#mikes pov

[flaringgoosebumps]

The past few months I've been so lost without you. I'm just so different from other people and when you're different, sometimes you feel like a mistake..

but you make me feel like I'm not a mistake at all

like I'm better for being different

and that gives me the courage to fight on

If I was mean to you

Or if it seemed like I was pushing you away

it's because I'm scared of losing you

Just like you're scared of losing me

And if I was going to lose you, I think I would just rather get it over with quick, like ripping off a bandaid

so yeah, I need you and I always Will

[chirpsythismorning]

Looks up and down repeatedly:

KEEPS STARING INTENSELY AFTER WILL LOOKS AWAY:

👀 Is that…? What’s he—

?… It’s— Wait. Me?… Are you sure?… I thought that was for—

Okay if you’re sure… 🫣😅😥🫠

[edelweiss-coffee]

writing a byler painting confession fic like everyone else does but it’s from mike’s pov. here’s an excerpt :-)

update: it’s here!!

[nnay-naee]

Byler edit on Idea of her by Cavetown

Original idea is @dis-a-ppointment's

[bylersdontcry]

wherever you are by 5 seconds of summer being byler coded 💙

[tastytoecheese]

'Nights in white satin' by the moody blues is SO byler coded

[sinclairstarz]

guesss who finally finished this early 2000s mike after like 4 months😍😍😍

[bylerisc4non]

Joyce being immensely confused because this is how she sees Mike:

she's probably like are we talking about the same mike??? the mike that befriended my son and told him it was the best decision he'd ever made??? that cute lil boy that was constantly worried about will???

[thefirstlioveyou]

can we talk about how devastating this shot is?? the fact it’s the last shot we get of mike that can have, honestly, an ambiguous meaning behind it.. if you look at it surface level.

this isn’t the portrayal you look for when someone just saw their friends move away. we know mike when he loses someone, he’s emotional. we see him crying when he’s saying goodbyes in s3. but, in this specific moment, he can’t even walk normally. he just stands there with no physical emotion at all.

this isn’t a sense of loss, but a sense of realization of something he couldn’t see sooner - or, maybe, something he didn’t want to see at all.

he realized something when he felt everything all at once when will told him he’d never find another party, but nothing at all when el kissed him.

this is more than a “i dont wanna grow up” situation for mike.

this shot is practically a cliffhanger for mike’s character, but it’s very overlooked by the “mike’s the worst character now!” crowd, and it sucks!

[scarlyrubies]

just saying that s3e1 focused more on milkvan seen by hopper and others' eyes than milkvan itself

[sp0o0kylights]

There were a lot of things Mike hated in life.

The demogorgon, and how it had essentially destroyed his life.

 Brenner, and the madhouse laboratory El had survived. 

How each and every one of his friends now did something weird--were weird, because flashing lights or fireworks or some stupid tune a toy horse played dragged up memories that made their eyes flat and faces hollow. 

Most of all though, Mike hated how much they relied on Steve.

There was no reason he should be the person to call when it started pouring and no one wanted to bike home from AV. 

Steve wasn’t Nancy, or Jonathan, or a parent--he wasn’t even dating anyone related to any of the Party anymore so what excuse did he have to keep hanging around? 

(Even if Jonathan was always working, and Nancy was always busy with some club or homework, and everyone’s parents all seemed to be in a race of who could get back to normal the fastest…) 

They should at least try to get a hold of other people, instead of constantly going to Steve first.

“Why?” Dusitn had scoffed at him the last time this had happened, feeding quarters into a phone and staring at Mike like he was the one being unreasonable. “I’m not gonna waste money just to hear your sister tell us no again when we all know Steve will do it.” 

Which was perhaps the most infuriating part of it all.

That Steve would do it. 

Show up and help them, even if he bitched the whole time. 

Hell, Steve Harrington knew more about Mike’s life offhand than Nancy did, and that made him want to punch a wall more days than it didn’t. Why the hell was Steve so involved? 

It was stupid. 

Weird, even! They weren’t friends, (even if Dustin and Max and El of all people said the opposite) he wasn’t being paid to babysit, (Mike had double checked; going round to ask Ma Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair, only to get an earful of how wonderful Steve was from both.) he had no reason to hang around! 

