Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Party is at the table, still sniffling and wiping dry tears off their faces. Karen doesn't push. She almost glides around the table, making sure everyone gets their plates and utensils. Lucas is talking to Dustin, who keeps glancing over to Jane from across the table, only registering half of Lucas' words. Max is pressed up to her boyfriend's shoulder, expression both relaxed and tired. She laughs when Jane tells her something. Will is leaning forward, face propped up on his hand. He's looking at his plate with a weak smile on his face. Just taking in the laughter and conversations around him.

Mike joins last, trying to sneakily wipe the tear remnants from his cheeks. He sniffs and drops on the empty seat next to Will, as always. These have been their assigned seats since they were kids. Will turns to him and gives him a smile. The look in his eyes is asking 'are you okay?' without actually saying it. Mike smiles back. It's thin, a little strained, but it's good enough for Will.

They slowly forget about the tears they shed in the basement, and just enjoy the delicious food and each other's company. Jane compliments the lasagna over and over, curious about every ingredient. She settles down whenever she catches Dustin's glances, smiling with flushed cheeks.

Lucas tries feeding Max over and over, earning groans from everyone else. It continues until Max pinches Lucas in the ribs, which made him nearly drop his fork. Mike is laughing along, lightly smiling, but it's clearly not fully genuine. At least it's clear to Will. He keeps glancing over to him, lightly bumping him in the shoulder with his own, checking in without pushing. Mike just gives a weak nod every time.

They stayed in the kitchen for a little while, even after they were done eating. The conversation shifted to colleges, jobs, future plans. Everyone is listing their options, giving each other advice on which one sounds better, already planning future meet ups. Everyone but Mike. He's unusually quiet, barely participating. They know he doesn't want to leave Hawkins yet, so they're not pushing.

"And are you gonna stay with Jonathan?" Lucas asks Will, finishing his orange juice.

"Probably, yeah. At least at first," Will shrugs. "I'm gonna look for a dorm or an apartment as soon as I can."

"Independent," Jane adds, and gets a nod in response.

"What time is it?" Max peels her face away from Lucas' shoulder and looks at the window. The bright sun from earlier has changed into a soft orange glow.

"Six thirty four," Dustin looks at his watch. He raises his eyebrows and looks at the Party.

They all exchange glances, not saying anything for a little while. Dustin raises his eyebrows more, mouth stretching into an exaggerated frown.

"Anyone still down to party?" he asks carefully, like he's approaching a feral animal.

"Did Stacey give us the time?" Will asks, glance jumping from Dustin to Lucas.

"We can still make it," Lucas adds, lightly shrugging.

"I'm down," Dustin raises his hand high in the air, leaning back in his chair.

"Me, too," Jane follows, raising her arm just as high. Dustin gives her a wide smile.

"Fuck it," Max adds after exchanging a glance with Lucas. They both raise their hands, but not as high.

Everyone looks at Will, which makes him freeze for a second from all the attention suddenly pointed to just him. He thinks about it for a second, then shrugs.

"Sure," he raises his hand and immediately looks over to Mike.

Mike is looking at the table, fixated on a specific crack in the wood. He has been pretty tuned out of the conversation. When the room goes completely silent, he looks up, only to see everyone else's eyes locked on him. He scans the room, stops at Will's raised hand.

"Are you coming or not?" Dustin asks when Mike doesn't say anything. Mike looks at him, confused. "The party?"

"Oh," Mike slumps back a bit. He exhales through his nose, long and tired, and rubs the back of his neck nervously. After a brief pause he shrugs. "I'll think about it."

"Well, you have about three hours to 'think about it'," Dustin makes air quotes with his fingers and gets up from his chair.

Everyone else follows, chair legs scraping against the floor. The conversation flows again, this time discussing what time they should meet at, how long they should stay, what to bring, if anything. Max agrees to meet with Jane at Dustin's house. Dustin will help her tame her curls, while Max takes care of her makeup.

"Steve could pick us up," Dustin ponders. Then a light bulb flicks on in his brain, and he nearly jumps up. He snaps his fingers and points at Lucas dramatically. "He can get us beer."

"Wouldn't that be, like, illegal?" Max says, one eyebrow raised. She's done putting her shoes on, leaning on the wall.

"Steve never says 'no' to Dustin," Lucas adds, now also done putting his shoes on, straightening up.

"I just feel like we have to bring something. Party etiquette," Dustin continues.

While still rambling, he opens the front door. Lucas and Max are about to walk through, until Dustin puts his palm out, stopping them in their tracks. He looks over to Jane, does a gentleman stance and lets her walk through, smiling. She gives him a sweet 'thank you'. He follows immediately after her, letting the front door close.

Lucas catches it before it hits the wall with an annoyed sigh. He opens it again, lets Max walk out first and they mumble something to each other, both endeared and annoyed. Before leaving, Lucas turns around and looks at the staircase, where Will was still standing.

"You coming, man?" Lucas asks.

"Just go. See you later," Will waves at him and smiles.

Lucas stays there for a second, quiet. He then nods more to himself than anyone else and finally leaves.

Will stands still for a while, taking in the house. After last year the Wheelers had to do a lot of renovations. Karen decided to give it a complete makeover while they were at it, getting rid of the outdated furniture and replacing it with something new, something unfamiliar. The basement stayed untouched, luckily.

He turns to the living room couch, where Mike was. He's sinking into the leather cushions, shoulders tense, face blank. Will walks over and drops down next to him, lightly brushing his knee with his own. Mike nudges him back.

"You okay?" Will asks quietly.

"Yeah," Mike answers quickly, voice much higher than usual. "Yeah. Totally okay. Just tired."

"You sure?" Will isn't convinced. He gets a weak nod in response. "Are you gonna go to the party?"

"I don't know," Mike mumbles and shrugs, like a little kid. Will can almost see him pout. "I don't really go to parties."

"Me neither. Or any of us, really," Will laughs. He starts picking at a loose thread of the cushion. "But we got an invite. An actual invite. From Stacey."

"Yeah," Mike nods along. His tone is a bit sarcastic. "From Stacey."

"It could be fun," Will turns towards Mike, but he's looking somewhere at the floor.

Will takes in his side profile. The slope of his nose, the dark eyes and eyebrows, sharp jawline, lips he keeps chewing on nervously, little freckles scattered across his cheeks. Will has all these details memorized by this point, captured in his sketchbook many times, but he can't help but look whenever he gets a chance to.

Mike thinks it over for a long second. He's fidgeting with his hands, chewing on his bottom lip, weighing out the options. Either stay home and stare at the ceiling like he always does, or go to the stupid party, maybe have a few drinks, listen to loud music for a few hours, then go home and sleep. He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh.

"Fine," he almost groans and rubs his eyes.

"You're coming?" Will's voice is bright again. He sits up slightly to get a better look at Mike's face.

"Yeah," Mike brings his hand down and immediately locks eyes with his friend. He can't stop the smile that spreads on his face, along with the flush of his cheeks. He blames it on the summer heat.

They just stare at each other for a bit, smiling. Their knees are pressed together, thighs almost touching, but radiating heat on one another. Mike relaxes, sinking back into the cushions even more. His eyes involuntarily drop to Will's lips for half a second. He reminds himself to look back up. Something in Will's face shifts, and he gets up from the couch, clearing his throat.

"Well, I uh.. I guess I should go get ready," Will is swinging his arms around nervously, turned away from Mike.

"Yeah. Me, too," Mike breathes out. His shoulders are tense.

"Wear something nice," Will says while pulling his shoes on. One gets stubbornly stuck on his heel.

"Yeah? Like what?" Mike is leaning on the wall next to him, arms crossed. He smirks a little.

Will stands up straight and looks to the side, thinking. He purses his lips, hums to himself, furrows his eyebrows slightly. It lasts a few seconds. Mike takes in every little change in his face. When Will finally decides, he locks eyes with his friend again.

"That blue shirt you have," Will is vaguely gesturing at his own torso, trying to describe a shirt with his hands.

"Which one?" Mike chuckles, tilting his head.

"Oh, god," Will sighs in frustration, trying to find the words. "It has a collar, and stripes all over it. You know which one."

He's still gesturing, trying to describe the collar and the stripes. He can't help but chuckle, too. He can't remember the brand of the shirt or where Mike got it from. 'A blue polo shirt' is not specific enough in Mike Wheeler's case.

Mike watches his every move and feels the tension in his chest going away. They're both giggling, cheeks flush and hot. Mike knows which shirt Will is talking about, but it's fun to watch him scramble and look for better descriptors.

"Okay, I got it. I know which one it is," Mike finally says, and gets a relieved sigh in response.

"Yeah. You could, like, tuck it into your pants," Will gestures that, too. "It will look nice."

"Nice?"

"Really nice," Will nods with a beaming smile, bright green eyes glimmering.

"Okay, I'll wear it," Mike mumbles. Suddenly he can't look into his friend's eyes anymore. He looks at the ground and shifts on his feet. His knees got weak all of a sudden.

"And your hair-"

"What about my hair?" Mike interrupts. His eyes snap back up at Will, and he instinctively brings his hand up to his own hair.

Will doesn't say anything. He just looks at him, face slowly shifting into a guilty expression. His mouth stretches into a line, eyebrows curve upwards, he scrunches his nose and squints a little, tilting his head. Mike knows what it means. He lets out a long sigh.

"It's the side part, isn't it?" Mike mumbles and drops his head, hand still on his own hair.

"Yeah," Will almost whispers.

"Why does everyone hate the side part?" Mike pouts.

"Well, I don't hate it, per se. It's just," his face scrunches again. "Different."

"Different," Mike parrots and slightly nods. He sounds a little hurt.

"But, I mean, it's your hair, so do whatever you want," Will scrambles, barely pausing between words. His cheeks get more red than they already were. Mike gives him a dry laugh.

"And what are you gonna wear?" Mike asks, pulling his hand away from his hair.

Will pauses, thinking again, a little harder this time. His lips stretch into a thin line, he scrunches his nose a little bit. Mike can't help but look again. Will scratches the side of his neck. Mike focuses on the movement.

"I don't know," Will finally answers and shrugs. He leans on the wall, parallel to Mike. "Got any ideas?"

"That striped shirt Jonathan got you," Mike answers almost immediately. He can see Will's eyes widen at the quickness of that answer.

"With the," Will pauses, gesturing at his arms. "With the purple on the sleeves?"

"Yes," Mike nearly interrupts, a little too eager. He clears his throat and continues. "Yeah. I like that one."

"Okay," Will breathes out and nods. His smile is wide, showing off his bunny teeth.

They just look at each other for a bit, in comfortable quiet. Mike feels fully relaxed now, finally. He feels at home. Will always makes him feel like home, even though this past year has been rough. The others seem to be dealing with the effects pretty well, at least on the outside. Mike still has trouble with that part. But with Will it's easier.

"Then.. see you later?" Will breaks the silence, peeling away from the wall and grabbing the doorknob.

"Yeah," Mike breathes out, voice high.

"Cool."

"Cool."

They look at each other for another second, then Will leaves. The dread crawls back into Mike's chest, settling there. He just now realizes that he has to go to a stupid party in a few hours. He really didn't want to go, but how can he say no to Will.

 

About an hour and a half later Mike's walkie talkie buzzes, and after a few seconds of static Dustin's excited voice comes through. He gave Mike their plan of action.

Be ready by 9:50.

Steve will pick everyone up.

Be ready to go home by 12.

Steve will drive everyone back.

Simple. Easy.

The rest of the time flies by quickly. Mike took a shower, stared at the ceiling for a bit, tried to waste time and distract himself. When he has about 30 minutes left, he starts getting dressed. Without a second thought he pulls out the shirt Will talked about. It's bright blue with stripes, has a collar and a few buttons.

Once Mike puts it on he remembers why he doesn't wear it much. It's the length. It ends just a pinch below his belt, and whenever he moves his shoulders or arms it rides up, revealing the skin on his stomach. His mom bought it for him as a surprise, but she underestimated just how tall he's gotten. It fits perfectly everywhere else, though. The sleeves are a bit loose, it sits comfortably on his shoulders.

He keeps it on, though, despite the discomfort. He buttons it up, and tries to tuck it into his jeans to the best of his ability. It looks fine when he's standing straight, but slips out as soon as he moves. That's gonna be a problem. He could just change into something more comfortable, but he doesn't. He is dead set on wearing this specific shirt.

The hair was another dilemma. Will didn't specify what to do with it, then took his words back completely. But Mike could tell he didn't like it. Will was just trying not to hurt his feelings. A kind soul, as always.

Mike tries smoothing it out with his hands, no gel like he's been doing. It looks dumb. Feels dumb. He combs it to the front, one side, then the other. He's getting annoyed, gripping his bangs harder to let the frustration out somehow. He huffs to himself and just gives up, letting his hair do whatever it wants to.

Mike feels kind of stupid, carefully picking out every piece of clothing, checking himself in the mirror and just not feeling satisfied no matter what he puts on. The shirt slipping out is annoying the hell out of him by this point, and he's completely given up on fixing it. It's tucked in a little bit in the back, and mostly loose at the front.

Time is ticking, and he ends up going with simple black jeans and converse to finish the outfit. Before he can overthink it, a car pulls up into his driveway. As soon as he steps out, a car horn blares out, so loud it probably scared the neighbors. Mike throws his hands up in frustration, speeding up.

"I'm coming!" Mike screams over the sound, getting to the car in a few long strides.

He can hear Steve in the driver seat saying something along the lines of 'stop doing that' and swatting Dustin's hands away from the wheel. Mike opens the back door. Lucas is sitting at the window, Max comfortable on his lap. Jane is in the middle seat, leaning forward slightly, tapping Dustin on the shoulder. When she sees Mike she waves at him. Mike waves back and sits in the remaining seat.

"Alright, just little Byers left," Steve says to himself and pulls out of the Wheeler's driveway.

The car is full of laughter and giddy chats. Jane is both excited and nervous to go to her first party. Dustin is practically sitting backwards in the passenger seat, turned towards Jane, reassuring her. Steve is smirking to himself the whole ride. Lucas and Max are their usual selves. Chatting, gossiping, sometimes going quiet to talk with just their eyes. Mike did catch a few of their glances on him but didn't say anything. He's just looking out the window.

They pull up to the Byers' house shortly after. Will is already on the front porch, Jonathan beside him, shifting on his feet. Dustin reaches over to the wheel again with a mischievous grin.

"Don't you dare," Steve says as he slaps Dustin's hands away.

The Byers brothers come up to the car, talking. It's quiet. Jonathan comes up to the driver's seat, while Will goes to the back door. He opens the one where Lucas and Max are, lets out a startled 'hi', closes it and walks around to the other side of the car. When he opens the door, he immediately locks eyes with Mike. He's wearing the shirt Mike mentioned, along with a necklace. He smells like pine trees.

"Hi," Will breathes out. He looks at Mike, then at Jane and Dustin.

He's a little lost for a second, not sure what to do. Every seat is taken. He and Mike exchange slightly startled glances. Meanwhile in the front Steve is hanging out the window slightly, chatting with Jonathan, smiling widely. He makes a joke, which makes Jon laugh, but he's mostly focused on making sure everyone is safe. Steve reassures him that he will bring his little siblings back right on time.

"How are you guys feeling?" Jonathan says through the window.

"Awesome," Dustin, Jane and Lucas say at the same time. Max gives a thumbs up.

"Let me look at you," Jonathan leans over to look at Jane. There's glittery eyeshadow on her eyelids, lipgloss on her lips, and her hair is curlier than usual. Every strand is laid out perfectly. Jonathan nods proudly. He turns to Dustin. "How did you do that?"

"Special shampoo, conditioner, brushes. Specifically made for curly hair. But the technique is also important. It's a whole process," Dusting stretches his words, emphasizing every one with a gesture. Jonathan listens intently.

"Okay, okay," Steve stops him before he can go on another endless rant and sighs. "Can you do this tomorrow?"

"Okay," Jon lets out a mix of a sigh and laugh. He takes another look at everyone. "Be safe. Have fun, but be safe."

"Is everyone in?" Steve asks and starts the engine back up.

Will is still outside, unsure what to do. The engine roars. Mike scoots back as much as he can, his knees still pressing into Dustin's seat, and he taps on his thigh.

"Just sit here," he whispers, and Will immediately complies.

He carefully sits down on Mike's lap, scooting forward as much as he can. He grips the back of Dustin's seat like his life depends on it, while Mike reaches over and closes the door. Steve pulls out of the driveway.

Stacey's house is a good ten minutes away, in the nicer area of town. The chatter continues. Jane is talking to Lucas and Max. Max fixes any stray hairs on Jane's head. Dustin is rambling to Steve, who's desperately trying to focus on the road. Will and Mike are quiet.

Will is leaning forward, cheek pressed against the head of the passenger seat. Mike is leaning back, hands laying awkwardly at his sides. He can feel the heat radiating off of Will's back. The car suddenly hits something, a hole in the road probably. It's rough, and everyone jumps. Will yelps, and Mike instinctively wraps his arm around his waist, steadying him.

He doesn't let go. He should, but he doesn't. Then the car hits another hole.

"Can they fix these damn roads already?" Steve groans dramatically.

Mike pulls Will closer, practically pressing their bodies together. He leans up to his ear, whispering.

"Is this okay? You could hit your head."

Will doesn't say anything, just nods. He's still gripping the seat in front of him, fingers digging into the leather. Steve will definitely complain about that later. He shifts slightly to get more comfortable, trying not to touch Mike too much.

Meanwhile Mike reaches his other arm around his friend's waist, locking them together. Making an improvised seatbelt out of his arms. Will is still a bit tense, but eventually Mike can feel him relax, slowly leaning back. When they hit another hole, Mike tightens his grip, keeping Will in place.

By the time they arrive Will is pretty much laying on Mike, while Mike's chin is resting on Will's shoulder. It's so warm Mike is already sweating, and they haven't even entered the party. Steve parks a little away from Stacey's house, the driveway is already filled with cars.

Everyone spills out of the car, limbs sore even though the ride wasn't even that long. Steve opens the trunk and pulls out a whole case of beer.

"Holy shit," Lucas comments, impressed. Dustin wiggles his eyebrows at him.

"Alright," Steve hands the case to Dustin. His shoulders immediately drop from the weight, and he hands it over to Lucas, who picks it up with ease. Steve puts his hands on his hips, voice serious and stern. "Here by twelve, got it? Not a minute later."

"Got it," Lucas says.

"And if we don't?" Max adds sarcastically.

"I'm serious," Steve points at her. "Not. A. Minute. Later. Be safe."

Everyone nods. Steve sighs and gets back in the car. He waits until everyone walks up to the house, then drives away.

Dustin once again opens the door for Jane, letting her walk in first and leaving everyone else behind. Lucas' hands are full, but he catches the door last second and leans against it to keep it open for Max. She rolls her eyes and pulls him inside by his collar.

Mike and Will hang back. Well, mostly Mike. He's stretching his limbs and trying to fix his clothes. The stubborn shirt keeps slipping out of his pants. The hem was already wrinkled from tucking it back in at least fifty times, but now there are new ones on his torso that Will left. He doesn't mind those too much.

"Hold on," Will walks up to him, hands hanging in the air, eager to fix something.

Mike lets him. Will reaches up to his collar, hovering above it until Mike nods, giving permission. Will opens up the buttons carefully. Just one at first. He looks at it for a second, shakes his head and opens the rest, exposing Mike's neck and a little bit of his collarbones. Mike can feel the cold evening air hitting his skin.

"There," Will says, stepping away with a proud smile.

"Is it not gonna be.. too much?" Mike touches his neck where the newly exposed skin is, subconsiously trying to cover up.

"It looks more casual like this. You looked like a nerd before," Will chuckles.

"Ouch," Mike pouts, but there's no actual hurt behind it. He did think that back at home while analyzing himself in the mirror. "And the hair?"

Will looks at his hair, and his mouth stretches into that familiar line. He always does it when he has something to say, but holds it back. Mike's hair is a bit flat now, the bangs swooped to the side on their own. It's clear he didn't put much effort into styling it, but Will doesn't say it.

"It's good," he almost squeaks and nods a little too fast.

Mike can only laugh. He doesn't push. They finally walk inside. The music is blaring, the house is filled with people. Some faces are familiar, others not really. Mike is instinctively looking for the Party. It's only been maybe a minute, but the others already blended into the crowd completely.

Eventually they found Lucas and Dustin in the kitchen, messing with the case of beer. Lucas takes a sip and immediately grimaces.

"It's that cheap shit," he says in between coughs.

"I'll take what I can get," Dustin shrugs and keeps drinking from his bottle in small sips.

They spot Mike and Will and wave them down. They have to squeeze in between some people to get through. Dustin immediately hands each of them a bottle.

"It's awful," Lucas comments. He sets his bottle on the counter, shaking his head. Dustin bumps him in the shoulder.

"Okay, it's not that bad," Dustin groans. "You get used to the taste eventually. That's how it works."

"Nah," Lucas is still shaking his head. "I'll go find something else. Something that doesn't taste like gasoline."

He points somewhere vaguely and goes in that direction. Dustin rolls his eyes and takes another tiny sip, grimacing at the taste. Then Max and Jane emerge from the crowd, holding hands. Jane is laughing, practically exuding sunshine. She sits up on the counter, panting.

"This is so fun!" she exclaims excitedly.

Max smiles at her, happy that her friend is having a great time. She reaches into the case and opens a bottle for herself. She takes a sip and nearly gags.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell is this?" she groans and puts the bottle away like it personally offended her. It kind of did.

"Come on, it's beer! It's not supposed to taste like juice!" Dustin screams over the music, very offended.

"Can I try?" Jane asks, looking at Dustin with her doe eyes. His demeanor immediately changes.

"Um," his voice goes higher. He fumbles with his bottle, then puts it away slowly. "I think I saw punch over there."

He points to the living room. Jane nods, hops off the counter and they both leave, almost immediately blending into the crowd. Will and Mike are still holding onto their bottles, almost scared to open them. Max is leaning back on the counter, arms crossed. She gives the other two a long look, up and down.

Will widens his eyes at her in a silent question. She does it back. They're pretty much having a secret conversation with just their eyes, but Mike can't see it. He's focused on keeping his shoulders down so his shirt doesn't ride up, the tightness of his jeans, the tiniest pebble in his shoe. His bangs are tickling his forehead and poking his eye. He's fidgeting with one of the buttons on his shirt. Everything is uncomfortable.

"I didn't think you'd come," Max breaks the silence. Mike's head snaps towards her.

"Yeah. Me, too," he mumbles back, no energy for a sarcastic response.

"Well, it's good that you did," Max replies. Her voice is flat, but sympathetic. A specific tone she leaves for Mike only. Not too nice, but not completely mean either.

Mike can only nod back before Lucas returns with two red cups in hand. He hands one to Max, using the now free hand to grab her waist. They murmur something to each other and giggle. Max takes a sip and gives a nod of approval. It tastes much better than whatever Steve got them. Lucas gives her a quick kiss on the lips, leans down to her ear and whispers something. He pulls her closer, swaying a bit. Max lightly punches him in the chest, with a beaming smile, and he pulls her away into the crowd.

Mike watches them leave, then glances over to Will. He's still looking in their direction, with sadness in his eyes. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, he's shifting on his feet. Mike can't miss the rosy tint on his cheeks. It's just the two of them again. Suddenly the air feels sticky and uncomfortable. Mike needs a distraction.

"We should, uh," he clears his throat and watches Will's head snap towards him. Mike lifts his bottle up. "Do you wanna try this?"

"I'm kind of scared now," Will chuckles, but opens his bottle anyway.

"Hope I don't puke," Mike adds, opening his bottle and taking a whiff. He scrunches his nose. Even the smell is untrustworthy. He's nervous, but Will's chuckling helps him relax a bit.

"Happy graduation," Will stretches and bumps his bottle into Mike's.

"Happy graduation," Mike repeats and they both take a sip.

It is absolutely awful. As soon as it touches Mike's tongue, he wants to spit it out. He panics and ends up swallowing it. It is physically painful. The liquid is bitter and tangy, leaving an awful aftertaste. Mike lets out a few dry coughs.

"Jesus Christ," he wheezes out, fist pressed to his mouth. He immediately sets the bottle away.

Will reacts a little better. His reaction isn't as gutteral and dramatic as Mike's, but his face still scrunches in disgust. He wasn't expecting the liquid to be sweet, especially after his friends' reactions, but it's still gross. He sets his bottle aside, too.

"That's pretty bad," he groans, voice rough.

"Pretty bad? That's the worst shit I've ever tasted!" Mike protests, looking at the bottles like they personally offended him. He picks one up, trying to read the label.

"Maybe if we just keep drinking it, it will taste better? Like Dustin said?" Will leans closer, trying to be heard over the loud music. Mike can feel his warm breath on the side of his face.

He looks at Will, face unimpressed. Will giggles, mouthing a 'what?'. Mike can't stop the corners of his mouth from twitching up into a smile. He turns away to hide it.

"Fine," Mike groans after a few seconds of thinking. They reach out towards the bottles, but stop. On the counter there are two opened bottles, looking the exact same.

"Wait. Which one's yours and which one's mine?" Will asks, fingers twitching. Mike shrugs.

"Can we just share one?" Mike leans down to Will's ear. "I'm not drinking a whole bottle of that shit."

"Yeah. Sure. Me neither," Will scrambles and just grabs the bottle closest to him. He blushes from his cheeks down to his neck.

Eventually they end up on the couch in the living room, surrounded by their classmates. Everyone is talking, not bothering to include Will and Mike in the conversation, but the two don't really mind. There isn't much room, so their sides are pressed together, from shoulders down to their knees. Mike's legs are spread out a bit, Will's are politely pressed together.

They're having their own quiet conversation, passing the bottle to each other from time to time. It's only about half empty at this point. Mike is sweating. He crosses his arms, and doesn't notice his shirt riding up again, revealing a long line of his stomach. Will tries not to look at it. Instead he passes the bottle back to Mike.

"Does it taste better yet?" Will asks while Mike is taking a sip. He grimaces and hisses.

"No," Mike shakes his head. "Not even a little bit."

Will chuckles and sinks back into the couch with a long sigh. He rubs his face with his hands, trying to rub the blush off of his cheeks. Mike glances over at him, then to the crowd. The music switches to a slow, romantic song, people stop jumping and swinging around, changing to a slower rhythm.

Among the swaying heads Mike sees two familiar curly ones. Dustin and Jane are dancing together. Jane's hands are clasped together at the base of Dustin's neck, while he's gently holding her waist. Their moves are clumsy, they try to find the rhythm. After stumbling again, Jane giggles and buries her face in Dustin's shoulder. Mike lets out an amused 'huh'.

"That's new," he says, which makes Will peel his hands away from his face. He looks at Mike, then follows his gaze to where their friends are dancing.

"It's really not," Will says through a chuckle. Mike turns to him with a confused expression. Will can only raise his eyebrows in surprise. "You're serious?"

"What do you mean?" Mike replies sheepishly. Will huffs.

"Mike, they've been flirting with each other for months. They're not even, like, sneaky about it. Everyone knows," Will leans back, fidgeting. "Well, I guess except you."

Mike pauses. He genuinely did not notice. It makes him feel kind of bad. Always the least observant one.

"It's.. okay, though, right?" Will asks carefully, looking up at his friend.

"What do you mean?" Mike is genuinely lost.

"I mean, you and Jane.. It can be.. weird to some people, you know?"

"Oh," it finally clicks for Mike. He sits up straighter. "Of course it's fine. Why wouldn't it be? I'm sure Dustin will treat her well- And it's not like my opinion even matters here, anyway. I mean, she doesn't need my permission to date other people-"

"Okay, okay," Will interrupts Mike's word vomit before it gets too far. He presses harder into his friend's shoulder, chuckling. "She was just a little worried, I guess. About your reaction."

"Yeah, I don't care. I mean, I do. Obviously, I do. Just not in, like, a bitter ex boyfriend way, you know?"

"Yeah, I got it," Will giggles. He lets out a long sigh and relaxes, pressing his cheek into Mike's shoulder.

Mike takes another sip to keep his mouth shut, and to distract himself from the heat creeping up his neck.

People keep moving around them, but the two of them stay on the couch, still pressed together despite all the empty space they now have. The bottle is almost empty, and the two boys start feeling the effects. They're light, their limbs feel a bit like jello, heads are spinning a little. It's not unpleasant. And the beer taste is not as disgusting as it was before. They're not going for a second bottle, though.

It's around 11 o'clock now, still plenty of time to party. But so far all Mike and Will have been doing is sitting on that couch and talking. Mike can't help but wish they were doing this in his basement instead of Stacey's loud house, now smelling like a mix of alcohol, sweat and various colognes. It makes him nauseaous. Sometimes they see their friends in the crowd. Lucas and Max dancing, Dustin and Jane playing a party game. They blend right in, like they've always been party animals.

"You sure you're okay?" Will asks when Mike goes quiet again. He nudges his foot with his own.

"Yeah. I mean, it's loud and smells like shit, but-"

"Mike," Will interrupts. His eyebrows curve, forming a wrinkle in the middle. "I'm not talking about the party. I'm talking about you."

His voice is gentle, careful. Mike sinks deeper into the couch, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The words suddenly get stuck in his throat.

"You've been really checked out," Will continues. "The others see it, too. We're all worried about you."

"I know," Mike rubs his eyes so hard he starts seeing shapes.

"What's going on?" Will leans closer.

"I'm just.. Everything is changing," Mike shuts his eyes and sighs. Maybe it will be easier to say this way. "You're all moving away, but I just.. I feel stuck. I don't know what I want to do with my life. I don't want things to change. I don't want.. us.. to change."

Mike can feel a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, grounding. His heart is beating fast in his chest and he can feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes. So stupid.

"We're not going to change. We will all stay in touch, meet up whenever we can," Will tries to reassure. He's talking about the whole Party, but that's not exactly what Mike meant. "You still have plenty of time to make up your mind. What about your writing?"

"I.. I haven't been writing much," Mike grumbles, sneakily wiping his eyes.

"Creative block?" Will's face scrunches.

"You could say that," Mike shrugs and takes another sip of beer.

The song changes again, the lights dim. It's almost completely dark except for some small primary colored lights. Will gets up from the couch with a groan, stretching. Mike follows his moves with his eyes.

"Are you gonna dance?" Mike asks. Will leans down a bit to hear better. Their faces are so close Mike can feel Will's breath on his lips.

"I don't know," Will says over the music, shrugging. "I'm kinda nervous. You?"

"Nah," Mike answers, leaning back a tiny bit not to bump his forehead into Will's. "I don't know how. I'm gonna look like a.. Like a wet noodle."

Mike wiggles his arms dramatically. He immediately cringes at himself, shutting his eyes tight, but still gets a loud laugh from Will. They both pause, thinking, until Will breaks the silence.

"We can be wet noodles together."

Mike's breath hitches. It's dark, but he can see Will is surprised at what he just said. He starts leaning back, and Mike can tell he's about to take his words back.

"I'd like that," Mike says before Will can react.

He can see Will's chest drop with a relieved sigh. The both smile. Mike reaches his hand out with a strained 'help me up'. Will firmly grabs his hand without question and practically peels him off of the leather couch. Even through the music he can hear Mike's knees crack. Mike groans like an old man, and Will giggles again.

They carefully squeeze between their classmates, hands still tightly clasped together to stay close. They end up in the corner of the improvised dancefloor, not confident enough to go in the middle. Corner is safe.

At first they just stand there awkwardly, unsure what to do. Mike is a little dizzy, so he leans on the wall behind him to ground himself. His shirt rides up again, and he groans.

"Fucking piece of shit," Mike grumbles, angrily tucking the blue fabric back into his jeans. His moves are jerky, bunching and wrinkling the fabric.

"Just leave it," Will puts his hand on top of Mike's, then pulls it away. Mike freezes. "I remembered it being longer. Sorry."

"It's fine," Mike's voice immediately switches from annoyed to soft. His lips stretch into a light smile. He nervously fidgets with the hem of his collar. "Does it look nice, though?"

"Yes," Will says through a laugh.

"Really nice?'

"Yes, Mike. Really nice," Will rolls his eyes then glances up at Mike's hair. He lingers there, then meets Mike's gaze.

"What is it," Mike says flatly.

"Nothing," Will replies, voice high pitched.

"Just say it. I can take it."

"I really hate the side part," Will almost interrupts with how quickly he responds. There's a pause, then Mike laughs.

"Wow," Mike says and starts patting his hair.

"Sorry," Will immediately feels guilty.

"No, it's okay. What do you not like about it?"

"It just," Will's face scrunches again, he sways from side to side for a few seconds, then lets the words spill out. "It really makes you look like your dad. And everyone hates it."

"Oh," Mike's jaw hangs open for a few seconds. Before Will can starts apologizing again, he continues. "I guess it's better to hear it from you than from Max."

They both chuckle. Mike starts patting at his hair more, not sure what he's doing exactly. Will watches him for a few seconds, then steps forward, hands hanging in the air. He gently swats Mike's hands away, and starts fixing his hair himself. Tangling his fingers into the dark curls, combing through them carefully, not to pull too hard.

He runs his fingers through the part line, messing with it, pulling all the hair to the front. Then he ruffles it all up. Proud of the result, he steps back. The whole time Mike was still as a statue, not daring to move a single muscle. He's so grateful it's dark because he's sure his face and neck are a blooming red. His bangs are poking his eyes a bit. Will gently pushes them back.

"That's better," he adds.

"Th- Thanks," Mike stutters and clears his throat.

"We were supposed to be dancing," Will changes the topic, starting to awkwardly sway to the music.

"Right," Mike breathes out and starts dancing, too.

He wasn't wrong about looking like a wet noodle. His long limbs sway awkwardly, he's not sure what to do with them. They both cringe at themselves, the bottle of beer they shared not enough to calm their nerves. Eventually the both stop and just laugh at themselves.

"Okay, this isn't working," Will says in between giggles, clutching his stomach.

"Another drink?" Mike asks.

"Yes please. But no beer," Will nods eagerly.

They look around, eventually deciding on the table on the other side of the room. In the middle of it is a huge bowl of punch, surrounded by red cups. They used to be stacked up neatly, now scattered all over the place. Without hesitation, Mike clasps Will's hand in his, gripping tightly. Just to stay close.

He pulls Will through the crowd of people, some still messily dancing. At one point someone bumped into Will roughly, making him lose the grip on Mike's hand. Mike reacts fast, catching his hand, only this time he intertwines their fingers. More secure this way.

Mike tries not to overthink it, just does it. Will doesn't seem to mind, squeezing his hand in response. They make it to the table, holding hands for a beat longer than necessary. They reluctantly let go and grab a cup each. Mike pours Will's drink first, then his own. This one looks and smells better than whatever that beer from hell was. Without saying anything, they bang their cups together, and take a big sip. The taste is fruity, a little sour, but not too much. It burns their throats, but it's not unpleasant. They exchange impressed glances, and Will goes to down the whole thing in one go. He peeks at Mike in the process.

Mike's eyebrows quirk up, accepting the challenge, and he does the same, chugging the rest of his drink. He can feel the liquid burning his insides, heat settling in his stomach and slowly spreading throughout his body. A drop of it misses his mouth, going down his chin, and he wipes it off.

Before he knows it, Will grabs him by his wrist and pulls him back towards their safe little dark corner. Their bodies move with a delay, the room is spinning a bit, but their mood is great. Will is permanently smiling, showing off his bunny teeth. Mike is smiling, too, but it's not from the alcohol.

The beat of the music is vibrating through them, and they start clumsily dancing again. It still looks stupid and painfully awkward, but they're feeling great. Will is full on spinning, shifting away from Mike until someone bumps into him again. He loses his balance, nearly faceplanting, but Mike catches him. They stumble and almost fall together, but he catches him.

"Sorry," Will laughs so hard he covers his mouth.

"You okay?" Mike's voice is concerned, but he's also laughing. One of his hands is on Will's lower back, anchoring him in place. The other is on his shoulder, trying to keep him from folding forwards.

"I think I'm drunk," Will looks up at Mike, green eyes shining and glistening even in the dark. Mike's breath hitches. They both burst out laughing.

"Okay," all Mike could come up with.

His hands stay right where they are. One on Will's shoulder, firm. The other on his lower back. Will's hands creep up to Mike's shoulders, trying to keep himself from falling over. At least that's what Mike thinks.

They're not paying attention to the music anymore. Everything around them is an echo. They can only hear each other's voices, snickers and giggles. They're lazily swaying from side to side, somehow that makes them less dizzy than just standing in place. Mike feels the heat all over his body, but especially his neck and face. His thumb is rubbing circles into the fabric of Will's shirt without him realizing. At one point Will's hands shifted from Mike's shoulders to the base of his neck, more steady.

Mike gets lost in it. Will's warm hands on his neck, impossibly close. They're clumsily shifting their feet from side to side, bumping into each other sometimes. Mike's heart is beating so hard he can feel it vibrate in his ears. He looks around. The room is dark, no one is paying attention to them in the corner, too drunk and lost in the music. He lets out a long, shaky breath and presses his head to Will's temple.

"You okay?" Will asks, voice worried despite the alcohol.

Mike doesn't say anything, just nods against Will's hair. He pulls him closer, chests pressed together. His shirt rode up again, and he can feel the heat radiating off of Will on his lower stomach. His grip tightens, almost desperate. Before he can overthink it and panic, Will pulls him closer, too. One of his hands sneaks up into Mike's hair, gently messing with the curls.

Mike turns his head, nose pressed into his friend's soft hair. He takes a deep breath, smelling the familiar shampoo. It feels reassuring, grounding. Eventually they stop swaying and just stand there, hugging tightly. Will's face is buried into Mike's shoulder. They can feel their heartbeats bouncing off of each other, both rapid and loud.

"Hey, Mike?" Will breaks the silence. His voice cracks a little. Mike hums in response. He is right above Will's ear, so he heard it perfectly. "I'm really glad you came."

Will's grip tightens. Mike can feel his stomach twisting into a painful knot, and he can't stop the tears welling up in his eyes. He wants to respond, but his throat feels impossibly tight. Any sound he tries to make will surely turn into a pathetic sob. So instead he leans lower, and leaves a feather light kiss on Will's temple. He's not sure why he did it, but it felt right.

Will freezes, but doesn't pull away. Mike takes it as a sign to leave another kiss, more firm and audible. This one landed closer to Will's cheekbone.

"Mike," Will says, barely above a whisper.

"Will," Mike replies, even quieter.

Mike's hand starts gently tracing the curve of Will's spine. The other hand slides over to the base of his neck, thumb rubbing near the Adam's apple. Will's breath hitches, and he pulls away slightly, just enough to meet Mike's eyes.

Mike's eyebrows are curved upwards, eyes dark and wide. It's impossible to make out where his pupils end and irises begin. He's nervously chewing on his bottom lip, already red and slightly swollen. His usually pale skin is red and hot, up to the tips of his ears. Will stares at him with wide eyes, searching. He glances at one eye, then the other, down to his lips for half a second, then back up. Mike's eyes are fixated somewhere lower. Will has to bend his head to meet his gaze.

"Bathroom," all Will manages to say before untangling from Mike's arms, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away.

Will's legs feel wobbly, and he has absolutely zero clue where he's going. Stacey's house is huge, two stories, and there are doors everywhere. Half are locked, others are occupied with people making out or puking. Eventually they end up upstairs at the end of a long quiet hallway.

Their bodies are still vibrating to the music, ears ringing and getting used to the quiet. Will finds a door, slightly open. It's a bathroom. Thank God. It's small, clearly more of a backup bathroom than an actual bathroom, but it works. He pulls Mike inside, turns the light on and locks the door, just in case.

When he turns around Mike is staring at him with that same flushed look from earlier. They stay quiet for a few seconds before Mike stumbles forward, one hand cupping Will's cheek. Will doesn't have time to react before Mike presses their lips together.

It's clumsy, uncoordinated. At first he misses a little and kisses only the corner of Will's mouth. After a second he fixes the position. Will is frozen. His eyes are shut tight, mouth pulled into a thin line. His thoughts are racing, and he can't think at the same time. It takes his drunk brain a few seconds to catch up and realize what's going on. Mike is kissing him.

Immediately Will's hands land on Mike's shoulders, pulling him closer. He starts moving his lips, responding to the kiss. It's unsure. Will has thought about what it would be like to kiss someone, or specifically Mike, but he never got to actually test it out. Their noses bump, shallow breaths escape in between sloppy kiss noises.

It last a few seconds before Will comes back to reality. His eyes shoot open, and he presses his palms into Mike's chest, separating them. Mike almost chases after it, head leaning forward while he's getting pushed away. He slowly open his eyes, breathing heavily.

"What are you doing?" Will asks, trying to catch his own breath.

"Kissing you?" Mike mumbles, still looking at Will's lips.

"Why?"

Will's voice is rough. Mike finally looks him in the eyes. His thin eyebrows furrow, confused.

"Is that not why we came here?" Mike genuinely asks. He pouts.

"I- I thought you were sick, I don't know!" Will scrambles. He's actually not entirely sure why he pulled Mike all the way over here. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself and his scrambled brain. "Why did you kiss me?"

"I wanted to," Mike answers simply. Will swears he can see his friend's cheeks getting more red right in front of his eyes.

"But why? Why do you want to kiss me?" Will almost pleads. His fists close around the fabric of Mike's shirt.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Mike doesn't say anything else. He just looks at Will, hoping that's enough for him to understand, like he always does. He can always tell how Mike feels just by the curve of his eyebrows, the scrunch of his nose, the twitch of his lips. They don't always need words. Just looking at each other is enough. Mike's eyes are pleading, hoping, waiting for Will to get it, to fill in the blanks, to finish the sentence. Will doesn't budge.

"I need to hear you say it, Mike," Will's voice cracks on the last word. His grip on Mike's shirt weakens, palms spreading out on his chest, gentle. He looks up at Mike with a pleading look of his own.

Mike panics. His eyes jump all over Will's face, fingers twitch. He isn't good with words even when sober, and the alcohol definitely isn't helping now. Neither do Will's big green eyes on him, expecting but patient at the same time. Mike lets out a sigh so deep it feels like it came from his soul, and drops his head forward, forehead pressing into Will's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he breathes out, muffled by Will's shirt. The tears escape his eyes, immediately soaking into the fabric.

They don't say anything. Will gently pats his friend on the back, waiting patiently. Like he always does. Always patient, knows when to give Mike space, when to nudge. It makes Mike's stomach twist even more. He's desperately trying to collect his thoughts. He can't run away, can't lash out. Not anymore.

"I should've asked first," first sentence Mike manages to piece together. One of his hands is squeezing the hem of Will's sleeve.

"You're still not answering my question," Will says and tries to laugh, to ease the atmosphere. It comes out dry. Mike groans in response and presses his face deeper into Will's shoulder, almost like he's trying to hide. "I need to know what this means to you, Mike. Kissing me."

"Will, please-"

"Mike," Will interrupts, firm. His hand snakes its way up to Mike's neck, pulling him up until their eyes meet.

Mike's face is blotchy, eyes red and wet with tears. His lips are pressed together in a tight line, and he's doing his 'sad-lost-boy-puppy-dog-thing' that he always denies. Usually it would make Will weak in the knees, make him forget what the issue was in the first place, but he persists. He swallows the urge, and keeps talking.

"Look, if this is.. just some drunk experiment for you," Will's voice is wobbly, it cracks a little despite how much he tries to keep it leveled. He feels himself tearing up as well.

"No!" Mike interrupts, straightening up so fast Will's hand slips away from his neck. "God, no, Will. It's not.. It's not like that."

"What is it, then?" Will can't keep the eye contact anymore, so he looks down at the floor. Everything around him blurs.

"It's.. God, this is so hard," Mike groans a rubs his face with his hands. He slaps his cheeks a few times, trying to sober up. His heart feels like it's about to break his ribs and jump out right at Will's feet. He takes one last sharp breath. "Okay, well.. Um.. You remember that day, at the Squawk? When you.. told us?"

"Yeah," Will nods and even chuckles. How could he ever forget that.

"Yeah. Well, I kind of.. realized something? A few things, actually. I just remember your speech, and it got me thinking about.. everything, really," Mike is fidgeting like never before, cracking his knuckles, picking at the skin around his nails. He's rocking back and forth on his feet. Anything to keep his nerves at bay. He would be pacing around if this bathroom wasn't the size of a closet. "You, and me, and everything that's happened. All the times I was an asshole to you-"

"I already forgave you for all of it," Will interrupts, voice a bit strained. He's still looking down at the floor. There are a few wet tracks running down his cheeks.

"You did, but I never gave you a proper explanation for why I treated you like that. I honestly didn't fully realize it until recently," Mike rubs his neck to soothe himself. "I.. I've been.. confused. For a while. My whole life, probably. I've had these.. feelings, that I never fully understood. And for years I tried to ignore them, push them away. Then there was Jane, but those feelings didn't go away. And Jane is great, obviously, but it just.. When we were together, it felt like I was.."

"Performing?" Will helps, quietly.

"Yeah," Mike exhales and his shoulders finally relax. He didn't realize just how tense his body has been so far. "How did you.."

"Trust me, she's told me all about it," Will lets out a wet chuckle that makes his shoulders shake. "She felt that, too."

"Right," the best response Mike could come up with. He takes another sharp breath and continues. "I just felt like I had to act like a perfect boyfriend, instead of.. actually being one? Does that make sense?"

"I think so," Will nods, encouraging.

"But it never felt like that with you- I mean, I never had to perform around you. I could just be myself," Mike scrambles. He feels the blush creeping up his neck. "And being around you made me so happy. But then, it started to scare me, in a way? I was confused why I wanted to be around you more than my literal girlfriend, why I kept thinking about you, and it felt wrong. I felt like.. Like I was wrong. So that's why I started to push you away, and why I was such a fucking asshole to you. You didn't deserve that."

"You were a teenager," Will tries to reassure. More tears are running down his cheeks.

"Still," Mike rebuttles. "I thought that if I push you away, those feelings would go away, too. But they didn't. They got stronger. When you moved, I felt like I was losing my mind. Being away from you like this was.. It was torture, Will. I wanted to see you so bad, I wanted to know what you're up to."

"Then why-"

"And then I was an even bigger asshole when I visited!" Mike buries his face in his hands, pressing so hard he sees shapes.

"So.. is that why you didn't write me any letters? Because of.. those feelings?" Will says weakly when Mike quiets down for a bit. He can sense that Mike is about to panic and retreat.

"I did, Will. I did write to you, I just.. I was too scared to actually send any of them," Mike says, voice strained and weak. A sob escapes him. "God, I was so goddamn scared."

"I don't.. I don't think I'm following," Will furrows his brows. He's really trying not to jump to conclusions here.

"It felt wrong that I had to write to you in the first place. I was so used to you just.. being there. With me," Mike wipes the tears off his face roughly. "At first I didn't even know what to write. You already know everything about me, there was nothing new I could tell you. I didn't send the first few letters because they looked like I was writing to a stranger instead of my best friend. Then I.. I started writing whatever was on my mind, anything. I hoped that eventually I will feel brave enough to actually send them. But they got.. deep. Quickly."

Mike pauses. He's chewing on his lip nervously. He shuts his eyes tight, trying to form the next sentence in his head. He doesn't look at Will. He can't.

"I started putting these feelings into words, and it just poured out of me. I don't even know how many letters I wrote. I would write one every evening, right before going to sleep. And- And at one point I knew that I won't send them anyway, so I just stopped.. restricting myself, you know?" Mike doesn't check for Will's answer and just keeps going. "It almost felt like you were there? Like I was talking to you, and that made it a little easier. Then Jane told me there's someone that you like in Lenora-"

"Mike," Will speaks up, but Mike doesn't let him.

"Will, please," Mike looks at him with pleading eyes. "I felt, like, angry about it? And I was confused as to why. I mean, Dustin has had crushes, so did Lucas, and it never bothered me. But with you.. It just did. And I didn't get it. Then when I saw you, I just.. I panicked, I guess? I still.. I feel so stupid for how I treated you. And I'm so, so sorry, Will. I know you said you forgave me, but I just.. I can't apologize enough."

"You already did," Will answers, poking Mike in the side gently. "And there wasn't anyone in Lenora, by the way."

"I know that now," Mike almost chuckles. His smile quickly drops, though.

Everything in him is screaming to shut up, dismiss, run away. He fights it. Will finally looks up at him through his wet lashes. Mike's breath hitches, and he realizes that this is impossible with eye contact. He pulls Will into another hug, not too firm in case he wants to pull away, and presses his nose into the brown fluffy hair.

"Was it me?" Mike breathes out. His throat is contracting around the words. He feels Will shift a little in his arms.

"What?" Will asks, barely above a whisper.

"The crush you mentioned at the Squawk? It was me, wasn't it?"

"Mike," Will breathes out, unsure what else he can say.

"Am I too late?"

The air stills. They both freeze and hold their breath. They can't hear the muffled music mixed with drunk voices outside the door, the hum of the lamp above them. Only their heartbeats bouncing off of each other in a fierce battle.

"W- What?" Will stutters eventually, the silence feeling suffocating. He tries to pull his head away enough to see Mike's face, but all he can see are black curls pressing into the crook of his neck.

"I am, aren't I?" Mike says into Will's skin. It's muffled, and his shoulders shake from violently sobbing. "I'm always late. God, I'm such a fucking idiot."

"Mike-"

"I'm so sorry, Will. God, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for not seeing it sooner," Mike's grip tightens so much his knuckles go white.

"Mike-"

"I love you."

Will freezes again. His eyes widen, he forgets how to breathe or think. Is this real? Or is he that drunk? It takes him a few seconds to catch up, while Mike keeps rambling.

"I think I've always loved you without realizing. But I was too much of a coward, so I kept pushing you away. You didn't deserve any of it. You are so brave. So much braver than I ever could be."

"M- Mike," Will's hand slowly creeps up to the back of Mike's neck.

"But I can't keep hiding from it anymore. You deserve to know the truth. And whatever your answer is, I will accept it. I just," Mike chokes up on his tears. "I don't wanna lose you. I can't lose you, Will."

"Mike!"

Will finally gathers enough strength to pull Mike away enough to meet his eyes. It's painful, seeing him like this. He looks completely wrecked and devastated. Will knows the feeling. His eyebrows are curved in concern, but his mouth stretches into a smile. He gently cups Mike's face, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones. He can see Mike's face relax a little.

"Just shut up," Will says when Mike opens his mouth to keep talking.

Will stands up on his tippy toes and kisses Mike this time. It's still clumsy, he can feel both wet and dried tears on their faces mixing together. Mike's hands grip Will's waist tight, pulling their bodies closer.

Mike tilts his face a little to get a better angle. A few more sobs escape him, Will pats his hair in response. Eventually they separate to breathe, foreheads still pressed together. They're both panting, eventually it turns into laughing.

"God," Mike sighs and sniffs. Will wipes away any stray tears with his thumb. Mike leans into the touch.

"Did you mean it?" Will asks, sounding a little unsure. Mike's eyes shoot open.

"Of course," Mike cups Will's cheek gently. Will nods quickly, but still looks unsure. That makes Mike huff out a laugh. "Will, I've been trying to flirt with you for, like, months at this point. I thought I was being so obvious."

"Really?" Will's voice goes higher. His eyes drift to the side, recalling any of their past interactions.

"Are you serious?" Mike asks flatly, tilting his head to meet Will's gaze.

"I didn't wanna read into it too much," Will shrugs.

They both burst out laughing, leaning backwards. The weight of all the tension building up over the years finally lifts. They feel lighter than ever.

"What is wrong with us?" Mike says once he's done laughing, wiping the leftover tears from his eyes.

Will lets out a few last laughs, then cups Mike's face again, lining the two of them up. They just look at each other for a second, taking it all in. They're both smiling like dorks, to the point their cheeks hurt.

"I love you, too," Will says, looking right into Mike's dark eyes.

Mike's brain short circuits. He opens his mouth to say something, then the nausea suddenly hits him like a truck. In a split second his face drops, knees buckle and he gets paler than usual. They both scramble and run to the toilet.

Mike sat on the floor in front of the open toilet for a good few minutes, just breathing heavily. Will is kneeling next to him, gently rubbing his back. Mike hasn't thrown up anything, just suddenly felt weak and like his stomach flipped upside down.

"Feeling any better?" Will asks gently.

"Kinda," Mike breathes out. He leans on the wall behind him, the cool tile soothing him.

"Is it the drinks?"

"I think it's the nerves," Mike laughs weakly.

"Okay," Will giggles back.

"Hey, Will," Mike mumbles after another pause.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Will rolls his eyes and turns away, trying to hide the smile splitting his face. Can't hide the blush, though.

"You are an idiot," Will grumbles, but it's playful. He turns back to Mike. "I love you, too."

A stupid grin spreads on Mike's face. They both giggle. Mike's hand finds Will's, carefully linking their fingers together. He feels peaceful, like everything is going to be okay. He could stay in this stuffy bathroom forever if he could.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" Mike says carefully. Will nudges him in the shoulder.

"Yes, Mike, you can be my boyfriend," Will rolls his eyes again and giggles. Mike wants to keep making him flustered like this for the rest of his life.

He leans forward, Will meets him halfway. Their lips connect in another kiss. This one is more confident. Their lips are moving in unison, like they were destined to be like this. Mike squeezes Will's hand. Will squeezes back.

They keep shifting closer and closer, until Mike's back is flush against the wall, and Will in sitting on his lap. The floor is cold and uncomfortable, but they don't care. They only separate their mouths to breathe for half a second at a time.

Will's hand finds its way into Mike's hair, tugging, patting, messing with the curls. He gasps into the kiss when Mike grips his waist tightly, pulling him even closer, if that's possible in their current position.

Mike feels so happy he can almost start crying into the kiss. His eyebrows curve, fingers grip onto Will so hard, as if he will disappear if he lets go. The room fills with the sloppy sounds of their lips slotting together and quiet gasps.

"Mike! Will! Goddamnit."

A familiar voice comes from beyond the door. Mike and Will immediately separate, heads snapping towards the sound. They hold their breaths.

"Where the hell are they?" another familiar voice.

"Lucas. Dustin," Mike and Will whisper at the same time. Mike looks at his watch, eyebrows furrowed.

"Shit," he hisses.

It's 11:52.

They both scramble. Will carefully gets off of Mike, knocking over something in the process. Meanwhile Mike gets off the floor, groaning. This bathroom is way too cramped for him. Will reaches for the door handle, but Mike grabs his wrist. Will gives him a confused look.

"They'll know," Mike mouths, gesturing between the two of them.

They're both flushed, lips are red and swollen, still glistening from the kiss. Mike's shirt is completely wrinkled. Will's is half untucked from all the waist gripping Mike was doing. Plus it would be very obvious if they both come out of the bathroom together. Will thinks it over and nods. They press their ears to the door, listening.

"Have you checked over there?" Jane's voice.

"Don't- Don't go there. You don't wanna see what's behind that door," Dustin's voice, almost traumatized.

"Maybe they're downstairs and we missed them," Lucas' voice.

"What about there?" Max.

Mike and Will hear steps getting closer, louder. Then a few loud bangs on the door, startling them so bad they fly backwards.

"Anyone in there?!" Max shouts, still banging. Will can almost see the doorframe shake.

Pause. Long pause. A few more bangs, violent tugs at the door handle. Mike covers his mouth and tries not to look at Will, otherwise he would immediately burst out laughing and completely blow their cover. Will does the same.

They're just frozen in place, not moving, not breathing, not even blinking. As if they're hiding from a herd of hungry zombies and not their friends. Then they hear the familiar Max groan and the door gets kicked at the bottom.

"Maybe they're still downstairs," Lucas says. He sounds drunk.

"God fucking damnit," Dustin groans.

The steps get quieter, eventually disappearing. Mike slowly peels his hand away from his mouth, then hears Will snickering next to him. It immediately turns into laughter. Mike presses a finger to his lips, shushing both Will and himself. Will grabs him by the shoulder not to fall over.

"Oh my god," Will stretches, then turns to the mirror and starts quickly fixing himself.

He tucks his shirt back in neatly, pats down some hair strands that stick out in the wrong direction. He doesn't notice that his necklace is backwards, the charms resting at the back of his neck. Mike gently grabs them and pulls them forward, fixing the chain where it got twisted. His fingers linger. He just now realized that it's the same necklace he gave Will as a birthday gift. He felt so nervous about it back then.

"I've never seen you wear this one," Mike mumbles, not even bothering to fix himself, just staring at Will's profile.

"I save it for special occasions," Will says with a wide smile. He turns to face Mike, and starts fixing his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles as much as possible. Then he combs his hair out with his fingers. It's gentle and makes Mike's eyes close.

"You look nice, by the way," Mike murmurs.

"Just nice?" Will chuckles, finally satisfied with Mike's hair. He tilts his head, playful.

"Pretty, actually," Mike corrects himself. He leans down to press a quick kiss to Will's nose. He doesn't pull away, pressing their foreheads together. "Really pretty."

"Okay," Will rolls his eyes and slaps Mike in the stomach, making him keel over. "We need to go."

Still laughing, Will takes Mike's hand, unlocks the door and they leave. Once they cross the hallway, they reluctantly separate their hands. Downstairs the party is still going, but there seems to be less people now. Will notices the familiar four figures at the front door, clearly annoyed. He feels a little guilty. Just a little.

"There they are! Jesus Christ," Dustin stretches and throws his hands up in frustration. Jane pats him on the shoulder, laughing.

"Told you," Max says, proud about something. She keeps glancing over to Jane. Will gives her a questioning look, but she doesn't say anything.

"Where the hell were you guys?" Lucas asks, sounding exhausted and annoyed.

"L- Living room," Will says.

"Outside," Mike says at the same time.

They glance at each other. Everyone glances at them. Mike's mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out. He glances over at Will, screaming internally.

"We.. We were dancing!" Will starts.

"Then went outside 'cause.. it was," Mike falters.

"It was hot," Will finishes, nodding.

"Yeah. Hot," Mike nods faster, licking his lips.

Max gives them a long look, up, down, back up again. She raises her eyebrow. Lucas' hands are on his hips. He also looks unimpressed. Max and Jane exchange another glance.

"Okay, we don't have time for this. Steve is about to get here," Dustin claps his hands, getting everyone's attention, and dramatically points to the door, eyes wide.

They let it go and get outside. Both Will and Mike sigh in relief. Lucas and Max sit on a curb, pressed together. Lucas is stretching his legs, complaining about how sleepy he is. Max is rubbing his back, whispering about something in his ear. Lucas starts to turn around to look behind him, then Max quickly grabs his shoulders, stopping him.

A few steps behind them are Will and Mike, standing awkwardly with their arms crossed. Will is rocking on his feet, trying to keep his balance. The air is a bit chilly, he can feel the goosebumps running up his arms. Mike steps forward, pressing their shoulders together.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, tilting his head to see Will's face better.

"Yeah," Will answers with a smile. They look at each other and blush. Will turns away to calm down his nerves. "And you?"

"Just tired," Mike mumbles and knocks Will's elbow with his own. Will knocks back.

Across the road are Dustin and Jane. Dustin is laying flat on the grass, limbs spread out. His eyes are closed, and he's rambling about something. Jane is sitting up at first, looking down at him with a smile. Then she laughs at his joke and plops down next to him, head on his arm. Dustin immediately wraps that arm around her shoulder. Mike watches them and feels a smile spread on his face.

Things are changing. They are changing. But it doesn't have to be a bad thing.

Steve arrives five minutes late. Dustin and Lucas let him know just how upset they are by that fact. When Jane gets up from the grass, Dustin stops her and carefully picks out the leaves that got stuck in her hair. How dare they.

Steve stops him and pulls him aside to 'talk'. They try to be secretive and private about it, but everyone can hear it and knows what it's about anyway. Afterwards Dustin goes to take the passenger seat like he always does, but when he opens the door, he sees Lucas, already buckled in.

"Out," Dustin says, eyes wide.

"You snooze, you lose," Lucas shrugs and sinks back into the seat, clearly showing he has no intention of moving anytime soon.

"I hate you," Dustin rolls his eyes and slams the door closed.

"Gentle!" Steve groans, hands in the air.

"Dick," Lucas mumbles to himself and rubs his temples. His head is already throbbing as it is.

Dustin opens the back door instead. Jane is sitting at the opposite end, with Max on her lap. Max is leaning back on her, almost asleep. Jane flashes him a bright, shy smile. Dustin smiles back and rushes to get in the middle seat next to her. They never get to sit together, which always annoyed him.

"Can you stay at mine tonight?" Mike breaks the silence before they get in the car.

"Uh.. I think I need some time to.. you know, process everything," Will answers carefully. He feels a bit guilty when Mike's smile drops. "This is just.. a lot."

"Yeah. Yeah, I get that," Mike nods. He looks a little hurt, but he understands. He kicks a pebble away like a little kid.

"I can come tomorrow," Will adds, tilting his head.

"I'd like that," Mike immediately answers, and it's like he lit up.

Steve whistles, getting their attention. When they look at him, he points to the car, then his watch. Right. They've just been standing there like dorks, wasting time. Mike gets in first, then Will lands on his lap, just like before, but definitely a lot less awkward. Mike immediately wraps his arms around Will's waist, and presses his cheek somewhere in between his shoulder blades. He feels so warm and fuzzy and happy that he starts drifting off to sleep almost immediately.

Max gets dropped off first. Lucas was pretty much asleep in the front seat, but he still woke himself up to give her a goodbye kiss through the window. Then he immediately went back to sleep.

The next stop was the Byers house. Jonathan was already on the front porch, with a blanket on his shoulders. Will and Mike get out first. Dustin rushes out right after them. He almost falls flat on his face in the process, but catches himself. Then he sprints around the car to the other back door, and opens it for Jane. She's laughing, then she hugs Dustin tight.

Will and Mike stand there awkwardly for a second, watching what Dustin was doing, then looking at each other, all giddy. Mike's fingers almost burn with how much he wants to run them through Will's hair, grab his hand, kiss him, hug him. He settles on hugging him. They hug all the time, that shouldn't be too obvious. He keeps his arms at Will's shoulders, though he wants to move them lower so, so badly.

"I'm glad I went," Mike murmurs near Will's ear.

"Had fun?" Will asks playfully.

"Oh, yeah," Mike stretches sarcastically.

They stay like that for a little longer than necessary, then reluctantly separate, still looking at each other. Will can't hold the eye contact for long, and turns away, biting down a smirk.

"Goodnight, then," he breathes out.

"Yeah. Goodnight," Mike nods nervously and smiles. That same stupid dorky smile.

His gaze lingers on Will's back as he's walking away, then it lands on Jonathan. He's still on the front porch, illuminated by the street light. The shadows on his face make him look kind of terrifying, expression impossible to read. But Mike swears that Jonathan is looking right at him. He weakly nods at him and gets back in the car.

Jane catches up to Will on the front porch, just as giddy and giggly as he feels on the inside, but tries not to show on the outside. He looks back at the car one more time as it's pulling out on the road, and walks inside.

The drive gets quiet from here. Lucas is loudly snoring in the front. Dustin is almost there, too. Mike's arms are crossed on his chest and he's looking out the window, unfocused. The absence of Will in his lap is almost physically painful. There is no music, just the hum of the engine, the asphalt crunching beneath the wheels and Steve tapping on the steering wheel.

"How was the beer?" Steve breaks the silence.

