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Mike’s eyes were glazing over. 

As Ted Wheeler droned on at the end of the dinner table, something about Ronald Reagan’s latest political initiative and how it was going to fix everything that was wrong in their country, Mike counted down the minutes until he could feasibly walk out of the door without starting a fight. 

Even though, after listening to his dad’s latest political ideals, he wanted to start one. So. Fucking. Badly. 

As a senior in high school, Mike knew he didn’t know a lot. Hell, Mike knew that he knew almost nothing, but he knew that he would never in a million years vote for Ronald Reagan to be president again. 

Not that he could run again. Thank the God that Mike didn’t actually believe in. 

Mike’s mom stood up from the table, taking hers and Ted’s plates, and Mike shot up from his chair. “Are you off to your club?” she asked, glancing over at him before taking the plates into the kitchen. 

Clumsily grabbing his plate along with Holly’s, Mike followed her. “Yeah, yeah, if that’s still okay.” 

“Of course it’s okay, Michael.” His mom smiled at him and placed the plates in the sink before grabbing the two that he held. “Be back before eleven, okay?” 

“Okay. Thanks, Mom!” Mike waved at Holly as he grabbed his old leather jacket and basically ran out the door, grabbing the bike he purposefully left on the porch, swinging himself onto it and pushing off. He couldn’t get out of that house fast enough. 

Lately it felt like he couldn’t do anything right, he mused as he biked through the dark streets of Hawkins. It didn’t feel so scary, not since the monsters left and the gates closed for good, but the dark still sent a chill down his spine. Nothing was worse than the chill he felt when he met his dad’s apathetic gaze, though. Ted (as Mike had started calling him in his head) was mean and hated him, and though they never talked about it, Mike knew that Ted saw right through him. Every time he looked at Mike, he looked at his long hair, his black, chipped nail polish, his dark clothes and thin necklace, and he bit back the words that Mike had been starting to wonder about himself, the–

Mike cut off his own internal monologue, pumping his legs harder, trying to outrun the slurs that he used to fight kids like Troy for when they threw them at Will Byers and his other friends (but especially Will, because–well, that was another train of thought he veered away from). 

He twisted his bike handles, turning into a now-familiar neighborhood, parking his bike in front of Robin Buckley’s house, and bounded up the front steps, knocking politely before letting himself in. 

“Wheeler!” he heard Eddie’s voice from the couch. 

“Hey,” Mike said. Relief and a sense of safety were rolling off of him in waves as he kicked his Converse off and waved at the already gathered group. Robin was handing out drinks, playing host, and Eddie, Steve, Dustin, Erica, Lucas, and Max were all sitting in the living room. “How’s it going?” 

“Good!” came a chorus of voices. 

Mike smiled before he frowned a little bit. “Wait, where’s Will?” 

“And Jane,” he heard Dustin say, mocking tone ever-present. 

Mike waved him off. 

“Not here yet,” Robin said. “Sit down. What do you want to drink?” 

“Just water, thanks,” he said, smiling at her as he sat on the floor next to Max. “Are they on their way?” 

“Your boyfriend will be here, don’t worry,” Max said to him without looking over. 

To be fair, Mike mused as his face flushed and everyone laughed at his expense, she couldn’t see, so she had no need to look at him, but– “The disrespect, I swear,” he muttered, knowing everyone would launch in and tease and he could get a little lost in the voices. 

When the Party all joined in, laughing and making fun of him, he counted to five before adding to Max, under the din of voices, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yet,” she said, still looking straight ahead. 

Mike rolled his eyes and flipped her off. 

“Mike is flipping you off,” Jane said from behind him. 

Mike jumped and placed a hand on his chest, whirling to look at Jane’s smug face and, directly behind her, Will’s gentle smile. “Jane,” he said. “Warn a guy.” 

“No,” she said, worming her way in between Mike and Max, leaning her head onto Max’s shoulder and smiling. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Max said, bright and joyful, a complete reversal of how she talked to Mike. She put her arm around Jane, squeezing tight.

Mike rolled his eyes and turned to Will, sitting down next to him on the other side. “Hi!” he said, his voice too strained, too loud, like always.

“Hey,” Will said, his voice normal. Because of course. 

Will didn’t feel the giant, embarrassing swoop of sensations that Mike felt in his stomach whenever they made eye contact, and he definitely didn’t have elaborate fantasies of how they would spend their whole life together and have adopted children and a perfect house and D&D games with their friends for the rest of their lives and write and illustrate books together and kiss and maybe more and–

Mike avoided eye contact and pushed it down, the feeling becoming a lead weight in his stomach, rather than the butterflies that had just been there. 

Will just turned to take a glass of water from Robin, passing it to Mike before taking a second glass for himself. 

“Thanks,” Mike said, taking the glass without touching any part of Will, even as his fingers twitched and tried to do so of their own accord. Traitors.

Will frowned a little and Mike fought back the influx of guilt that he always felt during this weird push and pull they existed in recently. 

Steve clapped his hands and everyone turned to him. “Okay, now that we’re all here, I think we should get started.” 

“Who put you in charge?” Dustin asked. 

“Robin’s house, Robin’s rules,” Steve said, snide but fond, placing his hands on his hips with a dishtowel thrown over his shoulder. “Listen up, everyone. Eddie has been working on this campaign for a long time, and I may not understand it totally, but from what he’s told me, it’s going to be awesome, and gruesome, and wonderful, and you little shits are going to love it.”

“Who the hell are you calling a little shit?” Erica asked, scrunching her nose in distaste. 

“Not you,” Steve said quickly, which Mike smiled a little at. He never got the full story of the mall incident the summer of ‘85, but he knew Erica would milk whatever occurred for the rest of her life, and Steve would bow to her whims without a moment’s protest. Which was always amusing for him. 

Eddie cleared his throat before Erica could snap back. “Get ready,” he said, ominously, “for a diabolical tale.” 

Mike let Eddie’s voice drift over him, allowing the sensation he always experienced while playing D&D to wash over his shoulders, clearing his mind. All he was concerned about was his character sheet, his dice, the story, and his best friend at his side. 

*** 

“Mike,” Eddie said as everyone began to clean up. 

He glanced up and smiled. “Hey.” 

Eddie being able to stand was a miracle to him, still. After the Demobats, it had taken many months before Eddie was able to talk, let alone walk, and now here he was in front of Mike, dressed in his alternative gear, looking like a fucking dreamboat on steady, strong legs, and–

Mike shook his head a little. “What’s up?” 

Eddie caught him by the elbow, gently. “What’s up with you?” 

Mike startled a little at the question, making direct eye contact with Eddie, which he knew immediately was a mistake. Eddie had this unsettling way of looking directly into someone’s soul, especially if they were trying to keep a secret, and… 

Well. Mike had so many of those. 

“Nothing,” he said after too long a time had passed. 

Eddie quirked an eyebrow at him and, still holding onto Mike’s arm, dragged him down the short hallway into Robin’s room. 

Mike watched, mouth slightly agape, as Eddie closed the door, and tripped when Eddie pushed him towards the bed. “Wha–”

“Sit,” Eddie said. 

Mike sat. 

Eddie’s eyes were crazy, Mike decided, as they stared at each other. Large, endless brown pools of knowledge, boring into his soul for some unknown reason. 

“What the hell?” Mike finally asked. 

Eddie crossed his arms, his bracelets jingling as he did. “Have you thought about what I said?” 

Mike flashed back to a month prior, right before school started, when he had driven Eddie to physical therapy and Eddie had told him to park the car so they could have a talk. He flushed. “Not really,” he said. 

Eddie sighed and sat next to Mike, turning his body to face him directly. “Mike,” he said, his tone quiet and gentle, a rapid 180 from how he had just been talking. “I think you need to talk about it. Get it out somehow.” 

“I don’t really want to, though,” Mike said, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Have you even said the words out loud?” 

(“I think you know what I mean,” Eddie had said, a soft look on his face as his fingers drummed on his lap, adorned with rings that caught Mike’s eyes every time. “You’re like me, Wheeler.” 

“Like you how?” Mike asked, even though he knew the answer. 

“You’re a boy kisser,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes, a fond expression on his face.

“I am not,” Mike had protested, but the words sat somewhere deep in his gut and a scene flashed in his head, a fantasy he had avoided, looked away from, for too long now, with a specific face attached, and–

“Okay,” Eddie had said, smiling briefly before looking ahead. “I just thought… I thought maybe you wanted to talk about it with someone who got it.”

“I’ve never kissed a boy,” Mike said, petulant. 

“I know.” He was calm, thoughtful, as he looked back at Mike. “I just think you’d like to.”

“I’m… I’m not…” 

“Mike.”

Mike turned and looked ahead, feeling the unfamiliar sting of tears at the corners of his eyes, and he took a deep breath. “Can we talk about this another time?” 

“Maybe our next D&D session?” 

“Sure,” Mike had said. Anything to avoid this conversation for now. “Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll hold you to that.”

And apparently, Eddie had meant it.) 

“No,” Mike whispered. “I haven’t said them out loud, because I don’t even know… I’ve had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “One girlfriend in middle school and freshman year of high school.” 

“So doesn’t that make me…” He squirmed. “Straight?” Even that word felt gross to him, heavy on his tongue. 

“Have you liked another girl?” 

Mike frowned and looked down at their hands, close to each other on Robin’s bed. “No, but… I don’t know, I think I don’t really… like, if I liked… you know, boys, I would get crushes on them a lot, too, right? But I barely like anybody.” 

Eddie laughed, a soft, pleased sound that seemed to surprise him even as he did it. “And that’s why I like you, Wheeler,” he said, clapping Mike on the shoulder lightly. “You don’t like anybody except those you’re very close to.” 

“Eddie…” 

He hummed in response, waiting. 

Mike looked up and met his eyes, searching for something as he said, “Maybe I’m just broken.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Maybe I’m… I mean, I feel like I’ve watched Dustin, and Lucas since he and Max broke up, like a different girl every month, and I… I don’t feel that about anybody. I liked Jane and that was… nice, but it was so childish, and I… well.” 

“Maybe you just don’t like people until you feel really close to them.” Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know that whatever you and Byers have?”

Mike flinched away, looking out of Robin’s window. A single lamppost shone about half a block away.

Eddie placed a gentle hand on Mike’s shoulder. “That’s the real shit.”

“I can’t,” Mike whispered. 

“Why? Why can’t you?” 

“Will… he deserves…” 

“What? Better?” Eddie asked calmly. 

Mike nodded, still looking away. 

“But he loves you.” 

Mike sighed. “But I can’t love him.” 

“Because you’re closeted,” Eddie said. “Sure.” 

Mike glanced back and shrugged, the fear that gripped him slipping away a little bit with the words hanging in the air like that. “Maybe. I don’t know, but… maybe. And… my dad, and Hawkins, it’s…” 

“I know.” Eddie gripped his shoulder more tightly. “I know.” 

“I don’t want to… I should…” Mike looked at Robin’s door, still closed tight. “They’ll come looking for us, and…” 

“Yeah, this would be a weird thing for them to walk into,” Eddie said, a smile blooming on his face. “I get it. But I need you to know that I’m here for you if you ever want to talk.” 

“Thanks,” Mike said, quiet, as he clambered to his feet, his limbs too long and gangly for his body, as always. Mike never felt like he fit inside his own body, like he was trying to escape the blood that ran through his veins. He stumbled a little. 

Eddie stood and drew him into a tight hug. 

Mike tensed for a moment, arms frozen at his sides, before he let them slip up and around Eddie’s waist, finding purchase in Eddie’s black denim jacket and pushing his face into Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Hey, Mike, Ed, where–” The door opened and Mike heard Steve pause. “Uh. Hey.” 

“Hey,” Eddie said quietly as Mike let go reluctantly. “We were just checking in. DM stuff.” 

“Sure.” Steve’s eyes slid from Eddie’s face to Mike’s, curiosity practically emanating from his body. “Dungeon Master to Dungeon Master.” 

