Archive of Our Own ^beta

The party finds themselves, perhaps inevitably, in a tavern.

The Lucky Robin is a small establishment, with a bar on one side and five round tables strewn about the rest of the room. There is a big circular glass panel in the center of the wooden ceiling, which provides the only light in the space. Unlit torches line the walls, waiting to be useful at nightfall. It’s cozy. Will The Wise thinks he’d enjoy coming here under different circumstances. Unfortunately, they are here for business.

They were called to the small village of Riverspire to retrieve an important item, stolen out of the village’s chapel by bandits. Will isn’t sure what that item is quite yet, but he intends on finding out.

The party has separated, Lucas is inspecting the chapel, trying to look for any tracks of where the bandits may have fled to. Dustin is speaking to the barkeep and assorted other patrons, trying to charm his way into information. As for Will, his job right now is to speak with Sir Gabriel Whepler, so-called chief of guard. Though Will doubts he has any more than one or maybe two subordinates.

Sir Whepler sits in the back table, partly obscured by its position in relation to the skylight. He’s dressed in armor and carries a sword across his back. A sturdy heater shield with a heart emblem is propped against the table, hiding his legs from view. He looks intimidating, swishing a cup around without drinking. Will thinks scaring people from talking to him is probably the goal. Once he comes closer, he realizes Sir Whepler looks young, not much older than Will himself, if at all. He has dark hair and freckles and keeps crossing and uncrossing his legs one in front of the other, switching them around every few seconds, as if he can’t bear to stay still. Will wonders what he must be doing at the tavern if that is the case.

He approaches the man slowly, making sure to tap his staff on the ground with each step to alert Sir Whepler of his presence. This turns out to be unnecessary, as the chiefs eyes turn to look at Will before he’s even halfway to the table. His expression is neutral, but there’s something about his eyes that glints with interest.

“Hello, could I take a seat?” Sir Whepler nods, and so Will props his staff against the table and slides into the bench across from the guard.

“Good evening,” he trails off, swishing his cup some more and raising an eyebrow, waiting to be filled in.

“Will. Will the Wise.”

“Will The Wise. Wizard, I assume?” he nods in confirmation and Sir Whepler half smiles at him, “what brings you to Riverspire?”

“We’ve heard about the theft, me and my party, that is… We wish to help. You’re Sir Gabriel Whepler, right? Chief of guard?”

This grants Will a genuine smile, it’s nice.

“Please, call me Gabe.”

“Alright, Gabe,” Will finds himself smiling back at the familiarity, maybe this will be simpler than he believed, “As I was saying, me and my party heard about the theft, but we don’t have any details, so I was hoping you’d be able to fill us in some more?”

Gabe raises an eyebrow again, “may I ask why? It’s not like we have a sizable reward, being as small a village as we are.”

“We’re adventurers, helping people is, like, what we do.” Will shrugs, it’s the truth but it sounds nice all the same, convincing. Gabe mimics his smile easily enough.

“And your party is…?”

“Me, Dustin, and Lucas,” Will answers, pointing vaguely at the direction of the bar, Gabe’s eyes tracking his movement, “Dustin is over there talking to the barkeep. Lucas is our ranger, he’s out scoping the area around your chapel, looking for tracks.”

“I thought you said you did not know what you were looking for just yet?”

“Well, we know it’s a sacred artifact of the river goddess-“

“Yarah,” Gabe corrects. Will falters for a second, he should probably have found that name out before coming over. The villagers all worship the goddess and he really does not want to offend.

“Yarah, yes, thank you.” Gabe smiles at him again at that, so Will thinks he might’ve not done too bad, “we know an artifact of Yarah’s is missing, that it was stolen by bandits, and that it is important for your River festival next month. Not much else, though.”

“I suppose I must be thankful not much information has gotten out,” Gabe puts his cup down and leans back, looking at Will slowly up and down, “it is a crown. Made of the precious stones found in the river, shaped to resemble seashells. It has a special place in the altar, so people can go and pay their respects. I don’t suppose we ever had much security but,” he looks down, sighing with his full body, “it’s just not the type of thing to be stolen, not in these parts. Most settlements around worship Yarah, they wouldn’t wish to disturb it. They say it’s what keeps the river from flooding.”

“So no idea of who could’ve taken it?”

“No. But if you are going to look then I shall help you.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you need to keep an eye on the village?”

“I’m sure Stephen and Jay can handle things for a while, I wouldn’t miss out on this,” Gabe waves a hand dismissively at that, then locks eyes with Will, grinning widely, “besides, I couldn’t let someone risk themselves in my favor with no backup. Especially no one as beautiful as you.”

♡

And with this sentence, Will Byers feels like all air has made itself vacant in his lungs. He snaps his eyes to make contact with his best friend’s, half hidden behind the DM screen. “What?!”

Mike Wheeler, for one, doesn’t look remotely troubled. He simply looks at Will like he always does, intent and soft around the edges. He pretends not to notice Dustin and Lucas staring at him like they can’t believe their own ears. Mike just smiles.

“Dustin and Lucas are always sweet talking the NPCs and I thought you just didn’t want that but then you came out and,” he shrugs, “I don’t know, I guess I wanted to give you someone you could do that with too. If you want.”

Will does nothing but stare, his insides equally mortified and pleased. Fluttering with butterflies that have no business being there. Mike has always been such a thoughtful friend. It’s sweet. He had no reason to suspect this would hit too close to home to Will.

He must stare for too long because Mike turns sheepish, his eyes never leaving Will’s as his expression changes, “do you not like him? I can stop, he doesn’t have to come either if you really don’t want to.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Will feels like his throat is raw. Maybe he should get some water, away from the table. Maybe he should stay away forever. “That’s… thank you, Mike. As long as it’s fine with everyone else?”

He looks around, half hoping one of them will say something unfavorable towards the new character. Will knows he could never say no to Mike, even more so with something like this. But maybe he doesn’t have to, if the others do it first. They’ve been nothing but supportive, which Will appreciates because he doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost any of them, but maybe it’s different with something so straightforward. Or at least Will hopes it is because he doesn’t know if he can take Mike flirting with him, even if just for a game.

Lucas is squinting at the traitor sitting behind the DM screen like he suspects something. Like he can see through whatever Mike is doing right now. Will doesn’t like to admit it but Lucas has always been better at calling Mike out on his bullshit than him. Maybe he’s just too biased.

Dusting taps his hands on the table, clearly debating something over, “he’s a paladin, right?” Mike nods and Dustin nods back, “he should come. We could use the healing and an extra fighter is always useful. Right, Lucas?”

Lucas snaps himself off whatever train of thought he was in, “yeah it’s fine. He can come.”

Mike grins like he’s won something.

♡ ♡ ♡

Will’s personal brand of hell had, in a way, started about six months back. It only so happened that six months is also how long it took for the punchline to hit.

He, his mom, and Jonathan had moved into the Wheeler’s. Their old house sold and Hopper’s cabin only able to fit himself and El.

They’d all been a wreck in the beginning, even if for vastly different reasons. Mike was acting weird, twisting himself away from touch and seemingly avoiding all of his friends, El included half of the time. Lucas bubbled with worry for Max, spending hours on end at her bedside and rarely sleeping. Dustin had taken Eddie’s death hard, hardly talking to anyone anymore. And Will, well, he had to deal both with the knowledge of the supernatural threats to his life and everyone he’d ever known and with the fact he is now living in the house of his childhood best friend, the boy he loves who is dating his sister.

They were falling apart, little by little. Pulling themselves away until there was little else to pull. Surprisingly, Mike had been the one to suggest playing D&D again. He’d asked Will, one day shortly after dinner. Just one campaign, he had said, a one off short game where they could forget who they were and all the messed up things around them. A small distraction.

The first time they sat around the small table in the Wheeler’s basement it had felt off, Will and Jonathan’s makeshift beds making the room smaller and the energy between the party awkward and stilted in ways it had never been before.

Yet, it still worked. I worked really well, in fact. Lucas had been able to forget, just for a while, getting properly invested into the storyline. Dustin had laughed for the first time in months, at the consequences of Lucas rolling a Nat1. Mike and Will had been able to look at each other for longer than a fraction of a second again.

One game turned into two, that turned into three, and next thing Will knew they were playing every week, their campaigns slowly growing longer and longer. It had been so easy to immerse themselves into their old characters again, Mike’s stories taking them to remote villages, far off castles, and forbidden forests. It was a little piece of the past that made real life feel safer, even if only a little.

Sometimes, when Will focused himself on the game and let himself forget, it was almost like they were still only twelve and nothing bad had ever happened to them. It was not true, of course, but he liked pretending.

It was about four months into playing that Will decided he had to come out to his friends. In these few months they’d grown close again, picking up the habit of having movie nights every week and hanging out most days. Lucas still went to the hospital everyday, but sometimes the others would tag along. They’d all speak to Max, updating her on their lives and all the boredom she was missing, and hope she would be able to hear. Dustin still grieved but he was slowly starting to feel like himself again. He’d taken to playing Eddie’s music during D&D combat, which Will does have to admit is fitting. On days like those, Will felt like they never stopped being best friends.

Yet, Will felt he was lying to them. There was a weight on his chest that could never be lifted, words that felt simultaneously on the tip of his tongue and also buried under several layers of locks and keys. It wasn’t much different than before, but Will supposed the distance had made him lose practice on how to keep himself under wraps.

It was the small comments sprinkled over each day, about the actresses in the movies they see, their girlfriends, or even some of Mike’s NPCs. He felt the more he stayed silent during these conversations the more obvious he seemed. Plus, he wanted to tell them. He didn’t think they would mind, they had always stayed by him when he was bullied. When harsh words for who he is were thrown at his face like punches, his friends had always defended him. So he was pretty sure they’d be accepting. Unfortunately, that did not help the actual reason for why he had been putting his conversation off for years. The one and only Michael Wheeler.

They had been best friends for almost a decade by then and, Will knows, that friendship had always felt a little different. At least for him. Mike was, in many ways, Will’s person. He’d always been. It was Mike who understood him best, Mike who would speak to him so gently but at the same time never treat him like he was breakable, Mike who made him feel like he mattered. Mike who he fell in love with, before even knowing what falling in love was. Mike who he gifted his heart to, having it poured into artwork and delivered under someone else’s name.

Mike Wheeler who would most definitely immediately make the connection as soon as he knew. This certainty terrified Will down to his bones, an impending doom he hadn’t felt since he was twelve. He wouldn’t stop feeling like a liar without telling the party but he also knew he couldn’t tell the others without telling Mike. Either way, he didn’t think he could hold out for much longer without breaking. Something had to give.

♡

Will Byers finally broke on a Wednesday movie night, a month and a half after making his decision, and three weeks before the campaign that would change everything. It had been just the four of them, El having decided to skip as Hopper had some sort of night planned for them. By the glint in her eyes, Will had been pretty sure they too were going to watch a movie and then she would attempt to convince Hopper to let her paint his nails. She had been trying to break him for a while, unsuccessfully thus far. Will hoped that night would’ve been her night.

All five of them had gone to Family Video earlier that day, the four boys arguing among each other on what tape to rent and El striking up some sort of conversation with Robin as she checked out hers. The two of them yelled suggestions every once in a while that, judging by the way they giggled, probably went best ignored. The boys walked the store for maybe longer than was reasonable, having already seen most of the interesting movies available by that point, the true heavy hitters being almost always missing due to high demand. No amount of begging from Dustin had convinced Steve and Robin to break the rules and save a tape for them, claiming the free weekly movies was already enough of a favor. Or rather, it hadn’t convinced them yet. Will was pretty sure Steve would give in about another week or two.

In the end, they rented Ghostbusters at his suggestion. He had been feeling rather nostalgic lately, with their return to D&D, and the memories of the Halloween of ‘84 were still precious to him, despite everything. Plus the actors certainly weren’t bad to look at, he had known that much even back then.

Jonathan had gone out with Nancy, and so they had the basement entirely for themselves. A “new” old TV they had dragged down a couple of months back just big enough for them to huddle around. Dustin and Lucas were on the ground while Will and Mike shared the couch. He tried not to think too hard about their proximity and failed quite miserably.

Something about that night just felt right. With how they shared popcorn and laughed at old jokes, quoting the movie back to one another. With how Mike sat close and allowed Will to share his blanket like they used to do as kids. Will hadn’t felt that light in a long time, maybe years. Something clicked into place then, and he decided he could do it. He would do it. He was going to tell them.

He spent the movie trying to choose the right moment to interrupt, they all had seen it countless times over so it wasn’t like he’d hinder their experience, yet he found himself not having said a single word by the time the credits started rolling. When Mike moved to get up to turn the lights back on, he knew it was then or never.

“Hey guys,” he started, voice a little shaky. Mike stopped dead in his tracks, looking at him intently. Dustin and Lucas turned around from where they were seating to look back at Will, “I need to tell you all something.”

“What is it?” Mike, ever the worrier, asked in a fraction of a second. His eyes scanned Will’s face, presumably looking for any sign of imminent danger. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine.” Will chuckled with the words but it sounded a little wetter than he wished. He rubbed a hand over his right eye, which was threatening to spill over. Huh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make this a big deal, because it like, totally isn’t but…”

“Whatever you have to say it’s cool, man,” Lucas interrupted him, an encouraging smile on his lips gently pressing him forward. “We won’t judge and it’s not dumb or whatever else you’re thinking.”

“Thanks. I just, I’ve been meaning to tell you all, I,” he faltered, his voice breaking. He took another breath and continued, in too deep to back out then, “I like guys,” he couldn’t look directly in their eyes when he said it, hand on his chest to punctuate the words. “I’m gay.”

He had meant it when he said he didn’t think they’d mind but one could never be fully certain with these things. Of how it’d go once it was actually demonstrably real. So once the words were out, he expected silence, an awkward pause, maybe tension in the room for what that could mean for their friendship. Instead, he got an immediate smile from Lucas and a pat in the knee from Dustin.

“That’s cool dude,” Dustin said, and Will could tell he meant it. It was clear he had no idea what the protocol for this kind of conversation usually was, but to be fair, neither had Will. He’d only done it once before, to his mom, twice if he counted Jonathan. Both of which were very different from this. “Proud of you.”

“Yeah,” Lucas nodded, shifting closer and giving Will his full attention. “Thanks for telling us, Will.”

“Yeah?” He looked from one friend to the other, trying to find any clue of a bad thought, any hint of discomfort. He found none. “And it isn’t weird or…”

“Dude! Of course not, you’re our friend,” Dustin immediately said, shaking Will by the knee just slightly, his expression shocked at the mere idea that they’d care. Lucas nodded again, his smile even wider.

“Always will be.”

“Thank you,” Will smiled back, he loved his friends so much. It was then he noticed one of them hadn’t spoken at all. His stomach sunk and he tried not to let the fear seep into his voice when he turned to the boy who was supposed to be his best friend and asked, “Mike?”

