Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It happens , for the first time , one hundred thousand percent completely unexpected.

Will can usually tell when someone’s about to ask him out. They get a ‘look’ about them - a ‘look’ that constitutes eyes that they bat a minimum of three times , palms being rubbed against each other at least once (but usually twice) , and cheeks that go alarmingly red.

It’s what Dustin calls the textbook ‘Byers Effect’ , something Will doesn’t find funny at all - after all , it’s only ever girls that ask him out and no matter how pretty they are , he obviously can’t go out with them , even if he seems to attract them like a horde of flies to a pot of honey.

Even if they’re blonde and have big blue eyes , and Lucas is elbowing him and saying “Du-u-de” he always has to awkwardly tell them that he’s flattered but very much not interested.

The Party fondly remembers the girl who threw a two liter Fanta in his face for giving him signals he wasn’t even aware he was giving , but he remembers that day as one of the most insanely embarrassing moments of his whole life and now he has to send Mike to get his double-double from their local In-N-Out because the other ones never seem to get his order right.

Not that Mike has ever complained. He won’t even let Will pay him back , so Will has to make it up with little post-it note drawings that Mike pins in his room right above his desk , not to mention , getting the privilege of being the only person Will shares his Reese’s pieces with. 

But this time - this time there’s no look about it. He’s standing outside the art room when someone taps him on the shoulder - and at first he thinks it’s Mike because that’s who’s supposed to be here picking him up so they can go home together. Will’s been waiting all class to show him the new sketch he’d begun during the Professor’s inane garbage rattling about how the color red was actually the color blue wearing a trenchcoat of danger. 

He whips around excitedly , but almost immediately is disappointed because instead of being faced with Mike’s curly black hair and crooked grin , he sees the guy who always sits to his left in class. He’s not sure what his name is - but knows that whoever it is prone to losing his pencils and making shitty jokes about their professor’s handwriting. 

He’s disappointed - but he offers the guy a small smile anyways , and after greeting him asks how he found the class.

“Great ,” Not-Mike , says brightly , his shaggy chestnut brown hair falling just above his shoulders , “But man , I wish Dr Rush had listened in second grade. Her R’s look like T’s for some god-forsaken reason.” He laughs then , high and pitchy , the other hand going to the back of his neck and even though his joke wasn’t all that funny, Will offers him a courtesy chuckle to save him some humiliation, while he looks up and down the deserted hallway for Mike.

“You looking for Wheeler ?” he asks when Will turns back his foot tapping impatiently against the floor , eyes fixed to the floor , but still unmoving by the door. He moves his gaze from the floor back up to meet Not-Mike’s eyes. “How did you - ”

“Oh , I always see you with him on campus. You , Wheeler , and sometimes Sinclair and Henderson.”

Will takes a second , then nods.

There’s something off over here , that he’s becoming aware of. How the hell does he know who any of his friends are ?  Alright , maybe Lucas he can understand - being on the college basketball team makes him somewhat of a campus celebrity but Mike and Dustin ,  no matter how much he loves them are by all accounts unknown nerds. 

His heartbeat quickens with the whir of thoughts and possibilities running through his brain - is he … being stalked ? But what could this guy possibly want ? Surely if he was stalking Will  , he’d have realized that he was one breakfast sandwich payment being declined away from living on the streets.

Not-Mike must notice something about Will’s attitude - because he drops his smile and pushes his glasses up in the way people do when they want to look serious. God , Will thinks anxiously, where the hell is Mike ? He’d know exactly what to say to this guy.

“Will ,” he begins again , pale cheeks burning red as a tomato , “Listen , I just - I wanted to - I wanted to ask you a question.”

He looks up and finally meets Will’s eyes. They’re a cool light blue , and right now his pupils are tense with fear. 

“If it’s about -”

“No. No it’s not. I was just - wondering if you were free next week. To grab dinner. Wherever you want. Also , like whenever. Um - I’m like - one hundred percent free. And I will cancel any plans if that’s the only time you’re free.”

He puts his hand down the pockets of his blue hoodie , and stands on his tippy toes for a couple seconds before letting his feet land back down on the floor. He breaks the eye contact first , the ceiling suddenly looking as good as the Sistine Chapel.

Will , meanwhile, feels like he’s been shot in the face. His body freezes up almost immediately, and his first instinct is to bolt and find a store cupboard to panic in , but somehow he thinks that Not-Mike - god , what the hell is his name - would follow him and knock on the door again.Because Will definitely hasn’t told a single soul about this - not even Jonathan , or his mom. 

Not even Mike. 

He wonders who’s paying him to do this.

And then Will notices that it’s his palms that are sweating like nobody’s business, and he doesn’t know how he looks but he knows his eyes are as wide as Texas. He looks behind the guy for his friends, who he knows are going to be making their way out shortly , and almost unbidden ,  Mike resurfaces to the front of his mind.

He thinks hurriedly that Mike should be making his way here anytime now , and he wonders what Not-Mike and his crew will say to Mike. There must be at least two others he calculates, and if Mike walks in at the wrong time he’d get involved and he could get hurt - 

And that’s when the fear boils into anger , real and true and palpable and his thoughts are white hot on one side, the other a litany of Mike , Mike , Mike -

“Is this funny to you?” He spits out , eyes narrowed, looking for a Troy-like figure lurking in the shadows - “So what - you somehow found out I’m gay and you thought that you’d come and make your little jokes - where’re your little cronies then , huh ?” He tries hard to channel his most irritated instead of the way he really feels - a mixture of fear and stupid , hopeless resignation. 

But Not-Mike , when Will steels himself enough to look right in the eyes has his hands up in a defensive gesture , his own mouth agape , eyes looking like they’re about to bulge.

“No , no , no. I promise , it’s nothing like that , Will. I’m gay too. I mean , and I didn’t find out about you being gay, I just , well I hoped. Because I’ve liked you all semester , and I didn’t think I had a chance , but the thing is I saw you turn down Heather and then , well I thought  - you know. I thought -” He looks back up at Will , who’s now staring at him , his heart beating a mile a minute. 

He still can’t quite comprehend what the hell’s going on exactly - it feels like he’s being laughed at in some way he can’t understand , like it’s all some big prank - and it was finally getting good too , they were finally out of Hawkins , and Will was going to tell The Party about himself, soon as he figured out how to tell them that without telling them about the Mike of it all - 

“Why ?”

The word jumps out of his mouth involuntarily , and immediately after he regrets it. He doesn’t like this - doesn’t like that some random guy knows one of his worst secrets before the people - the person - that matter the most. Doesn’t like that somehow he’s actually considering it - mulling the idea over in his head like cold water over a burn , even though he knows that despite the idea that whoever this guy is might actually want Will - Will doesn’t want him. 

Will wants someone else.

The California sun beats down on him restlessly , even though he’s indoors. The Art building in particular is always sweltering all the months of the year - the professor thinks it builds character , but Will thinks far more people would be welcome to pay attention if the weather didn’t make them suicidal. 

