serendipitouswasteland

[serendipitouswasteland]

Two-Stepping Into You

ship: buddie pov: third person (see author's note) written: April 3, 2023 first published: April 19, 2023 word count: 2,792 - summary: Eddie loves dancing, especially in the kitchen while cooking one of the few foods he knows how. Buck likes watching him, never having been one for the activity himself. Buck makes a comment. Eddie asks him to join. Things go from there. - A/N: Okay, so this was originally supposed to be from Buck's POV, but somewhere in it I accidentally switched to Eddie's, so we're just going to go with it, because it flows perfectly well, and I'm not really sure how I would even go about changing it. <3

Buck sits with his head resting in his palm, elbow propped up on the countertop as he sits at the island in Eddie’s kitchen. There’s some rock music playing faintly, low enough so they can still hear what’s going on in the living room with Eddie’s extended family, but loud enough to tune them out if either of them so chooses. It’s loud enough that Eddie is hopping around, shaking his head, and humming along to each of the songs. Buck smiles as he watches Eddie, spatula in his hand. Buck’s part, for now, was on hold, so he figured he’d let Eddie try out what Buck had taught him recently, leading to their current positions.

“You’re cute when you dance, you know,” Buck says mindlessly, and he swears he can hear Eddie smile.

“I’m much better with a partner,” Eddie says, waiting for a moment before turning to the side, able to look at his current task and Buck at the same time. “Care to join me?”

“I’m no good at dancing, Eds,” Buck says, tapping his fingers on the counter now.

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” Eddie says, and with how happy and excited Eddie looks in this moment, Buck simply can’t say no.

“Fine, but if I step on your feet you’re not allowed to do any complaining,” Buck says, standing up and going to the side of the island that Eddie’s on, Eddie immediately setting the spatula down and hanging his arms around Buck’s shoulders.

“That bad?” Eddie asks, Buck’s hand coming to rest on Eddie’s hips, the two beginning to sway to the music.

“Well, my prom date never complained, but she did fall into the concession stand during her favorite song that night.”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie says, but Buck shakes his head. “We are going to have to do something about that.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what? Are you gonna take me to the rodeo and teach me how to line dance?” Buck teases, and Eddie grins, their faces coming closer.

“That’s actually not a bad idea. Getting you all dressed up in cowboy gear: a nice button down, some bell bottoms or boot cuts, steel-toed cowboy boots and a matching hat…”

“Are you saying I’d make a handsome cowboy, Diaz?” Buck asks, his and Eddie’s foreheads now leaned against each other.

“So what if I am?” Eddie responds, nudging his face forward, lips almost brushing Buck’s.

“I, uh…” Buck swallows, mouth gone dry. There were some things that Eddie and Buck had never done, some lines they had never crossed. This was one of them. Sure, they would flirt, but it was always subtle, always leaving the question of whether that’s what it was or not. Now, this was blatant, open and honest flirting. Their lips, though, being as close as they are, is the big one in the current moment.

Eddie leans even closer, lips brushing Buck’s as he speaks. “I think we ought to keep dancing.”

Eddie takes one of Buck’s hands off his hips, swinging him out before twirling him back in again, Buck’s back flush against Eddie’s chest, trapped in Eddie’s arms. Buck laughs, spinning himself out before gliding back over to Eddie, one hand on Eddie’s waist and the other clasped in Eddie’s own, the two falling into a simple two-step. They stay by the stove, allowing either one of them to mess with the food if need be, but really, there’s not much that they have to do. Eventually, Eddie reaches a hand over and turns off the stove, using the same hand to dump the chicken he’d been cooking into a salad bowl nearby, letting it go after and bringing his hand back to Buck.

“Look at you, a multitasker,” Buck says, and Eddie laughs, big and loud, throwing his hand against Buck’s chest.

“Aye, cariño,” Eddie says, Buck’s face lights up as he looks at Eddie with what could only be described as heart eyes. “Do you know what that means?”

“No idea,” Buck responds, spinning Eddie around before their hands come back together.

“It’s a term of endearment, sort of like a pet name. I guess it’s most similar to ‘honey’ or ‘dear’, but…I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

“So is that what I am to you?” Buck asks, a question that normally isn’t said in such a soft, caring tone. “Your cariño?”

Eddie nods, a sweet smile appearing on his face. He’d deal with the consequences and implications that come with that later. “Eres mi cariño.”

“Say that again?” Buck asks, and Eddie smiles, being pulled close to Buck, their movements slowing long enough for Buck to lean down so his ear is in line with Eddie’s lips, hearing the words whispered in his ear before they’re right back to dancing again.

They sway for a while, only parting when the oven timer goes off for Buck to take the pizzas, pasta bake, and breadsticks out of the oven, followed by Eddie putting some tamales in the oven, per his father’s request on account of ‘pasta isn’t good food’. Neither told him they’d be having tres leches and sopaipillas for dessert. Instead, they made the tamales, avoiding any potential arguments. They call everyone for dinner, Eddie telling his father that the tamales would be done shortly, offering him a breadstick and some salad for while he waits, only for him to ask where the chips and salsa are.

“You know, Eds, you don’t have to bend over backwards to appease him,” Buck says when he’s in the kitchen making some chocolate while Eddie is grabbing a bag of chips from the pantry and starting to work on homemade salsa and guacamole, something that shouldn’t take him very long.

“I’d rather avoid arguments as much as possible. Besides, I anticipated this, and I prepared. I just wish I had made up all of his potential food requests before he got here.

“You could have asked for my help.”

“Well you were out with Chris, and I didn’t want to interrupt that time with him. It wouldn't be fair to you or him.”

“Eddie, Chris would love to cook with us. I guarantee it. Remember when I first made chocolate with him? He had a blast. There was that night we made our own ice cream while we watched a movie, too. That one was really exciting.”

“Next time I’ll consider it. Taste test?” Eddie asks, holding him a spoonful of salsa, which Buck gladly lets Eddie feed to him.

“Very zesty,” Buck says, and Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “It’s good. Uh, are you almost done with your guac?”

“Buck, I haven’t even started.”

“Sorry. I really like your guacamole.”

“Oh, I know,” Eddie says, cutting up some more tomatoes before throwing them and the insides of a couple of avocados into the blender, some other things going along with. When that’s done, he passes Buck his own plate with chips and guac, smiling at him as he brings the rest of it out to the backyard and the table he has set up out there. He’s greeted by his mother, but she seems almost uneasy.

“Mom? You okay?”

“Pepa says you and Evan are really close.”

“His name is Buck.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Mom—!”

“No, Eddie, I’m serious,” Helena says, and Eddie swallows, grabbing a beer out of the cooler nearby and sitting down.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Eddie says, cracking open the beer and taking a sip. “Although sometimes I wish he was.”

“So,” Helena says, pulling a chair over and sitting next to him, “does this mean you’re gay?”

“Yup,” Eddie says, taking another swig, his mother’s hand coming to rest on his wrist. He'd come to terms with his sexuality a while ago, but everything with Buck fell to a comfortable, domestic standstill after that, and he didn't want to ruin it.

“I’m not mad, Eddie. I’m not upset at all,” she says, as if she knows what’s going through his head. A mother knows. “I just wish you had felt like you could tell me before I figured it out for myself.”

“You never suspected?”

“Oh, no, I suspected,” she says, pulling her hand away. “I have suspected since you were in your later years of elementary school. There was that friend that you had that you would talk about all the time. Ramon never believed me when I said I thought you might have a crush. It’s not surprising, but I think that was just him…projecting.”

“Projecting what?”

“Outdated views and beliefs that he’d grown up with onto you– which he doesn't believe anymore, by the way."

“Well, if his goal was to mold me into a model man, then he’s succeeded. I had the wife, I have the kid, I did my civic duty and joined the military, then when I finished my second tour I became a firefighter. That is about as model man as you can get. The best part is that he hasn’t been around for most of it.”

“Eddie—”

“No, Mom, I’m not– I’m not bitter. I’m just stating a simple fact. He wasn’t around for most of it. He still isn’t, really. Not as much as I might like him to be,” Eddie says, looking over at his mom finally. “So if he was projecting, then I think me not telling you sounds pretty damn right, and is pretty fucking warranted.”

“Edmundo, your language.”

“What? We’re both adults. I can cuss if I damn want to.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Helena says, and Eddie laughs a little.

“If you think that’s ridiculous, you should’ve seen me dancing with Buck a while ago. I was actively trying to kiss him while avoiding kissing him altogether.”

“Oh, I saw,” Helena says, and Eddie looks at her once again.

Eddie is about to prod her about it, but he’s not given the chance when Buck comes bounding out of the house a moment later, leaving a single pat on Eddie’s shoulder as he walks by. Eddie follows Buck with his eyes, watching as he makes his way over to where Christopher is playing catch with some of his cousins. Buck joins in, intercepting the ball every now and then, making all of the kids laugh. Eddie laughs along with them, enjoying seeing his two boys having fun. The whole time his mother’s hand is on his wrist, rubbing soothing circles. There were some things that Eddie would need to talk with Buck about soon (for starters, their almost daily near kiss occurrences).

“Thank you,” Eddie says to Buck later after they’ve cleared everyone out of the house and have finished cleaning up and putting Christopher to bed, the two sitting on Eddie’s couch together. “I don’t know if I would’ve survived today without your help.

“I don’t know. You’re the one who had all the things your father wanted at the ready.”

“Well, you somehow won him over with your chocolate cake. He didn’t even touch the tres leches,” Eddie says, and Buck smiles, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “It was beautiful and delicious.”

“You think so?” Buck asks, sitting up again.

“Well, it came from you, so…”

“Are you saying I’m beautiful and delicious?” Buck asks, his eyes closing and his face scrunching the moment the words come out of his mouth. “Sorry, that was– gosh, I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“No. No, it’s fine. I mean, I know the answer to at least one of those,” Eddie responds, making Buck perk up even more.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.”

“Is that so?” Buck asks, he and Eddie getting closer with every word spoken between the two of them.

“It is. Well, second to Chris, but," Eddie shrugs, eliciting a chuckle from Buck's lips. “It’s too bad, though, that I can’t answer the other half.”

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“Nothing,” Eddie says, grinning as his and Buck’s noses are tip to tip. “Well, maybe something, but I don’t know if you’d be up for it.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Would you rather me tell you or show you?” Eddie asks, and Buck’s grin grows wider.

“I kind of like the sound of the latter,” Buck says, and Eddie’s smile closes, moving so his and Buck’s lips are centimeters apart from touching.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Eddie breathes, his hand coming up to cup Buck’s face, his thumb reaching Buck’s lips just as his grin falters.

“Yes,” Buck says, already breathless, and so Eddie gives him what he wants.

Closing the gap between them feels like heaven, Buck’s body pushing against Eddie’s and forcing him to be leaning Back against the arm of the couch. The feeling isn’t indescribable, either. Not by a mile.

It feels like hot summer days on the beach, splashing around in the ocean all day long. It feels like the sweat-filled afternoon sat on the sand eating lunch and snack, building sandcastles and attempting to take a nap or suntan. It feels like slightly cooler evenings walking along the shoreline, sea breeze hitting your skin and making you shiver as you hold your lover’s hand.

It feels like autumn flannels resting over your arms and shoulders with your favorite plain colored tank top underneath. It feels like raking leaves into a pile and jumping into them just to rake them all up again. It feels like decorating your house for Halloween and attempting to scare those you’re decorating with just to hear the laughter that follows the initial fright. It feels like clinging to the person you love during a horror movie, even if you’re not really scared, because it’s a reminder that they’ll always be there for you and always protect you. It feels like carving pumpkins and using the remnants to make pumpkin pie. It feels like watching the Macy’s Day parade as you spend all day in the kitchen cooking dinner. It feels like apple cider running down your throat as you sit down to a Thanksgiving feast, the football game on in the background.

It feels like winter’s spent inside wrapped in a blanket while wearing your coziest sweater and fuzziest socks, sitting right up by the fire. It feels like Christmas romances as you and your lover hold hands, already knowing the entire plot of the movie before it even comes on. It feels like catching snowflakes on your tongue during the first snowfall of the season. It feels like snowball fights and making snowmen and snow angels, even as you begin to shiver. It feels like cocoa running down your throat as you warm up from winter weather activities.

It feels like the world thawing as spring rolls around, the grass turning green and the trees regaining their leaves. It feels like rebirth, and life, and the blossoming of something new. It feels like bright colors and big smiles, laughter filling the air. It feels like picnics in the park with chocolate covered strawberries and champagne. It feels like picking wildflowers and bringing them home as a gift. It feels like watching an April shower start to come down and running out into the middle of the street to dance in the pouring rain. It feels like the May flowers blooming in your front yard that you frown at when mowing your lawn, wishing that they could stay.

It feels like time is slipping away. It feels like losing seconds of each passing day, faster than you can keep up with it, even as you run to try and catch it in the palm of your hands. It feels like grabbing at it, wanting more, as you fall into it, not wanting the moment you’re in to end. It feels like getting lost in the moment, laughter and smiles all around, the happiest sounds filling the air as people throw their heads back as they let out full belly chuckles or double over as they enter a coughing fit. It feels like reaching out for each of the people that you’re with, knowing that no moments in life are quite like it, and that it’s something you need to cherish. It feels like all of that, eliciting the highest level of serotonin possible in a single instance without causing either of them into serotonin syndrome.

It feels like life itself, everything falling into place in one singular moment.

“Buck,” Eddie mumbles, and Buck pulls away, listening for what it is that Eddie has to say. “I want you to stay with me tonight.”

“What?”

“Just stay here,” Eddie says. “I don’t care where you sleep. You can sleep here on the couch or in my bed with me. I really don’t care. I just want you to stay.”

“Eddie—” Buck cuts himself off, taking a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

#buddie #evan buckley/eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #evan buckley #eddie diaz #getting together #dancing #dancing in the kitchen #pre relationship #fluff #romantic fluff #first kiss #helena diaz

[serendipitouswasteland]

So Put on Your Best, Boys, and I'll Wear My Pearls

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: buddie pov: third person written: March 25, 2022 first published: March 26, 2022 word count: 7,926 - summary: Buck has always wanted a daughter. He loves kids, that's a fact. He loves Christopher, also a fact. He loves being a dad, fact number three. Still, he wants a daughter. He always will, but he knows that what he has is enough. That is, until a family of three is involved in a car crash and a newborn baby girl is the sole survivor, causing Buck to reflect a lot on the life that he has. - A/N: There's some minor detail covering the adoption process, which I'm basing off my own family's experience with it and from the understanding of it that I have within my state, so if it's not exactly how it works in California, then that's why.

Buck leans over, kissing Eddie on his lips slowly, smiling as he pulls away. He goes back in, only giving him a small peck this time. Being with Eddie is one of the three greatest joys in his life. First is his job. That's a no-brainer. Second is Christopher. That kid is his pride and joy. Never is there a moment where he questions his role in Christopher's life. That's his son, through and through, just the same as he is Eddie's. Third is Eddie. Buck's never loved anyone quite the way he loves Eddie. Something about it is so much stronger, so much deeper than any love that he's felt for anyone else. He's so glad that it's reciprocated.

"Buck," Eddie says just as Buck is about to walk away.

"What is it?" Buck asks, getting on his knees next to Eddie, who's sitting in a chair at the table, so they're at a more even level.

"I think we should go out."

"What, like, tonight?"

"No, not tonight. I wouldn't want to spring babysitting on Carla or Maddie or Hen– anyone, really– at such short notice. After our next shift, maybe. Soon."

"And what exactly did you have in mind?" Buck asks, but then lights are flashing and alarms are blaring, and their conversation is cut short.

Eddie sighs, giving Buck a kiss on the cheek as he gets up, the two jogging off the rig together. They sit next to each other in the truck, holding hands as they lean close to one another. They are so attached, not only to each other but the love that they have and that they share. Chim raises his brow at them, then turning to Hen, giving him the same defeated look she always does when it comes to Buck and Eddie.

"Why do you two have the same look on your faces as when you decided you were getting married?" Chim asks, and Eddie and Buck look at each other before looking out opposite windows.

"Oh, you know, just planning our next date night," Eddie says, Buck giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, speaking of," Buck says, "you never did say where you wanted to go."

"How does poker sound?" Eddie asks, and Buck grins as big as he can, shaking his head.

"No way," Buck says, leaning close to Eddie. "That's reserved for special occasions only."

"Mmm, like what?" Eddie asks, giving Buck a cheeky grin. "'Cause last time I checked it's been two years since that night and we still have yet to go to a poker game again."

"Exactly. You have to be like Taylor Swift. Use it as your dating pool and never go back. Only hers was with the Met Gala."

"I'm sorry, why do you know that?" Hen asks.

"May is a big fan," Buck says, and Eddie laughs a little. "What's so funny?"

"It's just that our house isn't exactly 'Taylor-free'. I've caught you listening to, what's that one? The one about blood and war and..."

"It's called Great War, and I wouldn't be listening to it if you hadn't gotten yourself shot, so this is kind of your fault."

"Oh? We're making jokes about that now?" Eddie asks, both men smiling big and wide.

"Someone has to."

"Well—"

"Oh my god, stop it," Bobby says, and Hen and Chimney both laugh. "We get it. You're married. Move on."

"Hey now, that's not very nice of you Bobby," Eddie says, and Buck quirks his brow at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Buck says with a tight-lipped smile.

"Well it's certainly something. 'Nothing' wouldn't have you smiling like that."

"It's just that—"

"You sound like Buck," Hen, Chimney, and Bobby all say at the same time, and Buck swallows.

"Yeah. You sound like me."

"I blame the fact that I both live and work with you now. I can never get a moment to myself. You're always talking and going on about something. What was that thing you were talking about last night? Uh, it had the– the thing with those girls that were dancing, and this one lady was super bitchy from the way you described her, and competitions, and—"

"Dance Moms," Buck says, and Eddie nods.

"Yeah, that. You were going on and on about how the one girl deserved to get a higher placement or whatever but that the bitchy lady or whoever shouldn't have been going so hard on the girl for not doing good enough. Oh, what was her name..."

"Abby Lee."

"Right, right. Yeah, you were just going on and on, and I was just...I was so frustrated with Abuela because I told her already that I would come by after this shift ends to fix up her railing that broke on her steps, but then the phone call didn't end. I mean, I love my abuela, but sometimes I just need her to stop talking. She was just talking about everything, and so my mind needed a break. That's why I decided to go to the kitchen and make Christopher's lunch for today: so I could have some peace and quiet for a few minutes, but of course Buck came in and was talking my ear off after having put Christopher to bed, and—"

"You still sound like him," Hen says, and it's Buck's turn to laugh.

"What? No he does...huh. Do I really sound like that?"

"Yes," They all say, and Buck smiles.

"Good to know."

They arrive at the scene. A four-way. Three car pile-up. There's a man helping a woman out of the passenger seat of one of the car's both seeming to only have minor injuries from afar. By another car, a man is on the phone, and Buck assumes that he's yelling at either his insurance company or a 9-1-1 operator. He'd have to check in with Maddie later. Then, he hears it. it's faint at first, but then it becomes so glaringly loud and clear. A baby's cry. Buck runs straight to the third car, which no one has gotten out of. It's upside down, the baby strapped securely to it's carseat. Buck's heart almost stops.

The baby is wearing a white beanie, white shoes, a white jacket, and white stockings, while having on a dark pink tutu and a long-sleeved, light pink shirt to go with. She's crying, and she looks terrified. Buck's hands immediately go to unclip her from the carseat as he inhales the scent of leaking gasoline. Thankfully, the mechanisms on the carseat still work and the baby comes out with ease, falling into Buck's arms. He holds her close as he makes his quick getaway, the car catching fire not a moment later.

Buck stops short just in front of Eddie, who's staring at the baby he's holding in his arms. They look at each other, Eddie's hand coming up to caress Buck's face and then the baby's. There was an unspoken understanding between them already. Buck has always wanted a daughter. He loves kids, that's a fact. He loves Christopher, also a fact. He loves being a dad, fact number three. Still, he wants a daughter. He always has, and he always will, no matter how much he knows and feels just Chris and Eddie are enough.

"Go help Bobby," Buck says, and Eddie nods, leaving Buck's side and going into firefighter mode.

Buck takes the baby over to Hen while Chimney goes to Eddie and Bobby's aide. Hen checks the baby for anything that could possibly be wrong, but there's nothing. The baby is as healthy as can be. Still, she's crying, so Buck picks her up again and begins to rock her in his arms. He stays at the ambulance with her for the entire call, even refusing Athena's offer to take over when she arrives to take statements. Bobby approaches him when they're about to leave, and Buck doesn't want to hear what he's about to say.

"You and babies," Bobby says, and Buck tries to smile, but he can't. Not when this baby no longer has a mom or a dad.

"What are we gonna do?" Buck asks, looking down at the baby as she lies, now asleep, in his arms.

"We are going to do nothing. The baby will go into the system, and—"

"No," Buck says, holding the baby close. "No. No, I won't let them– they can't– the system is messed up."

"I know it is, but Buck, it's the law. That's not something that we can interfere with."

"So I just leave her?" Buck asks, a sadness in his voice. Bobby shakes his head, leading Buck back to the firetruck.

"No. We bring her with us back to the station, and some time during our shift Child Protective Services will come by to talk with me, and then we'll hand the baby over to them and they'll do their thing. That's how this works, Buck. You should know that by now."

"No. No, I do. I do know that, it's just—"

"Buck?" Eddie asks as he finishes putting his gear away. "Hey, babe, are you okay?"

"I'm– I'm fine, it's just—"

"He's not fine, Eddie," Bobby says, climbing into the engine.

"Buck?" Eddie asks, and Buck only then looks away from the baby.

"I want a daughter so bad," Buck says, and Eddie does his best to give Buck a hug without squishing the baby.

"I know. I know you do," Eddie says, patting Buck on the back after hugging him. "How about we go back to the station, wait for CPS to arrive, and then go from there, okay? Can we please take it one step at a time?"

"Yeah," Buck says, nodding as he holds back tears. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

Buck is with Bobby the entire time he recounts the incident to the CPS lady. He sits there, still holding the baby in his harms, having been the one to watch over her the entire time they waited for someone from CPS to arrive. She had woken up during the ride back to the firehouse, and was awake the entire time they were there until a few minutes before the woman had arrived to take her away. Now, she's asleep in Buck's arms again as Buck sits in one of the extra chairs in Bobby's office, simply listening.

"Really, Buck here is the reason this baby is alive. He heard her crying and didn't waste a second in going and saving her. He's been with her since, not once having left her side."

"Well, I've given her to Eddie when I've had to go to the bathroom, and when I helped you cook, but yeah, pretty much."

"Still. Even when you were cooking with me, you made Eddie sit right across from us at the bar counter. I'm pretty sure I heard you 'threaten' him."

"You threatened your coworker?" The CPS lady asks, and Buck is slightly startled by her presence, or moreso the fact that she actually realized he was there.

"He's not just my coworker, he's my husband," Buck says, and it takes him a second to realize that's not the part he should be focusing on, adding, "Also, I did not threaten him. I told him to sit at the bar counter with the baby or I wouldn't give him any kisses until our shift ends."

"His exact words were 'Eddie, if you do not sit your ass at that bar counter, so help me god, because I will walk out of here with that baby in my arms faster than you can recite our vows word for word– which I know you have memorized– and you won't be getting any kisses until we get home'."

"Well..." Buck says, shrugging his shoulders a little.

"You clearly already have a clear attachment to her," the CPS lady says, and Buck nods once, looking to Bobby for encouragement.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, I've sort of always wanted a baby girl, so any time there's one involved, I just– does she have any family left? I know that's who you guys go to first, so if there is then I'd– I'd like to be there when they take her in. You know, just to make sure that she's okay."

"Uh, Mr. Buckley—"

"Diaz. It's Buck Diaz. I don't go by Buckley anymore."

"Oh, I just thought since your nametag—"

"Yeah, uh, my new one just hasn't come in yet."

"So you're first name is Buck, then?"

"No? I mean, I don't ever get called my real first name except for when my parents come around. Everyone else just calls me 'Buck'. Well, except for Eddie and Chris. Chris calls me Pops, and Eddie sometimes calls me Pops when he's talking to Chris or when the three of us are in a room together. Other times he'll call me a random pet name. The first one he ever called me was 'cowboy'. That was right before I got struck by lightning. Then when I came out of my coma he called me 'sir'. Now that I think about it, those should have been my first sign. Huh. Anyways, why do we care what my name is?"

"It's just that, legally, I'm not sure that the system allows for what you're asking," the CPS lady says, and Buck nods, swallowing harshly.

"Right. Yeah. No, I mean, it was a silly thought anyway...um, I guess I should hand her over to you, then?"

"If you would, yes, please."

Buck looks down at the baby as she lies in his arms. He sucks in a deep, shaky inhale, blinking back a few tears as he hands her over to the CPS lady. He has to look away for a moment when he gets out of his chair to leave.

"Uh," he says, clearing his throat, "make sure that her living family is good people."

"We always do."

Buck nods, clearing his throat once more before leaving Bobby's office. He goes straight to the locker room, pulling out his phone as he sits down on the bench. He dials Maddie's number, trying his best not to cry. She answers almost instantly, knowing that Buck wouldn't be calling her while they're both on shift if it wasn't important. The second he hears the worry in his voice, he breaks down, unable to hold back his tears any longer. At the sound of his sobs, Maddie's voice immediately turns to soothing him, saying the perfect things to calm him down and actually get him to talk to her.

"There was a baby," Buck says, sniffling. "She was in her carseat and her parents were in the front seats. There was a three-car pile-up. Their car rolled. Both of her parents died. She's the only one who lived."

"Oh my god, Buck...is the baby alright? What are they going to do for her?"

"Uh, she has some family left in town. Her grandparents. She's lucky," Buck says, putting his phone on speaker as he sets it on the bench next to him, but Maddie can see right through him.

"You got attached, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Mads, I did, and it was so stupid because I knew this was going to happen, but—"

"Hey, no, Buck, it's alright. You being you is not stupid. I'm sure that baby appreciated it, right? So what's really going on here?"

"He wants a daughter of his own," a voice says, and Buck turns to find Eddie leaning against the doorway.

"Is that Eddie?" Maddie asks.

"Y– yeah. Yeah, it's Eddie," Buck says before turning his words toward Eddie. "What– what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Eddie says, coming and sitting by Buck's side. "Hey Maddie, mind if I steal your brother off the phone?"

"Not at all," she says, hear smile being able to be heard through the device. "Call me later?"

She says it to Buck, but he doesn't answer, opting for silence, so Eddie responds instead. "I'll make sure he does."

The call ends, Buck not looking away from where the lockers meet the floor. Eddie intertwines their fingers, clasping their hands together. There were so many things that Buck could say. Any number of them, though, he knows would sound selfish in some way, and he doesn't want to spring that on Eddie. He's kept it inside this long, he can keep it in longer. Even at death's door, he'll keep it with him.

"So," Eddie says, and Buck looks up, waiting for him to continue, "are you going to talk to me?"

"No," Buck says, and Eddie laughs. He fucking laughs. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because, Buck. Your refusal to talk to me about this is kinda funny. I mean, you would think that me being your husband and all and having a kid with you that you'd trust me enough to talk to me about it, but you don't. I don't get it."

"That's the thing, Eddie. I do trust you. I just don't want to make you feel obligated to fulfill my wants and my wishes. Bringing a newborn baby into this family, Eddie...you'd be restarting the clock."

"No I wouldn't," Eddie says, but Buck isn't having it.

"Yes you would. You've been doing this four fourteen years, even if some of those were while you were away and overseas, okay? Fourteen years, Eddie. You're almost done. I'm not letting you hit the redo button—"

"Buck, you're not listening to me. I wouldn't be redoing anything, alright? Fact is, you're never done being a parent. Just because your child turns eighteen and becomes an adult doesn't mean that you're 'out'. It doesn't mean that you're done. They will still always be your child. Adding another only means adding the amount of years you'll have spent raising children, but I'm not redoing anything. I'd just be starting something with you."

"Eddie—"

"No. I don't want to hear it, Buck. We are in this together, alright? If you want a daughter, then we'll look into it," Eddie says, resting his head against Buck's. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The adoption process isn't easy. There's lots of trainings that both Eddie and Buck have to go through, causing the next several months of their lives to become absolutely draining. With their jobs, it makes it even more difficult to sign up for the different trainings that are required before a child can be put in their care. There's at least one night each week where they have to call Carla or drop Christopher off with Maddie and Chim or Karen and Hen or Bobby and Athena. There's background checks, fingerprinting, TB tests, interviews– even Chris has to go through those. Then there's the paperwork. There's so much paperwork. Within six months, though, they get it all done.

Chandler. An eight month-old baby girl who was put into the system the moment she was born. She's never had an actual family of her own. Granted, she wouldn't remember if she had, but the thought is enough to make Buck nearly break when he first holds her in his arms. Legally, they have to wait another six months before being able to officially adopt her into the family, with monthly visits from a case worker, and then once all the paperwork is done for the adoption to become legalized, nothing. Just their family of four.

When the date arrives, Buck is nervous. He wants so desperately for it to just be done already so he can go back home and hold Chandler in his arms while he cooks Eddie, Chris, and himself dinner. He wants to hold her in his arms while they sit down to have dinner as a family. He wants to hold her in his arms all the time and never let her go. Despite it only having been six months, Buck already knows that his love for Chandler outweighs anything else. Eddie knows, too, and so does Chris, but it only makes their love for him grow.

"Are you alright?" Eddie asks as he take's Buck's shaky hands in his, finishing buttoning up his shirt for him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Buck says. "I just hope nothing goes wrong."

"I'm sure that everything will be fine. We've had her in our home for six months with no problems whatsoever. Besides, it's clear that you love that baby more than anything else in the world– even by some miracle, our job."

"I don't know about that."

"Buck, you have never called off of work a day in your life for anything, yet you called off today and made me call off too so that we didn't have to wait any longer since this was the soonest the adoption could be legalized. You're telling me you love the job more than her?"

"Okay, so maybe I do love her more than anything. Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Eddie says, smoothing out Buck's collar and giving him a kiss. "No it's not."

Just as Eddie said things would, everything goes exactly right. Chandler is officially, legally, a part of their family. Buck sits in the back of the car with Christopher, playing with chandler in her carseat while Eddie sits alone up front on the drive home. He cradles her in his arms as they go inside, checking the time and going straight to the kitchen to start working on dinner. He can hear Eddie and Christopher having a conversation, but can't make out the words. Then Eddie is pulling two beers out of the fridge, popping them open and setting it on the counter, keeping the other to himself.

"Full circle," Eddie says, taking a sip from his bottle.

"You mean because today marks one year since the pile-up?"

"Yeah. I didn't realize it until you started crying in the courtroom earlier. That's why you called off, isn't it? That's why it had to be today?"

"Are you going to tell me that I need to talk to my therapist about this? If you are, then you should know that she actually encouraged me in all of this. She said that she can tell that I love Chandler more than anything else in this world, and that even if she didn't think it was a good idea for it to happen today that she knows I wouldn't have listened."

"And what was your response?"

"I said 'I don't know about more than anything', which led to her reading me talking about you and Chris and the job versus Chandler, which then made me sad and I had a mental breakdown, which she helped me through, and I was just a mess because I do love you, you know? I haven't ever had a romantic love for someone the way I do for you. You are my one true love, Eddie. She even agreed with me on that. She said there was no doubt about it. She also said, though, that every parent has a favorite, even if they don't voice it, and sometimes that favorite is their partner, and others it's actually one of the kids. Case in point, me and Chandler. You know, she's a real wise woman."

"Expensive, too," Eddie says, and they both laugh.

"Hey, you can't talk. Frank isn't exactly cheap, either."

"Cheaper than yours," Eddie says, giving Buck a kiss on the cheek as he goes to look at some bills sitting on the table.

"Speaking of expenses," Buck says, flipping the pancakes that he's making, "do you think we'd be able to buy a house?"

"Uh, yeah, if you can win the lottery."

"What about rent to buy?"

"We'll look into it," Eddie says, and Buck smiles.

"Last time you said that we ended up with a baby."

"She's fourteen months, Buck. I hardly think that counts as a baby."

"You see, that's where you're wrong. Ages zero to one are considered infants, while ages two to three are considered toddlers. She's not a toddler yet, therefore she is still a baby."

"Uh-huh," Eddie says, smiling and taking a sip of his beer. "Just know, she's not going to be little forever."

Eddie was right. Chandler wasn't a baby forever. From the time she was first placed with the Diaz family and for the next sixteen months, Buck would dress her up in the cutest outfits imaginable. Then, on her second birthday, they started giving her options of outfits. All still highly adorable, but she never chose Buck's favorite. He didn't mind, though, because on the days he and Eddie didn't work he would spend all day with Chandler, spoiling her rotten.

When she turned three, Buck had saved enough money at that point to make a family trip to Disneyland. They were eligible resident offer, but with them also getting park hopper tickets, it was still fairly expensive. Thankfully, the three days they used the tickets were during Buck and Eddie's mandatory four day off-period. Buck too Chandler on every ride that day that she wanted, not saying no to a single one unless she wasn't able to because of the park's rules. He bought her all of the things that caught her eye, burning a hole in his pocket, but at the time he didn't care. The only thought on his mind was putting a smile on Chandler's face.

Once a week, their family gets together with the Grant-Nash household and the Buckley-Han household, having a family dinner. Those nights, Buck wants to go play with the kids just to be around Chandler, but he doesn't, watching from afar with everyone else. The thing about that, though, is that he watches Christopher with Chandler, and he leans his head on Eddie's shoulder every time, whispering to him to look at their kids and the love they have for each other. Every time, Eddie simply kisses Buck's forehead, running a hand through his husband's hair as his arm is wrapped around his shoulder.

Chandler's first year of school is Christopher's first year in college. While Eddie watches Buck struggle with letting Chandler go to school for the first time ever, Buck watches Eddie struggle with not being the one to take Chris to and from campus every day. They watch as the other just wants to hold onto their children as long as they possibly can and never let them go. Every day after school, Buck gives Chandler the biggest hug ever. During dinner every night, they facetime with Chris just to give Eddie piece of mind, even if Eddie is hogging the phone almost the entire time, barely letting Buck and Chandler get two words in (not that Chandler says much, anyway, being slightly camera shy).

For Chandler's tenth birthday, Buck throws her the biggest party ever. Chris helps a ton, just having graduated college. He and Buck just keep getting closer, and Eddie revels in watching his two favorite boys bond over their favorite girl. The pre-teen years are rough. Middle school is rough. Chandler spends a lot of time with Maddie, going and getting their nails done and going shopping together with her and Jee-Yun who are, really, just two peas in a pod. May comes over a lot and Eddie and Buck can sometimes hear Chandler telling May about her most recent crush. There's one night, though, that Chandler's door is cracked open, and Buck goes to tell them dinner is ready when he sees Chandler crying in May's arms. He knocks on the door lightly, opening it all the way when May nods him in.

"Hey, angel," Buck says, getting down on his knees at the foot of her bed. "What's going on? Why are you crying?"

"I don't want to tell you," Chandler says, and May frowns a bit.

"She's just had a rough day, Buck."

"Okay, well, what happened?"

"Nothing," May says, shaking her head. "It's not that something happened. Not to her, anyway. It's just...she'll tell you when she's ready, okay?"

"Okay, well, dinner's ready."

As it turns out, that was the day she saw her crush holding hands in the hallway with someone else. Buck didn't find out until two weeks later during dinner when Eddie brought it up. It stung.

"Wait, is this the same kid you saw holding hands with someone else?"

"No, Dad. That was someone else."

"Wait, what?" Buck asks, confused. "You never told me about that."

"She didn't?" Eddie asks, and Buck shakes his head.

"I didn't want you to be disappointed in me," Chandler says, and Buck frowns.

"Sweetheart, I could never be disappointed in you. You are my sweet angel, and I would never think poorly of you at all, ever. Okay?"

Chandler simply nodded at Buck's words, leaving him slightly baffled. As she got older, she only kept things about her love life from Buck even more. Half the time he felt like she didn't trust him. One night, climbing into bed with Eddie, Buck finally voiced his concerns.

"Do you think Chandler trusts me?" He asked, sitting upright.

"Uh, yes? Why do you ask?"

"It's just that, you know, she's always going to you and May and Maddie and even Chris about her relationship stuff before me. I mean, what advice do you guys give that I don't?"

"Buck, hun, I think it has less to do with her not trusting you and more with you not trusting any kids at her school."

"What?"

"Do you remember the first dance her sixth grade year? The date she had?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think so."

"He ghosted her after the dance, and when she found out why it was because the poor kid was scared of you. Now, I'm not saying that you weren't right to be concerned, because I didn't quite like him either, but if we don't let her have the experiences without our interference, how is she ever going to learn what's good for her? Who is good for her?"

"Huh. I guess I never thought about it that way before."

"Clearly."

Eddie gave Buck a kiss on the lips before turning off their bedside lamps and pulling him close. Buck wouldn't be able to sleep that night. He'd be too focused on the fact that his favorite person in the world wouldn't talk to him about the important things going on in her life.

One day Buck will never forget is Chandler's first day of high school. She refused to let anyone other than Christopher take her to school, claiming that he had the best understanding of what was going on in her life and would be best equipped to help her through any first-day anxiety that she might have. She ended up being right, because she came home happy as a bee, kissing Buck on the cheek the second she stepped in the house and giving him a big hug.

"I take it your first day at school was good?" Eddie asked as she came and gave him a hug, too.

"It was alright. I have something I want to tell you guys during dinner, but right now I'm going to facetime Aunt May. Bye!"

Then, she ran off to her room, leaving Eddie and Buck in the kitchen together, stunned. Dinner started out normal. Chandler didn't lead on that anything had happened earlier at all. It made Buck worried, like perhaps she's changed her mind and didn't want to tell them anymore. Then, she got up to get seconds, and both Eddie and Buck stopped her.

"First," Eddie said, "what did you have to tell us?"

"Right," Chandler said, and Buck could see her instant anxiety.

"It's alright, angel. Whatever it is, you can tell us."

"No, I know, it's just...I mean, I know you guys are friends with Hen and Karen," she'd said as she began to ramble, and Eddie and Buck gave each other a look that told them they both knew where this was going, "and they're married and whatever, which is cool, but that's different, you know? They're your friends. That's a choice you're making. With me, you don't get a choice. You're stuck with me. That's why it's so hard to say."

"Uh, sweetheart, whatever it is, whatever you have to tell us, we'll still love you the same," Buck had said, taking her hand in his. "We– I– will always love you, no matter what."

"I have a girlfriend," she says plainly, sitting back in her seat. "Can I have seconds now?"

"Uh, yeah," Buck said, letting go of her hand. "Yeah, go ahead."

"So," Eddie said next, not wanting Buck's sudden quiet demeanor to get to Chandler's head, "are you a lesbian or bi, or...?"

"Hm. That's a good question. I don't really know. I haven't really felt the need to label it yet, you know? I mean, I know I like guys. That's for sure. I mean, have you seen my posters on my walls of Harry Styles and Zayn Malik? How could somebody not like them? Then you have girls, though, and...it's different. I mean, I feel so much attraction for them, it's kind of wild. Also, Taylor Swift? Hot damn."

"Language," both Eddie and Buck said at the same time, and Chandler apologized.

"Look, my point is that I sort of just don't think about it. Plus, there was that person last spring that I liked, and they're non-binary, so," Chandler said with a shrug.

"Okay, so you don't want a label it. There is nothing wrong with that," Buck said.

If his words didn't sound sincere, he didn't mean for them not to. He meant his words fully and completely. There was nothing insincere about them. The thing was, this was the first time Chandler had opened up to him in a while, so it was taking him a minute to comprehend that it was actually happening.

"Dad?" Chandler had asked, an almost sadness in her voice.

"Yeah? Is something wrong?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Hey, no, everything is fine. I really do love you and support you, sweetheart. Remember, you are always my angel, no matter what."

"I know, Dad. What do you say we go to that ice cream spot you used to take me to when I was little? It can be just like old times. I'll finally have an excuse to wear my tutu, and we can talk about this more. How does that sound?"

"I think it sounds wonderful," Eddie said. "You two really do need a father-daughter date. It's been a while."

"Yeah," was all Buck had said in response, but in his head he was thinking 'four years'.

Eddie had to practically drag Buck out of his seat at the table and shove him into their room to get him out of his own head. From there, Buck was on autopilot. He wore the same outfit that he would any time he took Chandler to the ice cream shop when she was little. He found Eddie right before they left and gave him a big kiss on the lips followed by one on the cheek, just like he used to every time he took Chandler out. The difference now, though, is that he had to wait on Chandler to come out of her room. When she did, she was wearing a dress that, while not quite the same as the one she used to wear when they went, it was strikingly similar, and Buck felt like he might cry.

"Hey, angel," Buck said, standing up from the couch where he and Eddie were sitting together, talking on the phone with Christopher. "Dad and I are on the phone with Chris. Do you want to say hi?"

"Chris!" Chandler shouted, practically throwing herself over the back of the couch and tackling the phone out of Eddie's hand. "Pops and I are going out to get ice cream."

