Will Byers

anyway bc of it i hc that mike doesn't think hes good looking in any way at all and he learned to just simply try not to care.

i also hc that one day in mike and wills relationship, will calls mike pretty or something and mikes really confused like? huh? and will tries to prove it to him by pointing out all the features mike has that will loves (which is all of them) and mikes just like, "oh." because he doesnt really realize how much he appreciated it and needed to hear it.

Last weeks Will Byers wouldn't have left the house like this. Unshowered. Terribly dark circles under those tired hazel eyes. Worn clothes. Hair messy. He looks like a mess come alive. He is a mess. What does it matter? The job is done. It's time to get it over with. Among all those people, it's not important how disgusting he feels. There's surely someone ten times more disgusting than Will could ever be.

Out of the subway and on his way to deliver his finished work. His due is done. Finite.

Once there, he stands by the building's main door. The door isn't locked, so he goes inside. His stomach turns at the sight of the staircase that leads to his unfortunate destination. He climbs the stairs. Step by step. Until he's there.

At Mike's new home. The one he built a new life in. With no more room for Will Byers.

The door opens, and Will freezes. Eyes big. Gaze overwhelmed. Just his luck. Mike stares back. But there's a shift. Will watches Mike's lips part, but Will blurted his words out before Mike can say anything.

Your commission… for the novel… here. It's done. Cover and scenes…

Will holds out a big brown folder, his hand bruised and shaky.

The commission right. That seems like forever ago. The day Mike cried on Will, the likes of which had not been seen in two years, almost reminiscent of the days Mike lost Will. Will swore to him, they made an oath that was broken not even a day later. It had already been over before it began. Mike’s novel the promise weaved in faux gold, nothing but strings of yesterday. Of fantastical past present future out of touch with reality.

Mike reaches to take the big brown folder, fingers brushing against Will’s in an unconscious habit. They shake, twitch, wound. Mike stares into Will’s tired eyes with glazed vulnerability. Raw with bound emotion. Loose lips, wretched heart. Will.

No, there is nowhere Will needs to be. Because there's nothing left in his pathetic life. But, again. Mike doesn't care about that.

I don't know.

A statement, as clear as the vague shake of his head. Truth is. He wants to come inside. Never leave again. Yeah, that's not happening. So he's not going to, is he? Or maybe just a minute? There's something he has to do anyway?

Can I say goodbye to Lukey?

Luke is gone. He doesn’t live here anymore. Just me.

Why?

Why…why…I’m not safe, it’s not safe here for him. I’ll…hurt him….hurt myself…

Mike goes to look off to the side. His eyes narrow and he holds tight to the folder in hand. He was going somewhere. Where was he going? But Will is here and Luke is gone. His family…he has no family.

Why…I’m the devil that’s why. Yes?

You're an asshole. That's all.

Words detached from his own nature. He doesn't mean it yet, he feels it, and he wants Mike to feel it. Wants Mike to understand that the pity party is over. Addiction is one thing. Mental health is another. Digging your own grave is a whole different story. Don't cry if you drown. You knew you couldn't swim. Will wasted months blaming himself. It all shifts, aiming towards Mike. All the pain. Everything is Mike's fault. All of it.

Will huffs and presses his knuckles into Mike's chest. Hard. Mike doesn't wince.

Asshole...

Knuckles to his chest, frustration directed at Mike but he asked for it. Fury and sorrow in unequal harmony, Will finding an outlet, the right one for it’s been a treacherous week for both of them. A tragic road that leads all the way back to November 6th 1983. So Mike lets Wills anger wash over him, his sadness, and pain. Mike transfers the folder into one hand then grabs the fist on his chest. Red hot rage. He squeezes it then brings the hand to his cheek. Tension. Burning embers.

Four words. A verbal punch. Does it hurt Mike as much as it hurts Will? Is that even possible? Will knows he stands right in Mike's shoes, yet he can't fathom anyone would ever be able to feel this much pain. An aching soul. So if Mike feels it, too. Why would Will want to add physical pain? He shakes his head and drops his hand, his knuckles back at Mike's chest. He knows it doesn't hurt Mike. It still helps Will. Or it gives an illusion of helping. Nothing helps in reality.

