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Mike thought he knew what hatred was. After all, he had his fair share of assholes to deal with. They came in all shades of revolting: from mundane cruelty in the form of Troy to the primal evil of Vecna.
Mike knew nothing.
Because none of that compared to all-encompassing and devastating feeling that consumed him at the mere mention of the name Carlton. Stupid ass name.
The first time he heard it was from Lucas. Max and Lucas invited Mike for a dinner that was interrupted by the ring of the phone. Mike’s heart skipped a beat like it could just tell who was on the other side of the line even before Max excused herself to answer.
Her joyous laughter echoed through the rooms, making Mike’s stomach swirl with emotion. Max had a ‘Will laughter’ - reserved for him and him only - and Mike recognized it immediately.
He almost gathered the nerve to get up from the table and ask to speak to Will. But if he couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone in the sanctuary of his basement, what could he hope to say with the two of them close enough to hear every pitiful attempt at conversation?
Before he could convince himself the humiliation was a worthy price for hearing Will’s surprised voice, Max returned to them, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary - she practically whistled to herself. Without explaining a thing, she joined them at the table and gave Lucas a triumphant look. That canary must have been quite plump.
Lucas blinked at her and a returning smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Did Carlton come through?”
“Big time,” Max giggled. “Will was panicked out of his mind about what to wear to the concert.”
“I told you, I had a good feeling about him.”
Mike looked between them, lightheaded from the unprompted onset of nausea. “Who is Carlton?”
The brief warning glance Max threw at Lucas didn’t escape Mike’s attention, but it did Lucas’s.
“A dude from Will’s illustrations class. Clearly obsessed with Will, if you ask me.”
Praying his voice didn’t falter, Mike asked, “And Will?”
“Will didn’t dare believe Carlton wanted to be anything more than friends,” Lucas shook his head. “All the flowers and coffees and movie dates must not have been enough to convince him.”
“Well,” Max began, staring directly at Mike, her expression carefully neutral, “you can’t blame him for being scared to misinterpret signals.”
Mike felt his heart beating in his throat under Max’s heavy gaze. He didn’t dare to ask any more questions.
The dinner ended earlier than usual.
The sinking sensation at hearing that name never lessened, growing more each time anybody carelessly mentioned it in the conversation, morphing into something vile and truly poisonous by the time Mike had his first glance at Carlton.
It was through the foggy glass doors of a New York bar where he waited for Will to appear. The five of them had their yearly meetup in New York, visiting Will for his senior year and the exhibition of his work. Mike hadn’t been that excited in a while. Despite him holding on the hopes that nothing would change after they graduate high school even as life mercilessly asserted cruel reality, he was starting to get worried there would come a day when Will existed in his life only as paintings on walls and fading memories.
Mike was counting minutes by the bar stand when he effortlessly spotted the familiar figure behind the door with the soft brown locks. He swallowed, hoping to calm his nerves, but the sudden sight of a bigger shadow embracing Will had Mike clutching at his shirt, trying to scratch out the expanding pain under his ribs.
The door opened and all Mike could glimpse was the yellow-ish jacket and the hand squeezing Will’s shoulder before letting go of him. Will searched the room and when his eyes found Mike’s, a dear old gentle smile appeared on his face. He moved to join Mike, greeting him in a feather-light half-embrace that didn't last long enough to feel any heat from Will's body.
Mike had desperately waited for this evening for months, but he couldn’t remember a single thing about it.
That was his last time seeing Will before the April weekend of 1994.
Max’s and Lucas’s wedding was on the weekend and Will was staying over at the Wheeler’s house. Together with Carlton.
Mike couldn’t trust his senses when his mother told him.
“Will wanted to…” Mike trailed off, hoping his mom would hear the question in his voice.
“He refused as adamantly as he could, but I insisted,” his mom replied cheerly, not picking up on the light tremble in Mike’s fingers.
“But why does the other fa-” his father spluttered under his mom’s warning glare. “The other one has to stay here?”
Mike was disgusted, his insides twisting at the words his father was spewing, but the hidden and most unsightly part of him hoped pathetically that his father would forbid Carlton from staying in their house.
“Ted, you better watch yourself,” his mother’s tone left no room for objections or opinions. “William saved my boy. He gets to stay in this house whenever he wants, with whomever he wants.”
Never could Mike imagine that he would live to regret the day he told his mom again and again about the way Will saved his life. With actual magical powers. A true sorcerer that he was.
“Besides, it was his home for a while, too. I want him to feel welcome here anytime. Right, Mike?” She looked at him, obviously expecting them to be a united front against his father.
He only had it in him to nod, averting his eyes to the plate in front of him.
Just like he did on the night before the wedding with Will and Carlton sitting across from him.
Mike almost passed out, opening the door to Will a few hours earlier. He looked ethereal with his hair messy from the ride and the slightly tired expression on his face. Mike knew that Will was asked to model a few times over his time at college, but it still seemed incomprehensible that anybody was capable of seeing the full extend of Will’s beauty the way Mike did.