"Just like you used to when you were younger."

"Yeah! I'm super excited. Um, thank you for taking me to school today. I think your advice really helped. I love you so much, bubba!"

"I love you too, Chandler. Have fun with Pops."

"I will!" Chandler handed the phone back to Eddie then, jumping off the floor and grabbing Buck's hand, pulling him out of the house. "You know, Pops, soon enough you're going to be teaching me how to drive."

"No I will not," Buck said, shaking his head adamantly as they got in the car. "We'll leave that to your father."

"Technically you are my father, so..."

"How about the one who hasn't been crushed by a moving vehicle teaches you?"

"Hm, I don't know. I think it might be a fun bonding experience if—"

"Hey. That's not funny," Buck said, and Chandler shut it down quickly.

"Sorry, Pops."

"It's fine, it's just not funny," Buck said as they drove down the street.

Things got quiet then, neither one saying anything until they got to the ice cream shop. They sat outside under the gazebo, just like they used to, getting the exact same flavors as they always did. Then, Buck sighs, deciding that if he was going to expect Chandler to be completely open and honest with him then he owes her the same thing in return.

"You know," he said, focusing on his ice cream cone, "there's a lot about me and Dad that you don't know yet."

"Like what? I know about the ladder truck, I know about the pulmonary embolism, I know about the tsunami, I know about the lawsuit, and I know about the both of you getting struck by lightning but only you getting severely hurt...what am I missing?"

"A lot, angel. You're missing a lot."

"Like what?" Chandler asked, her eagerness making it that much harder.

"Well, first off, Dad and I did not get along well at first. I thought he was going to replace me. Turns out that wasn't the case, huh?"

"Obviously," Chandler says, and the two share a small laugh.

"Well, we became the best of friends. Then, as you mentioned, everything from the ladder truck crushing my leg to the lawsuit happened. After that, Dad was in a well saving a young boy when it collapsed. I thought I'd lost him that night. I didn't though. Next was when he got shot."

"Dad got shot?" Chandler asks, nearly choking on her ice cream.

"Woah, hey, it's alright. He is alright. I mean, he almost wasn't, but thanks to your amazing dad– I'm talking about me, if you haven't guessed that yet– pulled him to the safety, then I was the one who took care of him on the way to the hospital. I was the one who took care of Christopher during that time...he was in a coma. Uh, then after that he told me that in his will it says that if he were to die I would become Christopher's legal guardian."

"Woah. You guys weren't together yet?"

"Nope. We didn't get together for another two years. Can you believe that?"

"That's wild."

"Yeah, it is. Well, then after he got shot...what happened next? Oh, well, Dad left the 118 for a while because he was going through something, but I think he should be the one to tell you about that. The next thing, I guess, would be when we both got struck by lightning."

"Did it hurt?"

"Hell yeah," Buck says, and Chandler squints at him.

"Language," she says, and he laughs.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Well, it did hurt. A lot. Dad was thrown off the fire engine, but I was hanging from the ladder, completely lifeless. Anyway, I went into a coma after that. It was bad. I had a coma dream and everything."

"Oh, what happened in your dream?" Chandler asks, and Buck just chuckles and shakes his head.

"Uh, you know, looking back, nothing good."

"So what happened next?"

"Well, we started dating a while after that, and then after a year of dating got engaged, and then another year later we got married, but you already know all of that."

"Uh-huh. So why do I feel like I'm still missing something?" Chandler asks, and Buck smiles and laughs again.

"It's because you are. A few months after Eddie– Dad and I got married, there was this call. It was at a four-way intersection. A three car pile-up. In one car was a family of three. A newborn baby was the sole survivor. I was the one who got her out, I was the one who handed her off to the CPS lady...I got attached. That was when Dad and I decided to adopt you. That is why I got so upset earlier when you made that joke about getting into a car accident.

"It's because that's the reason I'm here in the first place," Chandler says, and Buck sighs, knowing this is going to cause some change. "Do you still love me?"

"What? Of course, angel. I wanted a daughter for my entire life, not just after that baby survived the car crash. That was just mine and Dad's deciding moment that we were actually going to fulfill that want of mine. So we did, and we have had an amazing time raising you."

"I love you, Dad. You're my favorite person in the entire world. I mean it."

"Dad trumps girlfriend? That's new. I don't even think Christopher—"

"Then you don't know Chris as good as you think."

"Oh, really?" Buck asks, and Chandler nods, giving him a big, cheeky grin.

For Chandler, she loved having two dads. Sure, sometimes she wondered what it would be like to have a mom, what it would be like to have someone she can go sit with at any given point in time so she could talk about all of her girl problems. As she got older, though, she realized that she didn't need a mom to do that. If she needed it to be a woman, she could call Maddie, Jee-Yun, or May, sometimes even Athena, Hen, or Karen. If she just needed to get things off her chest, though, as much as she loves Buck, Eddie was her go-to.

"Okay," Chandler says, sitting criss-crossed on her bed, Eddie sitting on her desk chair across from the foot of her bed. "So there's this guy, and I think he likes me."

"Wait, what happened to, uh...oh, who was it—"

"Irrelevant. This guy that I'm talking about now has a girlfriend. Guess who that girlfriend is?" Chandler asks, and Eddie's jaw drops.

"No way."

"Yes! Like, how much worse could my life get? Why does she have to be his girlfriend? God, she's such a bitch!" Chandler shouts, and Eddie gives her a pointed look, Buck popping his head into the room a moment later.

"Language," both Eddie and Buck say at the same time.

"Hey, are you two having a gossip session without me?" Buck asks, all too familiar with their seating arrangements.

"Sorry, Pops. It's just that Dad is less judgemental."

"No, he's more judgemental, which is the exact reason he's perfect. He judges the people the way you want him to. I am like Switzerland. The middle ground. The neutral zone."

"Which is the problem. I'll tell you about it later, okay Dad?" Chandler suggests, and Buck nods in agreement.

"I don't see why not. I love you both, and don't stay up all night chit-chatting. There's still school and work tomorrow, and I don't need my partner dozing off during a 24-hour shift."

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie says, yawning. "I'll be fine."

"Sure you will."

That's where they are now, with Buck lingering in the doorway for a moment longer, his daughter giving him a knowing smile over Eddie's head, and then Buck is gone to clean up from cooking dinner. He washes the dishes vigorously, having become his way to expel himself of any negativity he's curated over a 24-hour shift. After a while, a pair of arms wraps around his middle, holding onto him as Buck finishes with the final dishes and setting them on the drying rack to the left of the sink. Eddie tells their Alexa (something that he's still not entirely on board with) to play some music, one of his favorite songs coming on first. The two sway together to the music, Buck turning around as they hold each other close.

"You know she's gonna want you to walk her down the aisle one day, right?" Eddie asks once the chorus has come around once, and Buck simply hums in response. "She loves you more than anything in the world."

"I know that."

"Sometimes it seems like you don't."

"No, I do. I do, it's just...remember when she was little? How she would spend every waking moment with me that she could?"

"Buck—"

"No, don't say anything yet. When she was little, I was so attached to her, and she was attached to me. She's my angel, you know?" Buck says, and Eddie nods and hums, Buck's voice always having been one of soothing nature. "She still is. The only difference is she chooses to love me from afar."

"That's not entirely true," Eddie says, and Buck makes a confused sound that Eddie can't quite make out if it was an actual word or not. "When we're having dinner, she always sits where she can see you. When we're watching something as a family, half the time I don't get to cuddle with you because she is. Not that I'm complaining. I get you to myself all night anyways. In the car, you've stopped being the one driving because it gives you more of a chance to focus on talking with her. Do you know the last time she said goodmorning or goodnight to me first?"

"No," Buck says honestly. He really doesn't.

"The answer is never. Sometimes, she gives you a second goodnight after me."

"That doesn't...bother you, does it?" Buck asks, and Eddie shakes his head.

"No. It doesn't. You know why?"

"Hm?"

"Because Chandler is your Christopher. I am to Chandler what you are to Chris, and I am to Christopher what you are to Chandler."

"I think that's just further proof that we make a great team," Buck says, and Eddie smiles and laughs a little.

"Yeah we do."

Eddie yawns, and Buck knows that he's beyond tired. He turns off their Alexa, taking Eddie's hand and leading him down the hallway to their room. They're both already in their pajamas and didn't turn the light on, so all that's left for them to do is climb into bed. They slip under the covers, Buck immediately rolling over to wrap one arm around Eddie's torso, the other pulling his pillow against his side that's hitting the mattress still. Eddie has one arm keeping the covers pulled up over them, the other wrapped around Buck's shoulders, keeping him close. He turns his head, kissing Buck on the top of his. Eddie begins whispering sweet nothings into Buck's ear, yawning more and more frequently as he does so until he's fallen asleep, Buck's eyes fluttering shut as silence overtakes the room. They made the right decision those seventeen, nearly eighteen years ago, and he's so glad that they did. He has everything he's ever wanted, and he couldn't be more content.

#buddie #evan buck buckely #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #original character #married buddie #buckley diaz family #christopher diaz has two dads #give buck a daughter initiative

[serendipitouswasteland]

March 22, 1986

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3

ship: byler pov: third person written: September 21, 2022 first published: September 22, 2022 word count: 10,621 warnings: death, violence, & graphic depictions of those - summary: Will has simply had enough. The words Mike has been yelling at him for nearly an hour now have began to give Will a headache, and he's had enough. After a forgotten birthday and near-forgotten friendship, Will is done with Mike's bullshit.

But perhaps there's more to the story.

Something about the way Mike said the words itches Will. It made him feel like, slowly, every bit of him that he'd worked to keep together and keep in place over the years is starting to fall apart and unravel– but no. He won't let that happen. Not when Mike is standing across from him looking at him with the look that he is. Not when they're fighting and Will refuses to start crying. But those words? Hell, Mike deserves everything that's coming to him. Or, that's what Will is thinking at the moment.

'You're a fucking liar.'

Does Mike regret it? Does he not? Will doesn't know. The only thing he can read from Mike is anger. Not regret, not satisfaction, just anger. Pure and true anger, more than Will thinks he's ever seen. And for what? Because of a painting that he wasn't entirely truthful about? Because he lied to Mike for the first time in his life? Is that really the only reason right now for Mike's anger? Or was there something else? Perhaps it was something that Mike was lying about, something that Will doesn't know. And yet Mike wants to get mad at Will for lying. Sure .

"Well?" Mike asks, waving his arms out before crossing them again. He's waiting for Will to answer. But what does Will say?

"I didn't lie ," except, he did. He did lie. But to admit that? And to Mike, of all people?

"Bullshit! I talked to El, I talked to Jonathan– hell, even Argyle was on the same page as them. El told me she didn't ask you to make the painting for her, Jonathan told me that too, and so did Argyle. So I went to your mom."

Shit .

"And you know what I found out? That it was you who made it for me. That it was you who wanted to make me this grand painting that symbolizes our friendship. And you did . But you lied about it. You made me think that it was some romantic gesture from El and not from you. How could you do that to me? How could you lie to me, Will? What happened to us being best friends? Or did you once again not care to be that anymore and decided not to tell me?"

"You needed something to help you! That's all I wanted to do– help. And you want to talk to me about not wanting to be friends anymore? The day you first came to Lenora was awful for me, Mike. It sucked ."

"That's not my fault!"

"Except it was! It was your fault, just as much as it was everyone else's. You know it was my birthday? The day at Rink-O-Mania? It was my fucking birthday , Mike."

"What?"

"My birthday, Mike. It was my birthday. And you– you forgot about it. You're supposed to be my best friend and you forgot my birthday."

"I didn't forget your birthday!" Mike yells, bewildered at the accusation.

"But you did! You didn't hug me at the airport, you didn't get me a gift, and you didn't say happy birthday to me at all."

"I did get you a gift."

"Well then where is it?"

Will is crossing his arms now, Mike standing with his at his eyes, a defeated and dumbstruck look on his face. If Will had any guilt over the matter, he didn't show it. Despite how hurt Mike looks, Will can't bring himself to show that he cares. Not in this moment when he feels like his friendship that both he and Mike have worked so hard to repair is falling apart once again. And while that should be the reason he does show that he cares, it's not. It's the complete opposite.

Mike sniffles just a litte, reaching into the pocket of his blue long-sleeved shirt, pulling out a slightly crumpled yet neatly folded piece of paper. Mike looks at the item for a moment before looking away, blinking his eyes a few times. With one last huff of anger, Mike shoves it into Will's hands, forcing him to catch it against his chest.

"Happy fucking birthday."

Mike takes a few steps back, his back hitting the wall. Will stares at him for a moment before gulping and looking down at the paper he's holding against his chest. Will fumbles with it for a moment, unfolding it. Each fold was done with precision and care, like Mike had tried to make it look as perfect as could be. Once unfolded, Will's eyes have to adjust to a long letter written with precision and perfect handwriting. Will doesn't even have to read it to know that it's beautiful.

'Dear Will,

Hawkins hasn't been the same since you left. I don't remember it without you. Not much, anyways. Meeting you on the swings and becoming friends is one of my earliest memories. There's not many I can think of from before that. And to know that I remember the day so vividly makes me question a lot. I don't remember too much else from around that time, so I often ponder who I could remember that so much and not anything else. But I think I know.

Most of my memories from throughout my childhood have you in it. From elementary school breakfasts to playground games to classroom instruction, somehow we've always been together. Even after school you'd come over a lot and we'd have tons of fun. Most nights we even had sleepovers. And all of those memories? They're all my favorites.

And, of course, Lucas and Dustin were there, too. I can't leave out my other two best friends.

But regardless of who else has been in a memory or simply in my life, you have always been this shining star. Bright and bold and sunshine-y, you've always been like my own personal North Star. You lead me to where I have to go– where I'm meant to go.

I know that I've always sort of been the one to "lead" you, but really, Will, you lead me. And sure, I care for you a lot and look out for and worry over you considerably more than you do for me and more than I do for Lucas and Dustin and Max and, hell, sometimes even El (Although, I'll be honest, it's very close. You're both endlessly important to me), but something about the way you treat me is somehow how I've always wanted to treat you.

You're kind and caring and you know me better than anyone else. You're not afraid to call me out on my bullshit and you encourage me to be me. That's what you've always done. And you're honest with me. I won't lie, Will, I've lied to you before. Maybe not directly, but it's happened, and I'm sorry for that. But you being honest with me and trusting me has got to be the reason why I love you so much.

And then there's that.

I wasn't going to say it. I was going to just write you a happy birthday letter telling you all the things I love about you without actually saying that's what it was, but my hand works faster than my mind sometimes and I just can't stop it from all flowing out.

So there it is. I love you. But it's more than that.

It's not just love. Love itself is so unimportant. At least the romantic kind. Every person needs love in their life, yes, and we're made to believe that love we need is romantic, but it's not. A person can survive on just platonic and familial love alone. But you? God, you make me want that romantic love. You make me feel like without it I'm going to simply die. Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me. Both times. And sure, I didn't actually lose you either time, but it felt like I did, and neither time have I known what to do with myself. You complete me, Will.

And it is that completion that causes me to be in love with you without me even trying and without me even knowing how or why. But I love you. I do. I am in love with you.

And happy birthday.

Love,

Mike.'

Will's eyes linger on the signage of the letter, a finger trailing over it before his eyes flutter to Mike quickly before looking back at the paper. Will folds it back the way it was before, walking over to Mike who has his hand out waiting for Will to hand it back, and he does. Slowly and gently, Will places the piece of paper into Mike's hand, his fingers going from brushing against Mike's wrist to fingertips as he does so. They make eye contact once again, and Will returns Mike's tears. And, just as he begins to speak, a door is opened, interrupting the pair's solemn moment.

"Guys," Jonathan says, nodding his head down the hall. "We gotta go."

Will pulls away from Mike, brushing past his brother as he begins to make his way down the hall. As he goes, he can hear Jonathan and Mike share a few words. It's distant and muffled, so he can't make it out, but he can tell it's not entirely happy from either side. Will huffs and rolls his eyes, going down the stairs in Mike's house and out the door to the garage, climbing into the back of Karen's car as he pulls his bandana over his face so it's covering his nose and mouth.

Not a moment later, Mike joins him, his eyes stern and coded in anger. He's upset about something, and it's not the same upset he was before. This is something different. Will looks to Jonathan who's eyeing Mike in the mirror, looking away when he finds Will looking at him. Will looks away too, opting to look out the long back window instead.

He rests his chin on his knuckles, looking at the apocalyptic world around him. Every day he fears something will happen to his friends and family. The thought of it happening to him, however, doesn't scare him as much. He'd rather it be himself than anyone else. And right now, Will is sure that split second decision might be one he has to make. After all, they're on their way to killing Vecna.

Nancy had worked out the plan for months. She'd given everyone a role and a person to stick with and told everyone exactly what they would need to do. Each person played a vital role in her plan, and not one person could deviate from it or they might mess it up.

Might.

That was the one thing Will couldn't stop thinking about. Someone deviating only might mess things up. That's how solid of a plan that Nancy thinks she has. But Will knows better. Will knows that, when it comes to the Mind Flayer, there is no plan. If you think you have one, you're as good as dead. Will knows that. But he won't tell anyone else. No one except Mike. But he wasn't going to say anything quite yet. He was going to wait until they were split off in their pairings and it was him and Mike alone. Then he would tell him. He would tell Mike all of the things that he should have told him years ago.

There was, however, one slight problem. He and Mike had just got done fighting. Will can't ponder that right now, though, because Nancy has just pulled up to their first stop. The gate on the highway. Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin all get out of the car, each of them saying goodbye to everyone as they're wished luck before going through.

Once out on the other side, the four boys set up a communication plan for while they're down there. After all, they'd be splitting up– Mike with Will and Lucas with Dustin, just like how it's always been. While Mike and Dustin discuss a few things, Will pulls Lucas over to the side and speaks to him in a hushed voice.

"You can't let yours and Dustin's trauma get to you."

"I know. You can't either."

"What do you think I've been doing this whole time?"

"You still feel him?"

"Too much. It's like he's everywhere and nowhere all at once."

"Have you told Mike?"

"No. You know how he would react. Any time I bring it up he goes absolutely haywire."

"Maybe there's a reason for that."

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean that I was sort of the same way about Max."

"Lucas—"

"I'm not saying he likes you back, Will. But I'm also not saying that he doesn't. I'm just saying that he wants to be able to protect you, no matter what that takes. You have to look out for him just as much if not more than he looks out for you. And that's going to be hard with just how protective he is, but—"

"I sacrificed myself for him before. I'd do it again."

"Promise that you'll both come back?"

"You know we can't promise anything."

"Will. Promise me."

"I promise."

"Promise what?" Mike asks as he and Dustin come to Will and Lucas's sides.

"That we'll all come back," Lucas says, looking at Dustin with a determined look, the both of them nodding firmly at each other before Lucas pulls Will into a tight hug.

"Take care of yourselves, okay?" Mike asks, pulling Lucas and Dustin both into a hug after Lucas and Will finish.

"You guys too," Lucas says as Will and Dustin hug now.

Lucas and Dustin turn and walk the opposite direction, Will and Mike doing the same. Will sniffles just a bit, wiping at his eyes and picking up his pace. He doesn't want to be feeling like this right now.

"You okay?" Mike asks.

"I don't want anything bad to happen to either of them because of me."

"Because of you? What do you mean?"

"Don't play stupid, Mike. This? All of this? It's my fault. If I had just let the Vecna and the Mind Flayer take over Hawkins the first time, or if I had died in the Upside Down then– then none of this would even be happening."

"Don't talk like that. We stopped it before. We can stop it again."

"But that doesn't mean they won't get hurt."

"Will, stop. Listen to me," Mike says, stopping in his tracks which causes Will to do the same. "If anyone gets hurt that is not your fault. That is One's. That is his fault, not yours. You were a kid. That is on him."

The two stand there in silence for a moment before they continue walking. Neither one says much. Not that they should, anyways. Who knows what the extent of Vecna's powers are. He has a lot. Many of them are like El's, but some are different. Some are stronger.

After a while of walking, Mike and Will arrive at their destination. Mike's house. Will remembers when Nancy had been telling everyone what she'd seen in her room and in her journal. There wasn't anything new since Will had disappeared. It was as if, in the Upside Down, time had stopped. It made Will curious, wanting to know more. How was the day he went missing tied into all of this? That wasn't when the Upside Down was created. In fact, it had existed long before that. Long before Vecna had been sent there, too. So why did Will affect it so much?

Walking inside of Mike's house is like stepping through a time machine. He's in a different world. He remembers what it looked like from the height he was then, barely seeing above the counter from how short he was. A few years ago it would have fallen near his waist. Now his hip-bones are right at the counter.

As they continue through, Will notices a lot of things that are different from how they are now. Some photos on the wall, the living room, Mike's room. And while Mike continues his way to Nancy's room, Will pops into Mike's. There's bunk beds instead of a full size, his closet door is closed and his room is picked up and clean. There's knicknacks on his dresser and nightstand. None if it is Mike at all. At least not the Mike now.

Looking around, a photo on top of Mike's dresser catches Will's eye. It's of him, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin with a trophy after the science fair. All of them are smiling brightly. Even Mike. Will traces his thumb over his own face, thinking back over the last few years. He hasn't smiled like that in a while. Not since he moved to Lenora, and definitely not since he'd been possessed by the Mind Flayer. Had it really been that long?

Will sets the photo down, going around the rest of Mike's room. There's a dinosaur– Mike's favorite– but it doesn't roar. It's broken. Then, there's something else that grabs Will's attention. Mike's walkie talkie. Will hasn't used one in a while. There was so much about Mike's room that Will had missed, and he hadn't even realized it until now. So many little things that slowly disappeared, and once he got back from Lenora? He hardly recognized the space at all.

There was one thing, though, that gave it all away. And only now had Will noticed it. On all of Mike's walls, there's Will's art. Drawings and paintings alike, they're plastered on each wall of Mike's room. Picturing Mike's current room in his mind, Will remembers the corkboard on Mike's wall above his bed, that now being what contains all of Will's art from his walls. It's the one constant from throughout the years. Clearly it was important to him.

"Wow, this is so not me at all," Mike says as he comes into the room.

"I think it is. There's still something that stayed the same."

"Well, yeah. I mean, the walls and floor haven't changed, and neither has my closet or my window, but everything else is different."

"You kept up my art, too."

Will watches as Mike looks around at the walls, and then to the spot where his cork board would be hanging up now. He smiles, sitting down on the bed, Will doing the same. Mike pats his knees a few times, looking at a few of the drawings a bit me before letting out a small chuckle, Will smiling at the action.

"Yeah. I kept up some of your art."

"Why? It's not like it's any good."

"It's still your art, Will. It's part of who you are. It's how you've grown up."

"Too bad my best piece wasn't made yet."

"No, but I remember exactly where it is," Mike says, standing up and hopping into his rolling desk chair.

He grabs a pencil out of a container and goes to the wall between his closet and his bedroom door. Then, he begins to sketch. Will tries to peer over his shoulder and watch, but he can't quite see. He stands up, going over to Mike and leaning over his shoulder, watching as he works. It takes him a while, but eventually Mike has the entirety of Will's painting outlined on his wall. Even with it being covered in grime, he recreated it perfectly. And he was right. He does remember exactly where it is.

"Clearly you've looked at it a lot."

"It's my favorite. Well, one of my favorites. I also really like the one you did of the dragging biting the guy's head off. Do you remember that one?"

"I've made a lot of art, Mike. And it's been years since I've done any actual drawing. I normally just paint now."

"Here. I have it in a binder," Mike says, rolling over to his closet and standing up, throwing open the door.

He reaches up onto his tip toes and grabs a black binder with a few stickers on it off of the top shelf, walking over to his desk and kicking his chair along with him. He sets the binder down, sitting down in his chair as he opens it up and begins to flip through.

The pages are filled with all of Will's drawings that he's made throughout the years that he's given to Mike or hasn't wanted to keep. Every single one, and each one in perfect condition. There's not a single tear or wrinkle in a single one of the papers. And there's a lot of papers. Mike stops flipping through the binder, firmly putting his finger down on one of the pages. Sure enough, there's a dragon biting some "guy's head off". Will chuckles and smiles a little, admiring Mike's good memory.

"I've kept up with it throughout the years," Mike says, talking about the binder. "I look through it from time to time just because, usually when I miss you."

"You missed me?"

"Yeah. I mean, Hawkins wasn't the same without you, right?"

"Yeah, but feeling like you've lost someone and missing someone are two different things."

"But they go hand in hand," Mike says, sighing and pulling out a notebook from the pocket of his leather jacket. "I found Nancy's journal. The last date is November 6, 1983, just like she said."

"Dammit. I just don't get it. What does me disappearing have to do with any of this?"

"That's always had to do with it. Nothing started happening until you went missing."

"No, nothing started happening until El escaped the lab. Those are two different things."

"Happened on the same day."

"But she escaped before I disappeared. It started with her."

"But she's not who the Mind Flayer flayed. If he wanted her, he would have chosen her, right? One and Billy both said they were doing it all for her, but then why you? Why would he choose you? It just doesn't make sense unless you're also what he wanted. You're a part of his grand master plan."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true! And it's scary as Hell, but you know I won't let anything happen to you. I promised you we were going to kill him, and we will. We will."

"You don't know that. None of us do."

"But you do. You practically share a mind with him. You know how he works. You better than anyone should know how to stop him."

"So that's why you're pissed."

"I'm not pissed."

"You're acting like it."

"I'm just upset that they don't trust you enough to be with them even though you know him better than anyone else. If anyone can help them with that final blow, it's you."

"He also knows me inside and out, Mike. He knows me as much as I know him, maybe even more. He knows every single one of my strengths and every single one of my weaknesses. He knows about all of my trauma and all I know is how he works and how he thinks. He even knows my birthday , Mike. He knows my relationships with you and with my mom and with Jonathan. He knows everything about me. In comparison to him, I know nothing. I'm safer and more helpful away from Creel House than anywhere near it."

"But you're stronger than him."

"No I'm not."

"You are. Even while flayed, you were smart enough to speak to us through morse code. You were strong enough to fight against him to tell me what he made you do. You fought back and you won."

"Well I can't do that again, and I don't want to do that again. If I fight him again, Mike, I'm not coming out of it alive."

"Don't say that."

"It's true! I'm not going to sit here and lie to you just because you love me!"

Will's hands fly to cover his mouth at his words. Mike just stares blankly. This was definitely not expected. Especially for Will, since he knows how he feels about Mike. Would he ever tell him? Or would it be better for him not to know? That's not something Will is sure he's ready for. After all, Mike only told him out of necessity, and he didn't even say it out loud. It was just words written on a paper.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mike asks, tapping his fingers on his desk.

"No."

"Can I talk about it?"

"Sure."

"Will, I don't want you to be uncomfortable because of my feelings for you. I mean, that's literally why I didn't want to tell you. So you wouldn't be uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable."

"Then what is it?"

"Do you know why I don't lie to you?"

"I'd hope it's because we're friends and friends don't lie."

"Well, yeah, but that's not the only reason. And I really don't want to have to say it."

"I think I might already know," Mike says, rolling his chair over to where Will is standing with his back to the wall. 

"Mike, stop."

"What?"

"I can't."

"Can't what, Will? All I did was come closer to you."

"But I know what you're wanting."

"And what is it that I want? Since you're so sure."

"Mike..."

"What?"

"You're teasing me."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're being mean."

"I'm not trying to. I just want you to talk to me."

"I don't want to talk. I don't want this . I don't want you ," Will says, trying to convince himself more than anything, trying to push Mike away one last time so that neither one of them can get hurt in the end.

"Okay," Mike says, pushing away from Will and grabbing Nancy's notebook off of his desk. "We should get going if we want to get this done in time."

Will lets out a deep breath, following Mike out of his room, down the stairs, and out of his house. Their walk is once again silent, and Will's not sure if it's because they got into an argument again or if it's because Mike is trying not to attract any creatures, but either way, Will doesn't like how it feels. He feels like he constantly has to look over his shoulder.

Out of the blue, Mike stops Will by putting his arm out in front of him, causing him to come to a halt. Mike puts a finger to his lips, mimicking a shushing noise as he takes a few steps forward, taking the shotgun he's been carrying and taking it off from around his neck, getting ready to aim it. Will puts his back to Mike's, moving one arm back to pull the pistol out of its place in Mike's belt.

"You know how to use that?" Mike asks, his voice barely audible.

"Yeah, and I can probably use the shotgun better than you, too."

"I can't tell if you're being serious or not."

"Well, if you give it to me then maybe you'll find out—"

Will is cut off by a gunshot and Mike's body movements against him as he fires the shotgun. Demodogs. Will looks from his left to his right, scanning. He's not seeing anything yet. Slowly, he and Mike begin to turn in a circle, covering all of their bases. Then, Will sees one on his left and fires his gun, followed by Mike shooting in the opposite direction, but he misses, the demodog beginning to run at them.

"Shit, give me the shotgun, Mike," Will says as he and Mike back away quickly.

"What? No! Nancy gave me the gun, I'm gonna use it."

"Well you clearly don't know what you're doing, so—"

"No. I'm not giving you the gun."

"Mike, I'm not asking. Give it to me," Will says, taking the shotgun from Mike and shoving the pistol into his hands instead.

Will quickly aims and fires a shot at the demodog, hitting him dead on. He then hears a growling noise behind him.

"Six o'clock," Will says, and Mike immediately turns and fires the pistol, resulting in a not-so-happy noise from the demodog.

"This is so much easier to use than that thing."

"Tell me about it. Where are all of these dogs coming from? We're getting swarmed."

"Do you think One knows?"

"If that were the case then he'd know we're not his biggest problem right now."

"Maybe he can sense you the same way you can sense him. Maybe that's how he found us and sent the demodogs after us."

"You mean he sent them after me."

"Yeah, whatever, just—" another shot, "—we need to go."

Mike drags Will along as demodogs continue chasing after them, each of them taking turns to turn around and shoot before looking ahead to make sure they don't trip and fall or step on the hivemind as they run toward the library. Once they get there, Will fires shot after shot as he slowly backs inside, Mike shutting the large doors as quickly as he can. Will slowly lets the gun down, setting it against the wall of the library, Mike putting the pistol back in his gun holder on his belt.

"I haven't been here in forever," Will says, Mike smiling a bit at his comment.

"No better time than in an alternate dimension during the apocalypse, right?"

"You're such a dork."

"Yeah. Hey, where did you learn to use a gun like that?"

"My dad. I don't really want to talk about it."

"You don't want to talk much about anything today."

"That's because there's more important things at hand."

"Just because there's something more important doesn't mean whatever's going on with you isn't important at all."

"Trust me, Mike. It's not important."

"If you say so."

Mike taps along the main counter of the library as he makes his way to the section of the library where the shelves are labeled 'non-fiction'. Will groans, setting his backpack on a table and slouching down into a chair.

"Why couldn't we do this above ground?" Will groans in complaint, laying his head down in his arms.

"Well we're not underground, and we had to get Nancy's notebook."

"It's stupid."

"It's necessary."

"How do you even find anything in here?"

"Dewey Decimal System."

"Huh?"

"It's how you find books. At the bottom of every book is a number. Science is 500-599. The numbers tell you what part of what genre of nonfiction each book is."

"God, you're such a nerd."

"Takes one to know one."

Mike scans through the bookshelves quickly, easily finding the science section and within that where the books they would be needing are. Will looks at the spine of a few of the books, looking at the numbers at the bottom. Sure enough, they're all the same.

"Huh."

Will shrugs and opens up a random one of the many books that Mike has brought over, and he's still getting more. On his final trip, Mike brings over a stack that covers his face, his arm barely reaching the top of the stack to keep all of the books from falling over. Will smiles and laughs at Mike as he helps him set the stack down, handing him a highlighter and book when he sits down.

"Are you ready to get to work?"

"I'm kind of excited, actually. I haven't really read in a while."

"I thought you loved reading?"

"I do, it's just that with everything going on I haven't really had the chance."

"But you had the chance to pick a fight with me?"

"Will—"

"Sorry. I meant that as a joke."

"Oh. Right. Of course you wouldn't...nevermind."

Mike buries his face in the book, Will unable to see him. Will frowns, looking down at his book and uncapping the highlighter. He hated reading. The only reasons he agreed to him and Mike going this route was because the way Lucas and Dustin went put them– especially Will– more at risk, and because he knew Mike would enjoy their reading assignment.

Will pondered it for a while. He saw how Mike's face lit up when Nancy had mentioned the library and how they'd have to be reading some books. He looked ecstatic. Like a kid on Christmas morning. And Will knows that shouldn't have been a deciding factor. This isn't about Mike. It's about Will and El and Vecna and the Upside Down, but it is not about Mike.

"Hey, I think I found something," Mike says, perking up and sliding the book across the table and turning it so it's right side up for Will.

"What am I looking at?"

"It's a timeline. Well, a best guess at what one would look like. There was this guy, and I can't think of his name but he had the idea of a timeline within time travel, and then even further than that he had the idea of a black hole. Basically, there's only one timeline in life throughout every dimension and every universe."

"Time travel?" Will asks, confused on Mike's explanation.

"Yeah. Dustin probably knows more about it than me– he's basically a genius– but what else could it be? A time freeze?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"But Vecna doesn't have any time powers."

"That we know of."

"Okay, well, what if it's not him that did this? What if it was someone or something else?"

"Like who? El? She hasn't been to the Upside Down since after I came back."

"So what if it was you?"

"What?"

"Think about it, Will. Why else would Vecna choose you? There has to be a reason. What if this is it?"

"No. No, I don't– I don't have powers ."

"How do you know? One didn't know until he was, like, 10."

"Yeah and I'm 17. I'm pretty sure I'd know by now."

"But what if, Will? It would make sense why he chose you again and again."

"Mike, I don't want to talk about it."

"Well we sort of have to. We have to cover every possibility."

"Okay. Say that I do have powers. I don't know what they are and I don't know how to use them. They're useless."

"You mean you're useless."

"What?"

"You always try and diminish yourself and put yourself off to the side, but Will, if you have supernatural powers that control time then you might be able to go back and stop this all from ever happening!"

"What if I don't want to?" Will yells, standing up from his seat and throwing his arms to the side before slamming his palms down on the table.

"What?"

"What if I don't want to? What if I don't want to go back and live through that again? What if I don't want to relive through that horror?"

"You wouldn't. That's what I'm saying. All of that trauma would be gone."

"Not all of it," Will mumbles.

Mike rounds the table, pulling Will into a hug, the two of them burying their heads in each other's necks. Will is holding back tears, not wanting to cry in front of Mike (and especially not in his arms). It was one of the few things he'd always tried to hide– his tears. With how much Mike already cares for and looks out for him, Will doesn't want to give him any more reasons. But right now it's all just too damn much, and that blockade of tears begins to fall.

"I'm sorry," Mike says, holding Will even closer, not letting go.

"It's not your fault."

"I know. I know. I love you."

"I love you," Will slips out, not even registering that he's done so.

Mike, however, realizes. He pulls back from Will just a bit, looking him in the eyes with wonder. Will wipes eyes and nose, trying to control the snot and tears running down his face. All the while, Mike just stares at him. Will wrinkles his nose, sniffling loudly as he looks at Mike with confusion.

"What?"

"You love me?"

"What?"

"You said that you love me."

"I did?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Sorry–? Sorry for what? You didn't do anything wrong."

"Loving you. I didn't want to. I tried so hard not to, but it didn't work. I tried everything, but no matter what it all came back to you, every single time."

"Is that not a good thing?"

"Not when you're you. Not after some of the things you've said and the things you've done."

"Will, I'm sorry."

"No, I know. I know you are. And I know that you'll say that a million times over until that day you die but...I can't forgive you. And yet I still love you anyways. I will keep on making up excuses for you in my head to give me a reason to keep on loving you, but I shouldn't. I shouldn't and I'm sorry."

"What does that mean, then?"

"It means that I can't let myself love you. No matter how much I do and no matter how much I want to, I can't let myself love you.

"So that's it?"

"Mike—"

"No, Will, I'm not mad. I just want to make sure."

"That's it."

"Okay," Mike says, finally letting Will go.

Will can feel himself cracking inside as Mike turns away and goes to the other side of the table, grabbing his leather jacket and slipping it on. With Mike no longer looking at him, Will lets the rest of his tears fall. He did it. He finally did. He finally ripped off that damned band aid, and as much as it is liberating, it also hurts like hell.

"Where are you going?" Will asks as Mike pushes his chair in and begins to walk away from the table.

"Outside."

"There’s a hoard of demodogs out there, in case you forgot."

"I'll take your gun."

"No," Will scoffs, Mike raising his brows.

"Oh well then are you coming with me?"

"No, because you're not leaving."

"I never said I was, I said I was going outside."

"I meant leaving the building."

“Well you can’t exactly keep me from doing so.”

"You know what? Fine. But don't call my name when you're getting mauled by a demodog and nipped at by demobats."

"Do you really have that little faith in me?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're trying to distance yourself. I get that. But hey, we're still best friends, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're still best friends," Will says, his face lighting up at the words and watching Mike smile before he leaves through the main door of the library.

Will stares for a moment longer before turning back to the table. He goes to his bag and grabs out their walkie talkie, tuning it to the designated channel. As he continues setting up their space, a book falls out, and it's all too similar to Nancy's. Must be Mike's.

Will knows that he shouldn't. He knows that he should put it back in the bag and forget about it, but he has an aching feeling that he has to look through it, and so he does. Despite every conscious move he's made to separate himself from Mike, and despite his brain telling him not to, his heart betrays him.

Grabbing the book, Will makes his way to a more secluded part of the library. During middle school, he'd often go there to work on his homework or to make art without any distractions. And usually, Mike was there too.

Will sits down in the beanbag chair, taking a deep breath before opening up the notebook. The month on the first page reads 'October, 1985'. It's the day Will moved to Lenora. He reads the first line, and immediately he shuts the book again. 'I love him' . The first three words in the book are 'I love him' . What a wake-up call. But that would mean, too, that Mike has been bottling these feelings up for at least three years. That long? Will hadn’t even realized his own feelings until a few months prior to the entry, and he definitely hadn’t accepted them right up until the very end– when he was sure he was never going to see Mike again.

That belief, that him moving was the end of the line, made it easier somehow to allow himself to love Mike. After all, he was loving him from afar (in more sense than one). Not seeing Mike for all that time, not talking to him much at all, not sending any gifts or letters– all of that had made loving Mike easier. Will eventually had allowed himself to express that love in the form of art. Sometimes it would get a little out of hand, yes (handhold doodles be bygones), but it always took a beautiful form. And no one had ever known. Not until Mike had brought up the painting today and said those words, shouted them at his face and into his ears. The words ring in Will’s head, and he slams the book shut once again.

What is wrong with me? The question stumbles throughout Will’s brain. What is wrong with him? Or is it not him that was the problem? Will doesn’t know.

The main door to the library creaks open before shutting with a bang. Will hides Mike’s journal next to him, making sure that if Mike comes in he won’t see. Will wasn’t looking to get into another fight today. It’ll happen, he knows, but he doesn’t want to make that happen sooner. He’d rather their next fight be their last– the one before Will does what he knows deep down has to be done. Mike will be pissed, Will knows, but he’d rather Mike live and never forgive him than be dead and not have a choice. At least alive, Mike can manage to do something . 

“Will?” Mike calls, and Will shifts in his spot on the beanbag for a second, making himself more comfortable before Mike comes into the room. “Oh. There you are. Of course you’re in here.”

“Here I am.”

Mike simply stares. There’s a longing behind his eyes, one that Will has seen before but forced himself to forget. Mike’s eyes are encapsulating. They make you want to stare into them forever, never looking away or at anything else ever again. And because Will is looking so intently, he notices when Mike’s gaze shifts down the slightest bit, his mouth parting, but not to speak.

Will can feel his body begin to become hot all over, anxiety coursing through him. He knows what Mike is thinking, and he knows what Mike wants, and he wants it too but doesn’t at the same time and he wants to look away but he can’t . And because he can’t look away it gives Mike the advantage. Mike is standing right by the beanbag, the perfect distance to pull Will’s face up to meet his own. It feels surreal. Neither one says a word. It’s too much, too little, too messy, too perfect, too many things good and bad all at once.

“God, I want to kiss you,” Mike says finally, breathlessly, practically choking on his own words.

Their faces are nowhere near close, but it feels like they’re already touching, noses brushing, lips melting into each other. Will can picture it so clearly in his mind, as if it’s more of a memory than anything else but he knows that it isn’t and so desperately wants it to be. And he knows Mike loves him, and Mike knows he loves him, and now Mike is saying he wants to kiss him even though Will has made it clear that he can’t . Will has put everything he has into pushing Mike and his feelings for Mike far, far away, but—

Will can’t do this. He can’t take it any longer. He gives in. He urgently pulls Mike down by the back of his head and neck and into a fervent kiss. Will grips at Mike’s hair and Mike’s hands roam to hold onto Will’s body so they don’t fall to the ground, but it happens anyway when Will rolls them over, tongues slipping in and out of each other’s mouths and saliva covering both their lips and chins and cupid’s bows. There’s life in it and joy in it and it’s solemn and full of sorrow. It is every emotion the two boys have felt toward each other in their seventeen years of living and fifteen years of being best friends and being in love without the other knowing and it is wonderful and amazing and it is extricating .

