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"Right Where I Want To Be"

Mike Wheeler x Will Byers Oneshot

Warnings! Implied smut, making out, alcohol/ drug use, possible angst, maybe ooc

[This is set in a slight AU where Will doesn't have an epilogue boyfriend. Loosely inspired by that Heated Rivalry scene.]

Summary:

It's been a few years since Mike Wheeler and Will Byers have moved from Hawkins to the city. A newly published author, Mike spends most of his time cooped up in his apartment flat. While Will spends most of his time at the party scene with some new friends, trying to move on from Mike and Hawkins. One night changes their new routine when they accidentally cross paths again, reigniting old and unspoken feelings.

It used to be unlike Will to be involved with the city’s nightlife. He had always been a shy, reserved teenager, but something changed after he left Hawkins. He had time to finally peel out of his shell, spending most Friday nights at a club or bar, getting tipsy, and dancing on attractive strangers. The bass of the music echoing through the room pulsed deep in his chest, leaving him with a light-headed feeling that made him feel more confident and bold. It’s an addiction. Will lives for these nights, where he truly feels free with himself after holding back for so long. His worst days became the ones where he was sober from the music and the alcohol. When he could still feel the traumatized child inside of him, the one who felt insecure and ignored. It created a false feeling of authenticity in him. However, he couldn't care less when the highs felt so much better than the lows. How could he resist?

Well, on one of those typical nights, Will decides he’ll be bolder than usual. He was tired of the PG-13 dances, the teasing, the flirting–all right on the edge of crossing boundaries. He was afraid of rejection and falling in love again. Now, he felt slightly more sure of himself that he wouldn’t catch feelings. That he could have exactly what he wants, all with no strings attached. All he had to do was find a willing participant in his experiment.

“Meet at our usual spot before we leave, then, yeah?” Will’s new city friend gently places a hand on his shoulder, shouting over the music. Will nods in response, his mind in other places. The rest of the group walks off in their own directions. Will heads straight for the bar–there was no way he was going to execute this without a little courage in his system.

“Can I get two vodka shots, straight?” Will leans over the bar counter a little, a fat grin on his face. The bartender nods, turning his back to will and grabbing a large bottle of vodka. Will watches almost impatiently as the tender expertly pours into the glasses. Will downs one before the bartender can even finish walking away. He shakes his head a little, still not used to the expo-marker flavor of pure alcohol, having to hold back a gag. It’s a foolproof method regardless of his distaste. Will straightens up, grooming over his outfit with his hands to smooth it out before heading straight towards the dance floor, where a crowd of sweaty, queer, men and women are bouncing and dancing through a fog machine to the sound of electronic bass.

Usually, Will would dance for the hell of it, too drunk to care what anyone thought. He had a feeling for the music, the pulse, the air. This time was different, though. He was looking for a partner. It wasn’t something that naturally happened anymore; he was going to force it. He was looking for it; therefore, it felt like ages before his eye caught someone. It was almost embarrassing to find a rhythm to the music, feeling more awkward than usual. That was before the alcohol finally hit his system. He finally began to feel the bass through his skin, making his mind a little more numb, drowning out his thoughts. There was a familiar feeling of someone’s eyes on his back, watching his movements like a predator. Will slowly turned his head in each direction, trying to catch the eyes of the one staring at him. It didn’t take long to find them.

His heart stops for a moment before picking back up speed, the music amplifying the feeling of it practically beating out of his chest. In the distance stands the figure, eyeing him through the crowd. Time slows a little, the blue and yellow lights mix into a bright shade of green as the song switches. Everything feels zoomed in to this one moment, and the people dancing beside Will slow in his mind. He continues to dance alongside them, trying to entice the stranger, but also not to lose his composure. His eyes wander over the stranger’s dark, almost black curls framing the sharp, angular face of their pale, lanky figure. The stranger is only slightly taller than Will, but from afar, they feel even taller. There’s an odd pair of glasses on their face that, weirdly enough, turns Will on. It suits their structure perfectly and matches the almost business casual outfit they have on. Catching Will’s hints, the stranger paves a bold path towards him, weaving through the crowd in front of them, flashing between them. There’s a mysterious atmosphere that’s unfamiliar to Will, and it excites him–this new experience. It’s everything he’d been hoping for. The thrill, the tension, the yearning, the music passing like waves through his body.

