Chapter Text
The alarm on Will’s end table only went off for a handful of seconds before an arm was reaching up and over him, blindly smacking in its general direction, and it went quiet. The arm fell where it hovered, draped across him, and Will peeled an eye open.
Mike’s eyes were still closed, but there was a pinch to his nose, all cute and scrunched up in annoyance.
“Don’t we have brunch?” Will murmured, shifting closer to his boyfriend, slipping an arm up and over his waist. Mike’s arm curled inward, drawing him in with it. He grunted his disapproval, and offered no further comment, eyes still screwed shut.
And, well, how could Will argue with that?
He sighed, eyes falling shut. Mike was warm under his touch, breath tickling the tip of his nose and ruffling his bangs. The fabric of his T-shirt was sweaty- the first week of June had brought with it the summer heat, and Mike, though Will loved him dearly, was steadily turning into a sticky, sweaty furnace.
…and he smelled.
Will supposed they were even, after Mike had to sit through all those nights in his musty basement with three awkwardly sweaty teenage boys.
He wrinkled his nose, but he didn’t shift away. If anything, he curled closer, tucking his hand up under Mike’s shirt and pushing it up, exposing the side of his waist. They’d kicked half the covers off overnight, so Mike’s right leg was already sticking out, tucked on top of the sheets in an attempt to regulate his body temperature. At the movement, Mike grunted again, and his fingers curled against Will’s back, brushing between his shoulder blades before relaxing again.
Will was perfectly content to stay right where he was, but, of course, things never worked out the way he wanted them to.
“Will, honey, don’t you have-“
Will’s eyes flew open, and he craned his neck to look at the door. His mom was standing with her hand still on the handle, wide eyes flicking between him and the boy curled up beside him. Her eyebrows flew up, and a smile split her face, just the sort that he knew meant trouble.
He sat up with a start.
“Mom.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said slyly, a hand on her hip. “But I know you have plans, and I heard you snooze that alarm. You’ve got a busy day.” Mike groaned, moving to prop himself up on his elbows, and Joyce leveled him with this smug look, like she knew everything. “Morning, Mike.”
“Morning,” Mike grumbled, still only half awake.
“Bathroom’s free,” she provided helpfully. “Jim’s in the kitchen and El stayed the night at Max’s. I haven’t seen Jonathan, so I assume he’s at Nancy’s.” She raised an eyebrow, teasing, as she glanced at Mike again. Mike, who’d snuck in after everybody else went to bed, not because he had to, but because he’d been busy the day before, so he couldn’t come over before that, and neither of them had wanted to spend the night alone.
Graduation was today, and that was scary, alright? Even together, it had taken them forever to fall asleep. They’d spent half the night whispering to each other under the covers, offering quiet reassurances and promises that everything’s going to be okay.
He could tell by the look on his mother’s face that she was getting all the wrong ideas.
He narrowed his eyes, and she cocked an eyebrow, a silent challenge. Joyce Byers was not an I put you in this world, I can take you out sort of mother, but she wasn’t someone to take lightly, either.
She stepped properly into the room without batting an eye, still fixing her son with a sidelong look as she crouched down to collect the clothes bunched on the floor, Mike’s jeans and Will’s pajamas, abandoned in the middle of the night when the stuffiness of the room and Mike’s body heat got to be too much. She dumped them in the hamper, crossed over to press a kiss to the top of Will’s head, and met Mike’s tired eyes with a warm smile.
“There are clean towels on the rack,” she hummed. “Soft and fresh out of the dryer.”
Go shower, she was saying, as sweet as only she could manage. You stink.
Mike nodded to himself, half rolling off the bed, and he trudged out of the room without a word, rubbing tiredly at his eyes as he went.
“This takes me back,” she hummed, looking awfully smug as she sat down on the edge of his bed. “I seem to remember you thinking it was gross when it was your brother and Nancy. You said you were never going to fall in love.” That last sentence was teasing, lip jutted out in a mock pout, and Will groaned, hiding his face in his hands. His mom’s laughter was light, a hand patting his knee. “Now, just promise me this. You’re being safe, right?”
“Oh my god,” Will whined. “Mom.”