“I love you,” Will breathes, his lips barely parting from Mike’s for more than a second to let the words slip out of his mouth as Mike sits the two up so he doesn’t choke on his own spit.

“I love you,” Mike whispers back, trailing a line of kisses from Will’s ear back to his mouth.

“I hate you but I love you,” Will says now, he and Mike still kissing, still holding each other.

“I know,” Mike says, giving Will another kiss before continuing, “And you have every right to hate me but I could never hate you.”

At this point they’re both just adding fuel to the fire. Will feels like his life depends on this kiss and that if he doesn't get enough he’s going to simply die . And he could.

As they press their lips together and swap germs and breath in each other, Will’s mind is racings between ‘I love Mike’ , ‘I hate Mike’ , and ‘I could die before this is over’ . And every one of those statements is painstakingly true. And Will only wants one of them to be, that he loves Mike, but that’s not the reality that he lives in and so he decides to pretend like it is so he can keep kissing Mike, keep loving him, keepin holding him in his arms.

“God, I love you,” Will says, holding back tears because fuck , he loves Mike and he wishes he didn’t.

“I love you. I have loved you for years, Will. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And they’re kissing again, unable to keep themselves from doing so. The world is ending and they’re kissing in the corner of the library of the Upside Down confessing their love to one another for the tenth time already. So fucking selfish , Will thinks to himself, but only for a moment because he’s kissing Mike Wheeler .

Will’s not sure what to say. He feels liberated yet disgusting at the same time. He feels awful knowing that Mike wasn’t honest with El or himself while they were together, that he wasn’t honest with Will. He feels awful because he never told El about his feelings and because he pretended like everything was okay, all the time. He let everyone believe that the painting was for a girl and that he liked a girl and that he brought it to the roller rink because the girl was going to be there . It made Will absolutely lose his mind and now he’s kissing Mike . Mike, the ‘girl’ he made the painting for. Mike, the ‘girl’ that he liked. Mike, the ‘girl’ that he brought the painting to the airport for because Mike is the girl that everyone thinks he’s in love with , and now he’s kissing him .

“Mike, I swear I’ve loved you my whole life.”

The two continue kissing, Mike only now moving his hands up to cup Will’s cheeks, palms flat against his face, only his fingers being bent at all. Will holds onto the collar of Mike’s leather jacket. It’s the one thing Will deep down has always known Mike has wanted to do, something that he himself has fantasized about a time or two before– but Mike was different. Will knows. He knows every time Mike has looked at his lips because he’s clocked it into his brain, saving it for a later date. For a time when it might be useful, helpful, necessary . He’d drawn Mike’s lips thousands of times from those moments engraved in his brain because he couldn’t help but look too.

“My whole fucking life,” Will emphasizes, somehow managing to pull Mike closer, Mike’s hand traveling to Will’s back to keep him from falling backwards.

“God I love you, Will,” Mike says in response, deeping their kiss further.

And yeah, they’re no longer kissing. Not anymore. Now they’re simply full-on making out, but neither one cares . Fuck the world, fuck Vecna, fuck the Upside Down. They don’t care that everything’s gone to shit. Not at this moment. Not while they have their lips on each other, spilling out their love to one another time and time again because now that they’ve started they just can’t stop and there’s nothing else for them to do other than kiss each other , but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Will, you’re amazing. So fucking amazing,” Mike mumbles between kisses. “I should’ve told you sooner. Should’ve made the connections quicker.”

“Mike stop talking and just kiss me,” Will begs, not in the mood for explanations or hearing any words other than love and praise.

“I love you.”

“Mike, I love you.”

“I know. I love you.”

“I hate that I love you.”

Will presses his lips firmly to Mike’s again, and they continue on like that for a while. The constant ‘I love you’ filling the air, Will’s desperate attempt to sabotage the moment that consistently fails and only makes them both swoon harder, their hands holding each other’s faces— Will is sure this is what heaven feels like. Mike’s lips on his, breathing each other in, words barely reaching above a whisper but someone sounding like the loudest part of a song, one that only they could recite and memorize and sing to each other. And by the end of their makeout session Will is tired and breathless but so full of love and laying in Mike’s arms with Mike lazily kissing his lips and forehead and nose and eyelids and ears and cheeks and jaw and neck and shoulders and collarbones, leaving no bit unscaved by his lips. Yeah , Will thinks to himself, brain shuffling through all the movies he’s seen– all the show’s he’s watched, all the books he’s read, all the life he’s lived– this is love .

Just as Mike is leaving another light kiss to Will’s collarbone, the walkie talkie crackles to life. Mike’s eyes blink slowly, Will detangling himself from Mike’s grasp. He walks over to the table, picking up the walkie talkie and listening to it for a second again. The voice is only slightly shaky, mostly firm and strong. A woman’s voice. Nancy.

“Mike, do you copy? Over.”

“It’s Will. I copy. Over.”

“Is Mike still with you? Are you both okay? Over.”

Will looks at Mike who’s slowly getting up from the floor, readjusting his leather jacket as he does so. Will smiles, resulting in Mike blowing him a kiss his way with a wink, and Will chuckles a little when afterwards Mike nearly falls forward onto his face.

“Will?”

“Yeah–” his voice cracks, “–yeah, we’re good, Nancy. We’re good…Over.”

“When was your last contact with Lucas and Dustin? Over.”

“When we left the gate. Why? Over.”

“Since getting through watergate we haven’t been able to get a hold of them. Over.”

“Have you contacted Mom and Hopper and El? Are they okay?”

“I don’t know, but we wanted to reach you guys first. Shit—”

The line goes silent, only crackling on the other end. Then, after a minute, a new voice enters. It’s Steve.

“We’ve got problems and I have no idea how to work this thing. We are getting swarmed by bats right now and we still haven’t gotten to our location and—” he sounds like he’s on the verge of a breakdown.

“Listen Thing 1 and Thing 2, whatever you do, do not leave the library. Capiche?” Robin .

“You got it, Robin. Over,” Mike says, taking the walkie talkie from Will.

“Over and out,” Robin says, and the crackling stops.

Will immediately grabs Mike’s bag, beginning to empty everything out and only put inside things he might need to kill Vecna. He leaves his jacket, not wanting to have that extra added weight. He doesn’t care if he gets Upside Down on him. He’s had it inside him. Outside wasn’t that bad. He ties his bandana around his neck again, putting on his shoes.

“What are you doing?” Mike asks as he tries to signal for Lucas and Dustin.

“I’m going.”

“Obviously, but where?”

“Creel House.”

“Cr– Creel House ?”

“Yup.”

“Will, you heard what Robin said. We’re supposed to stay here.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You can stay here with me and we can sit together in the beanbag with the walkie talkie and our books and Nancy’s journal and wait for them to need us to find any information for them that they might need.”

“ You can do that. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t want you, Mike! He wants me. Me and El. We’re what he wants, so I’m going to give it to him.”

“Why?”

“Because Steve and Robin and Nancy and Erica and Jonathan are getting attacked, Lucas and Dustin are probably dead, Max is in a coma, and four other people have already died. I don’t want to add anyone else to that list when by going with him I could prevent it. If my mom had just let me die that day in the Upside Down—”

“Stop it.”

“It’s true, Mike, and you know it is. You said yourself that I’m what One wants, right? I’m what he’s after? Not just El, but me too. That’s what you said. And if you really believe that then you’ll know that we’re the only ones that can end this, even if that means our deaths.”

“I’m not letting you get yourself killed!”

“You don’t get to decide that! I’m not your boyfriend. We’re not dating. All we did was kiss and admit that we love each other. It’s a done deal. I can die happy with that. Why can’t you?”

“Because I shouldn’t have to!”

“No one should, but that’s the reality we’re living in. Wake up, Mike! This isn’t some fairytale fantasy movie where the good guys win every time. People are going to die. Let one of them be me.”

“Will, I can’t.”

“Mike, please. I am standing here begging you to let me do one thing right. One thing, Mike. Let me make things right. Let me fix this. If you really love me—”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. Don’t do that, don’t do this . Don’t do this to me, Will. Don’t do this,” both have tears in their eyes, Will’s mournful and Mike’s begging, Will’s heart breaking for the final time, never to be fixed again.

“—If you really love me you’ll let me go.”

“Will—”

“Mike, please .”

“Fine. Go. But the second you get there, I want you to call me on their walkie talkie.”

“Deal.”

“Will, I love you.”

“I know.”

“I love you so much.”

Mike pulls Will into a quick firm kiss, pulling back again but not wanting to let go. Then, he does one thing the two haven’t done since they were fourteen years old. They hug. Mike pulls Will in, tightly wrapping his arms around him, breathing him in. They sob into each other’s arms, the hug tight and warm and familiar, but just as heartbreaking as their last. It lasts for longer than it probably should, neither one really wanting to let go. When they do, Will doesn’t waste any more time. He grabs the bag and slips the straps onto his shoulders, turning and leaving for the front doors of the library. He picks up his shotgun, leaving out the giant doors. This ends now .

Will walks. He walks for a while. He walks for what feels like forever, but he keeps up his energy the entire time. Does a part of him wish he’d accepted Mike’s offer and lied in a bean bag with him, wrapped in his arms just waiting for someone to call them? Abso-fucking-lutely. But he made his choice– the right choice , he reminds himself. He wouldn't be doing this otherwise. But he can’t let anyone else die. Not because of him.

When Will is finally standing in front of Creel House, it feels almost surreal. He’s seen drawings of the building, old photos from newspapers, but he’s never actually been here, standing in front of it. The most noticeable feature, in his opinion, are the windows at the top. It sticks out to him more so than anything else. There’s the stained glass window, too, of a single rose. Beauty and the Beast , Will references in his head, noting the yellow background to it. He pushes the door open and is immediately greeted by almost being speared in the face by his mom. Joyce drops the spear, pulling Will into a hug, but it doesn't last long.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Mike. Where is he? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Mom. He’s fine, just– where’s your walkie talkie?”

“Here. Right here,” Joyce hands it to him, and he immediately switches it to the proper channel.

“Mike? Over.” “Will? Will, is that you? Over.” Mike’s voice through the walkie talkie is something Will will always know.

“It’s me. Over.”

“So you’re okay? Over.”

“For now. I have to go. I’ll let you know if anything happens. Over and out.”

Will shuts down the conversation quickly, not wanting to get too far into it. The walkie doesn’t crackle again, so he assumes Mike got the message. Will hands the walkie talkie back to his mom, smiling at her tightly before putting his bag down in the corner. The house is silent.

“Where’s Hop and El?”

“Upstairs in the attic. They have me standing guard.”

“Why is it so quiet?”

“Mind fight.”

Will nods, slowly making his way to the staircase. He makes sure not to have any of the steps creak. He doesn’t want to give himself away to Henry just yet. As he goes, he notices the clock on the wall, and that at the top his name is engraved there. But not just ‘Will’. It says ‘William’ . A cold chill shivers down Will’s spine as he continues making his way up, knocking once on the wall of the attic once he reaches the top. There they are. El and Vecna. They’re standing facing each other, but both have their eyes closed. Both look serious, and El’s nose is bleeding the most Will has ever seen.

“What are you doing here? It’s dangerous,” Hopper says when he hears Will’s knock.

“He wants both of us. Let him get me.”

“Kid, no. I have spent the last near decade keeping you safe.”

“Hop, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

Will brushes past Hopper, shoving his shotgun into his hands. He makes his way over to El, resting a hand on her shoulder. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s supposed to do. First he tries shutting his eyes, but that doesn’t work. He tries willing himself in there with her, but that doesn’t work either. Will looks at El next to him, his sister, the only person he could really talk to that entire week he’d been missing.

“El? I know you can hear me. I need you to stop fighting. For just one second, I need you to leave the mind space. Let him get me—”

Will can barely finish his sentence before El has an arm stretching out, using her powers to pin him to the wall. She’s not hurting him by any means, simply holding him there so he doesn’t get in the way and doesn’t get hurt. But Will can’t have that. Not right now.

“El, let him. I can fight.”

El doesn’t budge, focusing on her task at hand: killing Vecna.

Will shuts his eyes again, thinking back to the clock. The rose. Beauty and the beast. It all ties together. The beast had limited time. The rose is the same symbol as the clock. Time. Will squeezes his eyes shut tighter, his hands balling into fists before he loses his strength and gives up. But then he falls to the ground harshly, and when he opens his eyes everyone around him is still, all of the particles in the air are still– everything is still except for one thing. Vecna.

“It’s nice to see you again, William.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Will says, standing up quickly and brushing himself off.

“I see you’ve found out about your gift.”

“Is this why you took me? So I could freeze the world?”

“No. I wanted you for something far, far greater.”

“Well now you have me. Just leave my friends and my family alone. You have me. We can do whatever we want now, right?”

“I always knew you would join me. There was always just one problem.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“That party of yours. And Mike.”

“Don’t lay a finger on him– any of them.”

“Too late. Your time has come, William.”

“No. No, I don’t think it has because right now time doesn’t even exist. If you get to make up the rules, so do I. My rules are that if I join you, then you leave my dimension alone. We stay here. We rule the Upside Down. I can be your puppet. Sure. I don’t care. Just leave my dimension and all of the people who belong in it alone .”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Come on, Henry. Let’s start a new party, you and me.”

Everything starts up again, El opening her eyes and quickly turning to throw Vecna against the wall. He fights back, but instead of directly against El he raises Will up into the air, closing his throat in on him, choking him without being anywhere near him. This was Will’s plan, and it was working. El fights harder, and Vecna begins to turn to dust. Still, Will’s lungs aren’t getting any air, his blood isn’t getting any oxygen, and he’s beginning to feel lightheaded. He feels like his neck is about to snap and that his esophagus is going to break.

Will is close to death. He can feel it. He can feel as he starts to slip in and out of consciousness, but he doesn’t try to fight it. Henry is right. His time has come. But he’s not afraid anymore. If you had come to him a few years before, he would have screamed and been terrified at even the thought of encountering Vecna, let alone coming up with a plan all on his own to stop him once and for all. But he’s not scared. Not this time. Not anymore.

He watches as El continues to fight against him, as Henry continues to choke Will, cutting off his air. And Hopper is shooting at him and throwing t-shirts covered in gasoline and lit on fire at him, and his mother is fighting too, but El and One are both strong as hell and then Will feels it. That last breath. He falls, eyes fluttering shut for the last time as Vecna turns into complete dust. Will’s heartbeat goes from beating the fastest it ever has to very quickly slowing down. As he falls to the ground, Vecna finally turns to dust. And then, black.

#byler #will byers/mike wheeler #mike wheeler/will byers #will byers #mike wheeler #angst #love letters #will byers loves mike wheeler #mike wheeler loves will byers #will byers needs a hug #protective mike wheeler #will byers has powers #heavy angst #teen angst #angst and romance #romance #eventual romance #drama and romance #love #love confessions #boys in love #declarations of love #vecna's curse #first kiss #last kiss

[serendipitouswasteland]

...and I Saw You On the Swings

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: byler pov: third person written: September 5, 2022 first published: September 5, 2022 word count: 6,972 - summary: Mike has finally started getting his life on track. Sure, it took a while, and it could have been easily avoided if he'd just been honest with himself from the beginning, but he was afraid. Now, though, he's come to his senses, and he's ready to be truthful to to everyone that he's been lying to– especially Will.

Mike holds El's hand in his from across the table, El's eyes on Mike's as he looks at their hands, both of them having calm, sweet smiles on their faces. Things had been different lately. A good different. And sure, they weren't together anymore, but they still enjoyed the closeness of each other and the comfort that came with the physical touch from the touch of one another. El opens the palm of her hand as Mike begins to trace circles, both of them with their face in their palm.

"Mike," El says, and Mike waits a moment before meeting her eyes with his own.

"Hm?"

"You should tell him."

Mike's smile wavers a bit, trying his best not to frown. El shares in his expression, reaching her other hand across the table now. She looks at him with a sincere and serious look, one of love and kindness and acceptance. Mike's grown to love how much she cares for him, how she'd do anything for him– for any of them. He's not sure what he'd do without her. She's one of his best friends.

"He loves you, you know," El says, almost like it's a known fact to everyone.

And Mike knows it– or, he tells himself he knows it– but he doesn't believe it. Will loving him back? It felt too surreal to even begin to comprehend. How could the most selfless boy on earth love Mike Wheeler? It didn't make sense to him. Nothing about loving Will makes sense to him. Hell, love itself is still so confusing to Mike. He doesn't know how he got it to be so fucked up. Was it because he did actually love El romantically at some point? Or was he trying not to love Will? Does he even really love Will? There was so many questions Mike and asked himself that, at some point, he stopped trying to answer them.

There is, however, the fact of Mike knowing he loves El. And while he's not sure if he ever loved her romantically, he does know he does love her. He knows that he cares her and, just as she would do anything for him, he would do anything for her. That was one of the reasons he was so scared to tell her the truth. What would happen then? But El was kind and open and accepting of all that Mike had spilled out to her that day– the rambling, the crying, the frustrated groans, and the long, messy, and drawn out confession that went with that.

Telling El had been made easier when, although Mike had been planning on telling her that day, El had come up to him first and said the words "we need to talk". Mike was quickly able to assume what was coming, and he was wanting to know what El had to say. El wants to break up with me? But why? He remembers the slight confusion running through his head, but when El had explained it to him, it made sense.

"I love you, but I need to be there for Max and for Lucas." She needed to focus. But that wasn't all she had said. "You have been distant from me. And from Will."

Mike immediately responded with a self-deprecating laugh followed by the word "yeah". He'd mumbled off some other words, too, but none of them really mattered when things fell silent and El spoke again.

"Why?"

She'd said it so gently and genuinely that Mike almost broke on the spot. He'd opened his mouth to speak, but it went dry, the words getting caught itn his throat. It took him a few minutes before he could get out the word "I". From there, he started slowly with his explanation. As he went on, and as El asked more questions to better understand what he was getting at, he slowly started to fall apart. Piece by piece he broke down in front of her, but he was thankful that it was her. He was thankful that she was there and gave him the comfort and assurance that he needed in the moment.

Mike remembers the moment he said "and I love him", his vision foggy as tears filled his eyes and were streaming down his face uncontrollably, using the bottom of his palms to try and wipe his face, but nothing working. He remembers how El had quickly pulled him into a hug, tilting her head up to be resting on his shoulder. Mike buried his head in her neck and his sobs broke free. He'd mumbled out a few "sorry"s, and every time El would said "It's okay, Mike. It's okay."

"How are you so sure?" Mike asks, and El smiles and laughs a little at the oblivion that Mike still faces.

"Because he's my brother, and he tells me things. Things that he couldn't possibly ever say to your face. Not unless he knows how you feel."

"So why not tell him I love him? Why tell me how he feels instead of the other way around? Wouldn't it be better if he confronts me instead of me confront him?"

"Mike, you know as well as I do that he would never believe it. Not that he'd think either of us would lie, but...Even if it came from you, his best friend, the person he trusts more than anything in the world, he'd think Henry was back. He'd think that Henry had finally gotten to him. That that was it. That it was over for him. And I...I think that if it's not you who says it? I feel like it would send him into a downward spiral because it's not you. Does that make sense?"

"I guess, but if he won't believe me then why do you want me to tell him?"

"Because you both deserve that honesty. And besides, if he does laugh in your face or say that you're lying, you have the best chance of changing his mind."

"What if I can't get him to believe me?"

"Then things might not really be the same again, but then maybe you can both move on and be genuinely happy."

"Happier," Mike corrects, emphasizing the -er in the word.

"Right. Happier," El repeats, copying the way Mike said it.

The two share a small laugh, holding both of each other's hands now as they have smiles spread across their faces. Of course they love each other. How could they not? Mike pulls on of El's hands to his face, kissing the back of her hand lightly before bringing their hands back down again. El removes on of her hands from Mike's, raising it to his face to move a strand of hair out of the way before holding his cheek in her palm. Mike falls into her touch, smiling warmly.

"You should tell him," El says lastly, repeating it to show him the importance of it. She's right.

Mike waits outside of the hospital room with Lucas while El spends time with Max. No one is sure what exactly it is that she does, but they each know not to bother her (per her request). I need to be there for Max... El's words ring in Mike's brain. ...be there... It was as if she meant actually there, in Max's mind. But he wouldn't question her on it. If she wanted to open up to him about it, he'd be there for her, and he'd told her that, but he's not going to force anything out of her.

Lucas bumps Mike in the arm with his elbow, grabbing his attention. Mike turns his head to face Lucas, his eyes shifting down just a bit at the inch difference in their height. Lucas glances through the hospital room door before turning to Mike again, nodding for him to follow him down the hall.

"Has she told you anything?" Lucas asks with hope and sincerity. Mike wishes he could give Lucas the answer he wants, but...

"No. Have you talked to Max's mom lately? What has she said about her plan?"

"She said that she wants to keep her on life support, but she doesn't know how much longer she can keep paying for everything. I just don't get how it happened. She was fine and just in a coma before. She didn't need to be on life support. And then her lungs just...collapsed, and—"

"Hey, she's going to be okay. I mean, El...I don't know what it is that she does, but she goes in there with confidence and determination every day, and every day she's just as confident that she'll be able to wake Max up. And I believe that."

"I'm scared shitless, Mike. I don't know what I'd do without her. Either of them."

"I believe in her. El is going to wake Max up, and Max is going to be right back in your life like she never left. And things may be different now, but she's still going to love you and treat you with the same love that she always has. She's still going to be Max."

"You think so?"

"I know so," Mike says. I have to.

"What about Will? How's he doing? He won't talk to me or Dustin about any of it. He never has. It's always been you and Joyce that he's opened up to about all of it, not us."

"I mean, he's holding up, I guess. I don't really know. Something is different this time around. Maybe it's because he now knows that One has been the one who put him through everything, but...I don't know. He just feels more distant. I mean, Joyce is in the dark, too. She asked me about him just like you did. And El said that he tells her things that he doesn't tell even me, but...I don't know. I feel like there's something else going on, and a part of me is afraid of what that might be."

"You don't think that he could become evil, do you?" Lucas asks, less of his own thoughts and more of trying to get into Mike's own.

"Who? Will? No," Mike says with a scoff at the end, biting his bottom lip as he pictures Will in his mind. My Will? Not possible.

Mike feels a beat in his chest at his thoughts. My Will. It was something so trivial and yet to him it was the most important thing in the world. My Will. Of course, he knows Will isn't his, but there was something that connected them, that tied them together...like they belonged with one another. That's what it was. That is why it's "My Will".

"What are you thinking about?" Lucas asks, an almost knowing look on his face, and that's when Mike realizes he's blushing.

"Nothing, nothing, it's just...it's Will, you know? He's just..." Mike bites his bottom lip again, feelings like such a teen in love. He wishes he could say he hates it, but he doesn't.

He loves the feeling he gets inside whenever he thinks about Will or when Will is around. He loves the way that he'll get all smiley at just the mention of Will's name. The effect that Will has on him has got to be one of Mike's favorite things in the world. He wouldn't change it for anything. He loves loving him.

"Yeah, I know," Lucas says, a similar but not quite as prominent look on his face to Mike's. "When was the last time you talked to him?"

"Not since yesterday. I promised him that I would talk with him every day, but I went by this morning and he wasn't there, so..."

"Any ideas of where he might be?"

"Too many," Mike says, a sudden fear and worry creeping inside of him. What if One got him? What if Will is...there?

"Hopefully he's at one of the good ones and not...well, I don't have to say it for you to know what I'm thinking of."

Mike shakes his head.

"God, he doesn't deserve this, Lucas. He doesn't deserve any of it. He is the most selfless and kind person that I know, and this is how the world repays him? It's fucked. And I want One to pay so badly because this is all his fault. Why couldn't he fucking just leave Will alone, you know? Why couldn't it have been someone else? Why couldn't it have been Troy? Why couldn't it have been me? But no. He had to choose Will, of all people, and now I have to worry about him. Every day I have to worry that something bad could happen to him at any second and I hate. I fucking hate it because he doesn't like me hovering over him but I can't help it! I– I don't know my life without him."

"I know the feeling. And yeah, it sucks," Lucas says.

The two fall into a silence of mutual understanding. They both have to worry about the people they love slipping through their fingers at any moment. Any of Max's organs could stop working at moment and she could enter multi-organ failure and die. Will could get possessed or kidnapped again if he's ever alone for more than five minutes, and who knows what shit Henry would put him through before he passes.

"You're worrying about him," Lucas says, and only when Mike looks over at him does he realize his brows had been furrowed.

"What? Oh, uhm...yeah. Yeah, I guess...I guess it's just a habit now. I mean, after everything, I just don't know how I could not."

"Even before you would worry about him all the time."

"No I didn't," Mike says, not believing Lucas's words.

"Mike, you're like a brother to me. An annoying brother that I can't stand sometimes, but also one that I would never lie to and always look out for. So when I tell you that you have always put Will before everyone else, I'm not lying."

Mike furrows his brows once again, smushing his lips together tightly and pulling back the corners of his mouth as he's deep in thought. He blinks a few times as memories begin to flood through his mind from before eighth grade. He wasn't like that with Will before, was he? Sure, they'd always been close, but...oh. Mike's mind stumbles across a hidden memory from the day he and Will met Lucas for the first time. Troy had been bullying the two of them and then Lucas showed up. He'd stood up for them and defended them. Sure, it subjected him to bullying of its own nature, but he put what was morally right before anything else.

Mike remembers that even after Troy went away, Lucas had tried to help Will up (who had previously been pushed to the ground), but Mike hadn't let him. Instead, Mike was the one to help Will up, brushing him off and wrapping and arm around him as he asked those three little words that he's seemed to ask more and more as the years have gone on– "Are you okay?" Will had told Mike that he was okay, and he smiled and hugged Mike quickly before going and hugging Lucas and thanking him. Mike had almost protested, but when he saw the smile on Will's face he couldn't help but thank Lucas, too.

"Oh my god, I was such an asshole to you!" Mike exclaims, and Lucas lets out a laugh, bellowing loudly. How could Mike have forgotten the day he met one of his best friends?

"You practically hated me! It took Will sitting the two of us down together at lunch and him forcing you to be nice to me for you to stop being an ass and actually start being my friend."

"God, he's always held this party together. I don't know what I'd do without him."

"Maybe you should tell him that," Lucas says, and Mike lets out a small chuckle.

"You know, El said something similar earlier today."

"Maybe it's a sign," Lucas say spookily, and the two fall into a small bit of laughter after that, too. "No, seriously? Maybe you should. I can leave with El when she's done if you want."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She's my friend, too, you know."

"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be great. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks, man."

"Of course. Now go."

Mike smiles and is about to walk off, but he stops to give Lucas a hug first before running off down the white hospital hallway. He rushes down the stairs, bursting through the large glass doors at the hospital entrance. The cold air hits his skin and he stops in his tracks, panting and out of breath. Maybe I shouldn't have run so fast, Mike thinks to himself. I am not physically fit for this. Mike takes a moment to regain his strength before looking at his watch. It's nearing 8 P.M. and the sun will be finished setting soon. Mike places a hand on his head, not sure where to check first. Castle Byers? Will's old house? Then it hits him.

The school playground.

Mike takes off in a sprint once again, knowing the way to the place from any point in town like the back of his hand. During their summers in elementary school, Mike and Will would always meet up at the school and sneak into the playground to go on the swings together. It was their favorite thing to do. Once they reached middle school they slowly stopped doing it as much, but they didn't quite mind. They still had each other. But Mike knows full well that if he had gone there alone sometimes, Will had too, and this was the best bet of where Will was now. After all, Will doesn't know that Mike rebuilt Castle Byers, so he wouldn't go there. And his old house? It just wouldn't make sense.

Mike runs down the streets of Hawkins, making his way to his old elementary school. He gets a couple of looks from some people, but not too many. If there was a time for it to be an apocalypse, this was the best. He's not sure he'd be able to go through with everything if he had people staring at him the entirety of his way there.

As Mike is running, his feet moving faster than he can even comprehend, his mind is filled with so many thoughts. What if Will rejects me? What if he's not in love like El says? What happens if he doesn't believe me? What if Vecna gets me?

The thoughts eat Mike alive, causing him to trip over his own two feet, but he doesn't let the stumble stop him from keeping going. As soon as he hits the ground his pushes himself up again, not missing a beat, his feet getting right back to work in their movements. Yeah, Mike thinks so himself. This is love.

Mike gets to a corner across the way from the schoolyard, and he can already see one swing swaying through the fence, someone gingerly kicking their legs to make the swing only move slightly. And though Mike can't make out who it is, it's as if a part of him knows that it's Will. Mike runs to the fence, quickly grabbing on and pulling himself up, throwing himself over the side. The wire clangs against the metal poles holding it up, Mike looking back at the fence for a second and up at the sky before he turns to his watch. 9 o'clock. The sky is a dim, dusty blue now, the stars slowly beginning to peek through. Mike's eyes then travel to the swings.

He begins to make his way over, a wave of emotions hitting him as he reaches the rusted red poles. He holds onto one for a moment, biting his lip as he looks at Will who's kicking his feet in the wood chips below him. Mike's hand slowly falls off of the pole as he moves to be sitting on the swing next to Will, opposite sides of when they first met.

Poetic.

"Hey," Mike starts, testing the waters to see if this is an appropriate time.

"Hey," Will responds after a beat of silence. Cold. Mike's not sure about this anymore.

"So..."

"Hm?" Will hums, turning his head to look at Mike for only a second before he's looking back at the ground again.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Mike asks, his eyes trained on Will, unmoving.

"Just stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Just stuff, Mike," Will says. He sounds almost angry.

"Okay."

Another beat.

"Did you need something?"

"No. I mean, yeah, but– can I tell you something?"

"Yeah. Go ahead," Will says, turning his full attention to Mike now.

Will repositions himself, pulling one leg up onto the swing and resting his other leg on top of it, one hand holding onto the chain that's holding him up and the other on his foot, staring at Mike patiently. Mike sighs, shifting his own body to be facing Will's own. He's scared. Nervous, even. He feels like he might puke. There's just something about Will looking at him that makes him feel all dizzy inside, and he struggles to collect all of his thoughts. Mike sighs, taking a deep breath, and then with one last glance at Will—

"You know, when you moved? That was really hard for me. I mean, I wasn't sure when the next time I'd see you again would be. And you're– you're just so...I mean, you're my best friend, and I was losing you. I felt like I was losing you. And I know that phones exist and I could have written letters– and I tried to call, Will, I did, but I never got through– and I guess that maybe it was more than just me missing my best friend, you know? And that sounds really stupid and I get that but...I don't know. I don't know, I guess I just...I want you to know that you're not just my best friend to me. You're so much more than that, and I'm not sure how much longer without telling you that...Fuck, um—"

"Tell me what?" Will asks curiously, leaning his swing closer to Mike's.

"I'm in love with you."

As soon as the words are out of Mike's mouth he feels a sense of relief. But all of that comes crashing down when Will let's bursts out into manic laughter. The shattering of Mike's heart is as painful as it would be to have glass cutting you open from the inside out. He can almost hear it breaking, the sounds ringing through his head along with Will's laughter, his head pounding. The sky around them turns dark, and the air becomes cold. No.

"W-what?" Mike gulps, hoping that what he thinks is happening isn't actually real.

"You think you're in love with me?" Will sneers, scoffing a bit at the end.

"I do!"

"No, you don't. You don't love me. You have no idea what love is."

Will stands up from the swings, his voice cold and distorted, his face stern, his body stiff. Mike feels shivers run down his spine– and not good ones– as Will begins to come closer. The swing Will had been on eerily squeeks in the background, Will leaning down close to Mike's face. And God, Mike wants nothing more than to pull Will into a kiss right now but he's too frozen in fear to do anything at all except stare. Will scoffs and spits in Mike's face, shaking his head as he laughs a bit more.

"Love," Will huffs, shoving Mike off the back of the swing by his fingertips.

Suddenly, Mike's surroundings change. He doesn't fall into wood chips. Rather, he falls onto the ground near the quarry. Mike's eyes immediately focus on the water, the scene in front of him being one that he knows all too well. It's one that has followed him into his dreams and nightmares ever since he saw it. Will's lifeless body is dragged out of the quarry water, police cars and firetrucks and an ambulance all around. Mike scrambles to his feet, running toward the young boy.

"Will!" Mike calls out, shoving everyone out of the way. "Will?"

Mike looks at the still body below him. No. Mike reaches his hands out, but he pauses midway. They look...different. Smaller. Rushing to the quarry water, Mike looks at his reflection. He looks just like he did that night. Mike pulls at his face, tears beginning to stream down. This can't be happening. This isn't real. Will isn't actually dead. Then Will's voice comes from somewhere nearby.

"See Mike? You're more worried about yourself than your best friend. And you say you love me?"

As soon as he turns around to face him, Mike is pushed forward into the water, and when he comes up for air he's in a different place once again. It's raining, and he's wearing a yellow striped shirt, gray shorts, sneakers, a green jacket...no. Mike runs his hands through his thick black hair, turning around in the woods that he's standing in. This can't be happening, Mike says to himself again, and he then hears Will's broken sobs and yells echo through the trees. Castle Byers.

Mike takes off into a sprint until he reaches the fort made out of tree branches and other pieces of wood, but Will isn't there. It's still completely in tact, not a thing having changed. Instinctually, Mike grabs the 'Castle Byers' sign and pulls it down, flipping it around as he crawls inside the fort and sits on the mattress that lies there. He gulps as his fingers gingerly trace over the letters carved there. M + W. Tears fill Mike's eyes once again, coming out in an ugly cry. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and he attempts to stifle his sobs as he looks at the person next to him. Will.

"Do you know what happened this night? Do you even remember?"

"Will, I'm sorry. I didn't– I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it, I swear. I'm sorry, Will. I'm so, so sorry."

"I can't believe you thought things would just go back to normal after that. And you never even apologized."

Now they're back in Mike's garage a few hours earlier, only this time Mike isn't in his own body. This time he's viewing it from the outside. Hugging the side of his house, Mike watches as the scene plays out in front of him, both young teens looking hurt and angry as the rain falls around them, their voices loud and upset, there words no better.

"You're destroying everything and for what?" Will shouts, his voice cracking as he throws his arms up in the air. "So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?"

"El's not stupid! It's not my fault you don't like girls!"

Mike's heart drops to his stomach. I said that? Guilt courses through Mike's body as well as disbelief for the words he said. He cusses at himself once, the rest being done inside his head. How could he blame Will for something like that? It's not like he had it much better. Because, yes, Mike has liked a girl or two before, but not like he does Will. Yet he blamed him for feeling the same?

"Look, I'm not trying to be a jerk. Okay? But we're not kids anymore. I mean what did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends?" But you didn't either. "That were just gonna sit in my basement and play games for the rest of our lives?"

"Yeah. I guess I did. I really did," Mike can hear the pain in Will's voice, and he watches as the teen gets on his bike and pedals away. I hurt him.

Behind him, Mike still hears his younger self calling Will's name even long after he's out of sight. He turns around at the same time as he did that day, watching as he walks inside his house quickly before returning to the garage wearing his green raincoat and Lucas in tow. Mike enters his garage now, going to the door to his house. When he opens it, he finds himself at Rink-O-Mania instead, exiting the girl's bathroom.

"She's not there?" He hears Will call from the wall across the way.

"No," Mike says, not bothering to stop and explain things to him, but the memory continues without his input.

"I didn't know they were gonna be here, Mike."

"Stop."

"I didn't know she was lying to you."

"Stop."

"I wasn't being a douche!"

"Would you please stop?"

"Well she was lying to you, Mike. Straight to your face, ever since you got here! And I've been a total third-wheel all day, it's been miserable. So sorry if I wasn't...If I wasn't smiling."

Just keep walking.

"Well what about us?" Will's voice rings through the air, and just like it had before it causes Mike to stop in his tracks and turn around.

"What?"

"You're mad that I didn't talk to you? It seems like you've made it super clear that you're not interested in anything I have to say."

"That's just not true," Mike says gently.

"You've called maybe a couple times. It's been a year, Mike. Meanwhile, El has like a book of letters from you."

"You don't even know what you're talking about!" Mike yells a little too loudly, but it has no affect on the moment.

"And us?"

"God, just stop, okay? Please, stop."

"Well we used to be best friends!"

"Well maybe I wanted to be more!" Mike yells, and suddenly everything around him stills. The memory changes.

Everything around make fades away except for Will. Will stays as the roller rink morphs into the Upside Down, blue vines and a dark sky, lighting everywhere. Will has almost a satisfied smile on his face, but there's something sinister about it. Something evil and cruel and Mike isn't sure what words he's about to hear next.

"You're too late, Michael. Your time has come."

A vine grabs Mike's ankle and he's quickly dragged from the spot he's standing and into Vecna's mind space, the Upside Down changing from a grayish blue to an eerie red. Mike reaches down at his ankle, working to get the vine undone, but it's useless as he's thrown against a pillar, his entire body being held back by vines of all sizes. He can't move.

Mike closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, trying to think of happy memories like he'd been told to if anything had ever happened to him, but his mind is shutting down. He's blanking. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to think harder. He thinks of his friends and how much fun they've always had, he thinks of El and the love she's given him, he thinks of his sisters and how, although annoying sometimes, they love him endlessly, and he even thinks of his mother– the first person to really tell him that she loves him, and that she will no matter what– but nothing works.

"Mike?"

Mike hears his name called, unable to make out by who from how far away it's sounding. It's too distant, too quiet. It's not enough. It can't reach him. He hears his name called again, followed by a faint string of cusses. A small bubble of light forms behind Vecna, but it's flickering too much. He can't see through it. It's too small, too paltry, too miniscule.

Mike begins to feel his lungs collapse, the vines tightening around his throat bruising his esophagus, making it impossible for him to breathe. He's choking on air, his eyes are watering from the pain. And there's nothing he can do about it. Mike closes his eyes tightly, balling his hands into fists, trying to get a hold of his thoughts so that, if he's about to die, he at least gets to choose what the last thing he sees is.

Mike opens his eyes and he's back at his old elementary school. But instead of him being on the swing where he'd been before, Will sitting next to him, Mike is standing on the pavement just outside the doors back inside. Then, Mike notices a figure standing next to him.

It's him when he was five years old, nervous as hell, scared, and alone. But he then starts to slowly take a few steps off away from the brick wall, and Mike just watches as the young boy makes his way across the pavement and over to the wood chip filled playground, his pace quickening as he gets closer to his destination. Young Mike stops a few feet away from another boy on one of the swings, him too being alone. As the other young boy says the word 'yes', Young Mike holds out his hand to be shaken, which the boy accepts.

"My name is Michael Lee Wheeler, but you can call me Mike for short. Like a nickname. What's your name?"

Mike can hear his own words in his head as vivid as the day he first said them.

Young Mike sits down on the swings next to the other boy, and both versions of himself watch as he responds.

"William Jacob Byers."

"I think I'll call you Will."

As Mike finishes going through his memory, the vision fades back into the place he was before, so he shuts his eyes as Vecna's hand comes up to his face. The last words Mike says are "it was the best thing I ever did", and then, black.

Mike's eyes open to a blurred and quickly moving bright light above him, flashing in and out quickly but never going dark. He blinks his eyes slowly a few times, unable to feel his legs or arms and move them. His heart starts racing as he begins to panic.

"Mike? Mike, it's gonna be okay. They're gonna get you help," he hears a voice say, but he can't see who it is.

"I can't see," Mike says, trying to reach out and grab the person speaking to him, but he can't. "I can't move."

"I know, Mike, I know. It's gonna be okay."

"Mike?" he hears another voice call now. Mom.

"Mom? Mom where are you? I– I can't see you. I can't see you."

"I'm right here, baby. I'm right here," Karen says, rushing up to the moving hospital bed as they rush it through the ER and down the hospital hall, her hands caressing Mike's hair.

"Mom I'm scared."

"You're gonna be okay, Mike. He's gonna be okay, right?"

"We'll do our best," a third voice says.

After that, Mike's not too sure what all happens, the silence causing him to fall into more of a silent panic. At some point he has a mask put over his face and is told to count back from ten, so he does as he's told. Mike's not sure how long he's out for after that, but he assumes it's a while from the limited knowledge he does have about surgeries. But he'd thought he just had broken bones. There must have been something severely wrong if they had to take him in right away.

Mike never asked what happened. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to hear each person's account of how that night went down. He had his own horror story of what happened. That was more than enough for him. A chair is pulled out next to Mike, and he smiles knowing who it is.

After everything, Mike had said that he wanted to leave. He wanted to get out of Hawkins. And he did. He left Hawkins, and he left Indiana. But he didn't go alone. Before leaving, Mike told Will everything. After they defeated Vecna and made sure everyone was okay, Mike finally felt like he could tell Will without that fear of it happening to him again lingering around him. The memory is still fresh in his mind.

"I'm leaving town."

The words aren't what Will was expecting at all. He'd known Mike wanted to leave, but he didn't know it was actually happening. Mike had never said anything to him.

"What?"