"Shit," everyone says at the same time. Even Lucas awakens from his sleep, lifting his head, then dropping it right back down.

"Okay," Steve says, offended. He blinks rapidly and his face scrunches.

"Where did you even get that?" Lucas mumbles, eyes still closed and eyebrows furrowed.

They keep arguing about the beer untill they pull up to the Wheeler house. Mike gets out immediately, giving everyone a weak 'bye'. He walks inside on wobbly legs. The house is dark and quiet. Even Ted is already upstairs. Mike goes to the kitchen, and without turning the lights on he pours himself a cup of water and downs the whole thing in one go.

His whole body feels tingly from the alcohol, the music, the dancing, and Will. He can't think about anything else, but Will. He thinks about Will as he goes upstairs into his room, changes into his inside clothes, and plops into bed. He felt sleepy before, but it's completely gone now.

The excitement feels like electric shocks throughout his body. He wants to jump up and down, kick his feet violently, bite his pillow, anything really to let out this energy. He has a permanent smile on his face. His cheeks are sore now. He rubs his face hard, trying to physically wipe the smile off, but it doesn't budge.

He loves Will. Will loves him. They are boyfriends now.

He reaches over to grab the walkie on his desk. He instinctively switches to the channel specifically for him and Will, and presses the button.

"Will, are you sleeping? Over."

Pause. Static, then a voice comes through.

"Not yet. I was waiting for you to get back home. Over."

Mike can hear Will smiling. His face feels hot. He presses the button again.

"Yeah?" Mike says, teasing.

"Shut up," Will grumbles, but Mike can hear a giggle before it cuts off.

"I just wanted to wish you goodnight," Mike whispers.

"You already did. At my house."

"Yeah, but I wanna say it again," Mike presses the walkie closer.

"Okay," Will says through a laugh. They both pause. "Go ahead, then."

"Right," Mike scrambles. He actually lost his train of thought for a second. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mike," Will's voice is as soft as ever. It makes Mike's insides flutter.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Obviously. Over and out."

It's static again. Mike presses his lips together and closes his eyes, savoring the moment. He places the walkie back and rolls on his side. He hoped that this would satisfy his excitement, let some of that energy out, but it actually made it much worse. He buries his face in his hands, it feels piping hot. How is he supposed to sleep like this?

Chapter Text

Mike barely slept. The morning sun cut through his window harshly, right over his eyes. When he woke up he could still feel the buzzing in his limbs from yesterday. Along with that came a dull headache. Mike only managed to prop himself up on his elbows, before dropping right back down on his pillow.

Eventually he climbed out of his bed, groaning to himself. He stretched his limbs slowly, every bone and muscle stiff. The walkie is still on his desk. Mike stares at it for a bit, fighting the urge to pick it up and call Will first thing in the morning. He weighs his options, and decides to leave that for later. Will might still be asleep. Mike would rather shoot himself than wake up Will. He also wonders how Will's voice would sound if he dared to do that.

Mike decides to shower first. He stood there for a while, eyes closed, letting the warm water run down his face. He hoped it could wash off his slight hangover, but it didn't help much. His face just became red. His head was both empty and cluttered.

Nancy was already downstairs in the kitchen, drinking her coffee and scribbling something in her notebook. Her face is concentrated, lips pressed together in a tight line. Her hair is wrapped in a towel, and she's still in her pajamas. Mike comes down, shuffles over to the cupboard and pulls out a cereal box and a bowl. He spills some of the cereal on the counter and doesn't bother cleaning it up. He adds milk, grabs a spoon and sets everything on the table, across from Nancy.

He clumsily lands on his chair, shaking the whole table a little. Nancy's eyes snap up at him. At first she's annoyed, then her gaze softens.

"Did you go to the party yesterday?" she asks, looking back down at her notes. Her voice is gentle.

"Yeah," Mike says quietly and nods, mid chewing.

"Good," Nancy nods more to herself than to Mike. "Had fun?"

"Yeah. Yeah. It was.. good," Mike mumbles, his brain still somewhere else.

"Did everyone get home okay?"

Mike closes his eyes in frustration. He does not have the energy for this right now. He nods instead, mixing the cereal around with his spoon.

"And how's Will?" Nancy continues, sipping her coffee. Something about her tone of voice is off.

Mike's eyes shoot up at her. She's already looking at him. Suddenly he feels nervous and his cheeks flush. He hopes it's not too different from his post shower flush. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times before properly forming a sentence. His eyes dart around the room nervously.

"He's good. He's great," he says a little too fast, voice a little too high. He shrugs about 5 times in a second. His throat feels sore all of a sudden, he clears it. "He.. Uh.. He's coming over today, if that's okay."

Mike suddenly sounds like he's 12 again, asking his mom permission to have a sleepover. He looks down. One of his legs is shaking slightly. Nancy furrows her brows in confusion.

"Why wouldn't it be okay?" she asks and chuckles.

"I don't know," Mike shrugs. "Just.. Just letting you know, I guess."

Mike puts another spoonful of cereal in his mouth to shut himself up. He wants to sink into his chair and disappear. What's with all the questions today? Usually they barely acknowledge each other at breakfast. Not out of malice or anything, just no need to, really. They usually just eat in each other's presence, maybe ask to pass the juice or let the other know about any upcoming plans. It's comfortable, peaceful.

"Thanks for letting me know, then?" Nancy adds, sounding a little confused.

She finishes her coffee and puts the mug in the sink. Then she walks back to the table to pick up her notebook. Before leaving, she stops next to Mike, and presses her palm on his shoulder. Firm, reassuring. Mike flinches from the unexpected touch. After a brief pause he turns to where Nancy was, but she already disappeared up the stairs. Mike turns back, staring into nothing, confused.

After breakfast Mike rushes back to his room and plops back into bed. He is on his stomach, face down, limbs spread. He sighs into the blanket, then stretches his arm to grab the walkie. That electricity is back. His fingers are almost shaking, eager to finally call Will. He has to be awake by now. Mike lifts his head just enough so that his speech isn't muffled by the blanket.

"Will, are you up? Over," he says into the walkie.

Pause. Static.

"Yeah," Will's voice comes through, deeper than usual.

Mike immediately starts smiling wide, cheeks aching and burning. He drops his head back down into the blanket, hiding the blush even though he is the only one in the room. Stupid idiot.

"Mike?" Will speaks up after a pause. Mike springs up immediately.

"Y- Yeah! I'm here. Sorry," Mike rambles into the walkie, voice wobbly. "Morning."

"Morning," Will chuckles. Just from his tone of voice it's clear that he's smiling wide, too.

"You're coming today, right?" Mike asks, finding a loose thread on his bedding and messing with it as he's talking.

"Obviously."

"When?" Mike turns and lays on his back, black curls falling around his head like a halo. On the other end Will hums for a few seconds, thinking.

"I'm not sure yet. I need to do my laundry still and clean up," Will whines. Mike can imagine the familiar pout.

"Will you be done in two hours?" Mike suggests, voice light.

"Probably, yeah."

"Okay," Mike breathes out and nods, even though Will can't see it. "See you later, then?"

"Yeah. See you," Will almost whispers.

They both linger, still on the channel, quiet. There is one more thing both of them want to say. Three words, to be exact. But it's too risky while their families are around. It's silent for a good ten seconds.

"Are you gonna hang up?" Will breaks the silence.

"I don't know," Mike mumbles, trying to tease but it doesn't really work. On the other end Will lets out a long sigh.

"I'll see you later, Mike. Over and out."

Click. Static again.

Mike lets out a long sigh that turns into a chuckle and covers his eyes with his arm. The giddy grin is permanently splitting his face. He shakes his head and puts the walkie back in its spot.

The two hours feel like eternity, but also fly by way too fast at the same time. At first Mike just laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling until his heartbeat slowed down to a more acceptable pace. Though it was still buzzing hard.

Then he looked around his room and frowned at the mess. Clothes piled up in the corner, both dirty and washed that he didn't have time to put away. His desk is all cluttered with comics, notes and even empty mugs that have been sitting there for a couple days.

Usually he wouldn't care. When Will comes over, they tend to hang out in the basement, and if they do end up in Mike's room, Will doesn't mind the mess. Or he doesn't show it, at least. He's seen this room in far worse state. Add old pizza boxes to the mix, clothes scattered all over the floor instead of just one corner, constantly undone bed. It's nothing new.

But now Mike feels embarrassed. Very embarrassed. He starts digging through the mess. Sorts the clothes, puts everything clean in his now way more spacious closet, throws everything dirty in the laundry basket. His desk was next. He puts the books and comics in a neat pile.

There are rough story drafts all over the place, no more than a few sentences long. He can't bring himself to throw them away in hopes that on some random day he might get his motivation back and turn them into something more. Instead he shoves them in a drawer. The empty mugs finally end up in the sink. Luckily he managed to avoid Karen on his way down.

Back upstairs, he makes the bed, fluffing up the pillows and smoothing out the blanket. Then as a final touch he cracks the window open, letting in the summer breeze. He's satisfied with his progress.

He looks in the mirror, and feels embarrassed again. His pajama shirt is old, the collar is all stretched out and there are a few stains that are a permanent part of the fabric at this point. Will has seen him in this shirt plenty of times, it shouldn't be a big deal, but it feels like it. Mike fishes out a fresh shirt out of his closet and changes into it.

The next problem is his hair. It's flat, and still stubbornly swooping to the side. Mike starts combing it out with his fingers, trying to recall how Will did it yesterday. The memory makes him all giddy and fluffy all over again. He bites down his smirk, but he can't stop the blush creeping up his neck.

Will's fingers tangled in his curls, gentle and careful. The sensation of Will's fingertips brushing against his forehead, soft and feather light. Just the memory makes Mike hold his breath. He regrets just standing there like a statue in that moment. He wishes he did more. Grabbed Will's waist, something. Deep down he wonders if it made Will's heart skip a beat just like his, or if it was just friendly touch.

He runs his fingers through his hair, pulls it forward, fluffs it up. It looks better, but definitely not as good as when Will did it. Will's hands were precise. Even though Mike didn't look at himself at the party, he's sure his hair looked perfect. Every curl laid out and positioned in the best way. Mike's work is sloppy. One particularly long and stubborn strand is poking his eye no matter how many times he brushes it away.

Before he knows it, he hears knocking downstairs. Like on instinct, he bursts out of his room, door almost slamming into the wall. He jumps down the stairs, skipping about half of them, stumbles at the bottom and almost falls flat on his face.

"I'll get it!" he screeches, even though literally no one is stopping him or competing for the door.

He grips the doorknob like his life depends on it, and swings it wide open. He's breathing hard and smiling wide, then he freezes when he meets eyes with Jonathan. The other is just as surprised.

"Oh- Um.. Hi," Mike stutters, shifting into a more casual pose. His voice cracks.

"Hi. You okay?" Jonathan says, sounding a little confused, and chuckles. He squints a little and tilts his head.

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm good. I'm great," Mike grips the doorframe so hard his knuckles go white. He feels so lightheaded from running to the door he might just fall over if he lets go. His voice is breathy and much higher than usual.

"Mike," Nancy says and taps Mike on the side, signaling to step away from the door. Mike does just that.

"Hey," Jonathan says to Nancy, voice softening immediately.

"Hi," Nancy says back just as soft. They're both smiling bright at each other.

Only then Mike notices Will next to Jonathan's car, closing the door. He has his sketchbook and pencil case tucked under his arm, his other hand quickly patting down his hair. He walks up to the house, looking down, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He slips by Nancy and Jonathan, giving Nancy a quick 'hi' without lifting his eyes.

Once he locks eyes with Mike, all his defenses crumble down. His lips stretch into the widest smile, and his cheeks light up in a second. He clutches his sketchbook closer, shifting on his feet.

Mike isn't much better. He grips the doorframe harder, if that's even possible. His head instinctively drops down, trying to hide his stupid smile, then he lifts it back up, unable to not look at Will for longer than 5 seconds.

"Hey," Will speaks up first. It almost turns into a giggle, but he catches it.

"Hey," Mike says back, biting his lip. Not seductively, like he does when he's nervous.

"I'll pick you up later?" Jonathan speaks up behind them. Will's head snaps towards him.

"Y- Yeah! Yeah. We'll probably just stay in the house the whole time," Will's eyes snap rapidly between Jonathan and Mike. He tries to keep his voice steady, but doesn't do a very good job.

"Yeah," Mike adds, and his voice cracks.

"Okay," Jonathan looks between the two and slowly nods. "See you later."

Nancy and Jon drive away, while Will finally walks in the house. Mike is nervous. He's hovering around, not sure how to stand or what to lean on. He feels like he's the one visiting someone else's house, and for the first time ever, at that. He watches Will take his shoes off, stand up and start walking towards the basement.

"Wait," Mike gently grabs Will's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He swallows hard. "We could.. We could go up to my room."

"Are you sure?" Will says quietly, shooting a glance towards the living room, where Ted was watching the TV.

"Yeah," Mike nods a few times. He squeezes Will's shoulder a little harder, and nods towards the stairs.

As they walk, they can hear Ted grumble something from his chair, but at this point it's just background noise. A few years ago Mike would've gotten annoyed, maybe made a comment, ranted to Will about it once they have privacy. Now he doesn't even flinch, doesn't scoff or sigh. No point in wasting energy.

Mike's hand hovers above Will's lower back, then once they get out of Ted's line of sight, he makes contact. It's light, casual, but sends electric shocks down his spine. He can feel Will relax into the touch.

"You cleaned up," Will comments once they reach Mike's room. He immediately goes and sits on the bed, like he always does. He crosses his legs and drops the sketchbook next to him.

"Yeah, a little bit," Mike mumbles, still hovering at the door.

That feeling again, like he's in someone else's space instead of his own room. He's shifting on his feet, his voice is wobbly and he's blushing so hard. He felt embarrassed about the mess, now he's embarrassed about cleaning up specifically for Will's arrival. And as a final blow, Will saw right through it.

"You okay?" Will speaks up because Mike is still leaning back against the door, too nervous to say anything. His tone is genuinely worried. Mike's head snaps up.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry," Mike sighs and rubs his face. "Just.. nervous, I guess."

"About what?" Will chuckles.

"You," Mike chuckles back. He finally peels his back off the door and sits on the edge of his bed, palms pressed to his knees.

"Me, too," Will shifts closer to him, knee pressed into Mike's thigh.

Mike slowly turns to him and meets his eyes. Will has that same dorky smile on his face and his cheeks are flushed up to the tips of his ears. His green eyes are sparkling, studying Mike's face with undeniable adoration. It makes Mike breathe out in relief, that he's not the only one unable to keep his nerves at bay.

"I missed you," he blurts out before he can overthink it. Will's nose scrunches and he tilts his head.

"I missed you, too," Will says, voice so soft and silky Mike wants to drown in it.

They just stare at each other for a bit, bodies buzzing with nerves and want. Eventually they both start giggling, all giddy and happy, but also nervous to make any wrong moves. Will leans in a little closer, bumping Mike's shoulder with his own. Testing the waters. Mike bumps back.

"Did you sleep okay?" Will asks. He leans in even closer, propping himself up with a hand behind Mike's back.

"Barely. Kept thinking about.. you. And us," Mike mumbles and turns away, trying to hide his blush.

"Me, too," Will giggles.

"We're dating," Mike says, barely above a whisper. He turns back towards Will, looking for his reaction.

"I know," Will nods, biting down his smile. "I still can't believe it."

"Me neither," Mike looks down. He carefully reaches over to Will's hand that was resting on his knee.

He doesn't connect their fingers yet, waiting for permission. He glances up at Will, who was looking down at their hands with a shy smile. Then he turns his hand, palm up, and Mike intertwines their fingers together, much more confident this time. Will glances up at him and they lock eyes.

"Do you- Um.. Do you wanna.. do anything?" Mike asks, unsure, scrunching his face and cringing at himself with every word.

"Like what?" Will tilts his head slightly.

"Like.. Go somewhere? Or.. I don't know, I feel like I have to take you somewhere, do something fun. If you want, obviously," Mike shrugs. His speech is scrambled, he's barely pausing between words and he's nervously bunching the fabric of the blanket in between his fingers. He shuts up when he hears Will giggle.

"It's barely been a day, Mike. It's okay," Will squeezes Mike's hand, soothing. "We have plenty of time to do that."

"Right. Sorry," Mike looks down and shakes his head. "I just.. I don't wanna mess this up, you know?"

"I know," Will nods, even though Mike can't see it. He quirks his eyebrows up. "I have no idea how all of this works."

"I feel like I don't, either," Mike lets out a dry laugh. He's gently rubbing Will's knuckles with his thumb.

"We can figure it out together," Will leans down to meet Mike's gaze. His eyebrows are pulled together, making his eyes appear even bigger and shinier than they already are. Mike nods. "Just.. do what feels natural. I think?"

Mike laughs at the way Will's face scrunches. He breathes out, leans closer and leaves a quick peck on the tip of Will's nose. He covers his face with his hand and plops back on the mattress. Will follows shortly after, the bed creaking under their shared weight. They look at the ceiling for a bit, hands still connected. It's quiet, except for their rapid hearts.

"Look," Will speaks up. Mike turns to him, studying his profile as he speaks. "This is all very new to me. Kissing, holding hands, going on dates. Just dating in general."

His voice is silky smooth, with some raspy notes that Mike loves so much. His eyes linger on the slope of Will's nose, his long eyelashes, the mole above his lip. Then Will turns towards him, meeting his eyes. Mike forgets how to breathe for a second. Will's hair spills to the side, pressed against the blanket. Mike instinctively reaches out and pushes a few strands out of Will's eye. Will smiles wider at that.

"We don't have to go on dates all the time, or be all over each other constantly. I think I might actually explode if we do that," Will squints and laughs. Mike laughs back. Will sighs, and his face relaxes. "I just love being with you. Even if we're just sitting in the same room without saying anything. Just.. having you with me is enough."

"Me, too," Mike eagerly nods back. Will chuckles and turns away, now too shy to hold eye contact. Mike props himself up on his elbow and leans over Will. His voice goes quiet. "I'm still gonna take you out on a date, though. At some point."

"You better," Will teases.

Another stretch of silence. Mike's eyes bounce all over Will's face. The beauty marks, every eyelash, his eyebrows, eventually landing on his lips. Mike lingers there, and he licks his own lips without even realizing. He looks up to meet Will's eyes again, but the other boy is focused on something else. It takes Mike a few seconds to put it together. Will is looking at his lips right now. Mike takes a shallow breath.

"Can I kiss you-"

Before Mike can finish, Will lifts himself up and kisses him. His hand slides into the back of Mike's hair like it belongs there, pressing him closer. Mike practically melts into the touch, closing his eyes and turning his head to get a better angle. For a split second he nearly falls flat on Will from how relaxed he feels, but then props himself up again.

It doesn't last long, maybe a few seconds, but it feels infinite. Mike's limbs are buzzing with excitement. He can feel that he needs to pull back and breathe, but doesn't want to. He wouldn't mind dying like this. But before he can do that, Will pulls back.

His hand is still tangled in Mike's curls. Their foreheads are pressed together, they're both panting and silently giggling. Mike sits up a little straighter, arm too tired from holding himself up. So does Will, returning into his previous position with his legs crossed. Their cheeks are flushed and lips still glistening. Mike shoots a glance to the side, where Will's sketchbook lays.

"Can I see?" he asks innocently, just like he did when they were kids. Will follows his gaze to the sketchbook.

"Yeah," Will says, flustered.

Mike practically crawls over to the book and carefully picks it up, mindful of Will's belongings. He sits at the head of the bed, sketchbook open in his lap. Will sits right next to him, their shoulders firmly pressed together.

"Anything you're working on?" Mike asks, looking at Will with big eyes. Will pulls his knees up to his chest, flustered.

"Not really. I've just been trying to draw more, without overthinking. It's mostly just random stuff. Sketches and doodles. They're not that great," Will furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head. Always downplaying his talents.

The sketchbook is filled about halfway through. Mike is amazed at how much Will's style has changed from what he last remembers. It's so much more refined now, some sketches are almost photorealistic, at least in Mike's inexperienced eyes. Will did not lie about it being 'random stuff'. There are vaguely human shaped figures on a lot of pages. 'Pose practice', as Will said.

A few of the pages are dedicated to Jane's crafts. A wobbly plate she made when she first tried pottery. An almost perfectly symmetrical vase when she got more into it. A lot of bracelets, including the ones she made for the entire Party. Her hair clips, her room. Everything captured in loose strokes of a pencil.

Some of the sketches are just shapes. Even Will can't recall what they were supposed to turn into. He also drew lots of random objects. Water bottles, his lava lamp, walkie, pens. Those were a little more refined. Will drew these mostly before bed, when he could take all the time he needed and add details.

There are lots of sketches that vaguely resemble their friends. Lucas and Max cuddled up on a couch. Dustin making a silly face. Max with different haircuts. 'When she wasn't sure how long to cut it', as Will explained. Jane from behind with a beautiful braid. Lucas laying in grass. Jane in a few different outfits. 'She couldn't decide', Will said.

Mike can recall all the times during their hangouts when Will would sit to the side, completely focused on his sketchbook. Mike was curious, but never got to see the results until now. Then he pouts.

"And where am I?" he stretches, gesturing at the sketchbook. Will rolls his eyes playfully.

"Not in this one," he says, teasing.

"Oh, so there's a different one?" Mike wiggles his eyebrows and leans closer.

"Shut up," Will shoves Mike in the shoulder and takes the sketchbook back.

"Can I see that one at some point?"

"Maybe," Will says after a brief pause.

"These are incredible, by the way," Mike says with genuine adoration in his voice, tapping the sketchbook cover with his finger.

"They're really not," Will rolls his eyes again, still smiling and blushing.

"Can you just take a compliment?" Mike grumbles, leaning all the way into Will's space, pressing his nose into his cheek.

"I mean it! They're just.. They're just doodles. The whole point is that I don't try too hard, and just draw whatever comes to mind," Will rambles, voice going higher. Mike shuts him up with a quick kiss to the lips. Then another one. And another one.

"They're still amazing, Will," Mike mumbles in between kisses, now moving to Will's cheek.

"Mike, get off me!" Will says, giggling.

"Just say 'thank you'," Mike presses one last kiss to Will's cheek and pulls away.

"Thank you, Mike," Will says flatly, trying to sound unamused but failing miserably. His giddy smile and flush cheeks blow his cover.

"I mean it, Will," Mike's voice switches from playful to sincere. He wants to make sure Will knows. "You are the most talented person I know. I don't know how you do it. You're amazing."

He looks at Will and sees his green eyes filled with tears. Will huffs and slowly nods, acknowledging what Mike said, but holding back from crying. Mike understands, and kisses him on the cheek again.

They spend the next hour in comfortable silence. Will is at the head of the bed, knees pulled up, sketchbook propped up on them, sketching away. He is concentrated, biting down on his lip, glancing between the paper and Mike.

Meanwhile Mike is laying on his stomach, feet in the air, reading a comic. He has to reread the same parts over and over again because he just can't focus fully. He can feel Will's glances on him, and secretly hopes that it's because he's drawing him. He's subconsciously trying to pose. Keeps his face relaxed, even though he wants to squint so bad, the letters in the comic blurring together. He keeps his posture relatively straight, and tries not to move too much.

At one point Will stops scribbling, sighs and puts the sketchbook away, rubbing his sore eyes. Mike jumps up immediately, closing his comic without even marking the page. He wasn't that into it, anyway.

"Can I see?" he sits up and looks at Will with eager eyes. If he had a tail, it would be wagging at the speed of light.

"Sure," Will shrugs and hands the sketchbook over, smirking.

Mike grabs it, opens it backwards and upside down, turns it the correct way. He flips a few pages, eager and excited, then his face drops. He pauses.

"Is that my foot?" he asks, voice completely flat.

On the page is a sketch of his foot, covered with a worn sock he's wearing right now, a little too detailed. Even down to where the fabric has thinned on his heel. Mike looks at it for a bit, then shoots up a glance at Will, who is covering his mouth with his hand. He's trying so hard not to laugh, but fails with a loud snort spilling into a belly laugh.

"You are so mean," Mike tries to sound hurt, but he can't stop the smile spreading on his face, eventually laughing, too.

"Flip the page," Will says in between laughs, wiping actual tears from the corners of his eyes.

Mike shoots him a questioning look, then does as he's told. His face relaxes immediately. There was a sketch of his side profile. It wasn't as detailed as the foot, but still very good and recognisable. He can easily make out the slope of his nose, the curve of his eyebrow, his jawline, his curls. One strand on the top of his head is sticking up like an antenna. It was a lot more defined than the rest of the hair. Mike reaches up and pats it down while Will isn't looking.

"You draw me more handsome than I am in real life," Mike says after admiring the sketch for a good two minutes.

"I don't think that's true," Will whispers, tilting his head.

They both smile, turning away from each other to hide that fact. Mike lets out a loud sigh, gently closes the sketchbook and hands it over to its owner. He feels so silly inside. How could he be so blind for so long? He could've had this so much sooner, if only he wasn't so goddamn scared. Of himself, of opening up, of the judgement.

He leans closer, brushing Will's nose with his own. Will's hand slips on his shoulder, almost like instinct. They slowly move in closer, savoring the moment. They can feel each other's breath on their lips.

"Mike! Are you there? Over."

Dustin's voice comes through the walkie, loud and high pitched. It startles the two so bad that they jump and bump their foreheads together, so hard the pain sends Mike flying back. They both hiss, rubbing their foreheads with their palms. It takes a second for Mike's brain to get back in place. Annoyed, he reaches for the walkie.

"I'm here. What is it? Over," Mike grumbles, trying not to sound annoyed but failing.

"I'm coming over. Over," Dustin's voice is determined. He's not asking, he's stating a fact.

"What?" Mike sits up so fast his vision blurs for a second.

"You didn't say over."

"Dustin," Mike groans and taps the walkie against his temple out of frustration. He presses his lips together, physically holding back a flow of curses. His eyes are shut tight. He sighs. "Fine. Over."

"Do you know where Will is? I've been trying to call him, but he's not answering. Over."

There's a pause. Mike looks up at Will, a silent question within his eyes. Will, still rubbing his forehead, gives him a nod. Mike nods back, and brings the walkie back to his mouth.

"Will is here, actually. Over."

"Of course he is," Dustin says flatly after a long sigh. Mike shoots another questioning look to Will, who can only shrug in response. "Hey, Will. Over."

"Hey," Will stretches from across the bed, smiling. Mike brought the walkie closer to him.

"When are you coming? Over," Mike brings the walkie back to himself.

"Did you say over? Over," Dustin asks after a pause.

"Goddamnit, Dustin," Mike groans, genuinely about to throw the walkie into the wall. Dustin chuckles on the other end.

"I had to. Anyway, I don't know when. Just be home. Over and out."

Mike opens his mouth to protest, but it's just static talking back to him. He closes his eyes, roughly pushes the antenna back down and slams the walkie onto the desk. Will is chuckling.

"Dick," Mike breathes out.

"That was pretty funny," Will adds, and he laughs harder when Mike's head snaps towards him with a blank expression.

"Since when does everyone just show up at my house like that?" Mike grumbles, crawling back to the head of the bed. He gives a quick peck to Will's forehead, right on the red mark he got because of Dustin.

At some point they moved downstairs, to the living room. Ted for once got out of his chair and migrated to the bedroom. They're sitting on the couch. Mike's limbs are spread all over the place. Legs wide, one arm is on the armrest, the other on the back behind Will's head. Will is sitting more politely, one leg bent over the other. Their knees are touching.

They were supposed to be watching TV to kill some time while waiting for Dustin, but at this point they're just talking and not paying any attention to whatever show is on right now.

"She wants to try crocheting, too. Mom bought her some yarn, even took apart her old sweater because it's the exact color she needs," Will goes on about Jane and her various hobbies. Jane finds a new thing to try every week pretty much.

"Is it, like, with the needles?" Mike imitates movements of what he thinks is crocheting.

"No, that's knitting," Will says through a laugh. "Crocheting is with a hook."

"Ah," Mike opens his mouth and nods. He has zero clue what Will is talking about.

"She wants to make something for Dustin. Maybe a plushie, or a beanie. Something small to start," Will says with a fond smile. Mike shifts in his seat a little.

"So," he clears his throat. "Her and Dustin, how long have they.."

"Like, three months, I think? Maybe four?" Will frowns, thinking. "Yeah, I think four at this point."

"I see," Mike nods to himself.

"Did you actually not know?" Will raises an eyebrow. Mike just looks at him, not saying anything. Will sighs. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

Mike's first instinct is to protest, get defensive. That's when he ends up saying things he doesn't mean and hurting people around him. He opens his mouth, closes it, and swallows.

"Yeah," he says instead. Will gives him a sympathetic look. "Now that I look at it, though.. It makes sense."

"Right?" Will sits up, face bright.

"I mean, good luck to him dealing with Hopper," Mike almost shudders. Will hums.

"Hop actually really likes him," Will's voice is light, and he shrugs, looking somewhere at the ceiling. Mike's head snaps towards him.

"You're joking."

"No," Will shrugs again and holds back a laugh. "They've gone on fishing trips together, fixed our furniture, Dustin comes over a lot. He even joins us for movie night on Fridays."

Will is counting everything with his fingers, face bright. Meanwhile Mike's face is scrunched up, offended. His mouth is open in silent protest, but he doesn't interrupt. Will keeps going down the long list of how much better of a son in law Dustin is than Mike.

"Oh, but he hates when Dustin starts talking over the movie," Will finishes. He looks at Mike, looking all innocent like he didn't do this on purpose.

"Great," Mike nods, face still scrunched up. "Love that. For him."

That's when they hear a knock on the door. It's loud and quick, and they both immediately know it's gotta be Dustin.

"Come in!" Mike screeches from the couch, tilting his head back over the cushions, too lazy to get up.

He purposefully left the door unlocked. It swings open, and Dustin steps in, as bright as ever. Right behind him is Max, skateboard tucked under her arm.

"Hey there!" Dustin stretches. He's so energetic, it's like he didn't drink at all last night.

"What the hell?" Mike grumbles at Max. Still not getting up from the couch, just tilting his head further back until he has an upside down view of the front door. "Why do you guys keep showing up here unannounced?"

"Hey, I warned you," Dustin protests, hand in the air. Then he points at Max. "She was already on her way here."

"My question remains," Mike grumbles.

"I got pizza, so shut up," Max shoots back, bringing two pizza boxes into Mike's view.

Mike shuts his mouth immediately and stands up. He takes the boxes from Max so she can tug her shoes off and put her skateboard against the wall. Meanwhile Dustin reaches into his bag and pulls out a gaming console, as his apology for showing up on short notice. Mike immediately forgets all his complaints.

"Is Lucas coming?" Will asks as they're walking down into the basement.

"No, he's sick," Max says, plopping onto the couch. "Said he just wants to sleep all day."

"Is it from the drinks?" Will asks, sitting down next to her.

"He just kept drinking, it was insane!" Dustin joins in on the conversation, setting up the console. "I tried to call him today. I swear I've never heard him curse this much before."

"Hope he gets better," Will's face scrunches.

"He'll be fine. I got him some meds, Erica will make sure he takes them," Max shrugs.

Meanwhile, Mike sets the pizza boxes on the coffee table. He peels one of the pieces away, cheese stretching, and hands it over to Will. Will mouths a 'thank you' to him. Then Mike grabs another piece for himself, and sits down next to Will, brushing their knees.

"Rude," Max says, glancing over at Mike.

"You have legs, do you not?" Mike grumbles, already chewing on his piece.

"Alright! Who wants to go first?" Dustin says once he's done with the console, controller in hand.

____

Mike isn't sure how much time has passed. They have each played at least one round on the console. The pizza boxes are nearly empty, just two cheesy slices left, but they're cold at this point so no one even wants to eat them anymore. Right now Max and Will are playing a racing game, Max ahead by a few points.

Mike's face is propped up on his hand, eyes watching Will's back. He feels a little tired. The lost hours of sleep are slowly catching up to him. For some reason Dustin and Max didn't think to bring any drinks, and Mike could really use one right now. He slowly gets up, joints cracking from barely moving.

"I'll go get something to drink. Anyone want anything?" Mike mumbles, pointing towards the staircase.

"Water," Max says, eyes fixed on the screen.

"Me, too," Will follows, glancing over at Mike before turning back to the screen. He crashes in game and sighs.

"I'll go with you," Dustin breathes out, getting up.

Mike doesn't protest. He just nods and they both go upstairs. It's already getting dark outside, and the kitchen is dimmed. Mike turns the light on, walks to the cupboard and grabs a few mugs. One of them is Nancy's, but he doesn't care about that right now. Dustin goes to the fridge, and finds a few cans of soda.

"Can I have one?" he asks with a can already in hand.

"Yeah, man," Mike nods and starts filling up the cups with water. He pauses, then turns to Dustin. "Actually, get me one, too."

Dustin reaches back into the fridge, grabs another can and hands it to Mike. Mike gives him a quick 'thanks'. A silence stretches between them, only broken by the sound of running water. Mike is focused on filling the mugs, and once he's done he notices Dustin fidgeting with his can, looking at him.

"You alright?" Mike asks.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. Something important," Dustin says, voice serious.

"Uh, yeah. Of course," Mike tenses up. He leans back on the counter, gripping it hard.

"We're great friends, right?"

"Yeah," Mike says cautiously.

"And we've been through hell and back together," Dustin looks as serious as ever.

"Yeah," Mike's grip tightens.

"You are very important to me, and I don't want things to get weird in the group, okay?" Dustin furrows his brows. Mike audibly swallows. It's kind of painful.

"Yeah. You are very important to me, too," Mike says. The words feel like they're getting physically stuck in his throat. He tries to smile.

"Okay, I'll just say it," Dustin rubs his face and takes a deep breath.

Mike feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest. His fingers are gripping onto the counter so hard it might actually crack.

"I like Jane. A lot."

Dustin's voice is firm, confident. Mike wishes he could be this good at talking. The words linger in the air, finally settling in his brain. Mike pauses for a few seconds, then sighs in relief. His shoulders slump, and he releases his grip on the counter. His fingers ache. He chuckles to himself and catches Dustin's surprised face.

"You okay?" Dustin asks carefully.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry," Mike rubs his face and nods. "I thought you were gonna say something else."

"Like what?"

"It's.. Nothing. Nevermind," Mike waves his hand, like he's waving the anxious thoughts away. Then he remembers what the conversation is actually about. "I know. About you and Jane, I mean."

"You do?" Dustin sounds genuinely surprised. Mike gives him an offended scoff in response.

"Of course I do! I'm not that oblivious!" Mike throws his hands up in the air. Dustin looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay.. And you're.. cool with it?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Mike chuckles.

"Well, she is your ex girlfriend," Dustin rolls his eyes. "A lot of people would find it weird if their friend started dating their ex."

"I'm not one of them," Mike shrugs, then pauses. His eyebrows furrow. "Hold on. Are you two dating?"

"N- No! Not yet," Dustin stutters. His cheeks go a little red. He sighs. "I'm working on it."

"Uh.. Good luck? I guess?" Mike cringes at himself and shuts his eyes.

"Thanks, man," Dustin smiles.

Mike steps forward and pulls Dustin into a hug. They wrap their arms around each other's shoulders, pressing close. They stay like that for a bit. Then Dustin pats Mike on the back and pulls away.

"Come on. They must be dying of thirst down there," Mike says, grabbing the mugs. His hands are full, and Dustin comes to the rescue, grabbing the rest of the drinks.

Mike feels light and relieved. He almost had a panic attack back there. Dustin's words were so vague at first, making Mike's thoughts travel to so many different possible outcomes.

'I don't want things to get weird in the group, okay?'

Those specific words really struck him, playing on loop. Dustin's cautious tone of voice, serious expression. Mike's thoughts immediately shifted to Will and their very fresh relationship. For a second there he thought that Dustin somehow knew, and if he knew, then the rest of the Party probably knew, too. Mike doesn't remember the last time he internally panicked like that.

The rest of the evening flies by smoothly. Eventually everyone got tired of playing, instead spreading throughout the basement and just talking. About how they handled their hangovers, possible summer jobs, plans for the week, the games they were playing earlier, funny stories from school.

"We should go to the lake," Max says, laying flat on the floor. Everyone's ears perk up at the idea. "Maybe next week? Let the water warm up?"

"I'm in," Dustin says, barely letting Max finish.

"Me, too," Will adds excitedly.

"Wheeler?" Max lifts her head to look at Mike. His hand was already raised.

"Yeah, I'm in," he says, voice light and casual.

"Good," Max nods and drops her head back down. Her lips stretch into a little smile.

It's already dark outside. The sky is a deep blue, the air is chilly. Mike stands up and claps his hands, urging Max and Dustin to leave. They get up from the floor, muscles sore. They go up the stairs, and Will is about to follow them.

"Hey, Will," Mike speaks up, stopping Will in his tracks. Will turns around, confused. "Can you, uh.. Help me here?"

Mike's voice is high and wobbly. He furrows his eyebrows, trying to come up with what to say as he goes. Will catches on immediately, chuckling. He nods and walks towards Mike.

"What do you need help with?" he says sarcastically.

Mike shoots a glance at the door, waits until Dustin is out of the view, and gently grabs Will's hand. Will immediately squeezes his hand back. Mike leans in closer, still careful. He glances at the door again. It's closed. He reaches up and cups Will's cheek.

"Can I kiss you?" Mike asks quietly, barely above a whisper.

"You don't have to keep asking that," Will whispers back, smiling. Mike just looks at him. "Yes, you can."

Mike closes the distance and connects their lips. It's a quick peck, the panic from earlier still lingering somewhere deep in his stomach. Will melts into the touch, fully closing his eyes. His hand slid up to the back of Mike's neck. Mike keeps one eye slightly open, watching the door. It only lasts a few seconds, and Mike pulls back, panting. He leans down to Will's ear, nose buried in the brown fluffy hair.

"I love you," he whispers, words mostly air.

Will doesn't respond, still delirious from the kiss. He huffs and nods, cheeks glowing and smiling wide. Mike chuckles at the view. Then he turns to the coffee table. There are empty mugs and cans all over the place, as well as the greasy pizza boxes.

"I do need your help, though," Mike says, pointing at the mess.

Upstairs Max and Dustin are at the front door, shoes on, quietly talking about something. They pause when they see Mike and Will emerge from the basement, trash and mugs in hand. Mike throws all the trash away, while Will puts the mugs in the sink and even rinses them before Mike can stop him.

"Took you long enough," Max is rocking on her heels, getting impatient.

"Shut up," Mike grumbles and hugs her. Then he hugs Dustin, who squeezes him so tight he can barely breathe.

"I love you, man," Dustin whispers.

"Yeah. You, too," Mike wheezes, patting Dustin on the back.

"You're not coming?" Max asks Will as he pulls her into a firm but gentle hug. He shakes his head into her shoulder.

"Jonathan is picking me up. At some point," he furrows his brows a little. It is pretty late now.

Everyone hugs, and Dustin and Max leave. Dustin on his bike, Max on her skateboard. Mike closes the door and lets out a long sigh. Will stands behind him, shifting on his feet.

"Jonathan's taking a while," Mike says.

"Yeah," Will nods. "And Nancy's still with him, right?"

"Has to be," Mike turns to face him. Their faces shift into suspicious expressions.

"Are we sure they broke up?" Will tilts his head.

"Are they sure they broke up?" Mike says sarcastically.

They both laugh. They end up back on the living room couch, not even bothering to turn the TV on this time. For about half an hour they just talk, knocking their knees and pressing their shoulders together. Then they hear a key in the door and shut up immediately. The door clicks and slowly opens.

Nancy is the first one to walk in. Her hair is a little messed up, cheeks flushed and she looks like she's sneaking in. Holly comes in afterwards, tired and sleepy after staying at a friend's house the whole day. She tugs her shoes off in two seconds and disappears up the stairs. Nancy sees the light coming from the living room and straightens out. Her and Mike lock eyes.

"Oh, you two are already here," she says, a little nervous. Jonathan walks in right behind her, eyes looking for Will.

"Hey," Jon waves.

Will quickly glances at Mike and gets off the couch. He's about to start putting his shoes on, then stops.

"I need my-"

"I'll get it," Mike interrupts, and before Will can respond, he's already zooming up the the stairs.

Will's sketchbook is still on the bed, right where he left it. Mike grabs it and the pencil case, then he gets an idea. He opens the book, flips to the very last page, grabs a pencil and writes a small 'I love you' with a crooked heart next to it. He tries erasing it to make it better, but ends up messing it up again. He gives up and closes the book.

Mike runs down, Will's belongings tucked tightly under his arm, and hands them over. Will purposefully brushes their fingers as he's grabbing his things. Mike notices, trying very hard to not smirk. They hug, pressing together tightly. Then Mike feels taps on his shoulder, and recognizes the pattern.

I-L-O-V-E-U

His cheeks flush and he bites down his smile. They reluctantly separate, trying not to look at each other too much. Will presses the sketchbook to his chest with a shy smile.

"Goodnight," he says quietly.

"Night," Mike nods rapidly and clears his throat. Then he locks eyes with Jonathan. He's watching him intently, and Mike isn't sure if it's threatening or loving.

"Bye," Jonathan says, and the Byers brothers walk out the door.

Mike closes it behind them and sighs. Nancy is in the kitchen, grumbling about her cup being used without her permission. She fills it with water and takes a few big gulps. Mike stands in the doorway, not sure what to do.

"You guys had fun today?" Nancy asks.

"Yeah," Mike nods and crosses his arms. He's trying to keep his voice casual. "Max and Dustin stopped by, too."

"Good," Nancy nods and smiles. She looks to the side, lost in thought.

They both pause, and after about ten seconds Mike decides it's a good time for him to leave. He turns around and has time to take one single step before Nancy speaks again.

"Hey, Mike?" her voice sounds worried.

"Yeah?" Mike turns around, eyebrows raised.

"You know I'm always there for you, right?" Nancy's eyebrows pull together, forming a wrinkle in the middle. She intently studies Mike's face.

"Yeah, I know," Mike says quietly and nods.

"I mean it."

"I know," Mike looks down and shifts on his feet. His knees feel a little weak all of a sudden. "I'm.. I'm always there for you, too."

"I know," Nancy chuckles. Mike can hear she's holding back tears, which makes his own eyes fill up. Still looking down, he turns around.

"Goodnight."

His voice wobbles. He hears a quiet 'goodnight' in response and walks to his room. He closes the door and leans back against it. One tear escapes him, running down his cheek, and he quickly wipes it off. Mike feels overwhelmed and emotional. He hasn't felt like that in a while.

The past year and a half has been a blur. He can barely recall anything that has happened besides a few good days. For the most part he has been numb, moving pretty much on autopilot. Wake up, eat, go to school, hang out with friends, come home, stare at the ceiling, sleep, repeat.

The nightmare is over, and they're finally allowed to move on, live normal lives, but Mike just can't get used to that fact. He has been terrified for his and his loved ones' lives for years, and now that he doesn't have to feel that way, he's lost. Everything is different now. They're adults, about to leave their childhoods behind and start over. It terrifies him.

What if they move away and lose each other forever? Find better people, better lives and leave Hawkins and everything to do with it behind? Leave Mike behind? The thought terrifies him to his core. He feels like he's the only one who just can't move forward, frozen in place. They do still have the whole summer ahead of them, but what about after?

The panic sets back in again. His heart is beating, a new wave of tears is forming in his eyes. The static from the walkie breaks him out of it.

"Mike? Are you there? Over."

Will.

His voice is quiet, like he's trying to be sneaky. Mike practically runs over to his desk and grabs the walkie. His hands are shaking.

"I'm here. Over," his voice shakes a little.

"Hi," Will giggles. "Just wanted to say goodnight."

"You already did," Mike lets out a wet chuckle and sniffs.

"You okay?" Will immediately picks up on it. Of course.

"Yeah, just tired," Mike shrugs to himself.

"Okay, well.. Goodnight, then," Will doesn't sound convinced, but doesn't press further.

"Goodnight," Mike smiles, blushing.

Click. Static.

Mike closes his eyes and sighs. His eyelids burn, he can feel the dried tears on his cheeks. He feels exhausted and drained. Outside the door he can hear the stairs creaking, steps approaching his room. They pause at his door, then continue to Nancy's room a little further down the hallway. The door opens, then closes. Nancy is back in her room. Mike lets out a shaky sigh, rubs his face as if to physically wipe the panic off. He turns the lights off and tries to fall asleep.

___

A few days have passed since then. It's Sunday, the sun is shining bright, birds are chirping. It feels like a commercial. Mike and Lucas are at the mall, looking for a gift for Max. Lucas got his first paycheck for mowing the neighbors' lawn, and he wants to get her something special. They've been at it for about an hour. Mike is exhausted and sweaty, barely keeping up with Lucas' fast pace.

"Okay. Dude, please," Mike wheezes. He speeds up with all the strength he has and firmly grabs Lucas by the shoulder, stopping him.

Mike leans forward, hands on his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath. His bangs are sticking to his forehead, soaked with sweat. His cheeks are glowing red, and he feels like he might just drop dead right here. Lucas looks at him and nods.

"Sorry," he says, patting Mike's sweaty back.

Mike sits on a bench, resting. Lucas went somewhere on his own, giving Mike a firm 'stay here', as if Mike has the strength to do literally anything right now. He's gone for a little while. Mike looks around, staring at random people without meaning to. It's loud, there are way too many people around him and the sun is practically boiling him alive.

Suddenly he feels something cold press against his cheek. He flinches, then locks eyes with Lucas, holding two milkshakes. Mike's face relaxes and he snatches the milkshake away, feeling relieved.

"They didn't have vanilla," Lucas says, sitting down next to Mike, sipping on his own milkshake.

"I really don't give a shit right now," Mike mumbles between gulps. It's strawberry.

The cold slowly spreads throughout his body, and he feels alive again. The flush on his cheeks goes down slightly, and he sighs with relief.

Eventually they get back to shopping, at a much slower pace this time. Lucas is scratching his head, still unable to make up his mind on the gift. Mike is slowly sipping on his milkshake. Now that he's not desperate to cool down, he's not enjoying the strawberry liquid as much. On the second floor the two bump into Max, Jane and Will. Mike's ears perk up.

"You said you had practice," Max says to Lucas, suspicious.

"Well, it is.. over," Lucas mumbles, hugging her tight and giving her a peck on the lips. She still looks suspicious. He gives her his milkshake. "It's caramel."

Jane waves at Mike, and they give each other a quick side hug. Then he locks eyes with Will. Mike is suddenly very aware of how gross and sweaty he must look right now. He runs his hand through his hair, tugs at his shirt to unstick it from his sweaty body, and rubs his cheek.

Will doesn't seem to mind. His bangs are also damp and sticking to his forehead, his cheeks are flushed, though that could also be because of Mike. They look at each other for a second, smiling like dorks. Then Mike snaps out of it and tilts his milkshake towards Will.

"You want this?" he asks.

"Yeah, sure," Will says, voice high. He nods a few times and takes a little sip, while Mike is still holding the cup.

Mike watches him, studying his face. The way his eyes light up when the strawberry flavor hits him. The shy smile that spreads on his face. Will straightens out and nods.

"That's good," he looks at Mike with sparkling eyes.

"You can have it," Mike immediately hands the cup over. Their fingers brush for a second.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm full, anyway," Mike shrugs, then quickly glances at their friends, deep in conversation. He turns back to Will. "What are you guys up to?"

"Jane needs a swimsuit," Will says and takes a long sip of the milkshake.

"Found anything?"

"Still looking," Will shakes his head and furrows his eyebrows slightly. "Everything is so expensive!"

"Yeah," Mike chuckles and bites down his smirk. He can't help but smile when Will gets all animated, complaining about something.

Will goes on about every store they went to, how they either sold the ugliest swimsuits known to man, or they had the most perfect pieces that Jane imagined, all for a price of an arm and a leg. Mike nods along, not looking away from him for even a second. That goes on for a good two minutes, until they both notice that their friends are quiet, looking at them.

"What?" Mike asks flatly.

"Nothing," Max shrugs, but her expression is clearly saying something else. She turns to Will. "You coming, or do you wanna stay with these dorks?"

Mike's face scrunches, offended. He opens his mouth in protest, but gets interrupted by Jane's giggling. Will panics for a second, glancing quickly between Mike and Max.

"I'm coming," he finally says, giving one last glance to Mike, who pouts slightly.

Will is still sipping on the milkshake. As him and the girls are walking away, he turns back to Mike and gives him a little smile. Mike can't help but smile back. His fingers twitch with how much he wants to hug him and touch him and hold him and kiss him. Lucas gives him a long look, up and down. A habit he's picked up from Max.

"You good?" he asks, snapping Mike out of his trance.

"Yeah," Mike's head snaps towards Lucas. "Let's just.. get this over with. I'm tired."

___

Lucas ends up buying Max some stickers to put on her skateboard, a nice shirt with one of her favorite bands, sunglasses he thought would match her eyes perfectly, and her favorite sweets. He couldn't decide on just one thing. They bike back to Lucas' house to drop everything off. On their way there they got a call from Dustin, inviting them to the field to hang out.

The sun is lower now, it's not boiling hot anymore, and Mike doesn't feel like he's gonna die, so he tags along. When they arrive, the Party is already there with snacks and drinks. They're sitting on the grass, bikes not too far away from them.

Jane and Dustin are sitting together, talking and giggling. Max and Will are sitting across from them, having their own conversation. Will is picking at the grass with his fingers. He starts smiling once he locks eyes with Mike.

"Got everything you needed?" Max asks Lucas when he drops down next to her, one arm immediately wrapping around her waist.

"Yup," he says and smiles at her. He leans down and kisses her.

Mike carefully sits down next to Will, bumping his shoulder with his own. Will reciprocates. Mike leans back, propping himself up with his hands, one landing close to Will's lower back. Will leans into the touch.

"Hey," Mike whispers, studying Will's profile.

"Hey," Will says back, glancing over at him before looking back down.

They have to be careful. Biting down their smiles, hiding their glowing cheeks, choosing what touch is okay and what isn't. Will looks over at Lucas and Max with a note of envy in his eyes.

The time flies by quickly. The sky has turned into a mix of oranges and pinks, like someone spilled watercolor paint all over it. Dustin is now laying flat on the grass. Jane has moved closer to Max, talking about their plans for tomorrow. Lucas is also laying down, eyes closed, almost asleep. Mike and Will are mostly silent, eating the snacks and sipping the drinks.

It's peaceful. There are people around them going on about their lives. Some are walking their dogs, others are playing football or having their own picnics. Then suddenly the peace gets disrupted. A football flies right in the middle of their little circle, knocking over the drinks. Will gets splashed, leaving his light shirt with a very big and visible stain. Everyone gasps.

"Sorry!" someone screams from across the field.

Max gets up, grabs the ball and kicks it with all the anger she has. Dustin, cursing under his breath, starts fixing the knocked over drinks. Some of their food landed in the grass, Lucas picks it up and sets it aside in one pile. Mike jumps up and starts frantically checking on Will.

"I'm okay," Will pats Mike on the chest a few times. He tugs at his shirt. It's sticky and cold. He shudders.

"That was rude," Jane grumbles, giving the strangers across the field a death stare.

"It was an accident," Will waves it off and stands up. His legs feel a little sore from sitting for so long. "I'll go change and come back."

"I'll go with you," Mike shoots up on his feet. Will looks at him for a second, taken aback.

"Sure. Okay," Will's voice goes high and he nods a little too fast.

The Party gives them confused looks, but they try to ignore it and grab their bikes. They drag them towards the familiar road, get on and start biking.

"You're so obvious," Will says through a laugh about halfway through their trip.

"Am I?" Mike asks, sounding genuinely worried. He looks over at Will with his eyebrows curved.

"I mean, a little," Will shrugs and quickly glances over at Mike. His voice changes from playful to more serious. "Sometimes I feel like they're suspecting something."

"You think so?" Mike still sounds worried.

Will stops. A second later Mike stops, too. They look at each other. Will's eyebrows are pulled together, he's nervously chewing on his bottom lip. It takes Mike aback a bit.

"We're gonna have to tell them eventually," Will says carefully.

"Yeah, I know," Mike breathes out and looks down, fixating on the rocks beneath his feet.

"But there's no rush. I'm at your pace," Will reassures. Mike nods, but doesn't say anything. "Just.. maybe don't jump up to follow me everywhere right in front of them."

"Okay," Mike chuckles, finally lifting his eyes. They look at each other for a second. The world is quiet around them.

"They're happy for you," Will breaks the silence. Mike gives him a confused look. "That you're opening up again."

"Oh," Mike looks down again and smiles slightly. He nervously kicks a pebble away and gets back on his bike. "I'm happy, too."

They get to Will's house shortly after. All the lights are off and it's quiet. Will reaches under one of the floorboards to pull out a spare key.

"Where is everyone?" Mike asks, looking through the window.

"Mom and Hop are on a date," Will says as he's wiping the dusty key on his already dirty shirt. "Jonathan is-"

"Probably with Nancy," Mike finishes.

"Yeah."

Will opens the door and they walk inside. It's quiet. One of Dustin's caps is hanging on a hook near the front door, along with everyone's coats and hats. There are some dirty dishes in the sink, Hopper's ashtray is full on the coffee table. The door to Jane's room is slightly open. Mike can see the scraps of yarn scattered around her bed, like she was in the middle of knitting- No, crocheting, then had to run out.

Will walks into his own room, Mike lingers at the door. He's been here a million times, but now it feels different. He looks around like it's his first time being here. Will's room is neat, organized, but clearly lived in. He has posters on his walls, art supplies scattered on the desk. On the window there are a few of Jane's crafts. The wobbly plate Mike saw in the sketchbook. Will treasures it like it's made of gold.

Then Mike's eyes land on a canvas, covered up with fabric. That gets his attention.

"What's that?" he asks, pointing at the canvas.

Will was rummaging through his dresser this whole time, then his head snapped towards Mike. He follows Mike's gaze, then blushes.

"Oh, that's.. A painting I'm working on," he scrambles.

"I can see that," Mike replies, teasing.

"Shut up," Will rolls his eyes and carefully lifts the fabric, revealing what's underneath.

It's just a sketch so far with a few paint swatches in the corner. Mike can make out two figures, holding hands. It's clearly supposed to be something romantic, but it's hard to tell at this stage. Mike studies it intently, eyebrows furrowed.

"Looks great," he says and nods.

"It's basically nothing," Will says flatly. "It's.. It's for Dustin. Well, it's for Jane, but from Dustin- Dustin commissioned it, is what I mean."

Will stutters, then cringes at himself and closes his eyes. Mike can't help but chuckle. Will shoots him a glance, then his smile falters. Mike's heart skips a beat. Will slowly covers the canvas back up and turns back to his dresser, trying to find a clean shirt to change into.

A silence stretches between them, but not a comfortable one. It's tense. Suddenly the atmosphere is different. Mike shifts on his feet, chewing the inside of his cheek. He stares at Will's back feeling incredibly guilty. He takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts.

"We should probably talk about.. that painting," he starts, unsure. He leans against the wall not to fall over.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," Will breathes out, his voice is hoarse and rough. He's still not facing Mike.

"I do want to. I should've done it a long time ago, anyway."

"Okay," Will whispers and slowly turns to face Mike. He holds eye contact for about two seconds before looking back down at the floor.

"It was yours, right? Jane didn't commission it?" Mike's eyebrows pull together. His voice shakes. He wants to shut up and avoid this conversation, but pushes through it.

"Yeah. It was," Will nods after a pause.

"Okay," Mike lets out a long breath, trying to calm his nerves. He just looks at Will for a few seconds. Before he can open his mouth, Will speaks up.

"I'm sorry," Will sobs. Mike immediately rushes to him, cupping his cheek.

"For what? Will, you didn't do anything wrong," Mike says, voice as soft as ever, fighting back his own tears.

"For lying to you," another sob escapes Will, and his shoulders shake.

"Will," Mike whispers and pulls him into a tight hug, pressing his chin into the brown hair. He kisses Will's forehead.

"I was just- I thought that.. Maybe it would mean more to you if it came from her," Will's voice is breaking more the more he talks, making Mike press him closer, tighter. "You were having problems, and I wanted to help. And I didn't want to make things weird, so I panicked, and just said it was her idea. I'm sorry, Mike."

"Stop it," Mike whispers, patting the back of Will's head. "It would've meant everything to me if you said it's from you. It does mean everything to me, Will. I think about your words every day."

Mike can feel his own tears welling up. One runs down his cheek. He presses closer into Will's hair. He can feel Will's hands on his back, squeezing the fabric of his shirt hard. Will's face is tucked into Mike's neck, like it belongs there.

"I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't tell me," Mike whispers into Will's hair. Will sobs again, unable to speak, so he just nods against Mike's neck instead.

They stay like that for a bit, tangled together, until their breathing evens out. Will is still sniffling, and his face is blotchy, but he can talk again. He slowly pulls away, just enough to see Mike's face, who is also all red and snotty.

"When did you figure it out?" Will asks. Mike's eyebrows shoot up.

"Uh.. I think at the Squawk. During your speech," Mike can see how surprised Will's face gets. "I mean, obviously I asked Jane about it before that, when we broke up. She didn't know what I was talking about, and we just kind of.. left it at that? Then with.. everything that was going on, we didn't really have time to sit down and talk about it."

"Right," Will says, nodding along.

"I'm an idiot, I know. Now that I look back at it, it's so obvious," Mike furrows his brows. He's gripping Will's shoulders and he shakes them slightly to really emphasize his words. "I mean, Jane never even cared much about D&D, and she told me that you were painting something for a girl you liked. Then I come to visit, and you have a painting in your hands. I'm just- I was so stupid. I'm sorry, Will."

"It's okay. You're not stupid," Will smiles and places his palm on Mike's chest.

"It finally clicked for me at the Squawk," a tear runs down Mike's cheek. "Your speech, the way you were looking at me. Everything just fell into place. I finally connected the dots."

"Then.. why didn't you-"

"I thought I was too late," Mike interrupts. Another tear escapes his eye. "I thought you already moved on, and I didn't want to hurt you by bringing it up after all this time."

"I didn't move on," Will says after a pause. "I tried, but feelings like that don't just go away in one day. I guess I just.. I stopped hating myself for having these feelings? I was happy to have you in my life, even as just a friend."

"A best friend," Mike corrects and gets shoved in the chest. They both laugh, still sniffling.

"Yeah. A best friend," Will looks up at Mike and smiles.

"I'm sorry it took me this long, Will," Mike drops his head on Will's shoulder.

"It's okay. You shouldn't rush something like this," Will's hand finds its way into the back of Mike's curls. He feels a tug at his heart. He didn't get to figure this out at his own pace, the least he can do is give Mike all the space and time he needs.

They pull apart again, all red and gross, but happy. This has been weighing on Mike for a long time, he was terrified of confronting it. Now that he finally did it, he feels lighter than ever.

The atmosphere is back to normal. They're talking casually. Mike is looking around the room, while Will is still digging through his dresser for a decent shirt. He fishes out a stripy one. Mike's head immediately snaps towards it.

"I like that one," he shoots out.

"You have a thing for stripes, huh," Will teases, giggling.

"No I don't! I mean, well," Mike looks down, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He mumbles. "You look pretty in it."

Will's eyes widen for a second. His face becomes beet red, and he looks down all flustered. Mike notices and smirks.

"Okay," Will rolls his eyes and closes the dresser.

He grabs the hem of his dirty shirt, then freezes. He gives Mike a look, after about two seconds it clicks. Mike quickly nods and turns around. They have seen each other shirtless countless of times, but it's so different now. Mike focuses his gaze on the chipped paint of the wall, putting all his strength into not turning around. The chip quickly gets boring to look at, and his eyes shift to Will's desk, specifically the brush cup.

Will's brushes are cheap and mostly old. Most of them have been with him since middle school. The bristles are messed up or clumped with paint. Mike recalls the brush set he saw at the mall today. He didn't pay them any mind in the moment, just noted the price. A high price. Now he feels the urge to buy them for Will just to see his face light up with excitement.

"Okay, I'm done," Will says after about a minute.

Mike turns around, and Will is wearing the stripy shirt. His hair is a little messed up. Will tries patting it down, but misses one stubborn strand at the top. Mike reaches over and fixes it. Will looks up at him through his long eyelashes. Mike freezes for a second, then pulls away all flustered.

"Okay," Mike's voice cracks, so he clears his throat. "They're probably waiting for us."

Suddenly Mike's shirt feels too tight. He pulls on the neckline, as if that would make breathing easier. His legs feel like jello. Will stops him at the front door by grabbing his wrist. Will looks out the window, then back at Mike.

Before Mike can say anything, Will stands up on his tippy toes and connects their lips. Mike melts into the touch. His hands slide to Will's waist on their own, pressing him closer. He's ready to pull away after a few seconds, like they've been doing every time so far, but Will's hand slides up to the back of his neck, into his curls, pressing him down.

Will hesitantly moves his lips, testing. Mike immediately tilts his head to deepen the kiss, and starts moving his lips in response. This kiss is different. Before it was shy, careful, still figuring out what they're doing and not crossing any lines. Now they're moving in unison, gasping into each other's mouths and refusing to separate.

"I love you," Mike says in between kisses. He says it like it's the last words he will ever utter, and Will swallows it whole, savoring it.

"So much," Will whimpers into the kiss. It makes Mike's knees buckle.

They both smile, then finally separate once they physically can't go on any longer, desperate for air. Their foreheads are firmly pressed together, and they're panting into each other's mouths. It takes them about a minute to catch their breaths.

"That was," Mike wheezes out.

"Yeah," Will finishes.

Their panting turns into laughter, but they can't stay like this forever. They reluctantly separate, glowing red. Their lips are red and swollen from the kiss. Will holds up the key, Mike just nods.

They leave the house, Will locks the door and puts the key back in its spot under the front porch. They're still giddy and delirious, but they get on their bikes and drive away, before their absence gets suspiciously long.

Through their giggling they don't notice Jonathan's car parked down the road.

Chapter Text

The sun was exceptionally hot today. The Party biked to the lake, the asphalt practically sizzling beneath their wheels. It took them way longer than necessary to decide on the day. On Monday Dustin was busy and Lucas still didn't feel well. Thursday, Max was busy and Jane had plans with Joyce. Wednesday, Mike was forced to go shopping with Karen, Will was busy with cleaning the entire house.

Eventually they landed on Friday. Everyone was free, not sick and eager to go for a swim. It was still relatively early, but the heat was killing them. They wasted no time tugging their shoes off, undressing down to their swimsuits and shorts, and getting in the water. Each at their own pace.

Lucas and Dustin ran straight in, diving underwater immediately. The water splashed wildly around them. Lucas felt great, Dustin mostly wanted to one up him, but ended up screeching loud from the cold. His voice echoed. Max and Jane took their time. Jane carefully ran her fingertips along the water surface, breath steady, steps slow but firm. Max was right there with her, a little impatient, but not pushing.

Will and Mike were far behind everyone else. Will's steps were slow and unsure. He would pause from time to time, feeling the rocky bottom with his feet, grounding himself. The cold water sent unpleasant shivers up his spine. Every wave made him shudder, but he kept walking deeper.

Mike was a little behind him, a lot more dramatic in his reactions. His arms are crossed tightly around his chest, shoulders tense and nearly pressing into his ears. He's gasping, cursing under his breath with every step. His feet refuse to flatten, and he's walking on the very tips of his toes. The contrast is too much. His upper half is practically boiling from the sun, while the bottom is freezing cold.