It didn’t make sense that Steve could be harassed into picking them up from school. 

Would take them to get ice cream, or hand over extra quarters for the arcade. He even gave out advice like some kind of--brother that Mike had never wanted. 

Above all?

Mike hated that when he needed someone, the number he punched in on automatic was Steve’s.

“I need you to come get me.” He said into the receiver, mad at himself and the world, but mostly mad that beyond the normal amount of squawking Steve did, he shut up and came. 

Drove up in his rich boy car, stepping out and herding Mike into it like the rain hadn’t already seeped into his bones. 

“You wanna tell me why you snuck into a bar two towns over?” Steve asked, long after Mike had slung himself into the passenger seat, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

“No.” 

One of Steve’s hands went right to his hair, running through it before adjusting the mess he’d just made. 

It was a nervous habit, and Mike hated that he knew that too. 

“Okay, well.” Steve’s hand fell back to the steering wheel, clenching tight around it. “Next time you want to do something dumb could you at least come talk to me about it beforehand?”

“What the hell would that do?” Mike bitched, staring firmly out of the window. 

“Not waste my gas for starters.” Steve bitched right back. “But I dunno man, we could have taken some bats and gone and wailed on cars in the junkyard and talked or some shit, not--whatever this all was.”

‘This all’ was accompanied by a wave of his hand, indicating not just the bar Mike had been standing in front of, but his general sopping wet state. 

“You’d actually go to the junkyard with me?” Mike challenged, doubtful. 

Steve made a face. “Did you lose your hearing in there? I just said--.” 

“Why?” Mike interrupted. “Why the fuck would you come out with me?”

Matching his entire aggressive tone, Steve said; “Because it’s better than trying to sneak into the one local gay bar when you’re barely fourteen, Michael.” 

And that? 

Steve being oddly aware of shit he really shouldn’t have?

Mike hated that too. 

“You knew what the bar was?” He asked, his voice coming out much smaller than he intended. 

“Everyone knows what that bar is, except it’s more of a biker bar than a gay bar.” Steve shot back--which did actually explain about ten different questions Mike had about the place. “Also, language you little shit.” 

Under his breath, Steve continued in a muttered; “I swear I’m going to start carrying around soap.”

“You cuss more than we do.” Mike responded, and if his own voice was a little strangled as he fought back the sudden swell of tears, then that was between him and God. 

He was not crying in front of Steve Harrington, he outright refused. 

“The point I’m making is that there are way better bars to sneak into. That one’s not nearly as welcoming as people make it out to be, probably because they’re sick of all the rumors.” 

Steve seemed to realize what he was implying because he quickly added; “Not that you should be sneaking into any bars at all!” 

“You’re not my mom.” Mike’s voice turned wet as he lost his battle with his throat, voice cracking as he failed to choke the tears back.  

“No shit Wheeler.”  Steve said, and at least he was good enough not to call attention to Mike’s crying. 

If he had, Mike was pretty sure he’d just up and die of embarrassment, right there. 

“I don’t get why you care.” He muttered, angrily swiping at his eyes. 

“I didn’t keep you alive this long just so you could die of something stupid.” Steve countered easily.

Which was kinda fair, if you thought about it.

Mike very much did not want to think about it. 

Any of it.

Ever. 

“Are you gonna tell my parents?” He asked after a painfully long moment. 

Long enough that Steve had begun fiddling with the radio, trying to find a station as they drove back that wasn’t wailing country or gospel music. 

“I’m not a narc, so no.”  

“Not about the bar.”  

Now Steve just looked confused. 

Probably because he was, because he was without a doubt the stupidest almost adult Mike knew. 

(Not that he could say that out loud--last time he had, Max had made one of her pissy faces and then El got mad because Max was, which led to a break up, which led to Mike having to beg his way back into his girlfriend’s good graces while explaining that he hadn’t meant it like that.

“How did you mean it then?” Max demanded, and Mike wasn’t sure how he managed to dodge that entire conversation but he had, on grounds that untangling his own emotions regarding stupid Steve made him want to pull his hair out and scream.) 

“What about then?” 

 “You know. Don’t make me say it.” Mike absolutely didn’t plead, even if it did sort of, kind of, sound like pleading. 

