Archive of Our Own

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With a grunt, Mike heaved a cracked, plastic laundry basket onto his bed.

When Vecna split the town into pieces, Mike did not imagine he would ever be on cleaning duty. And yet, despite everything, people still needed clean clothes.

He swiped a shirt off the floor and after giving it a dubious sniff made a sour face. Nope. He lobbed it into the basket with its brethren.

Contrary to what he assumed, the apocalypse was not an around-the-clock fire drill. Were people scared? Fighting? Of course. But rather than fighting his way out of the jaws of a Demodog, Mike Wheeler spent most of his time like this: in quiet pockets of time where no one was bleeding or crying.

He sat on the edge of his bed, suddenly dizzy. The box spring groaned beneath him. Mike found himself tired quite often—going to bed spaced out and waking up dazed— like he hadn’t slept at all. It was all the waiting around, Mike decided. Every minute that passed could be another minute closer to some unforeseen disaster. How could he possibly relax? Every static-filled message that came over the walkies made his stomach drop. Nervous glances were thrown around the room every time someone called the landline.

So, yeah. Focusing on the day-to-day trivialities felt a little meaningless next to the threat of Vecna looming. God, looming sucked.

Some small comfort came from knowing he wasn’t the only one walking around like a nervous zombie. Everybody— the Party, his sister, the grown-ups—were all shaken up at any given time. It was weird seeing the adults so jumpy, but Mike felt a bit better knowing he wasn’t the only one getting caught staring into space or not sleeping properly.

Oh, that might be the cause of his dizziness. He’d been talking to Will late into the night on the—

The walkie resting next to his pillow flared to life, startling Mike right off the bed.

“What the— Jesus…” Mike muttered, like if he was casual enough he could trick his heart into not beating so fast. Maybe the message coming through the walkie wouldn’t hold any danger or call to arms.

“I’m at a complete loss.”

Mike stopped. His fingers hovered over the hard plastic.

He would know that voice anywhere.

“Will?” The name came out of his mouth folded with care. He had a habit of affording Will an extra layer of reverence, however unintentional.

“I don’t know what to do.” The words were a bit muffled, extra-fried, like the walkie was being used from behind a thick blanket.

Mike was at a complete loss as well. Who was Will talking to? The dial on the walkie was switched to channel 4—Mike fell asleep without changing it back to the main channel last night. Channel 4 was the new Party channel since the Byers moved back to Hawkins, but Mike and Will were the only ones to use it regularly.

“Have you, I don’t know… thought about telling him?”

That was Jonathan, for sure. Mike leaned in closer, flexing his hands.

Him.

Jonathan said him. Who is him?

Mike swallowed, but his mouth felt full of sand. Was this… Okay to be hearing?

Will didn’t say anything for a long time. If it weren’t for the low hum of static coming through the receiver he would’ve thought that was the end of it.

“Jonathan…” His voice was high and resigned. “You know there’s no way I could do that. There’s no point—he likes girls. Plus, he’s going through a break up. And all this Vecna bullshit…” He sighed heavily, voice crumpling up like a tin can the more he spoke. “The last thing he needs is me burdening him further with my lame crush.”

In a blink Mike snatched up the walkie with trembling hands, shoving the plastic brick’s speaker hard against his ear.

So. El was right. Will did have a crush after all.

On a… A boy.

Will liked boys? Since when?

Mike felt hot in the face. He should turn off the walkie. Now. He should be a good and respectful friend to Will and turn off the damn walkie.

After all, Will’s crush (on a boy!) was decidedly and categorically none of his business.

But isn’t it?

It is, it is, it is.

That back-stabbing thought blew a fuse in Mike’s machine.

A flurry of emotion seized him; stole the air from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. Not like he had a chance.  Something violent and wild clawed its way up from the bottom of his stomach like a zombie bursting from a grave. It ate through his chest, cracking him open. And Mike, for his part, could only stand dumb in the middle of his bedroom. Aggressively nauseous and clammed up with rage.

What happened, he thought, why do I feel this way?

He couldn’t move. The room was unnaturally silent— the only sounds he could hear were the steady drone of the walkie and the pulsing thrum of his heartbeat pounding through the unmistakable wound in his chest.

Mike’s mind went to white. The whole of his messy bedroom fell away as he envisioned Will and Jonathan down in the basement.

Will. Sitting on the edge of the couch, eyes ringed with red. He is speaking to Jonathan in slow, stilted sentences. Restless hands. Sad, shining eyes. He’s trying to keep it together. But he feels like a burden.

Mike gripped the walkie tighter. He wouldn’t turn it off now.

“You are not a burden.” Jonathan was using his big brother voice and it made Mike’s heart leap with joy to hear his own thoughts echoed in him. He nodded along furiously with Jonathan’s words. “Your feelings will never be a burden. I mean that. I’m not just saying that to make you feel better.”

Will didn’t respond, but Mike distinctly heard a sniffle. Jonathan continued,

“I have no clue what you see in him, but he’s lucky to be your lame crush.”

“Thanks.” Will chuckled airily, the sound barely audible through the tiny speaker. “It’s hard liking someone so clueless.”

“I don’t know how you manage.”

“Same way Nancy manages you, I’d guess.”

“Hey!” Jonathan laughed.

“Kidding! Kidding!” Will followed up quickly. Another sober pause settled in.

“No matter what happens, it’ll be okay. You don’t have to say anything to him if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll…” Will interrupted himself to yawn. “I’ll think about it.”

“Not enough sleep?” Jonathan asked.

“Yeah, but it’s fine…” His tone switched. “I think you already know what’s keeping me up. Or maybe ‘who’ is a better word.”

“Jeez, Will, you two literally—”

There was a rustling and the walkie went dead. Mike inhaled sharply.

“Oh no. No no no no no.” Frantic, Mike moved to zip out the door, paused to scoop up his laundry basket, and scuttled his way down the carpeted stairs as fast as his Fruit-of-the-Loom be-socked feet would allow. His legs were wobbly; unstable. Several articles of clothes fell from the poor basket in his haste, but Mike didn’t give them a second thought.

No one, thank goodness, was hanging out on the first floor.

He slid to a stop before the basement. The door was cracked just so—slightly ajar enough to poke an eavesdropping ear through. Mike gulped, willing his breathing to even out so he could listen.

It was faint. More so than what he heard on the walkie. He only caught the barest snippets of conversation. Although knowing the subject matter as he did, Mike couldn’t blame them for wanting to keep their voices low.

“He doesn’t… No, I swear!... him, so…” Will was talking excitedly, his tone going up and down.

“Yeah, yeah… Think… Talk to… Mike wouldn’t… Should go find Nancy.”

Mike. That’s me. I’m Mike. Why are they talking about me and Nancy now? Go back to talking about the crush!

Mike, frozen in place and using all of his faculties to listen, realized too late that Jonathan was leaving the basement. The heavy door swung open and hit him square in the face, sending him and his basket tumbling to the yellowing linoleum with a thud. Mike rubbed his smarting face, looking up at Jonathan with a scowl.

“Um, ow.” Mike waved his arms emphatically, expecting an apology. But Jonathan was already onto him. He narrowed his eyes down at Mike. The lines on his face settled into shadows of suspicion. His gaze flit between Mike and his forgotten basket.

“What were you doing standing in front of the door like that?” Is what Jonathan said, but what he meant was, Why the hell were you listening in on me and my brother?

“Laundry. Obviously.” Mike rattled the forlorn prop basket as if to prove his innocence. He brought it along to use as a cover, but he didn’t think he’d actually go ahead and get caught.

“Uh huh. Yeah.” Jonathan muttered, finally helping Mike to his feet. Despite his grumpy exterior, Jonathan was never mean. After a moment of silence and neither of them moving, Jonathan finally sighed. “Okay, I know you’re on laundry, but just come back later. Will isn’t in the mood for company right now.”

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked a little too hastily. Too concerned; too suddenly. Jonathan looked surprised, but that emotion quickly twisted into something an awful lot like anger. He moved forward, face darkening as he leaned into Mike’s personal space.

“Nothing. You didn’t hear anything?” He said slowly. Not really a question. His voice came out stern but strained. Like he wasn’t used to sounding so serious. They both knew Jonathan wasn’t talking about his comment on Will’s mood.

Mike opened his mouth to speak his case but decided against it and shook his head. He got the distinct impression that to do otherwise would be crossing a line.

Jonathan took a step back, folding his arms across his chest. His face softened in apology.

“Okay. I’m just— I’m just looking out for Will.” Jonathan said, his eyes boring into Mike’s with more intensity than he knew Jonathan could muster. Maybe Nancy was rubbing off on him.

“I know.” Mike’s voice was heavy. The weight put on those simple words surprised even him, but thankfully worked for Jonathan. He ran a hand through the greasy hair falling into his face.

“And, um, sorry for smashing your face with the door.”

Mike exhaled finally. The relief expanded in his lungs. They were both looking out for Will.

“I’ll recover.” He half-laughed. Jonathan half-smirked. The whole exchange felt surreal.

A bout of guilt swooped through the open cavity in his chest and suddenly he couldn’t meet Jonathan’s eyes. The secret they shared was too dangerous to acknowledge. Like a volcano just erupted in front of them and they were both politely declining to acknowledge the smoke and active flowing lava.

Mike gave Jonathan a final nod before they could reach peak awkward levels, retrieved his basket, and left without another word.

❍ ❍ ❍

I’m at a complete loss… The last thing he needs is me burdening him further with my lame crush.

Will’s static-warped confession followed Mike around all day like a dark cloud.

Mike stared up at the ceiling, lying in the dark of his bedroom with a frown etched into his face. His stomach twisted before this newfound, shiny secret.

Crush. Crush. Crush. Will has a crush. He didn’t tell me he had a crush.

He didn’t even tell me he liked guys.

Two important facts should be known about Mike Wheeler. First and foremost, that he was an overthinker, and second, possibly related to the first, he was a person riddled with insecurities.

Does he not trust me? He used to trust me.

Mike was sucker-punched by the memory of their fight last summer.

It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!

He bit his lip, tearing at the dry skin. Boy, he did not think that through. He’d been such a jerk. It was no small wonder why Will didn’t trust him with that secret.

Suddenly he felt like crying. He shifted and curled in on himself. Cold. The thing that ate through him earlier in the day, the animal, had come back and made a home in the hollow of his chest.

“Mike? Are you still awake?” A tell-tale crackle and whisper came through on the walkie. Mike grabbed for it blindly in the dark but hesitated before answering. His thumb grazed the ridges the radio call button. Could he speak to Will without spilling everything he heard today?

Only one way to find out.

“Yeah, I’m up.” He whispered back. Like hell he would ignore a call from Will.