Mike was completely frozen, staring at him with an expression he couldn’t read. Will didn’t know when he stopped being able to read Mike like a book, his best friend’s emotions sometimes clearer than his own. He supposed it had been a long while ago, maybe since even before they had moved across the country. He wished he knew what Mike’s stare meant, with eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar, the boy hardly seemed to be breathing.

It took a second, but he snapped out of whatever it was and lunged forward, wordlessly wrapping Will in a tight hug. Mike buried his head deep into Will’s neck and took a deep breath, perhaps his first since Will had said the words.

“We all love you. That doesn’t change anything,” it was spoken low and soft, as if only for Will to hear, “I’m glad you told us.”

Will hugged back a little desperately, maybe the tightest he’d ever had. Mike didn’t seem to mind. It took about three seconds for Lucas and Dustin to throw themselves into the two best friends and make the hug into a group one. Will wished he could spend eternity wrapped up in that one moment.

♡ ♡ ♡

The woods around Hargate River are thick, but not oppressive. The tree tops have fewer leaves than they might’ve had months ago, as the harvest season is supposed to come in soon. The scarce foliage, combined with the naturally wide crown shyness, lets a lot of light in and so Will The Wise doesn’t have to strain to be able to see in the barely lit morning. It’s early, earlier than Will would’ve liked. If it were up to him they’d have stuck around the village some more, properly investigated the nature of this crown. But Lucas had wanted to leave before the trail got too cold and, well, that simply made sense. Will supposes he’ll just have to ask Gabe about it.

Sir Gabe Whepler is currently walking at Will’s side, if not a little behind, guarding all of their backs. Lucas is at the front, opening a path only he can see while the others follow his lead. They walk in companionable silence, following a trail that runs diagonally from the village. It is not perfectly straight but Will thinks that, if he were to map it, it might just run perpendicular to the river. Whoever stole the crown wanted to run away from the water.

There’s a mountain in the distance and Will has a bad feeling that is where they are headed. He doesn’t voice this thought, not yet, instead deciding he needs a distraction.

“So,” he begins, turning to meet Gabe’s eyes, “how did you become chief of guard? I have to admit I’m surprised Riverspire even has enough of a guard to have a chief.”

“You are not wrong,” Gabe chuckles at his words, sending him a warm smile Will refuses to admit makes his insides go a little gooey, “but the village is growing every year, especially with the pilgrimages of the other followers of Yarah coming around since we’ve discovered the crown. It’s not much of a guard quite yet, really, just me and two others. I was trained into my ways by our previous guard, James. It was just the two of us for a while.”

“He worked alone?”

“Yes,” another chuckle, this one sadder, “said he didn’t need anyone else, which I suppose he didn’t. He taught me everything I know.”

“Is he…?” Will doesn’t say the word dead but he’s sure Gabe can hear it by the way his eyes widen.

“Oh no, he’s just retired,” Gabe shakes his head, looking down and tracking his feet with his eyes, mouth never letting go of the small smile. Will wonders if he’s ever been this far into the forest. “He hurt himself pretty badly a while ago and can’t walk without a staff anymore, but he’s doing fine. He’s got a place in the outskirts of the village where he lives with his daughter. She’s an amazing illusionist, I kept trying to get her to join me a while back but she always refused. I know you magic users don’t always get along great but I think you’d like her.”

The thought is… nice, Will supposes it is nice that Gabe is thinking of tying him to his life. Really nice, actually. He tries to imagine what kind of people these must be, “is he also a paladin, James?”

“How did you know I was,” Gabe starts confused and trails off as Will snorts. He makes a little affronted sound, an offended little squeak. It’s cute. “Okay, fair. No, he isn’t. He’s just generally a fighter. He helped with all my training and I just… I guess I wouldn’t have felt complete if I hadn’t gone all the way and taken an oath too, you know?”

“Not really,” Will starts, ready to say something about how it’s fitting, how despite barely knowing him he couldn’t see Gabe being anything but what he is. How he thinks it’s honorable to do what he does. He might’ve said any of these, but gets to say none, as Dustin interrupts them then and, oh god, Will had almost entirely forgot the others were there.

“What kind of oath did you take?” Dustin lets himself fall behind to walk alongside the two of them.

“Devotion. To the village, and my friends.” If Will didn’t know any better he’d think Gabe was blushing a little as he explains, breaking eye contact for the first time since they’ve started talking to one another. “You know, honor, duty, honesty, that type of stuff.”

“Cool,” Dustin says, perhaps oblivious, perhaps entirely too aware of how Gabe had been looking at Will with those soft eyes for the entirety of the past five minutes, “that’s a good one.”

Gabe smiles at Dustin then and something in Will’s gut is upset that smile is directed to anyone but him, even though that is a severely nonsensical complaint. He never should’ve agreed to this. He should’ve just said no to Gabe’s presence in the quest, no matter how much they needed a healer, he’s sure he’s got some potions somewhere that’d do the trick just fine.

He wants to do or say something stupid, like voicing this discomfort or trying to get Gabe’s attention again because now that he knows he can get away with this, this light and barely there flirting that means everything it shouldn’t to him, he doesn’t know how to move on without it. Before he can get to find out what that something stupid would be, they hear Lucas calling them from a couple of feet ahead in the trail.

“Guys, look at this! It must have fallen down when they were running away,” Lucas says, pointing at something on the ground. By his feet is a small gem, shaped like a seashell. It’s red and it glistens against the early morning sun.

Ahead of them, Will spots movement in the trees, five, maybe six shadows stalking along the edges, difficult to be spotted with how well they blend into the trees. Lucas instinctively reaches for an arrow. Gabe unsheathes his sword, shield at the ready.

“Aw, shit.” Dustin puts succinctly. Will feels his stomach drop. Aw, shit indeed.

♡ ♡ ♡

Mike is staring at him.

Not in a malicious way, in fact it is much like any other time Mike had ever looked at Will. His eyes gentle and his expression open, his mouth softly parted and turning into a smile whenever Will does, well, anything. The look is familiar, his in the sense that Mike doesn’t ever really look at anyone else like that. Except El, when they were younger and their relationship was still fresh. He doesn’t think he’s caught Mike looking at El in general in a while. He tries not to think too much about that.

His point is, Mike won’t stop staring. It’d be fine if it was the occasional glance, but it’s constant. His best friend’s eyes locked onto him at all times, sometimes directed at his eyes, often aimed lower. Will tries to catch his gaze at first, but that only makes Mike look away, suddenly really engrossed on the nearest object. Right now, that is dinner.

Will catches Mike’s eyes for what must be the fiftieth time that day, ready to raise an eyebrow and ask him why he was being so weird, but Mike looks away before he can. He looks away, does a double take back at Will, and forces his whole head down. Glaring at the food in front of him and forcefully stabbing it with his fork. Will is cruelly reminded once again of how he cannot make sense of Mike anymore.

They eat dinner in silence, or at least Will does, going as fast as he can without seeming rude. He wants to lay down in bed and forget about Mike’s staring. It’s been about three days since he’s noticed it and he is really trying to not let it get to him, though he finds no success in that endeavor.

His mom and Mrs. Wheeler are talking about the volunteer effort they were planning on joining, Mr. Wheeler eats his food in complete silence. Nancy and Jonathan are playing footsies underneath the table. Mike is playing with his food and pointedly not looking at Will who is certainly not looking back.

Once Will finishes eating, he gets up and takes his empty plate to the sink, rinsing it lightly so as to not overtly trouble whoever has to do the dishes later. They have a whole schedule set up, Will thinks it might be Jonathan. It only takes about ten seconds for Mike to follow, placing his plate on the countertop with a little too much force, his silverware rattling.

“Can we talk?” He whispers, standing way too close if you asked Will. He can practically feel Mike’s breath against his ear, “upstairs?”

Will's stomach sinks as if he’d just been dropped down a rollercoaster with no warning. He manages to nod, “sure.”

Mike nods and walks out of the kitchen, stopping in the doorway to see if Will was coming. He tries to blend into the background so their families won’t clock him following Mike up the stairs and into his bedroom, for the first time since he’s moved in.

Mike’s room is different from what Will remembers. His bed is bigger, his bedsheets a different color, different posters and new road signs hang on the walls. Some of Will’s old drawings are still stuck to a cork board behind his bed. There’s a guitar in the corner of the room. Will had no idea he played. Will wonders then just how much had Mike changed, how much he had missed.

In the wall opposite to the bed sits his painting. Framed and given what Will thinks must be the best spot in the room. He freezes when he notices it. Eyes locked into the red Pyrohydra that represented the last campaign they played before everything. “You framed it?”

Mike stops, turning around at him with those soft eyes once again. His voice is soft when he speaks, “yeah, of course.”

“Cool.” Will feels his throat has gone completely dry, “what did you want to talk about?”

Mike heaves a deep sigh and throws himself into the bed, his feet still touching the ground as he stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t say anything for a while and Will doesn’t push, waiting until his best friend is ready to say whatever it is. After thirty long seconds Mike scrunches his face up, as if he’d eaten something particularly sour.

“El and I broke up.”

Oh. Will’s heart breaks a little for Mike then, all he ever wanted was for him to be happy. And if Will could never be that for Mike, then he hoped El could. He loves both of them so much, the thought of either of them being hurt by this was physically painful. Will slowly crosses the room and sits himself on the bed next to Mike, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Mike breathes, he glances at Will from the corner of his eye just for a second before looking at the ceiling again. “It’s been a couple of weeks actually, I think that’s why she’s been skipping movie nights.”

This makes Will pause. It’s true El hasn’t been to a movie night in since before he came out, a new excuse every time. Plans with Hopper, wanting to spend the night at Max’s side, feeling sick. He can’t believe he didn’t notice. He tries to imagine, then, what it must feel like to break up with your partner in secret and have to then skip on hanging out with your friends, so they don’t notice you’re sitting further apart than normal. Will thinks it would break him. “How long has it been?”

“About a month.”

“Shit, Mike.” Will feels like he has stopped breathing. He has a sudden urge to do something stupid, like hug Mike, or hold his hand. Anything to wipe that sad look from his face. He tries to speak as gently as he can when he asks, “why didn’t you tell us?”

“I don’t know,” Mike laces his hands over his stomach, rubbing his thumbs together, eyes never leaving the ceiling, “I guess I didn’t know how to say it and then you came out and…” He trails off, looking over at Will, his gaze moving up and down over him. While his look is soft, the words make Will flinch and bring a hand over his mouth in horror.

“I’m so sorry,” any apology he gives could never be enough. His stomach churns, his blood runs cold. Mike had kept his breakup to himself for over a month because he hadn’t wanted to upset him. Because he had thought he wasn’t important enough in comparison to Will. Even though the exact opposite is true. “Shit. I didn’t mean to make things about me.”

“No, no, you didn’t.” Mike springs up immediately, turning to face Will in what must be less than a second. His eyes are wide, shocked at the idea. He brings his hands up reaching out to Will in God knows what way, before forcing them down abruptly. Will wishes he had gone through with the touch, whatever it ended up being.

“I mean it. You didn’t. It just felt weird to bring it up, and then too much time had passed and it felt even weirder,” Mike gestures with his hands, his voice frantic, desperately trying to make Will believe in his words. He holds Will’s gaze for what feels like hours, the air between them charged with something he can’t quite pinpoint. In the end, Mike looks down. “The others still don’t know.”

Will feels his heart breaking for the second time that night. Mike had been hurting alone for a month now and Will hadn’t done anything to help him. Hadn’t even realized the boy who was supposed to be his best friend was suffering. He should’ve noticed. He doesn’t know how he didn't.

“I should’ve been there for you.”

“It’s fine,” Mike dismisses him easily, shaking his head and looking back at Will with a sad little smile on his lips. “It was a long time coming I think.”

“Do you want to, I don’t know, talk about it?”

“There’s not much to say,” Mike shakes his head once more, looking at Will and then forward, “I think we never had much in common besides, I don’t know, shared trauma I guess. And it just— wasn’t working anymore. I love her a lot but I don’t think I love her the way,” he falters, his eyes locked on the painting, where it sits on the wall opposite to them. Mike takes a deep break and finishes, “the way she needs me to. We agreed we work better as friends.”

Will supposes he could see that. If the relationship truly had just run its course then, at least it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault. No one would be too hurt. Maybe. He has no experience in the subject to truly know. He had hoped things would work out between Mike and El, that they’d make each other happy where he would always fail. But if it must have come to this, then at least he hoped it happened in the way that caused the least amount of hurt. “It was mutual then?”

“Well, no,” Mike snorts, “she thoroughly dumped me.” He shakes his head with a laugh that comes off as self deprecating, his smile not reaching his eyes. “I tried asking her how to fix it, how to fix us, but she told me there was no fixing us.”

Mike lets himself back down into the bed. “I think she was right.”

“The worst part is I didn’t even feel sad,” his eyes scan the ceiling, as if the answer lies in the overhead lights, “that’s weird, right?” He looks at Will for confirmation, searching for something on his face before closing his eyes tightly and directing his head to the ceiling once more.

“I think I was more hurt that I wasn’t hurt at all,” Mike rakes a hand through his hair, pushing it back and letting his palm rest on his temple. “That makes no sense, does it?”

“It makes sense.” Will says, and it really does. Change sometimes is scarier than it has any right to be, even when it’ll make everything better. Sometimes especially then. He would know. “It’s like, the change itself was worse than the relationship ending, right?”

“Yeah,” Mike looks up at him, the word coming out as little more than a breath, “yeah, I think you’re right.”

“I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t tell me.”

“It’s fine, that’s not why I didn’t tell you.” Will feels himself stop for what must be the hundredth time tonight. Mike says it so casually, as if it were an offhanded remark, as if it doesn’t make Will’s head spin on its axis.

“No?”

“No.” Mike says it softly, his smile turning more genuine. He pats down the bed by his side, inviting Will to lay down beside him. “You didn’t do anything wrong, it was all me and my weird feelings.”

“Okay,” he does lie down in a mirror of his best friend’s position, dragging his legs on the ground and looking at Mike while Mike looks at the ceiling. “I’m always here for you, you know that, right?”

“I do.” Mike turns his head to look at Will then, dark eyes meeting his. With his ever growing hair spread around his face like a halo and the soft smile growing wider on his lips, Will thinks this is the prettiest he’s ever looked. “I really do.”

♡

It just so happens, by pure coincidence, that Will sees El the next day. He’d promised to teach her how to paint with oil pastels, having recently been gifted some by the school’s art teacher, as a thank you for the help he and his family had given after the rift. He’d only mentioned it once and yet she’d remembered him mentioning how all his art supplies got left behind in California. He almost cried at the gesture. After coming back to Hawkins, El had decided she wanted to find out more of who she was, not based on anyone else but herself. And, at her request, Will had agreed to show her the way around every art supply they could find. He likes it, spending afternoons with only each other and whatever pieces their brains could come up with. They don’t do it as often as he’d wish.