His hand against Mike's chest. Knuckles dig into the skin beneath Mike's shirt. Tears pooling then falling. What is this? What is he even doing? Dragging out the last bits of contact, probably. Quit it.

His hand drops. No more contact. Gaze averted. He wants pain? Maybe that'll teach him a lesson.

A spark, you feel alive at viscera, spitting hate, wolves howl. And he could ruin it all. Mike could make it worse, could he callous. Could twist desire, hate disguised as love. He could hurt. Force two souls together when black tar has drowned them, shells of themselves, but the other won’t find filling. Cover up after cover up of the same crime. Why run in circles? Why play hide and seek? Is there a thrill? Is it fun? Or do they get off on suffering? Does God shun above? Does the devil laugh below? Mike scowls, expression contorted.

And yet you came all this way to give me my commission. If you didn’t care then you wouldn’t have wasted time on a shitty story.

Mike lifts a hand to press flat against Will’s chest over his heart.

If you didn’t care then your heart wouldn’t be beating as it is. The careless are vampires. Fuck you, Byers.

He shoots back in a beat. Will barely uses the F word in situations like this. Mike looks almost enthralled to receive it from Will with such a force. It's like Mike can't believe his own ears.

Go fuck yourself. Asshole.

It's like he doesn't take Will serious. Mike's eyes light up, Will's fill with fury, tears pouring out like cheap wine. The kind that numbs him so sweetly. The same kind that once brought all too many bad decisions upon him. May wine be the source of all evil? Joyce mentioned enjoying a good glass of wine once or twice when he was conceived. Yuck, thanks for the trauma, Mom. Will will never touch that devil's juice again. And Will will never touch Mike again. At last, he claims to be the devil. All evil and destructive.

I hate you. I hate you too. Fuck you. Fuck you too. You’re pathetic. Grow up. Grow a backbone. You’re a child. You’re an idiot. You’re a bitch. I wish I never met you. I wish I never fucked you. I wish I never loved you.

Mike hardly even flinches at the words spit at him, expecting them, wanting them. He isn’t even shocked or bothered at the shove. He shoved Will first, physically and emotionally. Quid pro quo. Pressure builds. Mike does groan though, bares his teeth like a dog, but not in rage. In a second he is on Will, grabbing Will and pushing him against the wall, getting up in his face, crowding him.

Gladly! That’s right I am an asshole, one that hates you. I hate you so much. I wish I never met you!

Yea, I know.

Words cold. Eyes a storm. How are we back here? Where are those words and feelings coming from? Pause. Rewind. This isn't right. This isn't who they are. They are angry. They are hurt. But this is violence. This isn't like either of them.

Will stands tall, stands still while fury fades to exhaustion. While the last care honestly seems to slip away.

Search and destroy. You broke so easily, a victim who is lost in pain, took on your abusers traits as defense. No longer yourself. Mike is just as evil as Clay. Violent, unpredictable, and callous. Is this who he’s become? Two years can’t save what fate has set in stone. Mike’s danger, warning signals, a big red flag. This is for the best. Will should’ve never come back. This city eats people. Kills the innocent. It’s a jungle out there. Will was better off outside it. He needs to escape. But If Mike’s love was known Will would be tethered to the curse. Only hate separates. Will must know for certain Mike is gone to be free. Exhausted but your head keeps up, moving on.

A word of advice Mike wishes he could give the young version of himself and of Will is to not fall in love with your best friend. Fall in love with anyone else but the soul that completes you. Nothing good will come of it. Lies. Mike’s a liar. He’d want a do over more than anything but it’s too late for that now. All that’s left is to severe all ties, wade in the darkness alone. Mike shoves Will one last time then let’s go, expression going blank. Nothing there. He steps far back, broken heart shattering all over again. Stand up, Will. Get away.

Bound and broken, he straightens up once again. Sore from the last shove (the last days) he finally has enough. Will pushes past Mike, down the stairway. Halfway, he stops to turn around and look back.

