Chapter Text
The wooden stairs leading up to the old apartment above Hawkins Video were old and worn from decades of footsteps. Every creak under Mike's sneakers sounded like a warning.
It was a brutally warm summer day, too warm, the kind where the air hung thick and humid, pressing down on everything. The sun beat relentlessly on the back of his neck as he hauled more boxes up and down the stairs.
Mike carefully walked up the stairs to the apartment. He was carrying a cardboard box labelled 'Will - Art Supplies', a very important box if Will was going to survive two minutes inside their new apartment.
Whilst Mike was busy maintaining his grip on this last cardboard box they had to carry up to their apartment, he could hear Will following right behind him with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
The constant motion of going up and down these stairs whilst carrying things, along with the added heat, had clearly affected Will much more than it has Mike.
Okay, sure, Mike was severely sweating, but Will was also out of breath and clearly fighting with his legs to keep going. It sounded like he may as well be having a war with the stairs and the duffel bag on his shoulder.
It's always been this way, though, since they were kids, it was obvious that Mike was the stronger and more athletic one of the two, which is saying a lot considering Mike only really increased his stats in that category when he started presenting.
Mike's reminiscing on when the two of them were younger led to him thinking about how this is truly the first time since they were kids that they have spent an extended amount of time together alone.
They always had someone interrupting them, whether it be overprotective parents, annoying siblings, or just the party being irritating.
Mike should feel excited about this, and he did, I mean, why would he choose to share a dorm with Will in college if he couldn't even hack staying with him over summer, let alone when his head is deep in his studies.
But he was worried, definitely, since the two of them had presented, everything seemed to have changed, and nothing was the same anymore. It's like every little touch or movement Will does sends a shock of electricity up Mike's spine.
Will has barely even spoken to him and not touched him at all, but Mike's prime senses were already spiking up, leading to him being hyper-aware of Will's scent coming up from behind him.
His natural omega scent made Mike think of a lot of things he shouldn't think about. Its perfect mix of sweet honey and soft vanilla that instantly affected Mike as soon as he smelled it, and it’s definitely taking a toll on him now.
It's literally just moving day. All you two are doing is moving in and carrying all the boxes up and down the stairs. Keep it together, Mike.
Mike's internal dialogue kept rolling until the pair reached the tiny landing in front of their apartment at the top of the stairs.
Mike grabbed the keys out of his pocket using his free hand and fumbled with them until he managed to unlock the door to their tiny space.
Their apartment has two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a tiny kitchen-living room combo. It's barely big enough to accommodate both of them.
Once both of the boys walked into the apartment, Mike passed the final box of supplies to Will as he locked the door behind them both.
Will then walked over to the kitchen counter and set the box down before taking his hoodie off. Now the boy was just in an old faded T-shirt and his trousers.
Will didn't even decide to have a break after they had transferred all the boxes up to their apartment; he straight away started unpacking the first box he saw, which seemed to be filled with mismatched plates and mugs.
He grabbed a stack of ceramic plates from the box and bent over to slide them into the lower cabinet, causing his shirt to ride up slightly and expose his lower back.
Mike, who was standing a few feet away sorting through a cardboard box of silverware, suddenly got hit with a full, unobstructed wave of Will's scent.
Will's scent smelled like warm, sweet honey layered over soft vanilla, but right now it was heavily intensified due to exertion and how close in proximity he was to Mike. It hit Mike like a brick wall.
Will's scent caused Mike's prime pheromones to surge involuntarily in response to the sweet omega scent. The dark pine and sharp smoke notes of his scent flooded the kitchen instantly, similarly to a wildfire in a forest.
Mike gripped the edge of the kitchen counter so hard that the wood groaned and creaked under his fingers, sounding like it would give way and break if Mike exerted any more force. His knuckles turned white from how hard he was gripping it.
His pulse thudded loudly in his ears as the pace of his heart quickened, his vision narrowed slightly at the edges, purely focusing on Will and Will alone.
Will straightened up at the smell of Mike's scent straight away as he turned towards Mike with more plates in his delicate hands.
"Mike? Are you okay?" he questioned, worried by the look on Mike's face as well as how his scent had intensified. "You look intense, almost like you're about to punch something."
When Will turned around to him, Mike noticed that his face was flushed from the exercise of going up and down the stairs, as well as the unpacking and putting things away. His hair was also slightly damp, as were his temples, likely from the sweat collecting on his forehead.