He looks ahead, and sees Will frozen in place. Despite the cold, Mike speeds up, water splashing around him. The ice cold surface reaches the hem of his shorts, goes up to his waist. It makes his lungs close shut, he wants to get out, but keeps pushing. He approaches Will carefully, trying not to startle him.

Will is looking down, eyebrows furrowed. He is studying his trembling reflection in the water, dragging his fingertips along the surface. Mike watches his chest rise and fall unevenly. He carefully reaches out and cups the back of Will's neck with his palm. Will flinches for a second.

"You okay?" Mike asks carefully.

Will's head snaps towards him. They lock eyes, and Mike sees Will relax into the touch. It's warm, comfortable, grounding. Will closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and looks at Mike again.

"Yeah," he whispers and nods. Then looks down at the water again. "Just.."

"I know," Mike finishes for him.

He gently rubs Will's neck, soothing him. Then his fingers slide into the short brown hair, gently scratching. Will takes another sharp breath, nods to himself and keeps walking.

They walk further, staying close. Once the water is at their rib level, they stop. Mike is still not used to the temperature, at all. His body is tense, he can feel his teeth clattering against each other. Will is surprisingly calm. He turns towards Mike with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"W- Will?"

That's all Mike could say before Will lunged at him, gripping his shoulders firmly and pulling him underwater. They both dive in, the freezing cold covering them from head to toe. Mike wiggles out of the grasp and stands back up, gasping frantically. His hair is covering his eyes, he flicks it away. He rubs his arms, trying to warm up, but it's not doing anything.

Once the shock dies down, he realizes that Will is still underwater. His heart drops. A panic settles itself in his chest, his eyes widen and he stares deep into the dark water. It lasts about a second, then Will emerges, water splashing around him. Some of it lands harshly on Mike's face. It's unpleasant, but it also snaps him back into reality.

He watches Will wipe the water off his face, giggling. He's bouncing up and down, hugging himself, trying to battle the cold. Mike breathes out with relief, but his hands are still shaking and his heart is still hammering hard against his ribs.

"Oh my god, that's cold!" Will squeals, still laughing. He sees Mike's face, lost in thought, and splashes him a little. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Mike snaps out of his trance. He finally uncrosses his arms and puts them underwater, now more used to the temperature. His eyebrows curve. "And you?"

"I'm great," Will nods with a wide smile. He splashes Mike again, harder this time.

"What the fuck!" Mike screeches, splashing Will right back.

Everyone stays in the water for a while. The boys are climbing each other's shoulders, pulling each other underwater, splashing and coming up with ridiculous challenges that Lucas usually wins. Max enjoys floating on the surface, staring up at the sky. Her whole body is relaxed, the voices muffled. Until someone splashes her, that is.

Jane eventually joins in on the challenges. Who can swim to a specific spot the fastest, who can stay underwater the longest. A few times she climbed Lucas' shoulders, and he threw her upwards, so she could dive back underwater with a huge splash and a wave of laughs. They feel happy, like they're right where they're meant to be.

The sun quickly rises, along with the temperature. Their things are still in bags on the sand. They were so eager to get in the water they didn't even bother unpacking. Max is the first one to get out, squeezing as much water out of her hair as she can. The sand feels boiling hot under her feet. She opens her bag, pulls out a towel and wraps it around herself. It's nice and warm and feels comfortable.

The others follow shortly after, now feeling tired and weak. Mike practically runs to his bag, desperate to warm up. His teeth are clattering again, shaking fingers fumbling with the zipper. Will crouches down next to him and opens the bag easily. They both glance at each other quickly and blush. Mike bites down his smirk while Will stands up and walks to his own bag.

They quickly set everything up, towels spread out on the sand. They found a nice, cozy spot under a big tree, in the shade. They parked their bikes against it. Lucas gave everyone his sunscreen, as much as he didn't want to, but no one thought to bring their own. Dustin helps Jane apply it to her shoulders, both giggling. Lucas, naturally, does it for Max without her having to even ask.

Mike applies it to his body sloppily, already feeling the burn on his back. His shoulders are flushed and permanently red. He's definitely getting a sunburn. Once he's done, he hands the bottle to Will, brushing their fingers briefly. Will glances at him, their friends, then back at him. There is a certain glint in his eyes, and he traps his bottom lip between his teeth. Mike gives him a curious look.

"Wanna do it for me?" Will whispers, fiddling with the bottle. His lips stretch into a mischievous smile.

Mike glances over at their friends, all busy, turns back to Will and eagerly nods. He takes the bottle back, squeezes some of the contents on his palm and stands behind Will. His fingertips are practically buzzing with anticipation. He rubs his palms together to spread and warm up the sunscreen, then carefully presses them to Will's shoulders.

Will leans back into the touch. His skin is hot, a little flushed. Mike rubs his shoulders carefully, fingers exploring each curve and bump. He rubs circles around Will's beauty marks, traces the line of his spine and shoulder blades. Will softly sighs when Mike presses his thumb into his back muscles.

Mike glances over at their friends again, busy setting up the snacks, so he moves his hands lower, lingering at Will's waist. He has seen this part of Will countless of times before, but it's like he's seeing it for the first time now. He studies it like it's a painting, something so beautiful and precious he can't look away. He presses both of his thumbs down, and feels Will arch his back a little.

That makes Mike's knees buckle. He takes a sharp breath, snapping out of his trance, and to end this off cups the back of Will's neck again, spreading the sunscreen there as well. He traces the line of Will's jaw with his thumb, feather light, and reluctantly pulls his hands away. His breath is unsteady, and he can feel the blush spreading from his chest up to the tips of his ears. Luckily he can just blame it on the sun, if any questions arise.

Will isn't doing much better. His eyes are hazy, and he's avoiding making eye contact. Mike takes note of how he's biting down on his bottom lip, and hands the bottle over.

"Thanks," Will breathes out, taking the bottle. His voice cracks.

"Yeah. You can do the rest yourself, right?" Mike teases, even though he is just as flustered.

"Shut up," Will rolls his eyes and visibly relaxes. Mike leaves him and goes to help the others with the food.

The next few hours fly by quickly. The sun is at its peak, making the air feel thick and hard to breathe in. Jane and Dustin hang out in the water, about knee deep. Once it gets too hot they splash some water on each other to cool off. It practically evaporates when it touches their skin. Max is trying to tan, with her new sunglasses on. Lucas was right, they do match her eyes perfectly. He's also constantly interrupting her, coming over and blocking out the sun.

"Drink something," he says to her, cold can of soda in hand. His shadow is completely covering her.

"Jesus," Max groans and snatches the can. It's cold and wet from condensation.

"I don't want you overheating," Lucas crouches down and presses his hand to Max's forehead.

"Just give me ten minutes," Max tries to sound annoyed, but her lips stretch into a smirk despite her efforts. She lifts herself up on her elbows. "Now shoo."

She gives Lucas a peck on the lips and waves him away. He nods, and does as told.

Will and Mike are on the towels in the shade. Will has pulled out his sketchbook, propped it up on his knees and is sketching away. He seems to be dealing with the heat well, sipping on his soda from time to time. Mike is next to him, practically passed out. He's laying flat on his back, limbs spread and eyes closed. He feels so weak, like the sun has physically melted all his energy away. He can already feel his back burning and stinging.

He's listening to the light wind, the tree branches creaking, Will's steady breathing and his pencil scratching the paper. He feels peaceful, despite everything. Then he hears Lucas' cooler open, clanking of the cans, and something cold touches his cheek. He flinches and slowly opens one eye.

"Drink," it's Will. His voice is gentle and silky. He's looking at Mike, eyebrows curved in worry.

Mike nods and clumsily props himself up on one elbow. Will opens the can for him, and Mike takes a few big gulps, feeling the cold settle itself in his belly and slowly spread to the rest of his body. He presses the half empty can to his cheek, the contrast waking him up. Will is watching his every move with care and adoration.

"Can I see?" Mike asks, nodding to Will's sketchbook.

"Yeah," Will says softly and hands the book over.

On the page there were a few sketches of their towels, the cooler, the cans. A little lower there was a faint sketch of the entire lake, the cliffs surrounding it, and their friends in the water. It's not too detailed yet, but easily recognizable. Mike's eyes linger on it, and his expression saddens without him even realizing. Will notices.

"What is it?" he asks, barely above a whisper, and bumps Mike's shoulder with his own.

"Hm?" Mike looks up at him, his thin eyebrows knit together, lips pressed into a tight line.

"You look like you're thinking about something."

"I mean," Mike sighs. He lays back down on the towel. His back stings again. "It's just.. In the water, when you pulled me down, there was this.. moment. I- I just panicked a little when I stood up, but you were still under.. You know? It's.. It's nothing. Sorry."

"No. No, no. Don't say that," Will shakes his head and lays down next to him, locking their eyes and pressing their shoulders together. He carefully hooks Mike's pinky with his own, hidden between their bodies and under the open sketchbook. "I'm here, I'm okay. We're all okay."

Will's voice is smooth like honey. He blinks with his sparkling green eyes and studies Mike's face with all the care in the world. Mike quickly gets overwhelmed by it all. He feels tears collecting at the corners of his eyes, and turns away, smiling. He just nods and lets out a wet chuckle. Will doesn't push.

They lay like that for a bit, soaking in the sounds of nature and their friends' voices. Their pinkies are still linked. A towel drops next to Mike with a dull thump, and they separate their hands like they got burned.

"Scoot," Max says, pushing Mike over. He's barely moved and she's already trying to sit down.

"Jesus, you have your own towel," Mike grumbles, but still scoots over, closer to Will.

His back stings and his skin feels tight. He hisses from the sensation. He is laying right where his and Will's towels meet. Max pushes her glasses up, glances at the sketchbook and looks up at Will, silently asking for permission. He nods without hesitation.

Mike hisses from how the seams of the towels are scratching his back, and turns over to lay on his stomach, groaning like an old man the whole time. Will gasps when he sees his back. It is almost cherry red, a stark contrast against his usually pale skin. The skin at his shoulders and lower back is a bit lighter, with an uneven outline where Mike sloppily applied the sunscreen. Will can clearly see the outline of his fingers against the burn.

"God, Mike," Will sighs, reaching over to Lucas' bag to grab the sunscreen.

Mike says something, muffled by the towels. Will opens the bottle and looks at Max, not sure what to do.

"I'm not doing it," she says and goes back to flipping through the sketchbook.

Will sighs, and feels the blush creeping up his cheeks. He's nervous. Would this be okay to do so openly? Would it be too suspicious? Well, they've all helped each other apply sunscreen. It shouldn't be too out of the ordinary. He just sits there for a second, pondering. His fingers twitch.

Then he squeezes some of the sunscreen on his hands, and while it's still cool, starts applying it to Mike's back. Just with his fingertips first. It's gentle, feather light, but Mike still flinches and hisses. Eventually Will presses his entire palms down, still gentle. His hands glide up and down Mike's back, and he feels Mike stiffen and flinch with every small movement. When he reaches a particularly hot spot, Mike whines, face still pressed into the towels. Will feels his stomach flip at the sound.

"You're such a baby," Max mumbles, rolling her eyes. Will giggles at that.

"Shut up. It hurts," Mike whines more, stretching his words.

"Yeah, 'cause you applied it like a six year old," Max shoots back.

The others come over, water dripping off of them. Dustin hands Jane a towel to wrap around herself. Shortly they all sit in a circle around Will's sketchbook, constantly complimenting his skills and reminiscing on the memories he captured on the yellowed pages. It's like looking through a photo album.

Their hangouts, their classrooms, silly doodles of people they don't like, some random notes and grocery lists. Everyone is laughing, and Will feels flustered from all the attention. He's pressing his knees into his chest, hiding his face in them after a particularly heartfelt compliment. His cheeks are permanently pink, and a smile never leaves his lips.

"You're filling it up so fast," Lucas grabs the book and flips to the blank pages. He keeps flipping, to count how many pages are left.

When he gets to the very last page, he freezes. He lets out a surprised 'oh', which gets everyone's attention. The others scoot closer, trying to get a look.

"What is it?" Will asks, confused.

"There's a note," Max answers. Her eyebrows shoot up.

Mike flinches. No one seems to notice.

"A note?" Will asks again, even more confused.

"Yup. 'I love you'. Heart," Dustin says slowly, pronouncing every syllable.

Everyone looks at Will. Lucas and Dustin look eager, glancing at each other and smirking. Max furrows her eyebrows slightly, intently studying Will's reaction. Jane is quiet. She looks back down to the note and lingers there.

Mike, still on his stomach, has not moved a single muscle. Maybe if he stays as still as possible he will blend in, or fall through the ground, or evaporate and disappear. Anything. His heart is hammering hard against his ribs, and his limbs are numb. He even stops breathing.

"It- It's probably Jonathan," Will stutters, rubbing his neck nervously. He is desperately trying to pull his thoughts together. "Or- Or mom! Maybe it was a.. a Birthday note, and I just missed it. Somehow."

"That's it?" Dustin slumps back. His previous excitement gets wiped right off his face.

"Man, I thought you had a secret admirer or something," Lucas adds. Will can only chuckle in response.

A little further down the lake Lucas found a flat patch of sand. Everyone decided it was a perfect spot to play some volleyball, even though with four people it was more like passing each other the ball until they get bored. Will and Mike stayed back, promising they'll join in a bit.

Mike is still face down on the towels, almost asleep. Will shifts where he's sitting, and leans down.

"Did you write that?" he whispers.

Mike nods into the towel. Will sighs and shakes his head, more to himself than anyone else. He feels warm all over, not from the sun, but from how giddy he feels. He looks at Mike's back, still very red and hot, but it's looking a little better. Then his gaze shifts higher, to the pitch black curls spilling around the towel like a halo. Mike's arms are crossed, palms meeting under his forehead. Will wants to tangle his fingers in the curls, but resists.

"I love you," he says, barely above a whisper, even though their friends are far beyond hearing distance, and the only life surrounding them are birds and trees. Still, he can't bring himself to say it any louder.

Mike turns his head so his mouth isn't pressed against the towel anymore. He looks up at Will, already blushing and a dorky smile spreads on his face before he can stop it.

"I love you, too," he whispers back.

Will smiles harder and turns his face away, too flustered to hold the eye contact. He looks at the water. The sun is bouncing off the surface like glitter. The warm wind is whistling between the trees. Everything is so warm, bright and saturated. Will takes a deep breath, then turns back to Mike.

"You need to get in the water and cool down," he says softly, eyes sliding over Mike's burnt back.

Mike whines again, burying his face back into the towel. Will laughs and tugs at Mike's arm. Gently.

"Come on," Will stretches.

"Will you go with with me?" Mike mumbles, still refusing to move.

"I will," Will says through a laugh.

There's a brief pause.

"I Mike."

Mike snickers into the towel. Another pause, then Will pinches him in the ribs, making him yelp and bend backwards so hard he nearly folds in half.

Getting in the water the second time isn't much easier for Mike. His body is incredibly tense the whole time, he's walking on his tippy toes, gasping and panting and cursing. Will can't help but laugh at him and his dramatic reactions. Mike doesn't even want to talk at first. Whatever questions or comments Will makes get in one ear, out the other. Mike tries to listen, but fails miserably.

After a solid 10 minutes, they get waist deep. The cold water reaches Mike's burnt lower back, and relief washes over him. He sighs, even closes his eyes. His body finally relaxes a little bit, and he stands flat on his feet. Will walks a little deeper, and drops himself in the water, his head still above the surface. He gasps, but keeps swimming on his back until his body gets used to the temperature. Mike follows. He takes a few more steps, braces himself as if he's about to dive into lava, and swims up to Will. He lets out a high pitched gasp, another quick wave of 'ohjesusfuckingchristshitshitshit' until he reaches the other boy. They lock eyes, keeping their bodies submerged up to their shoulders.

"Hi," Mike breathes out. It's high pitched and nervous.

"Hey," Will chuckles. His cheeks get red immediately.

"I missed you," Mike whispers. His eyes linger down to Will's lips, then back up to his eyes.

"We've been together all day," Will rolls his eyes, still smiling.

"Well- Yeah," Mike rolls his eyes back, more dramatically. He leans in closer. His hand finds Will's underwater, and he carefully links their fingers. "But.. Not just the two of us."

"I know," Will says with a note of sadness in his voice.

He quickly looks over to the beach, where their friends are still playing. Jane passes the ball to Lucas, and he purposefully hits it as hard as he can towards Dustin. Dustin tries to catch it, but ends up falling over while cursing. Then Will looks back at Mike, who was already staring back.

"Can you come over today?" Mike asks, almost pouting.

"I can't. It's movie night," Will's face scrunches into a guilty expression. He tilts his head, smiles a little, showing off his bunny teeth.

"Right," Mike folds immediately, just nodding. Then something sparkles in Will's eyes.

"Maybe you could come over?"

"You sure?" Mike lights up immediately. He looks at Will with wide eyes, expecting.

"Yeah," Will nods and laughs. He swears he can see a tail wagging behind Mike. Then he bites down his smirk and leans a little closer. His already quiet voice goes even quieter. "We could just stay in my room. Alone."

Mike nods eagerly and squeezes Will's hand harder. God, he wants to kiss him so bad right now.

The sun is lower now, the air feels more fresh and Mike doesn't feel like he's dying anymore. From the heat, at least. Max and Will are sitting on the sand, feet in the water, talking. Mike watches them while helping Lucas pack their stuff. Mike only half listens, then when Lucas mentions summer jobs, his ears perk up.

"There's this sweet old lady down the block that can barely walk. I'm mowing her lawn on Monday," Lucas goes on.

"Hey," Mike speaks up, and Lucas looks at him. "Do you.. Do you have any more rich neighbors that need their lawns mowed?"

His voice is nervous and cracking on every other word. Lucas gives him a blank stare, and they go quiet for a few seconds.

"Look, man. I love you, but I'm not giving up my spot," Lucas throws his arms up and shrugs.

"Come on, not even just one?" Mike whines, face all scrunched up. Lucas shakes his head.

"Nothing personal," Lucas furrows his brows, thinking. "Just look around and see who's hiring. A grocery store, a cafe. I don't know."

Dustin comes over. He already has his shirt on, and is fighting against the mosquitos. He keeps swatting and slapping around his body while cursing. Neck, arms, legs, face. He seamlessly joins in the conversation.

"You wanna get a job?" Dustin asks, a little too loud. Mike shushes him.

"Maybe," Mike mumbles, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He looks down.

"The movie theater is hiring. They have the 'help wanted' thing on their door," Dustin says lightly, then suddenly slaps his neck, killing another mosquito. "Son of a bitch."

"That could work," Lucas adds, and they move on.

Mike is lost in thought again, packing the rest of their stuff on autopilot and only receiving about half of the conversations around him. He still hasn't taken Will out on a date, and he needs money. He feels awkward asking his parents at his age, and he needs more than a couple bucks. His father has been more strict about pocket money since Mike turned eighteen. Karen still gives him some, in secret from Ted, but in small amounts.

Mike is nervous about getting a job. It's something new, something different. Something an adult does. For a while he lets the idea marinate in his head, weighs out the pros an cons. There is one big pro, getting money to spend on Will. He imagines all the possible dates they could go on, all the gifts he could give him, the excitement on his face. Will deserves nice things, deserves to be taken care of and spoiled. After everything he's been through, that's the least Mike can do.

He thinks it over as he's picking up his and Will's stuff, as they're biking down the road, as they say bye to Lucas and Max, and as they arrive to the Byers' house. It's already pretty dark outside, and the evening chill sneaks up under their shirts, leaving goosebumps on their skin. Mike's burnt back is itchy now, and the fabric of his shirt grazing against it sends unpleasant shivers up his spine.

In contrast to the dark and quiet outside, the house is bright and loud. It's filled with the smell of popcorn, wood and cigarettes. Joyce is in the kitchen, watching the corn popping in the microwave. Jonathan is in front of the TV, setting it up. Hopper is not here yet.

"Hey!" Joyce stretches and goes to hug everybody, smiling wide. Her hair is in a messy ponytail, and she looks a bit tired from work.

"How was the lake?" Jonathan asks, still focused on the TV in front of him.

"It was so fun!" Jane exclaims. She follows Joyce into the kitchen, telling her about everything they did today.

Dustin tugs his shoes off and plops on the couch, confident and comfortable, as if he also lives here. Mike feels a little awkward. He tugs his shoes off, too, and lingers at the front door. Meanwhile Will crouches down next to Jonathan, who is still fiddling with the wires.

"Need any help?" Will asks.

"No, bud. I got it," Jonathan answers, voice a little strained when he reaches somewhere behind the TV stand. He plugs something in, then pulls out a tape for 'The Shining'.

"Again?" Will groans.

"Don't ask me. It's not my week," Jonathan shrugs. From his voice it's clear he also isn't happy with the choice.

"It's not that bad," Dustin speaks up, scratching at his neck covered in little red mosquito bites.

"Actually," Will shifts on his feet, a little nervous. "I think I'm just gonna stay in my room with Mike-"

"Mike is here?" Jonathan interrupts and turns around, immediately locking eyes with Mike.

He goes quiet for a second, just staring. Mike suddenly feels small. He shifts on his feet and drops his eyes down to the floor. Lately Jonathan has been looking at him in a way he can't decode.

"H- Hey," Mike stutters.

"Hey. Yeah," Jonathan breathes out, like he just woke up. He glances between Will and Mike, back to Will. He just opens his mouth without saying anything at first, until he stands up. "Sure. I mean, Mike can also join," his head snaps back to Mike. "Do you wanna watch a movie with us?"

"Uh," Mike fumbles. He feels a little less nervous, but his thoughts are still scattered. He nods rapidly. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

He immediately regrets it. He wanted to stay in Will's room so bad, just the two of them. But it felt weird to decline the offer in the moment. Mike can see in Will's face that he feels the same way. They exchange an understanding glance.

Jonathan then walks over to Mike, almost tripping on everyone's shoes, and gives him a firm hug, patting him on the back. Mike immediately hisses, trying to bend away from the touch. Jonathan reacts quickly and lets him go, startled.

"You okay?" he's holding Mike by the shoulders.

"Sunburn," Mike hisses, face scrunched from pain.

"Sorry," Jonathan says weakly.

"It's okay."

"I got something that can help!" Joyce speaks up from the kitchen, rummaging through a drawer. She pulls out a tube and runs over to Mike. "This should help."

"Thanks," Mike takes it and smiles at her.

"When is Hop coming?" Will speaks up. His arms are crossed on his chest and he's nervously shifting on his feet.

"He's a little late today. Should be here in thirty minutes maybe?" Joyce answers with a bowl of hot popcorn in hand.

Mike and Will exchange another glance, saying a thousand words with just their eyes. Mike quirks his eyebrows up, and Will widens his eyes a little. They already made a plan.

"We'll be in my room," Will says quickly.

Before anyone can answer, they're already in the room with the door closed behind them. There's a short pause, before Mike breaks it by giggling.

"Shut up," Will bumps him in the ribs, holding back his own laughter.

Mike sits on the edge of Will's bed, reading the label on the tube. It's a cooling cream, specifically for sunburns. Mike internally wishes Joyce all the fortunes of the universe. He lifts his eyes to see Will with his back turned to him. He reaches for the hem of his shirt, and pulls it off over his head. The shyness from the other day is gone completely.

Mike's eyes shoot down, trying not to stare. Will then crouches down to rummage through his dresser, and Mike can't help but slowly lift his eyes back up. His gaze follows the curve of Will's spine, every mole, the scar on his side, the outline of his waist. He's so lost in the view that his jaw hangs open.

Will quickly finds a new shirt and pulls it on. When he turns to Mike he suddenly gets flustered. Mike is staring at him, wide eyed, mouth slightly open. When he locks eyes with Will he snaps back to reality and clears his throat. Will looks down at the floor and tries to steady his breath.

"Um.. Can you.. Uh," Will mutters, walking over to the bed. He's gesturing at Mike, hoping he'd get it, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't. He just looks at Will with those clueless big eyes. "Take your shirt off."

"Oh," Mike blinks back to reality. Will snatches the tube out of his hands. Mike slowly reaches for the hem of his shirt, and feels the skin on his back pulling and stinging.

"Hurry up. We don't have all day," Will teases.

"It burns," Mike whines, giving up. Will lets out a long, exhausted sigh.

"Max was right. You are a baby."

Will shakes his head and reaches down to grab Mike's shirt. They both freeze for a second and just look at each other. Will waits for silent permission, and when Mike nods, he carefully pulls the fabric up. He tries to pull it away from the burnt skin, to cause Mike as little pain as possible. The other boy lifts his arms to make the process easier. Will pulls the shirt over Mike's head and arms, and hangs it on the back of his chair.

He looks back at Mike, who's still pouting. Will can't help but chuckle at the sight.

"Lie down," he points to the pillow, and Mike immediately follows, laying down on his stomach.

Will grimaces at how red and irritated Mike's back is. He squeezes some of the cream on his hands, and starts applying it. Mike is whining under his touch, but much less than earlier. Will's palms are precise but gentle. He wants to cover all of the burn, but also doesn't want to torture Mike.

Mike sighs in relief when the cream touches his skin. It's soothing and comforting. Like he finally drank water after being in a desert for a week. Like he can finally breathe. He practically melts into Will's bed. His eyelids feel heavy, and he lets them close. The fabric beneath him smells like Will. The detergent Joyce always buys, wood, paint, and Will. Just Will.

Will lets his hands linger for a little longer then necessary, then pulls away. He leaves relaxed Mike on the bed, and goes back to his dresser, rummaging through it again. Mike nearly falls asleep like that, until Will throws some clothes at his head.

"Are you giving me your shirt?" Mike mumbles into the pillow, trying to tease. A stupid smile is splitting his face.

"That one's yours," Will teases back, leaning against his desk and smirking.

Mike peels his face away from the pillow and looks at the fabric. His eyes widen. It is one of his shirts. He left it here after one of their sleepovers. Will was supposed to give it back at some point, but they both forgot.

"You had it this whole time?" he says, almost sounding offended. Will gives him a confused look. "Will, I've been looking for it for weeks! Are you kidding me?"

"Sorry," Will laughs.

Mike lays back down, too lazy to move. He reaches his hand out, palm open. Will doesn't take the hint. Mike closes and opens his palm a few times, inviting. When Will ignores him again, he whines into the pillow. Then Will finally takes his hand, laughing.

"You are so whiny," Will says and sits at the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking beneath their shared weight.

Mike doesn't say anything, just grumbles into the fabric. They stay like that for a bit, hands interlaced. Mike is steadily breathing into the pillow. Will is studying him. He traces the slope of his back, every curve and imperfection. His fingers itch to put it in his sketchbook, but he leaves that for later. Maybe Mike could pose for him. The thought makes him blush.

"Are you burnt anywhere else?" Will breaks the silence.

Mike turns his head, cheek pressing into the pillow. He looks at Will through half closed eyes and lightly shrugs. Will sees that his face is also red and burnt.

"Sit up," Will says softly, and gets up to get the cream on his desk.

Still whining and groaning, but Mike sits up. The pout is never leaving his face. He's clearly tired and sleepy, which makes Will feel all fuzzy inside. He walks back to the bed, and feels Mike's hands firmly grab his waist. It startles him for a second. Mike pulls him closer.

Will is now standing between Mike's legs, and it makes his breath hitch. This is very new to him. He can feel his heart beating loud and hard against his ribs. Mike rests his chin on Will's chest, looking up at him with his eyebrows curved. Will has to close his eyes not to explode on the spot. He squeezes some cream on his hands, and slowly reaches down to cup Mike's face.

Mike's lips stretch into a dorky smile at that. Will is tracing the hollows of his cheekbones with his fingertips, his jaw, one thumb runs down the slope of his nose, which was burnt the most. Mike fully melts into the touch, closing his eyes and sighing softly. Will quietly chuckles at that.

"Use sunscreen in advance next time," Will whispers, trying to sound assertive but failing.

"And miss out on this?" Mike teases and pulls Will closer.

"I'm serious, Mike," Will rolls his eyes. He feels the corners of his mouth twitch up. "Getting sunburnt isn't good for you."

"Okay," Mike folds.

"Done," Will swipes Mike's nose one last time, then cups his cheeks again.

Silence stretches between them. They just look at each other, studying each other's faces with dorky smiles and flushed cheeks. Outside the door they can hear everyone talking, the TV hissing. Everyone seems to be in the kitchen, far enough from Will's room.

"Can I have a kiss?" Mike whispers into Will's shirt.

"Mike," Will whispers back, very flustered and nervous.

"Please."

"Everyone is out there," Will tries to plead, but his tone betrays him. He doesn't sound convincing at all.

"Not even a little one?" Mike curves his eyebrows. "I've been waiting for this all day."

"Really?" Will teases. Mike squeezes him harder. Will chuckles at how needy Mike is being. "Okay, okay. Just a little one."

Will leans down just a little, before Mike stands up and connects their lips. Will's hands are still cupping his cheeks. Mike is leaning down so much that Will actually has to bend backwards a little. Mike's firm hands on his waist help him keep his balance.

This kiss is quick, like promised. They just press their lips together, holding each other, and smiling into the kiss. Mike turns his face a little, brushing their noses, and feels the stinging on his own. He reluctantly pulls away, but Will almost chases after it, pulling him back by his jaw. Will leaves a quick peck on Mike's lips, then his nose, soothing the pain.

They're about to go for more, unable to resist, but then they hear the front door slam closed. Hopper is home. They jump away from each other, even though they're still safe in the privacy of Will's room. Just reflex.

Mike is still shirtless, and Will points to the crumpled up shirt on his pillow. Mike nods and carefully pulls it on. Right as he does it, the door swings open. Hopper still doesn't have a habit of knocking. He stops in the doorway, and looks between the two. His gaze stops at Mike.

"Hey," Mike whispers, nervous. He tries to shift into a more casual pose, leaning against Will's desk with one hand. He almost stumbles and falls over.

"Hey," Hopper says, voice flat.

He quickly glances around the room, searching for something. Not finding anything suspicious, he walks over to Mike, firmly shaking his hand. He pulls him closer and pats him on the back, hard, and Mike keels over in pain. Will only had time to open his mouth.

"Sunburn," Will says slowly, looking down at Mike with a guilty expression.

"Oh. Sorry, kid," Hopper says, actually sounding a little remorseful. He looks over at Will and his voice softens. "I'll jump in the shower and we can get started."

Will nods.

The movie viewing was more chaotic than what Mike is used to. The couch is crowded, everyone is all over each other. Will called dibs on the side chair, and Mike sat on the floor in front of him, to keep his back untouched.

Dustin can't shut up and stop screaming at scary moments. Hopper desperately tries to make him stop while keeping his composure. Jonathan, with his newfound confidence, comments on the cinematography, explains all the symbolism and the tricks used. Jane loves quoting the movie, saying the lines before they even come up. Joyce is trying not to fall asleep.

Basically, no one is actually watching the movie. Mike gathers that they've probably already seen it, and there is no point in getting invested. He's on the floor, legs crossed. Will gave him a pillow to sit on. They're both quiet, just staring at the screen and trying not to fall asleep. Will almost dozes off, until Jane or Dustin yelp at a jumpscare.

Then his eyes land on Mike, or his illuminated silhouette specifically. Mike is slouched over, lazily picking at his popcorn. A smirk stretches on Will's face outside of his control. He glances over at his family, both focused and unfocused on the TV. What matters is no one is focused on him and Mike. He slowly moves his foot forward, until his ankle is pressed into Mike's thigh. The contact is small, but it sends electric shocks into the tips of his fingers.

Then Will feels Mike's hand move, his fingers gently wrap around his ankle, right on the elastic of his sock. Will has to physically bite his lips down to keep his giddy smile hidden. He feels the blush creeping up his neck and shifts a little, moving just a tiny bit closer to Mike.

The runtime of the movie feels like eternity. Hopper started getting impatient about halfway through, grumbling to himself about already knowing every detail of it. But Jane likes it, so he endures it. The whole time Mike is fidgeting around Will's ankle. Rubbing circles into the fabric with his thumb, picking at a loose thread, tugging at the elastic. He's doing it absentmindedly, just trying to keep himself somewhat entertained.

Those little touches is all Will can focus on. At this point he's covering his mouth with his hand. His lips genuinely hurt from biting down on them as much as he has. He feels warm and giddy and nervous all at the same time. He used to savor these kind of moments, whenever they brushed shoulders or when Mike picked something out of his hair. It was small and friendly and casual, but Will held those moments close to his heart, kept replaying them in his head over and over.

Sometimes he would even manufacture these moments. When he noticed a stray piece of fuzz on his hoodie, he'd leave it, hoping Mike would notice and pick it off for him. It usually worked really well. He would try and stand close to Mike, waiting for them to brush their shoulders or, if he's so lucky, for Mike to wrap his arm around his shoulders and ask if he's okay. Will would tell himself it's friendly and doesn't mean anything to Mike, but his brain would betray him, replaying those moments on loop, hoping it could be something else. Now he knows that it actually could have been something more than just friendly touch, even if Mike didn't realize it at the time.

Now it's intentional, gentle and tender. Mike flirts with him, initiates touch, tells him he loves him. It's all real. Will still has trouble believing it sometimes. Especially because a lot of their interactions are still friendly. Not much has changed between them, actually. They still hang out a lot, stay at each other's houses, talk and laugh. It's just the added touching and kissing when they're in private, and they feel much happier and more open with each other.

When the movie ends, Hopper groans loudly. It almost echoes throughout the house. He's the first one to leave the couch, and he stomps over to his bedroom. Dustin and Jane are pressed together on the couch, discussing the movie as if it's their first time watching it. Jonathan gets up and turns the TV off. He turns around to start cleaning, but Joyce stops him.

"I got it, sweetie," she pats him on the shoulder and gives him a warm smile.

Jon nods and goes to his room, very tired. Joyce gathers all of the popcorn bowls and goes into the kitchen. Meanwhile Dustin gets off the couch, scratching his itchy arms.

"Mosquitos really like you," Jane jokes.

"I guess I'm just so delicious," Dustin jokes back, trying to put on a weird medieval accent. It's corny, but Jane still laughs out loud.

Mike gets off the floor, groaning and grunting like an old man. His knees crack. Will reaches out to help him stand up. They look over at Dustin tugging his shoes on, then back at each other with sad expressions. Will mouths a 'sorry'.

"That was.. fun," Mike mumbles.

"We've seen it, like, ten times already," Will says flatly.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Jane always picks it when it's her turn," Will's lips stretch into a line. Mike chuckles at his expression.

It's nearly pitch black outside, and the air feels fresh. Jane and Dustin are hugging goodbye, staying like that for a little longer than necessary. They're both smiling wide and giggling. Will recognizes the feeling. He and Mike just look at them for a bit, biting down their own smiles.

Then they hug, too. Will keeps his hands on Mike's shoulders, avoiding the burn. Mike immediately buries his face into the curve of Will's shoulder. His hands are almost at his waist, eager to move lower but staying in place.

"I'll call you later, okay?" Mike whispers, words mostly air. Will nods against his hair.

They separate. Then Jane gives Mike a careful side hug, also trying not to touch the burn. Her face is a bit more serious than usual. Dustin hugs Will tight. He's made it a habit, hugging everyone like it's the last time. He squeezes so hard until the other person can barely breathe.

"Goodnight!" Dustin stretches from his bike.

Everyone waves, and Dustin and Mike bike away into the darkness. They drive down the familiar roads, illuminated by the streetlights. The cold air hits their faces. It feels refreshing. Dustin is still swatting and slapping away the stubborn mosquitos.

"Hey, uh," Mike starts. He glances over at Dustin. "How's it.. uh.. How's it going with you and Jane?"

"It's- It's going. I mean, we're not.. together yet, but I'm working on it," Dustin rambles.

"You know, if you have any questions.."

"Respectfully, I think you're the last person I should be asking," Dustin says plainly. He's not teasing, not joking. Just stating a fact.

"Alright," Mike shuts his mouth and nods.

"Goodnight, man," Dustin waves and turns on his street.

Will and Jane walk back inside. The lights are off, and everyone is in their rooms. It's so quiet you can hear the floor creaking and the buzzing of the fridge.

"I'm thristy," Will says and walks into the kitchen.

Jane follows, quiet. Will makes himself a glass of water, and downs it in a few big gulps. He rinses it, then locks eyes with Jane. She has a serious look on her face, when she's figured something out. Will quirks his eyebrows up, a silent question.

"It wasn't Jonathan, or mom," she says, voice flat.

"What?" Will is very confused.

"The note in your sketchbook."

Oh.

"It's not their handwriting," Jane's voice is serious, but not accusatory. She's just trying to get the facts straight.

Will doesn't know what to say. He freezes, rinsed cup still in hand. He just stares at his sister, mouth hanging open but no words are coming. It lasts a few seconds. Jane's face softens, and she looks at Will. Really looks at him. Will sees it in her eyes. She must know.

"But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Chapter Text

Will's jaw hangs open. He's scrambling for a response, but Jane's intense stare has wiped his mind clean. Her eyes are fixed on him, searching for answers, and he can tell she sees right through him. Of course she knows. Of course she would recognize Mike's handwriting. She has received many letters from him, even if she doesn't have them anymore.

Will feels nervous, maybe even a little scared. He and Mike haven't properly discussed this yet, how to tell everybody and when. He also doesn't want to lie to Jane's face. That wouldn't be fair to her. He closes his mouth and puts the cup on the rack.

"Goodnight," he settles for instead.

Not waiting for Jane to respond, he darts into his room, shutting the door behind him.

___

Mike ponders over the idea of getting a job for about a week. He walked by the movie theater a few times, just looking at the 'help wanted' sign on the door. Internally he was hoping that maybe the next time he walks by, it will be gone, and stop gnawing at him. But the sign remains. Taunting him.

He didn't tell Will about this, which feels awful. He also told Nancy not to tell Will about it, which feels even worse. Eventually he built up the courage to apply, and got accepted immediately. It was awkward, he was sweating from the nerves, but he got it done. Next step is to actually go and do the job.

He starts on Thursday. He stole a half decent dress shirt from Ted, put on his black jeans and combed his hair down. He feels weird. The manager gave him a red vest with a name tag. It's at least two sizes too big for him, awkwardly sticking up at the shoulders. Apparently, it's all they have. Mike walks out into the main area, and freezes.

"You gotta be shitting me."

In front of him is none other than Max, with a stack of empty popcorn buckets in hand. Her hair is in a neat ponytail, one strand is framing her face in the front. She's wearing the same uniform, although her vest is definitely the correct size. They both look at each other, faces scrunched. The pause is long, filled with confusion, anger and almost relief.

"Wheeler?" Max breaks the silence. She raises an eyebrow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Mike hisses, trying his best to keep his voice down.

"What are you doing here?" Max shoots back.

"I asked you first."

"I'm working here, idiot. What else am I supposed to do here?" Max says sarcastically, shaking with every word.

"Since when?" Mike's eyebrows furrow so hard they almost connect into a single line.

"Since a week ago," Max says, pauses, then it's like the dots connect in her brain. Her face drops like she just saw a ghost. "Are you the new hire I'm supposed to train?"

Mike takes a second to process her words. Once it clicks, he closes his eyes. It takes all his strength not to scream. Instead he cups his hands over his mouth, breathes in as deep as his lungs physically allow, and breathes out. Max is staring at him, also not very happy about the situation. She shoves the empty popcorn buckets into his hands, nearly pushing him backwards.

"Come on. Lets get this over with," she grumbles, rolling her eyes.

Max is a surprisingly good trainer. She explains everything in simple terms, not forgetting to tease and insult Mike in between. He shoots back with a few of his own remarks, but actually retains the information pretty well. How the popcorn machines work, along with the registers. How to book a movie, the rules, where the staff area is and how lunch breaks work. It's a lot, but Mike manages.

"So," Max says once they're done with training. She drums on the counter with her fingers.

"So?" Mike stretches, eyebrows furrowed.

"Why did you apply?"

"Uh.. Money?"

"You can't just ask your parents?" Max leans back on the counter, arms crossed on her chest.

"I need more than a few bucks," Mike rolls his eyes. Then his face softens, gets more serious. "And I want to earn it myself. Through honest, hard labor. Or whatever. You?"

"Money," Max nods. Then she adds quietly. "And free movie tickets."

"They give employees free movie tickets?" Mike lights up.

"Sometimes," Max shrugs.

Mike gets lost in thought, immediately coming up with a plan to take Will out to see a movie, and for free, at that. His eyes sparkle with excitement, and just imagining it brings a dopey smile on his face. Them sitting together, in the dark. Sharing one popcorn bucket. Their elbows brushing. Maybe they could even hook their pinkies together. Or if it's a horror movie, Will might get scared and cling to Mike for protection.

Max coughing drags him back to reality.

"You gonna stand there, or do some 'honest, hard labor'?" she mocks, pointing towards the front door as a wave of people walks in. Mike sighs.

His first day didn't go too bad. The theater wasn't too packed, he managed to do all his tasks under Max's keen eye. He only made two mistakes, which isn't awful. There were a few spilled popcorn buckets after the movies ended, and he had to clean them up. He was expecting much worse. Deep down he feels relieved that Max is here, but he won't ever admit it out loud.

After a long day, they leave the building, exhausted. They smell like burnt butter, sweat and regret. They just sit on a bench for a bit, not saying anything. Mike feels overwhelmed. He doesn't remember the last time he interacted with so many people in one day, or stayed on his feet so much. His lower back is aching, his feet are burning and his head is throbbing.

"So, how do you feel?" Max speaks up. It feels like a hammer to Mike's skull.

"Fine, I guess," he breathes out, shrugging. He wants to rip the dress shirt off of his body and just drop into his bed.

"You got lucky. It was a slow day."

Mike internally screams, imagining what a 'fast' day could possibly look like. He leans back, practically melting into the bench. He lets his eyelids fall closed.

"So what do you need the money for?" Max speaks up again. Mike hums, confused. "Like, for something in particular, or.. just, like, in general?"

"Something in particular," Mike blurts out before he can catch it. He shuts his eyes tighter.

"Gonna tell me what it is?"

"No."

"Fine," Max huffs and leans back against the bench, turning away from Mike. There's a pause.

"And you?"

"Something in particular," Max mumbles, looking down at the ground.

"Gonna tell me what-"

"A gift," Max interrupts. Mike's face softens, along with his voice.

"Okay. Me, too," Mike whispers, still keeping his eyes closed.

"Okay."

___

When Mike gets home it's already dark outside. He walks in, and sees Karen and Nancy at the kitchen table. Their eyes snap at him.

"Michael!" Karen exclaims, standing up from the table. Her chair scrapes against the floorboards, making Mike wince. Before he knows it, Karen hugs him tight. "How did it go?"

"It was.. good. I think," Mike wheezes from how hard Karen is squeezing him. He swears he can hear his spine crack.

Karen pulls back and cups his cheeks. She looks at him. Really looks at him. A proud, warm smile spreads on her face. Her eyes sparkle with joy, but there's some sadness behind it as well. It's that feeling of kids growing up too fast. She holds his cheeks like he's still twelve years old, but she has to look up at him now. His shoulders are broad, his voice is so much deeper. She gives his cheek one last pat and pulls away.

"Are you hungry, honey?" she asks, there's a crack to her voice.

"Uh.. I think I wanna shower first," Mike mumbles, looking down at his torso.

"Will has been calling you," Nancy speaks up from the table. Mike's ears perk up.

"He has?"

"I told him you were busy and you'll call later," Nancy's voice is gentle. She smiles a little.

Mike's body is fighting against itself. He flinches towards his room, towards the kitchen, the shower. His arms hang uselessly in the air, and his mouth is open. He wants to do everything at once. He is hungry, he does need to shower, but most of all, he wants to talk to Will. God, he wants to talk to Will so badly. Karen and Nancy watch him, confused. He blinks hard a few times, setting his brain back in place.

"I'll be back," he shuts his eyes and points vaguely in their direction.

He doesn't wait for a response, just darts upstairs like his life depends on it. Maybe it does. He gets to his room in a few long strides, panting. He rips the dress shirt off, and throws it in his laundry basket. He starts unbuckling his belt, but gets impatient. The walkie is taunting him.

"Fuck it," he whispers to himself, abandons the belt and just grabs the walkie. He presses the button with a trembling finger. "Will? Are you there? Over."

Pause. Mike is about to return to his previous task, until a voice comes through.

"Yeah, I'm here. Over," Will's voice. He sounds a little more serious than usual.

"Hey, you okay?" Mike picks up on it immediately. He plops down on his bed, the mattress creaking beneath him. The cool blanket pressing against his bare back feels like heaven.

"Yeah, just.. hold on. One sec," Will says, sounding a little cautious. Mike can hear the door creak open, steps, another door opens, closes shut, creaking of the floorboards, and finally Will sitting down. By the sounds of wind Mike deducts that Will is on the front porch. "Um.. I've wanted to talk to you about something. It's.. Something.. happened. Over."

"Like what?" Mike's voice is filled with genuine concern. He immediately sits up, and his mind starts racing at light speed.

"It's nothing bad!" Will immediately reassures. "I mean, maybe.. Kind of. It's.. Um.. I think Jane knows. About.. You know.. Us."

Mike's breath hitches. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, desperately trying to collect his thoughts. His exhaustion definitely isn't helping. A sense of panic rises in his chest, squeezing his lungs shut.

"Mike?" Will speaks up, worried.

"Yeah, I'm here. Sorry," Mike clears his throat. It feels raw. "How.. How does she know?"

"Your note," Will says. It almost sounds humorous.

"Oh. Right," Mike breathes out. He shuts his eyes tight.

"Yeah."

"Is she.. okay? Like, okay with it?" Mike says, still scrambling and trying to word himself properly.

"I don't know," Will's voice goes higher.

"What do you mean?" Mike's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"We just.. We didn't really talk about it? She didn't even directly say that she knows it's you, just.. hinted at it. And I panicked, and just ran into my room basically, and have been avoiding her all week since then," Will lets out a dry chuckle. It's definitely from the nerves, and not actually finding this funny.

"So.. you didn't tell her?"

"No, no. I didn't."

"Okay," Mike takes a deep breath, thinking. It lasts a few seconds, and this time Will stays quiet, too. Like he knows that Mike is deep in thought. "We should tell her. Soon."

"Yeah," Will's voice sounds rough. It makes Mike's heart skip a beat. "Do you wanna do it together?"

"I don't know. Probably. Maybe," Mike shrugs. He genuinely isn't sure. He never thought about it this far.

"We could talk about it tomorrow, in person. I don't wanna have this conversation over walkies."

"Yeah. Me, too," Mike chuckles and feels his body relax a little.

"So, how's your day been? Nancy said you were busy," Will's voice is relaxed, but it makes Mike tense up all over again.

"Um.. Just, you know, chores," Mike shrugs. His voice is a few octaves too high, he's stumbling over his words. He does not sound convincing, at all.

"Right," Will stretches sarcastically, but doesn't push further.

They talk for another fifteen minutes. Will tells Mike about his day, in vivid detail. Mike is laying on his back, belt still half unbuckled. He's intently listening, nodding along and laughing as if Will can see it. He forgets about his exhaustion and stress, that he was supposed to shower and the dinner that's probably waiting for him downstairs. All he cares about is Will. His voice, his giggles, his stories. He could listen to it all forever without getting tired.

"Oh, Jonathan's back," Will gets interrupted. A crunch of grass beneath car tires can be heard. "I gotta go, okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Mike says, voice a little rough from not saying much in the last fifteen minutes. "Goodnight, Will."

"Goodnight, Mike."

Click. Static.

Mike drops the walkie on the mattress next to him, and lets out a long sigh. He feels refreshed, alive. The excitement sends lightnings throughout his body. The tips of his fingers itch. He doesn't even notice the dopey grin splitting his face in half. He just lays there for a bit, smiling with his eyes closed.

There's a quiet knock on his door. That wakes him up. He only has the energy to hum.

"Mike, it's me," Nancy's voice. It's quiet, careful.

"Come in," Mike mumbles, still half asleep. He sits up.

Nancy opens the door and walks in. At first she just looks around, like it's her first time being here. She takes note of how much cleaner the room is than usual. Then her eyes land on Mike, who's staring at her with furrowed eyebrows and frowning, just like he did as a kid. He nods at her, silently asking what she wants.

"Here," Nancy reaches into her pocket, pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to Mike.

He looks at her, still confused, then looks at the paper. It's a coupon for two free milkshakes. He looks back up at Nancy, even more confused.

"Why are you giving me this?" he asks flatly.

"To celebrate your first day at work?" she says, shrugging.

"Where did you get this?"

"Oh, someone at work gave it to me. I'm not gonna use it, so you can have it. You could invite someone along, too," Nancy rambles. Her gestures are a bit more dramatic than usual.

Then she just looks at Mike. There's something in that stare that he can't quite decode. He looks back at the coupon, rubbing the paper between his fingertips. Something ignites in his brain. He could take Will. Could get them both milkshakes. It could be their first date, finally. Mike bites down the smirk threatening to spread on his face, then looks back up at Nancy.

"Yeah, thanks," he breathes out, nodding. Tries to keep his voice as steady and casual as possible. He puts the coupon away on his desk.

"You're welcome," Nancy nods back, but doesn't move. She stays at the door, arms crossed, looking at her brother, almost like she's expecting something.

"Anything else?" Mike asks after a pause.

"No, no," Nancy shakes her head and finally opens the door. Before leaving, she stops and looks back at Mike. "Go shower."

"I was about-"

Door slams shut.

"-to do that."

Mike sighs and falls back on the mattress. That was kind of unusual.

___

The next day Mike bikes to Will's house right after breakfast. When he gets there, Will is already waiting for him on the front porch, nervously shifting on his feet. His hair is exceptionally fluffy. It's a bit colder today, so he has a flannel layered over a shirt and shorts.

"Hey," Mike says, smiling like an idiot. He's panting from how fast he biked here. He could really use a car.

"Hey," Will says back, stepping off the front porch and pulling Mike into a tight hug.

Mike's arm instinctively wraps around Will's waist, while the other arm is still holding up his bike. Will is hugging him by the neck, chin tucked into his shoulder. Mike is a little taken aback by how open this is, but he doesn't mind at all. They close their eyes and breathe each other in for a few seconds.

"You know.. I was thinking," Will murmurs into the fabric of Mike's shirt. "Maybe we could go to the mall today?"

Mike pulls back a little, just enough to look Will in the eyes. Mike's eyebrows shoot up.

"I was gonna say the same thing," he sounds genuinely surprised. Will chuckles in response.

"You didn't mention that," Will whispers, referencing their usual morning call.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Mike rolls his eyes. He tries to sound annoyed, but fails miserably. They both end up laughing.

"Okay," Will is still giggling. He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. Then something else sparks up in his gaze. "So.. is this.."

"A date? If you mean a date, then yes. It is a date. If you want it to be," Mike rambles nervously, barely pausing between words. He's blushing so hard he almost looks sunburnt again.

"I do want that," Will whispers, looking up at Mike like he hung the stars.

They just stare at each other, with giddy grins splitting their faces. They're both buzzing with excitement. After yesterday, Mike wants to hold Will so bad. Being completely away from him for a whole day felt like torture. Despite that, he holds back. He finally lets go of Will, grabbing his bike with both hands.

He's about to say something, but then Will puts his hand on his shoulder, stands up on his tippy toes and pecks Mike on the cheek. Mike freezes. His heart drops. He glances at Will, then at the house, scanning and listening for any sounds or movement. Will's face drops immediately.

"Oh, god, I- I'm sorry! No one's home!" Will scrambles, waving his hands around in a panic.

"Oh," Mike sighs in relief. Now it makes sense why Will was hugging him so openly.

"Sorry," Will's face shifts into a guilty expression.

"No, no. It's okay," Mike reassures and reaches to grab Will's hand, now a lot more confident with this new knowledge.

"I should've told you."

"It's okay, Will. I didn't mind," Mike smirks. He watches Will take a deep breath to calm down. "You look really pretty."

Will's efforts to calm his breathing go right out the window. His breath hitches, and his face gains a rosy pink tint in a blink of an eye. His lips stretch into a wide flustered smile, and he looks down to the ground. Mike squeezes his hand. Will squeezes back. He doesn't say anything, just nods, still looking down.

Mike lets go of his bike, lets it fall to the ground. That startles Will, making him lift his eyes back up at Mike. Mike uses his now free hand to gently cup Will's cheek. He leans down and kisses him.

He can taste the faint minty flavor on Will's lips. Their lips move in unison. It's gentle and shy, but also electrifying. Will's hand lands somewhere on Mike's hip, squeezing the hem of his shirt. A few faint breaths escape in between the kisses. Mike doesn't want this to end, ever.

Eventually Will presses his palm into Mike's chest, gently pushing him away. Their faces separate with a loud smack, which makes Will laugh. It takes Mike a second to catch up, realize that the kiss is over. He slowly opens his eyes, still dazed.

"Okay," Will, still laughing, pats Mike's chest a few times, then steps away. "Come on. Lets go."

Will walks over to his bike and gets on it. Mike stands there, watching him, then finally wakes up and rushes to pick up his own bike off the ground. It's clumsy. His heart is still pounding hard and fast against his ribs.

The ride to the mall was mostly quiet. The two shared a few shy glances, smirks and giggles, but tried to focus on the road for the most part. They park their bikes, and walk inside. It's less crowded than it usually is on the weekends, but still pretty loud. Mike keeps reaching into his back pocket, making sure the coupon Nancy gave him is still there.

"You wanna get milkshakes?" he blurts out. Will's head snaps at him, like he's been thinking about something, too.

"Yeah," Will nods and gives Mike a sweet smile. Mike can't help but smile back.

They pass a few milkshake places on their way. Mike tries to come up with excuses as to why they can't go in those. From shitty flavors to high prices or bad vibes. Ultimately, the place the coupon applies in is on the second floor. Mike is already tired. Also very nervous and excited.

"Find us a table, okay?" Mike says, voice light and gentle. He points towards the tables in front of the shop. Will looks a little confused, but nods.

Some time later Mike comes out with two free milkshakes, proud. He scans his surroundings, looking for that familiar fluffy bowl cut, and sees it in the corner. He darts in that direction, carefully avoiding bumping into people and spilling the drinks. Will meets his eyes, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Woah," all Will says, mouth wide open.

These shakes are not just simple cheap ones they're used to. These have syrup swirling around, whipped cream on top, even sprinkles. Will's eyes light up like he's a kid in a toy store. Mike sets the strawberry drink in front of Will, sits down and sets his own vanilla shake down on his side. Then he sees two burgers already on their table. Now Mike is the one feeling surprised.

"What's this?" he asks, voice high pitched and eyebrows furrowed.

"Those are called burgers," Will says sarcastically. He takes a sip of his shake and his eyebrows shoot all the way up into his hairline. "How did you get these?"

"Just went up to the register and asked," Mike says flatly and shrugs. Will scoffs in response, rolling his eyes.

"I'm serious, Mike. These are expensive."

"Don't worry about it. Just enjoy it," Mike waves his hand dismissively and smirks, proud. He takes a sip of his own shake.

It's a little too sweet for him, but he doesn't mind. With a view of Will's excited face he could be drinking gasoline without complaint. Then he goes to take a bite of the burger. That does not taste cheap, either. He furrows his brows again.

"How much were these?" he asks, peeling the bun away to look at the contents, as if he will find the answer there.

"Don't worry about it. Just enjoy it," Will mocks, smirking.

Mike can only laugh in response. He shakes his head, smirking. Will seems to enjoy teasing him. They take a few more sips, a few more bites. The mall is noisy around them. It smells like fast food, ice cream and a little bit like bleach. Mike swirls his shake around, watching the tiny black specks of vanilla swim around the cup.

"Nancy gave me a coupon. For the milkshakes," he admits. Will looks up at him. He doesn't say anything at first, then his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Jonathan gave me a coupon. For the burgers," Will says slowly.

"Huh?" Mike's face scrunches. He puts his elbows on the table and leans closer. Will does the same. A long pause stretches between them.

"Do you think they," Will starts.

"Were gonna go on a date here?"

"Then they had a fight?"

"And just gave us the coupons so they don't go to waste?"

They both pause, putting the pieces together. It clicks for them at the same time. They look at each other and nod, repeatedly. They exchange a million more words with just their eyes. In sync, they lean back in their seats, think a little more, then lean over the table again, even closer. They're practically breathing on each other's lips.

"Did Nancy say anything to you?" Will whispers, cautious.

"No," Mike shakes his head, then recalls something and gasps. "She was acting a little weird, actually."

"Weird how?"

"Like, nervous, I guess? She said a coworker gave her the coupon, but it doesn't really make sense. These are expensive. Coworkers don't just randomly give you these," Mike points to their drinks. He's in strategist mode, focused and serious, tracing his fingers over the table like he's putting together a battle plan. Will nods along, listening intently.

"Jonathan was also acting weird," Will joins, just as serious. "He said that he got it from a friend, but wouldn't say who. Said it doesn't matter. And he just avoided all my questions."

"That's weird," Mike whispers, deep in thought.

"They're so confusing," Will mumbles and leans back in his seat, throwing his head back in frustration.

"I know," Mike grabs their drinks and presses the cups together. "One day they're together."

"Then they break up," Will groans. Mike separates the cups.

"Then they're back together? Maybe?" he pushes the cups back together, hesitating and raising his eyebrow.

"Then they fight," Will rolls his eyes. Mike separates the cups again.

They both sigh, tired. Suddenly Mike remembers that this is supposed to be their date, and they haven't really done anything romantic since they got here. It's not like he feels awkward, quite the opposite actually. He's having a lot of fun. Sometimes he forgets that before all else, this is his childhood best friend sitting in front of him.

He loves kissing him and holding him, of course. He loves him. But he also loves joking around with him, gossiping, regressing back to those little nerds they used to be, just excited about their shared interests. They're still those two kiddos, just all grown up.

A warm smile spreads on Mike's face. He looks around, then carefully moves his foot to meet Will's. That makes Will flinch for a second, but once he figures out what's going on, he nudges Mike back. His shoulders slouch, and he's leaning over the table again, trying to hide his flushed cheeks.

"You know, I do hope that they make up and go on another date," Mike starts, sipping on his drink. "But.."

"But?" Will says after a brief pause, raising an eyebrow.

"But I'm kind of glad they didn't," Mike stares deep into his cup and shrugs playfully. He hears Will scoff, and looks up at him, wiggling his eyebrows. "Because I got to take you out."

"Oh my god," Will kicks Mike's ankle and rolls his eyes. Mike laughs in response.

"I'm not gonna rely on coupons, though. I promise," Mike switches back to his serious voice, looking at Will with all the sincerity he has. Will's face softens.

"Okay," Will nods, trying to hide his smile.

After the milkshakes they went to the arcade. It's very different from the one they used to go to years ago, but it's still fun. Mike insists on paying. Luckily he dug up some of his savings while looking through his room. Will tries to resist at first, but Mike is stubborn. They end up playing a few games, and Mike keeps letting Will win on purpose. The other boy quickly picks up on it.

"Mike, stop doing that," Will complains when he wins another game.

"Doing what?" Mike replies, trying to sound innocent.

"Letting me win. You're barely pressing your buttons."

"I'm not," Mike stretches. Will just looks at him, face plain.

"You can't pay for me, and let me win. Just play how you would with anyone else. Imagine I'm Max."

"I would rather not," Mike scrunches his face in disgust. Will laughs at him.

"Fine, just.. Just play normally, okay?" Will pleads, looking at Mike with his big bright eyes.

Mike folds, and they play the next round normally.

Mike loses.

This really takes him back to their childhood. How they would excitedly run to the arcade to play the newest games. How they competed with each other. How Mike always tried to bring extra quarters for Will. He would sneakily drop them into Will's pocket, just so he could feel included and they could play for longer.

Mike has always been looking out for Will in a million small ways, before he could even put a name to those feelings. Before the shame, before the judgement.

After losing another round, Mike smacks the machine in frustration.

"Ow," he clutches his hand.

"I told you to play normally," Will complains again.

"I was," Mike says as sincerely as possible. He frowns.

"Oh," Will tries to hold back a laugh, but fails. It quickly turns into a belly laugh.

"Okay, okay," Mike rolls his eyes. He tries to sound angry. "This machine is stupid. It doesn't work properly. Lets just go do something else."

"Hold on," still giggling, Will gently grabs Mike's shoulder. Mike immediately stops in his tracks and gives his full attention to Will. It takes Will a few seconds to calm down. "Can we just.. go somewhere quiet?"

The look in his eyes becomes more serious, and Mike gets reminded of the Jane conversation they are supposed to have today. He traps his bottom lip between his teeth, and nods.

___

The two of them ended up on a field. It's quiet, there's no one around, and the sun is slowly drifting towards the horizon. The sky is full of clouds, but in between them there's a soft orange glow. The boys park their bikes and sit on the grass, knocking their knees together. The air feels crisp.

"Are you cold?" Mike asks, looking at Will's shorts that end a little above his knees.

"I'm okay, Mike," Will reassures. He looks in front of him, takes in the view. His smile slowly fades away, replaced with an expression of worry. He takes a deep, shaky breath. "So.."

"Jane."

"Yeah," Will closes his eyes. He presses his knees to his chest. "How do you wanna tell her?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me," Mike replies and lets out a dry chuckle. Then he sighs.

"I told you. I'm at your pace," Will's voice is smooth and silky. He watches Mike chew on the inside of his cheek nervously. "Do you want me to be there with you?"

"Yeah. Definitely," Mike nods rapidly. "I might die if I do it alone."

"Okay," Will says softly. He reaches one of his hands out, lightly brushing Mike's fingers with his own. Not interlacing, not fully embracing, but enough to comfort. He sees the corners of Mike's mouth twitch up.

"Do you think she'll.. be okay with it? With us?" Mike asks, unsure. Will pauses, thinking.

"I think she will," Will nods. "But it's still.."

"Scary," Mike finishes for him.

"Terrifying."

They both chuckle. This really is terrifying, even after everything they've been through. Obviously, the Party has accepted Will, and he's the happiest he's ever been, but this is different. No matter what, there's this worry that things could change. That the dynamic in the group could change, and not in a good way.

Mike is so new to all of this. The two of them haven't actually talked about Mike's sexuality in detail. Sure, it's clear that he's at least a little attracted to men, or at least to Will. But Mike hasn't actually put a label on it. Not in his mind, nor in words.

"Should we.. buy her something? Like, a gift?" Mike speaks up.

"You wanna bribe her to accept us?" Will half jokes.

"No! I just- I don't know!" Mike's voice goes high. His mind is racing. He starts to feel frustrated.

"Mike," Will says and finally interlaces their fingers, successfully shutting Mike up. "We should just talk to her. Plain and simple. Just say it how it is."

"Yeah," Mike whispers and weakly nods. He looks forward, where the sun is almost touching the horizon, glowing red. "Should we just do it now?"

"Do you wanna do it now?"

"Will, please. Don't leave all of this to me," Mike whines playfully. He's kidding, but also he does kind of want Will to take the lead here.

"You need to be ready. And I can't decide that for you, Mike. I will be right there with you, but it's your decision," Will doesn't budge. He squeezes Mike's hand harder, reassuring and grounding.

