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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months

Note

Hi friend! 👋 I’d like to submit a request, if I may. It’s not an original prompt, I don’t know where I first saw it, but I haven’t seen an actual fic with this premise yet.

Will comes out to Nancy who goes “I know nothing about this BUT I know someone who does” and brings him to Eddie, who brings both of them (bc let’s be honest Nancy isn’t letting Will out of her sight alone with Eddie) to a gay bar in Indy. Lo and behold who do they see but Steve and Robin. And it’s obvious to those who know what to look for (Eddie) that they’re both looking to get lucky. Steddie endgame (obvs lol) but maybe some Byler as well if you want/can swing it..?

I love everything I’ve read from you so far and I’m sure I’ll love everything you come up with! ❤️ thank you!!!

My star ✨✨✨ This is a future fic, but not future enough for Will to be 21 (I'm gonna put him at 19, almost 20 here so still like a tiny baby but also an adult). The first part of this is definitely Will focused, but there is more focus on Steddie at the bar itself. - Mickala ❤️

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“Nancy? Um, can I talk to you?”

Will had been working himself up to this for weeks, months really. He came out to Jonathan and his mom officially last weekend, though they both already knew.

He wasn’t exactly good at hiding it, and around them, he didn’t really try.

But Nancy Wheeler was smart, and she was quick to come to conclusions, and probably already had figured it out.

Plus, she was decent at giving advice, and could possibly give him some insight into how Mike felt if he felt anything at all.

That was why he was here, coming out to her, being brave.

“Of course,” Nancy replied, smiling comfortingly.

She knew. He knew she knew. But he had to say it out loud, he had to get it out there to other people.

“I just have to tell you something that’s like, a big deal, and hopefully it doesn’t bother you, but also I don’t want it to be a big deal. It doesn’t have to be, actually. I just-”

“Will,” Nancy placed her hand on his shoulder, looked up at him with a knowing smirk. “Just say it.”

“I’m gay.”

There. He said it. It’s done.

Nancy nodded once, like she was confirming that she heard him, but she already knew, which was what he expected.

“Anything else?”

“Um. I’m in love with Mike?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious. Anything else?”

“What do you mean it’s pretty obvious? I thought I hid it okay!”

Nancy laughed. She actually laughed.

“The only person who doesn’t notice that you’re in love with Mike, is Mike, and that’s had a few close calls. And before you ask, I have no idea how he feels. I know he’s in denial about his sexuality, so once he clears that up, who knows. But for now, let’s focus on you. What do you need from me?”

Nancy had a “let’s get down to business” attitude that Will respected, that everyone respected, but she sometimes forgot that not everything was business.

“Well, I guess just…support?”

Nancy raised her brows.

“That’s it? You already had that.”

“I guess maybe…advice?”

“I mean, I really don’t have any for Mike. He’s an enigma even to me,” she started.

“No. I mean, it would be helpful to have it, yes, but just. In general?” Will interrupted, a blush covering his cheeks.

“Oh! About…” she trailed off as she realized what he was asking.

“Okay, well I don’t know anything about that or really anything, but I know who does!” Nancy clapped her hands together.

—-------------

“Eddie?” Will asked as they stood on his porch, waiting for him to answer the door.

“Uh-huh.”

“Eddie’s gay?”

“Well, he’s bisexual, but he would be the one who knows the most,” she answered.

“Prettier Wheeler! What a surprise!” Eddie exclaimed when he opened the door. “And my favorite Byers! Were we supposed to be doing something tonight? Fuck, did I forget something? Wayne is convinced the bats ate the part of my brain that holds memory, even though they didn’t even bite my head.”

Eddie was a rambler, sort of like Robin, but he usually at least made some sense.

“No, no you didn’t forget anything. Will just needs some guidance on something,” Nancy said as she pushed her way into the trailer. “Is Wayne home?”

“Uh. Nope. Come on in, I guess,” he said, nodding at Will.

Once they were all settled on the couch and chair, Nancy gestured for Will to tell Eddie.

Will wasn’t prepared for it, but he knew he could trust him, especially if what Nancy said was true.

“I’m gay.”

It was getting easier to say out loud, just like it had been easier to say to himself when he first realized it and started letting himself think it every day.

“Amazing! Was that a secret?” Eddie asked, somewhat confused.

“Apparently not as much of one as I thought. But yeah, just my mom, Jonathan, Nancy, and you know. Officially, anyway.”

“So you have a boyfriend? Is that why you’re coming out?”

“No. I haven’t-”

“Oh, so Mike hasn’t gotten it together yet?” Eddie asked, playing with his rings distractedly.

“Nope. But it’s gonna take a big moment for that to happen. Will just needs some guidance on other stuff,” Nancy said.

“Oh! Like sex?”

Will was as red as he could possibly be.

“No! Not sex. Just, like, being gay I guess.”

Eddie looked between Will and Nancy a few times.

“Right. So let’s go,” he said as he stood up, making his way to his bedroom at the end of the hall.

Will and Nancy looked at each other, then back to where Eddie disappeared.

Before they could say anything, Eddie was back in the room, his new denim battle vest pulled on, and his boots laced up.

“Let’s go. Got places to be, queers to see!” Eddie yelled as he started moving out the front door.

“What the hell,” Nancy shrugged, getting up and following him out the door.

“What is happening,” Will said to himself as he followed them both.

—--------------

What was happening was that Eddie was taking him to a queer bar on the outskirts of downtown Indianapolis.

He’d heard of the place during his very little research of the local scene. He’d heard it was shut down twice in the 70s because of police raids, but now it was mostly just a quiet, safe place for queer people to be themselves.

The bar was laid back, only two bartenders even on the busiest nights, usually just pouring draft beers and the occasional martini. A jukebox in the corner never stopped playing, even when they only had a handful of customers.

A sign at the door said “THIRSTY THURSDAY: QUENCH YOUR THIRST AT THE BAR AND ON THE DANCE FLOOR!”

Will felt a little out of his element as he took in the amount of people crowding the bar, the tables, the small dancing area that really couldn’t even be considered a dancefloor.

