Chapter Text
will’s head was pounding before he even made it up the front steps.
today was… worse than the usual day at hawkins hellscape. especially lunch.
that whole situation with chance? he didn’t even want to think about it.
and mike? that was a whole different conversation.
his eyes burned from staring at the whiteboard all day, and his arms ached from lugging his books — plus, his brain was still buzzing with half a dozen math problems he definitely didn’t understand.
all he wanted — needed — was to collapse somewhere before he had to go out for patrol.
the front door stuck for a second, like it always did, before giving way with a groan.
as he opened the door, all he could smell was his mom’s coffee brewing faintly from the kitchen — and somewhere farther in the house, jonathan’s stereo hummed softly.
will dropped his backpack by the wall with a dull thud and kicked off his sneakers, one at a time, not even caring that they fell sloppy.
he didn’t really have time to care about the little things.
he started towards the couch, ready to lay down, even just for five minutes. just five minutes.
but, before he could even sit down on the couch—
“will!” joyce’s voice rang out from the kitchen, followed by the clinking of her china plates.
he didn’t answer right away — maybe if he stayed silent, she’d assume he wasn’t home yet.
“will!”
so much for that. he groaned softly. “what?”
“phone!”
of course. the one thing in this house older then the vintage ceiling lights.
that ancient wall-mounted phone.
will dragged himself upright, muttering something under his breath about karma and unpaid labor, and shuffled over.
he quickly took the phone off the wall, pressing the cold receiver to his ear. “hello?”
“finally,” dustin’s voice exploded into his ear, too loud. “what took you so long?”
will frowned. “why are you calling the house phone?”
“because they can track cell phones, will. do you want the government to hear our conversations? calling your personal phone is like sending the government a gps pin.”
will blinked. “then what about our text messages?”
“i…” dustin started. “deleted them!”
will just deadpanned, even though dustin couldn’t see his face. “and they can probably still hear us over this line too, genius.”
a pause. then the unmistakable clack-clack-clack of dustin’s keyboard came faintly through the receiver. “okay, yeah. fair point. but retro surveillance is way cooler. and— don’t change the subject!”
“i didn’t know we had one,” will rolled his eyes.
“well i was getting to it—!”
will pinched the bridge of his nose. “what do you want, dustin?”
“so…” dustin started. “how was lunch today?” he said, his tone shifting. that teasing tone dustin liked to use with will.
will felt his stomach tighten. “it was… lunch.”
“mhm.”
will sighed, looking over to the kitchen to make sure his mom wasn’t paying attention. “dustin—”
“i’m just saying… you were definitely blushing over that chance guy,” dustin laughed, making will’s face heat up. “did someone finally catch up to mike?”
“what? no,” will said quickly, his voice pitching a little too high.
“ohhh, that’s a yes if i’ve ever heard one,” dustin sing-songed. “and mike was right there, man. front row seats to the whole thing!"
will rubbed the back of his neck. “you’re imagining things.”
“mmh, i don’t think so. the air at that table was so tense it could’ve shattered glass. i bet mike’s still bitching about it in his brain,” will tried not to picture it — mike’s jaw set, his eyes narrowed, his fork barely touching his food.
will gripped the phone cord a little tighter without meaning to. “can we not talk about this?” he asked quietly.
on the other end, a faint clack-clack-clack started up. it wasn’t loud, but it was definitely there. “what are you doing?” will asked, suspicious.
“me? nothing,” dustin replied, way too fast.
“dustin.”
another beat of silence. then, “… okay, fine, you caught me. i’m running a little… surveillance.”
will frowned. “surveillance?"
“possibly…?” dustin winced from the other side of the phone.
will just closed his eyes. “you’re unbelievable. what kind of surveillance?"
“whatever, you caught me," dustin sighed. "but in my defense, someone’s gotta keep an eye out while you’re busy dodging heart eyes from chance and mike!” will opened his mouth to protest, but dustin cut in, voice pitching up a couple octaves.
”okay… i know i’m not your official chair guy yet—”
“you’re not,” will cut in, flatly.