“I know Mike’s on his medication, but that’s not a guarantee against anything, and you know I think that little girl’s the cutest thing in the world, but you’re still-“
“Mom, we’re not-“ He floundered for a moment, face red and burning. “We weren’t- no. We were just sleeping. And we aren’t doing any of those things anyway.”
She pursed her lips, clearly skeptical.
“I was a teenager once, honey,” she reminded him. “I went through this with your brother, too. I know how it is.”
“Trust me,” Will pleaded, meeting her gaze with imploring eyes. “We aren’t. At all.” He wasn’t about to get into all of that with her- he might be close with his mom, but he was not about to let her try to be the cool parent, the kind who- who picked up condoms while she was out at the store.
As much as he knew it was coming from a place of love, he was drawing this line and he was making it clear.
Across the hall, he heard the shower start. He knew, despite the heat and how much Mike complained, that he’d have the shower water hot enough to leave him red as a tomato.
A pang of fondness struck his chest, but he was careful not to let it show on his face. He couldn’t let his mom win this.
She hummed.
“Alright, then,” she conceded, patting his leg again and moving to stand. “You know I’m here if you ever need to talk. Mike, too. Make sure he knows he can come to me if he needs to. I know things are going better with his father, but I also know Ted isn’t the best conversationalist, even if he has his heart in the right place.”
“Okay,” Will sighed, rubbing at his face. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” she hummed, unbothered by the lack of enthusiasm. “Now get up. It’s almost 10. You said you had to meet your friends at 10:30.”
Will groaned again, flopping back onto his pillows, and he heard his mom laugh on her way out. She pulled the door shut behind her, and he listened as she retreated down the hall, footsteps fading once she hit the stairs. He just laid there for a while after, reluctant to move, and feeling just a little offended by all the teasing.
Will and Mike were not Jonathan and Nancy. Will loved his brother, of course he did, but the comparison made him wrinkle his nose. His brother and his girlfriend had been insufferable after they first got together, always sneaking glances and touches that were painfully obvious, always sneaking around…
Will flopped over onto his stomach, hiding his face in his pillows.
It was just- it was different, okay?
Most of the time, Mike just walked through the front door. And he’d been a constant around the house since they were five! If people were going to start being weird about Mike coming over just because they were dating now, he was going to lose it. If Hopper actually tried to instate that stupid three inches rule with Will’s lifelong best friend, he’d scream.
Besides, they were adults. He and Mike could run off together tomorrow, and nobody would be able to stop them. Maybe they should. Nothing to worry about, no overbearing families or college, no planning. Just going for it.
The door creaked open again, and feet shuffled across the floor.
“What’re you doing?” Mike asked, and he sounded wide awake, now. Will grunted into the pillows, stretching his arms out on either side of himself.
“Scheming,” he muttered, mostly lost in the pillows.
“Oh yeah?” Will turned his head, face still squished into the pillow. Mike was barely within his line of sight, rifling through Will’s drawers on the other side of the room, but he could hear the smile in his voice. “What about?”
Will twisted so he was laying on his back again, folding his arms over his stomach.
“Running away together,” he said wistfully, staring up at the ceiling.
There were a few seconds of silence as Mike got dressed, filled with the ruffling of clothes and Mike’s feet shifting back and forth on the floor. The weight on the bed shifted, and Mike crawled over on his hands and knees, peering down at Will from above with a crooked smile.
“Cool,” he said, lifting his eyebrows. “I’m in. Where are we running away to?”
“I don’t know,” Will admitted, narrowing his eyes. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Gotcha.” Mike tilted his head. He was wearing one of Will’s shirts, even though he had plenty of his own clothes stashed in the closet in case of an impromptu sleepover. It was a David Bowie tour shirt from a tour Will had definitely never seen, years before he was even aware of music outside of what his brother played on the radio. It was a little tattered, second-hand, and a little big on Mike. He had it tucked into a pair of shorts- Will’s- with a belt- also Will’s. Will narrowed his eyes further.
“I was gonna wear that,” he accused, and Mike’s smile widened.
“That’s a shame,” he hummed. “I guess you should’ve gotten up faster.”
Will pursed his lips, then reached out, tapping Mike’s nose.
“That a new zit?”
