Chapter Text
Mike’s skin prickled with heat as the stuffy summer air circled through his bedroom. His eyes were shut, but he was still able to perceive the morning light through his lashes. It was probably late in the morning, he thought, if the high temperature had already snuck into his room. He kept his eyes closed, unwilling to get up, kicking the sheets and covers down to the foot of the bed to stave off the heat. Stupid summer. So suffocating. His bare legs, long and lanky, caught a small breeze of freshness as he stirred, turning his pillow over. He groaned and turned over to his other side, facing the window, but it wasn’t long until he just lay on his back, breathing heavily. His hands clenched slightly, barely woken and already bothered by the stale air trapped inside his bedroom, pretending to try to sleep again to avoid the day’s responsibilities. Well, at least his mom hadn’t shown up yet. He always hated how he woke him up, banging on the door and opening the curtains forcibly.
Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, barely a slit. He shut them and opened them once again, seeing the mess of his room in shades of brown, dark yet with slivers of light sneaking out through the edges of the window. He turned onto his right side, facing the usual, mundane shapes of his furniture, posters, and clothes he didn’t feel like picking up.
He realized having slept through his alarm when he looked at the bright red numbers, marking 11:19 in the morning. Great, he’d wasted the morning already. Wait, never mind, that wasn’t all bad– there’d be a family reunion that day, which meant he’d probably skipped a big chunk of it. Ah, what a good way to wake up, he’d slept through their arrivals, and his mom was probably too busy to remember to come annoy him.
He sat up in bed lazily, leaning back on his hands and staring at the wall in front of him.
Mike’s heavy eyelids threatened to shut as he stayed in the same place, thinking. Pieces of the night before started joining in his mind, remembering his sneaking into El’s window as quietly as possible, seeing wide eyes and then a relieved smile, tinted with recognition– a recognition she reserved for him, those eyes she looked only at him with. Echoes of their whispering came back to him, how El kept telling him to shut up, struggling to keep their volume as low as they could, giggling and covering each other’s mouths. Her skin felt sweet and soft on his lips, smelling like the forest around them and a hint of wildflowers. The darkness only amplified the sensations, El’s short, bitten-off nails dragging through his arm and the rough wooden wall against his back, his hands lost and wandering, trying to let out the energy pulsing from his racing heart. Then the pit in his stomach as he was exiting the window, obviously not falling on his ass, and then the chilly air stinging his skin as he biked back home with swollen lips and ruffled hair.
Meeting at night was still a new thing. Before, they didn’t really feel the need to, as they saw each other practically every day for at least an hour, but they’d gotten pretty sick of Hopper’s ominous presence, threatening to barge in on them every other minute. Plus, they’d only been able to see each other for only forty-five minutes– forty-five minutes!– that day, because Hopper had planned dinner night with El or something. They’d spent like, thirty of those minutes planning Mike’s sneaking in, at what time, what El would do to make sure Hopper wouldn’t hear them, etcetera etcetera.
“What if Hopper wakes up? He usually sleeps on the couch, not his room”, El told him in a low voice after some thought, sitting cross-legged on her bed. She was a bit more reluctant than Mike, or maybe it just seemed that way because of Mike’s overwhelming excitement to do something different, something tinted with a little danger.
“Well, we could just try and be quiet, I guess,” Mike said, gesturing with his hands, thinking himself helpful. He wouldn’t admit that he was sort of nervous, but his eyes darting through the room gave him away.
“I’m quiet. You’re not”, El said playfully, trying to suppress her smile. “Maybe you should take your own advice.” If she had been reluctant, it was probably gone now, her eyes giving up her own eagerness for what they had planned. She didn’t even seem to care what Hopper thought now.
“Hey!” Mike complained, moving close in front of her. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
“I don’t”, El grinned again and pulled Mike in for a kiss.
The hours passed slowly by until it was 10:30 pm, and Mike couldn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach from the second he’d exited his house through his bedroom window to avoid his dad, asleep in the living room–much like El’s dad, too– it had gone better than either of them had expected. They’d been (mostly) quiet and hadn’t heard a stir from outside. And, most importantly, Hopper hadn’t bothered them. So, they’d met their main objective.
