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Mike had always thought Valentine's Day was bullshit.
Back when he was with El, the whole thing had felt performative. He'd participated because that's what you were supposed to do, got her some flowers or chocolates and a card every year, but he'd never really understood what all the fuss was about.
Now, 19, single and watching his campus transform into a sea of red and pink as the date approached, he was more convinced than ever that it was just a corporate cash grab designed to make people feel bad about themselves.
He shouldered open the door to his dorm room, already composing his annual anti-Valentine's rant in his head, and found Will lying on his bed with his headphones on, staring at the ceiling.
Mike immediately dropped his backpack and walked up to Will’s bed. Will didn’t seem to notice him, so he pulled the headphones down around his neck. The Smiths leaked out, Morrissey's unmistakable baritone singing ‘… for once in my life, let me get what i want, lord knows it would be the first time-’
“Jesus, what are you listening to?”
Will blinked at him. “Oh, you're back. Uh. Nothing.” He sat up and turned off the music. “How was class?”
“Fine. Boring,” Mike said with a shrug. He kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed next to Will. “Hey, don't you have that… thing today? Your, uh—” He gestured vaguely. “The gay event thing?”
Will winced slightly at the phrasing, but his expression was more tired than annoyed. “It's tomorrow. Valentine's Day.”
“Right. Obviously.” Mike leaned back against the wall. “You still going with the guy from your art history class?” He tried to sound casual.
“No,” Will said in a small, quiet voice. “We, um. We broke up.”
“Oh. When?” Mike asked carefully, doing his best effort to keep his tone neutral. His chest felt a little bit lighter, for some reason, which was stupid. He should feel bad for Will, not… whatever this was. He pushed the feeling down.
“Last week.”
“Shit. I'm sorry.” It was sincere. Well, mostly. There was a tiny, terrible part of him that wasn't sorry at all, but he ignored it. “What happened?”
Will gave a small shrug, refusing to meet his eyes. His fingers twisted together in his lap. “He wasn't ready to be out, I guess. And I get it, you know? It's scary. But he didn't want anyone to know we were together, and I… I just can’t do that. I don't want to hide, not anymore.”
Mike thought nacky about Will coming out a few years back and how brave that was. He couldn't imagine how hard it must've been, especially in a town like Hawkins. “Yeah. You shouldn't have to.”
“I know,” Will said quietly, but it sounded sad. “Anyway, that's why I'm not going tomorrow.”
“Wait, what? You're not going?”
“It's a Valentine’s thing, Mike. It's just gonna be couples there. There’s gonna be Valentine themed activities, dancing… I'm not going to show up alone.”
“But… you helped plan it.” Mike frowned. Will had been working on this for weeks. Mike had watched him design posters at his desk late at night, had listened to him talk about venue options and catering. “You worked really hard. And you were so excited for it.”
“I know.” Will finally looked at him, something sad and resigned in his expression. “But I don't want to be the only person there by myself while everyone else is with someone. I already…” He stopped, biting his lip, then shook his head. “Never mind.”
“What?”
“Nothing. It's stupid.”
“No, tell me.” Mike's hand found Will's shoulder, squeezing it gently.
“I just—” Will's voice was barely above a whisper. “I never got to do this stuff in high school, you know? Dances and dates and all that. I thought college would be different. I thought I'd finally get to have that, but I guess—” He laughed, bitter. “I guess not.”
Mike's chest ached. He remembered every school dance Will had skipped, every time Will had made an excuse to avoid something that would've required bringing a date. Mike had gone to prom with El and spent half the night feeling guilty, wondering if Will was okay.
He was not going to let that happen again.
“I'll go,” Mike said.
Will blinked at him. “What?”
“I’ll go with you. I'll be your date.” The words came out before Mike had fully thought them through, but once he said them, he committed. “As friends, you know. I’m sure it’ll be just as fun.”
“You hate Valentine’s Day,” Will pointed out.
Mike shrugged. “Yeah, but I can make an exception.”
Will's eyes went wide, surprised. He exhaled slowly, like he'd been holding his breath, and tilted his head to the side. “Mike… You don't have to—”
“I know. I want to.”
