Work Text:
"Just know I'm right here hoping
that you'll come in with the rain."
The weatherman said there’s going to be a thunderstorm today, Mike remembers as he runs through the woods, past the trees, and into a place he once considered his home away from home. He doesn’t have a raincoat to shield himself from the storm. He finds himself unable to care.
The rain begins to pour; light, gentle drizzles turning into hard, angry patters, and Mike thinks that there couldn’t be any other weather that fits to match the flurry of anger, betrayal, confusion, and hurt that takes over his heart. He physically feels his chest ache, heartstrings tugging at his core.
What very little semblance of calm Mike had vanishes as he approaches his safe place. Or at least, what’s left of it. He had forgotten the state of Castle Byers from the last time he’s visited; it was too dark back then to see the extent of the damage Will had imposed on his hideaway. Before he knows it he’s kneeling against the ruined structure of broken branches and dirty, abandoned sheets. He finds himself unable to breathe, unable to tamp down the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes. If his heart was aching before, it definitely feels shattered now.
“Mike!” A voice from behind him calls. Mike wipes away his tears, which seems like a stupid thing to do, given that it’s dark and the rain is pouring and the boy he’s about to face may not even be able to tell the difference. It’s useless to run and hide as well. He’s well exposed: no Castle Byers to retreat to, no raincoat, nothing to conceal his pathetic attempts at being tough, being closed off, being fine.
He’s not fine, and he’s not sure he’s willing to pretend he is any further.
Mike turns around and stands up to face Will. He registers that the latter isn’t wearing a raincoat either, which means that Will had immediately run after him from his house. He doesn’t know if that action was a good thing or a bad thing.
(He silently beats himself up for not bringing a raincoat. If he couldn’t protect himself from the rain, the least he could do was protect Will.
And he couldn’t do that. Failure.)
It’s silent for a few moments as they stare at each other. The rain is still hard, it’s awfully cold, and Mike can’t really see clearly from the fog caused by the downpour. He’s crossing his arms and planting his feet on the ground, unwilling to move. His last guard is up.
Will eventually breaks the silence. “Wh-what are you doing out here? Why did you run off like that?” His voice is meek, cautious, and he’s approaching him with such concern in his stance that Mike can’t stand it.
“Why did you lie to me about the painting, Will?” Mike asks, voice steeled. “And don’t say you didn’t lie. It’s what Vecna showed me in my trance.”
This was the scenario: Mike had fallen under Vecna’s curse. He was one of the last people anyone expected to be targeted. And Vecna…he had picked at Mike’s greatest insecurities, with the painting used as his sole vision. You realize that Eleven did not commission that painting for you. All you’ve ever heard was lies. You are not needed. You are worthless. You have failed everyone that you love. Even until now, Mike can hear the faux pity and mockery of Vecna’s voice. In the end, Eleven had managed to enter his mind and save him just before any of his bones snapped.
But his ex-girlfriend heard everything. Mike didn’t like the look on her face when she held Vecna off and rescued him, bringing him back into the real world. He didn’t like the look on anyone’s faces when he opened his eyes: all confused, curious, and concerned. He saw the painting, framed proudly on his wall, and all he could think about was lies.
So he bolted and ran where his feet could take him. And now they’re here.
“I just wanted to help you,” Will sighed. “You looked so down and disappointed in yourself, Mike! I couldn’t just sit beside you and do nothing!”
“So you decided to just assume what El really felt about me?” Mike asks. “You weren’t the one in the relationship, Will!”
Something seems to snap inside Will, because his tired, gentle expression morphs into annoyance. “Gee, thanks for the reminder, Mike! I know I’m not in a relationship, much less yours! I know I don’t have any experience with that type of thing! But you put me on the spot, okay? It’s not my fault you can’t get your feelings about her and her feelings about you correctly!”