I'm tired of myself too, Mike... I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough to get rid of myself. I tried.

Third time’s a charm, right?

What is this feeling…no he knows what it is. Pain. Ow. Ow! His face has turned to stone but his eyes beg to cry out, be an outlet for pain. He’s ruined the man he loves. He did this. Now Will aches for death, not life. He’s faced death many times. He’s supposed to live. Be free. Why can’t Will go free? Tainted by the black sludge that is Mike. Oh God.

What…? What are…what are you talking about? I don’t…understand.

Will clings to Mike; he wails, he cries, voice echoing louder and louder with each sob. Mike, for once, doesn't shove. He clings back. Holds Will tight, like it would fix something. Like he could squeeze the darkness right out of Will's system. Not how it works, sweetheart. There is no cure for darkness. All that helps is light. A fire at last. A massive explosion at best. Light in the darkness nevertheless. Will used to be Mike's light. Mike used to be Will's. Now they're drowning in the dark void. Together. All alone.

There are so many things he can’t take back, lost to the fire, burning cold in a void. But what he can do is hold Will together, for he’s the one who broke him. He can fix him right? He can fix them right? Will can be clean again, can be a beacon of light again. The curse can’t last forever. That’s such a long time to wallow in agony. Mike wants it all to stop. Wants to take the pain he’s caused away from the one he loves. Suck it out like snake venom, take the poison into himself just so Will doesn’t have to carry it no more. Suffer to live.

Mike’s natural care for Will breaks the numb fugue, brings him back to Earth alert and concerned. Guilty. He is guilty. Clinging to Will like that will solve anything. And now he’s scared as he feels Will slip through his fingers. A heavy weight, a heavy heart, calling out the man’s name to hear no response.

His fingers comb through hair of disarray, Will’s eyes fluttering behind his lids, sound of a faint hum. He’s still alive. Not that Mike believed him dead, yet what a painful thing to stew in regret while half your soul floats in an abyss.

Will…sweetheart…

Mike’s hand slides down to cup Will’s cheek. His other hand takes one of Will’s, bringing the limb up to plant a tender kiss in the center of the palm. Mike nuzzles his nose into the skin. He knows a perfect kiss can’t save Will but he tries regardless. Another kiss soon follows.

I’m so sorry…Will…baby I’m sorry.

Will screams internally. It's torture now. This isn't a dream. It's real. It's raw. Mike loves Will. Just open your eyes. Kiss him. It's that easy. Don't move. Don't ruin it. Is he even pretending when he's too exhausted to bat a lash? Mike doesn't know Will can hear him. Doesn't know he can feel his lips on his skin. He doesn't know how wild Will's little heart flutters in his chest. Mike has no idea how violently the same heart is breaking. Mike loves Will. Will loves Mike. And they can't be together. Forced apart by fate. By a higher force. They love each other. Die without each other. Can't be with each other.

Will what’s wrong? Are you hurting? Please open your eyes…please talk to me. Let me help you…I want to help. Tell me how to help you…how to fix this.

Will does not answer. He looks around the room. Feeling lost. He's not supposed to be here. This is not real.

I... I have to go...

Mike in tune with Will, or more so emotionally, feels himself slipping as well. They need ground. They need to be grounded. Can’t run, can’t live. Breathe, search a focal point. Mike wraps his arms around Will, heartbeat a drum, and holds the man close a hand coming up to web in dark locks, cradling love. He turns his head to press his mouth to an ear.

Stay. Stay with me Will. I want you here. I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I love you, Will. I love you. Please, I can make it better…let me make it better. I’ll take the pain away…if you let me. Baby please…don’t go.

Will gives Mike another push. Lighter this time. Not really to get him off of him. More so to catch his gaze. The eyes are the window to a man's soul. Mike's soul is bruised and broken, but still full of love. Unspoken and unshared. Kept locked inside for too long. Will's eyes might as well hold a mirror. Same display. Same love. Locked inside, key thrown aside. Spellbound. He can't believe it. Not until he says it to Will's face. Will has to see the love flicker in Mike's brown eyes.

Again... say it again... please.