“Good.” Will said. Mike could hear the smile in his voice. He cradled the walkie between the pillow and his face and let his eyes fall shut. Like this, whispering back and forth, Will was in the room with him. Lying next to him in bed. For just half a second, the image of it flashed before him. Mike could see it all too clearly:

Will. Curled beside him, his eyes drooping with sleepiness but fighting to stay awake solely to hear Mike talk about whatever inane thing came to mind. Hushed tones and stifled laughter that only made more laughter bubble up. Mike reaching out for the blanket and finding Will’s arms—bigger than they were last summer. Stronger too. Suddenly, like a lot of the guys around him.

Mike found his reflection looking different these days as well. Minute changes in the shape of muscle, skin stretching over bony hips and shoulders. He didn’t hate what he saw in the mirror, but sometimes it sort of looked like someone else.

But Will? He was different than the other guys. Special.

Sometimes he could swear Will had a glow about him.

Sometimes—God, even thinking of it felt like a violation— he just wanted to reach out and touch him for no reason at all.

Mike’s face flushed in the dark. He looked around his room as if embarrassed to have imagined Will like that while on the line with him. Never once had he thought of El like that.

Stop it! His brain cried out, Don’t compare Will to El!

He ran his hands down his face, feeling stupid. His imagination was a menace sometimes. But this was normal, right? Just innocent curiosity. The health teacher had said something about that, his mind quickly supplied. Teenagers will compare bodies—that’s just growing up.

Puzzled, something about that logic didn’t sit quite right in his brain. It was too black-and-white. Too clean of a reason. He would have gladly chewed it over further, but talking to Will came first.

“I didn’t see you like, at all today.” Will said. His voice was much deeper these days too.

Shut up! Shut up!

“I was on house chores today. Took all day.” Mike said, trying to keep things as monosyllabic as possible until he calmed down. “You?”

“Oh, I didn’t feel well this morning. So I was just hanging out in the basement. Then me and Lucas went on a supply run together—that was pretty fun. And then mom called me to come eat dinner at the cabin, so I went all the way over there. But now I’m back.”

“Sounds much more fun than my day.” Mike smiled, but that first part Will said stuck in his ears, and the animal in his chest stirred. “Why, um, why didn’t you feel well this morning? Are you better now? I mean, obviously you’re a little better if you went out and did all those things. Don’t push yourself too hard.” He rambled. Will waited patiently for him to finish (Although interrupting wasn’t really a choice as long as Mike held his finger on the button).

“Yeah, I’m feeling a little better now. Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing serious.” Will’s tone was light. He was lying—well, not really. But Mike knew the truth, and Will was vastly underselling it.

This was their nightly ritual since Will came home. Unless they were otherwise preoccupied, Mike and Will would spend an hour or more on the walkie every night. Since Jonathan usually snuck out of the basement to sleep in Nancy’s room, they could go on forever without fear of waking anyone up. The topics weren’t anything important… Unless they were. A blissful reprieve from the normal horrors of everyday. Casual conversations about movies, games, California, friends, gossip—whatever—would inevitably turn into reassurances that they were going to make it out of this alive. It all felt very circular, but also necessary. Mike always came out of those talks feeling like less of a zombie. Filled up, almost. Like he’d eaten a good meal.

Sometimes they even talked about their future.

In times of indulgence, they carefully laid out plans for when they were older. Where they wanted to travel someday, what kind of pets they wanted, outlines for a dream comic they would co-author. It almost hurt to talk about these things— their futures weren’t promised. Their friendship wasn’t even promised. Mike knew very well he could lose Will in the blink of an eye whether it was by Vecna’s hand or his own. They just started acting like friends again since the awful fight last summer, after all. So they walked through these talks delicately to ward off the actual future for a little while longer.

“Speaking of this morning actually.” Will piped up. “Lucas said he was getting these weird, broken signals from my walkie on the Party channel. He thought I was in trouble, but I had just been sitting on my walkie like, most of the day.” He laughed, and Mike’s throat clenched. “Did you hear anything weird coming from me today? I’ve really gotta stop falling asleep with this thing.”

Mike took a deep breath. He should keep this one to himself. He told Jonathan he would.

…But how was he going to keep a straight face seeing Will tomorrow? Or the day after that? Will deserved to know.

And maybe more than that, he selfishly wanted to know more about the boy.

Why do I care so much, Mike thought, what’s wrong with me?

Mike took a deep breath to steady himself. He licked his lips and steeled himself.

“Will, I’m not really sure how to say it, so I’ll just spit it out: I heard you and Jonathan talking today.” Mike said. His voice was firm. If he was going to cross a line, he would do so with a purposeful stride. “I heard you. On the walkie. You… Said you like… Someone. And it’s making you upset.”

Will didn’t reply for a long time. Fingers anxiously tapping away at the plastic exterior, Mike waited. The static came through again, eventually. But even when he pressed the outgoing button it took Will an agonizing amount of time to compose himself.

“I’m sorry you heard that.”

“No, don’t be.” He figured Will might apologize. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have listened.” But he did listen, and now their pleasant nightly talk was messed up. Maybe forever.

Will paused again and Mike couldn’t blame him. He would be doing the same in Will’s position. But his heart thudded painfully in the dense moments of silence all the same.

“Were you surprised?” He said. Slowly, carefully. Mike recognized the fear in his voice.

“Sort of. But don’t sweat it. I won’t tell anybody.” Mike rolled over in bed, lying flat on his back. He chewed his lip again. “Do you wanna talk about it?

“Talk?” Will faltered. “I… Yeah, um, okay. Sorry, this is really sudden.”

Surprise wasn’t the right word. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t surprised Will was gay. But everything was clearer in hindsight, wasn’t it? Just like when him and El broke up, this time for good, and suddenly Mike could track all the faults and fissures in their relationship that were invisible to him before.

And with this incoming clarity, Mike thought it just made sense that Will was gay. The most natural course. Like the way water moves downhill. Not something difficult to wrap your head around.

As if to test that thought, he tried to picture Will happily dating a girl and found it impossible. He could never imagine it—and he tried in the past, too. His brain rejected the idea outright. The numbers didn’t add up properly.

The animal in him roused from its sleep. It stretched languidly, pushing against Mike’s ribs without a care.

Unbidden, an image floated up from the inky pool of his mind: Will… Looking up into the blurry face of another boy. Blonde, tan, and muscular. Will tilting his head, love lighting up his eyes and an easy smile on his lips. Wanting a kiss for all the world. He stands up on his tip-toes and kisses the boy indelicately, greedily.

In the theater of his mind Mike was unable to tear his eyes away until the image sputtered and warped like a damaged film reel and went dark.

Mike gasped for air. He patted down his chest with sweaty palms. Someone might as well have come in and knocked the wind out of him. The animal snickered at him, swishing its tail. Imagining Will with that faceless boy hurt him worse than anything.

Imagining Will with that faceless boy hurt you worse than anything. Said the animal, matter-of-factly. Much worse than when you imagined him with girls. That was laughable. That was never happening in a million years. But now you know. And there’s a sense of danger in knowing. The bomb is tick, tick, ticking down to zero. I wonder what will happen when it goes off? I’ll tell you: He’ll be with a boy and the boy is not you. Stings, right? I know. You’re in pain right now because the boy could be you. It should be you.

“It’s not like that.” Mike shook his head. He spoke under his breath to the creature, “It’s not. I don’t like Will. I don’t… I don’t like guys. Will is my friend. I’m just worried about him. He’s struggling. I just got him back. I want to help.” He gave a litany of reasons. The words fell out of his mouth like overripe, rotting fruit falling from a tree.

The animal sat back, unperturbed—it probably knew Mike wasn’t going to let up so easily. In fact, it seemed to know him quite well.

You trust Will. Implicit trust. Unconditional trust. Of course you do. You trust his judgement of others. But what could this crush have that you don’t? The answer leaves you reeling: Nothing. What you have with him is the real deal. It’s alive. It’s tangible. Hard to find and impossible to replicate. Are you really going to give that up without a fight?

“It’s got nothing to do with me.” Mike felt nauseous again. Could something be true and false at the same time?

“Can you just—” Will huffed. “Could you come down here? It’s weird talking about this when I can’t see you.”

Hearing Will’s voice was a balm on his soul, bringing him back to focus and chasing off the animal. For good, maybe. But Mike wasn’t so hopeful.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think I have to—” He inhaled sharply. “I need to see you.”

Mike’s stomach was doing cartwheels.

“Uh, sure! I’ll be right there.” He tried to sound cool, but he ended up sounding more like he had a mouth full of marbles. He didn’t know why he was trying to sound casual. His heart was up in his throat and could surely be heard in his voice.

“Actually… Can I come up to your room? The basement is kinda cold.”

“Of course. Of course, come over here.” Mike said, and wondered how many cold nights Will had endured down in the basement for him to actually ask to come upstairs. He sat up and crossed his arms; thinking. The basement was pretty dark, too. All too easily he could see Will pretending to sleep so Jonathan could sneak up to Nancy’s room. Is that why Will talked to him for so long on the walkie every night? He didn’t want to be alone but didn’t want Jonathan to babysit him?

Mike tasted blood.

Will appeared in the threshold like a vision. Strips of moonlight coming in through the window painted his silhouette with silver light. He stood so still Mike might’ve thought he was a ghost.

“Hey.” Will said. Barely audible. He looked stricken; pale-faced and eyes shining like two glass beads. And beautiful, all things considered.

Is it weird to think something that’s an objective fact? I guess this isn’t objective, but… Mike thought dimly. Whatever.

All at once Mike became flustered and anxious. As if he was woefully unprepared, somehow, to greet Will. As if he should be the more nervous one in this situation.

A blanket was clutched tight around his shoulders—like a cape— pulling Will’s shoulders inward. Will always did have a particular knack for making himself look smaller. Less visible.

Less burdensome, Mike remembered.

“Hi,” Mike recalled how to breathe and picked his jaw up off the floor. He motioned Will over, patting the space beside him on the bed. Smiling gently. Or as gently as he could without looking deranged. Will looked ready to bolt at any minute—and the last thing Mike wanted to do was frighten him.

Will didn’t budge for a moment. Maybe he was weighing whether he wanted to stay or not. He stood like a cutout image, glowing softly against the backdrop of his dark bedroom. Mike watched dust particles float by in the moonlight—the only indication that time was truly passing.

But because Will was the brave person Mike knew him to be, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a click that resounded with some amount of finality. Like it was really happening now.

Will sat before him with a pronounced droop. “You can just say whatever you want and then, I um—" He spoke haltingly; blinking a lot. “I don’t know. If you want, I promise we can just pretend like this never happened. This isn’t how I wanted to tell you at all, so I get it if this is jarring. Maybe we can talk about it another day? God, I don’t know.”

