Archive of Our Own

December 15th, 1988

He wakes with a gasp, sitting straight up in bed with the horrible feeling of sweat dripping down his back. Will's body seems to be set into overdrive as he runs a shaky hand through his hair and tries to push the nightmare away. It takes an embarrassingly long while, but eventually he calms down enough to register where he is, and he lets out a sharp breath, sinking back against the pillows. 

The dream still pokes at the forefront of his mind, reminding him of the way Vecna had taken hold of him, the vines that had crept up his arms and legs until he couldn't breathe. The screams of Holly and the other kids that had echoed through his ears. The big issue of it all is that this wasn't a nightmare, it was a reality, and though it's now two years in the past, these stupid memories still plague him every night. 

When it all becomes too much he slips out from under the comforter, quietly pattering down the hallway, past both El and Jonathon's bedrooms and towards the kitchen. He just needs a glass of water, to wash out the memories and remind himself he's not in the Upside Down anymore, but that he's in his kitchen with the dingy overhead light currently washing everything in a soft glow. It shouldn't be as difficult as it is, yet his body can't seem to settle down: his breaths come out shaky and his hands sweat and he can't contain the shivers that wrack through his body. 

He's just about to refill his glass when the door creaks open down the hall and soft footsteps head towards him. "Will? Is that you?" El's voice comes from the hall, and then she's poking her head around the corner, her ponytail swinging lightly as she tilts her head. 

"Yeah. Sorry for waking you up," he mumbles with a grimace. 

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Will mutters, mustering up his strength to send her a weak smile. She obviously doesn't buy it because she steps further into the kitchen, snatching the glass of water from his hands and taking a swig. "Hey!"

"You are lying," she observes, handing him the empty glass back with raised brows. 

"I-I'm not lying!" he sputters, putting the glass in the sink and protectively crossing his arms over his chest. He should've stayed in his room - stayed in his room and looked up at the ceiling until sunrise and he could come out at an unconcerning time of morning where nobody would pry or ask him if he was alright. He's done it hundreds of times before, but for some reason tonight's memories had become too much - he couldn't stand to be in his room anymore. 

"You are. Your eyes are all wide and bulgy, and your arms are crossed. You only do that when you lie," she states matter of factly, entirely too observant. "And it is 2 in the morning and you are awake".

"You're a bit irritating," he replies, shaking his head and uncrossing his arms. "It was just another nightmare, nothing new".

"Will," El sighs, leaning up against the counter with furrowed brows. "I get them too you know, you don't have to try and hide it from anyone, especially not from me. I understand".

Will knows this of course. If anyone were to understand what he was going through it would be his sister, but he still has trouble talking about it, especially considering it's over and there's no reason to bring it up anymore - no reason for him to be so focused on the past. Everyone else seems to have moved on just fine, it's like Hawkins had never been split down the middle - like everything they went through for years could be erased in the matter of one night. 

He wants to reassure El that he's alright, that he appreciates how much she does for him, but he can't seem to get the words out. He feels awkward and embarrassed in a way that makes his whole body clam up. 

Instead, he settles for a distraction. "Wanna watch a movie?" he asks, and he tries to ignore the disappointment that flits across El's face in favor of walking toward the sitting room and plopping down on the sofa. Luckily she follows without further questions and slips a dvd into the console, curling herself up on the other end of the sofa. The opening credits of Dirty Dancing come on and Will throws his head back with a grown. "Seriously?" he whines, rolling his head over to look at his sister who has a bright smile on her face. 

"You shouldn't have let me pick if you were just going to complain," she answers with a giggle, turning all of her attention back to her favorite movie. Will would like to say he spent that rest of the night in quiet annoyance, but he can't help but feel comforted by the familiarity of it all. So when El falls asleep only thirty minutes later he doesn't even get up to turn the movie off, he just leans further back into the sofa until the end credits play and he queues another movie, waiting for day to break.

—-------

December 16th, 1988

It's Friday and his friends are arguing. 

"Back to the Future," Dustin states, the aforementioned movie already in his hands. 

"Empire Strikes Back!" Lucas argues, standing to grab the movie from Dustin who rips it out of reach. 

"No way! We've seen that movie a hundred times!" Max pipes up, and Lucas sends her a betrayed look in which she ignores in favor of picking at her nails, though Will can see the grin on her face. 

"I think we should watch Dirty Dancing," El pipes up amid the chaos and everyone stops to give her a blank look. "What? It's my favorite movie".

"We know," Will grumbles. He doesn't mean to be as grumpy as he feels, but he's exhausted from not sleeping last night and the constant bickering has begun to fray at his nerves. He wishes that his friends could just make up their minds and put a stupid movie on. "Put on Karate Kid," he pipes up and thank god his friends agree, even though El lets out a little noise of disagreement. 