Mike forced a neutral expression before he answered him. "I'm fine, it's just hot in here," he answers, his voice coming out rougher than he had intended it to.
Suddenly, Mike accidentally drops the fork that he was holding. It landed with a loud clatter that made both of them jump and break the intense eye contact that they had been holding.
"I need to go shower," Mike muttered, a simple excuse, before he fled the scene and made his way to the bathroom, quickly opening the wooden door.
He slammed the bathroom door shut, the noise sending vibrations through the tiles on the wall, before he headed straight into the shower and twisted the cold shower knob to the max.
He didn’t even take his clothes off; he just stood under the cold, icy spray, fully clothed, for several minutes, desperately trying to reset and calm down after getting worked up over such a normal encounter between him and his best friend.
After standing in the cold shower for almost thirty minutes, Mike finally decided to step out onto the bathroom floor.
He peels off his wet shirt and stands in front of their mirror, above their sink. He stared at himself in the reflection, noticing that his pupils were still dilated and his jaw was clenched so tight that the muscles within it twitched.
It's Will, your best friend. Not your mate and not prey either.
Not your mate and not prey either.
Not your mate and not prey either.
Get a fucking grip.
Mike continued repeating this internal dialogue for a few minutes before grabbing the soft towel on the towel rack next to him. Once he grabbed the towel, he dried his body roughly before rubbing the towel over his hair to ensure it's not soaking wet, and just damp instead.
He grabbed a fresh T-shirt from one of the boxes in the bathroom as well as a pair of sweats to get changed into. He doesn't know how a box of his clothes ended up in the bathroom; he's guessing Will, or he must have misplaced it, but it must have been a blessing.
Once Mike had finished getting changed, he slowly emerged from the bathroom, gently shutting the door behind him. As he walked towards his bedroom, he attempted to avoid his gaze into the kitchen, but it didn't really matter.
Mike's gaze was quickly met with Will, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the living room, sorting through his colored pencils, making sure they were ordered by color.
He must have finished unpacking in the kitchen.
Mike temporarily froze when he saw Will sitting in front of him. He wasn't expecting him to be done with all the kitchen equipment and cutlery so fast.
Will looked up at Mike and then back down at his pencils, as he continued to color-code them. He didn’t comment on Mike's extended absence, and Mike doesn't know whether that left him feeling better or worse.
Mike quickly turned towards his bedroom door and decided that he was going to call it a night and go to sleep, or at least try to after what went down today.
He quietly shut his bedroom door behind him before flopping down onto his single bed. It's very small and only just about accommodates Mike's height, but it will do.
Mike doesn't know how he is going to survive living in this apartment with Will.
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Will's alarm on his phone started to buzz at 8:30. As the sound of his alarm reached his ears, he lazily reached over and attempted to find his phone while his eyes were still shut.
Eventually, after feeling around for what felt like forever, Will found his phone and grabbed it before turning off his alarm. He slowly sits up out of bed and opens his eyes, the morning sunlight greeting him through the curtains straight away.
He slowly started to come around, extremely groggy from staying up late last night to sort through all his art supplies, as well as just how hectic yesterday was in general.
Will steps out of bed, flinging the covers off himself, and grabs the old, faded T-shirt that he wore yesterday to put on. He opened his bedroom door and walked out in just the T-shirt and his boxers.
He shuffled towards the kitchen, making his way towards the counter that had their new, small toaster oven. It looked really high quality and expensive, I guess we can thank Mike's dad for that, Will thinks.
Will grabbed a slice of bread from the loaf on the side and inserted it into the toaster oven, aiming to make jam on toast for his breakfast this morning. As the bread started to toast, Will hummed under his breath, patiently waiting for it to be done.
Unknowingly to Will, Mike entered their kitchen unit from behind him. He was still coming around from the small amount of sleep he managed to get, his hair messy from tossing and turning in bed all night.
Mike decided that he definitely needed some coffee after the tragedy of sleep he experienced last night, so he reached past Will to grab one of the mugs that had been left out on the side, but, as he did this, his forearm brushes up against Will's, who was holding a jar of jam.
The accidental brush of contact only lasted for a second, maybe even half a second, but it sent electrical jolts up Mike and clearly startled Will. Mike's pupils had blown wide instantly, his body reacting to the touch against the omega.
All of a sudden, as Will turned, startled from Mike's present, his toast had finished in the toaster oven, and a loud pop echoed through the kitchen, causing Will to jump. The shock caused Will to drop the jam jar, and a loud crash was now heard after the pop.