So Will goes over to the Hopper’s cabin with his new oil pastels and about twenty sheets of paper, knocking softly at the door three times. For a moment he worries about seeing her again, knowing what he knows now, but then she opens the door with a big smile on her face and a glint in her eyes and he finds it easy to smile back.

They set up on the living room floor, beside the TV. Will gives her a basic overview of the basics, how to blend the colors, and the best angles to hold the pastels. She fills a sheet of paper with scribbles, swatching each color out and attempting the techniques he showed her, grabbing a new sheet of paper when she deems it to her liking. They sketch in silence for a moment, El using a bright green pastel to start some sort of landscape and Will sketching out the TV in front of him using a light base he’ll later build upon. He’s been trying to do some more live drawing as practice, recently.

He sits with that silence for as long as he can, which by any estimate must be only about ten minutes, if that, before bringing up the elephant in the room visible only to him.

“I heard about you and Mike.” He says, his voice shaking slightly, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” El doesn’t look up from her drawing, discarding her current green pastel and picking up a brown one, “it’s not your fault.”

“I know,” Will chuckles. He knows she knows what he meant, but he appreciates it. Especially because something in the back of his mind has been blaming himself. For not noticing they were struggling. For how his feelings masqueraded as El’s weren’t enough. “I just mean, it must suck.”

“I think,” she stops then, laying her pastel down and looking at him, her expression soft. She reaches out to lay a stained hand on his arm, “it sucked worse to pretend to be happy.”

“Are you now? Happy?”

“I am.” She smiles at him, letting go of his arm, “I feel like me.”

Will smiles back at her, really happy for his sister. They’d been further apart recently, living in different places as they are, but he can tell she is genuinely happier. Trying new things and, he supposes, finding out who she is outside of a relationship.

“That’s good.”

“Yes,” she moves down to return to her drawing, picking up an orange pastel, “I wish Max was here,” her voice is tinged with sadness but her smile turns a little sharper and her next words come out in a giggle, “she would love to know I dumped Mike.”

“Yeah.” Will laughs out loud at that, “yeah, she would.”

They sketch together for the next few hours. At some point deciding to make it a game, each drawing on a sheet of paper for a couple of minutes before handing it off for the other one to continue. Will is working on a drawing of a room, where she’d added colorful string lights on the ceiling and a bright pink rug. She was working on a lake scene, where he’d added a squid monster in the water. It’s then that it occurs to him he’d never gotten around to coming out to her.

“Hey, El?” He gently knocks his foot against hers, as they both sit on the ground, facing each other with outstretched legs, “Can I tell you something?” She gives an affirmative hum in response.

“I told the guys this a while back but you were out with Hopper and I guess I never got around to telling you but I,” something on his nervous ramble makes her look up, sketch forgotten.

“What is it?”

“I, uhm, I like guys. Not girls.” Will takes a deep breath with the words and sets his drawing down beside him. “Romantically, I mean.”

El hums, “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“You can, but,” he hesitates, contemplating the best way to word it. “People can be mean about it sometimes, so no one ever really talks about it.”

“Why?”

Will didn’t start the day expecting to explain the concept of homophobia to his sister, who looks genuinely confused. Thankfully, among all the surprises he could be given, this was the most manageable. He finds it sweet that it being different doesn’t even cross her mind.

“I don’t know, they just, hate people who are different I guess.” Logically, Will knows they are wrong, but for a second it’s like he can hear every slur and backhanded comment ever thrown at him at once. A montage of his worst thoughts. He tries to smile through it but he fears it comes off as self deprecating. “I grew up with a lot of people saying it was disgusting.”

“That’s dumb.” Her response comes immediately. Her brows furrow slightly, her mouth tugging down at the corner. “I’m sorry they told you that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. It comes out sadder than he’d hoped, “yeah it is dumb.”

“I hope you find a really nice boyfriend,” she smiles at him, moving over and cupping his face in one hand, holding one of his color stained hands with the other. “One that says how much he loves you and makes you feel special.” He can hear the implication behind her words, of someone who was for him what Mike couldn’t be for her. If only she knew how Mike does exactly that to him, just never in the way he wishes.

And that… that is just too much for Will’s heart. He doesn’t deserve her. Will had never imagined what it would be like to have a sister when he was little but now, he doesn’t think he could live without her. He shudders to think that one day he might. If she knew exactly who he desperately hoped said boyfriend could be, even knowing it is impossible.

“Can,” he falters, holding back a sob, “Can I hug you?”

She doesn’t say any words, but she settles halfway to him, sits on her knees, and opens her arms out. He crosses the distance, wrapping his arms around her middle and laying his head on her shoulder. She holds him back, one hand supporting his head.

“Thank you,” the words are choked out wet but El doesn’t seem to mind. She just holds him tight until their arms and legs go numb.

Will goes back home that night with El’s landscape in his hand. She’d gifted it to him after adding the outlines of two boys standing in the sunset, hands meeting in the middle.

♡ ♡ ♡

Will The Wise couldn’t be more thankful for the long night of the rest they were able to take before arriving at the village. Lucas hadn’t wanted to take it, arguing that they should leave before the bandits got too far, but Will and Dustin convinced him to stay. Looking back, it had been the right call. Will shudders to think of the state they’d be in now if they’d left at once.

The earth elementals are not particularly challenging foes, but they’re sturdy and able to take quite a good beating before going down. Will is burning through his spells quicker than he’d wish, feeling every missing drop of his magical energy as it depletes. They’ll have to rest again after this, if they’re able.

Three stone giants are down, turned into piles of rocks at their feet. That leaves three more. The remaining elementals are worn out, but still standing. They won’t attack until the party gets close but they’re also blocking the only way forward. Guard dogs protecting their owner’s backs. Will thinks if only they weren’t so far off the river they could’ve gone around the water the giants are unable to cross. That would’ve at least bought them time. It’s powerful magic, whoever summoned them definitely knew what they were doing.

Will breathes hard, leaning on his staff for balance. He must appear as worn out as he feels because, before he knows it, Gabe is stepping in front of him, setting himself up as Will’s personal human shield.

“How are you holding up?” Gabe asks, looking back just slightly. The sun gives him a halo of golden light, reflecting off his dark hair and plate armor. Painting his freckles like dark stars in Will’s vision.

“I’m okay,” he gets out, successfully keeping himself from panting. Mostly. “Almost out of spells though, I’ll need to rest in order to prepare some more once we’re done.”

“How many do you have left?”

“Two, I think,” he sees Gabe nod.

“Okay, stay behind me. They’re long range right? I’ll keep them from getting to you while you cast.”

“How did you,” Will starts, trailing off as he sees Gabe smile at him again. Will feels himself swallowing dry the butterflies he feels have begun to flutter around his stomach.

From his peripheral vision, he can see Lucas strike an arrow in just the right spot, bringing down yet another giant. The ranger then turns to help Dustin fight the fifth elemental.

As if on cue, the last one turns to look at them. Will knows they aren’t intelligent, at least not very, but he swears the creature is making eye contact with him.

“Actually, can you cover me for us to get close? I can try to cast it to sleep,” it’s a gamble, considering how mindless the elementals are, but it could work. That has to be good enough for now. “I’m not sure it’ll take but if it does it’ll be easier to finish it off that way.”

“I’d cover for you anywhere,” the words alone would make his heart stutter, but it doesn’t help that the message is delivered with a soft look that holds intensely onto Will’s eyes. A smile that Will doesn’t think he’s seen directed to Lucas or Dustin even once. Then it breaks and Gabe is looking forward with a stare made of steel. “Do you think you can get close enough to hit them both?”

“Maybe. I’d have to be within three feet.”

Gabe takes a deep breath and stands up straighter, “I will get you there.”

He does. The creature attempts an attack but Gabe blocks it easily, bringing his sword against the stone and using his whole body to shield Will as he scrapes to stand dead center between the two elementals. He takes a deep breath, giving all his remaining focus to the incantation. He whispers the words and knocks his staff to the ground. Both elementals fall to the floor unconscious.

“Guys? What just happened?” Dustin pants, stepping hard after losing his balance mid axe-swing.

“I put them to sleep,” Will places his hand across his mouth, nauseous from exhaustion. Gabe hones in to the motion and immediately places a hand across his back, for stability. “I’ll only last about a minute, and they’ll wake up as soon as you hit them but if you do it right and kill them in one go they’ll be down for good.”

Lucas nods and turns to Dustin, “cut his middle while I put an arrow in his neck that should do it.”

“Alright,” Gabe slowly lets go of Will, making sure he’s well balanced and standing steady before spinning his sword with a flourish. Will hates to admit it does… something to him. “Let’s get this over with.”

As Lucas and Dustin collectively turn their elemental to dust, Gabe walks to the next giant over. He slowly climbs over the creature, standing firmly on its chest. And then, he looks back at Will.

Sir Gabe Whepler looks at Will the Wise and smiles before turning his sword in a sweeping arc and driving it deep into the heart of the giant.

♡ ♡ ♡

Will thinks he may be going crazy.

I’d cover for you anywhere rings in his head in a loop, if playing over and over again. The looks Mike kept giving him burned into his eyelids. They stay with him like a shadow, stalking him over dinner when the looks are given to him once again in the flesh, haunting him as he lays down in bed and closes his eyes, the memories plaguing his thoughts as he attempts to force himself to sleep. They follow him into his dreams, where Mike himself plays the lead actor, recreating the fight in the campaign. In his dream though, Gabe-Mike runs over to him after slaying the beast, kneeling down, kissing his hand, and smiling up at him. Like a knight might in the princess movies he’s been watching with Holly. He doesn’t remember much of it when he wakes up but the warm feeling it gave him stays the whole morning.

It can’t mean anything, what Mike is doing while they play D&D, he knows that. He’s reading too much into it, willing himself to see things that aren’t really there. Mike has always looked at him in that way, that’s just friendship. Mike also occasionally flirts with Dustin and Lucas, when playing women NPCs. Maybe not as intensely, but it does happen. Maybe it would also progress if the women stuck around like Gabe did. It doesn’t mean anything. He can’t stop thinking about it.

He needs to talk to someone about it before he explodes. Jonathan would probably understand, he thinks. He already knows about his feelings for Mike for starters, and the less people privy to that one fact the better.

The bad news is Jonathan is at work, meaning they won’t be able to talk until after dinner. He can only hold out until then.

The good news is Mike has some sort of thing he has to do for his mom, which will take the whole afternoon, and so cannot also haunt Will in real life. He loves being around Mike, maybe more than he should, but today he is grateful for the certainty of not seeing him. At least while he can’t speak to Jonathan.

He could speak to the others, though. If he just suggested Mike was acting weird, then maybe they’d agree, if they had also noticed it. Maybe they’d say it was in his head. They don’t need to know about his feelings for that. It’s low stakes. It could work. He uses his walkie to invite Dustin and Lucas over, finding the basement will be the best spot for such talk. They arrive within ten minutes.

They all sit around their D&D table, talking about nothing in particular. As Dustin goes into a rant about some conversation he’s had with Steve and how he doesn’t understand why he still refuses to date Robin, Will feels his skin fizz with anticipation, he tries to not let his nerves get the best of him. Lucas clocks it immediately.

“Is everything okay?” He cuts Dustin mid sentence. Both pairs of their friends’ eyes turn to look at him.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Will answers, then takes his chance and pivots, “what are you guys thinking about the new campaign?”

Lucas gives him a look, staring at Will like he can see right through him. Or at least suspects something. Dustin simply shrugs.

“It’s pretty good, the last fight was harder than I thought it’d be.”

“I know,” Will nods, this is good, “who’d have guessed earth elementals would take so long to beat?”

Will thinks he’ll just build the conversation slowly, gearing up to a point where bringing up Gabe Whepler will feel natural and not at all suspicious. Turns out, he doesn’t have to worry. Lucas goes straight to the point.

“Sure it was a good fight but like,” Lucas slams both of his hands on the table, “we all agree Mike’s being weird right?”

Bingo.

Will hums, pretending not to have been fishing exactly for that. “How do you think?”

“I mean, Gabe.” Lucas says, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers on the table. He puts a lot of emphasis on the paladin’s name, “he’s not one to do things like this.” Lucas quickly looks towards Will, eyes a little wider than usual, “no offense, Will. This is strictly a Mike complaint.”

“None taken,” Will chuckles, he hadn’t taken the comment in a bad way, knowing Lucas well enough to not read into the implications of what things like this might’ve meant for literally anyone else. “I’ve also been kind of thinking that, but I thought maybe it was in my head.”

“No.” Lucas shakes his head, “definitely not in your head.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely being weird,” Dustin chimes in, leaning forward over the desk, “like we’ve done minor romance before but not like this, it doesn’t usually last this long.”

“Plus Gabe Whepler?” Lucas says the name as if it’s the most unbelievable thing he’s ever heard. Will doesn’t think he could argue its case, “seriously, that’s like only one letter off from his name!”

This particular comparison slaps Will in the face. His brain had traitorously make the connection between Gabe and Mike, both on the physical appearance and on the four letter nickname for the name of an archangel. And yet he had somehow completely disregarded his last name. Will tries once again to tell himself it means nothing, Mike is simply pretty bad at coming up with names. He doesn’t think he succeeds.

“I think it’s kind of sweet.” Dusting shrugs again, “It’s like a sick little mashup of Wheeler and Hopper,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, “wait. Do you think it’s something he came up with for him and El?” Lucas laughs.

“With the break up? I doubt it,” Mike had told them about the break up then, that’s good. Will wasn’t sure if it was going to come up in conversation and how he was supposed to act if it did. “It’s probably just because he’s the chief like Hopper.”

“I was thinking more of it being an old idea but you’re right,” Dustin nods, tapping his fingers into the tabletop, “he’d probably change it if it was since we started the campaign like, a week after they broke up.” It had actually been about three weeks after, but Will doesn’t correct him.

“So what if it’s similar to his name?” Will asks, more trying to convince himself than either of his friends, “none of us were ever good at names.” If they had been, maybe their characters wouldn’t be named after themselves with nothing but epithets to mark the difference.

“Yes, but we made those characters when we were ten!” Dustin gestures with his hands in the air, in choppy motions that punctuate not only his words but also his disbelief. “Mike makes new characters all the time, so what’s his excuse?”

Lucas hums, and then says the words that will stay with Will forever, yet another addition to the ghosts ever haunting his brain.

“Maybe he likes Will.”

Will, for one, chokes on thin air. “He doesn’t.”

Lucas throws his hands up, as if to ask Will not to shoot the messenger, “all I’m saying is he has never treated us the way he treats you.”