Eddie seemed right at home, and he explained it was because he came pretty regularly, usually just to try to convince the owner to let his band play sometime, but he’d managed a few bathroom hookups along the way.

Will couldn’t hide his blush at that thought, knowing that he was in a place where that would not only be possible, but that it would be encouraged, maybe even expected had his mind fantasizing.

He welcomed it; Anything to get rid of the thoughts of Mike, who would probably never get his head out of his ass even if Will came out to him.

“Alright, one drink rule for the kiddo!” Eddie said as he walked to the bar with a hop to his step.

He was always exuberant, but he just seemed light here.

Will kept looking around, taking it all in.

Nancy suddenly grabbed his arm, and when he looked over, her eyes were huge.

He followed her line of sight, only getting distracted for a moment by a very attractive man who looked to be about his age.

His eyes settled on Steve and Robin.

In a queer bar.

In Indy.

“Is that-”

“It is.”

“But-”

“Uh-huh.”

Eddie came up behind them, drinks in hand.

“Alright, drink up! Take the edge off and then you can have some wonderful experiences- what are you two looking at?” Eddie looked over and his eyes widened. “Not possible.”

“It’s them.”

“But, they aren’t. Are they?”

Eddie squinted, looking at the way they were standing, what they were wearing, the way Steve was open to the room, not turned towards Robin.

“Oh my God,” he said.

“What?” Nancy’s head whipped towards him.

“How did I miss it? I spend so much time- but, no. He- and she- no.”

“Eddie, you aren’t making any sense! What?” Nancy whisper-yelled, as if anyone could hear them over the sound of everyone else talking and the music playing.

“They’re both queer! They’re here lookin’ for someone!”

“That’s impossible. Steve is the straightest person I know. I think even Mike knows he’s more likely to-” Nancy was cut off by Will hitting her arm. “What?”

“Robin just looked over here.”

“Shit.”

They all looked at each other, panic in their eyes, as they realized it was only a matter of moments before they were completely caught here.

But, really, what was there to worry about? They were here, without knowing anyone they knew would be here, clearly looking for someone.

Will turned back to them, watching as Steve and Robin both looked at them with wide eyes.

“Might as well go talk to them,” he said before walking towards them, not waiting for Nancy or Eddie to agree.

“O…kay,” Eddie sighed before following.

Nancy followed silently, and Eddie didn’t really have time to figure out what her face was doing because Steve and Robin ended up meeting them halfway.

“Hi guys!” Robin waved, awkward as always, maybe more so because of where they were. “Kinda weird seeing you here, right? Like in Indy? Or in a bar? Since Will is underage! And also this is a pretty specific establishment, so-”

“What Robin means is,” Steve starts, lines in his forehead making him look more serious than he needs to be. “Why are you in a queer bar in Indianapolis?”

Robin smacked Steve’s arm, but he didn’t even flinch, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Like he was ready to protect Robin.

And himself.

“Well, this happens to be one of my favorite bars, and Will needed to be in this type of environment for the first time, ya know?” Eddie said in a way that would definitely give away more if Robin and Steve were actually here because they were queer.

“So you’re…” Steve relaxed slightly.

“I am. Are you?”

“Um. Yeah. Yep. I am.”

“Me too,” Robin added.

“Yeah, so am I,” Will said.

All of them looked to Nancy, who suddenly seemed to catch up to the conversation.

“Oh! Um, not me! I don’t think. I’m just here for support!” She had never looked or sounded as nervous as she was in this moment.

“So how’s the crowd today?” Eddie asked.

To be honest, Eddie hadn’t bothered trying to find a hookup here for months.

The reason?

The man standing in front of him: Steve Harrington.

He’d tried, really he had.

But every time he thought he would get beyond basic flirting with someone, he thought about the way Steve sometimes touched his arm or his shoulder for longer than he needed to when he passed by him, and the way Steve would rest his head on his shoulder during movie nights, or the way he sometimes looked at him like he wanted to devour him.

Like he was right now.

Eddie would be nervous about it, but he doesn’t think Steve actually means anything by it.

He just has a very intense stare sometimes.

“Eddie!”

“Sorry! What?” He turned to see Robin and Will giving him knowing looks. “What?”

“I’m gonna take Nancy and Will over to a table that just opened up. You coming?” Robin asked.

“Sure, in a minute. Gonna run to the bathroom first,” he said, ignoring the way Steve was still watching him.

He walked away before anyone else could say anything.

He just needed a minute or two to collect himself.

The realization that Robin and Steve were here for the same reasons he was was probably going to need more than a minute or two, but he could deal with it later.

The bathroom of this place wasn’t the best, probably hadn’t been properly cleaned since the place opened, but it also wasn’t the worst place to have a minor breakdown.

He didn’t cry, but it was damn close.

It was overwhelming to know that there were others in their little group like him, but it was also just a lot to take in that those other people included Steve.

He heard the bathroom door open behind him, but he didn’t look up, just assumed it was someone else from the bar.

He stood at the sink, looking down, gathering himself to go back out and pretend this was entirely normal when a hand gripped his waist.

His head shot up and he looked in the mirror to see Steve’s reflection looking back at him, a hesitant smile on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They stared at each other in the mirror, silent except for their breathing and the muffled sound of the music from outside the bathroom.

“I didn’t know you were…”

“Me either,” Eddie said quickly.

“You didn’t know you were queer?”

“No! No. Wait. I did know that. I knew it a long time ago. I mean I didn’t know you were,” Eddie clarified, unable to properly focus on anything except the way Steve’s hand felt on his side.

His thumb was rubbing circles against his shirt, the fabric bunching up little by little.

“It’s a new-ish discovery.”

“How new?”

Steve looked down at where his hand was resting on Eddie, then back up, his face red.

“March.”

“Oh?”

Eddie caught up quickly, realized what was happening, and definitely didn’t want it to stop even though he wasn’t sure how far he wanted it to go in the bar bathroom.