And now, in the morning, Mike still had that same haze in his head. He remembered the night as the light from the window fell onto his arm, uncovered by his loose white tank top. He could almost feel El’s hands around him then, phantom touches that felt like pushes to go back, to do it again. The memory of her taste overtook him, sighing almost desperately as he rested his head on his hand and looked longingly out the window, not caring that the harsh light would probably blind him temporarily. He sighed at the prospect of going back tonight, for the excitement to climb up his body once again, to feel the slight danger of sneaking through the window. A small smile crept up his face as he rubbed his eyes and got off his bed.
He wouldn’t be able to see El that day, as his mom had forced him to stay at home because his cousins from Virginia—or was it Vermont?—were visiting. Mike complained to her mom as he usually did, hoping for a chance to at least leave for a couple of hours to “go to the movies with his friends”, but it was to no avail. He huffed as he stood up, putting on his sandals.
Because of this, he decided he’d surprise El and do the same thing as yesterday. It all had gone well, she probably expected him anyway—they wouldn’t be able to see each other during the day, so why not go? He’d check for the lights on in the TV room, whisper to El subtly to wake no one else… it’d go great.
His mom wouldn’t take long to start banging on his door, telling him to receive the guests and give them water or whatever. So, he hurried to the bathroom to at least get a shower before his mom started annoying him, making sure to grab any clothes from the floor of his bedroom, then quietly running through the hallway. But, of course, his mom caught him as soon as he walked out of his bedroom.
“Michael! Come greet the guests!”
Mike’s morning was all rushing, serving, and greeting. Kisses on cheeks from his aunt and yelling from the youngest cousins passed him by in a flurry as he tried (not really) to help his mom and Holly make and serve breakfast. Nancy was unfortunately gone, which meant more work for him, but he didn’t feel too much urgency to finish his tasks and decided to stare at everyone passing while standing still in the middle of the kitchen or living room, moving the occasional dirty dish to the sink, then standing still in the eye of the hurricane once more.
It wasn’t long until everyone was sitting at the dinner table, cramped up and on the chairs Mike had reluctantly brought up from the basement. He ate his breakfast absently, not listening to the family gossip or compliments on the food, instead focusing on his future activities. His eagerness to repeat the night before clouded his mind as he took a bite of his scrambled eggs, craving to feel whatever he’d felt yesterday. It wasn’t the kissing—okay, yeah, maybe that was part of it—but the simple prospect of living what felt like a cheesy teen movie gave him butterflies, as embarrassing as it was to admit it. He’d never been the sappy kind, but having a girl to listen to kiss, whose house to sneak into at night, it all felt perfectly, stupidly romantic. They were young and happy and free, never fought, the kind of relationship everyone at his age longed for. It was perfect. Yes, perfect. Being everyone’s envy, and needing nothing else than each other. Even if that meant spending a little less time with his friends.
Who could blame him, anyway? Lucas had Max, Dustin had Suzie, Will had… D&D. Yeah, it’s not like they really needed him anymore. They’d grown up and had different priorities in life: girls. He and Lucas had gotten ahead with that, and Dustin didn’t take long to eventually catch on. As for Will… he’d get there eventually. He’d always been shy, and his Upside Down experiences couldn’t have helped with that. He wasn’t sure how the two could be related, but he figured it’s all been tough on him. And Mike had seen it—he was there through everything Will had gone through last Halloween, but now, everything seemed fine. Will probably didn’t need his help anymore; he could handle himself. He had Jonathan, didn’t he? Or was he working alongside Nancy? She’d told Mike about it, but he hadn’t been paying much attention. Well, he had Joyce anyway. They got along well. Yep, Will definitely had company, so it wasn’t something Mike had to worry about.
“Michael!”
A loud voice suddenly pulled him from his thoughts.
“Aunt Gemma’s talking to you.”
His mom was making eyes at Mike from her place two chairs away from him, wordlessly telling him to behave and be nice to the guests. Mike’s eyes drift from her to his aunt, who’s sitting opposite him. She wasn’t all that alike to his mom, as their eyes were different colors and her smile was cold where her mom’s was warm. His aunt also looked older, more put-together, as if she had come from one of those rare political posters featuring polished, refined women. The only thing she and Karen had in common now was the color of their hair, bleached blonde.