Mike’s head spun. “What? What are you talking about?”

Will lifted his chin and looked up at Mike through wet eyelashes. His lips were pulled into a thin line across his face. He wore a deeply wounded, desperate expression that cut Mike to the core. He’d screwed up already, somehow, and in record time no less.

Mike moved closer, planting a firm hand on Will’s shoulder. He was trembling.

“Will, calm down, nothing’s happened. Everything’s okay.” Mike told him. “Just breathe for now. We’re just talking, that’s all.”

And Will did breathe. Although he didn’t seem too pleased about it. A pronounced frown lay etched on his face. They sat like that for a minute until Will tentatively placed his clammy hand over Mike’s, still resting on his shoulder.

“You’re not fazed at all? If you think it’s gross or something, just tell me now, I can take it.”

Mike's eyebrows went up. “Why, because you’re—” He wasn’t prepared to say the word. His voice went to a low whisper. “Because you…?”

Will let his hand fall wordlessly from Mike’s and gave a solemn nod. Mike frowned, retracting his hand as well but scooting ever closer until their shins touched. He could feel the warmth coming off Will even through the thick flannel pajamas. And he didn’t miss the way Will tensed at the contact and then leaned in. For a fleeting moment Mike wondered if it was okay to be touching him right now under these circumstances.

Do friends normally worry about this kind of thing?

The horrible animal in him seemed satisfied with this—delighted even, that Mike wouldn’t move.

“I don’t think it’s gross at all. Don’t take people calling you that.” He said plainly, pushing himself to stay on task. “I think… You’re— you’re such an incredible person.” Mike didn’t know where he was going with this train of thought, but it felt right and he hadn’t the foggiest idea how to comfort someone in this situation.

“Yeah, right.” Will cracked the tiniest smile.

“I’m not kidding!” Mike mirrored his smile. “You’re wicked talented.”

“Sure.” He sighed.

Mike frowned, not one to back down when he thought he was right. “Hold on.” He said, and clambered to the floor, fumbling around blindly under his bed. Will tilted his head at him.

“Mike?”

“Got it!” His hand hit the rough, thick plastic he knew well and dredged it up past the lost socks and old wrappers. Mike gave a grunt and hefted the overstuffed binder onto the mattress. He sat back and beamed up at Will, who looked more lost than the socks.

“Is that… My old art binder?” Will cracked it open with a tender touch, leafing through the many drawings lovingly tacked together years ago. “These are ancient.” He marveled. Something like sadness slowly wandered back into his expression. Mike pursed his lips. How much longer did he have to watch Will be sad? “Why did you keep these…?”

Mike shrugged. “I know I’m biased, but they mean a lot to me. Good memories. Maybe the best ones. Every time I look at them, I think about what a great artist you are and how you’ll be mega famous for it one day, but I’ll be the only one in the whole world who has these.” He waggled his fingers over a colored-pencil sketch of the big willow tree by the river past the old Byers house next to a picture of a snarling direwolf.

“And then you’ll sell them for millions?” Will raised an eyebrow.

“What? No!” Mike exclaimed, then remembered it was the middle of the night. They waited a second in the quiet. No one appeared in Mike’s door to tell them to shut up, so the coast was clear. Mike started again, this time leaning in to whisper, “I would never sell your art. Not even for millions.”

“Mike…” Will gulped, wringing the blanket. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Oh, right, right.” Mike closed the binder again with a papery smack. The room now smelled vaguely like crayons. “This was all to say, I guess, that you’re like the best person I know. And I’m with you no matter what.”

“No matter what…” He breathed. “That’s a big promise. What if I do something bad?”

“Bad how? It would have to be something really irredeemable.”

“What if I rob a bank?”

“I’d obviously be your accomplice.”

Will gave a watery laugh and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “What if I murder somebody?”

“C’mon. Give me something hard.”

Will sniffed. “What if I’m bitten by a radioactive spider and have to go fight crime?

Mike folded his arms on top of the bed and rested his head. “Now you’re a superhero? You’re a regular D20, so multi-faceted.”

Will laughed, a little bewildered. “So, I’m a D20 now?”

“I’ll be a D20 too, if that helps.” He blushed. “I wasn’t exactly stocked up on metaphors for this, give me a break.”

“You’re crazy.” Will said, a bit of color finally coming back to his face.

“Crazy together, remember?”

Will stilled. He tucked his chin down thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I remember.”

Will seemed to go away for a moment. He did that pretty often—receding inside himself. When other people were thinking, they still seemed present. Alert. But in these times Mike felt like he wasn’t there at all. When he was deep inside his own head, it sometimes reminded Mike of the fall Will was possessed by the Mind Flayer.

But they weren’t in those times anymore. Thank goodness. Now, when Will went in, he always resurfaced.

“Jonathan told me… Nobody is all the way normal. And anybody who tries will just end up unhappy or boring.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Mike nodded, but his body went heavy, like he’d told a lie. “Congratulations on your unnormalcy.”

I do want to be normal.

You do want to be normal. You climbed so far to get here, or to where you think here is, and for what? You hurt yourself to stand atop a mound of crushed feelings and smile, thinking no one can see the mountain is bleeding. Everyone can see you. The grass doesn’t grow here. You can’t hide forever.

“That’s not even a word.” Will gave him a playful kick.

Mike broke from the trance and smoothly recovered, pretending to be murdered momentarily before climbing back up on the bed. He smothered a laugh and wiggled back under the warm covers, but the animal’s foreboding words were a ghost in the back of his mind.

“Thank you. I feel better. Not that I thought you would hate me or anything, just…” Will trailed off.

“It’s scary?” Mike supplied. Will nodded. They sat in peaceful, companionable silence for a moment. “Can I ask a question?” He waited for Will’s nod. “How did you know?”

“Know…? Will hesitated.

“That you like guys.”

“Oh.”

Mike nodded, face flushed. He fixed his gaze elsewhere in the room, scanning his desk, his walls— more dirty clothes? He thought he got them all— anything to not look Will in the eye just then.

“Well. Jeez, this is weird to say out loud.” He took a big breath, flexing his hands out in front of him. “I guess I’ve always known a little bit. It never occurred to me that anything was wrong. I didn’t feel wrong. It was everyone else that felt I was wrong. And when you’re younger and think girls are gross, nobody cares. But if you stay that way apparently it’s a problem.” He put an offended hand to his chest. “As if it’s my fault for being consistent.”

Mike snorted. “No, no they can’t fault you for that.”

“But more than that, I guess, I started having dreams.” A rosy flush crept up his cheeks. “And noticing things about guys that I thought everybody noticed. Stuff that just catches your eye. Shoulders, arms, other stuff… You get it. But only with other guys! I was convinced it was like… Artist brain making me looks at guys.” He exhaled a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, I tried looking for those things in girls, too. I don’t know if you know this, but girls have shoulders as well.”

“News to me.”

“Shush, let me talk.” He nudged Mike with his elbow. “I tried looking at girls. Zilch. Nothing happened.” He shook his head. “Absolutely nothing. It was always so weird hearing you guys talk about girls. I thought you were all participating in some joke I wasn’t in on.”

“Sorry.”

“You didn’t know.” The mood dropped again, silence filtering back in. “It’s been hard. I’m sure it’ll continue to be hard. But you know... If given the chance, I wouldn’t change it.”

“You wouldn’t?” Mike locked eyes with Will. He didn’t appreciate how vulnerable he sounded, or that Will definitely clocked it.

“No way.” He whispered with a subtle shake of his head. “It feels too precious.”

He left it at that. Mike studied his face and found only the honest truth. It occurred to him that he wished Will would keep talking about it. He hung on every word like Will’s experiences were his own. Like Will was pulling the words out of Mike’s own throat on a rope. It burned him to not know more, but he was more scared of relating in a way that went past sympathy to pry further.

Will fiddled with the frayed hem of the blanket which had fallen from his shoulder. Not so restless anymore. He seemed oddly at peace.

Will was wearing a plain, white cotton t-shirt under the blanket. No wonder he was cold. Mike could see the fine hairs on his forearms standing up. His hands busied themselves bunching up the blanket fabric between his fingers and smoothing it out again. Mike wondered for a moment if it was possible to envy a blanket.

Stop it! You’re being weird!

Perhaps to hide the look on his face, Mike proceeded to take off his sweater, leaving him in just a navy-blue Henley.

“Here,” He stuffed it in Will’s lap and swept his messy bangs out of his eyes. “You look like you’re gonna freeze.” Will blinked in surprise, looking between Mike and the sweater. He seemed a bit torn—maybe even confused— but accepted the sweater without resistance.

“Thanks.”

It was Mike’s old, deep-green Myrtle Beach hoodie from a family trip forever ago. He couldn’t remember much of it very well. Seagulls were there, maybe.

The sleeves were pilling and the white lettering was cracked, but the fabric was still soft. And much too big. It hung on Mike’s lanky frame like he was swimming in it, making it excellent to sleep in—but on Will it looked decent, if a bit-oversized. Good, even. His hair was tousled and shiny where it caught the moonlight. Mike felt that urge again to reach out and touch him and mess up his hair further. Just rake his fingers through—

Knock it off!

“It’s warm.” He said gently. Will looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Mike sucked in a breath, bracing himself for whatever Will had to tell him next.

“God, Mike, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like this. I really messed up.” Will bunched up his hands into fists inside the sweater sleeves. His jaw sat clenched, his shoulders tight around his ears.

“It’s fine, Will, I promise.” Mike reassured him. His voice was soft. He didn’t want Will to cry again.

Somewhere in the world, he supposed, was a boy that had stolen Will’s heart and likely didn’t even know it and therefore couldn’t appreciate it. Whoever he is, Mike concluded, he must be a real idiot. He couldn’t stop thinking about this mystery guy. He racked his brain for what small details Will had said about him. He likes girls. He was going through a breakup. Was there anything else?

Did he even like Will? Did he know Will liked boys?

What did Will like about him? How long had they known each other? Mike knew nothing. And the scope of how little he knew about this huge part of Will made him feel small and stupid.

Will looked like he had more to say, but only silence followed, so Mike spoke up again only to his own detriment.

“Do you love him?”

Will’s face fell. Mike realized that was the wrong thing to ask.

“Are you… Teasing me right now?” He sounded horribly disappointed. His lip curled in disgust. Mike sat up straighter in bed like someone lit a fire under him.

“Why the hell would I be teasing you?” Mike replied. What just happened? Was asking about the crush some unspoken no-go area? None of his friends had secret crushes before—he was in uncharted waters.

“You know how I feel. You heard me yourself.” Was his clipped reply. Will untangled himself from the blankets and stood up. His face was twisted. A long shadow of regret cast itself harshly against him. “I get you don’t feel the same way, but you don’t need to rub it in.”

