Chapter Text
“Sorry, guys, but I need to undo the button on my pants—I’m absolutely stuffed.” Dustin sinks back into his chair and rubs his stomach contentedly.
“I’m right there with you,” Lucas says, scooting his chair back to make some room.
“That lasagna was damn good,” Max adds.
Will and Mike are also busy digesting their food. The party enjoys the quiet; only the ticking of the clock can be heard.
“What time is it anyway?” Dustin asks.
“Seven thirty,” Will replies.
“Wow,” Lucas says. “Feels way later than that.”
Dustin looks around the room. They did it. After all these years, they finally did it. They graduated high school, and soon everyone will head off to college, leaving Hawkins—and the Upside Down—behind for good.
“I mean… it’s not too late to go to Stacey’s party,” Dustin grins.
Mike groans. That’s the last thing he feels like doing.
“Tempting,” Max says, glancing at Lucas, who’s eyebrows twitch upward.
“I wouldn’t mind a little fun.”
Will’s face lights up. “Same here!”
Mike whirls around. “What? Are you serious?”
“Come on, Mike! We finally graduated. We deserve to celebrate a little.” Dustin leans forward, looking at him eagerly.
“Dustin’s right. When was the last time we actually had fun?” Lucas adds.
A crease forms between Mike’s eyebrows. “Uh—how about an hour ago, when we—”
“Excluding D&D,” Max rolls her eyes. “Let’s just go. Mike can stay home if he wants.”
Mike snorts and crosses his arms. The others exchange silent looks. Typical Mike, they think.
Dustin jumps up. “It’s still pretty early. I suggest we all head home real quick and meet up again at nine at the Squawk?”
“Oooh,” Max grins. “Need to freshen up for Stacey?”
Lucas and Will giggle, then immediately fall silent when they meet Dustin’s dark glare.
“Shut it, Max. Nine o’clock at the Squak.”
Lucas, Max, and Dustin grab their things and disappear out the front door.
***
Fresh out of the shower, Will stands in front of the bathroom mirror, applying the cologne he saves only for special occasions. He buttons his light blue shirt, leaving the top two buttons undone. Will feels good. Not only does he finally feel comfortable in his own body after all these years—he also likes what he sees in the mirror. His face has grown more angular, his light stubble making him look older. And… he likes it. He doesn't really look like a teenager anymore, more like a young adult.
KNOCK KNOCK.
“Come in,” Will says, placing his cologne back in the cabinet.
Mike opens the bathroom door and stiffens up when he sees Will. The pleasantly fresh, smoky scent of his cologne immediately hits his nose. He studies Will for a moment.
“Cool shirt—is it new?” Mike makes no move to step away from the doorway.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Will looks him over more closely now. “Aren’t you going to change too?”
Mike looks confused—and annoyed. “For what?”
“For the party?”
Mike groans. “You’re seriously going?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Will shrugs. “I’ve always wanted to go to a party. And—I don’t know, maybe we’ll meet some cool people.”
That only confuses Mike more. The party is already full—who else is there to meet?
“It’ll be fun,” Will adds.
“I doubt it.”
Will lets out a short laugh. “Oh? What would you rather do—rot in your room and go to sleep at ten?”
“No,” Mike snorts, thinking quickly. “I’d much rather read the new Batman comic.”
“You can read that tomorrow, Mike,” Will says with a grin. Mike’s expression doesn’t change. “Look, if you really don’t want to go, that’s fine. Stay home. Don’t feel pressured.”
“I’m not. And I won’t. But don’t come crying to me later about Dustin getting into a fight or Max slipping in a puddle of puke.”
Will laughs. “Don’t worry.”
***
As Will walks down the stairs, he spots Mike in the living room.
“You’re here?” Will asks, eyeing Mike sprawled on the couch with his feet up on the armrest.
“Yeah, I felt like reading down here.” Mike flips a page, his eyes glued to the comic.
“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Will asks.
Mike scoffs. “Definitely not.”
“Okay. Then see you tomorrow, I guess.”
“Mhm.” Mike secretly peers over the comic, watching Will take one last look at himself in the mirror. He runs a hand through his hair and straightens his collar. A strange, uneasy feeling settles in Mike’s stomach. The front door shuts, and he hears Will’s footsteps fade until everything goes quiet.
