Archive of Our Own

“So.. what are we doing for Halloween?”

The party is in Mike’s basement, as per usual. Halloween is a week away, which means it's that time of year where Mike is completely absorbed in the season. By October 22nd, Mike is on his second rewatch of the Ghostbusters movies, midway through writing a horror-ific Halloween special campaign, and putting the final touches on his too-complicated costume. 

Except, actually, he’s not. 

Once again, Halloween is sneaking up on Mike Wheeler like a poorly executed jump scare, leaving him with a strange hollow feeling in his chest as it slips by like a forgotten birthday, growing less and less significant with each passing year. 

And really, that’s fair. 

Mike has been far too distracted to think about Halloween. It’s been like this for three years now. The past two years, at least he had a good excuse. With Vecna on the loose, it wasn’t like anyone really had much of a tolerance for monsters. But even the year before that–Freshman year (AKA the year that Will and Eleven were in California and Lucas blew off their plans last minute to go to a party with the basketball team)–things were off. In fact, the last time Mike had a satisfying Halloween was the year before the Ghost Busters incident when he convinced the party to watch all of the Lord of the Rings movies with him and got them all to do that as their group costume. And, well, now that he thinks about it,  that was a week before everything began, so basically, things have been spiralling out of control ever since then. 

But this year is different. This year, there is no more looming threat over Hawkins. No more Vecna, no Upside Down, and no reason for the party to skip out on letting the best night of the year actually be the best night of the year.

So why hasn’t Mike thought about this until now? Great question. In fact, it’s quite out of character for him to have not orchestrated this whole thing by now, because that has always been part of his role in the party. And, not to brag, but Mike thinks he’s pretty good at it. In fourth grade he organized their Star Wars costumes–he was Luke, Dustin was Chewbacca, Lucas was Han Solo, and Will was Yoga. In fifth grade, he even got Nancy to dress up as their Dorothy for their Wizard of Oz costumes. Sixth grade was Mike’s favorite though–the X-Men. 

But anyways, things are finally back to the way they are supposed to be. And it’s the party’s last chance to dress up. So why, you might ask, is it a week out from Halloween and Mike has not thought once about what he’s doing on his favorite day of the year with his favorite people for maybe the last time they’ll ever all be together to celebrate? 

Well, simply put–he’s been a little.. Distracted. 

“Mike? Earth to Wheeler?” 

Case in point.

“Huh?” He asks, tearing his gaze away from Will Byers and his too big T-shirt–and that has to be Jonathan’s, right? The Smiths are more of a Jonathan thing and that would explain why it’s slumping down on his shoulder. Usually Will’s shirts don’t show his collar bones at all–to Max. 

“You’re scooby.”

“What?” 

The first thing Mike takes issue with is how lame that sounds. They’re going to do a Scooby-doo group costume? Really? It’s fineee–but a little generic, right? 

The second thing Mike objects to is this dubious casting choice. On what planet is he Scooby? He’s always been the leader of the group–the trap setter. If anything, he should be Fred. “What– no, I’m totally Fred.”

“Lucas has dibs on Fred.”

Mike rolls his eyes. He and Lucas always end up bickering over their costumes because they gravitate towards the same architype. He compromised and let Lucas be Frodo Baggins in seventh grade even though Will was obviously Sam the Wise, so it would have made much more sense if he was Frodo, but instead he let Lucas be Frodo and he dressed up as Gollum. Then there was the whole thing with Ghostbusters that he doesn’t even want to think about because he’s pretty sure he was the asshole that year but really, it was Lucas’ turn to let Mike be the leader. 

But anyways, since Lucas ditched him and Dustin Freshman year, Mike feels completely justified in demanding his turn in the spotlight. “That’s bullshit–”

“Max is Daphne.”

“Oh.” Shit. “Nevermind, you can be Fred.” 

Like Hell he wants to do a couple’s costume with Max. He turns to Will. “Who are you?”

“They said I should be Shaggy, because you know. The hair...”

“And the stoner vibes.” Max chips in.

Okay, yeah.. Actually, Mike could work with that. 

“What? I do not have stoner vibes!”

“You kind of do.” Lucas agrees. 

Will scoffs. “Just because I’m the only one here who has tried it does not make me a stoner.” He refutes, shaking his head. 

“Alright, alright–” Mike agrees. “So, Max is Daphne, Lucas is Fred, I’m Scooby, you’re Shaggy..” He pauses. What’s left? “Whose Velma?”

“Obviously me,” / “Obviously Eleven.” 

Dustin and Max speak at the same time. Will gives Mike a look. Ah, so now he sees the problem. 

“Well, you could both be Velma?” Will says with a little shrug. “Like–a twins version or something. Velma and.. What.. Vic– uh.. Vec..” Okay, there’s a severe lack of boy names starting with a V.

Dustin cringes. “Ew, no, I am not dressing up like Eleven’s brother. That’s weird.”

“Why?” Mike asks, confused.

Dustin blushes. “Nevermind–I’m just saying. One of us has to go as the van or something.”

“And you want that to be El?!” Max asks, “On her very first real Halloween?”

“I do not want to be a van.” El says plainly. 

“No!” Dustin raises his hands in defense. “No, it should be Mike.”

“What?!” 

“I think Eleven would make more sense as Scooby anyways.”

Ah, like hell they’re taking Scooby away from Mike now. “This is ridiculous guys, obviously Dustin should just be Scrappy-Doo.”

A silence falls over the room.

Dustin slowly nods, looking at El. She nods too. Lucas grins. 

“See guys, I told you–we just needed Mike.”

“Yeah Wheeler. Thanks for taking a break from staring at Will long enough to solve our Halloween Dilhema.” 

Huh?

“I was not! I was just..” He was not staring at Will, he was just staring at Will’s shirt–or should he say Jonathan’s shirt because Mike is fairly confident his hypothesis is correct here. And that’s a completely normal curiosity door to open. It’s a nice, tame door that Mike doesn’t even have to question, unlike some of the other curiosity doors in his mind that he’s sealed shut tightly and put a mental padlock on. “..just thinking about..” 

Now, he’s looking at Will, though, because he’s blushing that light pink color that sort of softens his face which is pretty cool because his face lready looks pretty soft, like Mike has thought about reaching out to touch it a few times tonight to see if it’s as soft as it looks like it is and–

Wait– Max couldn’t have possibly known that. 

 “Wait–how would you even know what I was looking at?” He asks, both accusatory and also deeply confused because Max is quite literally blind. Was he like, predictable or something?

“I could sense it.” 

“Bullshit, you can’t sense shit.” 

“I can sense the stick up your ass–”

“Guys!” Dustin interrupts, thankfully guiding the conversation back to safer waters. “We still have to decide what we’re doing. Are we going to Ashley’s party or not?” 

“Ashley Bertland?” Mike asks, immediately making a face. “We got invited to Ashley Bertland’s party?” 

“Yeah.” Will says and Mike’s eyes are back on him in an instant. “She invited me and said I could bring friends.” 

Of fucking course she did. 

Ashley Bertland was one of the most popular girls in Hawkins High, and Mike Wheeler’s number one op as of recently. The problem with Ashley wasn’t that she was a typical high school bully. No, she wasn’t anything like Angela or the other popular girls in California. She was nice, and actually sort of cool. She wore doc martins, jean jackets, and custom made hats like Molly Ringwald. 

She was also one of Will’s friends from the high school’s art special studies program. 

“Gross. I do not want to go to Ashley’s party.” Mike says. 

“Um.. why not?” Dustin asks, making a face. 

Will tilts his head in that cute naive way and Mike wants to squeeze his cheeks. “What’s wrong with Ashley?”

Everything. “Nothing.”

“No, she’s cool.” Dustin says, then his smile gets deviant. “Plus, she’s like, totally into Will–”

“She is not!”

“–she totally is–and we owe it to our boy to show up and wing-man him.”  Lucas declares. Yeah, that sounds like basically the last thing Mike wants to do on Halloween.

“No–that is definitely now why we are going.” Will interjects. “If we go it’s because there’s free drinks and music. Not to set me up with my friend Ashley.”

“Orrrr, we could just not go?” Mike suggests, earning a crowd of boos.

“And what, stay in your basement rewatching Ghost Busters?” Max deadpans. 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“We’re literally doing that tonight, Mike.” Dustin groans. 

Lucas nods. “Really, what’s your deal with Ashley?”

“I don’t have a problem with Ashley!” He definitely does have a problem with Ashley. 

“Bogus.” Lucas agrees and now everyone is looking at Mike. Fuck. 

“I just know that wherever Ashley goes, Heather, and Melissa, and Jeniffer fucking Hayes will be too.” He says defensively. 

