Archive of Our Own

Will feels like he’s actually going crazy.

Okay, yeah, maybe that’s kind of an overdramatic way to start. He admits that.

They celebrated their high school graduation three months ago, finally letting go of everything related to school—studying (at least for exams, thanks to Dustin, which made Will and Mike seriously grateful they managed to pass without ending up at the very bottom), and they kinda owe him for that. So the day after graduation, they agreed to get Dustin a rare lizard to keep, considering how a few years ago Dart, who ended up turning into a terrifying demodog, completely failed as a pet—along with all the bad memories that followed them for years because of the Upside Down and Vecna.

But still, for some reason, to Will—three months feels like three years instead.

It’s not that Will hates change or anything. If anything, he’s actually really grateful the Party can finally catch up on everything they didn’t get to do while dealing with Vecna, basically destroying the Upside Down, to be cool—saving the world, and he’s not going to go into all the details, but one thing that sticks with him the most is the change in his relationship with his best friend, Mike Wheeler.

Their relationship has gotten better, really close, or maybe too close that people have started calling them an inseparable couple, which obviously just gives the Party more reason to tease them, because… how could they not? Or maybe Will is just being a little too confident, or reading too much into it, but Mike Wheeler has definitely gotten way more clingy with him. And Will isn’t stupid enough to pretend the Party is completely wrong either. Honestly? Yes, they’re not.

If he’s being real, he doesn’t even mind it. The teasing about him and Mike being all “hopelessly in love” kinda makes it feel real—like they actually are a couple, like they really do love each other.

And why wouldn’t he think that, right? It makes him happy.

Because even right now, as Will gets lost in his own thoughts, his body comfortably resting against Mike’s bed, his fingers absentmindedly sketching long lines that slowly form a very familiar silhouette—the face of his best friend, Mike Wheeler—while Mike himself is literally lying there with his head resting on Will’s thighs, laughing way too loud at the comic he’s been completely focused on.

Back to an hour ago: Will had actually planned to just spend the rest of his night in his room, chilling, finishing a few of his unfinished drawings, and most of them, obviously, were of Mike, from pretty much every angle possible. At this point, Will doesn’t even need Mike to be there as a model anymore, because he has spent so many years just… looking at him, admiring him as his ‘not so muse’, paying attention to every little detail (almost since kindergarten), that he could probably draw him from memory with his eyes closed. Every line, every curve of Mike’s features—his beloved Mike.

And then his phone rings.

Not even a normal call either, more like whining straight into his ear before Will even has the chance to say “hi,” telling him to come over to his house because there is something “important” they have to do.

And because Will is Will—because he is too kind and cares, he doesn’t want Mike to be sad or disappointed, so he ends up giving in anyway, grabbing his bike and heading over as fast as he can.

When he gets there, the house is empty. The Wheeler's have gone to church (which, honestly, is kinda surprising) and didn’t even bother bringing their second poor child with them.

And then there is Mike, who immediately grabs his hand, drags him upstairs, straight into his room, tells him to sit comfortably and stretch his legs out.

Which leads to this.

To now.

To Will on Mike’s bed with his legs stretched out, Mike treating it as the most normal thing in the world, using Will’s thighs as a pillow. And yeah, Will’s legs are definitely tingling at this point—probably numb or completely dead. But no, he doesn’t even care.

Because if it means Mike gets to stay like this, being comfortable, happy, laughing at his stupid comic—then of course, Will would probably let his legs go numb all night.

“Will? Hey, earth to Willll, what’re you thinking about? Why are you looking at me like that?”

The sound of Mike’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and Will flinches a little, his thighs twitching under him. Mike lifts his head slightly, and that just makes everything worse because now Will is suddenly very aware of how dead his legs feel.

“Huh? What?”

“What’s on your mind, Willll?” Mike repeats, squinting at him, scanning his face as if deciphering every single expression, trying to get inside his head, and Will is pretty sure he’s starting to blush now.

Will tries to stay calm. There’s no way he can just say it out loud that he’s been thinking about Mike being clingy with him, about them as a couple, or the fact that he’d sacrifice his own comfort just to keep Mike right where he is. So instead, he settles for something safer.

He flicks his finger lightly against Mike’s forehead—not hard, barely even enough to hurt, but more than enough to distract him.

Mike immediately reacts like he’s been personally attacked. “Ah, that hurts, Will! Why would you hurt me? My forehead is definitely bleeding,” he whines loudly, already clutching his forehead like it’s some kind of serious injury, going full dramatic mode just to make Will feel bad.

Will rolls his eyes, already used to this, but still, he can’t help it. Mike is annoyingly cute. Everything he does is annoyingly cute to him. “Sorry, I don’t think it hurts that much, Michael.”

“It does! You’re so mean to me,” Mike pouts, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “My forehead is definitely scratched, I can feel it, William. My precious forehead.”

“Really? Then you can flick mine too, so we’re cool.”

One-zero. This is exactly why it’s not fair. Will knows Mike won’t do it. That boy never would. If anything, Mike would rather take the hit himself than do anything that might hurt Will.

So Mike just shakes his head, as if that’s the dumbest suggestion he’s ever heard, before reaching for Will’s hand. The movement makes Will’s sketchbook slip down onto his stomach as Mike gently pulls his hand up, guiding it toward his own forehead and then just...leaving it there.

“You’re so clueless, Will Byers.”

Will’s heart starts racing, way too fast, and he just hopes Mike doesn’t notice the way his cheeks are getting warmer by the second. Or worse, the way his fingers, still resting against Mike’s forehead, probably feel warmer too because of how his body temperature just spikes for no reason.

That would be… really weird.

“I don’t get it, Mike.” He’s not lying, or maybe he just doesn’t want to assume too much again.