As the jar crashed to the ground, it shattered, sending pieces of glass and clumps of jam across the kitchen tile floor. They both stared down in shock, neither fully certain of what had happened.
"Shit- I'm sorry! I didn't mean-" Will began to speak, but Mike cut him off quickly.
"It's my fault. I startled you, I'll clean it up," he said gently as he backed away from the scene, trying carefully not to sound mad at Will because he truly wasn't; he didn't mean to scare Will like that, it was his fault.
"Okay, still I'm sorry," Will mumbled quietly before he pushed himself off the counter and bolted to his room. He abandoned his toast in the kitchen, and before Mike could say anything, he heard Will's bedroom door slam shut.
"I'm such an idiot," Mike whispered under his breath as he grabbed the dust pan and brush to attempt to start clearing up the mess on the kitchen floor.
Time passed quickly for both boys. Mike finished cleaning up the glass and jam and quickly got ready. Before he realized it, the time was already 9:40, and they had to leave soon, otherwise they weren't going to beat the crowd of people at the lake.
By 9:45, they were both heading down the stairs to the parking lot, looking out for Mike's red Civic. Once they had spotted it, they slowly started to get in. As Will slotted himself into the passenger seat and shut the car door, he felt the warmth of the morning sun against his face, shining brightly through the car windows.
As Mike started up the car's engine, Will continued to stare out the window, appreciating the sun. Mike wished he could sit here and actually feel calm instead of pretending.
The confined space amplifies everything Mike has been avoiding. Will's morning scent quickly floods the car, sleepy honey with notes of faint soap. It instantly mixed with Mike's pine and smoke notes that are filled with tension.
As Mike pulled out of the parking lot, he gripped the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were yet again a pale white color. For the majority of the ride to the lake, his jaw was clenched so tight that his teeth ached.
He's your best friend, not your mate.
He's your best friend, not your mate.
He's your best friend, not your mate.
Mike continued to repeat yet again another mantra in his mind before his train of thought was interrupted by Will speaking beside him.
"Mike?"
"Yeah?" Mike answered, taken by surprise.
Will bent down slightly to fiddle with the car radio, oblivious to the tension in the car, or at least pretending to be. "Do you think anyone will have noticed we moved in together yet? Like the fact that our scents are all over one another?" he asked, continuing to flick through radio stations.
The fact that Will could so obliviously ask a question like that, in that manner, made Mike's face turn a deep shade of red, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened even more.
Once Mike had processed Will's initial question, he shrugged his shoulders and responded. "I don't know, maybe I guess," he answered in a monotone voice.
Mike took another turn on the road, and then they found themselves pulling into the lakeside parking lot. He parked his Civic and then killed the engine.
The two boys sit in silence for a minute or two. Mike does so to gather his composure and prepare for the day ahead, unsure of what it might bring between the two of them.
After what felt like forever, they both finally stepped out of the car and began to walk down the path to the part of the lake where people swim.
As they walk down the path, they notice the morning crowd of Hawkins locals gathered in various areas. Some of the people are setting up towels to sunbathe, whilst others are at a nearby stand grabbing ice cream to help combat the heat of the morning.
Will walked a couple of steps ahead, carrying a faint glow about him, whilst Mike trailed behind, keeping watch of all the familiar faces that were surrounding them. The majority of these faces were those of people he disliked, asshole jocks that he and Will went to school with, causing Mike to be on guard, feeling protective of Will.
But other than that, most of his mind was centered around Will and the beautiful glow of his face, the perfect mix of honey and vanilla within his scent, the way his brown hair curled at his temples; everything about him was just so, so, so perfect to Mike.
Mike quickly snapped back to reality when he heard the faint yet close whisper of a group of alphas nearby. As he looked over to them, he saw all four of them eyeing up Will with a predatory gaze, setting alarm bells off in Mike's head.
Before he even realized it, a low, unconscious growl escaped Mike from deep within his chest, a warning to the alphas nearby that Will is not up for grabs and that they should definitely not be looking at him like that.
The sound carried down the path, and by the edge of the bank by the lake, a few people sitting on said bank shifted uncomfortably, unsettled by the growl that came from Mike's chest.
Will suddenly stopped in his tracks before glancing back at Mike, "What was that?" he asked, voice soft with concern, wondering if something was wrong.
Mike made eye contact with Will, and it's almost like he forgot how to speak; it takes a few seconds before he is able to say anything. "Nothing, it's just... crowded," he assured, after clearing his throat.
