Chapter Text
When the invitation came, Mike thought he’d drop dead right on the kitchen floor. And, to be fair, he almost did…
“Oh, Micheal! Joyce called yesterday.” The sound of chopping and Karen’s voice rang in her son’s ears slightly, how the hell could she be so…awake this early? Yeah, it was 10am on a Saturday but it was still a fucking Saturday. She set down the knife and turned away from her apple chunks as her son ambled slowly into the kitchen, no doubt for some ‘late’ breakfast, her free hand on her hip. “You know Joyce,” a slight pause permeated the air, as tense as a rubber band pulled taught. “Will’s mom?” Karen spoke slowly, carefully, like she was trying not to spook a trapped animal.
Mike huffed and rolled his eyes, trying to pretend he didn’t notice his mother’s wariness around this subject: the subject of Will. It’d been like this ever since the new Byers Family had left, ever since he had come to his mom shaken for some reason he couldn’t quite explain to her; or himself for that matter. And honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. Because he was over it. Very much over it. Mike no longer thought about the rain drenching his best friend’s shirt as he rode away, and if he did sometimes think about it he would most definitely not think about how he might not come back. So he grabs a bowl instead.
“Yeah, I think I’d remember my girlfriend’s mom,” he muttered, still decidedly not thinking about it. Karen just gave Mike a strange look, like there were words forming just behind her teeth that were begging to burst out through the gaps and into the world. But she bit down on them hard and shrugged, turning back to her apple cutting. Mike grabbed the Frosted Flakes from the top shelf with ease, thank you random extra growth spurt, blinking away the cobwebs of sleep that still stuck to his eyelashes. He’s started being plagued by dreams that had him tight in the clutches of deep sleep. Such beautiful, wonderful, awful dreams that made his throat close up, blood pressure rise to heaven as his brain and heart get dragged to hell.
Dreams of soft and warm brown hair tangled in his fingers, of eyes filled with ever-changing hues picking him apart instantly like crows to those left for dead. Trails of freckles and moles dancing across the smooth skin of a rounded face. Hands, smaller than his own, clamped around his biceps as nails dig into the flesh. Lips, so full and pink, moving and speaking and gasping and-
Okay, definitely time to stop that train of thought right there before it gets too hard to justify.
Those dreams curled around his insides weeks ago and now lie nestled in every crevice, such beautiful, wonderful, awful images pressing harshly against his skull until it was the only think he could see; a faceless, unrecognisable beauty he seems to know so well and want so madly.
Suddenly his mother’s voice, probably a little impatient after watching him just stare off into space with a no doubt dreamy look on his face, cuts through his thoughts like a hot scalpel. “Well anyways, she told me she’d be happy to have you stay in Lenora for the school holidays. Said that she’d love to see you and,” she coughs awkwardly, “that Will and Jane would love to as well…” His mom’s eyes avert for a moment as if she regrets ever telling her son this, flickering down at the floor before back up to Mike. “I told her you’ll be too busy with your friends to go.”
As soon as those last words were said, chaos ensued. A huge crash sounded as Mike dropped the whole box of Frosted Flakes into his poor unsuspecting bowl, followed by a deafening smash as the said bowl topples from the bench and onto the floor, a smaller clank as the spoon he must have retrieved sometime during his daydream follows it off the counter to join the auditory mayhem. Not to mention the bowl, box and spoon landed on Mike’s foot, making him squawk in pain. “You said what?!”
Watching Mike hold his foot with his knee to his chest, Karen just looked taken aback. “W-well I didn’t think-“
“Yeah! You didn’t!” The teen hopped out of the kitchen and to the phone, frantically dialling the Byers’ number as Karen called after him to clean his mess. Maybe that was a bit harsh, to yell at his mother and then ignore her, but there was no time. What if plans were set? What if it was too late and what if he didn’t get to see Will?
Wait, why Will? His mind stalled for a moment as the line rang; Mike wanted to see El, and not Will. Well, no, he wanted to see Will, of course he did, but he really should be wanting to see El more. Sure, Will was his best friend and Will was perfect like that. But El was his girlfriend, and a wonderful one at that. She literally had superpowers! How much cooler could you get? No one had a girlfriend like Mike did.
“Byers residence?” Holy…shit. Okay, now that was something he was very much not expecting; Mike felt his heart drop suspiciously low and his cheeks heat as Will Byers’ voice crackled through the phone. He sounded…different, but not a bad different. It was lighter, free from the perpetual sickness that seemed to follow him around when he lived in Hawkins, and it made Wheeler’s blood sing in his veins. He could almost picture his best friend in his mind: tanner skin in place of his usual sickly complexion, less hunched, bright eyes scrunched with a smile that radiated goodness. It had only been around a year but, Lord Almighty, he was fucking gorgeous to Mike. In a friend way of course. Will has always been gorgeous to him, and always will be. Platonically only.
“H-hello..?” Shit! He completely forgot to even answer the poor boy! Now Will probably thought he was some random stalker that was breathing down his phone! “H-hey Will! Sorry…u-uhm…about that. It’s uh, it’s Mike?” The silence from the other end was deafening, the line connecting them crackling with static. For a moment he thinks that maybe the brunet just hung up on him, then that glorious (wait, what) voice spoke again.
“Oh…hey Mike.” Will cleared his throat a little, probably fidgeting. Now how the fuck would he know that? He didn’t study every vocal cue Will had, not at all! And even if he did, it would only be as a friend who is concerned. But he didn’t need to dwell too long on that particular thought before the focus of said thought spoke again. “H-how can I help you?”
Christ, he made Will uncomfortable. Mike could hear it, the tremble of nervousness lacing every word that clings to Will’s lips, and it sent his mind reeling. He made his best friend uncomfortable. Fuck he was so screwed.
”Y-your mom! She uh, she said I could maybe come up and visit for the school holidays? But wh-when she called it was my mom who answered and for some reason she said I would be busy a-and I’m not so…” Micheal gulped a little, his free hand tugging at his sleep shirt nervously. He wanted to scream at himself because why the fuck can’t he just…be normal around Will?! What about his fucking best friend made it so hard to think straight?
”Oh right. U-uhm, yeah. O-okay, that’s fine, I’ll tell her you can come.” Thank high freaking heavens Will didn’t immediately hang up or tell Mike to never talk to him again. But each word the Byers boy spoke screamed discomfort and something else that made his heart clench in a way he’d only felt a handful of times. He had to know why Will sounded so off; why his Will was so closed off the moment he realised who was on the other end.
Mike stuttered for a moment, balking at his inner voice and its antics. Because when had it decided to call William Henry Byers his? The brunet didn’t belong to him, not really; Eleven did though. Not actually because you know, she wasn’t property or anything like that, but she was Mike’s girlfriend. So, technically, she was his just as much as he was hers. But Will was just his friend.
Friend, a word he’d been saying that a lot lately. The word almost sounded foreign to his ears the more he said it, like the vowels slowly morphed into something unnatural with every utterance.
𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗
𝙳𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚕𝚍 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙵𝚛ē𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑
𝙶𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜.
“𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜”
𝙵𝚛ē𝚘𝚗𝚍, 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚋
“𝚃𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚛, 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎”
Maybe it was strange he’d only ever say it so much when talking about Will. But that’s what he was - what they were. Friends. Nothing more. And when the two said their goodbyes, that’s what they still were. Just friends.