Maybe Mike just wants him to keep his hand there, to rub his forehead so the fake pain goes away, replaced by something warmer, softer… but again, Will doesn’t want to—

“You have to take responsibility, dude. I know you get it. Just do whatever your heart tells you to.”

Mike cuts him off with that small smile, settling back down, treating it as if nothing had happened. He rests his head on Will’s thighs again, acting for all the world as though this were normal, completely oblivious to how Will’s legs are still tingling like crazy.

“C’mon, I still have more than fifteen pages left.”

Whatever your heart tells you to?

So that means Mike does want his fingers there, on his forehead, gently brushing over it like he’s some kind of kid? Jesus Christ, Will is actually losing it.

This is exactly what he meant earlier. The way Mike has been acting lately—getting more and more shameless without even realizing it. It’s confusing. It’s messing with him. Blurring the line between best friend and… something else entirely. Something definitely not casual. Something that probably crossed the line a long time ago. But sadly, Will isn’t going to refuse.

So his fingers start moving slowly, carefully brushing over Mike’s forehead in soft strokes, even though he’s pretty sure it doesn’t hurt at all anymore. He watches as Mike shifts slightly on his lap, visibly relaxing, eyes falling shut as if sinking into the sensation, as though he’s savoring every little touch from Will.

His comic completely forgotten, just abandoned there. Will’s touch is way more enjoyable to him. Same with Will’s sketchbook, which has honestly been almost finished—featuring the outline of Mike lying exactly in this position, sprawled across his lap. He’d finish the sketch later, once he finally returned to the solitude of his own room.

“Like this?” Will asks quietly.

Mike nods, eyes still perfectly closed. “Yeah. Like that. Jesus, you’re really good.”

Will smiles a little.

This right here is definitely going to become one of those memories. The kind he’ll replay in his head before falling asleep over and over again. That soft, warm feeling settling deep in his chest. This domestic type of them together—like the world is only about them, about Mike and Will.

Will glances over at the clock on Mike’s desk—the same desk that used to be filled with school books, now replaced with DnD drafts Mike’s been working on, and stacks of scripts he hasn’t shown Will yet because he’s still not confident enough. Even though Will knows. Mike’s good. He’s really good.

One day, he’s going to be one of the really amazing writers. One day he’ll publish, get his name out there, even people inside Hawkins will notice. People will know who Mike Wheeler is. Ted will be very proud of him. People will love and adore him like Will does.

They’ve been still for twenty minutes. Just sitting there, each in their own comfy zone, not moving. Will’s fingers still tangled in Mike’s hair, playing with Mike's beautiful curls.

Will can feel that Mike is completely relaxed, his head so soft against Will’s thigh, and Will’s just watching, thinking, feeling way too many things at once. He shouldn’t be thinking this much. But he can’t help it.

And then he realizes—maybe this is just what it’s like. Just being comfortable around each other like a safe place and nothing else matters. His hand on Mike’s forehead, Mike’s curls under his fingers, the tiny laugh escaping when Mike shifts a little, eyes still closed. Everything feels so… so… like home.

Will can’t even think straight anymore, and he’s not even mad about it.

“Will?”

“Yeah, Mike? What’s wrong?”

“Uh.. You remember when you moved to California with your family and El? Me and the rest of our Party were stuck in Hawkins.”

Will nods immediately. Of course he remembers.

That time wasn’t… great. Probably one of the worst, actually. Being away from everyone, from Mike who, at the time, had been the main reason Will felt so miserable, when Mike was the one who kept hurting him back then.

No letters. No calls. Awkward hug. And the painting.

So Will’s a little confused why Mike is bringing it up now.

Is he going to talk about the letters? About how weird things got between them? Or about the painting? Well, at least for that, they already cleared things up because El had said she never commissioned the painting when they both broke up at the Squawk, which basically made it obvious to Mike that the painting was from Will.

His thoughts start spiraling, filling with worst-case scenarios.

As if Mike can read his mind, he finally keeps going but with a hint of hesitation this time. “We played this game back then, just to kill time. Truth or dare but like the extreme version. This was all Max’s stupid idea. So no backing out, no chickening out, or you’d get made fun of forever, for the rest of your life, and I’m obviously not a coward, because I’m not, and—”

“Mike,” Will laughs softly, cutting him off before he goes on a full rant. “I know you’re not. So what about the game?”

Mike huffs lightly, trying to relax again. “Okay, yeah. So we played for a while, it was actually really fun. We laughed a lot and found out some pretty gross secrets too. Honestly, kinda horrifying. Especially whatever Lucas was hiding under his bed—”

“Wait, what was he hiding?” Will cuts in immediately, curiosity getting the better of him.

Mike squints at him, projecting an air of playful defiance, clearly having no intention of actually telling him. “Penalty. You weren’t there, baby. You’ll find out next time we play. Round two and of course with you. It’ll be more fun. I’ll get to learn more about you too and I’m pretty sure it won’t be as disgusting as ours.”

Will’s chest tightens.

Baby.

He definitely didn’t imagine that, right?

Does Mike even realize he said that?

But then again, Will knows Mike’s always like this. Tends to just say many things without thinking, way too straightforward. So Will ends up overthinking everything; it really messes with him sometimes. But still, if Mike didn’t mean it, Will kind of wants to flick his forehead again. Harder this time so it would hurt a little.

“Uh, okay, I’m getting off track. Sorry. Anyway,” Mike continues, his tone shifting, turning more serious now. Will is kind of grateful for that, because Mike’s too focused to notice how red his face probably is again. “It’s getting late, and you need to sleep more, and my family’s gonna be back soon, so I’ll keep it short.”

Will just nods, his eyes drifting—unfairly—to Mike’s lips. He has to admit his best friend's lips look really kissable.

And God, he wants to.

Just once.

He wonders what would happen if he just did it. If Will were brave enough to make the move and kiss him, would Mike freeze? Would he go quiet, his gorgeous face turning that same adorable, apple-red shade that Will feels creeping up his own cheeks right now?