"Today. I'm leaving today. I don't know where I'm going, but I know that I can't stay here."

"You can't just leave without a plan, Mike."

"I know! I know, I just...I'll figure it out."

"Mike—"

"I'm not finished. There was something I wanted to say before I go."

"What?"

"I love you. I am  in love with you. And I know that I should have said something sooner. I should have said something before now because then maybe things would have turned out different. Maybe then things wouldn't have been so hard and we wouldn't have struggled so much and our relationship would be better off and not as awkward. I know that, Will. I know all of that, and I tried. Trust me, I did, but when I did is when...it's when he got me, and I didn't want that happening again. I got scared and I shut you out again and I'm sorry for that. But I love you, and I need you to know that. I needed you to know that I have always loved you. You are my best friend, Will, and I don't want anything to ever change that, but there are some things about you that make me feel something more. Like you're laugh.

"When you laugh I feel so happy because of all the shit that you've been through. You deserve to laugh and to be happy and to smile, and when you do, I do, and when you don't...when you don't I feel like hurting everyone and everything that has ever done you wrong. One, the demogorgon, the mind flayer, Troy, your father– even myself, because I've fucked up more times than I like to admit– because you didn't deserve any of what happened to you. And your eyes.

"The amount of times that I've seen tears form in your beautiful hazel eyes is insane, because you shouldn't ever cry. Not of sadness, anyways. You shouldn't feel like you have to cry. And I want to protect you from that. I want to make you feel like things are okay and that you're okay and that you don't have to cry, and that if you do cry that you don't have to do that alone. Then there's your humor.

"Your humor isn't something everyone picks up on, and I know that, but I do. I get your jokes, Will. I understand what you find funny and what makes you laugh because it makes me laugh, too. And I get that...I get that you're different. I get that you're not like most people. I'm not either. And I have been beating myself up over it trying to be normal, but I just can't do that anymore.

"I could go on for hours about all of the things I love about you, Will. I really could, and I would right now, but I have to go. But I just wanted you to know that I love you and that I am in love with you."

Mike is about to turn and leave, go off to wherever it is that he ends up, wherever life takes him, but Will's voice stops him.

"And I love you."

Now is not the time for this.

"Look, Mike, I get it. I get wanting to leave. So do I. But you can't just say all that you said and then do that. Not without waiting for me to respond and tell you how I feel, because that's not fair, and that's mean, and it hurts. It hurts that you're in love with me but that you would rather leave me and lose me than love me. But I don't feel like that about loving you.

"I would rather love you than do anything else in this world. When I said that you make me feel like I'm not a mistake at all, i meant it, Mike. No one makes me feel as okay and as sane as you do. When I am around you it is like everything I say and do and feel is right and okay and meant to be. When you're not around I can't stand myself, but you make loving you feel like the most natural thing in the world. You make me feel good for being different, Mike. You make me feel like everything in my life has fallen into place and that it's going to be okay and that I'm going to be okay.

"When I said that I will always need you, Mike, I meant it. I meant those words through and through. I need you, Mike, the same way that I know– that I hope– you need me. And I am scared of losing you. So don't sit here and say that you love me and then try and leave. You can't do that, Mike. You can't put all the pieces back together then rip it to shreds again. I won't let you.

"I get that you're scared. I'm scared. But don't be so scared that you're not willing to at least try and make things work. What ever happened to the best thing you've ever done?"

"What do you want me to do? Stay? Will, I can't."

"So let me come with you!"

And so he did.

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #mike wheeler loves will byers #will byers loves mike wheeler #childhood friends #best friends #friends to lovers #love confessions #confessions #vecna's curse #mike wheeler gets vecna'd #mike wheeler is not straight

[serendipitouswasteland]

When You Started Crying, Baby I Did Too, But When the Sun Came Up I Was Looking At You (When the Sun Came Up You Were Looking At Me)

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: buddie pov: third person written: March 11, 2022 first published: March 11, 2022 word count: 3,982 - summary: Buck and Eddie got married. Buck legally became Chris's father. Things changed. They were the same, but they changed. They weren't half anymore, they were full. Everything was full. Buck's heart was full. Eddie's heart was full. Their lives were finally full– complete.

This is that story. - A/N: I suggest listening to 'Out of the Woods' by Taylor Swift while reading this.

The wedding was beautiful. Small, consisting only of their closest friends and family (though, for Buck, his closest friends were his family), but still beautiful. Jee-yun was the flower girl. Maddie and Chimney were crying as they watched her walk down the aisle throwing the flower petals down. Eddie wore grey. His hair was fluffy. He watched as Buck walked down the aisle to him, tears welling in his eyes. How had he gotten so lucky? Buck wore an off-white. He finally decided to let out his curls. He gave Jee a big hug once he got to the altar, then hugged Maddie, who was still crying, causing his eyes to water too.

Once they were finally face to face, holding each other's hands, Buck was able to let out a deep breath.

"Hi," he said, laughing away his tears.

It elicited a small chuckle from Eddie, too, saying, "Hi."

"So, we're finally doing this," Buck said, giving Eddie's hands a small squeeze.

"Yeah. We are," Eddie responded, squeezing Buck's hands in return, giving him a sure and steady smile.

Chris was the ring-bearer. Buck will never forget Eddie's face when he found out. (He'd told Eddie that he would work out the ceremony details, he just had to make the decisions for the reception, and this was why). He watched as Eddie brought a hand up to his face to cover his mouth, his tears spilling out. He let go of one of Buck's hands, sitting high on his knees before letting go of the other to pull Chris into a big hug. When he pulled back, he gave Chris a big kiss on the forehead, pulling him into a hug once again.

Chris had ended up pulling Buck into the hug, too, so Buck was on one knee, arms around his son (they'd gone through the process of having Buck adopt him, legally making him one of his fathers, as per Christopher's request after Buck and Eddie first started dating), somehow finding the strength to pull away and continue on with the ceremony.

Then there was their rings. The same exact ones, just different sizes, their names engraved into the inside of the dark gray bands, respectively. Slipping the rings on each other's fingers nearly broke both of them as they let out the same shaky breaths followed by soft, quiet laughter shared between them. Buck's hands were shaking, Eddie's barely remaining stable enough to calm him down a little. It was even worse when they shared their vows.

Buck had a paper he'd written his out on, and as he held it you could hear the paper moving with each shake of his hands. He kept on rambling, getting off-topic and wanting tell every story relating to what he had written down. Eventually, though, he got through them, tears having fallen down both their cheeks at that point. Eddie's vows were much shorter, barely any words at all. He had already said everything when he proposed (with a Ring Pop, yes, but a ring nonetheless), so there wasn't much left. The part that made Buck want to cry again was when Eddie pulled two chains out of his pocket, placing one in Buck's hand and claiming it was to put their rings on when at work. That was what made it special.

The kiss was normal. Not a bad normal, no, but a good normal. It was familiar, comfortable. Eddie had one hand on Buck's waist, keeping them steady, him twirling his fingers through the hair at the nape of Buck's neck. Buck's hands were cupping Eddie's face, having been the one to pull him in. It was full of love and emotion, and it was followed by one very, very long hug until Buck's arms gave out on him. Eddie was the one to pull back, caressing Buck's face the same way he's always done to Chris and, since starting on their journey together, Buck, too. He took Buck's hand in his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze before they walked back down the aisle, this time together.

Buck had no idea where they were going for the reception. Eddie had refused to tell him. As they got closer, he realized that they were just going home. Despite all logic and reason, everyone had managed to arrive before them. They were greeted by Hen and Karen, and when they got all the way through the door Maddie pulled Buck into yet another hug while tears streamed down her face. She examined his hands, looking at the ring intently, only making her cry harder. Hen noticed, making her cry, too. Then there was Karen hugging Eddie, the two diving immediately into a conversation about god knows what, Chimney eventually joining in, while Christopher and Denny played on their Nintendo Switches together, Jee-yun leaning over their shoulders to watch.

When he was finally able to pull away from Maddie and Hen, Buck had gone to the kitchen to grab a beer (and to escape), only for Bobby and Athena to enter a moment later. Seeing them, Buck burst into tears, setting his beer down and pulling them into a giant hug. For years, since they'd met, Bobby had treated him like a son. He's always called Bobby 'Pops', and Bobby has always called Buck 'kid'. Since they'd met, Athena has been like a mother, always shaking her head at his often recklessness, but always knowing who he truly is, more than anyone. Their love and support, having been the first ones to find out (a fault of Bobby being the fire captain), meant more to Buck than they would every possibly know. He hoped they could feel it.

Eddie had walked in at that time, in search of his own beer and escape, only for that to be absolved by a sudden concern and worry for 'Why is my husband crying in his parents arms in my kitchen?' This was heightened by the frown on Buck's face when Bobby and Athena left the kitchen to go mingle with everyone else.

"Hey. What's going on? Did something happen?" Eddie asked, going to Buck's side as he stood with his back to the sink, palms gripping the edge of the countertop behind him.

"No," Buck said as Eddie set his beer down, leaning on the counter next to Buck.

"So why are you upset?"

"I'm not– I'm not upset, it's just...why do I feel like I'm going to lose them at any minute?"

"You're not."

"No, that's what you think, but you don't know that."

"You don't know you're going to lose them either."

"I mean, I don't think I will, I just have this gut feeling that everything is about to become royally fucked."

"If that happens, then I'll be right here with you. 'For better and for worse', right? We didn't say those words today for nothing, Evan."

That wasn't the end of the conversation. They went on to talk about lots of things until someone called for a toast, necessitating their presence. It was Chimney, standing on a chair, humorous as always. It was light and funny, and then Eddie's abuela had something she wanted to say, leading into her and his tía Pepa to tell as many embarrassing stories as they could. It made Eddie flustered, yes, but it also made everyone, including him, laugh and smile. It made Buck's arm around Eddie's waist pull him closer as he tried to walk away from it all, Buck's way of saying 'I want all of you, even the embarrassing stories that your family tells any time they're given the chance', and it filled Eddie's heart so much.

Bobby had to cut in to keep the storytelling from going all night long, focusing everyone's attention on the cake that he'd made that was sitting on the kitchen counter. They moved the cake to the table, Buck's hand over Eddie's as they cut the first slice out of the cake. Eddie warned him not to, already knowing what was going through his mind, but Buck simply couldn't help himself, taking the plate and smashing it into Eddie's face. He repeatedly rushed out 'I'm sorry', but it was too late. Eddie wiped some of the frosting off, looking at his then covered hand and to Buck before he began chasing him around the house just to get back at him.

They eventually stopped in the living room, everyone watching from the doorway as Eddie slipped his clean hand around Buck's waist, pulling him close as he smeared the frosting all over his face. Buck had grimaced at the whole thing, but smiled when Eddie's face softened from one of payback to one of love, followed by him giving Buck a kiss. His hand, still having frosting on it, cupped Buck's cheek, little bits of the sweet getting into his hair, while Buck had one hand on Eddie's bicep and the other keeping him pulled in by his chin and jaw. They pulled back, smiling, giving each other one last peck before going to the kitchen to wash their hands and faces. (To this day, they're both endlessly thankful for Chimney's need to record everything. They would have hated to have nothing to remember the moment except their own memories.)

That night, leaving to go to the airport so they could start their honeymoon, Eddie nearly broke at having to tell Christopher they'd be gone for a full week. He almost asked Buck if they could bring him with them. He didn't, though, and they left. They got to the airport and were nothing but smiles, giving each other quick little kisses every chance they could. They held hands the entire plane ride, even when they fell asleep, Eddie's head resting on Buck's shoulder and Buck's head resting on top of Eddie's. They got to their hotel and spent the entire first day in a love haze, just the two of them in their hotel room, nothing less and nothing more (except for, of course, the occasional room service). The rest of the week they spent exploring Buck's hometown.

It was an untraditional destination for a honeymoon, yes, to go to your spouse's hometown, but there was a reason for it. Buck, for the longest time, had been pushing for a tropical vacation, something sunny and warm and with a beach nearby. Somewhere that you would normally go. Eddie was okay with it. He didn't really care. He wanted to go wherever Buck wanted to go, because that was all he cared about– being with Buck. Then, one night, Buck had approached Eddie in their room, climbing into bed with him before saying:

"I think our honeymoon should be to my hometown."

"What?" Eddie asked, the topic sudden.

"Yeah. I mean, I haven't been there since...since I moved out; since I left. I want to go back. I need to go back. My therapist said it would be good. It would help me to actually move on."

"Are you sure that you want to go back? If you do, then that's what we'll do. I don't mind. I just want to make sure that it's something you want to do. I want you to be sure you're ready."

"I think so. Besides, if I'm not we have two options: stay in our hotel for the rest of the week, or come home early."

They visited Buck's childhood home, staying parked in the rental car. Buck didn't want to get out. He felt safer across the street in the car with Eddie. He doesn't regret it. He got the closure he needed. He got to tell Eddie stories, good and bad, that only brought them closer. It was a good decision, because some of the memories had been long forgotten by Buck, only the sight of the house bringing them back. They drove past Buck's high school, his favorite diner, the community college he got kicked out of for spending his tuition money on a motorcycle, the place he got his motorcycle, where Maddie used to work, where Buck got his first job– they drove everywhere. It was slow going, and at some times more painful than others. Buck cried, a lot.

When they got back home to L.A., Buck felt at peace with his past and with his childhood. He felt like his life was finally starting to come together. That night, he and Eddie saying goodnight to Christopher, together, for the first time, Buck realized that it already had come together. He had everything that he'd ever wanted: a family that loves him that he loves back. His life was complete. Eddie's was, too.

Their first day back home as a married couple, they had a shift. Like every morning, Buck woke up first, kissing Eddie on the cheek before getting out of bed, and just like every morning, Eddie was actually awake and smiling to himself (something that would continue for the rest of their lives, and Buck would never find out, but it was always Eddie's favorite part of the morning). Buck made breakfast while Eddie got ready, then he left to do the same while Eddie got Christopher up for the day. Even though it was the summer, he wanted to make sure Chris got up every morning and had fun outside of the house (at least on the days he and Buck were working).

Carla arrived just before Buck and Eddie left the house. She had spent the entire week at their house, and they'd paid her well, but they still felt bad that she had less than a full twenty-four hours to herself before having to come back over. They made sure to leave her a bottle of her favorite wine above the fridge, a note on the front of the freezer to go with. Then, they were off.

Buck got in his jeep, Eddie got in his truck, and, without breaking any traffic laws, they raced to the firehouse. When they got there, they were greeted by a "welcome home committee", consisting of Hen, Chim, Ravi, and Bobby, a banner hanging from the railing saying "welcome home, newlyweds". Then, the bell rang and they had to go on a call. It was nerve-wracking, almost. Some of the tamest calls they'd gone on, one of them had almost died– sometimes not even on a call. They loved their job, and neither of them, especially Buck, was willing to give that up. So they got in the fire engine and they sat across from each other, eyes locked on each other the whole time. They answered questions from their friends, but the second the engine stopped, they reached across and held hands, taking their rings on their necklaces and kissing them before tucking them into their uniforms. That's what they would do for every day to come.

The call ended up not being anything too serious, just an older woman who had fallen and was unable to get up on her own. Buck had stood back and watched as Eddie and Chim made sure she was okay before helping her up, then handing her off to Hen. She didn't have a bump, scratch, or bruise on her. She did, however, notice Buck playing with the chain, and how he kept sliding the ring back and forth. She'd said 'it's new', like it was a well-known fact amongst the world. Then, Eddie, without realizing the context, had begun to do the same thing. The old woman smiled, winking at them as Hen helped her to her couch, checking to make sure she was okay one last time before they got back in the engine and left.

At the end of the week, they decided it would be fun to have a family movie night. They were all wearing pajamas, and Eddie sat down on the left side of the couch, putting on Avengers, the same movie they always watch. Christopher came in with the a blanket, sitting in the middle of the couch, and Buck came in with the popcorn, setting the bowl in Chris's lap. They laughed a lot, and they fell asleep like that, the three of them cuddled on the couch, like a family. Because, officially, that's what they were. A family.

Every Friday that followed, unless Buck and Eddie had to work, the Buckley-Diaz family sat down in their pjs with a blanket and a bowl of popcorn to watch a movie. Sometimes they watched movies they've already seen, and others they would watch a new one that had just been released on DVD after being in the theaters. Most of the time, though, they would continue on with each of the Marvel movies, MCU and otherwise. Most of the time Christopher would be sitting in the middle, but sometimes he was on the right side leaning on Eddie, who was leaning on Buck, or he would be leaning on Buck who was leaning on Eddie. Every time, they would fall asleep there, dealing with the bowl of popcorn when they woke up.

From there, once a month they would have dinner with Maddie, Chim, Jee-yun, Bobby, May, and Athena. Chris enjoyed having a younger cousin, and he enjoyed having an aunt that was still young, and even though Eddie's has his sisters and his sisters have kids, Chris was able to see Jee and May more often, and that's what made it so special. When Eddie thought about what he'd always wanted for Christopher, he realized that, from the moment he met Buck, he never had anything to worry about. He realized that, no matter what, he was right about what he thought with knowing Buck for barely more than a year– that no one would ever fight for his– now their– son as hard as him. 'That's what I want for him.'

Their first Christmas as a married couple, and as a couple living together, Chris woke them up first thing in the morning, bright and early, before the sun had even come up yet. The following year they had to work on Christmas, but they came home to find that Chris had stayed up until they got home. Both years, all he wanted was to open their gifts and have dinner as a family. Every year after that, it was the same. There was, though, the third Christmas. Christopher was fourteen then when he finally asked a question he'd been wanting to know for...well, ever.

"Am I ever going to have a sister?" He asked as they were having their mini feast. It caught Buck and Eddie off-guard, but the conversation wasn't shut down.

"Well, we haven't really talked about it," Buck said, but Eddie already knew how his husband felt about it.

"You've always wanted a kid."

"Well, yeah, but I have Chris."

"Let me rephrase that: you've always wanted a baby," Eddie said, taking Buck's hand.

"Y– yeah, I have, but—"

"No."

"No?"

"No. No shutting down your wishes and wants just because of what you have. Buck, I've talked to Maddie; many times. Every time I mention how much you or Chris loves Jee, she mentions how you've always wanted a daughter. A baby daughter. I don't want to keep you from having that."

"What– what are you saying?" Buck said, almost pulling his hand away from Eddie's before Eddie clasped both his hands around Buck's.

"I want to give you what you want."

"Eddie, you've already done it, though. You've lived it. I'm not making you start over."

"You're right. I already have lived it. I still am living it, right now, with Chris, and with you. I already have what I've always wanted. Now all I want is for my two boys– my son and my husband– to have what they want, and if that means bringing a baby girl into this family, then that's what we're going to do."

So they did. They adopted a little girl. Aniyah. Then, two years after that, when Chris started looking at colleges, was when Buck and Eddie sat down and started talking again. They talked for a long time before deciding that they wanted Aniyah (and Chris) to have another sister. So they adopted another little girl. Riley. They were best friends. Still are. Chris loved them with his entire being. Still does. Their family only became more complete.

The most important parts, though, for both Buck and Eddie, were the same. Not just the same as each other, but the same as they were before. Before they got married, before they got engaged, before they started dating, before they even began to entertain the idea that they could ever be more than friends. The things that had been the foundation of who they are in relation to each other. Them being their utterly idiotic selves, joking around and being confused together, all the time, always, and helping each other through the harder parts of the day and through the rougher calls that they had, leaning on each other for support. The simply being who they are, only now with the added comfort and security that comes from being married and knowing the person you're in love with is in love with you too.

As the years went on, things stayed that way. Things were always that way, and always would be. Even as Chris went off to college, things were still that way. Even as Aniyah and Riley graduated and went into work, things were still that way. Even after they went to May's wedding, things were still that way. Even as they attended Athena's funeral, things were still that way. Even as they attended Bobby's funeral, they were still that way. Even as they watched each other nearly die time after time after time again, they were still that way.

Even after they went to Denny's wedding, they were still that way. Even after they went to Christopher's wedding, they were still that way. Even as they attended Chimney's funeral, they were still that way. Even after they walked Jee-Yun down the aisle in Chimney's honor, just as Maddie and Jee had asked, they were still that way. Even after they walked their own daughters down the aisle, they were still that way. Even as Eddie developed lung cancer and had to retire, Buck doing the same because he vowed to be there for Eddie on their wedding day 'in sickness and in health', things were still that way. Even as Eddie was in remission, things were still that way.

Even as they were out on a date and there was a shooting, and Eddie got shot, again, and Buck felt Eddie's heart stop beneath him, things were still that way. Even after Buck got someone to put pressure on the wound while he did CPR, things were still that way. Even as Buck had to be pulled away from Eddie's dead body, things were still that way. Even as Buck developed Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy, more commonly known as Broken Heart Syndrome, things were still that way. Even after his broken heart killed him, things were still that way. Nothing ever changed who Buck and Eddie are. Not even death. Nothing ever could, because they're Buck and Eddie, and even in death, that's who they'll be.

#buddie #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #married buddie #established buddie #married life #christopher diaz has two dads

[serendipitouswasteland]

All the Small Things

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: buddie pov: eddie diaz, third person narrative written: March 8, 2023 first published: March 9, 2023 word count: 4,249 - summary: Five times Eddie Diaz absentmindedly shows his love to Evan Buckley the same way he does to his son, Christopher, and one time Buck does the same but Eddie gets confused.

Every day, Eddie gives Chris a kiss on the forehead or caresses his cheek at some point to show his love for his son– the light of his life, his pride and joy, the reason he fights to come home every day. Every day, Eddie is thankful when Christopher reciprocates through a hug or caressing Eddie's cheek back, because that's just how the Diaz family shows their love for one another. It's normal, and it's a habit– one that's hard to break and seemingly uncontrollable when you love someone, happening absentmindedly. So when it happens the first time, Eddie only thinks about it for a moment before moving on, acting like it's nothing.

Eddie is sick. His nose is running, his eyes are puffy, his voice is hoarse and throat is sore. He can't leave the house like this, much less go to work, but Carla is out of town. Thankfully, he has someone he knows he can always rely on when things go to shit. He calls up Buck, and within fifteen minutes he's entering Eddie's house without even knocking.

"Eddie?" Buck calls, leaning against the doorframe when he finds Eddie still lying in bed in his room. "You feeling okay? You don't look too good."

"It's just a cold," Eddie responds, pulling his comforters up further because not only does he have a cold, his body is freezing.

"Have you taken any cold medicine?"

"Yes. That's not why I called you."

Buck frowns, coming to Eddie's side and placing a hand on the back of his forehead. He not feverish, which is good. Eddie watches as Buck stands up, goes to Eddie's dresser and pulls out some loungewear, throwing it in his direction.

"Get changed. I'll make breakfast and some tea."

"Can you make sure Chris is up?"

"I heard the shower running when I came in, so I'm assuming he's in there."

"Good. We had a late night last night, so neither of us got the chance."

"You know what, you can change after you shower. You shouldn't change into clean clothes when you haven't done that yet."

"I know that, Buck. I'm sick, not an idiot."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Then, Buck is gone. Eddie blinks a few times, slowly, stretching as much as he can before he smells bacon from the kitchen, and he begins to feel like a cartoon character floating towards the source of a scent. Eddie climbs out of bed, not bothering to make it back up when he knows he'll be back there momentarily anyway. He slips on his house shoes, leaving his room. On his way to the kitchen, he grabs a throw blanket from the living room to keep himself warm. When he does finally get to the kitchen, Chris is already settled in his seat putting food on his plate, and Buck is just sitting down himself.

"I don't want to get you sick," Eddie says, barely audible from just how sick he is.

"You're sick?" Chris asks, finally looking up. "Dad, you look terrible. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, buddy. It's just a cold. That does mean I won't be kissing you goodbye today though."

"That's okay," Christopher says, turning back to his food.

"So, what has Buck made for us this morning?" Eddie asks, taking a seat.

"Just some bacon, toast, and eggs. I figured since it's a school morning that I probably shouldn't do anything too fancy, but..."

"You got carried away, didn't you?"

"Just a little bit."

The three of them have breakfast together, and when they're done Buck cleans up all of the dishes while Christopher finishes getting ready in his room and Eddie lies on the couch, half fallen asleep. The thing to make him perk up is when he hears Chris near the door putting on his shoes and Buck passing by, the keys in his hand jangling. Eddie sits up quickly, making his way to the front door right as it opens.

"What's wrong?" Is the first thing out of Buck's mouth, he and Christopher giving Eddie the same worried look.

"Nothing, I just...I wanted to say 'bye' before you left," Eddie says, finishing making his way over.

Eddie places his palm on Chris's cheek, gently cradling his face before telling him he loves him. Chris does the same back before he crutches out the door. Eddie then turns to Buck, giving him a thankful look as he caresses his face in the same way he did to Chris just moments before. Buck's eyebrows pinch together at the action before they're raised, alerting Eddie to what he's done. He jerks his hand away just a centimeter or two, and Buck just smiles, leaving Eddie in the doorway by himself.

It leaves Eddie stunned until he hears the sound of Buck's jeep pulling away, and he decides he should probably shut the door. He decides on showering, changing into the clothes Buck gave him afterward, but his mind is still swimming. Had he really done that? While to most it wouldn't be such a big deal, for Eddie it is. For him, it's the Diaz love signature. It's a way he's been shown love from his abuela, from his sisters, his tía Pepa, and even his parents, and it's the way he's shown it back to them. It's what he's always done to express his love silently, often verbally expressing it at the same time, and he's just done it to Buck, his coworker and best friend. And it's not that he can't do it to a friend, because he definitely can, but something in his gut is telling him it's not, but rather something much, much more than that.

The next time it happens it's not even a cheek caress, either. It's a kiss on the forehead. In hindsight, that is what should have alerted him to his feelings for Buck, but it didn't. It only made him more confused. Bobby and Athena had decided to throw a Christmas party, and, of course, Eddie was invited. In the invitation was a request that every parent bring a gift for the kids to do a gift exchange, which Eddie thought was a nice idea, so he and Chris went out to pick a gift just before their arrival. It was during the gift exchange that the second thing happens.

"Dad?" Christopher whispers from his spot between Eddie and Buck on the couch.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I'm thirsty."

"Me too," Buck says, and Christopher smiles at him, warming Eddie's heart.

"I'll go get you both something," Eddie says.

He gets up, rounding the back of the couch and kissing the top of Christopher's head. Then, it just happens. He does the same thing to Buck. This time, Eddie doesn't even pause. He doesn't realize what he's done at all. That is, until, he gets back to his seat with a soda for Chris and a beer for Buck that he notices everyone is looking at him, every now and then glancing to Buck before looking back over again.

"Did I miss something?" Eddie asks, looking at Buck to clue him in.

"That's what I'm wondering," Athena says, leaning forward over her crossed legs, looking right at Eddie. "Since when are you two kissing each other's foreheads when you leave the room?"

"What...?" Eddie goes to ask, but looking at Buck once again, things start to click. "Oh, um...I didn't– it's not– that's not– we're not...accident."

Buck just blinks, and Eddie isn't sure what to make of how everyone is feeling. Athena shakes her head and leans back into her chair, Bobby just sits there, brows raised, Karen and Hen share what Eddie likes to call their "all-knowing people watching look", Chimney sits with his brows furrowed, and Maddie is grinning brightly, like she knows exactly what's happening. Then there's Buck. His face is seemingly expressionless, minus the rapid blinking. And Chris. Thank god for the gift exchange, Eddie thinks to himself as he watches Chris participate in the passing around of the gifts rather than paying attention to the conversation being had.

Eddie's not sure how they got to this point, or maybe he does, but now it seems like half the time Eddie is the one to pick up Chris from school, Buck is there with him. Half the days that Eddie is home in the afternoons and evenings, Buck is there, too. Half the time they're not a work, Buck is at the same place as Eddie. It's not like Eddie is complaining, either. He enjoys being with around Buck. He enjoys his presence. He enjoys their conversations and the little moments that only they know about. Today is no different. That is, until the third thing happens.

Eddie and Buck are standing leaning against Eddie's truck as they wait for Christopher to get out of school. Like every day, they're so close that their elbows are touching, but neither of them seem to notice, and if they do, they don't care. Like every day, the second that Eddie sees Chris he opens his arms to pull his son into a hug, followed by him asking about his day. Like every day, when they pull away Eddie kisses the top of his head before patting him on the shoulder as a way of telling him to get in the truck. Not like every day, he kisses Buck on the cheek before, like every day, going to the passenger seat so he can focus on talking with Christopher before they get home.

When they are home, the three of them go straight to the dining table, Chris getting out his homework and getting math help from Buck while Eddie helps him with the rest. Then, at five, Buck gets up from the table and starts on dinner. The three of them stay grouped in conversation all throughout the evening, and when he's done with his homework Chris helps Eddie set the table. Buck finishes cooking and he serves everybody's plates, their conversation only growing more interesting.

"There's a school dance coming up," Christopher says, and Buck looks at Eddie in amusement.

"Oh, a dance?" Eddie asks, excited for his son. "Are you wanting to go?"

"Can I?"

"I think so," Buck says, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Can I, Dad? Buck says it's okay," and really, how could Eddie say no?

"Of course you can, buddy. When is it?"

"Next Friday."

"That should be enough time to get a new suit, right?" Eddie asks, more to Buck because, really, Eddie is bad at math.

"I think the more important question is if that's enough time for Chris to find a date," Buck says, and Eddie's eyes widen while Chris just laughs.

"Who said anything about a date? And aren't you the one who said he's too young to be dating?"

"Ah, yes, but there is a difference between acquiring a date for a school function and going out on a date."

"They sound the same to me," Eddie says, shrugging his shoulders.

"So," Buck says, turning to Chris, "are you going with someone?"

"Not right now, but there is this girl that I like."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, focusing his attention back to his son.

"Yeah. She's super nice. I want to ask her to go with me, but I'm nervous."

"It's okay to be nervous," Buck says, taking lead on the conversation. "Just don't be so nervous that you chicken out."

"Buck is right. If you like her, then you should go up to her tomorrow and say 'Hey, I was wondering if you'd like to go with me to the dance next Friday', and see what she says. The worst that could happen is that she says no."

"What happens if she does say no?"

"Then you can either go with a group of friends, you can go by yourself, or you can stay home with us and watch whatever movie we can find on cable," Buck says, and Chris scrunches his face.

"I think I'd rather go alone," Chris says, getting up from the table, and Eddie laughs, big and loud. "Since I finished my homework can I go play video games?"

"Shower first, but when you're done you can, okay?" Eddie says, and Chris grins, immediately making his way down the hall. "Only for an hour, though!"

"Yes, Dad!" Christopher calls back, and both Buck and Eddie smile.

The two men get up from the table, working together to get the kitchen clean. Eddie does the dishes while Buck cleans the table and counters. While Eddie sweeps the floor, Buck puts away the dishes from the night before. We really need Carla back, Eddie thinks to himself. Then, he pauses his sweeping, stuck on his mind's use of the word "we". As in he and Buck, because at this point Buck is essentially Chris's second father, and that's, well...

Despite Christopher's adversity to his father tucking him into bed, claiming it's "too childish" and that he's "too old" for it, Eddie still pops his head in to make sure his computer is off and turn off the lights– and Buck is right there with him. So when Eddie gently pulls Christopher's door shut, turning around to go have a beer in the living room with Buck, he caresses his cheek as he passes by.

Buck follows Eddie out to the living, stuttering on whatever words that he's trying to get out. Eddie sits down on the couch, holding a beer out to Buck who takes it as he sits down next to him. Buck just looks...confused. Flustered, maybe, but definitely confused (a constant state, really, but it's been amplified).

"We need to talk," Buck eventually gets out, and Eddie takes a sip of his beer, raising his eyebrows at him.

"About...?"

"You. Us. This...thing."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the cheek and forehead kisses and face caressing."

"Oh," Eddie says, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "That."

"Yeah. That."

"I don't really know what you want me to say. I don't mean to. It sort of just happens, you know? Like I get in this way with you and Christopher that it just...happens."

"So you don't...like me?"

"Buck..."

"No, no, I don't mean it like– I'm not saying that I like you, or that I think you like me, but just that it felt very...romantic?"

"Romantic?" Eddie asks, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"Or, not– not romantic, but maybe more familial?"

"Buck, look around. You are family. Half the time we're not at work either you're over here or Chris and I are at your place. You help me drop Christopher off some mornings and some afternoons you come with when I'm picking him up. It's– you're practically his parent!" Eddie confesses, letting out his thoughts from earlier.

"Oh," Buck says, sitting with it for a moment. "I mean, I guess I kind of am, aren't I?"

"Yeah, you are."

"I guess I just never thought of it like that before. I mean, I know that I'm the one you call when Carla isn't available, and I guess I should have figured it out because of what you put in your will, but– hang on, does Christopher see me as a father?"

"Honestly? I don't know. What I do know is that he definitely sees you as a friend and not an authority figure."

"But would a friend become your legal guardian when his real father dies?" Buck asks, taking a sip of his beer.

"Making jokes of my death, Buckley?" Eddie asks, copying Buck's motions.

"After the number of times you have almost died on me, I think I've earned the right to a couple of jokes," Buck says, and Eddie gets it, especially when Buck says, "Being your friend is traumatizing."

"Hey, now, I'm not the only one who nearly dies every day. You're Mr. Reckless."

"I'm not reckless, I'm young and agile. There's a difference."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

The final time it happens is when things start to change. They're at work, meaning Chris isn't around for Eddie to use as his excuse of "it just happens". Eddie and Hen are sitting at the bar counter, Bobby cooking with Buck's aide, and Chim off to the side on the phone with Maddie. For lunch, Bobby gave Buck full control over making the sauce, and he's bouncing on his feet out of excitement. He scoops some of the sauce out of the pot, holding it out to Hen.

"Buck, I already told you, I'm not taste testing any more food that you make. Not after the oatmeal cookies this morning," Hen says, and both Bobby and Eddie snicker.

"Wha– okay, that was not my fault. Eddie was distracting me."

"All I did was ask if you could help me get Carla a welcome back gift."

"Yeah, distracting. Which means that you have to taste test my sauce," Buck says, coming to Eddie's side and holding the spoon up to him.

Eddie raises his brows, shaking his head once before letting Buck feed him the sauce. It's not bad at all. In fact, it tastes just like Bobby's. It makes Eddie feel proud, smiling at Buck as he pulls the spoon away, still leaning close.

"So? What do you think?"

"You did good," Eddie says, and then it happens.

He kisses Buck on the cheek, right as he's leaving to go back around to the stove. Hen and Bobby turn to each other, sharing a look before they turn back to Buck and Eddie, glancing between the two of them. Bobby opens his mouth to say something, but Chimney beats him to it.

"Did I miss something?"

"Just Eddie and Buck continuing to be Eddie and Buck," Hen says, Chim's face relaxing as he sighs.

"Yeah, that sounds right."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie asks, but he receives no answer.

"Alright," Buck says, clapping his hands together. Eddie already knows he wasn't paying attention. "Bobby and I will bring all the food over, you three go sit down."

"Yes, sir," Eddie, Hen, and Chim mock all at once, Buck just rolling his eyes.

Leaving the head of the table for Bobby, the three of them go to sit down. Hen sits to the right of Bobby's seat, the rail behind her. Chim leans over the rail, calling for Ravi and everyone else before sitting to the right of Hen. Eddie sits across from her, telling Ravi to sit in the seat next to the one next to him, claiming he was saving it for Buck.

"You two make me sick," Ravi says, and Chim bursts out laughing, Hen trying to hold hers in.

"What are we laughing about?" Buck asks as he and Bobby come over with trays and bowls and other kitchen materials.

"Absolutely nothing," Chim says, and while he's not entirely wrong, Eddie still shoots him a quick death glare.

As Buck passes, Eddie grabs him by the arm, begging him over. Buck follows, holding out the tray of breadsticks he's carrying so Eddie (and anyone else who wants one) can grab one. Eddie does so, taking a bite immediately. Buck pulls the tray away, kissing Eddie on his cheek before he continues on his way to the center of the table, where he sets down the tray of breadsticks along with his bowl of delicious red pasta sauce before sitting down in the spot saved for him.

Eddie, though, is stuck. His chewing slows, brows pinching together as he looks at Buck questioningly. It's not necessarily new, because Eddie has been doing it to Buck. So no, not new, just...different, because Buck has never done it to Eddie before. Not that he can't, either, but he simply wasn't expecting it. He did, though, and it wasn't out of reciprocity– it was because he wanted to. That is why it's hitting Eddie so hard.

"Uh, Buck—"

"Nope. You don't get to say anything. You do it all the time. Besides, we had that conversation about it, so it's just familial, right? No biggie."

"I'm sorry, since when are you two a family?" Hen asks, pointing her fork between the two of them.

"They've been that way forever," Bobby says, and everyone turns to look at him. "What? They've been best friends for years, and Buck is basically helping to raise Christopher. They work together, half the time they go home together, they have family dinners and go on trips to the beach together. Buck will pick up Chris from school, sometimes with Eddie and others without. If Buck isn't with one or both of them, it's because one of the three of them is sick."

"Well, the last time Eddie was sick– nevermind," Buck says, letting Bobby finish.

"My point is, it's not hard to put two and two together."

"Two and two together?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, what are you talking about?" Buck asks, finishing Eddie's thought for him.

"That."

"So we're good friends," Buck says, clearly avoiding Eddie's gaze. "Is it really that interesting?"

"Very," Hen says, pulling out her phone. "I've got to tell Karen about this."

"Wha—" Buck starts, but Eddie cuts him off by patting his knee.

"We're good friends?"

"Best friends," Buck assures, but there's something missing from the way he sounds.

"Ugh," Ravi exclaims, shaking his head. "You two are terrible."

"We—" Buck starts, but Bobby shaking his head catches their attention.

"Listen," Chimney then says, setting down his napkin after cleaning his face, "I'm not saying you two need to get your act together and kiss already, but..."

"Um," Eddie gets out, Buck stuttering on a string of words.

"Chim is right," Bobby says, followed by Hen saying "ditto", Ravi nodding along.

Buck and Eddie look at each other for a moment before looking away, not talking for the rest of lunch.

Hen, Chim, and Ravi leave the locker room at the same time, Eddie and Buck having been working out post-work plans the entire time rather than grabbing their things. They're still talking, only now that they're alone their conversation has shifted. Eddie looks at Buck with a somewhat longing look before turning away and, finally, opening his locker.

"We gonna talk about it?" Eddie asks, and Buck sighs.

"Do you want to talk now about it?"

"I think we should try it."

"Try what?"

"Kissing. For real. Not a cheek or forehead kiss, but a real kiss."

"Now?"

"Why not? It might finally get them off our backs."

"I don't know. I guess I always thought that—"

"I'm sorry, you've thought about it before?" Eddie asks, stepping away from his locker to look at Buck, fully and completely.

"I mean, I– uh..."

Eddie brings his hand to caress Buck's face, getting him to stop stumbling on his words and just be quiet. They look in each other's eyes, both men occasionally glancing to the other's lips. Then, almost suddenly, their lips crash together, smothering each other with their mouths. Buck pulls Eddie closer by his collar, hands then traveling to hold him by his back. Meanwhile, Eddie has one hand on Buck's chest, keeping him pulled close through his grip on his shirt, his other hand running through Buck's curls.

"Buck?" Eddie says in between kisses.

"Yes?"

"Do you think," a kiss, "maybe," another kiss, "they were right?"

"Most definitely."

Eddie smiles a bit at that, Buck doing the same as Eddie's grip on his shirt loosens and he brings his hand to cup Buck's cheek, caressing his face once again. They're both panting, foreheads leaning against one another as they try to slow down their fast beating hearts. Buck takes Eddie's hand, gently pushing him back over to his locker, the two of them grabbing out their things before leaving the locker room, where they're greeted with the shocked expressions of their friends.

"Well, that was definitely a kiss," Chim says, sighing in defeat.

"Oh, that?" Eddie asks, raising his brows and looking at Buck with a chuckle before looking at Chim again. "That was nothing."

"Yeah, I have had way longer kisses than that– and I mean kisses. Like, I'm not talking makeout sessions. I'm talking five minute kiss because it was high school and it was passing period, so actually technically it was more of a three minutes kiss, because we had a minute to get to each other, three minutes to kiss, and then a minute to get to our classes, but– I'm gonna stop talking. I have to get going. I'll see you at home?"

"Yeah– make sure Chris does his homework, alright?"

"I always do. Don't forget the ingredients for the brownies while you're at the store. Also, we'll talk tonight, right? About..." Buck waves his hands, motioning them between he and Eddie and the locker room.

"Of course we will, and I won't forget. Now go pick up my son from school," Eddie says, caressing Buck's face one more and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Buck smiles, reciprocating the cheek kiss before he jogs off to his jeep. Eddie watches fondly as he goes, turning to say goodbye to everyone, but pausing when he sees the looks on their faces. That, and the fact that Bobby had come out of his office but hadn't said a word.

"Like I said," Bobby says with the smallest smile, "It's not hard to put two and two together."