“Wait, no, Will! I’m sorry.” He leapt forward and tugged on the Myrtle Beach sweater. Will tried to shake him off. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It’s none of my business. I just want to know more about your crush.”

It’s none of my business, thought Mike. How many times do I have to say it before it’s true? The animal was laughing at him again, gleefully sharpening its claws on the chambers of Mike’s heart.

Will stilled, not trying to pull away now.

“My… Crush?” His voice wavered.

“Yeah.” Now that Will wasn’t fighting him, he could tuck his hand inside Will’s sweater sleeve and grab his wrist. Mike tugged Will back toward him. “Do I—Do I know him? I mean, don’t feel pressured to tell me if you don’t want to! I’m just curious. Sorry, that’s stupid—and probably the least important thing right now.”

“Wait, I thought you…” Will blanked, his expression receding briefly again and coming back with snap— horror smeared across his face. “Didn’t you hear me and Jonathan talking?”

“I heard you. I— I never caught who it was. Just that it was a…” He gulped. “A guy making you miserable.”

His eyes went round in some revelation Mike couldn’t hope to keep up with.

Absolutely beaten, Will flopped backward onto the bed, bouncing against the mattress. Arms akimbo. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, but Mike could tell he wasn’t seeing anything.

“Oh my God. I think you just took ten years off my life.” He dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “I thought we were having a very different conversation just now. But I probably should’ve guessed something like this would happen. I should really know better.” He lamented. Mike, on useless standby, waited speechlessly.

After a pause, Will removed his hands to look up at Mike. “You’re not joking around with me right now, right? You seriously have no clue?”

“Seriously, no clue.” Mike echoed, putting his hands up in admission. “Will you tell me already?”

“Oh,” Will said easily, looking back up at the ceiling. “Oh, no way.”

“What?” Mike whined.

“Absolutely not.” Will giggled, and said, “God, I can’t tell if this is good luck or bad luck.” But Mike assumed that wasn’t really for him. He poked Will in the stomach and crossed his arms.

“I hate this.” He grumbled. “Tell me what he looks like, at the very least.”

Will hummed to himself in thought. A bemused smile graced his lips. All remaining vestiges of fear had left him. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking up at Mike with mischief in his eye. “I’d say he’s tall, dark, and handsome.” He inhaled, and the smile grew. “But I’m biased.”

Mike took all of this into account with dire attention to detail. A small part of him celebrated that Will’s type was nothing like the hunky guy in his imagination. Then, an idea sprang to mind.

“It’s not Lucas, right?” He gasped.

“Lucas?” Will sputtered incredulously and planted his face in the blanket, wheezing.

“Okay. Not Lucas.” Mike scratched his chin. Lucas was handsome enough. And likely the only person they both knew that sort of fit Will’s description. He was out of candidates.

“Although, Lucas is kinda handsome.” Will sighed, coming up for air with red cheeks.

“Right?” Mike said, earning a raised eyebrow from Will. Hastily he continued, “Is it someone in California?” That was in line with what El wrote.

“Detective Mike, I don’t think you’re going to solve this one.”

“I can so.” Mike scoffed.

“If you haven’t got it already I’m not sure you ever will.” He stretched across the bedspread and yawned. “Wow, that wiped me out.”

“No kidding.” Mike yawned in solidarity, deciding to drop the subject for tonight. Will had gone though enough. Plus, if the heaviness in his body was any indication, Mike was finished as well. “Bedtime?”

“Ugh, alright.” Will got up with a groan, wrapping his blanket around him again and shuffling toward the door. Some protective instinct snapped to life and Mike sprang to his feet.

“Well, hang on, why don’t you just stay here tonight?” Mike gave a grand gesture to his sloppily-made queen size bed. And then, as if he knew Will would try to decline, “It’s too cold for you down there.” A statement, but to Mike’s ears it sounded like a quiet little request that said Please stay, you and I both know you hate the cold.

But because it was Will, he didn’t need to say it in so many words.

Will’s eyes went shiny again. His mouth worked and puzzled around the words for a while before he settled on a small smile and shuffled back over.

Mike beamed like he won a prize and failed to cover it up. He slid into bed and held the covers open for Will. Once his head hit the pillow, Mike felt his eyelids drooping traitorously. He wanted to stay up longer, talk to Will longer, look at Will’s sleepy face up close longer.

They laid there face-to-face like a set of parentheses. Will’s cold feet brushed against his legs every so often, making him jump. But he got used to it. Mike was more concerned with how warm Will was. His fingers twitched. He was so close now.

Do not touch him! That’s a direct order!

The thought made him crumple. Mike swallowed. Maybe staying awake wasn’t such a good idea.

How did this happen? Hearing Will on the walkie already felt years behind them. And now Will was here in his bed, fringe falling over his eyes, his head on Mike’s pillow. He’d been so brave coming up to Mike and letting everything out. This talk must have been a long time coming. Will really was incredible.

Mike’s heartbeat quickened suddenly. He didn’t want this moment to be over yet.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Nothing felt appropriate. He could thank him for trusting him. Or maybe apologize in advance for anything weird he might say later.

Instead, he placed his hand carefully over Will’s. He held his breath, waiting for Will’s reaction.

“…Is this okay?” Mike whispered.

They’d always been comfortable around each other, but this seemed distinctly different for some reason Mike couldn’t quite place. They weren’t kids anymore, for one thing. Holding hands had more weight to it now. His best friend just came out to him and apparently has someone on his mind so maybe he wouldn’t want to be touched by Mike— not even mentioning that their relationship was just getting back on track after six months apart…

“Can’t hear you. Sleeping.” Will whispered back, smothering a smile.

Mike smiled back. There were probably a hundred reasons he shouldn’t be holding Will’s hand. But he couldn’t deny that it felt like the right thing to do.

“It’s okay.” Will squeezed his hand and Mike immediately went wide awake. “But my crush is gonna be so totally jealous.” He said lightheartedly, making Mike’s insides wind up.

Jealous?

The word was a red-hot stoker, prodding Mike to move.

His body itched to wrap up Will in his arms. To not let him out of his sight again; not let him go back to California or wherever this crush lived. The wanting was the worst part— some kind of natural magnetism that drew him toward Will. Made him want to keep Will all to himself.

These impulses scared him. Try as he might, he knew at his very center that they weren’t normal. Mike thought they would go away when he started dating El. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

They were so easy to overlook back then; so small. His eyes catching on Will’s lips, offering to share comic books so they could hunker down in some quiet corner of the library together, bringing extra snacks in his lunchbox to make sure Will ate enough, hiding under the bleachers together during gym class, daydreaming about contrived circumstances in which he could be with Will at the school dance—the list went on and on and on. Will stayed in the back of his mind like a compass pointing ever north, drawing him back to the beginning.

Because it all came back to Will, didn’t it?

And Mike couldn’t even say that he didn’t see it coming. He knew he was losing his grip and didn’t do a thing about it. Whatever this was went far past friendship or favoritism. And getting a girlfriend did not work. Check that one off the list.

He wasn’t sure what happened with El, to be fair. It just kind of happened. Mike always hated when the older kids and grown-ups said that. It just kind of happened. He thought that was a lame excuse. But now he understood a little better how certain events tend to fold and warp your emotions. How time appears to speed up and suddenly things have changed. How you might say something one day and not mean it the next, but your big mouth already said it and now you have a responsibility to it.

“I think we went too fast.” El had told him during their breakup, not one to mince words. “We don’t…” She struggled to find the word. Her fingers came together and interlocked like puzzle pieces. “Fit. Not like this.”

“I know.” He’d said. There was nothing left to do but agree.

Do Will and I fit? He asked himself. Although he hardly had to think on it long. The answer came to him crystal clear: Yeah. Of course we do.

He peeked down at their joined hands and warmth saturated his chest. Definitely.

Like the other shoe dropping, guilt swooped in to undercut Mike’s good mood. He wanted to smack himself. The gnawing need to compare Will to El wouldn’t leave him alone. And now with these weird new emotions making him doubt himself… Something needed to be done. Maybe he should talk to Will about it…? How was he supposed to broach that topic?

In the end he squeezed Will’s hand and hoped in the silence that Will understood what it meant. One of them had to.

❍ ❍ ❍

Mike woke up the next morning to someone banging on his door. When his eyes snapped open they were looking directly into Will’s equally bewildered eyes. Will gasped. They had squished closer together in their sleep— Will’s ankle was hooked around his calf and Mike’s arm was tossed over Will’s waist. He couldn’t move, but his treacherous brain was already a mile ahead of him.

Mike couldn’t help but notice this was so much more different in the daytime. The dreamy air that intoxicated him enough last night to hold Will’s hand had evaporated in the morning mist. And now here they were—in a position much more damning than hand-holding.

“Hi.” Will mumbled quickly.

“Hi.” That broke the spell. They began untangling themselves when the door flung open.

“Mike!” Nancy’s shrill and impatient voice stomped in. But she halted herself immediately upon spotting Will. Her expression changed from annoyance to intrigue, brows rising. “Will? What’re you doing up here?”

“Nothing!” Mike called across the room, voice cracking. “Everything is regular—” He turned to Will, who looked caught between laughter and mortification.

Nancy was back to annoyed. “You’re so weird. I asked Will.” She gestured to him.

“Nightmare. I had a nightmare last night.” Will said, even going so far as to look abashed, much to Mike’s amazement.

“Ohh.” Nancy tittered sympathetically. “I understand. I’ll tell Jonathan to stay with you tonight.”

Will’s expression faltered for a fraction of a second before settling into a grateful, sleepy smile. “Thanks, Nancy.”

“Uh,” Mike sputtered suddenly. This was becoming too much. “What do you want?”

She rolled her eyes, already halfway through the door again. “Hopper is doing firearm safety training at the cabin. We leave in twenty minutes.”

“Mandatory?” He heaved a sigh.

“Mandatory!” She said, and turned on her heel and left. Mike could hear her call out from down the hall, “Jonathan! I found him!”

Mike blanched. Damn Nancy. Jonathan wasn’t going to like this. He looked to Will, who seemed amused, and a little red in the face if Mike wasn’t mistaken.

“Well, I don’t see how that could’ve gone any better.” He deflated. Will chuckled, busy fixing his hair in the mirror. Mike could see his smile in the reflection glowing like the sun.

“Yeah, telling your sister ‘everything is regular’ was definitely a highlight.”

“She’s so weird…” Mike grumbled. Will caught his eye in the mirror and turned to face him.

“Thanks for letting me stay here. I haven’t slept that well since I got back to Hawkins.”

“Me too.” Mike realized his foggy brain had cleared up tremendously. “Why don’t you just sleep up here?” Mike found the words coming out before his brain could catch up. “If, if that’s the case, I mean. I don’t mind—and there’s enough room.” Obviously there was enough room, he thought, but if they were going to keep waking up snuggled together like hibernating bears it hardly mattered.

