and they broke into identical grins. Will stepped into the circle, letting himself be pulled along.

They all danced together, laughing and spinning and shouting the words when they knew them. Lucas grabbed Will’s hands and dragged him into a ridiculous, exaggerated sway. Someone they didn’t know nearly knocked them all over. The song exhilarated Will. He forgot about how self-conscious he usually was, forgetting about the eyes on him. It was the perfect way to end the year; he was surrounded by people who knew him and loved him in the simple way of shared history.

He caught sight of Chance at the edge of the room. Their eyes met briefly and they smiled at one another before Will turned back to Mike, who put his hands on Will’s shoulders and jumped up and down as they sang the chorus. 

When the song ended, people clapped and groaned; someone even yelled for it to be played again. Another song started almost immediately, but the adrenaline had disappeared.

This was the last thing they needed to do. They retrieved their jackets, and the group walked toward the door. Will followed behind everyone else, but just before he reached the doorway, a hand caught his wrist and gently pulled him aside, out of the flow of people. 

They ended up half-hidden near the hallway, shielded by the angle of the wall and the press of bodies moving past. Chance leaned in and kissed him quickly, pressing something into his hand as their lips met.

He stepped back, winked at him, and turned away, disappearing into the dancing crowd. Will glanced down at the frumpled piece of paper in his hand. A phone number. Chance’s phone number. Will stood there for a second, heart racing all over again. Did Will have a boyfriend now? A summer fling? What had happened that night? He laughed to himself, surely looking like a maniac to the people passing by but God, he did not care. 

Smiling from ear to ear, Will slipped the paper into his pocket and rejoined his friends, letting himself be swept along toward the door. Once they were outside, still filled with adrenaline, the group made their way to where they’d parked their bikes. The cool air brushed against Will’s cheeks, waking him up all over again. He felt someone prod him, so Will turned to Lucas, who was smirking at him.

“Someone looks like they had a fun night.”

“Huh?”

“Your neck,” Max said.

She took out a mirror from her back pocket and handed it to Will. Once he had a better look at himself, he saw the damage that Chance had done to his neck. And it was summer too! There was no way he could cover this up. “Shit,” Will swore. 

“So, who mauled you?” Dustin asked.

Mike studied him intently. “Perez?”

Will didn’t reply, but his face made it obvious that it was indeed him.

“Chance? Hell yeah!” said Lucas excitedly. 

“Quite the looker,” Dustin added.

“Calm down, Dustin, I have him now,” Will said teasingly, making Dustin give him a playful prod in the shoulder. 

“Did you…?” Max wiggled her brows suggestively.

“We just made out,” Will insisted.

“Well,” said Mike. “You have a whole summer to bring a change into that.”

He did, yeah.

THE END