“How has school been? Still on top of the class?” Mike’s aunt spoke slowly, pausing at the right moments even when using few words. Her S’s were slightly whistled but smooth, giving her a somewhat soothing tone of voice. It sounded a bit unnatural, though, like a voice from an ad on the TV or the radio.
“Uhh”, Mike replied, barely looking up from his plate, “yeah, I guess.” How long had it been since they’d seen this side of the family? Who had told them Mike was a straight-A student (untruthfully)?
“Do you have a girlfriend yet, Michael?” Aunt Gemma’s husband, Uncle Paul, spoke up. He combed the few gray hairs on top of his head, then used his fork and knife to cut up his… toast? Why was he doing that?
“Uh, yeah”, Mike replied, not helping the slight smile that reached his face at the thought of El.
His mind started spiraling once again, repeating the same single syllable in different tones, different pitches and voices, the same word composed of two letters. The single word he’d repeated over and over, so easy on his tongue and so familiar nowadays. El, El, El, short and sweet. El, pretty El. A spark ran up his body when he remembered her lips once more.
Mike thought his uncle would continue to interrogate him about El, but he seemed to lose interest as soon as he told him her name (Jane for cover-up, of course). He figured that family only asked about boyfriends and girlfriends to be nosy, and when they got a direct, positive response, they didn’t care much anymore, as it wouldn’t be as fun to tease them.
The conversation (thankfully) drifted away from him soon enough, as Gemma complimented the food and the younger kids asked someone to pass the pancakes. Mike ate his breakfast quietly, caring little about whatever everyone was talking about, still monomaniacally thinking about his girlfriend and his plans for that night. What clothes would he wear? Oh! He could bring her some snacks from his house, given that Hopper rarely bought her any sweets. He’d start getting ready at 10 or so after making sure everyone at his home is asleep, and then sneak out through the window like last time, but being more careful this time around so the fall is less painful. He could also leave a ladder so climbing back inside isn’t too hard, although that might not be a good idea, ‘cause it would be hard to move a ladder without drawing attention. Then again, the family was so busy with the guests that they probably wouldn’t even notice if he picked a good time to move it from the basement, although it wasn’t exactly easy to hide a ladder, of all things…
The same string of thoughts followed him until breakfast was over as he brought his dirty dishes to the sink, not helping anyone else unless asked. When everything was somewhat calmer, he walked upstairs and locked himself inside the bathroom, turning on the shower and dialing it up to a hot, almost scorching temperature. He took a deep breath as he got in, feeling the water envelop his body, leaving his skin red where it had touched him.
If this wasn’t a good day, it would sure as hell be a good night.
The clock on the dining room wall moved too slowly. It wasn’t that Mike had been staring at it all afternoon, not purposefully, of course, but it was far more interesting than having to listen to his family’s eternal ramblings on any random topic. It was worse than breakfast, because this time, everyone seemed calmer, less hectic than at the start of the day, which caused the family to have full concentration on whatever they were talking about, which also meant Mike wouldn’t be able to look at nothing and avoid conversation, now that his mom had the time and mindspace to make him talk to the family and giving him eyes whenever he zoned out.
He stopped looking at the clock eventually, when his mom successfully dug him into a hole when she told him to tell his family about El (well, Jane) and about what he had been up to during the summer. He almost got out of it with his tone, making the family less than eager to listen, but his mom looked at him with a silent promise to ground him, and his tongue was suddenly loose. He tried to talk a lot about the same three topics, as he hadn’t done much during the summer except making out with his girlfriend. Which he would do tonight once again, he thought, a sneaky grin almost escaping him. Even as he talked about Starcourt and movies he’d watched, his leg bounced and his hand fidgeted impatiently, hoping for dinner to be over so he could leave his home a bit earlier and spend more time with El. There was also the problem of Hopper being asleep before 10 (he probably wouldn’t be), so he had to wait a bit more. But he couldn’t. He wanted time to speed up, to skip everything until he was crawling out of his window and hopping on his bike.