#buddie #evan buckley/eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #bobby nash #henrietta wilson #hen wilson #howard han #howie han #howie chimney han #howard chimney han #chimney han #chim han #5 + 1 things #5 + 1 fic #5+1 fic #5+1 times #5+1 things #fluff #domestic fluff #romantic fluff #tooth rotting fluff #getting together #first kiss

[serendipitouswasteland]

Wonderwall

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

Ship: Byler POV: third person Written: August 20, 2022 First Published: August 20, 2022 Word Count: 4,381 - A/N: This story is going to be set in a slightly different timeline, and I mean that literally. The current year this fic takes place is 2003, and the Party is all 19 years old, Mike and Will working at a comic book store together.

This is a little different from my usual fics, me never really having done but one actual au before, so this was a little different, but since all of the supernatural/UD stuff is still in place just moved forward about a decade or so, it's not too far off. - Summary: Mike lends his sweater to Will. When Will is home, he realizes he still has Mike's sweater and finds Mike's iPod. Out of curiosity, Will looks through Mike's music and finds a playlist with his name in the title.

Mike shimmies out of his hoodie, handing it to Will. Quickly and shakily, Will takes it from him, slipping it over his head, the October having given him the chills after he forgot a jacket of his own. The long blue material falls halfway to Will’s knees, the sleeves hanging off of his hands just a bit, but still looking tight against the slightly shorter boy. The two shared clothes often, the only real trouble being that Mike is tall and quite thin, a very lanky kid, whereas Will is of average height, but has more muscle.

“There,” Mike says, throwing his arm back around Will’s shoulder. “Better?”

“Warming up already,” Will says, his teeth still chittering a bit as he, Mike, and the rest of the Party continue throughout the corn maze.

Halloween was once Will’s favorite time of year, and he still enjoys the holiday itself, but other things about the season make his skin crawl. Being kidnapped by a creature from another dimension when he was only twelve years old, only to be possessed by another a year later wasn’t exactly something he looked forward to remembering, and he often times felt as though the holiday was now a way to celebrate that he didn’t die , even though that, now, he’s not sure it would make much of a difference.

It’s not that Will wishes he had died, because he doesn’t. He’s quite thankful to be alive, and, quite frankly, doesn’t want to know how dying there would’ve ended, but he’s not sure that the trauma he’s been carrying around with him is much better.

Mike can sense that something is off with Will, pulling the brunette close to his side (despite them already being far too close, in Will’s opinion, because what if someone sees and says something?). When Mike whispers Will’s name in that voice he’s heard a million times over every time the fall comes around or something important is going on, Will shyly looks up at Mike, a light blush falling over his cheeks as he looks at the dark brown eyes already glued on him.

“You okay?” Mike asks, and Will has the urge to bury his head in Mike’s chest, but he doesn't. 

He’s just your friend , Will reminds himself, even if he knows that Mike wouldn’t mind. The number of times Mike has pulled Will into his chest as a form of comfort was too great for him to react poorly if Will were to do it. Still, Will doesn’t– just in case.

“Mhm,” Will hums, looking away, and once again he’s pulled closer to Mike’s side.

How does he do that? It was a mystery to Will how Mike constantly managed to pull Will closer to him even if it felt like there wasn’t any more space to go. It was like parts of Will melted into Mike (which, yes, they did , but it was more of a mental game on Will’s part than anything else).

“Blue looks good on you,” Mike says, Will assumes as an attempt to try and cheer him up.

“Come on, slowpokes! You’re gonna get left behind if you don’t keep up,” Max shouts at them, Mike flipping her off and her rolling her eyes before she disappears around a corner, a hand on her wrist, El probably pulling her along as she finds the Party’s way out.

“I love that girl,” Lucas says, and Will swears he’s about to melt into a puddle of love-goo right in front of him.

“Tell that to her girlfriend,” Dustin jokes, but Will knows more than he does.

Will remembers when he and Max had first talked about things like that– not liking who you were brought up thinking you’re supposed to– and how Max had mentioned that she loves Lucas, but that she thinks she also might love El, and how Will had confided in her about his feelings for Mike. They bonded over other things, too, but Max had been able to tell something was bothering Will, and it all spilled out in one of the big booths at Scoops Ahoy the summer of 1998.

Max scoots into the large, circular booth, pulling Will to sit down with her, the rest of the Party getting the ice creams they want, Max having told Lucas what to get her, and Mike already knowing Will’s favorite. Sitting in the direct middle of the booth, Max squints at Will for a moment, smiling to herself confidently and sitting up as if she’s just won an argument.

“Max, what the—”

“Liking boys isn’t a bad thing,” Max says, her palms flat on the table, her voice soft and low, but still clear and audible to Will sitting next to her.

“W-what?” Will stutters out, trying to figure out how she knows.

“Sorry. That was…blunt. I should have led with something else. But you’re not the only one who likes someone they shouldn’t.”

“But you and Lucas—”

“No, don’t get me wrong, I love Lucas. I really, really do. Like, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him. But El…”

“El?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s stupid. I don’t even know how a person can be in love with two people at once, but– I don’t know. But you liking guys? It’s not that bad of a thing, Will. There’s a hell of a lot worse out there,” Max says referring to the events of the previous fall.

“You’re not wrong…”

“I think it’s nice,” Will says quietly, but his three childhood friends hear him, each of them looking at Will as they continue walking, rounding the same corner Max and El had just a moment ago.

“Yeah?” Lucas asks, and Will nods.

“They have someone who understands them, and that someone is each other,” Will says with a smile, and Lucas nods.

“Sort of like you and me,” Mike says, his face leaning close to Will’s and drawing back again quickly, and if it wasn’t happening to you, you might not even notice.

“Y-yeah. Like you and me.”

“What about us?” Dustin questions with a pout, and Mike starts rambling about something that Will couldn’t care less to listen to, knowing full well he’s already heard about whatever it is plenty of times now.

The one downside to having been friends with someone for your entire life is that there’s nothing new to tell when you’re all grown up. All of them being nineteen now, Will has spent 70% of his life knowing Mike and being his best friend. He doesn’t really know his friendship circle without Mike. Because of that, Will knows practically all there is to know. Sure, there’s the annoying habits that come and go, but everything else it feels like they experience together. It’s always been like that. Mike and Will, Will and Mike, side by side every second of their lives (if they were able to be).

“Took you long enough!” Max exclaims once the exit is in view, her and El clearly having been there for at least a few minutes.

“Sorry, Maxine. We were busy talking about boy stuff,” Mike says, the two of them having the most sibling-like relationship in the group (with the exception, of course, of Will and El, the two actual siblings in the Party).

“You can talk and walk at the same time, Michael. Now hurry your lazy ass up. We have to go to the haunted house next!”

Oh. Will gets nervous at just the thought of a haunted house. It’s not that he’s against them, but he doesn’t do so well with them during the only time of year that you ever really see them. Will shrugs Mike’s arm off of him, quickly hurrying to the exit, giving El a hug, the two of them already having talked the evening over hours ago, Max handing him her skateboard afterward.

“You’re leaving?” Mike asks, sticking his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“Yeah, I just– I know I got over all that stuff, but I still don’t exactly want to be reminded of any of it. I’ll skate by and give you your board back tomorrow, alright?” Will says, pointing to the road.

“Just don’t break it, Will the Wise. Have fun at home!” Max says just before El pulls her along.

“Bye Will! I’ll be home later!” El shouts as her and Max run off toward the haunted house in a bliss of laughter.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Mike asks, and Will can already tell that he’s getting worried.

“What? No. I’m fine, Mike. I’m an adult now. I’m pretty sure I can handle skating home in the dark on my own.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mike. I get that you’re worried about me, and I get it. Every year, just like clockwork, right? I get all antsy over my memories and you get all worried that I’m going to freak out or something, but that never happens.”

“But what if it does?”

“Then you’ll be the first to know. Except for maybe El, but she kind of lives with me, so…”

“Okay,” Mike says with a slight chuckle at Will’s last words. “But you promise you’ll call?”

“I promise . Scout’s honor,” Will says, putting his hand over his heart.

“You’re such a dork.”

“No less than you.”

“Be careful,” Mike says, taking only one step back.

“Yeah. I will,” Will says, him taking a few steps back now.

Why was leaving each other always so hard? It’s not like anything had ever happened that would give them– Will reason to hate leaving Mike. It made sense for Mike to worry, to want to go with, because the last time he didn’t things didn’t turn out well, but for Will? Mike had always been safe. Will shouldn’t have a reason to worry. But maybe he’s just scared about the same thing happening to Mike that happened to him.

Finally, Will takes the final plunge and turns around, making his way toward the street. There’s a moment where he swears he hears Mike murmur something more, but when he turns back to look Mike is already walking off with the rest of the Party. It’s just your head playing tricks on you, Will.

When Will gets home he goes straight to his room, not bothering to say hi to his mom and Hopper who are sitting on the couch watching something together. In his room, Will leans Max’s skateboard against his dresser and goes over to his window, closing the curtains and blinds as he’d forgotten to earlier before he’d left for the evening. Will then sits on his bed, taking off his shoes, not bothering to slip off his socks, too.

Will then goes to take off Mike’s blue hoodie he’d been given to use, silently cursing at himself for not giving it back. As he takes it off, Mike’s ipod falls out the pocket, earbuds along with it. Will leaves it sitting on his bed, putting the hoodie on the back of his desk chair and finishing changing into pajamas before grabbing the ipod and putting the earbuds in.

Mike and Will share everything. Literally. Mike’s first flip phone? Will’s, too. His first bike? Also Will’s. Will’s watch? Mike had used it plenty. And it didn’t end there. Will lies down on his back in the center of his bed, holding the ipod in front of him, his arm far out before he pulls it close to see the small screen better. Normally he’d go to songs and put on his favorite, but he’s been getting a little bored of it lately, so he instead goes to playlists. There’s only a few, but there’s a specific one that catches his eye titled ‘Will the Wise’ .

Curiosity getting the best of him, Will selects the playlist with his name and hits play. The first song on the playlist doesn’t surprise him– ‘You’ve Got a Friend in Me’ by Randy Newman. It was a song that the two had once listened to on repeat when they first watched the movie ‘Toy Story’ together when it had come out. They weren’t going to at first, but after Mike was forced to take his younger sister Holly to see it one day so his mother, Karen, could clean the house, Mike knew he had to take Will to see it.

After that, the songs slowly fade from being friendship to something else. Not that Will is complaining, because he’s not. He knows how he feels about Mike. He knows that he’s in love with his best friend. But for Mike to feel that way about him back? It was almost daunting to Will, so he instead assumes that Mike means the romantic songs as friendship songs. A platonic love, as he’s heard about from Max plenty of times, explaining that you don’t have to be attracted to someone to love them– which, of course, Will already knew, but her explaining it definitely had gotten Will thinking. Did he love Mike romantically? Was it platonic? Or is that what makes it different from Dustin and Lucas?

Of course, the love Will feels for Mike isn’t platonic, but he had to ask himself. Growing up with Max and Robin being the only people who really understood or that he could talk to about it was hard. He wished he had a guy to look up to (not that he didn’t appreciate Max and Robin, because he did, and still does, but it’s different). So, naturally, he had to figure things out himself, and that meant a lot of self-doubt and questioning, but by the time high school graduation rolled around, Will was 100% certain he was gay and in love with Mike, and he was right, because those feelings haven’t left, and he is definitely gay.

As Will continues listening to the music, one song specifically causes him to go from calm and half asleep humming along to furrowing his brows and checking to make sure he’s still on the playlist he’d chosen, and Will knows this one can’t be mistaken for a platonic love. ‘Wonderwall’ . Of course it could be interpreted by someone as platonic, depending on the context, but Will remembers a conversation the Party had a few weeks ago that means this isn’t platonic.

“Okay, my turn,” Max says, sitting back down with a coke for herself and one for Lucas. “If you were trying to serenade someone that you like, what song would you choose?”

“Do you mean, like, love-like?” El asks for confirmation.

“Yeah. Love-like,” Max says as she opens her soda.

“Hm…” El hums in thought.

“Isn’t She Lovely, Stevie Wonder,” Lucas says, and Max and Mike both burst out into laughter, everyone else chuckling a little too. “What?”

“Lucas, that song is about a baby.”

“Oh,” Lucas says, taking a sip of his soda. “Then Never Gonna Give You Up? I don’t know.”

“Okay, moving on from this doofus,” Max says. “Who wants to go next?”

“I just called to say I love you,” Dustin says next. “Someone has to do Stevie Wonder some justice.”

“I think I’d choose You’re Still the One by Shania Twain,” El says confidently after she’s finished her thought process.

“That’s a pretty good one,” Mike says, Max nodding along.

“She has a super pretty voice, even if her music isn’t typically my style.”

“What is your style, Mayfield?” Mike asks, like he’s trying to get on her nerves.

“Better than yours, Wheeler. I’d probably sing Is This Love by Whitesnake. Still not my typical genre, but I know the words. That’s what counts, right?”

“What about you, Will?” Mike asks, his eyes big.

Will already knows what song he’s going to say, but he doesn’t want to go before Mike. So instead…

“Me? What about you?”

“If you say yours, I’ll say mine after.”

Will gives Mike a challenging look before accepting the answer.

“Picture. Kid Rock.”

“I’d sing Wonderwall,” Mike says immediately after, not missing a bit.

“Who’d you sing it to?” Max asks, the two always being nosy.

“I, uh…that’s a secret that I’ll be keeping to myself for as long as I shall know any of you.”

“Good luck getting rid of us,” Lucas says with a grin, and everyone else smiles, too.

Will decides to keep the song on loop as he works through his thoughts, thinking about why Mike would put it on his playlist with Will’s name. Will knows the obvious answer, but he doesn’t want it to be real. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to deal with the “I’ve been in love with you forever and it’s kind of obvious and you’re in love with me too but never said anything” ordeal. But then again, getting Will to talk about his love life hasn’t always been the easiest thing ever.

When Will gets to work the next day, he slowly takes off his coat and places it on the coat rack in the break room before coming back out to the register. Normally he would lean over from the customer side as Mike was on the cashier side, and the two would talk and wait for some kid to ask one of them for help or someone needed to cash out. Today was different.

Instead of going to where he normally does, Will joins Mike behind the counter, setting Mike’s ipod on the counter in front of him. As he does so, he has one hand placed on the bit of the counter to his right, standing behind Mike and leaning forward to place the ipod on the counter, entering Mike’s personal space bubble. Their hands brush as Will pulls his back and Mike goes to pick up the ipod, both of them freezing just a bit before continuing their movements.

“It was in your hoodie, which is in the breakroom, by the way…in case you were wondering,” Will says, pulling back all the way and leaning against the counter opposite of Mike.

“Thanks. Did you get El her skateboard?”

“First thing,” Will says with a false smile, but Mike doesn’t register it, smiling back with a slight chuckle.

“How was listening to The Cure all night long and draining my battery?” Mike asks, a knowing grin spread across his face.

“I actually decided to change it up just a bit,” Will says. Here goes.

“Really? What did you listen to instead? Oasis?”

“No,” Will says, trying not to smile at the fact that Mike remembers all those little details. “I was listening to your ‘Will the Wise’ playlist.”

Will glances up at Mike for a second, trying to grasp the mood, but he’s lost when Mike just stares back at him with a blank, almost pale expression. Will looks down, picking at his fingers. Awkward. Will looks up again, clearing his throat and turning around, organizing random things that he sees. He continuously glances over at Mike, and Mike is still just staring, only now at his ipod as it lays in his hand.

“Um…” Mike coughs after a moment, he too needed to clear his throat a bit. “And uh…what did you– what did you think?”

“It was definitely…interesting. ‘Wonderwall’ is on there.”

“Yeah…” Mike says, putting his ipod in his pocket and scratching his head just a bit. “That song would be…on there.”

Without even looking, Will can feel as Mike leaves from behind the register. Not a moment later he’s standing in front of Will, their eyes meeting, endless amounts of tension between them growing. Will gulps, his lips falling apart just a bit afterwards. So I was right, Will thinks to himself, his mouth watering as he looks up at Mike. Normally Mike would make himself on the same eye level as Will, but he wasn’t doing that now. It made Will curious, wondering why now?

“What other songs on there did you hear?” Mike asks carefully

“All of them before that song,” Will says in response, swallowing again.

“So you didn’t hear that one. Okay…” Mike says to himself, a sigh of relief escaping, but Will still hears the words.

“Hear what?”

“Just, uhm…a song. One that you might get weirded out about if you find out what it is, so, I’m gonna just…go…organize…”

Mike begins to walk away, but Will grabs the sleeve of his shirt before he can get far enough, pulling him back over to the counter. This is so awkward . Will and Mike stare at each other once again, both of them not able to keep their eyes still, trying to find a way to squash the tension, but failing miserably.

“What song?” Will asks sternly, making it clear that it’s important to him that he knows.

“Picture,” Mike mumbles back.

“By Kid Rock?” Will inquires, not sure if he’s believing Mike or not.

“The one and only.”

A nervous laugh follows the words Mike says, and Will lets go of Mike’s sleeve, now deep in thought. So, both of their serenade songs were on there. That was definitely something. Will contemplates how he’s supposed to continue the conversation. Does he brush it off like it’s no big deal? Or does he confront Mike about it further? What happens if he’s wrong? What happens if he’s right ?

“Do you remember the conversation from a couple weeks ago?” Will asks, and if he’s right then Mike is going to know exactly what he’s talking about, but….

“Which one?” Mike asks, starting to walk away again, but since the store is empty Will doesn’t mind talking from across the way.

“About music. Our love-like serenade songs,” Will says, seeing if he can get Mike to come out and say it on his own.

“Yeah…”

“Do you remember the songs we said?”

Will can hear Mike sigh, but he can’t see him as he’s hiding in one of the aisles pretending to organize their already in-place comics. Even still, Will is able to catch glimpses of the top of Mike’s now shoulder-length black curls. It takes everything in Will not to start fawning as he stares from across the room, bits of daydreams from the past trying to sneak their way into his mind, but he pushes them back and grabs a pen to tap on the counter and keep him in the moment.

“Yeah. I remember,” Mike says, and then he’s at the front of an aisle looking at Will again.

“So…?”

“Surprise?” Mike cringes, giving up at the end of the word and sighing, running a hand through his hair and stepping up to the counter again. “I didn’t exactly want for you to find out this way, you know.”

“How did you want me to find out?”

“Romantically? I don’t know.”

“I think I would’ve liked that, too.”

“Really?” Mike asks, his eyebrows raising at Will’s words.

“But I do enjoy knowing that you have a playlist full of love songs on it that’s dedicated to me,” Will teases, and Mike laughs a little.

“Not just love songs. Friend songs too.”

“I know,” Will says, taking Mike’s hand and drawing circles in his palm, his own holding his chin.

“You look really pretty like that, you know,” Mike says, brushing a few hairs out of Will’s face.

The bowl cut Will once had is long gone, the last he’d seen of it being his sophomore year. Now, Will’s hair has grown wavier, curling just a bit around his ears, almost a shag style. Mike tucks a few hairs behind Will’s ear, smiling with a small laugh, one of endearment and admirement. Will shys away just a bit at Mike’s words and actions, almost like he’s closing in on himself.

“You know…” Will says, glancing up at Mike quickly before looking away again. This is way harder than it looks. “...I also have…a secret, I guess.”

“Hm?” Mike asks, staring at Will, making everything that much harder.

“I, uh…I have had…feelings…for you for,” Will thinks about it for a second, taking a deep breath and sighing as he continues, “ever, and I just…you make me feel so—”

“I know,” Mike says, the two of them chuckling together just a bit. “I know exactly what you’re talking about. You used to drive me mad, you know? The way that you’re always just so… you ”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. But you have had this hold on me for so long, Will, and…God, you’re just so…”

“So…?”

“You.”

“But what does that mean?” Will asks, trying to get something more out of Mike.

“I don’t know!” Mike exasperates as he becomes frustrated with himself. “You’re just so kind and pretty and funny and you always say and do the right things and everybody loves you, and I— I just.—”

“Ah. You’re jealous. Worried that someone is going to ask me out before you have the chance.”

“...has someone?”

“No,” Will says, a loud snort coming out with that.

“Hey, it’s a genuine question.”

“Mike, we live in smalltown America. The only other two gay people I’ve met are– I actually can’t tell you that.”

“Don’t worry, Will. I don’t even know if I’m…I mean, I know I’m not just into girls, because I’m kind of in love with you and everything, but…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Mike. But there is one more thing I want to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“Did you just say that you’re in love with me?”

“Ugh,” Mike groans in embarrassment, burying his head in his arms as he leans on the counter.

The bell to the shop rings as a few kids come in, each of them going in a different direction to find what they’re looking for. Will says their mandatory welcome, poking Mike in the side as a way to ask if they can switch sides. Mike obliges, the two switching spots and Will smiling at Mike as he tries not to laugh. The kids come up to the register, Will tapping on the counter and giving Mike a wink before going off to find work elsewhere in the store. Where the hell do we go from here?

#byler #will byers/mike wheeler #mike wheeler/will byers #will byers #mike wheeler #max mayfield #friends to lovers #love confessions #awkward

[serendipitouswasteland]

Sweater Weather

ship: buddie pov: third person written: April 10 - 12, 2023 first published: April 12, 2023 word count: 2,569 - summary: Buck wears a sweater almost too often. Eddie notices. - A/N: Pretty much, I have become obsessed with the sweater Buck is wearing at the end of 6x13 and have decided that it's his favorite sweater and he washes it as often as he can so he can wear it as often as he can because it's a comfort for him, because I have a sweater that I do that with so therefore...you get it. Enjoy. <3

Buck has a list. A checklist. After getting struck by lightning– after his coma dream– he felt like he needed to make sure he was still there– still alive. So, every morning when he wakes up the first thing he does is grab his phone and text Bobby. He doesn’t leave his messages until he receives a response. Then, if he has work, he waits until he gets there to ask Eddie and Chim about Christopher, Maddie, and Jee-Yun, respectively. On his off days, however, Buck’s mind scrambles for a bit. Texting Bobby every morning is fine. He texts him all the time anyways just to update him on his life, so him now asking for Bobby to do the same wasn’t too much different. Calling Maddie and Chimney and Eddie, though, is hard to do without someone becoming suspicious. This morning, Buck is lucky.

As Buck blinks open his eyes and stretches in his bed, a small smile appears on his face knowing that some of his checklist he doesn’t have to do. He crawls out of bed, sliding his feet into a pair of slippers as he yawns and stretches some more. He gets up from his bed, grabbing his phone and sending a text to Bobby as he trudges down the stairs. Buck puts his phone into the pocker of his sweats once he reaches the bottom step, looking over to his kitchen where Christopher is sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal already half eaten. Buck smiles, taking a seat next to him and making his own bowl.

“Goodmorning,” Buck says, his voice filled with slip.

“Goodmorning,” Chris says back, taking a bite of his food.

“How long have you been up?”

“Not very long.”

“That’s good,” Buck hums, nodding as he takes his first bite of his own cereal.

“Buck,” Christopher prods, and Buck hums while turning to face him, “isn’t that the same sweater you wore yesterday?”

“Uh…” Buck looks down at his chest, and, yes, it is the same sweater, but—

“How come you didn’t have to change but I did?” Chris asks, and Buck lets out a short laugh.

“Well, buddy, I did change. I changed my pants.”

“But you didn’t change your sweater.

“Yes, I didn’t change my sweater,” Buck says, sighing as he takes another bite. “You are right about that. Now, your dad will be here soon to pick you and your cookies up, so why don’t you go ahead and get ready, alright?”

“Yes, Buck,” Chris sighs, leaving the table and going to where his second bag is in the living room before going to the bathroom with his clothes after.

Buck gets up from the table shortly after, cleaning up both of their bowls then starting the coffee maker. There’s a knock at his door right as he gets it going, so he quickly shouts that he’ll be right there before finishing up. Buck skids over to the door, opening it up instantly to find Eddie standing on the other side, and Buck lets out a breathless smile, and—

(Look, it’s not like Eddie was keeping track. Well, he was, but it was easier to pretend that he wasn’t. So, no, Eddie wasn’t keeping track. He’s not. He just, maybe, kind of, sort of, is. It’s Buck’s fault. Or, if you were to ask Eddie, those would likely be the words out of his mouth and, well, he’s not wrong, but it also wasn’t Eddie’s job to notice…or is it? Buck is the one who came over to Eddie’s house when he wanted to escape his own loft. Buck is the one who went to Eddie as a place of comfort where he knew he would be looked after. So, maybe it is Eddie’s job—)

Eddie is staring at Buck. It’s been seventeen hours since he’d dropped Christopher off with him, and now Buck is wearing the same sweater as when he’d dropped Chris off the evening before. Eddie tilts his head at Buck as the door is opened for him further, stepping inside. He glances back at Buck who has his brows furrowed as his hands fall to rest on his hips. Eddie looks away, letting out a sigh as he steps towards the kitchen, hearing a door open a moment later and turning around to find Christopher dressed and ready coming out of the bathroom.

“Dad!” Christopher shouts, giving his dad a hug.

Buck shuts the door, going to the living room and grabbing both of Christopher’s bags, handing his school bag to Eddie before going to the bathroom. He picks up Chris’s pajamas and stuffs them in the bag before going back to the kitchen, handing that to Eddie, too. Buck then grabs the container of cookies sitting on his kitchen counter, handing them to Chris.

“Alright. Are you ready to go?” Eddie asks, Buck standing against the fridge.

“Ready!” Chris says, giving Buck a hug. “Will you come over later?”

“Of course, bud. I’ll see you later,” Buck says as Chris and Eddie begin to make their way toward the door.

“I love you, Buck! I’ll see you soon!” Chris shouts from the doorway, waving.

“Love you too, kid!” Buck calls after him and returns his wave, giving a big smile.

Buck glances at Eddie who’s staring right back at him, the same grin on his face that Buck has. Eddie gives Buck a nod, and then the door to Buck’s loft shuts and he’s left standing alone in his kitchen. The coffee maker goes off, so he goes and grabs a mug out of the cabinet before filling it. In truth, he’s exhausted. He’s always exhausted now. He’s been sleeping more on shift, but he’s pushing through. Eddie checks on him sometimes, but for the most part he leaves him alone unless necessary. Bobby does the same. If anyone is hovering, it’s Hen and Chim– something Buck will have to call Maddie about later.

After finishing his coffee, Buck goes upstairs to change before deciding to shower. He grabs a pair of jeans and goes to his bathroom, thoroughly ridding himself of any germs garnered from the day before. He spends a considerable amount of time on his hair, lately having taken a liking to his natural curl pattern and wanting to take care of it properly. Once finished, he slips into the jeans then pulls on his sweater, only he doesn’t think anything of it. It’s his sweater. His favorite sweater. A new sweater, sure, but still his favorite.

Buck moseys around his loft for a while, cleaning up random things that he finds. For the first time all week, he makes his bed, smiling at the neatly made comforter and sheets. Then he bounds downstairs, falling onto his couch as he turns on the TV to watch the Dodgers versus Giants game. After a while, though, his eyes start to flutter, and he yawns. He turns the TV down low, hoping that will allow him to fall asleep, but then his body focuses on the feeling of the couch beneath him instead of the game and it’s far from comfortable. Buck groans, rolling off the couch and dragging himself upstairs, falling flat onto his bed. He’s out within seconds.

It’s not until several hours later that Buck wakes up, his loft having become dim with the only light being emitted from his TV downstairs. Buck rubs his eyes, climbing out of bed and going downstairs, sighing once he’s realized he missed the rest of the game. He picks up his phone off the coffee table to check the score when he finds a message and two missed calls from Eddie, along with one voicemail. Buck furrows his brows, the voicemail being the first thing he checks.

“Hey, so I just got Chris from school and we’re on our way home. I figured I’d let you know so you could start making your way over, but…anyway, I’ll see you in a bit. Bye.”

It’s short, sweet, and to the point and– and it fills Buck’s heart. He smiles, pulling the phone away from his ear when a sudden rush of guilt hits him. It’s dark out, which means that he’s late and Chris is likely in bed already. Cursing at himself, Buck quickly slips on a pair of shoes, rushing out of his apartment. He gets in the car and dials Eddie’s phone immediately, but he doesn’t receive an answer. Halfway through his drive over, his phone starts ringing, and he tries grabbing it to answer but it falls to the floor. Buck hits his fist on the wheel, tapping nervously the rest of his way over.

The second Buck gets to Eddie’s house he doesn’t waste a second in getting out of his Jeep and jogging to the front door. He twists the knob and the door opens with ease, and Buck lets out a deep sigh. Eddie pops his head out from the hall, smiling when he sees who it is.

“Hey,” Eddie says, grinning and nodding to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh, no,” Buck says, shaking his head and sitting on the couch. “I take it you just made sure Chris is in bed?”

“Yup,” Eddie says, falling to sit next to Buck. “Sorry I missed your call. I tried calling you back, but you didn’t answer.”

“I was in the car. My phone fell, and I figured the risk of an accident wasn’t worth it.”

“That’s fair,” Eddie says, grabbing a beer off the coffee table and taking a swig. “Do you want one?”

“No, I’m good. I’m sorry for not coming over sooner.”

“It’s fine. After the second call, I figured you were asleep. I take it I was right?”

“I was watching the Dodgers game.”

“You turned your phone off for baseball?”

“What? No, I– I was watching the Dodgers game and I started falling asleep. I went upstairs, fell on my bed, and it was lights out instantly.”

“So I was right.”

“How’d you guess that in the first place?” Buck asks with a tilt of his head.

“You’re still wearing the same sweater as before,” Eddie says, pointing at Buck, and Buck, of course, looks down, sighing when he finds Eddie is right.

“Right,” Buck says, holding his hand out and a second later Eddie’s beer is in his hand.

“So, what’s going on?” Eddie asks, eyes never leaving Buck. He has a soft look on his face, and if this wasn’t such a serious conversation Buck just might smile in return.

“Nothing,” Buck says with a shrug, and Eddie’s eyes narrow on him. “The sweater is comforting for me.”

“Can you explain that?” Eddie asks, and it’s not mean or cruel, but effortlessly kind. It’s easy to see where Chris gets it from.

“Uh, well, it feels– it’s like a hug. Like one big, giant hug, constantly, and if I need a tighter hug I can just tug on it and I’ll feel better. It’s nice. It makes me feel safe.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums, eyes finally trailing away from Buck and to his TV instead.

“What?” Buck asks, leaning over just a bit, and he can see a smile pull at the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

“Just thinking,” Eddie responds, smile growing more.

“About?” Buck asks, and now the front of Buck’s shoulder is pressing into the side of Eddie’s, the two impossibly close.

“How to make you feel safe no matter what you’re wearing,” Eddie admits as he finally looks at Buck again, and Buck can tell that it’s honest and true.

“Just being here helps,” Buck says, giving Eddie the sweetest smile he can muster.

“You know,” Eddie says, pulling at Buck’s sweater, “it doesn’t look bad on you. In fact, I think you should wear sweaters more often.”

“You think so?” Buck asks, and oh, are their faces close.

“Dad?” They hear from the hall, slowly breaking apart.

“Yeah, bud?” Eddie asks, getting up from the couch.

“You forgot my glass of water,” Chris says, and Buck smiles at the comfort it brings him.

“Want me to get it?” Buck asks, and Eddie turns to look at him, about to protest when Chris lights up with joy.

“Buck!”

“Buck—” Eddie cuts himself off, running a hand over his face.

“Sorry,” Buck says, giving Christopher a hug. “I’m getting you your water and then it’s off to bed, alright? Dad and I were having a very important conversation.”

“Yes, sir!” Chris says with a big grin, and Buck smiles and laughs, going right to the kitchen. He grabs a cup with a straw and a lid and fills it up with ice water, bringing it back to Chris in under a minute.

“There. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, but I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

“Goodnight, Buck,” Chris yawns, giving Buck another hug before going back down the hall.

“Goodnight, Christopher,” Buck whispers once he’s already halfway down the hall, lingering in the doorway a moment before falling back onto the couch, his head falling into Eddie’s lap.

Both of Eddie’s hands immediately come to comb through Buck’s hair, detangling any mess that there is. Yeah, Buck thinks, I feel safe here. It’s not a question at all, but a mere fact. Being at Eddie’s house, on Eddie’s couch, in Eddie’s arms– all of it feels safe. He feels like nothing can hurt him as long as he’s confined within the walls of Eddie’s home, and that’s something that he could really use as of late.

“So,” Eddie starts, one of his hands trailing away from Buck’s hair, resting on his chest instead, “you’re planning on staying the night?”

“If that’s alright,” Buck responds, his own hand coming to hold Eddie’s in its place.

That was new. Since getting struck by lightning– since dying– Eddie has constantly reached out for Buck, keeping him close, and when they’re alone placing his hand on his heart just to make sure that it’s still there and still beating. It’s when Eddie’s hand trails away, though, that things are weird, because it’s never the same. Tonight is no different, Eddie looking at Buck as he moves his hand away from Buck’s chest and rather to caress his cheek.

“You’re still here,” Eddie whispers, his voice barely audible.

“I’m still here,” Buck assures, hand still wrapped around Eddie’s. “We’re still here.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, properly interlocking his and Buck’s hands, “we are.”

“You should get to bed,” Buck says, sitting up, but Eddie only pulls him closer, Buck’s back falling flush against Eddie’s chest.

“So should you,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Buck’s middle.

“Eddie…” Buck sighs, turning his head away, as if that would change their current positions.

“You said that just being here is a comfort,” Eddie whispers into Buck’s ear, clocking the reaction Buck has, “so why not see if I can comfort you more?”

“How?” Buck asks, and he already knows the answer, but– god, Eddie doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Just let me hold you. You were tense until my fingers landed in your hair before, so I have to assume that means that me touching you helps, right? So let me hold you,” Eddie pleas, and Buck melts against him immediately, rolling around in his place to hug Eddie’s torso.

“Thank you,” Buck whispers, and Eddie doesn’t give a verbal response, simply holding Buck tighter. I love you so much.

#buddie #evan buckley/eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #edmundo eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #domestic buddie #buckley diaz family #christopher diaz #pre relationship #ficlet #9 1 1 fanfiction #9 1 1 on fox #9 1 1 #9 1 1 fic #9 1 1 buddie #9 1 1 show #sweater

[serendipitouswasteland]

Post-Apocalyptic Boyfriends

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: byler pov: third person written: August 5, 2022 first published: August 6, 2022 word count: 3,840 - summary: Basically, a short oneshot with a minor conflict about post-apocalyptic domestic Byler.

Will quickly lights a match, throwing it inside the small, rundown, old wood building. He quickly runs back, watching as it goes up in flames. An arm wraps around his shoulder, followed by a kiss placed on the top of his head. Will smiles and turns his head, his face flushing, not wanting for Mike to see. Mike chuckles, placing another kiss on the top of Will's head and grabbing their supplies, throwing them in the back of the truck they've been using. He then goes back over to Will, spinning him so they're facing each other as he leans against the passenger door. Mike's hands rest on Will's hips, and he leans down to press a kiss to Will's lips. Will hesitantly reciprocates, gently placing his hands on Mike's shoulders, all of this still being so new and surreal to him.

"Are you alright?" Mike asks, pulling back and moving some of Will's hair out of his face (they didn't have the luxury of getting proper haircuts, so Will's hair was longer than normal, his bowl cut something of the past).

"Yeah, just..." Will doesn't finish his sentence, not wanting to worry Mike.

"Hey, talk to me. Is it the demodogs? The fact we still haven't found One?...Us?"

"It's so stupid, Mike," Will says, his head falling against Mike's chest.

"It's not stupid. Sometimes I still can't believe it either," Mike says, stroking Will's hair.

"Yeah, but you've been in a relationship before. I haven't. You know what you're doing, and I— I'm just here."

"Will, you are the best boyfriend that a guy could ask for. Stop doubting yourself. I haven't spent my life loving you just for you to second guess yourself."

Mike is cupping Will's cheeks now, Will looking up at him with a soft gaze, his eyes twinkling under the starlight. Mike smiles softly, stroking Will's cheek, enjoying the silent moment between them. Will's mouth is slightly agape, in wonder of just how much Mike feels for him (despite having heard multiple variations of his words more than ten times in the week already). He pushes off his toes, leaning up and planting a kiss on Mike's lips, one of the few he's been the one to initiate.

The kiss is sweet and soft and warm, something that feels oh-so-natural to the both of them. Will moves his hands to be placed against the back of Mike's neck, helping him to reach, their height difference, although small, still existing. Mike smiles at the action, moving one of his hands to be on Will's back, pulling them closer together. He's about to deepen the kiss when a voice comes through on Mike's walkie talkie.

"You boys on your way back yet?"

The voice crackles through, but it's clear enough for them to make out Hopper being the one on the other end. Mike lightly moves Will to the side by his hips, turning around and leaning through the rolled down window of the truck, grabbing the walkie talkie, Will doing his best not to laugh.

"We just got in the truck after finishing up the last hotspot. Over."

"Well hurry it up. We might have something," Mike's face goes wide, excitement rushing through him.

"You got it. Over and out!"

Mike hurriedly throws his Supercom back in the truck, hopping down and spinning Will around in a hug. Will pulls back, looking at Mike worriedly. Mike sighs, giving Will a soft smile and kissing him atop his head once more before going around and hopping in the driver seat, Will getting in the passenger. The second Mike is in the car, he interlocks his hands with Will's.

"I don't know why you're getting your hopes up," Will says, resting his elbow on the armrest, his head in his palm, looking out the open window.

Mike doesn't say anything, simply pulling their locked hands to his mouth and kissing Will's knuckles before letting them down again. The drive back to Mike's house is quiet, neither one saying a word to each other, the only sound from either of them being an occasional hum coming from Mike, or perhaps a whistle here and there, but no actually sentences are said. They get to Mike's house, quickly but reluctantly letting go of each other's hand and hopping out of the truck, going straight through the outside basement door. Will is in after Mike, shutting the door behind him and leaning against the wall, watching as Mike goes to talk to Hopper. Lucas is the first to notice, walking up to him and asking what's wrong.

"Nothing, just Mike being hopeful."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, it's just frustrating because nothing ever amounts to anything and I'm tired of seeing him get excited and then him getting crushed every single time."

"Well he's not going to stop getting his hopes up."

"And you? Still waiting on new test results?"

"Yeah. I don't know when we'll get them because of how overrun the hospital is right now, but..."

"Hey, at least your hope is reasonable."

"You don't think we'll find him? Vecna, I mean."

"Honestly? I think I could find him, or that El could find him, but I almost don't want to."

"Why not?"

"Because what happens when we do? We don't have a plan, we don't know how strong he is right now, we don't know anything except that he uses trauma, which I am just a buffet table when it comes to that so, no, I don't want to find him. At all."

Will suddenly feels a pair of eyes on him, looking up to see Mike looking his way, concern lacing each of his features. It's as if Mike could tell something was wrong or that Will was upset. Will does his best to smile, only making Mike's concern grow. He holds up a hand to Hopper, saying something and then making his way over, leaning down to whisper in Will's ear.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

"We'll talk about it later, okay?"

"Does it have to do with One?"

"Mike—"

"No, Will, if it has to do with One then we can talk about it right now."

"It's fine. Go finish talking with Hopper."

Mike hesitates for a moment, his expression hard to read, before he finally responds.

"We're talking about this after."

"Okay."

With a sigh, Mike goes back over to where Hopper is, his eyes flicking to Will every few minutes to check on him. Eventually, Will gets tired of it, going upstairs with a roll of his eyes. He finds Karen cleaning in the kitchen and Ted asleep in his armchair, and he assumes that Holly is asleep in her bed. Will enters the kitchen, grabbing a glass out of the cabinet and turning on the sink, letting out a frustrated sigh when he turns on the faucet and nothing comes out, being reminded of the broken pipes.

"There's bottles in the cooler, hun," Karen says sweetly as she puts a plate into the dishwasher to dry.

"Thanks," Will says, putting the glass back and opening up the cooler in the dining room.

Not a moment later, Mike is bending down next to him grabbing out his own, a smile on his face as he nods upstairs. Will raises a brow, following Mike up to his bedroom. Will is the first to enter, Mike shutting the door behind them quietly. He sets his water bottle on his desk, taking Will's from him and doing the same as he wraps his arms around Will's middle, hugging him from behind.

"So?" Will questions, leaning his head back against Mike's shoulder.

"We've got something," Mike says, and Will can hear the smile he has plastered on his face.

Will can feel his own heartbeat pick up, not sure if he should be happy or not. He swallows hard, lifting his head up just a bit, resting his arms overtop Mike's as he braces himself for whatever it is that Mike is about to say.

"He's not in the Upside Down," Mike whispers into Will's ear, leaving a kiss on his cheek and going and sitting down on his bed. "And I know that it's a mirror of Hawkins, so it doesn't matter anyways, but at least we know that he's here and that we don't have to go...there."

Will sits down beside Mike, letting his head fall on his shoulder. Mike instinctively brings his arm up to stroke Will's hair, their heads resting together. Will sighs deeply, melting into Mike's touch. His breathing is staggered, Mike's own being deep and slow, helping to calm Will down.

"Do you want me to sing?" Mike asks in a soft, gentle tone.

"Yeah," Will whispers, blinking back tears.

