Walking back to Hopper's cabin from the field I could feel it more and more, the feeling only grew stronger after viewing Hawkin's in such discoloration. But through all this damage, I still couldn't get him off my mind. It didn't help that he was standing next to me as we walked back. I wanted to hold his hand, only I'd never actually do it. For now I stay walking through the bland field of daisies paying no attention to anything around me but him. Staring at his hands trailing behind him as he took each step. Reminiscing the comfort, warmth, safety, and sense of home I'd gotten that Halloween night back in his basement when he placed his hand in mine in reassurance. "Crazy together" he'd said. I never forgot. All these years I've felt like a mistake. Zombie boy. Queer, flying around his little fairyland. But he made me forget all these horrible things people said about me. Though I'd be lying if I said these things didn't stick with me all this time, and I hated myself for that.
As we walked through the door, barely on its hinges, he turned to me with such urgency it sent my heart racing at just the glance of his eyes on mine.
"Hey, can we talk?" Mike said in a rushed tone
"S-sure.." I answered so quickly I stuttered.
Talk? About what? Now my heart is really racing. Did he notice my eyes glued to him on our walk back? Is he gonna ask about what to do with El again? I don't know if I have it in me to spew more about "her" for him to feel like he's not a bad person, but I know I can if that's what he needs. He led me back to the flipped couch we'd been sitting on just a bit ago. Everyone else stayed outside discussing where to start our next mission.
"So, I just wanna say I saw you in the van-" he began. "I was so wrapped up in making sure Eleven was okay to even bother asking you if you were okay. Which-" I tried to cut him off and tell him I'm fine, but he ignored me and kept going. "I know you're not. I saw you crying. I heard it in your voice as you spoke. I'm sorry I didn't ask before if you were alright. But I'm asking now. What's going on?" his voice softened as he said those last three words.
"Right- right, no, sorry, I just had a lot on my mind about El too-" he cut me off.
"Will. I know that's not the whole truth. You can tell me anything, you know that? What's been on your mind?" he said so reassuringly I could feel my face burning up.
"Well, it's just- I don't even know how to begin-" I could already feel my eyes welling up as the tears settled at the back of my throat.
"Then let me. Start at the van. When you gave me the painting."
"What painting?" El barged through the doors as if she'd been listening the whole time.
"Oh! Just the one Will made for you! Said you'd commissioned it from him? I love it!" He seemed more excited than usual to be speaking to her, as this was the first they'd spoken since Mike told her he loved her that night at the pizza place.
"Commissioned?" she said back in confusion. Shit. This is really where I'm gonna have to rip off the bandaid.
"El, don't worry about it-" I got cut off by the yells of Hopper asking El to bring back a glass of whatever alcohol she could find in those cabinets. She went on and walked back out, leaving Mike and I alone again, this time in an anxious, tense silence as if we were both waiting for the other to speak. I cleared my throat, and as I was about to start, Mike began.
"What does she mean 'what painting?' She asked you to paint that, didn't she?" he said hastily.
"Mike, El didn't ask me to paint anything. I did it because I wanted to give it to you as a sort of present," and also as a way to tell you I have such extreme feelings for you that my heart beats out of my chest just by holding eye contact with you is what I wanted to say. But I didn't. In fact, I couldn't bring myself to even continue my sentence. I just stopped there.
"A present? For what?" he asked, seeming genuinely intrigued. There was a long pause. Or at least it had felt like a long pause. It may have only been a few seconds but it felt like it'd never end.
"Mike," I could do this. It's time to rip off the bandaid. "Do you remember the Halloween we were all ghostbusters, and I had an episode while we were out trick-or-treating and you took me back to your basement?" I proposed.
"Of course. You practically saved me from that awful night. I was much happier to be with you, alone, that night." he said so slowly I noticed his cheeks getting red.
"Yeah, well do you remember what you said to me that night?" I didn't wait for an answer. "You told me you felt like you were going crazy, and so did I, and you said at least if we were going crazy, that'd we'd be crazy together." I took a deep breath. This was really happening. "That stuck with me ever since. I've always felt like a mistake. Like a freak. Like I didn't belong anywhere, and that I didn't deserve to be normal." At this point, I shed a tear, though I was trying my hardest to hold them back. "Remember the summer when the mall 'burned down?' The day we had an argument outside of your house. You thought it was because I wanted to play DND. But it was so much more than that. You said to me "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and while you've probably forgotten, or maybe even meant nothing by it, it really struck a nerve for me. Because you're right. It's not your fault I don't like girls. But I've always thought it was mine. You, Lucas, and even Dustin having girlfriends made me feel out of place in a party I've always felt like home in. And," the tears were racing like a slip-n-slide. "You rode your bike all the way to my house in the pouring rain to apologize. When you found me at the remains of Castle Byers, pleading for forgiveness, I-" I didn't know how else to word this without getting my point across. I had been looking at my hands throughout this whole discussion, and for the first time I glanced at Mike, and he was as red-faced and teary-eyed as I was. I think he may finally get it. "I like you, Mike." my heart skipped a beat. Our eyes met at once, so fast I only just realized his hand was in mine. When did he take my hand? Have I been talking too much? I should give him a chance to speak.
"Will," he started, only to cut himself off as he slowly placed his lips on mine. This was really happening. After a few seconds he pulled away to look at my face, then down at my hand in his, and back to my face.
"Mike," I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what. I was so focused on the feeling of Mike's kiss that I couldn't form a single coherent thought.
"No, let me speak, now." He insinuated. "That Halloween night, I started feeling crazy for more reasons other than what I said at the time. Seeing as you were so attached to me, it made me realize whatever I felt for you wasn't normal. I didn't feel this way about anyone before, no friends, not even El. I felt like such a freak for not knowing what this feeling was, or how to handle it, but the worry went away every time I was with you. That night in my basement, I put my hand on your's and felt sparks. But I tried to blow out those sparks anytime they were there. The night I biked to your house in the rain, I felt so bad for what I said without even realizing you felt anywhere near the same. I just, I wanted to give you a hug, quite honestly." he took a deep breath and wiped his remaining tear streaks from his cherry red cheeks. I could tell his cheeks were burning up, and not only because I had felt them against mine just moments ago. "The other day, at your house, while we were packing, I couldn't stop smiling at you. Every time you'd look back at me, I could feel myself blushing. Which feels so cheesy to say but-" he started speeding his voice, but I cut him off. I couldn't let him go on without telling him the truth.
"In the van yesterday, I meant everything I said." I took a deep breath. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. "Only it wasn't about El." He looked at me, furrowing his eyebrows ever so slightly in confusion. "I was talking about myself. All those things I said, they were about me." There was a moment of silence before I could see the connection go through to his brain, when his face re-straightened out. This time, his eyebrows were raised, seemingly in shock though his expression had a sense of reassurance to it.
He looked at me for a while. He still had my hand in his, and took his other to my cheek and kissed me again. I placed my free hand on his neck as I embraced the moment I'd been wishing to have for years. Once our lips separated, he spoke up this time.
"Will, you-" he looked directly into my eyes while placing his now freehand into my other hand. "You like me?"
"Y-yes? Is that okay?" I asked, dumbfoundedly, though it was a genuine question.
"More than okay." he responded, his forehead meeting mine.
"Do you like me?" I questioned back.
"Is that okay?" he replied with a smile I knew all too well.
"More than okay."