It takes a while, but eventually everyone settles down enough to where the headache that had begun distantly pounding at Will's head could calm. It's not an hour into the movie before everyone has fallen asleep, and Will is left staring blankly at the television screen. The movie is about halfway through now, but he hasn't been following along enough to entirely understand what is going on, so he just watches the colors that flash across the screen as his vision begins to blur. 

He has no idea what time it is, but he knows that it's late enough he should be asleep by now, especially considering he didn't get any sleep last night. However, he can't get his body to relax - he keeps thinking about the previous night's dream and he's terrified that if he lets his body succumb to sleep then he'll be trapped in that memory again. 

Instead, he shimmies off the sofa, trying not to disturb Mike who is curled up asleep on the other end of the sofa, and shuffles upstairs. Will just needs some fresh air, to rid his mind of all thought and remind himself that it's over. He creaks open the Wheeler's front door as quietly as possible, so as not to wake anyone in the house, especially not Ted, or Nancy who's home for winter break, and he plops himself down on the front stoop. The street lamp is a beacon of light along the road, and he focuses on the way it washes the front yard in a soft glow. 

It's an undisclosed amount of time before the door opens back up behind him and someone lets out a soft curse as they trip over the entry. Will doesn't have to turn around to determine that it's Mike, he can tell just from the way he had muttered a quiet 'shit' and inhaled a breath as he righted himself against the doorframe. 

"Will? What are you doing out here?" Mike questions, stepping up next to where he's sitting. The other boy's hair is messy and sticking up on one side and he has creases on the left side of his face from the sofa cushions, yet he's still the most beautiful thing Will has ever seen and he has to look away. He can't bear to gaze upon his best friend like this so late into the night, when everything is soft and pliable and otherworldly. 

"Just needed some air," Will mutters without looking up. 

Mike obviously wants to push, but he seems to restrain himself. He's gotten better at that since Vecna's demise - he doesn't try prying like he used to, digging and digging until Will felt hollow and exposed. Instead, the other boy just plops himself down next to Will and looks out at the yard. 

"It's kinda cold out, how are you out here without a coat?" Mike finally asks, incredulous as he looks Will over. He hadn't really noticed the chill in the air to be honest, he had been too focused on chasing the panic away. "Here, take this," Mike says as he begins pulling his own coat off. 

Will just stares at the offered item in confusion, his brain unable to comprehend the fact that Mike Wheeler is offering him his coat, but eventually he catches up and grabs it from the boy's hands. Their fingers brush in the process and a lick of fire crawls up the entirety of his arm as he slides into the sleeves. 

"Thanks," he whispers, not daring to meet his friend's eyes. Mike just knocks their shoulders together in response and Will can feel it, can feel every part of Mike, and he doesn't know whether he wants to move away or sink into the touch and never escape. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mike finally asks, obviously unable to hold himself back any longer. Will isn't even mad about it, he's just exhausted at this point, and he doesn't know if it's the softness of night or the fact that he hasn't slept in days, but he feels something inside of him unclick. 

"I'm terrified to sleep," he announces, wringing his hands nervously. He hasn't talked to anyone about this exactly and he has no idea how to go about it, but he has to try. "I've been having nightmares...no - not nightmares, memories. Every time I close my eyes I'm brought back to the Upside Down, to Vecna, and I never know how to get out. Last night it was when Holly was missing, and I tried so hard to get to her, but every time I got close the vines would close around me and I couldn't breathe," Will explains, his breath beginning to quicken at the recollection. 

He still remembers how devastated Mike and Nancy had been at the time - how all Will had wanted to do was help and use what little control he had over Vecna to get to Holly. He also remembers the exact moment when it had all flipped and that control had slipped away. 

"God, Will, I can't imagine," Mike breathes, shaking his head dejectedly. "I know it doesn't help anything, but she's just upstairs. She's here and Vecna's gone. It's over".

"I know that, I do. But every night I get reminded and it's like I'm really back there," Will explains, his voice cracking slightly towards the end. 

It doesn't seem to matter how many times he sees Holly, how many times he's reassured that she's fine, it never seems to be enough. The memories come back each night with more vengeance, taking his mind and body hostage until he's finally able to wake up and spend another sleepless night trying not to think. 

"Come with me. I want to show you something," Mike says suddenly, standing to his feet and stretching a hand out to Will. He immediately grabs it without thought and follows his friend back into the house. 