Mike takes a deep breath, kissing the top of Will's head before he begins to sing.

"Darling, you got to let me know. Should I stay or should I go? If you say that you are mine, I'll be here 'til the end of time. So you got to let me know. Should I stay or should I go?"

"Sing the next part? It's my favorite," Will asks, Mike's smile growing a little at that.

"It's always tease, tease, tease. You're happy when I'm on my knees. One day it's fine and next it's black, so if you want me off your back, well come on and let me know. Should I stay or should I go?"

"Mike?"

"Hm?"

"I...I love you," Will says shakily.

They've said the words to each other hundreds of times by now, Mike usually the one to say them first. Still, it comes out like he's confessing it the first time. He still can't believe that Mike loves him back.

"What's wrong? Talk to me," Mike says, moving to look at Will's face. "You've been on edge all day, you've been quiet, and you even almost snapped at me earlier. Let me inside your head...please?"

Will sighs, a single tear falling from his eye that he wipes away quickly. He was not about to cry in front of Mike. He'd only done so a handful of times, he wasn't going to let there be any more. Will looks Mike in the eyes quickly before looking away, the eye contact making talking to him so much more difficult.

"I'm scared. It's silly. I should be used to it by now. But it's not me. It's him. He is the fear. He makes me feel scared, whether I actually am or not. I— I don't know if I want to find him, because what if...what if that just makes it worse? What if when we find him he makes things worse for me? What if he makes me feel like this for a reason? And why me? What— what did I do to make him choose me?"

"You didn't do anything, Will, okay? He's a bad person. That's it. That has nothing to do with you. You are perfect just the way you are. And you being scared? That's okay, too. But I won't let anything happen to you. Not if I can help it."

"What are you gonna do? Hit him with a bat? He's not Billy," Will says with a small laugh, a big, cheesy grin appearing on Mike's face.

"Whatever works," Mike says, and though he's smiling and laughing, his tone is serious. He would do anything to protect Will, and deep down, Will knows that.

"I love you," Will says a little more confidently this time, throwing himself into Mike's arms, knocking him over.

Mike has his back to his mattress, Will's arms wrapped around his torso tightly with his head resting on his chest. Mike's cheeks are bright right, and he's just staring at Will, something mimicking shock on his face. Will's smiling brightly, not looking up at Mike, worried that maybe Mike has been playing him all along, wanting to stay in his small, dwindling bubble of maybe Mike is serious about loving me back.

"I love you too," Mike chokes out, letting his hand fall to Will's hair, stroking it gently, his other arm wrapping around Will's shoulder.

The two fall asleep like that, holding each other close, embarrassed at just how gone they are for the other. Will tosses and turns all night (not that that was unusual), waking up every few hours and Mike waking up, too, like if Will is awake then so is he. Every time, Mike pulls Will back into bed with him, holding him gently with his chest flush to Will's back, syncing their breathing and calming Will down, soothing him back to sleep.

Mike is the first one up the following morning, slowly detangling himself from Will and wrapping his blanket around him tightly so he still feels safe, adding a pillow behind him to aid in that. He changes his clothing quickly, fortunate enough to still have most of his clothing from before he left for Lenora (and though he's having to share with Will, there's plenty to spare). Mike then goes downstairs, grabbing some random small amount of food for breakfast, saving most of it for Will and going back upstairs.

For an hour or so, Mike sits at his desk writing and going through a box of papers he's had for a few years now. He adds another one to it, slipping the box into his desk drawer quietly before going over to his bed and rubbing Will's back gently, putting his pillow back against the wall and loosening the blanket just a bit. Slowly, Will begins to stretch and yawn, turning around in his space to hug Mike, his eyes fluttering open when he realizes Mike isn't laying down. He sits up quickly, spinning around before he finally (frantically), places his hands on Mike's arms, pulling him into a worried yet thankful hug.

"Oh my god," Will breathes out, his grip tight, clinging on to Mike for dear life.

"Hey, woah, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm here."

"Jesus, Mike, don't— don't do that."

"Will, I was just sitting up in bed. You're okay. You're safe. I'm here."

"Fuck..."

"What's wrong? What's going on? Talk to me."

"Nothing. It's nothing. You're right. I'm fine."

"Was it another nightmare? A now memory?"

"Nightmare."

"What happened in it?"

"Just the usual stuff."

"What else?"

"I can't, Mike. I can't say it."

"Hey, it wasn't real, okay? Whatever it is, it can't hurt you. Okay?" Mike says, cupping Will's cheeks, to which Will nods and takes a big gulp.

"I was in the Upside Down, and we were fighting One, and— and you— you—"

"Hey, it's okay. You can tell me, Will. I won't be mad or anything. We're in this together, alright?"

"You were dead," Will chokes out, tears filling his eyes, and Mike's face goes pale. "You died. Right— right in front of me and there was nothing I could do about it, Mike. I was frozen. I couldn't move. It's like I was paralyzed in fear. And I just watched you die."

Will is fully sobbing now, Mike wrapping his arms around Will tightly, rocking back and forth to comfort him, beginning to hum. By the time Will's tears stop, Mike's sleeve is soaked, sticking to his skin. Mike leaves a kiss on Will's cheek, taking his hand as they leave his room and go downstairs, saying hi to Karen and Holly before going straight to the basement.

"Nice of you to finally join us," Dustin jokes as the two make the final step.

"Honey, have you been crying?" Joyce asks, coming over and pulling at the skin on Will's face.

"I'm fine, Mom. It was just a nightmare," Will says, annoyed, swatting her hands away.

"What kind of nightmare? Do you want to talk about it?"

"I already did with him, Mrs. Byers," Mike chimes in.

"Oh! Really?" Joyce asks with surprise.

"Yeah, um...in my room..."

"Will slept in your room?" Hopper asks from across the room, and suddenly Mike feels like all eyes are on him.

"W-well, yeah, but, I mean, it's not like we haven't done it before. I mean, we used to do it all the time when we were kids, and—"

"Well, yeah, you guys would have sleepovers," Joyce says, going over and taking a bite of her own breakfast, "but you never shared a bed."

"Woah, woah, woah— sharing a bed?" Hopper exclaims, clearly not a fan of the idea of two teenagers sharing one.

"Who said anything about sharing a bed?" Mike questions, crossing his arms.

"Mike, to be fair, there's not enough room on your floor for a sleeping bag," Nancy chimes in.

Mike goes quiet after that, stepping back just a bit and shrinking in on himself. Well, here it is. The moment he's been dreading. Everyone finding out that he's in love with his best friend. Will looks at Mike with worry, his brows furrowing and a sad smile appearing on his face.

"I don't see the big deal. I've let Nancy spend the night before," Joyce says with a shurg.

"Seriously, Mom?" Jonathan growns running his hands over and throwing his head back in frustration.

"Well, Will and Mike have been best friends since they were little kids. I don't see the problem with it."

"Right, yeah, we're friends," Mike mumbles out, dodging people's eyes as he goes and sits on the couch, Will following behind him aimlessly.

Since the Upside Down took over Hawkins two years ago now, spending every day inside Mike's house became quite boring very quickly. After two months or so of playing Super Mario Bros. on Mike's Nintendo every day to pass the time, everyone eventually got bored. They knew exactly how each other played, so it wasn't fun anymore. Then, of course, they tried playing with some of Mike's old toys that he still has lying around in boxes, but that wasn't entertaining, either. He'd stopped playing with them for a reason. 

In the end, everyone had found their thing to keep them going. For Lucas, it was checking up on Max at the hospital. For Dustin, it was calling Suzie on Cerebro every chance he got. For Nancy and Jonathan, it was writing about and photographing everything, like they're planning on making a book about it. For Will, it had been art. And for Mike, well, it took him longer than anyone to figure out what he was going to do with all of his spare time. He'd tried a lot, like playing guitar, or writing stories, but what came most naturally had to do with the box sitting in his dresser, full of all those papers he's written. Ones that he's not sure he'll ever be able to show anyone.

In the late afternoon, Mike enters his room, ready to take a nap. He slips off his shirt, shoes, and socks, the space heaters throughout his house causing him to sweat. He's about to crawl into bed when he notices Will sitting against the wall below his window. Mike goes and sits on his bed across from Will, going to tap his shoulder when he notices what Will is holding in his hands. The box from his dresser, one of the papers, between his thumb and pointer fingers.

"I see you found my box of secrets," Mike says, testing the waters of how Will is feeling.

"You wrote me letters?" Will asks, and Mike isn't sure if he's upset or not.

"I mean, sort of? When I would sit down and write them to El, I would write one for you, too, but..."

"You signed all of them Love, Mike."

"Why do you think I never sent any of them?"

"Mike, you should have told me," Will says. Ah, Mike thinks to himself. He's frustrated.

"I was scared. I mean, I was able to tell my best friend that I loved him but not my girlfriend. If anyone but you saw, I— I was worried what they might start to think about me. About us. I didn't want to do that to you. And I especially didn't want to send them and then have you not feel the same way."

"Yeah, but Mike, you should have told me after we got together, then. We promised that we wouldn't keep things from each other anymore, that we would actually talk."

"Will, it's just a couple of letters."

"A couple? Mike, there's a letter in here dated every day since I moved. You have three years worth of letters in this box, and you didn't think it was important enough to tell me?"

"What do you want me to say? Will, this is the scariest and hardest and best part of my life all at the same time, and for good reason! I'm allowed to have conflicted feelings."

"It is for me, too, but I'm your boyfriend, Mike! And you promised that we wouldn't keep secrets from each other anymore."

"I love you, okay? That's what all the letters say. Every single one is about how much I missed you and how much I love you and how I can't imagine my life without you. But you already know all of that, and if you didn't, then this should be enough to tell you that. I mean, I was going to wait until after I was gone to give you the box because I know that I'll be writing the letters for the rest of my life, and I need you to know when I'm no longer here that I still love you, and just how much I've loved you while I've lived. You are my will to live."

Mike is crouched down to Will now, their eyes locked on each other. Their foreheads fall against each other, both of them feeling guilt-ridden for causing the other to yell. Will is the first to move after, putting the box down and taking Mike's hands in his, showing that he understands, that he gets it, that he's still mad but that he knows where Mike is coming from. Mike rubs his thumbs over the top of Will's hands, signifying that it's okay and that he cares about how Will feels and what he has to say.

"I'm sorry for getting angry and yelling," Will says quietly, his and Mike's eyes now on their hands.

"I'm sorry for lying to you," Mike says, falling onto his back, his hands still interlocked with Will's.

"What are you doing?" Will asks with a laugh.

"I came in here to take a nap, but I'm too tired to climb back up on my bed, so I'm gonna sleep on the floor."

"You're such a dork," Will snorts, allowing Mike to pull him down so they're cuddling on the floor together.

"And Nancy said there's not enough room for a sleeping back," Mike jokes, the two falling into a fit of laughter before mumbling off into sleep.

#byler #will byers/mike wheeler #mike wheeler/will byers #will byers #mike wheeler #post apocalyptic #post apocalypse #mike wheeler loves will byers #will byers loves mike wheeler

[serendipitouswasteland]

I Kissed A Boy and I Like It

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: byler pov: third person written: July 27, 2022 first published: August 1, 2022 word count: 3,901 - summary: Growing up as a kid and a teenager in the '80s isn't totally awful for one Mike Wheeler. He has a Supercom walkie talkie, two different bikes, the basement of his home all to himself (most of the time), a family that loves him, and five really amazing friends. But, there is one thing that makes life absolute Hell: the constant urge to kiss his best friend.

or

Mike Wheeler and El Hopper broke up because they both need something else in their lives, namely for Mike, kissing boys.

Mike walks down the school hallway with El by his side. When they were dating, their hallway conversations were few and far between, Mike's eyes traveling elsewhere as his mind would consistently snap back to one Will Byers, his best friend who was always an earshot away.

Now, though, with Mike and El no longer being together, Mike can't help but feel like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. During their breakup conversation, Mike had told El the truth, and El had shared her own, and they agreed that they'd be better off as friends. That much has held true with the two being undeniably closer than ever.

"What about him?" El asks, pointing to a random guy as they're about to enter their classroom.

"No," Mike says with a snort, El laughing along.

The two make their way to their seats, setting their bags down next to each other and giving one another a smile, their silent moment interrupted by Will taking his place in front of Mike and Max taking hers in front of El, Dustin and Lucas following close behind, clearly exhausted and out of breath.

"Hey!" Will says, the biggest smile on his face as he breathes heavily.

Mike looks at Will intently, staring into his eyes, watching as they sparkle and how his skin is practically growing, his smile one of the biggest Mike has seen in a while (though he knows it could be bigger, after everything that's happened, he wasn't going to complain). Mike smiles back, and watches as Will's fades just a slight bit, watching as their facial expressions becomes one that they share. They stare at each other for a quick moment, Mike being the one to look away once he starts to feel his face heat up.

"So, uh, why are the four of you all out of breath?"

"Max decided we should race," Lucas huffs out as he falls into his chair in front of Max.

"I gave you a heads up this morning!"

"Yeah, but...you didn't say when."

"I would just like to make it clear that I beat Lucas," Dustin says, Will rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but Will is the one who won the whole thing. I didn't think you had it in you, Byers."

"Eh. It's not that surprising. I mean, he almost outran a demogorgon," Mike says with a shrug, Will's smile faltering a bit more. "Sorry, I didn't— I mean, I know you're not— just..."

"No, Mike. You're fine, it's just me. You don't have to apologize."

"What? No! I made you upset, and—"

"Oh my god, do you two ever shut up?" Max exclaims, her, El, and Lucas falling into a bit of laughter at her comment.

"Sorry," both Mike and Will whisper at the same time.

"We'll talk about this later," Mike says sternly, Will's face flushing as he turns to face the front of the class.

Mike grabs his books out of his bag and sets them on his desk, leaning over to El to get a pencil. She sighs heavily, sifting through her bag, but Mike tells her nevermind when Will knowingly tosses a pencil behind him. Mike whispers a thank-you before facing the board, easily getting distracted as the lesson goes on, namely when Will raises his hand to answer a question. Mike watches as Will's arm stretches high, slowly lowering as he gets called on.

The muscles in Will's arm relax as he rests his arm on the back of his chair, twirling his pencil between two fingers. Mike doesn't know why, but he suddenly feels hot all over, covering his mouth his hand to try and hide part of his face. Even Will's voice gets to Mike, the slight uncertainty that only he's able to pick up on.

When Will's finished answering the question, Mike lets out a small cough into his shoulder, turning away from the rest of the class. Will turns around to look at him, making sure he's okay, and Mike gives a quick nod and smile, pointing his pencil back toward the board as to say "I'm fine, let's pay attention".

Lunch, something that Mike once loved, has become a part of his day full of the utmost dread. After Lucas and Will decided not to join Hellfire, Mike felt like he had to choose between the two: his friends, or a club where he can fit in. In the end, Will had told him to join, and so he did, because he thought that was what Will wanted. Fact was, Mike had been wrong in that regard. He knows this for one reason: Will sits at the complete opposite side of the lunch room with Lucas, Max, and El, leaving Mike and Dustin to be alone with the Hellfire club.

It's not that Mike has a problem with Will not sitting with them at lunch, because he doesn't, but it's the mere distance between them. It's like Will doesn't want to be seen within twenty feet of him. Today, though, was going to be different, because Eddie (the dungeon master of Hellfire) wasn't going to be there on account of him having been suspended. Mike gets his food and quickly takes what's El's usual spot at their lunch table next to Will, smiling brightly as he puts his tray on the table.

"Hey!" Mike practically yells, immediately looking at Will.

"Hey. Not sitting with your club of losers?"

"Okay, first of all, this is the losers table, alright? Second, Eddie got suspended yesterday, so I figured why not come and sit with my best friend while I have the chance?"

"Right," Will says, taking a bite of his food.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just find it kind of funny, is all."

"Funny?"

"Yeah, I mean, that he got suspended for selling drugs to Chrissy Cunningham, of all people, out at the picnic table in the woods. And all because of Jason."

"Hey, that's my team captain you're talking about," Lucas says with a pointed look.

"Yeah, but Lucas, he's awful. He literally used Hopper's death at the pep rally before the championship game."

"Didn't he also, like, try and kill Eddie?" Max asks, finally taking off her headphones when the track she'd been listening to finishes.

"Which brings us back to him selling Chrissy drugs."

"Which she asked for," Dustin notes, El nodding along.

"Wait, how do you know all of this?" Mike asks, his eyes still locked on Will.

"Being the quiet gay kid comes in handy, sometimes," Will says, Max, Lucas, and El, all laughing a bit with him.

"Wait- what?"

"What?" Will asks, his brows furrowed as he finally meets Mike's gaze. "Oh. Oh, shit, um..."

"You're—" Mike cuts himself off, looking at Dustin to see if he knew, but he just shrugs it off like he'd expected it.

"Can we not make this a big deal? We can talk about it later when you finish apologizing over nothing."

"I just don't get why you didn't tell me. I mean, come on, Will. I'm your best friend."

"Yeah, well, you haven't really been present over the past year, have you?" Will blurts out, his face stern and his voice cold.

Mike doesn't even blink at Will's words. He knows he's right. Except it hasn't been a year. It's been more than that. It's been since the snowball back in '84, and it's now spring of '86 and despite what he's done to amend that, it's still not enough. After all, this is his first time having lunch with Will in almost two months.

"Later it is then," Mike says, not wanting to ruin the moment any further.

All throughout lunch, Mike steals glances over at Will when he's not looking. Not that he doesn't look when Will is, but, that was different. That wasn't the staring that he would do. When Will was looking, it was always rapid blinking and trying to keep his cheeks from flushes and words from slipping. But when Will wasn't looking? It made it all so much easier: the being able to admire Will while he wasn't looking, the thoughts in his mind running free without fear of a slip (to an extent), and Will not seeing and being able to tell him to stop.

The end of the school day Will always be a struggle for Mike on the days he goes straight home without stopping by a friend's or without a friend coming with him. Luckily, it's a Friday, and Will promised he would come over (hence his push to finish their conversation later on). Everyone waves goodbye to El as she gets in the car with Jonathan, the rest of them standing by the bike rack while Mike undoes his bike lock.

"Are you sure that you'll be able to fit on there?" Lucas asks with concern, Dustin examining Mike's bike intently.

"Yeah, I mean, why wouldn't I? We've done it before," Will responds, Dustin shaking his head.

"When we were, like, ten! That was five years ago, and we're teenagers now," Lucas continues, using his hands as he speaks to put emphasis on the age and time differences.

"Lucas is right," Mike huffs, looking at his bike, then Will, and lastly himself. "We're not both going to fit."

"We'll just walk it back then, right? Just like when we were kids and one of us would fall and get hurt."

"You mean when you would fall and get hurt," Dustin corrects.

"I hate when you guys talk about that stuff. You really know how to make a girl feel left out," Max chimes in, finally having kicked her skateboard up.

"Sorry," Will says, giving her a polite smile.

Mike just rolls his eyes, going back to assessing the bike situation. The thing with Mike and Max, they don't hate each other. They don't even dislike each other. In fact, they've grown to have a mutual respect for one another and agreed to get along for the sake of El. Because of that, they've even found that there's some common ground between them (that being them both being moody, hormonal teenagers, but nonetheless...). Still, though, they don't necessarily like each other.

"What was that for, Wheeler?" Max asks, only slightly snarky.

"Yeah, what the hell, man?" Lucas asks. There was that, too— Lucas and Max being boyfriend and girlfriend (thought Mike actually liked the idea of them together, because despite their few differences they do get along on a lot. They speak to each other).

"Nothing, just, don't worry about it, alright? You guys go on ahead and Will and I will figure something out. You too, Dustin. We both know that after '83 your mom will flip if you're not home by sundown."

"Watch out for cars," Dustin says as he and Lucas hop on their bikes and Mikes gets on her skateboard, the three going off together, laughter quickly filling the air among them.

Mike watches as they leave, thinking about what walking home with Will is going to be like. This wasn't something that had ever happened (mostly because last spring Will's mom finally let him start going off on his own again since he as officially a teenager). It made Mike nervous, the knowing that he was going to be alone with Will for a good while, the school not being directly in the middle of town, but still far enough to make a walk back to his house absolute hell.

Much to Mike's surprise, the walk home is fairly quiet between the two, only pointing out random road signs here and there, doing a little people watching, and laughing at some of the things they see along the way, but other than that, the two don't actually talk. Not that it's awkward or that they don't want to. That wasn't the case at all. They simply didn't need to.

They eventually get to Mike's house and they lean his bike against the wall in the garage, Mike holding open the door for Will as the two go inside, a little drizzle starting to fall with the slight overcast filling the sky. If you'd asked Mike, he'd lie and tell you he didn't like the rain all that much, but that couldn't be further from the truth. To Mike, this was the perfect weather. Since he was a kid he's dreamed of going out and dancing and jumping around in the rain with someone, anyone, but as the years have gone that person has become Will every time, and Mike hates it.

Well, not entirely. He likes the idea, actually. Spending time with Will, his favorite person in the world, in his favorite weather? That was pure heaven. But he knows what others would think, what they might assume, the things they'd start to say, and that's why he hates it. He hates it because it's romantic, and all Mike's life he's been told that two guys being romantic with each other is wrong. Mike himself knows it's not, but if that was him? It was a chilling thought that made him want to crawl in on himself every time.

Mike enters after Will, shutting the garage door behind him and messing with his hair a bit as they enter into the kitchen where they find Karen, Mike's mom. She smiles at them brightly while chopping up some vegetables, presumably for the night's dinner.

"Hey, boys. What took you so long getting here?"

"Well, Will can't ride on the back of my bike anymore, so we had to walk it home."

"Oh, you should have called! You know I would have come and picked you up."

"I know, Mom, but Will was the one who wanted to walk."

"Alright, then. Do you guys want a snack or anything before you go on upstairs or the basement— wherever it is that you two hang out nowadays?"

"Why would we go upstairs?" Will asks, genuine confusion washing over him.

"Well I thought since Mike likes y—"

"Okay, Mom! We're going downstairs now!"

"I love you!"

"I love you too!" Mike shouts as he hurriedly pulls Will down to the basement with him, slinging his bag off his shoulder and to a random spot on the floor.

Mike runs his hands over his face, feeling hot all over. He feels like he's dying. Simply knowing what his mother was about to say makes him feel insane. After all, he'd told her that in confidence. Sure, he's updated her on it every now and then, but not once has he ever mentioned anything that Will felt, which for Mike, only made things that much scarier. He has no idea how Will feels about him, and a part of him doesn't want to, because what if it's not in the way that he wants? What would happen then?

"I still can't believe you rearranged down here. I don't think I'll ever get used to it," Will says, sitting on the couch that sits against the far wall.

"Well, at least our spot hasn't changed. I was going to move it, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to do it. I don't know. It's weird. It's like it's sacred, or something."

"Sacred?"

"Nothing. Nevermind. Uh, what do you want to do? I mean, I have my Nintendo system, and we can play Super Mario Bros., but that's about it."

"Mike, we need to talk," Will says, sitting up just a bit as Mike sits down next to him.

"No, it's fine, Will. You like guys. I don't care. You're still you. And I'm sorry for my comment about...everything. I shouldn't have said anything."

"That's not what I meant. I mean, yeah, it's all whatever at the end of the day, but sometimes you forget that you've been distant, Mike. Like, a lot."

"Hey, I tried. Remember September? And, you know, Halloween and that first week of November I was as there for you as you let me be, but you shut me out. I wanted to be there, but it got kind of hard when you didn't want me."

"Of course I want you! Wanted you there, I mean. I was just scared of you finding out that I— that I'm..."

"But why? Will, I've defended you from the things people have said about you our entire lives!"

"Yeah, but what people say about me and me actually being that thing is different, Mike. So, so different."

"That's not a bad thing. People will say things no matter what, you know? I mean, they've said some stuff about me. I think it was because we got so distant, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember Troy?"

"I wish I didn't."

"Well, he's stopped messing with you, right?"

"Yeah..."

"That's because, you know, you and El and Max? You all hang out with Lucas, and now he's one of the cool kids, the popular kids, and I don't blame him for that. Not anymore, at least. But because of that, you're semi-cool. But me? I'm still stuck with the weird kids that nobody likes, and so he's turned all that hate and anger he had for you...onto me."

"Well, what has he been saying?"

"Oh, you know, just the usual stuff. The things that he'd call you, mostly," Mike says with a gulp, unable to meet Will's eyes. "And, you know," Mike continues, his voice softer and quieter now, "that's not an excuse or anything, but."

Will doesn't let him say anymore, pulling him into a tight hug as tears begin to fall from Mike's eyes, running down his cheeks. Mike grips onto Will tightly, lightly scratching his back as he does so. The hug feels like it lasts for an eternity, but really it only lasts for a minute or two. Still, Mike takes it all in (even if there is a small part of him that's telling him to pull away, that this is wrong and that they shouldn't be so close, because there is, but he forces himself to ignore it— for Will's sake).

"You know, I think his words might've started getting to me," Mike says with a self-depricating laugh after him and Will pull apart.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, for the past— God, I don't even know long— I've had this thought. It's this thought about kissing someone. A boy. And I don't...I don't know what it means, and I don't know if I want to know, but— but I do know that I— I want to try it, because I feel like that's the only way for me to stop feeling like this. Like I'm messed up."

"Hey, woah, you are not messed up. I mean, sure, you have your problems— we all do— but wanting to know what it's like to kiss a guy is not one of them. I mean, I'd like to know, too."

"That's right. You haven't had your first kiss yet."

"No, I haven't. I wonder why," Will says sarcastically, him and Mike both letting out a bit of laughter at the end.

Things fall silent once again, this time endless tension between them, Mike knowing full well he didn't say all that he should have, nor all that he needed to, because while it is true that he's thought of kissing boys, it's always been one boy in particular. Mike glances over at Will, only to find Will doing the same thing, and they both look away again quickly. Mike taps his pointer finger on his knee, thinking deeply. Finally, he decides to just go for it and finish what he'd been saying before.

"The guy I said I wanted to kiss? He's not just any guy. He's a really, really great guy, actually. I've known him for a really long time and he means to world to me, and I know that I'm the same for him, so I don't want to mess things up, but, Will...Will, that guy is you."

Will snaps his head to be looking at Mike, his eyes wide. Mike almost regrets saying his words, but then he watches as Will's body relaxes, sinking comfortably into his spot on the couch. He smiles slyly, sitting to be facing Mike completely and crossing his legs, Mike following suit and doing the same, only he keeps one leg on the ground, bending his toes as he pushes against the floor.

"Well," Will starts, picking at the material of the couch beneath him and looking at Mike while batting his lashes, "maybe we can kill two birds with one stone.

Mike watches as Will shrugs, stopping his fumbling with his fingers and looking at Mike fully now, his gaze strong, forcing Mike to have to look away. He needs a moment to process. Had Will really just said that?

"I, uhm..."

"You don't have to if you don't want to! It was just a random little thought..."

"No, no! I...we should."

"Oh! Okay."

The two boys stare at each other for a moment before Mike leans in, cupping Will's cheek with one hand while the other pushes into the couch cushion below him. He waits until Will shows some form of reciprocation before bringing their lips together in a soft, slow motion. Will kisses back immediately, his hands traveling into Mike's hair and kneading through the curly mess. The kiss slowly becomes more heated, Mike slipping his tongue past Will's teeth and lips and into his mouth, really kissing him, because he's not sure that he'll ever get this chance again.

Once they pull back, Mike immediately licks his lips and his eyes go wide. Cherry. He puts his thumb to Will's lips, running it along them, feeling smudged chapstick all over them. His mind is barely able to comprehend how this has happened. Mike knows that happens when you kiss, but the flavor being so prominent sends him for a whirlwind, going back in for a second kiss because he wants more.

Will is happy to reciprocate, him being the one this time to take control as Mike does nothing but hungrily lick along Will's lips, savoring that cherry flavor that he's quickly found so endearing and so Will. After a while of that, Will's mouth trails away from Mike's, kissing around his cheeks and jaw, Mike lost in the flavor of cherry that's enveloped all of his taste-buds, so much so that he's sure he's breathing it in at this point.

"Are you okay?" Will asks, pulling back as he notices that Mike isn't all there.

"You taste like cherry," Mike says in response, licking his lips once more.

"Oh. That's because of my new chapstick that my mom bought me."

"I liked it."

"The chapstick?"

"Kissing you," Mike says, his eyes glued to Will's lips.

"Yeah, that was...it was really good. I think. I don't really know."

"Well did you like it?"

"Yeah..."

"Then it was good," Mike says with a giddy smile, feeling like he's on top of the world.

"Should we play Super Mario Bros. now?"

"Sure," Mike says, pushing the thoughts of what just transpired between them to the back of his mind. He'll save that for a later date when he can finally get up the courage to tell Will how he really feels about him. That he likes him.

#byler #will byers/mike wheeler #mike wheeler/will byers #will byers #mike wheeler #first kiss #will byers loves mike wheeler #mike wheeler loves will byers

[serendipitouswasteland]

That Person Wasn't A Girl, Was It?

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: byler pov: third person written: July 23, 2022 first published: July 24, 2022 word count: 1,985 - summary: After a long week of fighting Vecna from afar, the Cali Crew is finally safe and back in Hawkins with all of their friends and family (some better off than others). Then they watched as the Upside Down began to swallow their world whole. At first they wanted to create a plan, but they ended up calling it a night instead. But that brought on capers of its own, specifically between two boys who have been through it all together, leading them both to keep secrets from everyone they know and each other.

Will follows Mike upstairs and to his bedroom, a place that he hasn't seen in nearly a year now, maybe even longer. For the first few months after Will was still recovering from being possessed, the two would have a sleepover every night that they possibly could, as per Mike's request (although Will wasn't going to complain. after all, it allowed for some much needed one-on-one time with his best friend). Then things between Mike and El started to get more serious, and Will was happy for them, and he himself needed some time to himself, too, so when Mike began visiting El on Saturday's, Will hadn't had a problem. But then summer hit, and that's when everything changed.

During the school year, Will at least had Dustin to lean onto with being single (and singled-out) in comparison to Lucas and Max and Mike and El. But summer came and Dustin was off at science camp, so that left Will to be the third wheel to the rest of his friends. He didn't mind so much whenever they were all hanging out, or even when Mike and El weren't there, because Lucas and Max always made sure to make him feel included. But just like all couples, Max and Lucas went on their own dates sometimes, leaving Will with El and Mike.

Mike pushes his bedroom door open, allowing Will to go in first. As Will looks around, he can feel as his heart sinks to his stomach. It's a mess (and considering who Mike's mother is and how his room has always been spotless, Will could immediately sense that something is wrong). The floor is covered in piles of clothes, shoes, and school papers. The desk is littered with past-due assignments and...is that artwork? Will shakes his head, diverting his attention to the closet, the door open wide with a mirror hanging off of it, a jacket hanging over top of it. Inside it's clear that the mess isn't any better, only a few shirts hung up and junk crammed all on the floor. Even Mike's bed isn't made, the pillows all shuffled around and the comforter pulled halfway to the foot of the mattress.

"I know it's kind of a mess. I've been having some trouble keeping things clean and organized."

"Has your mom seen this?"

"Yeah, and she's not happy about it, but when I explained to her that...nevermind. It doesn't matter. Uhm, you can borrow whatever clothes that you want. I'm just gonna grab whatever this is and go to the bathroom and change, so I'll be right back."

"Okay."

Mike smiles tightly, leaving the room quickly with a pat on the doorframe. Will continues to look around for a moment before digging through one of the piles on the floor next to Mike's bed. He pulls out a white shirt with black sleeves, a red devil, some weapons, and the word Hellfire bridging over top of it all. Will slips off his gray sweatshirt (his yellow flannel having been taken off hours ago after he'd showered at the cabin) and slips the shirt on.

It's a bit long, a product of Mike being quite lanky, but Will fills it out pretty well. Will digs around some more, eventually finding a pair of gray sweatpants from years ago that, despite probably no longer fitting, Mike still has lying around. It was times like these that Will being shorter than Mike came in handy. Will slips out of his khakis and into the sweats quickly, his socks coming off too. He looks at himself in the mirror, insecurity quickly rushing over him, but that doesn't last long when his self-deprecating thoughts are interrupted by Mike clearing his throat at the door. Will turns around and does his best to give a small smile, Mike returning it and shutting the door slowly and quietly as to not wake anyone up.

"Hellfire," Mike says shakily, nervously glancing between Will and his bed as he sits on the mattress.

"Yeah, what is it? A band?"

"No, it's...shit. I was going to call you on the phone and tell you, but I remember my mom was on the phone with one of her friends until really late that night and I ended up falling asleep."

"Tell me what?" Will asks, sitting down next to Mike on the bed.

"Hellfire is the DnD club at school."

"Oh."

"I would tell Eddie, our dungeon master, about you all the time. He really wanted to meet you. You would've loved him."

"Eddie."

"Don't tell me you're jealous."

"What? No! No, I'm not jealous."

"You so are!"

"Maybe just a little bit."

"You have no reason to be. He was more of a mentor to me than anything. He taught me a bit on how to play the guitar, and he's the reason that I grew out my hair."

"Really?" Will says, this time in awe as he finally has an opening to talk about Mike's hair, but then...

"Yeah, I mean," Mike yawns, stretching his arms out and crawling over to the far side of his bed, covering himself with his blanket.

"Are you gonna finish that thought?" Will asks, sliding under the comforter on his own half of the mattress.

"No," Mike says simply, and they both laugh a little. "Goodnight, Will."

"Goodnight, Mike."

Will lays facing away from Mike, staring into the open closet. Despite the room being filled with darkness, he's able to see an outline of what looks to be a shelf in the corner, something that hadn't been there the summer prior. Will reaches his arm out, pushing the door closed slightly, and he can feel Mike turn over in the bed before turning back. Will sighs quietly, snaking his arm back under the blanket and pulling it up to his neck, a sudden chill running through him, causing his teeth to chitter.

"Hey," Mike says, placing a hand on Will's shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just cold."

"Does that mean he's back in you?"

"I don't know," Will says nervously, wrapping his arms around himself tightly, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Then, as if it had happened a million times before (even though it hadn't ever), Mike slips his arms around Will's waist, pulling him close until their bodies are flush. It would be a lie to say that Will's body temperature didn't rise immediately. He can feel as his heartbeat gets faster, his breathing becoming deeper and uneven, his mouth drying, all of that worsened when Mike buries his head in Will's neck, his breath hot on the sensitive skin that lies there, sending a rush down Will's spine.

"Better?" Mike says into Will's ear, barely above a whisper, a tone of voice that Will has grown to know quite well over the years.

"Y-yeah. Better."

"Good," Mike says resting his head back in Will's neck.

It goes quiet after that, but neither boy falls asleep. Mike is rubbing circles against Will's elbows and nuzzling his face into his neck continuously, the small amount of friction enough to keep Will from going as cold as he'd been before. After a long, daunting silence, Will finally turns over to be face to face with Mike, his breath immediately catching in his throat. With his eyes now well-adjusted to the darkness, Will can see that Mike's face as a flushed, soft look to it, his hair ruffed all up already, and his eyes barely staying open. Guilt washed through him, hating that he's keeping up his friend.

"You don't have to watch over me you know. You're allowed to go to sleep."

"I know, but," a yawn, "I want to. Someone has to."

"Nancy is just down the hall. If I need anything I can—"

"But I'm already right here," Mike says firmly, and it's silent for a moment again. "El told me about the painting."

"What?"

"It was after she broke up with me."

"Wait, you guys broke up?"

"Yeah, but, that's not...I was so confused because I thought that I had said what she wanted me to say, because of the painting, but she told me that she didn't commission it. And I didn't think that she had, but you've never lied to me before, so I went with it, but..."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied. I just thought that if I said the right thing that you'd finally be able to tell El that you love her and—"

"But I don't."

"What?"

"I mean, I do, but...not like that."

"I don't— but you said that if you had just said it that—"

"That doesn't mean that I wanted to say it, or that I meant it, and she knew that. But the painting...when she told me that she didn't commission, I new right away what it meant."

"And what's that?"

"El wrote me a letter the day before I left for Lenora. She'd told me that you were painting a lot but wouldn't show anyone. That she thought it was for a girl, that you liked someone and that you'd been acting weird."

"Oh."

"Then you had it at the airport, and you didn't give it to me, so I was confused, but then El mentioned her friends, well, I guess they weren't actually her friends, but, my point is, she mentioned Angela, and you seemed nervous all of a sudden, so I thought that it must have been for her."

"What? No! No. Angela is not my type."

"Well after seeing her that's what I thought, too. I mean, you? Crushing on a preppy blonde? They wish," Mike jokes, pulling a laugh from Will. "But then in the van...if El hadn't commissioned it, and what I said to her wasn't what she wanted to hear, and the painting was for someone you like, then..."

Will starts to pull back, worried for what's to come, but Mike pulls him close again, caressing Will's cheek. He pulls their foreheads together, their noses brushing together as a smile creeps on his face.

"That person wasn't a girl, was it?" Mike asks, sincerity in his voice.

"I—"

The words Will was going to say get caught in his throat as Mike stares at him hesitantly. Then, Mike's lips are on his own, the action being soft and slow, caring and sweet. It takes Will a moment to realize what's happening, but when he does he slowly starts moving his lips in sync with Mike's, not entirely sure what exactly he's supposed to be doing. Will had dreamt of times like this; having his first kiss. Now it was actually happening, and with his best friend, a boy he's been in love with since before he went missing those years ago.

Mike's hand pulls Will close by the back of his head, fingers carding through the smooth, short hair. Will lets one hand travel up Mike's chest, resting on his shoulder, the other one landing between his neck and jaw. Mike pulls back, his lips glossy. He brings his other hand up to Will's cheek, running a thumb over his mouth. Will shudders under the touch, and he feels like he's on fire.

"I love you," Mike says, pressing a kiss to Will's cheek.

"I love you too," Will says without a second thought, the words all squished together. There's a calm smile on both their faces, but the on on Mike's quickly fades as he looks away from Will's face.

"You're shivering," Mike says, running his hand up and down Will's arm.

"Like I said at the cabin, I can feel him."

"Well I'm not leaving your side," Mike says, wrapping his arms around Will's waist once again.

#byler #will byers/mike wheeler #mike wheeler/will byers #will byers #mike wheeler #angst #light angst #friends to lovers #requited unrequited love

[serendipitouswasteland]

Out of Context

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: buddie pov: outsider, first person written: March 30, 2022 first published: March 30, 2022 word count: 1,038 - summary: Two men wearing nice suits walk into the room, shoulders brushing as they walk past each other. One is slightly taller than the other, the former wearing a maroon suit over a black turtleneck, his counterpart wearing navy blue. The one in navy has brown hair and some stubble, an amused look on his face as he adjusts a gold watch on his wrist. The one in maroon has dark copper curls, his face being more serious. They one in blue looks at the other, stifling a slight laugh that slips out and pulling his mouth into a closed-lip smile, shaking his head. I turn to Simone, asking for his input.

"What do you think?" I ask, and Simone takes a moment, nodding when he's made his judgement.

"They love each other."

"You think so?"

"Oh, I know so. Look at how they react to each other. They remind me of you and I when we were younger."

or a fic from the perspective of the two men and the (unseen) bartender off to the far left in the photo of buddie playing poker. - A/N: The mere thought of these two guys and the bartender gossipping about Buddie and doing some people watching makes me so freaking giddy. Like, you can't tell me that's not what they're doing. (Well, technically you could, but I just wouldn't listen.) I really hope you guys enjoy this one, as it was really fun to write. Really, it's just to give us all a good laugh (seriously I can't stop giggling while writing this, that's how ridiculous it is).

Simone and I sit at the bar counter, talking away with the bartender as we share life stories. After just over thirty years of partnership, ten of those having spent being married, we've garnered a lot to say. Our favorite thing, though, isn't sharing our own stories, but admiring other's stories from afar. Watching as their lives unfold or fall in place right in front of them, sometimes without them even realizing it, is truly beautiful, even when what's happened isn't necessarily good. I take Simone's hand, getting another drink from the bartender, the three of us talking about the different people in the room. That's when a certain pair catches my eye. 

Two men wearing nice suits walk into the room, shoulders brushing as they walk past each other. One is slightly taller than the other, the former wearing a maroon suit over a black turtleneck, his counterpart wearing navy blue. The one in navy has brown hair and some stubble, an amused look on his face as he adjusts a gold watch on his wrist. The one in maroon has dark copper curls, his face being more serious. They one in blue looks at the other, stifling a slight laugh that slips out and pulling his mouth into a closed-lip smile, shaking his head. I turn to Simone, asking for his input.

"What do you think?" I ask, and Simone takes a moment, nodding when he's made his judgement.

"They love each other," he says, his accent thick, and I smile as I look back at the two men.

"You think so?"

"Oh, I know so. Look at how they react to each other. They remind me of you and I when we were younger," Simone says, and I let my mind wander for a moment down memory lane in search of the memories he's reminded me of. "I just don't think they know it yet."