Dusk has already set in. Mike suddenly feels restless. Why does everyone want to go to this stupid party? What’s so special about it? Drunk people, sweaty, obnoxious crowds everywhere. He can maybe picture Lucas in that scenario—but the others? And why is everyone so okay with Mike not coming along?
“Damn it,” Mike mutters, snapping his comic shut and storming out the front door.
Will is already a bit ahead. “Will!” He doesn’t hear him, so Mike speeds up. “Will!”
Will stops abruptly and spins around. “Mike?” He waits until Mike reaches him, breathing heavily.
“Uh… you forgot your key.” Mike holds it up, letting it dangle between them.
“Oh. Thanks.”
“Sure.” A brief silence settles between them. Mike looks at Will expectantly.
“Anything else?” Will raises an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips.
“What? No. I just wanted to bring you your key.” A pause. “And—maybe I changed my mind.”
Will laughs. He was almost certain that Mike would come around. He knows him too well—knows that Mike’s a control freak who needs to know exactly how, where, and when things happen.
“Okay. Cool.”
“But just to be clear—I’m only coming so you don’t have to walk home alone at night. That could be dangerous,” Mike stammers.
Will narrows his eyes. “We’re eighteen, Mike. What’s going to happen?”
“Uh—murderers? Criminals? Wild animals?”
“Mike—are you for real?”
Mike lets out a deep sigh. “Okay, whatever. Let’s just… go.”
They walk the rest of the way mostly in silence. The sun has nearly disappeared beyond the horizon, and a light, pleasant breeze drifts through the streets of Hawkins. When they arrive, the whole group is already there. Robin and Steve are leaning against their cars, arguing about something.
Max spots them first. “Knew it,” she whispers to Lucas.
“Mike!” Dustin jumps up excitedly and walks over. He’s wearing a short-sleeved black shirt, his hair freshly styled.
“Hey,” Mike mutters.
“Okay, so here’s the plan: Steve and Robin drive us to Stacey’s party, we split up between the cars, and when we get there, we have the best and most unforgettable night of our lives! Sound good?”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Henderson. No lines are being crossed today,” Steve says, eyeing Dustin warningly. Dustin just rolls his eyes and hops into Steve’s car.
“Hey, I saw that! Don’t roll your eyes or—” Steve follows him.
“Perfect. Robin, I’ll ride with you,” Will says, earning a warm look from her.
“Me too,” Mike adds immediately.
Max and Lucas get into Steve’s car. When they all arrive at Stacey’s, loud music is already blasting from the house. Will’s eyes light up. He can’t believe he’s finally been invited to a real party.
The next thirty minutes feel like a fever dream to Mike. He watches Dustin get immediately dragged away by Stacey for a round of beer pong. “See you later, my friends,” were his last words before disappearing onto the patio. Max, Lucas, and Will knock back two welcome shots and flee straight to the dance floor. The house is huge—the living room and kitchen form one big open space, packed with dozens of people. You can barely move without pushing through the crowd.
Mike settles onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen island and watches. Max and Lucas sing euphorically to I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston. Will and Robin have their hands intertwined, spinning each other around while singing at the top of their lungs.
“Why so grumpy, little Wheeler?” Steve joins Mike, taking the stool beside him.
“I’m not in the mood to drink,” Mike admits, his eyes fixed on Will and Robin. It’s almost admirable how much Will is glowing—completely in his element. Mike would have enjoyed the sight a bit more if he hadn't had to watch Will finish his first beer and already have a new one in his hand.
Steve chuckles. “Then you’re definitely on the opposite end of the Wheeler spectrum.”
Mike snaps his head toward him, looking confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Was he talking about Nancy?
“Uh, nevermind.”
Mike turns back to the crowd. Robin is gone. Instead, a dark-haired guy is talking to Will. Mike’s heart drops. Who the hell is that?
“Whoa!” Robin suddenly appears beside Steve. “I need a refreshment. Drinks?” She and Steve disappear toward the back of the kitchen, but Mike hardly notices. His attention is locked on Will.
He’s smiling shyly, already swaying slightly. Mike swallows hard. Why is that guy leaning in so close—right to Will’s ear? Sure, the music’s loud, but not that loud. And Will doesn’t seem bothered at all. If anything, he looks like he likes it—leaning in to respond the same way.
Mike can’t quite place what he’s feeling. He’s never seen Will like this. This doesn’t look like the Will he knows.