“Wait, no, I see it,” Dustin slams a hand onto the table in excitement, bringing the other one up in a finger gun to point at Will, a beaming smile on his face, “do you like him back?”

“Back?!” Maybe the universe is playing some sort of cruel joke on Will. Is he even awake right now? Has Vecna somehow come back without them noticing? “Guys, Mike’s not like me, he just can’t name characters.” They both give him a pointed look, clearly not believing a word. “I’m serious, every character is a reference to someone we know.”

“Are they now?” Dustin raises an eyebrow at him.

“Yes!” Will is perhaps a bit exasperated, “Stephen and Jay are clearly Steve and Robin, and James is Hopper,” at the blank look they give him, he clarifies, “his first name is Jim.”

This somehow only makes Lucas seem more unimpressed, “okay, but you do see how that’s more suspicious right?”

“What? That Mike can’t come up with names?”

“No,” Lucas shakes his head and clasps Will in the shoulder, “that the first name Mike thought to cannibalize when coming up with a boyfriend for you was his own”.

He thinks he’d feel better if Lucas had just point blank slapped him in the face. This could mean anything, it really could. And yet he can still feel the hope start to burn in his chest. His cheeks feel hot.

“I really don’t think it’s like that.”

Dustin leans down to catch his eyes, speaking as gently as Will thinks he can, “you know it would be okay if it was, right?”

“Sure, maybe,” Will nods, waving his hands around dismissively, “but it isn’t.” He tries to make his words convincing, but he can barely convince himself. “It isn’t, you both know he likes girls.” Lucas narrows his eyes at him.

“Dustin, are you hearing what I’m hearing?”

Dustin smiles widely, “I don’t know, Lucas, what are you hearing?”

“I’m hearing a lot of ‘Mike isn’t gay’s and no ‘guys I don’t like Mike like that’s”

Well, shit.

Will sighs and properly slumps over the table, resting his head in his arms. “I can’t even defend myself against that one, can I?”

“Nope,” Lucas says, popping the p. Will doesn’t have to look to hear the smile in his voice.

“To be fair,” Dustin starts, nudging his leg with a foot under the table, “I don’t think we’d believe you if you did.”

“True, I meant it when I said what you guys had was always,” Lucas stops, searching for the right word, “special. You were always a package deal.” Dustin snorts and mutters something that sounds like buy Will, get one Mike. Lucas’ next words are tinged with laughter. “It’s just how it goes.”

Will looks up at him as he feels Lucas lay a hand on his shoulder, his expression turned serious. “But also if he is a shit boyfriend to you like he was to El I will kick his twig ass. You know I could do it.”

He really could. Will has no doubt he would too. He smiles, forgetting to argue he won’t be his boyfriend at all. “Max would love that.”

Lucas matches Will’s smile, nodding, “and I’d do it in her honor.”

“Oh, so not even my honor?”

Dustin snorts, “what honor?”

“Hey, guys!” As if on cue, the basement door opens, revealing none other than Mike standing at the top of the stairs. The three of them stop in their tracks. Deers in headlights. Will doesn’t dare to breathe as Mike asks, “what are you all doing here?”

“Nothing,” he says, definitely too fast.

“Yeah, Mike, nothing.” Lucas echoes, overtly emphasizing the last word.

Dustin, the traitor, bursts out laughing. Neither of them say a word though, as Mike comes downstairs and they change the subject, asking him about his day. Even if they keep throwing Will glances when they think Mike isn’t looking, Dustin going as far as winking at him at some point. Will kind of thinks he wants to die and kind of thinks he has the best friends in the whole world.

Maybe two things can be true at once.

♡

He stays awake later than usual that night, anxiously waiting for Jonathan to come down. He had tried to lay in bed, but found himself to be too restless, deciding instead to pick up some paper and attempt to draw. Every sketch came out looking like Mike.

It’s past midnight when the basement door finally opens, Jonathan late by many hours. He’d probably been with Nancy. Will tries to ignore the longing that pains his heart at the thought.

“What are you still doing up?” Jonathan sits down on his makeshift bed, directly across from Will’s own. Will sets down what might be his tenth sketch of Mike that night, wearing what could be the beginning of some plate armor. He hadn’t realized he’d done that.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Is everything okay?” Jonathan asks, concern furrowing his brows, and isn’t that the million dollar question?

“Physically yes,” Will sighs, letting him know they weren’t under any imminent Upside Down related danger, “But no. Not really.”

“What’s up?”

“Mike’s flirting with me,” he says at once, the words almost blurring together into one, ripping the bandaid off. It’s so much more than that, really, but this is as good a start as any, “and I think it’s driving me crazy.”

“As in a joke?” Jonathan’s face furrows in concern, “he’s making fun of you?”

“No, it’s,” Will shakes his head, as if he could clear it like an Etch-A-Sketch. God, he sounds ridiculous, “it’s for D&D.”

“For D&D?”

“Yeah, he, uhm,” he doesn’t know how he can begin to put it, when he hardly understands Mike’s motivations himself, “he put in his head since I came out that I might like an NPC to flirt with. So. He made me one?”

Jonathan stares at him as if he’s just told him he has grown a second head, “an NPC?”

“Non player character,” Will clarifies. At least this he can do easily, “it just means it’s one Mike controls instead of the rest of us.”

“I know that,” his brother chuckles, smirking at him, “believe it or not, I do listen to you when you talk. I just thought those were mostly for plot exposition between the fights you all do.”

“Usually they are,” Will grants him. Most of Mike’s NPCs are fleeting, showing up for a scene or two and then forgotten. “Whenever Dustin and Lucas flirt with one it’s always just for information.” And yet he had gotten all the information they’d needed from Gabe before the flirting ever started. Before Mike called him beautiful with that soft look in his eyes that made him feel like he would’ve fallen to the ground, had he been standing. “But he made me one that stuck.”

“How so?”

“He came in the quest with us, so he’s always there, so Mike keeps flirting with me.” Will lists, tension building in his gut with each word. By the time he’s done, he has his head hung down, staring at his feet. His eyes sting with not yet formed tears. “He’s always there, and that’d be fine if it was just that, he’s not real, but—“

“But?”

Will looks up at Jonathan again, he doesn’t have to be able to look at himself to know his self doubt is reflected in his eyes. “Mike keeps staring at me?”

“Mike has always stared at you,” Jonathan says simply, as if it’s a given. The grass is green, the sky is blue, and Mike Wheeler spends his days staring at Will Byers. “I think it’s the main thing he does.”

“Ok, wow,” Will laughs wetly, bringing a hand over his mouth to stifle it. The worst part is, he knows it’s true. Has used that exact point as justification to himself countless times over the last couple of weeks. Mike has always stared at him, perhaps entirely too much. “But I think it’s more than usual? Or more intense at least.”

“Is this during the games?”

“That too, but he’s doing it all the time now.” He would know. He still sees Mike's dark eyes looking at him every time he closes his own. “It seems that every time I look at him, he’s already looking. And then he always stops.” His brother doesn’t seem convinced, and so he brings up the one thing he knows will convey how serious the situation truly is. “Even Dustin and Lucas think he’s acting weird!”

“You talked to them about this?” Jonathan asks, his mouth lifts up a little in the corner, the beginning of a smile.

“Earlier today,” Will answers, nodding. “They know about me now.”

“About your feelings for Mike?” His brother’s eyes widen, but the smile doesn’t leave his face, “I thought you didn’t want to tell them?”

“I didn’t, they figured it out.” He sees Jonathan freeze and makes sure to reassure him. “It’s okay though, they were cool about it.”

“I hope so,” Jonathan gets up and sits back down next to Will, putting a hand on his shoulder, “or they would have a very serious talk about it with me.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles, patting Jonathan’s hand with his own, shaking his head and looking down. He gestures with his other hand in the air, “but then Lucas put into their heads that Mike likes me back and I’ve been failing not to go insane about that.”

“They think Mike reciprocates?”

“Lucas thought Mike liked me first, and then Dustin asked if I like him back,” He laughs out loud, finally processing the absurdity of his friend’s question.

“Wow,” Jonathan chuckles. “Okay, why?”

“Uhm,” he falters, rubbing his neck with a hand and trying to remember what the others had said, “the character’s name, and also that Mike has always ‘treated me different,’ whatever that means.”

“The character’s name?”

“Sir Gabe Whepler.”

Will brings a hand to his mouth, hiding the smile that threatens to overtake his lips. It’s such a Mike name. Of course he’d name a character that, no matter what his intentions were. Jonathan stares blankly at him for several seconds.

“Okay. That,” Jonathan shakes his head in disbelief, “that is one letter off his name.”

“That was Lucas’s point,” Will smirks at his brother, momentarily amused. Then reality sets back in, and his smile drops in mere seconds. “And he keeps looking at me, and saying these things under Gabe’s name and I’m really trying not to read into it, but I can’t stop. And I just can’t do this.” Will can feel himself spiral. He breaks eye contact and moves to stare at his feet. His next sentence comes out a little choked, “I can’t set myself up for disappointment again.”

“Will, hey, look at me,” Jonathan uses a hand to gently guide his brother’s face up, perhaps pretending not to notice how Will’s eyes are threatening to spill over. “I don’t like seeing you hurt, and if you think you need a break from the game or whatever else you can always use me as an excuse, okay?”

Will nods, “Okay.”

“But, I also want you to be happy,” Jonathan uses a thumb to pick up a stray tear, as it rolls down from Will’s face, “and if your friends think there’s a chance, then maybe,” Will interrupts him before he can finish that thought. Mike can’t like him back, that’s not possible. He doesn’t want to let himself believe it could be real, not when it’ll only make it hurt more when he inevitably doesn’t.

“But Mike’s not,” he sobs with the words. Will presses his eyes closed, as he feels even more tears roll down. There’s a pit in his stomach, a void that’s been slowly building ever since he’s realized his feelings for his best friend. “He likes girls. He dated El for years.”

Jonathan brings Will close, hugging him tight, and letting him cry onto his shoulder. He moves a hand in circular patterns on Will’s back, trying his best to soothe him. Will isn’t sure how long they stay like that, him crying and his brother holding him. But eventually his sobs grow more sparse, lower in their intensity.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Jonathan strokes his hair, shushing lightly, “I know it hurts and it feels impossible, I just want you to be happy. Because they also broke up and I have on good authority that it was because, and I quote, Mike couldn’t love her right.”

Will inhales sharply, pulling away to look at his brother as he croaks, “what?”

“I talked to El, a couple of days before she broke things off.” He slowly moves a hand up and down Will’s arm, keeping him close as stray tears still flow from his eyes. “That was her main complaint. That even though Mike loved her, he couldn’t love her how she needed him to. I don’t know exactly how she meant it, but,” he trails off, moving his head from side to side to indicate Will should fill in the blank. Hope slithers up his throat like bile.

“That’s,” he doesn’t even have the words. El could’ve meant anything by that. It didn’t mean what he wanted it to. It couldn’t.

“Something right?” Jonathan moves a hand back to his brother’s face, smiling slightly and making Will meet his eyes. “Look, I don’t want to set you up for disappointment either, I’ll always be your shoulder to cry on if you ever need it again.” He waits until Will nods his understanding to continue, “I’m just saying you never know.” Jonathan smiles gently at his younger brother, eyes distant as if remembering something. “Mike has always been different with you, it could be that maybe he finally figured out why.”

Will feels his breath stop halfway to his lungs. “Do you really think—?”

“I don’t know.” Jonathan breathes out in a sigh, “I don’t know him as well as you do. But if you’re seeing something, I trust your judgment.”

Will isn’t so sure what his judgement even is. He feels it's been a long time since he was last able to truly understand Mike. “I don’t think I know him that well anymore.”

“I think you do.” Jonathan speaks gently, giving his brother an encouraging nod. “I just think whatever you’re seeing confuses you.”

Will doesn’t know how to answer, the implication behind this conversation swimming behind his eyes. He doesn’t dare hope, can’t dare to hope. Because if his brother is right, that means he might just not be doomed, which he knows isn’t the case. But. What if it is? What if Mike does like him back? What if the campaign is his way of testing the waters, to see how Will would react to the idea. Will smiles despite himself, maybe he should try to flirt a little harder next time. Just to see. He has the plausible deniability of matching Mike’s energy after all.

Maybe, just maybe, this could work out in his favor. He gives his brother a tentative smile.

Jonathan’s responding smile is cut through with a yawn, “think we can try to go to sleep? It’s pretty late and I need to be up early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure,” he breathes out, still trying to wrap around every possibility of what this could mean. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Jonathan's smile widens as he ruffles Will’s hair, making him give out a small wet chuckle. “I’m always here for you.”

As they lay down, mere feet apart, Will thinks he’s really glad he has a brother like Jonathan. He’s not sure what he would do without him. For maybe the first night in three weeks, Will doesn’t dream of D&D, of Mike or Gabe. He doesn’t have a nightmare either. He cannot recall having any dreams at all. It’s all he could ask for.

♡ ♡ ♡

Will The Wise stares at the night sky through half lidded eyes, the stars clearly visible against a pitch black abyss. He thinks he’d probably be able to spot a few constellations, had he ever bothered to learn them.

They’ve made camp in the first clearing Lucas deemed safe, just in time for nightfall. Gabe then claimed the first watch, happy to let the others turn in for the night, tucked beneath their own clothes around a small campfire. Will really should be asleep right now. He needs all the rest he can get, to renew not only his energy but also his magic. He’s already prepared his spells, so he reasons that at the very at least he has used his time productively. He’s sorted out incantations of a bigger variety than ever before, preparing himself for anything and everything. He’s usually not so anxious about jobs but, it’s different now that it is not just the party counting on him.

Sir Gabe Whepler sits barely a few feet away, his face and armor illuminated by the flames they’ve created for warmth. Will tries not to compare the sight to what he’d see in a painting, hung in the extravagant halls of the academy where he learned all he knows. He fails quite miserably.

Will then idly thinks that maybe he should pretend to be asleep until it sticks. He settles himself into his makeshift pillow, more commonly referred to as Gabe’s cape, which has been folded neatly and given to him wordlessly when they first settled down. It smells like the woods and something vaguely fruity. He tries not to think about that either.

“Can’t sleep?” Gabe asks, noticing his movements. The paladin props his head into his knees and hugs his legs into his chest. Will doesn’t suppose such a position would feel comfortable in so much armor, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. Perhaps he’s used to it.

“No,” he doesn’t move, half hoping sleep will return to claim him if he stays in roughly the same position for long enough. The fabric scraping across his cheek all but guarantees that will not happen.