Mike blinked. Will did as well, once, twice, and by the third, there was a pillow being shoved over his face and held there.
A brief struggle later, the two of them were running down the stairs, racing for the bottom step and shoving each other out of the way. Will’s foot landed first, but Mike yanked him back with a hand on his wrist, hastily smacking him aside and pushing to the front. He narrowly dodged a swat, hopping out of the way and making for the door.
“Up-bup-bup!” Joyce shouted, waving her hands out in front of her and hurrying in from the dining room, where Hopper could be seen at the other end of the table with his nose in the morning paper. “First off, is running in the house really necessary? And second!” She cut in, before either boy could defend himself. She snatched something off the table on her way over. “Will, this came in the mail.”
Mike hovered over his shoulder as Will took the envelope, frowning down at it. He didn’t give it much of a once over, and he swatted his boyfriend out of the way, folding it in thirds and stuffing it in his pocket.
“Honey!” Joyce cried, hands on her hips. “That’s a college letter!”
“I’ll look at it later,” he dismissed, waving her, and Mike, who had no sense of personal space, off and out of his business. “We’re going to be late.”
“I’d like to hear what it says,” she protested, arms crossed.
“Later.”
“Be nice to your mom,” Hopper chastised, only half paying attention as he took a sip of his coffee.
“You can have it,” Will offered, reaching back into his pocket, but his mom shook her head.
“You’re fine,” she sighed. “But let me know once you open it, okay? I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”
Will smiled, and it only felt a little fake.
“You got it.”
His mom shot him a thumbs up, smile lighting up her face, and moved to pull him into a hug before he could budge from his spot. She squeezed him tight.
“See you at graduation,” she hummed, planting a kiss to the side of his head. “Love you. I’m proud of you.”
Will sank into the hug.
“Love you too.”
She didn’t bother letting go of him as she threw her other arm out, snagging Mike by the sleeve and pulling him in. Mike’s stupid bony elbow dug into his ribs.
“Both of you,” she gushed. “My boys. I swear, I just blinked, and suddenly…”
“Okay,” Will chuckled, patting her arm gently. “We really gotta go.”
“You’re right,” she conceded, drawing back with a sniff and a nod. “You’re right, you don’t need a dramatic old lady getting all weepy when you have places to be. Have fun.”
“Thanks,” Mike said, and he went back in for another hug, earning a delighted chuckle from Joyce and a fond eye roll from Will. Will offered Hopper a wave while he waited, and the man grunted, nodding back.
“See you tonight.”
The moment they were out the door, Mike turned to him with an expectant gaze.
“No,” Will huffed, and Mike held up his hands, shrugging.
“I didn’t say anything,” he defended.
“You didn’t have to.” Will stalked past him, making for the car. Mike kept up easily, crossing the distance in a few steps with his stupid long legs.
“I won’t tell anybody what it says,” Mike insisted, slipping into the passenger seat. Despite his 18 years of age, Mike was no closer to acquiring his license or his own car, so that seat was pretty much his property.
Will dropped himself into his seat with a sigh, rubbing at his face.
“I’ll look at it tomorrow,” he offered. “I just- I don’t wanna think about that stuff right now. College can wait, you know?”
Mike’s brow drew together, like he knew exactly where his head was at. Which he probably did. Will didn’t even have to say anything, and Mike knew.
“It’s our last day all being in the same school,” Will added softly, and Mike’s expression smoothed out, hand reaching across the console to rest on Will’s arm.
There was something else, though. The reason his mom had a good feeling about this one was because the other letters had been rejections.
…except for the fact that they hadn’t been, and Will had just been letting her think that.
The truth was that Will had been snatching them out of the mailbox before she could see, and Mike had been there with him on more than one occasion as he tore open the envelope and scanned its contents. In fact, he’d only been rejected by one out of five of the schools that had gotten back to him, and it had been such a stuck up place that he really hadn’t minded. But every one of those schools was expensive. They were expensive, and far away, and his mom and Hop were already helping Jonathan through college. And they were in a better spot financially than they’d been Will’s whole life, but college was still a lot, and El wanting to go somewhere local while Jon was still in school in New York was going to stretch them thin.
If Will was going to go anywhere, it was going to have to be because of the generosity of the school and a hell of a lot of scholarships.
