Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Will blinks, rubbing the backs of his knuckles against his eyes until little bursts of color dance behind his lids. The drowsiness still clings to his body, his jaw stretching with a silent yawn, socked toes digging into Dustin's carpet.

Down the hall, he can hear the TV running, Ms. Henderson letting out a laugh here and there.

"Should we wake them? I can go get a bowl- I think that should be enough water."

Mike's voice curls around his ear, breath hot against the nape of his neck. It sends a shiver through him, his stomach giving a pleasant little flip. Will doesn't let himself focus on it, pressing his fingertips to his mouth and trying to stiffle down a sleepy snort.

"Maybe," Will whispers through the gaps of his fingers.

In front of them, Dustin chokes on another snore, and Lucas' leg twitching in response. Will isn't quite sure how they could have possibly gotten themselves in that position, sleeping head to toe, their backs snugly pressed against each other's legs.

Lucas is sleeping on his side, his face smushed against the wall, a pillow held securely to his ear with a limp hand. Upside down, Dustin's neck is crooked against the footboard, one of Lucas' legs straight out and trapped between Dustin's arms. Each snore makes Lucas' leg shake, and each heavy exhale pushes out air onto Lucas' toes, where they hover beneath Dustin's face. When he looks closer, one of Dustin's arms seems a bit purple, half under his body with loose fingers gripping Lucas' leg hair.

Their backs are both bare, only wearing boxers, and Will doesn't even want to imagine the amount of sweat stuck between them.

Another long snore, and Lucas' whole body twitches like he's been jolted, his shoulder bumping the wall before relaxing again.

"They kind of look like sardines," Mike murmurs, thoughtful.

Will lets out a small snort, hand curling into a fist so he can dig his knuckles into his lips, trying to choke it down and stay quiet. There's a puff of breath against his ear, an answering laugh, high pitched.

Will finds himself turning instinctively, like an animal being offered treats. His chin tilts up, head leaning back, glancing over his shoulder. Mike was closer than Will expected. It was hard to tell, when the heat of his body was too similar to the warmth in the air, the kind that made wearing socks nearly unbearable.

If Will were to push up on his toes ever so slightly, he's sure that they could brush noses. Mike doesn't lean back, so Will doesn't either, letting his feet root themselves to the ground.

Will's eyes wander before he can help it, down to maroon lips, chapped and torn a bit on the bottom. There's a a few splits, red like they'd bled, probably still pained and hurting. Will's stomach tightens, Mike's tongue darting out quickly to wet them. Will wonders if he tasted copper or just skin. He doesn't ask.

One of Mike's hands raise, moving to scratch at the back of his neck, and Will can't bring himself to look away, focused on the way his nails dig into the shorter hairs at his nape. Mike's chin tilts down ever so slightly, closing a little bit of distance, his curls ruffled and puffed up at the top of his head, a stiff wave sticking up behind one ear and another hanging loose behind the other. He looks almost like a dog that had just climed out from beneath a blanket.

"Right?" Mike murmurs, his head tilting ever so slightly, face bare without glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose.

Being this close, Will can see a small scar right there instead, faint and trailing to his cheek, freckles decorating the skin and smothering the pink gash, leaving it barely visible.

Will's brows furrow.

He's never noticed it before, and Will can't come up with a reason for the mark, despite having known Mike his whole life. He's seen Mike through every phase since childhood, he's seen the gaps in his gums and kept the offered teeth despite it being weird to others, and he's seen his hair straightened and short and long, he's seen rings on his fingers and he's seen temporary tattoos on his arms.

Will's never seen Mike with a scar on his face. Then again, it's been a long time since he's gotten him this close, their breaths mingling.

It makes Mike look older, more handsome. Will's used to being endeared over a Mike that wipes his boogers on his sleeves and whines when his mom gels down his cowlick, not feeling heat thump down his spine from a Mike with stubble he forgets to shave and wide shoulders tapering off into slim hips.

"Aren't I right, Will?" Mike prompts, dark eyes flicking down and lingering for a second before coming back up to Will's own.

Will licks his lips, mouth dry. "You-…"

"Hm?" Mike hums in question, waiting, eyebrows pulling together in the middle.

"When have you ever had sardines?"

"Mom used to make these weird little cheese and fish plates whenever her yoga friends came over." Mike's nose wrinkles. "She calls them charcuterie- I don't know. It's a whole thing."

"And you ate that? Cheese and canned fish?" Will wispers back, his voice horrified.

"The mustard helped, it mostly just tasted like salt."

Will pulls a face, planting a hand against Mike's shoulder and giving him an exaggerated shove. "Eugh-"

Mike let's out a sharp laugh, catching Will's wrist before he can fully step back. He gives a little tug, pulling Will back into his orbit. "I was like, seven-"

"What seven year old likes mustard?"

"Is the mustard really your problem here?"

Will pauses and Mike's thumb brushes along the inside of his wrist, pressing against his pulse. "…Yeah. You couldn't have gone with barbecue?"

"Barbecue sauce tastes like cigarette smoke." Mike's voice is too low for such a silly statement, his eyes slightly lidded, looking down at him.

"You've never smoked a day in your life." Mike doesn't respond, shrugging a single shoulder. Will rolls his eyes instinctively and he takes a step back, Mike's grip tightening, keeping him in place.

"Where are you going?"

"I have a camera in my suitcase and Dustin's alarm is set for ten…" Will trails off.

"The one Jonathan gave you?"

"Well- yeah. I wanted to take some memories back with us. You know, like this one?"

Mike's face lights up, his eyebrows shooting upwards, lips breaking into a grin. "Oh my God. Will, you're a genius."

The compliment washes over his skin like water, dipping into his pores and making them sing. Will ducks his head, trying to smother the smile pulling at his mouth. Mike's hands drop to his shoulders, settling there with a heavy warmth. It's a bit unbearable with the humid air, but Will pushes up on his toes instinctively to lean into it. Mike squeezes once before spinning him around, steering him out into the hallway.

"Come on- we need to hurry before Dustin- like- farts and wakes Lucas up, or something."

A sharp snort leaves Will's lips, but he lets Mike guide him anyway. A bad idea, since Mike was currently without his glasses and Ms. Henderson seemed to be running a pet store.

A lous hiss cuts through the air, Will's foot stepping directly the tip of an orange tail. He jumps back, eyes wide, and the kitten bolts down the hallway and down the stairs, Will yelping in alarm.

"Shit-"

"Got you." Mike's hands shift quickly, one gripping his side and the other catching him around the elbow, steadying him before he could stumble into the wall. Momentum carries Will another half-step, his back slamming into Mike's chest. Mike tugs him one extra inch, his chin brushing against the crown of Will's head. "You okay?"

Will's heart races, breath coming in fast. "Do you think I hurt them?"

Mike's fingers tighten against him reassuringly, letting out a low hum that vibrates through his chest. Will can feel it rumble through his bones from where they're connected. "No, she's probably just a bit scared."

Will exhales, long and slow, his eyes fluttering closed. "Okay. Okay, Good."

"Come on," Mike murmurs.

His left leg slides forward, slipping it's way between Will's own, spreading his legs slightly. The curve of his toe drags along the side of Will's foot where he's sensitive, nudging. Will's thigh muscles tense for a moment, lightheaded.

"Mike," he breathes.

"Will." Mike's other foot presses against the heel of Will's sock, pushing a little, forcing him to stumble forward a step. "What happened to getting that camera?"

"Huh?" Will whispers, a voice in his head screaming at him. It pulls at the back of his mind, telling him not to be stupid.

Mike shifts forward, his chest pushing against Will's back, making him waddle for a second before rationality hits him quickly, and Will starts walking again, Mike hovering behind him.

"The camera? You had to survive that ferocious tiger to tell the tale, so you might as well complete your quest."

Will chokes, shaking his head ever so slightly. "What? I'm pretty sure you're the only storyteller here."

"Ah, but what if I've been slain?"