Mike’s anger feels like it’s about to go off in waves. But he wills himself to at the very least not yell at Will. “Look, you’re right. It isn’t your fault. But you still lied to me. You have never lied to me before.” A sob threatens to escape his throat, and Mike does his best to tamp it down. “I thought we were best friends, Will!”
(I thought I still mattered enough to you that you didn’t have to hide the truth from me , Mike thinks internally.)
Will scoffs derisively. “Best friends, Mike? Really? Because you haven’t been acting like it lately!” He steps forward into Mike’s space. “You think that just because you said we’d be a team again makes everything between us okay? All you’ve ever talked about ever since that is El and all your relationship problems! It’s like I’m only your best friend because it’s convenient to you!”
And shit, that stings, because it’s just not true. Mike tries to tell Will as much. “You know that isn’t true.”
Will isn’t having it, though. He angrily jabs Mike’s chest. “It isn’t true? Okay then, tell me what else we talked about during the trip. Tell me we had at least one moment where you and I had a proper conversation about anything else.” Mike remains silent. “See, you can’t even do that! In your head everything is okay with us, maybe you’re trying to tell yourself that, but it’s utter fucking bullshit, Mike!”
He’s now pacing back and forth dramatically, unable to stop himself from spilling out everything he’s been trying to keep together. “Did you even see me cry in the van after I gave you that painting? Did it not occur to you once to check on me about that, or at least ask me if I was okay?” Will yells. “Did you ever think about how much it hurt, what you said in your I-love-you speech to El? Huh? Do you ever even stop and think?”
Mike is taken aback and slightly insulted at Will’s last statement. “Why would what I say to El hurt you?” Will stops pacing, feet steeled to the ground as he angrily glares at Mike.
“Because you said your life started the day you found her in the woods! Do I matter so little to you that you think one of the darkest periods of my life is what brings you what you basically implied is your happiness? Your everything? ” A part of Will knows it’s unfair, that Mike probably didn’t mean it that way and just worded it really badly. But right now he’s too angry, too tired, feeling too much all at once that suddenly he doesn’t care.
“I didn’t mean what I said!” Mike argues. He’s tired, too. The rain surrounding them pours down even harder. “Everything I said to El…I didn’t mean it the way I wanted to!”
“So you lied to her, too?” Will yells again, incredulous. In the background, thunder rumbles. “For someone who hates lying so much, you seem to be so good at it! You’re an absolute hypocrite!” There’s a hint of a sob in his voice that Mike, deep down, wants to take away.
“Well, you lied to me first!”
“Why does it matter so much to you that I lied?”
“Because you are the one person who I trusted to never, ever lie to me!” Mike exclaims.
Will goes silent at that. It’s Mike’s turn now to spill everything out. “You are the one person who’s never made me feel like I was worthless enough to bullshit. It’s always been you, Will.” He’s on the verge of tears and his head and heart are both pounding so loud, but the damage has been done. Mike takes a step forward, just an arm’s length away from Will, who’s frozen in place, eyes wide.
“I’m sorry, okay? Words can’t even begin to explain how sorry I am for everything.” Another step forward. “Everything I said to El…it was wrong. I love her…but not in the romantic sense. It was never in the romantic sense. I only realized that now. What I feel or felt for her…it’s nothing compared to what I feel for you.” One more step, and before either of them know it they’re a breath away from each other, one face inches away from the other. “It’s only recently started to make sense to me, okay? There’s something about you…about us, that’s so different from everything else.”
But then Will pushes Mike back, confusion and skepticism still evident on his face. “Y-you can’t mean that, Mike. You can’t say things like that!” Another sob.
It’s not the reaction Mike was expecting. (But what was he really expecting?) “What do you mean, Will?” His voice is still loud enough to be heard through the pouring rain, but the intonation is the same soft, gentle voice that makes Will melt most of the time.
“You have no right to be confusing me like that. It-it’s not fair, Mike. You can’t do this to me!” There are tears streaming down Will’s face, and Mike aches to wipe them away with his own hands. “Not when-” and then he pauses, chewing on his lip, his last desperate attempt to keep the secret he’s resigned himself to take to his grave.