And none of the offers had been even close to enough so far, so… any time his mom asked about it, he just said that nothing had worked out yet.
He hadn’t explained any of this reasoning to Mike, or told him not to rat him out, but Mike hadn’t batted an eye any of the times he lied to his mom. He hadn’t exactly lied with him, but he’d nodded along and patted his arm like he was comforting him. Hell, Mike probably understood having complicated feelings about college more than anybody. He understood.
Sometimes, it was as infuriating as it was comforting.
Brunch was an uneventful affair. They were teased mercilessly upon arrival, particularly due to Mike’s choice of wardrobe, but any playful poking quickly gave way for exactly what Will had been trying to avoid: college talk.
Unlike Will and Mike, everybody else knew exactly where they were going. Dustin had, of course, been gunning for MIT since as far back as any of them could remember, and he’d finally gotten his acceptance letter a few weeks ago, which meant that it had been brought up in every conversation since. Colleges had been frothing at the mouth for Lucas and his basketball prowess, so he’d basically had his pick of them, and he’d settled on Indiana State, for some reason. Although, if he thought about it, it made sense- Lucas had never been restless the way Will was, like something under his skin was itching to get away. He had a great relationship with his parents, with his extended family, and he had plans to come back during breaks and work with his dad. El was staying local too, picking up classes at a community college to get her grades up before she went for early education, but she wanted to get away after that, to finally see the world outside Hawkins and the little sliver of California she’d gotten for six months freshman year. Max was headed to Baltimore for school, and Will had his suspicions that El would end up there with her.
Nobody pushed Will or Mike for any details. They had, after all, had a lot on their plates this year. While their friends were researching schools, they’d been looking for adoptive parents, and the stress of it all had been more than enough of a distraction. They’d had their fair share of drama between the two of them, too, and as much as they’d tried to keep that just between the two of them, their friends picked up on it. They were dreadfully observant, even if Dustin and Lucas had been under the false impression they’d been dating since October. Their business had been everybody’s business, out in the open and ugly, and Will was content to keep things close to his chest, now.
Like the letter in his pocket, and the others stuffed in his desk drawer.
The college conversation didn’t last the whole time, but it was a prevalent topic, one they kept looping back to no matter what else popped up. And it made sense. They were graduating today, college was all anybody had on their minds, except maybe getting as far away from Hawkins, Indiana as possible.
It was fine. Mike was holding his hand under the table, and his friends were laughing and chattering on, the room lit up with bright smiles and this unshakeable sense of accomplishment. It was the sort of moment that had seemed so far away, once, one he hadn’t expected to reach when they were stuck in an apocalypse, or when he’d spent a week alone in hell. The whole past year, despite its hardships, had been nice in a way, because everything that had happened was so incredibly normal and mundane, such human, teenage problems, that it had been a welcome change of pace after all the monsters and nightmares.
And it had ended with Mike sitting so close their shoulders touched, wearing his clothes and tracing his thumb over his knuckles, so… he’d weather it all again if he had to.
“So,” Dustin said eventually, slamming his hands down on the table and pinning Will with an expectant look. “Anything new?”
Will blinked.
“Huh?”
“Pictures, man,” Dustin huffed, holding his hands out like a begging man. “Baby pictures.”
“Not since the last time you asked,” Mike said, rolling his eyes. Dustin groaned dramatically, nearly flopping forward onto the table if El hadn’t grabbed his arm first.
“Have you seen her yet?” Lucas asked carefully, a spark of curiosity in his eyes. Will shook his head.
“We send letters back, though,” Mike offered, tapping his free hand on the table. “Obviously she doesn’t read them, because like- she isn’t even three months old yet, but we talk to Diane and Linda. They’re so cool, man. We told you about their record store, right? They have all this stuff for the baby in the back room, and they have one of those bouncy chairs for her by the register. Customers are obsessed with her.”
“So you know how she’s doing,” Dustin concluded, eyes lighting up again. “Spill the beans.”
Will glanced at Mike. He’d taken a bite of his french toast, and when he met his eyes, he waved his fork, cueing him to take over satisfying their nosy friends.