How could he have such a nobody hovering next to him and extending his hand to shake Mike’s? Carlton’s face features were too soft, too boring, his hair was stupid, his clothes were tragic, and his handshake was weak. Mike scrubbed his right hand so much, the skin cracked enough for Will to notice and offer him a plaster.
Will and Mike’s mom spent most of the evening talking for all five of them. Carlton answered the questions but didn’t speak out of his own volition. He either didn’t feel comfortable, or didn’t feel the need to make an effort to get to know Mike’s family. Either way, Mike despised him for it.
Mike was wallowing in his misery, as quiet as his father.
Will blushed at Karen’s compliments and laughed at her jokes. He seemed genuinely happy to see her, but worst of all, he didn’t hesitate to give Mike warm reassuring looks, like he cared for Mike being there too.
All the while he made sure to not lean into Carlton nor share any physical touch with him, probably extremely conscious of Ted Wheeler’s eyes on him.
But it did nothing to calm Mike’s anger because he knew very well the unnatural bend of Carlton’s right arm and the awkward hold of utensils with his left. His stupid hand that had touched Mike was now resting on Will’s leg, probably stroking him to keep him calm. Or staking his claim.
Mike caught Carlton’s eyes once and it was enough to know that Mike was right.
It was agony.
His only blessing was the early turndown. Tomorrow was a busy day for all of them, and there was no need to come up with excuses of avoiding Will and his whatever named Carlton.
Mike was locked in his room, left with slowly churning insides that had been soaked in resentment. His mind seemingly stuck on replaying all expressions Will made over the evening: the crinkles of his eyes, the biting of the lip, the nervous giggle, the bashful look down - Mike could do nothing but crave.
These things weren’t supposed to be Carlton’s. They weren’t supposed to be anybody’s but…
But whose?
Afraid to let the thought finally form, Mike slipped out of his room, making his way to the alcohol cabinet and searching for a quick remedy.
That’s when he heard it.
So quiet, almost inaudible.
Laughter and whispering.
Besides the tick of the clock and the hum of the refrigerator, the house was completely quiet at the late hour of the night. It was easy to tell that the sound was coming from the door to the basement.
Against his better judgement or any judgement at all, Mike neared the door, noticing that the latch wasn’t clicked into place, leaving a tiny slit that let sound through.
“Stop it,” Will’s playful groan was like an electric shock to Mike’s body.
“Nope,” came the reply. “I can’t pass up an opportunity like that.”
There were more sounds of laughter and then the unmistakable smack of a wet drawn-out kiss. Mike’s knees buckled. He leaned against the wall next to the door, trying to compose himself. He had to leave. If he ever wanted to keep the walls he built for himself, the bitter dreams that haunted him, or the fickle ghost of a friendship with Will, now was his chance.
“It’s the basement of the Mike Wheeler,” Carlton sounded out his name the same way Mike did his on the few occasions he had to. With nothing but thinly-veiled contempt. “Don’t you want me to fuck you here?”
Mike sucked in his breath.
He had to go. Now.
Before he tried to take Nancy’s leftover gun and shoot that fucker.
But then a sweet, almost shy moan cut through the fog of his mind.
The next thing Mike knew he was pushing the door open making sure it didn’t creak. There was no light on in the house so the door to the basement and the top of the stairs were completely covered in darkness while the street lamps illuminated the bed through the windows of the basement like a stage centerpiece.
Will was sprawled on bed, completely naked. His hands above the head were searching for something to grab on while Will was arching his body high in the air, pressing the top of his head in the mattress. Carlton was between his thighs, swallowing him whole.
“Wait,” Will breathed out but Carlton did something for Will to slap both hands on the mouth, desperately trying to keep the hauntingly beautiful sounds in.
Carlton stopped his ministrations and lifted his head, moving to pry Will’s hands away. “I want to hear you.”
Will dropped back down to bed. “Well, I don’t want anyone else to hear me.” He was chastising Carlton but there was no bite to it.
Carlton bit the inside of Will’s thigh, forcing a hiss out of Will. “Not even Mike?”
Mike gulped just as Will let out a short miserable laugh. “So that he could never look me in the eyes again?”
“He barely does as is.”
Carlton needed to fucking die. What did he know about them?
Will didn’t reply immediately, lost in his thought, but Carlton didn’t seem to mind - too busy placing short little kisses along Will’s hips, not leaving a single spot devoid of his attention. Without meaning to, Mike began to wonder how soft would Will’s skin feel under his lips.
“Do you think he is disgusted by me?” Will’s voice was so quiet that Mike barely caught the question. But once he understood what Will was asking, Mike felt a pit open up in his stomach. He couldn’t believe it. He kept doing it to Will even now, kept making him feel like this.
“Oh, baby,” Carlton snorted but seeing Will’s hurt expression, his voice softened immediately. “Mike is anything but disgusted by you. The boy is so deeply in love with you, it’s honestly almost making me feel pity for him.”
What?