Eventually, he went quiet again, but his mom thankfully didn’t push him into talking more this time. He looked at the clock again: 7:48. Shit. It was still so early. What would he even do in these spare two hours? Well, maybe his mom had rented a movie for the family could watch, so he could get distracted with that and kill some time. Although he doubted he’d be able to fully focus on the movie. Or, if there was no movie, maybe he could catch up on some comic books, which he had paused on some months ago, preferring to go out than stay at home and read.
But none of those options came to be, as his mom had planned family game night. This was… good? At least he’d get distracted, he thought, but he didn’t really focus on the game as much than on his daydreams about some hours later. He couldn’t wait to see El’s expression in the darkness, surprised yet giddy. She’d check outside her room to make sure Hopper was asleep, be it in his room or in front of the TV. Then, she’d shut her door and help Mike inside through the window, quickly pulling him in for a kiss and then shutting the window using her powers. She’d smile against his lips as his hands surrounded his neck awkwardly, but they’d soon find comfort tangled in her short, soft hair, and it would be, once again, perfect.
It was Holly’s turn when suddenly, the phone rang. Expecting it to be El, he got up from the table almost on instinct and barely excused himself, rushing to the source of the noise.
He almost tripped on the way to the phone. He got hold of it and almost knocked it from its place on the wall as he took it and put it to his ear.
“El?”
“Um, no. It’s Will, Mike.”
Mike exhaled, trying to hide his disappointment. It wasn’t that he didn’t still like Will, but he’d been expecting El all day. Come to think of it, it was kind of strange she hadn’t called. Maybe because she knew he’d be busy that day.
“Oh, hey, Will.”
Mike heard Will’s breath on the phone, and it occurred to him how it was the same breath as when they were little. His voice had changed, but the pace of his breathing was the same. He remembered when Joyce heard him on the phone back when he’d gone missing. He brushed the thought off, not wanting to go back to those times.
“I was wondering if I could sleep over tonight. My mom’s working late, and she doesn’t want me to stay at home by myself. Jonathan’s working too, I think.”
Mike cringed internally. Of all nights. He wouldn’t usually mind; sleepovers were common between the two of them, even more so when one of them (usually Will) was left home alone. But not tonight. Not when he’d planned everything perfectly.
Wait, but it was all okay! There was so much family staying at their home that day, there was no way his mom would let him invite anyone over with all the chaos. He’d just tell Will that. That way, he wouldn’t appear as a jerk to Will and would still be able to go on with his plans.
“Oh, Will, I— tonight’s not good, we’ve got extended family staying over and my mom’s stressed enough as it is, and uh, there’s probably no more room for anyone else, so yeah. I’m—I’m sorry, you know you’re always welcome, but, uh, you know. Tonight’s not a good night for that.”
There was silence on the line, and this time, Mike didn’t even hear Will’s breath. Finally, there was a short sigh from Will.
“Oh. Yeah, sure, I totally get it. Don’t worry about it.”
Mike stayed quiet after. He felt a little bad for saying no to Will—come to think of it, he almost always told him yes since they were little—but he had his reasons. He debated telling him about his plans with El, but he didn’t want Will to feel replaced or something, since Mike hadn’t spent much time with him that summer. Plus, Will probably wouldn’t understand his desperation to see El, out of all of his friends. Maybe someday he would.
Will spoke again, slowly. “Have fun at your family thing. I’ll see you soon.”
“Sure. Um, bye.”
“Bye.”
The line went dead before Mike could hang up.
The clock read 9:58pm. The house was quiet. And Mike was pacing.
He looked through his closet, trying to pick an outfit that suited the occasion. He considered staying in his same clothes: denim shorts and a colorful polo. He looked through the closet, then in the mirror, and opted for changing just to kill time. He took off the polo and put on a navy blue button-down, looking in the mirror once again. The color suited him.
He sprayed unholy amounts of cologne on himself: on his shirt, behind his ears, on his face while closing his eyes. He paced around his room in his socks, looking around to check if he’d forgotten anything. He grabbed objects, examined them, then put them back anxiously. He repeated this more times than probably necessary, then walked to his bedroom door, opening it a crack to check whether someone was still awake or downstairs. He merely heard murmuring from adjacent rooms, but the hallway was already dark except for the light spilling out of his own room.