“Really?” The promise of a smile blossomed on Will’s lips and Mike figured it wasn’t fair for Will to look so charming right out of bed when he himself looked like a tornado victim— hair puffed up in ways that gave a middle-finger to gravity. Will nodded enthusiastically. “Alright, cool.”

“Cool, cool.”

“Cool.”

The conversation grinded to a halt. Agreeing to share a bed indefinitely with your gay best friend? That you’re experiencing confusing feelings for? So cool. Masochism is always in vogue.

“Um, I need to get ready.” Will jabbed a thumb toward the door. “But I’ll see you downstairs?”

“For sure.” Mike smiled, and it felt easy. Not fake or forced or begrudging. The pale morning sunlight swathed Will’s face, turning his eyes into bright pools of light. He mirrored the gentle elation on Mike’s face and suddenly stepped forward—closing the short distance between them and wrapping Mike in a hug.

Will gave excellent hugs.

He buried his head in Mike’s shoulder. Mike got over his initial surprise and tucked Will close against his chest like he wanted to last night—like he couldn’t stand having any free air between them. He felt the rapid thump of Will’s heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings and breathed deeply. Will smelled like shampoo, with a hint of the musky sandalwood cologne he’d brought from California. But mostly he just smelled like his sweater, which brought Mike more satisfaction than he was ever willing to admit.

Mike was grateful to be alone just then, with Will, behind the privacy of a closed door. He could stand that way forever. He took his hand up and down Will’s back in a comforting motion that made Will squeeze him tighter. In the quiet, he could hear the banging of frypans against the gas range as his mom prepared breakfast.

Like the traitor it was, Mike’s stomach growled at possibly the worst time. Will’s breathy chuckle hit his neck and Mike considered starving to death before moving. Luckily for him, Will disengaged first.

“I’ll see you soon.” Mike said, voice lower than intended. Something flashed in Will’s eye he couldn’t discern. He nodded. As he stepped back his hand slipped down the outside of Mike’s arm in a way that seemed almost deliberate. Mike felt his nerve-endings light up and tingle.

Will left. And then he was alone for real.

“Shit.” Mike muttered under his breath. His heart was in his throat again. He trailed his fingernails down his arm, but it wasn’t the same.

❍ ❍ ❍

Will stood on the other side of Mike’s door, grinning ear to ear in the dark corridor. He put his head in his hands. His toes wiggled happily into the carpet. That happened. That really happened. Will felt dizzy. He tugged at the green hoodie— veritable proof that he spent the night with Mike. Oh, he could just scream.

Heat rose to his cheeks as he remembered. He came out to Mike. God, he really did it. And he reacted well! Extremely well. He knew he would. He’d wanted to tell him for so long. Not like that—not at all like that. But it could’ve gone worse.

Okay. He would count that as a win. But there was another thing…

Will assumed Mike was being a diligent friend and letting him down gently last night. But now? Now he wasn’t sure. And that was enough to give him hope. Mike had a flair for the dramatic, sure, but Will just couldn’t imagine any of his other friends reacting how Mike did last night. Mike was so caring with him, so gentle and thoughtful. It was another reason why he loved him.

Will stopped short on the stairwell. His smile waned. Hadn’t he already ripped off the Band-aid? Didn’t he vow to stop doing this?

Things had changed, he told himself. Circumstances were different than what they were when he decided to give up. Mike wasn’t dating El anymore, despite his best efforts. Him and Mike’s relationship was being repaired after being apart so long. Mike reacted positively to him coming out and said the sappiest things he’d ever heard. And finally, he fell asleep in Mike’s bed— holding his hand no less.

Was he supposed to just—what? Not read into the things that happened last night?

The grin came back to his face.

It felt different this time. He’d been hurt many times over the years getting his hopes up, but his gut told him something else had opened up in Mike. He saw it last night. It revealed itself in the tone of his voice, the weight of his gaze. A small door that no one had ever entered—not even Mike.

That settled it. Now there was no way he could wait for the apocalypse to pass before he said it.

Satisfied, he made a mental not to go too crazy before he talked to El. Even if he did have hope, he still had a sibling code to follow: you have to ask if it’s okay to date the ex. He didn’t know how she would react, but he was almost certain she wouldn’t kill him.

With something exciting to look forward to, Will bucked up summarily. He pulled his insane grin into a pleasant smile and floated on a cloud back to the basement.

❍ ❍ ❍

Firearm safety went about as well as one might imagine.

Hopper herded them all to a large clearing adjacent to the big hill near the giant, smoldering crack in the earth. Where they set up the targets, they couldn’t see the ugly red gash. Only, the horizon was unnaturally dark and every now and then the wind would carry specks of Upside Down ash to remind them that safety was never guaranteed.

Hopper, probably sensing that the atmosphere was not ideal, cranked up the radio and let his truck blast them with music so it felt less like mandatory training and more like a family barbeque. Will’s mom even brought sandwiches.

Their party was split into two groups: those who could load, fire, and reload a gun— and everybody else.

Everybody else turned out to be most of them.

To no one’s surprise Nancy was the most enthusiastic of those who could use a gun.

“Odd little lady…” Hopper could be heard muttering, and, “Wheelers…” He eyed her warily for a while before realizing he had his hands full babysitting the newbies.

Will and Jonathan busied themselves being miserable— slowly and mechanically loading and unloading rifles and lifelessly explaining the process to their friends.

Mike shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. His gaze was fixed on Will, some ten feet away, demonstrating the proper stance to fire. Head down, left foot forward, braced shoulder, breathe out.

His fringe fell over his brow. He stilled, his eyes dim and cold; far away from the current situation. Different from the Will he was used to. Strong and capable. And with a kind of rugged handsomeness.

Bang! The sharp sound tore through the air and echoed back when it hit the hill, scaring away a handful of thrushes.

Mike squinted. The paper target was tacked to a haybale some thirty feet away. Will hit it just off center, a little to the right inside of the ring surrounding the bullseye. Mike’s chest swelled with pride. Will was incredible.

He abruptly caught himself from falling forward. He’d been leaning so far headfirst he nearly fell on his face.

“Not bad, not bad!” Hopper whistled. Others similarly voiced their praise, making Will smile sheepishly. Jonathan patted him on the shoulder and gave him a knowing look. His mom lovingly ruffled his hair.

“Whoo! Will!” El clapped. She was all the way on the other side of their makeshift firing range, glued to Max’s side and physically as far away from him as she could be. Mike frowned. He would try to not take it personally. Just a coincidence. And even if it wasn’t, well… He couldn’t blame her for wanting space.

Will handed off the gun to Nancy and came over to Mike. His face was pale. He looked halfway-dead.

“Hey.” Mike said. “Nice shooting. I didn’t know you knew about guns.”

Will shrugged.

“Are you okay?” Mike leaned into Will’s space to keep his voice low.

Will licked his lips, looking down into the dirt he was toeing with his sneakers.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Guns just… I’m not a fan.”

“Dad stuff?”

“Yeah.” He tipped his chin up, finally meeting Mike’s eye. “Video game guns are fine though.”

“Oh yeah?” Mike smiled. “Speaking of, we should hit the arcade when this is all over.”

“I’d like that.” He said quietly, affectionately bumping into Mike.

Much to Mike’s delight, he was still wearing Mike’s green hoodie under an oversized, brown corduroy jacket.

When Mike saw girls wearing their boyfriends’ letterman jackets in the halls, he dismissed it as being stupid at best and nauseating at worst. But seeing Will walking around in his clothes… Reminded him of those girls. He felt like he was bragging, almost. Like he was flaunting that Will belonged to him.

Not… Not like that. Will doesn’t belong to anybody. Much less me.

They watched El levitate a handful of bullets around her small frame in a glinting, menacing circle. She thrusted her hand forward and the bullets followed, whizzing past her and down to the target with such speed the entire haybale toppled over.

“’Atta girl!” Hopper clapped and patted her on the back. She beamed over her shoulder at him.

Hopper sobered quickly, looking for his next victim. He strolled down the line of onlookers—watching them all like a hawk. He sent off Jonathan to help Dustin with the emptying the chamber step. Dustin wasn’t a fan of how the shell casing popped out of the gun. But it wasn’t long before Hopper descended on Mike and Will.

“Wheeler.” He jutted his chin at him. “Try the pistol.”

Mike scoffed, incredulous. “Do I look like I know how to use a pistol?”

Hopper clicked his tongue. “You’re gonna want to know when a Demogorgan is trying to bite your head off.” He produced a shiny silver gun and molded Mike’s hand around the handle.

Mike scowled. Nothing was more irritating than Hopper being right.

“Do not—look at me, kid—do not point it at anyone and keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Great. Now what?”

“Will here can show you, can’t you bud?”

Will gave him a sideways, good-natured smile. Their relationship was, in a word, fragile. A lot of side-stepping each other. The step-father-step-son dynamic was new territory to both of them, but Mike could tell underneath all the awkwardness that they were trying.

“Sure thing.”

Mike stood before the line of targets feeling like an idiot. No amount of posturing would make him look like less of a dork with wobbly arms. The gun was heavy in his hands—heavier than he thought it would be—with a metallic, greasy smell coming off it.

“You’re too loose. Tense up a little.” Will chewed his lip, scanning Mike up and down. Apparently running the math on what to fix first. “Here, just…” He didn’t finish, choosing instead to stand directly behind Mike and plant his hands on his upper arms. Mike jumped at the contact. He tried to look at Will from over his shoulder, but Will wasn’t having it.

“No, don’t look at me, just look at what you’re pointing at.” He moved his hands down to Mike’s forearms, raising them to eye level. “These things have a stronger kickback than you’d think, so hold on tight.”

Mike wasn’t listening. Why was the gun so heavy? For the life of him he couldn’t concentrate. The heat from Will’s chest burned into his back—more than enough to fry his brain beyond help.

“You’re starting to sound like Hopper.” His throat was tight.

“Sorry, I can ease up.”

“No, no. That’s not a—a bad thing. Per se.”

“Per se?” Will chuckled in his ear.

“I mean…” Oh God, he didn’t know what he meant. “Hopper is one thing, but I don’t mind when it’s you giving the orders.”

“Oh.” Will paused. “That’s good to know.”

What the hell was that? Cool it! Be cool!

Mike wished for everything that he could see Will’s face at that moment. Or that he wasn’t frozen in place holding a gun so he could go jump in the glowing crater.

“Okay. Pull down the hammer…” Will’s chin was fully resting on Mike’s shoulder. He guided Mike’s thumb down until a distinct, metallic click was heard.