Mike nodded, not sure he was able to really talk yet. 

“Um, everyone’s starting to head out, and…” Steve glanced over his shoulder. “I figured you would want to, you know. Say goodbye.”

Mike frowned. “Me?” 

“Will and Jane are taking off, man,” Steve said. 

Mike bit his lip, feeling like he was see-through, and nodded briskly, stepping around Steve and leaving him and Eddie to discuss… whatever the two of them talked about when they were alone. “Hey,” he said, watching as Will shrugged on his coat and helped Jane into her giant sweater. 

“Hey, I was going to come find you to say goodbye,” Will said, looking over and smiling at him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, I just… Eddie wanted to talk,” Mike said. “See you at school tomorrow?” 

Will nodded and took two steps closer to Mike, giving him a quick hug, and pulled back with a smile on his face, looking so normal and… goddamn… kissable, Mike could scream. “See you tomorrow. Make sure you finish your physics homework.”

“I did it already,” Mike said, feeling oddly prickly. His eyes slid to the middle of Will’s forehead, avoiding his eyes like his life depended on it.

Will’s smile broadened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, well,” Mike grumbled. “I could have.”

Will laughed. “Bye, Mike. Thanks, Robin!” 

Mike waved despite himself, feeling silly, as he turned and met Jane’s even gaze. 

“Goodbye, Mike,” she said, her expression unreadable. 

“Bye,” he said, smiling a little at her. 

She tilted her head. “Would you like a hug?” 

He paused. “Sure?” 

And then Jane was hugging him, quick and a little too hard, before darting out of the open door, past Will, who stood holding the door with a bemused expression. 

Mike shrugged at him, hoping he got across the message that it didn’t mean anything to him, even though– 

Well. Why would Will care? 

Will gave a little wave before pulling the door closed behind him. 

Mike was standing alone in Robin’s foyer, still in his socks and jacket still in the closet, and everyone except Steve and Eddie were gone. 

“You okay?” Robin asked. 

Mike turned and met her eyes as she put dishes away, but unlike Jane, Robin’s expression was an easy read–her eyes sparkling with mischief and her mouth fighting back a teasing grin. “Fine,” he muttered, reaching for his shoes and yanking them on. “Thanks for hosting.”

“Anytime,” she sang. “Happy to have people in my house whenever.”

Mike pulled on his jacket. 

“Seriously,” she added 

Mike glanced at her again, and the mirth had died from her face, leaving behind a serious expression. 

“I am happy to have you anytime.”

“Am I… Are you and Eddie conspiring?” Mike asked, squinting at her with as much disdain as he could muster. 

“Yes,” Eddie said, coming out from Robin’s bedroom, Steve in tow directly behind him.

“Well, you don’t have to,” Mike said. “I’m fine.” He lifted his hands in an awkward double thumbs-up, a half-hearted smile flashing across his face for three seconds. 

“Why are we conspiring?” Steve asked. 

“No reason,” Robin said hurriedly. 

“Yeah, just… picking on little Wheeler here,” Eddie said. 

Mike rolled his eyes, grateful that they hadn’t told Steve anything, but hating the nickname. “Goodnight, you three,” he said, opening the door and stepping into the frigid air. He shut the door behind him to a chorus of goodnights and got on his bike, prepared to go home to a tense household with a mother who didn’t really see him, and a father who maybe saw him a little too clearly. 

His bike ride home took much longer than the ride there had been. 

*** 

Will liked his job at the bookstore, he really did. 

Just sometimes, working with Steve and Robin (who somehow managed to get another part time job together, but refused to share how they worked that particular brand of magic) was a little annoying. 

Like today, for instance. Will was trying to peacefully stack shelves, and Robin was following him around, trying to convince him that Mike was in love with him, through an extended metaphor that he had given up on following fifteen minutes before. 

“And you see, if you two could just be seals in the open ocean, you could hold hands for life, and you would be happy,” Robin said, triumph lacing her voice, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “And you would have me to thank for finally pushing you to tell him how you feel!”

“Who?” Steve asked, poking his head around a shelf, dropping a book with a clatter. He groaned and got off his stepladder, picking it up and brushing some dust off the cover. 

“Nobody,” Robin said, smirking at Will. 

Will rolled his eyes and re-ordered a book that a customer had probably tried to re-shelf but got wrong. 

“Clearly not nobody,” Steve muttered under his breath. The bell jingled, and three girlish voices drifted across the store. Steve rolled his eyes at Robin and, fixing his hair, made his way to the desk. 

“Steve’s an idiot,” Robin said fondly. 

“Yeah,” Will said. “Thanks for not telling him. I know you tell each other almost everything.”

“Your secret is not mine to share,” she said loftily. “Now. Do you think you can be a seal?” 

“I’m pretty sure you’re talking about sea otters,” Will mused, placing another book on the shelf, pulling them to the front so they were flush to the shelf in a uniform manner, before turning to look at Robin. “They’re the ones who hold hands.”

“Seals, sea otters, whatever. You’re madly in love with that stupid boy, and he’s never going to know if you don’t say anything.” Robin’s eyes were alight, and she waggled her eyebrows up and down. 

“He’s not gay, Robin,” Will said, knowing he sounded as exasperated as he felt and feeling guilty for it. 

“Who has the best gaydar in Hawkins?” Robin asked. “Huh? Who? You?” 

Will shrugged. He had never felt like he understood what gaydar really was, needing to see Robin and Vickie kiss before he understood, needing Eddie to explicitly tell him he liked boys before he took in all the details that he probably should have caught before. “No. But I don’t think your gaydar is working right here. It’s biased because you’re rooting for us.” He lowered his voice a little as one of the girls passed close by. “Which is sweet, but, come on, Robin. I came out almost two years ago, and M– well, he could have said anything since then, and he hasn’t.”

“Because he’s stupid and a coward,” Robin said, brushing him off with a roll of her eyes. “You will probably have to be the one to make the first move. He’s not exactly his sister.”

“No,” Will said, a smile creeping onto his face. “Nobody is.”

“And think how cute family dinners could be!” she added. “Keeping it in the family!”

Will wrinkled his nose and shook his head dramatically. “Gross, Robin.”

“I’m just saying!”

“That’s not helping your argument,” he protested. 

She smirked and grabbed the box of books she had set down close to thirty minutes before, abandoned as she rambled at him. “I’m just saying. Think about it.” With that, she marched off to do inventory. 

Will placed a new book on the shelf, front facing out, and put the little handwritten card under it, declaring it a staff pick by the owner of the shop, the routine helping him keep his mind clear, because there was no way Robin was right, and if Will stopped to think about any of this, really think about it, he may drive himself crazy. 

(Crazy together, the voice in his brain whispered, and Will wanted to cry a little.) 

It wasn’t that Will didn’t want to believe Robin. He did, but… he was a realist, and bad shit always happened to him, and Will couldn’t fathom something so wonderful like Mike Wheeler falling in love with him, because, well, Will was just Will, and Mike was… 

Mike was everything. 

Will made a face at himself and put his hands on his hips, leaning his head against the bookshelf and taking a deep breath. 

Mike was light, and storm clouds and harsh angles, and everything he did felt magical and powerful, and Will had been watching him with the same stupid, awestruck expression since he was five, except for the three month period when he had been a little in love with Lucas, but that ended as softly as it began and it was Mike again, and he couldn’t make himself believe that Mike loved him, because if he did… if he did… 

Will couldn’t believe he would ever be so lucky. 

“You could get married,” Robin’s voice said from his left. 

Will jumped and stood up fully, turning to glare at her. “We couldn’t.”

She shrugged. “Not legally, but you still could. Have babies. Live happily ever after.”

“He knows I’m gay, Robin,” Will said, pitching his voice low and looking around the shop, hyper-aware of his surroundings like he always was when this subject came up. “He’s had time to tell me if he felt the same way.”

She shrugged and bounced off to stand next to Steve, who was leaning across the desk, flirting with one of the girls who was holding a book. 

Will watched as Robin exclaimed at the girl, stating how much she loved that book, and took over Steve’s conversation with ease, laughing a little when Steve flipped Robin off behind the stranger’s back. 

(What if she’s right? his traitorous brain asked. But she couldn’t be. There was no way.) 

Will felt exhausted all of a sudden in his bones and, groaning from the weight of it, placed another book on the shelf. 

*** 

“Dude, what the hell is going on with Eddie and Mike?” Steve asked. 

Dustin raised his eyebrows at Steve and threw a piece of popcorn in the air, catching it in his mouth, chewing obnoxiously. “What do you mean?” 

He watched as Steve’s face went through a myriad of emotions. Steve had such an expressive face that Dustin could always tell what Steve was thinking, sometimes before he even knew himself, Dustin was pretty sure. It wasn’t Steve’s fault–Dustin’s brain worked on overdrive, catching signals and hints before anybody else’s possibly could, and while that talent was fun sometimes, it was also exhausting and overstimulating. 

But in this scenario, fun. 

“Eddie pulled Mike into Robin’s room at D&D and when I went in to get them, they were hugging pretty tight and Mike had like, almost crawled into Eddie’s skin,” Steve said. 

“Gross,” Dustin said. “But good description.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what it looked like, man.” He frowned. “It looked like… I don’t know, like I was interrupting something.”

Dustin raised his eyebrows and brushed an errant curl out of his eyes. “Like what?” 

Steve shifted, features morphing into a hesitant, uncomfortable distant gaze. “I don’t know. I… Eddie is a lot older than Mike.”

“So?” 

“So, what if they’re…” Steve hesitated again and shook his head, flushing furiously as he looked away. “No way. I can’t…” 

Dustin caught up and gasped. “No. They can’t–”

“They might,” he argued. 

“Nope,” he insisted. “Mike and Eddie are not…” Dustin cut himself off with a fervent shake of his head. “They aren’t.” 

“Then what else was going on?” Steve pressed him. “I know Eddie’s gay, and Mike hasn’t dated anyone since Jane, so…” 

“No,” Dustin insisted. “Mike’s not into guys, and Eddie’s, like, significantly older. Maybe they were just talking about something emotional or something.”

“You didn’t see this hug,” Steve said. “It was like the two of them were clinging to one another and I definitely walked in on it and ruined the mood, or something.” 

“Doesn’t matter. I refuse to think about it. You’re wrong.”

Steve sighed and leaned back against the couch cushions, folding his arms over his chest. “Fine. I was just thinking about it and wanted to run it by you, but if you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure,” Dustin said. “And you’re an idiot.”

“Rude,” Steve said easily. “See if I ever hang out with you again.”

Dustin knew this was an idle threat, so he ignored it. Instead, he took in Steve’s posture, both relaxed into the couch and tense in the shoulders, and his frozen, almost bitter expression, and he tapped his fingers against his legs before sighing. “You don’t actually think that Eddie and Mike are together, right?” 

“No, no,” Steve said quickly, glancing over. “No. I just had the wondering.”

“The wondering,” Dustin mimicked back. 

Steve huffed out a breath. “You know what I mean.”

“And you were concerned because Mike is so young? And, as far as we know, straight?” Although, some things Mike has hinted at recently have caused Dustin to also, well, have the wondering, as Steve so eloquently said. 

“Yeah,” Steve said after a moment’s hesitation. “Because Mike is so young compared to Eddie.” 

“Why’d you pause, man?” Dustin asked. 

“I didn’t.”

“You did.” 

Steve drummed his fingers against his crossed arms. “I just felt weird about it, I don’t know,” he said after a lengthier pause. “It doesn’t matter.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes at his friend and calculated for a moment. “You’ve been hanging out with Eddie a lot,” he said after the silence dragged on for probably forty seconds too long. 

“Yeah.” Steve shot him a sideways glance. “He’s one of my best friends.” 

“You used to hate him,” he said. 

“Hey, not cool,” Steve said, quiet, looking down with shame all over his face. “I didn’t know him and I was a dick before… all this stuff. You know that.” 