“I really like your eyes ,” Not-Mike stutters out , blushing again , “and you’re like super-smart. You know all these things about color theory that I never even considered , and it’s - ”

He stops speaking then. His voice is all sweaty too , and crackling with nervousness , every word fizzing around them. Will wonders if this is an alternate dimension he’s in right now. 

“Oh.”

The single word seems to break the tension between the both of them and they lock gazes again, breaking into peals of laughter. The air changes despite the bitterness he feels as having been discovered with this Great Big Thing about himself and he thinks he can feel a little line of connection between the two of them - even if he still doesn’t know who the fuck it is , he knows that his ass isn’t about to meet the ground in some sort of middle school reminiscent showdown. 

It takes a hot minute for both of them to be able to speak again.

“How about this ? I’ll give you my number and if you want to - you let me know by the end of the day.” He hands Will a little chit of paper he just pulled out of his pocket - on it , his ten digit phone number and name - Ryan Smith - before he continues on , “And if you don’t want to go out , we can study together instead. Platonically , of course.” He laughs again , at his own lame joke - but Will wasn’t paying attention to that.

Because air around them had changed again - but not in the same way as before. His heart has morphed into a butterfly , its wings fluttering hurriedly,  battering and bruising the bones of his ribs. The heat that he’s feeling isn’t because of the sun anymore  and soon enough , footsteps sound behind the two of them , running at a pace that make Will’s lips quirk up in a ready smile and within seconds a soft arm is thrown around his shoulders , and Will twists his head this time to see the real Mike panting like he’d just ran a whole marathon , small beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. He still looks stupidly picturesque - when he looks down at Will with his doe eyes and a sheepish smile , the feeling in his stomach triples.

“I’m so fucking sorry , Will , the Professor kept going on and on about particles , and I tried to sneak out but he caught me and made me stay behind to lecture me about how rude I was being , and I nodded and everything , then I ran here as fast as I could.”

He starts breathing heavy after he rushes out the words as well , panting like a dog, and Will nearly snorts - but before he can give any sort of reaction , or reply , Mike’s eyes leave Will and swiftly turn over to Not-Mike , finally noticing that they have company. 

He blinks confusedly. 

“Who are you ?” 

His voice is edged with rudeness , and Will knows it’s unintentional but he’s also fully aware that even if he had intended it , it would still be equally as brusque-sounding if not more.

Before Not-Mike can reply , Mike cuts in again whilst removing his arm from Will’s shoulder to brush away the beads of sweat from his forehead. 

“It’s rude to eavesdrop , by the way.”

He sets his mouth in a frown , and folds his arms indignantly , and Will would think it was cute , if he weren’t attempting to clear up poor Ryan’s reputation for his best friend before Mike set his first impression of him as ‘asshole who eavesdrops’.

“No , no , Mike , I was just talking to him about something.”

Mike furrows his brows.

“About what ?” 

“A thing. An art thing.”

“Like paintbrushes or something ?”

Will snorts. “Is that all you know about art ?” He mimics Mike’s voice mockingly , “‘Like paintbrushes or something ?’”

Mike flushes and darts his eyes back up to Ryan who’s already looking at him. “I know more art things than that ,” he mumbles under his breath. Will rolls his eyes and smacks his arm and is just about to ask what else , when the sound of shuffling feet bring his attention back to Ryan. 

“I gotta go now , but Will , it was really nice talking to you. Just think about my offer and let me know by the end of the day , okay ?” And with that he walks hurriedly out of the hallway to god-knows-where , probably hoping to avoid one of Mike’s death glares.

Immediately after he leaves , Mike turns to him and squints his eyes at Will , who meets his gaze readily.

“What ?”

“What offer is he talking about ? And why do you need let him know by the end of the day ? And what else did you guys talk about—”

Will can’t help but smile. Mike’s badgering is like being questioned by a baby deer , and it’s almost illegal how much Will loves the way Mike gets when he talks - his incessant need to know everything about Will , a need identical to the one Will has about Mike , but far less subtle. 

In his deepest and most wanting moments , he likes to imagine it’s because Will’s special to Mike in a way that Lucas or Max or Dustin or El just aren’t. He lets out a deep breath. It would never be that , of course - it’s more than likely his rigid need to stick to a routine , and his unfounded fear that they’d start adding people randomly to the Party , even though no one had even attempted since Max.

He bites his lip as he begins to walk off. He doesn’t even bother to look back , and sure enough , not even a second later Mike’s right by his side again. He thinks about telling him the truth of what happened - telling him that actually , Ryan had asked him out.

Will tells him about the girls after all , and most of the time he’s there for the ones that Will doesn’t tell him about. But maybe , his heart whispers , maybe this time the possibility of Will being asked out by a guy would do something to him , give him a reaction that isn’t a heart-moving smirk and the question , “So , did she throw Fanta at you ? Or maybe it was a Dr Pepper this time ?” , something that’ll make him realize that Will’s wanted by all genders , romantic styles. 

And if Will is that wanted , and Mike knows about it - then maybe Mike will want him too. If only because he’s such a hot commodity. If only because he wants to see what all the fuss is about. God knows Will would let him take a test drive if he wanted , even if it broke his heart. 

But he already knows he’s not going to. It’s too soon , he tells himself , too soon to tell him, and if he even tries to admit it to Mike , tries to insinuate that a guy asked him out then he knows that Mike will know - a switch will flip , Mike will gasp and he’ll know. 

It’ll only take him a matter of time to realize why the hell Will wants to touch him all the damn time.

“Alright,  alright I’ll answer you one by one. He offered to study with me. he wanted my advice on one of our assignments.”

Suddenly , he feels a hand brush through his hair and he looks to his side at Mike , and his heart pitter-patters in his chest. 

Mike is grinning. “That’s right ,” he says , “Of course he wants your help. Probably failed his last test and wants to know how you beat every single motherfucker in that class.”

His voice has a note of pride in it , and Will doesn’t think he could be any prouder if it was his own grade - not that he gets bad ones. Will knows he’s much harder on himself - the creative writing assignment he’d handed in and got two marks cut off because of a couple typos had made him reconsider his whole major until Will could calm him down enough to convince him that it wasn’t the end of the world - it had been once , but they’d got past that and if Will hadn’t let the Demogorgons get to Mike , then he sure as hell wouldn’t let him get flattened by homework.

“Anyways,” Mike says , pulling Will to the path lined with lush grass on either side and a fountain just a little ways away , “We gotta run. Lucas and Max are gonna be pissed we’re late.” It was Friday today, he remembered , and the Party always watched some sort of a movie on Fridays. It’s Max’s pick this week and if Mike and Will were late , all their friends would think it was because they were too scared to watch what would probably be a piss-inducing horror movie that Will knows she only chooses to see Mike freak the fuck out. 

Mike pauses mid-walking , ignoring the grunt of the people behind them who nearly bump into his back , and turns to Will. “You think we have time to grab a bite before we get there ?”