The closer the stranger got, the more uncomfortable the sense of an unexpected deja vu came over him. Those dark eyes he caught earlier were now even closer; the drink the stranger was once holding had been discarded somewhere along the way. Will could smell the deep, sweet, and woodsy scent of their cologne; the smell intoxicated him. The sweet scent rose above the smell of sweat and alcohol, swirling in his head, feeling even more lightheaded. Will cracks an uncontrollable, foxy grin at the stranger. He eyes them up and down, now only a few feet away. Will doesn’t dare step any closer; he doesn’t want to chase. He wants the feeling of this poisonous stranger to come to him. A hand slides around his waist, and he has to fight to keep his legs from buckling. It’s a firm, warm feeling. Each fingertip sends jolts through his abdomen, exposed by his cropped shirt. The hands are surprisingly soft, the touch is gentle and shy, as if the participant is hesitant. Will places his hand over the stranger’s and leans towards their ear with a grin, whispering deep into the canal.

“It’s ok to touch me, I won’t bite.” The stranger seems to take this as a challenge by placing both of their hands on Will’s waist, gripping a little tighter. There’s now less than a foot of distance between them, and Will still hasn’t gotten a good look at their face through the strobe lights. He takes the risk and shifts his gaze upwards to catch their eyes again. He feels his confidence fade a little again, his heart doing that same palpatation motion from only a few minutes earlier. Memories of Mike Wheeler during his days in Hawkins as a kid flash through his mind, intrusively. Something in the dark eyes and appearance of this stranger has revived these memories and feelings. There was absolutely no way Will would believe that the real Michael Wheeler would be standing in front of him like this. Not after everything that happened back in Hawkins, especially not with his reclusive personality. Yes, this was only a coincidence. A doppelganger that just happened to look similar to a well-formed, adult Mike Wheeler. The things that Will was feeling were only remnants of trauma and a schoolboy crush. It’s not uncommon for people to have a type. Will’s type might just be people who look like Mike Wheeler, there’s nothing odd about that,–is what he desperately tries to convince himself. He anxiously swallowed these thoughts while dancing in the middle of the crowd with this uncanny stranger.

Will makes a new pact with himself; Forget Mike through this moment. Let go of all past feelings and trauma, blow it all to hell. Do everything he’s desired since he was a teen and longer, and let it all go after. Then, he’ll never have to think about Mike Wheeler again. Another foolproof plan. It would make the moment less awkward to just give in. Will lifts his head again with more confidence, their lips impossibly close as if the stranger was leaning closer, waiting. The smell of them was even stronger, even more intoxicating, and they looked so much like Mike. He could barely contain himself.

Since moving to the city for his writing career, Mike had never been to a bar. It’s not that he wasn’t interested in the nightlife, but he never had time outside of his work to go out. Mike decided that it had been enough, and after over a year of living in the city and pursuing his writing, he needed to finally venture out into the local area and socialize. In reality, he just wanted to drink somewhere other than his depressing flat. Mike’s always been aware that Will lives in the city as well; he spent multiple months using his writing as an excuse to hide in his apartment to avoid Will. Eventually, he sobered up from his guilt and rationalized that even if Will lived in the city, it was unlikely they lived anywhere near one another. Besides the potential sighting here and there, Mike stopped being worried about coming across Will. So far, he had no issues. He had barely thought of Will for over 3 months, putting all of his energy into his book. His character Willhelm stopped being a reflection of Will, the boy he was too scared to love, and became Willhelm–a fictional boy that came from blurry, distant memories he had. There were times when Mike sat wallowing in his room, at the office, at his typewriter, wondering if he would do things differently. Wondering what it would be like–what he would do–if he really did see Will again after all this time. Would he make a move? Would he run away? Would he never notice? Or would it be just the same as passing by a stranger on the street? These types of questions cycled through Mike’s mind almost daily, before they became a weekly occurrence, then finally–he barely thought about it all. It stopped affecting him; he was slowly moving on. The image of that night on the tower, in the radio station–it all stopped haunting him as much as it originally had. It’s why Mike felt so confident when first walking into the club. It was his first pick; he had overheard some talk about it from colleagues he barely talked to, and refused to interact with beyond necessity. It was overwhelming, the smell of cigarettes, alcohol, B.O, and perfume. That and the low thump of bass from across the room to the dance floor. The music gave off the feeling of bouncing into every corner of the room, before hitting Mike in the chest. It was an almost sickening feeling, but at the same time, it felt good. Mike walked around aimlessly for a few minutes before finding the bar, where he immediately spotted a space at the counter.