Mike takes him upstairs this time, toward where Will knows to be his room, and he lifts a finger to his lips as they pass by Holly and his parent's rooms. Once they finally reach the solace of Mike's own bedroom, Mike lets go of Will's hand and moves to dig around in his desk in search of something. 

Will just settles himself on the bed, his limbs too tired to stay standing any longer. It's not a moment later before Mike is throwing himself onto the bed next to Will, a shabby old notebook gripped tightly in his hands. "Look at this," he says, placing the object into Will's own clammy hands. 

He flips through the pages slowly, taking in every single word that dates back all the way to the day of Will's disappearance in 1983. Mike seems to have kept a diary of sorts, of every time he's felt overwhelmed or sad or angry. The pages contain such unbridled and pure emotion that Will feels as though he's rifling through his friend's thoughts, and it's such an intimate moment that he feels his chest crack down the middle. Mike just sits stone still next to him, refusing to meet Will's eye as he stares straight ahead, obviously nervous. 

"Why are you showing me this?" Will finally asks once he reaches the most recent page, the date labeled 'December 15th, 1988'. 

"I remember too," Mike explains, finally moving from his reverie to turn toward Will shyly. "I remember, and whenever it becomes too much I write it in there and it makes me feel better, even if it's just for a little bit. I don't get nightmares anymore, but sometimes I get so overwhelmed by the memories that I have to put them anywhere but in my head". 

Will just stares at his best friend in awe, unable to move or think or focus on anything other than Mike Mike Mike. Because he feels so understood at this moment - so utterly known, and for the first time in months it feels like he's not alone. And it makes no sense because it's no different from his talk with El, but it's something about the intensity with which Mike expresses himself that makes the moment feel pivotal. 

"Thank you," is all Will can manage to say. 

"You have nothing to thank me for, I just wanted you to know that I'm here. And I may not get it, but I'm struggling too. Sometimes it feels like everyone has moved on and I'm stuck in these moments - these memories - but I have to remind myself that's not true," Mike reveals, staring intensely at Will like he's trying to convey something important. 

"I guess I just assumed everyone else had moved on. I've just felt alone, and it's probably selfish of me to assume that, but I can't help it," Will explains after a moment of tense silence. Mike just nods his head in understanding, pushing his knee into Will's. Their closeness suddenly becomes stark, and Will feels his cheeks heat. 

"I'm here," Mike answers earnestly, offering Will a lopsided smile. "Now, do you wanna go back downstairs? Or we could stay up here. Or we could go back outside if you wan-"

"Mike. It's fine, we can go to the basement," Will interrupts with a soft laugh, standing with a groan. "I'm exhausted so hopefully I'll actually be able to fall asleep". 

"I'll turn a movie on for us," Mike suggests, making his way down the hall. "What do you want to watch?"

"I'm surprised you're not forcing us to watch Tron," Will jokes. 

"Eh, we watched that last week. It's your pick now". 

"I picked earlier," he reminds him as they reach the basement stairs. 

"Yeah, well you pick again. I'm too tired to decide," Mike declares, already making his way down the stairs and toward the television, having to precariously step over both Dustin and El who are sprawled across the floor. "Well, what's it going to be?" Mike asks once Will makes it to the bottom of the steps, looking over at him expectantly. 

"Labyrinth".

"Good choice," he states, placing said movie into the dvd player before hopping his way back over to the sofa where Will has already made himself comfortable, having stolen Mike's blanket. "Hey, that's mine," he argues softly, but Will can see a smile poking its way through. 

Mike decides that it would be a good idea to share the blanket, meaning that entirely too many parts of their bodies are touching and Will feels like he's on fire. But he also has no desire to move, so he supposes he just has to give in to the consequences. 

It's not long before Will feels his eyelids begin to droop, and a glance over at Mike confirms that he's still awake, which comforts him for some strange reason. He lets sleep overcome him, and for the first time in months he makes it the whole night without a single nightmare. 

When he wakes the next morning it's to the shuffles and sleepy whispers of his friends as they gather their things. Lucas and Mike are arguing quietly about something and Max is complaining about how it's too early in the morning for it. 

Will is entirely too comfortable where he lies listening to the quiet voices, content to keep his eyes shut, cuddling up to the warmth that is radiating at his side. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't actually know what that solid warmth next to him is, but he can't bring himself to care much considering he's still so exhausted. Time passes slowly, in a syrupy haze, until he feels a light tap on his shoulder and realizes he must have fallen back asleep. 

"Will," a honeyed voice calls softly, breaking through his subconscious. "Will, wake up". 

It takes Will longer than he'd like to admit to open his eyes and fully understand where he is and what is happening, but when he does it's to find dark brown eyes only inches from his own. 