"Oh no," Will murmurs, and Mike presses his grin into Will's curls. Will tries not to focus on it, his hand lifting to open the door, but Mike's hand slides off his elbow to grip the doorknob, his body pressed snug against Will's from behind, twisting it for him.

"You have to carry tales of us to the young burdened souls of the realm, cleric. How will you do that if I lose you in battle to such a feline beast?" Mike's words trail against his ear, and for just a second Will can feel the skin touch, wet lips making a second of contact.

Will's brain lags for a moment, before he instinctively jolts his elbow back, digging it into Mike's stomach.

"Shit-" Mike chokes, taking a step back, his arms winding around his middle.

Will whips around, alarmed. "Sorry- I'm sorry- I don't know why I did that-"

Mike waves him off with one hand, making a pained noise, grunting out his words. "S'fine- not your fault- go get your camera."

Will hesitates, his hands hovering in the air, but Mike waves at him again, so Will ducks inside and kneels on the ground, unzipping his suitcase quickly. T-shirts, a tank top, shorts, sleep shorts, jean shorts, even more shorts-

"Did you bubble wrap it in clothes?"

"Yeah," Will mumbles, glancing up at Mike briefly before looking back down and tugging his swimshorts free. "I didn't want it to break. Is your stomach okay? I really am sorry-"

Something thuds down the hallway and Will freezes, his head snapping over to look at Mike, who was hovering by the doorway still.

"Oww-! Lucas-"

"DUSTY?! DUSTY, WHAT HAPPENED UP THERE?!"

Mike looks down at him with wide eyes before he breaks out into loud, wheezing laughter.

"NOTHING, MA! I JUST FELL!"

Will presses the back of his hand against his mouth, shoulders shaking, snorting on every inhale, his eyes scanning Mike's form. Mike's eyes are scrunched tight, hair tangled, shirt sweaty and ruffled. Will's chest throbs a bit, fuzzy. Mike looks almost domestic, like this.

"YOU'RE FRAGILE, DUSTY, YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL-"

"I KNOW, MA!"

Mike stumbles forward, snickering, and ruffles Will's hair with one hand. Will ducks his head down. "I can't believe we missed it because you stepped on his cat-"

"Stop!" Will whines, cheeks hot. He presses his face into his hands, embarrassed. "I feel so bad."

Mike's knuckles nudge gently against the back of Will's fingers, where his forehead would have been. Will leans back a bit on his knees, letting Mike push him. "Do you still want to get a picture? It won't be the same, but we can still get one."

Will slowly parts open a gap, looking up at Mike through the cracks between his pointer and middle fingers. Mike's eyes were teary, the way they always got when he laughed a bit too hard, crinkled in the corners and lashes clumped. "Or… we could just lie about having one instead and use it for blackmail."

Mike hums, eyes lidding ever so slightly, squinting down at Will.

A flash of embarrassment pickles hot beneath Will's skin with the humiliation of a joke not quite landing. "…We should start getting ready," Will whispers, his hands falling down to curl awkwardly on his lap.

He regrets having taken the time to kneel instead of just hauling his suitcase up onto the bed. It felt odd, sitting with Mike standing, his frame impossibly tall, the gap in their height accentuted so drastically. Usually when Will looked up at Mike, he didn't have too look too far, only a head or so.

His stomach flips, twisting. Will shifts, his knees stinging, the lack of circulation to his calves making his legs tingle.

"Yeah, probably. Are you going to hit me again if I touch you?"

Will's mind races, and he raises a shaky hand to push at Mike's hip, similar to a tease, something friendly to shut his chest up. "Maybe."

Mike doesn't move an inch from the weak shove, and Will feels trapped, all of a sudden. He can't stand up with Mike so close. He can't bring himself to scoot back, either.

"Are you?" Mike asks again, curious, expecting an honest answer. It's quiet for a few moments, Mike patiently waiting.

"…No."

"Okay," Mike exhales, voice low and sweet. He sounds almost like how chocolate tastes, rich and heavy. Will's legs clench just for a moment, instinctively.

Mike's hand was big, fingers long and calloused, intimidating as he reaches out. Will braces himself for another shove to the forehead, or a flick in-between his eyebrows. Maybe even a pinch, something a bit mean, but never violent. Gentle in the way that Mike would never hurt him.

Mike's fingers slip into his hair, combing through carefully, brushing out a little tangle. It pulls, but Mike doesn't yank. "Still okay?"

"Yeah," Will breathes, not quite sure what he's agreeing to. Mike cards through the strands once, then again, slower. Will's breath hitches, nails scratching lightly against his scalp before settling near the front of his hairline, curling gently around his bangs.

Mike gives an experimental little tug, and Will's eyes flutter, breath hitching. "Hm."

The sound of Mike's voice felt like pure heat, sliding down Will's spine and into his stomach, puddling low. Will swallows, his pulse sounding too loud in his ears. Mike's grip tightens just enough to keep hold of Will's curls before giving Will's head the tiniest shake from side side.

It barely moved him at all, but the intent was enough to make Will's heart climb into his throat, the eye contact too much to hold. Will's gaze drops and Mike's grip tightens in response.

"Will."

Will shifts, his bare thighs sliding against each other as he squirms ever so slightly, his sleep shorts having ridden up.

His eyes fall to Mike's own shorts, unable to help himself. They were hung low on his hips, the way his boxers must have been. Will can't even see the hem of them now, just a sharp hip bone and a long v leading down, down, down.

Will's starting to realize he might have a small obsession with Mike's hair. He can see more of it, curls peeking up from cheap black sports shorts, coiled and full. The trail from his belly button getting thicker the further down it goes. He wonders if it smells like sweat from the heat, or if it smells like Mike's shampoo, strawberries and cream, the same kind he used to steal from Nancy. Maybe it smelled like his cologne, pine leaves and sandalwood. Maybe it smelled like skin.

Maybe he tasted like skin, too. A bit salty, maybe bitter.

The sweat sticks between Will's thighs when he shifts again, restless, Mike tugging him closer ever so slightly, his scalp stinging.

Will's tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Will," Mike coos, voice quiet. Will's eyes snap up, caught. Mike doesn't seem upset, his thumb caressing Will's temple, his fingers loosening ever so slightly. "Will?"

Will's throat bobs, his tongue heavy in his mouth despite how heavy it felt. He can't bring himself to speak, head bobbing up and down every so slightly in response. Mike's eyes soften.

"Your hair's getting a bit long." The tension on his scalp leaves, Mike's hand carding through his hair again, gentle. Will swallows thickly once, and then again when he can't force any words out. "You should let it grow before we get it cut, yeah?"

"…Okay," Will manages, his head fuzzed. Mike's free hand taps an absent rythm against his thigh, pausing ever so slightly to clench and unclench. Will knows, distantly, that if Mike had a pen it would be flipping through those long fingers right now. So skilled, so controlled.

Will prefers when they're touching him, instead. Firm and capable.

"You were right, earlier." Will can't remember anything other than a stinging on his head and dark hair. He wonders whether or not he'd be able to make out a size if Mike were to wear tighter shorts, or if his bathing suit were to stick to skin, whether he'd catch a glimpse. His stomach twists, shame mixing in with something else that makes him throb. "We should get ready."

"Oh," Will chokes out, trying not to whine when Mike's hand slips out of his hair, Mike stepping backwards. "Okay."

Mike's lips twitch upwards, eyebrows lifting for a second, always so expressive. Will swallows another time, but it doesn't help the dryness in his mouth or the lump in his throat. "I should get dressed, now. If we're still heading out."

"Okay," Will repeats, unable to berate himself for the stupidity of his tongue.

Mike's eyes flick up and down his face before he turns, reaching behind his neck to catch the collar of his shirt, tugging upwards.

Will would feel ashamed if he could, his eyes trailing up the smooth line of Mike's back, skin freckled and pale. He was so tall, his shoulders wider than they'd been in highschool. Morning light spills through the window, tracing the shape of lean muscle beneath skin, the shirt bundling up in Mike's hands and tossed by his duffle bag.