There was no need to tiptoe as he was wearing socks, but he walked down the stairs slowly and quietly. He made a beeline towards the kitchen and started digging through the pantry, finding some M&M’s he’d bought about a week ago and some cookies he hadn’t seen before, which had the name Biscoff written on the red package. He grabbed them and then went back upstairs, a little less careful than before.
When Mike had nothing else to do and it was still 10:08pm, he decided to sit on his bed and read some comic books to pass the time, but it was hard to listen to his internal voice read with his pounding heart and his clenching stomach. He couldn’t wait any longer. The time was so close, yet so far away, Mike thought as he felt the minutes tick by painfully slowly. He did nothing except stare at Magneto’s face on the comic, desperate and bored of being in his room. He needed to leave now.
He didn’t care that his anxiety had gotten the better of him as he was climbing out of his window, his long limbs scratching against the frame uncomfortably. He’d done this before, he told himself, he could do it again. And it would all be worth it just to see El, beautiful in the darkness of her room and— ouch. Okay, that kind of hurt. The height from his window to the ground was higher than he remembered. But it was okay. Not really. No, it was. He could go on.
The grass was damp, slightly soaking his shorts and shirt. He stifled a groan as he moved, his back and left leg aching. The ladder option would’ve been less painful. He got jealous of Nancy then, who had a tree next to her window and could’ve avoided the fall. Wait, was she even home? Why hadn’t he thought of just using Nancy’s window? God, he was so stupid. Well, whatever. He was outside already. He rested his weight on his hands behind him, sighing as he got up slowly and considered that maybe he’d been a bit impulsive. Just a bit.
He didn’t think too hard about that, though, as he quickly made his way towards the garage. He’d left his bike outside on purpose so he didn’t have to open the garage door and wake everyone with the noise. As he got on the bike, he started pedaling quickly, recklessly moving forward as the bike swayed left and right. Hopper’s cabin was far from his house, practically at the other side of town, which is why he wanted to hurry. He gripped the maneuver like a lifeline, the metal digging into his palms and fingers, breathing heavily. The excitement propelled him forward, giving energy to his legs to keep going, not feeling an ounce of tiredness due to the adrenaline coursing through his body. The bike light served as a beacon, indicating the familiar path he’d follow and chasing the patches of light until they went dark behind him.
The chilly air ruffled his hair, and he had the feeling of being in a movie once again. The boy rushing to get the girl in a dark night with barely any noise around him except for the buzzing streetlights and chirping of nocturnal animals. Dashing up the road towards another adventure, the path mattering less than what he’d find at the end: the princess in her tower, welcoming him as she stretched out her hand and hypnotized him with a smile. She would wear a beautiful, home-made dress, decorated with spirals and lacy patterns that stretched out even longer than her own feet. Her hair would be tangled with wildflowers of many colors; pink next to her cheek, blue above her forehead, and purple as it reached her shoulder. Mike, the knight, would try to avoid making any noise as he crept through the window, preventing his metallic armor from clanging against the wooden wall. He’d tread carefully, more so in the presence of his lady, the princess, as they had to keep their meetings secret. The king would never approve of their bond—who was he, a simple knight who was not very strong at that, compared to the princess, with her sublime beauty and her smile as sweet as the sun?
Mike couldn’t help but smile at the story he’d come up with. He’d lived a big chunk of his life that way, making up stories when reality got too tough. He thought he’d grown out of it, but it was a part of him that probably would never go away. That’s why he wanted to be a writer, after all, to share his vast imagination with the world. Huh, he realized he hadn’t thought about the whole storytelling thing in a while. It had been ages since he played D&D, even though Will had insisted all summer that they should. Mike never took him up on it— like, why stay in his goodamn basement of all places when there were so many places to be? The mall, the pool, El’s house (of course), the 4th of July fair that was coming up in a few weeks… yeah, no, Mike definitely preferred all that. It was summer, they were supposed to be having fun and getting a social life or whatever. And D&D didn’t really fit in all that. It was a thing of the past now. He felt a little bad for Will, who didn’t seem to want to grow up, but maybe he was just a late bloomer. He’d get there eventually. Hopefully before graduation.