And he did. He hated the idea of Will missing this event he'd worked so hard on, sitting in their dorm room alone on Valentine’s Day listening to the fucking Smiths. And if that meant he had to attend a Valentine’s event for queer couples with him, well—so be it.
“Plus, you know. Free food, right?” he added.
Will was studying him with those wide eyes, uncertain. “You'd really do that for me?”
“Yeah, obviously. What are friends for?”
Something flickered across Will's face briefly, before he smiled. It was small, but genuine. “Okay. Yeah, okay. Thanks, Mike.”
“No problem.” Mike stood up, stretching. “So, what’s the dress code? Do I have to wear a suit?”
Will shook his head. “No, just… be yourself.”
“Okay. Good. Cause the one I own makes me look like a younger version of my dad, and I don't want you to have nightmares for a month.”
Will laughed, and Mike felt something warm settle in his chest at the sound.
At 6:45 on Valentine’s Day, Mike stood in front of his closet and realized he had no idea what to wear.
“It's not a big deal,” he muttered to himself, pawing through hangers. “It's just Will.”
Except Will had emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes ago in soft blue jeans that fit him perfectly and a yellow sweater with flower embroidery that made his eyes look even more green than usual, and Mike's brain had temporarily short-circuited.
“You look… nice,” Mike had said when he recovered the ability to speak.
“Thanks.” Will had ducked his head, smiling. “It's not too much?”
“No, it's—you look good. You look really good.” It was an understatement.
Now Mike was second-guessing every shirt he owned. Too casual. Too formal. Made him look too skinny. Nothing seemed good enough.
Why was he so nervous anyway? It was just Will, his best friend and now roommate. The person he'd known since kindergarten, who saw him grow up and go through puberty. Will had seen him at his absolute worst—acne, unfortunate haircuts, sudden growth spurts. There was no reason for his palms to be sweating right now.
“Are you okay in there?” Will asked, popping his head through the door. “You’re taking a while.”
“Yeah, just—” Mike grabbed a dark blue button-down and turned around, holding it in front of him. “Does this work?”
“Perfect.” Will's smile was soft. “Very you.”
Mike looked away. He didn't know why, but Will saying something was ‘very him’ made him a little… embarrassed. Flustered, almost.
He changed quickly, glanced at himself in the mirror, ran his fingers through his hair—it was getting longer, maybe he’d need to cut it again soon—and grabbed his jacket. “Ok, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Fortunately, the walk to the event location wasn’t very long. The LGBT+ association Will was a part of had found a venue near campus. It was cold outside, their breath fogging in the February air. Will's hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and Mike kept glancing at him as they walked. Will seemed okay, not as sad as he'd been the day prior, but there was still something… distant about him. Like he was somewhere else in his head, somewhere Mike couldn't follow.
They walked in silence for a bit before Will spoke up. “Thanks again for doing this,” he said quietly.
Mike shook his head. “Stop thanking me. I told you, I want to be here.”
Will gave a small smile, but didn’t reply.
As they got closer to the event, Mike noticed couples heading inside, laughing and holding hands.
He felt something tighten in his chest—not a good feeling.
They paused outside the entrance, and Mike saw Will's artwork displayed in the window, gorgeous watercolor posters with intertwined hearts and delicate lettering. He stopped to look at them.
“Will, these are amazing.”
“You think?” Will bit his lip. “I wasn't sure about the color scheme. I know Valentine’s stuff is usually red or pink, but I thought, it’s a queer event, so why not make it rainbow, you know?”
“It’s perfect.” Mike pulled open the door, warmth rushing out to meet them. “Come on.”
Inside was even prettier than the windows suggested. The space was decorated with lights and flowers, tables set with candles, a dance floor already filling up with couples swaying to soft music. Everything was bathed in that golden glow, romantic and intimate.
Mike suddenly felt uncomfortable. He didn’t belong here. But he promised he’d go, for Will, and it was too late to back out now. So he gritted his teeth and stepped in.
“Will!” A girl with purple hair and rainbow makeup rushed over, beaming. “You made it! Oh my god, your posters look so good displayed like this.”
“Thanks, Leah.” Will smiled, but Mike could see his eyes darting around the room, taking in all the couples.
Leah’s gaze shifted to Mike, curious and delighted. “And you brought someone!”