Will is amazed at Mike’s sheer nerve. He lets out an amused laugh and pushes him lightly. 

“Mike.”

Mike’s eyes are sparkling , and Will’s heart jumps. He’s suddenly very aware of the blood flowing through his veins and he wonders what he looks like to Mike right now - does he look as good as he hopes ? As good as Ryan thinks ? 

“Will.” 

Mike bites his lips and Will has to stop himself from tracking the movement. He raises his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side until Mike lets out another raucous spell of laughter that shakes the earth. 

Will’s , at least. 

“Okay , alright , but then don’t blame me when you’re hungry because I know we’re out of the chilli popcorn you like at home and you told me like six times , you’d rather throw up than eat the regul - ”

Will rolls his eyes and starts singing out loud , fingers in his ears, beginning to walk to where he knows Mike’s car will be parked. 

And as always where Will is concerned , Mike just follows.

———

“So ,” Lucas starts , biting down on a tortilla chip , “what’s this week’s victim count of the Byers Effect ?”

Will stops mid talking with Mike , who’s just explaining that the reason he doesn’t want to watch Insidious is because of the cinematography , not because he’s afraid he’ll have nightmares. They both turn around to look at Lucas , along with the rest of the party. Lucas , for his part , looks wholly unashamed of the question.

“What do you - ”

“Will.” Lucas deadpans , “Don’t go acting like you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about. Now , what’s the victim count ?”

This is a serious thing for all of them - Will’s around 80% sure that he’s personally the victim of some sort of betting pool because whenever Lucas hears the number he always manages to groan , making Max grin at him , give him a faux sweet look and probably loot him for all he’s worth soon as they all disperse.

“You guys are over-exaggerating ,” Will mutters , clutching the neck of his Corona like a lifeline. “Just because a couple - ”

“A couple ? A couple ?”

Will looks up at Mike. He’s learning forward on the couch , his eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open. He looks at him like he knows Will is full of shit , knows that Will is purposely undercounting the girls who ask him out just so he can brush it under the carpet.

“Let’s see.” He takes a drag of his beer and looks thoughtfully at the ceiling whilst rewinding his memories of the week , “Monday , after Lunch , Heather Rayne came up near the vending machine and tried to ask him to buy her a box of candy. I asked her if she didn’t have two dollars of her own , and she just sniffed and walked off. Then Tuesday , Sasha Walker asked him to the local steakhouse , and she asked him out on Thursday again after Will said no the first time. It’s like , get a fucking clue , right ? Back to Wednesday - ”

Will tries not to read into it as Mike rambles on about his list of admirers. Every word and experience is remembered in proper technicolor - Mike goes as far as remembering their last names , and considering Will doesn’t even remember their first names - 

“Alright , Wheeler , we get it you know him and his gang of lovers,” Before Mike can bite back , Lucas shifts to look at Will instead. He stares at him really quite unnervingly , and momentarily he wonders what Lucas is trying to figure out by looking at him like this.

“So. Thinking of accepting any invites ? Anyone asked you out today ? Before Mike caught them, obviously.”

And there it is. 

Will stutters while he tries to come up with an answer , trying his best to ignore the incessant gaze burning against the back of his head. Mike’s the wordsmith out of the two of them , but Will usually knows enough to speak , except now -  this is the first time he’s hiding something from them , the first time someone who by all means fits all (but one) criteria that Will has for a potential date. 

Except - he can’t really tell them that , can he ?

His mouth opens and closes like a goldfish. 

“No ,” he pushes out , “No one asked me out today.” Then , after a pause where he stares very determinedly at the floor , not meeting anyone’s eyes , “And I’ve not got my eye on anyone either.”

From his right , Dustin places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You need to talk to Steve ,” he informs him sagely , “He’s actually really good at giving dating advice. Now about sex - you kinda have to-”

Will cuts Dustin off by waving a hand. Talking about his dating life is one thing , but sex life ? He’s never so much as kissed anyone.

“I’m not taking dating or sex advice from Steve Harrington , Dustin.”

He doesn’t know as much about Steve as he ought - other than the very obvious fact that he gets around and that sometimes when in campus coffee shops he often sees Robin slip him an extra croissant. He wonders maybe if Robin is his girlfriend. He’s about to ask when he hears Mike open yet another bottle of beer from next to them and whilst Will is distracted watching Mike’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he drinks , Dustin starts yet again.

“He’s not as bad as you think he is. All he did is … give some useful tips.” His eyes light up as he runs his hand through his hair and puts his hand on Will’s shoulder , fingers pressing into his collarbone. “Like , basically , think - try touching her , when you’re asking her out. Touching is always good.”

Mike snorts from behind them. “He’s trying to get you on a list.”

“Shut up , Wheeler. Do you have any better advice ?”

The whole room shifts to look at Mike. He’s wearing his in-between outfit - the bottom is  blue checkered pajama pants and on top a dark blue hoodie that he probably bought when he was fourteen but still somehow fits. But his cheekbones are the real star of the show - the soft smattering of light brown freckles are hidden by the rosy pink flush that’s blooming on his face.

He’s gorgeous, really. Will wants to kiss him all over. He has to take a sip of beer to relieve his suddenly dry mouth.

“No. I don’t- I don’t have any advice for Will to - ” His mouth twists into a mean little frown , “Get a girlfriend.”

“So shut up and let the grown-ups talk. Hand on shoulder , Will. Maintain eye contact. Make those baby green-brown whatever the fucks sparkle , and make that dimple-” he says forcefully poking Will’s right cheek , “shine.”

Will rubs his cheek after Dustin finishes his tutorial with a flourish. He doesn’t know what Steve’s been doing , or if there’re any steps that Dustin forgot to relay but he knows that if Steve Harrington is getting babes it’s not because of the way he puts a hand on their shoulders.

“I need a beer.” Mike mutters getting up , and before Will can even ask for one , Mike without looking waves a hand at him. “I’ll get you one too.” Then he stalks off to the kitchen , leaving Will with the stupid cold that always comes in his absence.

The party melts into chatter soon enough, and even though Dustin tries to give him more pieces of Harrington advice (‘Tongue your cheek , they’ll love that.’), soon enough Max threatens - promises , more like , to throw them all out the window unless they put her pick on the TV sharpish , making them all fall over each other to get the little disc into the DVD player. Will’s buzzing with alcohol right now - unlike Mike , he needs at least six to consider himself drunk. But he never lets him get to that many - blacking out for him could mean he wakes up in the morning with Mike not being able to look him in the eye because he said one thing too many. After Mike brings him one , that’ll be his last.

The movie starts quickly , and Will lets half an hour pass before he begins to consider the possibility that Mike might just be avoiding the film. Dustin and El have pulled out a deck of UNO cards and Dustin’s telling her very softly the difference between a 6 and a 9 , and Max is practically on top of Lucas,  piled together talking softly , despite it being Max’s own pick that the two of them are ignoring.