Mike looks down at their connected hands, and his worried face softens a little. A warm smile spreads on his face, but his eyebrows are still curved anxiously. He thinks about it for a bit, chewing on the inside of his cheek, lightly rocking his body back and forth. This is terrifying. Like he's bracing to jump off a cliff.

But then he looks at Will. His Will, looking back at him with those bright green eyes, filled with undeniable love and adoration. The sun is reflecting off of them in gold specks, like daisies on a field. Mike could drown in them and not complain. A warmth settles itself in his belly, spreading. The tension slowly leaves his body, replaced by determination.

"I'm ready," he says, confident and brave.

___

Once they get to Will's house, that bravery is almost entirely gone. Almost. Mike's heart is racing and his legs feel like jello, but with Will next to him he feels like he can do it. On their way here he played out all possible outcomes of this in his head, mainly the bad ones. He hopes that if he expects the worst, the actual outcome won't feel as awful.

"She should be home now, right?" he whispers, squeezing his bike so hard his knuckles go white from the pressure.

"Yeah," Will nods towards Jane's window. The light is on, contrasting against the darkness surrounding it.

Mike takes a deep breath, then another one. This is getting real. This is real. He takes one last breath, as deep as his lungs physically allow, and breathes out.

Jane is in her room, reading a book. She's in bed, laying on her stomach, completely focused on the words. The two boys peek through the crack in her door, then look at each other. Will asks Mike if he's ready with just his eyes. Mike nods, determined. They walk towards the door and Mike lightly knocks on it, not to startle Jane. Her head snaps towards the sound. When she sees who it is, her face shifts into something uncertain.

"Come in," she says, putting the book away and sitting up.

At first Mike waits for Will to walk in, but the other boy doesn't move. Mike lets out a short, frustrated sigh, then walks in first, awkwardly lingering in the doorframe. Will is right behind him, like he promised. Jane looks at them, analyzing.

"Hey," Mike breathes out after a pause. He feels like his throat is contracting around every syllable.

"Hi," Jane replies. She doesn't sound upset, confused or happy. It has that slightly flat tone that is so uniquely her.

"We, uh.. We want to talk to you, if that's okay?" Mike mumbles, fidgeting. He's messing with the hem of his shirt with one hand, the other scratching at his thumb.

Jane looks at him, and something in her face shifts, softens. She nods, and points to the chair in front of her, inviting Mike to sit. He fumbles at first, looking at Will and back at Jane like a lost puppy. He doesn't sit down right away, expecting Will to do it, but Will just sighs. He lightly pushes Mike's shoulder, ultimately making him sit down. He stands right behind the chair, still a comforting presence. Jane looks at them, expecting. Mike takes a sharp breath.

"Okay," Mike starts, stretching out every syllable like he's delaying the inevitable. His palms are sweaty, and he wipes them on his pants. "Well.. You probably already know this, but you deserve to hear it directly. I.. Um.. Will and I are dating."

He shuts his eyes immediately, bracing for a reaction. A silence stretches between the three of them. No one is saying anything. All that can be heard is the house creaking under the evening wind. Mike feels Will's hand slip on his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into the fabric of his shirt. He doesn't even realize that he's holding his breath. It comes out ragged and shaky.

He slowly opens his eyes to meet Jane's. She's looking back at him, smiling so warm and wide it makes his breath hitch. Her big brown eyes are so full of understanding and love. They sparkle under her lamp and little fairy lights hung above her window. She looks at the two boys, with all the love she has for them.

"You love him, right?" first thing she says.

"Yes. I love him. So much," Mike answers immediately, no hesitation. Will's grip on his shoulder tightens. Mike's bottom lip starts to wobble, but he fights it, keeps talking despite his shaking voice. "I think I've always loved him, our entire lives. N- Not that I never loved you or anything like that! I did! I really did, but.."

"It was different?" she finishes for him.

"I'm sorry," Mike sighs and looks down at the floor. His voice shakes more with every words he says. "I hurt you so much, and I wish it could've been different. I wish things weren't so.. confusing back then. I didn't even know how relationships work, and just dragged you into one. You needed time to- To find yourself. Not a boyfriend."

"Mike," Jane says softly and reaches out. Mike gladly takes her hand, holding back tears. Jane puts her other palm on top of his. "I will forever be grateful for everything you've given me. What all of you have given me. All the good, and the bad. You don't have to keep apologizing."

Mike chuckles to himself. Her and Will really are like twins. Always so kind and forgiving, no matter how many times Mike fucks up. He's so happy to have them both in his life. Then Jane's soft tone hardens, along with her grip on Mike's hand.

"But if you hurt him," Jane shoots a glance at Will. She doesn't finish her sentence, but Mike gets the sentiment, nodding.

"I give you permission to kill me if that happens," Mike half jokes. Everyone in the room laughs, finally easing the atmosphere. Then Mike hears quiet sobs behind him, and immediately turns around to face Will. His bottom lip is wobbling and he has a few hot tracks on his cheeks.

"Are you happy?" Jane asks Will. He doesn't answer at first, trying to steady his breathing.

"Yeah. I am," Will finally answers, nodding. He lets out a wet chuckle.

Jane stretches her arms out, and the two boys immediately lunge towards her. She embraces them in a tight hug. Both boys hide their faces in her shoulders, squeezing her tight back. For a little while the room gets filled with happy sobs, wet laughs and whispers.

"Do the others know?" Jane asks once they reluctantly separate. Both boys shake their heads, wiping off their leftover tears.

"You're the first," Mike says.

Jane's eyebrows curve together, and her bottom lip starts to wobble like never before. Fresh happy tears run down her face, and the three embrace each other once again.

___

It's already dark outside, and the rest of the Byers family is gonna come back soon. Mike and Will are on the front porch, faces blotchy and snotty. Mike has to go home now, but they refuse to let this day end. They're just mumbling to each other, kicking pebbles around. Stalling. Will is already getting cold, rubbing his calves against each other, trying to warm up. Mike picks up on it.

"Okay, I gotta go now," he says with sadness in his voice.

"I guess you do," Will groans and rolls his eyes. Mike chuckles at him.

He gently cups Will's cheeks, pulls him closer and connects their lips. It's gentle and tender. They stay like that, eyes closed, savoring the moment. Mike feels sunshine blooming in his chest, bright and warm. Will gently grabs his wrists, for that extra contact. Eventually they separate, but not too far. Just enough to lock eyes.

"Did I do good? With the date?" Mike asks.

"Yeah," Will nods with a bright shy smile.

"Good," Mike nods back. He's holding Will by the neck, tracing gentle lines into the skin with his thumbs.

"It's getting late," Will says, trying to sound convincing, but the look on his face says the opposite.

Mike stretches his lips into a tight line, nodding. Then he pulls Will into a hug, tugging his face into the crook of his neck. Will immediately embraces him back, without hesitation. He wraps his arms tight around Mike's back, bunching up his shirt with his fists. Mike feels his skin sting, from the leftover sunburn, but he doesn't mind. He feels so much lighter now that they've talked to Jane.

The two reluctantly separate. Mike gets on his bike, and before he leaves, Will pecks him on the cheek. That makes Mike smile like a dork, huffing out a laugh. Will isn't much better.

"I love you," Will whispers.

"I love you, too," Mike whispers back.

___

The next day Mike has a shift. He came in an unusually good mood. Sure, he would definitely rather spend the day with Will, but this will give Mike more money to spoil him. Hell, he even arrived on time. The theater is quiet right now, and Mike busies himself with setting everything up for the day. Behind him a door opens, steps can be heard, then he feels a firm, loud slap to his back, undoing all the healing his sunburn has done in the last week.

He keels over in pain, hissing and groaning, rubbing his back. He can physically feel an outline of a palm.

"Morning," it's Max. Of course, it's Max. Her voice is calm, but a little sleepy. She just leans over the counter like nothing happened.

"Did you have to do that?" Mike wheezes, slowly standing up.

"Yup," Max says, looking up at what movies they're showing today. She clicks her tongue. "Brace yourself, Wheeler. Today's gonna be a doozy."

"Oh. Great. Amazing," Mike says sarcastically, face all scrunched. His lifted spirit is completely gone now, and he's been here for just ten minutes.

Max was not wrong. They're barely three hours into the shift, and Mike already wants to die. He got yelled at by a few rude customers, spilled a bunch of popcorn, earning himself a death stare from the manager and Max. He isn't sure which one is worse. After the first movie people left so much spilled over food and trash. Mike spent about twenty minutes bending and maneuvering between the seats, trying to clean all of it before the next movie.

His back is already killing him. He goes back out to Max, and from there the workload slows down a bit. Mike can catch his breath. He's leaning against the counter, trying not to fall over. His eyes glide around the theater, until they land on two familiar silhouettes. It takes him a second to focus, and when he does, his heart drops. He immediately ducks under the counter, hiding.

It's Will and Jane. They walked in together, smiling and laughing. In the morning, over the walkie, Will did mention having plans with Jane today. It worked out for Mike, but he didn't know the 'plans' included going to see a movie specifically here. They usually get tapes and watch them at home.

Mike tries to make himself as small as possible, his long limbs making it a difficult task. Max looks down at him, very confused.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asks. Mike shushes her and pulls her down by her arm, panicked.

"I'm hiding," he whispers, but it still comes out too loud.

"Why?" Max raises an eyebrow, now also whispering.

"Are they there?" Mike completely ignores the question.

Max just looks at him, confused. She slowly peeks over the counter, suspicious. She sees Will and Jane with their backs turned, looking at the movie announcements. Max sighs, and looks back down at Mike with a flat expression. He looks like just he saw a ghost.

"God, you're hopeless," Max says under her breath as she's standing up.

"Are they looking?" Mike asks.

"No. No, they're not looking," Max groans, rolling her eyes.

That's when Mike tries to crawl to the staff room unnoticed. That might just be the least graceful thing Max has ever seen in her life. Mike, all long and gangly, trying to stay as low as possible. His knees crack, and he struggles to breathe. As a bonus, his ankle gets caught in the door on his way in. Max barely manages to hold in a cackle. The door closes behind her, and she turns back to see excited Will and Jane greeting her.

Mike stays low, even in the staff room. Doesn't feel safe to stand back up for some reason. He just sits on the floor, back against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest. This is bad. Really bad.

How did he expect to keep this from Will? Obviously he will find out sooner or later, but Mike didn't think it would happen this soon. Is Will going to be upset? Is he going to be angry that Mike lied to him? A sense of panic nests itself in Mike's chest cavity. He's breathing heavily, and his heart threatens to jump out. He didn't get this spooked by demogorgons.

He spends some time hiding in the staff room, not daring to move. Eventually the door opens with a low creak. First Mike sees a familiar pair of Vans enter, then lifts his eyes to see Max, looking down at him. Her hand is on her hip, and she's clearly annoyed. Mike braces for a wave of insults. Instead, Max closes the door slowly, and crouches down in front of him.

"Gonna tell me what that was?" she asks after a brief pause. Mike throws his head back against the wall and sighs.

"It's.. complicated."

"I don't have time for riddles, Wheeler. Just tell me what's going on," Max groans, but there is a note of worry in her voice. Mike lets out a deep sigh and presses his palms to his face.

"It's.. It's Will. I saw this brush set at the mall, and I wanna buy it for him, but I didn't tell him that I got this job because I want it to be a surprise, and I lied to him about why I couldn't see him, and now he's probably upset that I lied to him, and he's gonna think that I'm a fucking asshole again and I just- I messed it all up again," Mike rambles on, voice wobbly. He keeps going on and on, completely derailing towards the end. He presses his palms harder, to the point he starts seeing shapes, and groans.

Max is looking at him, listening to every word. Her face subtly shifts. Her eyebrows curve, and there's a spark of worry and understanding in her eyes. She grabs Mike's arms and pulls them off his face, despite how much he tries to resist. His eyes are already red and wet. He looks distraught.

"He doesn't know you're here," Max reassures, sounding as sympathetic as she can manage. She doesn't have time for pep talks right now, they're still on the clock. Mike looks at her with wide eyes.

"He doesn't? You didn't.."

"No, I didn't tell him," Max shakes her head. Mike seems to calm down a little. He takes a deep, shaky breath.

"Okay," he breathes out, and takes a few more seconds to calm down. "Uh.. Thanks."

"Sure," Max nods. "You can come out now."

"Huh?" Mike looks at her like she just grew a second head.

"Come back out? To the register? You know, the job you applied to do?" all of Max's previous sympathy got replaced with her usual irritation and sarcasm. She dramatically gestures towards the door.

"Oh. Right," Mike scrambles and clumsily gets back up on his feet. His legs feel a little sore. He turns to the door, but hesitates.

"They're gone. They didn't like any of the movies, so they went to the mall," Max explains, taking note of Mike's demeanor.

"Right," Mike says, barely above a whisper. He quickly rubs his eyes and sniffs. Max sighs at the view.

"You have five minutes to pull yourself together. And don't you dare leave me out there on my own," she presses her finger to his chest, stern. Then she leaves the room, gently closing the door behind her.

The rest of the shift was, as Max put it, a doozy. Mike got yelled at for how bad the movies were, as if he made them. He lost count of how many refunds people have asked for. Some kid puked in their seat, and of course Mike had to clean it. One of the popcorn machines broke mid shift, something that hasn't happened in months. Max joked that Mike brings good luck everywhere he goes. In short, his second shift was the complete opposite of the first one.

When he and Max walk out, he fights the urge to drop to his knees and start kissing the ground, finally free from the torture of employment. Max doesn't even have the energy to tease and make fun of him anymore. They go to the nearest store, feeling half dead, and Max buys both of them hotdogs. They sit on a curb to eat them in silence.

"So," Mike speaks up eventually. His voice is rough, like he's trying to talk while getting choked out. He clears his throat. That doesn't help much. Max hums in response. "You know about my gift. Gonna tell me about yours?"

"If you behave," Max replies lazily, taking a big bite of her hotdog as an excuse to not answer any more questions.

"Whatever," Mike huffs.

Around the corner familiar voices can be heard. Mike's head is spinning a little, so he has to really focus to figure out who the voices belong to. He and Max exchange a quick glance. Mike looks back to the source of the sound, closes his eyes, as if that will help him hear better. Then it clicks.

"Is that Lucas and-"

Mike turns to Max, but she's vanished. Just completely gone. Mike furrows his brows, and for a second considers that maybe he's lost his mind and is currently hallucinating. The popcorn fumes got to him.

"-and Dustin?" he says to himself, and looks around frantically.

Max is nowhere to be seen, like she was never there. The voices get louder, and two familiar figures turn around the corner, stopping once they see Mike. He, however, has to squint really hard to make out the silhouettes on the dimly lit street. He needs to get his eyes checked at some point.

"Micheal Bartholomew Wheeler," Dustin says like he's some kind of gangster meeting face to face with his arch nemesis.

"That's not my-"

Mike doesn't get to finish, as Dustin pulls him into a tight, tight hug. Lucas joins in shortly after, swaying a little.

"You got the job!" Dustin excitedly screams right into Mike's ear, pointing to the red vest in his lap.

"Sure did," Mike mumbles, wincing.

"How is it?" Lucas joins, hands on his hips.

"Well, it's my second day, so," Mike shrugs.

"That's great, man. Really great. I'm proud of you," Lucas sits down on the curb next to Mike, wrapping his arm around his shoulder and shaking him. He's slurring his words a little.

"Are you guys drinking?" Mike asks, a little concerned.

"Just a little," Dustin clarifies. Lucas nods enthusiastically.

"Okay," Mike is unimpressed. He lazily gets out of Lucas' embrace and stands up on his feet. "It's getting late, so go home."

"We are literally in the middle of doing that," Dustin says sarcastically. He bends down to pull Lucas off the curb.

"And why are you still here?" Lucas mumbles, leaning on Dustin to keep his balance.

"Snack after a long shift," Mike shows them the empty hotdog wrapper.

"Ah," Lucas stretches and nods slowly. He clumsily steps closer to Mike, clapping him on the shoulder so hard he nearly knocks him off balance. "I'm happy for you. I mean it."

"Thanks," Mike says, a little strained from the pain.

"Me, too," Dustin adds, clapping Mike's other shoulder.

"Jesus Christ, just go!" Mike angrily swats their hands off of him.

"Okay. Goodnight," Dustin says through a laugh. He waves Mike goodbye, and they finally leave.

Mike stands there, watching them, making sure they don't trip and fall over and die. After about thirty seconds, the two blend into the darkness, and their loud voices, now even louder than usual from the alcohol, can't be heard.

"Are they gone?" Max says, making Mike physically jump back.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Mike yelps, then lets out a long, frustrated sigh. He whips his head around, looking for any possible hiding spots Max could've emerged from. "Where the hell did you go?!"

"Did Lucas say anything?" Max ignores the question.

"I- You- Just," Mike stutters, then stops to collect his thoughts together instead of just shouting out random words. Then it clicks. "Your gift is for Lucas. Of course."

"Shut up," Max hisses. She reaches to press her hand over his mouth, but he dodges.

"I'm not- I'm not making fun of you! I swear."

Max looks at him, face scrunched in anger, then it slowly softens. She drops back on the curb, face buried in her hands. Mike carefully sits down next to her. For some time he just listens to Max groaning. Then she peels her hands away from her face with a huff.

"He really wanted this jersey jacket. Said he wants to wear it at university, make a good first impression," Max chuckles. Her lips stretch into a small smile, reserved exclusively for Lucas. It even gives her eyes a certain sparkle. "It's really expensive, though, and he's given up on getting it. I wanna buy it for him."

"And you didn't tell him about the job?" Mike asks carefully, almost like he's approaching an angry lion.

"No, I didn't," Max leans back on her hands and sighs.

Her and Mike exchange an understanding glance. Mike almost chuckles. They're in the same boat, pretty much. Both in this together.

"How about.. I keep your secret, and you keep mine?" Mike says quietly. Max slowly turns to him, then nods.

"Sure. Deal," she tries to sound like she doesn't care, but by her eyes it's clear that she's relieved.

"Deal," Mike breathes out.

___

After showering and quickly eating dinner, Mike plops into bed, completely exhausted. He hasn't talked to Will since this morning, and it's eating him from the inside out. He's craving it, like craving water in the middle of a hot desert. Like his lungs crave air. He doesn't waste any time calling Will.

"Will, you still up?" Mike asks. It is pretty late now.

"Yeah. Hi," Will says, and it sends pleasant shivers all over Mike's body. It's like a warm blanket wrapping around him on a cold day.

"Sorry, I was busy all day," Mike can't fight the happy grin spreading on his face.

"It's okay. Me, too," Will pauses, but doesn't let go of the button to let Mike speak. Mike waits patiently. "There's.. something I need to tell you. Nothing bad."

"Okay," Mike chuckles at how quickly Will started clarifying if things are not bad. It does help, though.

"Well, Jonathan has to go back to New York tomorrow, for work. He has to stay for about a week, then come back. He said I could tag along. Would that.. be okay?"

"O- Of course! Why wouldn't it be?" Mike says, trying to sound excited, but his voice cracks a little.

He feels a little uneasy about it. These past few weeks the thought of Will eventually moving away hasn't even crossed his mind. He did his best not to think about it, and Will hasn't really talked about it much with him. Maybe he sees how Mike's mood shifts whenever the topic is brought up.

On top of that, Mike has gotten so used to Will always being around, and now that they're dating, he can barely go a day without seeing him or at the very least talking to him. It immediately reminds him of when the Byers' moved away. But then something else lights up in Mike's brain. Maybe this could work for him. He sits up on the bed, already constructing a plan in his head.

"It's just.. I don't know," Will mumbles on the other end.

"Will, you should go. See the city, have fun. I'm serious," Mike says, confident.

"Are you sure?"

"Totally."

"Okay," Will sighs. "I'll be back in a week."

"Exactly! It's just one week," Mike reassures.

"Yeah."

"When do you leave?"

"At six in the morning," Will groans. Mike can hear a mattress creaking. Will is probably shifting around on his bed. "I've been packing a little. Just wanted to check in with you first."

"I'll be okay, don't worry about me."

"I wish we could see each other before I leave," Will whispers. His raspy voice sends electric shocks up Mike's spine.

"Me, too," Mike groans, fighting the urge to beg Will to stay instead.

"I'll call when I can."

"And I'll be right here, waiting," Mike deepens his voice a little, trying to sound romantic.

"Okay," Will laughs at him.

"You should rest. Get some good sleep, okay?" Mike says softly and turns over to his side. His eyelids suddenly feel heavy.

"Okay. Goodnight, Mike," Will's voice is as soft as ever.

"Goodnight, Will."

Mike puts the walkie away with a long sigh. The realization of Will leaving is squeezing his heart tight, it feels like it's about to burst. But at the same time, this could work out for him. He could spend this next week working extra hard, earn some extra money, and if he's lucky, he could earn enough to get him that brush set.

He's scared to imagine how exhausting that's going to be, but for Will everything is worth it.

___

Without even meaning to, Mike woke up at exactly five in the morning. He looks at his clock like it personally offended him, groaning. After showering, he goes downstairs, only to see none other than Max, Lucas and Dustin, sitting in his kitchen like they own the place. His face scrunches.

"What the hell are guys doing here?" he grumbles while rummaging through the fridge.

"Will's leaving," Dustin says, a little too loud for Mike's sleepy brain.

"I know. That's not what I asked," Mike sits down at the table. Everyone is looking at him intently, almost analyzing him.

"We just want to say bye. Together," Max finally gives a proper answer.

"Yeah. We were waiting for you. Almost went up to wake you up, but you were already in the shower," Lucas adds. Mike hums in response.

"Lucky me," he says sarcastically.

"Well, you have about fifteen minutes max, then we have to go to Will's," Dustin says, checking his watch. Mike nods and speeds up his eating.

Mike gets ready even a little faster than that, and they all bike to Will's house. When they arrive, Jonathan is busy loading up the suitcases into his car. That tugs at Mike's heart a little. That realization that at some point this will be more permanent, not just for a week. But he swallows that sadness.

"Hey!" Jonathan asks in that soft and caring tone of his. He smiles at the Party bright and warm.

He takes his time to give everyone tight hugs, now being careful around Mike's back. When he pulls away from Mike, he lingers for a little longer, just looking at him. Before Mike can ask what that's about, he lets go.

Then Will steps out on the front porch, looking sleepy but also excited. He practically explodes in sunshine when he sees all his friends. He hops over to them, and they join each other in a group hug. It's full of giggles, praises and wishes for a good trip. Mike can't take his eyes off of Will.

"You didn't have to come," Will says softly into the hug.

"Yes, we did," Lucas protests, squeezing Will harder.

Jonathan watches them, nearly tearing up. Eventually they do separate, and spend the rest of the time scattered around the Byers front porch, talking. Mike doesn't say much, just stares at Will, his side profile, his hands, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. He's memorizing it all. He kind of wishes he had at least a fraction of Will's talent to be able to capture all these details on paper. Just to look back at it later.

While everyone is talking, Will sneakily shifts closer to Mike, until their elbows knock. Mike in response shifts closer, too, pressing their shoulders together. They both bite down their smiles and exchange a quick understanding glance.

From there Will keeps sneaking glances at Mike, like he's checking in quietly, privately. After about five of those, Mike leans closer to Will's ear.

"You keep looking at me," he whispers.

"I know," Will whispers back. Mike lets out a quiet chuckle.

"I'm okay. Just sleepy. I promise."

Mike sneakily reaches one of his arms behind Will, and gently rubs his lower back. Will subtly leans back into the touch, nodding.

"Okay, time to go!" Jonathan announces from his car, making everyone groan.

Every member gives Will separate, more personal hugs. Dustin, as usual, makes it as tight and suffocating as possible, like it's the last one he'll ever give. Max hugs him by his neck, so gentle and tender it kind of makes Mike a little uncomfortable. He didn't know she was capable of that with anyone that's not Lucas.

Lucas gives a warm, comfortable hug, surrounding Will completely. A very big brother hug. Will practically melts into it. Every one of them murmurs something into Will's ear, making him chuckle or even tear up.

Mike barely has time to react before Will wraps himself around him, tight like never before. Last time they hugged like this was when they were kids. When Will spent almost the entire day at Mike's house, and Joyce came to pick him up. Will was crying then, he didn't want to leave. He hugged Mike so tight, like they were never going to see each other again. Then they saw each other again at kindergarten the very next day.

Mike doesn't overthink, doesn't care that their friends are right here. He wraps his arms around Will's waist, pressing him closer. His face finds its place in the crook of Will's neck. He swallows hard, fighting back the tears. This is too familiar. Will rubs soothing lines into his back, and Mike wants to explode right here.

"You have fun there, okay?" Mike whispers, doing his best to keep his voice nice and steady.

"Okay," Will nods into Mike's hair. It seems his voice is also wobbling.

Mike pulls back just enough to look at Will's face, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Jane, in her pajamas, leaning against the front door. They lock eyes, and she smiles at him wider than she already was. Mike smiles back.

He feels Will's hands pat him on the back, slowly lowering. Then there's some quick movement in his back pocket, but it stops as soon as it starts. Will pulls away completely, keeping eye contact.

"Bye," he breathes out.

"Bye," Mike nods weakly, keeping up his best 'I'm totally not dying inside' face.

Will hugs Jane, then walks to the car, waving to everyone. It's very bittersweet, even if temporary. The car pulls out of the driveway onto the road, and they drive away. The Party stays there, listening to the fading sounds of the engine. Mike fights back another wave of tears. This is real. Will is gone for the next week, and at this point there is nothing Mike can do about it. Can't chase after the car, can't beg him to stay and never ever leave.

Luckily for him, he's not the only one. The others are clearly fighting back their own tears. Jane is the first one to speak up.

"Mom made pizza yesterday," all she has to say before the chaos erupts once again.

Lucas and Dustin groan like they haven't eaten anything in the last ten years. Mike is pretty sure they ate back at his house, but just ignores that. He's about to walk inside, but Max stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder. She waits until the front door closes, then starts talking.

"You okay?"

"Uh.. Yeah. I think?" Mike mumbles, weakly nodding. Max just looks at him for a few seconds, like she's looking for something in his expression.

"You coming in tomorrow?" she finally asks after the pause. She pulls her hand off Mike's shoulder and shifts into a more comfortable pose.

"Yeah, I am," Mike nods a little too fast.

"Good," Max says like she made a point, and, without waiting for Mike, walks into the house.

Mike stays there, then reaches into his back pocket. He feels a piece of paper that wasn't there before. He pulls it out, carefully unfolds it. Once he sees what's on the familiar yellowed page, a grin splits his face in half, and his cheeks flush. Will gave him that sketch he drew in Mike's room some time ago. Some of the lines have faded a bit or got smudged, but the messy hair is still there. At the bottom there is a little note.

'It's always been you. I love you.'

Mike could cry. Deep down he regrets telling Will to go. He wants to bring him back, lock the two of them in his basement and just stay there for eternity, together. But he can't, he shouldn't. This is just temporary, Will is going to be back before Mike even realizes. Probably.

Mike is really not looking forward to this week.

Chapter Text

The first morning waking up without calling Will felt strange. Out of habit Mike grabbed the walkie while still half asleep, until the reality hit him and he fell back onto his pillow with a pathetic sigh. This sucks, but he doesn't have time to mope right now. He showers, eats his breakfast, brushes his teeth and bikes to work.

Mike decided to spend this week picking up as many shifts as possible. Volunteering to come in, covering for anybody that asks, even staying a little longer than needed to wrap everything up. Anything to get a few extra bucks.

At first it was going relatively fine. Sure, he was exhausted by the end of the day, and he didn't have time nor energy to see his friends, but he kept pushing. Max was usually there with him, she's only had one day off so far. It was almost comforting, familiar. Mike doesn't really talk to his other coworkers, and it's nice to have someone he knows there.

He doesn't show it, though. Instead he groans about Max always being there, probably to torment him. Then, as if the universe itself was laughing at him, the workload got so much worse than he ever imagined. Every other customer behaved and talked to him like they were born no more than an hour ago. Asking stupid and obvious questions, being just plain rude, or complaining and then not listening to any solutions Mike tried to give.

There was always spilled popcorn in the deepest crevices of the seats, kids were puking multiple times a day. Mike wondered if there's a stomach bug going around or something like that. The popcorn machine just kept breaking on him. Their manager looked like he was about to murder someone every time it happened.

He would come home completely drained. The only thing keeping him going was talking to Will on the phone. He didn't get to do it on day one, Will was too tired and just fell asleep right after they arrived. The rest of the days, Mike would gladly let him talk his ear off. About his day, what new places he visited, what new foods he tried that he's never even heard of.

Mike would listen intently, with a dopey smile on his face, twisting the cord around his finger. It would go on until Will had to go to bed or have dinner. Mike groans about it every time, despite practically sleeping while standing up himself. Afterwards he would just go to bed to get as many hours of sleep as he can, before going back to work in the morning.

The days were blurring together, and Mike didn't notice how he's started regressing back into his numb state, moving on autopilot again. His room is a mess, with clothes piled up all over the floor, half empty coffee mugs crowding his desk. He's barely talking to anyone, he has huge eye bags, his hair is unruly.

He wakes up, showers, eats, goes to work, comes home, talks to Will, goes to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

He looks like a ghost at work. The rude customers don't affect him anymore, he's just mumbling or shooting insults back at them under his breath. His moves are sluggish and clumsy, which actually makes everything more difficult for Max. She's always rushing him, or taking over to get things done faster. Mike doesn't even realize it.

At one point, Max took over refilling the popcorn machine again. There was a rush, a full line of impatient customers, and Mike was moving like his arms were filled with cement. She curses him out under her breath, then screams out in pain. Mike's head shoots at her. He feels like someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on him.

"Shit," Max hisses, rubbing her leg. Her face is scrunched up from the pain.

"A- Are you okay?" Mike scrambles, but Max just puts her hand in front of his face, stopping him.

"Don't," she hisses again. Her eyes lift up at Mike, giving him a death stare. "Just- Just hurry the fuck up."

She walks into the staff room, hunched over and limping. Mike doesn't have time to question it. He feels like he got snapped out of a trance, like his head has been underwater and he finally got out. He quickly refills the machine and serves the customers with unmatched enthusiasm.

By the time the rush dies down, Max is still in the staff room. It's quiet. Too quiet for Mike's comfort. He carefully walks in, like he's entering a cage holding an angry tiger, ready to rip him to shreds. Max is sitting on a chair, hunched over, rhythmically massaging her leg and wincing from the pain.

"You okay?" Mike asks quietly.

"I just need a minute," Max says through her teeth, voice strained and rough. She leans back in the chair with a frustrated sigh.

"Is the pain not getting better?"

"It was, it's just-," Max makes a frustrated sound, looking for words. "I've been on my feet too much. I just need to sit down."

"No, you need to go home and rest," Mike sounds worried. His eyebrows are curved, and he starts pacing around the room.

After everything, Max has been dealing with pain in her limbs. Sometimes when the weather suddenly changes, she feels a dull and constant pull in her knees. Other times her arms feel overly weak all of a sudden, until they go back to normal on their own. There have been days where her whole body hurts for no specific reason, and she just stays in bed until she feels better.

Lucas researched massages that help ease the pain, and gladly does it for her. She has been managing with some painkillers and limited physical activities, especially skateboarding, but if she overdoes it, the pain comes back in sharp bursts. Mike feels awful for her.

"It's that fucking manager, whatever his fucking name is. He should be giving you more days off. Who does he think he is?" Mike rambles, still pacing around the room. His hands are flying around in angry gestures.

"Mike-"

"I mean, is that even legal? You have a right to rest, especially with your condition," Mike just keeps going, getting more and more angry with every word. "He can't keep treating you like that. Just using you because you actually know what you're doing-"

"Mike."

Max says it loud, deep and firm. It immediately shuts Mike up. He stops pacing, and just looks at Max with wide eyes. She sighs again, shaking her head.

"Just- Just shut up for a second. God," Max clutches her head. "I asked to be put on shift with you. Every shift."

"What?" Mike asks after a pause. He blinks a few times, earning another sigh from Max.

"To keep an eye on you."

She looks at him with a mix of worry and frustration, like she's annoyed he's making her say it out loud. Mike is taken aback. His eyebrows shoot up, and the gears in his brain finally start to turn. He's been groaning and complaining about Max always being here with him. She was doing the same back, for sure, but Mike didn't even consider that it could be because she asked. She specifically asked to be paired up with him.

Now Mike feels even more awful. Without realizing, he's been putting so much strain on her body. Now she's in pain, and he's just standing there like a useless idiot. His fingers twitch to do something, help somehow. For a second he considers giving her a massage, but he doesn't actually know how. He might do more harm than good.

"Do you- Do you need anything? Like, meds or.. something?" he stutters, eyes darting around the room looking for a solution.

"No, it's going away slowly. I just need to take it easy," Max says, voice still a little strained. She rubs a line into her thigh, pressing her fingers into the muscles in very specific spots. She winces when she gets to a sensitive area.

"Okay," Mike breathes out, hands hanging uselessly in the air. A pause stretches between them.

"Just go. I'll be right out," Max says eventually. Her voice is softer than it was a few seconds ago.

"Stay home tomorrow," Mike tries to sound assertive. Max only chuckles in response.

He opens the door and leaves the room, keeping his eyes on her.

___

He comes home a little earlier, but still completely drained. His shirt is sticking to his body, hair is going in every possible direction, limbs are heavy and weak. He feels like a used dish rag squeezed dry. While he's clumsily tugging his shoes off, Nancy is talking on the phone. When she locks eyes with Mike, she waves him down.

She takes a good look at him, and worry washes over her face. He looks rough, to say the least. He doesn't even have the energy to keep his eyes fully open. While still looking at him, Nancy keeps talking on the phone, nodding and repeating quiet 'okay's'.

"Hey, is Will there?" she asks, and Mike's ears perk up. Nancy pauses for a second, then passes the phone to Mike with a small smile.

"Hey," Mike takes the phone carefully, like it's made of precious gold, and presses it to his ear. His lips immediately stretch into a smile. He doesn't even care about how obvious he's being right now, with Nancy still standing close by.

"Hi, Mike," Will says on the other end. It washes over Mike, sending happy lightnings throughout his body. His knees buckle, and he leans on the wall to stand upright.

"How- How are you?" Mike feels like he's forgotten how to speak, stumbling over his words.

"I'm good, I'm good. I went to look at one of the art schools I applied for today," Will says, voice light and excited.

"How was it?" Mike does his best to sound just as excited.

"It's very big. Like, insanely big. I was shocked. But really beautiful."

"That's cool."

"Yeah," Will's voice falters, sounding a little sad.

"Hey, what is it?"

"Nothing. It's just.. They have so much art there, and it's all so.. So beautiful. I guess it just made me a little insecure," Will lets out a dry chuckle.

"Will, don't say that. You're great. You're better than all of them, okay?" Mike stands up straight, putting his full focus and love and determination into every word he says.

"You haven't seen any of the art there, though," Will says with a note of sarcasm. Mike scoffs. He's sure Will rolled his eyes as he said it.

"I don't need to! I've seen your art, and it's the greatest thing ever. I mean it."

"I know you do," Will says quietly, then a pause stretches between them.

Mike presses his forehead into the wall, nervously twisting the phone cord around his finger. He wants to see Will so bad. To hold him, kiss him, tell him how great he is, in person. He can't stand the distance. He thought he could. This is temporary, after all, and they're just a couple days away from meeting again. Still, Mike feels like he's being tortured.

He feels a painful lump coming up his throat. He squeezes the phone harder, until his knuckles go white from the pressure, and audibly swallows the sobs threatening to break out.

"Also," Will speaks up eventually. Mike snaps out of his thoughts. "There has been a little change of plans."

"Like what?" Mike's voice is a little rough.

"We're gonna have to stay here for a little longer. Right now it's two days, but Jonathan said things could change again, so.."

"Okay," Mike breathes out, his thoughts are somewhere else.

"Yeah," Will groans.

Mike doesn't say anything for a little while, lost in thought. On one hand, he hates that he won't be able to see Will for longer. The waiting was already torturous as it is. But on the other hand, he might be able to take some time off work. At least for one day.

With the extra time he might earn just enough money to buy those brushes before Will is back. Mike's eyes widen, already constructing a plan. He doesn't even notice that he's been quiet for about a minute now.

"Mike?" Will speaks up on the other end.

"Yeah?"

"I miss you."

Mike's breath hitches. It's the first time they've said it since Will left. Tried staying positive. Mike feels his eyes welling up with tears, and doesn't bother fighting them. He presses the phone closer, his voice goes shaky and breathy.

"I miss you, too."

"Talk tomorrow, yeah?" Will's voice is shaking, too.

"Of course," Mike nods rapidly.

"Okay. Bye, Mike."

"Bye, Will."

They linger for a second or two, then Will ends the call. Mike closes his eyes and sighs. Nancy is still close by, arms crossed on her chest. Her eyebrows are curved in worry and lips are pressed into a tight line. Mike tries to avoid her gaze, hide his wet eyes, but doesn't do a very good job. If he wasn't completely exhausted, he would've darted upstairs and locked himself in his room by now.

"Mike, can we talk?" Nancy says quietly, stepping closer.

"I- I'm kind of tired," Mike stutters, lazily pointing towards the stairs.

"Please?"

Mike bites the inside of his cheek. Nancy is pleading, looking at him with her big blue eyes full of worry and care. Despite being a full head taller than her now, Mike feels small. The tears welling up in his eyes spill over, running down his cheeks in hot tracks. He scrunches his face, physically holding back the sobs. Nancy reaches out and pulls him into a hug.

Mike wraps himself around her small frame, pressing close. Nancy puts her hand on the back of his head, comforting and grounding him. He buries his face into her shoulder, breath uneven and ragged. A few tears fall and soak into the fabric of her shirt.

"Do you wanna go down to the basement?" Nancy asks, quiet and soft. Mike slowly pulls away. His face is red and blotchy.

"Can I go change first?" Mike half jokes and lets out a wet chuckle. He pinches the fabric of his shirt, pulling it away from his body. It feels disgusting.

"Mike," Nancy breathes out.

"I'll come back down. I promise," Mike interrupts her, looking as sincere as he can manage.

Nancy looks at him, then nods. Mike nods back, and goes upstairs. Once he's in his room, alone, he lets out a long shaky breath. Like someone has been pressing down on his throat, and finally let go. The tears fall uncontrollably now. He slides down to the floor and curls in on himself, whole body seizing with sobs.

This is all too much. All the emotions he's been bottling up these past few days are spilling over, and he can't stop them. He thought he's gotten out of it, that he's not numb anymore. He's energetic, he sees his friends and participates in conversations, he doesn't feel weird looking at his own reflection. He feels alive.

He told himself he won't go back to that state, won't hurt himself or his loved ones like that again. But all it took is Will going away for a few days for him to regress back. What's going to happen when he moves away permanently? Mike didn't want to feel those emotions, he pushed them away, tried to distract himself with work, but it seems like it only made everything worse.

It takes Mike a few agonizing minutes to calm down. His head is throbbing, his eyelids are burning. He has been tugging on his hair so hard that his fingers ache. He clumsily gets back up on his feet and changes into more comfortable clothing. He's still gross and needs to shower, but he's just glad to finally take off that damn dress shirt and those jeans. He felt like they were suffocating him.

Nancy is waiting for him in the basement. She looks tense and one of her legs is nervously shaking. Mike comes down, and sits next to her on the couch, fidgeting with his hands. They don't say anything at first. It's obvious that Mike has been crying. He's sniffing every few seconds, and the red spots all over his face are unmistakeable. But Nancy doesn't comment on it.

"What's going on with you?" she starts. Her voice is quiet and careful. She's looking intently at her brother, but his eyes are fixed on the floor.

"Just.. tired from work," Mike shrugs.

"Mike. No secrets."

Mike pauses, desperately trying to collect his thoughts. Nancy stays quiet. She doesn't push him, doesn't rush him, doesn't try to guess or find the words for him. She just patiently waits. The lights are quietly buzzing above their heads.

"I don't know what to tell you. I'm working, and I'm tired because of that. That's it," Mike says eventually, getting frustrated. At himself or Nancy, he isn't sure.

"You've been working non stop ever since Will left. You're overdoing it, Mike. You need a break," Nancy says, firm but still caring.

"I'm fine, Nance-"

"No, you're not," she interrupts him, louder and firmer. "You just wake up, quietly eat your breakfast, disappear at work, come home and go to sleep. We haven't had a proper conversation in almost a week. Mike, you're exhausting yourself. You look half dead."

"I just.. I need money, okay?" Mike mumbles. He shuts his eyes to avoid any possible eye contact, otherwise he would probably start crying again.

"For what?" Nancy's voice goes soft again, more air than actual words.

"I.. Fuck," Mike throws his head back and groans. He presses his palms into his eyes so hard he sees shapes. "I wanna buy a gift.. for Will. It's expensive, so I wanted to focus on work while he's gone, and get the gift by the time he's back. There."

A pause stretches between them. Mike doesn't look at Nancy, doesn't even move his palms from his face. He focuses on the hum of the lamps, the creak of the house. Anything to distract himself from freaking out.

"What's the gift?" Nancy breaks the silence.

"A brush set. He's working on a painting, and he's definitely gonna need them for art school. All his brushes are old, he hasn't changed them since middle school. He deserves nice brushes," Mike's voice goes quiet. He can't stop the next words from escaping his lips. "He deserves everything."

He hears it as he says it, but at that point it's too late to take it back. His heart skips a beat, and he stops breathing. Mike braces for a reaction, but it doesn't come. Nancy is quiet for a long moment. Mike slowly peels his hands away from his face and looks at her. She was already looking back, with a bright smile on her face.

"He does," she whispers and nods.

Another pause. Mike feels the blush creeping up his neck. The silence gets awkward, so he clears his throat roughly and sits up.

"And how- How are you Jonathan doing?" he tries to change the topic.

"We're.. okay?" Nancy furrows her eyebrows and tilts her head, genuinely confused.

"I just- Um. You know, the coupon you gave me?"

"Right."

"Jonathan gave Will one, too."

"Okay."

"And we.. figured that.. maybe you and Jonathan were gonna go on a milkshake and burger date, then something happened, so you gave us the coupons. Um.. Yeah. Just- Just checking in, I guess," Mike rambles, waving his hands around. He quiets down by the end, cringing at himself.

"Mike," Nancy scoffs and holds back a laugh. She looks to the side, shaking her head in disbelief, then turns back to Mike, eyes wide. "Okay, we lied to you about the coupons, but we got them specifically for you two. We wanted you to have a nice day together."

"Huh?" Mike's face scrunches. He blinks hard a few times, trying to put the pieces together in his tired head. "You.. and Jonathan.. wanted Will and I to have a.. nice date?"

"Oh, I didn't say 'date'."

"Huh?" Mike's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

"Day. Together," Nancy says slowly, stretching every syllable.

"That's what I said."

"No, you didn't-"

"You interrupted me!"

"Definitely didn't."

Mike shuts his mouth. Yeah, he fucked up. The blush has crept up to his cheeks. He turns away and clears his throat. He did it to ease the awkwardness, but that just made it worse.

"You know, there's nothing wrong with it being a date," Nancy says gently, quietly. It's barely above a whisper. Mike could pretend he didn't hear it, play dumb.

"I know," he blurts out and immediately regrets it, shutting his eyes tight.

"Was it fun, at least?" Nancy carefully asks after a pause.

"Yeah. Th- Thanks," Mike whispers, nodding.

They don't say anything for a while. Mike refuses to open his mouth, before he blurts out even more things he wasn't planning on talking about tonight. Instead he stays quiet, praying that Nancy gets the hint and ends the conversation there. She doesn't, though. She just waits. Waits for Mike to make the first move, say something else.

Mike's eyes shift around the basement, like he's seeing it for the first time. It's still a bit messy from their last group hangout. Mike hasn't found the time to fully clean. The walls are covered in posters and Will's drawings, of different skill level. Some are recent, a lot of them have been here since Mike was in first grade. He's kept every single drawing Will has ever given him, no matter how big or small. He's even taken a few sketches that Will did not care about and was going to throw away. Mike offered to do it, instead keeping them.

Once he ran out of wall space, he started putting them in a binder. It's resting in a box at the bottom of his closet, along with his other childhood memories, most including Will. Mike blushes more, and looks over to the wardrobe, but Will left his mark there, too. There is a whole shelf with all of Will's clothes he's left here over the years.

Hell, Mike is pretty sure the shirt he's wearing right now belonged to Will at some point. Hard to tell. In the last few years their lives have been so intertwined, including their clothes. God, he is so obvious.

Eventually, Nancy gives in and puts her palm on Mike's shoulder. He doesn't turn to face her.

"You're staying home tomorrow," she says like it's a fact. She gets up and starts walking up the stairs.

"Fine, but I need to call-"

"I'll call them and tell them you're sick, or something. They can do whatever the hell they want with that," Nancy says, frustrated. Then her voices softens again. "You're taking a break. Goodnight."

She doesn't wait for Mike to respond, just leaves. Mike throws himself back on the couch, groaning. He said way too much.

___

The next day Mike woke up to noises coming from downstairs. It's ten in the morning, the sun is shining bright through his window, and he feels like he just woke up from a coma. His bones feel like they're made of cement, refusing to move. His hair is sticking out, taking the shape of the pillow he was just laying on. His eyes are so swollen he can barely open them.

He slept for about eleven hours, catching up on all the sleep he lost throughout the week. The mess around him suddenly bothers him to his core, even though he's been ignoring it until now. He makes a mental note to clean up later.

Eventually Mike manages to crawl out of bed, shuffle in the shower and back to his room. He feels a little more refreshed and energized. Just a little. Not enough to start cleaning quite yet, though, so he goes downstairs. The noises get louder with every step he takes. He already sighs before even seeing the source.

At the kitchen table there were Lucas, Max, Dustin and Jane, talking loudly. Karen is at the stove, frying up eggs in a rush. She sighs in relief when she notices Mike in the doorway.

"Mike! Thank God," she abandons the stove and runs over to Mike. "Can you take over? I have to go."

She kisses him on the cheek and vanishes. Mike doesn't have time to process or respond. He blinks a few times, then the words connect in his brain and he rushes to the stove before a fire can start.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Dustin stretches, teasing.

"Shut up," Mike groans, clumsily flipping the eggs. It takes him four tries.

"We almost thought you died," Lucas jokes, drumming on the table with his fingers.

"Why are you guys even here?" Mike turns to face them, abandoning the pan for a moment.

"Oh. There's a little," Max doesn't finish that sentence. She points to the pan that's starting to smoke. Mike smells it and rushes to save the eggs. "Yeah. I'm not eating those."

Eventually Jane took over cooking the eggs. Mike kept burning them, and everyone was starving. Jane made the most perfect, fluffiest scrambled eggs, while Mike was pushing the burnt ones around his plate. The whole time conversations were flowing around him, in a beautiful chaotic symphony.

There were at least four conversations happening at once, intertwining but also completely separate and different. The plates were already empty, but the talking didn't stop.

"You look like shit," Lucas says to Mike at some point.

"Work, you know?" Mike mumbles and shrugs.

"You have a job?" Jane asks, and Mike freezes in his seat.

"Yeah, he does! Did I not mention that?" Dustin answers for him.

"I don't think so," Jane shakes her head slowly, then turns back to Mike. "What's the job?"

"The, uh.. The movie theater," Mike says, stretching every word. He sneaks a quick glance at Max, who was already giving him a death stare across the table. Shit.

"Oh," Jane also looks over at Max. The two of them exchange an understanding glance, stark contrast to Mike. Jane doesn't push further.

"Do you guys get free movie tickets? Can you get us some?" Dustin lights up. There's a mischievous glint behind his eyes.

"I haven't gotten any yet, actually" Mike furrows his brows, suddenly offended. He completely forgot about this option. He's been breaking his back working, and hasn't even gotten to watch a free movie, at the very least.

"Nah, I have a better idea," Lucas waves his hand dismissively, then leans over the table, like he's constructed a battle plan. "I'm picking up my license tomorrow, right?"

Dustin applauds loudly, startling everyone. Max curses him out under her breath. Mike claps weakly, giving Lucas an impressed face with a nod. Jane gives a quiet 'woo' with a warm smile. Lucas soaks in the praise.

"Thank you. Thank you," he bows playfully, then gets serious again. "So, I was thinking.. What if, when Will is back, we all go on a road trip? My dad said I could borrow his car."

Everyone's faces light up.

"On a road trip where?" Mike says before it gets chaotic.

"Uh.. I don't know. To a lake maybe? A little camping trip?" Lucas shrugs.

"We have a lake here in Hawkins," Mike says flatly.

"So? That's gonna be a different lake," Dustin protests. He sounds personally offended.

"Exactly!" Lucas points to Dustin. His eyes are wide and excited. "The point is to see new places."

"It has to be a nice lake, then," Max speaks up, face propped up on her hand.

"Yeah, with a nice big beach," Jane adds, all dreamy. She closes her eyes, already imagining the potential view.

"We can look into that. Right?" Dustin turns to Lucas, already motivated.

"Yeah. Totally," Lucas nods enthusiastically.

"We should wait 'til Will comes back, see what he thinks," Mike speaks up, sounding a little more frustrated than he meant to.

"No, yeah. Obviously," Dustin nods. He and Lucas exchange a glance.

"How is he, by the way?" Max asks Jane.

"I haven't talked to him in a few days, but Jonathan said they're okay," Jane shrugs.

"They'll be back in two days, right?" Lucas asks.

"Actually," Mike speaks up before he even realizes. Everyone's heads snap at him. He leans back into his chair, feeling awkward. "He, uh.. He said they have to stay a little longer than that. At least two more days, maybe even more. Yeah.."

Everyone pauses and looks at him. He looks back at them just as confused.

"What?" he asks when the silence gets too awkward.

"When did he tell you that?" Max leans back in her chair. She sounds almost suspicious.

"Yesterday?" Mike raises an eyebrow. "Did he.. Have you guys talked to him?"

"He called me three days ago. Said he can't do it much 'cause he doesn't wanna run up Jonathan's phone bill," Dustin recalls, pointer finger in the air.

"Same," Lucas adds. Max nods along.

"How about you, Mike?" Jane asks.

Mike freezes up again. A stubborn blush climbs up his neck. He clears his throat a little too rough and looks up at the ceiling, like he'll find a good answer there.

"We.. We talk, like, every evening? Kinda," Mike stutters, stumbling over his words and cringing at himself the more he talks.

Everyone lets out a collective 'oh'. Mike refuses to look at them.

"It's- It's because Jonathan calls Nancy, and Will is already there, so might as well let him talk for a few minutes, you know?" Mike scrambles for an excuse, even though no one was questioning him in the first place.

"Well, yeah. No one said anything otherwise," Lucas answers, confused. He furrows his brows and looks at the others for support.

"How is he?" Dustin asks and looks at Mike, expecting.

"Good. Really good," Mike nods rapidly. His voice is much higher than usual. "He, uh.. He walks around the city, visits new places. He visited an art school yesterday. Said it was really beautiful. Um.. Yeah. He said New York is loud, but he likes it."

"Wow. What an amazing storyteller you are," Max grumbles, earning chuckles from everyone else.

"Fuck you," Mike shoots back.

"It's good that he likes it, though," Dustin says, nodding to himself.

"Yeah. And when he moves there, he'll already know good spots. Lucky," Lucas agrees.

The conversation goes on, but Mike's mood shifted. He's not saying anything anymore, just staring at his empty plate with a blank expression. He feels a painful pit in his stomach. That stupid feeling again.

'When he moves there.'

Mike tries really hard not to think about it. About Will moving away. About Will leaving him here and moving on with his life. He needs a distraction. He abruptly gets up from his seat, the chair roughly scraping against the floorboards. It was so loud that everyone stopped talking. In the dead quiet, Mike walks to the sink, puts his plate there, then shuffles out of the kitchen. Every sound feels at least ten times louder.

"I need to clean my room," he mumbles, words slurring together. He doesn't wait for a response, just leaves.

___

He's not sure how long he's been rummaging through the mess. Maybe ten minutes, maybe thirty. He sorts out his clothes, most ending up in the laundry pile. He cracks the window open, letting in some fresh warm air. His desk is probably in the worst condition out of everything. Somehow it ended up getting cluttered again.

As he's about to start cleaning it, he hears a gentle knock on his door. He freezes, waits.

"Can I come in?" Jane's voice.

"Uh.. Y- Yeah. Come in," Mike mumbles.

Jane walks in slowly, looks around, taking in every detail of the room. She hasn't been in here in a while. Mike is suddenly very embarrassed. He covers the pile of mugs on the desk with his body, trying to casually lean back against it. Jane's eyes glide from his closet to the window, the bed, the floor, the walls, then, finally, to Mike. She looks a little worried.

"Can I help?" she says softly.

Mike thinks it over for a second, then nods weakly. Jane doesn't waste any time and reaches for the empty food wrappers that Mike couldn't cover up. On top of them there was a sheet of yellowed paper. Mike immediately snatches it out of Jane's hands before she can crumple it up.

"Sorry," she says quietly, looking at Mike with wide eyes. She slowly crumples up the wrappers and throws them in Mike's trashcan.

"No, uh.. I'm sorry," Mike holds the paper like it's made of gold, gentle and careful. He looks at it and furrows his brows, frustrated at himself. "Will gave it to me. I should've put it away."

He walks over to his closet, crouches down, and from beneath his extra sets of bedsheets pulls out a box. It's clearly old, barely holding together with some tape, but Mike refuses to get a new one. Jane kneels down next to him, curiously looking into the box. Mike doesn't really mind.

Inside it are all of Will's gifts Mike's gotten over the years, the binder with Will's art, as well as some loose drawings that couldn't fit in it anymore. Mike looks at it, holding back the sobs bubbling up in his throat. He folds up the sketch in his hands, and puts it away with the rest.

At the corner of the box there is a familiar brown rolled up sheet of paper. Mike can't resist the urge to pull it out and open it. He does it, with all the tenderness he has. Jane intently watches his every move. Mike traces the edges of the paper with his fingers, holds it like it's something precious. It is to him.

It's Will's painting, the one he gave Mike in that cramped van, the one Mike was eating himself alive over for months, if not years. He couldn't bring himself to hang it up, where others could see it, where Will could see it, so instead he put it in the safety of his closet.

He looks at all the details Will put in it, every stroke filled with love and adoration that Mike was too blind and scared to see. He put so much thought into all of it, clearly spent a lot of time on it as well. Then Mike visited and just ruined it all. This painting makes him feel so many different emotions at once. From paralyzing guilt to pure love.

"Have you talked to him about it?" Jane quietly asks, eyebrows curved in worry.

"Yeah," Mike says, barely above a whisper. He swallows audibly, fighting back the tears. "I have. It went.. good. Really good."

Jane doesn't say anything. She just looks back at Mike, eyes full of understanding, and nods. She gets up, leaves him alone with his thoughts. Mike is grateful for Jane's ability to know when to leave the conversation. His friends could really use that skill.

"I didn't know you worked with Max," Jane says, looking at the old coffee mugs with disgust.

Nevermind.

"It just never came up, I guess," Mike scrambles for an excuse.

"Does Will know?"

Mike shuts his eyes tight. Shit.

"Okay, this is gonna sound bad," he gets up, knees cracking. He walks up to Jane. His hands are uselessly hanging in the air. "Please don't tell Will. At least until he's back."

"You want me to.. to lie to him?" Jane furrows her brows and tilts her head.

"No! Just.. Just don't mention it to him, okay? Please?"

"Why?"

Mike groans. He clutches his face, rubs it roughly, hoping it could set his brain back in place and get his thoughts in order.

"I'm working on a surprise for him. I need money for that surprise. And I didn't tell him that I got a job," Mike says slowly, waving his hands around like that will make his point better.

"Because it's a surprise," Jane finishes for him, slowly nodding.

"Exactly! You get it."

They pause. Jane is thinking hard, it all clearly showing up on her face. Every movement of her eyes, every twitch of her eyebrows shows each piece falling into place in her head. Mike waits. His hands are on his hips and his breath is uneven.

"I can't lie to Will. And you shouldn't, either," she concludes. Mike rolls his eyes for a second, then calms down. Resists the urge to get defensive.

"I'll tell him when he's back. I swear," he looks at Jane with pleading eyes.

"If he asks me, I'll tell him the truth," she says plainly.

"Works for me. Thanks," Mike sighs, defeated.

They spend the next few minutes cleaning in silence. Mike is changing his bedsheets, Jane is getting rid of the trash. She saved Mike from humiliation and brought all his nasty mugs downstairs herself. She refused to wash them, though. Mike doesn't blame her.

He can hear faint voices of their friends coming from downstairs, along with the sounds of the TV. At least they found something to do. The silence is getting boring, though, so Mike runs through conversation starters in his head.

"So, uh," the best he managed. Jane turned to him, holding a half full trash bag in her hands. "You and Dustin, huh?"

"Oh, God," Jane scoffs and looks down, flustered. Her cheeks light up immediately.

"Are you guys.. like, together?"

"Not yet," Jane says, no hesitation. "He's.."

"Working on it," Mike finishes for her, slightly imitating Dustin's usual cadence.

"Yeah," Jane giggles.

"That's nice," Mike spreads the blanket on the bed. It folds over in the corner, but he doesn't bother fixing that. He just sits on the edge of the bed instead. He sighs loudly. "How did that happen?"

"Are you surprised I could like someone that's not you?"

"What?! No! That's not what I-"

"I'm teasing," Jane laughs. She abandons the trash bag and sits next to Mike, the mattress creaking under their shared weight. Her laughter fades. "We just got really close, after everything. I told him about Kali, he told me about Eddie. He was.. always there. On the good days, on the bad nights."

A mix of sorrow and happiness washes over her face. She's fidgeting with her hands, shifting her feet around. Her bottom lip quivers, but she keeps talking. Mike listens intently, fighting back his own tears.

"He helped me make a grave for her, you know?" Jane continues. "He taught me about the stages of grief, made sure I didn't drown like he did. Showed me the positives. And then, the feelings just.. happened. Slowly."

"Slowly," Mike repeats, nodding.

"I'm pretty sure he has something planned, for when he asks me to be his girlfriend," a giddy grin spreads on Jane's face. Her eyes are still glistening, but it seems to be happy tears now.

"He always does," Mike chuckles, shaking his head.

"And how did it happen for you and Will?"

"Oh, God," Mike scoffs, hiding his face in his hands.

"Did Will initiate?"

"No, no. God, no," Mike lifts his face back up, voice serious and stern.

"Good," Jane nods in approval. "So, you asked?"

"Yeah," Mike sounds embarrassed again.

"How did it go?" Jane's eyes sparkle with curiousity. How can Mike resist satisfying that.

"Well," his head is hanging low. He refuses to look Jane in the eyes. The tips of his ears are crimson red. "I.. kinda.. cried in his arms while drunk? Then almost puked my guts out from the nerves?"

"Aw. That's not very romantic," Jane frowns. Mike can only nod. Can't argue with that.

"Will doesn't seem to mind," he half jokes. It sounds lame, but Jane still giggles.

They pause for a while, both fighting back tears and laughs while staring into space. Eventually, Jane sniffs loudly, wiping her face, and stands up.

"Let's finish this," she gestures around the room. They were supposed to be cleaning.

Mike nods and they get back to it. He takes over picking up the trash, while Jane goes to get a broom. She sweeps the floors, quietly humming to herself. While Mike is busy sorting his comics, she reaches under his bed, trying to clean there as well. Joyce always taught her to be thorough.

When Mike notices that, he lunges in her direction, panicked. He yelps, gets in between Jane and his bed, limbs spreading all over the floor. Jane flinches backwards like she just got burned and looks at him with wide eyes. Mike is panting. His mouth is open, but no words are coming out.

"Uh- I- You should.. You should go. I'll finish this up. Th- Thanks for the help," he rambles, stuttering and stumbling over his words. His face is glowing red.

"Okay," Jane says slowly, eyebrows furrowed. Despite her confusion, she doesn't push. She slowly gets back up on her feet, leaves the room and disappears downstairs. All while glancing back at Mike.

Mike breathes out in relief and just lays flat on the floor. He turns his head to peek under the bed. There's lots of stuff there, but the box he was most worried about is hidden well enough. Jane probably didn't see it anyway, and he really overreacted, but it's too late to think about that now. He decides to leave it alone and poke at that secret some other time.

___

The day flew by quickly, bright blue skies now dark, almost black. The Party ended up spread all around Mike's basement, as they often are. While Mike was cleaning, they ordered some pizza, then Lucas ran out and bought soda.

Jane is looking through Mike's old toys and miniatures, always fascinated as if she's seeing them for the first time. Lucas and Max took the couch. Max has her legs resting on Lucas's lap. He's absentmindedly massaging her, still slightly sore, leg while arguing about something with Dustin.

Mike is laying flat on the floor, staring into space. He definitely feels better, but without Will here it just feels wrong. Incomplete. It brings up unpleasant memories. He kind of wishes he was at work right now, so the only thing he had to think about is not breaking the popcorn machine again.

Then the phone rings, making everyone jump. Mike lets it ring for a few seconds, usually Nancy picks it up first to talk to Jonathan, then eventually gives it over to Mike. Only Nancy isn't home right now. Mike gets back up to his feet and rushes to the phone.

"Hello?" he says, voice cracking a little.

"Hey, Mike," Jonathan says. He sounds a little startled. "Where's- Where's Nancy?"

"Oh, she's out right now. I could tell her to call you back?"

"Is it Will?" Dustin whispers, but Mike swats him away.

"No, it's okay," Jonathan continues. "How have you been? Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Mike says, voice tight. The gentle tone on the other end makes him crumble a little bit. He tries to keep his voice casual. "Can't wait to see you guys."

"Us, too," Jonathan laughs. "You should tag along sometime. You'd love it here."

"Yeah?" Mike's voice is a bit distant, thoughts shifting somewhere else again.

"Yeah. Will thinks so, too."

Mike can feel his knees buckle.

"Is- Is he there.. right now?" Mike mumbles. He forgot that all of his friends are still here, listening and watching everything he's doing.

"He's out with a few people from art school. Should be back in a bit."

"Oh. I see," Mike's voice falters.

He wants to question further. Who are these people? Are they safe? Is Will safe? Can he trust them? Where are they 'out'? When exactly is he going to be back?

He wants to push, but if Jonathan is okay with it, then it must be okay.

"Well, I gotta go. Um.. Nice talking to you," Mike stumbles over his words, feeling very awkward.

"You too, Mike. Say hi to everyone from me, okay?" Jonathan says, voice light.

"Yeah, of course. Bye."

"Bye."

Mike ends the call. He knows that everyone is looking at him, expecting. He's already frustrated. He slowly turns around, and sees everyone's eyes on him.

"Jonathan says hi," Mike says plainly, not having any energy to keep up the casual tone anymore.

"Are they okay? How's Will?" Lucas asks, suspicious at Mike's straight face.

"They're fine. Good. They're good," Mike nods, then shakes his head, then nods again.

"Then why do you look like someone just died?" Max questions, furrowing her eyebrows.

He kind of feels like it. Only he's the one that died.

"Look, I'm just tired, okay?" Mike rubs his face, getting more frustrated by the second. "It's getting late. You guys should probably go home."

He doesn't wait for a response. Instead, he walks upstairs into his room, locks himself inside and gets into bed. Downstairs there are voices, shuffling, then eventually the front door opens and closes. Mike feels awful, but he can't bring himself to deal with that right now.

