Chapter Text
“Yeah,” He answered, in an oddly solemn voice. The offhanded comments from Max still crossed his mind apparently.
“Oh, sorry for interrupt-“
“No wait, I meant no,” Will sputtered, “We just finished the last bit.
“Oh, uh” Mike chuckled out in reply, “You're really stumbling over your words.”
“You could say that, I guess yeah.”
“Well, I was just— why don't you come over?” Mike asked, it didn't sound like he had any ulterior motive, or any feelings reaping inside of him, like Max was so adamant on.
“Right now?” Will continued, "It's already late, I don't really like biking at night to get home.. y'know."
“No- Yeah I know! I wouldn't want you to, just— stay the night?”
“Mike?”
“Will.”
“Why do you want me to come? Are you alright?” Will questioned, he and Mike weren't as close as before, they barely came over to each other's homes when it wasn't some type of meeting within the party.
“Ye— actually, not really.” Mike lied through his teeth, “The break-up is kinda hitting hard, I want to get my mind off it.”
“Fine, I’ll be there soon, okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah I copy!” Mike replied, he was weird, just like Max said.
The walkie faded out as Will made his way to his bag and out the storage closet, he didn't want to go to Mike's house, but at the same time he didn't want to not go.
He moved through the hallways, his once idle hands moving to caress each locker, running the tips of his fingers across each one.
The door at the end of the hallway seemed farther than it normally was, maybe it was the pace his thoughts were rolling in but the walk down the hall felt weird. Not the good kind of weird either, it was making him think way more than he would like.
When he opened the door leading outside a gust of wind hit his face, moving his hair backwards and then back to normal— albeit a bit messy.
He unlocked his bike from the stand and began pedaling towards the Wheeler home, a home he learned the way to and from unintentionally.
He pedaled slower, pushing his weight on the bike and slowly pushing one foot to the next as to slow it down a bit.
The wind began tugging on his sleeves, but it was a warm breeze so it was better. The warm breeze felt normal against his skin, so his thoughts weren’t distracted.
His thoughts played a constant loop of the first words Max had said to him while putting away boxes,
“How painfully in love you are with Michael Wheeler.”
He hated how Max knew something that he didn't, Will knew he wasn't in love with Mike, but something about the way Max kept saying something about it sent a shiver up his spine.
But as he thought it over, he didn't react the way Lucas would if someone said he was in love with Dustin. He went immediately into a soft defense, he wasn't disgusted. He didn't shoot out a” gross” and laugh as if Max’s comment was a joke.
He should've, that's what he should've done.
But he didn't.
And now he was biking to Mike's house, his thoughts to say no and go home were downplayed by his body that automatically followed the path of the others home.
He was biking to that home, with these weird—disgusting thoughts about his friend.
He was biking to that home with a thought that had crossed his mind at least two times before, but never stayed, it came and it went. It never stayed for this long.
But now, he was doing something he didn't do with his other friends, he was tracing over their conversation. Dissecting it almost.
Mikes voice, broken up a little from the walkie talkie, still echoed in his mind.
“Just— stay the night?”
And no, it hadn't been romantic, it wasn't flirty or nothing like that. It was casual, it was friendly, and that was the problem.
And it wasn't meant to mean anything, but at the same time it meant everything. For some reason.
Will shifted his hands on the handlebars, guiding the bike to the right, the last street he had to ride down to reach Mike's home.
He began gripping harder as he neared his house, the closer he got, the tighter the grip became.
Will didn't know why he felt this way over it being casual, he didn't think he wanted it to be romantic, but the friendly invitation stung a bit more. Or at least he thought.
“Mike?” —- “Will.”
And then followed by the laughter, the one that lasted in his ears, the one he hated when it faded out.
He hated that, he hated how intimate the name calling felt, how fluttery he got at Mike's laughter. He really hated that.
He hated how these thoughts are leaving his mind even more.
The tires on his bike crunched softly at the contact with the gravel in Mike's driveway. The porch light was already on, like it was waiting for someone to pull in.
Maybe it was, the sun was at least an hour from going all the way down.
Will moved to set his bike down in the grass, for some reason he wanted to be quiet, he didnt wanna make noises, as if being quiet would make this night move faster.
He walked towards the porch, hand hovering against the door about to knock on it, but before he was able to—
The door opened, exposing Mike, a sweatshirt he’d seen a million times over, plaid pants, and messy hair. Which couldn't be determined if he was laying down or was just doing nothing, his hair always had a messy appearance.
“Oh- Hey Will!” Mike said, backing up to make space for Will to come in.
Will nodded in response, messing with the hair at his nape. “Hey.”
A beat of silence overcame the two boys, only sound heard beside their own heartbeats was the clicking of the door.
Mike spoke up first, “You know, you didn't have to come.”
“You told me to?”
“Yeah, but I didn't think you’d be up for it, that you’d actually come.”
Will slanted his head a little and gave a look directed only to mike, “You asked.”
“Did you not want me to come?” Will continued on.
“No! No I did!” Mike argued back— not exactly arguing but he always got defensive when people put words in his mouth.
They stood there, silently for a second, it was awkward. Most likely because they weren't used to an awkward feeling between themselves. It was always comfortable.
But despite the silence and the weird feeling that came with it, they didn't lean away from each other's eyes, they continued staring at each other, as if waiting for the other to say something.
“You— you want some water? Chips?” Mike offered, breaking the eye contact they had held for no more than ten seconds.
Mike had already been out of the living room and was ahead of Will, just by a little, headed to the kitchen.
“Sure,” Will uttered, softly. His eyes solely planted on the ground below him as he followed behind Mike, as if he wasn't close enough to the Wheeler to look around his home.