He’s about to get up and get Mike , to at least have his company next to him , lolling his head onto Will’s shoulder and talking hurriedly about something completely unrelated to the movie , when the man of the hour stumbles out the kitchen  , carrying a half empty beer bottle that Will thinks is meant to be for him. He must have had at least three , Will calculates and that means that  - 

Mike stumbles on to Dustin and El , interrupting their card game by sitting down on the deck, ignoring Dustin’s groans. But Mike right now , unlike Mike a half hour ago ,  has a wonderfully crooked and loving smile on his face.

“Dusty - dustybin , did I ever tell you how much I just - just fucking love you. Did you know that ? If I’m the heart - you’re the um. You’re the neck. But - I love you. Do you know that Dustbin ?” Despite Mike’s slurring equating to calling Dustin a trashcan he’s still clearly affected by Mike’s words. Mike rarely ever gets like this - all showering and open and so generous with the way he loved. He loved them all the time , of course , but usually Mike never ever told anyone that he loved them - he showed them in minuscule little ways like being the best gift giver on the planet , or always getting chocolate cake even on his own birthday , just because it’s Will’s favorite. He was warm when he was drunk but sober Mike was just as bad , except he hid it very well.

He points at El , and grabs onto her shoulders and for just one selfish second Will’s heart capsizes in his chest. He wonders internally if this is gonna be some sort of a confession scene - if he’s going to use the opportunity to tell El that he wanted to get back together with her , that he was sorry for ever breaking up with her in the first place.

Will wishes Mike would hand over the half-finished beer , so he won’t have to be sober to watch. He lets out a deep breath , ignoring the aching in his lungs.

“El- El- you know you’re super cool right ,” he tells her , “Like super super cool.”

“Yes ,” she nods seriously, “I am super cool. You do not lie.”

Mike nods back and Will holds his breath , not believing his luck at Mike traipses on to Max and Lucas on the beanbag where Max is already squinting at him suspiciously.

“Mad Max , you know you’re - ” he hisses out behind his teeth and Max burrows into the beanbag even more , likely terrified of getting into Mike’s splash zone. “Your taste in films is actually real good. Better than the rest of the losers. And I love you too.” He taps her knee lightly before gripping onto Lucas’s with an iron fist. 

“Lucas , my wholesome , loyal ranger. You’re so good at doing the basket ball thing. And hey if you wanna have a demon girlfriend , you do that. I love you. I hope you guys stay together forever. Dibs on best man.”

“Hey ,” Dustin yells , from the table , “I didn’t know we were dibsing best man already !”

“We’re not ,” Lucas says , cheeks flaming, eyes darting down to his girlfriend who’s clearly finding the whole scene fucking hilarious , “I’m not even engaged yet , you dick , ” hurling the insult at Mike.

But Mike , Will knows , has tuned them all out. 

His eyes are completely zeroed in on Will and he can practically watch the wheels turn in Mike’s head , his brain repeating that one goal , that one word like a carousel going round and round.

Will , will , will.

Selfishly , Will wants Mike to think of him like that all the time , the way Will thinks of him. Mike invades Will’s thoughts like some kind of plague , blighting every single nerve with memories of when he smiled , when he laughed, when he looked for Will upon entering rooms on his own.

Mike practically leaps over to Will , letting some of the beer slosh over the top of the bottle , spilling onto the carpet. When he gets to Will , he doesn’t sit down besides him. He stands there , looking Will up and down examining him like he’s a specimen in a museum , or a piece of art in a gallery. Then he shoves the bottle in Will’s hand , and Will knows the drill by now , raising both his arms so Mike can comfortably flop down onto the couch with his head in Will’s lap.

When he does , and Will looks down at him , he can’t even fucking breathe. His brown eyes are almost black , pupils completely blown. He’s so close , that Will can smell him , smell the  clementine he eats every morning on his breath mixed with the sour of beer , count every single freckle on his goddamn face. When he’s like this - eyes looking up at Will , nuzzling into the hand Will’s accidentally let drift down to stroke at his cheekbones - Will can’t believe there was ever even a second he didn’t know he was in love with him. 

“Will ,” he whispers in a sing song voice.

“Yeah ?”

He gestures for Will to come closer and Will leans forward , so that Mike’s breath is hot against his neck. If he leaned up even a quarter of an inch - 

“I love you the most ,” he whispers and Will’s melting , a puddle on the ground. He wants to hold Mike’s face in his hand and press his cheeks together , wants to card his fingers through Mike’s hair and make him see just how much Will loves him , just how much he thinks of him all day, everyday. 

“Do you now ?” he says in a low voice ,  look right into Mike’s eyes. Mike lips quirks up at one side. 

“Yeah.” His tone goes all hazy , but it’s still earnest as ever when he says , “you’re my favorite.”

And there it is. 

He doesn’t specify person , or thing , or friend. He just says favorite. Of all the things in the world , all the things Mike loves , all the people , Will’s his favorite. 

He feels an urge to hug him close to himself , to chain them together by their wrists and take Mike with him everywhere. It seems unbearable, unfit , all of a sudden that he should spend even a second without him. Mike, who finds it insanely easy to say things like this to Will , throwing out words like this that from anyone else in the world would make Will think that they were in love with him. But this is Mike , and Mike wouldn’t be. Not with Will.

But still -

“Do you want to know a secret ?” he murmurs softly and Mike shivers but nods anyways , looking up at Will wondrously , “you’re mine too.” 

And Mike laughs , small but still golden , injecting itself into Will’s heart making it beat faster like some kind of drug. It’s bad , unkind really that Mike does this to him and doesn’t even know. Doesn’t even care. 

But Mike still is Will’s favorite and he probably always will be.

Unless - he shifts around so he can reach into his pocket and set the beer down on the floor. He pulls out his phone , taking care not to disturb the now drowsy Mike , and types in a number and using all his willpower and not looking down in his lap even once , he texts Ryan.

Maybe he won’t be Will’s favorite , but Will can’t afford not to give him a shot.

———

It’s been a week since he texted Ryan and he’s been feeling oddly nervous about it. He has the weird sensation of being a criminal whenever he talks to any of his friends , which is weird , because he’s not doing anything wrong and Ryan’s not all that bad.

He was very understanding about the fact that Will wasn’t out yet , and when they scheduled the date for a week on Friday - which got here so fucking fast - he suggested a nice diner an hour out of town that Will had never even heard of. He’s even got a couple of genuine laughs out of Will - one of his nun jokes somehow got a laugh out of Mike , until he found out it was Ryan who told the joke after which suddenly nothing was funny at all.

That was another thing. Mike definitely didn’t like him -  after Mike and El had broken up , he’d been as attached to Will as he was before he’d ever met her , and even though they spent a lot of time with the party , they spent so much time just them , Mike and Will. And if he found out that Will was talking to someone , a guy , and didn’t tell him - after all he’d said to Mike over the summer , all they’d promised to each other about never keeping secrets - well , it might make them fight again. It might mean that there’d be a huge , great big fight , and Mike might not want Will near him anymore. 