“Yeah. This annoying guy who was trying to steal Dustin from me decided to get involved in all our fucked up shit and Robin informed me that the way I was acting and talking about him wasn’t very heterosexual. Her words, not mine.” Steve smirked. “So, I kinda just admitted to myself I was into him and now I’m here.”

“Oh. Is the guy at this bar right now?”

“Yeah. He is.”

Eddie turned around and pushed Steve against the bathroom door as gently as he could.

“You’ve been driving me mad for years, Stevie. You know that?”

“Years?” Steve gulped, but kept smiling.

“Years. And now you’ve given me all that I need to do something about it.”

“Have I?”

Eddie answered him with a kiss.

It wasn’t spectacular, wasn’t even that good as far as kisses go.

Steve seemed caught off guard, like he hadn’t actually expected Eddie to take what was right in front of him, take control.

But then he caught up.

His hands gripped Eddie’s hips tight, the rest of his body relaxing against the wall as Eddie crowded against him further, their fronts touching from head to feet.

Their second kiss came right after a pause for breath, and that one was spectacular.

It was longer, wetter, hotter.

Eddie didn’t want it to end.

But someone banged on the door and they couldn’t be those people.

As they moved away to let the person in, Steve leaned his head against Eddie’s shoulder, like he did on movie night.

“So you’re into me too?” He asked.

Eddie could hear the smirk in his tone, didn’t even need to look down or at their reflection in the mirror to know he was being a little shit.

“No, I just kiss all the boys who come up behind me in bathrooms.”

Steve leaned his head back and nipped at Eddie’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Behave, big boy. Gotta go pretend we weren’t five seconds from fucking around in a public bathroom,” Eddie said as he guided Steve out of the bathroom.

When they got back into the main room, Steve tensed, started to pull away.

Eddie let him, tried not to let it bother him.

But then he was back, head back on his shoulder, arm around his waist.

“Sorry. Just. Not used to this being something I can do,” he said so only Eddie could hear.

“‘S okay. We’re safe here, though.”

No one commented on it when they got back to the table, though they both could tell everyone wanted to.

Will seemed ready to explode with excitement when someone came and asked him to dance and everyone at the table encouraged him to go.

He wasn’t much of a dancer, but he’d learn.

Nancy and Robin eventually went back to the bar to grab more drinks, and Eddie couldn’t help but watch the way Nancy was looking at one of the women who was standing alone by the jukebox.

“Hey, is it possible that Nancy’s…”

“Oh, yeah. Robin and I have had at least four conversations about how much the Wheelers desperately need to admit to themselves that sexuality is fluid.”

Eddie pulled away to look down at Steve, baffled at how educated he was on everything and kind of hating himself for being surprised.

“You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart.”

Steve kissed his cheek in response.

—-------------------

Nancy came out to them a month later, at the same bar, while staring at the same woman who was standing by the jukebox the month before.

She didn’t really use a label, but didn’t feel like she had to.

Mike took a bit longer, but eventually, Will lost his patience and kissed him.

He came out about ten seconds later.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #request #coming out #will byers #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #byler is mentioned #mike wheeler is not in this but talked about #and is it really a mickala fic/ficlet/headcanon without a love confession

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frogboyandzombieface · 2 years

Note

Ok ok for your fic prompt request- Another Byler fight but this time with a love confession 👀 :))

a03 link above ^

words: 7059

summary: Mike travels all the way to California only to ignore Will all over again, repeating the previous summer. But there's more reasons than he's letting on this time.

author's note: hii everyone thank u to @novalunosiss for giving me this prompt it was so much fun to write !!! i tried out present tense which was weird for me but i hope u guys like it nonetheless djhsfdkj i dont write oneshots often so sorry if this is like clumsy or something . anyways let me know what u think, rbs seriously appreciated !!! <3

(title from fake plastic trees by radiohead (a hella byler song from mikes perspective imo)

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Mike’s been ignoring him again.

And, look - he’s not trying to do it, really - it’s not out of malicious intent or something like that. He wasn’t like that anymore. He’d promised himself to leave how he acted last summer in the dust, and he was doing everything he could to keep it that way.

He’d wanted to see Will in person so bad it physically pained him, to actually talk to him and touch him and be able to view his soft, lopsided grin with his own eyes instead of just hearing it through his voice over the phone. Ever since the move, Hawkins had been a smear of bleached, tedious days that never changed, always dull, lifeless. His and El’s absence was a glaring presence in his life; knowing that the Byers weren’t nestled in their little corner in the house that had nearly been as much, if not more, of a home than his own on Maple Street, that he couldn’t hang out with Will at the arcade or read comics in his room and laugh at Mike’s terrible impression of The Joker. That he wouldn’t see El’s ever-inquisitive beetle eyes gazing at him, asking him a million questions about the music playing on the radio or what school was like whilst they lounged about in her room, in between their make-out sessions (which still made him cringe. He was such a try-hard).

Which was why he was so eager to get to California during their spring break so he could see them again. The two most important people in his life.

But when he laid eyes upon the boy that had thrown his entire life upside down (hardy har), leaving him lost and lonely like a loose piece of clothing tossed around in a washing machine, his entire resolve was abandoned and flung out the window.

Will had been so excited, he could tell. Familiar hazel-green eyes sparkling in delight after spotting Mike in the airport, eyes that he’d longed for in hushed late-night fantasising sessions, unable to contain the grin forming on his lips that he wished, oh god, wished he could kiss. Mike felt the same - happier than he had been for a long, long time. Every inch of his body was basically vibrating with the urge to run straight into his arms like some cheesy romance chick-flick and hold him close and long, fulfilling his stupid secret dreams that he wasn’t brave enough to perform. There had been a rolled up piece of paper in Will’s grasp, possibly a poster.

He just couldn’t deal with it all. He was so utterly afraid of himself and how he felt, of his disturbing revelations over the winter, leaving him confused and like a rabbit caught in headlights.

So he’d skipped his gaze right over his best friend’s hopeful face and made a beeline for El.

She had been familiar, beautiful, soft and warm - he could’ve nearly convinced himself of his love for her again like he had last summer once she enveloped him in a welcoming hug, but if only for a moment. He’d seen Will’s face crumple into a sort of tired resignation, and his heart had ached, voices whispering cruel in his mind: you’re hurting him because you’re a coward.