“Yeah, the hottest girls in the senior class–” Lucas grins, then jumps. “–Ow!” For a blind girl, Max has good aim. “Other than you, of course! My point being–you’re single now. Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” He watches Lucas second guess himself in real time as his eyes flicker from Mike to Eleven with an awkward pause. “No offense.”

El shrugs, completely unbothered, “None taken. Mike and I are happier as friends.” 

And isn’t that true? Despite being resistant at first, he’s never been the best at sharing, Mike is so glad that Eleven and Max became close that summer a few years ago. It definitely took time for him and El to adjust to being friends, but now she seems to be much happier on her own, especially with all the ways she has grown in the past year. El is allowed to go shopping now and has even found her own style, which is honestly really cool and unique from the group. It kind of reminds Mike of how she looked when she came back into his life after a year of nothing with her greased back hair. It’s softer than that, but it has a little edge to it. It’s nice to see her becoming someone on her own. 

And he kind of likes that she isn’t wearing Will’s flannels anymore, because boy was that a confusing era for Mike Wheeler. 

“I mean, I guess.” He says, faltering, his hands fidgeting as he tries to think up another reason to explain why going to Ashley’s party is lower on his list of fun ways to spend Halloween than exploring around the semi-PTSD-enducing tunnels beneath Hawkins. “But they’ll all be there with their obnoxious boyfriends.” Mike points out. 

“So?” Dustin asks.

“So–they're, like, totally annoying.” 

“Then ignore them?”

“This is stupid.” Max interrupts. 

“Yes. Stupid.” Eleven agrees. 

“Fine, well, Mike. What’s your alternative?” Dustin asks. He opens his mouth.  “And don’t say Ghost Busters.”

Shit. “Well.. I could set up a campaign for us? A big one shot?” He offers, feeling encouraged as Will’s eyes light up beside him. “And we could get Steve to buy us some beer?”

The room is quiet for a moment, before Will speaks up. “That sounds fun.” And god, Mike loves him.

Wait– Nope–that’s a door he keeps shut. 

“Yeahhh, that sounds totally lame.” Unfortunately, Will seems to be the only one more excited about that option than the party. “I don’t want to spend my last high school Halloween in your basement, Wheeler.” Max complains. “I want to have a reason to dress up.”

“How about a com-promise?” Eleven says, and eyes turn to her. “The party is Friday.” She points out, "We do Will’s party on Friday and Mike’s game on Saturday.”

Eleven’s logic makes perfect sense. The only problem is that it doesn’t solve Mike’s problem. 

The group hums. 

“Yeah, I’m cool with that.” Lucas says.

Dustin grins brightly. “Sounds like the best of both worlds to me.” 

“Fine, I’ll give it a shot.” Max agrees. “But you better make my character cool.”

Well. 

Shit. 

SHIT. 

He’s doing it again. 

“Mike?” Will asks, as the party packs up. Mike has once again managed to zone out staring at Will’s lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good with it.” Mike replies at last. “Like I said, Ashley’s fine. Her friends annoy me.” That’s a half truth. Her friends definitely do annoy Mike, but he would not care so much if he wasn’t pretty much positive this party was Ashley’s way of asking Will out.

And really, who could blame her? Will is, like, hot. Like hot, hot. And, it’s not like that’s a weird thing to notice, it’s just a fact, really. Especially since he started going to the gym with Lucas a couple times a week and his new haircut–not that he wasn’t hot before that. No, he’s always been the ladies man of their friend group, as Lucas liked to call it. Even back in seventh grade when people thought he was gay, there were still plenty of girls whispering his name in the hallway growing up. Mike remembers because it always gave him that funny tight feeling in his chest that he didn’t like to think about for too long. 

“Well, we don’t have to talk to them, then.” Will suggests, smiling sweetly. “I mean, if you get annoyed or bored or whatever, we can always just sneak around back and maybeee..” Will looks pretty when he tilts his head to the side like that, drawing out his words.. “.. we could share a joint?” He whispers that part, a shared secret. “You know, in real Scooby-Shaggy fashion.” He offers it so easily, like the idea of smoking with Will doesn’t completely change Mike’s entire outlook on the weekend. 

And yeah, that’s a new development. Will isn’t a stoner, but he’s admitted to–or more accurately been caught–getting high on a few occasions. It’s a little funny, considering how he spent a whole year complaining to Mike about Jonathan’s smoking habits, but apparently after everything with the upside down ended, Will went through a phase of having really intense nightmares and Jonathan offered it medicinally to help Will sleep. 

And through a pretty pink flush, Will admitted to Mike one night that he really liked the feeling of it. 

Will’s excited smile falters. “That is–if you still want to try it. No pressure, obviously.”

“No, no, that sounds great!” Mike says. “But- um, aren’t you the designated driver?” They haven’t talked about it, but since Will has a liscense and is typically not that into drinking on account of Lonie’s alcoholism, he usually ends up volunteering for designated driver duties. 

“Oh. Yeah.. wait–” Will turns back to the party, who are still packing up. “Dustin, it's your turn to drive.”

“What? No, come on, man.” Dustin pouts. “Does it have to be me?”

“You could ask Steve to pick us up?” Lucas shrugs.

“Yeah, right, like Steve Harrington doesn’t have Halloween plans and wants to spend it babysitting us.”

“He loves babysitting.” Max jokes.

“I’ll drive.” El says.

Will shakes his head. “No, El, you don’t have a liscense.” 

“But I like driving. Hopper lets me drive all the time.” Eleven retourts. 

As much as Mike likes this idea, he’s not sure how smart it is. “Yeah, but with a car full of drunk teenagers, it’s really not a good look if we get pulled over.”

El shrugs. “Then we won’t get pulled over. I will drive slow.”

“But what if we do?” Will asks, still hesitant. 

“I will think of something.”

Max groans. “Guys, just let El drive, it will be fine.” 

Mike looks at Will and he shrugs. Well. Alright. That settles it then. Friday can’t come soon enough. 

-

Mike takes it back. Friday should have never come. In fact, he’s fine if he never sees another Friday on his calendar again, because now they are at Ashley’s dumb party and he’s totally going out of his mind, staring across the room at Will as he chats with Ashley. 

And there it is again. That messy, confusing, frustrating twisty feeling in his body, like his stomach is trying to eat his chest. It’s simple, though, right? He hates sharing and Will is his favorite person, so obviously, sharing Will would be like sharing his favorite toy. In kindergarten, Mike went through a whole phase of hiding his favorite space ships before Will came over so he didn’t think about playing with those ones that he was extra protective of. So yeah, Will is like a space ship. Mike is just extra protective with him. 

Except, not really. Because once he did start to share his toys, he actually started having more fun. The first time he showed Will the Star Strider, Will had that really smart idea to use dental floss to make a big zip line so it could fly from the top of the basement stairs to the couch, and that was like the coolest, most awesome thing to ever happen in Mike Wheeler’s professional opinion as a six year old. 

Mike is positive that Will dating Ashley would not be an awesome zip line space ship kind of situation. It would be more like if Will had taken Star Strider and smashed it to pieces with a big rock.

“What are you looking at?” Lucas asks, guiding Max into the kitchen. He spots it before Mike has time to make a snarky remark. It’s probably better for that one to stay on his tongue. “Oh– Will! I told him!” Lucas grins from beside Mike.  “I knew she was hitting on him.”

Yeah, well it’s fairly obvious now as Ashley’s hand comes up to gently touch Will’s arm, leaning into his space just a little too much and is she feeling his bicep right now? Um, needy much? 

Never mind that Mike has done that a couple times this month–

“Good for Will,” Max says. “Are they kissing?”

“Not yet.” Lucas grins, and Mike wants to punch him. Oh. That’s a violent thought. Okay, calm down, Mike. He refills his cup instead. 

“Do you think he is okay?” Eleven asks, and Mike doesn’t know because he stopped looking. “He looks a little uncomfortable.” 

“Nah, that’s just Will. He has what I like to call, an awkward but endearing charm.” Well, that much is true. “He’s terrible at flirting but the girls go crazy for it.” 

Mike nods in agreement, begrudgingly.

“Wait, I think I left my cup in the other room.” Max says, feeling around the counter in front of her. “Lucas, do you have it?” 

Lucas puts his cup down. “Oh– no, sorry, my bad. Should we go get it?” 

“Just get a new one.” Mike says, weary of party drinks. It’s Hawkins, and Max is definitely safe with all of them and especially Lucas looking after her, but still. 

“I’m with Wheeler.” Max agrees. “Take me to the snack table.” 