Sliding onto the barstool, the bartender came swiftly over to Mike, cleaning a glass in his hand with a rag.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks in a commercial voice.

“Just a gin and tonic,” Mike replies, glancing around the room a moment.

“You want to start a tab, or will that be all?” The bartender quirked his brow.

“No, that should be it. I’m not planning on staying long.” Mike shrugs, nodding in reply before staring back off somewhere else. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He just had a sneaking feeling that there was something better to catch his attention.

Faster than Mike expected, the tender came back with his drink, dropping it down in front of him with a gentle thud of the crystal and making him jump in his seat slightly. He immediately whips his head to the man.

“Thanks,” Mike says passively. The bartender says nothing back to him and instead moves down the aisle, throwing the rag over his shoulder.

Mike clasps both of his hands around the drink, just staring into the caramel color for a while. He watches it swirl and bounce with each gentle vibration of the bass. Suddenly, an idea came to him. He took a quick swig from the glass before getting up from the stool. Glass in hand, Mike made his way straight for the dance floor. Mike had never really danced before, besides one middle school dance; he had never really experienced any sort of party or dancing. Not by himself, not with anyone. He was awkward and unsure of how to act in places like this, but he couldn’t help but feel drawn to the floor by the soft thudding. Like a siren’s call, he weaves his way closer, making his way through the dark, shifting figures of dancing people through colorful strobe lights. He’s only made it a few feet closer to the center of the crowd before he sees the flash of a familiar face between two of the dark, dancing figures. A pit in his stomach forms that deepens with the growing pound of the bass, yet this pit that is often dark and painful, feels light, like a gentle butterfly. The light of the strobe lights seems to glow around him from where Mike is standing, creating an almost angelic aura. The boy he hoped he wouldn’t have to see again, the one that he wished he would never have to be reminded of, the clear image of him stood there between the crowd, dancing. Tiny droplets of sweat cover his skin from the hot air and effort of dancing, creating a glowy sheen over him. It spreads into the hem of his cropped shirt and the end of his hair, causing it to stick to his skin. Despite how disgusting he really is, there’s something so beautiful about it to Mike. Like Will truly is a siren that emerged from the water, that is calling for him through the music. It isn’t just his appearance that is alluring to Mike, but also his demeanor. Even from afar, Mike can tell that Will’s shy and sheltered personality is now gone and replaced with something more aware and confident. More confident than Mike has ever been in his entire life. Mike laughs at himself through his thoughts when he realizes that, despite Will’s change in style, haircut, and demeanor, there was something in his heart that immediately recognized him without hesitation. Mike stares, watching in awe. He holds his drink a little tighter in his fist. Of all days, of all places, after all this time, Mike sees him again. It feels almost unreal; the alcohol isn’t helping his perception of the situation either. Though he’s feeling more drunk without it.

There’s a silent urge of jealousy that gnaws at Mike when he realizes Will is grasping onto and teasing the other men around him, it’s subtle and seemingly unreciprocated or forgotten by the majority, but it makes Mike feel strangely territorial over someone he has no more claim to–if he even did to begin with. Without having to debate himself, Mike walks closer into view of Will. Watching him. There’s still a hesitation in his step, instead peering through the heads of people that he couldn't care less for. Then, as if his subconscious prayers had been answered, Will turns his head to Mike and catches his gaze. There’s an ‘Oh shit, I didn’t think this through’ bell that rings through Mike’s head, but he’s too far gone to hear it. The expression on Will’s face doesn’t change to disgust or indifference as Mike had imagined; instead, seemingly, Will turns his flirtatious attention to Mike through the crowd between them. Unfortunately, Mike is weak, and he can’t resist the sensual movements of Will serenading him to walk closer. Mike keeps his cool, making sure that he doesn’t get up and run through the crowd to Will like a desperate loser. Instead, he slowly pushes his way forward, leaving behind his unwanted drink in the hands of a random person, part of the mob of people.