Mike’s heart thumped like someone was stomping around the room of his chest with heavy boots.

“Alright, let’s aim… You can close one eye if you want. Don’t lock your elbows.” Will’s breath was on his ear. Goosebumps raced up his arms. Mike thought he might die before ever actually shooting the gun. “Okay! Stay like that.” Will removed his hands and with them all of his warmth. Mike shuddered slightly as an April breeze blew through the clearing.

“You know,” Will studied him again. Mike could see him out of the corner of his eye. “Actually, never mind.”

“What?” Mike laughed lightly. “I’m going cross-eyed over here.”

“Oh, I was just gonna say you uh, you look kind of cool right now. Like James Bond.” He said, and before Mike could even come up with a sarcastic retort, Will yelled: “Fire!”

Mike squeezed the trigger and the next thing he knew he was face-up on the grass. Seeing stars.

His friend’s faces crowded his vision, blocking out the sun. They seemed concerned. That did not bode well.

The gun was nowhere to be seen. Hands were on him, overlapping voices asked what happened and is he okay and other worrisome questions.

“Aghhh—” He answered intelligently. His hand flew to his throbbing forehead. He found Will’s frowning face among the huddled bunch.

“I told you to hold on tight!” Will chastised him.

“Kickback…” He groaned, and then said in a brilliant moment of neural firing, “Just like how James Bond does it.”

Will processed this, snorted, and then burst into laughter. His shoulders shook with it. Mike laughed too. Stupid, but much needed laughter. Max joined in, and then Lucas and Dustin and even El until all of the Party were laughing at Mike getting whacked in the head trying to fire a gun.

The many hands of his allies helped him to stand precariously upright. Will’s mom inspected the bump on his head and prescribed him an icepack, trying to hide how funny she found this now that the immediate shock had passed. She covered her smile with her hand like Will sometimes did.

Nancy didn’t find it as funny.

“You better not have a concussion.” She hissed.

“Why yes, Nancy, I am okay. Thank you for asking.”

Nancy pinched the bridge of her nose. “You cannot have a gun. Just stay behind me or Hop.” She narrowed her eyes on him. “Or Will?”

Mike blushed. “Sure. Whatever. Gotta go, bye.”

At noon they broke for lunch. Will’s mom made bologna and egg salad sandwiches and his own mom sent them over with a cooler full of pink lemonade and bunch of pears she’d been trying to get them to eat all week before they went soft. Aside from the horrible crackling pit on the other side of the hill, it was a pleasant picnic that left everyone in high spirits. Like they were really sticking it to Vecna by having a picnic right outside his house.

They weren’t going to be afraid of him forever.

Mike let his gaze wander over the faces of his friends, all contented for the first time in a long time. Lucas peeled the square of cheese off his sandwich and gave it to Max. El floated a lemonade refill over to Dustin, who gave her a long-distance cheers. She giggled at him. Mike inhaled deeply, taking in the springtime grass and the sound of birds calling in the trees nearby. He tucked into his egg salad. For once, everything felt like it was going to be alright.

Will sat to his right, peeling the stems of dandelions to look like jellyfish. Completely enthralled with the activity. There was green underneath his fingernails.

With the sun finally out and shining Will had removed his jacket and hiked up the sleeves on the green hoodie. Mike swallowed, recalling how different he looked in his room last night. It reminded him how much it killed him to not know the identity of the boy. How much it still killed him.

He must have felt Mike’s eyes on him because Will looked up, regarding Mike with a tilted head and soft expression. The edges of his mouth quirked in a secretive little smile. Mike thought he looked like a daydream. Wordlessly, Will handed him the dandelion. Mike leaned in superfluously to receive it. Their fingers brushed together for what felt like too long and not long enough. The contact was charged enough to light up a room.

Oh, he wanted to kiss him.

He wanted to—huh?

❍ ❍ ❍

Hopper called it by one o’clock and everyone was given their chores for the rest of the day. The majority of them were being sent to downtown Hawkins to help a team of Red Cross volunteers move around relief supplies.

Will found himself sliding into the familiar passenger side seat of Jonathan’s beat-up Ford LTD. His brother scrambled in after him, a serious look on his face.

“Before you say anything, I just wanna know,” Jonathan leaned over the center console and pointed a hesitant finger at Will. “Did you finally tell Mike?”

“Wh? What? No.” Will stammered.

“Oh. Nancy said she found you together this morning and I just assumed...” Jonathan took a deep breath. “Sorry, that was really sudden. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. It’s your privacy.” His eyes darted about to see if anyone was coming. Will paused to gather himself, staring into his hands resting in his lap.

With only minor tripping over his words, Will recounted for Jonathan the events of the previous night.

Jonathan listened to the story in complete, unaffected silence, which Will appreciated. He could count on Jonathan to never judge him. When Will was finished, he smiled. “So, he reacted well.”

“Really well.” Will picked at the strings of his hoodie and blushed. “Really, really well.”

Jonathan met his eye. “Are you going to tell him the full truth?”

“I want to.” He fidgeted. “It’s something I have to do. But I need to ask El for permission first. God, that sounds so presumptuous of me. As if I don’t know he’s going to reject me.” He gave a bitter laugh. Jonathan frowned at him.

“How can you be so sure he’ll reject you?”

Will rolled his eyes. The hope that surged through him this morning seemed pathetic now. “He’s straight, Jonathan.”

“If you say so.” He shrugged. “I’m just going to say: I’ve been around you and Mike for a long time. I know what I’ve seen. And trust me, I was definitely not the only one shocked that Mike started dating a girl.” He looked a little embarrassed then. “Everybody could see you two flirting today.”

Will paled. “Everybody?”

Jonathan’s eyes went big. He backtracked, realizing his error. “Uh, well maybe not everybody.” He scrubbed a hand through his shaggy hair. “Sorry. You just… You seemed happy. The both of you. Like something changed between you guys.” He shrugged, turning the keys in the ignition.

Will considered this in silence. He sank into the seat cushion.

Ever since he came out to him, Jonathan struggled with regards to how to talk to Will about relationships, and Will could empathize—he also wasn’t sure how to talk about it. All the preloaded baggage that came with being gay aside, Will already had a hard time expressing his emotions. They were both quiet types like that, he figured. That’s why they could pour themselves into art: a mode of expression much easier than speaking.

But he knew Jonathan was only doing it out of love, like always, so he wouldn’t fault him for saying something odd. If he thought about it, he could see a lot of himself in Jonathan. Or at least, a lot of what he wanted to be. Will wondered if Jonathan saw him that way too.

Would Mike ever be able to see him clearly?

“Jonathan.” Will finally piped up, finding his brother’s eyes a little sheepishly. “Do you really think he was flirting back?”

Jonathan smiled broadly with relief. Just then, Mike yanked open the back passenger side door and threw himself inside the vehicle. The brothers shut up immediately, sharing a look of solidarity before speeding off back into Hawkins.

❍ ❍ ❍

Meanwhile, Mike was going through emergency crisis counseling with the horrible, angry animal he carried with him. He bumped along the new detour routes in the back of Jonathan’s car. A deep scowl settled on his face as he watched the natural greenery taper into the city.

So, he wanted to kiss Will.

So, you wanted to kiss Will. The urge leapt out so quickly you almost did it. Like a reflex. Like your cue to go onstage. This is big. This is all you’re going to think about for a while. And why shouldn’t you? Why don’t you do it already? Because he doesn’t belong to you? Is that pesky guilt concerning the boy weighing you down? The boy who is not you? Oh well then. Denial is a perfectly fine bed to lie in.

Mike was really starting to get tired of this condescending thing.

It doesn’t mean anything. I didn’t actually try anything. So it’s fine.

But you wanted to. Want isn’t innocent, you know. It gets into all the cracks in your brain and rusts. Take responsibility. It’s not going to stop. You do realize that. I know you do. Do you find it easier to pretend? To reinvent yourself as someone who wants for nothing at all? Pity that person doesn’t exist. You’re human. As long as you’re alive you will want. How much longer can you take this?

He couldn’t. Will had a mystery crush somewhere in the world. And didn’t Will deserve an uncomplicated first love? No, he was as good as taken as far as Mike was concerned.

Mike shook his head slightly, his hair swishing along the collar of his jacket. With a sigh he let his head fall against the car window. He absently thumbed his lips. As much as it pained him, the animal sometimes had a point.

Had Will felt like this around the boy he liked? Did he want to kiss him so suddenly? Had he already kissed him?

Mike gripped the door interior. If Will told him something like that Mike wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay calm. In fact, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do so.

“We’re here.” Jonathan announced and parked outside the familiar Hawkins public library.

Mike dimly recognized the many white vans with the Red Cross logo. The library doors were propped open by cinder blocks. A steady stream of men and women came in and out, all looking very busy but friendly.

He stumbled his long legs out of the vehicle and slammed the door behind him. The good mood he’d been enjoying earlier was eclipsed by a wholly self-inflected bad mood.

“Be nice to my car.” Jonathan voiced his displeasure from over the roof of the car. He jerked his head toward the library. “Go see who needs help.”

Great. Jonathan’s leadership style was one of few words.

Mike tried to straighten up. He cracked his knuckles, stretched his neck. Maybe volunteer work would take his mind off Will.

His plan succeeded in some part. For the better part of an hour Mike mindlessly sorted through food shelf donations. Why so many people donated expired food was beyond him, but whatever.

High schoolers from some of the surrounding towns were also there, begrudgingly dragged along to help with relief efforts by their parents. Or so they said, but they didn’t slack off as far as Mike could tell. They mostly complained—a language which Mike was fluent in. In fact, it helped Mike bond with these strangers. They nodded their heads to his complaints and laughed at his jokes and answered his questions.

How bizarre, Mike thought, and then remembered that he hadn’t grown up with these kids. They didn’t know Mike was some loser nerd that had been picked on and bullied his whole life and should therefore be avoided. It was a freeing sensation—like walking outside in the winter for fresh air.

In a rare moment of clarity, Mike considered how different his life would be if he ever left Hawkins.

The thought left him giddy. He could just leave. It never occurred to him to just leave. Maybe he could move to the city. Indianapolis—or even somewhere outside the state. Mike strained his mind to imagine living in California like Will did, but in the big big cities. He wondered if Will would ever want to move back out there. Far away from everything and everyone. They could move to San Francisco and live in one of those white stucco houses with the cacti and desert flowers. They might go to the beach at low tide and crouch in the sand for glimpses of sea creatures in the rock pools.

Mike blinked. Damn, he couldn’t even go more than an hour without conjuring up elaborate fantasies about himself and Will, could he?

He stood up with a groan. His knees cracked audibly. One of the food shelf girls told him to go take a lap around the building for his poor joints. Mike agreed, and made it around only one corner of the building before his brain collapsed in on itself.