Will turns his head to look at Gabe and immediately wishes he hadn’t. Because Gabe is looking back at him, his eyes are soft and his mouth curves into a gentle smile. He looks almost entirely unguarded, which can’t be good for the task of keeping watch and is certainly even worse for Will’s heart. In the quiet of the night, with only the sounds of the embers to keep them company, the familiar pounding feels like it’s been amplified ten times over. He can only pray Gabe can’t hear it.

“I just,” Will starts, not really knowing where the sentence will end, “can’t stop thinking, I guess.”

“Thinking about what?”

And there’s many ways he could answer that question. You. The way you look at me. The way you treat me different from the others. The way I’m not sure of anything I thought I knew when it comes to you. He can’t exactly say any of that, though. Instead he says, “everything. I think.”

“I get it,” Gabe is still smiling at him and Will forces himself to look away, break eye contact, and start scanning for stars again. He is fairly sure the heat he feels in his cheeks is not from the proximity to the fire.

“Do you know any constellations?” He blurts out, more of a distraction than a genuine question. He thinks, then, that he just needs something to take the attention away from him.

“I do,” but with this, he realizes he really fucked up because Gabe straightens and scoots his way over, laying himself down inches away from Will. They’re not touching, but he can still feel the body heat at his side as if they were. Up close, Will thinks the fruity scent he smells in the cape must be from whatever Gabe uses to wash his hair. Which he is not looking at. Definitely not.

“May I have your hand?” Will swears his heart stops. He does look at Gabe then, properly flustered in a way he hasn’t been in a long time.

“My hand?” He is surprised his voice doesn’t fail him.

“Yes, Will, your hand,” Gabe chuckles, bringing his left arm up to rest in the air in between them and swinging it around, “may I have it?”

Slowly, Will raises his hand, it feels almost weightless in the air, his fingers are shaking just slightly, his skin buzzing with anticipation. Gabe grasps it firmly in his own as soon as it is within reach. His palm is warm against Will’s.

“That one right there,” Gabe brings their joint arms up, pointing at a cluster of stars, “that is the ranger. Those stars right there,” he moves to indicate four stars arranged in a line with two more making a sort of cross, “are his bow as he prepares an arrow to strike.”

“This one,” Gabe points Will’s hand towards a vaguely rectangular shape in the sky, “is the owlbear. And the small one beside it,” he gestures at a similar shape, composed of fewer stars, “is the owlcub.”

Will can’t help the snort that comes out of him. “You just made that up.”

“I didn’t.” Gabe turns to him, eyes wide and eyebrows high. The beginning of a smile in the corner of his mouth. He drops their arms to rest in between them but doesn’t let go of Will’s hand.

“You so did,” it comes out in a laugh. This guy is ridiculous. Will cannot believe he actually likes him. “I mean, owlcub?”

“I did not!” Gabe all but squeaks, offended at the mere notion. But he’s smiling, which Will takes to mean he was definitely bullshitting his answers.

“Sure you didn’t.” Will smiles back, holding back another laugh. Through his half open eyes, he sees Gabe stop. He goes completely still, eyes locked onto Will’s. His expression is open and soft and Will is really trying not to read too deep into it. He’s not sure how long they stay like that, looking at each other, hands intertwined. Eventually though, the spell is broken. Will yawns.

“Go to sleep, Will The Wise,” Gabe says his name in a little lilt, teasing with no malice. Like it’s a song he enjoys singing. He untangles his hand from Will’s and proceeds to use it to ruffle his hair, which turns into a caress, which then turns into him simply resting his hand in Will’s head, waiting for him to respond.

“Yeah,” the wizard says as soon as he can find his voice, “yeah. Okay.” Gabe then removes his hand and starts to move away, back to his spot by the fire. Will, perhaps a little desperate, grabs his arm by the wrist. “Promise to wake me in a bit, so you can sleep too?”

“Sure,” that earns him a grin, one of the big, genuine ones that make his stomach swish, “I’ll wake you in a bit.”

“Good.” Will nods to himself, letting go of the paladin’s arm and laying himself back down onto his makeshift pillow. ”Goodnight.”

The reply comes a few minutes after, soft and quiet, as if it wasn’t meant to be heard at all.

“Sweet dreams, Will.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Max wakes up that Wednesday.

It starts like any other Wednesday, all five of them meeting in the Wheeler’s basement to watch a movie. It had been Dustin’s turn to pick. He had walked up and down Family Video’s sci-fi shelves for what must’ve been at least twenty minutes, considering titles and then placing them back down, as the others commented on his decisions. Will wanted something fun, Lucas something exciting, Mike something familiar. To the boys’ collective horror, El had then slipped that she’d never seen a Star Wars movie.

They decided on A New Hope.

They sit around the TV in their usual positions, Dustin and Lucas on the ground and Will sharing the couch with Mike and El. Unlike every previous movie night, Mike sits close to Will. Really Close. Or maybe that was entirely too similar to the other nights, except taken a step further. He and Mike had spent the last couple of months sharing a blanket, each sitting on one cushion of the couch and propping a bowl of popcorn between them. This time, Mike has the popcorn bowl in his lap, having essentially taken its place. He sits shoulder to shoulder with Will, their thighs lightly touching. Their arms brushing as either of them move. It’s not too much, nothing that can’t be explained as him wanting to give El space, but it makes Will’s heart pound his ears. He can barely watch the movie, too focused on the pinpricks of electricity at each point where he and Mike touch.

Will doesn’t know how to interpret this. It’s nothing then haven’t done before but it’s also something they haven’t done in years. Hidden under the blankets in what could be either carefully curated or simple habit. His whole body feels warm, butterflies threatening to flip his stomach upside down and come flying off his mouth at the first opportunity.

Mike, in contrast, looks perfectly engrossed in the movie, he barely blinks as he pays close attention to Luke Skywalker moving through the screen, eating a handful of popcorn every once in a while. Will sits there watching him, he has cut his hair shorter, looking so much like the Mike he’d first fallen in love with all those years ago. Will wants to reach out and run a hand through it. He wants to take his hand under the covers and squeeze it tight. He also knows he really shouldn’t.

Will the Wise and Gabe Whepler’s nighttime conversation by the fire plays itself in repeat on his brain. Will had set out that day to flirt with Gabe, in order to judge how his best friend would react. However, all logic went out the window the second the paladin had asked for his character’s hand. He doesn’t know how Mike does it, just says things like that without meaning them. Unless he does mean them, but that makes it even more impossible to Will’s eyes, he cannot flirt with Mike as if it were nothing. But maybe he’s too invested, maybe that’s why Mike can do it but not him. He’s sitting there, watching Mike watch the movie and debating on if he should maybe risk it all and twist their hands together, when Mike turns to look at Will. There’s a strange look in his eyes, in the way he smiles at him, gaze focused low in Will’s face. He swears he sees Mike lean almost imperceptibly closer. The phone rings.

Mike jumps away from Will, forcing his head forward and settling himself deeper in the couch. Their shoulders no longer touch. The phone sounds out twice before it stops. It takes five seconds for Karen to yell at them from the kitchen, “Mike! Phone for Lucas!”

Time stops, the five of them freezing in shock. Then the spell breaks and Lucas sprints to the phone while Dustin jumps to pause the movie, cursing under his breath. Will can’t make out any words, but the person on the phone sounds vaguely professional, with the cadence of someone used to speaking with the public. Lucas takes a sharp breath at the news, his eyes wide and mouth handing open. Then he turns to them and smiles through a sob.

♡

They make it to the hospital in under ten minutes.

They’re not all allowed in, not at first, only two visitors able to be in a room at a time. They all agree on letting Lucas go in by himself first, giving him a first moment alone with his girlfriend. Lucas thanks them, hugging them tightly at once and basically sprints toward her room.

Will, Mike, El, and Dustin make themselves comfortable in the waiting room. Or as comfortable as one can be in the low quality metal chairs with cushions that might as well not exist. Dustin paces around the room while Will and El sit down, one in front of the other. Mike goes straight for the vending machine.

They don’t speak, the buzzing of the lights, Dustin’s footsteps, and the whirr of the vending machine are the only sounds in the waiting room. El smiles at him but can’t seem to sit still, changing positions every five seconds. Will can’t stop vibrating his leg up and down in his chair.

When Mike returns, he wordlessly extends a can of Coke in Will’s direction, waving it in the air to indicate he should take it. Their fingers brush when he does, sending a shock of electricity up Will’s arm.

Mike sits in the chair directly beside Will’s own, their legs touch from knee to ankle, their shoulders just barely brushing. Mike tilts his can so that Will can clink the two of them together in a cheer before opening it and taking a large swing. Will has to remind himself not to stare at the works of his throat as Mike tilts his head back, swallowing the drink. He feels his cheeks heat up as he opens and sips at his own Coke. They sit in silence.

After what could’ve been either ten minutes or ten hours, Lucas returns to them. His eyes are red and puffy from crying but he wears the biggest smile Will has seen on him since coming back. El gets up the second she sees Lucas come in, both of them nodding and smiling at each other. She motions for Will to follow her, the two of them having agreed to go in together next. Mike shoots him a smile while he leaves. He smiles back, the flutter of butterflies coming up his throat.

Max’s room is only a handful of hallways away, simple with a single bed in the center and sheer curtains pulled over the window in the wall opposite to the door. The real sight is the girl sitting in the bed, her arm linked to an IV drip. She wears a white and light blue hospital gown and her hair is longer than she used to wear, her arms and face skinnier too, but she sits up and turns to face the door. The sight of Max Mayfield shifting on the bed, turning to look at the door with glazed over eyes that don’t seem to focus quite right might be the best thing Will has seen the whole year.

“El?” Max asks, her voice raspier than it used to be, “is that you?”

El approaches her bedside with careful steps, sounding on the verge of tears despite the huge smile on her face, “it’s me, Hi.”

“Hi.” Max chuckles, a little wetly, “I still can’t see, the doctors said they might get better with time but you’re just a blob of brown hair and gray shirt right now,” she sounds tired and a little choked up, her eyes scan around the room, clearing trying to make sense of the little she can still see. Will notices the second she spots him, her mouth quirking up in a corner. “Is that Will?”

“Hi, Max,” he takes his cue to walk further into the room, stoping a few steps behind El, “how are you feeling?”

“Pretty shit, but at least I’m still here.” She smiles, readjusting herself on the bed. “They told me I’ve been out for months, I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for all of you, especially Lucas.” She breathes his name out, shaking her head, her smile growing fonder, “he tried to hide it but I think he was crying the whole time he was here.”

“He took it pretty rough, we all did.” Will says, over exaggerating his nod to make sure she can spot it. “We missed you a lot.”

“We used to come and talk to you,” El speaks softly, swaying in her spot, clearing wanting to step closer but not daring to do something that could disturb Max. “Could you hear any of it?”

“No,” she shakes her head and smiles, though Will can see it is tinged with sorrow, “I wish I had.”

“So,” Max snaps herself out of it and takes a deep breath, slowly letting her self fall back into the pillow that props her upright, “fill me in, what did I miss?”

“I dumped Mike’s ass,” El says with a sharp smile, managing to pass a small giggle through the tension in her voice, “for good.”

“No way, seriously?” Max gasps, grinning. “I always thought you deserved better.” She says simply, happily moving her feet from side to side, before glancing in his general direction. “No offense, Will.”

Those three words throw him off on a loop, a pit growing in his stomach at the thought that she might know. Because what does she mean by that? Is it because they’re best friends and so the implication that Mike isn’t that great could be offensive? That makes sense. It’s probably that. Before he can say anything, El answers with a giggling “I know,” and the two girls move on.

“What about you, Byers?” Max teases, smirking at him, “any life changing news I should know about?”

“Yeah actually, I,” he takes the opportunity she’s given him on a silver platter, faltering a little on how exactly to word it. In the end, it sounds a little like a question when he says, “I came out to everyone?”

“Oh,” she looks taken aback for a second, sitting up straighter, but then she gives him a big smile, “good for you.”

Will finds himself smiling back, “yeah?”

“Of course,” she raises an eyebrow in his direction. She misses his eyes and stares over his shoulder instead but it’s the thought that counts. That and the smile. Will doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to having people smile at that fact about him. “You do remember I’m from California, right? You’re not the first gay person I’ve met.”

Will snorts, her experience of California was surely very different from his. Maybe he had just been out of luck with Lenora. El looks confused, a little furrow to her brows, “how did you know—?”

“Coming out is what people call it when you tell other people you’re gay,” Max clarifies, not needing to see her face to know exactly where her friend’s confusion was coming from. Will is so glad to have her back, she really is his sister’s best friend, the two of them having a type of understanding no one else does. Maybe it’s a girl thing, he isn’t sure, but he hopes the smile on El’s face never vanishes again.

El hums, looking over at Will, “I didn’t realize that had a name.”

He smiles back at his sister and nods. “It does.”

“I’m happy for you Will, seriously,” Max smiles before making a big show of sighing, “though that does recontextualize a hell of a lot.”

This surprises him. He knows he was never the most subtle, years of bullying being more than enough to confirm that, so he doesn’t see what would even be there to reconsider that wasn’t already obvious. “It does?”

“It does,” she answers slowly, the way one would do to a child, shaking her head and bringing her non-IV’ed hand to point in his direction. “Exhibit A, you and Wheeler.”

“What about Will and Mike?” El looks between the two of them, her eyes narrowed. Max freezes at her tone.

“Oh fuck, you haven’t told her,” she looks at Will, worry filling her expression, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says softly. It isn’t, not really, but it’s out there now and he had been meaning to tell El. He’ll just have to do a slight course correction of when said telling would take place. “If I say something, promise to not be mad at me?”

“I could never be mad at you.” She turns to face him proper. Her brow is still a little furred, eyes scanning his face for meaning, but her voice is soft. Assertive in a gentle way. He isn’t so sure about her words but the sentiment is appreciated.

Will closes his eyes, and takes a steadying breath. He can do this. Once and it’s done. Like ripping a bandaid out.

“I’ve kind of been in love with Mike since we were twelve?” He doesn’t mean to phrase it like a question, but it’s fitting all the same. Because really, twelve is the earliest he can pinpoint the feeling he has since come to recognize, but sometimes Will thinks it’s been going on for much longer. Sometimes, he thinks he has always loved Mike, it had never started because it had always been there, perhaps since the day they first met in the swings.

“Oh.” El breathes, smiling at him, “I know.”

Will can’t believe his ears, he does a double take, looking at Max who seems just as baffled as he is, “you know?”

She nods, “I think I’ve known since I saw the painting.”

And damn it Will should have never given Mike that godforsaken piece. It’s his pride and joy, perhaps the best thing he’s ever made as he had been unwilling to accept anything less than perfection for Mike. Fuck, he has it bad.

The painting is Mike’s. It has been Mike’s since the moment Will first touched a brush to the canvas. But it also haunts his thoughts at all times of the day, waiting for the second shoe to drop and give Mike the realization it’s something more than a totem of friendship.