Lucas and Max wander off to find another cup, and Mike dares to look back at Ashely and Will and his stomach twists up. She’s totally hanging all over him, it’s disgusting. One of her hands is on Will’s shoulder now and his eyes lock on it, glaring. Her pink fingernails pop against Will’s green shirt. Why is her hand there? Who gave her a right to put her hand on Will’s shoulder? 

A hand touches Mike’s shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” Eleven asks. 

“What? Yeah, totally fine.” 

El tilts her head. “You are looking at them like I look at people when I use my powers.”

“It would be sick to have telechenetic powers right now.” Mike sighs, finally looking away. 

“Do you like Ashley?” Eleven asks.

“What?” Mike shakes his head, practically gagging. “No– gross.” 

Eleven nods, thoughtfully. Then,

“Do you like Will?”

The air is sucked out of the room.

“Uh– I..” He shakes his head.

Shit. 

Shit shit shit shit–

“Mike?”

The problem is, that’s a curiosity door that is supposed to stay shut. Like, kind one of the most secure ones. There’s a couple other doors with padlocks that he’s dared to peek into a few times, mostly late at night, and even one or two that he opened for a brief period of time before sealing up nice and tight again, but this door?

This is a door that is definitely, certainly, beyond a doubt-edly supposed to be locked. 

 “No– El, you don’t just ask people that.”

“Why not?”

“Because–” Mike says, glancing around in a panic and lowering his voice. “because he’s a boy.”

“So?”

“So– that’s not– people can’t– boys aren’t supposed to like boys like that.”

“But you do?” Eleven asks, again, naive as ever like she isn’t causing Mike to spiral, thrashing around in his mind to stop everything from pouring out of that door in a Stephen-King-bloody-elevator like fashion. He starts sputtering anxiously, so Eleven puts her other hand on his shoulder to ground him “I am not mad, Mike. It’s okay if you like Will.”

The problem is, it is very much not okay. 

“Shh–” He glances around but the music is loud and people are pretty drunk. “That’s not– I– no. No, I don’t.”

“Mike.” El says, seeing right through him. “Friends don’t lie.”

Yeah, well, friends don’t open other friends’ secret locked up curiosity doors either, but it’s not like he can explain that one to Eleven. 

“Okay, look, I know– but this is different, okay?” He fumbles for words. “It doesn’t matter if– you know– or not. It’s not like that– that isn’t the point.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Boys can’t like boys, El. That’s not how it works.”

“But you do.. So, it is how it works.”

“No– no. I don’t. I don’t.” El just looks at him. Fuck. “Okay–fine, but it isn’t supposed to work that way.”

“Why?” She asks, big and wide eyes. “I think you and Will would be cute as a couple.”

The door has just flung off its hinges. Mike Wheeler is a doomed man. 

He is also starting to panic in this kitchen. 

Mike is so thankful that nobody is near them right now. In fact, he’s actually never been this thankful to not be popular, because it seems like, for once, his radiant air of social deterrence is a blessing. “Okay–look, we can talk about this later, but not here, alright?” Mike says. “It’s dangerous. Do you understand?”

That seems to make sense to Eleven, so she shuts her mouth and nods. “Sorry.”

He sighs. “No, it’s okay..” 

It’s actually better than okay. It’s the first time he’s ever acknowledged it out loud and it’s kind of amazing, even though he’s a little drunk and a lot scattered. Of course, it’s kind of horrible, too. But still, there is that undeniable sense of relief that is slowly settling into his bones. The band aid is ripped off. Sure, he’s still bleeding and that band aid kind of seems a little necessary now that he’s looking at the mess left in its absence.. But hey, the band aid was also peeling for a long time and not exactly doing much for him, so at a minimum, this was probably necessary. 

He gives her a more gentle smile. “Thank you, actually.” 

Eleven leans in and hugs him, and Mike is once again so thankful they can be friends like this because he really loves Eleven’s hugs. She has a super grounding and caring presence and looking back, Mike can totally understand why he mistook this feeling for romantic love for so many years. He loves her so deeply. She probably has always seen him in a way that nobody else could, something that was unique and deep. Even when he was being a totally shitty boyfriend, she was so caring with him. He is very thankful to still have this connection with her, even though he now understands that they’re more like Luke and Leia than Superman and Lois Lane. 

“He’s looking over here.” Eleven says as they pull away. 

Mike glances over and catches Will’s eye for only a fraction of a second before he’s looking back at Ashley and now Will is laughing and leaning a little more into her space too and hey– hey now. You’re not supposed to look at other people like that–

Except, he totally is and Mike is delusional. He sighs. “I wish I had your powers right now,” He jokes softly.

El looks at him with a gentle nod, and squeezes his shoulder one more time. “I’m going to find Dustin.” She says. 

“Yeah. Okay.” He nods. 

Eleven walks away, leaving Mike alone with his cup, staring at Will, who actually looks like he’s happy to be around Ashley now and Mike really has to look away–

But right before he can, a semi-expensive looking vase falls off the mantal behind Ashley. 

“Crap–Sorry, Will, I have to take care of that.” She says and huh, that’s a lucky coincidence–

Oh. He watches El out of the corner of his eye wipe a little blood from her nose. 

She’s the fucking best. 

Not wanting to waste his shot, Mike cuts across the room to Will, pushing down the flooding tide of realization in his brain. He’s pretty drunk. He can ignore it a little while longer. 

“Hey.” He says, pulling Will by the wrist away from that corner and away from Ashley, who is busy cleaning up ceramic anyways. “I’m bored. And annoyed.” He says, cutting to the chase. “Did you bring it?”

Will blinks, then a smile of recognition spreads across his face. “Yeah. Yeah, come on.” 

They cut through the party and out into the back yard. Ashley has a nice house and a big yard. There’s a little campfire going out here and one couple making out under a tree. They see a little spot by the side of the house with some big rocks to sit on. Perfect. As they walk, Mike makes sure to bump into Will at least three times. 

“The Scooby costume came out really good by the way.” Will says. 

“Thanks.” This one wasn’t Mike’s best work. He loves going all out for costumes, but going full-dog at a high school party seemed like a recipe for disaster, so he found a brown shirt and a blue dog collar, then made his own dog ear headband and put on a tiny bit of face paint– 

Okay, so it’s not low effort, but considering Mike once painted himself entirely blue for an Avatar watch party in his own basement, this is very tame. 

“The collar is a nice touch.” Will grins, and Mike’s face heats up because he’s had a few too many passing thoughts about Will bringing a leesh for him this week and god, he’s not well. 

“You look really good.” Mike blurts out, because he’s been thinking about it all night. Green looks really good on Will. So do slightly baggy T-shirts that show off Will’s collar bone. 

“Oh.” Will says, tilting his head a little. “Thanks. It’s just Jonathan’s t-shirt.” 

“Yeah, I figured.” Mike says, because he’s noticed it many times before. He likes when Will wears Jonathan’s clothes. “They look good on you.” 

“Huh?”

“Jonathan’s shirts.” Mike says like it’s a normal, friendly observation, because hey, it could be! “You look hot in them.”

Maybe he’s drunker than he thought. 

Will blushes brightly, nearly dropping his pre-rolled joint as he takes it out of the little plastic bag and fishes for his lighter. “Um, thank you.”

Mike nods, looking at the joint. He’s a little nervous. “Is it like being drunk?” He asks.

“Sort of, but I think you feel more in control. But things might get a little delayed. If that happens it’s normal.” Will explains, lighting it and taking the first drag. Mike watches the smoke slowly escape his lips as he speaks. “You still want to?”

He hopes he looks that cool when he tries it. “Yeah. Sure.”

Will passes the joint and Mike fumbles for a second, unsure how to hold it properly. He pinches it between his thumb and index finger awkwardly in the middle, trying not to squish it, then brings it to his lips and sucks hard, watching the tip burn brightly. 

“Shit– Mike–”

Spoiler alert–he does not look that cool.

Mike doubles over, coughing a lung out. His throat burns sharply, scratchy like he’s swallowed barbed wire. He feels like he can’t breathe, hacking and choking on air, passing that cursed little stick back to Will because what the fuck was that?!

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Will says comfortingly, patting his back to ease him and okay, well that’s nice at least. “You took too much, sorry, I should have warned you you don’t have to suck so hard.”

“Yeah–” Mike coughs, wheezing out a soft, “–asshole.” 

Will laughs. “Well, I didn’t think you were going to do that.” 

Mike laughs too once he catches his breath. Not because he finds this all that funny, no, he’s quite mortified, but Will’s laugh is just so damn contagious.
“You alright?”

“I think so.” 