When Steve and Robin return, Mike can’t hold it in any longer.
He nudges Robin. “Who’s the guy with Will?”
Robin studies him for a moment. “Uh, no idea. He came up to Will, complimented him, said he dances well. I thought I'd leave the two of them alone so they can... you know, to get to know each other.”
Mike stays quiet, but the knot in his stomach tightens. The guy gestures toward the patio. Will briefly scans the room—and their eyes meet. Mike’s expression remains blank, almost as if he wants to see how far Will will go. He watches as Will laughs and follows the random guy outside, disappearing into the crowd. Luckily, Steve and Robin are deep in conversation, giving Mike the chance to slip onto the patio as well.
It takes a moment to spot Will. They’re dancing near the pool. He watches them for a while, when a loud cheering draws Mike’s attention—Dustin is hanging upside down from a beer keg, chugging to the rhythm of the chanting crowd like he’s about to burst. Mike shakes his head. Apparently everyone just lost their minds.
He spots Lucas and Max making out on one of the lounge chairs and rolls his eyes before scanning the rest of the scene: dancing couples, endless laughter, music blasting at full volume. He’s never seen anything like this in real life. And he has to admit—it looks exactly like the parties he’s seen in movies. He leans his back against the cold wall of the house.
Again and again, his gaze flicks to Will, appearing and disappearing among the laughing, singing crowd. The guy is dancing very close to him. Extremely close.
And then he leans in.
Mike’s heart leaps. No.
Will jerks back in surprise, loses his balance, slips—and falls backward into the pool.
“Will!” Mike sprints forward, shoving past people without hesitation and dives straight into the water.
Lucas and Max jump apart and watch Mike jump headfirst into the water. “What the hell?”
As if on cue, five more people jump in the pool, cheering. Mike grabs Will by the arm and hauls him to the surface. Both of them gasp for air as Mike drags him to the edge, their faces are only a few inches apart, but neither of them pull away.
“Mike,” Will says, breathing heavily. “That wasn’t… necessary—I can swim.”
“You’re completely wasted,” Mike snaps, surprised by the harshness in his own voice. He studies Will for a few seconds, then softens when he realizes Will’s breathing hasn’t steadied yet. “You okay?”
Will nods. “Yeah. I’m just… dizzy.”
“Let’s get out. Come on.” Mike climbs out and offers his hand. As soon as Will’s on his feet, he nearly stumbles back into the pool.
“Whoa, Will.” Mike’s eyes widen. He’s never seen him like this—and it scares him. What would have happened if he hadn't come along? Who would've looked after Will? He could've been seriously hurt. His heart feels heavy. Will raises a hand defensively but can’t form words.
“Hey, you okay, Will?” the dark-haired guy suddenly appears beside them, trying to support Will from the other side. Mike shoots him an icy glare.
“I’ve got him,” he says, lifting his arm protectively in front of Will, so no one can come near him. The guy falls silent, watching as Mike leads Will back into the house.
“Guys, everything okay?” Lucas and Max look at them with concern.
“Yeah. He just drank too much. I’m taking him home. Enjoy the party.”
“Mike, where are you going?” Dustin shouts from atop a table.
Mike ignores him, fighting through the crowd with Will in tow, who staggers and nearly trips over everything in his path. Luckily, Robin and Steve are still at the kitchen island.
“Hey, Steve. Can you drive us home? Will is through.”
“What the hell happened to you guys?” Steve stares at them—both soaked.
“Don’t ask,” Mike rolls his eyes. “Just drive us, please.”
***
By the time they reach the Wheelers’ house, Will is barely conscious, eyes half-closed, clinging to Mike for dear life. He reaches for the basement door, but Mike stops him.
A bunch of question marks are popping up on Will's face as Mike leads him up the stairs to his room.
“Why are we going up?”
“It’s almost three in the morning. You want to wake Jonathan and explain your condition?” That shuts Will up.
Mike sits him down on his desk chair, disappears briefly, then returns with a towel. He dries Will’s hair first, then his own. Their wet clothes have formed a small puddle on the floor.
“Alright, you need to change, Will.”
Will shakes his head stubbornly. “No. I don’t want to.”
“What do you mean, you don’t want to? You can’t sleep in wet clothes—you’ll catch a cold.”