Max looks between them, hoping to be filled in, “what painting?”

“He was making it in Lenora, acting weird.” El explains, her lips raised in a small grin, she shakes her head and then brings her eyes up to make contact with Will’s. “I thought it was for a girl.” She smiles as if to say sorry, then looks back at Max shrugging. “Then I saw it in Mike’s room after we got back. But I didn’t know Will liked boys, so it took a while for it to click.”

Will thinks back at how the painting hangs framed in Mike’s room, smiling despite himself. “I still can’t believe he put it up.”

“I can,” El says, smiling softly at him, “it’s a really good painting.”

It’s then that Will realizes the conversation he’s really having, telling his sister he’s in love with her ex-boyfriend. That he’s been in love with him for years. “I’m sorry,” He presses his eyes closed to see if he can stop them from stinging, “I tried to push it down. To be supportive for you both, I gave him so much advice to keep you both happy, but,” El cuts him mid sentence.

“Don’t be sorry,” she reaches out to hold both of his hands, squeezing them tight. “I love him, but not in a boyfriend way. Not anymore.” His sister smiles at him so genuinely it makes his chest hurt. “I’m okay with it, if you want to date him.”

“He doesn’t want to date me,” Will laughs, shaking his head. It comes off way more self deprecating than expected.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your sweet moment,” Max cuts in, interrupting, “but that’s a whole lot of bullshit.”

“He likes girls,” he defends for what must be the tenth time this past month. When did all of his friends decide to collectively ignore this fact? Max snorts and raises an eyebrow at Will.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Well,” Will sputters. Mike didn’t need to tell him that for it to be true. For it to be obvious, “no, but—”

“Exactly,” Max interrupts him again, her tone indicating she won’t actually accept any of his counter arguments. He has many prepared. Thankfully, El distracts him.

“I think you guys would work,” El squeezes his hand again, focusing his attention back on her. Her smile is genuine and she has a glint on her eyes he doesn’t think he has seen before. “Mike’s always thought you were special.”

He takes a sharp breath, his lungs forgetting to function as the air is halfway in. Her words from so many weeks ago echo in his head. I hope you find a nice boyfriend. Someone that makes you feel special. Will remembers dwelling on the implication of what Mike couldn’t be for her. Of what he wished Mike could be for him. And here she is now, giving him that option as if it were real. He thinks he could cry. He just might do it. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do.”

Will sniffles, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, a little embarrassed, “anyway. We’re here to talk about Max, not me.” He turns to her again, smiling. “I’m really glad you woke up.”

She grins back, “me too.”

“Once you get out, we’ll need to have a sleepover again,” El says, finally reaching over and taking her friend’s hand, having decided it’s worth the risk. She runs a thumb over the back of Max’s palm. “It’s been too long.”

“God, yes,” Max exclaims, dropping her shoulders and throwing her head back slightly, her voice cracks a little once she raises its volume. She looks at Will then, tilting her head as she considers something. “You should join us too, Will.”

For a second, he wonders if he even heard that right. He knows she can’t see the look on his face, but she doesn’t need to when his silence is answer enough.

“I’m serious,” she coaxes, trying to bend her feet far enough to hit him where he stands. She attempts it twice but gives up when it becomes clear she won’t quite manage it. “It would be fun, we just read comics and talk about boys and I know you don’t get to do that with the others.”

That sounds kind of nice, actually. Will smiles to himself, feeling mostly honored to be considered worthy of an invite. Still, he fears he wouldn’t be able to contribute much to their conversations.

“There’s no boys to talk about,” he shakes his head, lying through his teeth.

“Now I know you’re shitting me,” she laughs at him, bright and louder than he thought she was caplable of. “There’s no way Wheeler doesn’t drive you insane sometimes.”

“He doesn’t,” Will says with a chuckle. Fully ignoring the multiple spirals Mike has sent him down this last month alone. “He’s my best friend.”

El squints at him. “Friends don’t lie, Will.”

Damn his sister for knowing him too well.

“Okay,” he sighs with his full body, not missing how both of the girls beam at him, “maybe he keeps giving me mixed signals but like,” he holds his neck with a hand, voice growing uncertain, “I’m sure it’s nothing?”

Max snaps to attention immediately. “Mixed how?”

“He might be flirting with me through D&D?”

Max stares at him, or rather the vague direction of him. At whatever she sees of the blob of brown and yellow that he is. Disbelief is written over all of her features. “What?!”

“It’s a long story,” he says, even though it really isn’t. Mike made an NPC for him to flirt with to be supportive after he came out. Said flirting is bleeding into real life just a little and driving him crazy. Tale as old as time. “But, as I said, it’s probably nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Max smirks at him and maybe telling her that was a mistake. She pats her hands in her lap. “Come on, sleepover as soon as I’m out of here, then you tell us the whole thing.”

“I’ll think about it,” Will says, fully knowing he’ll be attending not only the first but every single sleepover he’s allowed to go to after. They don’t need to know they’ve already won him over though, not quite yet.

By the way El smiles at him, he’s sure she already knows.

♡ ♡ ♡

It takes them an extra week to reach the bottom of the mountain, on its side is a large cavernous entrance, visible even from a distance. They travel day and night, stopping to camp only when absolutely necessary, slaying whichever minor foes they find in their way with ease. As they sit around the fire the night before going in, they discuss what awaits them.

“Well,” Gabe says, looking up at the mountain through the smoke from their campfire, “they say there’s…”

“I mean, we all know it’s a dragon right?” Dustin interrupts. All three remaining party members turn to look back at him. Will hates to admit he’d been thinking the same thing. In the end, it’s Lucas who breaks the silence, speaking slowly as if the suggestion is absurd.

“A dragon?”

“Yeah, I mean, big cavern. Weird mountain. Stealing precious gems,” he counts each clue in his hand, raising a finger up and tapping each new finger with his opposite index, “dragon. It makes sense.”

“What about the bandits?” Lucas asks, his eyes scanning side to side, looking over all of his friends. Dustin shrugs.

“Maybe it hired them. Maybe it ate them. Maybe it hired and then ate them. Dragons are smart, man, I don’t know.” He looks at Gabe then, a little worried, “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“No,” Gabe says, shaking his head, looking perhaps a little sad he wasn’t the one revealing this piece of information, “you’re not. They do say a dragon lives in that cave. We can only hope it’s one that can be reasoned with.”

Will swallows, his throat feeling dry and nods. “We should sleep. We need all the rest we can get.”

The others agree. And that is that.

They make their way to the cave the next morning. It’s dark but they can see the glint of gold reflected on the walls from wherever the hallway bends to. Will casts dancing lights so the cavern is illuminated by makeshift lanterns. It still goes deeper than they can see. Dustin is about to go in when Will holds him back.

“Wait, let’s think about this,” the cave is creeping him out, there’s a bad feeling in his chest that is starting to feel suffocating. Will doesn’t think outright combat would go well for them. “The longer we can delay combat the more beneficial. It’s still pretty early so the dragon might be asleep. I’ve prepared invisibility, if we do this right one of us can go in and take the crown unnoticed, the dragon might not even realize it’s missing.”

The rest of the party shares a look, Will can tell they agree. It could work. Fighting a dragon is risky on the best of days, trying wouldn’t hurt.

“I’ll do it,” Lucas steps up, nodding at Will, “I have the best dexterity between all of us.”

Will smiles at his friend and starts to work the spell, this might just work out.

It started out well, it really did. Once invisible, Lucas set out into the cave, the others trailing behind. They pass by an area where three men sleep, likely the bandits that raided the village. Will and Dustin do their best to sidestep around them, lest they wake them up. Gabe fully stops.

“What are you doing?” Will whisper-shouts at him, sticking behind while Dustin and Lucas continue ahead.

“Tying them up,” Gabe whispers back, “that way, they can’t go after us if they wake up again.”

“Please, be careful.”

Gabe smiles at him, raising the rope he found in the men’s belongings, “I will.”

By the time Will catches up with Dustin, they have reached the room. The two of them hide behind a rock close to the entrance, watching as Lucas’ footsteps are pressed into the mountains of gold.

Will had been right about the dragon being asleep, which is lucky considering this is a huge red dragon, whose kind famously gets little sleep. Its breath creates small ripples in the gold, out of sheer force. He scans around but doesn’t spot the crown, not sure where to begin to look in the dragon’s vast collection of treasure. Dustin taps his arm and points in a direction which Will supposes must be the correct one, but he still fails to spot it. Based on the footprints though, Lucas must see it, which is all that matters.

Will doesn’t see the moment the crown is picked up, as that is when Gabe decides to arrive. Will distracts himself by looking back at him, raising an eyebrow as if to ask well, are they tied up? Gabe smiles in response, which Will takes to mean yes.

The next time he looks over, he can see the floating crown, slowly making its way over. It’s absolutely beautiful, made of small precious stone seashells in every color of the rainbow. Will thinks it looks vaguely bridal. His heart swells. They’ve done it. Only a few more feet and they will be able to go on their way without worrying about a fight. Of course, that is the thought that curses them, as Lucas loses his balance. He gets back up, crown still in hands, but the treasure makes deafening noises, as in the process he knocks down a few bigger pieces to the very bottom of the cave.

This is when the dragon wakes up and it all goes to hell.

Gabe reacts fast enough to have Lucas throw him the crown, which he stashes behind their rock for safety. From then on, it’s pure chaos.

Lucas shoots at the dragon with his bow, trying to create distance. The dragon swings a claw out, aiming at the vague direction of the arrow. It doesn’t exactly hit, but it scrapes Lucas just enough that the invisibility spell is undone. Will casts a missile at the dragon, but misses wildly as it moves. Dustin jumps down into the gold, trying to close the distance between them, which might be equally brave and stupid.

Gabe does the same, his sword glowing with a ghostly blue light Will is not sure he isn’t imagining. Lucas takes another shot at the dragon, who fights back, narrowly missing him as he rolls away through the gold. Will, too, gets down into the golden piles, this time successfully hitting his target. Dustin swings his axe deep into one of the creature’s legs.

The fight continues on, for what feels like hours but must only be minutes, their attacks successful more often than not, but the dragon does not seem to be relenting. The party is holding up, though, evading most of the attacks thrown at them. This specific dragon does not seem to be able to use magic, which works out well for them. It’s lucky, really. It also doesn’t seem to speak much more than a select few words, all of which are curses, but Will doesn’t think he can judge, he wouldn’t be much more eloquent were he in the dragon’s position.

He fights alongside his friends until his magic starts to wear out again and he feels himself becoming sloppier. His head dizzy from exhaustion. He lets his guard down just enough for the dragon to get a good look at him, stare him in the eye, and strike him right across the chest with a claw, sending him back until he hits the cavern’s wall.

He hears Gabe shout… something. He’s not sure what. He feels numb. When he looks down, he can see his chest is bleeding. A deep slash cuts him diagonally, perfectly claw shaped. He falls when he tries to sit up again. And so he lets himself lay down. He’s losing a lot of blood, he thinks. Will laughs to himself. Taken down by a dragon is not a bad way to go, if he could choose any. Maybe Dustin will write an epic about him when he’s gone.

From this angle he can see Gabe. He wears a sickening expression on his face, equally broken and angry. Devastation and wrath. He turns to the dragon, a new fire in his eyes, new assuredness in his movements. Will can see how he moves faster, more violently. Delivering attack after attack after attack. His sword is mostly definitely glowing now. His shield slashed through the heart in the center by one of the dragon’s claws.

Will can’t see Lucas and Dustin anymore, they might still be attacking, they might not. All he can focus on is Gabe. Gabe who is fighting harder than Will would’ve thought to be humanly possible. Gabe who gets close enough to stick his sword through the perfect opening in the beast’s scales, sending it toppling down the treasure piles, staining the gold red in its wake.

Next thing he knows, Gabe has run over, only slightly sprayed in blood. Will’s vision is a little foggy but he thinks Gabe’s eyes are wet with tears. His hands are shaking when he cups Will’s face.

“Will!” He tries to look him in the eye, and only mostly succeeds, “Will, stay with me. Please stay with me.”

In the background he thinks he can hear more footsteps. A voice that sounds vaguely like Dustin’s yelling something about a lot of blood. He isn’t sure, it kind of sounds like it’s coming from underwater.

“Will, you’re not dying on me right now, okay?” Gabe somehow sounds simultaneously so authoritative but also soft. It’s both perplexing and perfectly fitting of him. “Not if I can stop it. I can make it better okay? I will make it better.” One of his hands moves from Will’s face to his chest, “You just have to stay with me, okay? You’re not allowed to die right now.”

Will tries to say okay back but it only sounds like an incoherent mumble. Gabe chuckles wetly at that, nodding furiously, so Will supposes he got the message.

“Devotion is no good if I lose my person, so you have to stay with me,” Gabe brings his forehead down to touch Will’s, his tears spilling over into the wizard’s cheeks. Will doesn’t mind though. Not at all. “You have to. I still need the time to sit down and properly tell everything I feel. You do not get to leave before that.”

Will just barely manages to bring one of his hands up to his face and over Gabe’s own. Gabe smiles at him, a small sob of gratitude leaving his lips.

If Will had looked down just then, he would’ve seen the way his chest is slowly put back together through magic. He would’ve seen the cave be lit in the pale blue glow of the Gabe’s lay of hands that cannot put him back together, not fully, but can heal him just enough. Enough for it to matter, for him to be stable.

Will doesn’t look, though. He’s too busy looking deeply into the dark eyes that stare at him, blue light being reflected in the irises like an aurora that cuts through the night sky. It’s the most beautiful sight he’s even seen.

♡ ♡ ♡

The ceiling light of the Wheeler’s basement burns through Will’s eyelids.

He lays on his back, trying to force himself to sleep with no success. He doesn’t know what time it is, except for that it’s late. Jonathan left hours ago and Will doesn’t expect him to come back until the next morning, when he’ll attempt to leave Nancy’s bedroom unseen. Will has been rolling in his bed for way too long as sleep refuses to take him, he just can’t seem to stop thinking.

The entirety of tonight’s D&D session is burned into his retinas. He can see it when he closes his eyes, the knowing glances Dustin and Lucas shot at him mingling with Mike’s soft stares. Because Mike had been staring at him again, in a way that most definitely was not usual. Mike’s eyes had followed him all afternoon, tracking his every movement, studying every reaction he’d had to the campaign. It hadn’t stopped at D&D either, Mike’s eyes followed him through dinner to the moment they separated, Will descending the stairs to the basement. He hadn’t even seen Mike go up, he’d stayed there just looking at Will and smiling until the door was closed. Will had slumped on the stairs then, burying his head in his arms and waiting until his heart calmed down before descending fully.

