Archive of Our Own

Will Byers is sitting in the backseat of his father’s car, his head leaned against the headrest, trying to read a book. Sitting beside him is his sister, Jane, bouncing in her seat to the beat of the song playing from the radio—some new song by the Ronettes. She’s got this pink hand mirror held up in front of her, and she’s been combing her bangs for a frankly ridiculous amount of time. 

Will’s mother, Joyce, sits in the passenger seat, gazing out of the window, while his father, Jim, drives down the road. 

It’s a hot summer day, and Will enjoys the slight breeze that comes in through the open window and ruffles his hair. He lifts his head when his mother points a finger out her window: “Look!” 

They’re passing a sign shrouded in trees that says Kellerman’s Mountain House . 

Roger Kellerman is the owner of the resort they’ll be staying at and an old patient of Will’s father. Will’s only met the guy once, but Kellerman has offered Will’s family a month-long stay in one of the cabins for free. Kellerman will boast about Will’s dad to anyone, proclaiming that he wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Dr. Jim Byers. This is why the Byers are the guests of honor this summer. 

Will is content enough to spend the rest of his summer in the Catskills, though he’s eager for the fall, when he’ll start his college classes and his work in the peace corps. 

Jim pulls the car up in front of the main house of the resort, and Will tucks his book away before he steps out of the car. He stretches his arms above his head as he takes in the scene around him. A vast lawn stretches past the road and butts up against a shimmering lake. There’s people everywhere—playing lawn games and learning how to paint a landscape. 

Will hears as Jane gets out of the car and immediately starts chattering to their mother about something completely unimportant. 

A balding man in a suit approaches their family, accompanied by a much younger man with curly hair and a baseball cap. Will vaguely recognizes the man as Roger Kellerman, and he’s proven to be right when he walks up to Jim and shakes his hand. 

“Doc!” He calls cheerfully, and Will’s dad smiles at him. “After all these years, I finally got you up on my mountain.” 

Will’s mom answers, “And we are so grateful for the invitation. This is a really lovely resort.” 

Kellerman looks pleased, and he directs his gaze at Will and Jane. “You know, kids, if it weren’t for your father, I wouldn’t be standing here alive today.” Will holds in a giggle, Kellerman saying exactly what Will knew he would say. 

Kellerman turns to the boy next to him with a pointed look. “Dustin, get the bags.” 

The boy, Dustin, who had just been standing there, grinning at the group immediately snaps to attention. “Yes, sir!” 

Will follows him to the boot of the car, helping him remove the bags. Dustin, still cheerful, directs his grin to Will. “Hey, thanks man! You want a job?” 

Will laughs as he helps Dustin load the bags onto a cart. He can hear Kellerman bragging that he reserved the best cabin for their family. He hears him mention something about a merengue class, and Jane perks up. 

By the time evening falls, Will has already had enough of his sister. She had dragged them all to the merengue class, and Will had his toes stepped on for an hour and was forced to partner up with a tiny old woman. He was relieved when they got back to the cabin and Jane closed herself into the bedroom to get ready for dinner. 

Will knows he’s also going to have to make it through dinner with his family, so he slips out of the cabin and calls to his parents that he’s going to explore around the main house in the meantime. 

He makes his way down the stone path from their cabin to the main house, admiring the dusky yellow of the sky and the chill of the evening air. The main house is a long brick building framed by the deep green of the forest behind it. 

Will finds himself walking along the balcony on the second level, just looking out over the lawn, now completely empty and peaceful. He’s not sure exactly which part of the building he’s in, but he hears Kellerman’s voice floating through a set of open double doors just ahead. He can’t help himself when he peeks through the doors. 

Kellerman is talking to a group of young waiters in what looks like the dining room. “Why did I hire you all? I shouldn’t have to remind you. This is a family place. You’re here to show the goddamn daughters a good time. Even the dogs.” 

Will wrinkles his nose at the choice of words but listens on. 

Kellerman’s still in the middle of his lecture when another group of men enter the room from the other side, led by a young man wearing sunglasses and carrying a leather jacket. 

“Hey, hold it!” Kellerman shouts at the group, and the leader turns to face him, looking unimpressed. “Well, if it isn’t the entertainment staff. Listen, wise ass, you’ve got your own set of rules. Dance with the daughters, teach them how to mambo and cha-cha and whatever else they pay for. But that’s where it ends. No funny business, no conversations, and keep your hands off!” 

Will blinks, a little startled by Kellerman’s intensity, but the guy in the sunglasses looks unbothered. 

Will takes a moment to really look at him. He’s tall and lean, and Will can see that his t-shirt is snug over his muscular frame. His hair is somewhat long and dark, creeping just past his ears and pushed back and away from his face, and slightly curly. 

He’s—handsome, in a word. 

Will knows he should be ashamed of the way he’s watching this man move through the room, but he really can’t find it in himself when no one even knows he’s there. 

It’s his best kept secret—his queerness. He hasn’t told a single person that he’s gay, but he thinks sometimes his family might be suspicious, though they’ve never brought it up. It’s 1963, and homosexuality is definitely not a topic for discussion at the dinner table. 

Kellerman walks away from the group of what Will presumes are dancers, from the conversation, and the handsome man in the sunglasses looks as if he’s going to walk away too when a waiter pipes up from where he’s arranging silverware on a table. 

“Can you keep that straight, Mike? What you can and can’t touch?” 

Mike. His name is Mike. 

Mike shakes his head just slightly and walks up to the waiter. He speaks for the first time since entering the room. “Just put your pickle on everybody’s plate, college boy, and leave the hard stuff to me.” He knocks over a few carefully folded napkins before exiting through another door off to the side. 

Will hears voices coming from the other end of the hall, and he backs away from the door just slightly. It’s clearly almost dinner time, and guests are starting to make their way to the dining hall. Will moves away from the door entirely and turns on his heel, heading back towards his family’s cabin. 

***

Will is still not free, even after sitting through an entire dinner of the waiter flirting with his sister. It’s the same waiter that smarted off to Mike earlier, and Will doesn’t think it says much that Jane is into him. 

Not only that, but Kellerman had come up to their table with a girl about Will’s age in tow, introducing her as his granddaughter, Angela. She’s going to school for hotel management, which Will supposes means she’s Kellerman’s successor. 

Clearly, the intention in introducing Angela to his family had been to set her up with Will, so now Will is in the dance hall with Angela, having an entirely awkward and boring conversation with her about her plans for the future while dancing to the jazz band on the stage. 

Will is nothing if not polite, so he smiles and half-listens to what she’s saying. The song ends, and they clap for a moment before the band picks up again with an upbeat mambo. Angela grabs his hands to dance again, and he indulges her, looking over her shoulder. He spots Jane dancing with the waiter, whose name is Robbie, on the other side of the room. 

Angela is still talking about something when Will spots Mike weaving his way through the crowd. Now he’s in a suit, suspenders peeking out from underneath the jacket. A woman with bright red hair, halfway pinned up on the back of her head, a short, hot pink dress, and heels trails behind him, grasping his hand. 

Will watches as they find the center of the dancefloor, immediately starting to dance. The girl twirls and bends, Mike guiding her in a dance that’s all sharp, quick movements. Their hips twist as they move around the floor, a space in the crowd immediately opening up to watch them dance. 

Will can’t help it when he asks Angela, “Who’s that?” and nods his head at the dancers. 

“Oh, them. They’re the dance people. They’re here to keep guests happy, you know, entertain them.” Angela stops and watches them for a moment, then scoffs. “They shouldn’t show off with each other like that. That won’t sell lessons.” 

Will can barely hear what she’s saying. He’s absolutely focused on the dancers. They’re incredible, and Mike is, well. Will is glad Mike is dancing with a woman because if anyone caught him ogling the way he is, they could assume he’s ogling the woman. And she’s incredible, too. Her legs are long, she’s flexible, and her clear, freckled skin is practically glowing under the lights. 

Will is completely entranced by Mike and his dance partner. He drags and spins the woman around the dancefloor until the song ends. The dancers take a quick bow before dispersing into the crowd, dancing with guests. 

Will’s mouth feels slightly dry, and he’s glad when his parents dance into his view. 

“Having fun, kids?” his dad asks. 

Angela nods and enthusiastically launches into conversation about the band with Will’s father. Will scans the room, looking for Mike, but he’s lost him in the crowd. 

***

Finally, finally , Will is alone again. His family has gone to bed, and the moon is out, casting a bright light over Will as he wanders around the property. 

As he’s walking, he reaches a sign that states STAFF QUARTERS NO GUESTS PLEASE . He looks at the sign for a moment, then glances around. Seeing the area completely empty, he ignores the sign and keeps walking. 

He walks past a long row of small cabins, and he spots a larger building slightly higher up on a hill. He can distantly hear loud music coming from the top floor of the building, and he can see the tops of the silhouettes of the people inside. 

Will keeps moving towards this building, reaching a small footbridge, and he spots Dustin, the guy who carried their bags earlier that day. 

“Hey!” Will calls out to him, and Dustin turns. He’s carrying three large, unwieldy watermelons in his arms. 

Dustin looks surprised to see him. “Hey, how’d you get here?”

“I was taking a walk. What’s up there?” Will asks, taking a watermelon from Dustin before he can say a word. 

“No guests allowed. Go back to the playhouse.” Dustin smirks, “I saw you dancing with the bossman’s granddaughter.” He sways his shoulders, trying to tease but just looking ridiculous, still holding the watermelons. 

Will doesn’t say anything, just hands the watermelon back to Dustin and turns to walk back to the cabin. Dustin struggles a moment under the additional watermelon, then calls to Will, “Can you keep a secret?” Will grins and takes the watermelon back. “Your parents would kill you. Roger would kill me.”

Will follows Dustin over the footbridge and up the concrete steps to a set of double doors. Dustin pushes the doors open with his back, and nearly drops his watermelons. He grins at Will as he practically juggles the watermelons, trying to get his grip back. He looks almost like a clown. Will likes him. 

Will looks past Dustin and into the room. Will swallows and flushes just slightly. The room is warm and full of people dancing, but their dancing is nothing like what he saw earlier. The dancing he saw earlier was choreographed and precise; this dancing is more desperate, almost. People are pressed up against each other, from their chests to their thighs, writhing and grinding against each other. 

Men wind their hands up the skirts of women who bend over backwards, heads almost touching the ground, groins still pressed together. Will hasn’t ever been in a room where people are dancing like this, and he feels incredibly out of place as he grips his watermelon tighter. 

The thing that stops him absolutely dead in his tracks, though, is that there are same-sex couples dancing together. He spots at least two pairs of women grabbing at each others’ waists and thighs, pulling each other close. And, most miraculously, Will sees two men not more than ten feet away from him, locked in a tight embrace. Their thighs are slotted together as they gyrate to the music, and one man has his head thrown back as the other runs his nose up his chest. 

Will could cry. He could melt. He could run away. He’s not sure what he wants to do. He’s never seen queer people out in the open like this. He could faint. 

Instead, he says stupidly, “Where’d they learn to do that?”

Dustin just shrugs, bopping his head to the music. “I don’t know. All the kids are doing it in their basements back home.” He glances over at Will, and he must catch his stricken expression, because he smirks and asks, “You want to try?” 

Will shakes his head, and Dustin just laughs, gesturing for Will to follow him. 

They maneuver through the crowd, and Will’s back brushes that of one of the lesbian couples. Once they’re on the other side of the room, they drop the watermelons and turn back towards the dancing. 

All at once, Mike bursts through the door, his dance partner coming in behind him. Someone offers him a beer, and he takes a drink before he dances his way to the middle of the crowd, dragging the woman along with him. His expression is easier than Will had seen it earlier, and Will’s breath hitches when the two start to dance. 