And Will might be able to stand Mike never being in love with him , but if Mike didn’t want him around , that might put him six feet under. 

Of course , he spent a lot of time telling himself that Mike was a good guy , that he’d never think of Will as disposable enough to push him out just because he didn’t tell him he was gay , but Will thinks that he’s entitled to a single date , so long as he’s careful about it. And if it goes well , then he can tell Mike , and they can tell the party together. Soon enough , he’ll get a boyfriend and more importantly get over Mike. 

The point was , he really shouldn’t be feeling this pit of dread in his stomach. He should be over the moon excited - this is a chance , a real and true chance to stop wallowing in his dread , and get out the fucking house for once. He looks like he’s about to kick it , he thinks - he’s ghostly pale , and oddly sweaty , even though the wind has changed so much that he’s started dipping into his sweater collection.

Right now as he and Mike are walking back to his car ,  he’s wearing a soft green one over his favorite blue jeans - it’s one of his comfort outfits , and now that it’s that fall-winter season , he thinks he’s entitled to start his carousel of around three outfits to switch between everyday till winter break because otherwise he’ll stay stuck in front of his wardrobe for a minimum of three hours everyday then decide that college wasn’t even that important anyways. 

Will cracks open the door and sits down with perhaps the largest deepest sigh in the world , and starts looking out the window as Mike reverses out his parking spot. 

“Will ,” Mike says , voice tinged with concern , “What’s wrong with you ?”

Suddenly , the tall trees and beige sidewalks aren’t as interesting to Will. He looks at his best friend with mild amusement instead , and raises his eyebrows even though he knows Mike probably can’t see. 

“Oh , don’t look at me like that , wiseass. You know what I mean.” Okay , so he can see. Or maybe he just knows Will well enough to have cataloged all his facial expressions , and to know which one he’s whipped out. His voice is impossibly gentle when he speaks again , and it makes Will shift uncomfortably in his  seat , “What’s going on , sorcerer ? I know you. You’ve been off all week and I know you’re not sick - ” This was true. Will’s rarely sick , and when he is , he’s always horrendously-stuck-in-bed-can’t-go-to-school sick. “- so what’s going on. You know you can tell me anything.”

Will really doesn’t want to lie to him. He feels something itch in his throat , and before he knows it , he’s telling Mike as much as he can , leaving out some … unimportant details. That doesn’t count as lying , really.

“There’s a project proposal ,” he rushes out , “for one of my classes. And um - There’s like a range of them. And I got assigned Project Proposal B. Even though I wanted Project Proposal A. So now I’m …”

He trails off , hoping Mike will fill in the blanks.

“Why can’t you have Project Proposal A ?”

Will blinks. He didn’t expect him to start asking questions. 

“My professor said it was meant for … a different type of art student. Said I just wasn’t meant for it.”

Mike furrows his brows.

“Well , that’s not really fair . Me personally , I think you should get the project proposal you actually want.”

Will just knows the world is laughing at him right now. He sort of wishes there was an eject button for the passenger seat so he could launch himself straight into the sun to avoid this pseudo-conversation with Mike. 

“It doesn’t work like that ,” he mutters resignedly , “Project Proposal A just wouldn’t have worked with me. Project Proposal B is easier at least ,” he tacks on , “Won’t have to do a lot of extra work to get that one done.”

“I don’t know , Will ,” Mike says , deep in thought - and wow , he’s taking Will’s fake issue real serious - “I think you could still get A if you tried hard enough to convince your prof - ”

“All decisions are final.”

Will can’t deal with this , with Mike indirectly rooting for himself without having the slightest clue what he’s doing.

“Aw , Will , I’m sorry.” He darts his eyes quickly to Will who’s playing with the loose threads at the end of his sweater , “I suppose you can give B a go at least , yeah ? You’ll smash it , I know you will. Do better than Ricky at least - ”

Oh , for God’s sake. 

They’re nearly home now , and when they reach a red light , Mike finally turns to look at Will completely. Traffic’s heavy , and Mike really just takes his time looking at Will until he’s worried that Mike’s about to tell him to haul his ass out the car because he’s not as stupid as he looks and he knows that Will wasn’t really talking about some stupid project proposals. 

But then , he shoots him a sympathetic smile. 

“I know you’re feeling down about it. Do you want to go catch a movie ? We can even go get crunchwrap supremes from Taco Bell. My treat , obviously.”

Will’s heart catches in his chest. He feels very much that it’s like his sweater right now , old and worn out but so incredibly comfortable and familiar in its patterns , in speeding up exactly when Will needs it to slow down. It sounds perfect , really , what Mike is suggesting.

Which is exactly why he can’t go. 

“No ,” he mumbles , praying for a green light , “ I can’t. I have to go study tonight.”

Lie number … what is he on now ? 4 ? 5 ?

“We can study together later ,  you know I’ve actually been meaning to get my short story brushed up , I’m not really sure if - ”

“No , Mike. I have to study as in I have to study with … my friend. From class.”

Mike instantly drops his smile. The green light turns on and it takes at least three honks from the cars behind for him to lift his eyes off Will and actually start driving. 

“You’re abandoning your childhood best friend , your paladin for - Ricky ? Ricky McShitty with the fuckass nun joke ? He’s a di-”

Will rolls his eyes hard. 

“Mike ,” he interjects tersely , “he’s a good guy , alright ? What problem do you have with him ? And  his name’s Ryan , by the way.”

He hisses out a breath from between his teeth. “I don’t know , I just - I don’t like him , okay ?  You know I care about you … and you trust really easily. So just … be careful , I guess.”

Will softens. Mike’s always been protective over him - he’s heard stories from Lucas and Dustin of things he’s said while Will wasn’t even there , and he was one of the only people who believed that Will wasn’t dead yet , one of the only people who’s always , always been on Will’s side. He’s used to protecting Will from all the bad guys in the world , so it’s only natural for him to be on the offense.

Mike pulls into their road now , and begins parking the car. 

“Thanks, Mike. But I can handle myself just fine.”

They’re just about getting out of the car and walking up to the door when Mike replies.

“Yeah , I know you can. But - just don’t let him copy off you , okay ? He definitely seems like some kind of loser cheater , and - ”

“As if you’ve never cheated off me before.”

Mike gives Will a look of utter affront as they walk inside.

“That’s - that’s different. I’m me. Who even is that guy ?”

Will doesn’t reply to this. But he thinks about it as he gets ready , thinks about it as he picks out a smart looking shirt , as he styles his hair with a little gel. 

Mike is definitely different. 

There’s no disputing that one.

----

Will is outside now , staring at the big bright red sign that says ‘Rosie’s Diner’ and  contemplating if he should go in or not. 

He’d made his decision already , missing out on a very much needed comfort evening with his best friend , taking himself out of his zone to be here. So why the fuck is it this hard to go in ? 