Steve flicked his eyes away from the road to give one long, weird look at Mike. The same one he gave Dustin when he went off on a rant about Cerebro or Lucas when he started discussing the stats of different D&D weapons. 

Unlike those times, Steve’s face cleared. 

“Oh.” He said, blinking, and Mike could practically see the light bulb flash above his head.

Then; 

“Nah.” 

Mike waited.

And waited.

And kept waiting as Steve went back to searching through radio channels, as if that was the end of the conversation.

It couldn't be the end of this conversation.

Not when this was the part that was eating Mike alive.

He didn’t know if this was Steve repressing it on purpose or if this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life if he kept trying to figure his own head out, but either way, he knew he had a choice to make. 

To let the unspoken part of today die quietly. Go unsaid, and remain unsaid, for all eternity--or he could let it out. 

Shove the “gay” part of “gay bar” in Steve’s stupid, jock face. 

Make him acknowledge it, even if it got Mike kicked out of the car, and who cared if it did? 

Steve wasn’t the person who should have picked him up anyway. 

The anger climbed higher and higher in his chest, tears and rage combining until Mike spat it all out, furious. 

“You’re not going to ask if I’m gay?”  

Steve didn’t turn to face him, but Mike saw his eyebrow cocking anyway, given how he was currently glaring a hole in the side of the older teen’s head. 

“Do you want me to?” 

“No.” Mike bit out automatically. “Yes. I don’t know!” 

Steve’s hand found its way back into his hair. 

“Okay then.” Steve paused, clearly fishing for something to say. 

Gleefully, Mike watched him struggle. 

“Do you like guys?” He managed finally, looking like he was navigating a minefield more than just talking.

“I don’t know.” Mike stressed, sinking lower in his seat. “Why do you think I was at the bar? I was trying to figure it out!” 

“Honestly I assumed this was some sort of stupid dare--but!” Steve held up a finger, before Mike could interrupt, “But let’s--shit, hold on, I had a speech for this but I kinda wasn’t expecting to use it this soon. Um.”

“You have a speech for me being gay?”

“Not for you.” Steve rolled his eyes. “For--in general! It was an in general, just in case speech!” 

He rounded on Mike, for longer than the younger was comfortable with given Steve took his eyes off the road to do it. “Okay--you can like boobies, you can like, uh--not boobies, and that’s fine! It’s all totally fine!” 

“You are not making it sound like it’s fine.” Mike said, feeling like he’d been taken out by hearing Steve say the word “boobies.” 

Gross, gross, gross. 

“Well it is.” Steve said, in a tone that felt like he was two seconds from adding in a smarmy ‘so there!’ at the end. 

“But I’m dating El.” Mike whined, which really, was both the heart of the matter and the eye of the storm that had been growing in his head for months now. “I can’t be gay if I like her.” 

“Don’t you guys break up and get together like four times a week?”

“No, that's Max and Lucas, El and I are stable.” Mike scoffed. “Or we--we were stable.” 

Before he started to have thoughts about people that weren't his girlfriend. 

Or women.

“Stable for being in middle school, sure.” Steve snorted. “You don’t just have to like one or the other you know. You can like dudes and chicks at the same time.”

Which Mike did not know, on account of being fourteen. 

He did his absolute damndest not to show that realization, instead adding that to the list of reasons why he hated Steve Harrington too.

Steve shouldn't be the one teaching him about who you could like!

“The point is that who you end up loving isn’t a problem.” Steve finally looked back to the road. “Other people might be an issue, and those people we can punch in the face so long as the cops aren’t looking, which isn’t part of the speech so let’s not tell people I said that part, but whatever you do choose, there’s nothing wrong with you.” 

Steve’s voice went firm, as he apparently recalled his speech or something close enough to it because his next words sounded a little rehearsed. “You have people who are here for you, no matter what. Okay?” 

Oh God, Mike was crying again. 

He wanted to punch Steve in his stupid face.

Wanted to hold onto the fury he'd built inside himself. Thrash around, throw himself out of the car, get away from the emotions that felt too big for his chest to contain. 

Instead he felt it all break on Steve's acceptance. On word's he didn't know he needed to hear until they'd been spoken, and sniffed out a quiet; “Okay.” 

Steve of course had to take it too far by reaching over and patting his knee, which they both regretted judging by how quickly Steve took his hand back and the face Mike made at his hand--but it…

It was appreciated, even amongst all Mike's rage.