He tries not to be obvious about the way he leans to get a better look at them, but he can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to Mike. 

Dustin shouts to him over the music. “That’s my cousin over there, Mike Wheeler. He got me the job here.” Mike is grabbing the woman’s hips as they dance in sync, bodies pressed together. 

Will is awe-struck again, and he blurts, “They look great together.”

“Yeah,” Dustin agrees. “You’d think they were a couple.”

“Well, aren’t they?”

“No, not since we were kids.”

Will wants to feel ashamed of the little pleased flicker he feels in his chest. Will’s incredibly jealous of the woman dancing with Mike, but at least she isn’t his girlfriend. 

The song ends, and Mike lets go of his dance partner, dancing his way through the room, goofing off and rubbing up against the people he passes by. Then, suddenly, he’s right in front of Will and Dustin. 

“Yo, cuz. What’s he doing here?” Mike nods at Will, not looking entirely friendly. 

“He came with me. He’s with me.” 

“I carried a watermelon,” Will blurts, nervous now that Mike is standing next to him. Mike just glances him over once, then turns around and dances back into the crowd. Will blinks before he comes to. I carried a watermelon? What the hell. 

Another song starts to play, and Will once again watches as Mike moves across the floor and over to where Will is standing. This time, he’s got his eyes locked on Will. He gets up close, smirking and crooking a finger at Will. Come with me , it says. 

Will is frozen for a moment, but Mike is grabbing his hand and pulling him along. He glances helplessly back at Dustin, who only shrugs. 

Mike stops and turns to face him. He plants his hands on Will’s shoulders and pushes down, forcing Will to bend at the knee. Then, he starts to move his hips, staring right at Will. Will is still frozen, not used to dancing at all, let alone dancing like this . 

He tries awkwardly to copy Mike’s fluid movements, but his moves feel jerky and wrong. He glances around the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the two men dancing together again, if just to reassure himself that this is something he can do here. He can give in to his desires in this room. 

Mike catches his eye again, and he motions to his face. “Watch my eyes.” Will does as he’s told, and tries to sink into the feeling of the dance. Mike smiles slightly, nodding. “Good.” Will flushes with the praise, as minimal as it is. 

Then, in a moment, Mike’s hand is wrapping around the left side of Will’s waist, pulling him close. He slots their legs together, the same way he saw those two other men dancing earlier, and continues thrusting his hips, pulling their bodies together as he does. 

“Good,” Mike says again. “Now roll this way.”

Mike’s hands move to Will’s hips, guiding his movements. They move together, and Will is enjoying himself, even before Mike wraps Will’s arms around his neck. Mike dips him back just slightly, and Will goes easily, before he snaps back into place. Mike presses their foreheads together and pulls Will closer again. 

Will doesn’t think he’s ever felt sexy before, but that’s exactly how he feels right now. 

Then, as suddenly as it started, the song is over, and Mike is spinning Will away. Will stumbles slightly and watches Mike disappear into the crowd again, feeling flushed and electric. He catches his breath, and realizes Mike isn’t coming back. 

***

The next night, Will finds himself in the gazebo again, pressed up next to his father, watching Mike dance with an older woman. He hears Kellerman telling his dad that Mrs. Pressman, the woman Mike is dancing with, is one of the women that stays all week, while their husbands only come on the weekends. Will immediately doesn’t like her, and not just because of the way she’s clearly cheating on her husband. 

Will spots Angela making her way over to Mike, and she taps his shoulder primly. He stops dancing to look at her, a question clear on his face. 

“Where is Max? Everybody’s been asking for her,” Angela says, matter-of-factly. 

“What do you mean ‘where’s Max?’ She’s taking a break. She needs a break.” Mike stares Angela down, daring her to challenge him. 

“Fine, as long as it’s not an all-night break,” she says, not at all concerned by Mike’s tone. She swiftly turns away from him and approaches Will. She holds out her hand, “Come, darling, let’s take a walk.”

Will allows Angela to lead him away, glancing only once more at Mike, still dancing with Mrs. Pressman. 

Angela walks him along the edge of the lake, clutching his arm and chattering away, before asking him if he’s hungry. He’s not, but he follows her inside anyway. 

She lets him into the kitchen, clearly relishing in the fact that she has access to any room she wants at this resort. Will humors her as she opens the fridge and starts listing off the foods inside. 

Behind him, Will hears a soft sniffling. He turns his head to see Mike’s dance partner sitting in the shadows by an oven, crying on the floor. She’s absolutely trembling, fist shoved in her mouth to keep quiet. 

Angela is still busy sifting through the fridge, and he doesn’t want her to see the woman on the other side of the counter. He assumes this is the Max she was looking for. 

He slings an arm around Angela, who looks up at him with a smile. “Oh, Angela, this is really nice, but I think I better go check on my sister. I saw her sneak off with a waiter earlier.” 

Angela nods like this makes perfect sense and lets Will lead her away. He leaves her at a table outside the gazebo with her grandfather before rushing over to where Dustin is standing in a corner. He tells him what he saw, and Dustin quickly runs over to where Mike is dancing with yet another older woman. 

Dustin pulls at Mike’s arm and whispers in his ear. Will watches Mike take off, Dustin close behind, and follows them both back towards the main house. 

“Why’s he here?” Mike asks gruffly, still moving quickly in the direction of the kitchen. 

“I brought him in case Angela comes back,” Dustin says. 

Mike ignores him. “Max just doesn’t think, sometimes.” 

“She wouldn’t do anything stupid, would she?” 

Will is completely lost, but he wants to help in whatever way he can, so he asks, “What’s the matter? What’s wrong with her?”

Dustin sighs before responding, “She’s knocked up, Will.” 

“Dustin!” Mike says sharply, shooting him a harsh look. 

Will is still trying to process the situation, and he doesn’t think before saying, “Well, what’s he going to do about it?”

Mike whips around to glare at Will. “ What’s he going to do about it? Oh, it’s mine, right? Oh, you think it’s mine.” His voice is cold, and Will falters. 

“But, I thought—” but Mike has already walked ahead. Will just trails him helplessly. 

In the kitchen, Mike looks around before he spots Max on the floor, in the same place she was when Will left. She’s lying down now, still trembling and crying. Mike rushes over to her and picks her up, cradling her head against his chest. 

He shushes her, and says, “It’s okay. Mike’s here. It’s okay. I’m never going to let anything happen to you.” 

She just moans, still shaking, and Mike puts his arms beneath her back and her knees. “We got to go,” he says gently, standing up slowly. “Just hold on.” 

Mike stands fully and carries Max all the way to a cabin in the staff quarters. 

Will still follows, not sure if he should be there or not, but not sure what to do otherwise. 

In the cabin, Mike sets Max down on the couch, and Dustin wraps a blanket around her shoulders. Mike sits across from her. 

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re in trouble: you talk to me. I’ll take care of it. You should have come to me in the first place.” His voice is gentle, but stern. Max has stopped crying, but her mascara is still smudged around beneath her eyes. 

“Forget it, Mike. I’m not taking what’s left of your salary. Besides, it wouldn’t be enough.” Max starts to cry again. “Oh, God, it’s hopeless.”

Will can’t sit back and listen anymore. “Don’t say that,” he blurts, taking a step towards the couch. “There’s gotta be a way to work it out.” He really believes that, too. Will doesn’t ever like to feel like something is hopeless. 

Max looks up at him for a second. “Will. Is that your name?” Will nods. “Well, you know what, Will? You don’t know shit about my problems.”

Dustin coughs. “I told him.”

Max gives him an incredulous look. “Jesus, Dustin! Now he’ll tell his little management girlfriend, and we’ll all get fired! Why not skywrite it? ‘Max got knocked up by Robbie, the creep.’”

Will is completely taken aback. “Robbie?” As in, the Robbie that was flirting with his sister?

Mike jumps out of his chair, halfway to cussing Will out, when Dustin cuts in. He walks up to Will and places a hand on his shoulder. “Look, Will. One of the counselors knows a doctor. A real M.D. Just traveling through New Paltz one day next week. We can get her an appointment, but it costs $250.”

Will shakes his head, still not understanding. “Well, if it’s Robbie, it won’t be a problem. I know he has the money.” This is true. Robbie had been bragging to his sister about the fancy college he goes to. “If you just tell him—”

“He knows,” Max cuts him off. Will shuts his mouth. Max laughs, an entirely humorless laugh. “Go back to your playpen.” 

The words are meant to be cruel, but they mostly just sound sad. Will doesn’t say a word. He just turns around and walks out. 

***

The next morning, Will finds himself helping Robbie fill glasses of water as they prepare for lunch, trying to appeal to any crumb of decency he might possess. 

“You’re going to tell me what’s right?” Robbie asks skeptically, moving to the next table. 

“You can’t just leave her!”

“I didn’t blow a summer hauling toasted bagels just to bail out some chick who probably beat off every guy in the place.” Will just stares at him. “Some people count. Some people don’t.”

Will considers his casually smug expression for a moment, before he takes a step closer to Robbie. “You make me sick,” he says, in a low voice. “Stay away from me, stay away from my sister, or I’ll have you fired.” Will grins and pours the pitcher of water he’s been holding down the front of Robbie’s pants and walks away. 

He immediately goes in search of his dad, who he knows is somewhere on the golf course. He finds his parents on the putting green, his dad easily putting the balls in the hole and his mother failing miserably. 

Will has a good relationship with both of his parents, but he’s particularly close with his father. Will has always looked up to him, and always trusted him to protect him and provide him the best life he could. Will knows they have a special bond, and he feels only a little bad when he takes advantage of that. 

He’s asking for the $250, for Max. He pleads with his father to lend him the money, even though Will can’t tell him what he needs it for. He just asks him to trust him, to trust that he’s using the money to help someone who needs it badly. 

His father agrees. 

That night, Will marches his way up to the dancing shack in the staff quarters with the money in his pocket. He weaves through the dancers with purpose, looking for Mike and Max. He finds them dancing together on the other side of the room.

He walks right up to them and taps Max on the shoulder. When they both turn to look at Will, he beckons them over to the side. Dustin spots them and joins, forming a small circle on the outside of the dancefloor. 

“Here’s the money,” Will says, handing over the wad of cash to Max. 

She looks shocked, but her face almost lights up. “You mean from Robbie?”

She sounds hopeful, and Will feels a little bad when he replies, “No. You were right about him.”

Now Max looks confused. “So where’d you get it?” 

“You said you needed it,” Will says, avoiding the question. 

Max looks at Mike incredulously. “Is this kid for real?”

Mike looks at Will, unimpressed. “Yeah, it takes a real saint to ask daddy,” he mocks, and Will feels that sting. He looks down, away from Mike’s gaze. 

Max looks at Will, conflicted. “Thanks, Will, but I can’t use it.” She shoves the money back in Will’s hand and turns to try to dance with Mike again. 

Mike gently pushes her off. “What’s wrong with you? You should take the money.” She just shakes her head and pulls him in again. 

Dustin sighs, explaining that the only night she can get an appointment is Thursday, and she and Mike have an important dancing gig at another resort, the Sheldrake, that night. If they cancel that gig, they lose their salary for the season and the gig next summer. 

Will won’t accept that as an answer. “Well, can’t someone else fill in?”

Mike huffs, rolling his eyes. “No, Mr. Fix-It. Somebody else can’t fill in. There’s no time for someone else to learn the routines. Everybody works here.” He gets a mean sort of look on his face. “What, do you want to do it? You wanna take time out from Simon Says?” 