Mike's hands drop down to the hem of his shorts, thumbs catching into the elastic.

Will looks away so quickly that his head throbs, ears popping, the fuzz leaving his mind in a rush.

"I'm-" his voice cracks. "I'm gonna go shower."

"Take your time, I'll hop in after you for a quick rinse."

Will nods, his throat tight, and he snatches up clean clothes and a bottle of shampoo. You already know what kind. Coconut and mint goodness. He's so cute.

"See you in a bit," Mike calls, and Will doesn't bother responding, hoping that Ms. Henderson had extra towels in the bathroom.

 

___________________________________

 

Heat seeps through the paper onto Will's hand.

The morning sun had already baked itself into the mustang's chipped blue roof , turning it into a scorched but decent writing surface if he ignored the burning creeping into his palm. Every now and then the paper tried to slide, and Will would have to flatten it with the heel of his hand before continuing his list in faded blue ink.

Barbecue chips for Dustin, at least two bags. Nacho cheese for Mike, and Salt and Vinegar for Lucas and Max. Jane wouldn't eat any, having an issue with crunchy foods.

Cans of Coke for Lucas and Dustin, 7-Up for Will, Max, and Mike, and Hi-C for Jane. A bag of apples to snack on. If they remembered to ask Lucas to add a knifein the cooler, Mike could cut them up once they got to the pool. Will could cut them on his own, obviously, but he liked how Mike always managed to make them identical in size, along with the little whooshing sounds Mike made under his breath at each slice.

Any sort of chocolate or gummies would melt, so Razzles and Runts were probably their best options. Mike wouldn't eat Runts because he thinks the bananas taste like chemicals, but Lucas wouldn't eat Razzles because they 'couldn't decide what to be'. Dutin didn't have a preference, and Max wouldn't eat either. Jane might like to try them, if she hasn't before. Will can't quite remember, but he's sure she'd at least enjoy sorting the colors and picking a favorite.

Absentmindedly, he lifts the pen to his mouth, pausing just short of his lips. There were tiny cresent-shaped teeth marks in the plastic, a bit torn and clearly gnawed at. Will feels his mouth twitch into a frown. He can't actually remember who it belonged to. He'd found it in Mike's glove compartment, shoved to the back, but it could've belonged to either of them. There's a good chance that Will either tossed it in there after a sketch or that Mike keeps it stored whenever he gets the urge to write.

Will lowers the pen, not wanting to risk it. Digging his teeth where Mike's could have been was a step too far, even for them. He doesn't want to imagine the face Mike might make if he found out.

The door clicks shut behind him and Will finds himself turning before he can help it.

Mike hops off the front step, jogging a few steps before settling into a walk down the driveway, flipping through his wallet, stuffing bills in without care. They poke out and crumple, disorganized. For someone who color-coded his lecture notes and alphebetized his bookshelves, Will can't remember a single time that Mike has managed to keep his money neat.

Mike shoves the wallet towards his back pocket but it slides against demin. He tries again, misses, and pauses mid step to hook one thumb in the fabric and pull the pocket open wider so he could push the bulky material inside.

Will snorts quietly, and Mike's head snaps up, eyes playful. "What?"

"Nothing."

"No- no, tell me," Mike insists.

He'd shaved. The dark shadow along his jaw from earlier that morning was gone, leaving his face looking younger again. A bit softer, cleaner, less intimidating. There's two tiny nicks where the razor must have sliiped, one tucked beneath the curve of his jaw along his throat and another just along the edge of his chin, scabbed over. They were barely noticeable, but Will couldn't look away for a moment. He knew they had to sting.

Will tried to shave his legs once about a year ago, and he lost a whole chunk of skin on his left calf. He didn't have any shaving cream so he had to use hand lotion, and at the end of his shower he was left bloodied, half shaved, and smelling like Jergens.

Will's fingers twitch, tightening around the pen. He wonders if Mike can feel the pain every time he speaks, the scabbing cut on his throat moving. If Will hadn't seen him yesterday, he probably wouldn't be wondering if Mike removed the hair on his naval, too.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Mike's voice is playful, and Will's stomach twists.

Mike looks fine, shaved. The lack of hair isn't the problem here. He looks just like the Mike that Will has always known. Will tries not to focus on the unreasonable disappointment tightening in his chest.

"You can't be serious." He folds the list once, and then again until it's small in his hands.

Mike pauses mid step. "What did I do?"

"What are you wearing?"

Mike gives himself a quick glance, looking down. Worn sneakers, jeans, and a black graphic tee pulled around his shoulders. "What's wrong? It's cool."

"Mike, it was so hot you could barely sleep last night. Go change."

Mike's lips tug into a frown, eyebrows furrowing. "I used extra deodorant just in case."

Will snorts. "Deodorant doesn't help if you're wearing jeans."

"That's why I put it everywhere," Mike shrugs a single shoulder, as if it helped his case. Will's eyes flick down for a second before shooting back up. "Besides, no matter how bad I smell, Dustin's going to smell worse."

"You're going to get heat stroke. I'm not trying to be mean, I just don't want you fainting on me."

"You're overexaggerating-"

"Last summer?"

"I-" Mike stammers, converse shifting on broken pavement. "That was different. I was pushing around a heavy ass lawn mower for like, an hour and a half."

"And now you're going to be walking around in the sun for a few hours until we get there. I'll wait here- go change into something cooler. Your outfit is nice, but come on," Will murmurs. "Be a bit practical here before Max makes fun of you."

Mike watches him for a second, one corner of his mouth curling upwards. "So… you think I look good?"

Will pauses, blinking. "What?"

"You said I look nice, Will. That implies you think I look good, as in you want to keep looking at me."

That wasn't what he said at all. It wasn't wrong, but it wasn't what he said. He couldn't exactly confirm or deny the accusation, so he crosses his arms over his chest, paper held between his pointer and middle finger. "I think the Quantum Leap shirt could use a little work, but besides that-"

"What?!" Mike's steps speed up, and Will grins, rocking back on his heels. "It's a great show. Sam Beckett is cool-"

"I'm not sure cool is the right word."

Mike hums, knocking the toe of his shoe against Will's, eyebrows lifted. "What, is he not your type?"

Will's eyes roll, and he presses the piece of paper against Mike's chest. Mike reaches a hand up to grab it and absentmindedly shoves it in his back pocket. "Can we go? I'd like to get there before you go limp on me."

"You're mean today," Mike huffs, reaching past him and pulling open the passenger door open before jogging around the front.

Will grins to himself in victory, tossing the pen into Mike's cup holder, which was full of change. Mike's run was just as awkward as it was earlier, all elbows and odd knees. Will snickers, climbing inside, his thighs meeting the seat.

"Jesus-!" Will hisses, springing halfway back up, one hand on the center console.

"What?" Mike sticks his head in through the driver's side, eyes wide. "What happened?"

"Burned myself," Will mumbles, yanking his shorts down the best he could from where they'd bunched up on his thighs.

"You scared the shit out of me," Mike breathes, his shoulders relaxing. "The seats are hot."

"Yeah, I gathered," Will mutters under his breath.

Mike slides into the driver's seat, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket, tossing it over to Will who catches it between both of his palms in a little clap, dropping it onto his lap moments after. Mike slides the key into the ignition, and the car gives a little jolt as it wakes up. "Hold your breath."

Will sucks air into his lungs, cheeks puffed out, and Mike cranks the AC up as high as it goes with one hand, the other shielding Will's face as the vents shudder. A hot smog shoots out, Mike's fingers twitching, and Will's eyes squeeze shut instinctively.

It takes a few minutes for cool air to start washing over their overheated skin, like standing in front of an open fridge.

"Better?"

"Yeah," Will breathes. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Will reaches to grab the seatbelt before his hand jerks back, fingers tingling. "God- I think your car hates me."

"I got it," Mike coos, his voice soft. Will tries not to let it settle in his stomach, leaning back and letting Mike's arm reach over him.

"I can do it."