“I know.” Dustin thought for a moment. “You haven’t gone on a date in a little while.”

“I date,” Steve said, sitting up straight and glaring at him. “I just haven’t told you because nothing has happened. First date duds.”

“Sure,” Dustin said, trying to be as agreeable as possible even as his brain did its job and made connections. “When was the last time?” 

“Sunday.” Steve shrugged. “She kept saying that she wanted to settle down as soon as possible.”

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“Well, I…” A light blush stained Steve’s face, high on his cheeks, and he shrugged. “I don’t know what I want, and she was so sure, and it didn’t seem fair to her.” 

“Okay.” Dustin watched as Steve’s face got a little bit more red and decided that he didn’t need to push any more. “Well, sorry, man. I hope it gets a little easier for you.”

What Dustin really hoped, of course, was that Steve would do a little more introspection and come to the same conclusion he had just reached, but that was asking a lot of Steve’s brain, which was, of course, exercised less often than it really should be. 

But Dustin could hope. 

“Star Wars?” he asked, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on, facing away from Steve and letting the color recede from his face, like a goddamn saint. 

*** 

“They’re so stupid,” Robin moaned, putting her head in her hands and shaking her head. “I don’t know how to help them more. They could be so happy!”

Eddie nodded, flicking through his records and pulling out a Metallica record, placing it gently in the record player and turning it on, volume midway. “I think Mike needs to get his head out of his ass, but I don’t know how to help him more if he refuses to talk to me about it.”

Robin flopped on Eddie’s bed, turning her head to stare him in the face. “What do you say we have a sweet lavender marriage and run away from everyone? The stupidity of our friend group might kill me if we stick around.”

Eddie laughed and poked her face. “I love you, but we can’t do that.”

“Well, as long as you love me,” Robin sighed. She grabbed one of Eddie’s pillows, hugging it to her chest. “So what do we do? Will thinks Mike is straight, Mike thinks Will doesn’t love him, Will is head over heels for him but will never tell him, Mike can’t even say the word gay, and it’s just a disaster!” 

Eddie smiled fondly at his friend, grateful to have her in his life. He took a deep breath, wincing at the ever-present pain in his lungs that will probably always linger, and held up his hand. “I’m going to stop you there, Rob,” he said. “I want them to get it together–and get together–as much as you do, but Mike clearly has some shit to work through.”

“But he could work through it with Will,” she whined. “While kissing, and being adorable and happy.”

“You’re not wrong,” Eddie mused, sitting criss-cross and leaning his chin on his hand, watching as Robin’s melodramatic face pouted across from him. 

“Nancy says Ted Wheeler is very homophobic, though,” Robin added, making a face at the ceiling. 

“Not surprising,” Eddie said, nodding easily. “He’s a dick, so. At least he’s consistent.”

“Yeah.”

The two were quiet for a minute. 

Eddie took the time to think about living in a house with a homophobic dad, flashing back to his own childhood before he moved in with his uncle, the way his dad used to shout at him for everything–growing his hair long, his style, his jewelry choices, being too loud, too much, too gay–and thought about Mike Wheeler, emulating his style, maybe without realizing, wanting to love a boy but being told his whole life that he was wrong to do so, and Eddie felt pain stirring in his chest for his younger friend. 

“I just want them to be happy,” Robin repeated, her voice a whisper. 

“Me, too,” Eddie said. 

“And you.” Robin’s head turned and she reached out a hand for him to take. 

Eddie took her hand gingerly and squeezed it. 

“I want you to be happy, too.”

“Oh, I see,” Eddie said, fighting back a smile as he swung Robin’s hand a little, holding it in his like it was porcelain, like Robin was breakable, even though Eddie knew she wasn’t, not really. “You’re in a happy relationship and you want all your friends to be, too. Is that what this is?” 

“Guilty,” she said, smiling brightly at him. 

He laughed. “I appreciate it, but I’m okay.”

“Really? No cute guys on the horizon for Eddie Munson?” 

Steve’s face appeared unbidden to Eddie’s mind, but he shook his head. “Nope. Not right now. I’m busy with my campaign.”

“That’s bullshit, and we both know it,” Robin said, “but okay. We can drop it.”

A knock came at Eddie’s bedroom door and his uncle called through, “Dinner!”

Robin sat up, dropping Eddie’s hand. “I should go.”

“No,” Eddie said, firm. “You’re always welcome for dinner.”

“I–” Robin hesitated before nodding, a grateful smile on her face. Eddie knew she hated going home to eat alone, and with her mom on another business trip and Steve on another fucking first date, she had nowhere easily accessible to go. “Thanks, Ed.”

“What did I tell you about that nickname?” he protested, taking the needle off the record and following Robin out of his room for what was sure to be a loud, chaotic dinner with one of his best friends, a smile plastered on his face as he went. 

*** 

Jane Hopper may not understand many social cues, but she knew Will was hiding something from her, which was ridiculous (adj: deserving or inviting derision or mockery; absurd), considering she had been there every time he told a terrible secret to all his friends. 

(“I don’t like girls,” he had said, tears in his eyes, which, okay, Jane knew this was not considered normal, but she grew up in a lab and was experimented on by her kidnapper for her entire life, so she did not think this was a big deal. She liked boys, too, so it was just something else she and Will had in common.

“Vecna put a tube in my mouth and put eggs in me, which is where the Demodogs came from” was a much worse secret, and Jane remembered the sinking feeling she got when Will told her this in a hushed tone, a year after everything had ended. “It was so violating,” he had said. Another new word to her, but Jane learned the definition that night and needed to throw up.) 

Regardless, Jane was determined to find out why Will was being evasive (adj: tending to avoid commitment or self-revelation), and she knocked on his door four times, her shoulders determined as she waited. 

Will’s voice answered after a long pause. “Come in.” 

Jane opened the door and stood in Will’s doorway, hands on her hips as she surveyed the scene. 

Will was sitting on his bed, legs crossed, hunched over his sketchbook, drawing while Madonna played quietly next to him. He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. 

She glanced at his bed. 

He nodded. 

Jane liked that they did not always need words. She closed the door and sat next to him. She watched him draw for two minutes before she decided to speak, poking his leg with her socked foot. “What is going on with you?” 

“Nothing,” he said, looking up at her. His hair was getting long, a gentle curl keeping it from falling completely in his face. “I’m drawing.”

“You know what I mean,” she said. 

“I really don’t.” Will made a few more brush strokes before setting his sketchbook aside and placing his full attention on her. “What do you mean?” 

“You have been avoiding me,” Jane said. 

He looked confused, and Jane almost believed him, but she knew Will was a skilled actor. She had seen it in action whenever Will wanted to get away with something with Joyce or Hopper. “I haven’t.”

“You have,” she insisted. “And I do not know why.”

Will watched her for a moment. “I’m not avoiding you,” he said again. “I’m just… I’m tired, and school is kicking my ass, and I…”

Jane watched as Will searched for the right words to say. 

“I don’t know,” he finished lamely. 

All that thinking, and all he could say was ‘I don’t know’. Jane rolled her eyes, placing her hands primly in her lap. She rolled the bracelet Max gave her around with her fingers and shook her head. “We always talk, and now we do not. Why?” 

“We’re talking right now,” he protested. 

“We are not talking about anything real,” she said. “I am forcing us to, and you still are not saying anything.”

Will sighed and leaned back, letting his head hit the wall behind him with a thunk. “Jane…” 

“Did I do something?” 

His eyes snapped to hers and he sat up straight, leaning over to grab one of her hands, gripping it in his own. “No! No, you didn’t,” he said, shaking his head. “No.”

“Then what?” Jane was aware she sounded like a child, petulant (adj: childishly sulky or bad-mannered) in her tone. 

“I… I’m just, you know. Thinking a lot.”

“And you cannot talk to me if you’re thinking a lot?” 

He shook his head. “I can. I just have been… avoidant. I’m sorry.”

“Evasive.”

“Yes.”

They sat there, hand in hand, for a moment. 

“You hugged Mike the other day. At Robin’s,” Will said, breaking the silence. 

Jane blinked, surprised. “Yes,” she said. “He looked sad.”

Will watched her face. 

“And we are friends,” she added. 

“It was a very tight hug,” Will said. 

“Is that… bad?” she asked. She was still unsure of the rules, even though she and Mike had broken up a long time ago. She thought she could hug her friends, even if they once used to kiss. 

“Not bad,” Will hurried to reassure her. “No, just… are you…”

Jane tilted her head and watched, fascinated, as Will seemed to struggle to finish his thought, several emotions flashing across his face that she could not decipher. 

“Do you think you like him again? Or, I guess, still?” 

She frowned. “No. I dumped his ass.”

Will huffed out a quiet laugh and nodded. “You did. I just, I guess I didn’t know–you have so much history, and you could probably ask him back out anytime and he would, you know, be excited and, well.” He shrugged. 

Jane shook her head. “I would not ask him out again. We were not healthy.”

“Yeah, but right person, wrong time is a thing,” Will said. 

“I do not understand that phrase.” She waited for Will to explain. He always explained so well. 

“Well, it’s when you date someone and the timing is bad. Like you should have dated at another time, when you were both in a better place, and it would work out then, because… because you were meant for each other, but the circumstances weren’t right until a different time.” 

“Hmm,” Jane said, nodding. “Like Joyce and Hopper. And Jonathan and Nancy.”

“Right,” Will said, eagerly nodding now that Jane seemed to get it. “And I didn’t know if you and Mike were, I don’t know. Heading towards that.”

“No,” she said, frowning at the thought. “I think we were the wrong person, wrong time.”

“Not really a thing,” Will said. “But okay.”

Jane watched as he relaxed, letting go of her hand, his shoulders falling back into place and his face resting into a neutral position. “Is that what you were worried about? Me and Mike?” 

“No, just… I was thinking about it, that’s all,” Will said. He picked at the skin on his index finger and shook his head. “I–no.”

“Because I would not date him again. Ever.”

“Okay,” Will said quietly. 

“I promise.” Jane looked at Will intently, hoping he caught the sincerity in her face. 

Will glanced up at her and smiled a little. “I believe you.”

“Good. Besides, Mike needs someone more like you,” Jane said. 

Will’s eyes widened and he flushed quickly, a bright red color spreading across his face and down his neck. “What?” he asked, laughing nervously. 

Interesting, she thought to herself, watching his reaction. “You know. Someone patient, who will put up with his drama and listen to him talk about his big ideas. Someone who likes the same things he likes. Like you do.” 

Will shrugged. “I guess. We just need to find the girl version of me.”

The tension was back in his shoulders and he was not meeting her eyes once again. 

Jane sighed. “You are one in a million,” she said. “He will have to just date you instead.” 

Will blinked at her. 

She smiled. Oh, she thought. I see. Gotcha.

“Mike’s not–” he started. 

“Who can know?” Jane shrugged. “He never told me. Did he tell you?” 

“That he was straight?” Will paused. “Not explicitly, but straight people don’t have to say that they’re straight. People just assume.”

“Did you ask?” 

“What? No.” Will frowned, his face scrunching up in a not very attractive manner. Jane decided to tell him not to make that face at a later time. “That would be weird.”

“I suppose.” Jane stood up, straightening out her dress, running her hands over the bright polka dots, before raising her eyebrows at him. “And yet, you never know unless you ask.”

“Wait,” Will said, a panicked look on his face, “I never said I– I mean, you seem to think I like him, and I never–”

“You did not have to say,” she said, smug (adj: having or showing an excessive amount of pride in one’s achievements). “It is very obvious.” 

“Jane,” he hissed at her, half standing off his bed as though he was going to chase her down as she walked towards the door. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Who would I tell?” she asked, turning the knob and opening the door. 

“Max?” Will said, his tone dripping with fear. 