Mike opened his mouth—to say what, he wasn't sure—but Will jumped in first.
“This is Mike.”
“Oh!” Leah’s eyebrows shot up. She looked between them, something knowing in her expression. “THE Mike? As in, Mike Wheeler?”
Will stuttered, cheeks turning red. “I—yeah. That’s him.”
“It's so nice to finally meet you!” Leah grabbed Mike's hand, shaking it enthusiastically. “I’m Leah. Will talks about you all the time.”
“He does?” Mike looked at Will, who was now approximately the color of a tomato.
“Yeah! Come on, let me introduce you to everyone.” Leah was already walking away, gesturing for them to follow.
Mike fell into step beside Will. “What did you tell them about me?” he asked.
“Oh, uh. Just that you're my friend,” Will muttered.
His friend. That made sense, Mike guessed. Yet for some reason, he wasn't sure how to feel about it. Was that all he was to Will? Just a friend? They were supposed to be best friends. And why would Leah say it like that (“THE Mike”) like he was famous or something?
They wound through the room, past tables with candles and the dance floor where couples were already swaying together. Leah led them to a group clustered near the refreshments table.
“Everyone, this is Will's Mike!” Leah announced.
Will made a strangled noise. “He's not—I mean, this is Mike. My... roommate.”
A guy with glasses and a rainbow pin grinned. “Oh, we know. Will literally cannot shut up about you.”
“Daniel,” Will said weakly.
“What? It's true!” Daniel turned to Mike. “Last week he spent twenty minutes telling us about your latest campaign. Something about a corrupt king and—what was it again, Will? An ‘unfairly attractive villain’?”
“It wasn't twenty minutes,” Will protested weakly.
“And the week before that,” a girl with short blonde hair added, “he showed us that drawing you convinced him to submit for the art show.”
Mike wasn't sure what to do with that information. Will talked about him to his friends. A lot, apparently. Enough that they all knew his name, knew about his D&D campaigns, knew things Mike hadn't realized Will paid that much attention to. It made him feel… special. It was a nice feeling, even though the whole thing was a bit confusing.
“I'm really glad you came tonight,” Leah said warmly, squeezing Will's shoulder. “You deserve to be here with someone who appreciates you.”
Will's expression flickered—something like panic—and Mike frowned, confused. Someone who appreciates him? Did she mean…?
Daniel nodded. "Yeah, we were all worried after what happened, but..." He looked at the two of them and smiled. “I’m happy for you. Seriously.”
Mike opened his mouth, confused, but Will cut in quickly. “There's a photo booth, right? We should go do that before the line gets long.”
He was already moving, and Mike followed, still processing. As they walked away, Mike heard Leah say something that sounded like “They're kinda adorable together, right?”
Wait.
“Will,” Mike said, catching up. “Do your friends think we're dating?”
Will's face went red. “I didn't—I just said I was bringing someone, and they probably assumed—”
“They think I'm your boyfriend.” It wasn't a question.
Will bit his lip. “I can go back and explain—”
“No, it's—” Mike stopped. He should want Will to explain. But something about the way Leah had looked at them, relieved and happy, made him hesitate. “It's fine. We're already here. Might as well… you know. Roll with it.”
Will looked at him uncertainly. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Mike said, and he meant it. “I'm sure.”
The photo booth was tucked in the corner, a small curtained space with a bench seat and a backdrop painted with hearts, rainbows and intertwined venus and mars symbols.
“Okay,” Will said, looking at the setup. “Should we—?”
“Yeah, come on.” Mike ducked inside.
The bench was just wide enough for two. Will squeezed in after him and sat down, leaving a careful few inches of space between them.
“Um.” Will fumbled with the screen. “It takes four photos. Five seconds between each one.”
“Okay.” Mike glanced at the preview screen. With the space between them, they'd barely both be in frame. “We should probably—” He gestured at the gap.
“Oh. Right.” Will scooted closer. Their shoulders touched. Their thighs pressed together.
Mike's heart was beating too fast.
The first flash went off before they were ready. Mike was turned at an awkward angle, Will was looking down at the controls. When they saw the preview, Will let out a startled laugh.
“Okay, okay, for real this time.”