"I know," Mike reassures, tugging the seatbelt securely over Will's chest, only for the metal to graze his forearm. "Shit-!" Mike's arm seizes for a moment, his wrist waving in the air.

Will bursts out into laughter, his head tilting back and knocking into the rest, one of his hands raising to cover his mouth.

"Shit," Mike repeats through his teeth, grabbing it more carefully and snapping the buckle in. "I think it branded me."

Will shakes his head, laughing too hard to speak.

"Yeah, yeah," Mike mumbles, gripping the handle of Will's door and yanking it closed.

Will snickers. "What degree burn do you think it is?"

"Go ahead, keep laughing at me," Mike shifts the gear into neutral but keeps his foot on the break. "You'll feel bad about this later."

"Mmm… Maybe."

"Wallet?"

"Oh- right," Will mutters, cracking it open and pulling the bills free. He smoothes out what he cans and turns them so they're facing them in the right direction, counting in his head. Will slips Mike's driver's license in it's own slot, separated and easier to grab. "You've got sixty seven dollars, your debit card, and your dad's credit card." He holds the wallet back out to Mike, who waves his hand dismissively.

"Keep it. Want me to stop by an ATM?"

"I think you could probably provide for all of us, including a few strangers," Will snickers, and Mike shoots him a small grin before he pulls off the street and away from Dustin's house.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Does this mean you're not going to shoplift anything?"

Will rolls his eyes, and shoves at Mike's shoulder. "You make me sound like a criminal."

"Well-"

Will doesn't let him finish, flicking the radio on and surfing channels until his eyes light up. He turns the volume up higher, leaning back in his seat.

Mike has to shout for his voice to be heard. "Who's this?!"

"The Waterboys!"

"HUH?"

"THE WATERBOYS!" Will leans in to respond a bit louder into his ear. "WE WILL NOT BE LOVERS, FROM THE ALBUM THE FISHERMEN'S BLUES!"

"NEVER HEARD OF THEM!" Mike call back, his head tilted in Will's direction, eyes on the road besides the few quick glances he shoots to Will. "YOU LIKE THEM?"

"YEAH!" Will grins at him, wide, and Mike takes a hand off the wheel to turn the volume up all the way.

Will can feel the music vibrate from the speakers into his bones, loud enough that it bounces in his bloodcells. It's like being a child on Jonathan's bed, guitars blaring and rising up through his feet while ignoring shouts in the next room.

Will reaches for the old window crank and starts turning, wind starting to push through his hair, whooshing past his ears.

Mike takes a wrong turn, speeding the car up a little. There's no reason for them to be driving away from town, but Will pretends not to notice. If Mike wanted to take a long route, Will would just continue bobbing his head, a hand sticking out the window and riding the breeze.

 

___________________________________

 

"You're kidding me," Will mutters, shifting back and forth.

The parking lot was crowded already, and it was barely noon. Ahead of them stretched a line that snaked halfway around the chain-link fence, curling back on itself twice before disappearing through the front gates. Children bounce on sunburnt feet and parents balance coolers against their hips and unfold beach umbrellas above restless toddlers. Will's eye twitches in annoyance, his fingers clenching and unclenching nervously.

"Huh." Mike remarks from behind him, his trunk slamming closed. Will jumps at the noise, feeling on edge. "Since when did they add a slide?"

"A slide? This is- this is insane. Why are there so many people?"

"Probably for the waterpark," Mike snickers. Will doesn't laugh with him,

He could see at least two slides from here, bright blue twisting like giant plastic snakes. There's shrieking little kids, and fountains spraying, and an advertisement for the lazy river. A lazy river in Hawkins.Small town Hawkins Indiana. He remembers Starcourt seeming cool when he was younger, watching the machines dig and build. All he feels now is a sense of dread in his stomach.

"Isn't this a bit overboard?"

"Apparently not," Mike shrugs, nodding his chin to the line of people. There were at least fifty people in line. And counting, based on the cars pulling up. Will couldn't even recognize most of these people, and everyone in Hawkins knew everyone. "Get in line, I'll meet you."

Will's chest tightens. He honestly couldn't think of anything worse than going over there alone. "I don't get it."

"Renovating for the new day and age, I guess. After-" Mike's voice falters, quieting down. "I guess the mayor has a lot more government help. Mom said they've been tearing down all the smaller shops to fill in for some bigger corporations. Apparently, Holly went protesting with her friends, and Hopper had to drag her off the road because she refused to move."

Will's throat bobs, but the lump there doesn't go away. "Why didn't- why didn't you tell me about this before?"

Mike's car beeps, locking. Will can't tear his eyes away. Stuck in that line, Jennifer Hayes giggles, a hand covering her mouth. There's a ring on her finger. She's a year younger than him, but Jennifer Hayes is married and a part of the new day and age. He can see Thomas Ward, too. He used to pick on Dustin in the hallways and now he's carrying a baby in his arms. Stacey Albright is hunched over Renee Becker and they're giggling together in each other's ears, but a man slings his arm over Stacey's shoulder and she leans up to kiss him.

Will's twenty and Will's never even kissed a girl. He's never going to kiss a girl, and he's never going to get married, and the second he leaves things change.

Is Murkwood named now? If he tried to bike by, would there be new road signs he wouldn't recognize? If he went missing now, would it have been easier to find him?

His throat feels like it's closing in.

Hawkins has never needed a water park, because there's never been enough townspeople for that. There's so many faces he doesn't know. Do they know him?

"You just… you don't like talking about home. We try not to bring it up sometimes, that's all. Don't be upset, Will. If I knew you wanted to know I would've told you. I tell you everything."

"We?"

"…You're happy there. I mean, we all stayed in the dorms for Thanksgiving because you didn't want to head home. We got Christmas dinner in the dining hall, Will. We'd do anything to make you happy. You know that, right? If you never wanted to talk about Hawkins again in your life, I would, like, find a way to change my birthplace on my birth certificate so you'd never need to read it. Not that you see my birth certificate often. Or ever, actually. Please say something."

Will remembers thankgiving. His mom on the phone, Jane arguing with Hopper in the background, his mother's voice quietly asking him to come home. He'd clammed up, telling her that he couldn't afford the drive. Not a complete lie. He knows that if he wanted, Mike would have covered the trip and then some. He never asked, and when the holiday finally came around, his friends clamored up onto his and Dustin's shitty dorm couch and passed around boxxed food they made in the communal kitchen.

Will had just assumed none of them wanted to go home, either.

"Will?"

Will glances up, his feet cemented to the parking lot ground. Mike's eyes soften, two grocery bags one hand, cutting into his fingers, and a backpack slung onto his free shoulder.

"Do you wanna head back? We can stop by Family Video and grab a movie to put on."

"…They still have that?"

"Yeah," Mike mumbles. It's soothing, even as a child's screen deafens it out. "Yeah, they do. You wanna go?"

"But the others-"

"Screw them. Come on, tell me more about that band you like."

"The Waterboys?"

"Yeah, them. Mind popping the trunk for me?"

Will's teeth gnaw on his bottom lip, his stomach twisting, uncomfortable. There's more squealing, Children playing inside. Will didn't want to ruin Dustin's summer the way he ruined Thanksgiving.

"Can we go inside?"

"The car?" Mike asks, his eyebrows furrowing. "I mean, I thought so, but if you wanted to walk I guess we could-"

"No," Will stammers. The back of his neck feels hot, sun and sweat bearing down on him. Not cold. He doesn't have to be scared here, even in front of these people. "I want to swim. I don't want to go back yet- I'm serious."

"Are you sure?" There were white lines digging into Mike's hands, no doubt aching. Will moves a hand forward to grab one, and Mike takes a step back. "I got these. I just- I don't want you doing anything that makes you uncomfortable. Seriously, who cares what the others think? I'll just say I got, like, mono or something."

Will snorts, and Mike's eyes light up. "Dustin would put you in a plastic bubble."

"Yeah? He'd bubble you up with me."

Will hums, nodding even as he tries to bite down a smile. "How does that spread, again?"