Instead of listening, he threw an arm around El’s shoulders and refused to meet Will’s gaze whilst they walked out of the airport.

The drive back to the Byers’ new house was incredibly awkward. Joyce had been overjoyed to see him, of course, and he found that he’d missed her; it was like returning home after a long day, in a way. Familiar and comforting, like El. Will sat in the passenger seat - which was a bit of a blow to Mike, but he deserved it, he knew - leaving El and Mike in the back while Joyce drove them home.

Joyce had asked a couple of questions about how he was doing back in Hawkins, how school was going and the like. Mike had answered amiably, though rather shortly, his mood dwindling to a gloomy irritation at his own ignorance; though he wished Will would at least try and talk to him, relieve the awkwardness, because it was quite obvious to the others that there was something wrong between them again. Yet the boy was stonily silent, not looking anywhere except out of the passenger window.

Their new house looked unusually expensive - not a mansion, per se, but certainly something that was way more lavish than their rickety old house back in Hawkins. Mike wondered if there had been a possible outside force who assisted. He didn’t care, either way; it was nothing compared to that old bungalow full of treasured memories. Cold, unwelcoming, barely lived in, despite the Byers’ best attempts to make it theirs.

He still hated the fact that they had left. Yeah, Hawkins had a lot of bad memories, but it was theirs. They had grown up there. They had people who loved them still there. But it was too late now.

They had a celebratory lunch back at home; hot dogs and sandwiches, mainly, the four of them congregated around the dinner table, and Mike did his best to enjoy it. Jonathan was able to drop in for about five minutes to say hi, but had to leave since he was meeting up with a new friend of his named Argyle, or something like that. His hair was longer and scragglier than ever, and he noticed the bags under his eyes were darker than they used to be; Mike wondered how he felt being away from Nancy.

“So, Mike, how is the rest of the party doing?” Joyce attempts to diffuse the tension that hangs over them, heavyset and crackling like sparks ready to ignite and set the whole place on fire. Just waiting for the first move.

“Oh, they’re alright.” Mike takes a sip from his can of coke, unsure what exactly to say - he glances over at Will, who sits opposite Mike and El, clearly trying to be as far away as possible without raising suspicion from his mother. El was eating her second hot dog, looking quite content, though her eyes kept darting from Mike to Will - she was definitely smart enough to pick up on the tension between them both. “Lucas joined the basketball team. Dustin’s the same, mostly. Max is, um.. still dealing with Billy’s death.”

Joyce tsks, gaze flooding with a knowing sympathy as she takes Will’s empty plate to put in the dishwasher; something they didn’t have back in Hawkins, if Mike can recall.

“Poor girl. It’s never easy..” Mike can’t help but watch her - the way her hand clenches around the lip of the countertop, usually lively eyes blankly staring at the windowsill for a moment. She was thinking of Hopper, clearly. But as quick as that moment happened, it was over, and she clapped her hands, smiling genially at them all as she asked “anyone want any thirds? Tell me now before I put the rest of the hot dogs in the fridge.”

“I’d love another one, please.” El smiles up at Joyce; she ruffles the young girl’s hair with a grin and says “that’s a good girl,” before beginning to make up another one for her. Mike didn’t miss the way El’s gaze sparkles happily at the praise. He realises how eerily similar they all looked - the same soft brown eyes, shy smiles, and El basically looks like a mini Joyce with her similar haircut. It was like she really was a member of the family, instead of a random escapee from a lab who performed experiments on her that they happened upon. Mike still has trouble believing that actually happened, despite it being three years ago now.

The rest of the lunch goes pretty smoothly, actually, despite Will’s lack of speaking: Joyce is concerned, clearly, and directs a couple of questions his way - he answers normally, for the most part, but never goes out of his way to speak. Guilt boils in Mike’s stomach like some foul broth.

Once it’s all over, El invites Mike to her room; echoes of last summer enter his mind, and he could almost imagine himself climbing onto his bike and kicking off down that familiar route to Hopper’s cabin, every time he ever got a chance. There’s clear anger in Will’s expression now at being slighted all over again, and Mike wants so badly to just apologise and return to him, return to how it had always been before El came along. But he can’t. Now that he knows… what he knows, he doesn’t know if he could ever stand being alone with him ever again. Will wouldn’t ever want to see his ugly face if he knew, anyway.`

It seems that Mike wasn’t going to be able to escape, though, because before he could follow El into the room on the right, Will moves in front of him and blocks his path. There’s an air of determination and barely-concealed frustration about him as he stands there, arms crossed over his chest, meeting Mike’s gaze head on with a single raised brow.

“What the hell’s going on?” He asks.

The younger boy swallows thickly, tries not to display the animalistic fright that tenses every muscle, poised to run the moment he gets an opportunity. Will has clearly changed, physically, since he last saw him in person - his shoulders had broadened even more and filled out, and he’d shot up quite a few inches, indicating he was probably going to rival Mike’s height in a couple of years. His voice had dropped even more octaves than it had over last summer, his jaw stronger and sharper now, and Mike feels his nerves sizzling underneath his skin like he was being fried from the inside out. He doesn’t know if he can keep his cool for very long around this Will, who looks so grown up and attractive and was that a new mole on his neck?

“Um. Nothing. What are you talking about?” His voice comes out more defensive than intended, and that unfortunately prompts Will’s hackles to rise like they were stray cats circling each other, poised to strike.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Mike.” They both glance subtly at the half-open door to El’s room - if they didn’t stop soon, she would grow suspicious as to why Mike hadn’t come in yet. Mike’s thrown by the word ‘bullshit’ coming from Will’s lips, leaving him stumbling for a response for a few moments. “I thought we were done with this. I thought you had gotten better.” He hisses through clenched teeth, meeting his gaze imploringly. Mike’s heart thudded against his ribcage and in his ears, as if threatening to tear through his skin, louder than his own thoughts.