Jane turned and looked at her brother, standing and staring at her with wide, frightened eyes, and she felt a twinge of guilt. “Will, I will not tell anybody,” she said quietly. “I promise.”

He nodded, but he was still tense. 

“You should, though,” she added. 

Will’s eyes narrowed at her. Wordless, but she knew what he was asking.

“You should tell Mike!” Jane beamed and ran out the door, shutting it behind her. 

Something hit the door right after she shut it, and Jane laughed to herself as she went to her room to think and scheme (noun: a large scale systematic plan or arrangement for putting an idea into effect). 

*** 

Maybe Max couldn’t see, but she wasn’t blind. There was an odd tension in the air during Eddie’s D&D session, and she couldn’t figure out why. 

Not being able to see sucked. Being trapped in a wheelchair sucked. It all sucked, and Max needed a distraction. 

She picked up the phone and listened to it ring. 

“Hello?” 

“Erica, hi,” Max said. “Is Lucas there?” 

“Maybe,” Erica said. Max could hear the doubt in her voice, clear as day. “You really want to talk to him?”

“Why, did something happen?” 

“No, he’s just stupid.”

Max laughed. “Yeah, I want to talk to him.”

“Fine.” Max heard the phone get set down, followed by Erica yelling Lucas’s name and a distant response. 

She waited, spinning the phone cord around her finger, over and over again. 

Muffled voices, her name spoken, a rush of footsteps over the line, and then–

“Hi,” Lucas said, sounding breathless. 

“Hey,” she said. 

“What’s up?” 

Max huffed out a little breath. “What, I need a reason to call you? You’re still one of my best friends, Stalker.” 

“Yeah, well, if I remember correctly, you told me you hated me and never wanted to talk to me again last time we talked, so…” 

“So obviously I changed my mind.” Which she had every right to do, thank you very much. “Hey, did you feel like things were weird on Tuesday?” 

“When on Tuesday?” 

“At Robin’s!” Max sighed. “Keep up.”

“Max, I don’t know what this is about,” Lucas said, his tone patient as she groused, gripping the phone tighter to her face. “You’re going to have to be clear.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” She took a deep breath. “I feel like everyone was being, uh. Tense.”

“Tense,” he said, sounding dubious. 

“Yes!” she insisted. “Like there was a weird tension in the room.”

“Well, if you felt that, I didn’t pick up on it.”

Max groaned and ran a hand over her face. “Are you serious? I need you to be my eyes and ears, Lucas! I can only be ears right now, and it’s killing me that I couldn’t watch everyone’s body language. Actually, put Erica back on the phone.”

“What–why?” 

“She was there and I’m sure she paid better attention than you,” Max snarked at him. 

“I’m not putting Erica back on.”

“Why not?” she demanded. 

“Because we never get to talk anymore, and I wanted to catch up,” Lucas said. 

That made Max pause and she thought for a moment. “I’ll tell her to hand the phone back to you when we’re done,” she said. 

“Fine.” 

There was an exchange of hands, Lucas calling for Erica just as she had done a few minutes before, and then–

“What’s up?” 

“Please tell me you noticed it was weird on Tuesday at Robin’s,” Max said. 

“Of course I noticed!” Erica exclaimed. “Yes, it was so weird. Like a strange tension in the air.”

“Right?” Max said. “What was that all about?” 

“It was so odd. Okay, so Mike was weird about Will and Jane coming, which you heard, and then wouldn’t look at Will, really, which made Will sad. He did his little shrunken turtle routine,” Erica recounted. “And then Eddie and Mike went into another room together for a while, which, if you ask me, made a lot of people feel a lot of things.”

“Like what?” Max asked, almost desperate for information as she tried to visualize the scene in her mind’s eye. 

“Steve seemed weird, which was interesting, and Will looked put out, like he had been trying to talk to Mike before he got whisked away, and Robin looked weirdly delighted, and I feel like things have been happening under our noses, Max!”

Max nodded before remembering Erica couldn’t see her. “I think so, too, and I’m tired of being left out. Who should we talk to about this?” 

“We can divide and conquer,” Erica suggested. “You talk to some and I talk to some. I can talk to Dustin. He probably knows more than my idiot brother.”

Max heard an indignant response from Lucas, who was apparently listening in the background, and she bit back a smile. “Okay, I can talk to Jane. I bet she knows what’s going on.” 

“Deal. And maybe I can get Lucas to talk to someone.”

“I don’t even know what I would be talking about,” Max heard him protest, clearly getting closer to the phone. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Neither do we, dipshit,” Erica said. “That’s why we’re investigating and talking to people.”

“But how do you know what to ask?” 

Max listened to the two of them bicker for what felt like way too long before she interrupted. “Hey, Erica, let me talk to your brother.”

“Okay, but you can do better than him,” Erica said before the rustling of the phone indicated it was transferring hands. 

“Hi,” Lucas said again. 

Max smiled and settled back against her chair. “Hi.” 

*** 

“Nancy called and left a message,” Karen Wheeler said as her son passed through the kitchen, backpack dangling from one of his hands. 

Mike slowed to a stop and stared at his mom. “What did she say?” 

“She wants you to call her back.” Deftly, Karen cut two carrots into small pieces, adding them to the pot of boiling water, and looked over at Mike again. “She didn’t say why.” She watched as Mike made several faces in a row–bemused, angry, sad, and afraid. He always wore his heart on his sleeve (or, more accurately, his face), and this seemed like no exception. “Do you know why she’s calling?” 

Mike shrugged. “No.”

Though that was clearly a lie, Karen let it go and chopped up a piece of celery. “Well, she says she will be at her apartment all evening, so you can call her whenever.” 

“Okay.” 

Karen glanced over when she didn’t hear his footsteps head upstairs, hovering the knife over her cutting board. “Honey?” 

Mike seemed frozen in place, his head bowed in thought. She took in his outfit, his Hellfire shirt under his old leather jacket, the one he dragged around everywhere, his black jeans sitting an inch too short, haphazardly cuffed on top of his old Converse, his dark nails scuffed and chipped where he gripped his old backpack. His hair was in his face, curling around his cheekbones. 

He looked young, vulnerable. Karen’s heart twinged as she took in the sight.

“Mike, what’s wrong?” She was transported to the day only a couple of years ago when she first learned of the Upside Down and all the monstrosities that had been plaguing her children while she was busy cooking and cleaning. “Is it… him?” 

Mike’s head snapped up and he made eye contact with her, shaking his head. “No. No, sorry.”

“Then what is it?” Karen put down the knife and turned around fully, leaning back against the cabinet. “Do you need help?” 

Mike bit his lip before releasing it and sighing deeply. “No. I don’t think so.” 

“Michael.”

He shook his head again, lowering his eyes. 

“Honey, remember–you don’t have to share, but I want you to remember I’m always here if you need to talk,” Karen said, pitching her voice lower, more sincere. “I know we haven’t been… the closest family…”

He snorted a quiet laugh and looked up at her for a moment. 

“But I love you and nothing will change that.”

“Nothing?” Mike asked quietly. 

“Nothing.” Her heart rate picked up, and she wondered if they were finally going to have the conversation that she had seen coming for years now, had anticipated since Will went missing all those years ago and Mike fell apart for real, allowing her to hug him like he hadn’t allowed for years, and… 

“I don’t know what to say,” he said, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I’m just overwhelmed.”

Karen pushed off the counter, rushing over to draw her tall, angry boy in her arms, wrapping both her arms up and over his shoulders, pulling him down to cradle his head in her hands like she used to when he was a toddler. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered. “I know.”

Mike cried for less than a minute, his tears falling silently onto her sleeve, before taking a deep breath and a step back. “Thanks, Mom,” he said. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. 

“I will be anyway,” he said, a small, cheeky smile on his face. “Don’t tell Dad I cried.”

Karen flinched and shook her head. “I won’t. I know how he gets.”

Mike just looked at her for a few moments, long and knowing, before nodding. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and, scooping up his forgotten backpack, ran up the stairs, footsteps clattering loudly. 

Karen’s soup smelled like it was burning and she turned back to the stove, stirring as though she was on autopilot, her head full of thoughts and worries but with nowhere to place them. 

***

Will smiled as he went down into the Wheeler’s basement, shutting the door tightly behind him and peeking his head into the room, lit by fairy lights that Mike got for sale from Melvald’s the year before. “Hey,” he said to the group in front of him. 

“Byers!” Dustin cheered, the others joining in and greeting him happily. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, setting his notebook on the end table next to the beat up couch and taking a seat on the vacant ottoman. “My mom was freaking out and I had to help her.”

“Freaking out about what?” Max asked. Next to her, Jane sat up straight, quizzical as she looked at him. 

“Just… anniversary stuff,” Will said to her. “Uh, November. It’s getting colder and darker, you know? She didn’t want me to come over here alone, and since Jane was at your house…” 

“Oh,” Jane said. “I am sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Will smiled warmly at his sister. “Anyway! What is this meeting about?” 

The Party was sitting around him, all close together thanks to the arrangement of furniture in the basement. Dustin and Lucas were whispering, and so were Jane and Max. Will looked at Mike, confused. 

Mike shrugged, eyebrows flying up his forehead. 

Will watched his face for a moment before asking, “Guys?” 

“This is an intervention!” Dustin declared in a booming, theatrical voice. 

“What?” Will asked. His eyes cut to Mike again. 

He couldn’t help it. 

“We have noticed that there has been weird tension between you two recently,” Dustin continued, pointing at Mike and Will. “And we’ve been talking and decided that there has been too much weird shit between all of us for whatever dumb fight you’re in to break up the party now.” 

Will sat frozen on his chair. Of all the conclusions for Dustin to reach… 

“I’m sorry, what?” Mike asked. 

Will couldn’t make himself look over at him this time. 

“You can’t deny it,” Lucas said, leaning forward with an earnest expression on his face. “It’s been weird. It was weird last Tuesday at D&D, and Eddie suddenly had to talk to you and practically dragged you out of there when you and Will were just standing next to each other silently, and it was weird at school the last three days, and we’ve all noticed, even Max, who can’t even see–”

“Rude,” Max interjected.

“And things have been weird with you guys before and, honestly, we’re not sure you ever fully made it back to, you know, Mike and Will, so we’re hoping if we sit down, like, as a group, you can… work it out.” Lucas shrugged. “So. Here’s your chance.”

Will wasn’t sure he was breathing. Well, he probably was, but he couldn’t feel it happening as he stared at one of his oldest friends. Lucas seemed so sure of this, and Will couldn’t… he couldn’t….

“Jane, can I talk to you?” Will blurted out, standing up quickly, his leg brushing Mike’s. He jerked away, feeling almost as though he had been burned, and grabbed Jane’s hand, dragging her into the small laundry room in the corner of the basement and shutting the door behind them. 

“What?” she asked. 

“What?” he hissed at her. “Are you serious? What is going on? Why–”

“I did not know how to proceed,” she whispered back. “I want to keep your secret, even from Max, so when Max asked me if I thought you and Mike were weird, I had to agree with her, and then you know Dustin and Lucas. They thought this would help.” 

“And you didn’t discourage it?” He felt crazy, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. 

“I attempted to,” she said primly. “They thought I was being jealous.”

“Of what?” Will took a shaky breath.

“I do not know,” she said. Jane picked idly at a piece of lint on Will’s shoulder, flicking it onto the ground. “I did not know how to stop it,” she repeated.

“What do I do?” 

She shrugged. “Talk to Mike, I suppose.”

“About what?” 

Her eyes lit up and Will groaned. “No.”

“You could use this perfect opportunity–”

“You sound like Robin,” Will grumbled. 

“Robin knows?” Jane asked, tilting her head, curious. 

“Yeah, maybe.”

A knock at the door made Will jump, knocking into Jane in the tight space. “Come on! We’re moving on!” Dustin called. 

Will opened the door and blinked. “What do you mean?” 