"Mouth to mouth," Mike murmurs, his sneaker nudging Will's flip flop. His toes twitch before curling away instinctively. "Spit. Saliva. Another S word if people get weird enough."

"Okay!" Will ducks his head, looking away, embarassed laughter bubbling up through him. "I get it. I'm never sharing another drink with you again, you'll end up spitting in it and giving me something."

Mike's eyebrows raise. "I don't actually have mono, Will. I was joking."

"I don't know, you seemed pretty educated there…"

"Everyone should be educated. What, do you think I have herpes too, just because I went to that one seminar?"

Will's nose scrunches up and he takes a wide step back. "Ew, I don't want to hear about your herpes."

"I don't have-!" Mike lowers his voice quickly, hissing. "I don't have herpes. Who could I have possibly even gotten herpes from, huh?"

"First, stop saying the word herpes. Second, it's pretty common, there's nothing to be ashamed of-" Will's voice cracks midway, a little giggle slipping out.

Mike takes a long, deep breath in. His shoulders roll back and he fixes his posture before exhaling all at once. "You know what? No. I'm choosing to be the bigger person."

"I don't know if big is the right word here…"

Mike's eyebrow raises. "Is that really the route you want to take right now?"

Will's throat bobs. "Sorry- you're right."

"Mhm. You ready?"

"…Herpes is honestly one of the luckier diseases you could get, if you think about it."

"Okay. You made your point, now stop stalling. Come on."

"I-" Will stammers. "Shouldn't we wait for the line to go down?"

"Nope. Here, pass me my wallet and crack open a bottle of water."

Will's throat bobs, relief thrumming down his spine, passing the wallet over. This was the easy part, letting Mike lead and getting to sit back and follow. He honestly really, really wanted to ditch and head back, but Mike could handle this. Mike was already in the middle of taking charge, so there was nothing for Will to worry about.

Mike's hand closes around the leather before he starts walking, Will having to take two steps at a time to keep up with him. Will digs through the groccery bags in Mike's grip before pulling out a cold bottle, twisting the cap loose.

"Water?"

"Thanks," Mike murmurs, leaning back against the fence. A woman shoots him a look, taking a wide step forward so there was more of a gap between them in the line. Mike winces, but doesn't stand up fully. "I think I'm dying."

"I told you not to wear jeans," Will mumbles, holding the bottle out. "Here. There's probably a water fountain here somewhere, so just drink the whole thing. We can refill it after."

Mike's lips twitch in a grin. "You were right. I'm sorry. Waterfall me?"

Will shifts, his eyes flicking from side to side. A family gets into line behind them, a baby perched on a woman's hip and a toddler tugging at their father.

"Here?"

"I don't have free hands." Mike lifts the bags in one hand as proof, his other hand holding his wallet between his pointer finger and his middle finger. "See? Just a little, I'll be quick."

"You're almost as bad as Dustin." Will grumbles under his breath, making eye contact with a little girl who flinches and turns to whisper in her brother's ear. "How come I'm always the one taking care of you idiots?"

"Because you're so good at it?"

Will sighs, pushing up on his toes. Mike slouches over slightly, mouth open. "Ready?" Mike's head bobs slightly, and Will averts his eyes, tipping the bottle to the side so the water pours into his mouth. Some of it misses, trailing down Mike's chin and the sides of his lips. Will pointledly refuses to notice until Mike makes a garbled sound, signaling for him to stop.

"I'm not doing that again."

"Thanks," Mike coughs out, rubbing the bottom of his face against his shoulder.

By the time they make it to the front of the line Mike's shoes are squeaking on the ground and Will can feel the insides of his thighs chafe and ache. He wipes the sweat from the back of his neck and feels his body shudder. Heat was just heat, and heat was good. He shouldn't be uncomfortable. There's nothing in him to make himself this uncomfortable.

Just Will. Slightly sweaty and with aching feet, but he's himself.

"We should've just gone to the lake."

Mike chokes out a laugh over his shoulder, nudging Will to the side gently with his hip so he can step up in front of him and towards the ticketbooth. The girl inside couldn't have been older than sixteen or seventeen, her uniform shirt tied at the back to pull tighter in the front. Her legs are slung over the armrest, her body slumped, filing down her fingernails with a level of boredom that Will didn't quite understand. If he had pretty purlple nails like hers, he wouldn't be so careless with chipping the polish.

"Can I help you?" The gum in her mouth pops loudly enough for Will to hear it over the screaming children somewhere beyond the gates.

"Two tickets," Mike shifts, rolling the bags up his forearm and to the crook of his elbow, opening his wallet.

"Twelve dollars for adults, eight for teens, and six for kids," she deadpans, holding her hand away from her body so she could look at her progress. She gets back to filing right after.

"Twelve-?" Will stammers, hooking a hand onto the back of Mike's shirt. "Let's go. Come on, we can just head back and find the others, they might still be at Dustin's-"

"Will," Mike coos, flipping through his wallet and pulling out bills, his voice soothing. Will's shoulders relax just from hearing it. "You mind grabbing some quarters from the car? There might be a payphone inside."

"You're not actually considering this, are you? Mike, I don't even want to go in. It's going to be crowded and sweaty- and the lake is free. It's not worth the money."

"Will," Mike repeats, his voice low and a little stern the way it gets when he takes charge during a campaign. A jolt of electricity runs up Will's spine. "Take my keys and grab some change from my cup holder, that way we can call the others. We're holding up the line, don't make me ask again."

Will's throat bobs, and he unhooks Mike's keys off of his beltloop. "I'll be right back."

"Good- I'm sorry for sounding mean. I'll wait here with your wristband, then we can find a place to change inside, okay?"

"…Okay."

Will can feel heat scorching on the back of his neck as he weaves past people, Mike's keyring digging into his palm. He tells himself it's just the sun.

 

___________________________________

 

Will's hands drag against his legs, pressing sunscreen into skin, watching Mike toss his wallet over the fence.

"THANKS!" Lucas shouts.

"GIVE IT BACK WHEN YOU'RE DONE!" Mike calls back. "I'M SERIOUS! I'LL REPORT YOU TO THE POLICE!"

"SHUT UP! WE'LL BE RIGHT THERE-"

There were freckles dotting all of Mike's back, most of them clustering up high on his shoulders, dusting along his spine. Will could see his armpit hair from here, thick and dark.

If Will didn't already know him and who he was, Will would've assumed that Mike was married. He just had that sort of look to him, like a charming man that had a wife waiting at home and a lawn to mow, maybe a kid on the way or off at daycare. Maybe it's because he's gotten too used to seeing Mike's hands covered in jewlery, but his ring finger looks a bit too bare.

When Mike finally did find a girl that suited him, Will hoped she wasn't boring.

A child screams and Will's head snaps over in alarm, just for a little boy to run and canonbowl into the deep end. Will's body relaxes.

"Got any to spare?" Mike pipes up next to him, and without speaking, Will squeezes sunscreen into Mike's palms. "Thanks. What are you thinking about?"

"I'm trying to figure out how many boogers are stuck to the bottom of the pool. Want me to get your back?"

Mike's lips twitch. "At least a hundred. Want me to get yours after?"

"No need," Will shrugs a shoulder, squirting sunscreen onto one hand before capping it and placing it next to him. Mike settles onto the white concrete in front of Will's chair, so Will can rub it into his skin from behind. Mike's hair is cut short at the nape, curls tucking behind his ears, frizzed up from the humidity. Will uses his knuckles to rub it in, because it's safer. "I think I'll keep my shirt on- it's kinda gross here. I need, like, a barrier or something."

"Suit yourself," Mike murmurs, rolling his shoulders back and leaning into Will's touch. Will pretends not to notice, the way he always does. "You wanna head to the slides first or try the river?"

Will gnaws on his lower lip, thinking. The slides looked crowded, and he didn't do well in tight enclosed spaces. Not after everything. The river was probably the way to go, but he knows Mike would get antsy after a while.