Max gives Mike a look, and Will just looks away again, not wanting to see the taunting smirk on his handsome face. 

Dustin hums in contemplation. “It’s not a bad idea.” Will looks at him like he’s grown a second head. 

Mike also looks at Dustin like he’s crazy, scoffing, “It was a joke, Dustin.”

“He can move,” Dustin offers, clearly referencing the way he and Mike had danced together the other night. Will flushes.

“No. It’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard of,” Mike insists. 

“I can’t even do the merengue!” Will protests. Then, softer, “And, besides, won’t you get fired for dancing with a—with another man?” Will wishes he wasn’t blushing, but he has no experience verbalizing his queerness. 

To Will’s surprise, Dustin shakes his head. “Nah. If we were somewhere else, that might be true, but Kellerman doesn’t care so much about anything besides the work getting done. As long as you can put on a good show, it’ll be fine. It’ll definitely turn some heads. It matters more if you’re cool being seen dancing with another man.” 

Will thinks about this for a moment. This gig is at a completely different resort. If his family were going to be in the audience, he would probably refuse. Definitely refuse. But, in this case, no one will know him there. He has no name there. He’s just a performer. 

“Yeah,” Mike agrees. “It’s less of a problem that you’re a man than it is that you can’t dance.” 

Will can see that Max is starting to agree with Dustin, that maybe this is a plan that could work out after all. “Mike, you’re a strong partner! You can lead anybody!” 

Mike looks at Max and Dustin with wide eyes, in complete disbelief that they’re both siding against him. “You heard him! He can’t even do the merengue. He can’t do it. He cannot do it.” 

Will narrows his eyes slightly, biting his lip as he stares at Mike. He’s nervous. He’s never even talked to someone who knew he was gay, and now suddenly he’s potentially agreeing to dancing with another man in public. Of course he’s nervous. 

But there’s something about the insistence in Mike’s voice, the confidence with which he says that Will can’t do this. He’s not so sure he likes Mike’s attitude. 

***

Thus, Will finds himself in the dance shack early the next morning, pissing Mike off before nine in the morning. 

Will steps on Mike’s foot, again , and Mike groans. “No!” Will apologizes quietly. “You don’t step on the one. You start on the two. Find the two.” Mike moves to restart the record. 

“I told you I never did any of these dances before,” Will tries, but Mike ignores him.

“When the music starts, you don’t dance until the two. You got it?” Mike places one hand on Will’s ribcage and grabs Will’s hand with the other. Will is almost too focused on learning the steps to feel flustered by the touch. Almost. 

Mike looks at him for one long moment, then he drops his arms, grabbing Will’s hands. He shakes their arms, swinging them back and forth. “Relax,” he instructs. “Relax. Breathe.” Mike takes an intentionally loud breath in and out, encouraging Will to do the same. 

The music starts, and Mike places his hands back on Will. 

“Nope,” he says, when Will’s foot moves to step on one. They make it through two counts of four before Will steps on Mike’s foot again. 

Their lessons continue like this over the next few days. Mike’s voice echoes in Will’s head when he tries to sleep at night, counting rhythmically and correcting Will’s posture. He can feel the ghost of Mike’s hands grabbing at his waist, pressing at his back, his stomach, drawing back his shoulders. 

Will finds himself practicing the steps when he has moments alone—in the bathroom before a shower, or while he’s walking on the footbridge from the dance shack. He’s learning, but it doesn’t feel like he’s learning fast enough. He nearly breaks his toe one day by kicking a fence post out of frustration. 

One day, Mike tries to explain how to follow the beat of the music in a new way. 

“It’s a feeling. It’s a—a heartbeat,” Mike says, placing his hand over his chest. “Ga-gung. Ga-gung.” He taps his fingers against his chest and imitates the sound of a heartbeat. 

Will watches him and tries to imitate his movements. He taps at his chest a few times before Mike says, “Don’t try so hard,” and grabs his hand. 

Mike places Will’s hand over his own chest, and taps out the heartbeat on the back of Will’s hand. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and Will does as he’s told, feeling the steady pulse of Mike’s fingers against his hand. 

Mike stops making the sound of a heartbeat and starts to count out the beats of the song. He gently starts to step, and Will follows suit, eyes still closed. 

Will leans into the feeling of Mike’s lead, and he can feel himself internalizing the beat of the music. He opens his eyes and gazes up at Mike, still stepping in time. 

***

Max joins a few of their lessons when she has time, watching from the side and stepping in to help every now and then. Today she stands by the record player in a black leotard and tights, replaying the track every time Mike tells her to. 

“Lock your frame. Lock your—look, spaghetti arms.” Mike wiggles Will’s arms, elbows loose. Mike steps back, and holds his arms out in a V. “This is my dance space,” he says, motioning to the space between his arms. He grabs Will’s arms, holding them up in a V, as well. “This is your dance space. I don’t go into yours; you don’t go into mine. You’ve got to hold your frame.” He motions to Max to start the music again. 

Max starts the music and moves to stand behind Will. She places a guiding hand against Will’s hip and the middle of his back, helping him to hold his form. 

Later, Mike sits off to the side and watches as Max works with Will, leading him in some practice with footwork and coordination. It helps somewhat, but Will still stumbles into Mike and knocks their heads together when they practice the spins. 

As their lessons go on, Will notices Mike start to smile a bit more. Will makes less mistakes and is more able to keep up with the speed of the music. Mike will smile down at Will and nod encouragingly, and Will would be lying if he said it didn’t send a thrill down his spine. 

Will still can’t entirely get a read on what Mike thinks of him, but Will is getting more and more comfortable with Mike as each day goes by. 

One day, they’re rehearsing a particularly intimate part of the dance. Will stands with his back pressed up against Mike’s front, faces turned toward each other. Mike leads Will’s hand up and over Mike’s head, encircling his neck in the crook of Will’s arm, before Mike traces a gentle hand down the side of Will’s body. 

The move is sensual, and definitely a bit thrilling, but Will can’t stop himself from bursting into laughter every time Mike’s hand brushes past his armpit. Will is slightly ticklish, and something about the intimacy of the pose makes him slightly giggly. It happens only a few times, and Mike huffs and drops Will’s arm every time. Normally, Will might be slightly put off by Mike’s dramatic frustration, but he feels so incredibly light that day that he can do nothing but laugh. 

It all comes to a head, though, one day in the studio. Rain is pouring down just outside the door, and they haven’t made it through the dance one full time without a mishap. At the very end of one run, Will overdoes the backwards lean they do to end the dance with a flourish and Mike tweaks his back. 

He grunts, and Will starts to apologize before Mike shouts, “Are you trying to kill me? Concentrate . Is that your idea of fun?” 

Will is tired and covered in sweat and fed up with Mike’s attitude today. 

“You know, as a matter of fact it is!” he shouts at Mike, sarcasm heavy in his tone. “We’re supposed to do the show in two days, you won’t show me this mysterious lift I’m supposed to learn, I’m not sure on turns, and I’m doing all this to save your ass , but what I really want to do is drop you on it!”

Will huffs, trying to catch his breath. Mike just looks at him for a moment before he says, “Well, then let’s get out of here.”

Will throws on his rain jacket before Mike leads him out the door and into the rain. It’s downpouring, and all Mike has on is his leather jacket. His hair immediately gets soaked, sticking to the sides of his cheeks. 

Mike runs up to his car and tries to open the door—it’s locked. “Shit!” he curses, banging a hand on the roof of the car. “I locked the keys in the car,” he explains to Will, and Will peeks inside the window, spotting the keys in the passenger seat. 

Mike looks around himself for a few moments before he spots a series of wooden posts lining the path. He kicks one out of the dirt, walks it over to the car, and smashes in the back window.

Will jumps just slightly, eyes wide, but Mike just reaches inside the broken window to unlock the car. He opens the passenger side door for Will, gesturing inside with his hand. Will just looks at him, sort of dumbstruck. 

“You’re getting wet, right?” Mike asks, still holding the door. Will blinks and rushes immediately into the open car. Mike walks around to the driver’s side and puts the car into gear. 

Mike starts driving down the road towards the resort exit, and Will can’t help but laugh just a little. “You’re wild,” he says to Mike, breathless. 

Mike glances at him. “What?” 

Will just grins at him, feeling a bit crazy himself. “You’re wild! ” he cries, throwing his head back in laughter. Mike’s hair is still dripping on his face, but he turns to Will with what’s probably the most genuine smile Will’s ever gotten from him on his face. He laughs, too, shaking his head at Will. 

They drive for no more than twenty minutes, but the rain stops completely by the time Mike pulls up by the river. The sun is starting to peek through the clouds. Mike parks his car in the grass, and Will follows him wordlessly to the river bank. 

A fallen tree lies across the river, creating a small, precarious bridge from one side to the other. Will takes off his shoes and discards his jacket, and he watches Mike do the same. Mike starts to walk across the log, balancing like a gymnast, and he turns to face Will when he’s made it halfway. 

Mike stands still, extending his arms in the form of a T, the muscles in his arms taut. Will doesn’t think he could look away, even if he wanted to. 

“Now,” Mike starts, still standing motionless on the log. “The most important thing to remember with lifts is balance.” To demonstrate, Mike braces himself before jumping up and landing back on the log.

The jump shakes the entire tree, and Will grabs at a root and sits down before he falls over. He watches Mike teeter around on the log, walking back and forth until he regains his balance. Will worries that he might fall off, but Mike is laughing gleefully. 

“I got it now!” he cries, and Will can’t help but laugh with him. 

He watches Mike as he adjusts his footing. “Where’d you learn to be a dancer?” he asks, always wondering, but never feeling like he was allowed to ask. 

“Well, this guy came into this luncheonette one day, and we were all sitting around doing nothing, and he said that Murray Bauman was giving a test for instructors.” Mike sits down, straddling the log with his legs. He continues, “So, if you passed, they’d teach you all these different dances, show you how to break them down, how to teach them—you know.”

Mike swings back up onto his feet, seemingly unable to stay put, and arranges himself into something resembling a lunge, one arm extended in front of him. He’s stopped talking, and he’s looking at Will.

“What?” Will asks, and Mike grins and crooks a finger at him, beckoning him to join him. Will shakes his head. “No.”

Mike doesn’t give him a choice, though, when he walks over to Will and grabs both his hands, helping him to his feet. “Good,” he mumbles, and grabs Will’s chin when he tries to look down at his feet, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Don’t look. Don’t look down. Look right here,” he encourages, motioning to his own face. 

They place their arms around each other to practice their dance, and they immediately nearly topple over. Will grabs desperately at Mike’s arms, laughing loudly from nerves and no small amount of excitement. 

Once they restabilize, Mike starts to guide Will, stepping backwards in time. Together, they carefully walk their way across the log, step-by-step. Once Will starts to gain his footing, the step forward, then backwards, then forward again, dancing a shaky version of their routine. Mike lets go of Will, and starts dancing cheesily, bending at the knees and swinging his fists up and down. Will laughs and starts to dance, too, moving his hips and waving his arms. 

They move back and forth over the log a few more times before Mike pulls him away from the riverbank and out to the grassy field. 

Within a few minutes, Mike is coaching Will through the lift, the part of the routine that Will is the most nervous for. 

Will runs toward Mike, jumping into his outstretched arms. Mike grabs him by the waist and lifts him higher off the ground before he lands on his feet again. They’re only practicing some smaller jumps, but Will is nervous. Having Mike’s hands firm around his waist certainly isn’t helping. 

“You’ll hurt me if you don’t trust me,” Mike says after a few small lifts. “Go again.”