“Do you need anything? We can go inside and get some water.” 

Mike shakes his head. “No. I want to get high first. For real.” Water actually does sound amazing right now but not as amazing as staying outside alone with Will. Maybe he just doesn’t want to go back inside and risk running into Ashley again. “Water later.” 

“Okay.” Will agrees, taking another hit. “Here– watch me first.” Will says, and that’s easy for Mike because he’s basically always staring at Will’s lips these days. 

Will wets his lips, then brings the filter of the joint up and takes a very slow, easy drag. The tip lights up, but just a little.  He holds it in his lungs for a few seconds, then the smoke starts to seep out of his nose with a gentle breath. 

Will passes it back to Mike, who struggles to take it again. He’s seen people smoke cigarettes a lot but those aren’t so flimsy. He’s pretty sure he’s supposed to hold the end like Will is doing, so he doesn’t accidentally rip the paper or something, but that’s awkward because Will’s fingers are there and Mike does not have beautiful delicate artist hands like Will.

“Shit– Will, how am I supposed to hold this thing?” Mike asks. 

“Don’t worry about that.” Will laughs. “I’ll just hold it for you.”

Mike likes that idea a lot. He looks at the tip and remembers again that Will’s lips were just there. In a way, it’s sort of like they’re kissing..

You know, by like, transfer of property math or something.  

Mike leans forwards and takes a slower drag this time. He holds it in his lungs for a few seconds until he starts to cough a little and lets the smoke out. It’s not like last time, though. It’s much less painful. 

“There you go.” Will encourages, then brings it back to his lips. 

They share the joint. A few more drags and Mike has it down-ish. “So..” Mike starts to say as the world gets a little lighter. “What did Ashley want?”

It comes out a little more bitter than he means for it to, but Will doesn’t seem to notice. “Oh– she just, you know.. Said she was glad I came and stuff.”

Stuff? What stuff? Define fucking stuff, William.

 “Cool.” Mike says, coughing a little on his exhale. 

“So..” And Mike turns to really look at him immediately because he recognizes that uneasy tone in Will’s voice. Will’s eyes widen a little, probably caught off guard by how fast Mike just whipped his head around, which, fair, it did sort of make his neck hurt– “are you and El.. like..getting back together or something?”

HUH?

“What?! No, of course not.” Mike says, face twisting up. “Why would you think that?”

Will blinks at him, wide eyed. “Oh. I don’t know. I just saw you guys in the kitchen looking.. Close.”

“Yeah, it’s not like that.” Mike says, shaking his head because god, it's sooo not like that.

“Cool.” Will says. 

“So are you and Ashley a thing now?” He asks even though he really doesn’t want an answer. 

“No,” Will says, eyes going wide. “no– no, like I said, we’re just friends.”

“She didn’t seem like she wanted to be just friends.” Mike says, a little bitingly.

“Well, I do.” Will says, firmly. 

Something easier settles in Mike's chest. Suddenly, the world moves a little smoother, and that tight thing gnawing at his small intestine decides to give it a break. “Okay..” He leans back and looks up at the night sky, admiring the full moon. “..good.”

“..good?”

Shit. His head whips back down to Will too fast and the world spins a little to catch up. “Woah–” Okay, so that’s what being high is like. 

“Why is that good?” Will asks, his voice less defensive now and just sort of soft and maybe confused. 

Anyways, back to the point–

“Um– well–” God, it’s hard to come up with an excuse when his brain feels like it is swimming upstream. “Because I think Dustin likes her.” 

Will’s face falls. Then it changes into something more scrunched up. If Mike wasn’t on the hot seat he'd be thinking about how cute that look is on Will. Oh–actually, he’s doing that anyway. “Really?”

“Uh.. yeah.” Mike says. Fuck. His brain feels like it's on low battery. “I think he had a thing for her last year.”

“Then why did he keep trying to set me up with her?”

“He did what?” Mike asks, not hiding his anger very well. 

“He gave me a thing of mints on the drive here and said ‘go get ‘em tiger’ then did that purring thing with his teeth-”

Mike is going to kill Dustin for being a good friend. “He was being suppostive. He doesn’t want you to know he’s upset about it because he thought you liked her.”

“Why does everyone think I like her?” Will groans, and they’re almost done with the joint now. “I thought it was like–” he looks down, mumbling the last part, “kind of obvious I didn’t.” 

“Obvious?” Mike asks. “Why would it be obvious?”

Will blushes, but he stares back at Mike blankly like he’s trying to wait for something to click for Mike. 

It doesn’t. 

Will’s expression slowly turns into something more confused. “..really? ..Wow.. Okay,” Yeah, Mike is also confused now. “Huh..” 

“What’s going on?” Mike whines. He hates not knowing things. “I’m confused.” 

“Nothing, nevermind.” Will says, shaking his head.

Mike pouts. “Well, it's not like you didn’t spend the last twenty minutes flirting with her.” 

Will actually laughs. “Okay– hold on, I was not flirting with Ashley.”

“Yeah you were.”

“I was like, stiff as a board for most of that conversation.”

“I know.” Mike says pointedly, filter gone. “Lucas calls it your awkward endearing charm. It’s awkward, but endearing.”

“How is that endearing?”

“Because you look really cute when people flirt with you, duh.” Mike says because that is just a well known fact. 

Will blushes. See–case in point. “I do?”

“Yeah, your shoulders hike up to your ears and your smile gets all nervous. And you sort of start stuttering and your eyes flicker around like you don’t know what to do.” 

“That’s because I’m uncomfortable.”

Oh. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Will says, like it should be obvious. 

Well, shit. What does Will look like when he wants to be flirted with, then? Mike wonders. Will looks really pretty right now. His shoulders are more relaxed, but his face is pretty red and his eyes are big and wide, like his pupils, but hey that’s probably the weed. 

Speaking of, Will puts out the joint. “We should probably go get you some water now.”

Mike hesitates. He really does not want to run back into Ashley, but his throat is burning up. “Yeah..” 

Will starts get up, but when Mike does he stumbles, because oh–the world is super fucking delayed. 

“Holy shit.” He laughs. 

“Fun, right?” Will smiles, then starts to walk back towards the door.

“Wait–” Mike says and grabs for Will's hand. “I’m dizzy.”

It’s a bullshit excuse to hold Will’s nice artist hands, but that’s okay because Will doesn’t question it. “Oh– sure.” He supplies his hand and leads Mike back inside. 

“Here, get some water, then we can hit up the snack table. Trust me, you’re going to love it.” Will says, his voice having a devious little glint in it that reminds Mike of how playful Will was when they were kids. 

Mike lets himself lean against Will as they get to the sink. He makes a disappointed sound when Will lets go of his hand to get him some water. Will laughs at him. Rude. 

“Don’t laugh.” Mike pouts. 

“I’m sorry– you’re just..” Will trials off for a moment, but then his eyes flicker and he decides to finish that thought, “Cu–”

“Will! There you are!” Ashley says. 

“Oh, hey Ashley.”

Q? What was Will about to say? Quiet? No, Mike’s not quiet.. Was he going to call Mike queer? That would be, like, really out of left field, though, right? Or maybe he misheard that. Maybe he said a Ck-sound. Was he trying to call Mike clingy? Well, that would be true. Sue him. And he’s about to be more. 

“Willllll..” Mike whines. “I don’t feel that good.” He says, stumbling into Will’s space, totally hamming it up. He fully slumps against the counter.

“Is he going to be sick?” Ashley asks nervously. 

“Oh– I don’t know, Mike, are you okay?” Will asks, turning to Mike and brushing his hair out of Mike’s face–which is currently pressed cheek to counter. 

Mike winks at Will.

What? Will said he was uncomfortable.

Will stares back for a moment, confused, then it clicks. He picks up the hint. 

“Hey, I should probably take him to a bathroom just in case.” Will says, then does something amazing–he lifts one of Mike’s arms up over his shoulder and brings an arm around Mike’s waist, holding him nice and firm with that nice sort of touch that makes Mike all warm and gooey. And yeah, Mike is a fucking genius. “Sorry, Ashley.” 

“It’s okay. I hope your friend feels better.” Ashley says sincerely.. Sooo, maybe Mike is a bit of an asshole but hey, he honestly doesn’t care right now because as soon as they get around the corner Will is laughing.

“You are such a dick.” He giggles as Mike still slumps on him. 

“Hey–I saved you from a potentially awkward and uncomfortable situation, didn’t I?” He grins, walking with less weight on Will now, but still letting Will hold him close because he’s sure as hell not going to pull away first. 

“Yeah–my knight in shining armor.” Will quips sarcastically.