“Dude, you’re literally hiding in the laundry room to avoid talking to your best friend,” Dustin said, unimpressed, folding his arms across his chest in a scary imitation of Steve. “We can just hang out if you don’t want to confront this right now.”

“That’s not what we agreed to!” Lucas protested from the couch. 

Will took a hesitant step out, followed by Jane, making his way back to his seat, sinking into it and sending Mike a tentative smile. “We could play a game?” he offered. 

Lucas and Max booed, terrifyingly in sync, as always, but Mike sprang up and ran to the cupboard, rummaging around until he pulled out Clue, placing it carefully on the coffee table in between them. 

Everyone picked their characters and bickering broke out as the game started, like Will knew it would, because it always did, and he turned to smile at Mike, a better smile this time, and froze when he saw Mike was already looking at him. 

“You okay?” Mike whispered. His eyes were glowing in the fairy lights, twinkling just a little bit even as they looked right into his soul. 

“Yeah,” Will said, quiet. He fumbled for Mike’s hand, gripping it for a moment before letting go as quickly as he had grabbed it. “Thanks.”

“Sorry about them.” Mike smiled ruefully. “They’re assholes.”

“They love us.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Dustin accused Jane of being the murderer, and she threw a pillow at him with her mind, wiping the blood away from her philtrum and grinning. 

“Were they right?” Will asked after his next turn had come and gone. He was stuck in a hallway.

“About what?” Mike asked under his breath, studying his clue card intently. 

“Are we weird and tense?” 

Mike looked at him, one eyebrow raised, which was really unfair, if you asked Will. It made him look… older, more mature, and sardonic in a weirdly sexy way that made Will want to sit on his lap a little and also maybe die. “I don’t think so,” he said, although his tone indicated he was lying. Mike wasn’t a very good liar, not like Will had become. “Do you?” 

Lucas shrieked as his character got pulled into the kitchen, diverting him from his original path.

“No, we’re good. Right?” Will asked. 

“Right.”

And there it was, Will thought, taking in the set of Mike’s jaw, clenching on nothing but his own teeth. The tension. 

Motherfucker. 

*** 

“Mike called me back,” Nancy said, settling into her comfortable couch next to Jonathan as he fiddled with a camera. She handed him an extra tea, which he carefully set to the side before looking over at her. “Two days late.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes and smirked. “Classic Mike.”

“Classic Mike.” She took a sip of her drink. 

“What did he say?” Jonathan asked. 

Nancy thought back through their conversation and frowned. “It was weird. Very rambling and off-topic. It sounds like he and Eddie have started to hang out, which… I don’t know how I feel about that. But Mike needs someone, a guy, who is older than him to look up to, I guess. God knows my dad isn’t that person, and Mike can’t stand Hopper.”

“Did he say anything about Will?” 

Nancy smirked. “No. But in a way that felt very obvious. Like he intentionally left Will out of the conversation.”

Jonathan nodded, and the two of them fell silent, drinking their tea as he picked up his camera and tools again. 

“Do you think they’re falling apart without us?” Nancy asked after several minutes. 

“Yes,” Jonathan said without thinking about it. 

And, well, Nancy supposed that was the correct answer, so she’d take it. 

*** 

“I’ve come to a conclusion,” Dustin announced. 

Robin swung her legs from the front desk at the bookshop. “What’s that, Dusty Bun?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he said cheerfully, flipping her off. “I think Steve is in love with Eddie.”

Robin raised her eyebrows. “You think Steve–my Steve–is in love with Eddie Munson?” 

“It makes sense,” Dustin insisted. “You just watch next time the two of you talk and he brings up Eddie, because believe me, he will. He thinks Eddie hung the stars in the fucking night sky, I think. It’s compulsive. He can’t help it. Because he’s in love.”

“Steve, who begged me to take his shift today because he had to, quote, pamper himself before his big date?” Robin asked, clearly dubious. 

“Yes,” Dustin said. “Yes. That Steve.”

“Dipshit,” she said fondly. “Steve is a chick magnet.”

“Yeah, but when has that ever worked out for him?” 

She shrugged. “He’s unlucky in love.”

“He’s gay and doesn’t know it.” 

Robin stared at him blankly. 

Dustin turned and jumped up so he was sitting next to her, pressing his shoulder into hers, a comfortable weight where they touched. “Robin,” he said calmly, which he thought was remarkable, honestly, considering he was nowhere near calm and was actually pretty fucking excited to have figured this out finally, “your boy Steve? Wants to live inside Eddie’s skin.” He was proud of himself for working Steve's own weird phrase into this conversation.

“Gross,” Robin said, shoving Dustin off of her. 

He scooted over to leave two inches of room in between them. “You know what he thought? He thought Mike and Eddie had something between them and he was jealous, Robin. Jealous!”

“He thought what?” she asked, mouth falling open. “Mike and Eddie?” 

“I talked him down,” Dustin said, waving her off. “But he was jealous. He walked in on them hugging pretty intensely and you should have heard him talking about it, like Eddie was being stolen away from him. The son of a bitch is jealous and can’t admit it to himself.”

Robin blinked several times, trying to process. 

“So. Now one of us has to tell him.” Dustin smiled, satisfied with his conclusion and presentation. “And it should be you, since you’re gay.”

Robin scoffed and jumped down, leaning over to grab a stack of returned books, ready to be reshelved. “No way, Henderson,” she said. “I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole.”

“You want me to do it?” Dustin yelled after her. “I’m not subtle or kind!”

He watched as she flipped him off over her shoulder. 

“Fine, I won’t let you in on our scheme to get Mike and Will together,” he called as a sort of Hail Mary, which he knew was a football term but didn’t really understand the rest of it. 

(Not because he couldn’t understand, of course. Just because he didn’t want to let it take up any brain space.) 

Robin paused and turned around. 

“Oh ho, that caught your attention, huh?” Dustin chortled. He rubbed his hands together before realizing that probably made him look like an evil cartoon villain. 

Robin stalked back over to him, eyebrows furrowed, looking, oddly, also like a cartoon villain. “Listen here, you little shit,” she said. “You better not be ruining my own scheme to get those two idiots together.”

Dustin raised his eyebrows. “Oh?” 

“Yeah,” she said, pointing her finger in his face and wagging it back and forth. “I am working on it with Eddie and we are making headway, so you need to chill. Whatever you and your idiot friends are planning, I guarantee the two older, actually queer people in your lives are going to do a better job at it.”

Dustin smirked and pushed her hand aside. “We’ve known them longer,” he said in a sing-song voice that he knew drove Robin crazy. “We have the advantage.”

“Don’t fuck this up for me, Henderson,” she warned, taking a step back. 

“You’re on, Buckley,” he said, leaning forward and beaming at her. “We will make it happen, I guarantee it.”

Robin frowned and turned around again, stomping over to her pile of books. 

Dustin stretched, pleased with himself. After all, if everyone was working on this from different angles… 

No way they mess this up too badly. 

*** 

“Is Will your boyfriend?” 

Mike choked on his coffee, letting a little spill over the rim of his coffee cup and onto his hand and shirt sleeve. It soaked through instantly, cooling and leaving a gross brown spot. “What?” he asked, turning to look at his little sister incredulously. 

Holly shrugged. “Erica called him your little boyfriend last time I saw her.”

“Why did you talk to Erica?” Maybe, Mike thought, if he changed the subject, Holly would forget all about her original question. 

“She came over to make cookies with me,” she said, as though that was the obvious reason, which, okay, maybe Erica was trying to be involved in Holly’s life, Mike didn’t know, but that was unacceptable if Erica was going to use that time to make Mike’s life harder. 

“What did you make?” Mike asked, aware he had been quiet for too long. 

“Chocolate chip with the chunks of chocolate.” Holly put her hands on her hips and tilted her head, looking so much like Nancy that it sent a chill down Mike’s spine. “So, are you two dating?” 

“Holly,” Mike groaned, running a hand over his face. He took a sip of his coffee and frowned at her. “No. We’re best friends.” 

“Why are you so red right now?” 

Mike just took another sip of his coffee and avoided eye contact. 

“I know that Will likes boys,” Holly said. 

Mike glanced around the house instinctively and shook his head, whispering, “Hols, you can’t just say that, not here. You have to… you have to know who’s around before you say that kind of thing.”

“Dad’s not home,” Holly said, and Mike’s heart dropped, because, sure, he hated Ted Wheeler, but he didn’t want Holly to know that’s what he meant, not really–she deserved to still believe in her father, if she wanted to. “And Will told me when I asked him why he never had a girlfriend.”

Mike groaned. “Holly!”

“What?” she asked. 

Mike couldn’t tell if she was laughing at him or not, but he decided he was probably just being paranoid. 

“I like Will,” she said, beaming at him for a moment before reaching into the fridge and grabbing an apple juice. “I think if you’re not dating him, you should be.”

He was very quiet for a minute, watching as Holly opened her juice and took a long drink, a self-satisfied smirk on her face when she lowered it from her mouth. “Holly,” he finally said, slightly proud of how even and measured he sounded, not a waver in his voice, “why are you saying this?” 

“You haven’t dated anyone since El. Jane,” Holly said, still unused to the change. “Since Jane. And you and Will touch a lot.”

“Okay, that’s because we’re friends,” Mike protested. 

“A lot,” Holly emphasized. “It’s like you can’t help it.”

His face felt warm. He put his coffee down. 

“And I think he’s in love with you,” she added. 

Mike sighed, long-suffering. “Why do you think that?” 

Holly took a drink again, and yeah, her eyes were definitely sparkling with mischief as she made him wait for her to finish. With a smirk, she said, “I’ve been watching soap operas with Mom sometimes, and they talk about how you know someone is in love with you, and Mike… Will looks at you like you placed the moon in the sky.”

Mike gaped at his little sister, so tall and self-assured lately, her words running through his mind on a loop (Will looks at you like you placed the moon in the sky) three times over before shaking his head. “Nobody talks like that,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “That’s not real.”

“You don’t know unless you try!” she said, beaming. 

“Did Erica put you up to this?” he asked, squinting at her, trying to see through her. 

“Maybe,” she said, shameless. “So?” 

“Maybe don’t listen to her,” he advised. “Erica is a genius but she’s also a loose cannon and you never know what might happen when you’re with her.”

“Aw, I’m telling her you think she’s a genius.” Holly drained her juice and gave Mike a little wave before skipping up to her room. 

Mike watched her go helplessly. 

And yet… 

(You don’t know unless you try.) 

He scoffed. Yeah, right. Like he was going to tell his best friend he was basically in love with him and ruin everything they’ve slowly, painstakingly rebuilt over the last couple of years. 

Yeah, right. 

He took another sip of his coffee. 

*** 

“Do you feel like Mike and Will are in love?” 

Steve watched with a smug grin on his face as Robin’s face lit up. “What?” she asked, reaching over and gripping his arm. “You caught on?” 

“What?” he asked, his confidence slipping slightly. “Caught on? What do you mean?” 

“I have been trying to set them up for months, Steve. Months! It’s a whole conspiracy, and I’ve been keeping you out of it out of respect for Mike, since I don’t think he even knows his own sexuality, but trust me, that boy is not straight, I would know, and I’ve been coaching Will and trying to help him get Mike–”

“I’m sorry, you’re coaching Will?” he asked, incredulous. “You?” 

“Yeah,” Robin said, clearly offended as she let go of him. “Why?” 

“I should have been tagged in months ago!” Steve said, throwing his hands in the air and sitting on Robin’s bed. “Who knows how to flirt better out of the two of us?” 

“Who has a girlfriend out of the two of us?” she shot back at him, flopping down on the bed on her back, looking up at him, a small smile on her face. 

“Rude,” Steve muttered. “I have a second date this week.”

He watched as Robin frowned, the light leaving her face in one smooth motion. “You do?” 

“Yeah. Cassandra. She’s very nice.”

She peered up at him with half-open eyes, searching for something in his face. 

Steve sighed. “What.” 