I’m sorry, he pleads desperately in his mind, I’m so sorry. I adore you. but he doesn’t say it aloud. Instead, he says: “I’m not doing anything, Will. I’m happy to see you, really, I am, but I’ve been wanting to see El too. She’s still my girlfriend, y’know.” Mike wasn’t entirely sure if that’s true, though. They had broken up last summer, but never officially got back together between then and now.. But it wasn’t like Will knew that.

“You guys broke up, though.” Will frowns at him.

“Yeah, well- we unbroke up, or whatever.” He gestures vaguely; Will probably knows that he’s lying, but as the other boy opens his mouth to speak, El calls “Mike, are you coming?” And Mike takes the opportunity to slip away.

The last thing he sees before he shuts El’s bedroom door is Will’s crushed face, looking angrier than ever now. Mike hates himself. But it was the right thing to do. He just needs a second to… process. And yeah, you could say he had the entire winter break to ‘process’, but now that he was actually within Will’s presence, he has literally no clue what to do with himself. He feels so afraid all over again.

El eyes him partially curiously and concerned when he turns around to look at her - Mike’s worried for a moment that she’d heard their conversation, but it seems that she hadn’t because she inquires: “What were you and Will talking about?”

“Oh. Nothing, really, just saying hi.” He replies, rather weakly. Her room looks relatively similar to her room at the cabin - just bigger. She has some drawings she must have salvaged from the wreckage pasted up on the wall, a poster of Ralph Maccio, one of Madonna, and a few other things. There’s a few pictures, too - of her with the party, multiple with her and Max, some with her and Mike, and there were newer ones with her and Will as well. Have they become proper friends now? Mike guesses that they must’ve had to, anyway; they were all alone in a new school, in an entirely new state across the country. They only had each other, really. And they are technically siblings now.

“Nice room.” He comments, running a single finger over her desk - there was a 3d model taking up most of the space on top, slightly battered, of a certain familiar cabin surrounded by trees and a tiny policeman figurine out on the porch.

“Thanks.” She responds rather shyly; the two of them gravitate towards her bed, where they both sit opposite each other, like the old days. Though there’s a considerable distance between them this time - El sitting up at the head of the bed, with Mike at the foot. His thoughts drift back to Will. He wonders what he’s doing now; is he in his own room, plotting how exactly to beat Mike to a pulp, or has he already forgotten about it and is now listening to records or doing homework? Maybe he’s spending time with Joyce? He kind of wants to know what his room looks like.

“How are you, El? How’s California?” Mike opts to try and make conversation. He did truly miss El, and she’s still important to him. Just because he finally discovered his true feelings didn’t mean that he doesn’t still care about her.

“It’s good.” He can tell she’s lying about that; her gaze skitters to the side and the corners of her lips turn downwards when she’s thinking of something bad. His heart twangs with sadness. He’d hoped that she was at least having a good time in Lenora Hills. “I’m getting used to school. Will, Jonathan and Joyce are nice.” She actually smiles upon mention of her adopted family, though.

“That’s good. Have you made any new friends?” He picks absentmindedly at a loose thread on his shorts.

El hesitates for a moment; she then responds with a small “yes.” Mike has a feeling that certain events are repeating themselves. He kind of wants to envelop her in a hug, let her know that he understands, and that she, kind, understanding El with a beautiful soul, doesn’t deserve that. At all.

He instead endeavours to cheer her up with some better news on his side. “Well, the party’s certainly been missing you.” He smiles softly at her. “Max complains about being the only girl in the group now all the time, saying she has no idea how you stood us boys by yourself.”

All her previous dejection flies out the window at the mention of the party, lips pulling up in a delighted grin, round doe eyes bright. “I can tell she misses you.” He adds.

“I miss her too.” She murmurs softly.

“Dustin and Lucas too. Dustin has a long ass list of movies he wants you to watch, the connoisseur he is.”

El giggles lightly, though clearly confused about what the word ‘connoisseur’ meant.

“Are they… okay?” She asks eventually.

Mike frowns. “What do you mean?”

“After..” She pauses again, tongue darting out to lick her lips. She meets his eyes. “Starcourt.”

Oh. Certainly a touchy subject. All the air flies out of the room, like it was trying to escape from the topic itself, leaving yet another tense silence that had them both shuffling awkwardly on the bed, indecisive on what to respond with.

Maybe in the past, Mike would have lied and said everything was okay, everyone was fine and there was nothing wrong - he used to be so hellbent on protecting El, on keeping her happy and safe.. But it wasn’t good to lie to her about that. She was smart and her own person, after all. He could almost hear Max’s voice in his head berating him for treating her like a pet.

It would suck, knowing everyone’s struggling; especially that El still secretly blames herself for the entire Upside Down thing, even though everyone’s told her over and over that it wasn’t her fault and there was nothing to be done. He wasn’t going to bullshit her.

“Not really.” He admits eventually. El purses her lips, gaze dropping to the floor. She probably knew they wouldn’t be great anyway. “Max is still incognito like she was after Billy’s death, but it’s even worse now that you’re not here. She mainly spends her time with Lucas, but even then.. not that often anymore. Lucas is super protective over Erica, more than before- probably because she could’ve easily died at the Russian base, and she knows everything now. Dustin is just trying to be happy, like he often does when things get hard. I mean, we’re all still trying to make it work, but.. yeah.”

El stares at him sadly. She reaches out a soft hand as if for him to take; he stares at it for a second, before hesitantly taking it, entwining their fingers. They both smile at each other. Even if they weren’t together anymore, they were still friends, and Mike was glad for it. “What about you, Mike?”

“Well…” Flashes of countless sleepless nights with Will’s face behind his eyelids, sneaking out bedroom windows to go and brood in the darkness of night, stealing cigarettes off Eddie Munson from the Hellfire Club, avoiding Dustin, Lucas and Max because he just couldn’t deal with their pity and endless mental breakdowns over his new, um.. revelations come to mind.

“I miss you and Will. But. I’m fine, really.”

His ex-girlfriend stares at him for a long moment - obviously not believing him for a second. She always has that uncanny intuitive ability to see through everyone’s lies, knowing when you’re not telling the truth. Friends don’t lie.