“Just like the painting!” Mike exclaims, happily because it is his favorite painting ever, like that thing is so awesome. 

Will gets a little tenser though, huh, then lets go of him. “Uh, yeah..”  They’re at the snack table now. “Okay– snack time.”

“Rubby-dooby-doo!” Mike giggles. So, this is a good Halloween after all.

. 

They leave the party shortly after. Mike steals a half empty bag of chips as they leave the house because he’ll enjoy them more than anyone at that party would anyway. 

And he does.

He and Will sit in the back seat of the car. Since there’s too many people and not enough seats, Dustin gets shotgun and Max sits on Lucas’ lap, leaving Will in the middle, squished up against Mike. Mike does not mind one bit. Besides, it makes it easier for Mike to share the chips with Will! They really are committing to the Scooby and Shaggy dynamic..

“So, how was everyone’s night?” Max asks. 

“I had a very good night.” Eleven says. 

“Yeah– me too.” Dustin tacks on quickly. 

“The music was surprisingly good.” Lucas says, prompting a discussion about the playlist that frankly, Mike can’t remember at all. 

Mike gets distracted. It’s an ongoing thing. His hand finds Will’s in the bag of chips and he remembers through cloudy thought that he really likes Will’s artist hands. SO, instead of grabbing more chips, he grabs Will’s hand. 

Will looks at him, confused. Mike stares back. Yeah. What about it? Mike mouths an equally confused What? Will accepts the fate of his hand it seems, because he doesn’t take it away and he stops trying to question Mike. 

He keeps holding Will’s hand in the chip bag for a minute. Both of their hands feel kinda funny and greasy from the snacks and that’s distracting at first until he remembers the way that Will’s hands looked earlier holding the joint and he recalls the way he has always admired Will’s fingers. His thumb drifts up the back of Will’s hand, until he feels the bump of his knuckle and decides it's more fun to just fiddle with his pointer finger.

He feels Will tense up a little beside him. Right– he should also be looking at WIll to make sure this is okay. So, he brings his gaze back up and–

Yeah, he’s pretty sure this is okay. 

Will’s eyes are big and wide and he has this soft, sort of fond smile on his face. He looks a little confused (which is kind of funny to Mike because it isn’t rocket science. Mike likes playing with Will’s hands) but he doesn’t try to question it, so neither does Mike. The greasy bag is making little crinkly sounds that are too loud and kind of annoying, though. And this would be better if he could actually see Will’s hands. 

So, Mike sets down the chip back on the floor and keeps playing with Will’s hands. 

“So–what happened with Ashley?” Dustin asks. 

Will doesn’t answer. 

“Will?”

“What?” He asks after a moment, a little distant, clearly not paying attention. Mike is using both hands now to fiddle with Will’s fingers. He’s very content with this.

“We wanna know if you and Ashley made out?” Lucas teases and now Mike is less content. He squeezes Will’s ring finger possesively. 

“OOO yes, I wanna hear about Will’s night!” Dustin says and spins around in his seat to look at Will. Mike watches him do a double take. He stares back, again, like what? but Dustin doesn’t say anything. He looks back to Will.

“No.” Will says. “We didn’t–I told you guys we’re just friends.”

“Bullshit, we all totally saw you flirting with her, right Mike?” Lucas says. 

Mike just shrugs, annoyed at the conversation. He pulls Will in a little closer. 

“I don’t like her.” Will says finally. “She’s not my type.”

“Really? What is your type then?” Dustin asks. 

“I don’t know.” Will mumbles. He’s flustered again. Mike likes that. 

“Come on, give us something.” Lucas practically begs. “Blondes?” He asks, then grins and squeezes Max in his lap. “Redheads?”

“Pfft–”

“Um.. dark hair..”  Will says and Lucas hoots. 

“Okay, now we’re talking.” 

“Ashley has dark hair.” Dustin points out and Mike flips his hand palm up to trace shapes on his open palm. 

“Tall.” Will blurts out and Mike starts to smile a little. He knows its wishful thinking, but so far he is two for two. 

“Urgh, boys.” Max groans. “What besides looks. What about personality?” Max asks.

Will is blushing brightly. “I don’t get the point of this–”

“The point issss we’re curious.” Lucas grins.

“Yes!” Dustin agrees.

“And drunk.” Max giggles. 

“And yes.” Dustin makes a pouty face. “Wiiiiilllllllllll, don't keep this curiosity door locked!”

Will rolls his eyes. “Fine, fineee.” Mike looks up from Will’s hand only to find Will already looking at him, contemplatively. Mike smiles and Will slowly smiles back. And oh, his stomach is doing a little flip. That’s fun. 

“I guess.. I like it when they’re like.. Passionate?” Will says, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, “I like it when someone can talk about something for a long time because they really care about it.” 

“Yeah, that’s objectively attractive,” Dustin says, “dig deeeeper.”

Will laughs. “Okay– um. Nerdy. I like nerdy people.”

Mike’s batting a thousand right now. 

“Oooo~ Will wants a nerdy girl!” 

Right. Girl.

Mike slumps a little more, but he’s also pretty tired, so he leans forwards and fuck it, he brings Will’s hand to his chest and squeezes it, leaning fully onto Will’s shoulder.

“Is he okay?” He hears Dustin ask.

“Uh.. I think so?” Will’s chest hums warmly as he speaks. It’s nice. Then his breath tickles Mike’s ear. “You okay?”

“Mhmm.”

“Sick?”

“No.. tired..”

“He’s fine.” Will reports. “Just drunk.”

And yeah, sure. He’s just drunk right now. That’s all. He’s drunk and high and that’s why he’s letting himself nuzzle his nose into Will’s collar bone. And if his lips brush there too, well.. 

“..hey, we’re here, Mike.” Will stirs him gently. 

How long has he been asleep?

Dustin, Lucas, and Max are gone. It’s just El and Will left. Mike lifts his head. “Huh..?” 

“We’re at your house.” Will says gently. Mike slowly becomes aware of the fact he’s half wrapped around Will now. His eyes land on the little dark smudge where his dog nose makeup smeared onto Will’s neck. He sits up slowly, still drunk. “..you okay?”

It’s times like this he misses when Will lived in his basement. He doesn’t want to leave Will’s side. He hums softly, going to undo his seatbelt, but as his hands move down he realizes that he’s still holding onto Will’s hand. Oh. He lets go tiredly and goes to unclick his seatbelt and open his door. But it doesn’t open. The window rolls down though. Wait.. Oh, he’s really tired and out of it, that’s not the handle.

“Mike?” 

“Hmm?”

Will sighs and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Hang on, El. I’ll be right back.”

Will tumbles out of the car with him. Mike smiles brightly. Much better. 

“You okay?” Will asks, going to help Mike, but he’s okay so instead of making Will half carry him inside, he just reaches out to grab Will’s hand again. That’s nice. He brings it up to his chest as they walk in, playing with Will’s fingers some more. 

“Mhmm, just tired.” He says, smiling a little lopsided.

Will doesn’t question him, just makes sure Mike gets inside alright. But once they get past the door, Mike doesn’t let go of his hand. “Oh– hey, buddy–” Will giggles a little in an awkward way. “I gotta go-”

“Mh- noooo. Ssstay.” Mike whines. 

“Shh-sh-shh, Mike, your dad is in the other room.”

Will’s definitely right. Mike can hear the TV buzzing. “Pft, ‘s fine.. He’s a heavy sleeper.”

“I have to go back to the car.”

“Stay.” He pouts. 

Will laughs a little more. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal.” Will says, stopping Mike from dragging him up the stairs, which, booooo.. “I’ll stay over tomorrow night after the campaign if you still want me to, okay?” Will says, and Mike whines again. “But I can’t tonight–I didn’t tell my mom.”

“Sooo?’ Mike whines. 

Will rolls his eyes. “Mike.” 

“Promise you’ll stay over tomorrow?” He’s hamming it up. Mike knows. He doesn’t care. 

“Sure.” Will smiles. “Goodnight Mike.”

Mike smiles. He squeezes Will’s hand, then gets distracted by it again. His artist fingers.. There’s a little paint under his nails still, something Mike couldn’t see at the party, but now he can see it in the light spilling in from his right over their heads. His hands look really nice. He has the vague desire to put it in his mouth.. “Mhmm.. goodnight.”

“..you have to let go of my hand.” Will says, giggling.

“Right.” Mike lifts Will’s hand to his mouth. He kisses it, then lets him go, turning to go up to his room and promptly pass out…

-

Mike spends his whole Saturday throwing together the campaign. He’s been procrastinating, and yes, distracted, but what else is new?