Steve was appreciated. 

Not that Mike would ever, on pain of death, tell him that. 

Neither said a word for a while, Steve finally landing on a radio that was playing some Top 40 hit, Tears for Fears singing about ruling the world while Mike found himself trying to rebuild his own once again, tired of it having shattered so many times over. 

At least he finally felt better, even if he refused to admit Steve was the reason for it. 

He wasn’t quite done though.

 There was a piece Steve had skipped over, that Mike felt was critically important, if only because it was partly the reason he was having thoughts about being gay in the first place. 

He had to know if Steve saw it too. 

That it wasn’t just him and his stupid head, making up things that weren’t there. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Yeah?”

“Who was the speech for?” 

Steve sighed. 

“Rule one of the whole queer thing Wheeler, you don’t out other people.” 

Like there were written rules or something.

(Maybe there were, it wasn't like Mike knew.)

“Was it Will?” Mike asked, and pretended like he didn’t desperately want the answer to be yes. 

 Steve didn’t say a thing, but the fact he nearly took the car off the road was a pretty solid answer in itself. 

“We’re not playing guessing games about other people’s sexualites!” He yelped, hands gripping the steering wheel as Mike felt a wave of relief crash through him. 

Will was--maybe, possibly, also--queer too. 

Which didn’t make this any better but it--wasn’t the not preferred outcome, either. 

(It wasn’t just Mike struggling alone, trying to figure out if his best friend wanted to be more than that, if El was breaking up with him and more and more because she wanted to be less than a girlfriend, if things were changing and he would have no one--) 

“I’m not out here picking Will up from a gay bar dipshit, I’m picking you up, and this is your reminder that next time, you should just come talk to me!” Steve ranted. 

Mike snorted.

He absolutely hated Steve Harrington, but--

“Fine.” He said, talking so low he could barely be heard. “I will.”

--maybe Mike did have someone in his corner after all. 

Even if it was just Steve. 

xXx

Bonus: 

“Between you and me, that kid is gayer than a two dollar bill.” 

“Wow Robin,” Steve teased, “Isn’t that like, a slur or whatever?” 

He snickered when she rolled her eyes and threw a roll of stickers his way. 

“I’m just saying. Did you see the way he was looking at you when you were showing off your stupid biceps?” Robin said, nudging her shoulder into Steve’s. “Will’s gonna have a rude awakening later if he hasn’t already.” 

Steve nudged her back, but kept his gaze on the Party as they trooped their way from Family Video to the arcade next door, the realization that they now had connections for free rentals making them downright gleeful. 

Will was the last one in, and Steve watched him hurry so as to not be left behind. 

He didn’t like to worry about the dipshits, but Robin was just putting voice to a thought Steve knew he wasn’t the first person to have.

And if he noticed it, then it didn't exactly bode well as being kept a secret. 

“Should we like…talk to him about that?” He asked after a long moment, turning to face Robin.

“Us?” She pointed at herself, before turning her finger on Steve. “Why us?” 

“Well you’re into girls.” He gave her a pointed look, glad that the store was empty of everyone but them so he could actually voice all this. “And I’m fine with it.”

“Yeah I’m sure he wants to know you’re fine with it.” Robin taunted, but she had her thinking face on, eyes out to the middle distance. “I barely know him. You barely know him--he’s the quietest out of all your kids.”

“They’re not my kids.” Steve argued automatically. “They're like a weird cross between shitty siblings and that kid in your class who never leaves you alone.” 

A fact Steve no longer took for granted, even if he made it sound like the worst thing ever.

“I just think it’d be nice if he knew that he had people in his corner, you know? Who supported him and shit.” 

“Steve, you compared my crush to a muppet, that wasn’t supportive.” Robin countered, but it too was on automatic. 

Softer she admitted; “You’re right though. If I had known other queer people, if I had known people would accept me...it would have made things a lot easier.”

A very long pause, in which both of them stewed for a moment, before Robin abruptly slapped her hand down on the table.

“Okay, you got me. We're doing it, and I'm making us a speech.”

“A speech?” 

“Yes dingus, a speech. I know you, you’re terrible when you’re put on the spot with this kinda thing, and trust me with things like this the moment will be spontaneous.”

