we really need some magic up here
fic link: there’s no getting over you
fandom: Stranger Things | ship: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler | characters: Will Byers, Mike Wheeler
rated: teen | tagged: romance, stylized prose, love confessions, vibes not plot | 5k
summary: Will spent years unable to say "I love you." Now he can't stop.
A collection of moments, large and small; a sincere and very indulgent lovebomb from Will to Mike.
Excerpt:
They’re on the couch now and Will is mid-hysterics explaining this and he turns to say:
“And it’s not like you’re in love with me.”
And surely the devil, a wicked fairy, or some impossible truth bubbles out of Mike because he replies: “It’s not?”
“Mike,” Will says.
“Will,” Mike says.
Mike blinks. His mind is made of bees. He’s been thinking: no more Dave, no more motherfucking Dave, which means more Will, which means so much more of Will’s time and attention, which means more movie nights and dinners and walks, and now Mike can take him on—
And the word that comes to mind is dates. Which is not best friend-ly. And as he’s looking at Will’s tear-streaked cheeks and red eyes, he thinks about how pretty he is and how lovely he is and how much kissing him right now would be so incredibly nice.
Mike blinks again. Yeah, some truths are absolutely becoming crystal clear in this rather opportune moment.
It’s a strange silence that stretches.
But Will has been trapped in this particular torture chamber for years. Mike may have arrived at the conclusion minutes ago, but Will has lived there. Will has a doctorate. Will has tenure. Will is a professional, an expert. Will is a goddamn decorated veteran of being hopelessly in love with his best friend.
And the only answer is flight.
Will says, “I’m going to bed.”
Mike grabs his hand.
Will says, “no–” but he doesn’t move. He’s looking down at Mike’s grip and back up at those big brown eyes. “No,” he says.
“What if–” Mike says.
“No,” Will says, sharp now.
Mike should stop but he smiles instead. Breathless, delirious, reckless. “What if–? What if I do love you?”
The shudder that tears through Will is obvious, sudden, and heartbreaking. “Don’t,” Will says, a fury in his tone. “You can’t do this. Not–” he gasps out. “Mike, don’t do this.”
“Do what?” Mike says. “Tell you I love you?”
Will shakes his head. “As a friend– your best friend.”
And it’s like a dam breaks. A thousand nonsense thoughts come crashing together, forming something undeniable. What felt wrong and foggy and confused, now feels startlingly clear and absurdly simple.
Mike opens his mouth. “But I am in love with you, Will,” he says. “And yes, you are and always will be my best friend. The most special, most precious, most important person in my life,” he says. “And I am,” and he presses his finger on Will’s chest, “in,” and he taps his finger gently, “love,” another tap, “with,” another tap, “you.”
“Don’t joke about this, don’t you dare,” Will says, pale and trembling. “I can’t—“
Oh
Mike’s eyes widen, understanding. The final piece clicks into place. “Will, are you in love with me?” And even though the answer is silence and the most furious look on Will’s face that Mike has ever seen, Mike smiles so wide, so big, just the most radiant joy. This is incredible landmark breaking news. The best thing. This is the greatest day of his life. “Will,” he says, softly, helplessly. “You’re in love with me?”
Will’s hands are fists and he makes a strangled noise. It’s all too much.
And Mike does the smartest, bravest, sweetest thing he can think of, though he does precede it with a warning. “So, I’m going to kiss you now–”
And he does–
* So this is the story of how Will said it for the first time:
“–now just because I’m in love with you, doesn’t mean you can just –” Will gasps out as a response to Mike’s very wet, very passionate, very delicious kiss, and Mike just shuts him up with another.
And, frankly, Mike's commitment to interrupting the ensuing conversation with kisses makes it difficult for history to keep accurate records.
* Or perhaps this is the story of how Will said it for the first time:
“–but you make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all, like she’s better for being different–”
* Or perhaps this is the story of how Will said it for the first time:
“—yeah,” Will says softly. “Crazy together.”
* Or perhaps this is the story of how Will said it for the first time:
The little boy in a striped shirt and soft black hair asks another lonely little boy if he wants to be friends. Will nods so fast and so hard that his entire body vibrates with excitement. Something inside of him answering yes, and that surge of joy echoing long after.