That doesn’t matter now because it's the first time Max and Eleven are going to play DnD with the party and he’s got to make sure the campaign lives up to everyone’s expectations. Sure, technically that means Max and Eleven have literally no expectations, but still, he wants it to be fun. Besides, ever since watching Eddie DM, Mike’s started holding his campaigns to a higher standard. 

The thing is, that distraction is very much still linked to the revelations he had last night. Mike has been telling himself he doesn’t need to unpack that today, he’s got other shit to do. Maybe tomorrow–Sunday, the day of rest–he’ll accept his fate and start thinking about how to handle that conversation. But right now, he’s got a campaign to write. 

And it starts off.. Okay. He’s got a Frankenstein vibe going on that’s working pretty well, and he ends up running with the Mystery Incorperated theme, making the party a group of monster hunters out to investigate strange goings-on. There’s a cult and a soon-to-be-bride that needs saving, and he’s got a great final boss in mind. When it comes to getting everything on paper, Mike thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of it. His pen deosn’t stop writing really. 

It’s when he sits back to read the story he came up with that Mike starts to sweat. It’s just.. A little uneven.  So maybe he got a little carried away with that soon-to-be bride and her plotline. Maybe he got slightly over invested in her character development. Maybe she's a five foot eleven writer with raven hair with a tragic backstory. Maybe she has to kiss a sorcerer to break the curse and Will is going to be playing the only sorcerer on their team and so what if he wrote a self insert as Will’s NPC love interest? 

It’s fine! It’s totally fixable, he just needs another cup of coffee and maybe some advil to help with his headache. Then he can lock in on giving Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Eleven more to do than this NPC love interest he wrote for Will. 

“You okay, sweetie?”

Mike nods, brushing off his mom’s concern as he watches the coffee pot brew painstakingly slow. “Yeah–just a little tired.” Drip… Drip… Drip.. Mike taps his foot on the floor impatiently. Chop, chop, he doesn’t have all day here. “By the way, I think Will’s going to stay over tonight. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Karen says, keys rustling. “I’m heading out the door.”

“Don’t forget the snacks for my campaign–”

“I know, I’ll get your snacks, honey.” She reassures him. If there was a meter in the room for patience, Karen and Mike would be on opposite ends of the spectrum right now. He really wants this coffee to brew faster. “If Will is going to be here in the morning should I get the cereal he likes?”

“Huh–yeah, that’s great.” Mike says.

“Is it the–”

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch.”

“Right– thank you.” He makes a little annoyed sound as his mom comes up behind him and kisses his head. 

“Mommm-”

“Love you, bye.” 

His coffee finally brews, and Mike takes it back down to the basement to start flushing out the other character arcs, even if they aren’t quite as exciting to Mike, personally, as the one he writes for Will.

-

“I rolled two.” 

“aGAIN?”

Mike wanted to believe he thought through everything, but he really wasn’t counting on Will to roll like ass all night. 

“Okay, so you drop the soup and it spills all over the floor, but she finds your attempt to charm her.. Endearing.”

“Endearing?”

“Bullshit! He rolled a two!”

“Shut up Lucas– it works and the girl in the blue dress–Mina–lets you into her room.”

“NICE,”

“Sir William the Wise,” 

“--you can just call me Will.” 

“..she blushes.”

“DOUBLE NIIIIICE–”

“Will,” Mike says, voice raised to sound like a princess. “What are you doing here? In my room.. Alone.. At night..”

Max laughs sharply. “Okay, now I get it.” 

“Get what?” 

“Why you nerds are so obsessed with this game.”

El nods, Mike cringes, Dustin blushes, Will laughs, and Lucas groans. “Max, we talked about this–”

“No, it's actually kind of cute.”

Mike is over this. “SOOO– Will.. what brings you here? Mina asks. Also, now that you’re standing close, you realize she is a few inches taller than you.” 

Okay, maybe he’s enjoying this a little too much.

“I– uh..” Will’s eyes flicker around the group. “I needed to talk to you in private. It’s about this place.  It’s not what it seems.”

“She looks at you, confused. What does that mean, Sir William– she stops herself. Will?”

“Do you remember anything about your life before this place?”

They continue the scene. Mike makes Will roll again to see how convincing he is. Despite giving Will’s character a generous +3 for charisma, he’s not making this easy. 

“I rolled a five…”

Mike almost groans. 

“Dude– I told you we should have sent me after her.” Dustin says, rolling his eyes. “My bard would have broken that damn spell by now with his harp.” 

“Yeah, but she was totally making eyes at Sir William at the fire!”

“THE GIRL IN BLUE–” Mike says over the bickering, “seems.. Not fully convinced.”

“Yeah no shit–”

“Can I try to seduce her?” Dustin asks. 

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because–” Mike stutters. Fuck. “Fine– roll for it.” 

“..nineteen! I sneak out of my room and go knock on her door–”

Mike wants to scream. “Wait-”

Will looks a little relieved. “Yeah, I hear the knocking and decide to leave.” 

Shit. Alright fine, he’s going to have to make his hits a little more obvious. “As you make your way to the door, you notice her journal on the table. She’s a writer.” Mike says, and under the table he bumps his foot purposefully into Will’s. “She stops Will before he can get to the door. Wait–what if it is my fiance? He can’t know you’re here–”

“I keep walking towards the door. It’s probably not–”

“Hide in my closet! Mina urges, escorting you into hiding as she goes to open the door to Sir Dustonian the Dreamer.” 

“Shit– is Will the Wise about to watch me bang the girl in blue?”

“What?! No-”

“You can bang in this game?” 

“What does bang mean?”

Dustin, Mike, Max, and Eleven speak in rapid succession, and yeah, maybe this is getting a little derailed. He probably shoudn’t have gotten so attached to this dumb NPC being Will’s love interest, especially since Will almost always avoids the romantic plots. He just thought maybe if he made Mina so obviously Will’s type–tall, brunette, passionate–he could have a brief moment of living vicariously through the story. But, of course, these things never seem to go as planned. 

He skims through the next few scenes, working around Dustin’s lucky streak to find literally any reason why his seduction fails. 

Thankfully, Will finally seems to catch onto the fact Mike clearly wrote this plot line for his character. God. 

“Um– okay, you have managed to convince Mina to escape with you. Dustonian can go back to his room. Mina says she will meet you downstairs at the hour to sneak out. Meanwhile, Will the Wise, you are still in the closet. Would you like to come out?”

Will’s eyes flutter wide for a moment before he nods. Huh. 

“Umm. Sure– yeah, I leave the closet.”

“Mina turns to you with a worried expression.”

“I ask her what’s wrong.”

“Everything? She says. Mina takes out a bag to pack her things into as you talk. I’m supposed to be wed tomorrow to Tyrros, but your friend is right. Something is not right here. I can’t even remember my own brother’s name. I only just remembered that I had a brother to begin with.. She stops packing, and begins to pace around the room anxiously.  I’ve just been so convinced for as long as I can remember that this would be my future. That there were no alternatives. Even if I never wanted to become their Queen, it was the path that I was foretold. Is it wrong of me to even question that? When it’s been uttered by the Gods? I mean, maybe I am losing my mind.”

“I tell her it’s going to be okay.”

“No! It is not!” Mike starts really getting into it now–and, okay.. Maybe there’s something a little deeper going on here. “I am supposed to marry Tyrros in the morning.”

“But.. you don’t want to marry him?”

“No.. She admits, and it sounds like it scares her.”

Will nods. “Okay… um, I approach her, slowly. So.. then why were you going to?”

“I didn’t know there was ever an alternative.” Mike says, meeting Will’s eye. He feels a foot push back into his under the table and a slight blush creeps back up onto his cheeks. 

They take a break a few minutes later so people can use the bathroom. Mike sets up the first big combat scene, then heads up the stairs to take a wiz in the empty bathroom. 

He bumps into Will in the kitchen on the way.

“Hey–”

“Oh,” Will, his back to Mike,  jumps a little, “ha, hi.” He smiles, “Just getting water.”

“Yeah, sure. By the way, are you still sleeping over tonight?” He asks, vaguely remembering that Will has put some conditional on his proposal. 

“If you still want me too.” Yeah, that was it. 

“Just as much as I wanted you to yesterday.” Mike beams back.

“Cool.” Will smiles, reciprocally. 

“Cool.” He doesn’t know what to do now. He gestures towards the bathroom down the hall.  “Well– um. I’m gonna go take a wiz.” 

Will snorts a little giggle. “Alright.”

“See you back down there?”

“See you.”

“I don’t get this–she can’t remember her brother because of a curse?” Max asks, trying to follow along. The party has been playing for at least four hours now. 