“Mike..” She begins, raising her eyebrows at him, but he deflects, palm instantly flushing with cold when he takes his hand away from hers. This time, unfortunately, he had to lie.

“I promise, I’m okay, El. Yeah, I mean, shit’s hard, but.. it’s not any different than before, really. It sucks that you and Will aren’t here, though.. I think about you guys every day.” He makes sure to meet her eyes, keeping his hands free from shaking or showing how he’s swallowing nervously at the idea of her knowing his secret.

She seems to relax at that, at least, sending him a warm smile and nodding. “Okay.” She pauses before slowly getting to her feet, holding out a single hand for Mike to take so he could join her. He takes it, standing up and brushing off his shorts. “Mike?” She asks one last time, slowly letting go of his hand as they stood in her bedroom.

“Yeah?” He turns to look at her.

“Know that.. I’m still here for you. Okay?” She smiles at him one last time. “You’re my friend.”

He’s incredibly touched by those words. “Thanks, El.” He grins, nudging her shoulder slightly. “I’m here for you too.”

The sun was ready to lay to rest by the time they had dinner. It was a much more enjoyable affair, mainly on account of Mike actually making himself engage with the family, and generally being back in their presence, even if he and Will weren’t on the best terms at the moment. Jonathan was still absent, apparently - he only hopes that it’s not a common occurrence.

He couldn’t stop staring at Will. He’s sitting in the same spot that he’d sat in during lunch, and while his downcast eyes and the upset slope of his mouth revealed how he truly felt, he seemed fine: he smiles and laughs when El makes a joke, talks to both her and Joyce while they ate their spaghetti, and even talks to Mike during the small amount of times that they had to otherwise it would look weird. He can’t stand the space between them, though; they were supposed to be sitting pressed up next to each other, elbows and knees bumping as they pass each other the salt - something that always happened in the past. They were supposed to be laughing and joking with each other, sending shy grins and probably leaning closer than was most likely necessary and actually excited to be reunited again. That’s how it was supposed to go.

But Mike’s a stupid, pathetic coward who can’t face up to his own feelings and in turn is ruining the most precious friendship he’s ever had in his life.

The moment dinner’s over and Joyce is clearing up everyone’s plates, Will vanishes; presumably into his room or something like that. Even though Mike knows it’s his own fault, his stomach still drops and dejection floods his lungs like icy water, snatching his breath away. He has to talk to him. But he wants a moment to himself first, to psych himself up.. the fear was still overwhelming. El asks if he’s coming back to her room; he says he’ll catch up with her in a bit, and she acquiesces and disappears into her own room. It leaves him alone with the head of the family, who’s stacking the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher, cursing and muttering to herself as she tries to turn it on.

“Darn thing,” She chuckles once she finally gets it to work. Mike smiles when she meets his eyes for a moment before wiping her hands on the front of her jeans; they were decorated with quite a few patches, obviously having needed to be sewn over and over again. “I’ve never gotten used to it, even though we’ve been living here for nearly seven months.”

“Well, you’re better than my dad, at least. He doesn’t even try to learn how to use it.” He half-jokes.

She laughs, and it seems to light up her whole face. “Well, you’re lucky you have your amazing mother.”

Mike trains his eyes on the tablecloth, the dark stain on the corner where El spilt some of her drink earlier catching his attention. Last he’d spoken to his mom, there had been an argument about his skipping school and bad grades and how he was ‘throwing away his future’. He can remember her anguished face when he basically told her to get lost. He has quite a lot of regrets following him around lately.. like shadows that will never fade away. “Yeah.. I am.”

There’s a long moment of silence after that. There seemed to be quite a lot of silences that day; but what the hell could they even say, anyway? Ready for the next inevitable supernatural terror to wreak havoc upon us? How did you deal with losing both Bob and Hopper within a year? I think I’ve been in love with your son since we were five years old and I have no idea what to do about it because I’m afraid I’ll lose him?

He suppresses a sigh. No good throwing salt into old wounds; he slowly rises to his feet, politely pushing his chair back in afterwards - yet, Joyce appears to understand what he’d been thinking because she places a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving.

“Mike?”

He meets her eyes; someone he basically considered to be his second mother.

“Yeah?”

She smiles softly at him, squeezes his shoulder once before letting go.

“Good to see you again.”

He smiles back at her, a childish contentment thrumming in his veins like he was ten years old and getting praised for getting an A+ on his maths test. After his rocky relationship with his own parents, who still didn’t even know the gigantic secret his eldest children have been hiding from them for the past three years, it was nice to get some actual affection from a maternal figure.

“Thanks, Mrs. Byers. It’s nice to be here.”

With that, he strides away towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms, a new determination propelling him forwards. He can’t let this go on any longer than it already has; Will didn’t deserve to be shoved aside, brushed off and ignored like he wasn’t important just because Mike was struggling with himself. It wasn’t fair. And seeing his crestfallen face, that unfortunately familiar sorrow that was very present last summer every time Mike disappeared early with El and created yet another excuse why he couldn’t come to the arcade or the movies, he couldn’t stand knowing that he’d caused it. Will had already gone to literal hell and back, he didn’t need his closest friend being an asshole on top of it all!

He spins around uselessly in the hallway. Where was Will’s room? Was he even in there at the moment? There was a door left wide open at the end of the hallway, but when he peers into the room to see large flannels thrown across a messy bed, obscure band posters and a camera lying lonely on the desk, he realises it must be Jonathan’s and tries the door to the left. It has that familiar NO TRESPASSING sign hung up out the front, considerably more scuffed than it had been in the past, and he knows that it’s got to be Will’s bedroom.

“Will?” He calls out softly, gently rapping his knuckles on the wood as if being too loud would somehow frighten him away like a scared animal. “It’s Mike.” There’s no response. He frowns, tilts his head closer to the door to see if there’s any noise coming from inside. When he comes up with nothing, he slowly turns the doorknob and pushes the door open (he was extremely disconcerted for a moment by the lack of creaking that Will’s door always produced, like he’d forgotten that this was their new house) to be met with no Will, only an empty bed and desk.