They do it once, twice more before Mike says, “Good, now we’ll go up. All right?” 

Will braces himself and nods minutely, running towards Mike again. This time, when Mike grabs his waist and starts to lift him over his head, Will hesitates, letting out an embarrassing little shriek. 

Mike seems prepared for it when they go tumbling to the ground, Will’s legs loosely wrapping around Mike’s hips as he falls on top of him. 

The fall is smooth, and Will laughs, the anxiety in his belly bubbling over. Mike shakes his head, but Will is relieved to see a small smile on his face, too. 

Will catches his breath, still sitting on top of Mike, and Mike stares up at him for a moment too long, grin still tugging at his lips. “You know,” he says, “the best place to practice lifts is in the water.”

That’s how they find themselves in a new location again, wading into the water in their clothes. Mike takes off his shirt, but Will keeps his white tank top on. It clings to his torso as he follows Mike into the water until they’re chest deep. 

Will is struck by the definition in the muscles of Mike’s back, in part because Will has been dying to see Mike without his shirt on, but also because of the delicate smattering of freckles that dance across his skin. Will wants to trace them, to mouth over them with his lips. 

Mike turns to Will, and he beckons Will closer. Will steps into his space, placing his hands over the freckled skin of his shoulders. Mike’s hands come to rest just above his hips, and his expression is earnest when he speaks. 

“Okay, just bend your knees,” Mike says, crouching down, “and go!” 

Will bends his knees and launches himself up, feeling Mike lifting him up and over his head. Will extends his arms and tightens his core, his back curved and head forward. He feels Mike struggle slightly beneath him as they try to find their balance. 

Mike’s hands rest under the bones in Will’s pelvis, and he can hear him shouting, “Good! Good! Now hold the position. Hold it.” Will tries, but he can feel his form loosening, and he assumes Mike can feel it too. “Don’t break it! Don’t break it!” He yells, but Will is already falling forward, diving into the water. 

He breaks the surface laughing, and Mike is laughing too as he brushes his wet hair away from his eyes. The two of them are giggling, sort of giddy, and they move towards each other. Still laughing, Will wraps an arm around Mike’s neck, noses only centimeters apart.

The air between them is electric, and without saying a word, they both get back into position to try the lift again. They nod at each other and bend together, launching Will into the air once more. This lift lasts only a second longer than the first, and Will dives back into the water. 

They keep practicing, giggling at each other and probably being a little more handsy than is strictly necessary. They get through a few more trials before they call it a day and head back to the resort. 

***

A few days later, Will is walking with Max, trying not to appear as nervous as he is. 

“I can’t believe it’s tonight,” he says, going for casual, but he has to wipe his damp palms on his shorts. 

If Max notices he’s nervous, she doesn’t say anything about it. “The Sheldrake is 20 minutes away, so you’ll just change in the car on the way back.”

Their conversation is interrupted when a little old woman Will has come to know as Mrs. Schumacher drops her purse on her way through the doorway to the main house. 

Will and Max go over to her, offering to help her pick up her spilled bag. She seems to have just about everything imaginable in that purse, including a strange amount of wallets for one person, but Will doesn’t think much of it. Mrs. Schumacher babbles for a moment about dance school to Max before her husband walks through the door and whisks her away. 

Will follows Max to an empty dance studio where he changes into his outfit for the performance. Max pins a few things in place and fusses over his shirt as he lists off all the things he needs to remember. 

“I’ll keep my shoulders down, my head up, my frame locked, stay on my toes…” He sighs. “What if I forget the steps?”

Max meets his gaze with a stern look, one Will has come to recognize over the past few days, and she says, “Pull up, watch your frame, and remember: let him lead you .” 

Will’s stomach is roiling anxiously, and he’s almost wishing he could back out. Almost. 

“I’m afraid I’ll miss a step or get dizzy and fall on my face.” Max has gone back to fussing over a seam on his sleeve, and Will looks at the way her bright red hair falls over her shoulder. He sighs, shaking his head, trying to shake the nerves right out of himself. He knows why he’s doing this. He takes a big breath and starts listing more reminders, attempting optimism. 

He’s rambling about posture when Max looks at him again and mumbles, “Thanks, Will. I just want you to know I don’t sleep around, whatever Robbie might have told you. I thought that he loved me. I thought it was something special.” She huffs a small, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that.”

Will isn’t sure what to say, but he’s not sure Max even wants him to say anything, so he just asks, “How do I look?” attempting to lighten the mood. 

Max gives him a small smile, thinking for a moment, before she admits, “I’m scared.” Will really looks at her now, her eyes welling up with tears. “I’m so scared, Will.”

Will’s heart drops. He puts a hand on her shoulder, but then decides to pull her into a hug, cradling the back of her head. “Don’t worry,” he soothes. “You’ll be fine! You’ll be fine.” 

She doesn’t let go, so Will just stands there, rubbing at her back. 

***

The lights are dim, and Will is standing on a stage in front of several dozens of tables, each hosting men and women in fabulous gowns and fancy suits. Mike is standing directly behind him, one hand on his waist, ready to start the dance as soon as the music begins.

A voice comes through a speaker, announcing, “We are proud to present Mike Wheeler and partner in Mambo Magic!”

Then, the lights come up and the music starts to play. Will is stiff and so incredibly nervous as Mike grabs Will’s arm to lift over his head, dragging his hand down Will’s side. Will isn’t laughing this time, too overwhelmed to think about much of anything. 

“Relax,” Mike mumbles in his ear as his hand slides over Will’s waist. He spins Will out and reels him back in, and Will stumbles slightly, pressing a hand against Mike’s chest and looking down at his feet, even though he isn’t supposed to. 

Mike’s hand nudges Will’s chin up until they’re making eye contact. The soft brown of Mike’s eyes soothes Will’s nerves slightly, but then they’re dancing. Will is still a little stiff, but his body moves without much input from his brain. 

They step and twirl around the stage, and Mike mumbles small reminders to him as they go. Will remembers what Max said and lets Mike lead. Will only fumbles a few steps and turns, but ultimately Mike’s lead makes it seem like there was never a mistake at all. 

Things are going well until Mike asks, “Are you ready for the lift?” The answer is definitely no, but Will couldn’t speak even if he wanted to. Will dances to the other end of the stage, and Mike nods at him with a small smile when he turns to face him. 

Will runs toward him but bails at the last moment, instead improvising a few clumsy steps until Mike is pulling him back into the routine. “Keep going. Keep going,” he encourages. They continue to dance, Mike lifting and spinning Will a few times, much to the audience’s delight. They applaud small moves, and Will tries to focus on the feeling of Mike’s body against his instead of their attention. 

He’s moving on autopilot until the last note of the song, and when they’ve finished, the audience is clapping, but, more importantly, Mike is grinning at him. His hair is slightly rumpled, but he looks genuinely pleased as he grabs Will’s hand to bow. 

Now that it’s over, Will takes a breath and smiles too. He did it. He did it and he didn’t ruin the whole dance and Max will have her procedure done and everything will work out perfectly. 

Will is still catching his breath when he spots the Schumachers making their way through the crowd. Will’s heart stops for a moment, but he just smiles and continues to bow. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like the Schumachers have noticed him by the time Mike is pulling him off the stage, a breathless grin on his face. 

Will wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him badly, but right now they need to get back to Kellerman’s before his family realizes he’s gone. 

Mike drives while Will changes in the backseat. He doesn’t notice, too focused on getting his clothes on, but Mike sneaks a few subtle glances in the rearview mirror, trying to catch glimpses of Will half-dressed. 

Will is buttoning his pants when Mike finally speaks. “You did good. You worked hard.”

“I saw that old couple from Kellerman’s, and I thought that was it,” Will says, never great at accepting praise. 

“Oh, me too, me too!” Mike agrees, turning to glance at Will for a moment. “But, you know, by the second turn, you really had it.” 

Will tries to hide the pink in his cheeks by staring down at his shoelaces, pretending to re-tie them. “But I didn’t do the lift,” he says, disagreeing. It’s true—he didn’t even try. 

Mike doesn’t respond to that, just repeats, “You did real good.” His voice sounds… kind, in a way Will has never heard before. 

When Will is finished changing, he climbs into the front seat next to Mike. They drive in silence the rest of the way to the resort, the only sound being whatever song is playing on the radio. Will can’t help but glance at Mike, feeling shy when he sees Mike glancing at him too. 

They pull up into the grass in front of the staff cabins, and Mike hops out of the car and walks around to open Will’s door for him. Will smiles and takes his outstretched hand, not needing help getting out of the car but certainly not rejecting it. 

Mike stands in front of Will and takes his other hand, and they just look at each other for a moment. Will thinks that just maybe…

Suddenly, Dustin is running up the hill towards them, seemingly frantic. “Mike! Mike!” he shouts, out of breath. Mike turns to face him. “Come on, it’s Max.” Mike doesn’t hesitate before he starts running in the direction of Max’s cabin. 

Will races after him, confused and a little scared. 

Mike races through the door as Dustin babbles behind him. “She was waiting until you got back.”

“You didn’t call an ambulance?” Mike asks, rushing to Max’s bedside. She’s lying on the bed, drenched in sweat and grimacing in pain. Mike grabs her hand.

“She said the hospital would call the police. She made me promise not to!” Dustin explains desperately. “He didn’t use no ether. Nothing.” 

“I thought you said he was a real M.D.,” Will says, shocked by what he’s seeing. 

“The guy had a dirty knife and a folding table,” Dustin spits, turning back to Mike. “I could hear her screaming down the hallway. I swear to God, Mike, I tried to get in. I tried. ”

Max is shaking in the bed, her breathing labored. Mike strokes her hair, and she clings to his arm. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “Mike is here. It’s okay.” 

Will processes what Dustin has just told him before he rushes back out the door and towards his family’s cabin. 

His family is asleep, but Will rushes into his parents’ room, shaking his father awake. He opens his eyes, startled. “Will? What is it?” 

Will can’t find the words, so he just tugs on his father’s arm, trying to pull him out of bed. 

“Is it Jane?” his father asks, and Will shakes his head. He’s still breathing hard from running all the way to the cabin, but he grabs his father’s bag of medical supplies and dashes out the door. His father follows him, sensing Will’s urgency. 

His dad doesn’t ask questions as he pushes his way into the room full of people, all worried about Max. “Excuse me," he says, walking over to the bed. “I need everyone to clear out,” he demands, and Mike gets out of his way. Jim sits on the bed in Mike’s place and places a hand against Max’s forehead. 

He lightly presses his hand into her stomach, and she groans in pain. Will can see the panic in Mike’s face, but Will’s father remains calm. 

“Yes, I know that hurts. We’re going to take care of that.” He opens his bag and starts to pull out a few things. He doesn’t look up when he asks, “Who’s responsible for this girl?”

“I am,” Mike says immediately. Will places a hand against his arm, trying to comfort him. “Please, is she—” He cuts himself off, slightly choked up. 

Jim immediately clocks his son’s hand on Mike’s arm, but he doesn’t say anything. He asks them to all go outside, and everyone waits on the small porch anxiously as Will’s father works on Max. No one says a word. 

Not even an hour later, Will’s father steps out onto the porch, shutting the door behind him. Dustin rushes up to him first, grabbing his hand in a handshake. “Doc,” he says, “thanks a lot.”

Mike steps up next to Dustin and extends his hand, as well. “Dr. Byers, I don’t know how to thank you,” he says, earnest and relieved. Will’s father ignores him completely, instead grabbing Will by the shoulder and walking him down the stairs. Will watches as Mike slowly lowers his hand, watching them go. 