It isn’t just that Mike was looking at him, it is also that he wouldn’t look away. Until a few days ago, he would break eye contact whenever Will caught him. Now he just smiles, big and genuine, his eyes not once wavering. It’s like he decided to stop caring about not being caught, like looking at Will is more important than whatever consequences could come of that. Will doesn’t let himself dwell on it, lest he burns himself with a badly aimed fireball of hope.

Will turns to his other side, pressing his eyes closed and balling his fists, in an effort to make them stop trembling. On nights like this, he usually sits himself down with a sheet of paper and whatever supplies are closest, bleeding his feelings out into art. He can’t do that now, not tonight, not when he knows exactly what he’ll draw. He’d draw the only thing he can visualize: Mike, dressed in plate armor and carrying a heater shield with a heart emblem on the center. He hugs his hands to his body as he rolls again, he can’t do it, it would feel too much like an admission.

He presses his face to his pillow as the thoughts stay flooding in, Mike’s soft voice reciting Gabe’s grand speech back at him. Will can still see it now, the way Mike looked at him with a soft smile, slightly flushed from the rapt attention on him. He had looked at Will with what looked like real concern in his eyes, mimicking Gabe’s crying. Mike had never been a good actor so Will doesn’t know how he’d done that, what emotion he’d been tapping into to be able to so convincingly act the story out. His chest hurt at the thought of it, of his best friend having felt something similar. Because if he had, then Will was pretty sure it had been during November of 1983, when the world as they both knew it had changed forever. He hates to think he’d make Mike hurt like that, even if it hadn’t been his fault. The thought of baby Mike laying in bed late at night and whispering similar things about the fake body of his best friend the day of his burial makes his eyes sting and his throat burn.

He needs some water. He needs to get out of here.

Will throws his feet out to the ground, that’s something he could do, walk up the kitchen and grab a cool glass of water. He takes a grounding breath and nods to himself, water sounds good, the change of scenery could help him relax. Maybe it would get him to stop feeling so warm in that basement. His heart pounds in his ears as he goes up the stairs, anxiety building in his gut over something unseen.

He swings the door open and finds Mike Wheeler standing on the other side, a stack of papers pressed against his chest with one hand, the other raised and ready to knock.

They freeze, staring at each other for what feels like hours. Mike’s eyes are wide, his lips parted, his right hand raised in the hair. He hadn’t expected to be caught. Mike slowly lowers his hand, maintaining eye contact. The air between them heavy with something Will can’t name.

“Hi,” Mike breaks first, smiling at Will, his voice comes out breathy, as if he weren’t breathing right. “Can we talk?”

Will’s mouth goes even drier, he wets his lips to compensate and swears he sees Mike track the movement. He must really be going crazy. He sounds just as breathy as Mike when he replies, moving to let the other in. “Sure.”

Will guides them down the stairs, leading the way while Mike stays just a step behind. Will walks all the way over to his bed and sits down. Mike settles his papers on the ground before sitting on the bed next to him. Will can spot Mike’s scrawled handwriting all over the pages. Mike sits down barely an inch away from Will but holds himself just far enough that their legs and shoulders don’t brush. Will mourns the nonexistent contact.

Mike stays quiet for a couple of seconds, breathing hard and gazing at every direction he can find. Mostly he looks up, and a little at Will, from the corner of his eye. Will waits, feeling nauseous from the anticipation, for his friend to be ready to speak.

“I want to ask you something,” Mike says, after roughly thirty seconds, turning to look at Will. Their knees touch then, only slightly, “but if I do, you promise not to freak out?”

This ask, in and of itself, already makes Will feel like he swallowed a piece of glass, which cuts his throat and all internal organs as it goes down. His heartbeat is so loud it seems to fill the whole room. He doesn’t know how Mike doesn’t notice it.

“That’s promising,” he says, attempting a chuckle but only succeeding on releasing a small amount of air. His own version of a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, “but sure. I trust you.”

That he does, with his whole being.

“Thank you,” Mike smiles at him, his voice gentle in a way Will doesn’t think he’d ever heard him use with anyone else, in any other circumstance. Mike takes another deep breath and darts the tip of his tongue out to wet his lips. Will finds himself focusing on the movement. Mike looks at him, for a second, before looking away again, eyes trained on the ceiling. In the low light of the basement, he almost seems to be blushing.

“So, the painting, the one that’s up in my room,” he begins, with the tentative voice one uses when trying not to scare away a small animal. “You made it by yourself, right? El didn’t actually commission it?”

Will feels his heart stop. This can’t be happening. Not now, not like this. He’d been foolish enough to believe he had gotten away with it, that even if they had broken up, at least Mike would never find out. How had he been so naive?

“I’m so sorry,” he shuts his eyes tightly, knowing that he’d soon start crying if he opened them again. He had ruined everything, messed up his most important friendship with his feelings. “I didn’t mean to lie, I just,” his voice fails, fading into nothingness as he forces himself to stare at the void behind his eyelids.

“Hey Will, it’s okay,” Mike says, so gently that were he speaking to anyone else it would feel out of place, “look at me, it’s okay.” Mike uses a hand to guide Will into facing him, not dissimilar to how Jonathan had treated him weeks ago. Mike strokes his cheek with a thumb and Will thinks he might have entirely stopped breathing minutes ago. “I’m not mad or upset or anything like that,” Mike shakes his head just slightly, sending Will an encouraging smile, “can I just ask why you said it was from El?”

Will doesn’t know how to answer that question, not when there’s so much to say. He could talk about his feelings and the impossibility of them, or about how he’d be willing to do anything to guarantee Mike’s happiness, even if it cost his own. Maybe even of El and how, at the time, she did need Mike and he wasn’t about to let the two of them break down in front of his eyes. In the end he goes with, “it’s what you needed to hear.”

“The two of you were having issues and, I don’t know, I guess I wanted to help you fix it,” Will shakes his head, it’s a slight movement but it makes Mike remove his hand. Will hadn’t meant to do that. For a split second he considers asking Mike to hold him again, before realizing how that wouldn’t turn out well. He sighs, “I thought it would mean more coming from her, or something.”

A furrow appears in Mike’s brow, his dark eyes scan Will’s face, though he can’t tell what he is looking for. “It means just as much knowing it’s from you.”

“Yeah?” Will isn’t sure he’s even breathing at this point. Doesn’t Mike realize what he’s doing to his heart? Can’t he hear the pounding as it echoes off the walls?

“Yeah, it was actually really confusing at first,” Mike chuckles, turning to sit facing forward. Will immediately misses the eye contact. “The first time she saw it in my room I was so ready to thank her, but then she asked what it was. She asked if that was the painting you had been working on.” Mike looks back at him, only for a second, “when I said it was she said she thought the painting was for a girl you liked. Thinking back I’m pretty sure she mentioned it in a letter once.”

The first time she’d been in his room, that must’ve been months back, when they were still dating. Will tries to imagine it, Mike learning his girlfriend hadn’t commissioned this gift given in her name and El perhaps realizing her brother loved her boyfriend. The scene is messy no matter how he tries to think about it.

“So, knowing what I know now, I have to ask,” Mike turns his body halfway toward him, propping a hand on the bed. His fingers just barely brushing Will’s own. “All that stuff about me being the heart, did you mean it?” Mike looks at him, his eyes bouncing around and unfocused, his voice displaying the barest quiver of fear. “Any of it?”

Will doesn’t know what makes him tell the truth. Maybe it was the gentle way Mike looked at him, or maybe it was the hint of doubt in his voice. Maybe it was all the flirting finally getting to his head. It’s Will’s turn to make contact with Mike’s wide eyes as he prepares to say, “I meant every word.”

“Okay.” Mike breathes out, in what Will would almost call a whisper, the beginnings of a small smile in the corner of his lips, “okay, good.” He bends down and grabs the pile of notebook paper, trusting it to Will, “I want you to have these.”

“What are they?”

“Letters,” Mike says simply, nodding to himself, taking another breath, “they’re letters I wrote to you but never sent.”

Will feels like the universe is playing a prank on him, he can’t possibly have heard that right, “you wrote to me?”

“I did.”

“Why didn’t you—?” Mike interrupts his sentence, tapping the top letter with his finger.

“I think you’d understand better if you read them.” He looks Will in the eye, and he thinks he’d do anything Mike could ask for if only he would keep looking at Will like this. He picks up the first letter and starts reading.

Will,

How soon is too soon to write a letter? I don’t know if there’s any rules about that, I hope not. You just left yesterday and are probably not even in California yet, but I wanted you to have something as soon as you get there. Maybe this will get to your new house even before you do. Say hi to El and your mom for me.

Mike

Will feels himself smile, the image of Mike wiring this in one of his many notebooks flooding his mind. He had written the very next day. Will caresses the page with a thumb, “I would’ve loved receiving this when we got there.”

“Yeah,” Mike nods, mimicking his smile, “but apparently you need an actual remit address for letters so,” he shrugs, “it stayed in my drawer.”

Will nods, reading it over once more. It was sweet. Maybe it was for the best he never received it, it would’ve only hurt more when Mike inevitably stopped writing. His best friend then uses a foot to nudge at his own, nodding at the papers.

“Read the next one.” He does.

Will,

How’s California? Do you like it there? I bet it’s better than here. It’s like time has stopped since you guys left. It feels like nothing happens anymore. I know that’s not true but it feels like that. We all miss you a lot. I hope you’re having fun. Have you gone to the beach yet? Max says she always liked the beaches in California. I bet they’re nice. I’ve never gone to a beach, not like a real one that isn’t at a lake edge. Is it as nice as they say? Maybe I’ll visit you and we could go to the beach together, that’d be nice. Me, you, El, and your mom and Jonathan too. I think I’d like that.

Mike

“I hadn’t,” he smiles at the letter, clarifying once Mike looks lost, “gone to the beach yet.”

“You don’t even know when I wrote this,” Mike smiles back, laughing lightly.

“No, but it took us three months until we had enough free time so we could make it out there,” Will says, guessing the letter had been written not too long after the first one. By the look on Mike’s face, he thinks he guessed right. “It is nice though, I think you’d like it.”

Will can already picture it, with Mike getting in the water before being talked into building sandcastles, getting sand stuck to his entire body, and then throwing some at Will once he laughs at him. It’s a nice image. He hopes he can see it someday.

“You’ll just have to take me in the future then,” Mike smiles at him, somehow reading his thoughts. He is clearly trying to make himself light but Will can tell there’s a sort of tension running through his veins.

“Mike what are you—?”

“I promise there’s a point to this,” he says, perhaps a little too fast. Interesting.

Will,

I tried calling again but you didn’t pick up. It’s been three weeks since we talked and I miss it. I miss talking to you. I wish your mom never got that job. Or that you still had your walkie. I miss when you were able to just come and stay over at my place. I don’t remember the last time we did that. Must’ve been years ago. It’s so dumb how that’s considered kid’s stuff, like why do we need to stop with everything good that we had just because we’re older now?

Since Steve works at family video now, Dustin has found a way to score us a free rental a week, so the guys and Max come over and we watch movies in the basement. I wish you could be here for the next one. (We’re watching Back To The Future.) Movie nights are just not the same without you there for me to whisper my thoughts to. Dustin gets too entranced to hear and Max just tells me to shut up. Lucas always backs her up too.

You’ll have to promise me to come over at least once for one of them when you come to Hawkins again. I bet you’d be able to make them even better, somehow.

Love, Mike

His eyes immediately focus on the choice of closing. He feels a little lightheaded from all the information just thrown at him. Mike had wanted to talk to him, had missed the days where they’d have sleepovers, staying up until way past their bedtimes. He wonders, maybe, if Mike would still want to do those things again.

“You called?” He asks, focusing on the easier aspect to talk about.

“So often,” Mike lets out a self-deprecating laugh, hanging his head down, “the line was always busy.”

“How often?” He asks, half out of curiosity, half out of a need to know just how much he had misunderstood their falling apart.

“Like once a day, at least at first,” Mike admits, looking away, and Will doesn’t think he’s imagining the flush on his cheeks this time. “It got more sparse once I got the memo, but I never stopped trying.”

“Oh,” he says smartly. He imagines the timeline in which his mom still had a “normal” job and the phone was free. A timeline in which he and Mike talked on the phone everyday. He wonders what that would’ve done for his heart.

“Yeah.”

“I hope the movie nights are as good as you imagined,” Will says, trying to find something else to change the topic to.

“They’re better,” Mike smiles at him so sincerely Will can almost feel himself choke into thin air. He focuses on the next letter, his breath immediately catching at the new greeting.

Dear Will,

Sometimes I think I miss you more than I miss El. Please don’t tell her that. It’s just that, I have to go to school tomorrow for the first time since you left and I don’t know how it’s going to be without you there. I can’t remember the last time I went to school without you. Knowing you were fine but just, not with me. Dustin and Lucas will still be there but it’s not the same. Not without you.

Love, Mike

The implications alone make him feel dizzy. Mike can’t mean what he seems to be writing. Missing Will more than his own girlfriend. The mere notion is absurd and yet here is it, written in blue ink into notebook paper.

“School was rough without you too you know?” He says instead, choosing the coward’s route. “I thought I’d go insane.”

“At least we’d do it together.”

They look at each other then, holding eye contact for a long time. Or rather, Will holds eye contact, Mike seems to be looking down, just slightly. Eventually, Will breaks and moves to the next letter.

Dear Will,

I joined a new DnD club in school. Me, Dustin, and Lucas. It’s called the Hellfire club and it’s run by this senior, Eddie. He plays guitar in a band and he’s like really cool. Sometimes I wish I was more like that. They also call him a freak but he’s proud of it. I think you’d like him. I hope you forgive me from playing again, after everything. It was stupid of me to say all that to you. I know I was being a mouthbreether. Sometimes I think I speak before I think even when I don’t mean it, not really.

I know you said you wouldn’t but sometimes I hope you found a new party to play with, that you’re still having fun with someone who doesn’t lash out at you just because he doesn’t understand his own feelings. But I also hope you didn’t, it’s selfish, but DnD was OURS. I know I’m a hypocrite, but I don’t really care. I wish I could go back to last summer, so I could play with you like old times. So I never would yell at you. I’m sorry again. I don’t think I ever said that.

Love, Mike

“I never wanted to, you know, find a new party,” Will says, it was truly not something he had ever considered, “it wouldn’t be the same without you guys.”

“Can’t say it was the same without you either,” Mike smiles, “at least not for me.”

Will looks down at the letter again, scanning its words once more. He wondered what Eddie had been like. He did sound really cool, Will wonders what he’d think of him, if they had ever met. Unfortunately, he’ll never know.

“Do you think Eddie would’ve liked me?”

“I know he would’ve,” Mike says, inching his hand forward until it was covering Will’s, “it’s impossible to not like you.”

Will takes a sharp breath the second he feels Mike’s hand on his. It feels really nice. Will thinks maybe their hands were made to fit together. He shakes his head to get rid of the thoughts as he moves to the next letter, having only two left.