“— but!” dustin streamrolled ahead, clearly ignoring him. “i might have just found something — a… situation.”
will sighed. “what kind of situation?”
“two, maybe three guys outside of goldsmith’s jewelry. the one over by the strip mall. one has a crowbar, which is definitely not standard window-shopping equipment.”
will straightened, glancing instinctively towards jonathan’s room door. “how sure are you?”
“pretty sure. but they’re amateur hour. i'm look at this... grainy mall security feed and—” dustin took a deep breath, seemingly loosing his breath from all his ranting. will could hear the typing in the back.
“i’m trying to look for more angles—” he said, sounding strained. “all i know is that this guy is terrible at crime. like, you could take him down in your sleep.”
will looked around his house quickly, to make sure nobody was around him. jonathan was still in his room while joyce was still in the kitchen. el was probably at hopper’s cabin, or hiding in her room.
“amateur hour?” will scoffed. “you’re being vague, dustin. if this was an interview, you’d already be kicked out by now.”
“vague? excuse me, this is expert analysis,” dustin shot back, the clacking of keys getting faster. “i’m just saying, you could handle this without even messing up your hair. well… your mask hair.”
will smirked despite himself. “you’ve clearly never worn this suit. it’s all mask hair.”
“whatever, byers,” dustin said, and will could practically hear the grin in his voice. “point is — it’s small time, but still worth your attention. these idiots are just asking to get webbed up.”
will leaned his elbow on the wall, lowering his voice. “you’re not just trying to get me out there to distract me from… you know.”
“from mike and chance? absolutely not. but if that is a side benefit, hey, i’m not complaining.”
will groaned quietly, glancing back toward the kitchen before starting for the stairs. “you’re impossible.”
“and you’re wasting daylight,” dustin replied cheerfully. “the longer you stand there, the more likely these guys are to remember that jewelry stores have alarms.”
will reached the top of the stairs and cracked his bedroom door, scanning for any wandering siblings or moms. coast clear.
will could still hear dustin clicking away at his keyboard. “and byers—”
he narrowed his eyes, even though dustin still couldn’t see him. “what?”
“don’t get your butt kicked. that would be embarrassing for the city’s friendly neighborhood—”
will cut him off with a sigh. “yeah, yeah. try not to hack the pentagon while i’m gone,” he replied sarcastically.
“too late.” dustin’s tone was way too smug for will liking, but he just let it slide. he huffed a laugh before he hung up, slipping the phone back on the wall as he started down the hallway.
the second he turned toward his bedroom door, his heart stopped cold.
el was standing right there in the hall, barefoot, arms resting at her sides.
“where are you going?” she asked, her head tilting slightly, eyes narrowed in that careful, quiet way that made her almost scarier than his own mom.
will froze mid-step, his brain scrambling for something — anything — normal to say. “uh… to my… room?”
el’s brow furrowed as she scanned him intently. he could feel himself slowly breaking under her gaze. “you have that face.”
“what face?”
“the one you have when you’re lying.”
will laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “i don’t have a lying face.”
“yes, you do,” she said flatly. “your eyes get all…” she squinted and gestured vaguely at his face. “like that.”
will shifted uncomfortably. “okay, first of all, that’s rude. second of all, i’m really not going anywhere—”
el’s gaze stayed locked on him, unblinking. “you’re hiding something.”
he swallowed, forcing out a casual laugh. “i’m not hiding anything. i’m just… going for a walk.”
“right now?” she asked, one eyebrow rising, looking towards the window, which was stained with raindrops.
will hadn’t even noticed the fact that it was storming outside, the occasional thunder blasting through the house, slightly shaking the trees as they continued to sway in the air. will let out a fake yawn and started edging toward his room. “heard rain water's good for you. helps you... think.”
she didn’t move out of his way so he could continue down the hall, still studying him like a hawk. “you’re being weird.”
will grinned awkwardly. “thanks, i try. now, if you’ll excuse me—!” he slipped past her before she could say anything else, ducking into his room and shutting the door with a quiet click.
only when he leaned against it, listening for her retreating footsteps, did he let out a slow breath.
the job had been easy — laughably so.