They tried to compose themselves. Sat up straighter. Mike put his arm around Will's shoulders because it felt natural, and Will leaned into him, and—
Flash.
“That one was probably better,” Will said softly.
“Yeah.”
For the third photo, they shifted slightly, and suddenly they were facing each other instead of the camera. Will's knee pressed against his. Their faces were maybe six inches apart. Mike could count the faint freckles across Will's nose, could see the way his pupils had dilated in the dim booth.
Will's smile had faded into something softer, more uncertain. He was looking at Mike in that soft gaze that was reserved only for him, and Mike couldn't look away.
The air felt thick. Mike's gaze dropped to Will's mouth without meaning to, just for a second, but when he looked back up, Will's lips had parted slightly, his breath catching, and they were so close, and Mike thought—
What if I just—
Flash.
The bright light shattered the tension. Will jerked back, laughing nervously, turning back toward the camera. “That one's definitely going to be weird.”
“Yeah,” Mike managed, his voice rough. “Probably.”
The fourth flash went off with them both staring straight ahead, sitting rigid, neither of them quite able to look at each other.
The screen displayed “PROCESSING” and they both scrambled out of the booth like it was on fire. Mike felt overheated, his hands unsteady.
The photo strip printed out a moment later. Mike grabbed it before Will could.
Four photos: the first one awkward and unprepared, the second one almost normal—them sitting close, Mike's arm around Will's shoulders. The third—
They were facing each other, so close their noses were almost touching. Will's eyes were soft. Mike didn’t recognize his expression. He looked…
Gone.
The fourth showed them both flushed and startled, facing forward.
“Can I see?” Will asked.
Mike held it up between them, but he didn't let go. His thumb traced over the third photo. “Do you mind if I hold onto it?” he asked.
Will looked at him, surprised. “Oh. Uh, no, of course, you can keep it.”
“Cool.” Mike folded the strip carefully and tucked it into his jacket pocket, right over his heart.
They stood awkwardly by the photo booth for a moment, neither of them quite sure what to do next. The music had shifted to something slower, and couples were pairing off on the dance floor.
Mike looked around the room properly for the first time. There were two guys swaying together near the front, one with his head on the other's shoulder. A pair of girls holding each other close, laughing about something. More couples, all different combinations, all just… openly themselves.
It hit him suddenly that everyone here was queer. Obviously. That's what the event was for. But seeing it like this, so many people just being open about it… Mike had never seen anything like it.
Growing up in Hawkins, being gay was something you whispered about. Something you definitely didn't advertise. Even here in the city, most of the queer people Mike had encountered were quiet about it, careful. But this room was full of people who were just… existing. Being themselves.
And here he was, standing in the middle of it, pretending to be Will's boyfriend. His hand was still warm from where it had rested on Will's shoulder in the photo booth; he could still feel the ghost of Will's knee pressed against his, of his breath on his skin, and that moment when they almost—
“Do you want to dance?”
Mike blinked. Will was looking at him, nervous, hopeful.
“Oh. Yeah. Of course.”
They made their way to the dance floor, hand in hand, and Mike's heart was racing again. This didn’t mean anything. It was just a dance.
Except everyone here assumed they were dating.
Will's other hand settled on his shoulder, and Mike put his free hand on Will's waist. They started swaying to the music. Will fit against him almost perfectly. And that was the thing, because they'd been friends for years, but Mike had never noticed how well they fit together until right now, pressed close on a dance floor surrounded by couples who were actually in love.
Mike looked around again. Nobody was staring at them. Nobody cared. Two guys dancing together was completely normal here, unremarkable.
And yet, Mike couldn't shake the feeling that he was doing something forbidden. Not wrong, exactly—just something that he, Mike Wheeler, wasn't allowed to do.
“You okay?” Will asked quietly.
Mike looked down at him. Will's face was tilted up toward his, worried. “Yeah. Just—” He gestured vaguely at the room. “There's a lot of people here.”
“We can leave if you want. If it's too much.”
“No, I'm—” Mike stopped. Was he okay? He was slow dancing with his best friend. At a queer event. Where everyone thought they were together. And instead of feeling weird about it, instead of wanting to pull away, he wanted…
He didn't know what he wanted.