The smell of the pine trees pulled Mike out of his thoughts. He realized he’d been practically driving on automatic the whole way, and he was grateful his memory was so good as to take him through the right path. His surroundings started getting darker the more he immersed himself into the woods, the shadows of the trees dismal and grim against the slightly lighter night sky. It was a moonless night, he realized. It was a good thing he had come here so often, because he was sure he’d get lost otherwise.
As he biked on the dry leaves, more slowly now, he kept his eyes peeled to check for any source of light. Familiar landmarks barely grazed his sight, indicating him to be close to the cabin. There was the pile of branches there, the clearing that way… there. As soon as he located his destination, he got off his bike and left it behind a tree, his legs and hands feeling numb and sweaty. He ruffle his hair with his hand, trying to look more presentable for when El saw him. But, like, who cared? It would be dark anyways, he’d probably wouldn’t even get to see his face. He felt a bit stupid all of a sudden, that he’d done all the dressing up for a meeting in the dark. Well, at least she’d smell the cologne, he supposed.
His Converse shoes made more noise stepping on dry leaves than he would’ve liked. But he figured Hopper was probably asleep, and it’s not like the sound of crunching leaves would wake him up. The forest wasn’t a particularly quiet place after all, so a noise or two shouldn’t weird him out. Mike’s feet walked slower, a bit more careful now, but not helping the bounce in each step as he got closer to El’s window. His hands were shaking, his shoulders tense and treading unsure. The excitement was still there, buried in the pit of his stomach, but a rush of anxiety covered it up. The mix of emotions sped up his breath as he bit his lip and finally reached El’s small window.
This was the moment. He checked whether the window was shut and was relieved it was open a crack. The house seemed quiet— when he’d been closer to the entrance, he thought he heard snoring, which he took as a green light to finally head to the window. Now there, he looked through the window into El’s room and got a glimpse of a bump in the bed (which was opposite to the window), and caught sight of a strand of brown hair. Her brown hair. She’d fallen asleep already. Mike smiled, the image of the knight and the princess coming back to him, thinking of how the knight would wake her and then take her with him to someplace far away, where they could be together forevermore. She would take his hand gracefully, and he’d carry her out of the tower and hoist her down carefully, without a single word but with unspoken affection swirling in the air.
His mouth moved before he could really think, anxious to wake her and hear her voice. “Hey”, he spoke softly, knowing he had to be quiet, but also so he’d wake her gently. He moved forward, walking slowly so as not to alarm his girlfriend, then kneeled next to the bed and whispered. “It’s me. Sorry we couldn’t meet today, um, the family thing was like, absolute chaos, but I’m here now.” Mike’s eyes strained. Wow, it was really fucking dark. He realized he couldn’t even see the patterns on the bed covers, let alone the mere outline of El’s features. His made moved closer to hers, ruffling her soft hair slightly— wow, had she used a new shampoo? It smelled nice. Mike opened his mouth to call out El’s name, but he was interrupted.
“Mike?” El’s voice was rough from sleep, merely a whisper. It sounded hazy, disoriented, but at least she’d recognized him already. Well, at least his voice. He doubted she’d made out the ominous shadow in her bedroom to be him. Come to think of it, what had made him think it was such a great idea to surprise her? She could’ve gotten scared and defended herself and they could’ve gotten caught. God, he was so stupid. What had possessed him that day? Couldn’t he have called El? Hell, he could’ve even told her through the walkies. Well, there was not much to do about it now. He was here, and apparently (hopefully) El had already recognized him. The least they could do was make the most of it, if only a short conversation and then Mike would bike back to his house before midnight.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said tenderly, cupping El’s cheek in his hand and leaning forward, giving her a gentle kiss almost as evidence that this was Mike, the same Mike who had waited all day for this moment to see her, to kiss her.
Something felt different. Maybe kissing in the dark just heightened the sensations, because he’d never felt El’s lips this way— they were a little chapped from biting, less round than usual. Her hair felt somehow softer, silkier, not wavy and unmade like it had been during the whole summer. It wasn’t that different from the usual, but it was clearly not the same. He couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying it, though. The kiss felt familiar, like home— like his sheets, like his seat at school, like his chilly basement and the clothes he liked to wear. It felt right, but still different. It felt deeper somehow, more serious, like whatever they had been doing the summer hadn’t just been making out. This was more serious. Less like a movie, less like the princess and the knight. And he didn’t have a doubt that what he had with El was serious, but he’d never felt it this way before.