Will was leaning up against the bare brick wall, mostly obscured by the white van parked beside him. Hidden, almost. The closer he got, the more his heart pounded like it was telling him to turn around. His feet didn’t get the message. His sneakers dragged against the asphalt as if possessed.

As he drew closer he saw it and instantly wished he hadn’t.

Will was propped up against the wall with a box of bandages resting casually on his hip. To his direct right, in the shade of the van, was another boy. He had dark brown, effortlessly stylish hair, a deep farmer’s tan evident from the rolled-up shirt sleeves, and the same type of slender muscle he’d noticed on Lucas when he began playing basketball.

The boy leaned against the wall with Will so close their arms were nearly touching—and yet he leaned in towards Will’s ear with every sentence as if sharing a secret. And maybe he was. Mike’s fists curled at his sides. He didn’t know how to proceed, but he did recognize the white-hot anger snapping him into action.

Will politely nodded along with whatever the boy was saying—whatever it was, Mike couldn’t hear them. And then it happened. In slow-motion, like the film reel was snagged, but this time it wasn’t happening in Mike’s imagination. The boy patted Will’s elbow and leaned in close to say something; a wolfish grin stretched across his white teeth. Will laughed. He actually laughed. His hand flew up to his mouth to swallow up the sound, nearly losing his grip on the cardboard box.

Mike felt goosebumps prickle up his arms, except his entire body was on fire.

The dark animal—never gone for long— sank its claws into his muscles and howled. It cackled and thrashed around the pit of his stomach. The sound rattled his teeth like windowpanes during a thunderstorm.

“Will!” He exclaimed. Mike rounded the van and stood before the two. He planted his fists on his hips like his mom did when she was angry, much to his despair. “What—” His eyes darted between the boy and Will. “What are you doing?” Mike was well aware his tone was coming off confrontational and he didn’t care. The way their ears reddened told him the tone was warranted.

“Oh, we uh…” Will’s throat bobbed as he gulped. “We were unloading boxes and got distracted. Just for a few minutes, I swear.” He replaced the bandages in the truck bed and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Mike, this is Steven.”

“Steven.” Mike sneered. He knew he was being unkind. Will shot him a look like he’d gone off script. That’s not your line, his raised eyebrows said. But Mike was beyond the point of staying within his prewritten cues.

“Um, yeah… He usually volunteers with Red Cross in the city, so he was really excited to help out over here.”

“Only after my dad bribed me.” The boy laughed. Will smiled and Mike felt the distinct urge to turn around and just start walking in any direction.

“As much as I’m glad this is exciting for you, some of us live here and actually want to repair our home.” He turned his gaze back on Will. “C’mon, we’ve got work to do.”

“Mike.” Will ventured, cautiously warning him. He held Mike’s gaze intensely.

“Just,” Mike took a breath with his whole body. He stretched out an imploring hand. “Let’s go, please.”

Something shifted in Will’s face. His eyebrows turned up, no doubt from recognizing how pathetic Mike’s plea sounded. Conflicted, his eyes finally turned away to somewhere between them on the pavement.

“I’ll help you finish this later.” Will said to the boy. He didn’t sound all-together there. The air was suffocating.

They went around to the other end of the library, ironically continuing the easy route Mike was meant to go before he exploded. The back of the library had an old gazebo and well-tended rose bushes. They weren’t blooming in April, but Mike knew they would come in July. When the air became sticky and days blurred together in a hazy slush. He also knew Will would bike over here for a few of those days to practice painting those roses and come back with a wicked sunburn like he had for years and years in a row. It struck Mike as bittersweet to recall these twee facts about Will while he was fuming at him.

They paced uneasily around the gazebo, flinging up chips of white paint. Mike didn’t know what to say. Mentally he was still watching the boy behind the van making Will laugh. His body was a wound up coil. Luckily, Will saved him the pressure of being the first to speak.

“What the hell was that?” Will spat. “You were so rude to him!”

“You shouldn’t have been with him in the first place.”

“Is it so wrong for me to talk to a new person?”

“You were not talking.”

Will was taken aback. “Please enlighten me, Mike, what were we doing?”

“Don’t be like that, you knew what was happening.” Mike said. He couldn’t believe him. In his mind, Will broke some understanding between them. Or, that’s what it felt like. He ran a hand through his hair that came back sweaty. “He was obviously flirting with you.”

Stupid, stupid. He just had to say it out loud. Mike imagined Will would really lay into him now. But he took a step back, crumpling a little.

“Maybe. I don’t know. He just started talking to me and it—it was nice, okay? It’s nice to have that kind of attention.” He looked a little lost for a moment before continuing, “What do you care? And don’t say you just had the relief effort’s best interests in mind.”

Mike opened his mouth and promptly closed it. Sometimes Will could see right through him and into his intentions like he was made of cellophane.

“I don’t. I don’t care.” He replied weakly.

“Really? Because it looks like you care a lot. You’re being weird.” He took a seat on the railing, leaning heavily against one of the pillars. “Tell me what’s actually going on. You can’t just go nuclear on every guy that talks to me.”

“I just… I don’t know.” Mike struggled to find the words. “I just didn’t like it.” And while Mike wasn’t exactly sure about what he was saying, once it was out it felt like the truth.

Nearby birds chirped, ostensibly mocking them. Will’s eyes were big. His mouth worked in frustration. Then, like the clouds parting to let in the sun, a look of revelation passed over Will. “Oh my God.” He said. “Oh my God. You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Mike’s whole body locked up. The dark animal curled around the nape of his neck. He couldn’t breathe.

“Jealous?” He sputtered, voice rising. “I’m—Will, I’m not gay!”

Will startled. Jaw clenching, Mike wished he could take it back. His eyes darted around the garden, concerned someone could overhear them.

“No one said you were.” He said slowly and took in a shaky breath. Will put a hand to his forehead, effectively covering his eyes. Mike sprang forward— adamant he wouldn’t let Will cry right now.

“Fuck, Will, no, I’m sorry.” He said, but Will brushed him off.

“Forget it. Why would you be? I’m such an idiot.” Will tried to remove himself from his perch but Mike gripped either side of the railing he was sitting on, more or less pinning Will in place. “Mike, let me go.”

“Not while you’re mad at me.”

“Well, I am.” He frowned. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you. One minute you act like you’re going to kill a guy for— for flirting with me and you act so… Sweet when we’re alone… And yet you can still say that?” His voice cracked. He tucked his chin down, face red. “What else am I supposed to think? If this is all in my head, Mike—if you have no idea what I’m talking about—just say that. I can’t do this forever. ”

Mike’s mouth fell open. Of course he knew what Will was talking about— but he didn’t think Will had noticed his bizarre behavior. Hadn’t even considered it. He’d been way too in his head. Obviously Will was going to have a reaction. God, Mike thought, it’s like I don’t have a brain when it comes to him!

Just then, a terrible vision appeared before him in which he screwed up this conversation, like failing a skill check. What if he lost Will for good this time? He could see the signs written all over his face: Will was patient, but everyone had their limit. He’d watch Will’s face darken— his back growing smaller as he retreated from the gazebo. Their relationship cut to pieces. His big mouth was going to ruin everything again if he wasn’t careful. Fear gripped him by the throat.

Fear gripped you by the throat. He has your number now. He’s practically begging, Mike. This is the point of no return. And you’re totally unprepared.

The animal paced around his guts excitedly.

But so what? You’re allowed to be scared right now. You think Will isn’t scared? You can sense a future teeming with regret if you keep hiding. He can sense it too. So it’s now or never. But here’s the good news: It’s Will. You trust Will with your life. Do you trust him with your heart? That’s all he wants to know.

The air in Mike’s throat stuck as if becoming solid. He didn’t even trust himself with his heart. But he did trust Will. Through everything. Everything he did, a vein of Will ran through.

He was free-falling the moment he made his decision.

“You’re right. I am jealous.” Mike finally said.

Will looked up at him in utter disbelief.

“But not of that douchebag Steven.” Will looked more confused, prodding Mike to continue. The words were heavy on his tongue. “I’m jealous of the boy. The one you have a crush on. I—” He swallowed, tipping past the point of not return. “I want to be the boy you like.”

Mike searched Will’s blank face for a reaction, trying to express all of the love and sincerity he couldn’t verbalize. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. For the life of him, he couldn’t tell what was going on in Will’s head.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” Will breathed. He sat up a little straighter, putting himself inches away from Mike’s face. “Mike, you are the boy.”

“I’m—” Mike pointed emphatically at himself. “I’m the boy?”

“There was never anyone else.” Will smiled up at him, a rosy glow surrounding him that stole the very breath from his lungs.

“What?” Mike fumbled. There was no way. “But I—wait, is that why you were so freaked out last night?” He gaped. “Because it was me you were talking about?”

Will nodded, wholly enamored.

“Holy shit… Why didn’t you say something?”

Will tentatively reached up to cup Mike’s face in his hands. “I guess I was just relieved you only knew one of my secrets. I told you, that wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

“You were planning on telling me?” Mike’s voice turned soft. “When?”

“After we save the world again.” Will replied casually. Mike blinked— what he heard on the walkie came back with full force. Fickle hindsight rushed him. The pieces all fell into place with annoying effortlessness: it could’ve only been him Will was talking about. And, coincidentally, it could’ve only been Mike who wouldn’t recognize that until it was gently holding him by the face.

Mike smiled, moving closer to stand between Will’s legs. He gazed into Will’s eyes and considered his next words very, very carefully.

“This is unreal.” He teased. “You have a crush on me!”

“Hey, you were worked up into a jealous rage over yourself. You have no right.” Will laughed and wound his arms around Mike’s shoulders. “Could you kiss me now?”

Unreal, Mike thought. He wasted no time eagerly surging forward to capture Will’s lips.

In fact, his surge was a little too eager. And he didn’t have very long to enjoy it. With nothing for Will to lean back on, he teetered unsteadily off the edge of the railing and slid. They broke the kiss and locked eyes for a fraction of a second, but it was too late, Mike’s momentum sent the both of them over the railing and down two feet into one of the rose bushes. Mike might’ve yelled—he couldn’t recall. But as he landed on top of Will their foreheads smacked into each other and the two yowled in pain. Mike and Will doubled over, rubbing their foreheads.

“Ow, what the hell…” Mike’s brain throbbed.

“I asked for a kiss, not a body slam…” Will groaned. “Are you okay?” He gingerly pushed back Mike’s bangs, inspecting the growing red blotch with the same careful eye his mom had during his gun safety incident.

Mike blushed and sucked in his bottom lip. “Mhm.” He nodded, plucking a leaf out of Will’s hair. “You?”

“Oh, I’m having a blast. But the bush is getting uncomfortable so could you uh, get off me?”