It’s agonizing getting closer to Will. Mike can see the features of his face with stronger visibility despite the darkness through the strobes. The lights are enough to give off his bold and recognizable features that Mike used to study with his eyes. It’s once he gets closer that Mike realizes he’s only this lucky because Will can’t recognize him. He wonders for just a moment, a new thought: Would he act this way if he knew it was Mike? How often does he act this way with other men? The thought saddens him a little, and his chest swells with the determination to mark Will as his own, so that no one can have him in this way ever again besides Mike. Feeling more brazen, Mike places an experimental hand on Will’s waist, the warmth of his flesh spreading through his hand like fire. Mike resisted the urge to collapse on the floor just at the feeling. He swears for a moment that he can almost feel Will’s pulse through his fingertips, but the bass reverbating obscures this idea. Even if Will’s chest isn’t pounding, Mike is sure that his is. Especially when Will leans warmly towards his ear, whispering something in a sultry timber that shoots straight from his head and into his abdomen. Like a dog, Mike follows orders and emboldens himself further by gripping both hands tightly around Will’s waist, bringing him closer, just like the growing desperation in his chest to express all of his longing and feelings.

“Seems the innocent Will Byers of Hawkins has changed from the big city,” Mike whispers back into Will’s ear, ghosting over his lips. He feels Will stutter a bit in his place at his reply, almost going stiff. Mike feels the change in the atmosphere from Will’s sudden tension, and another pit forms in his stomach. He feels he’s surely ruined whatever good thing is happening to him now. Will leans back a bit in his stance to get a full look at Mike’s face, his brows furrowed. He doesn’t look angry or disgusted by Mike. Instead, Mike recognizes a feeling of confusion and sadness in Will’s gaze. It’s a pitiful look that makes Mike feel even more sick and guilty looking at him. He mourns now that he didn’t get enough to drink, because this moment has definitely sobered him.

“Mike…?” Will inflects inquisitively in his tone, almost unsure. Mike says nothing, but the silence is enough of a response. They both know the truth. They have since the moment they stepped into the bar.

“Fuck–um–you look–you look great,” Will says, if only to break the silence suffocating the two of them. “I mean–I just didn’t expect to see you here. Do you–do you also live in the city…?”

Mike looks puzzledly at Will. His book was practically a sensation at this point; had he really just not noticed? Mike felt a bit disappointed at that, but perhaps it works in his favor.

“Uh, yeah, actually. About two years ago or so.”

“Wow….that’s. Wow.”

“Yup.”

It became the most awkward and uncomfortable conversation the two have ever had.

“I just don’t see you here often, so I assumed it’s your first time in the city.”

“Yeah, I actually don’t go out a lot.” Mike shrugs, realizing the two of them are just standing there in this moving crowd, and he turns his gaze back to Will. “Maybe we should keep dancing,”

“Oh! Right!” Will chirps nervously and hesitantly begins to dance with Mike, trying to wrap himself closer to Mike without holding onto him tightly.

“So, I’m guessing that means you come here a lot?” Mike asks, it’s stupid banter.

“Actually, yeah. I come with my friends. They’re actually here with me tonight, but we always go our separate ways.” Will nods, his demeanor slowly swaying into something more casual.

“That’s nice.” Mike nods awkwardly, trying not to bring back the previous tension. To no avail, as there was another awkward moment of silence between them as they both searched for something to say to keep the energy up between them.

“You know, I thought about you–after we both moved away from Hawkins.” Mike beat Will to breaking the silence.

“Really?” Will’s face almost seems to beam for a moment, lighting up with eyes, as if it truly surprised him.

“Yeah, I mean like, all our memories and stuff–in Hawkins.” Will listened, his bright expression slowly dimming the more and more Mike went on. Mike tried to explain further, hoping to bring back the light he had in his eyes. “A lot of the things we did back then, the whole gang. I was using it to–well, I–it was because of the book I wrote,” Will nods, his expression more attentive than excited anymore. “Did you see I wrote a book?” Mike interjects into his run-on sentence. “I used a lot of our memories from Hawkins to write it, and it recently got published. I’m writing a new book now–or more so, I have to. But I don’t really have any ideas yet–” Mike gets more and more nervous speaking with Will like this. Being so close, and at times bumped closer by the people around them. The sound pulses through both of them like one circuit. Mike can barely think before he speaks as he gets caught in the attentive stare of Will’s eyes, and Will looks almost endeared by this. Will places a playful finger over Mike’s mouth, hushing him instantly. Mike snaps out of his daze, a soft, embarrassed flush spreading over his face as Will keeps his eyes locked on him.

