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Will had tried talking himself out of this multiple times between when Vecna/Henry/001 (he can thank Robin for that mouthful) had first hinted that he’d use something about Will against himself. Because Vecna had access into the recesses of his mind, Will didn’t doubt that yes, it was very much possible that there was information of the sensitive sort that would either throw off the team as a whole or Will specifically enough to fumble the plan Steve had formulated. After that particular show of genius, Will had to bite his words about Robin trusting Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington with her sexuality.
Needless to say, Will only had two truly disarming secrets: being gay and, like the cliche he truly was, in love with his best friend.
The former of these he’d kept in the back of his mind (probably where Vecna also resided and why it hadn’t been all that difficult for him to find) and the latter which he’d only really realised halfway through the painting he’d worked on for said best friend. There had been no straight, ‘normal’, best friend explanation for how he knew the angle Mike’s hair curled at or the frequency of freckles on his cheeks in proportion to those over his nose. So now he was left with the need to tell at least someone who he knew wouldn't worry too much and/or judge him.
The opportunity arose when everyone was outside WSQK, presumably helping Murray load up the track before they were due to drive straight into a heavily armed military base whilst Will leaned against the liminal space between the kitchen and living room, biting his thumbnail to the quick. He knew his mother and brother were on the couch only a couple steps away, fretting yet well meaning in their slight panic.
It was understandable, both he and El were expected to come within close range of Vecna himself, and Will himself knew he had to access the hive mind if they had any way of keeping the demodogs at bay.
Without thinking about it as much as he had been, Will walked back into the room loudly enough, shoes scuffing slightly on the linoleum, giving his mother and brother enough time to at least shift topics and lay off worrying about his safety. Granted, his mother had gotten much better at allowing him to tell her his own limits rather than presuming he was incapable of handling himself.
Jonathan was the more subtle of the two, leaning back into the couch with an arm propped onto the armrest with a mug of tea already raised at his lips. Joyce, however, was still mostly on the edge of her seat, elbows on her knees as she allowed her interlaced fingers to prop her chin up.
Clearly, he might as well just take the time he had to finally not feel as alone as he was. He’d asked Robin to explain her own revelation with Steve but that didn’t help at all. He’d rather not have to take any sort of mind altering drugs pre- hopefully saving the world.
Both looking up as he walked in, Will smiled in assurance and took a seat on the empty loveseat perpendicular to theirs, angling himself to face them as he pulled his legs up onto the worn leather, tilting them to one side so as to maintain eye contact. He might have been shitting bricks not a half hour ago but he was going to do this properly. No wishy washy nonsense.
“Mom, Jonathan, I… have something to tell you guys,” he, admittedly, slightly mumbled. He realised it was much harder to maintain eye contact without making his face look like he was in the process of pulling teeth, so he dipped his eyes down before looking back at his mom and brother.
“Will, if you don’t think you can do this, that's completely alright. Everyone should realise it’s too much pressure to have the mission riding mostly on you and El,” his mother started.
Jonathan, who’d been nodding along in agreement, spoke up with his own. “‘Sides, I’m sure we could think of something else. Your friends were pretty good with those molotovs at Starcourt a few years back. We could use those instead of having you do all that with the freaky vine shit again.”
Will snorts, and before he can get a word in, a voice cuts in. “They were fireworks, Byers, thank you very much. And quit giving them all the credit, I came up with that.”
Lucas scoffed in mild offense, walking towards a corner of cardboard boxes, already shuffling the contents around before pulling out two pistols, checking the mag and safety before sitting back up. “Anyway, what were you all talking about?”
Will considered it, this was Lucas, who he’d known since he was in elementary school. He figured it only made sense to tell him too. So after waving him over, Lucas took a seat on the rickety wooden table opposite Will, hands propped against the edge for stability, pistols held in each hand, and if it were anyone else, holding loaded guns less than a metre from him, Will would be terrified.
“You can know too, Lucas, probably should actually–”
“Lucas should know what? Didn’t know you started playing favourites, Will,” Dustin interjected, already grinning at him, hand on hip like a middle aged suburban mother realising her husband had fallen asleep on the couch again (yes, he had that image from many nights spent at the Wheeler’s).
“And if he did, it’d be me, right Will?” Mike was following behind Dustin, looking parched as he used the hem of his shirt to wipe at the sweat behind his neck. Will made sure to look steadfastly at the floor while this happened.
“I’m not playing favourites smartasses,” Will stalled, mind already whirring as he tried to figure out how he was going about this, There was no use deflecting when it concerned people he'd known for going on a decade. Will resigned himself to the choices at hand, kick out only Mike or even Mike and Dustin and hurt their feelings, or tell everyone present and make sure he worded his confession in a way that allowed him to keep the whole reason he’d realised he was gay vague and ambiguous enough that the party wouldn’t catch on.
“You two should sit down for this,” he sighed, already exasperated, not even able to get a word out concerning the touchy topic he planned to broach. WIth Mike and Dustin now sat on the table either side of Lucas, Will breathed in for what he hoped was the final time, free of interruption before he started.