___

Mike is at work once again, convinced that one day off was enough of a break after working non stop for almost a week. He hoped that he could sleep off whatever happened yesterday evening, the awful pit in his stomach, but it seems to have the opposite effect. It only grew bigger.

He's not even sure what he's so upset about. About Will still being in New York? He's kind of gotten used to that fact by now, plus Will is coming back in a few days anyway. About his friends crashing his day off and being annoying? That's not new. He was kind of relieved to see them, actually. Maybe he's pissed he has to work again? Well, no. He came in today because he wanted to, despite Nancy's pleading. So, what is it?

Then it clicks. Will's new art school friends. That's when Mike felt his insides twist into a painful knot, when his heart pounded hard against his ribs. He felt.. jealous? Will hasn't even started art school yet, and already found new friends. It's not surprising, though. Who wouldn't want to be friends with Will Byers, only the most charming and kind and beautiful person in the entire universe, according to Mike.

Mike knows he's pathetic for feeling like that, for feeling jealous about this. He doesn't think that Will would leave him for one of these friends. Will isn't that kind of person. However, Mike can't help but feel insecure. He imagines those new friends are so much cooler than him. They can talk to Will about color theory, or whatever. Mike never understood a thing about art. He just knew that Will is the most talented person he knows.

He's always loved listening to Will talk about art, despite not really retaining any of the information. He just loved to see Will's face light up when he's passionate about something.

Max comes in around noon. She seems cautious around Mike. She's not teasing, not berating, not even casually talking to him, for that matter. They exchanged a handful of words, and that's about it. They're just going through the motions, though today Mike makes a conscious effort to move faster and help out Max when he can.

After he's done cleaning the seats again, he walks back to the register, and sees a few familiar short silhouettes. Holly, Derek and their other little friends that Mike could never quite remember the names of. Holly lights up when she sees him.

"Hey!" she waves with a bright smile.

"Hey, Holly," Mike says flatly, though he can't help but smile back at his little sister when she's excited like this. He leans over the counter to get more on her eye level.

"They want free tickets," Max says before Holly can open her mouth. She looks at Mike with tired eyes. Clearly, this negotiation has been going on for some time.

"We can't do that, Holly. We'll get fired," Mike says quietly, peeking over at their manager, about to go on his fifth smoke break.

"Worth a shot," Holly scoffs. Behind her Derek looks like he's about to dramatically drop to his knees and scream in agony. Max goes ahead to book their seats.

"Want any popcorn?" Mike says, voice not completely flat for the first time today.

He takes everyone's orders, every flavor and amount. While Max isn't looking, he gives everyone a little extra. Not enough to be too obvious. Max does the same with their sodas while Mike isn't looking. Her and Holly share a glance, keeping that secret. The kids run to watch the movie, nearly stumbling over each other.

The next few hours fly by relatively smoothly. Mike even had time to quickly eat the sandwich Nancy shoved into his hands as he was leaving. He's still in a shitty mood, though. He's sitting on his stool, one leg shaking. Max is bored, just reading the movie announcements for the fifty fifth time, drumming on the counter with her fingers.

"How's your leg?" Mike asks quietly. Max flinches a little.

"It's fine," she says after a brief pause and turns away.

Mike bites the inside of his cheek. He hates when Max is like this. Clearly irritated by something, and he feels like no matter what he says it will set her off. At the same time, the silence is killing him.

"You didn't have to come in today," he settles for that. His leg is shaking faster.

"Neither did you," Max replies without skipping a beat. She's still not looking at Mike.

"I don't need a babysitter, Max. I'm a grown adult," Mike grows frustrated.

"Who said I came in for you? You're not the only one who needs money," Max barks back. She pauses, bouncing slightly, then finally turns back to Mike. "Did you fight with Will?"

"What? What are you talking about?" Mike responds, face scrunched and voice a few octaves higher.

"Whatever.. this is that's going on with you," she vaguely gestures at Mike. "It clearly has something to do with Will."

"No, it doesn't! And there's nothing going on with me!" Mike screams, earning a loud hush from the manager. He quiets down. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"Because we have eyes," Max hisses, trying to whisper but it's definitely way too loud to be considered one. She tightly crosses her arms on her chest, glaring at Mike.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Max scrunches her face in genuine disbelief. She gestures around Mike, pointing out every thing she mentions. "Your hair is in that stupid side part again. You look like a corpse that someone dug out, like, an hour ago. Usually you can't keep your mouth shut for more than two minutes, but for the past week you've been moping and barely talking. This is the first proper conversation we've had today. And you're asking me what I'm talking about?"

Mike just stares at her, jaw hanging open. His eyebrows furrow more with every sentence. He wants to say something, to fire back, but his brain can barely keep up with Max's words, and she just keeps going. Somehow quiet enough that the manager doesn't shush her.

"You've been like this for months. At some point you need to man up, and at least say what the actual hell is going on with you. We want to help you. But we can't do that, if you just run away all the time, Mike. Whatever is going on with you and Will-"

"Why don't you mind your business," Mike interrupts, feeling fed up. He gets up from his stool and walks closer to Max, trying to keep his voice quiet.

"Whatever this is, we want to help. All of us," Max's voice softens, but it's still stern. She doesn't budge.

"Jesus Christ, I don't need help. Keep your nose out of my business. I don't butt in on your and Lucas's arguments."

Something in Max's face shifts. The anger and smugness is gone, replaced by something Mike can't decode. His heart drops at the realization. He compared himself and Will to Max and Lucas. Shit. Why couldn't he say Jane, or Dustin, or Will himself? Literally anyone else, but Lucas.

His jaw is hanging open uselessly, but no words come out. His eyes dart around, refusing to look at Max. He feels his cheeks getting red, and his thoughts are scattered all over the place.

"That's- It's not- I- I didn't mean it like that, okay? And we didn't argue. We- We're fine. Will and I are fine. Great," he's a stuttering mess. His hands are flying around in nervous gestures. He's sure his face is about the same shade of red as their vests.

"Mike, it's-"

"No," he interrupts, turning away. "Stop talking. I'm not talking to you anymore."

He starts walking away. His legs feel like jello. Behind him he hears a loud scoff, Max's anger back in full swing.

"Sorry I don't want you to turn into your fucking dad," Max hisses, then immediately regrets it.

Mike stops in his tracks and slowly turns back to look at her. He can see it in her face. She didn't mean it, but it still stings. He takes a deep, shaky breath. His bottom lip quivers, but he tries to fight it.

"Fuck you," he spits out.

That's when the movie comes to an end, and a crowd of people spills out. They don't have time to be angry right now. Mike sighs and reaches for the broom, about to go clean up, but Max snatches it away first. She stomps away, leaving Mike alone at the register. A man comes up, clearly angry. Mike is not looking forward to this.

"Yes, sir?" he says, voice flat.

"I want a refund. This movie fucking sucked," the man grumbles, tapping his foot impatiently. Mike can only sigh.

"I can't do that, sir-"

"Why the fuck not?!" the man screams out, spit flying around.

"I can't give you the refund after you finished the movie, sir," Mike does his best to keep his voice steady. His jaw tightens outside of his control.

"Just give me the fucking refund, kid. I don't have time for this," the man drums his finger on the counter, looking at Mike like he's some kind of dog.

"As I already said," Mike fights the urge to roll his eyes. He shuts them tight instead and shifts on his feet. "I'm afraid I can't give you the refund after you watched the movie. Policy."

Mike points behind him with a blank face. There is a sign that clearly explains what he just said, in big bold letters. The man looks, narrows his eyes to see better, then waves his hand dismissively.

"I don't give a shit, kid. That movie was a piece of dog shit. It's not worth a single penny, you hear me?" the man leans in closer, pointing his finger at Mike. Mike looks at the finger, then back at the man, face blank and way too tired to deal with this. "The plot was shit, the effects were absolutely awful."

"I didn't make the movie, sir. I don't care," Mike blurts out, then regrets it a little bit. He's not lying, though.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" the man narrows his eyes at Mike, full of fury and looking like he's about to leap over the counter. "Just give me my fucking money back. I don't give a shit about your goddamn policy."

"Sir, I just work here-"

Mike gets splashed. He's pretty sure it's Coke. It's in his hair, his eyes, all over his face and shirt. Everyone gasps, and it's dead quiet. When Mike slowly opens his eyes, unable to breathe, he sees the man holding an empty cup in his hand, squeezing it so hard it's all crumpled up. He's shaking with anger. Then Max shows up, cursing the man out and practically kicking him out herself before security can catch up.

Mike doesn't get to see it, though. He stands there for a few long seconds, stunned and unsure what to do, then darts into the staff room. It feels stuffy, too small and cramped. Mike rips the vest off like it personally offended him, and throws it to the floor. It lands with a loud wet sound.

He doesn't remember leaving the building, going to the parking lot and sitting on the curb. His legs just took him there on their own accord. His lungs finally open up enough to take a shaky breath, and it's like the floodgates shoot open.

He curls in on himself, shaking and convulsing from loud sobs. This is all too much. Tears are running down his face, burning the skin underneath. He's dirty and sticky from the Coke splashed in his face. His heartbeat is so fast and rough it might just break his ribcage and jump out on the old pavement. The cold evening air only makes him feel shittier.

Mike feels pathetic, probably looks like it, too. He's rocking back and forth, tangling his fingers in his damp hair, desperately trying to ground himself. His throat is closed shut, and he's breathing in sharp gasps. He wants to just fall through the ground and die.

He doesn't notice approaching careful footsteps. They stop, and someone sits down next to him on the curb, keeping some distance. Eventually Mike calms down, his breathing evening out to a more acceptable pace. He slowly lifts his head, and locks eyes with Max. She looks like she's about to cry, too. Mike looks down at his sneakers, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. For what I said," Max starts, voice strained. Mike can't talk, so he quickly nods. "I didn't mean it."

Mike nods again. He feels more tears welling up, but he fights them. They just pool in his eyes, blurring his vision completely. He doesn't blink. Max scoots a little closer to him, looking somewhere ahead.

"I didn't- I shouldn't have pushed. You clearly don't wanna talk about it," she's fidgeting with her hands, picking at the skin around her nails. Her voice is wobbly. "But.. we really are all worried about you. After.. It's like you're.. I don't know. It's like you're here, but you're also not. You're checked out."

Another wave of sobs threatens to escape Mike's throat. He bites down on his lip, hard. He's pretty sure it's bleeding.

"But you got better. After the party, we thought you were back. Then Will left, and you're.. disappearing again," Max continues, lowering her voice to a whisper. She pauses, then looks over at Mike. "Does it.. Does it have anything to do with Will? Anything?"

Mike thinks it over for a second, then hesitantly nods. He holds his knees up to his chest, guarding himself. His eyes are burning and he has to blink. One tear runs down his cheek, and he quickly wipes it away with the back of his hand, before returning it to his knee.

"It's- Um," Mike speaks up, throat contracting around the words. He roughly clears his throat, feeling annoyed at how pathetic he sounds. He makes a frustrated sound, then lays down on his back. The cold pavement actually feels kind of nice. He covers his face with his arm. "It has everything to do with Will."

"Okay," Max breathes out, slowly nodding to herself. She leans back, propping herself up on her hands. Not laying down all the way, but just enough to see Mike out of the corner of her eye.

"I can't stand him being away. I fucking can't," Mike says. One sob escapes him. His whole body shakes from it. He feels like he's being choked. "I miss him so much."

"We miss him, too. And he'll he back soon," Max tries to reassure. Mike lets out a wet chuckle.

"Max," he whispers.

"What?" Max whispers back, confused.

Mike holds his breath. His mind is racing at the speed of light, his whole body is humming with nerves and anxiety. The fabric of his shirt is cold and sticky on his body. But this feels like the most perfect time to do this.

"I love him."

It's dead quiet for a few seconds. Mike, oddly enough, feels light. Like a huge weight has finally been lifted off his shoulders. His lungs open up again, and he lets out a relieved wet sigh. He hears Max lay down next to him, quiet.

"Okay," she says eventually. Mike peels his arm away from his face to look at her. She's looking up the sky. He can't quite read her expression.

"Okay," Mike parrots, unsure what else to say. He links his hands on his chest, nervously picking at his nails.

"Does.. Does Will know? That you love him?"

"Yeah," Mike says without skipping a beat. He nods quickly, and a dopey smile spreads on his face. "We've actually, uh.. We've been dating since the party."

"Really?" Max sits up suddenly and looks at Mike. He looks back at her with wide eyes.

"Yeah," he says, voice cracking.

"Hm," Max raises an eyebrow, thinking. After a few seconds she lays back down.

"What?" Mike asks sheepishly.

"Nothing. Just.. That makes a lot of sense," Max says, nodding to herself. She doesn't sound angry or overly happy. Impressed, maybe. Yeah, definitely impressed. "You two have always had something special going on."

"Special?" Mike repeats, raising an eyebrow. His tears have finally dried out. His voice gains that playful tone back.

"Yeah," Max chuckles, eyes crinkling in the corners. "I always noticed you were much closer to Will than the rest of us. I mean, yeah, you've known each other longer. Obviously, but still. You were always very.. protective of him."

Mike can't stop smiling. His cheeks are red and hot, up to the tips of his ears. They also feel sticky and gross with the combination of Coke and dried tears, but he doesn't care about that right now. He feels warm and fuzzy inside.

"Remember Halloween night, when I moved here? When you dorks dressed up as Ghostbusters?" Max continues, giggling more.

"I'm not following," Mike narrows his eyes at her. Max rolls her eyes and sits up.

"You were all like," Max does a very dramatic Mike impression. "I got him! I got him!"

"Shut the fuck up," Mike laughs and bumps Max in the elbow. As far as he can reach. "That's not what happened."

"I was there," Max rolls her eyes. "Or if you don't believe me, ask Lucas or Dustin."

Mike's smile falters. He stops laughing and goes back to fidgeting. Max notices, her own smile dropping, too. She lays back down.

"Do.. Do they know?" she asks quietly.

"No. Not yet," Mike shakes his head and takes a deep breath. Then exhales loudly. "So far it's just Jane, you and maybe Nancy."

"Maybe Nancy?" Max repeats, scrunching her face in confusion.

"Long story," Mike waves his hand dismissively.

They just look up at the sky for a while without saying anything. Mike's heartbeat has gone down to a healthier pace. He slowly sits up, groaning like an old man as he does so. Max follows shortly after and wraps her arm around his shoulders.

"You better not mess this up, Wheeler. That boy has been in love with you for, like, a decade at this point."

Mike's head snaps towards her. His face is all scrunched up. She looks at him, then her eyebrows shoot up in realization.

"Oh shit," she slaps her hand over her mouth.

"How do you- What?" Mike mumbles, scrunching his face even more.

"You should probably talk to him about that at some point. Anyway," Max claps his shoulder roughly and stands up, clearing her throat.

She looks around, stretching her limbs. It's dark, the parking lot is completely empty and quiet, and no one has run out of the theater looking for them after all this time. Something sparks up behind her eyes.

"Come on," she stretches her hand out to Mike. He hesitantly grabs it, and she pulls him back up to his feet.

"What are we doing?" Mike whispers, looking around.

"We're going home," Max says it like it's a fact.

"We still have, like, three hours left before our shift ends," Mike mumbles, checking his watch. Some of the Coke got on it. He taps it with his finger to make sure it still works.

"You're nasty and sticky," Max gestures to his dress shirt, now stained a faint brown.

"Thanks?"

"You know," Max starts. She's rocking back and forth on her feet. "I'm actually quitting tomorrow. They're gonna give me all the money I earned, then Jane and I were gonna go to the mall, to get Lucas's present. Do you.. wanna come along? Or whatever?"

She looks down at the ground, shrugging awkwardly. Like it's physically uncomfortable for her to invite Mike to hang out. He chuckles weakly, rubbing his neck.

"Yeah, sure. I'd like that," he says, feeling just as awkward.

Chapter Text

Mike woke up not feeling miserable for once. He showered, had a nice breakfast and changed into a half decent outfit. For the past week all he's been wearing is pajamas and that damn dress shirt. Feels nice to just wear a polo shirt with shorts. He grabs a pair of sunglasses on his way out.

The sun is shining, birds are singing, and the air smells like freshly cut grass. It's warm, but not overwhelming. It's actually just the kind of weather Mike loves. The sky is clear and a pleasant shade of blue.

When Mike walks outside, he sees the source of that grassy smell. In his front yard are none other than Lucas and Dustin, both covered in sweat, standing above the Wheeler's lawn mower. The grass is freshly trimmed. Lucas has his shirt off and is drinking from a water bottle. Dustin is trying to snatch it out of his hands, also dying of thirst.

Mike stands at his front door, dumbfounded. He throws his hands in the air in frustration. The other two see him and wave at him, like it's not weird that they're mowing his lawn on a random morning. Mike stomps over to them.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?" he grumbles. They're about to pull him into a hug, but he jumps back with a disgusted face.

"What's it look like we're doing?" Dustin asks, hands on his hips. His shirt is soaking wet, sticking to his body. He finally gets his hands on the water and takes a few big gulps.

"So," Mike turns to Lucas, face blank. "When I ask you to let me mow at least one lawn for your rich neighbors, you say no. But then you take Dustin to mow my lawn?"

"Time flies, people change," Lucas shrugs, all smug.

"This isn't even a two person job," Mike looks around. Their front yard is not that big, and there's only one lawn mower.

"We used the power of friendship," Dustin declares. He tries to wrap his arm around Lucas's shoulder, but then he immediately pulls back. Too sweaty.

"Uh huh," Mike says with a raised eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Where are you going?" Lucas asks, giving Mike an up and down look.

"None of your business," Mike blurts out. He immediately regrets it and changes his tone. "Hanging out with Max and Jane."

Both boys give him wide eyes and their jaws hang open. Mike looks back at them and scoffs, feeling very offended. Dustin and Lucas exchange a glance, then Lucas claps Mike on the shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance.

"I don't know what you did to deserve an invite, but I applaud you, my dear friend," Lucas says dramatically, dropping his head down.

Mike looks over at Dustin and mouths a 'what'.

"Girl hangouts are sacred, dude," Dustin begins, grabbing Mike's other shoulder. Mike grunts from the pain. "Only Will has gotten such privilege."

"What?" Mike is still not following. He looks between his two friends, face all scrunched and wrinkled. "That's literally your girlfriend, and your.. almost girlfriend."

"Well, yeah," Lucas pauses, narrowing his eyes. "But they're very particular about their hangouts."

"Yeah. You're a VIP now," Dustin adds, giving Mike an impressed face. Mike stares at them, then scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"Jesus Christ," he whispers, swatting their hands off his shoulders. "I gotta go. I'm already late."

"Oh, big mistake, buddy. Big mistake," Lucas stretches. Both him and Dustin have their arms crossed, ominously shaking their heads at Mike.

Mike scoffs at them and bikes to Jane's house. When he arrives, he sees what the other two boys meant. He was met by Max and Jane, clearly annoyed, sitting on the front porch. Jane's anger was a little more subtle, while Max was full on trying to blow him up with her mind. He's sure if Jane still had her powers, his brains would've been splattered all over the Byers front yard.

"Hey," he says quietly, keeping some distance from the house.

"Ten minutes, Wheeler. We've been out here for ten minutes," Max says through her teeth. She stands up, and Mike flinches instinctively.

"Hi," Jane says and gives him a side hug. She at least spares Mike a small smile. He's about to open his mouth and apologize for being late, but Max speaks up first

"Come on. We have places to be," she says and gets on her skateboard.

Jane quickly gets up on her own bike. Hopper bought an old one from one of their neighbors a few months ago and, with Jonathan's help, fixed it up for her. She was so excited about it, and decorated it when it was done. Mike follows close behind.

They ride down the road, Max leading the way. Only she takes them somewhere else. Mike was expecting to go to the movie theater first, but then they turned the opposite direction. Mike speeds up a little to ride alongside Max.

"Where are we going?" he shouts, glancing over at her.

"The hospital first," she answers. Mike scrunches his face in confusion.

"Do I have to be there for that? I could've just met you later at the theater," he grumbles. Max scoffs and shakes her head at him. Mike's voice goes higher. "What? I don't wanna go to your fucking doctor's appointment."

"We always go to each other's doctor's appointments," Jane catches up to them. They're riding in a row down the road. Luckily there are no cars.

"What?" Mike looks at her, bewildered. He's never gone to Lucas's or Dustin's appointments. He's been to Will's, kind of, but that's different.

"Moral support. Also, it's just more fun when someone else is there with you," Jane shrugs. She looks up at the sky, soaking in the warmth and sunshine.

"I'm not going in with you," Mike shudders. On the other side of him, Max is chuckling.

"Then don't, if you're too scared. We'll be quick," Max teases. Her previous anger seems to have faded.

They arrive to the hospital and park their bikes, Max keeps her skateboard on her. Mike hesitates, but follows them inside. The halls are big and bright, and everything smells like bleach. He winces at the sensation. He hasn't been here in a while.

Max talks to the secretary for a bit. They seem to be familiar with each other. Max even jokes with the older woman. Mike looks over at Jane. She's fidgeting with her hands and her face looks a little more serious than it did previously. As they're walking down the halls, he catches up to her.

"Everything okay?" he asks quietly. Jane doesn't answer right away. She glances up at him, looking a little lost in thought.

"Yes," she nods a few times. Almost mechanically, she stops fidgeting and puts her hands down at her sides. Mike takes note of that.

"I don't like hospitals," he grumbles, trying to lighten the mood.

"Me, too."

He didn't exactly lighten the mood, but he hopes he helped at least a little. Let her know she's not the only one who's uncomfortable here. He's seen endless white hallways just like this in his nightmares time and time again. The monsters lurking around, eager to rip him and his loved ones to shreds. Little him, dragging Will's limp body, terrified out of his mind. Eventually those specific nightmares faded away, but he still feels heavy in hospitals.

Max is leading the way again. They pass by other patients, stressed out nurses, and finally reach the room they need. Jane sits down on a bench, Mike follows. Max just goes inside, leaving the other two in the hallway. Mike leans back against the wall and sighs. He's already tired and the day has just started.

Jane and Mike don't really talk much while they wait. They can faintly hear Max's and someone else's voices coming from the room. The hospital is mostly quiet, except for nurses talking or rattling of wheels echoing through the halls. Mike tries to read the posters on the wall across from him to kill his boredom, but all the letters are blurring together. He narrows his eyes, tilts his head, even makes binoculars out of his hands to try and focus, but it's still blurry. Jane looks at him like he's lost his mind.

He gives up and just walks up to the posters. He had to get pretty damn close until the letters weren't blurry anymore. Surely, that's normal. Not a big deal at all.

Finally, the door opens and Max walks out with a small bag of meds in her hands. Behind her another familiar figure emerges. A nurse with a bright smile, big round eyes and a red pixie. Jane stands up and hugs her.

"Hi, Vickie," she says. Vickie hugs her back, then notices Mike.

"Hey," Mike waves awkwardly. He and Vickie know each other, but they're not close.

"Hey," Vickie stretches, eyebrows slightly furrowed in surprise. She tilts her head and turns to Max. "He's allowed to tag along now?"

"We'll see how it goes," Max replies, her eyes shooting daggers at Mike. He can hear Jane quietly giggle.

"Alright," Vickie says, sensing the tension. "See you in two weeks?"

"Yeah. Thanks," Max's tone switches immediately. From snarky to happy. She smiles at Vickie, hugs her and waves her goodbye.

Vickie wishes them all an amazing day, and they leave the hospital. Mike opens the door, and holds it long enough for the girls to pass through. Max kneels down to put her meds in her backpack.

"So.. you gonna live?" Mike tries to joke, kicking a pebble around.

"Yeah, to spite you," Max barks back without missing a beat.

Mike doesn't have a response, so he just nods, shutting his mouth. Their next stop is the movie theater. It's a bit far, so Mike had some time to think. About halfway there Jane asked to stop by a grocery store to buy something to drink. While she's inside, Mike and Max wait near the bike stands. They're quiet for a bit. Mike isn't sure how to start the conversation. He lets out a loud, dramatic sigh.

"So," he starts. "You're quitting."

"Uh.. Yeah?" Max raises an eyebrow.

"Cool, cool," Mike nods to himself. "And.. they'll give you all the money you've earned?"

"Yup."

"Uh huh," Mike traps his bottom lip between his teeth, thinking. He's rocking back an forth, trying to collect his thoughts.

"Just spit it out," Max groans, impatient.

"I think I wanna quit, too," Mike blurts out, finally. Then his hands start flying around in useless gestures the more he talks. "I just- I calculated it last night. Now, I don't have the exact number, but I'm pretty sure I earned just enough to buy those brushes. I mean, that was the whole reason why I got the job in the first place, right? So.. If I have the money, I don't need to keep going there anymore. Does that make sense?"

"I tuned out, like, half of that," Max says flatly and rolls her eyes. "Do whatever you want. I'm sure they'll be devastated to lose such a precious employee."

Mike just nods along. He kind of appreciates it, actually. He did stay up last night thinking this over, weighing out the pros and cons. There's another reason why he wants to quit, though. He really doesn't want to keep working there without Max. That place was miserable, but having a familiar face there made it somewhat bearable. It being Max specifically also helped. He'll never admit it out loud, though.

___

They're sitting on a curb in the parking lot behind the movie theater. Jane is eating a grape popscicle, while Max and Mike are counting their money, finally free from the shackles of employment. Mike is looking at the crisp bills in his hands like they're something otherworldly. It's his first paycheck. Real paycheck. That he earned himself, and gets to spend on Will.

A stupid grin spreads on his face. Luckily for him, he was right. All those restless hours, stress and misery paid off. He earned enough, even has some extra. A wave of happiness and pride washes over him. Max looks at him like she's about to throw up.

"I'm guessing you got enough?" she says, raising her eyebrow.

"Yeah," Mike stretches and it almost turns into a giggle. His limbs are so electrified. He wants to kick his feet, wave his arms around, jump, fly, dance, twirl, maybe do a backflip. Instead he lays back on the pavement, pressing the money to his chest.

"Oh, Jesus," Max rolls her eyes. She meets eyes with Jane, who's looking at Mike with a mix of amusement and concern.

"Don't push yourself like that again," Jane says gently, temporarily pulling Mike out of his world made of rainbows and sunshine.

"I agree," Max nods with a sigh. "You can find something easier. A cashier, a lifeguard, waiter, pet sitter or something. Babysitting- Actually, no. Nevermind."

"Yeah," Mike doesn't notice the diss, mind still somewhere else.

"We're serious, Wheeler," Max says louder.

"Uh, yeah. I know," Mike clears his throat.

"Will wouldn't want you torturing yourself like this for him," Jane adds, curving her brows. That does it for Mike.

He sits up, suddenly serious and tuned back in the conversation. He looks at the money in his hand again. Jane is right. Mike would do anything to make Will happy, to make sure he's well taken care of. No matter how many back breaking days and sleepless nights it takes. But he also knows that Will wouldn't want that. He would probably feel overwhelmed by all the attention and effort. Mike is gonna have to learn to work around that.

"Yeah. I- I won't. I promise," he says quietly, looking down at his sneakers.

They all stand up from the curb. Max stretches her legs, then looks at her watch. It's not even noon yet. The sun is high up in the sky. The air is getting crispier, but it's bearable. Max clicks her tongue, then looks at the other two, excited.

"Mall?" she asks simply.

"Yes please," Jane says and darts to her bike.

"Yeah," Mike starts walking, then suddenly stops. "Hold on."

He looks at his money one more time. He counts it again, traces the edges of each crisp bill with his finger, spreads them like a fan, looks at them from different sides, even takes a whiff. Just taking it in, his first honestly earned paycheck. He sighs loudly, then shoves the money into his wallet. Max watched his every move with an unimpressed face.

___

The mall is loud today. Frustratingly so. Walking is an actual challenge. People block the pathways, stand in front of escalators like imbeciles, or walk at a turtle's pace. Mike is impatient. He glides between people, bumping shoulders with some of them. He breathes out quick apologies, but keeps moving. Straight to the craft store.

Last time he was here, he was waiting for Lucas to pick the most perfect stickers for Max. He was groaning and whining like a child, rushing Lucas, then gave up and just looked around. Now Mike follows a similar path. Between the isles, to the back of the store where they have art supplies.

There it is.

A set of twenty five professional paint brushes, ranging in size and shape. A lot of them are super thin, Mike swears one of them is literally a single hair. Others are shaped weirdly. Mike assumes those are useful for something. They gotta be. A couple are very big and thick. Mike has definitely seen his dad use something similar when painting their fence.

Mike takes it from the display, carefully. The last time he was here he couldn't bring himself to even look at it for too long, let alone touch it. It felt too precious. Even the packaging feels fancy. Mike is sure Will is gonna love it. He nods to himself, very proud, and goes to the register.

Saying goodbye to most of his paycheck when he got it less than an hour ago stings, but he's still happy. Finally, this nightmare week is over. He reached his goal. He's holding his shopping bag tight, finally able to breathe freely.

The three are sitting at a table, exhausted. Jane bought herself a lemonade with ice, and she's curiously studying the brush set. So does Max. Mike is just laying back in his seat, stretching his legs.

"These look.. professional," Max nods, genuinely impressed. No note of sarcasm at all.

"He'll love them," Jane agrees, smiling wide. It brings a smile to Mike's face, too.

"I hope so," he says through a chuckle.

"This needs to go," Max says, poking at the price tag. She starts peeling it off, and Mike jumps up in his seat, mouth wide open.

"Careful! Don't damage the box," he snatches the brushes away, and starts peeling at the tag himself. He does an awful job, so Jane takes over.

"Who cares about the box? He's not gonna use it," Max rolls her eyes, waving her hand around. Jane is slowly picking at the sticker, with the accuracy of a surgeon.

"It needs to be perfect," Mike whispers, watching Jane's hands like a hawk. She notices, and scoffs at him.

She spends no more than a minute on it, then lifts her finger up with the price tag stuck to it, undamaged. The box looks brand new, not a trace of the sticker or any rips. Mike grabs the box and puts it back in the bag. Max rolls her eyes at how territorial he's being.

"Okay. My turn," she swings around in her chair and stands up, signaling to the other two to follow her.

They go to the clothing store on the second floor. Mike is clutching his bag to his body, protecting it. They walk in. It smells like a locker room, and not in a good way. It's just so.. guy. Max leads them to a mannequin, sporting a deep red jersey jacket. She turns to Mike, a silent question in her eyes. He looks back at her, confused. She sighs.

"What do you think?" she asks, trying very hard to keep her voice calm.

Mike walks up to the mannequin, looks it up and down. The jacket isn't his style at all, but it definitely feels very Lucas. He glances at Max, who is still looking at him and expecting an answer. Mike lazily reaches out to touch the fabric. It feels rough between his fingers, high quality. He steps back, lips pressed into a tight line.

"So?" Max asks again, tilting her head.

"It's.. It's nice? I don't know," Mike shrugs, throwing his arms out. He looks at it again, looking for something to comment on. He finds nothing. "Yeah, it's nice. Lucas will like it, I think."

"Great," Max sighs deeply. Her shoulders slump, and she looks over at Jane, screaming internally.

"What do you want from me? I don't know shit about.. jersey jackets," Mike angrily gestures at the mannequin.

"I thought you'd have something useful to say," Max barks back, then snatches one of the jackets on the hangers, the biggest size. Her voice goes quiet. "Gay guys usually care about this stuff."

She stomps away to the register. Mike doesn't respond. He stands there, eyebrows furrowed and jaw hanging open. He's staring somewhere into space, deep in thought. Max just called him gay. He knows she doesn't mean it in a bad way, but he's still taken aback. Is he gay? He hasn't really thought about it much. There were already too many things he had to figure out about himself.

He looks up at the mannequin. The blank male figure is tall and muscular, the ideal man. It's wearing the jersey jacket with nothing underneath, and low hanging black jeans. Mike's eyes trace the shiny plastic abs, leading down to the belly button and hip bones. The hands of the figure are large and veiny. The tight jeans show off the sculpted leg muscles.

Mike's face is all scrunched up. He can't figure out what he feels about this. Surely, gay guys are supposed to be attracted to this, but he doesn't really feel anything. He looks up at the blank face of the mannequin, and imagines Will's face instead. His fluffy hair, pretty lips, shiny green eyes, his big smile with bunny teeth poking out. That makes his heart skip a beat.

But then in combination with the overly muscular shiny body the fantasy falls apart. Mike frowns.

"Goddamnit," Max groans, putting the jacket back on the rack. That snaps Mike out of his inner crisis.

"What is it?" he asks.

"She doesn't have enough money," Jane answers sadly, as Max is too pissed to speak right now. She cups her hands over her mouth and takes a deep breath.

"I'm gonna fucking kill that manager," Max says through her teeth, eyes shut tight. "They didn't give me all of my money. The petty asshole really charged me for the extra soda and popcorn. Are you fucking kidding me? It wasn't even that much!"

Max keeps on ranting, Jane nodding along. Something sparks up behind Mike's eyes. He pulls out his wallet.

"How much?" he says, voice light. Max immediately shuts up and looks at him with wide eyes. When she connects the dots, she shakes her head.

"Don't," Max dismissively waves at him.

"How much?" Mike insists. He pulls out a few bills. "Is this enough?"

"Wheeler-"

"More?" he pulls out a few more and stretches his arm out.

"I don't need-"

"Just fucking take it," Mike interrupts, sounding angrier than he meant to. He clears his throat and fixes his tone. "Please."

Max looks at him for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowed. She turns to Jane for reassurance. Jane nods at the money, telling her to take it. Max rolls her eyes and snatches the bills out of Mike's hand. She grabs the jacket again and walks back to the register.

Jane and Mike wait for her outside the store. Mike is still distracted. He stares into space, deep in thought, until he feels a firm shove to his chest. He looks down and sees Max's hand with a few dollar bills. He takes them.

"I'll pay you back," Max says, still sounding annoyed. She doesn't look at Mike.

"Don't worry about it," he shakes his head, shoving the money back into his wallet.

"So," Jane joins in. "Can I choose where we go next?"

___

To Mike's surprise, Jane dragged them back to her house. The sun is slowly going down, the sky now a mix of blue, pink and orange. The air is getting a little chilly, sending waves of goosebumps up Mike's arms. They left the gifts in Jane's room. Like clockwork, Max pulled a ladder out of the shed, and they all climbed up to the roof. Mike was baffled throughout the entire process.

"You guys do this a lot?" he asks, finally situating himself. The roof feels rough beneath him.

"When no one's home," Jane shrugs, smiling. She lays down on her back, looking up at the sky.

"You alright, Wheeler?" Max asks when Mike starts staring off into space again.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I just.. Well," Mike wants to dismiss it, but stops himself. He lays down, too, and sighs. "I'm just thinking about.. what you said at the store."

"What did I say?" Max asks with a note of worry in her voice.

"About.. Uh.. About me being.. You know," Mike shuts his eyes and lets out a frustrated groan. Talking is so hard. "Gay."

"Uh huh," Max nods slowly, processing. She pauses for a few seconds, then it seems to click. "I didn't mean it in a bad way-"

"I know," Mike interrupts, nodding. "It's not that. It's more, like.. Fuck. I- I guess I'm just.. not sure if I'm gay?"

"Are you not?"

"I don't know," Mike shrugs. "I haven't really thought about it."

"You love Will, right?" Jane speaks up.

"Yes," Mike says without skipping a beat.

"So, you have to be at least a little bit gay," Max concludes. She lays down. All three of them are staring up at the sky, now slowly transitioning into a dark blue.

"I guess," Mike whispers, unsure.

"Have you ever.. thought about other people like that? Other guys?" Max asks quietly.

Mike hums, then pauses, deep in thought again. He doesn't think so. He's never looked at Lucas or Dustin like that. Just the thought makes him want to jump out of his skin. He doesn't remember ever looking at anyone else like that who wasn't Will. Not in kindergarten, not in school, or on the street. He has thought about guys looking good, sure, but that was just an observation, nothing more. He thinks that Lucas is good looking. It doesn't mean he's attracted to him.

Mike goes through the list of every guy he's ever known. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he's pouting without even realizing. The girls stay quiet, waiting. It goes on for maybe a minute or two. Then something clicks in Mike's brain. He springs up with a gasp, startling Max and Jane.

"Jesus Christ!" Max yelps, clutching at her chest.

"I- I think I.. Holy shit," Mike's eyes are wide and darting around. His breaths are ragged and uneven. Then his voice goes quiet, barely above a whisper. "I think I had a crush on Eddie."

The girls pause. They look at Mike, then each other, then back at Mike, then back at each other. Their jaws drop at the same time. They are desperate for details.

"Eddie? Eddie Munson? That Eddie?" Max keeps spitting out questions.

"I think so?" Mike looks somewhere ahead with his mouth open.

"Holy shit," Max smirks, amused.

"But- But it was a little crush!" Mike scrambles. His hands are flying around dramatically. "I wasn't in love with him, and I didn't wanna date him. I just- I thought he was really cool? And I.. I grew my hair out to look like him, and I loved playing D&D with him, you know? I guess I.. I admired him, in a way? But it was different than with Jonathan, or even Steve. Does that make any sense? I don't think I'm making any sense."

"Sure," Max shrugs, very amused. She looks to the side, thinking. "But.. Eddie and Will.. they're so different. Like, completely different."

"I think you might like brown hair and bangs," Jane blurts out.

They pause. Max tries to hold her reaction, but she ends up loudly snorting, then belly laughing. It's so loud it literally echoes between the trees. Jane starts laughing along, covering her mouth. Mike scoffs at them, his face is bright red.

"Whatever. Forget I said anything," he groans and rolls on his side, away from the girls. Max tries to calm down, gasping loudly and taking deep breaths between laughs.

"No, sorry. Man, that was good," Max bumps Jane's shoulder. She takes another sharp breath before a new wave of laughter can take over. "I had a crush on my third grade math teacher. Lovely woman, hope she's doing okay."

Mike sits up again, his eyes snapping at Max. She said it so casually, and she responds to Mike's baffled stare with a simple shrug. His face softens slowly. He turns to Jane, who's looking at him with a smile.

"Are you.. Like, is it okay to talk about this with you? It's not weird to you?" Mike asks her carefully.

"I don't care," Jane shrugs. Mike breathes out in relief.

"Okay. Good."

"I'm pretty sure I had a crush on Max at some point."

"WHAT?!"

___

When Mike gets home, the house is quiet. He feels good. Great, even. He stayed on the roof with the girls for a while, just talking about anything and everything, until Hopper was about to come back. Max was rushing him so much he almost fell off the ladder and died.

He's clutching the brushes, still protecting them. He goes upstairs, every other floorboard creaking beneath his feet. He doesn't make it to his room, though.

"Mike, is that you?" Nancy's voice coming from her room. Mike stops in front of his door.

"Uh, yeah," he replies, loud enough for Nancy to hear but quiet enough not to disturb the rest of the family.

He stands there for a second, hand hovering above the door handle. He could just walk in and go to bed, but something in him is telling him to go see Nancy. His body is buzzing with excitement, and he wants to share it. That childlike feeling of wanting to tell your sibling about a good grade or a new friend, to seek that approval. Mike follows that urge, carefully peeking through Nancy's slightly open door. A stripe of soft light is coming from the inside, illuminating the dimmed hallway.

"Hey," Mike says softly. Nancy is laying on her bed, already in pajamas, reading a book. She immediately gets up when she sees her brother.

"Hey. You okay?" she shifts around to sit on the edge of her bed. Her eyebrows curve in worry.

"Yeah, I'm great. I had a.. Had a fun day," Mike says, shifting around on his feet.

Nancy waves her hand at him, inviting, and he slowly walks in. He hasn't been in her room in a while, maybe years. He looks around, memorizing every detail. As a kid he didn't really care about Nancy's privacy or her belongings. He would barge in no problem, mess with her stuff, then laugh at how upset she would get. He was a little shit, to put it plainly.

As he got older he stopped, and now Nancy's room felt sacred, like something he wasn't allowed to breach. Not that he really wanted to, anyway. Nancy on the other hand, did the opposite. The older she got, the more she started barging into Mike's room, be it to simply check up on him or look for something she needs. It always annoys Mike, but deep down he appreciates that someone in this house cares enough to at least ask if he's alright.

He stands awkwardly at the door, holding the brushes. Nancy looks at him intently, then points at the box.

"What's that?" she asks, voice soft.

"Oh, it's the- It's the gift, for Will," Mike stutters, and rushes to sit on the bed next to Nancy. He gives her the box, nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"Wow," Nancy stretches, taking a good look at the brush set. She looks for a few seconds, then nods, impressed. "Were they expensive?"

"It.. It doesn't matter," Mike waves his hand dismissively. He slouches forward, and uses that same hand to prop up his face, elbow digging into his thigh. Nancy chuckles.

"Well, good job," she nods again and smiles at her brother.

"Thanks," Mike mumbles, muffled by his palm. He feels so weirdly embarrassed.

"I mean it, Mike. Will's gonna love them," Nancy passes the box back. Hearing Will's name makes Mike's ears perk up and he sits up straighter.

"Has he- Did Jonathan call? I was gonna come earlier, but we lost track of time."

"He called about two hours ago," Nancy's face shifts into a guilty expression. She puts her palm on Mike's shoulder. "They're already on their way here."

"They are?" Mike said much louder than he meant to. His head snapped towards Nancy and he sat up completely straight. She holds back a laugh.

"Yeah. They should be here either this time tomorrow, or early in the morning. Depends if they stop at a hotel," Nancy explains. Mike is listening intently and nodding along.

"Okay. Okay," Mike whispers, looking somewhere into space. Then his eyes snap back to Nancy. "Can you, uh.. Can you, like, keep me updated on that? Like, tell me when they get here? I wanna.. I wanna go see them."

"Of course. Joyce invited everyone," Nancy says without skipping a beat. Her grip on Mike's shoulder tightens. "Also, Will said hi. And that he misses you and can't wait to see you."

"Okay," Mike whispers. He can't stop the stubborn grin spreading on his face, or the blush creeping up his cheeks. He bites his smile down and clears his throat. "Well, uh.. Thanks. I- I'm gonna.. Gonna go to my room now."

"Yeah," Nancy lets go of his shoulder. Mike stands up and gets to the door in long strides.

"Goodnight," he whispers, looking down at the floor.

"Goodnight, Mike," Nancy whispers back and goes back to reading her book.

___

Mike barely slept, too full of anticipation and nerves. He kept thinking about the fact that Will is finally coming back, getting closer and closer with every hour that passes. The time moves too slowly. Mike tried to distract himself. Take a nap, shower, read a comic, try to write something, anything. He would do that for a while, then check the clock and see it's only been a couple minutes.

The brush set is proudly laying on his desk. Mike looks at it from time to time, wipes off any dust that dared land on the box. Like it's a precious artifact.

He's tense all morning, even at breakfast. His leg won't stop shaking, he's constantly glancing over at the clock and scoffing when the arrows don't magically speed up. Nancy sees it. She looks at him both amused and annoyed.

"You need to relax," she says quietly when Mike's entire body starts full on shaking.

"I am relaxed," he mumbles back, clearly not very relaxed. Nancy sighs.

"Do you have work today?" she asks, trying to change the topic.

"Oh, I quit," Mike shakes his head.

"What?"

"Yeah," Mike leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. "You were right, it wasn't good for me. I can find something else."

"Okay," Nancy says quietly.

They get interrupted by a car horn beeping outside. A long beep first, then a bunch of short ones, recreating a silly melody. The Wheeler siblings look at each other confused, then Mike gets up to see what's going on. He cautiously opens the door, then his face drops when he sees it.

Lucas and Dustin. Of course.

The two are in Lucas's dad's car, parked right in front of Mike's house. Lucas has one arm on the wheel, the other hanging out the window. He's wearing his new jersey, combined with shades. Mike is standing in the doorway, still in his pajamas and his hair sticking out in different directions. He's way too tired to be dealing with this.

"Hey, hot stuff! Need a ride?" Lucas shouts, playfully lowering his sunglasses to look at dishevelled Mike.

"No?" Mike scrunches his face.

"Oh come on, man. Can you just play along?" Lucas's flirty act drops immediately. He rubs his eyes out of frustration.

"I- I don't need a fucking ride, Lucas. I'm eating breakfast," Mike grumbles, pointing back at his kitchen.

"Oh, so you hate us," Dustin pokes his head out, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. "You hang out with the girls one time, and there go all the years of our friendship? That's messed up."

"So messed up," Lucas joins, shaking his head. They both make dramatically sad faces at Mike.

"I'm not doing this right now," Mike mumbles, annoyed, and turns around to walk back inside.

Then the car horn blares again, in one long, uninterrupted beep. Dustin reached over to press it. Lucas even laid back to give him better access, showing no intention of stopping him. They both glare at Mike, mischief shining behind their eyes. Mike rolls his eyes and gets to the car in a few long strides, in socks and all.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I hate you guys," he reaches into the car and swats Dustin's hands away from the wheel. The two are still looking at him, all innocent. He sighs, defeated. "Just give me five minutes."

As he's walking back inside, Lucas presses the horn again, letting out one last quick beep, just to annoy Mike that little bit more.

Lucas is driving them along the narrow streets, clearly enjoying himself. Music is quietly playing on the radio, Lucas and Dustin are in the front talking, while Mike is in the middle back seat, trying not to lose his mind. He's tried asking where they're going, multiple times, but got told to 'wait and see'.

"So, Mike," Dustin yells, looking at Mike through the rearview mirror. "How was it yesterday? Hanging out with the girls?"

Mike sighs and presses his forehead into the back of Lucas's seat. He tries to ignore the question, but Dustin keeps pushing.

"Come on, man," he whines.

"You went to the mall, right?" Lucas adds. They stop at a red light and he turns around to look at Mike.

"Yeah," Mike says, slowly peeling his forehead away from the leather.

"Figured," Lucas nods. The light turns back to green, and he focuses on the road again. "Max said you were useless."

"Okay, I lent her, like, ten bucks for your jacket. How is that useless? Technically, it's my gift for you, too," Mike complains, suddenly very energetic and loud.

"Thank you?" Lucas narrows his eyes, confused.

"It's a great jacket, though," Dustin adds, giving Lucas an impressed up and down look.

Lucas starts rambling on about the jacket. The colors, the design, the material, the quality. Somehow it manages to turn into an argument between him and Dustin, even though neither of them knows much about jersey jackets. Dustin always finds a way to one up his friends.

Mike tuned most of it out, thoughts drifting somewhere else. His eyes glide over Lucas, curious. He's leaning back in his seat, one arm comfortably on the steering wheel, the other hanging out the window. The shades make Lucas look actually pretty cool. He has a little facial hair coming in, his hair is nicely styled.

It is definitely too warm today to wear a jacket, but Lucas clearly wants to show off his gift. The jacket does suit him well, like it was made specifically for him. It sits nicely on his shoulders, making him look even more buff than he already is. The sleeves are loose enough to not be restrictive, but still show off Lucas's flexing muscles when he turns the wheel.

Mike stares. Hard, and long. He doesn't mean to. He compares Lucas to the blank mannequin he saw at the mall. Lucas definitely evokes more emotion in him, but he still doesn't feel much. Not attraction, and definitely not love. Mike might just be attracted to Will Byers and no one else.

"Alright, we're here," Lucas parks and breathes out in relief.

Mike snaps back to reality. He peels his eyes away from Lucas, and almost immediately locks them with Dustin, who was already looking back. Studying. Mike clears his throat and clumsily gets out of the car. They arrived to Hunting & Camping.

"They opened it back up?" Mike asks, squinting from the sun. He brings his hand up to his forehead to block it out.

"Yup," Lucas nods, hands on his hips.

"So.. why are we here?"

"I wonder what we could possibly need at a camping store, Michael. It's not like we're planning a camping trip," Dustin says sarcastically.

"Whatever, man," Mike rolls his eyes.

The store smells like dust, rubber and cigarette smoke. Dustin and Lucas light up, looking like two little kids let loose in a candy store. Mike lazily follows them around, frowning and squinting at all the gear. They get stuck in the tent section for a while. Dustin needs one, and he's just way too picky about it.

"What about this one?" he points at a neon orange tent.

"It's for two people," Lucas says, unimpressed. He squints a little at how bright and eye burning the color is.

"Yeah, I know. That's the point. I want space," Dustin grabs one of the packaged tents and intently looks at it, thinking. Then he nods. "I'm getting it."

"Have you told Will about this?" Mike speaks up, voice a little rough from not saying anything for the past twenty minutes.

"Uh.. Not yet, no," Lucas fumbles, shaking his head.

"We'll just tell him when he gets here," Dustin adds, now looking at camping chairs.

"I'm not going without him," Mike blurts out before he can stop himself. It sounded way angrier than he meant to.

They all pause. Dustin and Lucas just stare at Mike for a bit. Dustin's hand is still hanging in the air above the chairs. Mike feels embarrassment creeping its way up his spine. He tightly crosses his arms on his chest, trying to look casual, but that just made it more awkward. Lucas clears his throat, finally easing the tension.

"No, yeah. Obviously. Right?" he turns to Dustin and they both nod at each other.

"Yeah. We're not going anywhere without him," Dustin adds, nodding rapidly.

"Yeah," Lucas continues. He turns back to Mike. "If he doesn't wanna go, we can just come up with something else. Not a big deal."

"Yeah," Dustin finishes.

Mike wants to die.

They walked around the store for a while, mostly because Dustin couldn't make up his mind on what he needs. A tent, a good camping chair, a flashlight, a better sleeping bag since his is pretty old and worn down, a duffel bag. The basics, at least for now. Mike and Lucas ended up loading it all into the car.

By this time the sun is hanging high up in the sky, bright and hot. Lucas even took off his jacket. Underneath it he's wearing a tank top, showing off his muscular arms, glistening with sweat. Mike stares again, for science. His eyes trace each curve, from his shoulders down to his fingers.

Nope. It does nothing for him. Only thing it does do for him is make him wonder if Will likes muscles, if Mike should maybe hit the gym with Lucas. Then Mike imagines lifting Will up in his arms and gets lost in his thoughts again.

___

Eventually the boys end up on the lake, just sitting on a rocky ledge, talking. Finally, the time seems to fly by for Mike. It only really hits him when the sky starts fading from blue to pink. He springs back up to his feet, startling the other two boys.

"I need to go home. Right now," he whispers, frantic. His eyes are wide and his heart is hammering in his chest.

"Everything okay?" Dustin asks, genuinely concerned. He and Lucas stand up as well.

"Y- Yeah, I just- I need to get home. I lost track of time. I gotta go," Mike stutters, brain racing against his mouth. He starts quickly walking away.

"Hold on! I got you," Lucas rushes after him, car keys in hand.

He quickly gets Mike home, and he springs out of the car, breathing out quiet 'thank you's' and 'sorry's'. He barges into his own home, heartbeat not intending on slowing down anytime soon. Nancy is in the living room watching TV. She gets startled by Mike's sudden arrival. It takes her a few seconds of looking at a flushed and panting Mike to figure out what's going on. She sighs.

"They'll be here tomorrow, around nine," she says, tired but trying to keep her voice calm.

"Oh," Mike blinks a few times.

He lets out a sigh of relief that feels like it came from the depths of his soul, and his entire body slouches over. He thought he was running late. He planned to come home earlier, just in case the Byers brothers came today, but completely lost track of time while listening to his friends argue about movies and videogames.

The relief quickly gets replaced by embarrassment, though, and he darts upstairs into his room without saying another word. The brush set is still laying on his desk, with a few new dust particles on it. He carefully wipes them away with his fingers, and they linger there.

Mike takes a good look at it again. The packaging looks nice and professional, but it also feels.. incomplete? It doesn't really look or feel like a gift, especially one for Will. Will likes colors, and that sense of surprise. Mike sighs. He was all around town today, and didn't even think to stop somewhere and get some wrapping paper or something. He rubs his eyes, so hard he sees shapes.

It's late, and most stores are closed right now. Tomorrow he won't have time to go and buy it, then quickly wrap the gift. If Jonathan and Will arrive around nine, Mike should probably be at their house at eight, just to be sure. To be there at eight he should probably wake up at seven, to have enough time to get ready. Yeah. Seems reasonable.

He doesn't want to finish the gift last second, Will doesn't deserve that. Mike is already pushing it. He thinks about it for a while, even digs around his room in hopes that maybe by some miracle he has some wrapping paper from one of his Christmas gifts or something. That gives no results. Then, finally, a lightbulb goes off in his brain.

He walks down the hallway to Holly's room, and gently knocks on the door.

"Come in," Holly says, muffled.

"Hey, it's me," Mike says softly as he's opening the door and walking in. "Are you busy right now?"

"Not really," Holly says. She's in her pajamas, laying on her stomach and scribbling in her journal. She stops to look up at Mike.

"I need a favor," Mike says sheepishly.

"I can do that," Holly springs up, already intrigued.

"Do you have, uh.. Like, wrapping paper, or a gift bag, or something?"

"Ooh, a present for someone?" Holly stands up and walks over to her desk, fingers twitching with anticipation.

"It's, um.. Hold on," Mike quickly goes back to his room to retreat the brush set.

He sets it on Holly's bed. His cheeks are slightly flushed. She looks at the box, furrowing her brows and humming, deep in thought. She measures it with her hands, tilts her head, looks at it from different angles.

"Who's it for?" she finally asks.

"It- It doesn't matter," Mike blurts out, dismissively waving his hand.

"Yes, it does," Holly argues, opening a drawer filled with all kinds of papers. From sparkly rainbows to soft pastels. "How am I supposed to pick the best wrapping paper if I don't know who the gift is for? It has to match the person."

"I guess you're right," Mike whispers after a brief pause. It does make sense.

"Is it for Will?"

"Uh.. Well- Yeah. Yeah, it's for Will," Mike fumbles. He can already feel the stubborn blush creeping up his neck.

"What's his favorite color?"

"Yellow," Mike answers so quickly he almost interrupts Holly.

Holly hums to herself, carefully rummaging through the drawer. It's both chaotic and organized. Seems like she's the only one who can successfully find anything in there. Mike smiles to himself. His room is an absolute mess that even he can't figure out. Nancy's is perfectly organized all the time. Holly's is a weird mix of the two.

She pulls out a few options. Different shades of yellow, some have patterns on them. From stripes, to polka dots, to flowers. She sets them all in front of Mike in a neat row. He looks at them, humming.

"This one, I think," he points to a soft yellow roll with daisies all over.

"Good choice," Holly approves, and puts all the other papers away.

Mike tries to take the chosen roll out of Holly's hand, but she doesn't let go. He shoots her a confused look. She looks back at him, expression serious like never before.

"You're not wrapping it," she says plainly.

"I can do it!" Mike whines, tugging at the paper again.

"Do you want it to actually look good for Will?" Holly argues. That does it.

Mike reluctantly lets go. He sits on the edge of Holly's bed, arms crossed on his chest, and watches her wrap up the gift. Maybe it is better for her to do it. Mike's present wrapping skills leave much to be desired. His gifts usually look like a crumpled up mess, more tape than paper, barely holding together. His thought process is it's going to get all ripped up anyway, no point in wasting time and making it look pretty.

But with Will it's different. He wants it to be perfect for Will. Without even realizing it, Mike tries to memorize how Holly does it, for the future. How she measures the box and the paper, how she wraps it around, folds it over and tapes it down. When she's done it looks perfect, straight out of a commercial. She proudly presents it to Mike, but as he's about to grab it, she pulls the box back.

"It needs a ribbon," she says, determined.

"No, Holly. It's fine," Mike tries to argue, but Holly is already digging through another drawer with the gift tucked under her arm.

She pulls out a few different ribbons, trying to find the best match. Ultimately she lands on a thin white ribbon, perfectly matching the petals on the daisies. She ties it into a neat little bow, and finally hands the gift back to Mike, with a beaming smile.

"Woah," Mike holds it like it's the most precious thing in the world, careful and delicate.

He can already imagine Will's face when he sees this, the way his eyes will sparkle, how wide and bright his smile will be, bunny teeth poking out and all. Mike's own lips involuntarily stretch into a dopey grin, and he blushes up to the tips of his ears, daydreaming already.

"Is that all?" Holly breaks the silence. Mike hasn't said anything in about a minute.

"Yeah! Yeah. This looks- This looks great. Perfect. Thanks, Holly. So much," Mike stutters, clumsily getting off Holly's bed.

"Hope he likes it," she says, smiling and swinging back and forth.

"I'm sure he will," Mike smiles at her and nods. Before leaving, he stops in the doorway. "Goodnight."

Back in his room, Mike sets the wrapped up gift on his desk. In contrast to his dark and mostly blue room, the yellow paper really looks like sunshine. His desk lamp shining directly at it helps with that effect, too. It looks like a sunny field full of daisies. Mike just sits there and looks at it for a bit, swinging his feet and buzzing with excitement.

In just about ten hours from now he's going to see Will. Finally. He wants to just go to sleep to skip most of that time, but it feels impossible. As soon as he closes his eyes, any sleepiness or exhaustion just disappears. He twists and turns, stares up at the ceiling, paces around, goes downstairs to grab a snack and back. He cannot rest no matter how much he tries.

A few hours in, he gives up. If he's not falling asleep, might as well do something more useful. He digs through his closet, trying to put together a decent outfit. He feels kind of stupid doing that, but he wants to look nice for Will.

Mike finds a light blue button up shirt that's a bit big on him, but he's never really worn it anywhere. It might impress Will. It's most likely going to be hot during the day, and the fabric is thin enough. Mike tries it on in front of a mirror, and likes how it looks with the sleeves rolled up. Looks casual enough to not be too obvious that he's dressing up.

Then he found a decent pair of jeans, and everything else fell into place easily. He even laid it all out on his bed, like his mom used to do for him before school. Feels dumb, but it should make getting ready in the morning easier.

When he's done with that, it's still dark outside. He still has a few hours left to kill. He's yawning from time to time, tired, but his brain refuses to go to sleep. His body feels both heavy and like he's floating. He paces around a little more, then lays flat on the floor because that's what his sleep deprived brain wanted to do.

He turns his head to the side, looking under his bed, and something sparks up behind his eyes. After some rummaging, an old dusty box is on his desk. Mike blows the dust off of it, immediately coughing. He doesn't open it right away. For some time he just traces the edges of the cardboard with his fingertips, pondering if he should follow through with this idea he has.

Eventually, he opens the box and sees it. Every single letter Mike has written for Will, but was too scared to send. He saved all of them, and hid them away under his bed. Far away from anyone's eyes, including his own. He feels his throat go dry at the sight.

Some are neatly tucked into envelopes, others are just open, for everyone to see. The ones he knew he was never going to send anyway, so he didn't even bother. Mike picks up a few, and just seeing 'Dear Will' at the top makes his hands tremble. He looks away from the box to catch his breath, to calm down, then starts sorting through the letters.

He spends the next few hours slowly reading through most of them, constantly pausing to collect his emotions, to laugh, or to cry. The words transport him right back into the time they were written. Will being far away, Mike feeling lost and confused. Feeling like a piece of him was missing, but being too scared to confront it and do something to fix it. Him hurting Will so badly.

He wrote a lot about school, the best he could do at first. Lucas getting into basketball, them all getting into Hellfire, Eddie. He wrote a lot about Eddie. Mike couldn't help but chuckle at those letters. Looking back, it's very clear that he did, in fact, have at least a small puppy crush on him.

When the letters become more personal, Mike struggles. He feels awful reading them back. He's angry at himself for behaving the way he did, but also sad for younger him, that he felt this confused and wrong for so long.

Mike talks about Jane in some of the letters. He's not even sure why he would bring her up if the letters are for Will. The two literally live together and tell each other everything anyway. Maybe he was overcompensating, trying to create this perfect picture of their relationship, convince himself that it's the reality.

At this point the sun is slowly rising, softly illuminating Mike's room. It's still too early to start getting ready, though. Eventually he picks out one of the last letters he wrote. That he knew he was never going to send, so it's full of his unfiltered thoughts and feelings. When he's started figuring himself out slowly.

He wrote it just a few days before leaving to see Will and Jane in person. As he's reading it, his eyes well up with tears. Not for the first time tonight, but this one is definitely the most painful. His chest is aching, and he can barely make it halfway through the letter. Not that he really needs to reread it, though. He vividly remembers writing it, like it happened yesterday.

He digs out an envelope from the box, and tucks the letter inside, sealing it. He looks at it for a while, swallowing his sobs and all the emotions this wrinkled piece of paper brings up. The gift is sitting on the desk, neat and pretty. Mike carefully tucks the letter under the ribbon, trying not to mess up Holly's hard work. Now the present feels complete.

Mike feels exhausted and mentally drained. He slumps forward, head resting on the desk. The cool wood helps with his throbbing headache. He lets out a long sigh, feeling the emotions leave with it, and slowly dozes off to sleep.

Chapter Text

"Mike!"

"Mike, get up! It's almost eight!"

Mike jumps up, hitting his knees on his desk. He groans from pain, and it takes him a second to figure out where he is, what year it is and what the hell is going on. His eyelids are a bit swollen and they burn, his head is spinning a little. He fell asleep right there at his desk, surrounded by the letters.

He turns around and sees Nancy, all dressed up. She looks at him with wide eyes, a mix of anger and concern. Mike finally wakes up enough to connect the dots. His head jerks back around to his desk, and he starts clumsily gathering the letters and shoving them back into their box.

"Shit. Shit," Mike mutters under his breath, crumpling up the papers in hurry.

"What's all this?" Nancy asks, stepping closer.

"Nothing!" Mike shoves the last bunch of letters into the box and closes it. He's frantic and panting. "I- I'll be right down."

"Okay," Nancy is not convinced, but there's no time for this. "You have twenty minutes. I'll be in the car."

She leaves, and Mike sighs in relief. He shoves the box right back under his bed, and covers it with other stuff he has down there. He looks in the mirror and almost jumps back. He's got eye bags, his hair is a complete mess, and his face is all red and swollen around the eyes, from all the crying he did during the night. Great.

Mike takes the quickest shower of his life, and changes into the outfit he prepared. Laying it all out in advance actually helped. He left some of the top buttons of the shirt open and rolled up the sleeves so it's not too hot. The jeans were a hazard. He was pulling them on so fast he nearly stumbled and fell flat on his face. He dried his hair, but didn't have time to do anything else with it.

He managed to fit everything into fifteen minutes, not forgetting to grab the present on his way out. He leaps down the stairs, pulls his shoes on halfway and runs to the car like that. He pulls them on all the way once he's buckled in. He's panting and his face is red, but he made it on time.

Nancy shoots him a concerned look, but doesn't ask any questions. She starts up the car, and they leave the driveway. On their way to the Byers house they pick up Dustin. His hair is still a little damp from his shower, but he's very excited. He sits in the middle back seat.

"What's that? Is that for Will?" he asks, pointing to the gift in Mike's lap. Mike clutches the box closer out of reflex.

"Uh, yeah," he breathes out, a little flustered. He expects Dustin to make some kind of joke, but it doesn't come.

"That's nice," Dustin nods instead. "Pretty."

"It is, right?" Nancy agrees, smiling. "Did Holly help?"

"Why do you immediately assume that? What if I did it myself?" Mike complains, shooting Nancy nasty looks, even though her eyes are glued to the road.

"Did you?" Dustin leans forward between the two front seats, raising an eyebrow.

"Well- No. But what if I did?" Mike stutters, turning towards Dustin so far he's almost sitting backwards.

