#so hopefully from reading this itll get me out of that headspace

[idk-ilike5sos]

Halfway through, the game was paused for Mike to use the bathroom. Will expected Max to follow, keep up the act that the bathroom door was the reason they’d been inseparable all night. But, to Will’s surprise, she stayed close by his side.

With an unacknowledged tension, they stood at their respective end of the table. Meanwhile, Lucas, El, and Dustin were on the other side. A few feet away, the three laughed as they spoke over each other - heavily contrasting Will and Max hardly existing together.

Will combed a hand through his hair, wishing the stuffy air could do more for his flushed skin. As time passed, he’d adjusted better to his new-found dizzy disposition, but his hot skin was yet to go unnoticed.

As his hand dropped back by his side with a huff, Max’s elbow nudged into his ribs. He looked at her with eyebrows raised in question.

“You look awful,” Max said, in her deadpan way, “in an if-you-don’t-barf-you’ll-pass-out way.”

“Thanks,” Will scoffed.

“C’mon.” Max’s hand wrapped around his wrist and she started pulling him away from the table.

Will didn’t bother arguing or asking questions - instead, following his feet as Max guided him through the kitchen. Careful of the beer bottles and plastic cups abandoned on the floor, he watched his feet trudge through the room until Max suddenly stopped. He looked up to a door leading outside, which Max opened then continued to pull him through.

As the door closed, the music was significantly quieter, giving off the illusion of a far more contained friendly get-together. The grass, muted in the winter season, stretched to a brown waist-high fence that surrounded the area. In the back right corner, a tall tree overhung a square of the garden. The branches were all bare, and gray tinted the peeling bark while a patchwork blanket of leaves covered the ground below in shades of deathly brown. There weren’t half as many people in the garden, allowing the chance for something of privacy.

Max dragged him along the length of the wall - avoiding stretched-out legs and bodies hunched on the ground - until they reached the corner. The closest person was at least six feet away and halfway to being passed out. Will leaned against the wall, staring into the garden, and Max did the same.

At the end of the garden, some people were smoking cigarettes and, from the smell of things, weed. Just outside of the group, were various couples scattered around, making out as if there were no one else around to witness it. Leaning against the brick wall of the house were a handful of people with red faces and slow-blinking eyes - all with the same goal of sobering up. Or, at the least, not vomiting everywhere.

In his periphery, Will caught sight of two girls wandering over to the lone tree. They stumbled hand-in-hand with red solo cups sloshing by their sides. Then, grips tightened on each other as they awkwardly sat beneath the branches. Backs against the rough trunk, their shoulders pressed together - like it was natural and not something they had to second-guess - then they lifted their plastic cups and cheers-ed. A mouthful of each spilled onto their clothes, making their heads fall back with loud laughter.

In the back of Will’s mind - he pretended they were in love. Secretly together, as they used mundane acts of friendship as dates. He’d never admit it to his conscious self; he’d curse at himself for being stupid. But, in reality, it made him feel less alone.

“I see you and Mike are friends again,” Max said, her voice bordering on an accusation.

It grounded Will: shoving the garden, the two girls, beneath a blurry filter. His cheeks blushed as if Max had heard all of the thoughts playing in his mind and his heart twisted with guilt.

Weight shifted between his feet and he offered a pathetic shrug. “We never weren’t.”

The fresh air swept over his skin in the shape of a thousand prickling needles. Ice clung to his skin - to the back of his neck - as goosebumps formed and hair stood. His stomach churned as his blood turned cold, tingling up and down his limbs like nails ghosting his skin.

“Bullshit,” Max spat - Will could feel her glare.

Between the however-many beers he’d drank and the long night - long three months - he’d had, frustration oozed into his blood, and his face tensed with all the ice flooding through him. His brows twitched into a frown and his jaw set tight.

“And since when have you two been attached at the hip?” He peered through the corner of his eyes: Max’s body directed at him as she stared out of narrowed eyes.