“Not when what, Will?” Mike prods, once again stepping closer. Will’s shaking his head. No. Now’s not the time. “Will, please…not when what?” The earnestness never leaves his voice despite the pleading, and it’s enough for Will to break.
He’s done putting up his mask. Done lying to Mike.
“Not when I’m so in love with you!” He cries out. It’s done. The secret was revealed. Will shuts his eyes, unwilling to see the expression on his best friend’s face. “Okay, Mike? I’m in love with you. But you can’t say that something’s different about us. You can’t say that you feel something for me that you can’t even name. You can’t say that you feel something for me, because I don’t think I deserve anything from you anymore. Please."
For a moment, there’s nothing but silence between them. Will thinks he hears Mike huff, but before he can decipher what that meant, large hands cup his face and lips press up against his own.
It’s not at all the first kiss that either of the two imagined would happen between them. It’s not what Will thought, no hesitancy and gentleness, no butterflies or sparks fluttering in their surroundings like how it goes in fairytales. It’s not what Mike thought, no unsure pecking and electricity and the feeling of fireworks in the pit of his stomach, like how he’s read in his mother’s romance novels.
No, this kiss started tentatively, then all at once increased in passion. It’s soft in the same way it’s intense. It’s a harsh winter melting into a bright, colorful spring. It’s relief from defeating the monsters in their D&D campaigns, it’s a thrill from all their science fair projects, it’s laughter from their inside jokes and sweetness from the candies and pastries they both love to eat and share. This kiss is the same as their private looks and smiles only reserved for the two of them, even when they believe nobody else is looking.
It’s a mutual understanding between them, just as their relationship had always been.
They kiss for a while, slowly but steady, firm but gentle, their fight immediately forgotten. When they pause to catch their breath, they lean their foreheads against each other. Mike’s hand is on his face, gently wiping the tears from Will’s eyes but occasionally mistaking some raindrops as tears that Will wants to laugh despite it all.
“The feeling I have for you…it’s love. I-I’m in love with you too, Will,” Mike finally says. They’re both crying continuously, and they probably look fucking ridiculous, but neither of them can seem to fully care.
“You’re in love with me, too?” Will echoes out of disbelief. Even if they’ve basically made out and they look like they’re in the climax of the romcoms that El enjoys, Will still thinks it’s too good to be true.
In response, Mike kisses each of his eyes, his nose, then his mouth. “I’m so in love with you. I think I always have been.” The rain begins to lighten, but it’s still so cold, and they don’t know who started it but suddenly they’re hugging each other tightly.
They stay like that for a few moments. “We should probably go home. You didn’t even bring a raincoat to protect yourself.” Mike says into Will’s shoulder, and suddenly they’re mostly normal again, acting the way they were before. Will rolls his eyes, but obliges and lets go. They begin to walk together, hands brushing occasionally until Mike gives in and intertwines them together.
“I’m sorry that I forgot to bring one thing because some idiot decided to run off into the rain in the dead of night,” Will says sassily.
“Some idiot just happens to be your idiot,” Mike argues playfully. “...right?” His voice is tiny and unsure.
Feeling brave, Will holds up Mike’s hand to kiss it. “Unfortunately.” The bright smile on Mike’s face is enough to make any doubt and embarrassment that Will felt in the moment automatically go away. They carry on walking in relative silence, basking in the moment; the aftermath of their fight, the relief.
They both know there’s a lot to talk about. Their insecurities, their fears for the future, what exactly they were going to do from there on out. But then they’re together, and they’re trading sneaky little kisses that ultimately slow them down on the way back home, and they’re holding hands so tightly as if afraid of losing each other (as they were), and right now everything is just better.
The rain surrounding them subsides into light drizzles. The calm after the storm.
(The rain may have faded, but the love between them never did. And both Mike and Will would make sure that it never, ever would.)