“I'm fine,” Mike said. “I chose to be here.”
Will searched his face for a moment, then nodded. He rested his head against Mike's shoulder. Mike's breath caught. He tightened his grip on Will's waist slightly, and Will made a small sound, almost a sigh. Mike never wanted to let go of him.
This was… this felt…
He tried to organize his thoughts. He was straight. He'd dated a girl for years. He'd never even questioned it, never even thought that was an option. For other people, sure. But not for him. Never for him.
So why did this feel less like pretending and more like coming home?
He looked down at Will again. “Hey. Is this okay? This isn't… I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”
Will's expression did something complicated. “You're not making me uncomfortable, Mike.”
But his entire body had tensed up and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Mike frowned.
“Are you sure?” he asked, voice soft and worried.
“Yeah.” Will sounded distant. “I'm sure.”
He was lying, Mike could tell. He could always tell with Will. But before he could push, the song ended, and Will stepped back, putting distance between them.
“I'm going to get a drink,” Will said. “Do you want anything?”
“No, I'm good.”
Will disappeared into the crowd, and Mike stood alone on the dance floor, his hand still warm from where Will had been holding it, wondering what the hell was happening to him.
A new song started, something upbeat. Couples around him adjusted, laughing, pulling each other closer. Mike felt suddenly out of place, standing there by himself. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped off the dance floor.
He could still feel Will against him, the weight of his head on his shoulder, the way Will had fit perfectly in his arms. Mike had slow danced before. With El, at prom, at school dances. It had never felt like this. Like every nerve ending in his body was awake. Like it meant something.
And that's when it all stopped feeling so confusing.
He had to find Will immediately. He needed to… to talk to him, to figure out if maybe Will felt the same way. Maybe he had a chance. Maybe it wasn't too late to be honest—with Will, and with himself.
Mike scanned the crowd frantically and finally spotted Will near the back of the room, talking to Daniel. Mike started toward them, weaving through couples, but stopped when he got close enough to hear.
“… I can't do this.” Will's voice was strained. “I thought I could, but I can't.”
“Will, hey, it's okay—”
“It's not okay.” Will's hands were shaking around his cup. “He's being so perfect, Daniel. He's doing everything right, he’s so sweet and thoughtful and it's not real. None of this is real, and I'm just—I'm sitting here lying to myself about it.”
Mike froze.
“Maybe you should just tell him,” Daniel said gently.
“Tell him what? That I've been in love with him since we were kids? That this whole night has been everything I've ever wanted and it's torture because none of it means to him what it means to me? He's straight, Daniel. He's doing this as a favor because he felt bad for me. And I'm the idiot who agreed to it.”
Mike couldn't breathe.
Will was in love with him.
Will thought this wasn't real.
Will thought Mike was straight.
“I need—” Will's voice cracked. “I need a minute. I'm going to the bathroom.”
He handed his cup to Daniel and headed toward the hallway. Mike watched him go, frozen in place.
“You know, eavesdropping isn't polite.”
Mike jumped. Daniel was looking at him with a knowing expression.
“I wasn't—I didn't mean to—”
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough,” Mike said quietly.
Daniel studied him for a moment. “You should go talk to him.”
“I don't—what do I even say?”
“The truth might be a good start.” Daniel's expression softened. “He really cares about you, you know. Like, a lot. More than I think you realize.”
“I know,” Mike said. “I just—I didn't know he—”
“Yeah, well. Now you do.” Daniel nodded toward the hallway. “Bathroom's that way. And for what it's worth? The way you've been looking at him all night? I don't think you're as straight as he thinks you are.”
Mike's face burned. But Daniel was right.
He pushed through the crowd, down the hallway. Just as he approached, the bathroom door opened and Will stepped out, eyes red-rimmed. He froze when he saw Mike.
For a second, they just stared at each other.
Then Will turned and started walking in the opposite direction, toward the back exit.
“Will, wait—”
“I need some air,” Will said without looking back, voice tight.
“Will, please—”
“Mike, just—give me a minute, okay?” Will pushed through the exit door.
Mike quickly followed him outside into the cold. They were in a small alley behind the venue, away from the noise and lights. Will had his arms wrapped around himself, staring at the ground.