He startles a bit, but doesn't move away because he immediately clocks that it's Mike, and that's fine because Mike is comfortable and so beautiful in the light that streams in from the basement window. Will stares for longer than would probably be considered appropriate, but Mike doesn't seem to mind, he just looks right back with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"What time is it?" Will finally manages to croak a few minutes later. He sweeps his gaze across the room to find that all of their friends must have already left. 

"It's around 11," Mike replies with a grin, as if he knows something Will doesn't, and it makes his stomach erupt with nervous butterflies. It is a bit shocking to find out he slept in so late, and then it hits him all at once: he slept. He didn't just sleep, but he slept through the entire night without a single nightmare. 

He sits up immediately, forcing Mike, who was hovering over him, to lean back a bit. "I-I slept," Will manages to say, staring at his friend with wide eyes. He has no idea how he managed it, but the last thing he really remembers was falling asleep against a warm weight at his side and then he was gone to the world. "Mike, I slept! That's the first time in months that I've made it through the night". 

"Months?" Mike questions incredulously, a frown pulling at his brows in what Will can only assume is concern, and it makes something inside of him wriggle uncomfortably. "Will, why didn't you say anything before now?"

"I-I didn't think it was that big a deal. Plus I've been managing fine, I sleep in spurts and then when the memories become too much I just stay awake. I've been fine," he explains. Upon seeing Mike's glare he adds, "But I slept last night". 

The other boy lets out a deep sigh and leans back against the cushions, running a hand through his messy hair as if thinking intensely about something. "Why do you think last night was different? Maybe if we can figure out what might have helped, we can use it in the future". 

Will goes still as he thinks about it, because there's really only one explanation for it and he cannot let Mike know what it is. It would quite possibly be the most embarrassing thing that could happen in his seventeen years of living. Instead of ruining his own reputation and saying this aloud, he just shrugs and refuses to look his friend in the eye, opting to stare down at his hands. 

"I dunno," he mutters. "I mean it could be anything, there's really no way to tell". 

"Well we just have to think about what you did last night and compare it to every other night before. I mean obviously we were at my house, so that could be something," Mike begins, listing things off on his fingers. "We had everyone here together, you slept on the sofa instead of a bed, I...I was next to you all night," he finishes, his cheeks flushing as he turns his head to look at Will. 

This is the worst case scenario. 

"Mike..." he begins, but his friend has a determined look in his eyes and Will knows he's not going to be able to talk him down from whatever idea he's come up with. 

"Alright. We're just going to have to do a few test runs," he declares, standing from his seat and clapping his hands together once. "We'll change one thing every night until we're able to figure out what it is specifically that keeps the memories away". 

"What if it's none of those things you listed?" Will fights back weakly, already knowing he won't be able to change Mike's mind. "Maybe it was just a fluke, a one off thing because I was so tired". 

"Well there's only one way to find out," Mike states, his brows raised in challenge. 

And Will unfortunately has no power over himself when it comes to Mike, so he just lets out a heavy sigh and agrees, because of-fucking-course he does.

—-------

Night One - December 17th, 1988

It's the next night and Will has set himself up on the sofa in his sitting room, his legs crammed up against the cushions. His mom had come in earlier in the night to ask him what the hell he was doing, in which he had had to come up with some sort of excuse as to why he had transferred from his bed to the couch. It's always hard lying to his mom, but Will really doesn't have it in him to listen to her fret and worry about him, so he doesn't feel too bad about the white lie. 

Now, he finds himself wedged on the too small couch with his entire family already asleep because it's currently three in the morning and Will is terrified to close his eyes. The past night had emboldened him a bit, reassured him that he could sleep, but it didn't take away the fear. He knows that realistically the only way to 'fix' anything is to just dive in head first, but every time he closes his eyes his breathing picks up and his hands start sweating and he feels like he could run a marathon with the amount of pent up energy thrumming through him. 

He spends the rest of the night staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his living room, questioning his life and wondering what is wrong with him. The thoughts weigh him down the closer morning comes and at some point he just gives up and returns to his room, settling himself at his desk with his walkman and a sketchbook, giving into the fact that he will not be sleeping tonight. 

He's not even disappointed for himself, but rather for Mike who he knows will question him at school tomorrow, and who he will inevitably have to let down when this plan doesn't work. It makes Will feel like a failure.

--

Night Two - December 18th, 1988

Mike had taken the news surprisingly well, he had even sported a small self-satisfied smile on his face when Will had told him. He had only shrugged and told him that Will was to come over to the Wheeler house that night before dinner. 