A few chairs away, a woman whispers something into the ear of a little boy. Her son, most likely. They were wearing matching bathingsuits, and Will's chest gives a little throb. The boy looks directly at Will, eyes wide, before loudly going "Ew!" The woman shushes him immediately, but Will's ears ring. Her eyes drop to Will, then to Mike, and then back. Will can feel the way her judgement sinks into his skin, soloing him out.

Will's hands fall back to his lap, still slick with the lotion.

"I might just stay here and draw for a little while, if that's okay. My feet kind of hurt from all the standing earlier."

"Oh. Yeah- yeah, of course," Mike's voice turns gentle. "I should've brought a book or something."

"Maybe," Will teases. "Tell me if the slides are any good, okay? I'll send Dustin after you when they finally get inside."

Mike's eyes narrow, lips twitching. His head tilts back, resting on Will's left knee, looking up at him upside down. Will's eyes flick to Mike's cupids bow just for a second. He wonders if kissing upside down is a thing girls and boys do, or if no one's ever loved someone enough to try it yet. "Can I watch you draw? I'll be so bored."

"Depends on what I get in return."

Mike's right hand nudges Will's bare ankle, fingernails scratching the skin. Will startles. "I may have something to your liking…" He gives a playful little tug.

"Mike, don't be stupid-"

Mike gives another tug, a bit stronger than before, trying to hike Will's right leg up over his shoulder. "Come on. I can give you a foot rub, that way you're not hurting anymore."

Will's eyes dart to the side, looking around. There were four people looking at them. Looking at Will, more specifically. Four people too many. Will yanks his leg away, kicking at Mike's back with his flip-flop covered foot, pushing him away. "Knock it off."

"What-?" Mike grunts, confused. The lounge chair shifts backwards with a screech, Will pushing himself up to his feet. "Where are you going?"

"I changed my mind. I think I'll dip my toes in and draw there."

"Wha-" Mike shoves himself up with a hand, half sitting. "Here, I'll come with."

"No-"

"What's wrong?"

Will's throat bobs, feeling guilt creep up on him. "I want to cool off. Will you watch our things? I don't want to risk someone taking our stuff. Please?"

Mike falters, clearly torn. "Will-"

Will feels mean even before he speaks. "If you don't think you can I don't mind waiting for Lucas. I'm sorry for asking, it was stupid of me."

"No! No, no- not at all. You're not stupid. I can do it- just- stay where I can see you?"

"Of course-"

"EUGH!" A loud round of laughter starts up from behind him, and Will's whole body tenses. "Is that Zombie Boy?"

Mike's on his feet a moment later, his eyes narrowed. Will feels his throat tighten, his heart thumping, demanding he run. He tries to shove it down. "Shut up-"

"Holy shit! It is! Zombie Boy is back in Hawkins? Who the fuck told him he was invited?" Will, ever the idiot, glances up at them, turning around. Sunburned shoulders and cheap sunglasses look back at him. Will doesn't recognize a single face, but they look around his age. Will kept his head down for most of highschool, so he's not surprised.

For some reason, he'd hoped that when he left Hawkins so would people's opinions of him.

One of them pulls themself out of the pool, the sound of children laughing and screaming almost drowning them out. "Gross! What if he contaminated the water?!"

"Dude, don't get near me! What if you have AIDS-"

"Hey, Jackass!" Mike snaps, louder. Will's heart lurches. Will's defense mechanism has always been run. Running and hiding has saved his life more times than he can count. Mike tended to be the opposite, rushing in ready to fight at any opportunity. "The fuck did you just say?"

One of them laughs harder. "Who are you, his boyfriend?"

"Dude- that's Wheeler! Nancy Wheeler's brother?"

"The hot one?"

"Yeah! Hey, Wheeler, think you could bag me a date?"

Mike's fist clenches and Will catches his arm before he can take another step and do something stupid, like shove them to the ground and get pummeled. "Mike, it's not worth it. Don't start anything."

"They really are fags- you think Zombie Boy infected him too, or are they both just dirty?"

"Byers for sure. You know, I heard that the reason he came back is because he gives such bad head that even Satan didn't want him. Pretty embarrassing for a queer, huh?"

Mike yanks his arm clean out of Will's grip, taking two angry strides forward before Will clutches at him again, digging his feet in the ground. "Will, let go-"

"Mike, I swear to God-"

"They don't get to say that shit about you-"

"Mike, please, lets just go- I want to go home. Please- just take me home-"

"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, Wheeler!"

Will can feel every muscle in Mike's body tense. He tightens his grip and squeezes his eyes shut. Mike's been in more fights than Will can count, but he's never won a single one of them. Usually he gets a single snarky comment in before he's icing his face in the nurses office and Will's scrubbing the word frogface off of Mike's locker.

"What, are you jealous? Don't lash out on others because your idiocy makes you look unappealing to anyone with half a brain. If you were your own species, you would go extinct because you couldn't get a female to mate with you-"

Will feels himself cringe.

There's a shout, cutting off their argument. It wasn't teasing or mocking like the rest of them, or playful and childish like the background noise that Will has been trying to zone out. It vibrates in his ears, high-pitched and fearful. Terrified. "HELP!"

"SOMEONE-"

There's no tingle at the back of his neck. There's no danger. Will's safe, now. It's hot and humid and he's sweating enough to feel it in his pores. There's another shout and Mike's head whips towards the sound, Will's following a second after. Mike could handle this. Mike always handled this.

His neck is silent, but his breaths are coming in fast.

"HEY- SOMEONE GET A LIFEGUARD-"

It takes Will a second to process what he's looking at, already scanning for shades of red. Instead, there's a little girl half underwater in a bright pink swimsuit. She looks about six, one small arm clawing helplessly at the concrete wall. Her swimsuit is stuck in one of the drains beneath the surface, pinning her in place despite her kicking leg. There's a woman trying to pull her out, and a man tugging at her little arm.

Will's throat tightens. She coughs up water, trying to get her head above the surface. For a second, Will could swear he feels slime on the back of his tongue.

"SOMEONE PLEASE DO SOMETHING!"

"HELP- SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!"

"WHERE'S THE LIFEGUARD?!"

"PLEASE- PLEASE, THATS MY BABY-"

Will steps back, his hand raising to cover his mouth. He has to keep them down.

There's a splash, Lucas diving into the water fully clothed. His sneakers are still tied onto his feet, his shirt soaking within seconds, disappearing beneath the surface in one clean dive.

"Dustin- get the jets off-" Mike barks. Will can't hear them properly. It feels like there's water in his ears, clogging tight.

"Got it-!" Dustin shouts, dropping bags onto the ground. "WHERE'S THE CONTROL ROOM?! HEY-"

There's a boy in a red shirt, looking thirteen at the oldest. The lifeguard, Will notes distantly. His legs feel wobbly.

"MIKE!" Lucas resurfaces, gasping for air. "Help- she's going to drown-" Lucas ducks back under, tugging the best he can.

Mike's head snaps from side to side, eyes darting around. He snatches a nearby cooler and tips it over, drinks scattering across concrete. He doesn't spare any of it a second glance, dropping to both knees at the pools edge and shoving the cooler hard beneath the surface, wedging it against the wall to create a pocket of trapped air, using his body weight to keep it down.

I don't care if this doesn't make sense it's been a long day just give me a break. If they could kill the mind flayer in like 8 minutes in vol2 I think this can be excused.

"El! We could use some help here-" Mike grunts, strained.

"PLEASE!" The woman wails, trying to tread water. "THAT'S MY DAUGHTER-"

"It'll be okay," Max tries to soothe, gripping the woman's forearms and helping her out. "We're getting help-"

There's a tingle prickling at his spine. Will's head turns, following the feeling, but there's still no red tinge of claws, just an outstretched hand and blood trickling down a nostril. Jane's arm trembles, brows furrowed, every muscle in her face clenched and determined.

The water doesn't budge, and Will feels panic grip at him. There's a brief flicker of lights and a pained noise, but Will knows it's pointless. Jane hasn't been able to do more than make an empty soda can twitch. Some things aren't coming back. A drop of blood hits concrete, and Will feels himself scramble to action, like a deer being shot at.