She faltered a little. Nothing but silence attached to her tongue as she opened her mouth in search of an excuse. Her shoulders rose, eyes drifting; she might as well have held up a sign with “I’m about to lie” written on it. She seemed to understand as much, when her shoulders slumped with a huff.

Will looked away, but the blurred filter remained over his eyes like a shield. He didn’t try looking at the girls again - worried someone would notice and get the wrong idea, that he was interested in one of them. He swapped them in favor of the old, wrinkled grass in front of him.

“Look–” Max started again, her voice stern, “–I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but Mike–”

“It’s not a game,” Will interrupted with a desperate whine in his voice, as he finally turned to Max. His eyes bat between hers for a second as she settled and waited with raised brows. His arms flailed, the whine merging with the pent-up frustration: “I get that you’re trying to help - but it’s just making it harder. If you give me five minutes to talk to him alone, all of this could be over already.”

“Why is this so important to you?” Max bit back - almost every bit as irritated as him. “Why right now?”

There was his chance. Confess. Get everything off his chest. Let Max know - let Max help.

It was perfect.

“Because–” Will started, but his voice cut off, strained. With his mouth hung open - waiting for every word hanging on the end of his tongue to fall off: to rush out of his mouth with the same urgency it had when telling Lucas - his wide, glazed eyes flickered between Max’s.

She was his friend. One of his best friends. They’d been through a hell of a lot worse together than Will confessing he liked boys. That didn’t loosen the lump clogging his throat, though.

He tried to remember the feeling he’d had earlier in the day when Lucas had brought it up as if it was nothing more than an inconvenient crush. He tried to remember that Max had grown up in California - somewhere so much more diverse - and that she’d never implied any negative connotation towards, well, people like him. He tried to remember the summer of eighty-five: how most days were just him, Max, and Lucas - getting new high scores at the arcade, or riding bikes through town.

All the while: Max waited, expectantly, but something softer suddenly hid beneath her exterior. Her eyebrows lowered, the frown a faint ghost on her features, but her lips remained pursed. Closed; shut; silent. She wasn’t going to say another thing until Will dared to finish that sentence.

But it could never, ever be so simple.

With a defeated sigh, Will’s shoulders fell as his head knocked against the wall. His teeth clamped the inside of his cheek - all the alcohol in his blood making it impossible to blink away the wet glimmer in his eyes. His tongue quickly coated his lips and he wondered if Max would let him borrow her “I’m about to lie” sign.

“Because he’s important to me.”

It wasn’t a lot - it was hardly anything - but it was something.

Max stayed quiet, her eyes boring into the side of Will’s face like laser beams.

“And–” so, Will continued with a wavering voice; an ounce of courage - but the end goal was too far out of reach: a smudge in the distance, “–I know the past few months probably doesn’t make it seem like it, but he is. I just want to fix this.”

“Well, I’m sorry–” Max replied, quiet and reluctant as she lacked the sharp teeth she’d had a moment prior, “–but he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, I know.” Will nodded to himself - then let his eyes wander back over to Max as his head turned. “But we’re gonna have to eventually.”

Her face had lost the harsh creases, smooth with sorrow and pity. Her eyes met his, guilt in the twinkle of light - likely the same thing she was seeing.

“It’s not up to me,” she said with a sheepish shrug, “if he says he doesn’t want to talk about it right now, I’m gonna be there for him.”

She pushed off the wall, her gaze dropping to the ground, then she started back towards the door.

“C’mon–” she said, “–they’re probably waiting for us.”

Will got to work at blinking down the tears in his eyes as he followed.

[This is a scene from the most recent chapter of my Sober Thoughts series, continue reading through the links if you enjoyed!! <3]

#stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler fanfic #posting this scene because i just reread it after a few months and i still really love it #im desperately want to continue with the final chapter and the only thing thats stopping me is my fear of it coming out shit #so hopefully from reading this itll get me out of that headspace #now im gonna go reread what ive got for the next chapter so far and hopefully have the motivation to continue...!!