Maybe someday. If they ever actually become what the Party keeps joking about. The cute couple that never was.

“Anyway, there was this moment where I picked truth, and.. I.. uh… refused to answer Max’s question.”

Refused?

What kind of question makes Mike refuse?

“I’m not gonna go into detail and not because I don’t trust you, Will! I always trust you, you’re literally the first person I’d tell anything to, even the worst stuff, but I just… I don’t wanna bring it up right now.” His voice drops a little. His fingers fidget together, restless.

“Hey, it’s okay, Mike. I get it. You don’t have to force yourself with me, remember?” Will says gently, trying to ease whatever’s going on in Mike’s head and thankfully, it works. Mike’s gaze, which had been wandering everywhere, settles back on him. “So then Max gave you a punishment?”

Mike nods, trying to settle himself again. “Yeah. That asshole. I should’ve known she was targeting me from the start with something crazy.”

Will laughs softly, fingers still playing with Mike’s curls. Honestly, he could stay like this forever. He’s not even joking. “What was it? Drunk at the bar? Driving without a license around Hawkins? Swimming in Lover’s Lake at dawn until you get sick? Or… uh, kissing El in front of everyone when we all meet again?”

Please don’t let it be that last one. Will might actually die on the spot.

Mike lets out a ridiculous laugh, as though Will had just uttered something nonsensical, which only makes Will huff. “Jesus, Will, you’re too kind—I mean it, you’re just too precious for this hell world, you know?” He pauses, eyes dancing with amusement. “But no. All wrong. Especially the kissing part. I’m not kissing El in front of you when we meet again, and it’s not happening either, right? She’s gone now.” His tone is firm, leaving no room for doubt that such a thing would never cross his mind.

He’s making sure that Will really gets it, and strangely, that simple assurance acts like a balm, calming Will instantly. It triggers a strange, fluttering sensation in his chest, a sudden, grounding warmth, that finally leaves him feeling… safe.

“Oh. Uh… okay. Yeah, sorry, that’s so dumb. Thanks, I guess? For thinking about me,” Will replies, honestly not sure how he’s supposed to react. There’s no way he can let that smile slip, right?

“Yeah.. I mean no! You don’t have to, no need. It’s kind of a habit for me to think about you,” Mike says, then suddenly freezes, eyes widening slightly as he realizes what he just said. “No, I mean, I mean like… it’d be uncomfortable to kiss in front of people anyway, like some kind of stupid free show.”

He rushes the rest out, scrambling to undo the confusion. Visibly concerned that Will might take it the wrong way.

“Mike, I think about you a lot too. Especially when I was in the Upside Down. You were the one who kept pulling me out of the darkness, remember? And yeah, your reason makes sense.”

Mike goes quiet for a second. Then he smiles. Nods.

Will’s right. They always find their way back to each other, no matter what.

“Okay, sorry. Back to the point. Where was I—oh.” Mike snaps his fingers lightly. “Right. So I refused, and Max gave me something kind of crazy.”

Will nods, focusing now, trying to figure out just how crazy it actually was.

Part of him wants to just ask Max directly, but of course, he won’t. He respects Mike too much for that. He’ll wait until Mike’s ready as he always does, much in the same way he’s left the stack of Mike’s scripts sitting, untouched, on his desk.

“Max told me to get piercings. On both my nipples. And my stomach. Once we graduate.” Mike says it rough and way too fast; it almost sounds like he’s just mumbling to himself.

But he’s not. Will hears it very clearly. And fuck, it completely shakes Will’s entire world.

His thoughts about Mike’s body, his imagination in his head, his worst-wildest-most out of control thoughts, his imagination of his best best friend—everything just crashes all at once. His brain and his heart just short-circuit at the same time. Everything just stops working.

His whole body goes stiff, his fingers that were resting so comfortably in Mike’s curls suddenly freezing in place, and Mike immediately picks up on it. Shifting a little, restless, because he knows he just messed up. He really did.

Right as Mike says that, the sound of the front door echoes through the house. The rest of his family comes back home, and Will is still there on Mike’s bed, still touching the Wheeler family’s son, still stuck replaying those quiet, rushed words in his head, over and over again.

Holy shit, Mike Wheeler is going to get piercings on both his nipples and his stomach!

His thoughts spiral, his body reacting before he can even stop it. Everything in him spikes all at once and Mike shivers slightly, suddenly aware of something, noticing something pop out behind his head.

“W-Will, uh, a-are you hard? I mean the spot where I’m leaning feels kinda… raised,” he asks, hesitant, almost shy, and that stupid soft puppy look on his face just makes Will feel even hotter.

Mike Wheeler is exactly why those three months feel like three years.

Will is actually going crazy because of him.

The clock on the desk keeps ticking over and over, and Will is in a seriously miserable state right now. He feels like a statue that just got struck by lightning and completely frozen. Can’t move, can’t even think a single inch either.

Instead, something else shifts on his thighs.

Mike moves his head a little, adjusting his position so it doesn’t press right against the middle of Will’s thigh, which from the corner of his eye, Will already knows, there’s definitely something raised and he might actually die from embarrassment alone, from the heat trapped in the night air of his best best friend’s stupid bedroom.

“Will? Hey, you okay?” Mike’s voice is thick with hesitation, questioning whether Will is still anchored to the room or has already retreated into the quiet recesses of his own mind.

Will’s brain is basically screaming at him to do something. Anything. At least fix whatever the hell is going on with his body right now. Move his legs from there or push Mike away and get him off his thighs that have been numb for way too long, then jump out the window, because he should’ve left the second he heard the Wheeler family car pulling into the driveway. But of course, his stupid body doesn’t listen.

Because Mike is still there, laying pretty and comfortable. Still leaning against him, not showing any sign of pulling away, even though he is the one who said Will needed more sleep and his family would be back soon—(which they already are, and literally inside the house now)—Will should’ve gone home.