“It’s Will, how spontaneous can it be?” Steve challenged back. “Getting a dinner order out of him is a chore.” 

“Stop whining and hand me that notepad. Im telling you its gonna happen when you least expect it and then you're gonna thank me later.”

“It better not happen without you.”  Steve sighed, but passed the notepad over.

God the things he did for those stupid kids. 

Bonus x2

Steve would later go on to use the speech on himself, in a gas station bathroom mirror, eyes wide and freaked out after Eddie Munson called him Big Boy in a van they stole, while Robin snickered behind him. 

He would turn on her, snapping that she; “Help me with this dammit!” 

In return she’d remind him that Tammy might sing like a muppet but Eddie  was the guy who stepped on lunches while giving speeches at lunch and sticking his tongue out, and “Really Steve, I think I won best gay awakening, here.” 

Which would promptly start an argument regarding how it wasn’t a competition, which would continue for another fifteen or so odd years before finding its way as a reference into both of their speeches as each other’s best man. 

Nancy and Eddie wouldn’t get it at either wedding, but Mike would.

[flaringgoosebumps]

[chirpsythismorning]

Remember when the the script for the end of s3 was posted and it originally gave us Mike's inner thoughts after El walked away in Will's room as being What is wrong with you, only for them to remove the script and then re-upload it, without that part...

[edelweiss-coffee]

summary: mike finds out the truth about will’s painting.

read on ao3

tw/cw: language, panic

a/n: this was hard to write. i don’t write inner monologue… ever. i felt like we deserved to see inside of mike’s mind. also, he’s a hopelessly romantic poet so just deal with that.

"what painting?"

"the painting of the party fighting dzalmus. the one you commissioned from will, for me. this one," he grunted, reaching to pull it out from underneath the couch, still rolled up and tied.

el took the rolled up paper and removed the string. she unfurled the glorious artwork and her eyes grew wide.

"this is pretty. the dragon is called dizz-allmus? what is commissioned? will painted this for you?"

mike's brain and muscles weren't communicating anymore. his legs shook, and his hands fluttered before he planted himself on the couch.

'you're the heart. and without heart, we'd all fall apart. even el. especially el.'

he skipped confusion and he skipped anger. he was distraught.

'so yeah, el needs you mike. and she always will.'

swallowing tears and unable to focus his vision, he cradled his head in his hands.

"what's wrong?"

mike picks his head up, running his hands through his hair and pursing his lips.

he was sure the world was on pause. what the fuck does she mean, 'what's wrong?'

he stands up, determined to get the answer he needs to hear.

tell me i'm the heart, like will said.

will said you need me. that's why i said i loved you.

"el, i need you to really think right now. like, think really hard. did you ask will to paint this for me?" he pleaded, pointing at the bright red, crowned heart on his coat of arms.

"i did not. it is very pretty, and i wish it was my idea to give you artwork as a gift. but i did not. why?"

mike thought this had to be some sort of prank.

this had to be a sick prank, a little wonder-twin fuckaround that he was on the unfortunate end of.

"okay, el, very funny. you guys got me," he slapped his knee and laughed sarcastically.

"i don't... understand. mike? what's the matter with the painting?"

mike's blood ran cold. he could feel his pulse in his eyes. he felt every semblance of peace leave his body, all at once.

el didn't need him.

she didn't need him now, and she didn't need him that day in the desert. she hadn't 'needed' him for a long time.

that should be fine, but mike is fucked up. he requires co-dependence. he needed el, because having a girlfriend made him feel 'normal'. he struggled with feeling normal, and she gave him a mask to wear for everyone.

she needed him, too, once upon a time. to help her navigate the world, to teach her things.

but not anymore.

mike didn't want to be with someone who didn't need him.

he also didn't know how to go about ending a relationship that was taking a backseat to the flurry of panic in the forefront of his mind.

mike's chest started to feel hot, like a match had been struck directly underneath his heart.

he felt like he would burn alive if he let the feeling sit stagnant a moment longer.

"okay listen, i'm sorry, el, i know you wanted to talk, but i have to go see will. like, right now. we can talk later, okay?" he shouted down the stairs, not looking back for a response.