He can’t help but linger for a few seconds, though, curious coffee-coloured eyes scanning the room hungrily, taking in every possible detail he could manage. It almost looks.. the same, in a way.

It’s bigger than his previous room, obviously - with pallid yellow wallpaper instead of the old-fashioned flowers. His bed’s bigger, though unmade and messy like it always used to be, and there’s an easel and canvas in one corner; had he progressed to painting now? Mike itches to run over and look at what he’s currently painting, but decides against it. He’s not that nosey.

His old Jaws poster is still there, along with lots of other movies and music that he knew Will listens to, but there’s a new one of a beach with palm trees. The words The Cure are printed in yellow across the top, with Boys Don’t Cry along the bottom. He smiles softly, affection surging in his chest like a tidal wave threatening to crash over him. Even if it was different, it still was unapologetically, authentically Will. And Mike couldn’t be happier for it.

Forcing himself out of his sentimental reverie, the tall and lanky boy retreats from the room and begins to search around the house.

He doesn’t find him in the bathroom, not the laundry or the lounge room (Jesus, their TV was nearly bigger than Mike’s!); he’s about ready to give up, to try and get some time alone with Will possibly tomorrow, but a tiny idea worms its way into his mind, and he knows exactly where he’ll be.

After a few frustrated moments of searching, he locates the back door leading out into their backyard - which was the only thing that wasn’t bigger than their previous house, since it was about the size of a shed - and throws it open, a bit louder than was likely necessary.

“Will?” His voice echoes into the still evening. The air is warm and crisp, not freezing, but the dregs of winter’s still apparent in the sharp sting against his skin, raising the hairs on his arms and causing him to fiddle with the sleeves of his t-shirt. The sun hadn’t sunk below the horizon yet, but it was on the cusp of doing so - staining the scudding clouds with pretty pinks, oranges and purples. After a few long seconds of scraping his gaze through the garden, searching, he spots Will sitting in the grass, back to the house with his knees up to his chest, arms wrapped protectively around them.

Mike’s stomach feels like it’s sinking all the way down his body to his feet, oozing out his shoes and onto the back porch like water. He hates seeing the tense line of Will’s shoulders, the short, angry breaths causing them to rise and fall faster than normal. He’s definitely still upset.

His initial instinct is to run the hell away and never have to confront Will or his … feelings for him, leaving him safe and protected in the darkness of the closet, where he can keep pretending he’s straight and in love with El and a totally normal, cool kid; but he knows that it’s stupid and fruitless. Because that’s not him, no matter how hard he tries (and sometimes successfully manages) to convince himself, it’s simply not who he is and he just has to accept it. Whether he likes it or not. And.. he does not fucking like it.

He doesn’t know if he ever will.

Sucking in one last deep breath, as if to prepare himself, Mike descends the back porch steps and makes his way over to Will, his untied shoelaces dragging in the dew-laden grass.

“Will..” He begins again, more tentative this time; he’s tempted to reach out a hand once he stops just behind his best friend - who hasn’t moved an inch so far - but keeps his arms firmly by his side, anxiously fiddling with the loose thread on his shorts again.

In one swift movement, Will jumps to his feet and spins around to face Mike, and he’s completely caught off guard by the unadulterated fury and hurt present on his face, curling his lip and furrowing his brow, his body nearly vibrating with it. Oh okay, so I’ve supremely fucked up this time. He thinks in despair.

“What the fuck happened back there?” Jesus, he’ll never get used to Will swearing like that. His hands are on his hips, which are jutted angrily to one side, and Mike almost takes a step back though manages to refrain. “Why are you ignoring me like it’s last summer all over again?”

“I-I’m not ignoring you,” He stammers, his fearful, cowardly heart thudding in his chest.

“Come on, Mike.” Will groans, slapping a hand, frustrated, to his forehead before pinning him with a glare that could rival Hopper’s intimidating looks. “Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot, ‘cause I’m not.”

“I’m not treating you like an idiot!” Mike protests vehemently. Please understand why I can’t be around you. Please.“ You’re the last person I’d ever think was an idiot!”

“Then why are you doing this?” A splinter of hurt is clearly visible in his eyes now, showing where exactly all this fury was really stemming from; Mike could barely breathe seeing it, feeling like his lungs were being crushed by a ten tonne weight - knowing he’s causing it all, it’s all his fault, he was hurting his best friend because he didn’t know how to deal with his own feelings. “You never even said hello to me.”

“I-I..” He searches desperately for something to say, but he can’t. Will’s right.

How did it become like this?

“But no, I get it, El is more important now. She’s your girlfriend after all, right?” All the fight seems to seep out of him, like blood drained from a wound, and he kind of curls in on himself, like he wants to be as small as possible. Unnoticeable. Because that’s who he is now, right? Just some passing shadow, ever present but never paid attention to. “Who am I compared to the superhero who saves the day?”

“Will...” His name comes out in a hoarse whisper, eyes squeezing shut because he just can’t deal with this right now, it’s too much..

It seems to stun Will into silence, though, because he doesn’t say anything for a good while. He doesn’t know what he does while his eyes are closed, but eventually Mike forces them open and meets his gaze. The other boy looks almost curious now, still quite upset, but he appears to realise that there’s more underneath the surface; that Mike wasn’t ignoring him just because he thought he was a loser and didn’t want to be his friend anymore.

His attention catches on the way Will’s soft chestnut hair colours orange in the fading sunlight, reflecting in his wide, beautiful eyes and Mike adores him so much it hurts.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologises eventually. “I’m not trying to- to ignore you … I’m really not. It’s just- it’s so hard right now, I’ve got all this shit I’m trying to deal with, and I-...” He feels tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill over, and he holds his head up towards the sky, determined not to let them go. “I’m sorry.” He whispers.

Will frowns slightly.

“Mike.. you can talk to me about it, you know that, right?” He takes a timid step forward, as if approaching a frightened animal that could bolt away as soon as you make a sudden move. “You’re my best friend. I’m here for you.”