“I, uh, sorry,” Will blurts out, his fingers instinctively pulling away from Mike’s curls like he just got burned.

Mike looks straight into his widened eyes, his expression confused, a little flushed, but there’s something else there too.

Sad?

Or… disappointed?

His eyes search Will’s face like he’s trying to understand something that Will himself doesn’t even get.

Mike’s the one talking about getting piercings but somehow Will’s the one acting completely weird and messed up. So this is definitely very stupid.

“Uh… yeah? For what?” Mike probably thinks he’s actually losing it, brows pulling together slightly. “I.. I know this sounds stupid, Will. I should probably be the one apologizing for not telling you earlier, but when I think about it, there’s nothing wrong with trying, right? I mean, I want to. It sounds kinda cool, like trying something new. It kinda reminds me of Eddie too. Maybe I’ll end up hating it later and think it’s stupid of me, but I still wanna try, and—”

He cuts himself off, trying to steady his breathing that’s starting to get uneven. “And I wanna know what you think too. Like… would you be okay with it? If I actually get them in my body?”

Will opens his lips.

Then closes them again.

What is he even supposed to say?

Mike keeps talking, his words getting more and more tangled, and it just makes Will’s head spin even more.

Sorry for thinking about your body? Sorry for almost losing my mind over something this stupid? Sorry because if you actually get them in your body you’re going to look so fucking hot?

Or sorry for getting hard?

Out of everything he could possibly say or do, Will ends up doing what he always does, playing it safe. “Yeah, Mike,” he says finally, looking literally anywhere but at him. “I mean… it’s your body. You can do whatever you want with it.”

At least his voice doesn’t sound completely off, though he can hear it himself, it’s slightly higher than usual, almost cracking. “Maybe I, uh, I should probably go home now. Your family’s here. We can talk about this later.” Then he forces a smile, one that Mike can definitely tell is very fake.

But instead of moving away, again, Mike doesn’t budge at all. His eyes stay locked on Will’s. “Will, you’ve been acting weird ever since I mentioned that stupid piercing.”

Will lets out a quiet breath, forcing his shoulders to lift as if he were genuinely relaxed. He knows this conversation is destined to be far longer and more complicated than it has any right to be.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not, Mike.”

“You are, Will,” Mike huffs, clearly annoyed. “Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.”

He shifts slightly, sitting up just enough for the warmth to disappear from Will’s thighs and that shouldn’t feel like a loss, but it does. “You’ve been looking at me like I’m some kind of meat. I thought you were about to eat me alive.”

Will’s heart drops.

What?

Is Mike going crazy too now?

How can he just say something like that so casually?

“Huh? What? It’s because I got hard?” Will blurts out and it’s Mike’s turn to freeze. His eyes go wide and it’s honestly kinda cute—like a startled puppy who just got caught off guard in the worst way possible.

Mike immediately shifts away but not far, not really giving Will space to escape or anything, but enough to sit beside him instead, back against the headboard, still close to him, the distance between them barely anything at all.

“Fuck, w-why did you—” Mike stumbles, clearly flustered, his fingers fidgeting and tangling nervously. “I mean, did the piercing thing make you uncomfortable? ’Cause, yeah, Max probably should’ve just said it was a prank so I didn’t have to act all brave or let them make fun of me until I’m, like, socially dead or whatever, maybe buried next to my parents—”

He keeps rambling, words stumbling out in a disorganized rush, betraying his frantic need to fix something he doesn’t yet fully understand.

Will lets out a small breath and almost a laugh, quiet, a little disbelieving. “Stop, you’re being dramatic, Mike.” Will mutters, trying to brush it off, trying to make it lighter than it feels.

Mike huffs a little, still tense. “No, dude, I’m deadly serious.”

“I just,” Will says, then pauses, swallowing before continuing, a little embarrassed now, “I haven’t… you know. Masturbated. In a while.”

That alone already feels like too much. But he keeps going anyway, because apparently today is the day he completely loses all sense of self-control.

“I.. I don’t know why, uh,” he adds, but more quietly this time, almost like a whisper—but he knows that no matter how soft his voice gets, Mike’s still gonna catch it, “Hearing you talk about it just… kinda gets me thinking about how it’d look on you, like I could just picture you in my head.”

Silence drops between them immediately.

Mike doesn’t say anything right away.

Will can feel every second stretching, every thought getting louder, every bit of embarrassment crawling up his skin like it’s trying to kill him on the spot.

He risks a glance and Mike’s still staring at him.

“Oh… Oh.” Mike winces slightly. “Shit, sorry, I mean, yeah.. yeah. That makes sense.” Then his eyes flick to the side, sneaking a glance at Will, a little shy. “Then you like it?”

“What?”

“The idea of me getting it,” Mike continues, a bit steadier but more careful now. “I mean… you said you were thinking about it on me, right?” then gesturing vaguely toward his chest and stomach.

“No, Mike, I mean not that—”

“Oh, so it is stupid,” Mike cuts in softly, already jumping to his own conclusion, turning his face away, eyes dropping to his own fingers. “Definitely you think it’s stupid and ugly.” His voice dips slightly, catching that hint of panic from Will. “Yeah, I probably won’t even do it anyway. Max was just messing with me.”

Something twists in Will’s chest at that. For some reason, he doesn’t like the idea of it just being a joke either.

“No, it’s not that stupid or ugly, Mike,” Will says before he can stop himself, not wanting that boy to spiral into the wrong conclusion.

Mike immediately looks back again, something lighting up in his eyes, a small spark of something hopeful. “What?”

“I’m just saying,” Will adds, softer now, seemingly unsure of why he’s even defending it, “Again, it’s your body. You can do whatever you want with it, Mike.”

Mike blinks at him. “So you’re really okay with it, Will? You think it would look good on me? Not stupid? Not ugly?”