Will doesn't know how to feel about this to be honest, he had been hoping Mike would give up on the whole 'trying to fix whatever the hell is wrong with Will' thing, but alas he should've known that Mike Wheeler would never give up that easily. So Will now finds himself on the Wheeler's front porch, listening to the rushed footsteps making their way toward the door. 

"Hey!" Mike beams as he throws the door open, immediately ushering Will inside with a hand placed deliberately on the dip of his back. Will has to repress a shiver. "Mom made lasagna, which I know is your favorite". 

Will can't argue with that because he immediately feels his mouth begin to water at the delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen. When he walks in it's to see Mrs Wheeler taking a dish out of the oven, her floral oven mitts blocking her hands from getting burnt in the process, and she looks over her shoulder to smile warmly at Will. 

"Hi sweetie! I heard you're staying the night tonight," she greets. Will can't lie, he does feel a bit bad, and a lot surprised, at the fact that Mr and Mrs Wheeler are letting him stay the night on a Monday, but Mike had vehemently reassured him that they didn't care. He was seemingly correct, because Mrs Wheeler seems happy enough to see him, and Mr Wheeler hasn't so much as looked up from his crossword since Will came in. 

"Have a seat, dinner will be ready in just a sec," Mrs Wheeler says, waving the two boys away. 

Will plops himself down next to Holly, who offers him a warm smile before returning to the book she had been reading. Will feels relief wash through him at the sight of the girl, and no matter how many times he's reassured that she's safe, it never quite seems to be enough. He can still remember so vividly her broken and terrified expression when they had rescued her from the Upside Down, so much like Will's own had been so many years ago. 

Mike bumps his knee against Will's under the table and he snaps out of his thoughts, throwing the other boy a reassuring smile. 

Mike seems to understand what Will is thinking and he reaches his hand over to give Will's knee a quick squeeze, making all of the breath in his body release in a harsh wheeze. He still hasn't gotten used to how open Mike has become with his touches, especially considering how guarded he had been in California and even the months after the Byers' had moved back. But after they had killed Vecna it's as if something in the other boy had flipped - he was no longer afraid to touch Will anymore, to make eye contact or initiate conversation. It's as if the tense, angry boy from two years ago had never been at all. 

Dinner is nice, it feels nostalgic and reminds Will of all the times he used to spend dinners and nights at the Wheeler house. It's not as though these instances don't happen anymore, they've just become less frequent since everything happened, and especially now that they're in their senior year of high school, and instead of DnD campaigns being what they worry about, it's college applications and SAT scores. 

Luckily tonight isn't the night where Will has to share a bed with Mike (yes, that is one of Mike's criteria, and no Will is not going to survive it) so he gets himself set up in the basement on an old blowup mattress. He could technically sleep on the sofa, but Mike thought that this could mess up the results considering last night's outcome, so Will agrees to sleep on the flimsy old mattress that has been a part of the Wheeler family since before Will even knew them. 

Mike ambles down the stairs a few minutes later, a pillow tucked under one arm, and a blanket he must have gotten from his own bed slung over the other. 

"Okay, so we'll try this and if it doesn't work then tomorrow we move to my bed. Obviously, if you need anything come and get me and we'll pretend it won't mess up the results," he says with a wink and a soft smile. He's looking Will over like he wants to say something else but firmly keeps his mouth shut, his jaw twitching a bit with the effort. 

Will knows for a fact that he won't be waking Mike up, no matter how bad the nightmares get, but he gives a quick nod anyway and plops himself onto the mattress, the air sloughing out of it unit his butt meets the floor. It won't be the most comfortable, but he's not expecting to sleep anyway so he'll most likely eventually end up on the sofa. 

Mike walks over and dumps the blanket and pillow next to Will, leaning forward as though to touch him before seemingly thinking better of it and drawing back up to his full height. He offers another smile, though this one is a bit strained. 

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" he double-checks for the hundredth time. All throughout dinner and then them getting ready for bed, he had asked the question over and over and over again. It would normally grind on Will's nerves, but Mike has always been a worrier so he's entirely too used to it at this point. 

He just cracks a smile and nods his head in reassurance. "I'll be fine, Mike. It's just one night and I've faced much worse," he reminds him. Mike's mouth immediately fixes into a frown at the words, but it's the truth and Will's tired of pretending like the past hasn't affected him the way that it has. "Goodnight," he adds after a moment of tense silence, and that seems to snap his friend out of it as he murmurs a soft 'goodnight' in return, shuffling slowly up the stairs. 

He looks back at Will a few times, as if waiting for him to change his mind, but he never does and eventually Mike reaches the top and slips through the door, shutting it with a soft click. This leaves Will alone with his thoughts, which is never a good thing, but at this moment he breathes a sigh of relief. 