"If you say so," Will hesitated before turning forward again and continuing his descent down the path. Mike quickly followed while he cussed himself out inside his head.
Shortly later, they got to the end of the path before Will spoke up, "I'm going to go find a good spot for us to set up," he started. "Would you be okay to go get us some drinks from one of the stands?"
Mike looked up before replying to the boy in front of him. "Yeah, that's fine."
"Thank you," the shorter boy giggled, before walking off to find a nice patch of grass for them to sit on.
Mike stood still for a moment before turning in the opposite direction to obtain drinks for the pair, just like Will had asked him to.
It's not long that they're apart, it's only brief, but Mike felt it straight away. It's like the proximity of the apartment had made him need Will around him, despite the tension that sometimes settles in the air.
Hell, there's not even much distance between the two of them, if Will needed him, Mike knew he could’ve been there in seconds. But it still feels scary, like Will is unguarded and vulnerable.
Mike attempted to push the thoughts aside and headed down the other path towards the stands, keeping an eye out for one that serves drinks.
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The day passed quickly, time flashing by in front of both the boy's eyes, and before they knew it, they were already enduring the drive back to their apartment, both tired from the long day at the lake.
They didn't go swimming today; they mutually agreed that they would both be too tired to do such activities, but the heat still exhausted them.
Mike did enjoy today, even if moments were awkward, but he mainly enjoyed it because he saw that Will did. Will has always thrived in the sun, in the warmth, and now that it was finally summer, he was able to be his true self again, or at least that's what it looked like to Mike.
He just had this certain glow about him in the sun, like he radiated the beams back and warmed up everyone around him. It's as if Will was made to just bathe in sunlight all day, and Mike didn't mind watching; he looked perfect.
The drive back was mostly comfortable; they were both too tired to talk, Will was too tired to think, and he just sat there staring out the window for the majority of the ride.
However, there was still an edge to it, like they both knew something was up. Maybe it was the incident this morning, or maybe the way Mike had growled at a group of alphas just looking at Will. But it felt like they both knew something had shifted today.
They were back home before either of them realized. They walked up the wooden stairs in union, both ready to relax for the evening and let themselves go.
As soon as Mike unlocked the apartment, Will walked in and immediately flopped onto their second-hand couch with a dramatic sigh, like today really did take it out of him.
He lay there in silence for a minute or two while Mike locked up the apartment and took off his shoes, before Will decided to speak up. "You know, this already feels like home," he starts. "It's like we're finally safe, nothing to do with the upside down, no parents hovering, not even siblings to bother us. It's just us," he finished as he took a deep inhale.
Will's voice was soft and content. His scent became even more relaxed than it was earlier; it became warmer, more settled, filling the apartment with a calming feel, which instantly hit Mike.
Mike stood frozen in the doorway, his chest tight with something he refuses to name, whether that be for himself or for Will. "Yeah, safe," he mumbled before he started up again. "I'm gonna go to bed, it's been a long day."
Will lifted his head, and his eyes followed Mike's. "Okay, goodnight, Mike," he answered sweetly. Mike takes one more look at Will before walking off to his bedroom, ready to at least attempt to relax.
As soon as Mike arrived at his room, he shut the door carefully behind him before leaning against it for a very long moment. Then, it's like something snaps.
He turned around and started punching the doorframe hard. He repeatedly attacked it with controlled strikes, letting his anger out. He continued his strikes until the wood splintered and he felt his knuckles open, blood dripping down them and tainting the exposed wood.
He stepped away until his back hit the wall before sliding down to the floor, staring at the split wood and then at his bloodied knuckles.
Mike started to whisper a promise to himself in his empty room.
You cannot ruin him, you will NOT ruin him.
You cannot ruin him, you will NOT ruin him.
You cannot ruin him, you will NOT ruin him.
He continued to repeat it until he tricked himself into believing it.
Mike's scent lingered in the air thick and heavy, his usual pine-smoke mixed with guilt and the faint traces of the serenity from Will's honey-vanilla notes that had traveled under his door and lingered on his clothes.
As Mike sat on the floor with his back leaning against the wall, he heard a faint noise through the wall. He pressed his ear to it and heard Will softly humming and faint flicks of paper.
He knows Will, those flicks of paper are more than likely one of his sketch books. Drawing is Will's way of relaxing or de-escalating after a tiring day. He lets his mind wander about what Will might be drawing, thinking about all the masterpieces Will has drawn and painted.
Mike let his mind drift and pretended that the tension in the apartment wasn't already suffocating.