The words go right past Will, who keeps shaking his head. The fatigue, along with the alcohol, has left him feeling drained.
“Will…”
“Can you help me?”
Mike blinks. He found it hard not to let his anger and frustration show too much. He knew it wasn't a good idea to go to this damn party. He knew it and now, Will is a total mess and the two of them are soaked to the bone.
But despite all that, he has to admit that seeing Will so clingy and almost needy softens his harshness. Mike would probably never admit it, but he's always enjoyed taking care of Will. It's like an instinct. A natural, unspoken dynamic between them.
“Fine,” he whispers.
He slowly unbuttons Will’s shirt, heat blooming in his chest. Mike swallows hard. “Why aren’t you wearing an undershirt?”
Will frowns. “It’s summer.”
Mike pauses a moment. “Oh, right,” he says sarcastically. Apparently he learned something new today: talking to Drunk Will is like talking to a child.
Mike notices his breathing getting shallower and faster, and he can't explain why his heart is beating so quickly. When he slips the shirt off Will’s shoulders, something shifts inside him. Will’s body has changed over the past two years. His body's looking more muscular and defined now. Mike has spotted it before through his clothes, but this ... this different. Although the moisture leaves behind a chill, Will's skin seems to burn under his touch.
Mike snaps put of his thoughts and pulls a clean shirt over Will’s head.
“Stand up.”
Will is still groggy, but he immediately does what Mike says. He seeks silent permission to continue, to which Will responds by looking at him with glowing eyes. After a brief hesitation, Mike reaches for Will’s waistband, unbuttons it, then lowers the zipper. Will inhales sharply, almost inaudibly. Mike’s gaze snaps up, meeting Will’s eyes. The moment lingers too long. Longer than it should. All of a sudden, Mike feels different. He can't describe this feeling he has, but he knows it's wrong. He is not supposed to feel this way. But the way Will looks at him is captivating. Has Will always looked at him like that?
Mike swallows hard and pulls the pants down. Will slightly braces his hands on Mike’s shoulders to step out of them. The touch is so gentle that it leaves a tickling sensation on Mike's skin. He ignores the feeling and continues to take off his socks before he straightens up again.
Suddenly, Will seems sobered. He watches as Mike pulls out a clean pair of boxers and hands them to him. Mike looks at Will so intensely it makes him dizzy again. He watches as Mike turns away, ready to change his clothes. Will turns his back too and puts on a new pair of shorts and pyjama bottoms.
Mike moves like a robot, his gestures are controlled, and it looks as if his emotions are entirely switched off. He pulls a sleeping bag from the closet and spreads it out on the floor beside the bed. “You take the bed.” His voice is so monotone that Will doesn't dare argue with him. He collapses onto the mattress, curling into Mike’s blankets. The familiar scent surrounds Will, and he relaxes instantly. As his body winds down, his head starts spinning.
“Mike,” Will whispers. “Everything’s spinning.”
“Are you nauseous?”
“No. Just… dizzy.”
Mike hearts softens. Of course he's annoyed that Will has disregarded his boundaries so much. That he drank too much. That no one listened to him. But he finds it hard to stay angry, to stay strict.
“Try to focus on something. So that you don't lose your balance,” explains Mike.
Will furrows his brows. “What… I don’t understand…”
Mike sighs softly. “Here. Take my hand.” He holds it out, and Will takes it after a moment. “Focus on that. And try to sleep. I think it'll be the fastest way to sober up.”
“Okay.” Will’s hand fits perfectly in Mike’s—warm and soft, covering his whole palm and the back of his hand. Will's heart skips a beat. He had never held Mike's hand like this before. In fact, not so long ago, this was exactly what he had always wanted. To feel Mike's gentle touch. He wants to savor the moment. He wants to remember the feeling so bad, but his tired and exhausted body fights against it. Just a few moments later, Will falls asleep.
Mike, however, is still wide awake. Although he holds his hand up to Will's, he can't feel any numbness or discomfort. In fact, he finds it soothing, which surprises him. A tingling sensation builds in his stomach, and he notices that his breathing is still uneven. He feels … nervous. But why? This is Will. They’ve been best friends since kindergarten. Where is this feeling suddenly coming from? And what the hell does it mean?
As Will falls into a deeper sleep, his grip on Mike's hand begins to loosen.
But that doesn't stop Mike. He maintains his firm hold on it throughout the entire night.