Sometimes Mike can be...a lot - a bit overbearing, a bit overprotective, and so, so wonderful that it makes something in Will soften and turn to mush. It's the exact thing he's been trying to repress for the past four years of his life, and probably more if he's being honest with himself. There's something about Mike that is undeniable in a way, like Will has always been destined to love him. It makes him feel a bit sick if he thinks about it for too long, so he pushes it away. 

He had positioned himself so that he would be near the light switch, and so now he's able to just stretch an arm up and flip the light off, shrouding himself in darkness. He usually sleeps with some sort of light on, whether that be the light from the hall or a lamp by his bedside, it has always helped to calm his nerves. Even before the Upside Down he hadn't liked the dark - it casts too many shadows and leaves too much up to the imagination. But ever since he had been taken, it reminds him of the deep crevices of the Upside Down, of how Vecna had made sure to prey on every weakness Will had, one of those being his discomfort for the dark. 

Now, he just closes his eyes against it and tries to fight the thoughts away, tries to focus on sleep because he's exhausted from the failed night before. He knows that it's unlikely he'll be able to fall asleep tonight, but it's worth a try and he still feels that guilt twinging in his chest when he thinks of letting Mike down again, even though he hadn't seemed too upset by the results of last night. 

Unfortunately, the clock rings three and he still is unable to put his mind at rest - the thoughts and fear running rampant through his mind every time he closes his eyes. Eventually he gives up and moves to the couch, bringing the blanket with him because it smells like Mike and makes him feel safe. He puts on a movie and sinks into the cushions, trying and failing to push the guilt and anger away. 

He just wishes he were normal. 

--

Night Three - December 19th, 1988

Will is tucked into bed beside Mike, trying and failing to keep his breathing even as his friend reaches over to switch off the bedside lamp. There's a little R2D2 nightlight in the corner that illuminates the room just enough to keep the shadows away, and he's immensely grateful for it because he already has far too much to worry about at the moment. 

This morning when Mike had stumbled down the stairs at a surprisingly early time for him, he had had a nervous tension surrounding him, his expectant gaze immediately falling on Will. 

"Did it work?" he had asked a bit nervously, glancing over to the blow up mattress abandoned on the floor. 

Will had let out a long sigh, the weight of the past two nights falling heavy on his shoulders. "No," he had muttered, refusing to look his friend in the eye.

Mike had just moved to sit next to him on the couch, throwing an arm around his shoulder. Will tried to be normal about the touch, tried not to think of all the implications it could have, and just focused on the fact that his friend was trying to comfort him. It didn't work. 

"It's alright," Mike had states, his tone much brighter than before, and it confused Will a bit, he had expected the other boy to be dejected, to maybe even decide now was a good time to give up. "Tonight's the night, I can feel it," he had said instead, a sweet smile gracing his face as he knocked their shoulders together in encouragement. 

Will had curled into himself a bit, trying to shrink away from the attention and the touch as it became too much, but of course Mike didn't notice. He never notices. Instead, he had grabbed Will's wrist and pulled him up from the sofa and toward the kitchen where the sweet smells of eggs and sausage wafted down the stairs. 

Now, it's the second to final "trial" as Mike has begun to deem them, and Will knows for a fact he will not be sleeping a wink tonight. His body is wired and his nerves are frayed and Mike is entirely too close. The other boy seems to be completely fine with the situation, acting as though they do this all the time even though the last time they shared a bed was in elementary school and they had yet to fill into their bodies. 

Now they're seventeen and Will's shoulders are broader than they were before and Mike's legs are longer where they poke out from the blankets. This means that they're touching in some form or another no matter what position Will moves himself in. 

It's on his third toss that Mike finally lets out an irritated huff and grabs Will's left arm, making him freeze. "Will you hold still?" the other boy complains, his voice a bit strained. Will can just make out his expression in the dim lighting of the room and finds that Mike's brows are pinched - he wants to reach out and smooth them. 

"Sorry," he murmurs instead, clamping his fists together to keep himself from doing anything stupid. "I can't get comfortable".

"Here," Mike says, rolling onto his back and tossing his arm over Will, pulling him close until he has nowhere left to put his head but on his friend's chest. Will lets out a harsh breath, squeezing his eyes shut at the sudden onslaught of touch. Mike wiggles around a bit more and Will thinks he might die, until finally the other boy gets comfortable and lets out a satisfied sigh. "Better?"

"Yeah," Will croaks, his voice cracking incriminatingly. It is not better, actually it is much, much worse, because now they're touching in so many places and in so many ways that Will can't tell where he ends and where Mike begins. It makes his entire body feel like it's on fire and the sensations are so much, so overwhelming that he has to manually breathe so as not to suffocate to death. 