"Oh, we'd know if you did it," Dustin replies sarcastically, widening his eyes. Nancy laughs, agreeing.

"Whatever," Mike rolls his eyes and sinks back into his seat, the sudden burst of energy now gone.

When they arrive, the Byers house is unusually bright and loud. Lucas's dad's car is already parked in the front yard. Nancy pulls up next to it, and Mike leaps out of the car. The morning air has a chill to it, but it's still warm. Amazing smells are coming from the house. Different home cooked foods that remind Mike of childhood.

The three walk in, and immediately get swept up in the chaos. Joyce is in the kitchen, jumping between the oven, the stove and the fridge. There are at least three different pots and pans going, something is in the oven, every working surface is covered in cutting boards and dishes. Nancy immediately runs to help, though she struggles to join the chaotic process at first.

Out in the backyard Hopper, Erica and Lucas are trying to figure out the grill. They have meat marinating on a little table nearby. Lucas is kneeling down, looking at the grill from different angles, while Hopper is clutching his head, a beer bottle already in hand. Erica is looking at both of them, just absolutely done.

Mike lingers in the doorway, unsure what to do and how to help, plus he's pretty sure he isn't fully awake yet.

"Out of the way, Wheeler!" Max materializes behind him with a few plastic chairs in her arms. She doesn't wait and pushes Mike aside with her hip. Jane follows right behind her with some more chairs.

"They're an hour away," she tells Mike as she passes by him. The girls bring the chairs outside, for now leaving them stacked on the grass.

"Mike!" Joyce calls from the kitchen. Mike immediately follows. Her hair is in a messy ponytail, and her face is flushed. She's clearly been at this for at least two hours. "Could you go grab some more chairs from Will's room and bring them outside?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that," Mike replies and darts into Will's room like instinct.

Once he's there, the chaos dies down a bit. The voices get muffled, though his head is still humming from all of it. Will has two wooden chairs in his room. One at his desk, and another in the corner. Probably for when he's painting. Mike is still clutching the gift, to the point his fingers ache when he puts it on Will's desk. The paper did get wrinkled a tiny bit, but it's nothing major.

The room feels comforting. It still faintly smells like Will, and it looks neat and clean, except for some clothes on the bed. It seems like he cleaned up before leaving, as much as he could. Then possibly Joyce did laundry and left Will's on his bed. Mike stays there for a beat longer than necessary, just to clear his head.

He grabs both chairs at once, and drags them outside, muscles trembling. Dustin brings two more chairs, most likely from Jane's room, judging by the paint stains. He's a lot more energetic about it than Mike.

"Hey, Mike!" Lucas calls him over, waving. Mike reluctantly walks over there.

"What?" Mike asks, very unenthusiastic.

"Can you help us here?" Lucas points to the grill. It's not working, but Mike can't really tell what the problem is just by looking at it.

"Lucas, I don't know shit about grills," Mike scrunches his face and shrugs.

"I told you," Erica adds, giving her brother a death stare.

"This grill is older than all of you combined. Just let me do it," Hopper groans, rubbing his eyes in frustration, or maybe lack of sleep.

"I got it," Lucas argues, throwing his hands out.

Mike doesn't stay for the argument that follows, and shuffles back inside. His ears ring from how loud everything is. Bubbling and sizzling from the kitchen, everyone's voices. His head starts hurting again. Everyone else is running around, being useful and helping out. His fingers itch to join, but he's not sure how. For a while he just kind of follows everyone around, waiting to be told what to do. It seems like they got everything covered.

Jane and Dustin join the 'kitchen crew', as Mike dubbed them in his head. It's steaming hot in there from all the cooking, even with the windows wide open. Joyce and Nancy circle the stove, making sure nothing is burning. Dustin and Jane are at the table, assembling the dishes together.

"Mike!" Nancy waves him down. She already looks irritated with all the chaos happening around her. She hands Mike a stack of plates. "Take these outside to the table."

"Uh.. there is no table outside?" Mike mumbles.

"What?!" Joyce yelps, very stressed out. "No one thought to set up the table?!"

"We got it!" Dustin stands up, switching places with Max. He taps Mike on the shoulder and they both go outside, to the shed.

Mike lazily follows him. Dustin seems to know this place like the back of his hand. He easily opens the door that always gets stuck, finds the light switch, and pulls out the outside table. Mike grabs it on one side and helps shuffle it to a flat patch of grass. His shoulders slump from the weight.

"You think that'll be enough?" Max asks from the doorway.

"Um.. I guess we'll see," Dustin shrugs, hands on his hips.

The table is a decent size for the Byers family, but with the amount of guests they have today that's not really the case. It would be a miracle if they can fit all the food on there. Joyce is really going all out today.

"Might need to bring out the kitchen table," Max concludes, glancing back towards the kitchen.

"And how the hell are we supposed to do that?" Mike groans, already out of breath.

"Hey, who pissed in your cereal?" Dustin wraps his arm around Mike's shoulders, shaking him slightly. Mike furrows his brows more. "Will is coming back! Shouldn't you be, like, super happy about it?"

"I am happy about it," Mike grumbles.

"Well, it sure doesn't look like it! What's going on? Did you guys fight?"

"Leave it," Max says, loud and firm. Dustin pauses, sheepishly looking at her.

"Alright," he stretches, slowly peeling his arm away from Mike's shoulders. "I'll go get a.. a tablecloth, or something."

He disappears back into the house. Max looks at Mike, asking him if he's alright with just her eyes. Surprisingly, Mike actually gets it. He lightly nods in response. But Max isn't convinced. It's clear by her expression. Mike sighs.

"Just give me something to do," he grumbles as he walks back inside.

"I think the best thing you can do right now is not get in the way," Max says, teasing but it's also true.

Mike just nods and plops onto the couch, limbs spreading all over the place. Everyone has a system going, each taking care of their own task. Mike is just going to throw it all off. He rubs his face hard, trying to fight back the sleepiness. That kind of just makes it worse.

He watches Jane and Max bring out the dishes one by one, and whenever he asks if he can help he gets dismissed. Outside Lucas seems to have gotten the grill working, finally. The table slowly gets filled up. Nancy finally leaves the kitchen, face flushed, and finds something else to take care of. Erica is moving the chairs and setting them down around the table.

In all of the chaos Mike is still exhausted. His eyelids feel heavy, and he keeps dozing off for a few seconds at a time. He blinks hard and sits up straighter to stay awake. The lost hours of sleep are catching up to him, and fast. He really thought he could just power through it for today.

He can't fight it forever, though. The couch feels incredibly comfortable, like never before. The worn down foam reshapes itself around his body in the best way and feels like a soft, warm hug. His arms are crossed on his chest. He tips his head back, and it's only a matter of seconds before his eyelids fall closed and he dozes off completely.

After what feels like a second, he feels a firm hand on his shoulder, shaking him. He jumps awake.

"Mike," Nancy says gently, with a smile.

"Huh?" Mike blinks hard a few times. The chaos around him has died down, house suddenly a lot more quiet and empty.

"They're here."

Mike springs back up to his feet so fast his vision goes black for a second. He darts towards the door, and sees it. Jonathan's car parked, Jonathan himself hugging his mom tight, swaying from side to side. To the left is Will, radiating and hugging his friends with a bright smile. Mike's knees buckle. Like on autopilot, he practically runs down the front porch to the car.

"Will!" slips past his lips before he can catch it. It sounds desperate, relieved.

Will barely has time to react before Mike wraps himself around him, nearly knocking all the air out of his lungs. Mike's arms immediately land on his waist and lock together tightly, refusing to let go. His face finds its way into the crook of Will's neck.

"Mike," Will breathes out, and wraps his arms around Mike's shoulders.

Mike squeezes him tight, no matter how many people are around them and all looking right at them. He breathes in deep. Will smells different, like different cities, different foods, but still so familiar and comforting. Mike's entire body feels electrified, all the sleepiness completely gone.

He can't resist the urge to lift Will off the ground. He bends backwards until Will's feet are in the air. He gasps, clinging harder to Mike's shoulders. Mike would twirl them both around if he could, like in some corny romance where the couple gets reunited after a long time, but his knees buckle and tremble.

He manages to hold Will up for no more than three seconds, and puts him back down. It's either that, or they both fall flat on the ground and break their necks. Yeah, Mike definitely should hit the gym with Lucas. Just these few seconds of having Will completely in his arms made him feel euphoric.

They separate just enough to see each other's faces, and they're both blushing and grinning like dorks. Mike's hands linger on Will's waist a little longer than necessary, but he really doesn't care. Not when Will is finally in front of him, in the flesh, looking so fresh and alive and warm.

He has a new shirt on, one that's a little tighter than what he's been wearing lately. It's a bit shorter as well. Mike's intense hug made it ride up a bit, revealing a line of Will's tan stomach. He pulls it down, flustered. He's wearing that same necklace from the party, his hair is a bit messier than usual, but other than that, it's still the same Will.

"Hey," Mike finally says after just staring at Will for way longer than acceptable, starstruck.

"Hey," Will whispers back, bouncing on his feet a little. He can't stop smiling, in turn making Mike smile, too.

"Hey, Mike," Jonathan pulls Mike into a hug.

Mike is surprised for a second, too lost in admiring the boy in front of him, but he quickly hugs back. Jonathan rubs his back a little, then pulls away and just looks at him for a few more seconds with a smile. Out of the corner of his eye Mike can see Will looking at both of them, also smiling. The sun reflects from his pretty green eyes like glitter and Mike wants to die in them.

Jonathan opens the trunk and starts pulling out their luggage. Will reaches out to grab his suitcase, but Mike gets there first. His shoulders slump from the weight, and Lucas goes to help.

"I got it! I got it," Mike yells out, tugging the suitcase closer and dragging it inside with trembling knees.

Will follows close behind. They go to his room. Mike is cursing under his breath the whole way there. He puts the suitcase down, hears the door close behind him, and as soon as he stands up and turns around, Will cups his cheeks and kisses him.

Their teeth crash together at first, then it's all lips moving against each other and faint startled breaths. Mike instinctively grabs Will's waist, both not to fall over and just because he loves to do that. Will kisses him intensely, like he's been starving for it. He keeps pushing closer and closer, until their bodies are pressed together completely. They both laugh into the kiss.

Mike isn't much better. He tilts his head, moves his mouth to match Will's greedy rhythm. He's just as desperate for it. He's already forgotten about how shitty this past week was, all of his worries and problems. All that matters is this. The two of them, finally together.

Despite there being not even a molecule of space between them, they keep pulling closer, pushing each other backwards. Mike grips Will's waist tighter, and turns them around. Will's lower back hits his desk with a loud thud, and they both stop, separating their lips with a pop.

They just listen to any sounds outside the door. After about five seconds, nothing comes, and they breathe out in relief. Will giggles, face flushed and lips glistening from the kiss. Mike pulls him into another hug, just as desperate as the one before. Will wraps his arms around his neck.

"God, I missed you," Mike whispers into Will's hair. He almost sounds like he's about to cry.

"Me, too," Will pulls back enough to cup Mike's face again.

His thumbs trace the slopes of Mike's cheekbones, gentle and loving. His eyes glide around Mike's features, studying and memorizing them, like it's the first time. Mike's face glows crimson red from all the intense attention.

"I, uh.. I got a present for you," Mike says sheepishly, nodding towards the box behind Will.

"Really?" Will's eyes widen and he turns to look at it.

He gasps, looks at it for a few seconds, then turns back to Mike. He's smiling wide. His cheeks have a rosy glow that spreads up to the tips of his ears, and his eyes are glistening, tears welling up in the corners. Mike's thumbs rub circles on his waist absentmindedly.

"I got you something, too," Will says quietly.

"You did?" Mike's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

"Yeah. Though, it will have to wait."

"What do you mean?" Mike processed about half of that. Will can tell.

"Basically," Will rolls his eyes playfully. "I got you something at a thrift store. Jonathan and I will fix it up first, then I can give it to you."

"Oh," Mike stretches. He nods.

"Yeah," Will chuckles, unable to contain his happiness. "I wasn't gonna tell you right away, but since you got me something.."

"You'll love it," Mike says proudly with a dopey smile on his face.

"I hope so," Will says sarcastically.

"Can I know what my present is?" Mike asks, tilting his head.

"No," Will answers without skipping a beat.

"Okay," Mike immediately folds, dropping his head on Will's shoulder. Will chuckles, and one of his palms slides up to the back of Mike's neck, rubbing the pale skin and fingertips snaking their way up into the dark curls.

"We should probably go back."

"Just a little longer. They can wait," Mike mumbles into the fabric of Will's shirt. He tucks his face in more.

"I wasn't expecting this many people," Will whispers and chuckles.

"Me neither," Mike chuckles back. He keeps leaning in closer without realizing, and props himself up against the desk with one hand, just behind Will's back.

"I mean, it's only been a week, not a year," Will jokes, and they both start giggling again.

The noise outside the room intensifies. The wheels on Jonathan's suitcase rattle against the floorboards, the voices get louder and steps get closer. Everyone is slowly entering the house. Will pokes Mike in the shoulder a few times, but Mike doesn't budge. Then Will pinches him in the ribs. Mike squirms, but doesn't let go.

"Come on, Mike," Will says, a little more firmly.

"Fine," Mike groans, giving Will's waist one last squeeze before letting go. His palms feel like they're burning.

He takes one step away from Will, then his face gets cupped again. Will gives him another quick peck to the lips, though it lands more in the corner. Mike smiles, and leans down to kiss Will's nose. They would keep going like this if they could, just holding each other and kissing 'one last time', but get interrupted by loud knocks on the door. Mike rolls his eyes with a deep sigh.

"We're coming!" he screeches, reluctantly separating from Will. He opens the door and sees Max, with her arms crossed on her chest.

"That fast?" she jokes, with a smug smile on her face.

Mike gives her the nastiest glare he can manage, and mutters something under his breath. He can tell she's really proud of that one. There's still some setting up to be done. Jonathan and Lucas are carrying the kitchen table through the back door, carefully maneuvering the legs around the doorframe. Hopper already got some meat going on the grill, smoking up the entire street.

Erica is counting up the utensils, constantly getting interrupted, making her start over. Nancy has her hands full of plates of food, she gives Mike a death glare, urging him to help out. He does just that. Will joins in, too, grabbing cups for everyone.

After no more than ten minutes, it's finally done. The backyard is full and lively. Hopper is grilling the meat, actually looking pretty happy for the first time today. The two tables were just enough. One smaller, metal one, and a much bigger wooden one. Dustin found a tablecloth to drape over them. It kind of connects them into one, but there's obvious creasing where the difference in size and height is very clear. Everyone is sitting on a variety of stools and chairs. Whatever they could find in the house.

Mike wanted to sit next to Will, obviously. But while he was busy, Jonathan and Lucas took his desired spots on either side of Will. That's fine. Mike just sits across from him instead. Not ideal, but at least he has a clear view of him. They keep stealing glances from each other across the table, biting down their smirks.

Everyone keeps asking the Byers brothers questions. About New York, what cool places they have seen, what new foods they have tried. Will lights up, rambling on about all of it. Mike practically zones out, just staring at him. Max has to bump him in the ribs to bring him back to Earth.

The tables are filled with food. Salads, snacks, appetizers, desserts, a big pie in the middle. There's barely any space for everyone's personal plates. Joyce really went all out on this. She doesn't even cook this much for New Years, or Thanksgiving. The meat on the grill is filling the entire backyard with such a delicious smell it makes everyone salivate.

Mike takes his time eating, mostly pushing the food around his plate. Too busy looking at Will. His skin is still burning to touch him, at least a little. Just a brush of contact, anything. He slowly and carefully moves his foot forward under the table.

He nudges Will once, sees no reaction. He does it again. Still no reaction. Damn. Will has gotten good at hiding his reactions. Mike keeps his foot there, lightly nudging him from time to time. It's weird that there's absolutely no reaction, though. Not even a blush. Will might be better at controlling his face compared to Mike, but that rosy tint always gives him away.

Still, Mike doesn't think much of it. Those little touches are enough to keep his head clear and actually focus on what's going on around him. Hopper is finally done with the first portion of the meat, setting it on the table. It's juicy and delicious looking, straight out of a commercial. The plate quickly gets emptied.

Some more time passes. Everyone is eating and talking. It's comfortable, peaceful. At one point Joyce set a radio on one of the windowsills, putting on some light music. Lucas and Erica fight over the last piece of meat. Jane and Dustin are joking with each other, nearly cackling at times. Mike keeps nudging Will. Still no reaction. Mike pouts, nudging harder. Then Jonathan jumps up in his seat.

"Who keeps kicking me?" he says, frustrated.

Oh shit.

Mike could pretend it's not him, act natural. Of course, instead of doing that, he pulls his leg back so fast he shakes the entire table, dishes rattling and all. His face turns firetruck red. He looks like steam is about to shoot out of his ears. Jonathan immediately looks at him.

"Uh- Uh- S- Sorry. I got a- I got a cramp. A leg cramp. Sorry," Mike is a stuttering mess. He does not sound convincing whatsoever.

"It's fine," Jonathan says after a pause. He goes back to eating.

Mike wants to slam his head on the table and die. He presses his knees together, palms digging into his thighs, and looks down, trying to hide his red face. Next to him Max snorts. He kicks her ankle under the table.

Then he feels a nudge at his foot. He looks up and locks eyes with Will, who's biting down a smile with that familiar rosy glow on his cheeks. Mike nudges him back. That was embarrassing.

Eventually the chaos quiets down. Nancy and Jonathan moved their chairs closer to the shed, talking with some beer in their hands. Hopper and Joyce are circling around the grill, lazily dancing to the music on the radio. The Party moved to the living room, spreading around the couch. Will dug up some ice cream from the freezer, and everyone grabbed a portion.

Max, Jane and Dustin took the couch. Lucas is sitting on the floor in front of Max, leaning back. Will took the side chair, and Mike sat in front of him on the floor. The two are sitting in a familiar position, Will's ankle pressed to Mike's thigh, out of sight.

"So," Lucas starts, getting everyone's attention. He turns to Will. "We wanna go on a camping trip. Are you in?"

"Yeah, definitely," Will nods rapidly, already excited.

"Good, 'cause Mike was so pissy about it," Dustin adds, rolling his eyes.

"I wasn't- Whatever," Mike tries to protest, but gives up. He puts a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth to shut himself up.

"Anyway, I was thinking we do it next week? So we could, you know, prepare? Make sure we have all the gear," Lucas continues, gesturing around.

"Gear?" Will furrows his eyebrows.

"We wanna stay the night, in tents," Max explains.

"Yeah!" Lucas adds. "Like, we stay the night, then come back home in the morning, or during the day. It depends on how we feel."

"That sounds.. fun," Will nods weakly. "Where would we go, though?"

"Lucas and I already got it all planned out," Dustin throws his hands in the air and starts bouncing on the couch a little from how excited he is. "There's this lake, about three hours away from here. It's a pretty beach, there are spots specifically made for camping, camping fires and all. On the way there's a bunch of diners and cool spots we could stop at."

"Yeah," Lucas approves, pointer finger in the air. "We could start a fire, sit around it, tell stories or play games. The lake is close by, we could go for a swim. It's gonna be awesome."

Lucas is saying all of it like he's telling a bedtime story. He closes his eyes, already imagining all the things he listed. Mike looks up at Will, who's nervously chewing on his bottom lip, deep in thought.

"We already got the map and everything. But it's at Lucas's house," Dustin adds.

"So, what do you think?" Max asks Will. He doesn't answer right away, a little taken aback.

"Uh.. Yeah, that sounds great. But we're probably gonna need a lot of gear, right?" Will answers, nervously scratching his neck.

"We have a tent, flashlights, a lot of dad's old hunting gear, sleeping bags. But I couldn't find yours," Jane says and shrugs.

"It's at my house," Mike says a little too fast.

Everyone pauses and just looks at him for a bit. Jane and Max exchange a glance.

"Of course it is," Dustin mutters. Everyone holds back a laugh.

Mike opens his mouth in protest and looks to Will for support. Unfortunately for him, Will is also holding back a laugh, palm pressed to his mouth in a way that almost looks natural. Mike shuts his mouth and swallows whatever he was about to say.

"I also wanna get meat, cook it over the fire," Lucas continues, still sounding all dreamy. Max, Jane and Dustin join, blissfully humming just imagining it.

"Are we getting booze?" Dustin leans down and whispers. Or tries to, at least.

"Maybe," Max shrugs.

"I could ask Steve again-"

"No!" everyone says at the same time. Dustin shuts up.

"If he gives us that cheap shit again, I'm gonna kill myself," Lucas scrunches his face in disgust. That cursed beer will haunt him in his nightmares.

"Why do you care? You're not drinking," Max nudges him and leans over to glare at him.

"Yeah, you're the driver," Mike speaks up, eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay, but what if I have, like, a little bit right when we arrive, then it will be out of my system when we leave," Lucas tries to argue, turning around to face Max, hands in the air.

"Drinking and driving? Oh, dad is not gonna like that," Erica ominously emerges from the kitchen with a bowl of ice cream in hand. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head slowly.

"Erica," Lucas's head snaps towards her. His eyes are wide. "I'm not drinking and driving."

"That's not what I heard," Erica shrugs, swirling her ice cream around. Lucas lets out a heavy sigh.

"Okay, what if I.. I don't know- What if I drive you around for a week?"

"Two weeks," she says without skipping a beat.

"Two? Erica, no-"

"I can make it three," she looks at him, eyebrows raised. She knows she's got him.

"Erica," Lucas deepens his voice, trying to sound firm. It doesn't really work.

"So, it's either you're gonna be driving drunk, or one of you," Erica gestures to the rest of the Party. "Is gonna drive without a license. Either way, illegal."

Lucas cups his hands over his mouth, shuts his eyes tight and takes a deep breath. He collects his thoughts, and tries to keep his voice calm, despite his face clearly communicating the opposite.

"Okay," he nods eventually. "Two weeks."

"Deal," Erica nods and goes outside, unbothered.

Lucas lets out a sigh that nearly turns into a growl.

"You're still not drinking," Max says plainly.

"Oh, come on," Lucas whines, draping himself over Max's legs.

___

It's around noon at this point, and everyone is a bit tired. Nancy and Joyce are already wrapping everything up slowly. Will is washing the dishes little by little. Mike puts all the chairs back in place. Hopper and Jonathan take the kitchen table back inside, scratching the doorframe a bit in the process. Lucas, Max and Erica already left, since they arrived much earlier than the Wheelers and Dustin. Only fair. Jane picks up all the trash left in the backyard.

Afterwards Jane and Dustin leave to hang out, and everyone else retreats to their rooms, tired. Nancy wipes her hands on a towel and lets out a long exhausted sigh.

"That was.. a lot," she says, hands on her hips.

"Yeah," Mike plops on the couch, also exhausted. He rubs his sore neck with a groan.

"You coming?" Nancy stops at the front door, car keys in hand.

"Uh.. Is it okay if I stay here for a bit? You know, catch up with Will and.. stuff," Mike mumbles. He tries to keep his tone casual, but the blush on his cheeks betrays him.

"Yeah, sure. See you later," Nancy doesn't push and goes to her car.

Mike breathes out in relief and sinks back into the couch. The house is empty and silent, except for Hopper's muffled snoring. The air still smells like food, though it's very faint. Mike quickly stretches his shoulders, stands up and walks over to Will's room. He doesn't knock, as that's not something they do. Or, rather, he doesn't do.

When he opens the door, he sees Will, in the middle of changing his shirt. He's already changed out of jeans into more comfortable shorts. Mike saw a glimpse of his bare back for half a second, then quickly turned around.

"S-Sorry," he stutters, eyes completely focused on the door.

"Oh, you're not going home?" Will says, completely unfazed.

"Nah, I thought I could.. hang back, you know? If that's okay," Mike mumbles, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Of course it's okay," Will chuckles. "You can turn around now."

Mike does just that. They lock eyes, and like clockwork, giddy grins spread on their faces. They both aren't sure what to do and how to act, but buzzing with excitement.

"Is that a new shirt?" Will breaks the silence.

"No, no. I just.. found it. You like it?" Mike smirks and wiggles his brows. He tries to be flirty, but it turns out more corny than anything. It seems to work on Will, though.

"Yeah, I really do," Will says softly. God, Mike missed that tone.

"I liked your shirt, too," Mike says, stretching his words. He walks over to Will's bed and sits on the edge of it, mattress creaking.

"Thanks," Will rolls his eyes playfully. His cheeks gain a darker red tint. "It's a little small, though. Jonathan messed up with the size."

"It looked good- Great. You have a.. a nice.. body," Mike cringes at himself. He can feel his face getting hotter and hotter by the second. This is so awkward.

"Thank you," once again, it seems to work on Will. He leans back on his desk, shifting on his feet. "I'm not wearing it here, though."

"Bummer," Mike tilts his head and frowns.

"I'm serious. Not in Hawkins," Will tilts his head to look at Mike.

"Fucking Hawkins," Mike groans, earning a giggle from the other boy.

They pause, just looking at each other, admiring, soaking this in. Will's eyes glide over Mike from head to toe, memorizing every detail. His messy hair, slightly tanned skin, the collarbones peeking out from under his shirt, the way Mike rolled up the sleeves, contrasting against his arms. All of it. Mike almost squirms under such an intense stare.

Will sits next to him, pressing their thighs and knees together. Mike traps his bottom lip between his teeth out of habit, anticipating.

"Can I ask you something?" Will whispers, leaning a little closer.

"Anything," Mike breathes out before he can catch it. Will's breath hitches for a second and he huffs out a laugh.

"Okay," he nods, eyes round. Then he gets more serious. "Have you.. told anyone, while I was gone?"

"Told what?" Mike blinks a few times, mouth hanging open. Dumbass.

"Mike," Will rolls his eyes, then gestures between the two of them.

"Oh," it finally clicks in Mike's brain. He looks up at the ceiling. "Yeah, yeah. I told Max."

"Max?" Will leans back, face scrunched from confusion.

"What? She's cool with it."

"Yeah, I know that. I just.. I guess I thought you'd tell Lucas, or Dustin, or Nancy before you even think of telling Max," Will ponders, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Why is that?"

"I don't know," Will shrugs. "You guys kinda hate each other."

"No, we don't!" Mike protests, turning his body to face Will properly. "It's just.. mutual friendly teasing."

"Okay," Will says flatly with a nod. "And how did that happen?"

"I.. Well- Okay," Mike clears his throat. "I kinda got a job while you were gone? And Max happened to be there, too."

"You worked at the movie theater with her?"

"How did you-"

"She told me she applied there. Wait," Will's face gets serious, and now he turns to face Mike, too. He narrows his eyes. "When did you get the job?"

"Like.. A few days before you left?" Mike nervously scratches his neck.

"You didn't tell me that," Will tilts his head slightly.

"And I'm sorry about that," Mike clarifies, bringing his palms up in the air. Then he points to the gift, still on Will's desk. "I wanted to surprise you with this."

"Mike," Will breathes out, glancing over at the box, then back at Mike.

"I think now is a great time to open it," Mike nods towards the desk, encouraging.

Will lets out another sigh, trying to look annoyed, but failing. He reaches out and gently grabs the box, setting it on his lap. He doesn't rip it apart right away. Instead he looks at it first, admiring the paper and the pretty bow. Mike expected to be praised for how well the present is wrapped, but that doesn't come. Of course Will knows it's not Mike's doing.

Then Will pulls the letter from under the ribbon, tracing the edges of the envelope with his fingers. As he's about to rip it open, Mike grabs his wrist.

"Uh.. I think it's better if you leave it for last," Mike mumbles, already feeling nervous. Will looks at him, then nods, putting the letter to the side.

He moves on to the box. Most people would just rip the paper apart to get to the inside as quickly as possible, but Will isn't most people. Instead, he carefully undoes the tape, then unfolds the paper fold after fold. His moves are gentle and delicate, making sure not to damage the paper. Mike can't help but smile at that.

Then Will carefully slides the box out of the paper, and his entire face lights up. His eyebrows shoot up, eyes widen, mouth opens. It's even better than Mike imagined.

"Mike," Will whispers, tracing his fingers along the edges of the box. He looks up at Mike, then back down, then up again. "Mike, this brand is expensive."

Mike can only shrug, trying to keep himself from saying something stupid or corny that will keep him up on a random night. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and he feels like folding over on himself from how flustered he feels.

Will takes the brushes out, one by one, gently touches the bristles. His mouth is slightly open, bunny teeth poking out. Mike wants to kiss him so bad, but holds back. He has to physically bite his lips down.

"Are they.. like, good quality?" Mike asks sheepishly. His hands are connected on his thigh, one thumb picking at the other.

"Yeah," Will nods enthusiastically. He reaches over to his older brushes, sitting in a cup on his desk. He pulls one out, and brings it to Mike. "Just compare."

Mike touches the bristles of the old brush. It tickles, but they feel rough. Some of them are sticking out in different directions. There's built up dry paint in between the hairs. Will tries to keep his brushes clean, but if you use them for years and years, it's kind of inevitable. This brush is clearly cheap and used, even in Mike's inexperienced eyes.

Then he touches one of the new brushes. The difference is immediately very clear. First of all, even just visually it looks much better. The handle is comfortable, and the bristles are a nice color, instead of a dusty brown. The bristles themselves also feel completely different. They're soft, but flexible. No matter how much Mike pushes them around with his thumb, they bounce back into their previous position, good as new.

Meanwhile Will is looking at each brush instently, tracing them with his fingers, then putting them back in the box. Mike gives him a questioning look.

"I'm scared to mess them up," Will says sheepishly, wrinkling his nose.

"But that's the point," Mike argues, giving both brushes back.

"I guess," Will shrugs.

He gently puts the box back on the desk, then leans closer to Mike with a grin. Mike instinctively leans in, too. Will brings his hand up to the side of Mike's neck, and starts rubbing circles into the milky skin with his thumb. Mike leans into the touch.

"Thank you, Mike. I love them," Will whispers, smiling wide. Their faces are so close that the words imprint themselves on Mike's lips.

"Good," Mike breathes out, the best he could come up with. He huffs out a laugh, and his eyes drop down to Will's lips for a second.

He doesn't notice how his hands find their place on Will's thighs, just pressing, trying to find an anchor. They stay like that for a bit, swallowing each other's air, eyes bouncing down to each other's lips and back. Then Will leans in closer, and lightly brushes his lips over Mike's. He hesitates for a second, waiting for Mike to respond. He does just that.

Mike's hand slides up to the back of Will's neck, gently pushing him closer. Their lips connect in a gentle, light kiss. Mike's fingertips go higher, into the short brown hair. Will's moves to Mike's cheek. The kiss is warm and fuzzy, it makes Mike smile wide. Will is basically kissing his teeth at this point. Mike giggles at that, unable to stop himself.

"Stop laughing," Will mumbles against Mike's cheek.

"I can't," Mike giggles more, catching Will's lips again.

Now Will is laughing, too. The giggles just bubble out of them, to the point they can't even kiss anymore. They pull apart, foreheads still pressed together. God, they missed this feeling.

"I love you," Mike murmurs, then falls back on the bed with a loud dramatic sigh, very flustered. He covers his face with his palms and giggles some more.

Will doesn't have time to respond, as his door opens. Mike jumps up, nearly falling off the bed. He throws his head back against the mattress, getting an upside down view of dishevelled Jonathan standing in the doorway. He looks at the two boys, analyzing, but also tired.

"Will, have you showered yet?" Jon mumbles, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"Go ahead," Will waves his hand at him.

"Okay," Jonathan says quietly, barely above a whisper, and leaves.

The door closes, and Mike lets out a breath that has been stuck in his throat. His face is bright red, and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. Will seems unaffected. Mike gives him a questioning look.

"Oh," Will gasps, eyebrows shooting up in the air. He leans closer to Mike's face, and his voice goes quiet. "He knows."

"What?!" Mike sits up so fast his forehead almost crashes into Will's. He looks at Will with wide eyes, making sure Will means what he thinks he means.

"Yeah, he knows about us," Will nods.

"How? Did you tell him?" Mike sounds a little more accusatory than he meant to.

"N- No, I didn't," Will throws his hands up. Then his face shifts into a guilty expression, nose scrunched, brows furrowed and all. "He kinda.. saw us."

"When? Where? I- We were careful," Mike stutters, panic settling in his chest.

"You remember when I got splashed, and we went back so I could change?" Will explains and waits for Mike to connect the dots. When Mike shuts his eyes with a sigh, Will nods. "Yeah."

"Goddamnit," Mike covers his face with his hands again, groaning into his palms.

"Yeah, he came home early, saw the lights were on and just.. waited in the car to see what's going on," Will presses his lips into a tight line, rocking back and forth slightly.

He puts his hand on Mike's shoulder, rubbing, supporting him through this little crisis. He can barely hold back his laugh. Mike is always so dramatic in his reactions. Then Mike pauses, and his head snaps back up to Will. His eyes are open as wide as possible, his eyebrows are almost up at his hairline, and his jaw is hanging open. He looks absolutely mortified.

"Mike?" Will whispers, genuinely worried.

"Will, I- Earlier at the table, I- And then he- And I- I didn't- Fuck," Mike is a stuttering mess. His hands dart around in useless gestures, and he's staring somewhere into space.

Will gives him a confused look. Then Mike closes his eyes and falls back on the mattress, now burying his face into the blanket. He clutches the fabric hard, turns on his side, still covering his face.

"I'm gonna kill myself. I have to. There's no other way. I gotta kill myself," Mike whines and groans. It gets swallowed by the thick fabric. He's wiggling around, shaking the entire mattress.

"Okay, let's not do that," Will says and pats Mike's back. He bites down his smile.

"I have to, Will," Mike pulls the blanket away from his face. His cheeks are completely flushed. "Jonathan's gonna kill me. He already hates me."

"No, he doesn't?" Will replies, genuinely confused. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side.

"What?"

"Why would he hate you?" Will asks gently. Before Mike can reply, he keeps going, absentmindedly rubbing soothing lines along Mike's ribcage. "He was actually really happy for us. Um.. He even.. God, he even tried to give me the sex talk, but I just-"

Mike interrupts him with a snort. Will snorts back, and they both fall into another fit of laughter. Will falls forward, draping himself over Mike's torso. Their shoulders shake from the giggles, and it takes them a solid minute to calm down. It's just like when they were kids, dying laughing at a joke Lucas made, or at how fired up Dustin got about physics.

Eventually Will sits back up, wiping actual tears from his eyes. Mike lets out a long sigh, finally calming down, and turns over on his back. His dark curls fall around his head like a halo, and his Adam's apple bops as he swallows the leftover giggles. Will watches him for some time, with a warm smile on his face. Then he remembers the letter. The light blue envelope is still laying near his pillow.

"Can I read it now?" he asks quietly. Mike sits up, clearing his throat.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. If you want to," Mike scratches his neck nervously. Will narrows his eyes at him.

"Do you want me to read it?"

"Yeah. I do," Mike nods rapidly. "It's just.. It's kind of a lot."

Will hums, and thinks it over for a second. He carefully opens the envelope, and pulls the letter out. It's a little crumpled up. He slowly unfolds it, and his breath hitches immediately.

'Dear Will,

This might be my last letter to you, I'm not sure yet. Though, I guess it doesn't really matter. I won't send it either way. Maybe someday I will feel brave enough to at least tell you about them.

I'm going to see you in a few days, in the flesh. I'm so excited about it, but also very scared at the same time. I've been writing all these letters to you as if you are here, to make myself feel better. Sometimes I forget that's not reality. That I'll just end up shoving this letter under my bed, away from everyone, including myself. Just like the rest of the letters.

I wish I had the courage, I wish I was brave enough for you. I wish I wouldn't just crumble and run away when things get hard. I'm sorry for hurting you. You didn't deserve that.

Without you here, I feel hollow, empty. Like a part of my soul was ripped away from me. I miss you so much. I wish I didn't have to write these letters in the first place. I miss talking to you, even though I know I can be such a jerk. I don't know how you put up with me, truly.

I wonder what you look like now, how you decorated your room. Sometimes I go back to your old house. God, it feels so weird calling it that. But sometimes I go there and just sit in your room. It's empty now and full of dust, but I can oddly still feel your presence there.

I think of all our sleepovers, the good and the bad memories. I wish there weren't so many bad ones. I can only imagine how it is for you. I'd understand if you never came back to Hawkins, though I'd be lying if I said it doesn't hurt. My life isn't the same without you, Will.

I want to see you and hold you and never let go. When I think of you I feel like my heart is about to burst out of my chest. I want you to just be here, with me, and never leave.

I try not to think that way. It feels wrong. I should want you to meet new people, find a lot of new friends that will make you happy in a new place. I should, but I don't.

Truth is, the thought of you having other friends scares me. Losing you as my best friend scares me. Terrifies me. I know it's wrong. And I know it's wrong, because I only feel that way about you. I don't feel like that about Lucas's friends, or Dustin's. Even El's. If anything, I hope that she finds good friends. She deserves that.

I'm scared you're not gonna need me anymore. I know that I need you, Will. More than I need anyone else.

I'm sorry for everything. I wish I wasn't a coward.

Love, Mike.'

It takes Will a while to finish reading, the tears blurring his vision. He's sniffling and clutching the letter in his trembling hands. His bottom lip wobbles, and he bites it down. Some of the words are crossed over, unreadable. Will can feel all the emotion put into this piece of paper, into every stroke of a pen.

Mike watches him, fighting back his own tears. He's pressing one of his knees to his chest, hides his face in it, wipes his tears on it. He's chewing on the inside of his cheek like never before, and he can't sit still.

The air feels too thick to breathe in, filled with nerves and emotions. It's quiet. All that can be heard are sounds of the outside, Jonathan's faint steps in the living room, and the shaky breaths of the two boys.

Will is done reading, but he can't bring himself to look away from the letter, eyes tracing every word, the particular way Mike curves his lines. He's memorized it from reading Jane's letters, whenever she would show them to him. It made him feel awful every time, because the letters were not for him. Then he felt awful for feeling that way.

Sometimes he would pretend that the letters were for him, read them as if Mike was talking directly to him. Dreamed that maybe the 'Love, Mike' could be for him one day. Then it changed to 'From, Mike', and Jane stopped showing him the letters.

Will finally looks up at Mike, who looks absolutely wrecked. His face is red and blotchy, with hot wet tracks running down his cheeks. His eyes are full of uncertainty, panic and adoration. Will nearly breaks down just from the sight. He puts the letter on the desk, and pulls Mike into a tight hug.

Mike melts into the touch. He wraps his arms around Will's frame, tucks his face into his shoulder. His breath hitches, but he manages to hold back the sobs threatening to escape his throat. Will gently pats the back of his head, fingers sinking into the black curls.

"I love you so much," he murmurs near Mike's ear.

"I love you, Will. So much. I- I'm sorry. I was such a dick," Mike chokes up on his tears.

Will pulls back just enough to look at him. They're both desperately trying to fight back tears, with a few still slipping down their cheeks. Will gently cups Mike's face and presses their foreheads together. Mike is panting, trying to catch his breath.

Then Will leans down and gently connects their lips. It's more breathing than actual kissing, their tears are mixing together, they're all snotty and sappy. It should feel gross, but it doesn't. It's quite the opposite, actually. They're desperately clinging to each other. Shirts get bunched up and pulled on. Legs can't settle and find a comfortable position.

They put all their emotions into this kiss, all the sadness for their past selves. If only things were different. If only their lives were easier than what they got. If only they talked to each other, spared themselves all the hurt and confusion. But that's in the past. What matters is the present. They're both here, open and honest, not afraid to face their feelings anymore.

Mike hiccups from the tears, making them separate. Will lets out a wet chuckle. Can't help it. Mike, embarrassed, drops his head on Will's shoulder.

"I didn't know you kept it," Will whispers, voice a little rough. He tilts his head to press his cheek into Mike's hair.

"I kept all of them. Every single one," Mike says, muffled against Will's shirt.

"Really?" Will widens his eyes. "Can I.. see them someday?"

"Maybe," Mike shrugs weakly, face still hidden. He can feel Will nodding against his hair.

They pause for a bit, holding onto each other, breathing each other in. Their breathing slowly goes back to normal, though Mike is still sniffling from time to time. Will sighs loudly.

"I need a shower," he says, lightly pushing Mike's shoulder. Mike only whines into the fabric of Will's shirt and wraps his arms around his waist. "I mean it, Mike. I've been on the road for, like, an entire day. Let me go."

He bumps Mike's shoulder again. Another whine, and Mike reluctantly listens. He's pouting at Will, face swollen and blotchy. He almost looks like his younger self, before his face gained its sharp corners. Will fights the urge to kiss him and gets off the bed. Mike immediately lays down, head on the pillow and limbs draping all over the mattress.

"You don't have to stay," Will says, looking down at the other boy.

"I want to," Mike replied without skipping a beat. Will huffs out a laugh.

"Okay, but.. I don't really wanna go anywhere today. I'm tired."

"That's okay," Mike reassures, voice soft and light. "We can just.. hang out here."

"I was gonna work on Dustin's painting. That's probably gonna be boring for you," Will awkwardly shifts on his feet.

"I'm never bored when I'm with you," Mike blurts out, and Will can physically see the blush creeping up his pale neck. Mike clears his throat. "I'll just.. watch you paint. Or if that, like, disrupts the creative process or whatever, I could just read one of your books."

"Okay," Will breathes out, grinning. "Then, I'll be quick."

"I will be waiting here for you, Will the Wise," Mike puts on a medieval accent. Will scoffs in response, rolling his eyes.

"Nevermind. You better be out of here when I come back," Will tries to sound annoyed, but he's giggling every other word, and his cheeks have that rosy glow that Mike loves so much.

Before Mike can embarrass himself further, Will leaves the room. It's quiet again. Mike relaxes, practically melting into Will's bed. He's laid in it countless times before, but right now it feels impossibly comfortable. Helps that it smells like Will, too. Mike's eyelids suddenly feel heavy, and he yawns. It doesn't take long for him to doze off to sleep once again.

___

He wakes up when he feels the mattress shifting beneath him. He slowly opens his eyes, eyelids still burning. A little whine escapes him as he's lifting himself off the pillow.

"Oh, sorry. I woke you up," Will says quietly with a guilty expression.

It takes Mike a second to assess the situation. He fell asleep in Will's bed. Will has already showered, smelling like the cherry shampoo and pine body wash Joyce always buys. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, close to Mike's ribcage. His easel is standing in front of him and he's in the middle of painting. Mike notes that usually Will paints in the opposite corner of the room, where the sun hits the best, but he moved to the bed for this.

There is music quietly playing, Will is softly humming along to it. His hands are stained with paint already. And, to Mike's delight, he's using his new brushes.

"How long was I out?" Mike asks mid stretching. His voice is rough and groggy.

"Like, an hour and a half?" Will sways his head from side to side, counting in his head. Then he turns around to look at Mike. His eyebrows are curved in worry. "Were you up all night?"

"No, of course not. I slept for, like, two hours at least," Mike shrugs.

"Mike," Will says flatly and his face drops. He just looks at Mike. His stare is both annoyed and worried.

"I was just excited to see you. Couldn't sleep," Mike says sheepishly and tries to give Will the puppy eyes. He's still half asleep so he just looks high. It still gets a chuckle out of Will, though.

"If you say so," Will mumbles, focusing back on the painting.

Mike slowly lifts himself up on his elbows. His entire body feels like it's made of cement, heavy and impossible to move. He lifts just enough to peek at the painting. Last time he saw it, it was just a faint sketch. Will has made a lot of progress since then. Mike can make out trees, clouds in the sky, a flowery field and two familiar looking curly haired figures from the back.

It's still mostly just blobs of color, except for the two figures. Will is focused on them right now, adding tiny little details with one of the smaller brushes from the set. His moves are delicate, but determined. He knows exactly where he wants to put the paint, and does so with precision. Mike watches him for some time, or specifically his hands, the way his fingers curl around the brush. Sometimes he sticks them out to the side, to get a better angle. Will notices the staring and smirks.

"These are great, Mike," he whispers, showing Mike the brush he's currently holding.

"Yeah?" Mike says, all giddy. He leans closer to press his cheek into Will's upper arm. "I did okay?"

"This might be the best gift I have ever gotten," Will replies, quiet and soft. So earnest. Mike huffs out a giggle and presses closer. Will scoots a little to accommodate.

"Good. You deserve it," Mike whispers into the fabric of Will's sleeve. Then he lifts his eyes at him, but Will is fully focused on the canvas. "Can I at least get a hint for my gift?"

"Mike, no," Will playfully rolls his eyes.

"Please? Just one?"

"No, it's a surprise."

"But I hate surprises," Mike whines. It's cringe, but he can't bring himself to care right now. His hand slowly snakes its way around Will's waist.

"Since when?"

"Since now. Please, Will. Just tell me."

"There's no point in telling you if you can't use it yet."

"Oh, so it's something I can use," Mike stretches, grinning.

"Shut up. I'm not saying anything else," Will rolls his eyes again and bites down on his bottom lip, to keep both his words and his giddy smile at bay.

Mike lets out a little groan and gives up. He's never gonna win this. He shifts his attention to the painting. It's a little blurry to him, and he has to squint to somewhat focus. He even leans in a little closer, and Will notices, slightly furrowing his eyebrows.

"What?" he asks, a little concerned.

"Huh?" Mike looks at Will, then shakes his head. "Nothing. It's nice. Really nice."

"You were squinting like an old man," Will jokes, then his voice turns back to genuinely concerned. "Are your eyes okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah," Mike breathes out, then dismissively waves his hand. "I'm just tired."

"Okay," Will isn't convinced, but he moves on.

"It does look very nice, though. I mean it," Mike moves on, too. He shifts a little, then points at the painting. "That's Dustin and Jane, right?"

"Yup," Will nods and pops his lips. He reaches over to the desk and picks up some paint on his brush, mixing up a light brown. He brings it back to the canvas, peppering tiny strokes on Jane's hair. "These brushes are amazing. I can do so many tiny details."

"Good," Mike nods, proud. Will pauses, then turns to Mike with a slightly guilty expression.

"Can I be honest for a second?" he says quietly.

"Please."

"I've actually been stalling on this. Like, really stalling," Will whispers, scrunching his nose. Mike chuckles at him. Then Will turns back to the canvas, adding similar delicate highlights to Dustin's hair. "I could never do this with my brushes. Just look how tiny that is!"

"Yeah," Mike nods, even though to him it just looks like a blurry blob.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about," Will says flatly.

"I mean.. Kinda," Mike says honestly and shrugs. He rubs his eyes, hoping to fix the blurriness. It's still blurry.

"I just- There are so many tiny details, and my brushes are all messed up and too thick. It would've looked like a mess, so I just kept putting it away, you know?" Will explains, face focused. He cleans the brush in a cup of water nearby, and picks up some yellow paint.

"Why did Dustin ask for such a detailed painting?" Mike grumbles, furrowing his brows.

"He didn't," Will breathes out, pausing for a second to see if he's satisfied with the added yellow highlights.

Mike chuckles and shakes his head. Of course Will is going all out to help Dustin, even if it's not asked of him. Surely, Dustin would be overjoyed even if it's just stick figures, but that's not how Will does things. He will gladly agree to help, then set the standard for himself so high it gets stressful. He's going to be worried throughout the entire process, but eventually pull through and exceed all expectations. On top of that, he will never ask for anything in return. Mike has always admired that. If he was asked for a favor like that, he would definitely hold it over the person's head later. Especially if it's Dustin.

The painting itself is quickly coming together. In the corner there are swatches of paint, in different colors and shapes. Probably Will figuring out what colors to use and testing out the brushes. For the most part the canvas is filled with vague blobs of paint, laying out the key components. What Mike assumes will become trees later, the field, the skies. So far the only clear part is Dustin and Jane.

Will's style has changed a lot. He's gotten much better at shading and highlighting, giving his work a realistic, but also unique look. Mike can tell who it's supposed to be, even without the faces being visible. And even with the background being blobs of color, just by the shading on the two Mike can already tell how the sun is going to shine down on them, how it's going to spill over the filed and bleed through the trees.

"You're amazing," Mike's thoughts spill out of his mouth, but he doesn't bother catching them or getting embarrassed. He's too mesmerized. Will bites down a smirk.

"Check this out," Will says smugly.

He grabs another brush, one that's kind of shaped like a fan, flat and wide. He dips it into some green paint, wipes some of it off, then brings it to the canvas. A few quick strokes from side to side, some smudging, barely touching the surface, and a tree appears. Mike looks at it, jaw hanging open, and lets out an amused 'huh'.

"That's a fucking tree," he says, tilting his head.

"Yup," Will grins wide, very proud.

"How the fuck did you do that? I thought you'd have to, like, paint each leaf by hand or something. That took, like, five seconds."

"There was this, like, open art class thing I went to, in New York. You just walk in, and watch the teacher paint. He showed this technique. Cool, right?" Will explains, very excited and proud.

"Yeah. Very cool," Mike nods, but his mood shifts subtly. So subtly that even Will doesn't catch it. Mike bites down on his bottom lip.

Fucking New York. He's been trying not to let the topic ruin his mood all day. So stupid. He brings his other arm around Will and gives his waist a possessive squeeze, making the other boy yelp and freeze. He looks at Mike with wide eyes, face bright red. Panic washes over Mike's face.

"S- Sorry. Was that too much? I'm doing too much. I'm sorry," Mike stutters and leans away.

"W- What?" Will blinks a few times, coming back to reality.

"Sorry, you just.. like, froze up. I need to calm down," Mike rubs his face and sighs.

"Oh, no. Mike, it's not.. I mean," Will tries to find the words. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. He sets the brush on the desk and turns to face Mike. "I just.. Sometimes I forget that we're.. you know.."

"In love?" Mike finishes for him. Will widens his eyes for a second and looks down at the floor, flustered.

"I was gonna say 'dating', but sure. That works, too," Will nods slowly, looking anywhere but at Mike. He takes another deep breath to calm down. "I kind of forget about it, then when I remember, I just.. I get really nervous, and panic a little bit. And my response to that is to freeze up, I guess. It's- It's weird. Sorry. I just need to get used to this, still."

"No, no," Mike reassures, shifting closer. Their knees are pressed together, sharing heat. Mike wishes he didn't wear jeans so he could feel Will's bare knee against his own. "I totally get that. I feel like that, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Except my reaction is to just," Mike scrunches his face and makes grabby hands at Will. Will giggles at that.

"Right. I noticed."

"Yeah," Mike sighs. The laughter dies down, and his face becomes more nervous. "I guess.. I guess we never really talked about, like, boundaries and stuff."

"I guess not," Will nods slowly.

"Is there anything you don't like?"

"Um," Will looks up at the ceiling. He purses his lips, deep in thought. He comes up with nothing and shakes his head. "Can't really think of anything. You?"

"Me neither," Mike answers without skipping a beat. "Maybe.. tell me if there's anything I do that you don't like?"

"Yeah. You, too."

"Yeah."

"Cool."

"Cool."

"What if.. we list things we.. like?" Will asks, cringing at himself.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Mike nods and sits up straighter. "You can go first."

"Are you- Okay," Will scoffs, looking more and more flustered by the second. He's picking at the dried paint around his thumb nail. "I like holding hands, and.. I like it when you hold my waist. Um.. I like kissing you, obviously. And.. God. I like when you.. call me pretty."

"You do?" Mike teases, with a stupid smug grin splitting his face.

"Shut up," Will rolls his eyes. His face is almost tomato red. "Your turn."

"That's it?"

"Your turn, Michael."

"Okay," Mike rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. Now he's the one feeling flustered to no end. "Holding hands, kissing. Duh. I also like when you.. hold my face. That's.. nice."

"I like that, too."

"Holding my face, or when I hold your face?"

"Both," Will nods confidently.

"Okay. Good to know," Mike says awkwardly, making Will scoff.

"Anything else?"

"I don't know," Mike shrugs sheepishly. "I guess we haven't really done much else so far."

"Yeah," Will stretches his lips into a line. Then a mischievous grin spreads on his face. "I also like when our feet touch under the table. Just, you know, without Jonathan involved."

"Oh, shut up. I just forgot about that," Mike whines, falling back onto the pillow. He presses his palms into his eyes so hard he starts seeing shapes. He hopes the pressure could push out the embarrassing memory. Will finds the sight hilarious.

"Hey," Will leans forward until he's propping himself above Mike. Mike's hands don't budge, and Will presses a kiss to his pale knuckles.

"Leave me," Mike groans, muffled by his palms. It doesn't last long, though. When he feels Will's hands wrapping around his own, he melts and lets Will do what he wants. He pulls Mike's hands away, finally locking eyes with him.

"Hi."

"Hey."

"I also really like it when you're embarrassed, and you get really dramatic," Will whispers. Mike can feel his warm breath on his lips.

"Thanks?" Mike grimaces.

"Are you gonna add anything?" Will raises an eyebrow, and his voice goes lower, more raspy.

"Too many things to list," Mike's hand snakes around Will's waist again, fingertips gently brushing back and forth. Will's lips twitch up for a second.

"Right," Will rolls his eyes.

"I mean it," Mike switches his playful tone to more serious. "I- There's genuinely so much I love about you that I can't pinpoint something specific. You just.. You're perfect."

It just slipped out, and Mike let it happen. He's learning to stop overthinking. He doesn't have to do that with Will. They already know pretty much everything about each other. Will is still here, even after all of Mike's awkward phases, rebellious phases, all the times he hurt him. Mike saying something corny or embarrassing every once in a while is not going to make Will hate him.

Not to mention, even the corniest lines seem to work wonders on Will. His breath hitches, his lips stretch into a wide smile. He huffs out a laugh and drops his head on Mike's chest, hiding. Mike chuckles at that, pressing his palm down on Will's waist more. Then he gets an idea.

"Hey," he whispers into Will's hair. Will hums in response. "There's something we could try. If you want."

Will lifts his head just enough to look at Mike. There's a curious shine behind his eyes. Suddenly Mike feels flustered all over again, and forgets how to talk properly.

"I, uh.. What if we.. Shit," he rubs his face roughly, then looks up at the ceiling. This is impossible with eye contact. "What if you, like.. sat on me? God, that sounds awful."

"You mean, like, straddle you?" Will sounds just as flustered. His voice is barely louder than a whisper.

"Yeah. If that's not weird," Mike says. It sounds like someone is choking him in this very moment. He's blushing from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest.

"Why would it be weird?" Will asks with a smile.

"I don't know," Mike shrugs. "We're learning, right?"

"I think people usually don't think about this too much. It just.. happens. Like, in the moment."

"Kind of like we did at the party?" Mike teases.

"We did?" Will's eyebrows shoot up. He pauses, thinking, then it clicks. "Right. Yeah, we did."

"Yeah. It was.. cool."

"Wow," Will rolls his eyes playfully.

"So.. What do you say?" Mike widens his eyes in anticipation. He keeps absentmindedly rubbing circles onto Will's waist.

"Okay," Will whispers after a pause.

He slowly gets up and looks at Mike, laying flat on his back. Will hesitates for a second, eyes darting around, hands hanging in the air. He's blushing, maybe even more than Mike. He bites down on his bottom lip nervously.

"I mean, you don't have to-"

Mike can barely finish before Will moves. He throws one leg over Mike's waist, brings his other knee up on the mattress, and settles down, like he belongs there. His pajama shorts ride up a little. Mike's breath hitches. The mattress creaks beneath them.

"This okay?" Will whispers, looking down at Mike a little worried.

"More than okay," Mike nods rapidly. Will can't help but huff out a laugh.

Mike's hands are uselessly clutching the blanket at first. When he realizes it, he lifts them, looking for a better spot. He stops above Will's thighs, and glances up at him, silently asking permission. Will nods, and Mike's palms make contact with the bare tan skin. Will flinches a little.

"How are your hands this cold?" he complains.

"Sorry," the best Mike could come up with, brain scrambled. He's looking at Will like he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Maybe he is.

"So.. Now what?" Will shifts a little, stabilizing himself with a palm on Mike's chest. For a few seconds Mike just stares at him, jaw open and all, then he lifts himself slightly.

"Come here," he whispers.

Will doesn't hesitate. He leans forward, crashing their lips together. It's immediately wet and very audible. They both try to keep it as quiet as possible. Will is propping himself up on one hand, the other immediately cupping Mike's face. He's tracing the pale sharp lines with his fingertips, from the slope of his cheekbone to the curve of his jaw. Mike sighs at the touch.

Mike's hands stay on Will's thighs at first, squeezing lightly and gliding back and forth, from the knees to the hem of the shorts. Will's skin feels warm and fuzzy beneath his palms, like the most expensive silk there is. He can't keep at it for long, though. One hand slips away and moves to cup Will's cheek, then the back of his neck.

"This okay?" Mike mumbles into the kiss, barely audible. He's touched the back of Will's neck before, but it won't hurt to check in, to make sure.

"Yeah," Will mumbles back, refusing to separate for even a second.

Mike presses him closer, until Will is practically folded in half. They really should catch their breaths, but that's the last thing on their minds right now. The bed is creaking beneath them, they're shifting and panting into each other's mouths. Mike tilts his head, brushing their noses. Another idea comes to his mind, but he doesn't get to act on it.

"Will, sweetie, is Mike still- Oh God."

Joyce opens the door and freezes up. Her eyes are completely round, mouth open, eyebrows raised. The two separate in a blink of an eye, lips popping way too loudly. Will almost falls off the bed, jerking to stand up. Joyce looks at them, then looks away, then does a double take, looks away again. All while blinking about two times a second. She's opening and closing her mouth repeatedly, but nothing is coming out.

"Okay, I- I should go. I'm gonna go. Yeah. I'm going," she waves her pointer finger around, eyes darting everywhere but the bed.

She turns to leave and stops herself at least three times before finally leaving and closing the door. It was so gentle, barely audible, contrasting the situation at hand. The two boys try not to look at each other, absolutely mortified. Especially Will. Their lips are red, swollen and glistening from the kiss.

"Fuck," Mike wheezes out, like he just got punched in the gut.

Chapter Text

Joyce came back a few minutes later. She knocked this time, waited for permission to come in and opened the door very slowly. Mike and Will are sitting on the edge of the bed, heads hanging low. They're keeping some distance from each other.

"Hey," Joyce stretches, face all scrunched up. She's trying to act like this isn't awkward whatsoever.

She grabs a chair and sits across from the two boys. Will slowly looks up at her, but only manages to maintain eye contact for about two seconds, before looking back down. Joyce tilts her head to look at him better.

"Hey," she whispers, a warm smile spreading on her face.

"I- I'm sorry, mom. We didn't- We shouldn't have done that," Will starts apologizing. His voice is wobbly, like he's about to start crying. His hands shake. Mike and Joyce reach out at the same time, grabbing one hand each.

"No, sweetheart. It's okay," Joyce says, squeezing her son's hand tight. She glances over at Mike with that same warmth. "I guess it's better that you do it here, in a safe environment."

"Mom," Will groans. It grows into an embarrassed chuckle. He's refusing to lift his head.

"I'm serious. I've been young. I've kissed.. people, in the wildest of places," Joyce goes on, waving her hand around.

"People?" Will finally lifts his head, giving his mom a confused look.

"What I'm saying is," she ignores the question and continues. "I'd rather you do it here than under a bridge somewhere."

Mike huffs out a laugh, but doesn't say anything, for once. He slowly interlaces his fingers with Will's, showing that he's here. They're in this together. Joyce smiles wider at that.

"But," she starts again, sitting up straighter. "I need to know that you boys are being safe when you-"

"Oh my god, mom," Will interrupts, groaning so loud it echoes. He hunches over, pressing his forehead to his knees.

"Listen, I might not know much about how it works with two men, but-"

"Mom, please. Stop," Will whines more, voice rough and scratchy. He looks at her, pleading for this conversation to end. "We're not.. We're not doing.. that. We've been together less than a month."

"Really?" Joyce sounds genuinely surprised.

"Yeah?" now Will is confused. He exchanges a glance with Mike. He also has no clue.

"Oh," she sits back, surprised.

"What?"

"I just.. I thought it's been more than that."

"What?!" Will squeals and nearly jumps up from the bed. Joyce reaches out to where his and Mike's fingers are tangled together, and gently holds them.

"I'm really happy for you two," she says with the warmest, most comforting smile there is. She's practically exuding sunshine.

"Thanks, mom," Will says sheepishly, smiling like a little kid.

"Take care of each other, okay?" she adds and glances over at Mike. Right now she's talking more to him than to Will.

"Yeah. Of course," Mike whispers, voice raspy and rough. He nods rapidly and gives Joyce a reassuring smile.

"Does anyone else know?" she asks, even more quiet than she already was.

"Jane, Max and Jonathan," Will lists.

"Maybe Nancy," Mike adds. Will shoots him a questioning look. Mike dismissively waves his hand at him. "Long story."

"Okay. Oh, also," Joyce stands up. The atmosphere is much less awkward now, thankfully. "Mike, your mom called. She needs you at home."

"Oh. Okay, yeah," Mike nods and slowly stands up from the bed. Will follows him, refusing to separate their hands.

They just stand there for a few seconds, unsure what to do. The two boys are clinging to each other's hands. Mike doesn't want to leave, but at the same time it feels extremely awkward. Joyce is looking at them, with that same soft caring smile. Will finally breaks the silence.

"Hey, um," he looks at Joyce, whispering. "Can you.. not tell Hopper yet? Please?"

"Of course, sweetie," Joyce reassures. She puts one hand on her son's shoulder, and uses the other one to pretend to zip up her mouth, keeping this secret.

"Thank you," Will breathes out.

Will practically drags Mike out to the front porch, hands still connected. They linger there for a while, just looking at each other, awkwardly shifting from side to side. Will still feels extremely embarrassed about the last few minutes, it clearly showing up on his face. Usually he's good at masking his emotions, but this really got him good. Mike sighs, breaking the silence.

"That was.."

"I don't wanna think about it," Will cuts in, voice deeper than usual. He looks up at the sky, trying to forget.

"Can I ask you something?" Mike asks quietly. Will looks back at him, saying 'go ahead' with just his eyes. Mike leans in closer, and his lips stretch into a grin. "Did you.. like what we were doing?"

"Mike," Will rolls his eyes. He's not sure if Mike's goal is to ease the embarrassment. If so, it's doing the complete opposite.

"I did," Mike says casually, enjoying the way Will's face keeps contorting from the mix of embarrassment and playfulness.

"I did, too," Will mumbles, barely audible, and rolls his eyes one more time. He looks up at Mike through his eyelashes, and the shit eating grin splitting his face makes Will grin right back. He leans away with a sigh, and smacks Mike's stomach with the back of his hand. "Go home, Mike. I'll see you tomorrow."

"No kiss?"

"Mike. Not here," Will tries to sound firm.

"I don't see anyone," Mike looks around, even brings his palm up to his forehead for dramatic effect. He frowns and shrugs.

"I feel like my mom is watching us."

"She's not," Mike chuckles. He glances at the windows. There is some movement there, but it's probably just curtains swaying from the wind. Probably.

"I feel like she is," Will grimaces. "Or she's gonna show up as soon as we do anything."

"So, no kiss?" Mike tilts his head, and gets another smack to the stomach, harder this time.

"Home. Now," Will says, holding back giggles.

As a last resort, Mike pulls their connected hands up to his lips, and presses a quick, feather light kiss to Will's knuckles. Will looks up at him with wide eyes, and light blush spreads over his cheeks. Mike huffs out a laugh.