“You know I hate it when you ask a question without a question mark,” Robin complained, sitting up and bumping her shoulder into his. 

“What’s up, Robin?” he asked, purposefully placing too much pep into the question with a large, unhinged grin on his face. 

“What made you think Will and Mike are into each other?” 

He blinked at the subject change before taking it in stride. “Besides the way they always hang out alone, and can’t sit next to each other without touching, or bring each other up in every conversation, or the way they spend the night at each others’ houses all the time, or how their eyes always find each other in every room, or, oh, what about how Mike seems like he’s vibrating with rage anytime Will talks to someone else, or–”

Robin was laughing, pushing against his arm. “Stop. I get it.”

“Besides,” Steve continued, swatting her hand away, “Eddie says that I need to see the world as a little bit more gay, so I’ve been trying to.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. 

Steve’s hands fell back into his lap, useless now that they weren’t play-fighting. 

“How often do you and Eddie hang out?” 

“Jealous?” he asked. He smirked. 

Robin rolled her eyes and lay back down. “No, you absolute nincompoop. Just asking.”

“I don’t know, probably two or three times a week.” Steve shrugged before laying next to her, staring up at the ceiling. There were plastic glow-in-the-dark stars sprinkled throughout, giving the ceiling a childlike appearance. Steve liked it a lot. “He’s fun to hang out with.”

Robin turned to look at him. “Yeah?” 

“Not more fun than you,” he said quickly. “Just… it’s nice. I don’t have a lot of guy friends I can be so… chill with.”

“Chill with?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?” he grumbled. “Yes, chill with. Like, most guys would be upset if we tried to hug or hold hands, but Eddie is happy to do it, and he never, like… freaks out when I initiate physical contact. It’s nice. I think more guys should hug. There’d be fewer wars.” 

The silence coming from the left felt incredibly pointed, and Steve was scared to look, but… 

He turned his head and met Robin’s gaze, open and searching as she studied his face. 

“What?” 

“You know I agree with everything you just said,” Robin said, carefully, which was weird, because Robin never said anything carefully, “and I definitely think that men should be more casual and less freaked out about seeming gay when they’re hanging out with friends.”

Steve nodded. 

“But, Steve… remember what you said about how you know Will and Mike like each other?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “So?” 

“So, you just…” She groaned and rolled her head back to center, staring up. “You just… you and Eddie have been getting pretty close.”

Steve stared at her for a moment, his words from earlier running through his head, and he felt an odd sort of lump in his throat as he tried to swallow. “Oh?” 

“Lots of casual touching kind of close,” she added. “Feeling jealous kind of close.”

Steve sat up, whirling around to stare down at her. “What do you mean, feeling jealous?” 

“Dustin told me,” she said, wincing. “About the Mike and Eddie hug.”

“That’s… I wasn’t jealous,” he hissed at her. “I was just… concerned!”

Robin looked up at him, her face very carefully neutral. Intentional. 

Steve shoved her hip lightly and stood up, trying with all his might to ignore the fluttering in his chest that started a minute and a half ago and felt like it was trying to choke him. “I should go.”

“Don’t,” she said, sitting and catching his wrist, keeping him in place. “I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”

He stared down at her, his best friend, his stupid, stupid, stupid best friend, and sighed. “Okay. Can we talk about Mike and Will again?” 

She brightened again and patted the spot he just vacated. “Please. I think we need to really do a final push, you know, to get them to admit their feelings to one another.”

Steve sat gingerly, nodding as she spoke about her plan, smiling in all the right places. 

Inside, he had the sinking feeling that maybe Robin was right about everything, but he could never admit that to her. Right? Not only was that crazy (he liked girls!), but she would be smug forever. 

He refocused on what she was saying and let his thoughts fall to the background. 

*** 

“Have you been getting a lot of weird questions from our friends?” Mike asked Will as they sat side by side at the kitchen table. He could hear Holly’s colored pencils scratching from the next room, Ted’s television program quietly playing. 

Will looked up from his art project, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “What kind of weird questions?” 

Mike tapped his pencil on his math textbook, nervous energy flowing out of him, barely keeping himself contained by his desire to stay off his father’s radar. “Like… invasive questions.”

“Always,” Will said, smiling gently. “It’s how they are.”

“No, but like… more than normal,” he said, making eye contact with Will and mentally begging him to get it so he didn’t have to say it.

Will was quiet for a moment before putting down his pencil with a sigh, turning to face Mike fully. “About you and me?” 

Mike nodded, mirroring Will’s body language, placing his hands on his thighs, rubbing them back and forth gently. They were clammy and gross, he noticed, feeling slightly disconnected from his own body. “Yeah. It’s like every conversation I have, someone is bringing you up to me and asking…” He flushed and looked towards the living room, lowering his voice. “I just don’t know where this started. And what was that bullshit on Saturday with our friend group thinking we’re tense lately?” 

Will smiled a little and shrugged. “I guess we were weird at D&D,” he said, calm. Always fucking calm. 

Mike did not feel calm. He felt a little like he was going to explode. A Mike volcano. “I didn’t think so,” he said stubbornly. 

“Regardless,” Will whispered. “Yeah. They’ve been talking about you to me, too.”

“Why?” Mike asked. 

The silence that followed was very uncomfortable. 

Mike’s stomach was turning. He gripped the fabric of his jeans in his fists, alternating hands as he squeezed. 

“Mike, I… I wonder if you know,” Will said, still whispering, his eyes unfocused as he looked over Mike’s shoulder. 

“I don’t!” Mike protested. 

“Has Robin talked to you?” 

He frowned. “Robin and I don’t really talk,” Mike pointed out. “I’ve seen you talk to her a lot, but… no, she hasn’t. Why?” 

Will shrugged. 

“I just don’t understand how this happened all of a sudden. I mean, even…” Mike tilted his head towards the living room. “Is in on it.”

Will’s eyes flew wide open. “Ted?!” he hissed. 

“What?” Mike pulled back a few inches. “No. Holly.”

“What?” he heard Holly ask from the next room. 

“Nothing!” he called back hurriedly, before biting his lip and turning to Will. “My room?” 

Will nodded and the two of them headed upstairs, books and papers haphazardly tucked under their arms. 

Mike kicked his door closed and sat at the desk, leaving Will to sit on the–embarrassingly, unmade and rumpled–bed. “Sorry,” he said, breathing a little too heavy, considering they only had to walk up fourteen steps. “I just didn’t want–”

“I know,” Will said, smiling easily. It didn’t reach his eyes. 

“So.”

“So.”

Mike fidgeted with a half-finished Lego set, a gift from Holly for his birthday that he was finally getting around to building in his spare time. “I feel like things have been weird,” he admitted. 

Will raised his eyebrows and sat on his hands. He looked small like that, like the kid he was back when all of this started. 

Mike blinked and restarted. “Sorry. I mean, maybe things have been tense. And that’s probably my fault. I just… all our friends have been talking about it with me, and it’s been…”

“Weird,” Will supplied. “Yeah.”

“You feel it, too?” Mike asked eagerly. “It’s not just me?” 

Will worried his bottom lip between his teeth before sucking in a deep breath, almost like he had forgotten to breathe for a minute, and Mike watched, enraptured, as a flush spread across his face. “Honestly, Mike, I… they talk about you to me just about as much as they have for a few years now, so it feels normal at this point.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I just…” Will looked out the window, avoiding Mike’s gaze, which was annoying, since Mike would do anything to have Will looking at him at all times. “I don’t know.”

“Well, here’s what I’ve noticed,” Mike said, realizing he would have to take charge of the conversation if they were to get anywhere. God, he was going to throw up. “Our friends think things have been tense, and after thinking about it, I agree with them.”

Will glanced at him before his eyes slid away again. 

“And I think it’s probably my fault, because you haven’t changed.”

“Have you changed?” Will asked, surprised. 

Mike froze, the next words that he meant to say during his impromptu speech slipping away. “I… yes?” 

Will shifted a little on the bed. “Oh.”

“Not that much, or… maybe too much,” Mike said, frowning at the confused look on Will’s face. “I mean, I still am me, you know, but… not the me I thought I was. You know?” 

Will shook his head. 

Mike groaned and covered his face with his hands, rubbing hard at the skin on his cheeks. “I’m not sure what I’m trying to say.”

“What do you want to say?” Will asked, his voice soft. 

Mike slowly lowered his hands, staring down at his hands, focusing on the chipped black polish rather than looking up at Will's face. “I don’t know that I should say what I want to say,” he said before immediately cursing his woeful lack of impulse control. “I mean… I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“You can tell me anything,” Will said before rolling his eyes. “You idiot.”

“Don’t call me an idiot while I’m trying to be honest,” Mike snapped. His eyes lifted despite his best efforts, staring at Will's face. At least he was able to stay focused on Will's eyes, rather than-

“You love it.” Will smiled a little. 

Will's mouth.

He did love it, unfortunately, but he chose not to respond. 

“What do you want to say?” Will asked again, pressing a little, which was unusual for him. His pupils were larger than normal, blown and dark.

Mike studied his face for a moment. “I’ve been talking to Eddie,” he blurted out. “About, uh. About being gay. I mean, about Eddie being gay!” 

“Okay…” Will frowned, hurt flashing across his face. “Why not me?” 

“I, uh…” Mike floundered a little, searching for the right words, “I couldn’t, uh, well, see, that’s a funny story, but…” He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. 

Will studied him for a moment. “I think this is the tension our friends have been talking about,” he said softly, gently. Too gentle for Mike, probably. Will was too good for Mike. 

Mike felt frozen, unsure of what to say next. 

“Can I tell you what I’ve been talking to Robin about?” Will asked, moving over slightly on the bed and motioning for Mike to join him, and, oh, his posture and facial expression have changed, and Mike realized–

Oh, god, Will knew. 

He knew, and he was being so gentle, and Mike was going to be honest if Will asked directly, and he was about to ruin everything, but he could never turn Will down, so he got up and sat on the bed next to his beautiful best friend, folding his hands in his lap and waiting for Will to continue. 

“I’ve had a crush for a while on someone,” Will said. 

Mike looked over at Will, who was looking resolutely at the wall, avoiding Mike’s gaze. 

“It’s been… rough,” Will added, laughing a little. “I mean, as maybe Eddie has told you, being an out gay teenager in Hawkins is kind of awful, but there’s a special kind of pain that comes with being in lo–having a crush on a straight friend. I’ve been talking about it with Robin, because before Vickie, she was into a girl named Tammy who is, as far as Robin is aware, straight and in love with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

“Who isn’t?” Mike asked, his mind reeling as he considered his next words. “I’m sorry whoever you liked couldn’t get his head out of his ass and ask you out. You deserve better.”

Will shook with silent laughter. “It’s mostly fine. I didn’t expect anything from him.”

Who? Mike wanted to ask more than anything. He kept his mouth closed. 

“But Robin has been watching our interactions, and she’s starting to think that, well, maybe… maybe he likes me, too.” Will shifted a little, discomfort written across his face as he glanced at Mike for half a second, his eyes darting somewhere south of Mike’s eyes before gluing themselves to the wall again. “And she’s encouraging me to ask him out, or to kiss him, or tell him how I feel, and… it’s so fucking scary, Mike.”

Mike’s eyes widened at the curse word, so rare from Will Byers, even as his mind raced and his face flushed, jealousy filling his body like a too-warm blanket, pulsing through his veins in place of his blood, hot and angry and, god, if he didn’t know he was in love with his best friend before, this was maybe the most clear indicator yet. “I bet,” he said, voice wavering as Will waited patiently for a response. “It sounds terrifying.” 

“It is.” Will lifted a hand, hesitating, before laying it on Mike’s forearm. His hand was shaking a little bit. “It’s terrifying. But Robin insists it’s worth it.”

Mike’s eyes were glued to Will’s hand, so gentle on his arm. 

“Mike.”

He stared down at Will’s fingers, long and covered with graphite, losing their tan from the late summer a couple of months ago, and his brain was filled with bees, the buzzing loud in his ears. 