The one in blue pulls out a chair for the other at a poker table in the center of the room, the two sitting unbelievably close. Looking around, I notice the amount of room they have. They could have their own personal space, be in their own bubbles, but they're choosingly sitting as close as possible while remaining in their own seats. They seem to know the woman to their left, quickly engaging in conversation with her, the three of them smiling. The smile on the man in maroon's face disappears quickly, though.

"What should we call them?" I ask, this time getting a response from the bartender.

"They're firefighters," he says, and both Simone and I turn to him.

"How do you know?" Simone asks, as intrigued as I am.

"Well the one in maroon was one the news forever ago when he saved a bunch of people from a rollercoaster. He was also on the news after a ladder truck crushed his leg. The other was on the news not too long ago, a year or two maybe, after getting shot by this guy targeting firefighters."

"Jesus," I say, shaking my head. "What a line of work to be in."

The bartender shrugs, cleaning some glasses. "There's been worse. Besides, either of them could have died. More than once. I think there's a reason they're still alive."

"Told you," Simone says, and I give him a kiss on the cheek while I pat his hand. "They don't know that they're in love yet."

"That still doesn't answer my question," I say, and the bartender nods.

"The one in maroon is Evan Buckley. The one in navy is Edmundo Diaz."

"Evan and Edmundo," I hum, seeing the appeal.

They look like an Evan and Edmundo with how they're dressed, their fancy suits sounding like they need proper names. Something tells me, though, that those aren't the names they go by. Then, I hear it. A loud exclamation from Edmundo, a frustrated smile on his face as he hits his palms on the table, shouting 'Buck'. So, Evan does not go by Evan, but 'Buck'. It's a shortened version of his last name, I assume, making sense with his job. It would be easier for his fire captain to call him Buck than Buckley. As for the other, Edmundo still feels off. It's in the way he smiles, I can see that it's not what he has people call him. I continue listening, waiting for the one in navy to say something, but he doesn't. He remains mostly silent, few words coming out, and they aren't relevant to what I'm searching for. Then—

"Eddie– Eds," Buck says, and he's laughing, and he's hitting his hand on the table as he doubles over, his other hand falling onto Edmundo's– Eddie's– shoulder, slowly falling until it's sitting on his knee.

"Buck!" Eddie shouts, falling into laughter too, his hand following Buck's.

Their laughter stifles, the two smiling at each other as they lock eyes. It's a beautiful sight to see two people so in love. Eddie pulls back first, Buck following suit. They turn back to the poker table, each one giving the other a glance one right after the other without each other seeing. Their game goes on, and it seems as though Eddie is doing really well. There is, though, the body language of the dealer that suggests she has a thing for Eddie, likely flirting with him in some way. He simply smiles and laughs, and I notice Buck is staring at him without him noticing, a look of jealousy on his face. When prompted by the woman to his left, however, all of that washes away, and he's back to being focused on the game. There's more to the story, but I don't dare go up and ask. I take Simone's hand, bringing it up to my mouth and kissing his knuckles.

"I think that's enough people watching for tonight," I say, setting more than enough money under my glass to pay for our tab. We leave our seats, arms linked, and as we're about to exit I take one glance back at the poker table to find both Buck and Eddie staring back at me. Maybe my thoughts about them aren't entirely out of context after all.

#buddie #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #original character #people watching #pov first person #pov outsider

[serendipitouswasteland]

Mike's Unsaid "I Love You"s

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: byler pov: third person written: July 12, 2022 first published: July 12, 2022 word count: 2,493 - summary: "Will, you know that's not true! Of course I care about you!"

"Really? Then Where's my letter?"

Will, Lucas, Dustin, El, Erica and Mike are sitting at the far end of the dining table in the Wheeler house, Mike's parents and sisters as well as other friends and family of the boys scattered around, too. Despite everything going on right now, they still had to eat, and everyone was glad that Karen was such a good cook (with the exception of Ted, whom, despite having been told the truth, still doesn't believe any of what they're saying). Will picks at the food on his plate, glancing around at everyone that's there.

You have Steve, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle in the doorway to the foyer, most likely talking about next steps. Looking past them you could find Ted sitting in his recliner just like always, Holly sitting in his lap. In the kitchen was Karen, Joyce, Hopper, Murray and the rest of the parents all looking visibly concerned, and by the expressions on each of their faces and the constant glances and weak smiles toward the kids, it was obvious they were worried with how to keep all of them safe.

Will sighs before looking up at his friends. None of them had said much at all since sitting down to eat. Two years this had been happening, and things had changed between all of them. Lucas lost his first love, Dustin lost one of the people he looked up to most, El had lost for the first time ever (but she wasn't going to give up just yet), and Mike?

Well, Mike hadn't done much to result in any changes to him, but Will has known Mike for twelve years now, so when he started being colder to everyone and more closed off than normal, Will was shocked to say the least. The problem was that Mike was the most closed off with him, so there wasn't anything that Will could do about it. If his best friend who always opened up to him wasn't going to let him in, what was there to do? Get down on his hands and knees and beg him to tell him what was going wrong? Will may love him, but he wouldn't do something that wasn't warranted and that would only cause him to be embarrassed.

Then, yes, there was the fact of Will being in love with Mike. With it being the year of 1988, Will has officially loved Mike for half a decade. Five whole years. At this point, there was no way that Will would stop loving him any time soon. Even if Mike died tomorrow, Will would still be in love with him for years to come because it's Mike.

"What do you think, Will?" El asks, but it's immediately made clear to everyone that Will has no idea what's going on.

"Hm?" Will hums, wanting to be clued in on the conversation.

That is until his eyes meet Mike's. Usually Mike would be the one to tell him what he missed, rant to him about how wrong someone was about a certain thing they said, eventually leading them down this he said/she said rabbit hole that there was no way of getting out of, but that doesn't happen. Mike gives himself less than a second to continue looking at Will before he's looking down at his plate. Part of it angers Will, but it mostly just makes him sad. Why was Mike being such an asshole to him?

"Are you okay? You've been spacing out a lot lately," Lucas asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Will lies, and everyone quickly believes him– everyone but Mike.

"Bullshit," Mike mumbles, trying to be quiet but when it comes to making sure Will is okay that's never really been possible for him (except for when they were alone and it was just the two of them, or he was able to get close enough to Will to whisper in the quietest, softest voice that Will had ever heard).

"You don't get to call bullshit on what I say anymore."

"Too late. I just did."

"And yet you couldn't have been bothered to care to ask how I was feeling."

Mike drops his fork, and Will watches as his jaw shifts, his tongue poking at both of his cheeks from the inside. He's trying not to say something, but it doesn't last long.

"It's not my fucking job to check up on you 24/7," Mike says, pushing back his chair and standing up from the table, one foot out the room when Will stands up, too.

"Then what the hell have you been doing your whole life? Pretending to not be a self-centered asshole? Are you really that vain and selfish?"

"I'm not selfish!"

"Because that totally explains why you only ever open up to someone when it's convenient for you."

"What the hell are you even talking about?"

"I mean when El was with Brenner again and you used me in an emotionally vulnerable state to get me back on your side, but you didn't need that for me to be ready to go find her because in case you didn't notice, Mike, she's my sister. Then there was when you and El broke up and you begged her to say because you claimed to need her, but you were doing completely fine without her, weren't you? After all, she's not the reason Hawkins felt different, I was. Or was that just another lie? Part of me kind of hopes it was because that would just be gold. Pure fucking gold for Mr. Friends Don't Lie to turn out to be the biggest liar around!"

"Here you are yelling at me and yet you're trying to call me the selfish asshole? El and I breaking up has nothing to do with you, and then you use it for your own personal gain in an argument about selfishness? How about how..."

Mike continues yelling, following Will as he makes his way upstairs, trying to get away from everyone and all of the noise. Will walks into Mike's room, covering his ears, but that doesn't keep him from being able to hear Mike's muffled yells and the bedroom door slamming shut behind him. Will's head is swimming, pounding, a headache quickly pinching at all of the nerves in his brain as Mike continues to be furious with him, and Will had no idea why, because to him what he'd said was true. That didn't change the fact that Mike clearly had very differing views. In all truthfulness, Will almost forgot what they were fighting about. All Will knows at this point is that he can't take Mike's yelling anymore, so he snaps— he really snaps.

"You know I find it real funny how you haven't cared at all about anything I've had to say for years, and yet all of a sudden I say one thing that was meant as a joke and it's the biggest thing in the world. Do you even realize how fucking stupid that sounds? You have made it so glaringly clear that you don't give a shit about anyone but yourself, which what once would've been totally unlike you now but now seems like your only personality trait. I mean, you are such a douchebag, Mike! I can't believe I once thought that you actually cared about me!"

"Will, you know that's not true! Of course I care about you!"

"Really? Then where's my letter? Or do I have to remind you that you only called me three times out of an entire year?"

Mike's raises his eyebrows, clenching his jaw as he walks over to his bedside table while starting to yell again. Will falls to the ground, placing his hands on the back of his head, trying to keep himself from punching something. He's about to get up and leave when Mike throws a pile of papers at Will's feet, his anger still not having left yet. Will looks up at Mike with a hateful, questioning glare before picking up one of the papers. A letter, Will quickly notes as he starts to read.

"There. My heart laid bare on every single one of those stupid letters that, for some reason, I couldn't ever bring myself to send, but it's not because I don't care about you, Will. Of course I care about you! It's all that I have ever done! I don't know a single moment of my life where I haven't cared about you. You are quite literally the first thing I think about every morning I wake up and every time that I fall asleep. You somehow even find a way to sneak into my dreams, not to mention my love letters to my girlfriend that I didn't even realize were love letters to you until I had finished writing them, and I knew that I couldn't send them because then 'What would Will think?' and I know that it's stupid because you out of all people would understand, but it's not that easy, Will.

"And I'm sorry, okay? I am so, so sorry for never sending you any letters but it's a lot more than me suddenly not caring anymore because believe me Will, I care. I care so damn much that I'm pretty sure that, at this point, it's too much, because I don't think I can take it anymore!"

Will is staring at the bottom of the first letter he had picked up, his pointer finger resting on the words signed at the bottom. He quickly glances away as he shifts through the rest of the letters with his free hand, them all saying the same thing at the end, and there's dozens of them. It's like someone dumped the entire gift card aisle at the store into his lap, and Will had to look at every single one.

"And now you're not even paying attention to me. Great. Just great..." Will can hear Mike mumble, his anger having slowed and now feeling simple frustration as he turns around and rests his hands on his dresser.

"Mike," Will says with a gulp at the end, unsure if what he's reading has the implications that he thinks. "You signed all of these 'Love, Mike.'"

"I know," Mike make breathes, not turning around, his head hung low.

Will looks up from the letters finally, keeping one held in his hand as he stands up and moves to be standing behind Mike. He holds the paper out where both of them can see, one of his arms snaking around Mike's waist without either of them realizing it as Will tries to convey the thoughts that he's having, but it's hard when he's just yelled all of those words at the top of his lungs.

"You wrote that you love me," Will says, letting the letter fall onto the top of the dresser.

"Like I said, my heart laid bare."

"Why didn't you ever say anything? You had two whole years, Mike, and not a word about any of this."

"I was scared, okay? I didn't want you thinking anything bad about me or that there was something wrong with me because even I still feel like there is."

"Mike, nothing in this world could make me think that about you. You're my best friend and...and I have been in love with you for five years now, which is crazy to me because we were just kids and I thought that it was because we hung out all of the time so that's why I felt those things, but...but then I moved and just, god, the mere thought of you was able to make me blush like crazy. I felt like a madman while I was in California waiting for a call or a letter from you or something, but it never came, and I was still somehow so in love with you and– and I still am. God, Mike, how could you not see it? How could you not know that I'm in love with you?"

Silence falls over them, Mike finally turning and looking at Will, their eyes meeting for only the second time tonight. Will stares at the brown surrounding Mike's iris, taking it in. They haven't really made eye contact like this since Mike had come to visit in California and he and Will got into that huge fight at the roller rink, but that was the last time until now that they'd held any eye contact for more than five seconds. Now with how Mike was staring at him, Will thought he just might burst. It took everything in him not to smile, but he did it anyway because looking into Mike's eyes just made him feel so happy that he couldn't help it.

Mike lets out a small laugh, resting his forehead against Will's, all of that tension from moments ago finally starting to slip away. Will chuckles and snorts a little bit, one of Mike's hands finding its way to cup Will's cheek, the other still planted firmly on the dresser, his fingers holding the edge of the letter in place.

"All this time I thought that you were just being weird about your best friend dating your sister," Mike says, and that causes Will to laugh even more, his eyes crinkling shut as his head falls against Mike's chest.

"What? If that was the case then we should've been fine ages ago."

"Not when I was as scared as I was about you finding out– about anyone finding out."

"I know the feeling," Will says, looking Mike in the eyes once again.

"At least now we know."

Mike leaves a soft kiss on the tip of Will's nose before his arms snake under Will's, pulling him into a hug. They haven't hugged since Will moved to Cali, and that was three years ago now. Three whole years without them having really touched each other at all. The closest thing they'd gotten to their usual comfortability was Mike placing his hand on Will's shoulder once he'd found out that Vecna was still alive, and that he was still a threat. That the Mind Flayer was back, too, and that the two weren't going to stop until everyone was dead.

Will rests his head on Mike's shoulder, the two of them holding each other so gently and yet so tightly at the same time. Will feels warm and fuzzy, like he's on the top of the world. He had been right after all about Mike not having changed, he had just gone about how he dealt with his feelings differently, and Will was glad that he'd picked up on it, because he knows what it's like to be in Mike's position. The being scared of people knowing the truth about who you are and who love, but Will is glad that now he knows, because now he's not alone. Now neither of them are alone.

#byler #will byers/mike wheeler #mike wheeler/will byers #will byers #mike wheeler #heavy angst #angst and hurt/comfort #love letters #friends to lovers

[serendipitouswasteland]

Argyle's Van, Spring of 1986

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: byler pov: third person written: July 10, 2022 first published: July 11, 2022 word count: 2,675 - summary: Jonathan and Argyle have taken it upon themselves to give Mike and Will the best spring break ever— road trip style. The best part? They're doing it from the back of a surfer boy pizza van, where Mike gets a bright idea.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Argyle says, the van sputtering as him and Jonathan pushes it the rest of the way to the gas station.

"I told you that we should have brought stuff with!"

"Well that doesn't matter right now, because we don't have stuff, so now we have to wait here until we can get someone to help."

"From who? The cashier? It's past the middle of the night, Argyle!"

Will sits up slowly, the back of the van having been practically converted to a bed at this point with all of the pillows and blankets lying around. He rubs his eyes, looking at his watch. Sure enough, it's 12:43 A.M. Will yawns and stretches, his eyes travelling to Mike, who's digging through the glove box under the dash. Will watches as Mike with curious eyes, only being able to look at him this long because Mike's not looking back. After a moment, Mike comes to the back and sits down across from Will, his back against the door of the Van, Will's to the back of a seat. Then, Will looks at Mike's hands as he sets down an ashtray and pulls what Will knows is definitely a weed cigarette out of his pocket, along with a lighter.

"Mike! What are you—"

"Shhh! They said that they wanted us to have the best spring break ever, right? So let's have the best spring break ever!"

"You're not wrong, but do you really think we should be doing this when they're literally just outside?"

"First, they're inside the gas station calling for help. I just saw them walk in. Second, who said anything about we? This is for me."

"You weren't planning on sharing?" Will questions, knowing Mike all too well.

"No, I definitely was, but you still made an assumption. Like Max says: presumptuous," Mike says as he lights the cigarette, quickly placing it between his lips, breathing in, pulling it out, then blowing. "Wow! Jesus Christ!"

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Will says, taking it from him and doing the same, slight coughing at the end.

"Yes, Will. I have been high before. Only once, but still. That doesn't make me an idiot, and it's not like you're too crazy about it either."

"I'm not, but one step into Jonathan's room and you're a goner, I'm telling you."

"That's because they just don't smoke cigarettes, they get high from this," Mike says, holding up a bong.

"Put that down," Will says, handing the cigarette back to Mike after taking a second hit.

"Point is, how you get high makes all the difference."

Mike blows smoke into Will's face as he tries swatting it away, laughing at the action. Mike laughs with him, smiling, Will enjoying the quality time he's finally getting to spend with his best friend. Mike lowers the cigarette and sets it in the ashtray and looks at Will who's staring intensely at the floor. Will's not even sure why he currently finds the floor as fascinating as it is. It's so bland and boring, and yet Will feels like he's seen the greatest thing in the world. That is, until, he looks up when at Mike and starts speaking.

"Man, I am so high right now," Will says, shaking his head.

"And you were complaining that Jonathan smokes too much weed."

"It's different. I don't know."

"No, I get it. I get it. To be honest, I've had a rough year. You know I was the last person to leave your house after you left? I mean, all those years, gone. Just like that. I guess I didn't want to realize it, but...you know, I think this whole time I've been projecting my f—"

Mike is cut off by Argyle and Jonathan getting back in the van, finally having gotten it fixed after...a shocking 42 minutes. Will thought it would have taken longer.

They quickly get on the road again, Mike hiding the ashtray out of the sight of the rearview mirror. They drive for a while before coming to a flat empty spot near a canyon, the sky clear. Jonathan and Argyle grab a tent out of the back of the van, going and setting it up a bit of a ways from the cliff's edge, and not too close to the van, either, as to give Mike and Will some personal space.

Will hops out, grabbing his pajamas that he'd brought with and going to the side of the van that wasn't on the side as the tent, Mike changing into his own pajamas inside. Mike slides open the door when he's done, and Will quickly hops inside, rubbing his arms to try and warm him up from the cold air of the March night.

"Sorry," Mike says quietly, quickly grabbing the ashtray and relighting the cigarette, both of them still completely out of it.

"It's fine," Will says, stretching his jaw.

He looks at Mike in his pajamas. Just a sweatsuit, yes, but it's Mike's hair that really gets him. Will noticed it the second he saw him, but he was too scared to say anything, worried that it might come off the wrong way, but right now he can't seem to stop himself from talking.

"Have I told you yet that I like the new look? With your hair, I mean. The long curls. It's nice," Will says after Mike hands him the cigarette, taking a hit after his initial question and then again after he finished his full thought, his heart beating so fast now that him and Mike are actually alone.

"Thanks."

It's quiet for a minute, soon them both bursting into laughter about literally everything. The color of the floor of the van, a random word that Will has said, and the two just can't stop laughing, but eventually, they do dile it down some after they remember that, although not in the van with them, Argyle and Jonathan aren't too far away. They stare at each other for a moment before Will looks away. He doesn't want Mike to know what exactly is going through his mind, all of the things he's thought in their time apart. If he looked at Mike any longer he'd let something slip.

Mike and Will are sitting crisscrossed facing each other, the ashtray sitting on the bench. Will has been poking at Mike's face for some time now, tracing over each of his freckles, pulling at his nose, his knuckles brushing against Mike's eyelashes. He's trying to figure out how Mike's face has changed so much. When he gives up on that, Mike says something, and it catches Will completely off-guard.

"I'm gay," Mike breathes out, and Will shoots his head to look at him.

"What?" Will asks, his eyes going wide and his heart starting to beat really fast.

"I am so high right now, but I am also so, so gay."

"Mike—"

"No. I like guys, Will. Maybe I like girls too, I don't know. I'm still trying to figure that part out, but I do know that I definitely like guys. A lot."

Mike is rambling, it's clear, even if it's not like his usual rambling because he's high, but Will knows when Mike is rambling, and right now he's just sitting there staring. Even as Mike looks at him with a questioning look, asking Will if he should go on and normally Will would say yes or something, but right now he can't. Not with the words that Mike initially said still ringing in his head. I'm gay. Did he hear that right, or is it the weed? Is anything of this really, actually happening?

"Like, a lot a lot," Mike continues, and Will knows that, now, at this point, there's no stopping him. "And I have been projecting for years, I think, how I feel about you onto El because I didn't want to believe that I could like guys, but I do. That's why I broke up with her...or she broke up with me...or...actually, I'm not sure. I don't know who broke up with who, maybe it was mutual, but it was because even though I did and still do love her, it wasn't like that. I loved you like that. I do love you like that. I am in love with you.

"Wow. That feels so good to say. I did say it, right? Huh. It's funny. I always thought, somewhere, deep inside, that you'd be the one to say it first. That you would tell me how you felt long before I was even able to admit to myself the feelings I have, but it looks like I was wrong. Sorry, by the way. For just blurting it out, you know? It's, like, what is wrong with me? I don't know, I mean..." Mike continues to ramble, laughing a bit here and there.

Will, on the other hand, doesn't say a word. He's listening so intently and yet not listening at all. His mind is in two places at once. On one side, Will is listening to what Mike has to say, thinking about it way too hard, and on the other he's still caught on the first thing that Mike had said, and he's still going. So then, Will cuts him off with the only thing he knows will get him to stop, and the words he says aren't just to get him to stop, because Will has wanted to say them for far too long now to hold them in any longer.

"I love you."

"I know."

"No, I mean, I love you."

"I know," Mike says, giving Will a look that could only be described as love.

He puts a hand on Will's cheek and pulls him close, their eyelashes skimming against each other's skin. Their noses brush up against each other as their breath hits each other's faces. Will's heart is beating a million miles a minute and he can feel his throat closing up at just how close him and Mike are, his face a bright shade of red. Part of him has been waiting for this moment for years, but he never thought that it would actually ever happen, because it's Mike. His best friend. The one person outside of his family that he's known longer than anyone, and now their lips were centimeters apart. Then Mike plants a soft kiss on Will's lips, and though it's not what Will was expecting, it is everything to him, but it's short lived as Mike pulls back slowly just a second later.

"I know," Mike repeats, as if the kiss wasn't enough to get his point across about knowing just how much Will loves him, and knowing what exactly Will means when he stares it.

Will stares at him, his eyes wide before he pulls Mike back toward him and is the one to kiss him this time, wrapping his hands around Mike's neck, wanting to be as close as possible. He's been waiting for this moment, and now it's finally here and he'd be damned if he let it go to waste. Will's hands quickly find their way into Mike's hair, his fingers running through every curl. Mike keeps his one hand on Will's cheek, partially cupping his jaw, the other one on the floor to keep them sitting up and steady. The kiss is sloppy, sure, but it's everything that Will has ever wanted in a kiss from Mike, because the way that Mike is kissing him back makes Will feel wanted, needed.

After a few minutes their lips part briefly and Will is about to go back in and kiss him again, but Mike doesn't let him, pulling back just a bit and letting a chuckle escape his lips as he looks at Will with so much passion. He takes his thumb and runs his over Will's lips, and Will takes a big gulp, the butterflies in his stomach only getting worse, and he can't believe that he actually had the guts just now to kiss Mike Wheeler.

"Don't forget to breathe, babe," Mike whispers, but the way he says it? Will feels like he might pass out.

And then, with one last kiss on Will's cheek, Mike stands up puts the cigarette out in the ashtray, looking down at Will, a smile appearing on his face and a little bit of laughter escaping his lips. If Will could guess, he'd say he probably looks like a deer lost in headlights, because he's just staring at Mike, because up until now, he never really noticed just how tall Mike is. Will clears his throat, moving so he's sitting with his back to the seat again, leaning forward and messing with the ground, but Mike isn't having it.

Mike gets back down on the floor, crawling over to Will and laying on his back, looking up at him with a sly smile. He places a hand on the back of Will's neck, pulling him down and kissing him once again, and despite it already having happened twice, Will still can't believe that it's happening. It's a short kiss, and it's slow, and when Mike lets go he has the same smile on his face that he had before, and that's when Will realizes that Mike is teasing him. Will's flustered face only gets more flushed, and he looks away from Mike, lifting his head up and looking to the side. Mike sits up then, grabbing Will's face in his fingers by his jaw, turning him to look at him. Their eyes meet, and Will can't look away anymore. He's completely encapsulated by the look that Mike is giving him.

Mike pulls Will's face toward him, kissing him open-mouthed and rough, and that's how Will knows that it's not just the weed anymore, because he knows Mike, and so he knows that Mike has never kissed anyone like this before. Will's hands find their way into Mike's curls once again, something he's quickly become obsessed with. He pulls at the hair at the nape of Mike's neck, leading to Mike beginning to leave a trail of kisses along Will's jaw to the spot just under under his ear. Will leans his head against the back of the seat, wanting desperately for his lips to be back on Mike's again, but loving what Mike is doing far too much for him to say anything.

"I'm not gonna wake them up. Don't worry, man," a voice says, and then the trunk of the van is opened.

Mike quickly stops what he's doing, his lips pulling off of Will's skin as his head falls embarrassingly into Will's neck, an attempt at hiding from who's just interrupted their moment. Will, glances down at Mike before looking back at Argyle, trying to think of something to say that would explain why they were sitting in those positions and why Mike was so engrossed in Will's neck, of all things, because it wasn't normal for best friends to be doing what they were doing. But they weren't just best friends anymore, were they? They couldn't possibly be. Not after that.

"Nice," Argyle says, climbing into the van and grabbing his bong.

"W–what?" Will asks, confusion washing over him.

"Little Byers has finally found himself a lover," Argyle says, hopping out of the van and closing the trunk.

Once he's sure Argyle is gone, Will lifts up Mike's head, to which Mike raises an eyebrow, clear that he was barely even listening to a thing that was just said. Will bursts into laughter, tackling Mike to the floor of the van and rolling over onto his back. Mike laughs, too, Will's laughter being that contagious that, if you heard a single second of it, you'd be laughing too.

"What?" Mike asks, still unbelievably confused, and still laughing.

"How is he always stoned?"

And once again, they're laughing like maniacs, both of them quickly having forgotten that anything even happened.

#byler #will byers/mike wheeler #mike wheeler/will byers #will byers #mike wheeler #argyle #argyle stranger things #mike wheeler loves will byers #will byers loves mike wheeler #romance #eventual romance #teen romance #awkward romance #teenagers #love confessions #boys in love #first love #declarations of love #not actually unrequited love #requited unrequited love #requited love #friends to lovers #childhood friends #best friends #male friendship #alternate universe

[serendipitouswasteland]

Let Go and I'll Hold You Up

ship: buddie pov: third person written: April 3-6, 2023 first published: April 6, 2023 word count: 4,859 - summary: Buck helping Eddie dry and brush his hair after a shower...or something like that. - A/N: I imagine this being set after the call in 6x18 that results in all of them covered in dust...if you've seen the bts photos you know what I'm talking about. Have fun and enjoy. <3

Eddie had gotten hurt. Yes, they knew the amount of risk they were taking of either one of them simply living through what happened to be done, but they had a job to do. More importantly, they had each other. They knew that they’d get out. What they didn’t anticipate, however, was one of them getting severely hurt or injured– but Eddie did. Eddie got hurt. Buck isn’t exactly sure what went wrong. He was fine. Eddie was fine. Then he got hurt, and he wasn’t fine, and Buck—

Buck turns his focus back to Eddie, who’s slouched against the tile wall of his shower, wearing only a pair of basketball shorts. Eddie, who has cuts and bruises all over, eyes half-lidded as he tries to stay awake. Eddie, who has dirt and blood being washed away by the water pelting his skin as Buck stands in a tank top and cargo shorts outside of the shower, curtain open, making sure he gets clean properly, because Eddie is hurt. So much so, in fact, that he can’t shower by himself.

“Buck.”

It’s only a murmur, barely audible with the minimal movement from Eddie’s mouth, but it’s there. It’s there, and Eddie lifts his arm that’s not broken as much as he can– but dammit, Eddie’s arm got dislocated, so he has to be careful, and he can barely move it as is, so the next thing Buck knows he’s stepping into the shower with Eddie, pushing his arm down and hoisting Eddie up in his arms.

He’s heavy. Eddie isn’t much shorter than Buck, but he has muscles. Lots and lots of muscles, and that makes him heavy. Buck is strong, sure. He can lift a lot of things that many people can’t, but Eddie– maybe it’s the crushing weight of knowing that Eddie isn’t supporting himself at all, that it’s his dead weight falling against Buck’s chest, or maybe it’s the thought of knowing that he shouldn’t be in this position. He and Eddie aren’t supposed to share moments like this. They’re partners in work, sure, but they’re merely friends in life. Nothing more.

“Buck,” Eddie murmurs again, this time slightly more audible, his lips pulling against Buck’s skin as he speaks. This shouldn’t be happening. They’re just friends. Eddie’s lips shouldn’t be on Buck’s skin.

“I got you, Eds. I’m here. I got you,” is what Buck says in response as he manages to get Eddie standing upright under the stream of water so his hair gets wet.

“Buck,” Eddie says once more, and it is driving Buck mad at the desperation coming from Eddie’s voice, throat sore from his yelling and screaming and shouting during their shift and as Buck rescued him and on his way to the hospital and—

“What, Eddie?” Buck says, slightly snappy, his inner annoyance at himself coming out just a bit. He takes it back immediately. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I—”

“Thank you,” Eddie says, the clearest his voice has been since he woke up post-surgery.

Buck doesn’t respond. He simply keeps one arm wrapped around Eddie as he grabs the shampoo (and if Buck notices that it’s the same one he has at his own house, he doesn’t say anything). He puts a decent amount and leans Eddie against the tile wall again, carding his fingers through Eddie’s hair.

Their faces are close. Too close. If they weren’t just friends Buck might lean in and give him a kiss. He wants to give Eddie a kiss. It’s not a new realization, something he’s been thinking for a while now. He’s known since poker. Eddie was happy that night. He wasn’t hurt. He was fine. He was okay. He was smiling, and laughing, and he was out with Buck and he was having fun. Was it a date? Buck doesn’t know. He just knows that’s when he realized a simple truth he should’ve realized ages ago: Buck is in love with Eddie, wholly and completely. Not just Eddie, but all of the baggage that comes with him. His trauma. His good memories. His job. His family– Chris. In a way, Buck thinks, he already has all of that. He just doesn’t have Eddie. Not really. Not in the ways that make him a life partner.

“I need you to try and tilt your head back, okay?” Buck says as he moves Eddie under the showerhead once again. “I’ll try and block your eyes with my hand, but I need you to– there. There you go. Just like that.”

Eddie isn’t just hurt. He’s hurting. He is actively in a state of pain. Buck sees it in Eddie’s eyes as he tilts his head back as much as he can, his eyes tightening shut, jaw clenching– he doesn’t let out any noise, but Buck knows that face, and so he knows that Eddie is hurting, and he knows that Eddie is in pain. Buck grabs the conditioner as the water runs through Eddie’s hair (once again deciding not to focus on the brand at this current moment), moving Eddie to be against the tile wall again.

Buck is exhausted. He’s had a long day, and he got away with only a few cuts and bruises, but he’s the one who saved Eddie. He’s the one who was stumbling backwards until he fell, dragging Eddie with him, not stopping until they were both in a safe space. He hasn’t had a break. He rode with Eddie to the hospital. He got fixed up then went right to the waiting room and paced back and forth for every single second of every hour that Eddie was in the operating room. He was never worried that Eddie wouldn’t make it. That wasn’t it. He just wasn’t sure the state Eddie would be in once he came out.

Then he was out of surgery, and Buck was the first one in his hospital room, and Carla was getting Christopher from school, and the doctor’s explained everything to Buck in great detail about the after-care from Eddie’s injuries, and Buck just– Eddie didn’t stop them. Eddie was awake when the doctor’s were telling Buck how he’d need to care for Eddie after, and he didn’t say anything. He was completely silent, just listening to his doctor’s. He had no objections to Buck being the one to take care of him while he was in recovery. He just…let it happen, even if that wasn’t his set plan. So Buck brought Eddie home, and he let Christopher see him for a bit before sending him to his room so Buck could finally get Eddie into a shower.

Buck quickly slicks up Eddie’s hair with the conditioner, pausing when he realizes what’s next. He’d be washing Eddie’s body. It was something so intimate, and something that he shouldn’t be doing because they’re just friends, but it’s the doctor’s orders and Eddie hasn’t said anything against it yet, so Buck has to, and it’s– Buck grabs the loof hanging from the shower handle, quickly coating it in body wash (and if noticed, too, that it’s the same brand as his own, he pays no mind, for Eddie is more important). He soaks it under the water for longer than he should, requiring him to add more body wash, and then he turns to Eddie. He hesitates for a moment, thinking this through before placing the loofa against Eddie’s chest, simply letting it rest there for a moment.

“You know how…to wash your body…right?” Eddie says, taking a breath between every few words. Buck wants to cry. He wants to pull Eddie in and simply cry.

“Yeah,” Buck breathes, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. He can’t. Not when they’re in a situation like this.

Buck moves the loofa down, swallowing as he watches his hand go with. He steals a glance up at Eddie who has his eyes shut gently. Buck sighs, as he reaches where Eddie’s broken arm rests against his stomach. He moves it away slightly, and this time Eddie does wince. Buck pauses, waiting for Eddie to nod before pulling his arm out the rest of the way he needs to in order to continue washing Eddie’s torso, and—”

“Gah!” Eddie shouts, and the pain is real, and it is piercing, and— “Dad?” Buck hears coming from the hall, and he doesn’t know what to do. If he lets go of Eddie’s arm they’re going to have to move it again, and that’s not something Buck wants to have happen again, because the thought of Eddie in pain is too much, but— “Dad? Are you okay?”

“Yeah– hang on,” Buck says, hanging the loofa from Eddie’s finger before leaving the bathroom and meeting Christopher just outside the bathroom door. “Hey, buddy.”

“Is Dad okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, your Dad is fine, he’s just– listen, buddy, Dad is really really hurt right now. That means that I have to help him shower, because he can’t do it by himself, and sometimes when a certain part of him moves, he’s going to sound like he’s getting hurt, but he’s not. I promise. He’s going to be just fine.”

“Okay,” Chris says, sighing, but not leaving his spot.

“Hey, what do you say I ask Mrs. Hen and Mrs. Karen if you can go see Denny? I’m sure you’d both have a blast.”

“Okay,” Chris says again, and this time he leaves.

“Hey, Chris?” Buck calls before he gets too far. “Why don’t you pack a bag? You know, just in case you end up spending the night.”

“Okay,” Chris says for a third time, this time coming out as a sigh. The single word makes Buck’s heart ache, but he can’t focus too much on that right now. He’d have to save the thought for later after both he and Eddie get some proper sleep.

Buck pulls out his phone, calling Hen as he goes back to the shower. He grabs the loofa from Eddie’s finger, going straight back to work. The call picks up, and Buck smiles out of relief when he hears Hen’s voice come through the other end.

“Buck? What are– is Eddie alright?” She asks, her initial concern saying his name fading a bit.

“Yeah, no, everything’s—” fine. The word hangs in the air, on the tip of Buck’s tongue, but as he pulls Eddie’s arm away from him again, and Eddie lets out another pain-filled scream, Buck knows that would be a lie. “—Look, um, Hen, I can’t have Chris here right now. It’s– he doesn’t need to– Eddie– can you come pick him up? I don’t know yet if it would just be for a few hours or overnight, but I’m having him pack a bag just in case, and—”

“Yeah,” Hen says, cutting Buck off, and that sigh of relief returns, a small smile along with it. “I’ll be over there as soon as I can…is Eddie alright with this?”

“Fine,” Eddie mumbles as Buck scrubs his legs.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, he’s ‘fine’ with it. His words, by the way– or, word, I guess, because…I’ll see you in a bit?”

“Like I said, as soon as I can.”

Buck hangs up after that, doing his best not to drop his phone in the water as he tucks it back into his shorts. He keeps scrubbing Eddie’s body, leaving his legs and going to his arms, letting the soap soak into his skin so it can really collect all of the germs lingering on him. Eddie looks down, then to Buck, and back down again, and Buck realizes he forgot Eddie’s feet. He grabs Eddie in his arms once again, setting him on the Edge of the tub as he crouches down, taking one of Eddie’s feet into his hands at a time, scrubbing them clean. As he does so, Eddie plays with his hair and face, carding his finger through Buck’s curls or poking at his cheeks and nose.

“Eddie– Eds,” Buck says at some point, and Eddie stops moving but leaves his hands where they are. “I can’t see with your hands all in my face, and I really need to get you cleaned.”

Buck’s voice is broken. It’s there, but it’s broken, and he’s choked up, and every word that comes out is a request, a beg, a plea. There’s a knock at the door, so Buck hands the loofa to Eddie, telling him to try and finish his feet while he goes and answers. As he leaves, he can hear Eddie’s grunts and groans, and the wincing, but he ignores it. He has to. There’s other tasks he has to take care of. Buck answers the door, breaking into a smile at the sight of Hen and falling into her arms.

“Oh, thank god you’re here,” Buck says, pulling away when he hears a yelp from the bathroom. “Eddie– he’s in a lot of pain, and he’s—”

A yell cuts Buck off, and he looks at the floor, only for Hen to put her hand on his shoulder a moment later, and he looks at her, the two making eye contact.

“It’s okay, Buck. It’s not your fault, either.”

“Tell that to him,” Buck says, and Hen’s face contorts into a cross between worry and confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s– I know that—” It takes Buck a second to collect himself and get his thoughts in order. “It doesn’t matter that I’m the one helping him in his aftercare. I was supposed to have his back, and I didn’t. He knows it. I can feel it. It’s the other shoe, Hen. I mean, it’s like he’s trying to hide his injuries from me, as if I fucking didn’t– as if I’m not the one who pulled him out!”

“Buck, if there’s one thing I know it is that Eddie does not blame you. After the lawsuit, I don’t think he could ever bring himself to blame you again.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, shrugging, his way of saying maybe you’re right. “Christopher! Hen is here!”

Buck waits. Chris doesn’t say anything. He’s half tempted to march down the hall and into his room, but he doesn’t. That’s not his role. Then, a moment later, the familiar sound of Chris’s crutches comes from down the hall, and Buck forces on a smile. Upon seeing Chris, Buck pulls him right into a hug, kissing him on the top of the head before he lets him go, just like he’s seen Eddie do hundreds of times.

“I’ll call you if anything happens,” is all Hen says more before she leaves, and then it’s just Buck and Eddie in Eddie’s house as Eddie screams out of pain into the air.

Buck goes back to the bathroom, finding Eddie slumped against the tile wall while still sitting on the edge of the tub, loofa on the floor. Eddie is giving him a scornful look that doesn’t disappear even as Buck helps Eddie up, putting him back beneath the showerhead, the water apparently having gone cold.

“Buck!” Eddie groans, and Buck would roll his eyes if the situation were any different.

“Hey, it’s alright. I can fix it,” Buck says, turning the shower handle to make the water warmer, smiling as he can feel Eddie’s body become less tense. “Better?”

“Whatever.”

“Well I whatever your whatever, so,” Buck says, only receiving a grunt in response.

Buck works the water through Eddie’s hair, allowing it to wash the soap off of his body as he does so. When he’s sure that Eddie is completely clean, Buck shuts off the water, quickly grabbing a towel and wrapping it around Eddie’s shoulders. He moves Eddie to be sitting on the closed toilet lid, telling him that he’ll be right back. He shuffles through Eddie’s drawers before finding a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that he’s 90% sure are his own, deciding that they’ll have to do before setting them on the counter next to Eddie.

“Alright, Eds. We’ve got to get you dried off and dressed.”

“You…too,” Eddie says, and only then does Buck look down at his clothes and then himself in the mirror. He sighs, eyeing the way his hair is plastered to his face and the way the clothes of Eddie’s he’d borrowed are sticking to his skin.

“Yeah. Me too,” Buck says, turning back to Eddie. “You think you can change into the sweats one-handed?”

Eddie nods, so Buck doesn’t say anything else. He leaves the bathroom, leaving the door slightly cracked, but not to where anyone could see through– as if that was a problem they’d be having– before going back to Eddie’s room, digging through his drawers once more. He doesn’t find any bottoms for himself, so he assumes his slightly damp underwear that he has on will have to do. He then goes through Eddie’s closet, pulling out an LAFD shirt and slipping it on. This would have to do. Buck goes back to the bathroom, knocking on the door before entering, Eddie sitting on the floor the pair of sweats caught on one of his heels. Buck fixes it for him, helping him back up to be sitting on the toilet seat again.

“Cute,” Eddie whispers, pointing at Buck’s shirt.

“What?” Buck asks, tilting his head as he grabs the maroon shirt he’d picked up for Eddie, trying to figure out how he’d get it on Eddie.

“Name,” Eddie mumbles, not giving Buck much to work with, but he figures it out.

“Ah. Your name is on the shirt, and I’m wearing it,” Buck says, and Eddie nods, swallowing, and Buck really just wishes Eddie were okay.

Buck eventually gets the shirt on Eddie, only for him to then complain that his feet are cold, leading Buck to have to retrieve a pair of socks and help Eddie put those on too. He then grabs the first aid supplies the hospital gave him for the few cuts and bruises on Eddie’s face. Buck cleans them in silence, neither he nor Eddie saying a word. It’s when Buck pulls out Eddie’s blow dryer that he gets his first response in a while, and Buck laughs, carding a hand through Eddie’s wet hair.

“I can’t tell if you’re groaning because you’re hurt or because you’re sleepy anymore,” Buck says, and Eddie groans again, making Buck laugh more. “I am sorry, Eds. I– I know that you probably don’t want to hear that. At least not right now, but– I am. I don’t want you saying anything, though. Not until we’ve both gotten some sleep.”