Will has no idea how long they lay like that for - time seems to cease to exist when it's just the two of them tucked into Mike's twin bed. The seconds seem to drag on and the minutes seem to fly by, until Will hears the soft snores coming from the boy next to him. He glances over to find that Mike has fallen asleep, his mouth slack and his head lolled to the side a bit. His grip on Will has ceased to let up, and without the knowledge of possible eyes or ears, Will finally lets himself relax, releasing a soft breath and sinking deeper into the other boy's chest. 

Mike has gotten broader than he used to be, and that's not to say he isn't still the gangly boy he's always been, with too long limbs that he never quite seems to have full control of, but now they have filled out a bit. He's more sinewy rather than noodly, and it makes something in Will's stomach flutter uncomfortably. 

He truly didn't think he'd be able to fall asleep, but a few minutes later he feels his eyelids begin to droop. He can sense muffled anxiety in the back of his head, but the exhaustion is so overwhelming that it pushes all thought away until the only thing in Will's mind is the touch of the boy next to him, the soft puffs of air from his mouth, and the grip he still has on Will's shoulder. Eventually, his eyes shut and his brain turns off and he sinks into sleep with nothing on his mind but Mike. 

He has no idea what time it is when he wakes, but when he opens his eyes it's to find Mike already looking back at him with a soft smile. His brain acknowledges that he should probably be uncomfortable by this or at least nervous, but all Will can manage to do is smile right back. 

"You slept," Mike states softly, his voice slightly crackly from sleep. It sends a shiver up Will's spine. 

"I did," he whispers back, letting his eyes flutter shut again. He feels so warm and so comfortable tucked up against the wall, with Mike's leg thrown over his own. 

"I think we finally cracked the code," Mike replies with satisfaction ringing through his voice. Will snaps his eyes back open at this because shit if that isn't incriminating as hell. Of course he was able to sleep with Mike here, he's utterly in love with the man, and now his best friend is going to think he's some sort of freak who is entirely too co-dependent. 

"I-"

"Will, relax," Mike soothes, reaching a hand out to push Will's hair back from his face. "I can hear you, like, freaking out".

"And how are you able to do that?" he quips back weakly, shivering slightly at his friend's touch. Mike is looking back at him with such an intense stare that if Will were currently standing, he's pretty sure he would swoon like some lovesick maiden. 

"Because I am basically an expert in the ability of reading Will Byers' mind," he states ominously, wiggling his brows a bit to make Will chuckle - it works. "But, seriously, stop worrying. Do you know what this means?"

"What?"

"We get to have sleepovers like all the time. In the name of medicine," he says with a stupid grin. His smile is a bit crooked, making the left side of his mouth tilt higher than the right and it's so charming that Will wants to gouge his eyes out so he doesn't have to look at it any longer. 

"I don't think that's how it works," Will combats with a roll of his eyes. "You really think our parents are going to believe that?"

"Well it's true!" Mike squawks indignantly. "And who cares, we'll be living together in like four months anyway". 

That is true, and Will has been trying not to think about this fact for the entirety of their senior year. Now it floats glaringly on the horizon, and he knows that he won't be able to ignore it for much longer. He had of course agreed to rooming with Mike when they got into Purdue - there would never be a world in which Will could deny his best friend anything, especially not that. So he had agreed and decided that he would face the consequences when they came, and well...they seem to have just hit him square in the face. 

"Ha, that's true," he gets out, his voice a bit too squeaky for his likings. "Are you not like - weirded out by this? The fact that I apparently need you to sleep?" he asks, because he has to. He needs to know if Mike is just amusing him because he pities him or if he truly doesn't find this strange. 

"I mean it's a bit shocking, but like - in a good way, you know? Because that just means you feel comfortable around me, and that's all I've wanted for you since I asked you to be my friend in kindergarten," he speaks so earnestly, his eyes never leaving Will's, and it makes Will's chest ache. "I want you - I want you to be comfortable with me, Will". 

"I am. Of course I am, I mean if this whole thing is anything to go off of then I'm pretty sure it's glaringly obvious how much I like yo-" he cuts himself off abruptly, his face hearing in a vicious blush. Mike just stares back at him, his mouth hanging slightly ajar. What the fuck has Will just done? He needs to back pedal immediately. "I mean, obviously I like you, you're my best friend. I just mean - you know, like, um..."

"Will," Mike mercifully interrupts him, a small smile on his face. Will immediately snaps his mouth shut and stares at the other boy in horror. "I like you too," he confesses softly, lifting a hand put to caress his cheek. 

