Work Text:
"Hey."
Will's head whips up at the soft-spoken word. The party is making the short trek from Murray's truck, parked up near the Upside Down's copy of the Squawk, to the adjoining radio tower. Tonight is the night that they end everything. End the man that has been torturing Will, in every sense of the word, for five years. If all goes well. Will had been so wrapped up in his swirling thoughts that he hadn't noticed Mike making his way towards him until his friend was only a couple of feet away.
Will clears his throat. He has cried enough recently for him to not trust his voice to come out steady.
"Hey, yourself." He replies with a small smile, glancing at the taller boy. Will almost regrets this action as he is met with Mike's unreadable brown eyes boring intensely into him already. Huh. Will takes in the slight furrow of the other boy's brow and quells the impulse to smooth it out with his thumb. Or his lips. Mike's gaze shoots to the floor almost guiltily, breaking their strangely weighty eye contact. Will watches Mike's jaw work. The two have been best friends for long enough for Will to be aware that Mike is gearing up to say something. He almost watches the cogs in his friend's head turn. Will can wait. Mike will open up when he is ready.
Will can't help the anxiety that builds when a minute passes, then two, and Mike has yet to speak again. A thought strikes him. Will has just revealed his deepest, darkest secret to a room full of people. Well, second deepest secret. Maybe Mike did see Will differently now. What if he lied earlier, and Will was about to lose him? What if Mike had seen through Will's speech, figured out his number one secret: that he was Will's secret crush? And now Mike wasn't saying anything because he thought he was a freak, and Mike didn't want to talk to him ever again, and Will has screwed everything up forever—
"So, uh..." the other boy attempted, knocking Will from his reverie. Will braved a glance at him. Mike was hesitating. Again. Enough for Will to privately raise an eyebrow. Will was not going to push Mike, but he figured some gentle encouragement wouldn't hurt. Inhaling deeply through his nose and pushing aside his worries, Will inched towards Mike, dwindling the little distance between them. In return, Mike's eyes meet his, and Will is offered a tentative smile.
Mike was obviously freaking out at least a little. And Will considers himself a good friend, a best friend. So, according to most frames of logic, it wouldn't be weird if he bumped his elbow into Mike's like the other boy had done to him just a few days before on a sun-soaked field. Before Will can overthink this exchange any more than he already has, he completes the action. Muscles loosen that he didn't even realise were tensed when the other boy's smile settles into something more genuine.
Along with a small, warm glow in Will's stomach comes the unbidden recollection of Robin's words from the hospital. A bump of the elbow, a shared look... Will shakes his head, as if that could clear the thoughts. Mike was his Tammy. His best friend. Who knew he was gay and didn't run away screaming. That's it. No signals to be found. And Will knew that in reality, Mike probably doesn't have any sort of problem with him. Hell, Mike probably hasn't even thought twice about Will coming out. Straight people didn't think about sexuality nearly as much as he did. There was no reason for him to think that Mike Wheeler, his straight best friend, was that invested in Will's lack of attraction to girls.
A little voice spoke up from the back of his head. Not the sinister growl of Vecna, but the personal narrator, one that he cannot escape, dedicated to dredging up his deepest desires. Because you don't think he's straight. Don't want to think he's straight. Will silenced this voice. What Will wants and reality are two very different things.
Will shakes his head, refocusing on the situation at hand. He notes Mike's pursed lips and eyebrows that are settled into an almost habitual furrow. Hoping he hasn't been so spaced out that the conversation has fizzled out, Will offers a simple "Yeah?" The prompt seems to stir Mike into action and earns him a sloping smile.
"Thank you."
Will looks Mike over, eyebrows raised, expecting some sort of elaboration. When this isn't offered, Will scrunches his nose at the other boy.
"For what?"
"For..." Mike seems to consider how to phrase the remainder of his sentence. Will was already confused, but now he's bordering on plain lost. "For telling us... what you told us earlier."
Will blinks. A surprised "Oh" leaves his mouth involuntarily. His eyes flick over to Mike, who looks... nervous? Sure enough, when Will glances at his friend's hands, they are worrying the too-long sleeves of his camo-print jacket.
While Will was considering how to give an actual response, the other boy spoke again. "I just... that was so brave. You are so brave." Will's mouth drops open a little at how softly the words are spoken. How... reverently. He only now notices that the boys had stopped progressing forward. In their immobility, Will studies Mike's face, noting the same earnestness that was present the other day when he claimed Will was a real-life sorcerer. And if his heart starts to beat a little faster, that's no one's business but his.