And Jesus Christ—stop that question.

Will shrugs, trying to play it off, even though his heart is still doing something completely ridiculous in his chest. “Yeah. I mean… you always look good, right?”

Mike doesn’t answer right away. He keeps his gaze fixed on Will, searching for the truths Will is holding back—a silent demand that makes Will’s stomach twist.

“You know I always care about what you think, Will,” Mike says. It’s so obvious.

Will lets out a small, shaky breath, tired of how his feelings keep spilling over even when he knows Mike doesn’t mean it like that. “You say stuff like that and then act like it doesn’t mean anything.”

Mike frowns immediately. “Huh?”

“You just—” Will stops, shaking his head, already regretting it. “Sorry, just forget it, Mike.”

“No. Don’t do that, man,” Mike cuts in quickly, shifting so he’s fully facing Will now. The sudden movement makes the space between them feel way too small, too close. “You always do that. You start saying something and then you just stop.”

Will presses his lips together. “I’m not,” he mutters, but it sounds weaker this time, not convincing at all. He doesn’t even know where to look, because Mike’s dark eyes feel like they’re locked right onto him.

Mike exhales, running a hand through his hair in frustration, ruining the curls Will had been fixing for hours. “Will—” Footsteps from downstairs cut him off. Nancy’s voice echoes faintly, probably yelling at their dad again for saying something ridiculous.

Mike glances toward the door, then back at Will, his expression wavering as he decides whether to let it go. “Okay, maybe you’ve been acting weird lately, not just now. Like, probably for a while since graduation.”

Will stiffens slightly. “That’s not true—”

“It is,” Mike cuts in. “Sometimes you pull away when I get close to you, like I’m some kind of bacteria. But on random days, you look at me like you’re about to eat me and then you just don’t.”

Will doesn’t know what to do with that.

Because how is he supposed to say,

I don’t know how to be around you anymore without wanting more than just being your best friend.

So instead he deflects like always.

“You’re overthinking, Mike,” Will says, forcing a small smile that doesn’t really reach his eyes. “What do you even want me to do?”

Mike just stares at him. “William.”

“Michael.”

Then Mike sighs, shoulders dropping slightly as if he’s giving up. “Okay fine,” he mutters, leaning back on his hands again, as though he’s done trying to push for answers. “If that’s what you’re going with, fine.”

The tension doesn’t leave; it just stays hanging between them. Will shifts a little, trying to ignore the numbness in his legs, the tight feeling in his chest, the way everything just feels off.

He hates this.

Hates how easy things used to be.

Hates how complicated everything feels now.

Frustration starts building up in him too. He feels cornered and stupid for still not being able to just be honest. It leaves both him and Mike confused.

His thoughts spiral again, too loud and messy, a frantic, tangled web of threads. He doesn’t even realize he’s biting his lip until it hurts. After a moment, Mike glances at him again, softer this time. “I really wanna know whatever you think, Will. I really do.”

There’s something in his voice; it feels like Mike is actually waiting for Will.

And if that’s what Mike has wanted all along—since he and El broke up, since the whole thing with the painting, since whatever the hell these past three months have been, where everything between them started feeling like it crossed some invisible line—

Then maybe Will is going to give it to him. Maybe he’ll try for Mike. Even if it’s going to ruin everything about them.

“Do you really want me to be honest, Mike?”

Mike nods quickly, eyes snapping back to Will like he’s scared to miss anything. “Yeah, Will. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

This time, Will doesn’t look away. His green eyes meet Mike’s darker ones. “You’re right, Mike, I got hard because of you. Because of that stupidly hot piercing on you.”

Mike’s eyes flicker, his throat bobbing as he starts to panic. He must be freaked out. He probably thinks Will is disgusting. Even though Will had already come out after everything with Vecna, they’ve never actually talked about it—so he has no idea how Mike really feels.

If someone straight hears a gay person say, “hey, so you’re right, I got hard because of you,” especially someone close to them, of course they’d freak out.

This is it, Will thinks. The end of his friendship with his best friend, Mike Wheeler. He’ll have to live with this embarrassment forever until his death.

“Mike, sorry, I just—”

“Wait—so you imagined that piercing on me and it made you hard?”

Will really wants to reach him, to grab Mike’s hands that won’t stay still, to calm him down. But he knows Mike is like this because of his words, so he holds himself back—trying to make Mike feel comfortable again, even if it kills him. Maybe this is the last thing he can do to make up for the guilt sitting heavy in his chest because of the horrible way he’s been thinking about his best friend. “I… I think you’d look really good with it, Mike. Like… really good. That’s probably the most honest thing I’ve said to you today.”

“R-really?” Mike asks, almost whispering, his eyes locked onto Will’s—scouring for any sign of a lie, for any indication that Will is just saying it to make him feel better. But he isn’t. Will loves everything about Mike.

He’s always known Mike is insecure about his body—getting bullied, his posture, his face, all of it. And every time Mike catches him drawing, he lights up, thanking Will like he’s done something amazing just by making him look so beautiful. So tonight, technically early morning—

Will decides to just let it all out. Everything good he sees in Mike, from his own point of view.

“Yeah, Mike. D-do you want me to show you?” Will asks, not expecting Mike to nod that fast.

Mike is the first to reach for him, taking Will’s hand and placing it back on top of his head, letting him touch his slightly messy curls. He sits there all sweet, legs tucked behind him—like some obedient little puppy that just wants attention. “I-I wanna know everything you think about me, Will. Can you… show me?”

Will’s heart is beating way too fast, and he definitely isn’t expecting this. The worst-case scenario—Mike staring at him with disgust, or telling him to leave, ending everything—doesn’t happen. Instead, Mike is looking at him with that soft, needy expression… a gaze capable of making him hard all over again. This is insane. This has to be a dream, Will thinks.