“Right, right, yeah.” Mike scrambled to standing, helping Will up and brushing the dirt off his back. Will had a grin plastered across his face.

“I can’t believe that happened.” Will remarked, his eyes following the line from the gazebo railing to the squashed rose bush. He turned to Mike. “You have got to stop getting hit on the head.”

❍ ❍ ❍

Despite falling off a gazebo several feet into a bush and getting hit on the head, Will thought his first kiss went pretty well. He was giddy all day long. Even through dinner, where his mother asked why he had a bump on his forehead. El and Jonathan both eyed him suspiciously, but Will decided to talk to El first.

After dinner, they sat criss-cross on El’s floor. Books and papers and plans were scattered around, but Will found a spot next to her easy enough. She had a colorful string tied in a circle.

“Do you know how to play cat cradle?” She asked, struggling a little with the loops.

“Cat’s cradle? Sure.” Will showed her on his own hands, then made her mimic it. “Then you just pinch these together… And go under… Like that. Ta-da!” He had the second formation on his hands. El was delighted. She concentrated hard to replicate the pinching and such Will displayed.

“Did something happen good today?” El asked casually, contrasting with the mask of serious effort on her face. Will faltered for a moment. “You looked super happy. I asked Jonathan, and he thinks so too.” With some difficulty, she got the second formation around her fingers. “I did it! Look!”

“You did it.” Will smiled fondly, but hesitated to answer El’s question. “And actually, that’s what I came in to talk about.”

El raised an eyebrow at him and then settled into a smirk that reminded him of Max. “Knew it.”

Will took a deep breath. “And you’re allowed to be mad when I tell you, okay?”

“Um, okay?”

He deftly wound the string back to his fingers, if only so he didn’t have to look El in the eye. “Is it okay if I ask out Mike?” He tried to speak clearly, but he never thought he’d get the chance to say these words, and they got all wrapped around his tongue.

“Ask out? Like being boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yeah, um, just without the girlfriend part. I want to date Mike.”

El was silent for long enough that Will chanced a look upward, but to his surprise, she was looking very sternly at the cat’s cradle stretched around Will’s hands.

“El?”

“I don’t know how to grab them from this location.” She mumbled. Will’s heart thumped steadily in his chest as he helped her. She smiled when she got it and finally caught his eye.

“Why are you asking me about being Mike’s boyfriend?”

“Well, I need your permission. That’s the rule.”

“What rule? Like a law?” Her eyes widened. Hopper had told her a thing or two about laws.

“No, no, not a law.” He waved his hands. “It’s more like… A personal rule you follow. Not because you have to, but because you care about the other person. And since you dated Mike, if you don’t want me dating him… Well, I won’t do it until you’re comfortable. Because I respect your opinion on it.”

“Ah, I think I understand.” El nodded. “In case I have bad feelings for Mike, right?”

“Yeah or—or any feelings, really.” He rubbed the back of his neck, nervous.

El tangled up the string before letting it slip from her grasp.

“Do you know how Mike and me broke up?” She asked. Will shook his head. “I didn’t dump him this time. It was… Oh, what was the word he said? Myu-chu-ul. We both wanted to stop.”

“Mutual?” Will’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes. I was angry. And then Mike finally explained his feelings. I’m still a little bit angry, but now I understand him better.” She studied Will’s face for a moment, her mouth working around her next words. “I didn’t know boys could have boyfriends. And he didn’t say it, but I think Mike wanted a boyfriend. Not a girlfriend.” She curled in on herself, pulling her knees to her chest.

“Oh, El, I’m sure you were a great girlfriend. Don’t take it personally.” Will put his arm around her and pulled over. She leaned on him easily. Will wondered if this was a mistake—the last thing he wanted was for El to hold a grudge against him because she was too kind to tell him no.

“I know. Max said that too.” She hummed in thought. “You’re the same as Mike, aren’t you?” She smiled, but her expression was sad. Will recoiled internally at the idea of other people knowing him or Mike were gay—just on instinct. But if it was the Party… He would worry about it later.

“I guess I am.” Will swallowed back sudden tears. He could feel them coming because he saw them reflected in El’s own glittering eyes.

“So, if you want to date Mike, you can have per-mish-un.” She said the word syllable by syllable. “But… One question.”

El’s big, ancient eyes met his.

“Do you love him?”

Will exhaled. He smiled as though he couldn’t help it. “I love him so much, El.”

“Your face is red.” El smiled a playful smile. She sucked in a breath and stretched her arms above her head. “I hope you have a better time than I did.”

“You mean it?”

“I mean it.”

“You’re the best sister I’ve ever had.” Will said, eliciting a giggle from El.

“I’m the only sister you’ve ever had.” She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “But thank you. I fit here with this family. With you.”

“You do.”

El laced the colorful string through her fingers again to play cat’s cradle.

“Just like how you fit with him.”

“You think so?” Will carefully plucked the strings from El, forming a new pattern between his own fingers.

“Mhm. I always thought so. Now I know why. Honestly… It made me jealous.” She said. Will thought that word might give him hives. El pursed her lips after successfully getting the cat’s cradle back in her own hands. “Has he tried to kiss you yet?”

“El—” He whined, hiding his face in his hands. El was sent into a fit of rather contagious giggles. Will laughed with her. His chest felt light.

He couldn’t wait to see him again.

Will greeted the cool night air with glee as he left the cabin. He approached Jonathan’s car, whose headlights illuminated the woods and grass and tiny frogs that jumped around. When he finally climbed in the car, Will knew he was buzzing, and Jonathan saw it immediately.

His brother gave him a look that said so are you going to tell me? And Jonathan didn’t even need to ask.

“It happened! Jonathan, he kissed me!” Will hollered, louder than he would ever be on a normal day.

“What?!” Jonathan exclaimed, immediately on his level.

“And El is okay with it!” He threw his hands up and banged them on the roof of the vehicle, beaming. His cheeks hurt from how hard he was smiling.

“God, Will, that’s great!” Jonathan pumped his fists in the air in solidarity, equally as excited. He smiled broadly and clapped Will on the shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”

Will had never felt this good before. Free and powerful. On top of the world. He was so happy he thought he might start crying, so he kept yelling instead.

And if anyone happened to be walking through the woods at that time, they would spot two young men cheering at the top of their lungs in a parked car.

❍ ❍ ❍

Mike made peace with the little animal who no longer lived in his chest cavity. When he parted from Will for the evening, he also said goodbye to the animal, who purred and hummed beneath his touch—finally satisfied. It scampered off somewhere unseen. Mike’s chest felt full once more. No more ripping or tearing or gnawing. He thought perhaps the animal might be back someday. And that somehow, he was better equipped to handle it when that day should come.

Mike paced around his bedroom with a smile glued to his face, waiting for Will to come home from dinner with his family. He’d showered, brushed his teeth, and gargled mouthwash in anticipation. He checked his watch again from its spot on his bedside table. 10:35. Will was running late.

Mike stopped in his tracks and was momentarily wracked with panic. What if Will changed his mind? What if he was stalling for time while trying to figure out how to back out?

Squinting at himself in the mirror, he let his gaze fall over his damp hair, blotchy red cheeks, and old sweatpants. For once, he felt a little silly for overthinking. If Will still liked him after his tremendous fuck-up at the library, he didn’t need to be worried.

Will finally appeared at Mike’s door and was immediately enveloped in a hug.

“I missed you.” Mike clung to him.

“I was only gone for a few hours.” Will chuckled.

“Still.”

“…I missed you, too.” Will melted into him, dropping heavily against Mike’s frame.

They snuggled under the covers, but neither were even close to sleep. Their nightly talks would resume this way. No longer through cold and distant radio waves floors apart, but face-to-face. Warm and close.

“Hey, Will?” Mike started. Their legs were tangled together casually. Mike’s hand fluttered near Will’s waist, drawing circles, a scandalous few inches underneath Will’s Myrtle Beach sweater. And it was indeed Will’s now—he’d claimed it for himself.

“What? That tickles.”

“You said last night… That you would still like guys if you had the choice.” His hand stilled. “How did you figure that out?”

“I’ll tell you if you promise never to yell ‘I’m not gay’ at me again.”

Mike stuffed his face in the pillow with an embarrassed groan. “I can’t believe I did that. That was the worst. I’m not doing it again, promise.”

“Okay, okay,” Will whispered. He snuggled in closer and they bowed their heads together secretively. “I’ll tell you. But fair warning, it’s so mushy you might throw up.”

“I’ll brace myself.”

Will took a moment to prepare himself. He carefully smoothed a curl behind Mike’s ear. “The way you make me feel; how can I explain…? It’s a lightness.” He made a gesture with his hands like fireworks exploding. “It keeps me floating on top of all the garbage in life. I feel stronger for it. Even with all the shit people say.” Will worried his lip. “This world will crush you if you let it. Some people hide to avoid getting hurt, but because I’m with you… I don’t have to hide. When I look at you, I can see myself.”

Mike’s breath hitched.

“If I didn’t have you…Could I have that with a girl? Of course I couldn’t. The symmetry would be all wrong. That would be like wearing mismatched socks forever. That would be like dying.” He looked embarrassed suddenly. “So yeah, there’s no way I would choose to live differently. Does that make sense? Mike? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Mike watched Will with a doe-eyed, spacey expression.

How was it that someone as ineffably kind as Will loved him so much?

Of all the strange miracles in the world, this one was enough to make Mike believe in fate. Something this perfect was surely engineered. A happiness suited just for them. Was that dramatic to think? Absolutely. But Mike couldn’t help himself—he let himself get swept up in the lightness, as Will put it.

Wordlessly, Mike sat up and leaned on an elbow, peering down at the boy before him—the boy he would go to hell and back for. Will rolled to face him properly and Mike’s heart swooped. He had stars in his eyes—with parted lips and roses blooming in his cheeks—wanting a kiss for all the world.

Mike could get used to seeing Will like this.

He slowly closed the miniscule distance between them and pressed his lips to Will’s. Gentle, unhurried. Will’s hands were in his hair, welcoming him, letting him know he was wanted. A tear tracked down Mike’s face, surprising them both. Will wiped it away and held his cheek, giving it a peck that felt like the sealing of a pact.

Mike barked out a laugh. The relief hit his body all at once and sent him into shoulder-shaking giggles. A huge weight was suddenly taken off his chest, making him light enough to be walking on the moon. Will laughed with him. Mike could feel a heart beating, but he couldn’t be sure who it belonged to. He spread his hand across Will’s chest as he laughed, taking in the joyous vibrations like he meant to soak them up. Happiness looked good on Will.

They fell asleep that night curled around each other so tight not even Vecna himself could pull them apart, with matching bitten-red lips they would laugh about tomorrow, too.

❍ ❍ ❍