Chapter Text
“What um…” Will begins, a bit distracted by Mike still rubbing the soft pad of his thumb across his cheek.
(It’s a very nice distraction so he doesn’t really mind it.)
“What about your secret?”
(Will likes this game now, likes finding out things about Mike he’s never known before, and likes that if they hadn’t started trading secrets, they might not be here.)
Mike’s eyes, the ones Will has drawn so many times before, the ones that he has loved for his whole life, the eyes he will love for lifetimes after lifetimes, are on him.
(They never left.)
His hands, the ones Will has held many times when they were younger, the ones that are warm and oh so familiar, the hands that have made worlds out of pencils and blurring words, are in Will’s and against his cheek.
(He never pulled it away.)
“I…” Mike swallows. “I don’t think that I’ve ever been a good boyfriend,” he whispers, eyes flickering towards Will’s lips. “That with El I was…I was just a sorry excuse for one.”
“Mike, no you–”
(Even after everything, some habits, like trying to keep two people you love together despite how much it hurts, are hard to kick.)
Mike shakes his head. “No, I was, Will,” he interrupts. “I was a really bad boyfriend and…and that’s not…” he exhales. “I shouldn’t have been, and it wasn’t fair to El that I…that I didn’t…” he trails off with a sigh. “But I think…I’m pretty sure the reason I was such a shitty boyfriend is because…because I was never with you.”
And Will is suddenly flying towards the sun once more, but this time, it’s not burning him to a crisp or melting the wax holding his wings and sending him crashing down into the unforgiving sea.
No, this time he’s just flying, the sun warm and lovely because maybe…maybe it wants him too.
“It’s like…” Mike furrows his brows. “Like you’ve always been here, and I think…” he shakes his head. “No, I know that I’ve been…” he swallows, “…falling into you my whole life,” he admits softly.
(Huh, Mike’s been falling and Will’s been flying.)
(Falling is the risk of flying.)
“I just…I couldn’t help it, Will,” he continues.
“Why?” Will can’t help but ask.
(Why me? Why out of all people? Why not El? You were with her, so why me now?)
“Because…because it’s you, Will,” Mike says, like it explains everything, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
(Maybe it does and maybe it is.)
“You’re…you’re my best friend,” the boy continues. “You are everything good in my life. Every moment I’m not with you is like…it’s the worst, Will,” he tells the other boy. “Like…” he bites his bottom lip (the side not busted) in thought.
Will feels a strong desire to gently tug it from its place and rub his fingers over the thin layer of skin there.
Oddly enough, it doesn’t feel so wrong to think like that anymore.
“It’s like…like nothing makes sense,” Mike finally says. “Like the whole world is a mess and everything is confusing and everything is in a different language, and it’s like…it only makes sense when you’re around.”
A rush of love, so pure and blissful and lovely and so very familiar that Will can’t imagine ever living without it, crashes within and he smiles too.
“And when El was…” Mike runs his tongue against his teeth. “I guess I thought I was…supposed to be with her, you know? Because that’s what I was…that was what was…when you see a girl it’s supposed to…” he shakes his head, as if he’s just confusing himself. “But I–I want you.”
(I want to kiss you.)
(I want you.)
Will’s heart is going a million miles a minute. It’s beating rapidly and loudly, and it feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest any second, so he moves his free hand to his chest, placing it above his heart in hopes to keep it from escaping.
He feels his heart thumping against the palm of his hand, racing at the words of the boy who has claimed a piece of him that no one else could ever have.
“What is it?” the dark-haired boy asks, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
Will moves his hand away, suddenly feeling very shy. “My heart,” he breathes, curling his hand around his pant leg.
Mike then moves his hand from off Will’s cheek and places it right above the other boy’s heart and if it could go any faster, it certainly would be.
“I can feel it,” the boy confirms in a whisper.
The action and the words feel far more intimate than the kiss they shared not even an hour ago.
“I…I want you too,” Will finally admits, even though the other boy probably knows.
And just for a moment, Will feels the way you do when you suddenly realize you’ve swum out too far and the water is over your head, scared and unknowing if you can go back before the water fills your lungs.
But the feeling is gone as quickly as it came because Mike is smiling bigger than any Will’s ever seen before.
(None of this is wrong, is it? It can’t be.)
But even if it was, it wouldn’t matter, he had Mike, after all.
(Hell can’t be bad enough that this isn’t worth it.)
Mike then leans forward, not even moving his hand, as he kisses Will once more.
The kiss is soft and warm and slow and completely breathtaking and Will’s whole body feels electric.
This kiss is different from their first kiss, less like an explosion but more of a soft kind of love, but it tastes the same, and it’s just as perfect.
(Safe to say, the novelty of kissing Mike Wheeler hasn’t worn off, nor will it ever, given that it’s Mike Will’s kissing, of course it won’t.)
Mike pulls away, but not far, his nose touching Will’s.
Will smiles softly, breathless and oh so warm and happy because Mike is the sun and Will has been basking in his warmth his whole life.
Mike smiles back and presses a kiss to Will’s collarbone.
The other boy’s skin buzzes, a warm, electric shiver trailing down his spine.
(God, I love him.)
Wordlessly, Mike curls his body around Will’s, wrapping his arms around Will’s torso, like they do it all the time.
(They don’t, but maybe, they’ll start.)
(Please let this become a regular thing.)
Will has never, ever felt safer than he feels in Mike Wheeler’s arms with his face pressed against the soft, warm skin of the other boy’s neck, smelling his shampoo and just him.
And he wishes that they could stay this way forever.
Will wouldn’t mind if he died right here, lying with Mike, legs tangled and breath mingling.
It’s honestly how he would prefer to die.
But he knows that there is a great battle ahead. Vecna is still out there and Max is still in a coma, and they have to save the world again soon, so he’ll just take this for now, lay with happiness for a while, bask in the sun’s warmth, because he has it now.
(He’ll be damned if he ever loses it.)
Will falls asleep, wrapped in Mike’s arms, secrets out in the open, feeling happiness and comfort like nothing he’s ever felt.
He falls into a sleep filled, not with nightmares, but visions of Mike from when they were five with messy hair and small hands trying to play D&D for the first time, and six hiding from bullies at school, and seven playing pirates in the woods behind Will’s house because his parents are fighting, and eight playing with Chester and pretending he’s not sad about things his dad have been saying to him. Will sleeps seeing himself and Mike at every age they’ve ever been together. He sees himself kissing Mike and holding his hand and a future filled with the boy filled with warmth and laughter and love.
(It’s not a trick, it’s perfect.)
Will falls asleep, but not before hearing Mike whisper, voice softer than silk, six words that mean everything:
“You are my nicest secret, Will.”
And truth be told, Mike Wheeler is Will Byers’ nicest secret too.