Will follows his father as he starts to make his way back towards their cabin. After a few tense moments, he asks, “Is that what my money paid for?” 

“Dad, I’m sorry. I never meant to lie to you,” Will answers, desperate.

His father doesn’t even look up, eyes focused in front of him. “You’re not the person I thought you were, Will.” Will feels his stomach drop. “I’m not sure who you are, but I don’t want you to have anything to do with those people ever again.” 

“Can’t I just explain—” Will starts, but his father stops and faces him, cutting him off. 

“Nothing. You are to have nothing to do with them ever again!” His voice is stern. “I won’t tell your mother about this. Right now, I’m going to bed.” 

His dad keeps walking, not checking to see that Will is following him. Will stops walking and takes a moment to breathe. He loves his dad so dearly, but he’s wrong about this. 

Will watches his father’s figure get further and further away before he turns and walks back in the opposite direction.

Will finds himself in front of the door to Mike’s cabin. He’s never been here, and he’s not sure Mike would even want to see him after his father treated him the way he did, but Will can’t deny that the only person he wants to see right now is Mike. 

Will knocks, and he hears footsteps approaching the door before it swings open. Mike stands on the other side, shirtless, but still wearing his pants from their performance earlier. 

“Can I come in?” Will asks, feeling small. 

Mike doesn’t say anything. He steps out of the way, and Will walks in, taking in the interior of the cabin. It’s sparsely furnished, with a bed and a few chairs, clothes hanging from the rafters and a singular lamp teetering on a small table. 

Mike comes up behind him and coughs. “I guess, uh, I guess it’s not a great room,” he says, and he sounds slightly embarrassed. “You probably got a great room.”

“No! It’s a great room!” Will says emphatically. He’s lying, but he doesn’t want Mike to think he thinks less of him because of the room he stays in. He’s pretty sure Mike knows he's lying too, but Mike doesn’t say anything. He clears some clothes off a chair and Will sits in it. 

Mike moves to turn off the record player that’s quietly playing music from the corner of the room, but Will stops him. 

“No! Leave it on.” Mike looks at him, confused. “I’m sorry about the way my father treated you.” 

Mike doesn’t meet Will’s gaze for more than a second, opting to clear more clothes off another chair to sit in. “Oh, no, your father was great. He was great. The way he took care of Max—”

Will cuts him off, “Yes, but I mean the way he was with you. It’s really me it has to do with.” Mike just shifts uncomfortably in his chair, still not meeting Will’s eyes. 

Will continues, “Mike, I came here because my father—”

Mike cuts Will off this time. “No, the way he saved her… I could never do anything like that. That was something. The reason people treat me like I’m nothing is because I’m nothing.” 

Will feels angry that anyone has ever made Mike feel that way, including his own father. Mike, who is protective, yet gentle. Mike, who can dance and hold Will in the air above his head. Mike, who Will feels more affection for every hour he spends with him. 

“That’s not true!” Will disagrees, and he means it. “You—you’re everything.” 

Mike looks at him finally, his eyes hard, but also hurt. “No, you don’t understand how it is for someone like me. Last month, I survived on Jujubes, and now this month women are stuffing diamonds in my pockets. I’m balancing on shit and just like that, I could be down there again.”

“No, it’s not the way it is. It doesn’t have to be that way,” Will pleads, ever the optimist. 

Mike shakes his head in disbelief. His voice is bitter when he says, “I’ve never known anybody like you. You look at the world and you think you can make it better. Somebody’s lost, you find them, somebody’s bleeding—”

“Yeah, I go get my daddy,” Will interrupts, knowing he’s going to be mocked. “That’s really brave, like you said.”

“That took a lot of guts to go to him!” Mike says, catching Will slightly off-guard. “I mean, you’re not scared of anything!”

Will gives him an incredulous look, and retorts, “Me? I’m scared of everything! I’m scared of what I saw, of what I did, of who I am. But, most of all, I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my life the way I feel when I’m with you.”

Will can feel a lump forming in his throat, and his stomach twists violently when he thinks of what Mike might say. 

But Mike doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Will, an unreadable expression on his face before he looks at the ground. 

Will can’t stand him not saying anything, so he stands and walks over to where Mike now stands. He looks at Mike, allowing himself to be vulnerable. “Dance with me,” he says. 

Mike looks back at him. “What, here?”

“Here,” Will confirms softly. He walks closer to Mike, and he doesn’t move away. Will can see Mike’s resolve crumble when Will runs a gentle hand over his bare chest. He gazes into Mike’s eyes through his eyelashes, sliding his hand over Mike’s shoulder and to the back of his neck, looping the other arm around his shoulder, too. 

Mike gives in, grabbing Will’s hips and pulling him closer, his face hovering barely an inch away from Will’s. Then, they start to dance, but this time, they’re dancing the way Will had seen the workers dance the night he carried the watermelon. 

Their hips press together, and Mike holds his back as Will bends backwards just slightly, exposing his neck. Mike’s hands slide up to his shoulder blades, pulling Will’s chest back towards his. They wrap their arms around each other in a tight embrace, and Will buries his face in Mike’s neck. 

Mike’s hands are moving along Will’s back, and one creeps just over the curve of Will’s ass as they sway together. Will lets himself let go, completely surrendering himself to Mike’s lead. He feels no need to hold back anymore—not here. 

Will mouths along Mike’s neck, pressing loose kisses against his collarbones. One of Mike’s hands slides down to Will’s thigh, pulling his leg up around Mike’s hip and Will drops his head back again, letting Mike swing him to the side. 

Mike drops Will’s leg, and Will’s face moves to press against Mike’s once again. They’re breathing the same air, and Will has never felt this way in his entire life. Their mouths are so close, but they don’t kiss yet.

Will moves around behind Mike, pressing a kiss against his bare shoulder, his spine, his shoulder blade. He lets his own hand slide to Mike’s ass as he moves around him, coming back to face him. 

Mike’s gaze is heavy, and they move in sync as Will’s arms go up and Mike slides off his shirt. Their skin is pressed together, hot and smooth, and Will is barely thinking. Mike’s hands start to grab a little more desperately at Will’s hips before their lips finally meet. 

They continue to move against each other, kissing and letting their hands roam. It only takes a few minutes of this before Mike is guiding Will towards the mattress at the other end of the room, pressing him down and climbing over him. 

Mike’s touch is so gentle, his movements so sensual, and Will’s body has never felt so alive before. Things are slow, and passionate, and perfect as they kiss and move together between the sheets. 

They spend the night that way, melting together until the sun begins to rise. 

***

The next morning, Will sits at the breakfast table with his family like usual. Except, this time, he feels different. After last night, Will feels entirely changed. 

He sips at his juice and eyes his father, who is deliberately not making eye contact with Will. Will is still hurt that his father is upset with him, but he can’t help but feel a little untouchable after the hours he spent with Mike in bed. 

Jane sits beside him, picking at a grapefruit, when one of the resort activities coordinators starts to shout through a megaphone: “Singers, dancers, actors, this is your lucky day! Auditions for the annual Kellerman’s end of season talent show beginning in the play house.” 

Jane perks up just slightly, but she doesn’t say anything. Everyone at the table can sense that something is off with Jim, his mother glancing at him every now and then, so they’ve been eating in silence. 

That is, until Angela waltzes up to their table, a clipboard in hand. “So,” she says, perky as ever, “everyone auditioning for the show?”

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Will’s father answers gruffly, and Will stiffens slightly in his chair. “We want to miss the weekend traffic.”

“But Jim, we’re paid up until Sunday,” Will’s mother cuts in, looking at her husband, completely puzzled. 

“Daddy! And miss the show?” Jane adds, giving her best puppy dog eyes. 

“I said we’re leaving tomorrow,” his father says again, a little firmer. 

“But, Daddy, I was gonna sing in the show!” Jane protests, never one to back down from an argument. 

“Yeah, it’s the big event. People bring their own arrangements and everything. You won’t want to miss it,” Angela says. “Oh, Will, I need you for props,” she adds, before walking away from their table. 

“Jim, why would you want to leave early?” his mother asks. 

His father doesn’t say anything for a few moments, but Will knows the answer without him saying anything. He wants to take Will home, away from Kellerman’s… away from Mike, one of the best people Will’s ever met. Will stays resolutely silent. 

After another tense moment, Will can see the decision his father makes in the way his mouth twitches, and he says, “It was just an idea. We can stay if you want to.”

Jane sits up straighter, grinning and preening over the fact that she’s won him over. 

“So, Jane, what were you planning to sing?” their father asks, and Jane practically bounces out of her seat. 

“‘I Feel Pretty’,” she replies immediately. “Or ‘What Do the Simple Folk Do?’” 

Their father nods and stands from the table, walking away. Jane jumps up, following behind him. “Or ‘I Feel Pretty’! What do you think, Daddy?”

After breakfast, Will excuses himself and makes his way to Max’s cabin. He knocks before ducking inside. “Hi,” he says quietly. 

“Hi,” Max responds, lying in the bed, looking far better than she had been last night. 

Had it really been last night? Had Will and Mike danced at the Sheldrake only last night?

“You look much better,” he says, voicing his thoughts. His relief is obvious in his voice. 

Max smiles as Will approaches her bed. “You just missed your father. He’s such a wonderful man,” she says. 

“I’m sorry,” Will blurts. “I didn’t realize.” 

Even if Will isn’t the one who cut Max open with the dirty knife, he still feels responsible since he paid for the procedure. 

Max shakes her head vehemently, looking at him like he’s crazy, but her voice is soft when she says, “No, you couldn’t have. It’s okay.”

A moment later, there’s another knock at the door, and Mike pops his head into the room. “Hey,” he says, grinning at the sight of Max on the bed. 

Max’s responding smile is so radiant, almost as if she’s seeing Mike for the first time in years. “Mike,” she says, voice full of adoration. 

Mike closes the door behind himself and glances at Will, noticing him for the first time. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does Will. Mike hadn’t said anything, but Will is pretty sure he doesn’t want Max to know what happened between them last night. 

Last night… really just Mike’s simple presence in the same room as Will is enough to send his heart into a small frenzy. 

No one has ever touched Will the way Mike has. No one has held him so close, so gently, so lovingly. No one has ever made Will feel the way Mike made him feel last night. Only Mike—Will wants to have that again. 

Right now they’re in Max’s cabin, he reminds himself, and Mike seems to do the same. Mike turns back to Max. “So, how you doing?”

“I’m okay,” she says, glowing with happiness. “Dr. Byers says I’m gonna be fine. I can still have children.” 

Mike’s face softens the way Will feels his own heart soften. “Max, that’s great. That’s really great.”

Max looks between the two of them, then asks, “So, how’d it go last night?”

Again, Will is struck by the fact that their dance had been only last night. 

“Good,” Mike says.

“Fine,” Will adds. “I didn’t do the lift, but it was good.”

No one says anything else. The air is charged and awkward. Will doesn’t know how to act like he doesn’t want Mike all to himself anymore now that he’s had him. 

Unfortunately, Max seems to catch on to something in the air, because her smile falls slightly. 

Will coughs. “Well, I guess I… I guess I’m gonna go,” he says. “Bye.” He gives Mike one long look as he passes by and goes out the door. 

“See you,” Mike says, clearly trying to appear casual. 

It’s too late, though. Max already has it figured out. All it took was two minutes and she saw right through them.

As soon as Will is out the door, Mike tries to keep the conversation moving, so he says, “He says you’re gonna be fine, right?”

Max’s face is serious and she talks over him as he continues to ramble. “Mike, what are you doing? How many times you tell me to never get mixed up with them?”

Mike sighs, clenching his jaw. “I know what I’m doing, Max.”