“But that’s the thing, Will! I can’t talk about it. I .. I can’t.” He throws his hands up to the sky in utter frustration. He almost feels like cursing whatever God is up above, watching down on them, but if life is supposed to be this fucked up, then he thinks that he either doesn’t exist or is a complete dickhead. “Trust me.. I would. If I could.”

Those words leave them in another pause - Mike slowly sinks to the ground, like this endeavour has been incredibly taxing, resting his head in his hands. Will appears to accept his answer, because he doesn’t press further and instead sits opposite him, crossing his legs neatly.

They sit together in the quiet of the Byers’ new backyard. A bird trills loudly, soaring over their heads and disappearing into the garden next door. In the distance, a car starts up - someone calls goodbye. Even if their world’s been torn apart and left in tatters, the rest still moves on.

“El’s not my girlfriend.” Mike admits eventually. “I lied before.”

“Do you.. want to be with her again?” Will asks softly, hushed. As if they were at risk of being caught doing something they shouldn’t be.

Mike briefly sinks his teeth into the bitten flesh of his bottom lip. “No.” He confesses.

“Why not?” Will’s head cants to the side, like a curious cat spotting a butterfly. There’s a new tension thickening the air around them now - not wrathful and upset, but nervous and heart-stuttering, like some new revelation has been uncovered.

“I.. I don’t like her anymore.”

Will doesn’t respond at first. His pupils swell like black moons the longer he looks at Mike, lips parting a sliver; it drives him insane, feeling like his head was full of helium and causing him to float up into the stars above like a lonely balloon. He wants to kiss him so badly.

“Oh. I see.” He says eventually. The sun had fully submerged beneath the horizon at this point, the only source of light being the house behind them - the windows giving them a view of the lounge room poured warm light onto them like their own personal sun concealed in one space. Mike could hear a distant door opening and closing; Joyce’s voice greeting someone, and Jonathan responding. He must’ve just come home, then.

“Mike,” Will begins again; the taller boy lifts his head to meet his eyes, nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. The older boy smiles encouragingly at him, reaching out a gentle hand to nudge his bare knee - it sent electricity firing like bullets up his spine and straight to his brain, fuzzing his thoughts until it was all Will, Will, Will. “I’m not going to pressure you or anything, but.. please know, if you need to talk about what’s going on with you.. I’m here.” A pause; Mike’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. Should he.. should he just go for it? Will continues: “Okay?”

“Okay.” He answers; his voice is a little hoarse from lack of speaking, and he carefully clears his throat. This is it. Don’t fuck this up, Mike, or else you’re done for. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Will echoes, the hint of a smile playing across his lips; it makes Mike chuckle, breaking out of his seriousness, for a moment at least, before he tries to psych himself up again.

“I’m trying here, alright? Just give me a moment.” He grins; his heart soars like the bird when Will grins back, and it almost feels like old times again. The only thing that’s different now is.. his feelings aren’t so strictly friendly anymore. “The truth is, Will… god, this is so hard..” He sucks in a strangled breath, pressing the heel of his palm to his eye to prevent more pathetic tears.

“It’s okay, Mike, I’m not going to judge you, I promise.” Will scoots forward slightly, leaning down to catch his best friend’s eyes. When they meet, he smiles softly. “Crazy together, remember?”

Mike laughs, rather wetly might I add, though he’ll never admit that aloud. “Yeah. Crazy together.” They’re subdued for a few moments, then he propels himself to continue. He was determined to tell him the truth, regardless of what could happen - worst comes to worst, he can go back to Hawkins and Will never has to see Mike’s disgusting face ever again. “The truth is.. It’s always been you, Will.”

“Me?” Will blinks slowly at him, looking almost.. shocked, as if someone could ever have a crush on him. Which was bullshit, because Will was utterly amazing in every single way. Who wouldn’t love him?

“It’s just.. I never really realised it until recently. It’s always been- buried, really, deep down inside me, but I never let myself notice it was there until now. Probably between Starcourt and you moving away.. That’s when I knew. And it’s been so, so hard because it’s thrown everything I’ve known about myself out the window. That’s why I’ve been ignoring you, and probably why I did last summer, too.” He slowly falls onto his back, mainly so he doesn't have to look at Will’s face, instead staring up at the night sky. It’s a comforting sight, and he felt like he could convince himself that they were watching over him, letting him know everything’s okay. “It’s still shitty, I know, and I’m not about to make excuses for it… but now you know why, I guess.”

His pulse is beating so fast now that he’s afraid he might have a heart attack; he tries his best to keep his breathing slow and calm, but it’s a little difficult when he’s just bared his soul, leaving it open and on display for one of the most important people in his life to examine. He only hopes that Will handles it carefully.

“Mike,” Will’s voice is like a siren’s song - ethereal, soothing, and his breath is snatched fully from his chest when his face hovers over his. His cheeks are flushed and eyes brighter than the sky above, his lips still parted like he was too shocked to close his mouth. “I understand.”

He huffs out a disbelieving laugh, but when the other boy slowly reaches out his hand to entwine his and Mike’s together, still staring at him with that look that’s making his head spin, he suddenly understands.

Oh.

“Um..” He stammers slightly, trying to think of something to say, but Will only smiles softly from above and tells him it’s okay. Mike can’t breathe. He truly feels like he can float now, like he can fly and speed along like the bird that flew over their heads, and his stomach explodes with joyful, euphoric fireworks like some cheesy romance movie, his most desired dreams having come true. There’s just one thing that would complete it..

“Can I…?” He begins, holding up his free hand to cup Will’s soft, beautiful cheek, staring into his beautiful eyes and taking in his goddamn beautiful face.

Will knows what he means, because he nods slowly with a barely-suppressed grin, and slowly leans down; Mike sucks in a stuttering breath, letting his own eyelids flutter shut as he lifts his head to meet him.

And, as he kisses Will Byers for the first time in the backyard of his new California home under a sky full of stars, amongst overgrown grass and lazy wildflowers, Mike feels freer than ever.

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