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Mike crumples up the letter with a resigned weariness, tossing it into the bin next to Will’s desk. And Will, as gently as he can, eases himself down to sit beside his friend. He has felt many things over the last few hours: panic, fear, anxiety, but this, this he can handle. Maybe he and Mike have only had a handful of phone calls since he moved, and even less letters than that, and maybe this entire spring break trip has been a bust, but he knows when to play his part.
The advisor part—the best friend. Little Will Byers, listener of problems, always a word of wisdom, even if it’s small. Yes, he can do this.
Mike sighs.
“Before the cops came, me and El, we had a bad fight. We never fight.” Mike looks so sad and so serious that it breaks Will’s heart. “I mean, we fought before, but just like, silly fights, stupid fights.”
Will gives a small nod to show that he’s listening.
“But, I don’t know, this one just felt more adult. Like it…it just felt more real. Like it was a fight you can’t come back from. I know she broke up with me, and that if I said the right thing it might not have happened, and she might want me there with her right now, but I don’t know what that thing is and…”
He’s kind of rambling, but also not really, these are true words of anguish and frustration, and Will can’t take it anymore.
“No, look, Mike, you’re gonna see her again, and whatever you didn’t say you can say it to her then. Okay?”
Mike nods, and then shakes his head.
“That’s the thing, what if…what if it’s too late? Or what if she doesn’t…like what I need to say?”
“What do you mean?”
Mike’s mouth does that thing, that cute thing that Will adores, where his lips twist to the side slightly; a sign that he’s nervous or uncomfortable or embarrassed. He feels a flutter in his chest and tries to squash it down, because now is not the time to be getting flustered. He’s supposed to be a sympathetic friend.
“So, I’ve been having this problem,” he gestures vaguely with his hands. “Where I can’t…” he trails off with a sigh, hanging his head low.
“You can’t what?” Will prods gently.
Mike rests his chin on his fists, looking all like a pouting child, as if Will is the one forcing this out of him.
“I haven’t been able to tell El that, you know, I love her, or whatever,” he mumbles.
“Oh,” Will says.
“Yeah. Oh.”
“Well, for how long?”
“Since you guys left.”
Shocked doesn’t even begin to cover how Will feels right now. The feeling washes over him, from the top of his head down to his toes, icy cold disbelief.
“What?” he croaks. “But I thought you guys were so happy?”
“We are!” Mike insists, sitting up to face him, cheeks flushed with righteous indignation. “I mean, we were.” The fire fizzles out. “I just, I dunno, I said it once back in Hawkins in the heat of the moment, and it was so big, and I do love her I just don’t know if I, you know…love her.”
“And you don’t know how to tell her without it all blowing up, right?” Will concludes.
“Exactly.”
There’s a long moment of silence, with Mike lost in his thoughts, and Will not knowing what to say, too caught up in his brain’s mantra of He doesn’t love her?! He doesn’t love her?! to be of much assistance.
“This all really sucks,” Mike says after a minute, a little too casually, eyes just this side of too innocent. “but between you and me, I’ve kind of been wondering what it would be like to break up.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, obviously I’m upset! And I’m worried sick! But also like, we’ve been together a really long time. I’ve never dated anybody else. I’ve never kissed anybody else. It’d be nice, I think, to see what that’s like.”
“O-Oh. I think I can understand that.”
He doesn’t. If he were the one kissing Mike, Will imagines that he’d never want to kiss anyone else for the rest of his life. El is probably going to take this news terribly—Will sure would. In fact, anyone that Mike dates probably would. It’s Mike after all, they’d be crazy not to.
“Yeah?”
Will nods and forces a fake grin on his face.
“Definitely.”
“Is there anyone at Lenora you wanna make out with? You know, El said you’ve been acting kinda weird lately. Is there someone I should know about?”
He’s using his teasing voice, eyebrows lifted high near his bangs, grin spreading slowly across his face.
Will is paralyzed. What is he supposed to say? That he’s been acting strange because of Mike? Because of how much he’s missed him? Because he finally realized just how much he loves him? That he spent weeks on a stupid painting as a gift just for him? That he has no interest in girls and never will, that no girl could ever compare to how beautiful he is anyway?
He’d rather throw up, right here, right now, all over himself. It doesn’t matter that he told himself that he’d be brave over spring break.
He blurts out a completely different truth instead.
“I haven’t kissed anyone before!”
Will’s face is bright red. He can feel it. And shame is burning in his gut, curdling and sour like spoiled milk.
Mike has a look of blank surprise at his outburst.
“Really?” He seems genuinely confused. “Why not?”
Will wipes his sweaty palms on his pants and shrugs.
“Well, do you want to?”
“Kiss someone? Sure.”
“Well, I kind of meant kiss me, but that too, I guess.”
Will’s brain stops.
Starts.
Stops.
Starts.
“What?”
Mike’s cheekbones are flushed, and he scratches at his neck with one finger.
“Well, I mean, I know you don’t like girls much, you know? And sometimes I wonder what it’s like…kissing a guy, I mean. And you’re my best friend! And I—”
Will stops hearing Mike because Oh my God he knows. He knows Will doesn’t like girls. Mike thinks about guys sometimes too. Mike wants to kiss Will. Here. Right now. In this room.
“Okay.”
He interrupts Mike midsentence, some blustering thing about consenting partners, which is honestly sweet.
Mike’s grin is huge.
“Cool.”
“Cool,” Will echoes.
“C’mere,” Mike pats the miniscule space between them, urging Will to slide closer.
He does, heart pounding in his throat. He can feel the heat radiating off Mike from here, can smell the scent of sandalwood and boy.
“Relax,” Mike murmurs, tracing his long fingers along Will’s own. He looks up at him from underneath dark eyelashes, so close he could count the freckles across the bridge of his nose, and he’s falling in love all over again. This is every daydream he’s ever had, every birthday and shooting star wish come true. “Can I kiss you?”
Will nods, and Mike sinks in.
His lips are softer than he ever could have imagined, vaguely chapped, but so careful and tender that he wants to cry. Will gasps slightly, and Mike takes the opportunity to part their lips, deepening the kiss, pressing harder, stealing his breath away as one kiss turns into two, three. Mike gently places a hand at Will’s jaw before capturing his lower lip between his, causing him to sigh a soft sound. Mike hums. Pulls back to press a kiss to Will’s chin, then his cheek.
“Am I dreaming?” Will whispers
“I don’t think so,” Mike whispers back.
Will opens his eyes, and sure enough, Mike is there, lips swollen and pupils blown wide.
“You should see yourself, Byers. Gorgeous.” It’s said low and playful, and it sends a shiver up his spine.
“Kiss me again?” He asks, braver than he’s felt in a long while.
Mike doesn’t answer, just leans forward, capturing his mouth another time.
Will doesn’t know what this moment is, or what will come after. All he knows right now is that he’ll cherish these moments for the rest of eternity.