This love is good, this love is bad, this love came back from the dead. Zombie and vampire. They may have been beaten down by demons but that love can’t be extinguished, harbored by pain, yet a shell of protection to keep longevity. Pick up the pieces and put us back together again, tarnished but complete.

Mike goes to cup Will’s jaw shifting closer so that only an inch of space remains between them, breathing as one. An uncharted vulnerability glazes Mike’s eyes, his stare a soul cavern, free for a second from the week of pain, clean, washed away by hazel love. His voice is soft, full of devotion, once he finds it again.

Mike... I love you, Mike.

Mike is back in love, falling without hesitation into what no saint nor sinner can truly chase. His nose brushes Will’s, then nuzzles his cheek, kissing the skin, kissing the mole above Will’s top lip, kissing his nose, kissing his mouth once more. For a second his lips glide to a sensitive neck, pressing lips, having a nibble, but then Mike just lets himself sink into Will’s chest, ear placed above a steady beating heart, arms wrapped around a torso. Alive, and all Mike’s. He wouldn’t say he’s completely at rest but honestly he does feel great relief, lighter than he has felt in a long long time. No itch. No burden. No care.

Prove it, prove you would do anything for me... With me.

Mike slowly sits up and looks down at Will with an open expression, wordless communication done with a tilt of his head. Will is unwavering, urgent, ready for anything. He nods and Mike smiles small.

Okay. Wait here. I’ll be back…

He climbs off Will careful, gets up on wobbly legs and darts off down the hall and into the bathroom. Bambi. He removes a loose brick from the shower wall to retrieve his gift to Will, not the usual tokens but something a bit more special, more fitting for the occasion. What Mike sells but no matter, he’ll just pay the difference out his own pocket. Will deserves the best.

When Mike returns to the living room Will is sat up on the couch. Waiting patient. Mike goes to stand before the man and holds up the foil like prized treasure for Will to take in. Like a puppy, Mike is eager to please, fetching a treat for his owner.

The way he says it sounds disapproving. Judgemental. However, there is a certain glint in his eyes. The faintest twitch in the corner of his lips. He's intrigued, clearly so. The quick bite on his lip. The fact has not made a snarky comment. He's intrigued. Hesitant he reaches out, fingertips jolting with electricity when he touches the foil. Mike goes ahead and pushes it into Will's hand. Will's eyes keep scanning, switching between what he was handed and the very pretty gift maker. Mike doesn't know. Will has consumed before. He still isn't a fan. Life just changed. He changed. He lived against most of his principles already.

What are we going to do with it? Or is this your way of discarding me? The little faggy boy, piped up and used in the nearest dumpster?

Will gives a small chuckle, but his lightness drops the second he sees the frown on Mike's face.

Mike huffs and raises his eyebrows before shaking his head, turning the frown upside down. At least Will seems to be in better spirits. This is what he wants, the glint in his eyes and twitch of lips more than telling. Nevermind the slight hiccup. Mike’s not worried. This will calm Will, lift the weight off his shoulders. They’re not addicts. Natural remedies do wonders and this lady H comes from a plant. Mike sits back down beside Will, throwing an arm on the couch cushion behind Will and leaning back.

You said anything, don’t chicken out now.

Will turns to Mike and scrunches his nose up cutely. Mike reaches out and playfully nudges it. They share a laugh.

Mike doesn't have to convince Will. That alone should tell Mike that Will has done something like this before.

Just once. And you have to swear to never put any illegal drug into your system again. I'm the only drug you're allowed to get high on... after this.

Will watches Mike nod. He sends the foil flying into Mike's lap with a gentle flick of his fingers. Then he grabs Mike's neck. Takes a hold of his nape and draws him in for a quick kiss. A seal to a promise made. He will break Mike's neck with the same hand if he lies.

Will as his drug. High on Will. Mike likes the sound of that. He needs no more conviction than that to dive deep into a high with Will. Mike’s stomach does a little flip, his heart stuttering. Even though Will draws back, Mike pulls him back in, licking inside his lovers mouth, newfound excitement. Will grasps onto the front of Mike’s neck and shoves him off, no intent to harm, but the message has been received. Mike laughs under his breath. It’s like he’s already high.