“You want me to touch you, Mike? You’d let me? Because I like everything about you. Your mind, your soul, your body, I like every part of you.”

“Won’t believe if you just say it, Will,” Mike says quietly, enjoying the way Will’s fingers move through his hair. “You’re talking like I’m… actually worth something.”

“You are, idiot,” Will says, more firm this time, serious enough to make Mike flinch a little. “Do you think I’d stick around if you weren’t? You deserve good things, Mike. All of them. Just like you think I do.”

“Then prove it. Kiss me, Will. Show me every part of me that you think is worth something.”

Mike’s eyes shine with the brilliance of moonlight, so pretty it makes Will not hesitate for even a second. He pulls Mike by the waist, drawing him back onto his lap, finally feeling Mike’s slightly dry, chapped lips against his own.

Mike’s lips taste like caramel popcorn, ridiculously sweet, probably from the snacks they had earlier. Mike lets out a soft whine in between kisses when he feels his bottom lip getting gently bitten so Will’s tongue can slip inside, their saliva mixing—soft wet erotic sounds filling the room, sending sparks all the way down his spine.

“Your lips are so tempting, Mike, it’s adorably red… makes me wanna kiss you so bad. Every time your tongue wets them, I just wanna kiss you even more. Begging to let me be your lip balm since you’re too lazy to take care of them,” Will murmurs, brushing his tongue along Mike’s teeth. “Your teeth are so neat… I keep imagining them around my cock—how you’d try to stay still while it fills your whole tiny mouth, shutting you up completely like a puppy getting his favorite treat.”

Mike whines, saliva slipping from the corner of his lips, his hand reaching up into Will’s hair, gripping it as he starts running out of breath, flushed from how dirty Will’s words are. “Your face is perfect… the most beautiful thing God ever gave me to look at. I could stare at you forever,” Will continues softly, smiling, before noticing Mike struggling to breathe.

He pulls back slightly, then moves to kiss every part of Mike’s face. “Your breathtaking lips,” one kiss. “Your pretty cheeks,” kissing both sides. “Your sharp nose—are you Apollo’s favorite or something, Mike?” then he presses a kiss to the tip, making Mike squirm. “And your gorgeous forehead… perfect for me to kiss every night before you sleep, and every morning when you wake up,” he lingers there a little longer—trying to prove he loves every single part of Mike.

“Your hair is so beautiful… I’ve always been jealous of Nancy and Holly, you know? Every time I come over and see them brushing your hair, styling it, braiding it… I’ve always wanted to do that too,” Will says, pecking into his hair until Mike lets out a small chuckle, enjoying every soft, gentle touch from Will.

“You’re always complaining about the freckles on your face,” Will whispers, “but I’ve always wanted to frame them. You’re beautiful, Mike. They make you very gorgeous.” And then starts peppering little kisses over every single one of them.

“Ah! That tickles,” Mike laughs softly, “then… then what else, Will?” Mike asks, looking at him with flushed cheeks, slightly damp from all the kisses. “What else… about me is… worth something?” Somehow it’s not enough to believe.

“Your ears… and your long damn neck,” Will replies, voice rougher now, before quickly licking along Mike’s ear, making it redden instantly. “They make me wanna bite them so bad.”

Will grips Mike’s waist, moving his hand up and down while his teeth start tugging at his earlobe, then trailing down to his neck—leaving dark red bruises without hesitation on his pale skin. Mike gasps, lets out a high-pitched moan, the sting mixing with a shiver from a sensation he’s never felt before. Weirdly, he finds himself liking the way it hurts.

Slowly, Will’s tongue moves down to Mike’s collarbone, licking and biting until Mike grabs at his hair from the overwhelming feeling, whining softly. “W-Will… ah, m-my lower body hurts…” he mumbles, unconsciously grinding his hips forward and back—making Will groan when their bodies brush against each other.

Will grips Mike’s waist even tighter, pinning him still. He delivers a sharp, punishing bite to Mike’s collarbone, making the boy let out a startled cry. “I’m not done showing you all the parts of you that matter. You’re being bratty, baby. You still have to listen to me.”

Mike whimpers, holding back tears as he looks at Will with glassy eyes. “W-what else about me is even worth anything? I’m too tall, just lanky… not attractive like other girls or boys—argh, Will!”

Another bite lands—this time, Mike feels it on his nipple. Mike gasps sharply, heat rushing through his whole body under Will’s intense gaze. “The piercing would make your pretty red peaks shine even more, baby. If you wore something tight, they’d poke through and make you look even sexier,” Will mutters, licking over it skillfully until Mike bites his swollen lip to hold back his moans.

One of Will’s hands plays with the other untouched nipple, pinching it lightly until Mike jolts, trying desperately to move his hips even though Will’s grip is still holding him in place. “I-I’ll get.. ah.. that piercing if you say I’d look s-sexy, shit—” Mike pants, breathless and flustered, his hand slipping under Will’s shirt, tracing over his stomach until it reaches Will’s nipple too—trying to copy what he’s doing to him. “Y-you’ll be the first one.. ah.. to see it on me, Will.”

Will smiles against his skin, then suddenly pushes Mike down onto the bed, making him fall flat, shirt half-lifted, completely exposed—completely tempting, waiting desperately to be ruined. “You’re so pretty, Mike… can you be pretty just for me?”

Mike looks up at him, flushed, sweat trailing from his forehead onto the pillow, craving more of Will’s touch on him. “I’m pretty because of you, Will…”

Will leans down over him again, carefully bracing his hands on either side of Mike so he doesn’t put his full weight on him, then drags his tongue along Mike’s slightly rounded stomach from all the snacks they’d been eating—making Will want to play with it like it’s his own personal playground. “I’m gonna make sure we eat more from now on,” Will murmurs, earning a breathy moan from Mike as he keeps kissing and licking around his belly button, saliva pooling there. “I-I’ll get fat—a-ah—!”