“Please say something.”

“You… me?” Mike choked out, looking up to meet Will’s eyes. 

“Yeah,” Will breathed, his eyes wide and scared, pupils somehow larger than they were a few minutes ago. Their faces were inches from one another. 

“Oh,” Mike said, feeling stupid as he tried to think of something else to say. “Why?” His eyes dropped for a moment, lingering on Will’s mouth before he dragged them back up to his eyes. 

Will huffed out a breath and pulled away, looking back to the wall. “Mike…”

“I just… you could do so much better.” 

“No, I couldn’t,” he said. Mike watched as Will reached up to wipe an errant tear from his eye. “You’re Mike.” 

Mike was dumbfounded and silent. He felt like his brain was broken. 

“And if I ruined things, I’m sorry. Robin said I should go for it, and I never thought I would actually say anything, but you were sending me signals, I thought, so–”

Mike pushed forward, sliding one hand onto Will’s thigh, gripping for stability, pushing the other hand onto Will’s neck and into his soft baby hairs at the base of his skull, placing a firm closed-mouth kiss on Will’s mouth, holding for a breath before drawing back and opening his eyes, meeting Will’s with an intense stare. “Will.”

Will’s mouth was hanging open a little, one hand halfway raised as if it was trying to reach for Mike in return. “Y-yeah?” 

“I was sending you signals,” Mike said, a smile stretching across his face, and then they were kissing, a little unsteady and not centered very well, and both of their smiles kept getting in the way, but Mike decided he couldn’t care less, because his hands were on Will’s face and Will’s legs were tangled in his, and their mouths were pressing together again and again, and it felt like Mike had died and gone to heaven, which–Mike knew that was dramatic, but he didn’t care, not when this was the best kiss of his entire short life, because it was Will, the best person on the goddamn planet. 

Will pulled back a little and Mike noticed that his hands were pressed against his chest, scrunched in the fabric of Mike’s hoodie. “What… you like me?” he asked. 

“Mhm,” Mike hummed, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of Will’s mouth. “I like you so much.”

“Me?” 

“You’re going to have to believe me,” Mike whispered. Another kiss. 

Will’s laugh was a little wet, sniffly. “Forgive me if I think this is too good to be true.”

Mike’s smile stretched to a stupid degree and he worried he looked a little bit like an idiot. “Well, believe it, baby.”

Will wrinkled his nose even as he laughed. “Baby?” 

“Baby. Sweetheart.” Mike pressed a gentle kiss to Will’s forehead, thrilling in the realization that he could just do that now. “My paladin.”

Will pushed Mike’s chest, forcing an extra six inches between the two of them. “Gross. Not that one.”

“We’ll work up to it,” Mike said confidently. 

“Definitely not,” Will said. 

“Hey,” Mike said, dropping his voice so it sounded more serious, realizing he needed to share something else. “I was talking with Eddie about being gay, but… that was because of you. I feel like you need to know that.”

“What do you mean?” Will reached over and took one of Mike’s hands, threading his fingers through. He lifted their conjoined hands and gave Mike’s hand a gentle kiss.

Mike shivered at the feeling. “Eddie figured me out and he told me that… that it was okay to be honest with myself. To let myself be in love.” He met Will’s gaze. “With you.”

Will inhaled sharply and, without answering, pressed into Mike, one hand coming to rest on Mike’s jaw as he kissed him, a little sharp and intense, but that was okay. Mike liked it. 

Mike thought he would probably like every type of kiss Will gave him. 

He sank into it, opening his mouth just a little, letting the warm, wet feeling wash over him. Mike took his free hand and snaked it around Will’s back, pulling just a little until they were so close  Mike could feel Will’s heartbeat in his own chest. 

Will tugged at his hair very lightly. 

Mike moaned and pushed his tongue into Will’s mouth, and Will allowed it, and Mike thrilled in the feeling of more, more, more, pushing forward until Will was trapped between Mike’s body and his headboard, their hearts beating in time as Mike raised himself onto his knees, climbing up and onto Will’s lap without breaking their kiss. 

They sat like that for a long time, pressing closer to one another, kisses alternating between lingering and intense, with exploring hands and involuntary noises escaping their lips, before Will slowly pulled back. 

Mike tried to follow him and Will turned his head. 

“Mike,” he said with a slight smile. 

“Sorry,” Mike said, gasping a little. “I love you.”

Will’s eyes shined. “I love you.”

“God.” Mike leaned his forehead against Will’s. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, baby,” Will said with a smirk, his tone just on the edge of mocking.

Mike just smiled, his eyes closed, content.

“Are we…?” 

Mike pulled back slightly at Will’s hesitation. “Are we what?” he asked, searching Will’s expression for a clue. 

“Dating?” Will’s voice wavered as he asked, even as he held Mike’s gaze. 

Mike smiled, a wide, joyful thing that burst out from the center of his chest, and he wrapped his arms around Will’s shoulders, dragging him into a tight hug. “Yes, if you want,” he said, too excited to remember to be embarrassed or protect himself. “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Are you sure?” Will whispered, hugging him around his middle. 

“Yes!” Mike insisted. “Yes. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and take you on dates. Please let me do that.” 

“What about… you’re not out.”

Mike paused and pulled back. “Oh. Right.”

“And that’s fine,” Will said quickly. “I would never want to force anything.”

“Right.” Mike sat heavily on the bed a foot away, still holding Will’s hand. “I get that.” 

“I just want to know the rules, but Mike?” Will bit his lip. “I’ll take whatever you can give me.”

“You deserve everything,” Mike said quietly. “More than I can give you right now. My dad…” 

The words hung heavy in the air. Mike knew that Will knew what he was talking about. 

“So we don’t tell anyone for a while,” Will said, determination flashing across his face. “It’s just for us right now.”

Mike smiled a little. “Yeah? You’re cool with that?” 

“I meant it when I said it,” Will said. “Whatever you can give me.”

Mike hesitated, feeling guilty, before he leaned forward and kissed Will gently. “I will give you whatever I can,” he promised. 

“I know.” Will smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Mike whispered. “I wish you knew how much.” 

***

“So, we’re in agreement?” Eddie asked, looking at Robin and Steve. “We get the two of them together and get them to confront their feelings for one another?” 

“We’ll Murray them!” Robin said enthusiastically. 

“What?” Steve asked. “What does Murray have to do with this?” 

“He got Nancy and Jonathan and Hop and Joyce together,” Robin said. “Come on, I’ve told you this.”

Steve made a face, most likely at the reminder of the time his ex-girlfriend left him at the insistence of one Murray Bauman. “Oh. Right.”

Eddie took a moment to think about how good Robin was at saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. “Anyway. Yes. We’ll Murray them. It’ll be fucking awesome and they’ll be happy forever.”

“Do you guys think this is kind of creepy?” Steve asked. 

“No,” Eddie and Robin chorused before laughing. 

Steve watched the two of them, a mixture of fondness and exasperation on his face. “So, how do we do it?” 

“We sit them down,” Robin said, like she was explaining something to a child, “and we tell them they have to admit their feelings for each other.”

“God, Robin,” Steve complained, “that sounds so blunt. And how do we know that’ll even work?” 

Eddie watched, an apprehensive feeling climbing in his chest, as Robin’s smile grew, turning almost evil as she eyed Steve. “We could practice.”

“Practice how?” Steve sounded very dubious, which Eddie thought was valid, considering there was no one to practi–

“Wait, no,” Eddie protested, his brain catching up. “Robin.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. 

“No, I want to hear what she has to say,” Steve said. 

“No, you don’t,” Eddie said quickly. “Nobody wants that.”

“I think it would be beneficial,” Robin said. 

“Why don’t you want her to–”

“I just don’t!” Eddie yelled, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Come on, it’s just Robin,” Steve said. He put his hands on his hips. 

Eddie glanced down at his hands, heat flooding his face. He looked between Steve and Robin, ganging up on him like they always do, and groaned. 

“Maybe,” Robin said gingerly, her smile softened slightly, “this could be good.”

“What?” Steve asked. “Why am I always the last one to understand what’s going on?” 

“Because you have brain damage, dingus,” Robin said, reaching over to ruffle Steve’s perfect hair, which prompted Steve to flip her off as he fixed his hair, running his stupid, perfect hands through it a few times and letting a few strands hang forward–

Eddie sighed. He nodded at her.

Robin grinned. “See, I think a great way to practice is for me to talk to the two of you.”

“Robin…” He sighed again. Although, Eddie had to admit to himself, he doubted Robin would do this if she wasn’t sure Steve liked him back, which was a nice realization to have. If anyone knew who Steve liked, it was Robin, so the chances that this worked out for him felt a little higher than normal. 

Very little, but a little higher regardless. 

“The two of us?” Steve asked. 

Robin pointed at him. “Exactly! The two of you! You two could be happy if you would just talk to one another about your feelings.” 

Eddie sighed a third time, avoiding Steve’s face. 

“Sexual. And romantic,” she added as an afterthought. “To be clear.”

Steve coughed. “Huh?” 

Oh god. Robin was wrong, and Eddie was going to have to go crawl into the gate he barely made it out of, fling himself into the Upside Down for the rest of his life, just to escape this painful situation. 

“Steve.” Robin’s voice was soft. “Come on.”

“I… I don’t know what…” 

“It’s okay,” Eddie said, sparing a glance in Steve’s direction. “She’s just joking around.”

Eddie watched as Steve looked up and down his body, curiosity radiating from him as he slowly took in Eddie’s expression and body language. “Is she?” he asked carefully. 

“No,” Robin said. “Okay, I’m going to…” She motioned towards the bedroom door and stepped out before anybody could say anything else. 

Steve stared at Eddie, eyes wide. 

Eddie twisted one of his rings on his finger nervously. “Uh, you know we don’t have to actually talk about it? We can just… forget it.”

Steve was quiet for almost fifteen seconds. 

Eddie counted the audible ticks of the clock across the room. 

“Do we have to forget it?” 

His eyes snapped to Steve’s. 

Steve, who looked like he might throw up, but also so determined. Steve, whose gaze was fixed on Eddie’s hands, still fiddling with his ring. 

Steve, who Eddie had been dreaming of for months now. 

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said. 

Steve nodded. “Okay.” 

And then they were kissing, and Eddie put his hands in Steve Harrington’s beautiful, stupid hair, and Steve was holding him by the lapels of his leather jacket, and one of them gasped, and Eddie decided, somewhere in the haze of the next several minutes, that Robin Buckley was probably a genius. 

Not that he would ever tell her, of course. 

*** 

Jonathan entered the bedroom, dropping his flannel overshirt onto the chair next to the bed. 

Nancy sent him a withering look, but he didn’t care very much. He perched on the end of the bed and smiled at her. 

“What?” she asked after a moment, flicking through her book to the next page. 

“They did it,” he said. 

Nancy raised her eyebrows. 

“Mike and Will,” he added. 

Her eyes widened and she put the book down. “They did it?” 

He smiled and nodded. “Will just told me. They haven’t told anyone else yet, though.”

“Oh my god!” Nancy beamed at him, and this was one of his favorite expressions on her, the moments where she didn’t keep herself so tightly controlled and just let herself be happy. “They did it!”

“I’m proud of them,” Jonathan said, a warm feeling in his chest. 

Nancy grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Me, too.” 

They smiled at each other. 

“Now pick up your shirt.”

Jonathan laughed and stood. “Yes, ma’am.” 

*** 

Robin stood over her two young padawans, tapping her finger against her chin as though she was in deep thought. “Will and Mike,” she said. 

They looked at each other nervously, sitting side by side on the Byers’ old couch. 

“Yes?” Mike asked. The bite that lived behind his words normally was gone. 

Robin tilted her head, surprised. Her brain was whirring as she looked at the way they were sitting. There was still tension, yes, but it was different, somehow. 