Apparently Mike is determined to send Will into complete cardiac arrest, because he grasps Will's hand without a modicum of warning. And if Will emits a tiny, shocked squeak that he hopes to God Mike didn't hear? Again, no one's business.
Mentally shaking himself for what seems like the millionth time in a matter of minutes, Will properly slots his fingers through Mike's larger ones, giving them a tentative squeeze. His "Thanks, Mike" comes out whispered, to his embarrassment, but seems to be received well, based on Mike's reciprocating squeeze.
Robin's loud laugh from up ahead bursts the bubble that Will often finds himself in nowadays when he is alone with Mike, reminding Will of their imminent mission. Given how Mike untangles the pair's fingers, Will assumes he receives this reminder too. As appropriate as that move probably is, Will cannot help but immediately miss the warmth of Mike. He has to remind himself to halt that line of thinking. Mike is just a silly crush. He has to stop those fantasies.
Was Mike ever really just a crush, though? Will sighs deeply. Turns out not all of his problems would be solved by coming out, no matter how liberating that may have been.
The two boys walk in tandem, and Will senses a small undercurrent of tension underneath the pair's practised silence. A glance at Mike confirms that, like before, he is mulling over a thought. His knitted brows are just visible under the small tendrils of hair curling from underneath a beanie. The sporadic glow provided by the Upside Down's cardinal storm paints Mike in an unfairly picturesque light. Will rips his eyes away before he can do something stupid like gaze upon Mike's lips and imagine how good they would feel against his.
"Who is Tammy?"
Will's head whips back towards Mike. He can feel a violent blush painting his cheeks, and he's sure his eyes must be just about bursting out of his head in a gross caricature of shock.
"W-what?" Will manages to stutter.
"You said you had a crush on someone, but they were your 'Tammy'." Will can almost hear the air quotes around the name. Will knows Mike, and for some reason, this seems like something Mike has been thinking about over and over.
"Oh! She's – it's just a..." Will trails off, finding himself unable to provide any sort of explanation. As much as he hates lying to Mike, he can't exactly just come out (hah) and give him the elaboration he deserves. For one, the Tammy situation is Robin's story, and though Will is sure she wouldn't mind Mike knowing that she is like Will, he doesn't want to take that choice away from her. But, most pressingly right now, Mike is Tammy Thompson! AKA the person Will is desperately in love with, but who Will can only ever yearn for from afar. "An analogy." Will finishes lamely.
"Okay..." Mike responds, drawing out the vowel sounds in the tone of someone who knows one is full of bullshit. Will remains silent, manifesting with every fibre of his being that Mike will not press further. He doesn't think he could resist any sort of further interrogation without having some sort of a breakdown. God knows he's had enough of those for a lifetime.
Alas, Will should have known Michael Wheeler wouldn't just leave well enough alone. Will can see very clearly the resemblance between Mike and his journalist sister. "So, who is your crush?" He asks with an air of innocence. Will looks at him out of the corner of his eye. He can't see anything in the other boy's face that suggests that he knows, but that doesn't quell the anxious churning in his stomach.
Will gives his best attempt at a light-hearted laugh. "What is this, twenty questions?" He raises an eyebrow at his friend, tilting his head inquisitively.
"No, I just—" Mike throws his head back, squinting towards the sky as if whatever answer he was looking for would materialise in the spores surrounding them. "I was just wondering." The seriousness of Mike's tone gives Will pause, and a quick glance at his unreadable expression causes Will's confusion to deepen.
Mike releases a deep breath, his shoulders drooping. "I don't know. I just feel so... so, like, devastated that you held all that by yourself for so long. That you thought that we could..." Mike pauses to clear his throat and blinks hard a few times. "That we would see you differently. But that's not to say that there was anything wrong with not telling us! Like, it's your secret, but just the fact that you would have felt so alone." Mike pauses, inhaling a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Mike." Will interrupts, sensing further ramble incoming. He has no clear plan on what he's going to say next. He has no clear idea of anything right now, honestly, except the emotion suddenly building in his throat. He is saved from having to do anything by Mike tugging him into a fierce hug. The sound of shaky breathing by Will's ear reveals that maybe Mike is just as surprised by him doing that as Will is. Will moves his hands to caress Mike's lower back as one of Mike's hands migrates from Will's waist to the back of his neck, cupping the soft skin there. Will has to fight the sting in his eyes invoked by the sheer tenderness of the action. He allows himself the indulgence of resting his head on Mike's shoulder. It's the literal end of the world. He's allowed.
"I'm sorry." Mike whispers.