“Well–what can break the curse?”

“True love’s kiss.”

“But the prophecy foretold–”

“–her true love has to be a sorcerer.”

“So.. it’s Will?”

“Yooo– bingo, Will the Wise is getting lucky!”

Will blushes. Mike really hopes he likes this character. He hopes that he’s caught on to the way Mike designed her for Will. He also hopes Will hasn’t thought too much about how she is fem-princess-runaway-bride-Mike-Wheeler. “Are– am I.. does she want me to?”

“Dude, she spent the whole walk here from Geldoor bumping into you.” Yeah, Mike had mentioned it like four times. As El the Ethereal talks, Mina bumps her shoulder into Will the Wise. “She’s totally got the hots for you!” Dustin exclaims, because it really is obvious. 

“Okay, we’ll set up camp for the night.” Lucas says, “Will the Wise, go talk to the girl in blue.”

“Mina– her name is Mina.” Dustin corrects. “She’s not even wearing blue anymore, remember? She had to change into battle gear.” 

“Okay– I pull Mina aside and ask her if we can take a walk.” Will says.

Alright.. This is the fun part. “She blushes and accepts, following you into the woods.”

“Mina.. I’ve been thinking about your curse.” Mike listens on the edge of his seat, swallowing dryly. Jesus–relax, it’s just a game. “I think maybe I can help.”

“Mina looks up at you, confused. You think you could help me recover my memories? She asks. But I thought–”

“Yes, well, here’s the thing. I am a sorcerer, I explain to her, taking her hand. I notice how the moonlight is reflecting beautifully in her dark eyes.” Will looks really cute when he gets into character. Mike likes how Will looks into his eyes when he says it. Will has beautiful eyes. He’s glad Will is sitting next to him so they can be close, their ankles locked beneath the table. “And, I thought maybe–”

“You should kiss me.” Mike says, then pauses. Fuck. “I mean, you should kiss me.” he repeats again in the character voice. 

“Yes! I say, it might break the spell.” Will agrees. 

“Mina nods, curious about your plan. She’s about to speak when she hears a bout of laughter off in the distance coming from your campsite. She pulls away from you a little. Roll for perception.” 

“..twelve?”

“Good enough–you notice that Mina is nervous.”

“I ask her what’s wrong.”

“I just.. Worry. She says.”

“..that’s it?” Max interrupts. “Seriously, no wonder this game takes for fucking ever–”

“Shh–”

“What do you worry about?”

“I worry that once I kiss you.. I’ll never be able to go back.” Mike says, pausing as he feels strangely breathless. He shakes it off and goes on with his monologue. “I’ve long accepted the fate of my life without love. Once this plan succeeds–if it does–how will I ever go back to living it without you?”

“Why would you have to do that?”

“Because–because you’re a.. Sorcerer. A- and, my people. There’s the stigma. Even if I don’t marry Tyrros, do you really believe there is a world where we could be together? I mean– I’m afraid.” Mike feels it rushing out now, off script and messy. “I’m afraid, Will. What if they discover that I have run away with you and my clan come for your and your brave group of adventurers–”

“I know not everyone in this world accepts out magic–”

“They’ll hunt you down like a witch! Besides, am I to just ignore the rules set by forces much more powerful than I? You’ve seen how the gods punish those who disobey, and may he be a real deity or something more sinister Azerthowl will smite us both if I do not return to the clan where I belong. And– and they’ll know. I will never be able to go back to being their beloved princess again. I’ll never be their Queen– I didn’t even want to be but– but don’t you see how that is terrifying– how it is truely quite horrific that I might love a sorcerer?”

“..Mike?”

So.. maybe he lets it get a little out of hand.

When Mike breaks his gaze from Will–who is looking cute as ever but slowly became a deep shade of red, face morphing into a funny wide eyed expression–he realizes that the whole party (aside from Max) is staring at him with some level of concern. 

“..hey, are you okay, buddy?” Dustin asks

“Wh-what? Why wouldn’t I be okay?” He is deeply confused. 

“Nothing, no, it’s cool.” Lucas says. “I’ve just never seen you cry for a campaign before, is all.”

“Holy shit– he’s crying?!” Max asks.

What? No he’s not–oh. He is. 

A sinking feeling envelops Mike’s whole body as a wave of intense nausea slowly comes over him and shit, is he going to be sick right now? No, right? There’s no way– he just needs to calm down.

“Really, though, Mike, you don’t look so good.” Dustin says, concern double fold now as he gets up from his seat. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry– I–” He swallows, unsure. “I feel kind of sick–”

The problem is, he’s suddenly making all of the connections that had somehow been completely subconscious before this moment. Every bit of interesting, even exciting, lore that he wrote for Mina suddenly clicks into place in his own life. The clan, the conformity, the curse from above–it’s all there in plain sight, paralleling his home and his town and the specials they run on sixty minutes about what’s going on in California and he might be sick right now, actually. 

For the first time he’s really seeing all of his own fears out in the open, unbridalled. It’s completely overwhelming. He’s also having this panic attack quietly, in his own head, in front of the whole party. 

“You look sick–maybe it was something you ate?” Dustin offers helpfully. “Do you think you’re gonna barf? I can grab the trash can?”

That’s the last thing he wants to do right now. “Um..” 

“I’m getting it– just in case.” 

“Maybe we should leave off there?” Lucas suggests, about the campaign. “I mean, it is like, close to midnight anyways. If you’re sick, we can always finish another weekend?”

“Yeah, I’m like, super over this righ now.” Max adds on, but then softens her words a little. Maybe she’s taking mercy on him. “It was actually pretty fun though–I would definitely finish it another night.”

Mike, for his part, is not really listening. He’s staring off at the carpet trying to focus on breathing. Where did all of the oxygen go? He hears some other sounds, but it’s like they’re underwater. It’s been almost a year since his last panic attack, and he hasn’t had one in front of the party since they were fifteen. 

“I’m fine.” He says, pulling himself together and standing up like his head isn’t spinning. He ignores the way the room stares at him like he’s lost his marbles. “But– um, yeah. I think we’re not going to be able to get through the whole thing tonight anyways.. Raincheck for next week?”

A long pause rings out before Dustin speaks up. “Yeah– sure thing, buddy.”

“Totally, just, uh, get some rest, man.” Lucas says, giving him a concerned but sweet smile. Mike ignores how silly he feels right now. He can burn with embarrassment later. Now he just needs to get them all out of his basement. 

Eleven is staring at him a little too closely. He wonders if her powers have somehow leveled up without him knowing and she is walking around in his mind right now, no blindfold necessary. But then again, maybe it doesn’t take psyonic abilities to read his mind. “Feel better, Mike.” She says earnesly, before leading the party out of his basement. 

Will lingers behind. 

“So.. um, should I catch a ride home with El?” He asks and somehow it makes Mike feel worse. He must see the disappointment in Mike’s expression, though. “You know, just because you’re not feeling well.”

He wants to tell Will to stay, and that it’s okay. But honestly, it’s now. He feels dizzy and carsick and overwhelmed. “Yeah..” Mike says after a long minute. “That’s probably for the best.”

Will nods, and Mike sees the disappointment flash over his face for just a second before it’s washed away by something sweeter. God, he’s so selfless. “Raincheck on the sleepover too?” Will asks and Mike feels his face heat up. 

“I’d like that a lot.” Mike admits.

Will smiles. “Me too..”

“Cool.” Mike smiles, his anxious look fading slowly into something more hopeful. 

“Cool.” Will echoes, heart in his throat. 

They sit there for an extra few seconds looking at each other, and Mike thinks about changing his mind. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have Will here for this shit he has to process. In fact, maybe he could even consider opening up to Will. Maybe he would understand..

The sound of Mike's front door opening stirs them both from their pause. Will blushes. 

“Oh– I should probably go catch her then.” He says, and makes for the stairs. “Goodnight Mike, feel better!”

He gathers his head enough to call after him as he leaves. 

“Bye Will!” He calls, wanting nothing more than to hop up on his feet and follow after him. He doesn't though. “See you, Will..”

-

Once upon a time there was a magical realm called Hawklandia. Here, everything about life was determined by the rivalry of two kingdoms–Saltoria and Peppercornia. For centuries, little could be done to prevent the blood from being spilt as the two dynasties battled for the very heart of Hawklandia. 

However, things began to change when the young prince, Michael of Saltoria, befriended a poor boy from the under city. His name was Will the Wise and he possessed a power to see visions of a brighter future. He told the prince tales of a young group of fighters in Peppercornia that were planning on staging an uprising against King Henry. With Henry out of power, Princess Elenor would take her rightful place on the Peppercornian throne and Saltoria would finally be able to negotiate a peace treaty. However, when that day came, Prince Michael would become engaged to Elenor of Peppercornia. This was the only way to ensure peace between the kingdoms. 