Nevertheless, she pushed forward. “I bet you’re wondering why I’ve called you here,” she said dramatically. 

Will laughed a little, saying, “Robin, you really don’t need to–”

“I need to be the Murray of the situation,” she interrupted. “Please. I have a speech.”

“She won’t stop practicing it when we’re trying to hang out,” Eddie said from behind her. 

Robin turned and held up her middle finger. “Shut up, Munson.”

“Make me, Buckley.” He flipped her off in return, a bright smile on his face. 

Robin’s heart felt so full as she glanced at Steve, standing next to Eddie’s chair. She was good at this, she reminded herself. This would be no different. She turned back around and clasped her hands in front of her. “I think it’s time to be honest with ourselves,” she started. 

“Seriously, Robin, I appreciate this, but–”

“Will,” she whined. “Let me get this out.”

He fell silent. 

Mike nudged him with his shoulder, just a light brush. 

Will smiled at him before looking back up at her. 

Robin narrowed her eyes at them. “I think it’s time to be honest with ourselves,” she repeated. “You two have been dancing around each other for years now, since long before I ever met you. I’ve heard stories about the two of you and how much you’ve always cared for one another. The Upside Down, the Mind Flayer, and Vecna himself couldn’t tear you apart. California tried, but it wasn’t successful. You two find a way back to each other, again and again.”

Mike reached over and, casual as anything, took Will’s hand without looking over at him. 

Robin gaped at the gesture for a moment before continuing, despite the urge to stop and demand to know what was happening. “You have talked to people, separately, about the feelings you have for one another. Romantic feelings. And I think it’s time this is all out in the open. You need to talk to each other. Remind each other what the other person means to you. And maybe kiss about it a little.”

Will’s mouth was open, even as he still grasped Mike’s hand in his. “Robin!” 

“No, Will. I’m tired of you talking about how much you love Mike when he clearly loves you, too.” Robin put her hands on her hips. “Now, we’re going to leave, and you’re going to talk, and I don’t want to hear from you until you kiss about it.” 

“Weird phrase,” Steve said from behind her. 

He's right, she thought begrudgingly. “It wasn’t in my planned speech, but it fits, I think,” she said. 

Mike and Will looked at each other. 

Robin waited. “Well?” 

Mike smirked at her for a moment. “Well, if we must,” he said, before–

“What the fuck!” Robin yelled, although, yeah, she should have seen it coming. 

Mike had reached up, grabbing Will’s jaw, and pulled him into his face, pressing their lips together in what was clearly not a first kiss, and Robin–

Well. Robin couldn’t be mad about it. 

Will broke the kiss almost immediately, flushing red and glaring at Robin. “Oh my god, you’re so lucky we already talked and figured it out,” he said, standing up and crossing his arms, staring her down, “because otherwise, I would be so pissed at you.” 

“Yeah, it’s not fun,” Steve said. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Robin complained, glaring at him. “You can’t tell me you’re not happy right now.”

“What?” Mike asked. He stood, too, and put his arm around Will’s shoulders, leaning his head on Will’s head, with a thoroughly blissed out expression on his face.

Robin watched with a smug expression as Steve linked his pinky around Eddie’s. “Oh, yeah, I had this talk with them, too,” she said. 

“But we hadn’t talked it out,” Eddie added. 

“So, yeah. Consider yourselves lucky,” Steve said, before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s temple. 

“You’re gay?” Mike asked. He looked bewildered, the poor thing. 

“Bisexual,” Steve said, easily, casually. “I think.” 

Robin was so proud of him. He did his goddamn reading.

“This is crazy,” Will said. “Robin, you can’t just do this.”

“I can!” she said, raising a finger in victory. “I am the new Murray!”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Will asked. 

Robin raised her eyebrows at the curse word. “You don’t know about Murray?” 

“He got my sister and Jonathan together by being super blunt and telling them to admit their sexual feelings to each other,” Mike said into Will’s hair. 

“Gross,” Will said, grimacing. 

Robin laughed. 

“And he got Joyce and Hopper together,” Steve added. 

“Shit, what is it with Murray and matchmaking Byers?” Eddie asked. “You’re lucky Robin got to you first.”

“That’s right!” Robin yelled, grateful for another point in her favor. “You’re just lucky it’s me and not Murray. He doesn’t know your history like I do.”

“Yes, yes, it was a great speech, Robin,” Steve said, dragging Eddie to his feet and, taking his hand, leading him towards the door. “We’ll see you later. No more speech practice at Eddie’s house when we’re trying to have alone time.”

Robin groaned at the thought and flipped him off. “Love you, dingus!” she called as the door closed. She looked at Mike and Will, who were all but climbing on top of one another, they were pressed so close as they watched her. “Happy?” 

“Happy,” Will confirmed. 

“Mike?” 

Mike nodded, his eyes shining. “Hey, Robin?” 

“Yeah?” She smiled at him. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “For caring.”

“Oh.” Robin’s smile wavered a little as she was hit with an emotion she couldn’t name. “Of course. Of course I care.”

“I just…” Mike hesitated. 

Will squeezed him around his middle. 

“I don’t have a lot of, you know, older people who really see me, or, well, who are happy with me, or…” He stumbled over his words, closing his eyes briefly. “It’s nice to know someone who is like me. Who…” 

“Yeah,” Robin said, taking two steps forward, drawing both boys into a hug, squeezing them around their necks and closing her eyes. “Yeah, of course. I’m here for you two. I mean…” She drew back and took a deep breath. “Not that, you know, I know what’s going on or how to be a real adult, but I’m happy to talk, or listen, whenever you want, and if all you want is someone a little older than you who gets it, I can be that person. For either one of you.” 

Mike’s eyes were watery. “Thanks,” he said again. 

Robin nodded. “Anytime. And I know Eddie and Steve feel the same."

Will smiled at the both of them. “Robin?” 

“Yeah?” She turned to look at him. Her little protege, all grown up. 

His smile widened. “We need some alone time, now.”

“Fuck you, Byers,” she said around a laugh, even as she grabbed up her coat and headed to the door. “See if I ever do anything nice for you again.”

“Love you,” Will called as she closed the door behind her. 

“Love you,” she said, even though the door was closed. Robin thought that maybe there was never enough love in the world, and she decided to say it as often as she thought it. 

She hoped she got to say it a lot. 

*** 

“What’s the emergency?” Dustin asked, barging into Mike’s basement and clattering down the stairs. “How did everyone get here before me?” He skidded to a stop and plopped down on the couch, squeezed between Jane and Lucas. 

Mike looked at Will, nervousness flashing across his face. 

Will smiled and took a small step sideways, encroaching on Mike’s territory a little. “Mike had something he wanted to say.” 

He watched as a million emotions flashed across Mike’s face, always so expressive. 

“Okay,” Max said after a minute’s hesitation. “Say it.”

“Yeah,” Lucas chimed in. “Whatever it is, we’re here for you, man.”

Will watched as Mike took a deep breath. 

It had been two months–pleasant, hazy, dream-like months, filled with secret dates and late night talks, kissing (and a little bit more than kissing) and kissing and kissing and kissing, confessions and old hurts aired out, sneaking in and out of each other’s bedrooms, and Will was incandescently, blindingly happy. He would have been happy to continue it forever. 

But Mike wanted to be brave for him. So he called all his friends together, to the place where they had spent hours of their childhood as a little group of weirdos, all promising to love each other through it all. Freaks and Upside Downs and coming outs alike. 

“Will and I are dating.” Mike’s voice shook at the last word. His hands were trembling slightly. 

“And?” Jane asked after a moment’s heavy silence. 

“And what?” Mike asked, frowning at her. “That’s it.”

“Oh.” She shrugged and leaned back into the couch cushion. “I thought there would be more.”

Will smiled at the look on Mike’s face. “What– What do you mean, more? That’s not enough?” 

“No, not since I have known you liked each other for so long,” she said, always blunt in her affect and words. 

“You what? I didn’t even know,” Mike complained. 

“How long have you been together?” Dustin asked, apparently finding his voice and getting over the surprise of the announcement. “Have you two kissed? Is it serious? Have you been on actual dates, or, you know, just kissing or hanging out?” 

“Dustin, calm down,” Max chided him. 

“No, I need to know!” he said, alight like he always was when learning new information. “Did you two get together before Steve and Eddie? I heard them complaining about someone stealing their thunder and I didn’t know what they meant, unless they meant you. Are you two going to college together, or are you going to do long distance?” 

“Dustin!” Max and Lucas chorused. Max put her hand over Dustin’s mouth. 

Mike looked like he was thinking. “Uh, we’ve been together two months, three days, and fourteen hours,” he started. 

“Oh, my god,” Will said, startled. “You know exactly how long?” 

Mike just smiled at him. “We have kissed many times, and it is very serious.” He took Will’s hand in his. “We’ve gone on dates, uh, a few times, and I think we got together a little bit before the two of them, yeah.” 

Dustin nodded. “My curiosity is quenched,” he said after Max lowered her hand. “Thank you.” 

“Kiss!” Jane said. 

Mike’s face turned beet red in a matter of seconds, to Will’s amusement. “No,” he said. “Not like that.” 

“But I would like to see,” she pouted. 

“Wouldn’t we all,” Max said, cheerful, throwing a cheeky wink Will’s way. 

He rolled his eyes. 

“We would not,” Lucas protested. “I mean, you’re still my best friends, and I don’t want to see that.”

“I am curious,” Dustin said. “I think you should.”

Will laughed and turned to Mike as everyone began to bicker, filling the space with the cheerful back and forth they had been missing for a while–since the tension, as their friends had called it. “Should we just…?” he asked, pulling on Mike’s hand lightly, pitching his voice low so nobody would hear. “You know. For fun.”

Mike’s mouth tiled up a little bit. “You just want to kiss me.”

“Well, yeah,” Will said, his face flushing with heat despite the confidence he attempted to project. “Always.”

Mike nodded. 

Will pulled him in, placing a soft kiss on Mike’s mouth, and the voices in the background cut out for a moment. 

Mike tilted his head, slotting their lips together just right, and opened his mouth, pushing Will’s open as he went, and–

“Gross!” Lucas called out. “Boo! Nobody wants to see that!”

“Shut up, they’re happy,” Will heard Max say. 

He grinned into the kiss and tuned everybody else out, letting his brain fade to a quiet hum as he reveled in the moment. He was safe, everyone he loved was safe and close, and he was kissing the boy he loved around the people he loved. 

And, fuck. He was happy. 

*** 

“I don’t want to tell my family,” Mike said later that night, curled around Will’s body like a koala bear in Will’s bedroom. “I mean, you can tell your mom and Hopper if you want, obviously, but I don’t think my mom or dad would take it well.”

Will nodded. “Whatever you want. It’s up to you. Although I have to warn you, Nancy might know.”

Mike’s eyebrows shot up, closer to his hairline. “Why?” 

“I told Jonathan,” Will admitted, sounding sheepish. 

“Okay.” Mike curled in closer, tucking his head under Will’s chin. “That’s okay.”

“Sorry. I should have asked.”

“No, baby,” Mike said, pressing a kiss to Will’s collarbone. “It’s fine. I’m glad you told him.”

“He’s happy for us.”

“Mm.” Mike breathed in, letting the scent of Will’s soap and laundry detergent and warm skin in, familiar and comforting. “I’m happy for us, too.” 

“No more tension?” he joked. 

“No.” He smiled and closed his eyes. “No more tension.”

“I love you.” 

“You know what they say,” Mike said. His body felt very heavy, warm and relaxed. 

“What?” Will asked, reaching his fingers up to play with Mike’s hair. 

“It makes you crazy,” Mike mumbled. 

“What does?” 

“Love.” 

Will chuckled a little, the feeling reverberating through Mike’s shoulder and down his body. “Well. Crazy together, yeah?” 

Mike smiled and looked up at his (perfect, wonderful, beautiful) boyfriend. “Crazy together.”