Will reluctantly lifts his head, positioning himself so he can have a clear view of Mike's face. He allows one of his hands to lightly curl around the other boy's bicep.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for. I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything before my life literally depended on it."
Mike shakes his head almost aggressively. Will is reminded of an overzealous dog. He pushes this highly adorable and inappropriate parallel aside. "No. I'm sorry you had to. You shouldn't have to divulge your secrets to everyone just to avoid being some psycho's target. And I do have things to apologise for." His voice cracks, and he wipes at an errant tear tracking down his cheek before continuing. "I'm sorry about that summer. I shouldn't have said what I did, and I shouldn't have pushed you away. You had every right to be scared of losing me."
Mike takes a deep breath. Will feels like he's hardly breathing anymore. "I told you I felt like I lost you last year when we were in California. And I did feel like that. But I know I could have done more. I could have written. But when you didn't pick up the phone... I don't know. I guess I thought it would be better for me to just let you be. Stop being so attached to you, or something. El said you were doing good, so I figured I would rip off the bandaid."
Will's heart drops at the memory of the metaphor he used to describe losing Mike. Well, El losing Mike. But that was not what stood out to him from what Mike said. "You called?" Will whispered.
Mike lifts up Will's chin, forcing the gaze that was trained on the ground to meet his own. "Of course I did." Mike drops Will's face, shifting on his feet, nerves returning to his demeanour. "I wrote, too." This came as a surprise. Will figured that letters were a special right reserved for girlfriends, not former-best-friends-who-are-also-in-love-with-you.
"I wish I had sent them." At this, Mike meets Will's gaze again. "I'm sorry. I've been such an idiot."
Will wipes at tears that he had hardly noticed falling. "You're not an idiot, Mike."
The taller boy laughs wetly. "I most definitely am." At this, Will gives his own chuckle. "I bet your crush is a hell of a lot less of an idiot." Mike gives his eyebrows a half-hearted wiggle but fails to mask something in his eyes that reads a lot like pain.
Will feels a blush rise to his cheeks. He looks down at his feet while he whispers, "I wouldn't say that." It's an intentionally ambiguous response but Will can't help but feel like Mike can see right through him. Will wonders if he'll ever stop second-guessing himself.
Mike laughs almost forcefully. Will peeks up behind his bangs to see something akin to a grimace on Mike's face. "Maybe you should introduce us; seems like we would get along!"
Will doesn't think he has it in him to pretend to laugh. Instead, he does what he always does. The one thing that comes most naturally to him. He looks at Mike. And Mike looks at him. The other boy swallows, eyes darting all over Will's face before settling on somewhere below his nose.
"Mike." The name leaves on a sigh. Will squeezes his eyes shut. After a deep inhale, he opens them, only to find that the other boy has moved even closer, close enough that Will has to look up to meet his gaze.
Mike's thumb rubs slow circles onto the back of Will's hand, the touch feather-light. Will thinks he might die. Forget Vecna. Here lies William Byers. Cause of death: homoerotic hand-holding. The two boys' eyes bore into each other. Mike seems to be trying to communicate without words. Something that may have worked a few years ago. Before everything started. Before they drifted apart. Before they drifted back together. But it turns out Will doesn't need to read minds.
"You're not alone."
Will searches his face. It is open. Trusting.
"You're not alone."
Will's eyes shutter shut as his lips part involuntarily. He feels Mike lean in, close enough for their breaths to mingle. He can almost feel the warmth of his lips. Mike must be able to feel Will's heart, given how hard it is currently trying to beat out of his chest. Mike's lips brush Will's.
"Wheeler, Byers, hurry up!"
Hopper's gruff voice has an almost physical effect on Will. He stumbles backwards, feeling as if someone dumped a bucket of icy water over his head. He dares a look at Mike, whose lips are parted, but in shock, rather than before, when they were about to... no.
Will's brain feels like a bad fireworks show. So many thoughts springing into being without the stage to be fully addressed. Mike and Will are about to kill an interdimensional monster. Mike and Will almost kissed. Mike looked hurt when Will wrenched his hand away. Mike and Will almost kissed. Mike is straight. Mike and Will almost kissed. Mike said Will isn't alone. Mike and Will almost kissed.
Tears spring to Will's eyes, and he turns away from the other boy before he can do something ridiculous like throw caution to the wind and kiss Mike anyway, like he's wanted to ever since he discovered what kissing was. He can't. Even if they weren't at the zenith of a battle spanning five years, Will is still Will. Mike is still Mike. Will makes one of the hardest decisions he's had to make in his godforsaken life. He walks away.
Stupid.