Maybe , he thinks to himself , it’s because he slipped out like a thief in the night , without knocking on Mike’s room to say bye or anything. He feels guilty , for some reason , like he’s cheating on someone - which is crazy  , considering he has no one he could cheat on. He wishes he had someone to cheat on. Will cricks his neck side to side , thinking about how nice his outfit is - a white button down shirt over a smart pair of black pants  - before he wipes his hands on them and takes a deep breath. 

It’s for your own good , he thinks while walking inside , It has to be. 

He waves a meek hello to the hostess , before going straight for the back table where he spots the mop of brown hair.

“Hey ,” he says to Ryan , sliding into the soft booth , “Hello.” He wrings his hands together nervously and shoots a shy smile at him. “How are you ?”

Ryan , to his credit , isn’t sweating at all. It occurs to Will that he’s definitely not as inexperienced as Will is , and that he’s not doing this in a severe last-ditch attempt to get over his straight best friend. He almost feels sorry for the man , when he smiles widely at them , almost vibrating out of his seat in excitement. His hair’s been slicked with gel , but several locks at the front run free over his temple anyways , giving his head the look of a wilted pineapple. 

“Sorry if I seem nervous ,” he starts , voice faltering , “I’ve never done this before.”

“No , it’s okay,” Ryan laughs , “I’ll get it going for us. So , what the hell was going on with Dr Rush’s smart board today ?”

Will tries his best to smile back , and continues talking with him about their Art lesson , but there’s still something here that he finds off. Ryan is perfectly wonderful - he orders a BLT with a crispy diet coke , and he seems to have an interesting enough life with two sisters, a brother and a dog called Dog , because that’s the kind of obvious humor he has. He does tend to talk whilst mid-bite , and there’s a couple times when listening to him talk that he’s been sprayed with saliva and lettuce , but Will knows it’s not on purpose. 

But still , there’s something missing. 

And it’s nothing to do with Ryan’s table manners.

“So ,” Ryan asks , handing Will the dessert menu , “What do you think about dessert ?”

“I think it’s delicious. Dessert’s the best portion of the meal.” He smiles hopefully , waiting for Ryan to catch the joke , but he just bats his eyes confusedly at Will , eager , probably to get onto something sweet. So Will just grabs the menu embarassed as hell , looking through it , when he spots something interesting. 

Cinnamon twists. 

They’re Will’s favorite dessert in the whole world , and it feels like a little hello on the page just for him. He specifically likes the ones Mike brings home for him when he’s head over heels depressed because Will gets a sweet tooth when he’s especially sad , and he remembers a couple months ago in September , he’d been unable to get out of bed all day , homesick for Hawkins - which he didn’t even know you could be until that point.

It wasn’t really about Hawkins , though. It was more about everything he felt being away for the first time , fearful that without the threat of being pulverized , everyone was going to realize that he never had much going for him anyways , and maybe that he needed at least seven demos to be able to show a smidgen of potential. It was the internal crunch that comes with being both grateful and afraid of leaving the town you grew up in. 

He remembers that day so vividly , the imprint his head had made on the pillows , the way all his friends had practically sat vigil by his side before promising him that they’d be there whenever he was ready to talk. He’d not even responded , moving only when the arm under his shoulder shifted and Mike left , coming back eventually with a box of hot cinnamon twists glazed with icing. He’d held it out as an offering , and Will had accepted like a promise and still to this day, it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten.

And he’ll only ever eat it when Mike gets it for him from the little Italian café they pass everyday on the way to college every morning , because it felt a little like betrayal otherwise. It was tradition that whenever Will was down , they’d be wordless about it , and share those damn cinnamon twists whether it was in the park at Midnight or huddled together over with a mug of hot chocolate on the floor of his bedroom , despite there being a bed behind them and a desk in front.

So despite his heart smiling just a little bit, he shoves that feeling back in and he’s just about to order a slice of the cherry pie , when he hears a sound that makes his back go ramrod straight and very much nearly spontaneously combust. 

“Will ?”

He goes completely still hoping that if he doesn’t move , he’ll blend into his surroundings. He pushes his back against the cushioned booth but of course - it doesn’t work.

Mike’s coming up to the table anyways , his hair all mussed up , donning his favorite red hoodie with the white outline of a web right at the zip - he’s wearing a pair of classic black jeans and some dumb fuck flip flops that echo in Will’s head as he walks on over squinting at Will , not looking at Ryan even once , despite the fact that Will knows Mike knows that Ryan’s there too. When he finally reaches the two of them , he finally deigns to look at Ryan too , eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them like a ping pong ball , and hand scratching the back of his head like he’s confused to a whole new height. 

“What are you - ”

Will cuts in before Mike manages to come to a conclusion.

“We were studying and then we decided to take a little break.” He gestures to the plate with his unfinished Monte Cristo and 100% finished glass of Dr Pepper. His smile is unnatural , dimples just a little too painful.

Mike nods.

“Right , Right.” He purses his lips , an inscrutable look on his face. “So why were you an hour out of town ?”

“Actually , he doesn’t need to - ”

Mike clenches his jaw. For a second , Will swears he even bares his teeth , like he’s about to bite someone.

“Was not talking to you , Ricardo. Zip it.”

Will flushes , scratching the back of his neck and shooting Not-Mike - fuck , Ryan - an apologetic look.

“Ryan ,” he emphasizes turning back to campus , “um - lives around here. We were at his house , got hungry , so we came here.”

The world feels like its about to implode upon itself in the minute it takes from Mike to melt , and nod imperceptibly , indicating that he believes in Will’s intricate web of lies. But melt it does , and so does the ice in Will’s chest. He’s believed it. The universe is on his side for once. 

“Mike ?”

Okay , so maybe not.

He leans forward to see who’s calling Mike’s name , and when he sees it’s El , the urge to vomit right on the table eclipses every other feeling. It’s rising like bile in his throat , and he knows that just for a second before he’s able to school his face , he probably looked like he’d been stabbed like Caesar. 

Which he has , basically. Kind of. Not really , but really.

Because - Will’s at the diner because he’s on a date. And if Mike’s here with El -

He has no right to feel this way , he reminds himself before he starts heavy breathing. So what if Mike hadn’t told him that he got back together with El ? He was probably just working it out , wanting to harden the foundations of the relationship between him and his girlfriend - jesus , Will’s going to be sick.

It doesn’t matter he wasn’t told. It can’t. They’re tit for tat now , at least. 

“Will ,” El waves , “Hello.” She’s about to say something else , Will can tell , but unlike Mike , she’s way more aware of her surroundings. He sees her look at Will , at Ryan and the plates between them and sees the understanding dawn on her. 

Quickly, she tugs on Mike’s arm , probably wanting to get back to her own date ASAP.

“Mike , we should go , our order’s - ”

But Mike’s as still as a statue. He moves forward , and with almost robotic movements , slides into the booth besides Will , and Will , pliable as ever lets him. 