Dear Will,

Your line is always busy you know? I wish I could talk to you. I wish I could hear your voice again. I wish I had the courage to actually send any of those letters. I think I’m a coward. Maybe I’ve always been one.

You never write to me. And I guess you probably think I don’t either. Do you also have letters written to me you never sent?

Do you remember anything that happened while you were controlled by the mind flayer? I never asked, I guess I didn’t want to force you to live through that again. I thought I was going to lose you then, you know? I guess I’m losing you anyway.

Back then, I told you asking you to be my friend was the best thing I ever did. I think letting you slip away has been the worst.

I hope you pick up the phone sometime.

Love, Mike

This one hits like a punch in the gut. Maybe Will should’ve tried to reach out more, sent in a letter first. If only he could keep the boy who was supposed to be his best friend from hurting.

“Mike…” he starts, voice breaking for his best friend, who interrupts him.

“Don’t,” he breathes hard, avoiding eye contact. “Just read the last one.”

Dear Will,

I’m going to California next week. I don’t know how I’ll face you again. Not after everything.

I’m sorry I’ve been distant, it felt safer. I don’t know what it means that I miss you more than I ever thought I would. I think I miss you more than I do El and that is scary. The longer you’re gone the more I realize I never once pictured my life without you, sleeping over in the basement and coming up with drawings to my stories.

Nothing is the same with you gone. Not DnD, not school, not Hawkins. It’s like everything changed without asking me first if it could.

Sometimes I don’t know if just “best friends” cuts it for me anymore. Dustin and Lucas are also my best friends but it isn’t like this. I would miss them but not like this, don’t get me wrong it would suck, but it wouldn’t feel like my whole life stopped. Every paladin needs their cleric and I think you’re that for me. I think you’re my person, Will. I don’t think I can ever tell you that.

I don’t know how I’ll talk to you again. How I’m going to hear your voice without breaking and saying things I shouldn’t.

This is stupid. I won’t send it anyway.

See you soon.

Love, Mike

He thinks he could cry, if only all air hadn’t been taken out of his lungs. This might as well have been written by him, in the corners of a sketchbook he’d refuse to open again. He doesn’t know how many times he’d referred to Mike as his person before, countless, probably. Suddenly, he feels this is the missing piece of the puzzle that is Mike Wheeler, finally clicking into place in his brain. Mike who had missed him more than anyone else, who couldn’t imagine life without him, who felt his life stopped the minute Will left. Mike who refers to him as his person and flirts with him through D&D and sits way too close during movie nights.

Mike who, if he’s reading this right, and he has to be reading this right, probably feels the same about him. It’s such a grand revelation Will doesn’t even know how to address it. So he goes for what’s easiest.

“I’ve never once played a cleric, Mike,” he says, intending his tone to be soft and teasing but his voice comes out shaky due to what he’s just put together.

“Well, yeah, I know, not in the game, but,” Mike sighs, his gaze pointing in each direction at least once before finally settling into Will’s eyes. “You’re my cleric, Will.” He says, placing his free hand over his heart, the other still resting over Will’s. It’s then that Mike says the thing that makes him certain he’s not wrong, “I think I made my oath to you that day in the swings.”

It takes his breath away all the same. Will doesn’t think he will ever stop having this reaction to Mike.

“What are you saying?” He asks, twisting his hand just enough so that their fingers slot together. He needs Mike to say it. He needs to be completely sure, before he does something astronomically stupid.

“You know it’s really funny,” Mike laughs, looking intently at their intertwined hands, “I had a whole problem with signing letters to El with ‘love’. But I did it to you without even thinking about it.” He looks up at Will, his face is open and while his eyes are soft, Will can see the smallest amount of underlying fear behind them. “It scared me, but the more I thought about it, about us, the more I realized you were never just a friend to me, not really.” He laughs and tugs at their hands, forcing Will forward until they’re eye to eye. “And I think I really am going to go crazy if I don’t get to kiss you, like, right now.”

Will smiles, this is everything he’d ever want to hear, everything he never thought he’d get. Mike Wheeler wants to kiss him. There’s only one problem.

“I,” Will stammers, he hasn’t done this and he doesn’t want to be, he doesn’t even know, disappointing or something, “I don’t know how to?”

“It’s okay,” Mike leans even closer, if they had been mere inches apart they now might as well be considered as occupying the same space. Mike’s eyes are trained on Will’s lips, “I’ll teach you,” he looks up into Will’s eyes, perhaps the most vulnerable he’s ever looked, “if you’ll let me?”

Will doesn’t even get to say the entirety of the word “please” before Mike uses a hand to cup his face, placing the other in the back of his neck and gently pulling him forward. They meet in the middle, and Will has never kissed anyone before but he can see why people enjoy doing this. Mike tilts his head to the side and Will tries to follow his lead, moving to the best of his ability. Mike’s lips are soft and he tastes like minty toothpaste. They separate only to come together again. His heart feels so full as he runs a hand through Mike’s hair in the way he’s always wanted to. Will thinks he really could do this forever.

“See?” Mike says as he leans forward to peck Will again, their teeth clinking together from how he smiles, “you’re a natural.”

Will kisses him again. They stay like that for a while, trading kisses back and forth until they’re smiling so hard it becomes almost impossible. Will is the first to pull away, keeping his hands where they rest on Mike and keeping him close.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure”, Mike says easily, fluttering his eyes open to look at Will. From this close, Will can count every freckle on his face.

“Since when have you liked me?” Mike laughs out loud at that, it’s soft and giddy and Will knows immediately he’ll do everything in his power to hear that laugh again as often as he can.

“I realized a couple of months ago,” he says, a smile overtaking his face, “after I figured it out about the painting it was like I had a glimpse of something I couldn’t stop seeing.” He looks down, smile somehow growing fonder, “but I think it happened before. I think that I might’ve always loved you.”

“Me too,” he breathes out, “but I knew when I was twelve. It took me a while to fully accept it but in some way I think I knew then.”

“That far back?” Mike smiles at him, gently holding his face, “I don’t know how you did that, I only knew for a little while and I felt I was going to explode.”

Will shakes his head, biting down on his bottom lip to stop his smile from growing, oh how wrong had he been. “I didn’t think you could ever like me—”

“Love,” Mike corrects him, ever so gently, “I love you.”

Will can’t believe he gets to hear these words, he kind of wants to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. “I love you too.”

“Good,” Mike smiles and pulls him close again, “you know what you should do?” Mike kisses him once on each cheek, before he cups his face in his hands, “you should be my boyfriend.”

Will leans forward to kiss him again, only he fails because he can’t seem to stop smiling. “I think I can manage that.”

They stay like that for a long while, smiling into kisses and love declarations, until eventually exhaustion wins over and they fall asleep in each other’s arms.

♡ ♡ ♡

The party makes it back to the village a week before the festival, dragging the bandits back with them to be handed over to the prison in the next town over. They refused to talk, but went willingly, and that was good enough for the four of them.

Our heroes return to The Lucky Robin, celebrating among themselves while Gabe returns the crown. The three of them deciding they don’t need the recognition, only the small reward Gabe promised and the feeling of a job well done. Lucas and Dustin are indulging in some tavern games, while Will The Wise sits at the bar, nursing a cup of mead.

It doesn’t take long before Gabe slides himself into Will’s side, signaling the barkeep for a drink and turning to the wizard with a smile, “hi.”

“Hey,” Will smiles back, feeling like he can finally let himself feel the affection he has for the man beside him.

“I’m pretty sure you figured that out,” Gabe says, clearly nervous, smiling with eyes trained on the ceiling, “but I really like you.”

“I really like you too.” Will smiles back, feeling his heart fill with warmth. He can’t believe the guy sitting behind him is being this cute about the whole thing, now that it was out there.

“That’s good.” He breathes more than speaks, tapping his fingers on the counter top, a shy smile overtaking his lips. His cheeks are flushed and Will thinks he won’t ever get enough of the sight. “I won’t ask you to stay, you have to adventure, I have the guard. I understand that. But I’d love it if you stayed for the festival.”

Gabe smiles at him sweetly, his eyes almost closed. He steps into Will’s space, until they’re a mere inch apart.

♡

Will Byers really should’ve seen this coming.

He should know to expect Mike was up to something when he asked him to sit at his side for this session, claiming it was so the girls could sit at the table and share his usual spot, as it apparently has a good vantage point.

Max had finally decided to see what the game they loved so much was like, saying it was due to hearing her boyfriend talk about it for hours on end. Will had a sneaking suspicion she just wanted to witness Mike flirting with him firsthand. El had tagged along for the gossip and moral support, as Max had come home from the hospital less than a week prior and still needed assistance to get around. She wouldn’t let anyone else help her, claiming she didn’t need any boys treating her like she was fragile.

It had been nice to have them there, even if this was the downtime between campaigns, only one battle having to be fought on the way back to the village. Will even caught the two of them smiling and visibly reacting to the rolls of the dice.

It had been so nice, in fact, that he didn’t question the seat reassignment. After all, his usual spot did have a good view of the battle maps, and he wasn’t going to complain about sitting close to his boyfriend. The thought still made his insides fizz. Mike Wheeler, his boyfriend, who would’ve thought?

In retrospect, he should have questioned it. As Mike turns to him then, in order to narrate Sir Gabe Whepler’s next actions. His eyes moving up and down Will’s face in a way that feels so genuinely Mike that he forgets to read into his intentions.

“So Gabe turns to Will The Wise, grabs him by the robes,” Mike says, as he grabs Will’s shirt by the collar. “And kisses him.”

Mike then leans forward, gently pulling Will to meet him in the middle, and kissing him square on the mouth. In front of all their friends, from whom Will can hear gasps and knows they are no doubt staring at them. It only lasts a second, Will making a small noise of surprise before finding it in himself to kiss back. He finds himself smiling. When Mike pulls away, he’s smiling back.

“Did Mike just kiss him?” Max asks, in what Will thinks might be disbelief. She squints at the two of them, turning her head in the vague direction of El for confirmation.

“He did,” Lucas is the first to answer, he looks at Will pretending to look worried. The smile he can’t fully fight back betrays him, “please tell me that wasn’t the first time he did that.”

Dustin snorts, “ it definitely wasn’t, Will would be flipping out if it were.”

Will can’t argue with that. When he speaks, it’s through a giddy laugh, “you’re right, it wasn’t.”

Lucas stares at them like he’s never seen them before, “since when has this been going on?”

“Just last night,” Will finally breaks eye contact with Mike, turning to look at his friends. They’re all smiling, albeit in different ways. Dustin and Lucas have matching wide grins, Max a small smirk, she moves her eyes as if attempting to bring them into focus. El’s expression includes the softest upturn of her lips. Will shoves Mike’s chair just slightly, “what did you even do that for?”

“What?” Mike smirks, looking at him through the corner of his eye and raising an eyebrow, his voice tilts down in the way it always does when he’s being sarcastic, “I can’t kiss my boyfriend if I want to?”

El darts her eyes back and forth from Will to Mike at least five times before echoing, “boyfriend?”

Mike stops in his tracks, likely just then realizing he should probably have told his ex-girlfriend about officially seeing her brother before he kissed him in front of everyone else. “Yeah,” he says softly, scanning her face for any sign of disapproval. El just smiles.

“I’m happy for you. Both of you.” She smiles at Will. He can tell she truly means it. “But Mike?” She turns to him, drops her smile, and lowers her voice. “If you hurt him I will make you regret it.”

Mike sputters. Lucas laughs loudly, leaning over the table and raising a hand up for a high five. She giggles as she slaps his hand back.

“Guys!” Mikes calls out, clapping his hands together to get the others to focus, “I think you’re forgetting what really matters,” he turns to Will then, propping his chin in one hand and smiling, “what does Will The Wise say back?”

Really, Will thinks, who allowed this guy to be so cute? He knows he’s biased but he doesn’t know how anyone can look at Mike Wheeler and not want to give him the world. That does not mean he can’t mess with him, a little. If anything he thinks he’s earned it.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Will shrugs and taps his fingers on the table, putting on a performance of pretending to think. He looks back at his boyfriend, raises an eyebrow, and asks, “can Gabe roll persuasion?”

Dustin bursts out laughing. Mike jumps as if he has been burned and scampers to find his dice. He shakes the small bright orange D20 in his hands, closing his eyes and muttering. He looks like he’s praying but Will knows the words are most definitely a mix of curses and threats to the integrity of said die should it fail.

He rolls a seven.

“I can’t believe this,” Mike stares at the plastic rock in disbelief. “All that effort to create a campaign for you and I roll a fucking seven?”

Honestly, Mike needs to just stop saying things like this, is he even aware of what he does to Will’s poor heart? “You made the campaign for me?”

“Well, yeah,” the words are soft, matching his eyes and smile when he looks at Will. They look at each other, suspended in time for some seconds before their bubble is burst by a loud noise.

“I knew it!” Max exclaims and slaps a hand on the table before turning and pointing a finger at Lucas, who has his head in his hands. “You owe me twenty bucks!”

Mike hangs his head back, making a pathetic little sound and looking at Will from the corner of his eye. “Can I have advantage?”

“Absolutely not,” he laughs, shaking his head. But then Mike pouts and Will immediately decides he can have anything he’s ever asked for, actually. He nudges Mike’s chair with a foot, rationalizing to himself that a little bending of the rules never hurt anyone. “But you’re in luck, because I think Gabe’s ‘flirting with Will The Wise’ modifier is a ten. You rolled a seventeen.”

Mike lets himself fall forward and looks at him, mouth slightly agape. Dustin snorts, “damn, can’t even give him a twenty?”

“And let that get to his head?” Max leans back on her chair, shaking her head as she smiles at them. Mike is still looking at Will expectantly.

“Okay, so, I look back at Gabe,” Will turns to face Mike, looking him up and down, trying to pretend to be the wizard who had just been asked out by the cute guy who saved his life. Magic aside, he finds it pretty easy to put himself in that position. “And I say: I was hoping you would ask that. ”He feels his own cheeks heat up as Mike looks at him like nothing else in the world is worth looking at. Will almost does something stupid. Then, he realizes he still can, sort of. “And then, uhm, then I kiss him again.”

Will lets his friends’ responses fade into the background, as he focuses on his boyfriend and links a foot around his ankle. Mike jumps in his seat, a little surprised, doing a double take before maintaining eye contact. Once their eyes meet, he beams at him and Will feels his breath stop. Mike’s freckles stand stark against his flushed face, the lips that had just kissed him are stretched wide but still manage to look soft. Mike reaches over and links their hands, his eyes a mirror of all the love pooling in Will’s heart. He’s never looked so beautiful.

As he squeezes his boyfriend’s hand from under the table, he thinks that if it’s up to him, then Will is sure he’ll never take his eyes off Mike ever again.