Will quickly catches Mike’s wandering hands and pins them above his head, making Mike’s eyes water as his stomach feels wet and overly sensitive. “W-Will!” Mike whines, restless. “Shit.. M-my body keeps leaking fluid, it feels weird.. and I—I feel so… wet, emmphh—!”

Will’s fingers slip into Mike’s mouth, moving in and out slowly, cutting off the sounds he was about to make. Tears gather along Mike’s cheeks as Will murmurs softly, “Give me more wet, baby… I like it.”

Mike looks so beautiful under him that Will has to stop himself from grabbing his sketchbook discarded on the floor—just to capture every detail he’s missing. The way saliva clings to Mike’s lips and stomach, the hard outline straining against his pants, his hands pinned above his head, or the warmth of Will’s fingers inside his pretty mouth.

Will feels completely overwhelmed. Will is losing his mind just from being able to touch every part of Mike like this.

“M-Mike… can I… can I go lower?” Will asks softly, his eyes fixed on Mike with something deep and full of desire, his hand occasionally brushing over the bulge in Mike’s pants, making him whimper around his fingers.

Of course Mike nods, tears pooling in his eyes. He wants his pants off now—he feels too tight, too full. He’ll go crazy if Will stops now. “W-Will, won't you think, uh, it’s disgusting… down there?” Mike asks once Will pulls his fingers out of his saliva-wet mouth, now focusing on pulling down his sweatpants and very soaked black boxers.

Mike feels his cheeks burning, both his hands gripping the sheets tightly, nervous under the way Will is looking at him—sharp, intense—maybe satisfied, or just hungry and really wanting to eat him alive. Especially at his most private part, now completely exposed like some kind of free show, his cock flushed, hard as a rock, pre-cum still leaking from the tip. “W-Will… say something… please…” Mike whimpers, on the verge of tears again, suddenly terrified that Will might actually be disgusted by him—by how pathetic he looks, begging to be touched like this.

“You’re beautiful, Mike. The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Will says, full of desire, his hand sliding along Mike’s thigh, slowly moving up to his cock, teasing him with slow strokes until Mike squirms against the pillow. “R-really? Y-you’re lying—fuck, holy sh—!” Mike gasps, bites his bruised swollen lip, trying to hold back a louder moan the second he feels Will’s mouth on his balls, licking over them skillfully, tears slipping down the sides of his face. “F-fuck, Will… it feels so good… ah!”

“Feels good, baby? Never felt anything this good before?” Will asks casually, still focused, his tongue moving against his two balls while one hand steadies Mike’s leaking cock and the other runs along his thighs, keeping him open for him. “You’re not thinking about getting a piercing down here too, my gorgeous doll? That’d be so fucking hot.”

Will’s dirty words make Mike squirm, trying so hard not to cry out too loudly—at least some tiny part of his mind still remembers his family is in the house and could walk in anytime to his room. He forgot whether he locked his bedroom door or not. So if they get caught, let them die. “Should I… ah… do it, Will? W-would you like that?” Mike asks, voice rough from his aching lips.

Will presses a soft kiss to the tip before moving back up, bringing himself level with Mike’s face again, smiling gently at him—at his beautiful, ruined Mike. “I told you, I like everything about you, my heart. Especially this version of you—just all naked and covered in my touch,” he murmurs, then leans in to steal a quick kiss, brushing damp strands of hair away from Mike’s face.

Mike’s cheeks flush bright red, his chest pounding with the rhythm of a heart threatening to burst out of his ribcage. Will looks so damn beautiful—Mike feels weak enough to collapse just from that look full of wanting him, to bring himself to his knees.

“I like you, Will,” Mike says firmly, making Will freeze, eyes widening.

“W-what?”

“I like you.. no, I’m already in love with you, William Byers.” His voice softens this time, almost a whisper, making Will feel like he’s drunk on the sound of it, finding it hard to believe it could possibly be real.

Will can feel tears filling his eyes, his chest tightening at the confession. Mike likes him. Mike loves him.

Mike Wheeler, the boy he’s loved since kindergarten, the boy he’s always yearned for, is in love with him, with Will Byers.

“W-Will, hey why are you crying? I—I’m sorry. I know we’re supposed to be best friends, but I can’t hold it in anymore. I just can’t.” Mike swallows nervously, his voice cracks. “Every day my feelings just keep getting stronger because every time you’re close to me, every time you look at me, it feels like… I don’t know, like you might feel… like you might like me too… just, maybe a little… I was hoping that when you came out a long time ago, you’d maybe open your heart for me too… I might seem like I’m taking advantage of your kindness for my own sake, Will. I-I know you’re probably upset or disappointed in me. I know I’m just an idiot. I’m not forcing you to feel the same, really. I just felt like I needed to say it, so—”

The feeling overflows all at once. Will grips Mike’s waist tightly, a silent signal for him to stop talking and just look at him—look at Will, whose eyes are already filled with tears, smiling the most beautiful smile Mike has ever seen, sweat glistening all over his face. “I love you too, Mike. I love you so, so much that your confession is driving me crazy.”

“Huh? You love me too, Will?” Mike asks innocently, his eyes widening in the cutest way, completely shocked because he never expected Will to return his feelings. “A-are you serious? You’re not just… being nice to me, right? Will, you don’t have to say it back just because you feel bad for me, I’ll be fine—emmph!”

“Stop acting as if everything I say isn’t serious, you idiot,” Will cuts him off, crashing his lips against Mike’s in a rough, desperate kiss. It is the culmination of a longing he has carried for a lifetime; he kisses Mike as though he is the center of his universe—as though Mike is his entire world. Mike is everything to Will.