Will's head snaps around, panicked. He needed something sharp.

He grabs the nearest purse, riffling through it. Wallet, lipstick, receipts. Nothing useful. He snatches a pair of shorts off a chair but the only thing in the pockets are condoms and Bazooka bubblegum.

Another purse, and a jacket. Nothing in both. He grabs a backpack with initials written on the fabric of it, and he tugs at the zipper so hard that it gets stuck for a moment. There's pens, notebooks, a walkman, and a pocketknife clipped to a can of pepper spray. He yanks, but the keyring catches.

"Come on," Will hisses to himself, bugs wriggling deep under his skin. Despite the voice in his head screaming at him to hide somewhere safe, he couldn't bring himself to be useless again, not with the others all trying.

He presses a foot against the bag and pulls harder, the flimsy chain snapping. Will stumbles backwards, almost falling, but he's sprinting a second later.

"MIKE!"

Mike's head snaps up, his arms shaking, trying to keep the cooler held underwater so the girl could breathe in the gap of air. Lucas' feet are planted against the wall, trying to pull her free. Will holds out the knife and Mike's eyes light up.

"Jesus- you're the best!" Mike's leg kicks out backwards, his heel smacking Lucas squarely in the shoulder. Lucas comes up for air a second after, sputtering.

"What the hell, Mike?! Help me here, I can't get her out-"

"Knife, dipshit!" Max snaps, yanking it from Will's hand and passing it to him. She slips into the water, taking a lungful of air before diving under and pressing her palms over the jet, trying to cut off the suction.

Lucas snatches it and ducks back under.

The jets shudder before turning off, Lucas digging the knife into the fabric of her suit to cut her out from where she was stuck. Will watches, his eyes hazed, his skin feeling grimy.

They pull her onto concrete, and she throws up, gasping for air. Nothing in it moves, just chlorine and water. Will swallows, his stomach feeling sick. If he focuses hard enough, he can hear Billy slamming his body against glass. If he thinks harder, he can hear a little voice caressing him, telling him to come back.

Will takes another shuddering breath in, his throat tight.

"EVERYONE EVACUATE- PARAMEDICS ARE HERE- I REPEAT, EVERYONE EVACUATE THE PREMISES-"

Will's ears ring, lungs shuddering. In. Out. In. Out.

"Shit- Will, come on." Wet hands drop to Will's shoulders, squeezing. "Dustin, grab my stuff-"

"Why me?!" Dustin pants heavily. Will can't see. Everything is a smear of colors. "In case you just forgot, I just saved all our asses-"

"Dustin!"

"Fine. Jeez."

"Come on, Will. I got you. Come on. That's it."

Will's feet start moving. He registers, distantly, that he's safe. His body screams at him anyway.

 

___________________________________

 

The ceiling fan made a shuddering noise each time it moved. A grumble, a groan as it twisted, and then another slow turn. The lightbulb swung a bit, side to side, clicking every single rotation.

It would annoy Will if he could focus on it, but the AC was louder.

Dustin managed to fix it, apparently. Now it whirred obnoxiously from down the hallway, nonstop and insistent. Dustin was proud of his accomplishment, though. Will wished he could care.

Will's fingers thread through fur, a blanket weighing his shoulders down further into the chair. A tiny orange tabby cat sat on his lap, curled into a warm little loaf. It squeaks on every inhale and lets out a quiet purr on every exhale, endlessly trusting and sweet, whiskers twitching.

Earlier they'd looked up at Will and pawed at his leg, brown eyes all wide and needy. Mike had taken one look at Will's face before scooping the kitten up and resting him on top of Will's thighs. Will's fingers drag another line against their little head, smoothing the fur down. It pops back up.

His ears feel like they've stuffed with cotton, the same response he's dealt with his whole life. Therapy was supposed to make things better, but it never did. Medication didn't help either, but it's been a long time since Will's taken any. Dustin hasn't caught on, pills flushed down the toilet monthly and an empty bottle on the counter waiting to refil.

Being triggered over something so small is stupid. He's been through worse, and the girl was fine, and he has no reason for his body to still be in survival mode.

How's he supposed to live like this?

Will can't even go to the pool and be normal. He can't go home for the holidays because he knows he'll act out, and he can't get a job because every time he tries filling out an application he gets nervous at the thought of not being able to back out. He can't even think of the future without getting scared.

He's going to have student loans to pay, and a mortgage to deal with, and he's going to watch everyone he knows fall in love and start families and he's going to be in a homeless shelter or in his mother's attic until he dies.

Jennifer Hayes is married. He remembers that she wanted to be an architect. They had art together during senior year, and she sat in front of him. She wanted to move to Louisiana and work on making affordable housing over swamps. She's married, now.

Max and Lucas have been dating for years. It's only a matter of time until they're next.

Mike's fingers drag against his temples, a towel on top of his head. Every now and then Mike goes back to scrunching the fabric into his hair, but it's already dry. For the past five minutes or so Mike's just been caressing his thumbs against Will's ears, down the sides of his face, and then back up. There's no point anymore, but Will is going to say anything.

Rain knocks against the window. It started raining halfway through the ride back, Mike's windshield wipers blurring as water pelted the glass. The music was off, and Mike had to lift a hand off of Will's shoulder to grab the wheel with both hands, the tires sliding on wet asphalt. When they got back Lucas had rushed around shutting every window, shoving towels on the ground, trying to stop the wood from warping and the carpets from molding.

It's almost ironic. If they wanted to get wet they could have just waited a few hours and laid outside, instead of going through all of that trouble and the money wasted to get in to some new and stupid water park that had no useful employees. It would have saved him a shirt, too. Jane's had one of his flannels wrapped around herself, her own bloodied tank top in a plastic bag.

Will wonders, distantly, if he looked as upset as Jane did.

Her hands keep clenching, opening and closing, tension along her brows. Will's familiar with her anger the same way he is with his own. Helplessness and rage often look the same when they muddle together.

"Lean back," Mike murmurs, and Will listens before his mind can process it. A warm hand settles against the side of his neck, a thumb resting beneath his ear as Mike adjusts his head against the cushion. The chair smelled like cat, but he could smell Mike's cologne clinging to his wrists, so that helped a little. "Comfy?"

Will blinks, long and slow, and feels himself go boneless, his cheek soft against the rough fabric of the chair. Mike hums, setting the damp towel onto Ms. Henderson's desk. She had an odd collection of weird little troll dolls with hands clinging to the edge of the wood. It somehow worked with the tile floors and the bright walls. The room looked like something his mind would cook up as he's dreaming. He can't tell if that's comforting or not.

"Will," Jane starts, looking at him oddly, her expression tense. Her head is tilted to the side, eyes scanning Will up and down. There's a black smudge under her eyes. Mascara, most likely. He hadn't realized she's been experimenting in makeup like that, but he also hasn't asked. She lingers on him for a second before looking back to Mike, conflicted. "I do not understand."

Mike's thumb presses against Will's pulse. Will doesn't tilt his head back to look at him, focusing on the way Jane shifts, her back straightening. "Understand what?" Mike asks, voice tired. "You have to dry your hair or you'll get sick because it gets cold. That's why people say catching a cold, or you'll catch your death, or whatever-"

"That is not what I meant," Jane cuts in, her jaw ticking. She shifts again, restless. "I am not stupid."

"When did I say you were?"

Jane's mouth opens, hesitating for a second. "My hair is also wet. I am going to get sick and catch my death."

Mike sighs, and Will can feel it ruffle his hair. "There's extra towels in the bathroom down the hall- or you can use Will's if it's still dry enough?"

"… I do not understand."

"Understand what?" Mike repeats. Will lifts his head, ducking it down, and Mike's fingers catch at the hair on Will's nape, tugging a bit, prompting him back.

"You did not stop by yesterday, either. You did not come to the cabin to tell me you were back in Hawkins."