"mike, i want to break up."

he stopped walking and looked at his feet. he couldn't bring himself to feel the way someone is supposed to feel when they're being dumped.

he didn't feel sad.

and he really didn't want to have this conversation right now.

"o-okay."

she shouted up the stairs, in a friendly tone:

"we can still be friends, right?"

"of course. we'll always be friends, el."

"i think we're better that way. go see will, mike. i'm gonna go visit max."

"o-okay. bye."

it was a lot easier than mike had imagined it being. he always thought that if he and el broke up, that she would hate him, think he was a monster, or be too hurt to want to be friends.

he figured that they both knew it was about time they ended things.

he also figured that he had a much bigger issue at hand here.

he ran into his bedroom, threw on a pair of socks and quickly wet his hair down in the bathroom, and bolted out the front door.

he was pretty sure he broke the time-space continuum. something shifted. no sooner than he put his feet on the pedals of his bike was he outside of hop's cabin, breathless, furious, heartbroken, and burning.

will needs me.

"will!"

he'd meant to ask for will, at the door, but his matchbox heart had other plans, and it was scorching his sternum the longer it took for him to see will.

will needs me, and he always will.

"will!" he shouted louder, barreling toward the door in desperation.

the door cracked open gently, and familiar hazel eyes met mike's.

will looked... afraid. nervous? confused?

mike saw a familiar glint in will's eyes and had to stop himself from getting distracted by it.

only then did mike take a moment to look himself over. his hair was a disheveled mess, his socks didn't match, and he could feel his knees shaking. his eyes flared and his chest felt like it would burst.

breathlessly, he pointed at will.

"you," he shakes. "and me, need to talk. now, please." he moved sporadically, pointing incessantly to emphasize.

"come inside, mike, you look like hell."

the sound of will's voice fed the fire inside of him, and he grabbed his own sleeve, to anchor himself. he closed his eyes slowly to regain his composure.

"no, don't say-- come out here. i want to talk to you out here."

"okay..." will trailed. his voice had a tinge of confusion and a touch of annoyance to it that stung mike.

will walked gently beside him. his tenderness and listening eyes made mike's throat tighten.

"over here," mike sighed, pointing at a tree stump in the clearing next to the cabin.

"mike, it's hot. don't you want to come inside? whatever you wanna talk about, we can do it inside."

"no, we can't. i think i'll throw up if anyone sees me like this. i'm a fucking mess."

mike sat down on the tree stump and cradled his head in his hands again. it was the only thing that was keeping his eyes from bursting out of their sockets, he was sure of it.

"what's going on with you right now? your eyes are bloodshot, you're all unsteady. did you sleep?"

will's needing voice, his kindness and concern, felt like being stabbed in the stomach.

"stop asking me questions right now, will. i really need to ask you something."

he could hear will's breath get caught in his throat, and he could hear him gulp.

"what is it?"

"why didn't el know about the painting, will?"

"m-maybe she just forgot--"

"she didn't forget. she had no idea what dzalmus was, couldn't even pronounce it," mike muttered, muffled by his shirtsleeve.

he looked up at will.

will's eyes were littered with tears, his cheeks pink, lips trembling.

"why wouldn't she know anything about the painting she commissioned, will? can you tell me that?"

"mike-"

"no, listen to this. she looked me in the face, will, and said, 'what is commissioned?'"

he paused, nearly laughing.

"she doesn't even know what that means, will. care to explain?"

he fixed his gaze on will, unfaltering.

tell me the truth. tell me you need me.

"no way out of this, huh? i just have to say it now," will gave.

"that's what i'm hoping for, yeah."

"mike, she didn't commission the painting. clearly."

"i gathered that, yeah."

please don't cry.

mike kicked leaves around, trying to avoid eye contact. no matter how angry he was, if that's what the emotion was even called-- he had never been able to bear will's tears.

seeing will cry triggered something in mike that he couldn't ever explain away. he wanted to protect will from anything that could ever hurt him. anything that could ever make him cry.

the way he was crying right now, because of mike.

he couldn't bring himself to look at him, and it tied his stomach in knots.

"you were talking about how you're not special in the van. you were talking about how you're just a random nerd, and i needed you to see how important you really are."

mike could hear his best friend crying, and it shot through him. it took all of his strength to pull his gaze from the grass back to will's face.

at the sight, mike's eyes welled up too. in that moment, all desire for 'normal' dissipated from his psyche.