"I liked when you did that to me," he whispers and finally separates their hands.

Will just nods, not trusting his mouth right now. After a brief pause, he pulls Mike into a hug. He presses his face into the curve of his neck. Mike's chin finds its place on the top of Will's head. He even closes his eyes, savoring the moment. Today has been a lot.

They stay like this for a bit, tangled together. Hands gently rubbing backs. Breathing steady and content. With one last sigh, Will separates.

"Okay. Now go," he says playfully.

"Can you come over tomorrow?" Mike says, eyebrows curved.

"Of course," Will says softly, then nods towards the road, once again urging Mike to go home.

Mike sulks, slowly turns around on his heels, and leaves, kicking pebbles around the whole way.

___

The next day, as promised, Will came over. He brought the painting, the paints and the brushes with him. He's made more progress after Mike left, and it became impossible to keep hidden from Jane. Unfortunately he couldn't bring his easel, hands already full as it is. So now he's sitting at Mike's desk, with the canvas taped and propped up on Mike's stuff, painting. It's not ideal, but good enough. Mike opened up the curtains so Will can get as much sunlight as possible.

Mike himself is laying on his bed, reading. They've been at this for a while, barely saying anything. Just being in each other's comfortable presence. Will is completely focused on his work, hunched forward, bottom lip trapped between his teeth and all. He's working on the field now, mixing up different shades of green and yellow, from very dark to nearly white. He doesn't really know any tricks for this part, how to make it quick, so for at least an hour he's just been peppering tiny strokes of grass all over.

Mike puts his comic away and looks up the ceiling. His eyes are burning a bit, and it's too warm in this room. He feels his stomach grumble, and assumes that Will must be hungry, too. Mike peels himself off the bed, shuffles over to the window and opens it up. The fresh summer air is still warm, but it might help.

Will, as usual, is handling the heat much better. He just has a faint rosy tint on his cheeks, his bangs are slightly damp and sticking to his forehead, but other than that he looks great. Though, when he's this focused on something he might as well be boiling alive.

"I'll be right back," Mike says quietly. Will only hums in response.

Mike can't resist the urge to ruffle the other boy's fluffy brown hair on his way out. Some time later, he comes back, somehow balancing two glasses of water and a plate with two sandwiches in his hands. He opened the door with his elbow after about three tries, and pushed it open with his body. That still couldn't take Will's attention away from the canvas, though.

Mike sighs, sets the food on the desk and waits for Will to pull the brush away from the painting. He doesn't want to make him flinch and mess up. Might as well jump out the window head first if that happens. When Will reached over to wash the brush, Mike pressed his palm to his lower back. He traces the curve of Will's spine gently, then applies pressure, making the other boy straighten his back.

"Hm?" Will turns to look at Mike, like he just got pulled out of a trance. Mike huffs out a laugh.

"Take a break," he says softly. That caring tone that is reserved specifically for Will.

"I'm okay," Will waves his hand dismissively, but the palm on his back slides higher, persisting.

"Will, you've been painting for, like, three hours. We have all day. Just eat," Mike leans down, closer to Will's ear, and gently pushes the plate towards him.

"Okay," Will sighs and slumps back in his chair. He grabs the sandwich, then slightly furrows his eyebrows. "We're allowed to eat in here now?"

"Well, no," Mike frowns and tilts his head playfully. Karen would kill him if she saw him bringing food up to his room. "Just don't leave any crumbs and we should be fine."

"I think you should tell yourself that," Will scoffs, offended.

Out of the two of them Will definitely isn't the one who needs to be told that. He looks down at the floor, where a few crumbs have already fallen at Mike's feet.

"That was there before," Mike protests, mid chewing.

Will takes a few bites, still staring at the painting, obsessively analyzing it. Mike is standing above him, leaning on the desk comfortably, and watching him. His eyes glide from the fluffy hair down to his long lashes, focused eyes, the smooth slope of his nose, the mole above his lip, and of course the lips themselves.

Will leans back and rubs his eyes, groaning. Mike gently pushes the glass of water closer to him. Will takes it and drinks some of it, greedy like he's been stranded in the middle of a desert.

"I'm gonna see this in my dreams," Will complains, voice rough. He's staring at the painting with wide eyes.

"Which is why you need a break. Shit," Mike loses a piece of his bread. He crouches down to pick it up and throws it in his trashcan.

He stands behind Will, towering over him. He braces himself with one hand against the desk, pretty much caging Will. Mike didn't even mean for this to be flirty or anything, it just happened naturally. Will leans back a little, the back of his head pressing into Mike's chest. It feels warm, but not the kind that makes Mike feel all sweaty and gross and like he wants to die. The kind that pleasantly nests in his chest, electrifying his limbs.

"Looks amazing," he says softly, looking at the painting. Will groans and rubs his eyes again. "You did it really fast."

"Yeah. I guess the new brushes gave me motivation," Will says playfully, and raises his head to look at Mike. Mike huffs out a flustered laugh.

That's when the door swings open, and Nancy appears. She's in her pajamas, her face is a little flushed and her hands are hanging in the air. She always does it when she's in a rush, or in the middle of a task. Mike immediately straightens out, slightly leaning away from Will. The other boy does the same, shifting forward in his seat. Nancy's eyes dart around the room for a second, looking for something.

"Hi, Will," she says softly and gives Will a little wave. Then her voice goes back to her usual lower tone. "Mike, I'm gonna borrow one of your pillowcases."

"My what? Why?" Mike furrows his brows. Nancy walks in before he can even properly respond.

"All of mine are in the laundry. You know, because I change them regularly," Nancy says sarcastically. Can't resist the urge to tease Mike when the opportunity presents itself.

"Fuck off," Mike whines, then points to his closet. "Bottom right."

Nancy follows the directions. She kneels down in front of Mike's closet, and starts digging through all of his extra bedding. It's difficult because he did not organize it at all. It's folded, sure, but it's not separated by type. Instead it's just a one big pile. Nancy lets out a frustrated sigh. Mike watches her, already feeling annoyed about how long this is taking.

"What's this?" Nancy asks when she finds a box under the layers of fabric.

"None of your business," Mike barks out and darts towards her.

She scoots to the side, while Mike digs out a pillow case, pulling the rest of the bedding out in the process. It spills all over the floor. The two Wheelers stand up, and Mike shoves the pale fabric into Nancy's hands. She looks at him, a little confused, but lets it go.

As she's about to leave, she stops to look at Will's painting. Mike silently screams behind her. Nancy's face lights up in genuine awe, and Will immediately gets all flustered.

"Wow. This is amazing. Is this for your portfolio?" she asks, eyes taking in all the details on the canvas.

"No, this is for Dustin, actually. He commissioned it," Will explains. His cheeks are glowing red, and he presses a palm to his face to try and hide that.

"Oh yeah, I see it," Nancy leans lower, pointing at the two painted figures. "That's him, right? And this is.. Jane?"

"Yeah," Will breathes out, sinking further into his seat.

"Aw, that's so sweet," Nancy smiles, and her eyebrows curve in a way that makes her bright blue eyes look bigger than they already are. "You're so talented."

"Thanks, Nancy," Will mumbles. He's just like his younger self right now, overwhelmed by praise. He's sinking back into his seat, trying to make himself smaller, all shy and flustered and not sure how to respond.

"Anything else?" Mike speaks up, clearly frustrated. Nancy straightens out, clutching the pillow case. Her voice goes lower again.

"No," she shakes her head and turns to leave. She's not done yet, though. She points to the pile of bedding at Mike's feet. "Don't just shove it back in. Fold it."

Before Mike can respond, she's gone. He groans, looks at the pile for a few seconds, then just picks it all up and shoves it into his closet. He closes the door before it can spill back out.

"Really?" Will says, holding back a laugh.

"I'll deal with it later," Mike waves a dismissive hand and returns to his previous position, towering over Will. He places a quick peck to the crown of his head. "How is.. How is your portfolio going?"

"It's going," Will sighs. "I was sketching a lot in New York. Was bored out of my mind. I don't know if it'll be good enough."

"It will," Mike says so fast he almost interrupts the other boy. He presses another kiss to his head, and stays there. "Of course it will. You're the best. Everyone is gonna be so jealous of your skills, including the teachers."

"Yeah, I doubt that," Will rolls his eyes and chuckles. He reaches one hand up and presses it to the side of Mike's neck. Mike can feel the dried specs of paint on the tan fingers.

"Do you.. wanna go somewhere later?" Mike asks quietly, muffled by the brown hair.

"Like where?"

"I don't know," Mike shrugs sheepishly. "Somewhere."

"It's really hot today," Will sighs.

"I guess you're right," Mike sighs back and plops on his bed, face buried in the blanket.

That's too hot, though, so he turns to lay on his back. Will watches him for a few seconds, then gets up and lays next to him. They interlace their fingers and just look up at the ceiling for a bit. Then Will scoots closer, pressing their shoulders together.

"Thanks for the sandwich. I was pretty hungry," Will whispers, voice a bit raspy. It's like the most beautiful symphony to Mike's ears.

"And you didn't say anything?" Mike asks, and his eyebrows curve in worry.

"I didn't realize it until you put the plate in front of me," Will chuckles. He scoots even closer, turns on his side and presses his nose to Mike's shoulder. "When I paint, I kinda forget about everything else."

"I guess I'm gonna have to remember all of it for you," Mike whispers, hotness spreading on his cheeks.

"I guess so."

Mike turns on his side, facing Will. Their faces are mere inches apart. The sun coming from the window hits Will in the most perfect way, making him look like an actual angel that has descended from the Heavens.

Mike just looks at him, completely mesmerized. His brown hair looks almost golden, carefully illuminated. His eyes are somehow brighter than they already were, shining and glistening, full of love. Mike's tongue involuntarily darts out to wet his lips, and Will's eyes follow the movement.

"Do you.. wanna try what we did yesterday?" Will whispers, eyes still down at Mike's lips.

"Uh, do I want a million dollars? What kinda question is that," Mike says sarcastically. It's corny, and he almost regrets it as it leaves his mouth, but it is what it is. Will still laughs at it with a rosy blush on his cheeks.

"Okay, but lock the door. Please," Will says through giggles.

Mike nods and quickly does as he's told. It's clumsy, too eager, but he can't help it. After no more than three seconds, he's back at the edge of his bed, about to scoot backwards, but Will stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Actually.. stay just like that," Will mumbles, unsure and very flustered. Mike stays right where he is.

Will climbs off the bed, stands in between Mike's spread knees, and after a second or two he sits down. His knees press to Mike's hips, caging him in. He's holding onto Mike's shoulders to keep his balance. Mike helps by grabbing his waist. The thick mattress creaks beneath them, and it takes them some time to find a comfortable position where they're not about to tip over and fall. Some more shifting, and they finally settle down.

This is different. For once, Mike has to tip his head back to look at Will, and that makes him feel all fuzzy inside. His waist is soft and pliable under his palms. Today Will wore one of the shirts he got in New York. The cotton feels nice, though it's definitely a far cry from what's under it.

Will's jean shorts rode up a bit, showing off a faint tan line on his thighs. His hands have migrated up to Mike's neck, rubbing circles into the pale skin.

"Is this okay?" Will asks, barely above a whisper, but they're so close that Mike hears it perfectly. He feels it on his lips, the little warm puffs of air.

Mike gives Will a blank stare, saying 'really?' with his eyes alone. Will catches on, and nods his head with a chuckle. Mike pulls him closer, until their chests are almost touching. They can feel each other's heat. Usually Mike would find it overwhelming. Whenever their friends try to hug him or put their arms around his shoulders on an already hot day, he pulls back, complaining about the extra unneeded heat.

This is different. He wants that heat, craves it. His pajama shirt is already sticking to his back from laying on the warm blanket for hours. God, he hates summer.

Will leans down slightly, barely brushing his lips against Mike's, teasing. Mike is impatient, though, so he dives right in, connecting. Will exhales loudly when they make contact. Mike tilts his head to get a better angle. Their hands can't stay idle, shifting around skin and bunching up fabrics. Mike traces every curve of Will's back, from his spine up to his shoulder blades, then back down. In the process Will's shirt rode up a bit, enough for Mike's pinky to make contact with bare skin.

He traces the edges of the old burn scar on Will's hip, gentle like it could still hurt after all these years. His skin is warm like sunshine and smooth like velvet. Touching it always feels like it's the first time. Mike can feel lightnings of electricity shooting through his fingertips every time it happens.

Will's hands roam around, too. They glide over Mike's shoulders, down his arms, then all the way up to his face. Memorizing every curve. Sure, Will has seen Mike's body plenty of times before, but never allowed himself to look for too long. Only short glimpses, then he would try to connect those images into one, in his sketchbook. The real deal is completely different.

They keep kissing, slightly shifting from time to time. The room feels at least five times hotter. The outside breeze is doing next to nothing. The air is filled with wet sounds of lips colliding, quiet gentle breaths and the creaking of the mattress.

Will's hands eventually find their way into Mike's curls, ruffling them just like he did back at Stacey's party. He doesn't even have to look. His fingertips gently brush Mike's forehead, push the pitch black strands into position. Mike has not been able to recreate the look on his own. Usually his hair turns out flat, the curls unravelled, or it falls into that stupid side part that Mike has been trying to avoid.

'It makes you look like your dad and everyone hates it' always flashes in his head.

Then an idea sparks up in his brain. Something he wanted to try yesterday, but couldn't act on. Next time their lips brush, he pushes his tongue forward along with his bottom lip, testing. His body heats up with pleasure when Will does it back. It's unsure, shy, but so new and electrifying.

"Mike! Are you there? Over!"

Dustin's loud voice comes from the walkie. The two separate with a loud pop, startled. Mike immediately groans, nearly growls and falls back on the mattress. Will laughs at him, and reaches back to grab the walkie. He brings it to Mike's face.

"Can we just pretend we died?" Mike whispers, as if Dustin is going to hear it.

"Mike. What if it's something important?" Will whispers back, even though, again, there is zero need for that. Mike rolls his eyes, grabs the walkie and presses the button.

"Yeah, I'm here. What is it? Over," Mike grumbles, not even bothering to mask his annoyed tone.

"We're going to Hunting & Camping right now. Are you in? Over," Dustin sounds excited.

Mike and Will exchange a glance. Mike does not want to go. Will's face lights up with excitement. Mike folds.

"Okay. We'll be there. Over," Mike says into the walkie.

"We? Is Will with you?"

Shit.

"Uh, yeah. He's here," Mike stumbles a bit, but sounds casual enough.

"Hey," Will adds.

"Fantastic! Then we'll pick you up in twenty minutes. Over and out!" Dustin practically screams, clearly in a hurry.

Mike opens his mouth to complain about such a short notice, but it's already too late. He groans again. Will takes the walkie out of his hand and puts it back on the desk.

"What? You wanted to go somewhere," Will asks, carefully climbing off of Mike's lap.

"I mean, yeah. But I wanted to go with you," Mike whines, rubbing his face roughly.

"We're both going?"

"No, I mean," Mike lets out a little frustrated sound and sits up. His legs are crossed and he's propping his face up with one hand. The other is flying around in erratic gestures. "I mean just with you. We don't even need any more gear. I have everything. My dad's old tent in the garage, our sleeping bags are in the basement. I definitely have a few flashlights somewhere. What more could we need?"

"We don't have to buy anything," Will gently protests, shrugging. "We're just gonna hang out with our friends."

"But we do that all the time," Mike whines more. "You know, while you were gone, I woke up to Lucas and Dustin mowing my fucking lawn. Or another time, I went downstairs and everyone was in my kitchen. My mom was literally making them breakfast! On my day off!"

"They just care about you," Will says through a laugh. It just bubbles out of him. It's always amusing to watch Mike complain.

"They love getting on my nerves," Mike pouts, then stretches his arms out towards Will, inviting. Will obliges, and walks closer. Mike wraps his arms around his waist and presses his forehead to his chest.

"Mike," Will whispers, fingers messing with the dark curls like on instinct.

Mike leaves a peck on Will's upper stomach. He can feel Will flinch under his touch.

"Sorry," Mike hurries, face switching to a worried expression.

"It's okay," Will chuckles and tries to bite down his smile. Mike huffs out a laugh in response.

He switches his grip. Instead of keeping his palms locked behind Will, he moves them to his sides, firmly gripping him at the hips. Mike peppers more kisses to his stomach, feather light and gentle, moving upwards. As high as he can reach from his sitting position. Will squirms, giggling and gripping Mike's shoulders.

"Mike," slips out of Will's mouth between giggles.

"Just stay here," Mike mumbles into Will's shirt after another quick kiss.

"Mike."

"Come on. I can call him back, say we changed our minds," Mike keeps pressing. He pulls Will closer.

"Mike," Will says more firmly, pushing Mike back by his shoulders.

Mike's head shoots up, face curved in worry. Will did not sound playful anymore. When they lock eyes, Mike feels his stomach flip for half a second. Will's eyebrows are curved, lips are pressed together tight, and his eyes have that familiar hurt behind them. Mike has seen that look before.

"We're not ditching our friends," Will continues. His voice wobbles just a tiny bit. Most people would miss it. Mike doesn't.

That's when it hits. The memories of that summer when Mike was still dating Jane, and they kept ditching the Party to spend time with each other, often hiding behind a 'curfew'. Mike can feel the overwhelming guilt squeezing his heart tight. Back then he tried to ignore that look in Will's eyes. Tried to pretend it wasn't there and just focus on being a good boyfriend, or at least what his teenage self thought a good boyfriend was.

Mike immediately changes his tune. He promised himself he will never make Will feel that way again, yet here he is. Being the reason Will's face curves the way it does, the reason that familiar hurt in his eyes is there in the first place. His grip weakens, and he leans back just enough so Will can have a good view of his face, know how sincere he is.

"Y- Yeah. You're right. Sorry. I- I just.. I missed you, you know," Mike stutters, eyes wide. Will's face softens.

"I know," Will pulls him back by his shoulders. His lips stretch into a soft smile. "I missed you, too, and I missed our friends."

"Yeah," Mike nods rapidly. His voice is quiet and breathy, still very guilty. "You're right. You're always right."

"I wouldn't say 'always'," Will rolls his eyes and laughs.

"I would."

"Well, you should probably go get ready, then. You have about fifteen minutes," Will leaves Mike's grasp, though he let his hands linger on him a little longer than necessary.

"Okay," Mike says through a sigh and lazily stands up from his bed.

"I'll be downstairs."

"You don't wanna watch me change?" Mike jokes with a dorky smirk. Will scoffs in response.

"Shut up."

___

They stand on Mike's front porch, waiting. Will is calm and excited, shifting slightly on his feet. Mike can't stay still for the life of him. He's constantly bouncing up and down on his feet, and he tucked his hands into his armpits, physically preventing himself from touching Will. He wants to so bad. His fingertips practically itch.

A car pulls up shortly after. The boys were expecting Lucas, but it was actually Steve. He looks more irritated than usual. Once he parks he immediately starts massaging his temples. Next to him in the passenger seat is Robin, smiling wide.

"Hey, happy campers!" she gets out of the car and pulls Mike and Will into a tight hug.

"Robin!" Will lights up immediately and hugs her back.

She sways the two from side to side, grinning. Mike feels the air getting squeezed out of his lungs. He can see Dustin waving at them from the back seat, and does his best to wave back.

"Alright, Stevie is a little cranky today, so try to be quiet, okay?" Robin says and pulls back. She gives Will some more shoulder pats, and everyone gets in the car.

Will takes the middle back seat, and Mike sits in the remaining window seat, right behind Robin. When she closes the door, Steve squirms.

"Hey, Steve," Mike says quietly.

"Hey," Steve mumbles back. He starts up the car and they leave the Wheeler driveway.

"Where's everyone else?" Will asks Dustin.

"They'll meet us there. Lucas has been driving Erica and her friends around all morning, so he couldn't pick us up," Dustin explains.

"Oh, she really meant that threat," Will lets out a quiet laugh.

"She always does," Dustin shakes his head in amusement.

Mike shifts in his seat a little, enough to press his knee to Will's. He needs at least some contact. Will presses back. They drive around for a bit, mostly silent. Sometimes Robin turns around to tell a camping story from her childhood. How she broke her toe one time, or how she broke a zipper to her tent and got stuck in there for hours. She laughs and snorts so hard she can barely finish the story.

When they pull up to Hunting & Camping, Lucas just finishes parking. He practically jumps out of the car, and starts stretching his legs and back. Afterwards Max and Jane get out, too. Steve takes the spot right next to them, and everyone spills out of his car.

The sun is so bright it's blinding. Everyone is squinting and bringing their palms up to their foreheads. The asphalt is practically sizzling beneath their feet. The Party happily greet each other, exchanging hugs. Mike is a little less enthusiastic about it, though. He still wishes he stayed in his room with Will.

"What's up with him?" Lucas points to Steve, who's hunched over and massaging his temples.

"Bad head day," Robin says like it's common sense.

"A bad what day?" Lucas scrunches his face.

"A migraine, Sinclair. It's called a migraine," Steve groans. His face gets more tense, like every word brings him more pain. He doesn't lose his teacher tone, though. "Don't get lost in there. I'll wait in the car."

He doesn't wait for anyone to respond and gets back inside. Everyone else watches him recline in his seat and pull on a sleeping mask. This isn't unusual at this point. He gets a lot of migraines, and it's better to just leave him alone. Unless you're Dustin and you need a favor.

Lucas is still stretching and groaning. Mike shoots him a confused look. Lucas sighs.

"I've been on my ass all morning. Leave me alone," he grumbles. Mike huffs out a laugh.

They walk inside, and almost immediately split into groups. Robin, Will and Jane go in one direction, the rest go the opposite direction. Naturally, Mike was going to follow Will, but got dragged away by Dustin.

Mike isn't sure how long they've been walking around this store. The musty smell is probably going to stay stuck in his nose forever. Lucas pushes the cart around, and somehow it's close to overspilling already. Mike is not getting anything for himself, while the others are picking up stuff they don't even really need. It's like they're gearing up to fight an interdimensional monster again, and not just to sleep in the woods for one night.

"How are you paying for all of this?" Mike catches up to Dustin, who's stuck in the pots and pans section.

"Pet sitting," Dustin answers simply.

"That's it?"

"Yeah," Dustin lights up, voice high and a little too loud for this mostly empty store. "I watched my neighbor's dogs for a few hours. Though, they weren't really doing anything, so I just sat on their couch, and got paid!"

He bumps Mike in the arm with his elbow, very proud. Mike scrunches his face even more and scoffs.

"How do you guys have all these rich neighbors that pay you for easy jobs?" he grumbles.

"Participating in the community, my friend," Dustin says theatrically.

"Whatever, man," Mike scoffs again and rolls his eyes.

A little ahead of them are Lucas and Max, whispering and murmuring to each other. Lucas is hunched over the cart. One of his hands is one Max's waist, thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles into the line of bare skin under her crop top. Mike watches the movements. He doesn't mean to.

Then Lucas's hand moves lower, and finds its place in the back pocket of Max's jean shorts. Mike bites the inside of his cheek and looks away. He wants to touch Will like that, be able to just do it casually without worrying about stares or weird comments. Instead they have to settle for little shoulder or knee touches, nothing that can be seen as more than friendly.

Laughs echo throughout the store, from a few isles over. Mike will recognize that slightly raspy laugh anywhere. Dustin is still talking his ear off about something, but he's been too checked out to register most of it.

"I'll be over there," Mike mumbles, pointing in the direction of the laughs. He hopes it looks and sounds casual enough and not too obvious.

The laughs came from the fishing section. Robin, Will and Jane are dying laughing at the ugly fishing lures. Most of them were very misprinted fishes, cheaply made. Robin compared one with particularly bulging eyes to Steve.

Others were corny that only dads in the middle of a life crisis would buy. With stupid puns like 'Master Baiter' or 'Wishin' I Was Fishin'. Robin is about to fall over from how hard she's laughing. Jane and Will are mostly laughing at her reaction. When Will catches Mike's eyes, it's like electricity. His face is bright and happy, and he immediately waves Mike down.

Mike moves like on autopilot. He's already forgotten why he's been in a bad mood, and his lips stretch into a smile. He can feel his cheeks getting hot. To his surprise, Will immediately grabs him by the arm and presses him close. He's still giggling.

"What's so funny?" Mike asks sheepishly, almost laughing himself just from looking at Will.

"Oh my God, stop. I'm gonna pee myself," Robin say through laughs. Her voice is high and loud, she almost sounds like she's crying.

"Look," Jane says, also giggling, and shows Mike a card that says 'You Can Tune A Guitar, But You Can't Tuna Fish'. She is almost dying laughing at it. "Do you get it?"

"Yeah," Mike nods and huffs out a laugh. Then Will tugs at his sleeve. Mike immediately turns to him.

"I think I wanna get this," Will says softly. He's holding a lure that says 'Man With Allure'.

"Since when are you into fishing?" Mike raises an eyebrow.

"Not for me. For Hopper," Will explains.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes more sense," Mike nods and takes the lure out of Will's hand. Will gives him a confused look. "I got it."

"Mike, I have money," Will tries to argue, despite already knowing the outcome.

"So do I," Mike says simply.

Will just sighs and doesn't bother arguing. It's useless. He scoots closer and puts his head on Mike's shoulder. It's so open and comfortable that Mike is taken aback at first. He doesn't mind, though. His thumb finds a belt loop of Will's shorts and he hooks it. Something similar to what he saw Lucas do, but a lot more subtle.

"I'll get this. Thanks, Mike," Jane hops over and puts a lure with 'Bite Me!' into Mike's hand. He opens his mouth in protest, then closes it. Will chuckles next to him.

Then he gently pulls Mike away, as if he wants to look at other isles. Mike doesn't question it. They stop in the gun section. Until now Mike forgot that this is a hunting store as well.

"I have a question. Nothing bad," Will says quietly.

"Okay," Mike nods slowly, all attention on the boy in front of him.

"What did you mean when you said that Nancy knows.. you know."

"Oh," Mike lets out a little gasp, recalling the memory. "I mean, she didn't say it outright. Did Jonathan tell you about the coupons?"

"Yeah," Will nods. "He said they got them for us because they wanted us to have fun, but not make it too obvious. Something like that."

"Oh, that's way less awkward than what I got," Mike says flatly.

"What did you get?" Will asks through a giggle.

"I mean, Nancy said pretty much exactly that, but I misheard her and kind of.. slipped up," Mike mumbles, sinking more into himself with every word.

"I'm not following," Will furrows his eyebrows.

"It's fine," Mike waves a dismissive hand. Then he uses that same hand to nervously scratch his neck. "I'll just.. I'm gonna talk to her about it. At some point."

"Jonathan, too," Will adds, and Mike quietly groans in response, throwing his head back. "It'll be fine. He loves you."

"But what if he doesn't actually? What if he's just telling you that so I let my guard down, then when we're one on one, he strangles me?" Mike rambles, hands flying around in useless frantic gestures.

"You're being paranoid," Will concludes and steps closer. Close enough for them to feel the heat radiating off each other.

Mike shuts up immediately. He groans some more, rubs his face, then reluctantly nods. Maybe he is just being paranoid. Will gives him a warm smile, looking up at him through his long lashes.

"I wanna kiss you so bad," slips out of Mike's mouth before he can catch it. It's quiet, more air than actual words, but Will hears it well enough.

"Me, too," he whispers back, slightly bouncing on his feet. Mike is fiddling with his belt loop still, slightly pulling Will closer.

"Hey! What are you two whispering about over there?" Dustin screams from the other end of the isle. Mike's jaw tightens.

"Nothing!" Will replies when Mike stays quiet for too long. His finger is still tugging at Will's belt loop.

"We don't need guns!" Dustin keeps screaming even though the store is not that big and there is literally no one else here but the Party and Robin.

"We're just.. looking," Will shrugs and turns to Mike for help. Mike looks like he's about to explode.

"Well, we're going to the checkout! So hurry up!" Dustin adds and leaves. Lucas is behind him, the cart so full the gear is towering over it.

"I might need a gun," Mike says through his teeth, face completely tense.

"Come on," Will says through a laugh, lightly pulling Mike towards their friends.

"Maybe a shotgun," Mike grumbles.

"God forbid someone takes Will away from you for a few minutes," Max materializes next to them, making Mike jump. His hand jerks away from Will like he got burned.

"Max," Will whispers, eyes pleading.

"You were gonna ditch us, weren't you? That's why you've been so pissy this whole time?" Max continues, her gaze completely fixed on Mike.

"I'm not pissy! And no, we weren't gonna ditch," Mike complains.

"I meant you," Max pokes Mike's shoulder with her finger. She punctuates her words with more pokes. "You were gonna ditch us."

Mike scoffs, then turns to Will for support. Will looks back at him. 'You know she's right' is written in his eyes. Mike sighs. Throughout the conversation his hand slowly found it's way back Will's belt loop, messing with it again. Max, observant as always, notices, but doesn't comment on it

"Anyway, we're going to Dustin's after this, to discuss all the details," she explains with her arms crossed on her chest. "And his mom made cookies."

"Okay," Will nods eagerly.

He looks up at Mike. Mike opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He just looks down at the floor and nods.

It seems like the entire universe is against him having some alone time with his boyfriend without getting constantly interrupted. That's great.

___

The planning took a few days. They couldn't decide on the exact time or the date. Sometimes Will and Jane were busy, other times Dustin was pet sitting again. But finally, they landed on a day when everyone was free, and the forecast promised good weather. Mike woke up early, packed his bag until he could barely zip it up. The day before, he and Nancy dug through their garage, looking for old camping gear. Of course, Mike did this the day before the trip instead of in advance.

They found a tent that's probably older than Mike, or even Nancy. Mike didn't bother checking if all the parts are there, though. It's all tucked away in a bag, so it's probably fine. In the basement he found multiple flashlights, Nancy made him change out the batteries to be safe. He also grabbed his and Will's sleeping bags.

The rest of the space got taken up by his clothes and other essentials. A few shirts, shorts, then sweatpants and a hoodie for the evening cold, sunglasses. He's bringing sunscreen this time, and last second Nancy gave him a bottle of wine. He looked at her with wide eyes, but she just shoved it into his bag without saying anything.

Then she drove him to Lucas's house, where they all agreed to meet. Mike is nervously sinking into his seat, fidgeting with his hands. He wants to say something, but isn't sure how and where to start. This is the first time in the last few days that the two of them are one on one. Nancy looks like she has something to say, too.

"Are you excited?" she goes with that. Safe start.

"Yeah," Mike says quietly and nods.

"Be safe, okay?"

"I was gonna drown myself in the lake actually," Mike says sarcastically. Can't help it. Nancy scoffs at him.

"I mean it, Mike," Nancy presses, voice more firm. She glances over at her brother and her eyebrows knit together. "Keep an eye on each other."

"Y- Yeah, we will," Mike's sarcasm is completely gone, replaced by a soft, genuine tone.

When they arrive, everyone is already there. Lucas and Erica are loading the bags into the trunk of their dad's car. By their body language it's clear they're arguing, somehow. Probably about the best way to fit all the gear in. Dustin lingers close to them with a list in his hand. Max is holding her bags, already looking tired. She's waiting for the Sinclair siblings to stop bickering so she can load her stuff in. Jane and Will are sitting on their bags, both looking sleepy.

Mike gives Nancy a quick 'thanks', gets out of the car, grabs his bag out of the back seat and joins his friends. His shoulders slump from the weight and his knees buckle immediately. He carries the bag for a few seconds before lowering it to the ground and dragging it the rest of the way.

"Morning," he says, breathing heavy.

Everyone gives him a tired or distracted 'morning' back. Everyone except Will. He gives Mike a warm smile and a little wave. Mike waves back. His heart is already beating fast. It's going to be hard to act normal this whole trip, like he doesn't want to devour Will whole whenever they share a space.

Once the Sinclairs stop arguing, there are a few bags left to load in. Mike puts his bag in, then without question grabs Will's. Will tries to protest, but it's fruitless. Mike manages to load it in, and that takes the last of his strength. Lucas helps Max and Jane put their bags in and finally closes the trunk. The car creaks under all the added weight.

"Check! We did it," Dustin says victoriously, waving the list around.

"Who's we? You didn't do shit," Erica grumbles, stretching her shoulders.

"I made sure we got everything we need," Dustin argues.

Lucas sends Erica back in the house, and gets in the driver seat. Dustin takes the passenger seat. They already have a map open on the dashboard. The back seats are difficult. There are only three left for four people, but one of them is filled with fishing gear that couldn't fit in the trunk. So, it's actually two seats for four people.

Max stands there, leaning on the door, trying to calculate the best way to go about this.

"Jane and I can share one seat," she concludes.

"Yeah, that's the best option," Jane nods along.

Max climbs in first, then Jane follows and gets on her lap. Mike and Will do the same with the remaining seat. This time it doesn't feel awkward. Will sits down comfortably. Not fully leaning back on Mike, but not trying to keep distance either. Just enough to have that constant, warm contact. Mike reaches over to close the door, and everyone is finally settled. Lucas looks back at them.

"Tell me if you wanna pull over and stretch your legs, okay?" he says, with a note of worry in his voice. Everyone nods.

He starts the engine. The car creaks a little more, not used to carrying so much weight. Lucas pulls out of the driveway and they ride down the road. Dustin reaches over to put on some music.

It started pretty okay. Everyone was still calm, just a bit sleepy. Max was dozing off just fifteen minutes in. Jane is leaning forward, between the two front seats, with a full view of the road. Dustin is showing her the map, explaining their route and all the spots they could stop at.

Mike's hands are already wrapped around Will's waist, anchoring him in place. Will is leaning forward a little, listening to Dustin along with Jane. He's been kind of quiet so far, but Mike doesn't push. It's early, and they're all tired. Will must just be sleepy. Mike can feel his own exhaustion creeping up on him, but he fights it. His head tips over and he falls asleep for a split second, then sits up again.

The first hour flew by relatively peacefully. Lucas was driving steadily, eyes fixed on the road, carefully following Dustin's directions. Max was full on asleep, and Jane followed up at some point, laying back on her friend's shoulder. Will was leaning back on Mike, too. One of his hands is resting on top of Mike's, absentmindedly tracing his pale knuckles, long fingers and his wrist bone. Mike was still fighting sleep, refusing to miss a single second of having Will so close, so warm.

Outside the sun is steadily moving higher, temperature rising along with it. Lucas and Dustin already cracked their windows, letting the breeze drift around the car. The roads stretch around them, new and unfamiliar. It's not the prettiest view so far.

They stopped at a gas station to stretch their limbs and grab some food. Max and Will darted towards the bathroom. Mike got himself a cup of coffee and downed it all in one go. He feels sluggish, and his legs are a bit numb from carrying Will's weight on them for the past hour. He doesn't mind it, though. Dustin and Lucas got hotdogs. Jane stayed in the car, enjoying the few minutes of peace and quiet. Dustin bought her a snack.

Everyone gathers around the car, but Will is still in the bathroom. Mike, without overthinking, goes to check on him. He walks around the building where the small bathroom is located. The door is closed. He puts his ear to it to listen to any movement, then carefully knocks.

"Occupied!" Will's voice comes from the inside. It sounds a bit strained.

"Will, it's me. Are you okay?" Mike says softly. There's a pause.

"Yeah, I'll be right out," Will says quietly. The words shake and wobble. It painfully tugs at Mike's heart.

"Can I.. Can I come in?" he says carefully.

After a few seconds, the lock on the door clicks open. Mike walks in and sees Will. He has barely noticeable eye bags, his face is a little blotchy, like he's been crying. His lips look bitten. Mike closes the door behind him and immediately cups Will's face. Will melts into the touch.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Mike hurries, face contorted in deep concern. Will places his palm on top of Mike's, and a weak smile spreads on his face.

"Just tired. I didn't sleep well," Will explains lazily.

"You sure?" Mike leans lower to get on the other boy's eye level.

"Yeah," Will breathes out and nods against Mike's hand.

"Okay," Mike nods back. His eyes linger on Will's tired face, then drop to his lips. Mike's tongue darts out to wet his own lips. "Can I kiss you?"

"Everyone's waiting," Will tries to protest, but everything about him communicates the opposite. He's grinning, his eyes are suddenly sparkling and he's lightly bouncing on his feet.

"Just a quick one," Mike pleads as he's leaning in.

Will rolls his eyes, but still lifts himself on his tippy toes until his lips meet Mike's. Like promised, it's quick, soft and gentle. Just a peck. Mike caresses Will's cheek like it's something precious, adoration plastered across his own face. He's about to pull away when Will wraps his arms around his neck, and pulls him down for another quick kiss.

"Needed that," Will sighs. He looks more alive already. Mike nods with a dorky grin, not trusting his mouth right now. Will pushes a stray curl out of his face. "Are you tired?"

"A little, but I had coffee. Should be fine," Mike waves a dismissive hand.

"We could switch seats," Will suggests softly, tilting his head.

"No way," Mike says without skipping a beat. He pulls Will into a warm hug.

They stay like that for a bit, then leave the bathroom. Mike didn't even care about the smells or how messy it is in there. Everyone else was already inside the car, with the doors still open. Mike and Will take their previous spots. Mike takes the window seat, then Will sits down on his lap. On their way here Will suggested switching again, worried about Mike's legs, but Mike refused. He's right where he wants to be. Even if his legs go completely numb, he's not moving.

Max and Jane switched, to give Max's muscles a break. The second hour stretches, along with everyone's patience. Lucas grows increasingly more irritated, but does his best to focus on the road. Despite all the planning beforehand, Dustin starts switching up their route, discovering new possible shortcuts. Most of them ended up being useless, either leading to a dead end or taking longer than their original plan would've taken.

"Stop with the goddamn shortcuts!" Max barks out when Dustin suggests taking another sharp turn.

"This one's legit! Look, if we go this way, we won't have to drive around here. It's a straight path!" Dustin tries to explain, fingers tracing frantically over the map.

"You said that the last four times," Jane says softly, but with obvious annoyance in her voice.

Dustin pipes down after that, and sticks to the original plan. Later they stopped at another gas station so Lucas could go to the bathroom. He also bought himself a can of Coke, and made everyone wait until he finishes it.

Mike is still holding Will, chin resting on his shoulder. It's definitely a little more than friendly, but Lucas and Dustin are way too occupied to pay them any mind right now. Will takes a deep, audible breath, catching Mike's attention.

"You okay?" Mike asks quietly.

"Yeah," Will breathes out, nodding. He leans further back on Mike, full on laying on him. Another long sigh escapes him. "I just wanna get there already."

"Yeah," Jane adds, nodding along.

"Lets just hope there aren't any more shortcuts," Max says through her teeth, eyes drilling a hole in the back of Dustin's head.

"Okay, I got it. Jesus," Dustin whines, putting his hands up.

Everyone is beyond irritated, and it doesn't stop. The arguments spark up again, this time about more mundane stuff. They recite old stories from school, then argue about the details. They talk trash about people they don't like and get way too fired up, basically screaming over each other and fueling the anger. Lucas is rubbing his temple, doing his best not to absolutely lose his shit.

"I am so close to swerving off this road and killing all of you," he grumbles to himself among the chaos, gripping the wheel.

The arguments pause when they pass a field with cows or horses, then spark up again. The last hour was agonizing. No one was listening to the music anymore, and their screams could definitely be heard in cars passing by. Somehow, Mike managed to get some sleep in all this chaos, resting his forehead between Will's shoulder blades.

Ultimately, the trip took much longer than the promised three hours, but they made it before noon. They had to skip the 'cool spots', though, and leave them for tomorrow. Dustin and Lucas were not lying about this being a nice camping spot. The area is flat and clean, perfect to set up tents. There are even rocks gathered in a circle to start a fire, some wooden slabs around it to sit on. The tall trees give enough privacy and add a cozy feel to the place.

A rocky path leads down to a lake, with a dark wooden deck and even a tire swing. Everyone spills out of the car, bright and excited, all the arguments immediately forgotten. The air feels completely different from Hawkins. It's fresh, smelling of pine, summer and sun. Dustin and Lucas feel proud.

"How's the view?" Dustin asks loudly.

"This is amazing," Jane replies, in complete awe. Her smile is beaming off her face, and she just can't get enough.

Lucas wraps his arms around Max's waist, leans down and places a quick kiss to the side of her neck. Max is tired, but she still smiles at him and leans into the touch. Lucas murmurs something about a 'better view', making Max giggle. Mike stares at them without realizing, then clears his throat and looks away.

"Uh, should we unpack first?" he tries to change the subject. His face is all scrunched up from the sun, and his forehead is still red from pressing it into Will's back.

"I need to go for a swim," Max says, determined.

She walks over to the car, pulls out her bag and goes down to the beach with Jane. The guys are left to set everything up. This was a chaotic process, as per usual. Lucas set up his and Max's tent with ease, like he does this everyday. Dustin needed some help figuring it out, and Lucas obliged.

Will set up his and Jane's tent slowly, but steadily. He did not have instructions, but this seemed simple enough. He doesn't camp much, outside of a couple 'bonding' trips Hopper took him on. He kind of remembers how Hopper put it together. It takes him some time, but he gets it done on his own, and feels very proud about it.

Mike was a mess. Unfortunately for him, he, in fact, did not have all the pieces for his tent. He did not realize that until he was about twenty minutes deep into the process. He had no instructions, had a few rods missing and the tent itself was in rough shape, to say the least. Lucas and Dustin offered to help, but Mike refused, convincing himself he can do this on his own.

While he was struggling, the rest of the guys set up everything else. The table, the small grill, even tied up a rope between two trees to dry their clothes on later. Then they moved their bags into the tents, but Mike still wasn't done. Well, he kind of was, because he ran out of pieces, but the tent was barely standing, had a few holes in it and the zipper refused to close. Now Mike sees why his family never used it.

"Stupid piece of shit," he grumbles to himself, trying to straighten out the fabric, but then the whole thing collapses flat on the ground. He kicks it. It looks pathetic.

"Just forget it," Lucas dismissively waves at the mess. "Stay with Dustin. He has space."

"Are you shitting me?" Dustin pipes up, very offended. He's holding a pot and starts waving it around. "I literally bought a double tent so I can have space from all of you idiots."

"I- I could.. stay with Will, then," Mike mumbles. He scratches the side of his neck nervously.

"I'm staying with Jane," Will says with a guilty grimace on his face. Mike deflates.

"Okay. Dustin, it is," Mike sighs.

He gathers the mess of fabric and metal rods that was supposed to be a tent, and throws it in their improvised trashcan, which is just a big trash bag next to a tree. He grabs his bag out of the trunk and drags it to Dustin's neon orange tent. Dustin immediately appears behind him.

"Just- No, over there. That's my corner," he directs Mike, clearly irritated. Mike scoffs and just shoves his bag to the side.

"Can't you just switch? Stay with Jane?" Mike tries to whisper.

"Uh, do I want Hopper to kill me with a gun?" Dustin says sarcastically.

"Whatever," Mike rolls his eyes and sighs, not even trying to hide how irritated he is at the situation.

"Why do you want to stay with Will so bad, anyway? Do you hate me or something?" Dustin rambles on, very dramatically.

"You don't wanna stay with me, either!" Mike fires back, eyes wide and eyebrows knit together so tight his forehead is all wrinkled up.

"Yeah, 'cause I wanted privacy! What's your excuse?"

"Because you fart and you snore in your sleep! I don't wanna die in there!" Mike climbs out of the tent. They're both standing outside it, frantically waving their hands at each other with dramatic expressions.

"No I don't, asshole!"

"Yes, you do!"

"How would you know, huh? Have you watched me sleep? Michael Joseph Wheeler watches his friends sleep!" Dustin screams so loud it echoes.

"That's still not my middle name!"

"I'll guess it someday!"

Lucas and Will watch them argue. Lucas is already regretting everything. Will looks very amused. They're in the middle of unpacking all their cutlery.

"Grown adults," Lucas breathes out, shaking his head in disapproval. Will chuckles. Then Lucas's face softens. "Mike has been more lively."

"Yeah. He really has," Will says, barely above a whisper. A faint blush spreads on his cheeks.

"So have you," Lucas adds, giving Will a caring look.

"I guess so," Will shrugs sheepishly and looks down, trying to hide his glowing rosy cheeks.

"Are you okay? You're kinda quiet."

"Yeah, just.. tired, still. Maybe.. Maybe I should go swim, it'll wake me up," Will stumbles over his words.

"Yeah, I think we're done here," Lucas puts his hands on his hips and looks at the campsite. He nods to himself. "Okay, grab those two idiots and lets go."

The guys walk down the rocky path. It feels warm and steady beneath them. The sun is bleeding through the trees in delicate golden patterns, combined with the quiet whistling of the summer wind. Dustin tugs his shoes off in advance, enjoying the feel of the smooth rocks under his feet. Lucas already has his shirt off, a towel on his shoulder and a cooler in his hand.

Mike and Will are a little behind. Mike is carrying both his and Will's stuff. It's not much, but he still feels proud, accomplished. Will has one of Jonathan's old cameras hanging on his neck.

"Mike," Will catches up to him. His voice is quiet and soft. "I can carry my own stuff."

"I know you can, but I got it," Mike says simply. He gives Will a warm, reassuring smile. Lucas and Dustin are far ahead enough, so he leans closer to Will's ear with a mischievous smirk. "You just look pretty."

"Oh my God," Will scoffs and rolls his eyes. Mike feels really proud of that one.

The beach looks straight out of a commercial. The warm smooth sand is already clinging to their feet. The deck is neat, giving them a perfect spot to tan or canon ball off of. The sun is flicking off the water surface like scattered diamonds. The sky is clear, outside of a few faint clouds. To the side there is a tire swing, already occupied by Jane. As a final touch the trees frame the view perfectly.

Will can't resist the urge to snap a photo. He's definitely not nearly as good as Jonathan, but he can center the view well enough, thanks to his drawing experience. It's a simple shot, but it's the memories that matter.

The towels get spread on the sand. Lucas and Dustin quickly tug their clothes off, staying in just in their swim shorts, and dart into the water, racing. It wildly splashes around them, and they dive in almost immediately. When they emerge, Dustin lets out a triumphant 'woo'. It's so loud that the birds sitting in the trees scatter and fly away.

Mike takes his own shirt off, then his eyes get stuck on Will. He slowly pulls his shirt off over his head, revealing more of his golden sun kissed skin. His neck, arms and legs look a bit more tan from what Mike remembers. Must be all the sun Will caught in New York. His fluffy brown hair falls back in his face, and he quickly pats it down to fix it. He does it so naturally, so casually, yet he looks so perfect. Mike can't tear his eyes away from him. When their eyes lock, Will chuckles.

"What?" he asks innocently. Mike is looking at him like an idiot, jaw hanging open. It takes him a second to catch up.

"Nothing," Mike clears his throat. Then he crouches down and reaches into his bag. "I brought sunscreen this time."

"Good," Will says through a giggle and walks closer.

"Wanna apply it for me?" Mike springs back up to his feet, smirking.

"Really?" Will asks flatly, but the blush on the tips of his ears says something else.

"I don't think I can reach my back," Mike says, stretching out his arm a little behind his shoulder.

He definitely can reach his back. He knows it, and so does Will. Mike tilts his head and somehow manages to look up at Will through his lashes. Will's eyes drop down to his lips for a second.

"Fine," Will snatches the sunscreen out of Mike's hand and walks behind him.

Mike can't stop the giddy grin tugging at his lips. His whole body feels electrified. He's practically bouncing up and down on his feet. Sure, the constant contact in the car was nice. Great, actually. Mike felt warm and fuzzy and at peace, even though the car ride here was the complete opposite of peaceful. He needs more. He craves it, and he can barely contain it.

"You're such an idiot," Will whispers fondly. His voice is so raspy it sends electric goosebumps right up Mike's spine.

He squeezes the sunscreen into his palm, and because he's feeling mischievous, he doesn't wait for it to warm up. He rubs his palms to spread it, then presses them to Mike's shoulders. The other boy shudders, tries to lean away from the touch, and a stunted gasp escapes his lips. Will laughs at him.

His palms glide along Mike's arms, even though it's not necessary, then back up to his shoulders, shoulder blades, down the line of his spine. He carefully traces each curve and dip, taking his time with it. He's fascinated by the contrast of Mike's milky white skin against his own tan fingers. Mike catches the sun easily, gets burnt quickly, but it doesn't seem to stick for very long, soon returning to its pale color. Will always liked that, found it beautiful.

The sunscreen is still cold, and Mike keeps squirming under Will's touch. He can't help it. He also can't help the quiet whines at the back of his throat. After another, a particularly loud one, escapes him, he hears Will scoff behind him.

"Stop that," he says, voice a bit strained.

"Stop what?" Mike asks, genuinely confused.

"Making those.. sounds," Will mumbles. His palms slow down.

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

Mike gets interrupted by thumbs pressing into his lower back. Another whine slips out, and his mouth immediately snaps shut. His face gains a crimson red tint, and he freezes completely.

"Okay, I see what you're saying," Mike whispers. It sounds like someone is squeezing his throat shut.

"Yeah," Will chuckles.

They fall quiet for a bit. Will keeps working on Mike's back, making sure to cover every inch of the pale skin. Mike is chewing on his bottom lip, thinking. The two are surrounded by sounds of nature and distant happy voices of their friends.

"You know, I was thinking," they both say at the same time. There's another pause.

"You go first," Mike blurts out.

"I'm pretty sure we're about to say the same thing, so you go ahead," Will says quietly in that raspy tone of his. He swipes Mike's back one last time, and spreads the rest of the sunscreen on his own forearms. "All done."

"Okay," Mike sighs and turns to face the other boy. "I was thinking.. we tell Lucas and Dustin today?"

"Yeah. That sounds great," Will looks up at Mike with sparkling eyes, and gives him a few encouraging nods.

"I mean, not right now," Mike scratches the side of his neck from nerves. Then he crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits. "Just, like.. at some point today. When the time feels right."

"Whenever you're ready. I'll be right there with you," Will steps closer, their chests almost touching.

"Okay," Mike huffs out a laugh, rocking back and forth on his feet. "What were you gonna say?"

"Exactly this," Will chuckles, then gives Mike the sunscreen back. "Do me?"

"Yeah, of course," Mike says softly, squeezing the liquid into his palm.

"But be quick. I've been waiting for this all morning," Will wiggles his shoulders in anticipation.

"For my hands on your back?" Mike jokes, though it came out a little more awkward sounding than he intended.

"For a swim, Mike," Will giggles sweetly. Then his voice goes lower, quieter. "Maybe for that, too. Just hurry up."

"I've got you."

As promised, it was quick, no funny business. Mike's palms were thorough and determined, covering every inch of Will's skin. At the same time, Will was spreading the sunscreen over the front of his torso and down his arms, to be as efficient as possible. One last swipe of Mike's thumb over the back of Will's neck, and they were done. Mike could barely finish talking before Will darted towards the water.

Mike watched him with a fond smile. The way his back muscles shifted and moved as he walked. The way his hair flowed in the breeze. The way he looked like a literal angel, beautifully lit by the summer sun. Mike just stood there, messing with the sunscreen bottle in his hand.

"If you're trying to not be obvious, you're doing a terrible job," Max commented, grabbing a can of soda out of the cooler.

Mike didn't have a comeback, mind somewhere else completely.

___

Everyone feels almost euphoric. They swim, then go back to the sand to tan, return to the camp to grab something, swim again. A few hours fly by like this, filled with laughter and friendly banter.

Lucas and Dustin are busy jumping off the deck into the water, making splashes so big they almost get Mike and Will at the towels. Will is fully immersed in his drawings, sketchbook propped up on his knees. He's made a lot of progress, only having maybe ten empty pages left. Mike is already plotting his next gift.

Jane has been hanging out at the very edge of the lake, where the water meets the sand and whatever greenery managed to grow there. She's crouching, like she's looking for something. Some time later, she comes up to Mike and Will, cupping her hands together.

"Want to see something cool?" she says, grinning from ear to ear.

The two don't have time to respond, though. She opens her hands and shows them a frog she caught. The little creature is slimy, clumsily blinking its bulging eyes at the two boys. Will yelps, his sketchbook falls off to the side, and he clings to Mike's arm for protection. Mike is maybe even more scared than Will, but he instinctively takes a protective stance, even if it's against a little dumb frog.

"Pussies," Dustin shakes his head at them. His shorts are soaking wet, and there's water running down his legs, splashing on the sand with every step he takes. He looks at the tiny frog with an amused expression. "It's harmless! Frogs can actually exhibit altruistic behavior. They can sacrifice themselves to protect their offspring."

"Really?" Jane says, curiosity plastered all over her face.

"Yeah! It's just a little guy," Dustin's voice goes higher, and he carefully pokes at the frog. "Nothing to be scared of."

"I caught something else," Jane adds, reaching into her pocket.

She pulls out the biggest grasshopper ever. Dustin jumps back with a very loud 'holy shit!'. Jane's eyebrows shoot up, and her eyes sparkle with something else. Something evil. She steps closer, arm outstretched. Dustin keeps his distance.

"Jane, please," he begs, throwing his hands up in the air. He looks absolutely mortified.

Jane ignores his pleas, and starts chasing him all around the beach. The air gets filled with her delighted laugh, and Dustin's screeching. To escape, he ends up running across the deck and jumping back into the water. Max just came back from the camp, stopping at the bottom of the rocky path to look at whatever the hell is going on here. She's carrying the fishing equipment.

"Jesus Christ, I thought someone was dying," Max comments. She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head in disappointment. Lucas practically runs up to her and takes the equipment out of her hands.

"Thank you, baby," Lucas murmurs to her, very quiet and private. He starts peppering kisses all over her face, pulling her closer by her waist, all while Max giggles.

Lucas said it quietly, but Mike and Will still heard it. Mike kind of wishes he didn't. He turns to Will and lowers his sunglasses so they can lock eyes. He mouths 'baby?' with a grimace. Will grimaces back and shrugs. Then they both share a quiet giggle.

The nicknames seem to be a new development with those two. At least around the Party. Mike does not want to imagine what they get up to on their solo hangouts. All the toothache inducing sweetness they do show is already more than enough.

It's sweet, and it makes sense. Lucas and Max are perfect for each other, everyone knows that. Still, Mike can't help but shudder or avert his eyes whenever they start touching up on each other or, god forbid, kissing. He's never been able to put those feelings into words.

His eyes land on Will, expecting the same playfully disgusted reaction, but he doesn't get that. Instead, Will is looking at them with fondness, love, and something else. Something that Mike can familiarize himself with.

___

A few more hours go by. The sky is less vibrant now, slowly filling up with dusty grey clouds. The air feels crispier, but still warm. Lucas and Dustin are trying to fish from the deck while Jane is watching them. Dustin is putting his new 'Bite Me!' lure to use. The others have already gathered their things and went back to camp. Their damp clothes are hung up to dry, the bags laying in one big pile for now.

Max and Will collected enough dry wood to start a small fire and get started on food. So far all they've been going off of is gas station snacks from hours ago, some sandwiches from home and soda. Add exhaustion from swimming for hours on top of that. Not a great combination.

"Did anyone bring booze?" Max asks, rummaging through bags.

"I have wine," Mike speaks up. He's sitting in one of the camping chairs, legs spread wide and head thrown back, looking up at the grey sky.

"How do you have wine?" Max asks.

"Nancy gave it to me. It's in Dustin's tent," Mike shrugs and lazily points his thumb at the tent.

"Are you staying with Dustin?" Max sounds genuinely concerned.

"Yup," Mike says flatly and pops his lips.

"Oh, good luck with that. The snoring and the farting," Max shudders.

"Thank you!" Mike springs up, gesturing at Max. "That's exactly what I said!"

Will laughs at both of them, and walks over to the table, stopping right in front of Mike. He starts unpacking the plastic cups, then feels something, or someone, tugging at the hem of his shorts.

"C'mere," Mike says. He's leaning forward in the chair, almost looking like a long legged spider. His finger is hooked around Will's shorts, tugging at the fabric like a little kid.

"What are you doing?" Will says through a bubbly giggle.

"Come on, Will," Mike whines, not caring about Max's stares.

"Right now?" Will says, shy and unsure, looking over at the lake where their friends are.

"They're gonna be there for another hour, at least. It's fine," Mike continues, nearly begging. His finger is not leaving Will's shorts alone for even a second. His eyebrows are knit together, making his already big eyes look even bigger.

Will rolls his eyes and lets himself get pulled. Mike steers him to stand in between his spread knees, then his hands find their familiar spot around Will's waist. Meanwhile Will's snake their way up to Mike's shoulders. They just stare at each other for a bit, stuck in their own little bubble.

"Sit," Mike whispers, lightly pulling Will down.

"The chair is gonna break," Will argues, though his tone of voice communicates the opposite.

"No, it won't," Mike says simply. It probably will.

"Your hair is a mess," Will says through a breath, tangling one of his hands into the tar black curls.

Mike closes his eyes and leans into the gentle touch, looking like a cat receiving pets. He feels like he's in heaven right now. Nothing else matters, just Will's fingertips in his hair, Will's soft waist under his palms, and his heat.

Max clears her throat. Will flinches, Mike ignores it, his head chasing the touch without him even realizing. Then Max clears her throat again, louder, like she's signalling for something. Will gently swats Mike's hands away from his body and goes back to his previous task. Mike opens his eyes, suddenly feeling cold and empty handed.

He turns his head towards the lake and sees their friends starting to pack up and go back to camp. Mike falls back in the chair with a loud groan that came from the depth of his soul.

"God, you're whipped," Max says, shaking her head.

"Says you," Mike barks back. Then his voice goes very high, mocking. "Thank you, baby! Oh, I love you, baby!"

He makes annoying kissy noises, earning a giggle from Will. That charges him up. He gets up, and starts peppering little kisses all over Will's cheek, while making those same kissy noises.

"Get away from me!" Will swats him away, laughing so hard he has to lean on the table.

All three of them laugh, then as it dies down, something in Max's face shifts. She walks up to the two boys, and her voice goes quiet, serious.

"You haven't told them yet, right?" she asks.

"Actually," Mike leans over the table to get closer to her. His eyes are darting around nervously. "I- I mean, we wanna do it today."

"Yeah?" Max's demeanor changes completely. Her voice softens, along with her face and stance. "When?"

"I don't know yet. When it feels right?" Mike shrugs and looks at Will. He gives him a supportive nod with a warm smile.

That conversation had to be cut short, as the others have returned. Lucas is carrying the equipment, while Dustin is proudly waving around the fish they, surprisingly, managed to catch and already cleaned at the deck. It's not much, and they're not very big, but it's something.

"We got dinner!" Jane announces, nearly hopping up and down from excitement. "I even caught one!"

"Good. I'm starving," Max groans.

Lucas puts the fishing gear down, and goes to the car to retreat everything he needs to cook the fish. Dustin excitedly bangs on the table, getting everyone's attention. His face is beaming with excitement.

"I have a proposition," he says with a cadence of a politician. He would probably climb up on the table, too, if it weren't plastic. "After dinner, who wants to play Truth or Dare?"

Chapter Text

The evening crawls up quickly. The skies are fully grey now, covered by clouds. It looks like the beginning of a storm, but there's no wind, rain or anything of the sort. The air is cold, prickling at skin. Everyone is already wearing their sweatshirts, hoodies and pants. It's quiet, peaceful. All that can be heard is crackling of fire, sizzling of meat and quiet, tired conversations.

"'Expect plenty of sunshine throughout the day, perfect for outdoor activities', my ass," Lucas grumbles to himself, finishing up with the fish. The grill he bought is doing wonders, filling the campsite with delicious smells.

Jane and Dustin are sitting near the bonfire on wooden slabs. Jane showed Dustin how to start a fire more easily, and he showed her how to make campfire potatoes. They prepared them together, tightly wrapped them in foil and put them on the hot coals, away from the flames. Jane is watching them intently, like they might escape if she looks away.

"How long does this take?" she asks, slightly muffled by her palm pressed to her face.

"Like, from thirty minutes to an hour, I think?" Dustin says, stretching and yawning. He lightly nudges Jane's foot with his own, playful. "I don't know, Steve showed me this. He burned them, though."

"How can we tell if it's burnt?" Jane asks, and gets a shrug in response.

"We'll see when we open them. Or if they catch on fire," Dustin says after a pause and stretches his lips into a line. Jane huffs out a laugh.

Will is sitting at the table, lazily scribbling in his sketchbook. He's clearly bored, not actually inspired to draw anything. He just needs something to do with his hands. Mike is watching him. He's sitting next to Will on another camping chair, their knees pressed together under the table.

He doesn't have the energy to hold his head up, so he's laying down, cheek pressed to the tabletop, completely focused on Will's hands. They move across the page in rhythmic movements, unfocused, kind of just spiraling around. The scratching sound it makes is almost soothing.

Max is in her tent, resting. She immediately told everyone to not bother her, and no one dares. Not even Lucas. He flips the fish one last time, and it's finally done.

"Will, can you get me a bowl?" he says, gesturing at Will.

"Yeah, of course," Will closes the sketchbook, grabs the steel bowl off the table and practically runs to Lucas.

Mike watches him leave, pouting. He sneakily reaches for the sketchbook with his pointer finger, and opens it just a little bit. Enough to peek at the page Will was just drawing on. From Mike's angle it kind of just looks like a mess of lines and spirals. When he turns the book the correct way, though, he sees himself, laying on the tabletop. Will somehow managed to capture the mess of his tar black curls perfectly through lazy movements of a pencil. Mike smiles to himself and closes the sketchbook.

Will holds up the bowl for Lucas, already excited to finally eat. Lucas uses a fork to take each piece out of the grill, no less excited.

"Hold the edges, it's gonna get hot," Lucas says, and Will listens, switching his grip from the bottom of the bowl to its edges. Then Lucas turns to Dustin. "Get those potatoes out!"

"I don't know if they're done yet!" Dustin replies, already getting up and poking at the potatoes with a stick he found.

"I don't care!" Lucas hurries, dropping the last piece of fish into the bowl.

Chaos erupts again. Dustin gets the potatoes out, hissing and gasping from the hot foil. Jane grabs everyone plates and utensils. Mike finally pulls out the wine and proudly sets it at the center of the table. Will cuts up some vegetables they brought. Lucas cleans up the grill, then rushes over to his and Max's tent. He carefully unzips it, and crawls inside. He's cautious, almost like he's climbing into a cage with a fierce lion, and not his napping girlfriend.

"Hey, baby. Dinner's ready," he murmurs. His voice is soft and gentle.

Some kissing noises come from the tent, and Mike grimaces. He's back in his chair, chin on the tabletop. Will is standing next to him, fingers excitedly drumming on the table.

"Oh, God," Mike groans after another loud kiss noise and Max's giggles come from the tent. He rolls his eyes and looks up at Will.

"What? It's romantic," Will says fondly.

"It's gross," Mike scrunches his face even more. Will sits down in the chair next to him. Mike's eyes follow the movement.

"Come on, Mike," Will leans closer to Mike's ear. His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. "Don't you wanna be like that, too?"

Will's cheeks go red, and he looks somewhere to the side. Mike turns to him, eyes round. Will's posture is tense. They pause for a few seconds, then Will turns back, giving Mike a few short and sweet glances. He knocks Mike's knee with his own.

"I know I do," he whispers again, lightly rocking back and forth in his chair.

Now Mike's cheeks grow red and hot, and something finally clicks in his brain. Maybe that's what he's been feeling when seeing Max and Lucas being so openly affectionate. That sour taste climbing up his throat, the sudden annoyance. Not wanting to see that, but also not being able to look away. Was it.. jealousy?