Max sits up on her elbows, leaning closer to Mike, trying to prove how serious she is. “You listen to me. You’ve got to stop it. Now. ”

When Mike walks out the door, Will is sitting on the steps, waiting for him. Will stands when he hears Mike and leans back against the cabin wall.

Mike steps down the few stairs so he’s level with Will. “Look, um, I gotta run. I got a lesson with the Sinclairs in a few minutes. They’ll kill each other if I’m not there.”

Will just nods, staring up at Mike. “Well, sure, if you’ve gotta go.” Will keeps looking at him, almost hoping he can get Mike to stay with just his gaze.

Mike looks at him for a second, his eyes darting over Will’s face, before he says, “I’ll see you,” and walks away. 

Will just watches him, and he’s only taken a few steps before Will can’t handle the stilted tension between them anymore and he shouts, “Mike!”

Mike turns with a question on his face, but Will doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t necessarily have anything to say, but when Mike gives him a small smile, Will knows that was the answer he was looking for. 

Later that afternoon, Will is sitting in his cabin with his family as torrential rain falls outside. Will is silently doing a puzzle with his father, and Jane is getting all done up in the mirror. 

“God, I am so sick of this rain!” she complains for the thousandth time. Will agrees with her, for once, but he’s also sick of just sitting in awkward silence with his family, so he grabs his raincoat and heads for the door. 

“Will,” his mother stops him. “Where do you think you’re going in this rain?”

Will blinks, then easily lies, saying, “Oh, they’re having charades in the West Lobby.”

Will’s mother nods, and Will avoids the slightly dubious look on his father’s face. He also ignores Jane when she mocks, “Quite the little joiner, aren’t we?”

Will is most definitely not playing charades. He heads in the opposite direction of the main house, towards the staff quarters, and finds himself knocking at Mike’s door, much as he had just the night before. 

It’s still raining a few hours later when Mike and Will are lying together in Mike’s bed. The window shutters are cracked open, and the sound of the rain outside is romantic, in Will’s mind at least. 

Their skin is still bare where they’re pressed up against each other, Will’s head resting on Mike’s chest, Mike’s fingertips softly running up and down Will’s back.

Will tilts his back to look up at Mike, who gives him a soft smile. Will pushes forward to kiss Mike, no longer content with just lying with him. The hand that was caressing Will’s back stops and grabs hold at Will’s waist, hoisting him just slightly higher. 

They kiss, and they kiss, and then Mike is turning them around, pressing Will into the pillows, lips insistent against each other, and they make love again until dusk starts to settle and Will has to rejoin his family for dinner. 

***

One night, Will is lying in his own bed, much to his disappointment, almost falling asleep when his sister pipes up from her bed on the other side of the room. 

“I’ve decided to go all the way with Robbie,” Jane says, voice breaking through the gentle noise of crickets outside the window. 

Will immediately perks up and stares over at his sister, who is gazing at the ceiling, acting like she’s just having casual conversation. 

Will has seen her sneak off with Robbie a few times, but he didn’t think anything serious was going to come of it. Now that he knows the type of person Robbie is, what he did to Max… 

Will lifts his head off his pillow and replies, “Oh, no, Jane. No, not with someone like him.”

Jane doesn’t look at him. Her voice is teasing when she says, “Do you think if we came back here for our tenth anniversary, it would be free?” 

Will ignores her. “It’s just wrong this way. It should be with someone that… that you sort of love.” Will tries to focus on his sister, but he can’t help it when Mike’s face flashes in his mind. 

“Oh, come on,” Jane huffs, and, though he can’t see her, Will knows she’s rolling her eyes. “You don’t care about me. You wouldn’t care if I humped the entire army. As long as they’re on the right side of the Ho Chi Minh trail.

“What you care about is that you’re not daddy’s favorite anymore. He listens when I talk now, and you hate that.” She turns over to face the wall, clearly done talking to Will. 

Will sighs softly, not sure how to tell his sister that he does care about her, even if they rarely get along. He just rests his head back on his pillow and tries to fall asleep. 

***

The following afternoon is sweltering, and Will is in the dance studio with Mike, mostly just playing around. 

While they’re attempting to dance, Mike can’t seem to stop his hands from roaming, and he’s definitely not paying much attention to the routine.

Will doesn’t give in to his wandering touches, though. Instead, he imitates the instructions Mike had given Will when he had been learning the moves. 

When Mike’s hand slips from his back to his ass, Will reprimands, “Hey! My frame!” When Mike tries to loop Will in his arms, Will shouts, “Spaghetti arms!” When Mike’s knees bend and he starts to skim his mouth down Will’s chest, Will pushes him off, stating, “You’re invading my dance space.”

He does his best prissy impression of Mike before he had started to show Will any kindness. He forces Mike an arm’s length away and holds his own arms out in a V, motioning to the space in between. “This is my dance space,” Will says, then, motioning to Mike, who is rolling his eyes and pouting like a child, “and this is yours. Now let’s cha-cha.” 

They dance for only a few more beats before Mike is leaning down to press kisses into Will’s sternum again. Will grabs his chin and pulls it back up, forcing Mike to look at him. Mike’s eyes are warm and brown, and they look playful, even though Mike is pretending to mope. “Don’t look down,” Will scolds and points at his own eyes. “Look right here.”

Mike collapses to the floor, ever the drama queen, and Will just dances away from him. Mike rolls over onto his side, propping his head on his hand. He no doubt is trying to look sexy, and he’s doing a good job, in Will’s opinion. Will isn’t ready to give up his little game just yet, though. 

They playfully lip-sync the lyrics to the song playing out of the record player, Will still flitting around the room, teasing Mike. 

Mike gets onto his knees, and Will finally decides that he doesn’t want to keep his hands to himself anymore, so he gets down on his knees, as well. They start to crawl towards each other, meeting in the middle of the floor, still pretending to sing the song. 

Mike breaks out in a goofy air guitar for a few moments, and Will almost breaks character by laughing, but then Mike’s hands are winding around his hips, and they’re pulling together, connecting at the chest. 

Their lips ghost over each other as they slowly start to stand, still caught in their sensuous dance. They’re just about to kiss when—

“Mike!” 

Mike and Will spring apart at the sound of Angela’s shrill voice, and Will quickly pretends to be practicing a move on his own, looking at himself in the mirror, while Mike walks towards the record player. 

Will’s heart is absolutely jumping in his chest, worried that they’ve been caught. For a moment, Angela doesn’t say anything, and Will thinks they have been caught, but then she just smiles at Will and says, “Will! Taking dance lessons?” Will nods. “Good, then you’ll be ready to dance with me later.” 

Will has to fight not to cringe. 

Angela seems to remember why she came into the studio in the first place, approaching Mike at the record player. “Uh, Mike, my grandfather put me in charge of the final show. I want to talk to you about the last dance. I’d like to shake things up a bit.” 

Mike says nothing, just glances at Angela in vague confusion as he fiddles with the records. 

“You know, move with the times,” she adds, and Mike’s face lights up in excitement. 

“Yeah?” he asks, almost disbelieving. “I got a lot of ideas. I’ve been working with the staff on this, like, cross between a Cuban rhythm and a soul dance. It goes…” Mike stops his rambling to show a few steps.

Angela cuts him off, “Woah, woah, woah. Boy, you’re way over your head here.” Mike stops, looking slightly embarrassed. Angela continues, “I thought, you always do the mambo, and why not dance this year’s final dance to the pachanga.” She looks over at Will, grinning like she’s just proposed a cure for cancer. 

Mike doesn’t look embarrassed anymore, but irritated. His mouth is set in a hard line, and he replies tersely, “Right.” 

Angela glances at Will again, like they’re in on some joke together, and rolls her eyes at Mike. “Well, you could dance the same tired number as last year, if you want, but next year we’ll find a new dance person who would be so happy to—”

Mike cuts her off, “Sure, Angela. No problem. We’ll end the season with the pachanga. Great idea.” His voice is flat and betrays his irritation. 

Mike turns back to changing out the record as Angela approaches Will again. She says to Will, in a voice entirely loud enough for Mike to hear, “He can be hard to talk to, but the ladies like him. See that he’s giving you the full half hour that you’re paying for.”

She grins at Will before leaving, and Mike slams the lid on the record player before storming out of the studio. 

Will quickly follows him, trying to keep up with Mike’s long, angry strides as he grumbles about Angela. “That little wimp. She wouldn’t know a new idea if it hit her in the pachanga. You want some new ideas, I could’ve told him some new ideas.”

“Well then why did you let her talk to you that way?” Will counters, heart aching at the sight of Mike clearly so upset. 

“What do you mean? I’m supposed to fight the boss?”

“Yes! Tell her your ideas!”

“Look, I know these people, Will. They are rich, and they are mean. They won’t listen to me,” Mike says, voice bitter. 

“Then why not fight harder? Make them listen.”

“Because I need this goddamn job lined up for next summer.” Mike’s voice is becoming more breathless as he rants, but that doesn’t stop him. “You know, my dad calls me, and he says he has ‘good news.’ ‘Uncle Paul can finally get you in the union.’”

“Well, what union?”

“The house painters and plasterers local 179, at your service.” The anger and the shame are written so clearly across Mike’s face, and Will reaches his hand out to brush his arm. Mike turns away from him and keeps walking.

They’re walking along a path leading up the hill behind the main house, and the back entrances are visible from where they stand. Will hears a door open and a few familiar voices. He quickly grabs at Mike, pushing him down in a crouch.

Will’s father walks out of the door with his sister and Robbie, an arm slung over each, happily chatting. 

Will and Mike crouch on the ground together, watching the exchange as the trio walk away, towards the guest cabins. 

“I don’t think they saw us,” Will says softly. Mike’s jaw clenches, and he stands up, still silent. Will joins him, looking at Mike nervously. He feels shame color his cheeks pink as he watches the expression on Mike’s face. 

“‘Fight harder,’ huh?” he says. “I don’t see you fighting so hard, Will. I don’t see you running up to daddy and telling him that I’m your guy.” Mike’s expression is hard, but Will can tell that he’s hurt. 

“Look, I will. With my father, it’s complicated. I will tell him—”

“I don’t believe you, Will,” Mike cuts him off. “I don’t think that you ever had any intention of telling him. Ever” The hurt is so clear on Mike’s face now, and Will’s mouth is so dry. 

Mike turns away and continues walking towards the staff cabins, leaving Will standing in the middle of the path, fighting off guilty tears. Will watches him disappear behind the trees. 

Will needs to compose himself before he finds Mike again, not wanting to blubber in Mike’s face when he should be apologizing. He walks the other direction for a little while, wiping away a few tears and catching his breath before he turns around and walks back towards the staff cabins. 

There’s no answer when Will knocks at Mike’s cabin, so he goes over to Max’s. When he knocks, Max opens the door. 

“Have you seen Mike?” he asks. Max doesn’t say anything—she just opens the door a little wider so that Will can see Mike sitting on the edge of her bed. 

Mike stands up and walks up to the door, silent, then pushes his way past Max and Will onto the porch. Mike doesn’t face him, but he also doesn’t walk away. 

Will comes up behind him, running a hand over his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into the exposed skin of Mike’s shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss there. 

Just then, Robbie rounds the corner between two cabins. “Looks like I picked the wrong Byers,” he mocks, and Will can’t help himself when he retracts his hand from Mike, nervous of what else Robbie might say. It was admittedly a little bold to touch Mike so tenderly out in the open, but the only person around had been Max, and Will was feeling reckless with how badly he wanted Mike’s forgiveness. 