"will, please don't cry-- i can't take it. i'm not angry at you. i'm just so confused that i feel like i'm gonna throw up. i just don't understand."

"the tears just happen, mike. there's just-- something else."

tell me you need me. tell me you were talking about yourself.

"what is it? what else?"

will's eyes burn a hole through him. it's always been like this. while everyone who knows mike has looked at him, will has seen him.

"i wasn't talking about el. in the van, i mean. i was talking about me. i need you. i'm different. you make me feel better for being different. i'm the one who would rather lose you quickly than feel like i'm losing you every time we speak," he sobbed.

you'll never lose me.

"and i'm a coward, because i couldn't say any of this to you without using el as a shield. you were ceaselessly throwing stones at yourself, and it hurt as if you were throwing them at me."

mike felt like his brain short-circuited. it was as if will reached into mike's chest and pulled the fire out himself.

he recalled being confused back in the van-- about will's certainty that el needed him, that she 'always would'. she didn't need him. he knew that, even then. but will had emboldened him, put that certainty in his head.

his breath wouldn't catch. it was like the entire town of hawkins sat atop his chest. he felt dizzy. nauseous. his mouth felt drier than it ever had before. he couldn't make eye contact, he couldn't take his focus off the trees ahead of him. he didn't want to move.

"i told el i loved her because of what you said to me that day. i told her that i loved her... because of everything you told me. i didn't even consider...."

he remembers the minute he saw the painting that day. he remembers that he instantly felt better. that he felt like he had will back. he felt like he had his best friend, who will always need him, back. he liked it that way.

but will insisted that it was about el. mike had to accept that, no matter how much he wanted it to be about will.

he wouldn't have overused 'i love you' so flippantly with el if will hadn't bolstered him, pushed him to her that way.

all of this miscommunication, all of this confusion, happened because will didn't feel comfortable being honest with him. he hated himself for becoming so unapproachable.

"will, i'm not mad. let me say that again, okay? i'm not mad."

he wasn't. he wasn't sure what the feeling was, but it didn't feel like anger.

"but can i just ask you something?"

"yeah, sure, of course, anything."

"why didn't you just tell me the truth? did i say something, ever... that made you feel like you can't tell me everything? we've always told each other everything."

he looked through will as cruel memories blossomed in his head.

'it's not my fault you don't like girls.'

"mike, you were in shambles over el. she was all you could talk about. whether or not she needed you. i didn't want to make it about me. you were worried."

mike felt his face burn up. he was sure he had a fever at this point. with an air of bravery and a half-breath, he spits:

"i wanted it to be about you. the painting, i mean. i wanted it to be about us. i wanted it to be special, from you."

he shot a look at will, to gauge his reaction to his half-confession. will's chest fell quickly, and he stifled a sob with his arm against his mouth.

"it was, mike. it was about us. it wasn't about el at all. i have no idea how she feels about you, or how she felt then. i lied to you. is that what you want to hear? i lied to you," he breathed, wiping his eyes with his shirt sleeve.

mike sat with this a moment. he should've been mad that will lied to him, but he wasn't. he wasn't at all.

he thought over how to explain his once conflicted feelings. how he was confused, and how he was so excited to have something so personal, so special, from will.

"mike, say something. i just wanted you to feel loved. i said what i said because i had to tell you, somehow-- how i felt, or i was going to explode, mike. i shouldn't have used her name, i know that. i didn't think it'd hurt anything, i'm sorry."

mike avoided will's eyes. he wasn't ready to be at the mercy of will's gaze just yet. he had to get this out of the way first.

"it felt like you were pushing me away from you. like, hard. shoving me in the other direction. i felt confused then, too. i don't know, i felt like nobody existed except for us and then you brought el back up, and i had to, like--"

their eyes met.

"i'm sorry. i just want you to be happy, mike. i thought you loved el. that's what you said. you said it, like, ten times."

"i said i loved her because i thought those feelings you talked about were hers. the feeling i got--when you explained it all--was like, definitely, love. i felt it, in my chest. in my head. everywhere. i just figured, i don't know. i just--took it at face value."

mike leaned forward with knitted brows, thinking over what just came out of his mouth. thinking about how will was going to take that. wondering if he'd pick up on it or not.