“No , no , El , they’re on a study break. We can wait with them , surely.”

Will looks at Ryan , who looks back at him , slightly unnerved. Besides them , El sighs in resignation and shoves herself into the minimal space left on Will’s side of the booth. 

Great. So now Will’s on a date with his best friend and his sister. 

“So ,” Ryan begins bravely , “do you want the strawberry tart ?”

“Will hates strawberries.” 

Mike practically spits at his face. He's  trying to be casual about it - flipping through the menu , bored , almost , elbow knocking into Will’s , a little zap of electricity going through Will everytime it does and he inhales sharply. He’s on a date , and somehow Mike’s found himself on it too , being his usual fucking delightful self. El’s pointedly not looking at Will - she at least , has the wherewithal to look at nothing but the red linoleum floor, and every few seconds elbows Mike roughly , who ignores her with equal roughness. 

“Alright then ,” Ryan flips his own menu closed. “I’ll get an orange dreamsicle. And we can share.”

He’s trying to be romantic , Will realizes. He applauds him for the effort in his brain , and sends him a telepathic ‘I’m really , really , sorry for what’s about to happen to you’ and just as he predicted , Mike’s neck snaps up from the menu he’s pretend perusing and he looks at Ryan with a bone-deep disgust.

“Share ? Why the hell would you share ?”

He looks back at Will , hoping to share an incredulous look , but Will can’t even meet his fucking eyes.

“Microwave Healer , order number seven , Microwave Healer , order number seven.”

They’re very bad at names , he thinks but at least he’s been saved by the bell , if the way El stands up is any indication. Mike tries very hard to ignore it - Will can tell that he wants to stay , to get answers. He’d sew himself to Will if he could , would handcuff their wrists together. He’s half scared that as soon as he’s out of Will’s eyesight , he’ll run a background check on Ryan. 

Finally , El manages to tug Mike hard enough that he nearly falls ass-first on the ground. If Will had to guess , there was likely a little bit of magic involved there , which meant El was getting desperate. 

When Mike reorients himself from that close call , he stands there , miffed as hell.

“Share ?” He repeats , like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard in his life , “Share? What’s next , Riley , you gonna share his test answers ? I know dipshits like you , and I know you probably just want to get ahead in class don’t you , well I’m not gonna - ”

Whatever he was gonna is swallowed by a sharp hit to his back by El that makes him hiss out in pain. Despite the irritation Will feels , he very nearly asks Mike if he’s alright - but pushes the instinct down as quickly as it came. He shoots one last look of utter loathing in Ryan’s direction , and then he marches sullenly up to the counter to grab his order. 

But before Will can even blink , he’s back , clutching a plastic bag in his hands. He’s about to go on another tirade - Will can tell by the way his flipflops are making angry squelching sounds against the floor , which he knows Mike wishes was the menacing sound of his boots - but El clutches his shoulder , digging her nails in a way that’s meant to injure probably , and whispers something in his ear. He glares at Ryan , seething , before he turns to Will.

Will , who looks like a traffic cone that tragically got ran over. 

“I’ll be in the parking lot.”

He gives him one last meaningful look , before he stalks off to his car with El , who grasps his arm tightly , as if she’s afraid he’s going to run back and throw a plate in Ryan’s face. When he finally leaves , Will lets out an embarassed groan and bangs his head against the table. He’s not joking when he thinks he’d rather go back to the Upside Down than live through whatever that was again. His voice is heavy with embarrassment when he speaks again , looking at Ryan positively mournfully.“Oh my god , oh my god , oh my god , I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologizes , profusely , burning with embarassment , “I did not know he was gonna be here , he’s not usually like that I swear - ”

“Will , calm down.”

He stops babbling.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” He shrugs and looks at Will , smiling , though his ears are tipped with pink , “Wheeler’s a part of your life , and I’m just gonna have to deal with it. Anything for a hot guy , huh ?”

Will flushes a deep maroon when Ryan says that, So his date isn’t completely over , not yet at least. He leans back and taps his foot nervously before he opens his mouth again.

“I don’t think I can do dessert ,” He nods his head towards the exit door. Ryan just laughs understandingly. He’s really quite nice , Will considers. 

“No problem. We can call it a day now , and get two desserts next time. Hey - ” he stops Will as he’s getting up and pulling out his wallet to split the tab , or leave a tip , at least give some contribution , “talk me up in front of him , okay ? I want him to like me.”

Will inhales through his teeth, avoiding mentioning how that’s probably never going to happen , before leaving three $10 notes on the table. Ryan , unlike what Will thought he was  going to do , does not decline , but pulls the money towards himself.

“Text me when you get home ?” He smiles again - he’s always smiling , isn’t he ? And yet , he’s got no dimples , no freckles. No knockout smirk that shakes his point of view. Will nods anyways , saying goodbye and giving what he hopes is an award-winning smile before he finally walks out. 

It’s a shame the ceiling doesn’t give in before he gets to the parking lot.

———

Mike is within an inch of the door when he leaves.

Will nearly walks straight into him. El , ever the sensible , is standing two feet away , arms folded , looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here. 

“Will ,” he sighs out , not noticing the way Will’s lip twitches , “Thank fuck. I knew you’d come out , but I was still - ”

With an inordinate amount of courage , Will butts in and asks the question burning everywhere in his body.

“What were the two of you doing here ? You couldn’t go on a date closer to home ?”

His voice is hiding barely concealed rage - not really at Mike , because despite the fact that he was rude and irritating and condescending , he might not have been had he known what he was walking into. He’s angry more at himself , angry how despite a semi-disaster of a date , this is the thing he’s most concerned about. 

Mike’s mouth falls open immediately , but surprisingly it’s El who speaks up.

“We,” she emphasizes , and Mike looks at her , eternally befuddled , “definitely weren’t on a date ,” and Mike nods hurriedly along with her , “Mike wanted some cinnamon twists , and I have a coupon for a free pizza with a drink and side.”

The relief that washes over him is the best thing he’s ever felt. It’s idiotic , how blessedly grateful he is for this , like it means anything in the grand scheme of things. Suddenly , something else clicks in his head.

“Wait ,” he looks directly at Mike , “cinnamon twists ?”

Mike instantly understands what he means , “Yeah,” he whispers , “You looked down , and I wanted you to feel better. So  , cinnamon twists.”

It’s a testament to how down bad he is that something soft blooms in his chest and he gives Mike a soft smile.

“Why didn’t you get them from the usual place though ? That Italian café ?”

Mike winces , sucking in a tight breath and looking down at the ground steeling himself before he answers Will.

“Yeah , here’s the thing. This - ” he points to the diner , “ is the usual place. I just knew that if I told you that you’d never ever ask for them or let me go again.”