Mike lets out a soft moan as Will’s hand moves back to stroke his cock, making more pre-cum leak out. His legs squirm restlessly like a worm. “Ah.. shit! Will, w-when are you gonna tell me about the parts of me that are worth something down there? Ah.. fuck,” Mike asks hoarsely, looking up at Will, almost begging. “M-my cock really hurts waiting for you…”

“Mike…”

“Y-you haven’t even taken off all your clothes yet, Will. Only me… I wanna see every pretty part of you too… I love every beautiful part of your body too, Will… P-please show me all the parts of you that are so beautiful, Will… I swear I’m gonna die if you don’t…” Mike whines, deliberately looking at Will with those damn puppy eyes, making Will give in instantly—completely unable to refuse the pretty boy under him.

His shirt gets pulled off quickly, and Mike helps unzip his pants, immediately revealing Will’s hard bulge—soaked, just like his. Making Will let out a soft moan when Mike gently strokes him up and down. “I—I want it in my mouth, please… c-can I, Will?”

Will lets Mike take off the last piece of fabric covering him, making Mike stare at his whole body in awe, while Will swallows nervously, a little embarrassed. “I-I’m nothing special, Mike,” Will says, his heart racing.

“You’re not! You’re so beautiful, Will,” Mike shoots back with a small huff, his fingers shyly reaching for Will’s cock which is just as hard as his. He lowers himself slightly so his mouth lines up perfectly with it, already flushed and swollen, slowly trying to take it all into his mouth.

“Ah.. Shit! M-Mike, what are you doing?” Will asks, panicking a little as he tries to hold Mike’s head, stopping him from going any deeper—he might actually lose his mind from how warm Mike’s mouth feels.

“Touching something that’s beautiful from you?” Mike replies innocently, starting to move carefully, his mouth sliding forward and back. Sometimes he chokes a little when it goes too deep, too full, saliva slipping down his neck again. Will grabs Mike’s hair, gripping it as he keeps him close, sharp moans slipping out, unable to hide how good it feels. “Ah fuck… f-feels so good, Mike. You’re so good for me… y-you look so pretty sucking my dick… ah…” Will rambles, his voice rough, trying not to moan too loudly.

Mike gets even more eager hearing Will’s praise, making him feel so useful. Tears gather along his face as the tip of Will’s cock brushes the back of his throat, but Mike actually likes the way it hurts. He likes hearing Will’s whines—the way he reacts to everything Mike does to make him feel this good.

“M-Mike, I-I’m gonna come!” Will pants, trying to hold it back, trying to get Mike to pull away—but Mike’s hand grips him tighter, keeping his mouth wrapped there, even sucking harder, until Will’s body jolts uncontrollably. “Mike—ah, Jesus Christ—!”

Mike looks up at him, all soft and dazed, silently telling Will to come in his mouth.

Fuck. Mike looks so fucking pretty like this—eyes glossy with tears, completely wrecked, saliva slipping from the corner of his lips, looking like he’s begging for Will to fill his mouth.

Unable to hold it any longer with how intense Mike’s sucking gets, Will groans as he comes deep into Mike’s mouth, the force of it making some spill past his lips.

Mike tries to swallow everything, even if it tastes a little weird, a little salty—but somehow, he likes it. He knows he’d do it again in a heartbeat if Will wants him to.

“Mike… fuck… are you okay?” Will asks, his voice soft with worry, especially seeing the tears still running down Mike’s face.

“It feels a little weird… but I like it,” Mike replies hoarsely, his voice almost gone, gives Will a small, tired smile before letting himself fall back onto the bed. “Holy shit, I feel… really full…”

Will lets out a soft chuckle, then wraps his hand around Mike’s still-hard cock. He strokes him slowly and gently, making Mike let out another high-pitched moan. Mike whines because he's already so sensitive—red and swollen from the start. “W-Will! Ah! I thought you were supposed to be nice!”

“I am,” Will murmurs, a teasing smirk on his lips. “I’m making you feel good, baby. Come for me… the part I love most about you is how hard you get, how red and swollen you are, and how much of a mess you make when I touch you like this.”

Mike lets out a broken whimper, his head falling back against the pillow. Honestly, he could come just from Will’s hand alone.

“Ah, ah, I love you, Will!” Mike cries out, his voice straining as he finally comes. It spills all over the sheets and the bed, some of it landing on his stomach—and even on Will’s face, since he’s still hovering so close.

Will goes still for a moment, his hands still gripping Mike’s thighs, his face lightly splattered—and through his blurry vision, Mike panics a little, reaching up with shaky hands to cup Will’s face. “O-oh my god, ah, Will, shit, I’m sorry—I didn’t think it’d come that much…” he whispers shyly, his face heating up as Will continues to stare at him so intensely.

Will doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he gently holds Mike’s chin and leans in, kissing him softly. Mike lets out a quiet whine into it, his arms wrapping around Will’s neck. “I love you too… my heart,” Will murmurs once he pulls back slightly. “I’m so happy you love me too.”

Mike presses his face into the crook of Will’s neck, seeking to absorb every bit of heat his body has to offer. “I’m so happy you love me too, Will,” he repeats softly, feeling that nervous warmth spread through his whole body again. Then, almost in a whisper, he adds, “Next time… come inside me, Will.”

That catches Will completely off guard—his grip on Mike tightens instinctively, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “Y-you want me inside you?”

Mike nods, nuzzling his nose cutely like a needy puppy against Will’s. “Yeah, obviously. I want to feel all of you, Will,” he whispers, hugging him tighter as if there’s still too much space between them. “Let’s fuck after I get that piercing, okay?”

Will’s mouth falls open for a second, stunned by how bold Mike sounds. What even are they now? Still best friends? Friends with benefits? But they love each other too.

So this time, whatever it is, he chooses not to care. Not right now, with their hearts racing against each other, pressed so close together, like they really are something more—like they’re boyfriends.

“Yeah… I can’t wait to see that piercing on you, gorgeous,” Will says softly, a small smile forming. “I can’t wait to fuck you, too.”