"so, what about now?"

will's eyes cut into mike so deeply that he felt like he'd topple over if he wasn't gripping the tree stump so hard.

"what do you mean?"

mike swallowed hard. he knew what will meant. will had picked up on it.

"now that you know it was about me," he turned to face mike head-on. "what feeling is it now?"

"definitely, love."

oh.

everything made sense to mike now.

he wanted to be with will.

no amount of shame could overpower the amount of love he felt in the moment. no sense of normalcy would ever feel better than finally pinpointing the reason will was so special to him.

definitely, love.

he was sure his eyes shone. he was sure that will could see in his face how sincerely and genuinely he loved him.

it was always will.

"you love me? c'mon, mike. that's not funny. can you be serious right now?"

mike laughed aloud.

"will, do i look like someone who showed up here to joke around with you? i'm half-dressed and probably have a fever. my hair is wet and all over the place--el broke up with me on my way out the door, and i basically took it in stride and came here as fast as possible."

"el broke up with you?"

"yeah, it doesn't matter, we're still friends. it's better that way."

a somber silence fell over the two of them, and mike took to breaking it.

"have you ever wondered why it feels like we're pulled to each other? like, seriously-- pulled to each other like, with the strongest magnetic force the world has ever witnessed?"

will froze. his lips quivered like he was scouring his brain for words that didn't exist.

please understand what i'm trying to say.

"y-yeah, i guess. something like that."

will smiled at mike for the first time all morning. warm and inviting, it honestly helped mike relax.

"i think it's 'cause we're supposed to be together. like, meant for each other. do you get what i'm saying?"

don't make me spell it out, i can't breathe.

will covers his eyes and stands up, pacing a bit.

"mike, i feel like i'm losing my mind right now."

mike's chest relaxed then.

"me too," mike bursts into laughter, and will joins him.

laughing with will feels like what being on drugs must feel like. mike is sure of it. the way the tears well up in both of their eyes at the same time, and how they always exhale in sync. it's heavenly.

"will, i love you. i really do."

will shuffled his feet with a smile, looking at the ground.

"are you... sure? do you mean that, mike? like, really mean it?"

"i mean it, will. i think we've both known for a long time, and we just didn't say anything, you know?"

will was silent. it scared mike. a lot.

"i just don't want to be afraid anymore, will. i don't wanna be normal. i don't wanna feel ashamed or scared about how i feel about you anymore. i just want to let you know. let everyone know."

his heart was leaping into his throat, but he used the adrenaline to commit to bravery.

he reached out for will's hand, and locked their fingers together.

"i wanna be with you, will."

will looked at their hands entwined and shot a glance up at mike. a smile broke across his face, and a tear slid down his cheek.

"i wanna be with you, too. i have for... a long time."

will's eyes seeped into mike's, and mike was sure he could write hundreds of poems about the colors in will's eyes alone.

blues and greens and grays grapple for the foreground.

thousands, if not more, about the rapidly alternating shades of will's cheeks as mike leaned closer to him.

lily-white flashes, shell-pink, aflush. blooming.

he was positive he'd find no words to do justice the absolute splendor and ecstasy of kissing the smile on will's face for the first time. he wouldn't dare try.

as he pulled away from the kiss, their very first kiss, he took will's shoulders in his hands.

"my words don't-- i can never say what i'm trying to say, so bear with me. do you wanna do this, will? do you want to be with me?"

mike felt like an eternity had ticked away by the time will opened his mouth, but he couldn't be sure.

say yes. say anything.

"a-absolutely. of course i do."

@i-relate-to-fruity-pebbles, @crazy4will, @paladin-n-cleric :-)

[royalarchivist]

Fit: [In the animatic] Did I steal anything else before I have to go to work?

Phil: [Snorts as he realizes what conversation this was]

Fit: [In the animatic] Did I steal else from you?

Phil: [In the animatic] Just my heart.

Phil: [Laughs]

Cucurucho: Hahaha.

Mike: WTF FIT?! I'm gonna tell Pac, bro!

Cucurucho: Hahaha.

[chronicfandombrain]

Do you ever look at Mike Wheeler and wonder: what is going on inside his head?

Part 2