“Um,” he started, pushing his eggs around his plate. “Well. She can hold her head up. She smiles now, although she spends most of her time sort of looking like she’s scowling.” He glanced at his boyfriend at that, and Dustin snorted so suddenly his drink nearly spurted out of his nose. Mike, of course, scowled about it. “And… she’s been trying to roll over, apparently, but they said she’s a little overexcited, because they don’t usually do that for another month or two.” He shrugged. “That’s about it. Babies don’t really do a whole lot.”
“Are you kidding?” Dustin scoffed. “That’s adorable. And incredible. I did lots of research after you guys told us about her, and it sounds like she’s hitting all her milestones and then some. She’s a little genius baby.”
“Guess there’s perks to both your dads being huge fucking nerds,” Mike offered, shrugging. “If you and Suzie ever have kids, I bet they’ll start walking, like, day two.”
“And their first words will be sung,” Lucas added, a hand to his heart. “Turn around, look at-“
“Shut up shut up shut up!” Dustin cried, red in the face from the tip of one ear right to the other. “It’s been four years!”
A beat of silence. Each of them exchanged glances, silent as Dustin huffed and puffed in his seat, hiding his face behind his hand.
A collective inhale.
“Look at what you seeeee!”
“Just so you know,” Mike murmured, pinky hooked through Will’s as they followed their friends out onto the field. It was hot, miserably so, and it was just the perfect time of day that the sun was directly in their eyes when they faced the stage. And the field was already crowded with people, all clustered together and chatting in loud voices that bounced off the stadium seats. “I’m still up for running away with you.”
Will hummed, lips twitching in a smile. He doubted they’d get very far, with their friends around them and their families already taking their seats, but he liked the idea that they could try. That they could have their big movie ending moment, share a look and take off running in the opposite direction, holding each other’s hands and clutching their stupid hats to their heads, robes trailing like capes in their wake before they jumped into a car with the top down and drove off into the sunset.
(Will’s car didn’t have a removable top, nor was it really his, but he could pretend. He thought they deserved a big, fancy happy ending.)
“We made it this far,” he said instead. “Might as well see it through.”
“Okay,” Mike hummed, shrugging. “Cuz this is just a ceremonial thing. We graduated already. Sitting and cooking in the sun just to walk across a stage for our parents to take pictures is just, like, for keepsakes. For when we’re 40 and pathetic and we peaked in high school.”
Will cocked an eyebrow, glancing at his boyfriend.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He waved a hand. “Not that I think we’re going to be 40 and pathetic, or that we peaked in high school. High school sucked.” He grimaced, tilting his head. “Unless the next twenty years are even worse.”
“Oh-kay,” Will said, swinging their hands between them. He clasped his hand around Mike’s, and he pulled him into a tight hug, letting his face press into his shoulder. “I’ll see you after, mkay?”
Mike’s head tipped down, curls brushing Will’s ear.
“‘Course,” he said. “You’re the only thing that’s gonna get me through dinner with our families.”
“Sorry I couldn’t talk them out of it.”
“Ted and Hopper,” Mike griped, giving him a short squeeze before letting go so Will could see the look on his face. “Last chance to run away.”
“No one is running away,” El interrupted, catching Will by the wrist. “Goodbye.”
“Bye!” Will called, putting up little protest as his sister started dragging him to their seats. He waved his free hand over his head, and Mike did the same, both arms over his head with his chin tilted up, a dramatic pout on his lips.
“Bye!” He yelled, and his voice cracked terribly, pitching up at the end and making a few people send dirty looks his way. But he didn’t let it deter him. He made a total fool of himself, bouncing on his heels and waving his arms as he became a smaller and smaller shape on the field. Mike didn’t have very far to go, anyway, stuck in the very last row in one of the very last seats. Will was used to being the opposite, stuck by himself up front with all the B names, but this time was different.
This time, he was about a third of the way through the alphabet, and he got to sit with El.
The seats for Jane T. Hopper and William M. Hopper were halfway through the fifth row. Dustin would be a few seats down from them, but he was a genius and an overachiever, so his spot was up onstage with the faculty and the salutatorian. He’d gotten here a little early to rehearse some things, and he picked them out as soon as they got to their seats, doing the same as Mike and looking like a giddy idiot in front of all their classmates.