The foil in his lap is picked up and set in Mike’s flat palm. With his other hand he unfolds it like a letter to reveal a pile of white powder. Oh yes, this one’s the two for one deal. Mike hasn’t sniffed this since forever, quickly influenced to try the needle which Mike is inclined to believe is the root of his prior addiction. Once you go for injection there’s really no going back. It’s already over. There’s nothing like it. Mike will never do that to Will or put him through that again. Familiar, muscle memory, Mike divides the powder with his finger into two. One half for him, the other for Will. He holds the foil towards his love. An offer of a fine delicacy.

Careful baby…don’t sniff too fast, do it nice and slow.

Am I high yet?

Silly. Mike snorts at the question. Will does the same. The pains and aches he's been ignoring all week, suddenly not relevant. Not even the gut-wrenching pain from his backside matters now. Astounded, he decided to share the news.

I can't feel my bum. It's gone.

Hey…tell me if you can feel this…

Mike scoots closer, glueing the two together. He turns on his side, partially blanketing Will, and buries his face in the alcove of his neck. He blows raspberries drawing a giggle out of Will. Then Mike latches on to the smooth delicate skin, mouthing at the area slow and soft. He takes a nibble or two, sucks on the neck like a man dying of thirst. Mike hums, a hand trailing down, caressing Will’s chest, ribs, then settling along his lower stomach. Drool pools from the corner of his lips, and Will’s neck is coated in saliva.

Let me take care of you…I’ll make you happy…wanna make you happy Will…

Mike... w-wait...

Drugs are weird. Horrible pictures flash before Will's eyes, and still, he can't help but feel his body crave what Mike has to offer. No. He's gentle when he detaches Mike. Eyes heavy hooded thanks to Mike.

Slow down... I can't sleep with you...

You don’t have to sleep with me…I just want to make you feel good…I love you.

Mike drops his head on the back of the couch and surrenders to the power that is Will, eyes fluttering and mouth parted, saliva filing it in an uncontrollable fashion. A bit excessive. He hasn’t been this aroused in two years, sex drive on the back burner. Until he saw Will at the kaleidoscope, that was when Mike began to return to himself, feel life’s simple pleasures again. Will makes him whole. Complete. And ready for love, to be loved, to want love, and give love in return.

There's another squeeze. It's more unpleasant than pleasant now. Mike doesn't know it. Mike doesn't know Will is bruised. Wounded. Will lets another squeak pass, even closer to a whine.

Ouchie~ Don't touch there, I've been bleeding a lot, and it's sore, y'know.

And there it is, slight discomfort. What Will said rubbing him the wrong way the more he turns the words over in his head. Mike shifts in place, maneuvering like a rag doll to stare into dazed Hazel eyes. They cloud over but still Mike can catch a hint of a crack. His eyebrows knit together and draw up. Mike can’t help it, he draws close, squeezes Will’s waist with one arm, lips brushing against Will’s as he speaks.

Bleeding? What…what do you mean by that? Is it… that time of the month?

Silly, I'm not menstruating.

He pecks Mike on the lips. Continuing.

I was attacked.

Way too casual. Will giggles. He picks Mike again. Continuing.

And then I killed him.

Will is a survivor. He’s done what he has done to survive. Mike can’t shun him for that, shame him, judge him, oust him. Mike’s not innocent either, he’s done the same thing except he couldn’t finish the job. If Mike got a do over he’d go for the heart. Will’s will to live is admirable. Whoever dared to hurt Will got what they deserved. People are cruel, the whole lot of them. Why ridicule someone who’s seen the ugly blacked core? Mike would kill that animal too. Kill to keep Will safe, protect his love. Woah…that’s as dark a thought as any.

Life and death. Something above their might. Somehow still just a concept. Will was declared dead once. Mike knew better. Connected through life. Until death. Will is a survivor. Mike is, too. Good to know where someone's priorities lie. Good to know, someone doesn't dig out when it gets sticky. Good to know Mike stays steady even when Will reveals the darkness he possesses.