“What the hell are you talking about?” Will sat up, moving away from Carlton’s touch, inadvertently gifting Mike a sliver of relief amidst the crushing panic engulfing Mike’s mind.
“Look around you,” Carlton gestured animatedly. “Every single wall of this room is filled with your paintings. Do you think I wouldn’t recognize Byers original when I see it?”
Will shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. It’s just the relics of our childhood.”
“Okay, how about the fact that his room has that dragon painting you took months to make for him in front of his table?”
“How would you know?” Will gaped at him. “Wait, did you go snooping?”
Mike distantly appreciated Will’s exasperation on his behalf but he was still too stuck on the fact that he was apparently in love with Will. And that this secret was yanked out of the depth of his mind by Carlton of all people.
“That’s besides the point,” Carlton waived it away. “He looks at me like he wants to stab me.”
Mike genuinely thought he hid it better but, surprisingly, he didn’t have it in him to be upset about hurting Carlton’s feelings.
Will squirmed in place. “Maybe- I mean it’s just could be that he’s uhm-”
“Homophobic?” Carlton helped him out and Mike almost did stab him.
But to his absolute horror, Will nodded.
“Well, I bet he must be one to be able to bury his feelings for you that deep. But then the way he looks at you is like you’re a goddamn miracle.” Anger rose in Carlton’s voice. “You are, but you are my miracle.”
“No,” Will shook his head. “That’s just how Mike looks at me. It means nothing, he did this our entire childhood.”
Mike felt the first tears streak his cheeks.
“Baby,” Carlton said softly.
Will looked at him but then averted his eyes, blinking his tears away. “Please, let it go.”
“You still want him to love you, don’t you?”
Mike was holding his breath, waiting for the answer, realizing he was terribly desperate to hear that yes, Will still craved his love, that it wasn’t a silly crush for him in high school, that he needed Mike just as badly as Mike needed him.
“Yes,” Will said firmly and Mike felt exhilarated, like the world finally made sense, like it finally had gravity. “As a friend. I want him to love me enough to truly be my friend again.” And just like that, Mike’s world lost its axis just as soon as it found it. “I let myself hope so much that he felt something more for me it almost killed me. Twelve years. I was in love with him for twelve years.”
The number was terrifyingly accusatory. It couldn’t be real, could it? Mike remembered combing through looks, words and gestures when Will came out to them, trying to figure out when it started. When it stopped. If it stopped. Amidst the crushing regret and guilt after El died, sometimes all Mike could do is fantasize that Will still loved him, but never deigning to hold his gaze long enough to know for sure.
“But since Jane… All I want is for him to finally find happiness. In any way he needs it. I hoped it could be with me, but…” Will trailed off again, his look caught on their first DnD set displayed on one of the shelves. He returned his teary gaze to Carlton. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for talking about him. You must feel-”
“Hey,” Carlton took Will’s hands in his. “Stop it. Talk to me about him. Talk to me about everything. You can’t imagine how much I wish I could have been there for you when you were younger, to help you go through everything. This thing? The listening? It’s as easy as breathing, baby.”
Will laughed with obvious relief but there was still pain contorting his features. “I don’t deserve you.”
Mike wanted to rip his own useless heart out. Anything to amend the hurt he seemed to have single-handedly carved into Will.
Carlton pinched Will’s cheek. “You are an idiot,” he said affectionately. “You deserve the world. I’m just lucky you accepted my humble self as a consolatory prize.”
“You’re the idiot one,” Will punched his shoulder. “The best part of my life began with you.”
Mike pressed hands to his mouth, afraid to sob.
Carlton only laughed and maneuvered Will back into lying position. “Then let me make you feel good. Indulge in your fifteen-year-old self’s fantasy.”
Will blushed but didn’t rebuke the statement. He let Carlton pester his face with kisses and then slowly make a trail down Will’s body, unwillingly searing the map of Will’s most sensitive places into Mike’s memory for life.
It was unfair. It was supposed to be Mike nibbling at Will’s jaw and having Will leave gentle scratches on his back.
Carlton parted Will’s legs and put a pillow under his hips with practiced ease that makes Mike sick.
There was a wave of shiver that went through Will even though Carlton hadn’t touched him there yet. Mike realized belatedly that it was rather cool in the basement. If it were him down there with Will, he’d put socks on Will, make him comfortable. He could’ve been so much better to him than Carlton.
Carlton took Will’s feet, giving each a gentle kiss, and placed them on his chest. “Warm enough?”
Will’s eyes fluttered. He nodded.
Carlton smiled and took his fingers into his mouth, coating them in saliva before bringing them in between Will’s legs.
“Carlton,” Will opened his eyes and found Carlton’s waiting gaze already on him. “I love you.”
Carlton smiled. The easy smile of the man who didn’t fuck up the best thing that has ever happened to him. “I love you too, Will.”
Unable to take a second more, Mike slipped out to the echoes of Will’s tantalizing moans forming the name Mike hated more than anything in his life.
Besides maybe one thing. Himself.