Buck turns on the blow dryer, and Eddie groans one last time before the only sound filling the room is the motor inside the hair dryer pushing the hot air out of it. He doesn’t dry Eddie’s hair all the way, only mostly, not wanting to cause heat damage. Then he helps Eddie up and leads him to his room, avoiding any thoughts that come from Eddie leaning against him. Buck gets Eddie into bed, covering him up in a blanket. He’s about to leave the room to sleep on the couch when Eddie tugs at his shirt, grabbing Buck’s hand when he’s close enough.

“Stay,” Eddie says– no, requests– and Buck simply can’t say no, so he crawls into bed next to Eddie, and within moments they both fall asleep.

At least twelve hours later, Buck wakes up to the sun beaming through Eddie’s bedroom window. He wants to attempt to fall back asleep at first, but then he hears his phone buzzing on the nightstand, so he can’t. Buck grabs his phone, answering the call without looking at the caller ID when he notices Eddie isn’t in bed next to him. Under normal circumstances, he would be sad about it, because it meant that they still weren’t together, but now it sent him into a panic because these aren’t normal circumstances and– the kitchen. Buck can smell coffee, which means that Eddie is in the kitchen.

“Buck?” The voice through the phone calls, and Buck refocuses on them, grimacing a little.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Karen and I are taking Denny and Chris to the zoo, and then we’ll be by after lunch to drop Chris off. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Buck says, blinking a few times as he climbs out of bed– Eddie’s bed.

“You okay? You don’t sound too good,” Hen comments, and Buck chuckles a little.

“Yeah, I’m just– Eddie is making breakfast in his kitchen while I’m sitting here in his bed. I…I always imagined it happening the other way around.”

“Well, I think that after the night you’ve had, you just might get your wish. I’ll see you in a few?”

“Yeah, see you in a few. Bye, Hen.”

“Bye, Buck.”

Buck hangs up the phone, setting it on his– Eddie’s– nightstand before making the bed. Eddie’s bed, Buck reminds himself, leaving Eddie’s room after to go to the kitchen. He finds Eddie finishing scraping some scrambled eggs onto two separate plates, each containing two pieces of toast. Buck smiles, rubbing Eddie’s back absentmindedly as he passes to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Goodmorning,” Eddie says, voice hoarse and slightly lower than usual, but it’s there and steady, which is better than last night, which makes Buck smile. “Goodmorning,” Buck says as cheerfully as he can, grogginess in his voice that he catches Eddie smiling at.

“I hope the food is good. I did my best, but it wasn’t easy.”

“No offense, Eds, but you’re not exactly the best cook in the first place,” Buck jokes, and Eddie laughs, big and loud, before falling into a coughing fit. “Hey, hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck knows it’s true, but he can’t help worrying. “My throat hurts, but I’m fine.”

The two sit down at the table, Buck explaining to Eddie where Chris is and when he’d be coming home, Eddie nodding the whole time, humming in understanding. Buck also runs over the doctor’s orders in perfect detail, Eddie giving him the same response as before. Then, a comforting silence falls over them, both of them completely content. Buck finishes his food, and it’s then that Eddie breaks the silence, taking one of his last few bites.

“I could get used to this,” he says, and Buck furrows his brows as he throws away his paper plate and puts his fork in the sink.

“What do you mean?” Buck asks, picking up Eddie’s dishes as he finishes.

“This,” Eddie says, motioning his previously dislocated arm between them and the table, and then the window as the warm morning sun beams through it. “I could get used to waking up with you in my bed and sharing breakfast with you in the morning. I could get used to having you around all the time…like a partner.”

Buck is glad the plate he’s holding isn’t glass, because otherwise he would have dropped it on the floor and it would have shattered. Quickly, Buck shoves the plate into the trash and sets the fork in the sink as gently as he can, Eddie’s words running over and over in his head. I could get used to waking up with you in my bed. Buck shakes his head, turning to look at Eddie. He’s being serious.

“Eddie—”

“Look, Buck, you don’t have to say anything. Not right now, anyway. Just say something before I don’t…I don’t need you here anymore,” Eddie says, the word ‘need’ coming out more jagged than it should.

“You don’t mean that,” Buck says, and Eddie tries clearing his throat, but it doesn’t work out too well.

“Which part?” Eddie asks, and Buck scoffs.

“You know which part, Eddie.”

“Enlighten me,” Eddie says, and Buck shakes his head.

“You no longer needing me. It’s complete bullshit!”

“How so?”

“Eddie, I’m the person you go to for all the shit you don’t talk to Frank about! I’m the one you call first when Carla isn’t available and you have shit going on! Hell, sometimes you call me first! You think I don’t notice that? God, it’d be a hell of a lot easier for you to just admit that you’re in love with me!” Buck shouts, and Eddie blinks, tilting his head.

“That’s kind of self-conceited, don’t ya think?” Eddie asks, and Buck clenches his jaw, because Eddie knows he didn’t mean it like that, but he’s taking it like that anyway.

“Eddie—”

“It’s a good look on you,” Eddie adds, a smug smile growing on his face. “It’s much better than your self-deprecating ways. Those are over now, right?”

“Yeah, Eddie, but listen, I—”

“What?” Eddie asks, and Buck knows he didn’t mean it to sound so mean, so he shakes it off, taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to the couch.

“What happens if I say yes?”

“To what?”

“Eddie…” Buck groans, half a plea, but Eddie doesn’t say anything, looking at him with a wondrous look. “…to being…your partner.”

“That depends. Are you saying yes?” Eddie asks, and Buck is sure the look he’s reading behind Eddie’s confident yet soft gaze is one of fear, making Buck’s heart ache.

“Yes,” Buck says, putting as much force and heart into the word that he can, wanting for Eddie to believe him. He needs Eddie to feel it. “God, Eds, I―”

“I’m in love with you,” Eddie cuts off Buck from his own confession, hand coming up to cup Buck’s face. “God, I have been for so long. I didn’t realize it until poker, but– Buck, I want to spend the rest of my goddamn life with you.”

“Me too,” Buck musters, leaning forward to press his lips to Eddie’s. For a moment he forgets that Eddie has a broken arm, expecting his other to reach for his face too, but he doesn’t, and Buck— “This is a terrible first kiss.”

Eddie pulls back, blinking as he looks at Buck, tilting his head. Buck opens his mouth to apologize, but Eddie just laughs, head falling against Buck’s chest. Then Buck is laughing too, wrapping his arms around Eddie as he runs a hand up and down his back, trying to get the both of them to calm down. It works eventually, Eddie stifling his laugh and sitting up right, Buck’s own fading.

“That bad, huh?” Eddie asks, and it takes everything in Buck not to laugh again.

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“Well, I guess I will just have to kiss you properly the second I get this cast off.”

“Mmm,” Buck hums, bringing his face near Eddie’s again. “Sounds lovely.”

“Not to brag, but I’ve been told I am a very good kisser,” Eddie says, making Buck snort. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“No offense, Eddie, but you’ve been with, like, two women in your entire life. I don’t think that’s enough to garner whether you’re a good kisser or not.”

“And your one night stands are?” Eddie hums, leaving a small peck on Buck’s lips.

“Hey now, I never made any claims to be a good kisser,” Buck says and Eddie chuckles as he pulls back just a little. “I am, though. Or I like to think so. I’ve never had anyone complaining. You could call up Taylor and ask if you wanted to—”

“I think I’ll just take your word for it,” Eddie gripes, and Buck’s eyes go wide.

“I didn’t realize you had such a problem with my ex,” Buck says, running a hand through Eddie’s hair.

“Buck, everyone had a problem with Taylor. I simply have more reasons than the others to dislike her. After all, I’ve had her over for dinner. Let’s just say she wasn’t the best house guest. I mean, you ate before coming over too, but at least you still ate the food available here,” Eddie spits, not at Buck, and Buck finds it kind of amusing. “Also, she had you wrapped around her finger like you were some sort of sick puppy. Plus she made you get rid of your couch, which I liked, by the way. Her couch sucked.”

“How would you know that? You refused to sit on it,” Buck says, and Eddie is about to protest before snapping his mouth shut. “I love you, Eddie.”

“Hmph,” Eddie grumbles, turning away from Buck and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “What’s on TV?”

“Oh, so now you’re being grumpy again? It was cute when you were tired, Eddie, but not when you’re mad. Now it’s just sad—”

“Hey!” Eddie exclaims, and Buck laughs, grabbing the TV remote before sprawl out on the couch, head in Eddie’s lap as an arm wraps around his torso, the other pressing random buttons on the remote until he finds something semi-enjoyable to watch.

“I’m just messing,” Buck says, snuggling somehow closer to Eddie after finding something ‘just okay’ that neither of them will mind watching. “I really do love you, Eddie.”

“I love you too,” Eddie says, running his hand through Buck’s hair.Yeah, Buck thinks in his head, smiling to himself, I could get used to this too.

#buddie #evan buckley/eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #getting together #first kiss #hurt/comfort #taking care of him #injury #injuries #love confessions

[serendipitouswasteland]

The Hellfire Boy(friend)s

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: byler pov: third person first written: July 7, 2022 first published: July 10, 2022 word count: 1,850 - summary: Hellfire. A D&D club that the party joined the second they stepped into Hawkins High. Well, sort of. The dungeon master, Eddie Munson, saw them at lunch the first day and took them in under his wing. Now, it was like they were a part of something bigger and better than their basement games. Only one thing was different: Mike and Will don't have the same relationship that they used to.

Mike walks down the high school hallways, a bored look on his face. Then, suddenly, as if he came out of nowhere (which, he quite literally did), Will appears at his side, a big smile on his face. Mike laughs and shakes his head, his face quickly going back to its stern rest.

"Is that your project for social studies?" Mike asks, snapping the poster board toward himself as if it were a tank top strap.

"Y-yeah. It's Alan Turing. He's a—"

"Engineer, right? You told me about him before, and Robin has mentioned him once. Said I might like him. I don't know. What do you think?"

"I think that there's definitely some similarities," Will says without giving too much away.

Mike looks at him with furrowed brows, but when he sees the face that Wil is making he lets out a breathy chuckle, smiling and shaking his head, throwing his arm around Will's neck and shoulders, ruffling up his hair and leaving his arm there afterwards.

"You are such a dork, you know that?" Miike asks, wanting nothing more than to kiss the top of Will's head.

"Yeah, I know. Are you excited for Hellfire tonight?"

"Of course I am," Mike says, stopping his walking and pulling Will into the janitor's closet with a smirk on his face. "Hi."

"Hi," Will says quietly, taking hold of Mike's hand.

Mike places one of his hands on Will's cheek, the other pressed against the door. He smiles and leans in, planting a kiss on Will's lips.

"Mike, we have to get to class," Will says after they pull away, his and Mike's fingers still intertwined.

"Maybe tonight, after Hellfire, you and I can go to the diner and get shakes?"

"Yeah. I'd like that."

"Okay. I love you," Mike says, leaving a kiss on Will's cheek.

"I love you too," Will responds sheepishly.

Mike telling Will he loves him will never get old or boring or tiring. Every single time Will's heart will stop and he'll struggle to say it back, and not because he doesn't mean it, but because he's truly in shock every time he hears Mike say it.

"Hey," Mike says, holding Will's face in his hands. "I really do love you, alright?"

"No, I know, it's just..."

Will trails off and Mike pulls him into a hug, his head resting on top of Will's as he leaves kisses there and stokes his back and hair.

"I never want you to question my love for you, okay? Because there is nothing in this world that could possibly change it or take it away. No matter what happens, I will always love you, okay? Always."

"Mike."

"What?"

"You're squishing me."

"Good," Mike says with a smile, hugging Will tighter before letting go. "Now we have a social studies class to get to."

"History."

"I'm pretty sure it's social studies."

Mike leaves the janitor's closet, Will waiting a few seconds before leaving behind him, quickly catching up to him and giving him a knowing look. They get to the door of their classroom and Mike is about to go in but stopes, stepping to the side and leaning down, motioning with his arm for Will to go in first. Will laughs loudly as he walks through the door, Mike right behind him and moving him to the side by his shoulders as he makes his way to his seat quickly, saying hi to some people on the way. Will watches with a fond smile before slowly making his way over, too. Other than science, this was their one class together, and like every time they've shared a class the two always sit together.

Will sets his presentation down next to him, terrified of having to talk about Alan Turing and why he's his hero. His reason he'd be giving everyone was a lie, but at least he and Mike new the truth. That was the only reason he was going to be able to get up and do it. Will gives Mike a nervous glance, and Mike leans over, resting his wrists on Will's desk.

"Hey, you're gonna do great. I mean, at least you have a presentation."

"I still don't get how you didn't do one. She gave us two months, Mike! Two months!"

"Yeah, well, I wasn't sure who to do because I don't know much about historic heroes. I mean, Eddie and El are my heroes. You know that. But a historical hero? Eh..."

"Mike, I—"

"Hi guys!" El says, sliding into her desk behind Mike's. 

"El! Mike shouts, pulling her head close and planting a kiss on her cheek.

Despite things having not worked out between the two of them, they're still really close and are true, genuine best friends. El laughs loudly, pushing Mike away and looking at Will. She motions to his poster board and he nods his head as he hands it to her. El takes it from him and looks over it excitedly.

"I love it, Will. You're gonna do great. I'm glad I got mine out fo the way already. What about you, Mike?"

"Michael didn't do his."

"What? Mike! We had two whole months to work on it! There is no excuse!"

"Well, there is one excuse," Will says, eyeing Mike.

"Okay, now that's just—"

Mike is cut off by Will's hand covering his mouth.

"Do not finish that sentence because I already know what you're going to say, and I mean..." Will glances around the room before leaning close and whispering, "...really, Mike?"

Mike pulls Will's hand away, glaring at him before letting out a deep sigh.

"Reason or not, my project isn't done and I don't plan on doing one. I'll just fail the assignment. So what? It's not that big of a deal."

"Not a big deal?" El and Will exclaim at the same time, looking to each other then back at Mike.

"Mike, you've really been worrying me lately," El says, taking his hand in her own. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," Mike says with a smile, but Will knows the truth.

Will opens up his bag and pulls out a small piece of paper and a pencil, quickly writing on it as the teacher begins class. Thankfully, he's not the one who's called on to present first. Will passes the sheet of paper to Mike, a worried look on his face. He knows that all of this hasn't been easy for him– for either of them– but he still wants to make sure that Mike is okay.

Mike reads over the piece of paper, running a hand over his face and setting the paper down on his desk. He doesn't even look at Will. Had he just made things worse? Will wants to reach out and grab Mike's hand and tell him that everything will be okay, but he can't. Instead, he gives Mike a smile and nudges him with his foot, letting him know that he's there and that he's not going anywhere. Mike nudges his foot back, and Will can see a small smile creep on his face– one that he only ever does for Will.

The first student presents and the teacher continues down each row until everyone is done, including Will. She calls Mike's name to go up and present, and Mike's face goes white. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to tell their teacher that he didn't do the project they had two months to work on. Will and El were right, there was no excuse.

"Michael?" The teacher calls again, and Mike slowly stands up and goes over to her desk, leaning down and whispering.

"I know that we had two months to do it, but I got preoccupied with...other things, and I totally forgot to do it."

"That is the third time this year, Michael. What is going on?"

"I don't know!"

"Is it your family? Your parents? Your friends?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's my friends. Going from middle school to high school has been weird. Hard. A lot of things are...different."

"Like what?"

"Everything?"

"You have two options. Take the F and fail the class or do a harder, alternative assignment."

"I'll gladly do the alternative."

"Okay. See me after class and we'll talk more."

Mike walks out of class with a piece of paper in his hands and a thoughtful look on his face. He lets one of his arms fall to his side, his hand brushing against Will's.

"What's the alternate assignment?"

"I have to write an essay about how history as well as my own past will impact my future."

"When's it due?"

"The end of the grading period. She said it has to be at least five pages."

"Wow. Wait, the grading period ends next Friday."

"I know."

"Do you know what you're going to write about?"

"No, Will, I just got the assignment," Mike groans frustratedly, his face changing from annoyance to apologetic quickly. "I'm sorry. It's just...If I don't know who I am, how am I supposed to write about who I want to be?"

"You'll figure it out. You always do."

Mike and Will enter the lunch room and Eddie immediately throws his arms around their shoulders, squeezing his way between them. Only then did the two realize how close they had been prior. Mike clears his throat, stuffing the paper into his pocket along with his hands.

"You boys ready for Hellfire tonight?"

"Oh yeah! I have some tricks up my sleeve that I think could really do the trick against some our enemies," Mike says.

"That's what I like to hear! What about you Byers? Ready to show of the powers of the cleric?"

"Yeah," Will mumbles, looking away from Mike around the lunch room.

He watches as the different people join their friends or how one couple will join another because they're all super close. It makes Will want to run right out of the room and cry. It was dramatic, sure, and he wasn't sad about it and he doesn't want anyone's pity. It was just...he wishes that was something he could do.

Will can hear Mike whisper to Eddie, and a moment later the long-haired man is at their lunch table like he'd never left. Mike and Will continue to make their way to the lunch table, but when Will goes to sit down Mike stops him.

"Will and I are gonna skip today. We're just not feeling the 'be around everyone' mood right now."

"Is everything okay?" Lucas asks, Dustin standing up ready to follow them.

"Everything's fine, we just need some time away from everyone else is all. See you at Hellfire tonight," Mike says, wrapping his arm around Will's shoulder and walking them out to a far out spot in the woods. No one would find them there, which meant they could be totally and entirely them.

Mike rests his back against a tree, pulling Will toward him and into a hug. Will has always been sensitive, and even though they're growing up a part of that would never go away. Sure, he'd get used to some things, so maybe he wasn't as sensitive, but the emotions that come with that stay with you forever. Most of the time you just get good at holding them in.

"I want to kiss you in front everyone like everyone else gets to," Will says, a tear falling down his face.

"I know."

"It's not fair."

"I know it's not, but we still have each other, alright?"

"That almost makes it harder. Being with you but not getting to be with you? I hate it, Mike. I hate it so much."

"Hey, it's gonna be alright, Will," Mike says, holding Will's face in his hands. "I don't know when or how, but I know that we'll be able to be us someday, and when that day comes just know that I will be telling everyone I know everything about you and just how much I love you, because Will, that's all I want– to love you– and no person can change how I feel about you. I mean, it's quite literally impossible."

"I just don't get how you can be so positive about everything when the reality is that we can't."

"I don't know. I think I like keeping you all to myself," Mike says, kissing Will's cheek, swaying with him in his arms.

"Mike," Will says as he tries not to laugh.

"Everything is going to be okay, Will. I know it. I promise."

"You can't make that kind of promise, Mike."

"Too late."

Will leans up and presses his lips to Mike's, his fingers twirling his curly hair. Mike lets his hands rest on Will's hips, pulling him close. Their lips part and Will rests his head against Mike's chest, his arms falling lazily around his neck.

They stay like that for the rest of lunch, neither one saying much other. The few things that they did say were mumbled "I love you"s and incoherent whispers that didn't all that much matter. The school bell rings and Mike lifts his head from laying on top of Will's looking out toward the school. He waits a moment before rubbing Will's back gently to let him know it was time to go. They'd been out there so long and it had been so peaceful and quiet that Will was able to fall asleep.

"Will? Lunch is over. It's time for class again."

Will stirs, his hands sliding down Mike's neck and wrapping around his waist.

"I love you, but we're not doing this."

Mike kisses the top of his head, gently pulling Will off of him and letting his arm fall around his shoulder again. Waking Will up was always the hardest thing to do.

"Five more minutes?"

"Sure, if you want to be late to class."

"No..." Will says, moving Mike's arm off his shoulder and interlocking their fingers. "...but it would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"It would. I do really love these moments with you, though. Even if they are bittersweet."

"At least no one suspects anything. I mean, with us having been friends for our whole lives and all."

"That is one plus, isn't it?"

The two slow their walking as they near the edge of the woods, their touch lingering as they pull their hands apart. Mike smiles softly, a strong urge to kiss Will right then and there sweeping through him, but he doesn't. People can see them. Instead, he makes a loud popping sound.

Flashback: Mike leans over to Will, their fingers centimeters away from each other as they sit at the circular corner booth in the diner waiting for everyone else to arrive. Mike messes with some of Will's hair, trying to make it look perfect, but with the haircut he has it's not too difficult. Will smiles at him, a questioning look on his face. The two have been...close, lately. Closer than usual. Neither of them really knows what it means yet or where it will go, but Will does know that he enjoys seeing Mike being this clingy. It's nice.

"I want to kiss you," Mike whispers in his ear, and Will's face goes bright red, a look of shock on his face.

"Mike, we're in public!" Will shouts in a wispy tone.

"Well obviously I don't mean right here."

"We've also only kissed, like, twice," Will says, his voice even quieter than before.

"So? That doesn't mean there won't be more...right?" Mike asks, a hopeful look on his face.

"No, you're right, it's just...later, okay?"

"What do you suggest I do until then?" Mike teases jokingly, and Will laughs before getting a serious look on his face.

Will searches Mike's eyes, trying to think of what he might want to hear. What words could calm Mike's scattered brain? Mike makes a popping sound, one that Will's noticed him do once or twice before, usually when he's bored in class or waiting in line for something, or even just being impatient about quite literally anything. 

"That," Will says, poking Mike's cheek.

"Hm? What? Oh, that? It's just a popping sound."

"Yeah, but you only every really do it when you're, like, really bored, and you do it repeatedly, so if you just do it once then I'll know what it means."

"Okay. Okay, yeah. Yeah, that'll work," Mike says excitedly, a large, cheesy grin appearing on his face.

Present: Mike smiles and puts his hands in his pockets, giving Will one last glance before looking at the grass as the two walk back inside.

Hellfire.

What started out as a thing between Eddie and his bandmates was now something that the party could be part of, too. No one had ever really understood the point of the game except for them, so it was nice to have finally found some people who really cared about it in the same way.

"Alright, boys! Get into your seats because tonight is going to be wild," Eddie says as he comes into the room and shuts the door, stopping in his tracks when he sees Will. "Young cleric, we have talked about this. If it was a full day campaign I would highly encourage the costume, but 'tis not."

"I like the costume," Mike says, a tight smile that he's used with Will plenty of times before appearing.

"Where's your Hellfire shirt?" Eddie asks, pulling Will aside.

"I'm wearing it under my costume," Will says with a shrug.

"Next time, wear that instead. We have an image to keep up, and purple sparkling wizards is not it."

"Leave him alone, Eddie," Lucas groans, leaning back in his seat.

"Sinclair how many times do I have to tell you to stop tipping the chair back? Jesus Christ, this is like babysitting a bunch of six year olds."

"They're freshmen, Eddie. They'll learn," Jeff says.

"Yes, freshmen," Eddie says, standing on top of his chair at the head of the table. "Like all freshmen, they must be put to the test. That is what will happen tonight as we continue our campaign against the Cult of Vecna."

As he says the last line, he plops into his chair with a grin. The campaign goes great (at least, it does for Mike, who somehow manages to sustain enough health to not 0 out, which, contrary to all other times, is quite surprising). They finish up the campaign for the evening and Mike is on top of the world. If you didn't know him, you just might think he's drunk from the way he's acting.

"Are we still going to the diner?" Mike asks Will in a hunched over whisper.

"That's the plan."

"Okay, good, because there's something I want to show you."

"Mike, you don't even have anything with you."

"It's not a thing it's a trick."

"Whatever you say, Michael."

"Hey, don't call me that!"

Will just rolls his eyes. He has no idea what's going on with Mike right now. Maybe it's the adrenaline talking, but he's being a lot.

Mike lazily throws his arm over Will's shoulder, pulling him close. Then, without a second thought, he kisses the top of Will's head, leaning down and kissing his cheek, too. He even stops walking and takes Will's hand, turning him to face him. Then, he does the one thing that he swore to Will he would never do when other people were around. Not unless they knew.

Mike cups Will's cheek and pulls him into a kiss, the short height difference needed Mike to lean down and Will to lift up his head at the sudden kiss (whereas normally Will would get on his tiptoes and stand on Mike's feet, because it wasn't a huge difference, but he didn't want to strain his neck), and because Will is so used to Mike's lips on his, he kisses back, not bothering to think that Lucas and Dustin are right there. Will even places his hand on Mike's jaw, slowly moving to the back of his neck as Mike dips him down, one of his hands now resting on Will's back.

"Mike?" Lucas questions, turning around.

It's clear that he was going to ask something, but that when he saw them he changed his mind. Dustin turns around too, his look of curiosity changing straight to confusion. Mike and Will quickly pull apart from each other, Mike practically throwing himself across the small walkway and into the brick wall. Will gives him a wide glance, about to rush over and make sure he's okay, but Mike shakes his head.

"Adrenaline rush. He's acting crazy," Will blurts out, clearly a lie.

"Yeah, I don't think an adrenaline rush constitutes kissing your best friend," Lucas scoffs, upset that he's being lied to, and Dustin rolls his eyes.

"Look, it's just...could you try and pretend that it didn't happen? Please? For Mike?" Will asks, and Lucas and Dustin give each other a side glance before looking back at Will, clear that they have more to say, but Will doesn't let them. "For me?"

And that's what does it. That's what always does it. Will knows that he shouldn't, but it's true that any of the people he knows would do anything for him, no matter what the situation, and he never does use them, but right now he doesn't feel like he has a choice.

Why not just tell us?" Dustin asks, throwing his arms to the side.

"It's fine, Dustin. Let's just forget about it."

"Why are you so cool all of a sudden?" Dustin asks, but when Lucas raises a brow, Dustin catches on to what he's getting at.

"Okay, now you're the ones not telling us something," Will says more cruel than he'd anticipated.

"Don't worry about it, Will. You and Mike can have your secret, and we have ours," Lucas says in a calm tone.

"Except it isn't exactly a secret now that you've seen it." Will is getting angrier by the second, and he knows it's visible when Mike rests a hand on his shoulder.

"Will, it's fine. They're right. They're our best friends. We should've said something."

"You do realize that you're the reason why we didn't, right? Because you were still figuring stuff out? And I mean, it's not like we would be telling the whole town! So really, this is all your fault."

"My fault? Will, it's not either of our faults and you know that. We just had a conversation about this earlier!"

"So you two didn't need time alone but just wanted to keep hiding stuff from us?" Lucas sneers.

"That's not true!" Mike yells, and the three of them keep going back and forth on what exactly the 'problem' is.

At some point, Will just stops arguing with Lucas all together and his focus goes solely to Mike, trying to understand why he even kissed him in the first place tonight. Every time, Lucas tries to get Will out of the argument, not wanting him to get hurt by Mike's words because he knows that it's a possibility (after overhearing the last bit of their fight last summer, he wasn't going to take any chances, even if the two were together now), and Mike feels like he's fighting five battles at once, he himself unsure of what exactly he's fighting for.

"Stop bickering!" Dustin shouts, his own frustration the worst out of all of them. "Lucas likes guys and girls. That's his big secret. Big! Deal! Mike and Will are clearly together or have feelings for each other or something. Who cares? We just had one of the best nights of the campaign so far, and you three want to argue over who you like? I mean, I can't believe you guys. You are such children sometimes!"

Will takes a step back from Mike and Lucas, folding his arms and looking away. He forgets how much he hates yelling until someone really yells like Dustin just did. In fact, he doesn't even realize the tears that form in his eyes when it does happen, or that he holds them back or how tight he clenches his fits and grits his teeth. A tear falls from Will's face and Dustin pushes both Mike and Lucas aside to give him a hug. Dustin and Will have always had an unspoken bond. One that, even if they weren't as close as the rest of the group, in many ways the two of them were the same, part of them always feeling left out or like they're on the outside, and they bonded over that.

Within a few seconds, another pair of arms wrap around Will and he looks over to find Lucas standing there, his head resting on his shoulder. With Lucas, Will had always been grateful. If it wasn't for him, the bullying he got from Troy would've been a lot worse. Lucas was the first friend (other than Mike) to stand up for him, and that's how they became friends, and then to find out that he was neighbors with Mike? It was perfect. It was like destiny.

Mike stares at Dustin and Lucas with their arms wrapped around Will. How was he supposed to hug him when Dustin and Lucas had their heads on both of Will's shoulders? Mike takes a few steps closer, and to his surprise, Will gently slips out of Dustin and Lucas's arms and falls right against Mike's chest, hugging him tightly. Then, Mike realizes something he hadn't before.

Yes, Will loves him, but it's more than that. Will practically idolizes him. Not in the way that Mike idolizes both Will and El (a problem in and of its own that he's been working on for a while), but rather in a heavenly light. Like he was an angel sent to protect Will from all things bad. It was as if, to Will, Mike was a shield. He always has been. He was his first friend, and thus the first person outside of his family to stick up for him and protect him. He was the most understanding with everything Will told him, the calmest and most caring. Mike wraps his arms around Will, Lucas and Dustin finding a way to fit in, too. Dustin was right. It doesn't matter who they like. They'll always all be best friends, no matter what.

A Few Days Later: "I have this friend. He's...well, we've known each other for a long time. Since kindergarten. My bond with him has always been special, but I didn't realize it until recently. He means more to me than any other person in the world. About a year after we met, we met this kid in our first grade class and he quickly became one of our best friends, and it made it even better that he was my neighbor– still is. A few more years went by, and in fourth grade we met someone else. He was a lot smarter and funnier than all of us, and he was exactly what we all needed– what was missing.

Then, it was my first friend that went missing. The first night I went out looking for him I met someone. A girl. She was amazing. I mean, superhero level amazing. But that's not all. She helped me find my friend, and she quickly became party of our party. Then she went missing, too. I called her on my walkie talkie every day for 353 days. That's almost an entire year. That same year that we hadn't talked, a new girl came into town. She was different from everyone else, and I was upset at first about my friends' admamance about her joining our party, but she's amazing nonetheless, and she's way more tough than any guy I've met, that's for sure. That was also the year that things went wrong again for my first friend. If it wasn't for the both of the girls I know and am friends with, my first friend wouldn't be here today, and I don't doubt that for a second, so I owe them my life.

The thing is, now we all have each other. Max, the new girl from summer. Jane, the girl I met in the woods in the middle of the night. Dustin, the smart guy who's always keeping us entertained. Lucas, my greatest brother that I never had...and my first friend.

That first friend that, despite everything, despite all of my bullshit– especially as of late– that has stuck by me through everything. That first friend that has been through so much and every single day I'm scared of losing him again. That first friend that I'm the first friend of, too, because we were both alone and scared and afraid on that fateful first day of kindergarten: Will.

I'm supposed to tie in history with all of this. History.

Well in history, who people have been friends with and who you like has often times had dire consequences. It's gotten them mistreated, misjudged, and murdered, and that still happens today. Granted, it's happened less and less as the years have gone on, but it does still happen, and it most likely always will.

That being said, I don't care. I don't care if people don't like me or my friends or they think that we're weird or rude or crazy or whatever!

You asked me how my past as well as history can shape my future. The answer is by not letting others get in the way of the friendships and the relationships that I hold closest to me, no matter how scary and hard that might be."

Mike peeks out from behind the piece of paper and looks at the party sitting on the couch in his basement. He's still not sure how all five of them managed to fit, but they did (and boy did they look ridiculous).

"So?" Mike asks, setting the paper down on the coffee table.

"It was amazing," Max says, probably the kindest thing she's ever said to or about him (not that they didn't get along, because they do, but more in a playfully manner).

"Yeah, I really liked the part about the boy you considered your brother. Thought that was a nice addition," Lucas jokes, and Mike and Max both just roll their eyes.

"I'm a little confused on some of the technicalities in there. I'm not really a smart guy, I'm just a little bit of a nerd," Dustin says sarcastically, and Mike snorts.

"You know, it wasn't just Max and I who saved Will," El says, glancing over at her brother sitting on the other end of the couch. "It was your idea to set the hub on fire, and it was you who knew that the Mind Flayer had taken over. It was you who saved him, Mike. You and Jonathan and Mom and Nancy and Max and Lucas and Dustin and Steve and Dad and I."

"Should I cut that part out then?" Mike asks, and he's never been this worried about an assignment in his life.

"No," Will says, standing up and wrapping an arm around Mike's waist. "It's perfect."

Mike lets his arm fall around Will's shoulder, just like he always does, kissing the top of his head. If there was one thing he knew about his future, it's that no matter what, Will would be in it, and that's all that he needed.

#byler #will byers/mike wheeler #mike wheeler/will byers #will byers #mike wheeler #inspired by fanart #el hopper #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #hellfire club #will byers loves mike wheeler #mike wheeler loves will byers #elmike #platonic mileven #love #idiots in love #boys in love #true love #dorks in love #requited love #romance #teen romance #angst and romance #romantic soulmates #romantic gestures #romantic angst #teenagers

[serendipitouswasteland]

Because it is Your Fault. It is All Your Fault.

Note: this was transcribed from my AO3.

ship: byler pov: third person written: July 5, 2022 first published: July 5, 2022 word count: 1,514

summary: Will has had enough. He just can't take it anymore. So when Mike says that thing, he finally snaps.

This summer has been...rough. All that Will has wanted is to play DnD with his friends, but they've all been too preoccupied with their girlfriends.

Girlfriends.

It's not that Will has anything against girls in particular. In fact, he loves girls. He thinks they're awesome. But...just...not like that. Not like Lucas and Dustin do. Not like Mike does.

Today, Will has come up with a plan. He woke up extra early and set up the DnD table in Mike's basement while he and Lucas were still asleep. Then, he got dressed in his Will the Wise costume and turned on the stereo, the adventure music filling the room, waking up Mike and Lucas just as he had planned. They've been playing for a short while now, and Will is having a blast, but he can tell Mike and Lucas aren't having the most fun with it all. Still, he keeps going. After all, they're in the middle of a campaign. It's not like they had anything else to do anyways with it raining.

"Do you guys hear that?" Will starts. "It sounds like...thunder. But no, wait, that's not thunder. It's...a horde of juju zombies! Sir Mike, your action!"

"What should I do?" Mike asks Lucas, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Attack?" Lucas questions, clearly not in the mood.

"Okay, I attack with my flail," Mike says, his voice monotone as he rolls the dice.

"Whoosh! You miss. Your flail clanks the stone, the zombie horde lumber towards you, and...the juju bites your arm. Flesh tears! Ah! Seven points of damage."

"Oh, no, my arm!" Mike says sarcastically. "Lucas, look my arm!"

The two snicker, and Will is hurt, but—

"Sir Lucas, the zombie horde roars! Do you fight back or do you run?"

Lucas is about to answer when the phone rings.

"No, it's a distraction!" Will says quickly, standing up, still in character. "A trap. Do not answer it!"

But, of course, Mike and Lucas dash to the phone, Mike grabbing it and the name coming out of his mouth stinging Will in the heart.

"El?" Mike asks, but his tone quickly changes, Will's face dropping. "No. Sorry, not interested. Telemarketers," Mike says and he hangs the phone back on the wall.

"Maybe we should just call them," Lucas suggests.

"We can do that?"

"I think so."

"Yeah, but, what would we say?"

"We will say nothing! The Kuishar tribe still needs your help," Will shouts.

"Alright, then," Mike starts, and that's when the worst thing happens. "I'll use my torch to set fire to the chambers, sacrificing ourselves, killing the jujus, and saving the Kuishar. We all live on as heroes in the memories of the Kalamar."

"Victory," Lucas says, holding his hand up to which Mike high-fives him.

Never has Will not wanted to play DnD.

That was, until now.

"Okay. Fine."

Will harshly sets his staff on the table, quickly ripping off his hat.

"You guys win."

He turns off the music.

"Congratulations."

"Will, I was just messing around," Mike says in that voice, and Will could slap him for it.

Will continues to remove his costume, his clothes from the day before underneath.

"Let's finish for real. How much longer is the campaign?"

"Just forget it, Mike," Will says as he gathers his things.

"No, we want to keep playing, right?"

"Y-yeah, totally," Lucas says, but Will can tell he doesn't mean it.

"We'll just call the girls afterward."

"I said forget it, Mike, okay? I'm going home," Will says, heading toward the stairs.

"But...come on, Will," Lucas says trying to stop him.

"Move!" Will yells, shoving Lucas out of the way and rushing up the stairs and to Mike's garage.

"Will, come on!" Mike says, following Will outside. "You can't leave, it's raining. Listen, I said I was sorry, alright? It's a cool campaign. It's really cool. We're just not in the mood right now."

"Yeah, Mike! That's the problem. You guys are never in the mood anymore! You're ruining our party."

"That's not true!"

"Really? Where's Dustin right now? See? You don't know and you don't care and obviously he doesn't either and I don't blame him! You're destroying everything and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?"

"El's not stupid! It's not my fault you don't like girls!"

Ouch.

Will, at first, is taken aback by Mike's words, but then, he's angry. So, so angry. So angry that he drops his bike and the tears he's been holding back start to flow from his eyes uncontrollably.

"Of course it's your fault! Are you kidding me? How could you have never once noticed? It's not that I don't like girls, Mike! Trust me, I've tried. I have tried so many times, but no matter who it is, no matter what the girl looks like or what her personality is like because for some reason that I wish I knew, believe me, my entire life I haven't been able to keep my mind off of you. So I'm sorry if me not having a girlfriend has become a 'problem' for you, but it is a hell of a lot harder when you wish you had a boyfriend who just so happens to be your straight best friend! I mean, did you ever even consider that?"

Will's words stop, still ringing in the air as he looks at Mike's face, and then he sees it. He sees that Mike is hurting, too. Guilt washes over Will, and the next words that slip out he shouldn't even be saying, but—

"I'm sorry. I should go." Will turns around and is about to pick up his bike when...

"Hey, hold on! Just wait!" Mike grabs Will's wrist turning him back around to face him again. "Can you please let me say something?"

"What is there that you could possibly say that would—"

Oh.

It's not words.

Mike places his free hand on Will's cheek, the other still holding onto his wrist. Then, he kisses him. Soft and sweet and warm and real. Will doesn't necessarily kiss Mike back, though, because he's not exactly sure how. This is, after all, his first kiss, and Mike knows that.

Or, he should.

Mike takes one step forwards, bringing his and Will's bodies closer together, and that's when Will pulls back. He doesn't know what he's doing.

"Will...?"

"I...you..."

"Will, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

A pause, a deep breathe, and then, "Everything."

Mike rests his head against Will's, his lips almost brushing his nose. Will is breathing deeply, a world's worth of words caught in his throat. So many things that he wants to say, but only a few of them slipping out, creating incoherent sentences.

"The swings...Halloween...the time when...I...you said...El...because then...you..."

"Will?"

Will just stares at him. He couldn't possibly respond to him right now. Not in a complete sentence, anyway.

"Okay, um..."

Mike searches Will's face and eyes looking for something, anything, to prompt him to continue with what he's about to say.

"...Will, I..."

Another pause, a glance away and then to Will's lips.

"...I love you...I am in love with you."

Will stares at Mike. He's still trying to get his thoughts together, but he's not sure if he's even having any. One second his brain is moving a thousand miles a minute, the next, it's almost as it's empty.

"Will? Say something?"

...

"I don't know how to kiss."

"Oh," Mike says, pausing for a moment before what Will is saying really hits him. "Oh, shit. Shit, that was your first kiss. Shit, Will I'm so sorry I should've– I should've asked and– oh my god I'm so..."

Mike bursts into laughter, his worry still clear as he rests his head against Will's once again.

"You don't have to ask," Will whispers, barely even audible.

"Yeah?" Mike asks, his voice earnest.

"Yeah," Will says, a breath he didn't know he'd been holding escaping his lips.

Mike kisses Will again, this time making sure to guide him through it, but even Mike isn't sure he knows what he's doing. After all, he's only ever kissed one other person before, and that was a girl. Is kissing a boy supposed to be done different than kissing a girl? Mike doesn't know (it's not), but he's doing his best to figure it out.

But it's...hard, because Will isn't helping. His mom did tell him middle school would be awkward. He just didn't think she meant this.

"Will," Mike mumbles against Will's lips, still kissing him.

"Hm?"

"I'm gonna go tell Lucas that I'm taking you home."

...

Oh

...

Oh

....

OH

"You're staying the night?" Will asks with a gulp at the end, and Mike looks at him flustered.

"Um, I mean, yeah, if that's...if that's okay, I mean, I know I've done it a hundred times now but if because we kissed that make sit awkward then—"

"No, yeah, I mean, of course you can. You always can."

"Always?" Mike asks, that earnest tone still lingering around.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, always."

"Okay," Mike says, and he smiles.

That smile. It's not just any smile. No. It's the smile. The one. That big, cheesy grin.

And Will feels himself falling in love all over again.

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #mike wheeler/will byers #angst #a lot of angst #angst with a happy ending #angst and romance #teen angst #will byers needs a hug #will byers loves mike wheeler #not actually unrequited love #mike wheeler loves will byers #mike wheeler is bad at feelings #mike wheeler being and idiot #oblivious mike wheeler #requited love #requited unrequited love #inspired by fanart #inspired by a comic by @/pinecone_fox on Instagram