“Will—”
“How much did you hear?” Will's voice was flat.
Mike stopped a few feet away. “Enough.”
Will laughed, bitter. “Great. That's—that's just perfect.”
“Will, I need to talk to you—”
“No.” Will finally looked at him, and his eyes were shining with unshed tears. “No, Mike, I really can't do this right now. I can't—I'm sorry I put you in this position, okay? I shouldn't have let you come tonight. I should've just told you the truth from the beginning, but I thought I could handle it and I was wrong, so just—” His voice cracked. “Just go back inside. Please.”
“I'm not leaving.”
“Mike—”
“You think I'm straight,” Mike said.
Will flinched. “You are straight.”
“I thought I was,” Mike said, taking a step closer. “I really did. But I'm not.”
Will shook his head. “Mike, don't—don't do this just because you feel bad for me—”
“That's not what this is.”
“Then what is it?” Will's voice rose, desperate. “Because from where I'm standing, you just found out I'm in love with you and now suddenly you're—what? Questioning your entire sexuality? That's not how this works, Mike!”
“Maybe it is!” Mike ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. “In the photo booth, I wanted to kiss you. When we were dancing, I didn’t want to let go. I think I—Will, I like you.”
Will was staring at him, tears streaming down his face now. “You can't just say that—”
“Why not?”
“Because!” Will's hands were shaking. “Because you didn't even know until tonight, Mike! You can't just decide you like guys because we danced once—”
“It's not because we danced.” Mike stepped closer, urgent now. “Will, you’re the first person I look for in every room. You've always been. I just didn't understand what it meant.”
Will shook his head, backing up until he hit the wall. “No. No, you're just confused—”
“I'm not confused.” Mike closed the distance between them, bracing one hand against the wall beside Will's head. “Will, listen to me. When you told your friends about me, what did you say?”
“What?” Will looked thrown by the question.
“Your friends knew who I was the second we walked in. They knew about my campaigns, about the art show, about—everything. What did you tell them?”
“I—” Will's voice was barely a whisper. “I just talked about you. About my friend.”
“Your friend,” Mike repeated. “But they all thought I was your boyfriend. Why?”
Will closed his eyes. “Because I'm an idiot who can't shut up about you.”
“Because you're in love with me,” Mike said softly.
Will's eyes flew open, panicked. “Mike—”
“And you know what? I think I've been in love with you too. I didn't know what to call it, but it was there.”
“You don't mean that—”
“Yes, I do.” Mike's free hand found Will's, lacing their fingers together. “After El, I didn’t want to date anyone else. I told myself it was because we'd just survived the end of the world, because I was traumatized, because I needed time. And maybe that was part of it. But I think—” He laughed, shaky. “I think it was also because none of them were you.”
Will was staring at him, eyes wide, tears threatening to spill out.
“The painting you gave me. In the van, four years ago,” Mike continued. “You said it was from El, that she commissioned it. But she didn't, did she?”
Will's breath hitched. “Mike—”
“And everything else you said—it wasn't about El at all, was it? That was you. Talking about how you felt.”
“I didn't—I couldn't… You were with her, Mike. I couldn't tell you.”
“I know.” Mike squeezed Will's hand. “But I need you to know that speech? That painting? It meant something to me. I didn't really understand it then, but I think I do now.”
“What did it mean?” Will murmured.
“I wanted it to be true. I wanted to be that person for you.” Mike's voice cracked. “And the way you… the way you believed in me? It made me feel like maybe I already was.”
Will was crying in earnest now. He shook his head. “Mike, you can't just—what if you're wrong? What if this is just… a mistake, or…”
“What if I'm right?” Mike interrupted. “What if I'm standing here telling you the truth? That I want you. That I've wanted you, maybe for longer than I realized. What then?”
“Then—” Will's voice broke. “Then that’s that’s the scariest thing I've ever heard. Because I've wanted this for so long and I’ve spent years trying to get over you, so if you change your mind—”
“I won't.” Mike brought their joined hands up, pressed them against his chest so Will could feel his heart beating like a hammer in his chest. “Feel that? Will, I'm scared too. Hell, I’m terrified. I don’t want things to change, because I don’t want to lose you. But I'm saying this anyway, because if I don't say anything, I might never get another chance, and I think… I think that scares me even more.”