"Well I sure hope so," Will jokes weakly, his cheeks stinging pink. 

"No, I mean I like you," Mike reiterates, widening his eyes a bit as if he can telepathically communicate to Will what he's trying to say. But that can't be right, Mike can't be confessing his feelings right now. It's all a big misunderstanding, of course Mike likes him or else he wouldn't have designated so many years to being Will's best friend. It's just a misunderstanding. 

"Yeah, I know Mike," Will reassures with a weak smile, refusing to meet his friend's eyes, to see the oblivious look the other boy always seems to be sporting. "I would hope you like me or else all these years would have been a bit awkwar-"

"Will, I'm in love with you!" Mike interrupts a bit too loudly for the quiet of the morning. His cheeks are bright red and he's panting a bit as if he's just run up a flight of stairs. But he's so beautiful and Will feels like his brain is broken. 

"You - what?"

"I'm in love with you," he says again, his voice straining a bit and his brows creased in anxiety. Will can't help himself when he reaches a hand up to smooth the nerves away with the tip of his finger, feeling the soft skin of Mike underneath his touch. It's intoxicating. 

"How?"

"What do you mean how?" Mike asks incredulously, not moving away from where Will's touch still lingers on his face. "You are my favorite person in the entire world, Will. I genuinely can't imagine not being in love with you. It's you, for me it's always been and always will be you". 

Will feels like his chest has cracked down the middle and every feeling - every fear, every desire, every ounce of love - has come spewing out. He doesn't even want to push it back in this time, instead he lets it wash over him, settling warmly through his limbs. He can feel a euphoric grin taking over his face, and his hands move to grip onto both of Mike's cheeks. 

The other boy doesn't even flinch, his eyes unwavering from where they stare at Will. Mike lets out a harsh breath, the warmth of it fanning over Will's face, and he has a sudden need to press his lips to the other boy's. 

He leans forward slowly at first, allowing Mike to change his mind if he so desires, but the other boy immediately surges forward when he realizes what it is that Will wants. Their lips crash together and everything in Will's mind goes blank - it's just a steady radio frequency that is occasionally interrupted by the thought of Mike and lips and more. 

Mike is pliant under where Will's hands have moved to grip his hair, not pulling, but just holding on. The other boy's hands have not settled once since landing on Will, they move from his neck to his shoulders to his hips and back up again, his fingers dragging along skin. 

Will can't seem to control himself any longer, all of his restraint and reservations throughout the years thrown out the window in a matter of seconds. He surges farther forward, pushing up onto an elbow to lean a bit over Mike who moves complacently under him. The other boy runs his tongue along Will's lips and a surge of heat rushes through him - he falls on top of Mike with a deep sigh, letting him take his weight. 

They stay like that for an unknown amount of time, the minutes inching by in a blurry and intoxicating haze of kisses, gasps, and touches. Mike has proved to be an extremely proficient kisser, even better than Will's hidden fantasies had described, and he leads Will in a way that has him seemingly radiating confidence. It's entirely too attractive. 

They eventually do break up in need of air, which Will thinks is extremely upsetting considering Mike had just bit his lip just so, but he pulls back anyway, gasping for air. Mike doesn't let him go too far, keeping a firm hold on Will's hips, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against where his shirt has ridden up. 

"Mike-" Will breathes, bringing his hands up to the other boy's face again, just to feel the way the grin breaks across his features, bringing a soft glint to his eyes. "Fuck, I love you".

Mike pauses for a moment, seemingly surprised by the declaration. "Really?" he whispers in a voice that is entirely too unsure for Will's likings. 

"Of course, Mike. I've loved you since the moment I met you. There hasn't been a single moment in my life that hasn't consisted solely of you. We're tethered, you and I, and I tried to push it away for so long but I can't anymore. I refuse to," Will speaks as confidently as he can, refusing to let his eyes veer away from where Mike's face has lit up. 

"Ugh, you're so perfect," the other boy states, his cheeks flushing a bright red that captures Will's attention entirely. Mike brushes a hand softly through his hair, Will immediately leaning into the touch. "You're never allowed to sleep anywhere else ever again," he states suddenly. 

Will lets out a deep chuckle, shaking his head lightly. He can't fathom not sharing a bed with Mike every night, it's ludicrous. "Obviously," he answers with a cheeky smile, leaning in to kiss the other boy firmly, Mike's lips refusing to cease in their ever present smile. 

"Be my boyfriend," Mike says against his lips, not a question because it's inevitable that Will will agree. 

"Obviously," he murmurs again, leaning in further so that Mike (his boyfriend) will stop talking.