three guys, a crowbar, and the tactical genius of a deer. will webbed them up in record time — left them dangling for hawkins pd to deal with, and was back in the air before anyone could get a clear look at him.
he launched himself off the side of the strip mall and into the hawkins air, the wind sharp against his cheeks — cold from the raining that came over the town earlier. today was pretty calm. nothing was really going on — from what will had seen.
and if anything, dustin or hopper would’ve told him something. so now, he’s on his way back home, swinging from building to building, trying to clear his mind.
that’s when it hit him.
that hum under his skin. that creeping static at the base of his neck. the same sensation he’s been feeling on and off for days now. will just muttered underneath his breath. “not you again…” and swung toward it anyway.
it tugged him left, through the sleepy strip of downtown. past the diner. past the hardware store. the hum sharpened. he followed it instinctively, swinging lower over the rooftops, scanning the sidewalks and alleys as the sensation sharpened.
left.
he arced hard, web releasing from the streetlight with a snap, landing in a crouch on the flat roof of the hardware store. he landed light on the damp edge of the roof.
closer.
he moved again, the pull growing heavier — it wasn’t like before, but there. the same nagging presence he’d been feeling for days.
and then… there. there it was.
it wasn’t some, huge monster or some shadow person like will was expecting, no.
it was a lone figure leaned against the lamppost at the far end of an alley — posture casual. too casual — hands stuffed in their jacket pockets. the yellow light from the flickering lamp overhead caught on their hair. a person.
he also noticed slight shift of their stance when he noticed the shadow moving above him. the figure looked up, squinting through the dark.
and that’s will’s stomach dropped.
“hey,” chance called up, voice like they were just passing in the school hallway.
will froze. his mind scrambled for anything to say. anything — but chance’s eyes flicked up to the mask, and there wasn’t a shred of doubt there.
he just blinked. “… do i know you?” he asked, trying for that scratchy, made-up spider-man voice he’s been trying to use lately — dustin’s recommendation.
chance smirked. “yeah, you do,” his spider-sense hummed again. not danger. just there. watching him.
will crouched on the ledge. “okay… either you’re the friendliest, most well-known mugger in hawkins, or—”
“— or, i know who you are.”
that made will’s chest tighten. “… pretty sure you don’t.”
chance didn’t move closer, just tilted his head like he was trying to get a better look. will didn’t move. he couldn’t chance just let the silence stretch, the only sound being the buzzing of the light above.
“you,” chance said, now stepping closer until he was just under the fire escape, still looking up. “you’re spider-man.”
will’s throat felt dry, but still — he started again “i—”
“don’t bother lying.” chance’s tone wasn’t sharp when he cut in — if anything, it was weirdly calm. “i’ve known for a while.”
will’s pulse kicked up hard. he tiled his head. “how?”
chance just sighed. “there was a day — after school. you had your headphones on. you didn’t hear me calling after you. so i followed you—”
“wow, stalker much?” will cut in, staring at chance, every muscle tensed.
“— just to catch up! not in a creepy way,” chance said quickly — holding up his hands — giving another short laugh from will’s reaction. “i just wanted to talk to you. and… next thing i know, you’re climbing a wall and swinging halfway across town.”
“and why did you, want to talk to me?” will asked again, his tone still bitter.
chance hesitated, like he hadn’t expected to get called out. “… maybe, i just thought you were interesting.”
will narrowed his eyes behind the mask. “that’s not an answer.”
chance shrugged, his expression unreadable under the glow of the light. “maybe i don’t have one you’d believe.”
will shifted on the ledge, every instinct screaming to get out of this alley. but the spider-sense was still there — not warning him to run, not telling him chance was a threat… just humming, low and constant, like it was keeping him here.
his whole body was still stiff.
“relax, byers. i’m not gonna tell anyone,” chance huffed another laugh, a small smirk appearing on his face.