“That’s okay, Will. I went slumming, too,” Robbie says, looking smug. 

Mike pushes Will away from him gently before he jumps the railing of the porch and goes straight for Robbie. Max shouts at him to stop, but Mike already has Robbie by the collar of his shirt, slamming him on the ground and kicking him. He picks him up again and punches him, one, two, three times. 

Robbie tries to wrestle Mike to the ground, but Mike just pushes at him and mocks, pointing at his face, “Hit me. Hit me.” 

Robbie punches him once before Mike is on him again, tackling him to the ground. He has Robbie pinned, and he’s poised to punch him again, absolutely seething, when he stops. 

“Get out of here. You’re not worth it. You’re not worth it,” he says, stepping away from Robbie, trying to catch his breath. 

Robbie gets off the ground and scurries away as Mike turns to walk back over to the porch. Max just walks back inside, but Will presses against the railing. Mike comes to stand in front of him, but below him because he still stands on the ground. 

Mike is tall enough to rest his arms on the railing as he gazes up at Will. Will wants to reach out to comfort him, but he’s not sure if that’s what Mike wants him to do. 

Mike makes the choice for him. He wraps his arms around Will’s hips and presses his head against his stomach. Will’s arms immediately come around his neck, cradling Mike’s head against his stomach. 

He runs a soothing hand through Mike’s hair as he calms his breath, clinging to Will like a lifeline. 

***

A few days later, Angela finally collects Will to help with props for the talent show, as she had promised earlier that week. She brings him to the event room and hands him a paintbrush, instructing him to paint some of the prop trees for the background of the set. 

Will is only half paying attention to the tree he’s painting; the other half is dedicated to watching Mike moving around the room. Will’s not exactly sure what it is that Mike is preparing, but he can’t exactly walk up to him and ask him. 

Behind Will on the stage, Jane is practicing whatever random song it is she’s planning to sing for the show. She’s not an amazing singer, but Will supposes she makes up for that with her enthusiasm. 

The singing is loud and distracting, but Will has become good at tunneling all his focus onto Mike, so he notices immediately when Mrs. Pressman approaches him. Mrs. Pressman is one of the older women that’s always chasing Mike around and paying for “dance lessons” behind her husband’s back. 

Will had assumed Mike was having sex with them, and the one day it came up in a conversation between the two of them while they were lounging in bed, Will had tried not to betray his jealousy. Mike had only met Will a few weeks ago—he owed Will no loyalty then. 

Mike had explained to Will that, really, the women were using him for his body more than anything. He didn’t turn them down, because they were rich and not entirely unattractive, but Will could hear in his voice that he was ashamed and hurt. Will was the first person in a long time that has been interested in Mike for who he is, rather than just his body. 

Will knows that Mike feels no affection for these women, but he can’t help it when his posture tightens slightly as Mrs. Pressman walks up to Mike and murmurs something close to his ear. 

Will is only barely swiping his paintbrush over the tree as he watches Mrs. Pressman walk back over to where her husband sits, playing cards at one of the tables in the room. He quickly turns back to painting when he sees Mike glance over at him, not wanting him to see the way he had been staring. 

Mike walks over to Mr. Pressman, hands him a prop, and says something to which Mr. Pressman nods. 

“Thanks,” he says, and his voice is loud enough that Will can hear him over on the stage. “Hey, kid, you know I play cards all weekend. I’ve got an all night game tonight, so why don’t you give my wife some extra dance lessons.” 

He tucks a few bills into Mike’s hand, and Mrs. Pressman gazes at him, throwing him a wink. Will feels his stomach drop. 

Mike just stands there, looking at the money in his hand for a minute, before he says, “Um… I’m sorry, Mr. Pressman, but I’m booked up the whole weekend, you know, with the show and everything, so I won’t have time for anything else. I don’t think it would be fair to take the money.” 

He hands the money back to Mr. Pressman, and he takes it with an agreeable nod. Mrs. Pressman’s face drops into a scowl, surely not able to believe that Mike would turn her down. 

Will’s heart swells at this, wishing he could run over to Mike and kiss him right in front of everyone, but he knows he can’t. 

Mike had turned her down because he’s with Will now, and Will is thrilled by this subtle confirmation that Mike feels the same as Will does. 

He’s interrupted from his unabashed staring at Mike when Jane, who has apparently finished her song, walks up and crouches behind him. Will is only slightly startled by her sudden proximity, but he turns to face her. 

She smirks, “I’ve decided that tonight’s the night with Robbie. He doesn’t even know yet.” She grins and stands back up, walking towards the door. 

“Oh, hey, Jane!” he calls, trying to get her to stop, so maybe he can tell her what he was thinking about in bed the other night, but she just keeps walking. 

Jane wasn’t about to listen to her brother—she knows he’s always thought she’s better than her, and she’s glad to finally have something to dangle in front of his face. 

As the sun starts to set, she puts on one of her nicest dresses and touches up her makeup before waltzing over to the staff cabins, to Robbie’s cabin. 

She stops in front of his door, smooths her dress, and knocks on the door. “Robbie,” she coos. “It’s me.” 

When she doesn’t get a response, she pushes on the door, which isn’t fully latched. Excited to surprise him, she swings the door open with a grin on her face. 

Her face promptly falls when she sees Robbie in bed with another woman on top of him. This woman is Mrs. Pressman, though Jane doesn’t know it. 

“Holy shit,” Robbie says as his head whips around to look at Jane. Her mouth drops open in disgust, and she slowly closes the door and wordlessly walks back to her cabin. 

***

In the early hours of the next morning, Will and Mike are lying in bed again, bare skin pressed together as they sleepily gaze up at the ceiling. Will has his forehead pressed against Mike’s cheekbone, and Mike has his arm around Will’s shoulders, gently stroking his neck.

It’s quiet, and the sun has barely risen. Mike murmurs quietly, “You want to hear something crazy?” Will just hums in response. “Last night, I dreamt that we were walking along, and we met your father, and he said, 'Come on,' and put his arm around me, just like he did with Robbie.”

Will’s heart aches for him. He turns and presses a gentle kiss into Mike’s jawbone, wrapping his arm tighter around his middle. 

***

At breakfast, Mr. Kellerman and Angela have joined Will’s family at their table. 

Mr. Kellerman is a chatterbox, and Will has just been politely listening, until he says something that catches his attention. 

“You know how sometimes you might see a patient, and you think to yourself, ‘Well, he’s alright,’ but then you look at the X-rays and it’s nothing like you thought. It’s exactly what it’s like when you find out one of your staff’s a thief.”

Will faintly hopes that it’s Robbie he’s talking about. 

“What happened?” Will’s father asks.

“Moe Pressman’s wallet was stolen while he was playing pinochle last night. It was in his jacket, hanging on the back of his chair. He had it at 1:30, and when he checked again at quarter-to-four, it was missing,” Angela says conspiratorially, clearly pleased to be in on the scandal. 

Kellerman continues, “His wife thinks she saw this dance kid, Mike, walking by.” 

Will’s stomach drops and his head jerks to look at Mr. Kellerman. 

“So we ask him, ‘Do you have an alibi for last night?’ He says he was alone in his room, reading.”

Angela laughs, “There are no books in Mike’s room.”

Will’s mind is racing, and he turns to Angela and says, “There’s been a mistake. I know Mike didn’t do it.”

“There’s been similar thefts at the Sheldrake, and it’s happened here before—three other wallets!” Angela says, laying a placating hand over Will’s shoulder. 

“I know he didn’t do it,” Will insists. 

“Just stay out of it, Will,” Angela says, her voice dismissive. 

Kellerman leaves the table for a minute to go scold some of his employees, and Will scoots into the chair next to his father. He’s still been giving Will the silent treatment, but he needs his father to help him prove that Mike is innocent. 

“Dad, I need your help. I know Mike didn’t take Mr. Pressman’s wallet—I know ,” he pleads. 

“How do you know?” his father looks at least a little concerned, even though they’re talking about Mike.

Will falters for a second. “I can’t tell you, but just please trust me!” Will’s father is already sighing and turning away from him, and Will is feeling desperate. 

“I’m sorry, Will, but I can’t,” he says, refusing to look Will in the face. 

Mr. Kellerman comes back to the table, and Will immediately turns to him and says, “Mr. Kellerman, look… maybe Mike didn’t do it. Anyone could have taken it. Maybe it was, um, maybe it was that old couple, the Schumachers! I saw her with a couple of wallets.” 

It’s actually not untrue when he thinks about it. He had helped her pick up her purse not that long ago, and she had more wallets than one person needs. 

Kellerman almost laughs, and asks, “Sylvia and Sidney?”

Will’s father gives him a harsh look and scolds, “Will, you don’t go around accusing innocent people.” 

“Yeah, but I saw them! I even saw them at the Sheldrake.” He turns to Angela and asks, “Didn’t you say something was stolen at the Sheldrake?”

No one at the table seems to care about Will’s desperation, and Kellerman says in an even voice, “I got an eyewitness, and the kid has no alibi.” He looks over at Angela, “Come on, Angela. You’ll learn what it’s like to fire an employee.” 

Will has tried not to admit to being with Mike, but he won’t let Mike go down just because he’s keeping Will’s secret for him. 

Will bites the bullet, “Mr. Kellerman, wait a minute. I know Mike didn’t take the wallet. I know he didn’t take it because he was in his room all night, and the reason I know is… because I was with him.” 

Will can hardly bear to look at his father’s disappointed expression. Kellerman doesn’t seem convinced, but he at least doesn’t take Angela over to fire Mike right that minute. The rest of breakfast is quick and incredibly awkward. Will’s father doesn’t finish his breakfast before he’s up out of his seat and walking out of the dining room. 

Will waits just a little while before he goes in search of him. He finds him in the gazebo overlooking the lake, sulking in a chair and staring out at the water. 

Will silently walks up to him, already feeling emotion tightening his throat. He stands in front of his father, who steadfastly ignores him, and says, “I told you I was telling the truth. I’m sorry I lied to you. But you lied, too.

“You told me everyone was alike and deserved a fair break, but you meant everyone who’s like you. You told me you wanted me to change the world, make it better, but you meant by becoming a lawyer, or an economist, and marrying someone from Harvard. I’m not proud of myself, but I’m in this family, too, and you can’t keep giving me the silent treatment.”

The tears start to well up in Will’s eyes, but he keeps going, “There are a lot of things about me that aren’t what you thought. But if you love me, you have to love all the things about me. And I love you.” 

Will is crying in earnest now, “I’m sorry I let you down. I’m so sorry, dad, but you let me down too.” 

Having spoken his mind, Will walks away, unable to keep looking at his father’s stoic expression as tears roll down his cheeks. 

Will doesn’t know where else to go, so he goes to Mike’s cabin. Mike isn’t there right now, he’s off working, but Will lets himself in anyway. He lies down on Mike’s bed and cries a little longer before drifting off. 

He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep when Mike shakes him awake. Will blinks the sleep out of his eyes.

“I have been looking for you all over,” Mike says, his voice subtly relieved. “They found the Schumachers. They fingerprinted their water glasses. It turns out they’re wanted in Arizona and Florida, and they made a fortune here this summer.”

Will sits up, heart soaring. “So, so then it’s all right,” he says, a grin pulling at his face, still tacky with tears. “I knew it would work out. I knew they’d have to apologize.” 

Will stands up to pull Mike into a hug, but Mike cuts him off. “I’m out, Will.”

Will’s face immediately drops, and he feels almost sick with how angry he is. “They fired you anyway because of me.”

“And if I leave quietly, I’ll get my summer bonus,” Mike says, his tone mocking. 