Will looked at him, breathing out softly. “Mike…”
“You said I'm exactly what you want. That I’m perfect.” He shook his head. “God, Will. Sometimes I look at you and it’s like— I don’t know. Like staring directly at the sun. You're not supposed to. But I can’t stop. And—I know I'm late figuring this out, I know I'm an idiot for not realizing sooner, but I'm here now. I'm here and I'm asking…” He swallowed hard. “Can we try this? Please?”
Will was trembling. “Promise me. Promise this isn't just because you feel sorry for me, or because you heard what I said and you feel obligated—”
“I promise.” Mike let go of the wall and cupped Will's face with both hands, brushing away his tears. “I like you, Will Byers. I want to be with you. I want to kiss you. Can I—can I kiss you?”
Will searched his face for a long moment, looking for any sign of doubt, any hint of uncertainty.
He must not have found any, because he nodded. “Yeah. Yes. Please.”
Mike leaned in slowly, giving Will every chance to change his mind, to pull away. But Will met him halfway.
The kiss was soft and desperate all at once. Will's hands fisted in Mike's jacket, pulling him closer, and Mike made a sound low in his throat as he pressed Will back against the wall. Will tasted like salt from his tears and something sweet, maybe from the drink he’d had earlier. Mike never wanted to stop kissing him.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Will let out a shaky laugh. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah,” Mike agreed, breathless. He rested his forehead against Will's. “So… does that mean we're dating? Like, actually dating. Not just pretending.”
Will laughed again, and this time it sounded lighter, more real. “I guess we are. If you’re serious about it.”
“Well… your friends already think I’m your boyfriend, so. Might as well make it official.” Mike shrugged. “Also, I'm keeping those photo booth pictures. Evidence of our first date.”
“This is—wow,” Will said, but he was smiling now, really smiling. “This is crazy. You’re crazy.”
“Yeah, but so are you. Crazy together, remember?” Mike said it teasingly, but Will's expression went soft.
“Yeah,” Will said quietly. “Crazy together.”
Mike kissed him again, slower this time. Will made a soft sound against his mouth, and Mike felt it all the way down to his toes. He deepened the kiss, and Will's hands slid up into Mike's hair, pulling him in.
They kissed until Mike was dizzy with it, until he forgot they were standing in a cold alley behind a building, until nothing existed except Will's mouth on his, Will's hands in his hair. Will, Will, Will.
When they finally broke apart for air, Mike didn't go far. He kissed Will's jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. Will was breathing hard, his eyes closed, and Mike had never seen anything more beautiful.
“Mike,” Will whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I can't believe this is real.”
Mike pulled back just enough to look at him. Will's lips were red and kiss-swollen, his hair messed up from Mike's fingers, and he looked… happy. Actually, genuinely happy.
“It's real,” Mike said, and kissed him again to prove it.
Will melted into him, and Mike thought he could stay here forever, just kissing Will in this alley, but eventually they had to breathe. Eventually they had to come back to reality.
When they pulled apart this time, both breathing hard, Mike rested his forehead against Will's. “Okay. Now we can go back inside.”
Will laughed breathlessly. “You sure? Because I'm kind of okay with staying out here.”
“Tempting,” Mike admitted, stealing one more quick kiss. “But I really do want to dance with my boyfriend. For real this time.”
They walked back inside hand in hand. The music was still playing, couples still swaying on the dance floor. Leah spotted them first and grinned, elbowing Daniel, who gave them a thumbs up.
Mike pulled Will close, and they started dancing again. Will's head rested on his shoulder, and Mike's hand settled at the small of his back, and this time there was no tension, no pretending.
“Hey,” Will said softly.
“Hey.”
“Thank you. For tonight.”
Mike pressed a kiss to the top of Will's head. “Stop thanking me. I’m just doing my duty as your boyfriend.”
Will laughed softly. “Okay, sure. My boyfriend,” he said in a fond tone, and Mike felt like his heart was melting.
They swayed together, and Mike looked around the room—at all the couples, at Will's friends watching them with soft smiles, at the rainbow lights reflecting off the walls.
He didn't feel like an impostor anymore.