“Just shut up, Mike.” Will laughs through his words, shaking his head. There’s a playful smile on his face, and Mike’s heart melts. He nods in total agreement, without any second thought. It takes a second of being pressed together like this before they realize that Will still has his finger over Mike’s lips, and Mike wants to hold it there forever, to kiss it–to slowly kiss across his entire body.

“Sorry.” Will snaps out of his playful mood, pulling his finger away shyly.

“No, don’t stop.” The words come out of Mike almost automatically, surprising himself. Will looks at him just as stunned, his lips parted as if holding his breath. Mike’s lips open with Will’s, getting way too close to one another. It feels like an eternity as they hesitantly ghost over each other’s lips, waiting for the other to make a move, their gazes shifting to the other’s lips and back to their gaze.

“Mike…” Will releases his breath.

“Will,” Mike whispers back.

Mike watches Will’s expression as if waiting for some sign or approval. Will notices his anticipation and nods, bracing himself for what he never expected was going to happen in his lifetime. Mike wastes no time hesitating and crashes his mouth onto Will’s. It’s not a sweet or sensual kiss; it’s raw, rough, needy, and passionate. The kind of kiss that doesn’t allow the other to breathe. They both melt into the kiss, but before it could go any further, Will pushes back on Mike’s chest to forcefully break them apart.

“W-We can’t be doing this.” Will stutters.

“Why not?” Mike replies.

“Because…you’re not…” Will lowers his head away, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Not what?” Mike steps back a little to peer at Will’s hidden expression, tilting his head to reach it.

“You’re not gay, Mike. You were with Jane.” His eyes begin to sting with tears.

“Will…” Mike sighs. Will keeps his gaze away. “Will, look at me.” Mike reaches his hand out to tilt Will’s chin, and Will’s eyes find his. Will is still silent, and Mike can see the tears glistening in his eyes, making them sparkle. It pulls at his heart a little.

“I was with Jane. But I want to be with you–I wanted to be with you.” Mike explains.

“Wanted?” Will asks, raising a confused brow.

“It’s always been you, Will. Always.” Mike admits, feeling his heart racing fast in his chest again. “I’ve imagined this moment so many times, in so many different ways, for so many years–I was just a coward and in the end…I couldn’t say anything. But I’m saying it now, before I never get the chance.” Will watches Mike in awe, all of their memories flooding into his head with new meaning. Mike continues to ramble on, trying to save himself despite already being embarrassed. Will shushes him again, a smile beaming across his face.

“It’s ok, Mike. I’ve wanted it too.” Will shakes his head, still smiling. Mike lets out a breath he was holding, sighing in relief.

“So…now that we’re here, do you want to start over?” Mike asks. Will nods fervently in response.

“Yes!” He chimes. They stare at each other in pure bliss, but the excitement and pressure boil, and they both collapse into another kiss. This time, less hesitant and with more of a tender intention. They make out for a while in the crowd, arms wrapped around each other clumsily, gripping onto whatever they can to ground themselves, making sure that even if it is a dream, they won’t have to wake up. Will pulls away again and Mike’s stomach drops, believing he was about to reject him again.

“Here, take these off.” Will giggles, smiling as he moves Mike’s glasses from his nose bridge and into his soft curls. Mike hadn’t noticed that they’d been bumping into Will while they were kissing, making it difficult and painful to deepen the kiss.

“Oh, sorry.” Mike blushes, embarrassed again. It feels as if his whole body sighs for a moment, but before he got a chance to waste another breath, Will crashed his lips back onto Mike’s. Tongues clash, teeth clack, it’s messy. Luckily for those around them, the noise is drowned out by the music. Eventually, the heat is overbearing, and the crowd feels too stuffy.

“Let’s get out of here,” They both agree. Mike takes Will’s hand before Will has time to tell his friends he’s leaving early, but he doesn’t care anymore. He’s right where he wants to be.

I’m making a new taglist since I’m sure my usual one is outdated by now. Comment below if you would like to be on my new taglist for whatever new fics I post!

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