Will feels tears of frustration welling up in his eyes again, and he wishes there was something he could break.

“So I did it for nothing. I hurt my family, you lost your job anyway,” Will rants, starting to pace around in his fury. “I did it for nothing !”

“No, not for nothing, Will,” Mike shouts back. “Nobody has ever done anything like that for me before.”

Will is not feeling sentimental, though. He feels nothing but bitter, everything he thought he knew about the world crumbling to pieces around him. “You were right, Mike,” he says bitterly. “You can’t win no matter what you do.”

“You listen to me. I don’t wanna hear that from you. You can ,” Mike says, voice firm as he walks up to where Will has stopped pacing on the other side of the room. 

“I used to think so,” Will says, some of the anger draining from his voice, leaving him sounding just sad. 

***

Mike has to leave today, as he’s been dismissed effective immediately, but he can’t leave before he makes one final stop. 

That’s how he finds himself in front of the door to the Byers’s cabin, jacket on and almost ready to go. He needs to talk to Will’s dad. He’s not exactly sure why, but he knows he can’t leave before he does. 

He knocks, feeling nervous in a way he rarely does. Dr. Byers opens the door, and Mike quickly braces himself to say what he needs to say. 

“Dr. Byers, could I um… Look. I’m going anyway. I know what you must be thinking—”

Will’s father cuts him off, “You don’t know anything about me. Anything at all.”

“I know you want Will to be like you, you know, the kind of person that does things that make other people look up to them. Dr. Byers, Will is like that, if you could just—”

Jim cuts him off again, “Don’t you tell me what to see. I see someone in front of me who got his partner in trouble and sent her off to some butcher while he moved on to an innocent young boy like my son.”

The words feel like a punch to the gut, and Mike resigns himself to the fact that Will’s father will never see him the way he wants him to.

“Yeah, I guess that’s what you would see,” he says quietly before walking away. 

***

Will watches as Mike packs the last of his things into his car and closes the trunk. Will leans against the hood of the car, and Mike walks up to him, scuffing his feet just slightly, clearly not knowing how to say goodbye. 

Will shakes his head, “I can’t imagine me being here without you even one day.”

“Nah, I just think you’ll have more time for horseshoes and croquet,” Mike teases, and they both laugh quietly, trying to soften the blow of Mike having to leave. 

Will puts his hands against Mike’s ribcage and rests the top of his head against Mike’s chest. He runs his hands over his torso, savoring the feeling of touching Mike’s body one last time. He feels Mike kiss the top of his head. 

“I’ll never be sorry,” Mike says, running his hands up and down Will’s arms. 

Will looks up at him. “Neither will I.”

Mike cradles Will’s jaw in his hands and pulls him in for one final kiss—a long press of their lips together, trying to communicate how they feel for each other in one more touch. 

Mike pulls away and looks at Will. “I’ll see ya,” Mike says, before walking around to the driver’s side. Will watches as his car disappears behind the dust of the gravel road, rounding the corner and vanishing into the trees, and he hopes Mike is right. 

***

Will spends the rest of his afternoon moping around, feeling heartbroken and daydreaming about how he and Mike will find each other after Will’s family leaves for the summer. 

When it nears dinner time, Will pulls on his fancy outfit to watch tonight’s talent show, and as he’s pulling on his socks, Jane walks into the room. 

She sits next to him, and runs a hand over the top of his head. “Will?” she says, her voice kinder than Will has heard in a long time. Her hand moves to smooth over the collar of Will’s shirt. “I’ll help you style your hair,” she offers. “It’s getting long, so we could do something nice to push it out of your face.” 

Her hand trails gently through the bangs that hang at his temple, pushing them back slightly. She smiles at him, and Will feels love for his sister ballooning in his chest. She pulls him into a one-armed hug, and he rests his head on her shoulder. They sit together like that for a few moments, Jane’s fingers still tousling Will’s hair. 

***

Will’s family is sitting all together at a table in the event room, pressed into a corner against the wall. The show is nearing its end, and several of the resort staff and other performers are singing a rehearsed number to close out the season. 

Jane is on the stage with them, having been included in the show, and she steps forward for a short solo. Will finds himself smiling at her slightly out of tune singing and her cheesy dancing. 

Robbie passes by Will’s table, and Will’s father stands up to follow him. “Robbie,” he says, getting his attention. Robbie turns and Will’s father pulls a letter from his jacket pocket. “Good luck in medical school.” 

A letter of recommendation from Will’s father would be invaluable for any medical school application, and it’s clear that Robbie knows this, his face lighting up as he accepts the letter. 

“Thank you,” he says. “And I wanted to thank you for your help with the Max situation. I guess we’ve all gotten into messes like these.”

Jim’s face falls. “What?”

“I thought Will told you. Look, I’m not sure, I mean, Max said so, but you know with girls like that! They’re liable to pin it on any guy around.” 

Will’s father snatches the letter back from Robbie’s hand and walks back to the table, disgust clear on his face. 

Will is watching the song with a bittersweet feeling, wishing Mike were here. 

He doesn’t notice when Mike walks in the door at the back of the event hall until he’s standing right in front of their table. 

Will’s eyes catch on him, and he gasps just slightly, sitting up straighter in his chair. 

“Nobody puts Will in a corner,” Mike says, reaching for Will’s hand. “Come on.”

Will’s father stands as Mike tugs Will away from the table, but Will sees his mother press a hand against his chest, forcing him back into his seat. 

Mike pulls Will towards the stage, seemingly not caring if anyone sees their hands joined together. Will doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s happy to go anywhere with Mike. 

Mike walks the two of them right up onto the stage, interrupting the musical number still being sung. The singing slowly peters out, and the audience looks around in confusion. 

“Sorry for the disruption, folks,” Mike says into the microphone, “but I always do the last dance of the season. This year, somebody told me not to do it. So I’m gonna do my kind of dancing with a great partner, who’s not only a terrific dancer, but somebody who’s taught me that there are people that are willing to stand up for other people no matter what it costs them.”

Will is staring at Mike, awestruck, and Mike turns to glance at him before he continues, “Somebody who has taught me about the kind of person I want to be: Mr. Will Byers.”

Will’s father stands at their table again in indignation, but Joyce snaps at him, “Sit down, Jim.”

Mike leaves Will on the stage as he grabs the microphone and moves it off-stage. Mike sheds his jacket, and Dustin fumbles with a record in the record player. 

The music starts: Now I’ve had the time of my life, and I’ve never felt this way before…

Will should be terrified, he should be running off the stage screaming at the mere thought of this many people seeing him dancing with another man, but as he gazes over at Mike, he can think of nothing but his overwhelming affection for the man in front of him. 

Mike walks slowly out to where Will stands in the spotlight, crooking a finger at him and beckoning him over. 

Will is easily pulled in Mike’s direction until they’re face to face, arms around each other, and the only thing Will can see is Mike’s face, his soft, brown eyes. 

Mike turns Will and stands behind him, pulling his arm up and over his head, caressing Will’s torso—the first move in their dance. The crowd is murmuring in excitement, and then Mike is spinning Will out as the bass picks up. 

Then, they’re dancing. Some people in the crowd cheer, and Will is overwhelmed with relief that no one is chasing them off the stage with a bat. 

Will barely has to think about the steps as they dance, feeling nothing but confidence and what feels like love as he stares into Mike’s eyes. Mike is smirking at him, twisting Will in and out of his arms. 

You’re the one thing I can’t get enough of…

Their bodies move together so flawlessly. Will feels like he’s been dancing all his life with how easily and fluidly the moves come to him. His movements don’t feel jerky the way they had at the Sheldrake. Now, he feels loose and limber and free. 

This could be love…

Mike pulls Will back into his body, and they have only a moment to gaze at each other, mouths so close they breathe each other’s air, and again, Will is relieved that the crowd is cheering. 

Will lets Mike lead, always willing to follow where he goes, and Mike pulls Will up close to him more often than usual in their routine. This is a far less rigid version of their mambo—this is more passionate and intimate. 

Mike had said he would be dancing his way, and Will is content to get as close to Mike as he can. 

Mike lifts and twirls him before he’s kissing Will’s knuckles and jumping off the stage into the open aisle between the rows of chairs. Will throws his head back in laughter, and Mike tosses a grin at him over his shoulder. 

The other dancers from the resort are cheering the loudest, all standing together at the back of the room. Will spots Max among them, screaming and jumping. 

Will’s eyes are drawn back to Mike as he swaggers his way down the aisle, bopping his head. He shows off more of his skill, sliding on his knees and letting the music pulse through his body. He’s so clearly comfortable in the spotlight, and Will is lovestruck.

Mike dances into the crowd of the other dancers, and when he turns, they follow behind him, following his lead. It’s so clear that they’ve all been dying to dance this freely as they twirl and shake and move. 

Mike’s eyes meet Will’s, and he nods at Will in question. Will knows immediately what he’s asking, and nods back, a grin splitting his face wide. 

Some of the other dancers rush forward to the stage and help Will down. Will only has to take one breath before he’s dashing towards Mike’s waiting arms. 

In one fluid motion, Mike is lifting Will over his head, and Will’s body is perfectly rigid, his arms stretched wide. He’s doing the lift. He’s doing the lift . He doesn’t know if he’s ever felt so exhilarated in his life. 

Mike lowers him back into his arms, and Will wraps his own arms tightly around Mike’s neck, giggling into Mike’s neck. Mike squeezes him once before setting him down, and they continue to dance. 

In the corner of the room, Jane is dancing in her chair as she watches her brother dance, almost as excited about it as Will himself is. Will’s mother is grinning, and even Will’s father has the ghost of a disbelieving smile on his face. 

The other dancers start to pull people from the audience out of their chairs, encouraging them to dance, too. Jane immediately jumps into the mix, and so does Joyce. Will even catches a glimpse of two old women grasping each others’ hands and grinning as they dance. 

In all the excitement, Mike starts to pull Will away and towards the door at the back of the room, but Will’s father stops them at the threshold. 

For a second, Will is nervous, but then his father is saying to Mike, “I know you weren’t the one who got Max in trouble.”

“Yeah,” Mike says with a nod.

“When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong,” he says, then he turns his attention to Will. 

Will is nervous again, never being so open about his affection for another man in front of him, but Jim smiles and says, “You looked wonderful up there.” 

Will grins and throws his arms around his father’s neck in a tight embrace.

The party is in full swing now, everyone from Max to Kellerman out on the dance floor. Will even spots Dustin trying to teach Jane how to dance, though her movements are stilted and somewhat awkward. 

Will pulls Mike back into the crowd, and they find themselves in the middle of it all, dancing and grinning at each other. Will doesn’t know if he’s ever smiled this much in his life. 

Will stares into Mike’s eyes, and Mike starts to lip-sync to the song, reminiscent of their banter from the other day. 

Now I’ve had the time of my life, no I’ve never felt this way before…  

Will just sways and watches Mike, hands coming to grip at the back of his neck, threading through the hair at the bottom of his scalp. 

Yes, I swear it’s the truth, and I owe it all to you!

Will laughs at Mike’s antics, and they gaze at each other for another few long moments. Their faces draw slowly closer, and closer, until their lips meet in the middle. 

They grip each other tightly, and they kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss. Right in the middle of the dance floor, they kiss each other. 

They pull apart, and Mike ruffles the hair at the back of Will’s head before he grabs him underneath his armpits and lifts him off the ground. Will laughs as he hangs there like a ragdoll, allowing Mike to hold him high above the ground before lowering him again into another quick kiss. 

Things may not always be so easy, so judgment-free, so flawless, but Will and Mike let themselves have this moment, this night, and they dance.