Mike’s absolutely right. Whenever he’s gone , he’s always gone by himself and the last time he went it was at nearly two am in the morning. He feels horrified now , horrified that he made Mike drive alone so late at night , especially when he knows Mike prefers to stick together. He’d have never let him go by himself if he’d known and the only reason he didn’t realize Mike was taking hours and hours to bring them back to him is because he had no sense of time passing at all when he got like that.

“Mike,” Will says softly , “How did you even find this place ?”

“Just - driving around.”

He wonders how long he must driven around that very first time to get here. He wonders how Mike had known that this was the perfect place , that these would help Will get back to himself again. Had it been a guess ? Or had it been some sort of divine intervention hammering down in his head , twists glowing like a halo on the menu , waving to him like they’d waved to Will just now ?

Suddenly , Will’s hit with a wave of affection for his best friend. For a second , love’s all he’s made of - all he can breathe , see , hear. Love is in Mike’s hand , in that little plastic bag.  And there his heart goes again , a blue flame lighting it up , coloring his face in all manners of dangerous hope. 

Will needs to quash it. 

The Monte Cristo and Dr Pepper from earlier are hitting all the wrong points and the relief and love churn together , making him feel ill. Because maybe Mike cares , maybe Mike would do anything for him. Maybe he’s broken up with El , but it’s still only going to take another five minutes to find someone who fit into right into his life like a puzzle piece. The reality of it is crushing.

He realizes that Mike and El are talking to him right now , but they feel miles and miles away , and he holds out a hand to stop them , leaning down and gripping his knees , breathing hard.

But it doesn’t help at all and he has to run at the speed of light to the big trashcan near the dumpsters , and throw his insides up. It only takes a second for Mike to be there , rubbing circles around the small of his back. After another few excruciating minutes , he straightens  up , wiping his mouth and gratefully accepting the bottle of sprite El worriedly holds out to him and taking a sip.

“Will ,” Mike says , face tense with concern , “You okay ?”

He’s not. Of course he’s not. He wants to throw up all over again. But he just sits against the wall , sinking down until he’s sitting on the dusty , germ ridden ground. Mike and El join him silently , waiting patiently for him to say something. Will’s probably giving them a heart attack right now.

He can practically hear Mike’s brain come to the conclusion that Ryan probably drugged his food or something.He has to do something about this - he has to end this furious shame emanating from his chest , making him ashamed to do anything normal.

Maybe telling them - telling Mike - will get it over and done with. Maybe it’ll be better , then , Mike can hug him , tell him he loves him and do that one joke that ally friends always do - the one where they go ‘That’s great , but don’t go getting a crush on me !’

Then Will can bury his feelings deep in the ground , lock them up in a cave behind his heart. 

"Me and Ryan - we - we weren’t studying.” 

His shoes really are stunning right now.

“Were you just … running into each other ?” Mike asks , “Oh fuck , is he the reason you’re feeling so sick ? I’m gonna kill - ”

El shushes him loudly.

“Mike ,” she hisses , “shut up. Can’t you see Will’s about to tell us about the date he had with his boyfriend ? He is probably crying because they had a fight. Tell us , Will. It will be okay , I promise.”

“What ?” Mike yells. at the same time as Will gasps “You knew ?” 

Mike turns his head so fast there’s an audible noise and looks at him , astonished , shocked - all the ways that he can think of to describe the way that he’s absolutely , utterly and completely flabbergasted. 

“Yes. This is a date restaurant. Everyone around us was on a date.” She turns to shoot Mike an impatient look - Mike , who looks like he just got his shit rocked. “Are you really that stupid ? Did you not see Ryan holding his hand out ? That’s why he wanted them to share the slice.”

At last , Mike looks up at Will , an unreadable expression on his face. Will hates it.

“You’re … gay.”

“What does that mean ?”

Will forgot sometimes , that El had grown up in a lab. Even though they were out at college now , out of their small town and in California , a state far more liberal than Indiana , sometimes Will forgot to put words to things for her. No one had time to explain things to her in Hawkins , and once they all left , Will was too scared to bring it up.

“It means a boy who likes boys.”

El still looks confused. “Okay. But why is there a name for it ? Doesn’t everyone like boys ?”

“No ,” Will says quietly , bypassing Mike’s pinkened cheeks , “Not everyone. And some people … some people don’t like boys who like boys.”

The truth of it sits in the air between them , and he tries very hard not to think of Troy. Of his father. El shuffles forward on her knees and lifts his chin up. Her eyes are blazing with a protective fire , and she leans forward , her words gravely serious.

“If you ever meet these people , you tell me. I will kill them.” 

The statement conjures up a short laugh out of him , and he wipes the fresh tears out from his eyes , thankful more than ever for his sister and for the fact that despite growing up in the worst circumstances possible she was this generous with her love. She smiles at him , before sitting back down besides Mike. A Mike who looks like he’s solving an Einstenian equation inside his head. 

“Seriously ,” El says , “You didn’t know he likes boys ? He carries a tote bag and - ”

Mike yelps affrontedly. 

“So do I ! Carrying around a tote bag doesn’t make you not like girls , that’s a - that’s a - ” his expression goes flat again as he searches for the right word and Will feels sorry enough for him , so he swoops in to end his suffering.

“El , he’s right. It doesn’t make you gay.” He meets Mike gaze , steady as possible. “But I am.” 

Mike doesn’t answer for a minute. Will feels his resolve not to cry again slowly crumbling beneath Mike’s gaze.

Finally , his mouth opens.

“You’re gay.” He repeats.

Will nods in confirmation.

“And you were on a date with your boyfriend.”

He shakes his head. “Not my boyfriend. I just met him last week , in the hallway when I was waiting for you.”

El snorts and shoves Mike on his shoulder. “Well done for being late yet again , Mike. You got Will a date.”

Something flashes on Mike’s face , too fast for Will to catch.

Will blinks. 

“Do you … do you have a problem with me ?”

Mike eyes snap up from where they’d fallen back down. “What ? No , no. Never. I love you,” he adds emphatically , reanimated , moving to hug Will tightly , hug him as though he’s hoping for all Will’s worries and stresses to transfer to him. “We all do.”

He sniffs in the direction of the door , where they’d just seen Ryan. 

“I just think you could do better than that.”

His voice is so comically venomous , that it conjures a wet laugh out of Will , and Mike smiles too , getting up and then offering first Will , then El a hand to do the same. 

A better guy , huh ?

Will can think of one.

“Oh yeah ?” Will says ,  hiding his smile as they get in the car.

“Yes.” Mike intones seriously. Will’s heart softens. Mike grimaces , turning to look at Will.  “You’re not - going on a second date with him are you ?”

The very idea seems repulsive to Mike , and Will laughs , shaking his head. It’s barely a question. In his head , Ryan had cemented himself as one thing and one thing only - Not-Mike. Besides him , Mike lets out a sigh of relief and begins driving. 

Will and El start chatting while Mike hums along to an old song that begins playing on the radio. He feels monumentally better - like a huge weight has been lifted on his shoulders.

But still - there’s the Mike issue. 

And that’s the one that might actually kill him.