But he liked it. He wanted more. Some kind of reassurance that he’d been going the right path being with El. It’s not like he felt it was wrong, but needed something external, something different, an exception to let him know that he was doing the right thing. When he was younger, he’d been the leader, and everyone trusted him to make the right choices. But that feeling of leadership had sort of faded away over time. When Will went missing, he was a firm believer that they could find him, the one who led the Party to find him and had faith in finding his best friend. But time passed, too quickly for comfort, and he started to not feel needed by the Party anymore. They’d grown up. Everyone now had their own thoughts, their conscience, without the need to be led by someone else. And if Mike wasn’t the leader anymore, then what could he be? Where did he fit in with his friends? Nowhere, he thought, not now that they had girlfriends who cared about them and whom they spent time with. And who was he to complain, he who had started the whole girlfriends ordeal? It had been him who kissed El, after all. It had been him who had looked for her for three hundred and something days, and him who proposed all this seeing each other this summer. And it’s not like he didn’t care about his friends anymore—he still saw them, still kept in contact with them—but it wasn’t the same. They didn’t need Mike anymore. Maybe they… they didn’t need each other anymore.
When, why, how had they grown up so fast?
Mike was pulled from his slight trance when he felt El wasn’t kissing back. He freaked out a little, maybe she was still asleep and wasn’t even able to register what was going on. He got more agitated when he heard a groan, indicating that maybe she hadn’t even noticed he was there and had been talking in her sleep. His stomach clenched, worried that he’d stepped over the line—
Wait. That… that groan was deep. Like, low-pitched deep.
His voice trembled, anxious for whoever would answer, deeply hoping he hadn’t made a terrible mistake. “...El?”
“El” stirred, pulling the covers off of her and sitting up in bed groggily, but more consciously than before. Mike’s heart was beating fast in his chest, fidgeting with the M&M’s still crumpled up in his pocket as he tried to figure out the shape of whoever he had kissed (probably while asleep! Jesus Christ). His eyes strained once again, hoping to make sense of the shadow in front of… him…
He could only see a silhouette, but his mind completed it like a puzzle, each piece from a different memory. The shoulders were broad. Arms stronger, bulkier than he remembered. Or maybe it was just the tight shirts he had worn all summer (including now). Hands, delicate but steady, which had been in Mike’s own more times than he could count. Hands he had held during Halloween, in a dim room with a screaming match in the living room just outside. A pale neck, that Mike had stared at more than he’d like to admit, with two moles on the left and another on the right. The skin there was vast and soft, stretching every single day, but with the same three moles decorating it still. This neck, the one his arm had wrapped around in sleepless nights. And Mike couldn’t make out any facial features except two tiny, starry spots of white, barely reflecting the dim blue light from the open window. A chill went down Mike’s spine trying to figure out the emotion those eyes were giving away now, like he was some kind of empath. He’d felt that way before, already knowing what he needed before he even opened his mouth. But now, everything was different. Those eyes would not look at him the same way ever again. Because he’d crossed the line. He’d done the unthinkable, unimaginable, and there were no words he could say to take it back. He knew what his lips tasted like, and as if that wasn’t terrifying in itself, he knew they tasted like childhood and home and joy, the very thing he’d unconsciously been running away from since the sixth of November, almost two years ago.
Mike’s mind completed the puzzle of Will’s body, but realized he couldn’t complete the puzzle of his own. Because a piece that never fit in the first place had been ripped off, folded and bent, and had left an odd hole with sharp edges and curved lines. A film reel rolled, and he realized there was a part that had been cut off at some unknown point, and a scene from another reel had been sloppily taped with an attempt to be inconspicuous about it. And the folds of the tape had bothered him but never manifested themselves as what they were, until this very moment.
“Mike?”
Mike’s body trembled like he was buried in the snow. Will’s voice called to him from above the cold again.
“What are you doing?”