“… not gonna tell anyone what?” will asked, still not giving him the win.
chance’s smirk deepened. “that our very own spider-man just happens to share a face with the quiet guy in my history class.”
will stared at him from the roof, weighing his options — bolt, deny, or drop down and have face whatever this was turning into.
will’s fingers curled a little tighter on the brick ledge. “… okay. so, what do you want?” his voice was flat, but the mask kept his expression hidden. “are you trying to blackmail me, or something?”
chance actually laughed at that — not mocking, but like will had just told him a joke. “blackmail you? what would i even ask for? free swings to school? a cut of your… what, spider profits?”
“i don’t have spider profits.”
“exactly. lousy blackmail target.” chance shifted his weight, leaning a shoulder against the wall like they were just having a casual chat and not a info-that-could-blow-will’s-life-apart chat. “if i wanted something, i’d have asked for it by now.”
will’s rolled his eyes behind the mask. “then why tell me at all?”
chance tilted his head, smirk softening into something more unreadable. “because… figure it’s better for me to tell you rather than you wonder why some jock in your history class keeps staring at you.”
will’s stomach twisted again. “creepy. was that supposed to make me feel better?”
“not my job to make you feel better.” chance’s gaze held steady, unflinching. “but maybe my job is making sure you know you’re not as invisible as you think you are.”
the spider-sense thrummed again — steady, quiet, persistent.
will’s finally shifted his weight back, toes finding the ledge behind him. “this conversation is over.”
“sure,” chance said quickly, like he didn’t want will to leave just yet. “but before you go—” he stepped closer to the roof where will was now standing on. “— give me your number.”
will let out a sharp laugh. “not happening.”
chance just grinned up at him. “c’mon. for emergencies. like… if someone’s murdering me. or if i accidentally follow you across town again. you know, life or death situations.”
“that’s what 911 is for.”
“yeah, but are they spider-man?” chance said, leaning casually against the fire escape. “think about it — you’ll have my number too. just in case you ever need… whatever it is i’m good for.”
“being a stalker?” will asked sarcastically. “hmm, honestly? could be helpful.”
chance let out another real laugh — like what will said was actually funny. “yeah. being a stalker,” he responded.
will hated that a tiny part of him knew it was easier to give in than argue all night. and that another part of him wanted this conversation to keep going. his heart was thumping out of his chest — from adrenaline. from shock. from… he didn’t even know himself.
“… fine,” he muttered, dropping down just far enough to toss phone number into chance’s waiting hand. chance took it with a smile, typing his number and contact into will’s phone.
“see?” chance smirked as will pulled back. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” will didn’t answer — he just rolled his eyes under the mask.
“and… this is your real number, right? not you’re… spiderman number? the one y’know, you give to fans,” chance asked, with a smirk, handing back his phone.
will stared down at him. “yeah, it’s my real number,” will grabbed his phone hastily, and then turned around. “i don’t even have a spider-man number. but, if i did — i probably would’ve gave you that one,” will said, a small smile starting to form on his face.
“i’m flattered,” chance said, pocketing his phone like he’d just won something. “guess i’ll find out when i text you later.”
will ignored that, firing a web to the edge of the next building. “don’t!” he called over his shoulder.
chance’s voice followed him anyway — he’s always seemed like the type who wanted the last word. “no promises, byers!”
the swing back home should’ve been routine. instead, every stretch of web felt heavier, like the city air had thickened around him.
his brain wouldn’t stop cycling through it — the look chance had given him, the casual way he said, “i’ve known for a while” — chance’s number now sitting in his phone like it belonged there.
by the time he landed on the roof of his own house — heart still thudding — the whole thing had replayed in his head maybe around 50 times. chance knowing felt… heavier. stickier compared to when dustin found out.
dustin had been bad enough. him knowing was annoying, sure — but they were friends, and at least predictable. he knew where the lines were — a safe variable.
but chance? chance was an unknown variable. and unknowns? unknowns were dangerous.
he slipped through his window, taking off his mask quickly, shoving into his desk drawer. he raked a hand through his hair anxiously — his heart beating too fast. half from the night’s swing, half from something else entirely — his phone heavy in his pocket. chance’s number sitting there like a ticking bomb.
he didn’t even need to look at it to know chance’s number was there.
waiting.
and, deep down, will hated himself for wondering — waiting — when chance would use it.