Mike sighs and presses his forehead into the tabletop. It helps cool down his burning face. He knocks Will's knee back.

"Me, too," he whispers.

Everyone gathers around for dinner shortly after. It is unusually silent. They're all hungry and tired. Dustin and Jane eat near the fire, 'for the atmosphere', as Dustin put it. Everyone else took the table. Mike and Will are pressing their knees together, and Max is sitting in Lucas's lap. It's quickly getting dark, but the bonfire gives just enough light.

Not that it really matters to them right now. They're eating greedily, like they've been starving for months, like the piece of grilled fish and a baked potato with some salt sprinkled on top is the best meal they've ever had. They don't even talk, the campsite is just filled with greedy chewing. Whenever Dustin tries to start a conversation, everyone nearly growls at him, almost like a pack of wolves. They even forget about the vegetables Will has cut up.

One by one, they finish eating. Mike is the last one, he was taking his time, enjoying the meal. Usually he would've been annoyed by all the chewing noises surrounding him, but he was so hungry he did not care. He leans back in his chair, feeling full. He feels something bubbling up his throat, and just lets it happen.

He burps, slapping his belly like an unmannered barbarian. Everyone groans at him.

"Wow. Thanks for that," Max rolls her eyes and pushes her plate away, even though it's already empty.

"Gross, dude," Lucas adds. Mike just laughs at them.

Will lightly taps him in the ribs, trying to look annoyed, but he's clearly holding back a laugh. Max stares at him, disappointed.

"You're cleaning up," Jane adds, grimacing.

Mike sighs, gathers all the paper plates and plastic utensils, and throws them in the trash. He feels awake again, now that he's had something to eat.

"Thank you for the food," Will says sweetly to Lucas and Dustin. Mike appears behind him and presses his palms to his shoulders.

"What about me? I cleaned up," he leans closer to Will's ear.

"You ruined everyone's appetite," Max glares at Mike, angry.

"You were literally done eating," Mike counters and rolls his eyes.

"Can we play Truth Or Dare now, please?" Dustin pleads.

Everyone moved to the bonfire, with Dustin's insistence. They're sitting around the flames in a tight circle, pressed together and illuminated a soft orange. The world around them is dark. It's like they're in their own little bubble, away from everything else.

The game started off light. They were giving each other pretty normal dares and questions, warming up.

Dustin dared Lucas to jump over the fire. He did it with ease.

Lucas asked Jane what's the strangest thing she's ever eaten. She said a squirrel. Everyone nearly threw up the fish and potatoes from earlier.

Jane dared Will to do a silly dance in front of everyone. He did it, then sat down and folded in on himself, embarrassed.

Will dared Max to speak in a British accent until her next turn. She rolled her eyes, called it stupid, but Dustin protested.

"It's the rules," he said, taking this a little too seriously.

Max looks at Mike. He's been chewing on the inside of his cheek this whole time, eyes glued to the flames in front of him. When he catches Max's gaze, he tenses up, unsure what to expect.

"So, Micheal Wheeler," she starts, doing an awfully exaggerated British accent. She emphasizes it with dramatic head movements. "Truth or dare?"

Mike pauses. His eyes dart around his friends, who are already looking back at him with anticipation. He thinks it over for a second. Truth is usually the safer option, but it feels terrifying right now. He knows how ruthless Max can be, especially towards him. Her big blue eyes on him feel so intense he can barely think.

"Dare," he blurts out eventually. Out of habit he starts nervously picking at his thumb nail.

"Marvelous," Max says, then hums.

A silence stretches between them, broken up by the crackling of fire. Max looks at him, narrowing her eyes, thinking. At first she looks like she's about to give him the most diabolical dare in the history of this game, but then her eyes drop to his nervous fidgeting hands. Her face softens a little.

"I dare you," she stretches. Everyone's eyes widen at her, anticipating, like they're about to find out the roll they got in a campaign. Then Max deflates, dropping the accent. "Do a.. Do a cartwheel."

"Aw, that's underwhelming," Dustin groans, throwing his head back.

"Okay, two cartwheels," Max shrugs.

Her and Mike exchange a glance, filled with gratefulness and understanding. Mike sighs in relief and does the dare, nearly breaking his back.

The second round goes about the same, not diving in too deep and keeping it pretty surface level. Mike dares Jane to do an impression of someone in the group, and the rest have to guess who it is. She does a very exaggerated impression of Mike himself doing the cartwheels less than a minute ago. Everyone guesses immediately and the campsite explodes with laughter.

Jane asks Dustin what he would do if he became invisible for a day. Dustin thinks about it, long and hard, to the point everyone starts groaning and telling him to just spit it out.

"I would haunt the shit out of all of you," he finally says, looking proud.

"Haunt? You'd be invisible, not a ghost," Lucas says flatly, raising an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean," Dustin rolls his eyes. He leans over the fire, and the shadows casting over his face make him look terrifying. "I would follow you around, move your stuff, whisper in your ear, touch you to make you think you're losing your mind."

"Gross," Will jokes, grimacing.

"Yeah," Lucas agrees. "Wouldn't you have to be naked to do that-"

"Anyway, my turn!" Dustin interrupts.

He scans the group, like a predator looking for his prey. His eyes lock on Will.

"William," he says and ominously points his finger at his victim. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Will says through a giggle.

"When was the last time you cried?"

Will's face shifts. His giggles die down, and he looks at the ground. Mike looks over to him, concerned. Something in the air shifts, tenses up. Will is quiet for a few seconds, scratching the side of his neck.

"Today," he says sheepishly. It almost blends in with the crackling of the fire.

"Really?" Dustin asks, voice switching from playful to worried, sincere.

"When?" Max adds.

"At the.. At the gas station," Will explains, sinking into himself a little.

"Did- Did something happen? Are you okay now?" Dustin sounds even more concerned than he already was.

"Yeah. I mean, no, nothing happened. Yes, I'm okay," Will sits up straighter and clears his throat. "I just.. I felt kind of overwhelmed, and it just happened. It was just for a second. I'm okay. I'm great."

"Okay," Dustin says quietly.

This whole time Mike's eyes have been boring a hole into Will's temple. He was waiting for Will to glance over, for them to lock eyes for at least half a second, but it didn't come. Will's eyes were fixed on the fire. Mike couldn't read his expression.

Will turns to Lucas, and dares him to describe everyone in the group with one word. That takes a while. He goes in the order they're sitting in. Dustin gets 'loyal', which was actually pretty sweet. With Jane it was a little more difficult, but ultimately Lucas landed on 'diligent'. She slowly repeated it, tasting it. It felt nice.

Mike immediately gets 'big-headed'. There was no hesitation, no pause, no nothing. He scoffs, offended, while everyone else laughs. Lucas then takes it back and calls him 'trustworthy'. That actually makes Mike's mouth twitch up a bit.

Lucas calls Will 'resilient'. He says it confidently, no second thoughts, like it's a simple fact. Will gives him a flustered smile and nods. Lucas leaves Max for last. She's already looking at him, trying to seem annoyed, but she's grinning and blushing. Lucas gently cups her face, leans in closer until their lips are almost brushing.

"Perfect," he whispers, and connects their lips in a gentle kiss.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Mike groans dramatically, covering his face and turning away. As if they're doing something absolutely disgusting.

"Stop being a baby," Max groans when she separates from Lucas. She lays her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah, don't be jealous 'cause you don't have anyone to kiss," Lucas jokes, looking all smug. It's playful, and he doesn't mean for it to be hurtful, but Mike still tenses up.

"I'm not jealous. You guys are just gross," Mike barks back. It comes out a lot angrier than he planned. He almost wants to take it back, but doesn't.

"Whatever you say," Lucas throws his hands up, then wraps them around Max. "Truth or dare, Mike?"

"Truth."

"Why did you and Jane break up?"

Everyone falls silent. The atmosphere changes completely. Mike looks up at Lucas, tense and nervous. Then he glances over at Jane. She seems.. relaxed, actually.

"Oh, you had that one locked and loaded, huh," Dustin speaks up when the silence gets too awkward.

"I'm just curious! You never actually told us," Lucas explains. He sounds sincere.

"That's.. That's a little intense," Will says sheepishly, finally glancing over at Mike. Mike's jaw tightens.

"But that's the point of the game," Lucas counters, looking at Dustin for support.

"I mean, yeah," Dustin shrugs.

"Okay, if you don't wanna answer, take a drink. How about that?" Lucas proposes.

"That's a different game," Mike mumbles, messing with the hem of his sleeve.

"So? Might as well," Lucas shrugs.

He gets up to grab the wine from the table and a cup. Mike takes them, and pours himself a drink. For a bit he just stares into his trembling, blood red reflection in the cup, thinking. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Will, also a bit tense and scratching at his neck. After the silence gets suffocating, Lucas speaks up again.

"Okay, I can change the question-"

Mike downs his drink in one go. He hisses from the sour taste, and feels it go down his throat. It burns, and he immediately feels his limbs tingling. A drop misses his mouth, going down his chin. He wipes it with the back of his hand and sighs. Everyone looks at him, unsure.

"My turn," Mike says. His voice sounds rough and hoarse.

Him and Max are paired up again, only now he's on the other side. She looks at him with concern. He grabs the bottle and passes it to her.

"Truth or dare?" Mike says. His eyes are glazed over already, the fire reflecting in them.

"Truth."

"Do you regret moving to Hawkins?"

It just slips out before Mike can catch it. He wants to take it back almost immediately. It's too loaded of a question, too early into the game. Everyone goes quiet again.

"No," Max says eventually, shaking her head. She presses closer to Lucas, and he rests his head on top of hers. A soft smile spreads on her face. "I never regretted it."

From there the game intensifies, gets more personal. They did a couple more dares. Dustin was told to take his sweatshirt off for fifteen minutes, so the mosquitos can feast on him. Lucas got dared to do a backflip, and he actually landed it, surprising everyone. They were not aware he could do that. Mike had to scream as loud as he could. He did it, leaving him with a sore throat.

Throughout all of this they kept taking little sips of the wine. Everyone except Lucas, of course. He grabbed himself a soda. Eventually this stopped being Truth Or Dare and turned into Truth Or Drink. At this point everyone was too tired to do any dares. The wine was making them feel light, disconnecting their brains from their mouths. The questions got deeper, more personal.

"So, William," Dustin stretches, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah?" Will says, already nervous.

"Are there any cute boys in New York?"

Will pauses. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His brain feels scrambled, and he tries not to look at Mike. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Max tensing up slightly.

"I mean, probably. It's a big city," Will shrugs. He tries to dodge the question, but it doesn't work, at all.

"You know what I mean," Dustin whines.

"I don't think I do," Will furrows his eyebrows. His cheeks are already bright red, mix of the wine and the awkwardness of this conversation.

"Come on, Will," Lucas joins.

"I don't- I don't know," Will grows frustrated. "I was there for a week. I wasn't looking at.. boys."

"But did you meet anyone? Any new people?" Lucas keeps pressing.

"That's a whole new question," Will says flatly and passes the wine, trying to end his turn.

"Come on, man," Lucas pleads. Will lets out a long sigh.

"I met a few people when looking at art schools. We applied for the same courses, so if I make it, I'll be seeing them a lot. They invited me to hang out. We just.. We just sat in a park for a couple hours, talking, and that's it," Will explains, gesturing around, then shrugs. He tucks his hands deeper into his sleeves.

"But were there any cute boys among them?" Dustin keeps going, now unable to read the room thanks to the wine.

"Can you just drop it?" Mike and Max say at the same time. They look at each other, then awkwardly shift in their seats. Dustin shuts up.

"I want to go next," Jane speaks up, stretching her arm out to take the wine. She takes a sip, grimaces from the taste, then her eyes lock on her target. "Mike."

"Yeah?" he takes the bottle.

"Will you stay in Hawkins?"

Mike pauses. He contemplates just drinking the wine and skipping the question, pushing this away. He looks at the bottle in his hands, then puts it down. His stomach twists into a knot.

"I.. I don't know," he says with a sigh and shrugs. Tears start welling up in his eyes. "Hopefully not."

"Hopefully?" Jane asks gently.

"I don't know," Mike takes a big swig of the wine, hoping it can calm his nerves. His tongue feels heavy, like it's moving on its own. "I don't wanna be stuck there forever, but I have no idea what I wanna do with my life. If there's anything out there for me."

"Of course there is, are you kidding?" Lucas joins in, giving Mike a worried look.

"Yeah," Max nods eagerly.

"What about your writing?" Dustin jumps up in his seat. "You could study that. Major in English, or creative writing. The whole world is yours."

"You can just move, too. Leave the bad memories behind," Jane finishes. Her eyebrows are curved, eyes are glistening from tears and the fire, but she's smiling. Smiling so warm it tugs at Mike's heart.

Mike's hands are shaking, and he's gripping the bottle so hard his knuckles go white. He can't say anything. As soon as he opens his mouth, he'll start sobbing. So instead he swallows, throat contracting around the tears and anxiety, and nods. He shakily passes the bottle and looks down. Beside him he feels Will subtly shift, pressing their arms together.

"Give me a go," Dustin says, making grabby hands at the bottle. He clears his throat before speaking and deepens his voice for dramatic effect. "Lucas Sinclair."

"Yes, sir," Lucas sits up.

"What is.. the dark secret you were hiding.. under your bed?" Dustin says, stretching every word as much as possible, building suspence.

"Oh my God, dude," Lucas groans and throws his head back in frustration. His hands fly around in broad gestures. "It's been years, Dustin! Let it go!"

"What is this about?" Max chimes in, narrowing her eyes.

"Nothing!" Lucas turns to her, palms up in the air. "It's just a.. a stupid inside joke Dustin can't grow up from."

"No, it's not," Dustin says with wide eyes. "Either answer the question, or drink."

"Okay, then I'll drink!" Lucas's voice goes much higher than usual, and he takes a few sips of his soda.

They start arguing about whether or not this is cheating. The mood shifts in a better direction, making the air feel lighter and easier to breathe in. Mike's eyelids burn from the earlier tears, and he feels a headache creeping up on him. A familiar warm palm slides up to his lower back. The pressure is grounding and comforting. Mike glances over at Will, but those green eyes are looking ahead, at their friends. Mike's fingers twitch from how much he wants to hold him.

"Jesus Christ, give me that," Max says through her teeth and snatches the bottle away, ending the argument. She takes a big gulp, then sighs deeply, bracing herself for what she's about to say. "Do you think you'll miss Hawkins?"

Everyone is quiet for a moment. They exchange short confused glances. Will speaks up first. His hand is still pressed up to Mike's back, absentmindedly rubbing circles into the fabric of his hoodie.

"Who.. Who's this question for?" he asks sheepishly.

"Everyone," Max shrugs.

They all sit back, thinking. Mike's mood shifts again. He feels the anxiety crawling up his spine once more, sinking its teeth into his flesh. He focuses on Will's palm, the soft, tender touch.

"I won't," Jane breaks the silence. Her voice is flat, so everyone knows she really means it. No one blames her for that.

"I think I will a little," Dustin adds, slightly rocking back and forth.

"Me, too. Probably," Lucas agrees. He thinks about it a bit more. "Not a lot, though."

"Yeah, me neither," Max joins, snuggling up to Lucas more. Their faces are a mix of sadness and nostalgia.

"Will?" Jane asks quietly.

Will is silent. His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, his eyes are wet and red. He looks like he's holding back tears. He doesn't say anything, just shrugs. His palm leaves Mike's back and lands on the wood between them, pinkie still pressed to Mike's thigh. Max hands him the bottle, but he shakes his head, refusing.

"I don't wanna drink anymore," Will says through a sigh, and a wet chuckle escapes his lips.

Mike is about to cry himself. He can't take it anymore, can't keep sitting next to Will, keeping distance, keeping his hands to himself. It's agonizing. He reaches over to hug Will by the shoulders, and pulls him close. His trembling fingers are pressing hard, bunching up Will's shirt. A little sob escapes Will, but he swallows the rest down. No one questions it.

"I guess then you'll have to answer all of our questions," Dustin half jokes, taking the bottle back and taking another sip. His movements are a bit sluggish already. He gestures around so much that Lucas gets caught in the crossfire a few times.

"Oh, no," Will says sarcastically. He's smiling, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"So.. William," Dustin goes on, leaning over the fire.

"Why do you keep calling me William?" Will asks through a giggle, finally feeling lighter. Dustin presses a finger to his own lips, shushing him.

"My question for you is.. What's your type?"

"Huh?" Will furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. It actually makes his face press into Mike's shoulder for a second, making Mike flinch a little.

"Your type in a guy. You know, for research purposes," Dustin explains simply, voice high.

"Right. Research," Will stretches and slowly nods. He thinks it over for a second, then shrugs.

"You don't know your type?" Lucas joins in.

"I- I mean, I do. I think. But why does it matter to you guys?" Will stutters a bit. His cheeks gain a rosy glow, luckily blending into the orange hue of the fire.

"It's just fun to talk about," Lucas shrugs.

"Yeah!" Dustin pipes up. "I can tell you mine. I like girls who are pretty, and smart, and so so special, and magical, and bright, and creative, and kindhearted, and courageous, and observant, and noble, and radiant-"

He could keep going on and on, until he runs out of adjectives, but Jane playfully kicks him in the ankle, with a flustered smile splitting her face. Everyone chuckles at the two of them. Mike's grip on Will's shoulder tightens.

"Okay," Will sits up straighter, with a mischievous glint behind his eyes. "Are we talking appearance, or personality?"

"Whatever you want," Dustin whispers and props his face up on his hands, shaking with anticipation.

"Right," Will nods, and his lips stretch into a little smirk, barely noticeable. "I like guys who are taller than me, but not too much. Dark hair. Not too muscular. Big hands."

Mike shifts in his seat a little.

"Dark eyes, too. I like dark eyes," Will continues. His body language gets more animated and confident. "I think that's all for appearance. As for personality, I want someone with similar interests to me."

"Like art?" Lucas asks.

Mike tenses up.

"It's not a requirement," Will shakes his head and chuckles. "Just, like, D&D, horror movies. All the nerdy stuff, you know."

Mike relaxes. The corners of his mouth twitch up, and he bites them down.

"I like guys who are nice," Will continues, now fully smiling. "I want him to treat me well, take care of me. That's.. That's nice."

Will goes quiet by the end, nervously scratching his neck. He is blushing up to the tips of his ears. Next to him Mike has to fully bite down on his lips, until they're almost bleeding. Full on smiling would've been less obvious. He can hear Max snort quietly, holding back a laugh.

"Sounds like someone we know very well," Lucas says ominously, igniting a sense of deep panic in both Mike and Will. Then he stands up and flexes, and everyone erupts in laughter. Especially Max. She's laughing so loud it echoes. "What? I'm just saying. I'm pretty tall, I'm nice. Got dark hair and eyes."

"It's not you, Lucas," Will says between giggles, barely managing to get it out. He can barely breathe.

"How could it not be?" Lucas says in a macho voice, switching poses to show off his arms.

"Sorry," Will says sarcastically, wiping actual tears from his eyes.

Slowly the laughter dies down, though Max is still trying to catch her breath. They're not sure what time it is right now. Surely they've passed midnight at this point. It doesn't matter, though. They feel more energized than ever before, and the questions keep coming. Lucas is already sitting back down, limbs draped all over Max.

"Was Tommy like that?" he asks once everyone is finally settled.

"Tommy?" Will's face contorts in genuine confusion, all the playful blush immediately gone. Max and Jane make similar faces, too.

"Or was it Timmy?" Lucas mumbles, turning to Dustin for help.

"No, not that," Dustin ponders, furrowing his eyebrows so hard they almost connect into a single line.

"Tammy," Will says through a sigh. His voice is lower and raspier than usual.

"Right! Yeah," Lucas snaps his fingers, finally recalling the memory. "Was he like that? Was he your type?"

"That's- It's not- Man," Will opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He lets out a little frustrated sound, desperately trying to string together a coherent explanation in his mushy brain. The wine is not helping. "Tammy isn't.. It's not a guy. It's, like, a metaphor. Tammy is a hallway crush, basically. Someone that helped you figure out who you are, but ultimately isn't the person for you. Something like that."

"So.. you had a crush on this.. Tammy guy, but he wasn't like you, so it didn't work out?" Dustin asks slowly, hands moving like he's putting together a puzzle.

"I mean," Will chuckles, and shoots a quick glance at Mike. Even though it's hard to see, just by the facial expression he can tell Mike is blushing hard. That motivates him to keep pressing further. "That's not really what happened. It's- It's hard to explain. I know that's what I said, but at the time I just.. I tried to convince myself that it's the truth."

Mike's grip tightens even more. Will's lips twitch up and he continues talking, playfully swinging his body from side to side.

"Back then I thought that was the case, but.."

"But?" Dustin and Lucas say at the same time, intrigued. Will shrugs, and gives them a grin.

"Oh, come on," Lucas whines.

"You can't just leave it at that!" Dustin adds, throwing his arms up in the air and hitting Lucas in the process.

"You've asked me, like, five different questions! My turn is over!" Will argues, voice high pitched. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

"Just finish your answer!" Dustin pleads. He looks like he's genuinely about to drop to Will's feet and and start begging.

"My turn is over," Will says, firm and final. He shrugs, and his eyebrows quirk up.

"You're no fun, you know that?" Dustin says flatly.

"Just leave it already," Max says through her teeth, snatches the bottle away and kicks Dustin in the ankle. Lucas laughs, then gets kicked, too.

Mike shifts in his seat. He's still holding onto Will for dear life, refusing to let go. Not that Will is trying to escape his grasp, anyway. Mike feels heavy and like he's floating at the same time. His body moves with a delay, and the world around him swims.

"Can I have a go?" he mumbles, stretching his arm out towards Max.

She looks at him. Really looks at him. Her ocean blue eyes look fully orange from the fire, matching her hair. Mike notes, in the very back of his foggy mind, how cool this looks and how he could incorporate that for a future character of his. She looks at him with concern, but ultimately hands over the bottle.

It's almost completely empty now, there's just a little bit of the sour liquid swirling on the bottom. Mike doesn't drink it, though. At this point the bottle has just become a way to indicate whose turn it is to speak. All the original rules of the game are blurring. Mike stares at the bottle, into the dark foggy glass, thinking. He knows what he wants to ask, but it terrifies him. He feels everyone's eyes on him, but especially Will's. The left side of his face feels hot.

"Do you think.. we'll.. Fuck," Mike lets out a frustrated sound.

That feeling again. Being so overwhelmed with nerves and anxiety he can barely string a sentence together. Everyone is patient, infuriatingly so. It makes his bottom lip wobble, but he fights it, pushes through.

"Do you think we'll stay friends after this?"

Mike can practically feel his throat contracting around every syllable, trying to trap them inside. His grip on the bottle tightens. He feels like he's about to break the glass under his fingers. It's silent for a few agonizing moments. Mike doesn't look up. His gaze is glued to the hot, glowing coals near his feet. Everything else blurs around the edges.

"Like.. after this game?" Dustin breaks the silence. He tries to lighten the mood, even lets out a dry huff of a laugh, but it doesn't do much.

"No," Mike closes his eyes and sighs. His whole body slumps forward. Tears collect in the corner of his eye. "I mean.. when the summer is over."

His vision blurs completely. One tear slips down his cheek, and he roughly wipes it away. The silence is deafening. The crackling of the fire tugs at every nerve, every sense. Mike feels Will scoot closer to him, one of his arms wraps around his lower back gently. They're locked together like two puzzle pieces.

"Of course we will," Jane starts. She tries to sound confident, but her voice cracks by the end.

"Yeah," Lucas sits up straighter. His eyes are glistening. "After everything we've been through, we're bonded for life."

"Meeting all of you is the best thing that has ever happened to me," Max says in one breath and laughs. Tears run down her cheeks in hot waterfalls, Lucas gently wipes them away with his thumb. Max looks over at Mike. "Even you, Wheeler."

"Shut up," Mike laughs. It's strained, mixed with a sob, and he's not holding back his tears anymore. Will rubs his back, also laughing through tears.

"I'm gonna call you guys so much you'll be sick of me," Dustin joins. He can barely speak from how hard he's crying. Lucas reaches over and hugs him by the shoulders.

Dustin hugs Jane, she reaches over to grab Mike, and lastly, Max hugs Will, connecting them into one, solid circle. The Party. They look at each other, faces blotchy and snotty, laughing through their tears. The contact is solid, familiar and so, so comforting. It's filled with trust, hardships, happiness, but most importantly, love. Slowly, their breathing settles.

"I love you guys so much," Will breaks the silence. As soon as he says it, his entire face contorts, and he starts sobbing again. Everyone else follows.

Mike wraps both his arms around him, hugging him tight. Will tucks his face into the curve of Mike's neck, gasping from tears. His palms are on Mike's back, bunching up the fabric of his hoodie. He is squeezing so hard, like Mike might disappear if he lets go. Mike is lightly rocking them back and forth while patting Will's back.

Before he knows it, his hand slides up along the curve of Will's spine, and right into the short chestnut hair. It's so gentle, and he can't bring himself to care about being 'obvious' right now.

Max's palm rests on Will's knee, rubbing comforting circles into it. Lucas is resting his head on top of hers, pressing her close. On the other side of him Dustin is clinging to his arm, and using Lucas's sleeve to wipe his tears. Lucas doesn't even complain about it. Jane is fully leaning on Dustin, head resting on his shoulder. They're all trying to calm their breathing, lightly gasping from crying.

"Should we keep playing?" Jane says eventually, and everyone chuckles.

"Fuck it," Max shrugs.

"Are we still doing Truth Or Dare?" Will asks sheepishly, slowly peeling himself away from Mike. Mike keeps his hands on him, though.

"I don't know anymore," Dustin cackles.

"That's 'cause you keep changing the rules," Lucas elbows Dustin in the ribs. They all laugh, and the air feels lighter.

They start the dares again, and go easy on each other. More impressions, dumb accents, trying not to blink for as long as possible, dancing in front of everyone. Max dared Jane to fill her mouth with water, and try not to spit it out while the rest of the Party try to make her laugh for one minute.

She held that up for a while. The rest were making jokes, doing funny voices, even tried to tickle her, but she didn't budge. That is, until Mike stood up to make a joke, tripped over a rock and nearly fell face first on the ground. That got her. The water sprayed straight out of her mouth.

"Was that a minute?" Dustin asks, scratching his head.

"I don't know," Jane says through a laugh, water running down her chin and soaking into her sweatshirt.

"Did anyone even time it?" Max adds, holding her stomach from how hard she's laughing.

"No," Will shakes his head, nearly cackling. He reaches out to grab Mike's hand and helps him stand back up.

"I need to change," Jane stands up, pinching the wet fabric away from her body. It's already cold and feels uncomfortable. She retreats to her tent.

Meanwhile, everyone sits back around the fire, letting out the last of their giggles. It is definitely very late now. They're surrounded by complete darkness, the air is crispy and the stars are shining in the sky like delicate glitter. The exhaustion slowly creeps up on them, and they start yawning and stretching, one by one.

"Should we wrap up?" Lucas says mid a jaw cracking yawn. His voice is low and groggy.

"Can we.. um," Mike pipes up. He awkwardly clears his throat when everyone's eyes snap towards him. He gives Will a glance. Will looks back at him, then lightly nods. Barely noticeable. "Can we do one more round? Just questions?"

"Sure, yeah," Dustin nods, then looks at Max and Lucas, checking. Everyone agrees. Jane joins in, sitting in her previous spot.

"Okay," Mike sighs, collecting his thoughts. His hands are trembling, and he hides them in his sleeves. "Um.. Who wants to go first?"

"I can," Dustin's hand shoots up so fast Mike can barely finish his sentence. Then he points at Will.

"Okay, I'm starting to feel a little targeted," Will says playfully, narrowing his eyes.

"Last round. And you have to answer no matter what," Dustin points his finger at Will, his voice is as serious as he can manage in his tipsy state.

"Okay," Will says through a sigh. He can already guess where this is going.

"This Tammy person.. Is it someone we know?"

Will's whole body tenses up. Mike can feel it, though he's desperately trying not to see it. His eyes are looking ahead, and it takes all his strength to keep them there. He feels Jane's and Max's eyes on him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard he can feel it in his ears.

"Um.. I- I mean," Will starts, stuttering. He keeps opening and closing his mouth, but nothing coherent is coming out.

He feels something touching him. He subtly looks down, and sees Mike's pinky pressing into his thigh, right out of everyone's sight. His breathing slows down, steadies. Mike isn't looking at him, eyes still focused on something ahead, his other hand is covering his mouth, but he nods. Just a tiny bit. It's easy to miss with the trembling orange light from the fire, but Will sees it. Mike just gave him the go-ahead. Will swallows, then talks again.

"Yeah. Yeah, you know him."

He nods, and feels his face growing hot. It felt so nice to finally say it, after years and years of only dreaming about it. Even if it's not direct confirmation yet. Everyone pipes up, smiling. Lucas and Dustin are rubbing their hands together like cartoon villains. Lucas speaks up first.

"Can we guess who-"

"Ah," Will interrupts, pointer finger in the air. "That was my final question. No more."

Lucas and Dustin deflate and whine some more. In the chaos Will slipped his hand away to put it on top of Mike's. They share a short, warm glance. Mike turns away and huffs out a laugh, flustered.

"Max," Will continues. "What is something that Lucas does that you don't like?"

No one even has time to register and react to the question before Max gives her answer.

"Snore."

She said it easily, without a second thought. Dustin snorts, then belly laughs. It echoes between the trees and even spooks a few sleepy birds. Lucas turns to Max with wide eyes.

"Do I?" he asks, looking absolutely mortified.

"You do, babe," Max whispers, face scrunched up in a guilty expression. She pats his arm, comforting.

"I mean, it could've been much worse," Mike adds, shrugging.

"You would know," Jane blurts out.

Everyone's heads slowly turn to her, bewilderment plastered all over their faces. Jane looks back at them with her big doe eyes, like she's confused about their reactions. Then the corners of her lips twitch up.

"It was a joke. I mean, not really. It's true," she explains, then shrugs.

"Can you.. elaborate on that?" Lucas says carefully, mischief glistening behind his eyes. Max bumps him in the arm. "If you want."

Jane presses her lips together, thinking. Her eyes land on Mike, silently asking for permission. He nervously shifts in his seat, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, and nods. Jane takes a deep breath before she speaks.

"We were not compatible. We couldn't love each other how we wanted, and it took us too long to realize that," she says simply. Her voice is steady, confident. There is no sadness or anger in it. She's just saying it how it is, and shrugs.

"That's.. really vague," Lucas whispers, furrowing his brows. Jane gives him another shrug.

"We work better as friends," Mike cuts in. He can't sit still, nervously shifting around, desperately clinging to all the touches and heat Will is giving him like it's a lifeline. "I tried to deny it, not think about it. I just.. I pretended that everything was perfect, when it wasn't. It wasn't at all."

"Me, too," Jane nods slowly. She purses her lips, rocking back and forth slightly. "I lied to Mike about my life in California, and I hurt Will while doing that. I'm sorry."

She looks at Will, and he gives her a warm smile. His eyes are glistening from tears, eyebrows curved together. Jane sniffles, tearing up, too. They've had this conversation countless times before, but it still stings every time.

"We were all hurting each other," she continues, staring deep into the fire that's now slowly starting to fade.

"It was mostly my fault- No, it was my fault," Mike stutters. His bottom lip wobbles violently, his voice shakes, but he keeps going. No running away from this anymore. "I.. I couldn't tell Jane that I loved her. Fuck, I couldn't even write it down in a goddamn letter."

His gaze is glued to the flames, but he feels everyone's eyes burning holes in him. He's too terrified to look up. Will squeezes his hand, showing that he's right here with him, just as promised. Mike squeezes back, and his lips twitch up into a weak smile.

"I was a huge asshole," he continues, trying to keep his voice steady. "And I was so, so confused about everything, about myself. Honestly, the breakup was long overdue."

"Yeah," Jane nods along. Mike looks over to her and they exchange knowing smiles. He feels lighter.

"I'm sorry. For everything," Mike whispers, and for once his chest doesn't tighten up at it. He can breathe fully, his heartbeat is fast, but not from fear. Jane gives him a nod of both forgiveness and ecouragement.

Mike looks over at Will, who was already staring back. The trembling flames reflect in his eyes, making them look golden, almost magical. His eyebrows are curved, and lips are pressed into a crooked smile. He's trying to hold his tears back. Mike's eyes scan his entire face. One eye, then the other, dive down to look at his lips, the mole above them, lift back up to the slope of his nose and the curve of his eyebrows.

He catches Max's gaze. She's looking at him warmly, no sarcasm or teasing like usual. She's genuine, giving him courage with just her eyes. He can't bring himself to look at Lucas and Dustin right now. Instead, he takes a deep, steadying breath.

"I was so confused because.. this whole time, I loved someone else, but was too blind and stupid to realize it."

Mike doesn't wait for any response or questions. He exchanges one last glance with Will, who gives him a nod. It's a small, barely noticeable movement, but it gives Mike all the courage he needs. He interlaces their fingers, confident and sure, and brings their connected hands to his knee. Suddenly words die out in his throat, and he feels sobs bubbling up, so he hopes this is enough to convey the message.

Will bites down on his bottom lip, flustered. He's clinging to Mike's hand, squeezing so hard his knuckles go white. Mike's hand is trembling, Will can feel it. He can also feel the other boy's rapid pulse, a constant vibration against his skin.

Lucas and Dustin are quiet at first, taking this in. They don't look angry, or disgusted, just surprised. Their mouths are slightly open, eyebrows are raised. After the silence goes on for a little too long, both Max and Jane bump them, ripping them out of this trance.

"Can you say something?" Max hisses.

"S- Sorry, we're just.. surprised," Lucas mumbles, still not fully present.

"Yeah," Dustin nods slowly. His face relaxes, one feature at a time. Eyebrows take their default position, eyes narrow down, mouth closes. "This is.. new."

There's another pause. Mike shifts in his seat awkwardly, throat still closed shut. He feels Will gently rub his knuckles, and it helps him relax enough to finally talk.

"Like.. bad new?" Mike says, voice cracking.

"No! Of course not," both Lucas and Dustin say at the same time, nearly jumping out of their seats.

"How.. How long?" Dustin asks carefully.

"My whole life, I think?" Mike answers, misunderstanding the question. Everyone chuckles.

"No, how long you two have been together," Lucas corrects. Mike's face becomes crimson red in a blink of an eye, visible even in the orange glow.

"A month," Will answers, not even trying to hide the giddy grin spreading on his face.

"Just a month?!" Dustin and Lucas practically yell out, scrunching their faces.

"Damn, dude. You are slow," Lucas jokes, earning an elbow to the ribs from Max. It's playful, though. It's not like she disagrees.

"Yeah, I know," Mike nods and lets out a wet, strained laugh. Can't deny that.

"A lot of things make sense now," Dustin mumbles more to himself than everyone else, just saying his thoughts out loud.

"Yeah, you two have been more.. happy lately. Especially you," Lucas adds and looks at Mike. He's smiling so hard his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"We are happy," Will whispers, looking up at Mike. It practically sends sparks flying between them.

Will can finally fully lean on Mike, without worry. He puts his head on his shoulder, presses his full body against him, sharing warmth. Mike's head rests on top of his, and they connect like two pieces of a puzzle, lining up perfectly. Then Dustin lets out a short gasp, like he just realized something.

"Wait. Holy shit. Mike was your Tammy. You were talking about Mike," he says in one breath, looking at the two with wide eyes, like he just made a scientific discovery.

"Let's just.. Just forget Tammy," Will giggles and waves a dismissive hand. "He was never Tammy. Just Mike."

Mike smiles wider at that, and has to hide his face in his free hand, flustered. Their friends look at the two of them, eyes full of love and care. Then something clicks for Lucas and Dustin at the same time, and they look at the girls, confused. This whole time they have been quietly observing, with knowing smiles beaming off their faces.

"You two don't look very surprised," Lucas says slowly, narrowing his eyes in playful suspicion.

"Maybe we already knew," Max says, sounding smug. Lucas gasps dramatically.

"Did you know?" Dustin turns to Jane.

"I was the first," Jane replies, very proud. She wiggles her eyebrows playfully, and her smile somehow goes wider than it already was, until her eyes are pretty much closed shut.

Some more dramatic gasps escape Lucas and Dustin, but it's playful, purposefully exagerrated. Mike can finally breathe out. His heartbeat steadies. It's still a little faster than normal due to his boyfriend clinging to him, but at least he doesn't feel like he's about to keel over and die from a heart attack.

Mike feels a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders, like he's been standing on the edge of a cliff, barely hanging on, and got pulled back. He buries his nose in Will's chestnut hair, smelling like the woods and smoke, and kisses the crown of his head. It's warm, reassuring. Will melts into the touch.

"I guess that's the game," Max speaks up, slapping her knees and standing up. She groans as she does so, muscles sore from sitting down for hours at this point.

Everyone else follows. They grab their flashlights, clean up as much as they have the energy to. Jane is the first to retreat to her tent, yawning and stretching. She warmly wishes everyone goodnight and falls asleep almost immediately. Max follows soon after. She wanted to help clean up, but Lucas urged her to go and rest.

Mike started putting the fire out, still feeling a little delirious. He feels a warm, solid palm on his shoulder. It's Lucas. Before Mike can properly react, he gets pulled into a hug. He immediately melts into it, wrapping himself around Lucas's solid frame. He feels protected, even though he's the taller one out of the two.

"Come here," Lucas mumbles, gesturing at Will and Dustin.

The two join, tangling their arms together, heads pressing to shoulders. Will hops into the hug, unable to contain his happiness even though he's tired. The four stay like this for a bit. This feels oddly nostalgic. It's been a while since they shared a group hug like this, where every single one of them is happy and present in the moment.

Will yawns deeply, a little squeaky sound escapes him, making everyone laugh and break the hug.

"I'll go now," he rubs his eyes with a flustered smile on his face. "Goodnight."

Before he leaves, Mike pulls him closer by his waist and kisses him on the forehead. Can't resist it. Will giggles.

"Goodnight, Will," Mike whispers like it's the last words he will ever say.

"Goodnight, Mike," Will whispers back, voice fond and loving.

Will goes to his tent, and Mike lets his hand linger on him for as long as possible. He watches Will climb into the tent, and only looks away when he zips it up. Dustin and Lucas are already looking back at him with fond smiles on their faces. Mike awkwardly clears his throat and scratches the side of his neck.

"Sorry," he mumbles. His cheeks are bright red.

"No, no. It's okay," Dustin immediately reassures, palms up in the air.

"Yeah," Lucas joins and nods eagerly. "You guys don't have to, like, hold back around us. We're not gonna think it's gross, or weird or anything."

"Yeah, you and Max take the cake on that," Dustin grumbles and rolls his eyes. Lucas shoves him in the shoulder, laughing.

"Shut the fuck up. Go to bed, man," Lucas playfully scolds him, gesturing at the neon orange tent.

"Whatever," Dustin rolls his eyes one more time and turns to Mike. "You coming?"

"Uh, I'll help Lucas clean up. I'll be right there," Mike answers, voice light and relaxed for once.

Dustin slightly stumbles over to him and claps him on the shoulder. The two exchange a smile and a nod, and Dustin leaves, disappearing into the neon orange fabric that almost looks like it's glowing, even in the late night darkness.

Mike goes back to putting the fire out, stomping over the remaining heat. It's probably not a good idea, and he's getting his sneakers all dirty, but they're old and worn out anyway. Lucas is shining his flashlight to help Mike see better. Mike glances up at him a few times, and his mouth keeps opening to say something.

"Hey, um," he manages after about four tries. "Sorry for telling you guys last."

"Don't," Lucas replies without skipping a beat. He puts his palm out, stopping Mike. Then he smirks. "You just left us for dessert."

"I guess," Mike huffs out a laugh, landing one last stomp to the bonfire.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier. You know, about you being jealous," Lucas says, voice smaller than before.

"It's okay. You didn't know," Mike shakes his head. Then his face scrunches. "Plus, you weren't totally wrong."

"Right," Lucas says more to himself than to Mike. He scratches the back of his head. "I mean it, though- Not the 'you being jealous' part, but that you and Will don't have to restrict yourself around us."

"Okay," Mike breathes out, nodding. Lucas sits down on the wooden slab with a sigh. Mike mirrors him.

"I know Max and I can be.. a lot. But it's because we feel safe with you guys, you know?"

"Yeah," Mike says, barely above a whisper. It's still loud enough in the deafening silence surrounding them.

"When we're in public, we get stared at. All the time," Lucas rubs his eyes. "Some old assholes have even yelled at us, or at me. So we try not to do too much around other people."

Mike's eyebrows twitch, curving in worry. His leg is shaking, he can't help it.

"I know it's not the same thing, but," Lucas continues. He presses his lips together and furrows his eyebrows, thinking, picking words. "But I can imagine how it is for you guys, you know? So, just remember that you're safe with us, okay? We love you. We all do. Always have, and always will."

Mike's vision blurs. He blinks the tears away. He's surprised he even has any left after all the crying he's done tonight. Despite that, he smiles, warm and wide, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. Lucas's eyes are glistening, too. They chuckle at each other. It's wet and snotty and gross, but they feel over the world. Lucas gives Mike one last solid pat on the shoulder.

"Goodnight, buddy," he says softly and stands up, stretching his sore back.

"Goodnight, Lucas," Mike whispers into the darkness.

He stays there for a few seconds, then stands up, too. Suddenly the exhaustion hits him like a truck, with nothing to distract him. His head is throbbing, eyelids are burning and his face feels tight from all the dried tears on his skin. He can't see it, but he's sure his face is swollen. It definitely feels like it.

His bones feel like they're made of jello and cement at the same time. Eventually, he makes it into the tent. It's clumsy and sluggish. With a trembling weak hand he zips up the tent. Dustin is already out cold, steadily snoring into his pillow.

Mike unfolds his sleeping bag that he was too lazy to set up during the day. It's a difficult task in complete darkness, but he manages and plops onto it face first. His pillow is cold, somewhat soothing him. His head feels heavy, and every single muscle in his body relaxes immediately.

He's not comfortable by any means. His worn down sleeping bag does pretty much nothing to soften the rough ground. Dustin's snoring feels like a drill to his eardrums, but Mike is so exhausted that all of it fades into the background. He feels like a used dish rag squeezed dry. His eyelids fall closed, and he quickly drifts away to sleep.

___

When Mike wakes up, it's still dark out. He's not sure what awakened him. Not a nightmare, not a sudden noise or a kick from Dustin. It just happened. He tries to fall back asleep, but he just can't, no matter how much he twists and turns.

He isn't sure how long he actually slept. Five minutes, five hours, it honestly could even be five days at this point with how exhausted he felt. Eventually, he just lays on his back, staring ahead. The bright orange fabric surrounding him is about to give him a new headache, combined with Dustin's snoring. In between the snores, though, Mike hears something else.

He sits up, trying to focus on the sound. It's something familiar. Sounds like murmuring at first, then it gets louder. Mike's stomach drops.

"Will," he whispers into the darkness, untangling from the sleeping bag as quickly as he can.

In the process he accidentally kicks Dustin, waking him up. Dustin curses at him, but Mike doesn't hear. He doesn't hear or see anything besides Will, and how distressed he sounds. Mike practically rips out of the tent, scrambling up to his feet. He doesn't bother pulling his shoes on, running to the other tent in just his socks.

"Will! Will, are you okay? Will!" he keeps screaming out frantically without him even realizing. His voice cracks.

The closer he gets, the louder Will's screams become. It only motivates Mike to go faster. With shaking hands he unzips the tent, and dives inside. There was Will, with his knees pressed up to his chest. He has wet tracks running down his cheeks, and his nose is red and shiny. Jane is next to him, holding him by the shoulders. One of their flashlights is on, illuminating the entire tent.

"Will," Mike breathes out. It sounds like he just got punched in the stomach.

"Mike," Will whispers, practically lunging at Mike and pulling him into a hug.

He tucks his face into Mike's neck and desperately clings to him. Mike presses him close, no hesitation. He pats the back of Will's head gently, then moves lower, to the back of his neck. Will sighs at the touch. Mike glances over at Jane. Her eyebrows are knit together, worried, but it looks like this isn't new for her.

The others gather around the tent shortly after, out of breath and frantic with flashlights in hand. Will slowly pulls away from Mike, sniffling and wiping his tears away. Mike cups his cheek and gets all the tears he missed.

"What happened?" Max breaks the silence. Her hair is a mess of red tangles, tied together into a ponytail for bed.

Will looks over at all their friends and sighs, embarrassed. He hides his face in his hands.

"I'm okay. It was just a nightmare. Sorry for waking all of you up," he mumbles, curving his eyebrows.

"Oh, no. That was Mike," Lucas says flatly, without missing a beat. The others nod.

A few chuckles can be heard, but Mike doesn't hear it. All his attention is on Will, scanning his face. Everything else is a blur, an echo. His hand has slid down from Will's cheek to his neck, thumb rubbing comforting patterns into the tan skin. Will looks back at him, and his face softens.

"I'm okay, Mike," he whispers, quiet and private.

"You sure?" Mike whispers back, and his eyebrows curve more. He leans down to get more eye level with Will.

"Yeah," Will huffs out a laugh and nods.

They keep looking at each other, whispering and clinging. Max nods at Jane, and she crawls out of the tent. Then Max bumps Lucas in the arm, signaling. It takes Lucas a second, but then it clicks. He turns and shines his flashlight straight into Dustin's face.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Dustin grumbles, scrunching up his entire face and trying to turn away from the beaming light.

"I need a piss," Lucas scrambles for an excuse.

"Okay?" Dustin stretches, covering his eyes with his hand. He tries to swat Lucas away, but he persists.

"Come on, man," Lucas says through his teeth.

"I'm not pissing with you! Get out of my face," Dustin groans, agitated.

The voices get muffled, distant. Mike shifts closer, until he can feel Will's shaky breaths on his lips. His heart is still hammering hard against his ribs. It feels like it will bruise later. His breathing is uneven from practically running to the tent, and his face is flushed. Will cups his cheek, fingertips tracing all the sharp corners of his face.

"Do you.. um," Mike starts, voice cracking. Will looks at him through his lashes and Mike forgets how to think or speak for a second. He clears his throat. "Do you wanna go down to the lake?"

"Sure. Yeah," Will nods eagerly.

He peels away from Mike to grab the long sleeve shirt from earlier. He took it off before going to sleep. It takes him no more than two seconds to pull it on over his head. When he's done, he locks eyes with Mike, holding onto the hem of his own hoodie. They just look at each other for a bit, mouths slightly open.

"What?" Will asks innocently.

"I was gonna give you my hoodie," Mike mumbles, slouching forward until his forehead is pressed into Will's sleeping bag.

"Oh," Will giggles, then grabs the hem of his shirt, about to pull it back off. "Sorry."

"No, keep it on," Mike grabs Will's wrist, stopping him.

"Okay," Will sighs, grinning.

"Next time."

"Right. Next time."

When they climb out of the tent, everyone is gone. There are some lights coming from the bushes a little further away. Must be Lucas and Dustin. Mike remembers about his shoeless feet when he steps on a particularly sharp rock, hissing.

"Fuck. Give me a sec," Mike whispers to Will.

He clumsily walks over to retreat his sneakers. He tugs them on, almost losing his balance and falling over in the process. Meanwhile Will grabs the flashlight from his tent and shines it for Mike, helping. Once he's done, Mike stretches his hand out, and Will gladly takes it.

They go down the rocky path. Mike keeps repeating 'careful' and 'don't trip' every five seconds. The path is softly illuminated by the moonlight bleeding through the trees. The wind is quietly whispering around them. When they get to the beach, Will turns the flashlight off. The moon is so bright they can see everything perfectly down here.

The lake is still, reflecting the sky like a perfect mirror. Mike drags Will through the sand, right to the wooden deck. Will follows without question, grinning the whole time. Mike looks down at the water, pursing his lips in thought. He lets go of Will's hand and starts tugging his shoes off, along with his socks.

"What are you doing?" Will asks, a little concerned.

"I wanna dip my feet in the water," Mike explains, now rolling his sweatpants up to his knees.

"Mike, it's probably cold. You'll get sick."

Mike makes a little 'eh' sound, and sits on the edge of the deck. The boards creak beneath his weight, and he dips his feet in, disturbing the perfectly still surface. It actually feels warm. The water has soaked up the sun during the day, and in contrast with the cold night air it feels nice and comfortable, even to Mike.

"It's great," he turns back to Will, smiling.

Will sighs, but then starts tugging his own shoes off, too. Mike is swinging his feet back and forth, watching his reflection tremble and distort. Shortly, Will sits down next to him, pressing their shoulders together. He softly dips his feet in the water, barely affecting the surface. Always so gentle in everything he does.

Mike reaches to hook their pinkies together. Will smiles wider at that. They look up at the moon peeking out from the clouds. Mike, however, can't keep his eyes on it for long. His gaze drifts to Will. His profile is illuminated beautifully, and Mike can't tear his eyes away from him. His fluffy lashes are highlighted, looking even longer than they already are. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and Mike follows the movement.

"It's pretty out here," Will whispers. He's taking in the view. The slightly trembling lake, the field on the other side, the trees. He would love to paint this, already thinking about the colors he'd need for it.

"Yeah, it is," Mike whispers back, eyes fixed on Will.

Will eventually turns his head, and sees Mike's eyes already locked on him. He blushes and turns away, too flustered to keep eye contact.

"What?" he says through a laugh.

"Nothing," Mike shrugs, then reaches over to hug Will by the waist, pulling him closer. Will immediately rests his head on Mike's shoulder and puts his palm on his thigh.

Something tugs at Mike's heart. He feels light and happy and in love, but then he sees Will's trembling hand. He's still getting over the nightmare he just had. Mike bites the inside of his cheek. He wants to wrap around Will like a blanket, shield him on all sides and protect him from all the bad of this world. It's like a primal urge. It makes his limbs tingle and twitch involuntarily.

He gives in, only instead of wrapping around Will they just slightly switch their positions. Some shuffling later, and Will is sitting in between Mike's spread knees, and Mike is pressed up against his back. Mike's arms are wrapped around Will's waist, palms locked together. Will is absentmindedly tracing every curve of Mike's long pale fingers. Their legs tangle underwater. This feels better, satisfies Mike's protective urges at least a little.

"I didn't know you still had nightmares," Mike breathes out, chin resting on Will's shoulder.

"They're not as frequent anymore," Will starts, voice low and more raspy than usual. He's so tired. "I think they get triggered by.. stuff."

Mike hums, thinking. He furrows his brows, then it clicks.

"Like the woods?"

"Yeah. That's probably one of them," Will whispers after a brief pause. His fingertips glide along Mike's bony knuckles.

"Is that why you've been so.. uneasy all day?" Mike asks carefully. He's trying to meet Will's eyes, but he's looking somewhere ahead. At nothing in particular.

"Yeah. Sorry-"

"Don't be sorry," Mike interrupts, pressing Will closer. "Don't apologize for that."

"Okay," Will breathes out , lightly nodding.

"Are you okay now?"

"Yeah. Totally," Will's voice goes higher, and he nods more eagerly. He tilts his head back to rest against Mike. "I don't even remember what it was about. They just.. fade as soon as I wake up, but the fear is still there, you know?"

"Yeah," Mike whispers, and places a feather light kiss to Will's shoulder. "What do you do when you get them?"

"Jane is always there when I wake up. It's like she.. Like she can feel it. And.. I think I do, too. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, and something just tells me to go check on her. Then we sit and talk until we fall asleep."

"That's good. I mean, that you have someone there with you," Mike says, muffled by the fabric of Will's shirt.

"Yeah," Will's lips stretch into a weak smile. He titls his head to press it against Mike's. "Do you have them?"

"I'm pretty sure we all do," Mike tries to make it into a joke and even lets out a dry chuckle. It doesn't work, though.

"But do you?" Will presses.

"Sometimes," Mike mumbles and shrugs. He feels Will stiffen in his arms.

"What are they about?"

Mike pauses, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He's never talked about this with anyone, or even let himself think about it too much. He could back out, steer the conversation somewhere else. He knows Will won't push. He also knows that Will won't judge. Mike takes a sharp breath.

"A lot of.. things," he starts, picking at his thumb nail. "Us losing the battle, everyone dying. Me not being able to save anyone. To save you."

He presses Will closer, until there isn't even a molecule of space left between them. Will holds his breath, and Mike can feel his rapid heartbeat.

"I see you a lot," Mike whispers. His voice cracks, and his vision start blurring around the edges.

"Mike.."

"I see you screaming in pain, I see your body getting pulled out of the lake," Mike choked up on his tears, shoulders shaking. Will interlaces their fingers, squeezing hard.

"Hey," Will whispers, turning enough to see Mike's face. Mike looks up at him, eyebrows curved and eyes red.

Will gently cups his face and presses a kiss to his forehead. Mike exhales, relaxing. Will is sitting sideways in his arms, studying his face.

"Do you get them a lot?" Will asks carefully. Mike shrugs.

"Depends, I guess."

"And what do you do when you get them?"

Mike shrugs again. Will's eyebrows curve more, and he sits up straighter. He looks at Mike with concern. Mike tries to turn away, but Will cups his face again, steering him back.

"Mike," Will breathes out.

"I woke up Nancy a few times," Mike shrugs again. His eyes are glassy. "She sat with me. Usually I just.. I don't know. I read a comic or something."

"You should call me when you have them," Will says, firm and determined.

"Will," Mike sighs.

"Mike."

"I don't wanna wake you up-"

"I don't care," Will interrupts. He presses closer to Mike, until their noses are almost brushing. "I don't care how early or late it is. Call me. Okay?"

"Okay," Mike deflates. His lips stretch into a lazy smile.

Will pulls him closer and kisses him. It's gentle, just a reassuring, warm press of lips. They close their eyes, savoring the moment. It's quick, and they separate with a soft sound. Mike's mouth twitches up into a mischievous smirk.

"I have some good dreams, too," he starts.

"Yeah?" Will whispers, now also smiling.

"Yeah," Mike nods, and leans down to press his face into Will's cheek, peppering little kisses all over it as he talks. "I see you, when you got your powers."

"Oh my God," Will scoffs, rolling his eyes. The kisses tickle, making him giggle and squirm against Mike.

"You were so badass. You saved my life. You looked so.. So goddamn perfect. So beautiful. I'll never forget that, Will."

"I was covered in blood, grime and sewer water," Will tries to sound annoyed, but fails miserably. Mike only shrugs.

Will has had enough of the teasing cheek kisses. He turns to face Mike, and catches his lips with his own. This kiss is wilder. Their mouths are moving in unison, hands get tangled in hair and bunch up shirts. The sounds of their mouths colliding practically echo in the deafening quiet of the lake.

"I love you so much, Will. More than anything," Mike says into the kiss, and Will swallows it, tasting and savoring every word.

Will pulls his feet out of the water and pretty much sits on Mike's lap. He gets Mike's sweatpants wet in the process, but neither of them cares right now. They both smile and giggle into the kiss, having to stop multiple times and start over. It's clumsy, but so them. Mike presses his lips to Will's one last time, then separates, keeping their forehead connected. They're both panting, but so satisfied.

"I never told you how I got them," Will says in between deep breaths. Mike gives him a confused look, his mind still floating somewhere far away. Will scoffs. "The powers."

"Oh," Mike blinks slowly like an idiot. Will laughs at him.

"I.. I thought of people that I loved. That made me feel loved."

Mike just looks at him for a few seconds, completely starstruck. Will's illuminated silhouette looks like he's actively descending from the Heavens right now. Mike wouldn't mind dying like this, if this was the angel taking him to the other side.

"Was.. I.. there?" Mike asks slowly, stretching every word. He's forgotten how to speak properly. Will laughs at him again, so hard his whole body is shaking.

"Maybe," Will rolls his eyes, then rests his head on Mike's shoulder. "You were the first."

"Really?" Mike's eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

"Yeah. Of course you were," Will says fondly. Tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, reflecting the moon. "I thought of the swings, your basement, us playing together."

"Woah," Mike breathes out, unable to say anything else. His breath hitches, and he feels the sobs climbing up his throat.

"My mom and Jonathan were there, too. Don't let it get to your head," Will says sarcastically and chuckles. He cups Mike's cheek and wipes away the tear dangling on his lash line.

"Shut up," Mike laughs and tucks his face into Will's fluffy hair, a little messy from sleep. Another tear slips out, soaking right into the chestnut strands. "Meeting you was the best thing I've ever done, Will. I mean it."

"I know you do," Will's voice wobbles. "I think I've loved you since that day."

"You're gonna kill me," Mike whines when another wave of tears washes over him. He leans back, wiping them away as fast as he can. They both laugh, even though their heads hurt from all the crying they've done during this trip.

Mike covers his red blotchy face with his hands, trying to hide. Will gently swats them away, no matter how much the other boy tries to fight.

"Let me see you."

That's all it takes for Mike to obey. He wraps his arms around Will's waist again, like they belong there. Will cups his face so gently Mike practically melts into a puddle on the spot. They look at each other, eyes glassy and red, but so happy. Will presses their lips together one more time, then another. They're so tired it's all they can do.

"We should go back," Will says, stretching his lips into a line.

"Probably, yeah," Mike nods lazily. He really doesn't want to. He could stay here like this forever, but he also doesn't want to get eaten alive by mosquitos.

They clumsily stand up. Will's feet are already dry, while Mike's splash water all over the wooden boards. Will pulls his socks and shoes back on. Mike just grabs his, then takes Will's hand. They slowly walk back up to the camp, dragging their tired feet.

The camp is quiet. Everyone is already asleep. Mike and Will give each other a goodnight kiss, then reluctantly separate. When Mike reaches his tent, he's surprised to see not only Dustin, but Lucas. The two are a mess of tangled limbs, both snoring in unison. Mike freezes in place, incredibly confused.

When Will opens his tent, he finds it empty. Jane isn't inside, as well as her purple floral sleeping bag. In its place is a familiar navy blue bag. Will furrows his eyebrows and looks over at Mike, who was already looking back at him, just as confused.

They stand back up abd reunite midway. Will's arms are crossed on his chest, Mike's are tucked deep into his pockets.

"Lucas is in there," Mike whispers, eyebrows furrowed. He points at the tent with his thumb.

"Jane is not in there," Will mirror Mike's movements. "She must be.."

"With Max," Mike says with a sigh.

"Yeah."

They look at each other for a bit. Mike's cheeks suddenly puff up when he starts laughing but tries to hold it in. He snorts, folding in on himself. Will slaps his back, and tries to shush him, even though he himself can barely hold it in. They take a few deep breaths to calm down, then shake their heads in disbelief. Their friends really switched spots just so the two of them could stay together. Mike scoffs.

"I hate them," he loves them so much.

Will yawns. A little whine escapes him, and he walks back to his tent. Mike sheepishly follows him.

"Um," he starts, voice cracking. Will turns to him, giving him all his attention. "Is it.. okay if we.. sleep together?"

He's nervously picking at the hem of his sleeve. Will gives him a blank stare.

"Are you kidding me?" Will says flatly and tilts his head.

Mike doesn't have time to respond before Will grabs his wrist and pulls him to the tent. Mike follows him like a giddy puppy on a leash. A stupid grin spreads on his face, and he feels like he's about to start floating. Will glances back at him, with a similar flustered smile. Then his eyes drop down for a second, and he suddenly stops with a palm to Mike's chest.

"Ah," he says, then points down. Mike's eyes follow the movement. "Wipe your feet first."

Mike's sighs. His feet are still damp from the lake, with sand clinging to them. He throws his head back, pouting.

"Will," Mike whines. It's a little too loud for how late it is.

"You're not dragging sand into my tent, Mike. Grab a towel and wipe your feet," Will says, both stern and gentle. Like he's scolding a dog. He points towards the hung up towels and gives Mike the flashlight.

Mike tries to give him the puppy eyes. Key word, tries. His eyelids were already only half open from the wine and exhaustion, and now he just looks like he's trying to do a smolder but failing miserably. Will doesn't budge. He nods towards the towels and climbs into the tent.

Mike stomps over to the towels a little further away, and grabs a random one. He didn't look. It's probably Max's. He wipes his feet as quickly as he can, then walks back. Before climbing in, he shakes the remaining sand and dirt off.

It's been less than a minute, but Will is already tucked in. He took his sweatshirt off, got into the sleeping bag and is laying comfortably. His hands are crossed on his chest and he's staring up. Mike clumsily settles down next to him. He discovers that he has no pillow to lay on. He felt so grateful that their friends moved his sleeping bag here, but did not realize that it's all they moved.

"Shit," he groans, sitting back up.

"What is it?" Will asks, already sounding half asleep.

"I think Lucas took my pillow," Mike grumbles and roughly rubs his eyes. He could get out and go grab it, but it's so warm in here, and he really does not feel like moving.

"We can share mine," Will offers, already moving his pillow towards Mike.

"You sure?"

"Am I sure I want to share a pillow with my boyfriend?" Will mumbles and rolls his eyes. He is actually one foot in dreamland right now.

Mike huffs out a laugh, unable to come up with any other response. He pulls his hoodie off over his head, leaving him in a shirt. They scoot closer to each other, pressing their shoulders. Will's pillow is pretty wide, but it's barely enough. With Mike's broad shoulders his head is barely on the edge of the pillow.

Will isn't very comfortable either. They shift around a bit, but nothing is helping. It's quiet, all that can be heard is shifting of fabrics and quiet, breathy giggles. Eventually Will lets out a frustrated huff and turns on his side, facing away from Mike.

"Can you just-"

He cuts himself off, and starts gesturing around his body. It takes Mike a second to catch on, but when it clicks, his face gets tomato red. He lifts himself up on his elbows, looking down at Will's back.

"You- You sure?" he stutters, more air than actual words.

"Oh my God. Yes, Mike. Please," Will tries to whisper, but ends up talking at pretty much his normal volume.

Mike nods, even though Will can't see it, and scoots closer, until his chest is pressed to Will's back. He stretches his arm out to wrap it around Will's waist. His leg hooks around Will's without him even realizing. They're so close Will can feel Mike's hot shaky breaths on the back of his neck. He presses even closer, until his lips almost reach the tan warm skin, but Will flinches.

"S- Sorry," Mike hurries, starting to pull away. Will stops him by grabbing his arm and pulling him back.

"Your nose is cold," Will says through a chuckle.

"Oh. Right."

Mike huffs out a laugh. He uses his free hand to rub his nose roughly, warming it up. Then he goes back to his previous position, and finally places a soft, gentle kiss to the back of Will's neck. He can feel the other boy melting and relaxing in his arms.

"I feel like I'm in a dream," Will mumbles, slurring his words.

"The good kind?" Mike asks, placing another, more audible kiss.

Will just nods and hums, but then it fades into a deep sigh. His breathing steadies, and Mike can tell he's drifted off to sleep. He smiles to himself, warm and happy.

"Me, too," Mike whispers into the darkness, even if he won't get an answer.

He lays there for a bit, listening to Will's steady breathing. His palm slides up from Will's waist to his chest, right above his heart. The peaceful, rhythmical vibrations send warm waves of goosebumps all over Mike's body, and he finally feels completely relaxed.

"Goodnight, Will," he whispers into Will's hair before falling asleep.