Will waved back with a laugh.
“So,” El said, tugging at his sleeve. “What is it?”
“Hm?” He glanced over at her. She was staring at him with an inquisitive look, hand still hanging loosely from his sleeve.
“The thing in your pocket,” she explained, like it was obvious. Like he should’ve known better than to try and hide things from her. “I saw you stick it back in there after getting changed. What is it?”
“Oh.” Will wrinkled his nose. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s something,” she assured him. “Since you’re keeping it on your person. You either care about it, or you don’t want somebody else finding it. So.” She tipped her chin down, peering up at him through her bangs. Her prompt was silent this time, fully expecting him to cave.
Will wished she was wrong.
“It’s a college letter,” he admitted, crumbling like he was made of sand. “I haven’t read it yet.”
“So open it,” she concluded quickly, moving like she might stick her hand under his robe and collect it herself. He swatted her off with a start, hissing.
“Hands to yourself, oh my god,” he rushed out, cheeks tinged pink. “And no. Are you kidding? We’re kinda busy.”
“Who knows how long it’ll take to start?” She protested, pouting. “Come on. Open it. Open it, open it, open it. Open it please, please please-“
“Jesus,” he whispered, slipping his arm back inside his sleeve and fishing for his pocket. He brought the envelope back out through his sleeve, and had to move fast to keep it out of El’s grabbing hands. “Hey. Quit. I’ll open it, I’ll open it.”
El scooted closer, half on his chair, and pressed herself into his personal space. Her chin rested on his shoulder as he started at the envelope, sliding his thumb across carefully to try and keep it mostly intact. Nobody around them spared them any mind, wrapped up in their own time-killers.
Will slipped the letter out of the envelope, and his hands were a little shaky. Not that he knew why. He didn’t care, truly he didn’t, so he shouldn’t be getting worked up about it. It was silly. Mike wasn’t all that interested in college, at least not right now, so they’d probably figure something out between the two of them. They’d move away, to Chicago or New York or some fancy city, and they’d do whatever they wanted. All that mattered was getting out of Hawkins.
It was with this renewed sense of certainty that Will unfolded the letter, scanning its contents.
William Byers,
He made a face. See? Already off to a bad start.
Our representative was taken with your exhibition last spring, and we were pleased to see your application come in. Every year, we have a certain amount of money set aside for helping promising international students afford tuition and board. We’ve looked over your qualifications, and we’re happy to say that, if you still desire a place in our program, we will be able to provide full room, board, and tuition at no cost to you.
We hope to hear back from you soon.
-The London Institute
El’s hand found his bicep, her grip like a steel trap.
“Will.”
Will didn’t reply. El’s fingers dug into his arm, giving him a little shake.
“Will,” she repeated, more urgent this time. “Will.”
He didn’t know how to reply.
“Um.” He blinked. Blinked again. His grip on the paper tightened a little, crinkling it between his fingers. “Huh.”
“Huh?” She echoed, incredulous. “That’s good! That’s amazing! Oh, we have to tell Mom-“
“No!” He said quickly, grabbing her sleeve like he was worried she’d run to do it right this second. “We don’t, um- no.” At her bewildered look, his shoulder drooped, face a little more desperate. “Don’t. I don’t even know if I wanna go there.”
She tilted her head, as if to say, why the hell wouldn’t you, but she didn’t voice it, which he appreciated. He felt sort of off-kilter now, thrown. Hot and cold, stomach churning, filled with dread. Which was… weird, right? He should be happy. He was just worrying about how he’d afford college, and now the solution was literally sitting in his lap.
Full room, board, and tuition at no cost.
At no cost.
He could not top that, like at all. And it was a good school. A really good school. He would have to be an idiot to throw this sort of thing away.
But all he felt was sick.
“Please,” he tacked on pathetically, throat bobbing on a dry gulp. His sister stared at him for a second, and it was crazy, because they didn’t share a drop of blood but she still looked so much like Jonathan and his mom when she looked at him like that. They all did that thing, that head tilt with the searching, knowing eyes, like they knew exactly what sort of bullshit he’d invented in his head and they were trying not to make him feel bad about it.