“You all know I can siphon off Vecna’s powers, what with the whole being a wizard,” barely a full sentence in before Mike muttered “sorcerer, or maybe even warlock” underneath his breath. Will rolled his eyes in his direction, lips quirking up because trust Mike Wheeler to bother with semantics. “Point is, he can also… get in my head. It doesn’t hurt or anything but he can show me things. Possibilities, outcomes, consequences. I know he can’t exactly tell the future but his… predictions are real, to me at least. And I don't want the possibility of something terrible to get in our way, especially when I can get it out of the way myself.”
His throat closed up slightly, recalling how alone he’d looked when Vecna confronted him with the consequences of his own self, and how it had felt to know that something about himself could maybe cause such contempt and distance to grow between people he adored and vice versa. Because he knew what it was like to feel your own self turning against you, like something foreign you couldn’t describe and no one could understand had taken a hold of you. Robin had told him it would get better the more he came to terms with himself, but these people mattered, and it mattered to him that they knew him in all his flaws and intricacies without the judgement he’d come to expect from Troy or his dad or even the general gossip of Hawkins following his return from the Upside Down.
“I’m like you all, but I’m also not.” He looked to his mother first, “Mom, I'm like you in the way I create, you with your theatre performances and me with my art. Or you Jonathan, with our taste in music.” His older brother grinned at that, no doubt remembering the hours they stayed up listening to anything from The Clash and Bowie to the Sex Pistols which Jonathan had to hide well enough lest his mother throw a fit when she found him letting a twelve year old Will nod along to the punk rock band.
“I’ve known for a while that I’m gay, thought over it a lot and while I’m sure the rumours didn’t help, I’m finally okay with it now and I-I hope you all are too.”
His mother, who's the closest to him, reaches her hand out and holds his hand in both of hers, watery smile and something a bit like guilt. “I tried not to let those old bastards–”
“Mom! Language.” Jonathan chides, his eyes meeting Will’s as he indicates with his head to their mother, no doubt sharing in her indignation but leaving it to her while he mutters a brotherly “you’ve set her off now”.
“What Jonathan! You know those good for nothings had it coming. Commenting on a child like a couple of bored old housewives. Saying all kinds of awful things that don't concern them to forget about their failing marriages and lawless children.”
“No offense Miss Byers, but we’re all going against the law by breaking into a military protected government base.”
“Yes, well, that’s a lot more different, son, it actually concerns us,” she directed at Dustin. At that Will let his eyes drift to Dustin who raised a brow at him.
“What, you think I’ll let myself have anything in common with Troy? I’d rather wrestle Suzie’s dad,” Dustin said, kicking his shin lightly in camaraderie. “You’ll always be the guy who gives me the flake off of your milkshake, and who you like or don’t has nothing to do with it.”
“I’m not letting Dustin outperform me, so get your ass up Byers so I can hug you properly,” Lucas said, already rising then pulling Will against him, arms wrapping around each other. And it was this, the feeling that nothing had changed but everything was somehow better, calmer, that had Will finally grinning ear to ear as he finally pulled away before Lucas’s sweat from only just coming back inside from whatever hard manual labour Murray had them doing seeped into his own clothes.
Over Lucas’ shoulder, Will let his eyes finally rest on Mike, who so far hadn’t reacted in any particular way. Will had initially decided that not shouting was a good enough reaction, but he’d be lying if he said that the boy he considered being his best friend remaining silent for so long didn’t raise alarm. A feeling a lot like the goosebumps he got whenever he’d felt the Mind Flayer was near settled in his ribs, somewhere above his stomach.
When both he and Lucas settled into their respective seats once again, Mike was still staring at the floor, fingers laced between his knees like was contemplating the secrets of the universe.
Will instinctively looked to Jonathan, giving him the ‘what do I say’ look they often used when one of them was in trouble and the other was being confronted by their mother. His older brother winked at him before clapping his hands, putting a stop to Dustin and Lucas’ argument over who was more boyfriend material before they got Will involved, which would be painful for everyone involved.
“So, I think we’ve been here long enough, and no one wants Murray to be pissy about no one helping before we hit the road so I say we go make sure everything’s good before he comes in here and drags us out himself. Agreed?”
Jonathan nodded, satisfied at the confirmations before getting up himself and leading everyone else out, a hand on their mother’s shoulder. Before everyone disappeared from his line of sight and out the door, Lucas looked over his shoulder and mouthed a less than subtle ‘don’t be too hard on him, he’s a bit slow sometimes’ that Mike would’ve heard if he wasn’t still in whatever trance had possessed him. Will was about to worry that Mike was on the brink of blowing up on him or revealing he was actually Vecna and this was all a figment of his imagination before Mike whispered something.
“Speak up Mike, I didn’t get that.” Will said lightly, leaning forward on his couch.
“How did you know?”
“That I was gay or that Vecna might use it against me?”
“First one, obviously. You already explained the second one, idiot,” Mike grinned, and Will finally felt like whatever tense spell was over them had been broken. Will contemplated his answer for a second, deciding he’d been honest thus far and may as well keep it up.