However, there was one major problem with this prophecy. Sir Micahel of Saltoria was a dirty traitor to his people and responsibilities, for he could not marry the Princess. He was already in love–something forbidden by the monarchy. Worse was that it was no maiden who had stolen the Prince’s heart–it was his best friend, Wil–

“MIKE, where the hell are my keys?” 

Jumping about a foot in the air, Mike slams his journal shut. “Jesus FUCK Nancy! Don’t you knock-”

“You’re not naked Mike, calm down.” She snips back, walking right into his room to start searching for the missing keys. “I have to be at the middle school to pick up Holly in ten minutes, so where are the car keys?”

“Oh my god, chill out, they’re right here.” He groans, keeping his little journal securely tucked under an arm and glued to his ribs as he crosses the room, picking up a pair of jeans he wore yesterday and taking the keys out of the pocket. 

“It’s like, 3pm dude. Why are you still in pajamas?” Nancy questions, clearly in a mood this morning. 

“Because I’m sick, asshole.” Mike bites back. “Why do you think I’m not at school?” 

She pauses for a moment, considering this for the first time. Her eyes flicker around the room from the tissues scattered across his floor to the cold bowl of mostly untouched soup. Her face softens, just a little. “Do you need anything from the store?”

“Nope.” He groans. “Just get out of my rooooooom.”

“Fine. I’ll be back in 20.” 

Mike waits for his sister to leave before opening his journal again and ripping out the two pages he just scribbled in. He folds them, once, twice, then kneels by his bed, lifting the droopy comforter and digging through the clutter to find the shoebox beneath that says Mike’s Personal Belongings DO NOT OPEN scrawled across it, just in case someone–like his mother–were to find it while, say, cleaning his room. 

He lifts the top, pressing down on the stacks of unsent letters addressed to California and similarly folded lined paper that are just threatening to burst out. If he keeps this up, he’s going to need a second shoebox. 

“MIKE!” 

He groans. He thought Nancy was leaving. 

“WHAAATTT?!!” He yells back, voice gruff and scratchy, the act of projecting sending him into a short coughing fit. 

“WILL’S HERE TO SEE YOU!” Nancy calls back up to him. He hears the telltale sound of Will’s light footsteps tiptoeing up the stairs, like even now he is afraid to upset the peace of the Wheeler’s home. 

“Shit!” He cusses, quickly closing the box and shoving it back under his bed before springing himself up and under his comforter like he’s Ferris Bueller or something. 

A soft knock comes at his door. At least Will knocks. 

“Come in!”

He still feels bad for blowing Will off the other night, especially since his anxiety manifested physically into a cold and he missed school today. 

“Hey,” Will says sheepishly, as he pushes open the door. 

“Hi.” Mike echoes back with an equally soft smile. “You’re here.” 

It should come out like a question, because really, Will has no reason to be here. Mike hasn’t checked in with the party since Saturday, but considering the state they left him in, he was sure everyone would assume he came down with a stomach bug or something. It doesn’t though. It comes out more like a princess who has just awoken from her slumber to find a handsome prince in her quarters.   

God, he really is a hopeless romantic.

“Um, yeah, heh,” Will smiles, awkwardly shuffling into the room and closing the door behind him, germs be damned. “I came to check in on you since you weren’t in class today.” Will clarifies, then reaches around into his backpack. “Oh– and to bring you your homework.”

Mike’s dreamy smile drops. “My hero.” He says sarcastically.

“I am.” Will laughs. “It’s calculus. You need it.”

Mike groans again. Will’s right. He really does need it. He’s been starting to fall behind in that class and even one day off could mean the difference between a B+ and a C-

“How am I even supposed to interpret this?” He asks, staring at the algorithms like it's all Greek. “Seriously, I can hardly comprehend this shit when I’m present for Miller’s lectures. This is such bull.”

Will tilts his head with a soft smile. He looks sweet, all big eyes and soft edges. “It’s not so bad.”

“I can’t even tell if this is supposed to be logs.” Mike says, staring at the paper in front of him.

“It is.” Will says, gentle. “It’s differentiation. Here– can I sit?” He asks and Mike’s heart leaps and bounds in his chest like a galloping horse. What would Will look like riding a horse? He should write that into his story..

“Yeah, please.”

That’s how Will ends up in his bed, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Mike as they work through the homework together. Will talks him through it with the patience of a saint. 

So you take the natural log– 

What the fuck makes it natural? 

Then you simplify. 

Yes, please–simplify all of this shit. Who the fuck needs to know this anyways? 

Doesn’t your dad do financial data analysis for a living? 

I don’t know, it’s something with spreadsheets.. Wait, how did you know that? 

He talked about it at dinner… like, a lot of times–Mike, do you listen to anything your dad says? 

Obviously not. Wait shit–

“–aren’t you worried about getting sick?” Mike says, realizing suddenly how selfish it was to let Will into his bed. 

“No,” Will shrugs, completely unbothered.

Mike shoves him out of the bed and onto the floor.

“Wh–AAH, Mike! What the hell!” Will cusses as he hits the floor. 

“You’re going to catch my germs!” He says, a strange guilt settling into his stomach. He’s infected. Why didn’t he think about this before? And here’s Will, poor, sweet, wide eyed Will Byers who never had an immune system strong enough to fight off a case of the sniffles, and he’s totally not even thinking about Will at all when he lets him crawl into his bed. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

“It’s fine, Mike, I don’t care about getting sick–”

“Because you never care.” Mike says.

Will is deeply confused. “What does that mean?”

“It means, you’ll never put yourself first.” Mike says. It’s something he knows is a hereditary flaw of the Byers–they’re all selfless to a fault. And here is Mike, selfish and tainted, spoiling everything once again.  “You shouldn’t be around me.”

“I want to, though.”

“No, you don’t!” Mike says, and suddenly it's all rushing out of him again like a bloody nose. The closer Will gets to him, the more danger he’s in. “I’ll make you sick, Will, I– I’m going to hurt you like I always do.”

“What does that even mean–”

“I’m always hurting you and I’m sick and it’s not just this stupid cold, Will, you should just stay away from me for good.” 

He feels a little stupid and dramatic as it comes out of his mouth, but it’s real. It's everything he’s been afraid to admit for the longest time, because he knows Will Byers almost as well as he knows himself and the question was probably never if Will would follow him, but should Mike let him?

“Mike?” Will’s voice cuts through his cloudy mind. “Look at me.”

He does.

“I’m not going to stay away from you.” He says, something determined in his eyes. It almost breaks Mike, his guilt eating him up.

“But.. what if I ruin us?” Mike asks, his voice too fragile. Too soft. 

It becomes all too clear in that moment that for once, they are on the same page about what this is really about. He’s not sure when that happened, if it was now or Saturday, or Friday, or maybe even a long time before that. But they both know what Mike’s really afraid of at this moment. 

“You won’t.” Will says with more confidence than he’s had in a long time. “But no matter what happens, we do it together,” He says, “right?”

Togethr. Always together. As brave as Mike has been at one point or another, he’s not brave enough to save Will from himself. He’s going to corrupt him. He can’t stop himself. He’s never been selfless like the Byers. 

Will leans forwards, pressing the back of his hand against Mike’s forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up right now.”

He blames it on the fever induced delusion. 

“So you think I’m hot?”

Will has no such excuse.

“Yes.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, like neither of them can really believe Will said that. Especially Will, who opens his mouth again like he wants to take it back, but then he closes his mouth. Then he opens it again. Then closes it. Mike sweats, but maybe that’s the fever, as he waits in anticipation, feeling the bedsheet shift slightly as Will balls them in his hand, squeezing tight.

 “..But,” he watches Will force the words out. “I think beautiful suits you better..” 

Mike flushes bright pink, matching Will’s tone as the brunette begins stumbling over his words. “Shit– sorry, that was stupid, it sounded better in my head–” 

Mike is selfish. 

He kisses Will, smack on the lips. 

It’s too late now. Any germs he could have spared Will from linger on their wet lips as they slowly part, wide eyed and breathless. 

Will is selfless. 

He surges forwards again, kissing Mike back with not an ounce of doubt, like this is his choice. Like Mike hasn’t doomed them both. 

Will comes down with a cold a week later. Mike, apologetic and devoted, sleeps on his floor all weekend despite Will’s attempts to convince Mike he doesn’t need a full time caretaker. Mike refuses to leave. Like they always promised, whatever this brings, they will face it together.