Not intentionally pitying, but it brought the same curdled feeling to his gut, his pride shriveled in his chest.
Wordlessly, El pinched her finger and her thumb and ran them across her lips, zipping them shut. And as silly as it was, Will relaxed some. He sank back in his chair, and he fumbled with the letter, folding it back up and stuffing it back in the envelope. A pang of guilt hit him when he realized he’d opened it without Mike.
Mike.
Oh, that was a whole other can of worms. He was almost glad Mike didn’t watch him open it, which only made him feel more guilty. He should’ve just thrown the letter away when he had the chance, because now he had- he had hope, and that was a terrible, poisonous thing that could ruin everything he had going for him.
Fucking London. What the fuck? What the actual- what- what had he done that made them think he was worth all that? He wasn’t that good. Surely there must’ve been some mistake, some mixup, because people like him weren’t supposed to get good things like that, which, on the subject, his luck had been suspiciously good lately…
El’s ankle knocked his, and he drew in a breath, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Her brow was pinched with worry, but her eyes were soft. She nudged her head forward.
Dustin’s speech was starting.
Will sat taller, pushing all that into the back of his mind. He was the one who’d insisted on staying in the moment today. College was tomorrow Will’s problem. Today, all he had to do was sit and try not to look too ridiculous in his grad gown.
And try not to spill his guts to his boyfriend.
Mike came running the moment the ceremony was over, tossing his cap over his shoulder without a care and scooping him up with a startling show of strength. Will yelped, hand flying to steady his own cap, and he clung to Mike’s shoulders as he spun him around. He hissed at him- less than three months later, he was still technically recovering, and Will wasn’t light- but he went entirely ignored. Mike’s nose pressed to his chest, forehead to his clavicle, and Will let his grip around Mike’s neck loosen.
He was dropped back down onto the terf, finally, and was greeted with Mike’s beaming face. His boyfriend didn’t wait long before going back in for more, tucked into the crook of his neck with his arms wrapped around him. His hair tickled Will’s jaw, and he huffed, blowing at some of it and settling his hands between Mike’s shoulder blades.
“We did it,” Mike hummed, and Will’s skin crawled where his breath hit, goosebumps flaring up. Will turned his face to the side, closing his eyes and breathing him in.
For as much as he complained about Hawkins, there were good things. He’d met Mike here. They’d spent their childhoods here, together. They’d fallen in love here.
London didn’t have that.
Mike smelled like Hawkins. He smelled like his basement and the Wheelers’ laundry detergent, still the same one they’d always used even though his mom hadn’t set foot in the house since last year. Old habits and all that, he supposed.
Mike was here, was what was important, and Mike had said he’d go anywhere Will went, but was there a limit to that?
“Hey,” Mike murmured, pulling back to look him in the eye. His gaze bounced across his face, searching. “You okay?”
Will opened his mouth, drew a breath, then snapped it shut. His lips spread in a wide, only slightly wary grin.
“Yeah!” He rubbed his hands up and down Mike’s shoulder blades, settling them high on his back. “I’m good. I’m great. I’m-“ He tapped his hands against his back again, then moved them to his cheeks, cupping them and pulling him down for a kiss. It was a successful distraction, of course, but Mike’s brow still had a little furrow when he let him go, only partially smoothed by the warm flush on his cheeks and the smile gracing his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, ‘course,” Will assured him. His hands fell to the sides of Mike’s neck, rubbing gently, and Mike’s settled on his hips. None of their friends commented, of course, used to their antics and busy running off to their families. And his family certainly didn’t say anything. He knew his mom was probably wearing a smug grin, and Hopper was probably rolling his eyes and grumbling good naturedly, but there would be no interruptions from any of them.
It wasn’t any of them that popped their little bubble, nor was it Mike’s guests. Last Will looked, Ted was busy wrangling Holly, and Nancy and Jonathan were glued to each other’s sides. No, it was somebody else who called out, who drew Mike’s attention up over his head with a deeper furrow to his brow, only for his grip to tighten on Will’s waist.
Will twisted around, and-
Well.
Now his problems all felt rather silly, really.
Because it was Karen Wheeler walking towards them, Mike’s cap clutched between her hands, and that was a far bigger, far more pressing issue than anything else.