“I’d always known there was something off. Lonnie always used to call me queer and just… y’know stuff like that. Except it never really just felt like an insult. It always felt like he could see something he shouldn’t, or something I could but didn't really know how to put a name to. I mean obviously now I know he didn't have some sort of x-ray vision that let him know I was never interested in girls. He just knew I liked to draw, never wanted to play baseball with him and liked hanging around mom or helping her cook and thought that all meant I was ‘some sort of queer.’ But back then I felt sort of out of place. It only got worse when I realised that it wasn't just Lonnie who thought that but also Troy. He was a kid and I thought ‘well if he also thinks I'm wrong and he’s a kid like me then he must be right.’ It was only when I’d moved away from Hawkins, a place where I could start somewhere without having everyone I'd grown up tell me what I was, that I realised what was different about me and why I never wanted to name it. Before, it had meant being weird, odd, abnormal, but then I realised it only meant that to all the people I didn't care about, who already hated me for other reasons besides maybe liking guys.”
“So that was it? Getting away from everything cleared your head enough?”
“No, that just helped me not see it as something to be terrified of. I mean, I'm still scared of course, a lot less so now that I've told you all, but I was really sold when Courtney kissed me after she told me she didn't like walking home in heels after some awards ceremony and I'd walked her home.”
Mike balked. “You had your first kiss and didn’t tell any of us?”
“It wasn’t exactly the best experience, Mike. She tried–hitting on me, I guess? The Monday after, I think I offended her when I gave her a… not so great look. In my defense it made me think of that horrible kiss.Trust me I would’ve told you all if it didn’t mean explaining why I didn't take her on a date after or why i didnt like it at all and told her my mom needed me home early for a dinner with ‘her boyfriend’.”
“That’s pretty fair.”
“Well now you know, so why’d you ask? Any potentially gay friends of yours I should know about?”
Mike flushed at that.
“Have you ever actually kissed a guy? Not that I think you're like, confused or anything, it’s just like, you should be allowed to without worrying about having the information on the front page the next day.”
Will grinned, endeared by Mike’s question. “Why, you offering, Wheeler?”
Mike had a face like a deer in headlights. “I-I mean if you wanted to.”
Will did consider it. Like he’d be stupid not to consider the boy in front of him when Mike’s the reason Will was here in the first place.
“Thanks, but I'll have to pass,” he mutters softly but clearly.
Mike’s face looked stuck between being offended and confused.
“Why not? Am I just not your type or something?” he joked, placing his arms on Will’s knees, looking up at him from the place he’d taken on the ground.
In the spirit of his continued honesty, he sighed.
“Quite the opposite, you’re just my type.”
“Perfect, so what are you scrunching your brows over,” Mike questioned, leaning forward to smooth the furrow between Will’s brow with the press of an index finger.
“If you kiss me, you’re just helping out a friend. If I kiss you back I’m indulging in something I've wanted seriously for years.”
"Of course you'd want to kiss a guy, that's the whole point here.”
“You’re not getting it, Mike.”
“Then explain it to me!”
“You’re why I knew I didn't want to kiss Courtney, because after I went home, I spent the weekend in my room, with Jonathan’s new Bowie album on repeat wishing she’d been you.”
Mike’s eyes widened, mouth blissfully shut so Will could halt all his previous ideas of ways to get him to stop talking.
“Why me,” he muttered.
“Because it's you,” Will breathed, resigned.
Mike looked up at him then, through his eye lashes as he rose to stand on his knees, “Will, I’m about to do something, and if you hate it, there’s no hard feelings for pushing me into that shitty table.”
Will tilted his head, about to respond with the most puzzled ‘sure’ of his life before Mike Wheeler reached up and pulled Will’s lips to his own.
It wasn’t until Mike, the same Mike he’s been enamoured with for the last five years knowingly and seven more before that, ran his tongue tentatively along the seam that Will realised he wanted very much to be a reciprocating party in this. Deepening their kiss meant Mike took that as permission enough to rise from his place on the ground, which likely had his knees aching as much as Will’s neck, and slide into place on top of Will, his previously sore knees now resting on either side of Will’s thighs.
Mike hummed in agreement, winding his arms around Will’s shoulders while the latter tangled his fingers in short, loose black curls.
Pulling away for air, Mike grinned, “I was more asking for myself by the way. Pretty sure I figured it out though.”
“Yeah, I’ll need more than that, Mike Wheeler. We’re talking about this.”
“Mhm yeah, after.”
“After,” Will nodded, already reconnecting their lips, wrapping themselves back around each other.
“Hey slackers, that’s enough time for a heart to heart Murray is whining about getting things done faster with–nevermind, as you were, gentlemen,” Lucas salutes awkwardly, looking suspiciously non-pulsed for someone who’d walked in on his best friends making out.
“You heard the man, Byers, I’m simply compelled to follow orders,” Mike teases, saluting back at Lucas’s already retreating form.
“Why are you like this?” Will sighs dramatically.
“Only with you,” Mike winks, and Will knows he’s done for when he finds it endearing rather than ridiculous.
Well, maybe it’s still a little ridiculous.