"Listen, El, I had a long drive. I was on the road for twelve hours. I thought you would've come over with Max, but you didn't. Why are you so upset right now?"

"I am not upset. Can we- can we talk? Alone?"

"What?" Mike's fingers tighten, and a little zap of pain rushes to Will's scalp. "I've been back for a day, and you didn't come here to say hi, either. Why am I the bad guy? If you want me to get you a towel I can, but I don't know why you're accusing me of whatever it is you think I'm doing wrong."

"We are friends," Jane starts, before cutting herself off, looking down to her feet for a second. "We are friends, right?"

Will swallows thickly. He would get up and leave if his legs didn't feel like jelly. "Are you serious? Why are we fighting right now?"

Jane's back straightens and her mouth opens for a brief second before closing again. She's going to snap, Will can already tell. It's bubbling up in her snd she's going to lash out eventually, but instead Jane just turns to look at Will, biting it down. "Thank you for the shirt. I hope you feel better, Will."

"Eleven," Mike starts, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I did wrong, but I don't want to fight."

"I have not been that for years," Jane hisses, taking fast steps to the door. It slams behind her, vibrating the walls. He can hear a hinge creek, loud and aggressive.

Will's body startles, even though his mind lags behind.

"Shit-" Mike lets out a long sigh, his hands falling off of Will's body. "I have no idea what that was about. Do you think she's mad?"

Will does, actually. He thinks Jane is furious. He doesn't say anything.

"Are you cold?" Mike prods, clearly expecting an answer. Will can't give him one. Mike pulls another blanket over his shoulders anyway, deciding for him. It drapes over his body, heavy and a bit too warm for the weather, despite the water drying on his skin. The cat meows, disturbed from the fabric.

Will also doesn't know what Jane could be upset about, but his stomach feels sick. He didn't like the way she looked at him for a second, like he took something from her. He didn't want to ask.

Will blinks, and Mike is somehow sitting cross legged on the floor in front of him, one knee propped up, his fingers digging into the skin of Will's foot. His thumbs press into the sensitive curve of Will's skin, massaging the stress out slowly. Will's foot twitches, ticklish, and Mike eases up on the pressure. Will didn't know if Mike moved fast or if his eyelids were slow. Most likely the latter.

"You should've let me do this earlier," Mike murmurs. Will's throat bobs. "Before those assholes started saying shit. Forget about them, okay? They're dont matter."

Will wasn't thinking about them, but he was now. If it were him that was drowning and his friends weren't there, would anyone have jumped in to save him?

It feels stupid to be so affected by something like this. He wasn't even hurt. He's fine.

The kitten yawns, snuggling into Will's stomach, claws digging into his skin through his swimshorts as they stretch. It stings, but it clears his head a little.

He's fine. Nothing's wrong, and he had a fairly good day. He shouldn't be acting this way. He also can't bring himself to stop.

"They're all just mouth breathers. Nobody knows their name outside of Hawkins, so they're upset that you made it out. Trust me."

The door cracks open and Lucas' head peeks around the frame, his face apologetic. "So… there's a bit of a problem."

"What happened?" Mike asks quickly, his hands pausing, head turning to look at Lucas.

"Everything fine!" Lucas rushes to say, a hand raising to scratch at the back of his neck. "Max forgot her house keys at the park, so she's spending the night. I just wanted to know if I can use your car tomorrow to go grab them?"

Mike's eyebrow twitches but he physically relaxes, shoulders slumping. "Dude, what? No. I'll just take you."

"Oh my god, Mike, just let me drive your car. I'm a good driver, it's not that big of a deal."

"I'm the only one who drives, you know that-"

"Yeah, when all of us are going somewhere, I get it, but you literally don't need to come along for this. It's just going to be me and Max."

"The fact that you don't know it's Max and I is enough of a reason for me to say no."

"Can you not be a smart ass right now?"

"You don't know basic grammar-! That's not me being a smart ass, that's me telling you that you're an idiot and you're not wrecking my car."

"I have my license, and I got it on my first try-"

"So have, like, half of the country."

"I'm a good driver!" Lucas protests.

"You are," Lucas brightens, mouth opening, but Mike keeps taking. "Just not in my car. My car, as in I own it, and you're not driving it around."

"Look, I don't know why you're so insistent on your car rules or whatever, but they're stupid. Can you make an exception just this once? Max literally can't get into her house."

"Technically it's her mom's house-"

"Dude."

"What?" Mike's lips twitch, clearly trying to get a rise out of Lucas. "If the rules work, there's no use in changing them. Either I drive or you bike. One or the other."

Lucas goes to respond, but the front door slams. The kitten on Will's lap startles, hopping up to their feet.

Will's used to loud, angry men. His stomach clenches and his spine straightens, instincts urging him to get somewhere safer. His feet tense. He should run. Mike's fingers dig into the skin there, one hand sliding up Will's calf, a nonverbal way of trying to soothe him. Will's can't focus on it, all of his senses tuned into the voice vibrating through the floors.

He's never heard Hopper this angry before. For some reason, he thought Hopper wasn't the type to get like this. Jane's told Will about him before, all the way back in Lenora. Will knows logically that Hopper can lash out and act mean even though he cares, but for some reason he's always considered the man to be kind and patient, like how he was during those Thursday hospital visits.

"I told you it was too dangerous-!"

"It was not only me! Someone had to do something-"

"And what did you end up doing besides putting yourself in danger? I already told you, kid- you can't protect yourself anymore. That means no risks, and no stupid stunts-"

Mike's fingers dig into Will's calf, and Will's throat bobs. Mike's head is turned towards the door, looking out the empty space Lucas took up just a moment ago. Will hadn't even seen him leave, but now the open door feels like an invitation, somehow.

His foot gives Mike's arm a little nudge, and Mike's eyes snap up to his. "Yeah? You okay?"

"You should go," Will whispers, the first thing he's said in however long they've been here.

Mike's face twists, hands going slack on Will's skin before slipping off. Will's foot touches the ground, cold tile making goosebumps rise. He almost misses the unbearable heat. "What? No way."

"You're too important, Jane-"

"I am tired of being important!" Jane snaps back. "I am not important, anymore! I am- I am tired of being here! I want to choose for myself, now. You can not keep me here and then be upset when I am here! I may not have helped her, but I have tried!"

Mike's lips tug downward, conflicted. Will nudges him again. "Go."

"Will-"

"Please?" His throat feels tight. "I'm okay, I just need some alone time. She needs you right now."

"And you don't?" Mike's voice feels heavy, like something Will doesn't exactly know how to carry.

"…No. I don't need you. It's okay."

Mike hesitates for just a moment before pushing himself up to his feet. There's a certain line of reluctance in the look of his eyes that Will feels settle inside of him. He looks a bit irritated, slightly hurt, but Will knows better than to assume how Mike feels. Mike's face always says one thing but his words say another.

Mike's fingers nudge a curl againsg Will's forehead, smoothing it back into the rest of his hair. "I'll be right back. Don't move, okay?"

"Okay."

Mike doesn't shut the door behind him, leaving a gap open.

Will doesn't know what to make of that, so he bundles the kitten up against his chest, standing even though his legs wobble ever so slightly.

He feels stupid. He probably looks worse.

Will doesn't bother looking for a mirror, setting the cat on the foot of the spare bed, shutting the door closed, and tugs his swimshorts off. He doesn't bother changing his shirt, pulling up a pair of pajama pants, and crawls into bed.

It's still too hot for a blanket, even with the AC working overtime, but Will tugs it over his body anyway, ducking his head down. Maybe he should've taken the floor and given Mike the bed, so he could have the excuse of bundling up against cold tile. He doesn't, because Will's selfish, and he couldn't think of anything worse than sleeping on the ground.

The kitten wiggles their way under the covers, settling against Will's back.

Hopper's voice raises, and he can hear Ms. Henderson get involved. He doesn't focus on what they're saying, squeezing his eyes shut. He's gotten good at drowning out arguments over the years.

He's asleep before Mike comes back.