Storyteller, tell me about tomorrow?
Byler | E | 1/1 | 17k - Byler pride month fic
Ever since they defeated Vecna, Will has been counting down the days till he can get out of Hawkins. Not in the least because his coming out led to the life alteringly perfect outcome of him and Mike dating.
It could only be better if they didn't have to keep it a secret. On June 25th 1989, Will caught a glimpse of what life could look like beyond Hawkins, and what monsters still lingered inside their homes.
He needed Mike to know there was a brighter future out there. There had to be.
A plastic Evil Dead keychain clanked softly against the dashboard as Will shut off the ignition. The Ford’s humming dying off as the key popped free from behind the steering wheel. Immediately Will missed the air conditioning, as the thick, muggy, Indiana heat settled into the car.
Through the windshield the Wheeler’s two-story stood proudly in the early afternoon sun. Its familiar red brick facade welcoming them. Although it had been nearly a year since the Byers had moved out of the Wheeler basement, there was rarely a day that this place didn't feel like home. In the 3 weeks since they graduated Will had found himself here every single day. And just like every other day, as soon as the car went quiet, the hand which had become a familiar weight against him squeezed his thigh. Pulling Will’s attention to the boy in the passenger seat.
“Thanks for driving,” Mike said, lips pulling together into a gentle smile, slightly too red against his pale skin from the hour they had spent pressed together behind the movie theater.
“No need to thank me,” he said, shrugging and undoing his seat belt with a click.
“No need?” Mike repeated dramatically. “Please. You always drive so I can sit back and enjoy the view.” He flirted, waggling his eyebrows obnoxiously.
“You say that like you weren’t digging through the glove box for half the drive.”
Aghast Mike's hand flew to clutch his chest, the other pointing at the pile of cassettes in the glove. “We needed a good soundtrack!”
“You know, in all the best movies, the cool heart throb always has some amazing soundtrack playing when they drive, I was just creating a cinematic atmosphere.”
Heat creeped up Will’s neck in what he was sure was a blush more cherry red than the icy they'd shared.
“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, ducking his head slightly so Mike wouldn’t see him smiling, unwilling to let Mike's ego grow so easily. But the other boy already had a triumphant grin on his face, and Will wanted to kiss his sugary, cherry red lips all over again.
The urge grew so great that Will had to break his own tension before they started doing something reckless in the Wheeler driveway. So instead Will snorted. “Trust me, I’m not driving to be nice to you. I’m driving to prevent a repeat of last time.”
“Hey! That was only one time!” Mike protested
“One time was plenty. You can’t exactly un-crash a car, Mike.”
“Whatever,” the taller boy scoffed, sinking lower into his seat as he grumbled something under his breath.
Will paid it no mind beyond enjoying the cute little pinch between Mike’s brows whenever he got like this. Still, it was far too hot to stay sitting in the car much longer, and Will would much rather deal with his pouting boyfriend in the comfort of the Wheeler’s air conditioned basement. Will reached for the door handle, only for Mike’s hand to suddenly shoot off his thigh, long arm easily stretching across the car to pull the driver’s side door shut again.
He blinked at the sudden movement, now faced with a lap full of Mike.
Mike’s brows only pinched further, irritated that Will was missing what he clearly deemed to be obvious. “Well, it isn’t very gentlemanly to make someone open their own door.”
Will couldn’t hold back his sigh, or the arch of his eyebrow that came with it. “Pretty sure it’s not gentlemanly to trap someone inside a vehicle either.”
But Mike was already climbing out of the passenger seat, ignoring him completely as he hurried around the front of the car. In moments the driver's side door was flung open. Mike took a dramatic bow that made his black curls bounce slightly around the tops of his ears and the hem of his navy shorts ride up. Exposing more of his pale skin to the unforgiving summer sun.
“My pleasure to welcome back Will the Wise, Hawkins greatest sorcerer!” Mike proclaimed.
It was completely stupid, and chivalrous, and sweet enough that this time Will didn't bother hiding his smile. Knowing those dark brown puppy dog eyes were carefully watching beneath dark lashes for his reaction.
“Thank you, Sir Michael,” Will purred back, biting down on his lip to try and subdue his expression even a little. But, taking in the tall boy in front of him, his grin spread so wide it hurt his cheeks.
Mike straightened up with what little suave he had, and with a great flourish offered his hand, as any true knight would to help royalty from their carriage. Will took it, his insides turned to mush, the Indiana heat had nothing on Mike Wheeler. A blazing fire spread from where their palms rested against each other. Their joined hands safely hidden behind the open car door, just in case someone was nosy enough to look out and see them. Again the feeling bubbled up, if they had been anywhere else, Will probably would have let Mike pull him straight into his arms, wrapped his own around Mike's slender waist, and kissed him breathless right there.
But they were parked in front of the Wheeler house.
And the living room window had its blinds open.
So instead he squeezed Mike's hand once, before slowly letting go. Their fingers dragged reluctantly across each other's palms before falling away completely. A heavy affection floating in the empty space between them and they smiled sorely at each other.
“Let's go inside, it's my turn to destroy you at Super Mario."
Mike snorted “Destroy me!? Bold words for the guy who has come in second every day this week! Come on!”
Mike was stepping out of his shoes as soon as they made it past the threshold. The beat up black sneakers bouncing where they were kicked onto the hard wood before landing half-hazardly. Looking into the living room, the TV was whizzing through ads, the volume not quite loud enough for anyone to hear besides the man who was only visible by the tuft of graying hair that showed over the top of his recliner.
Neither of them stopped to greet Mr. Wheeler. Will slipped out of his shoes more carefully, nudging both pairs against the wall so no one would trip before following Mike into the kitchen. Doing his best to keep up with his rambling about what Mike thought Nintendo should add to the Super Mario game play when they released the 4th game. Their conversation cut off but the sound of cabinet doors being shut.
“Oh! You’re back!” a warm voice called just as Will turned into the kitchen.
Karen Wheeler stood at the center, drying her hands on her linen pants, pots and mixing bowls lining the counter behind her. Her eyes bright with her greeting.
“Uhhh…yah...” Mike sighed. Already sounding exhausted with the possibility of a conversation.
Mrs. Wheeler squinted at him unimpressed, but didn't push it. She seemed to be happy today, makeup settled into her skin, and clothes done up in a way that suggested she had probably been out with some of her friends. Her bleach blond curls grown out a tiny bit, resting in a soft bob that was popular a few years earlier. In fact if Will remembered correctly, it was eerily similar to the haircut Nancy had gotten when she was a high school junior. Seeing her like this it was easy to imagine the woman Nancy would grow to look like. He debated mentioning it to Mrs. Wheeler, she would probably appreciate a compliment of looking young, but a new image popped into his mind instead. Except for his height and hair color, Mike had inherited most of his traits from his mom. Her brown eyes, her sharp nose, dramatic expressions, and slim build. Distractedly the thought bubbled up of Mike growing his hair out to have the same bob. Tickled him imagining all three Wheeler’s as triplets with identical haircuts. Mike would be horrified! He’d have to tell him about it! Or even better, draw it for him when they were down in the basement. Will did his best to hold back his laugh as he made eye contact with his boyfriend.
“We’re just gonna go downstairs,” Mike said quickly, shuffling toward the basement door. “Play some games.”
Mrs. Wheeler had already turned back to the bowls on the counter. “Sounds good, honey.”
But then Mike stopped so abruptly Will slammed into his back.
“Oh shit!” Mike exclaimed.
“Michael! Language!" his mom corrected reflexively.
But Mike was already making his way back to the upper floor staircase “Sorry Will! I think I left the game up in my room. I'll be right back, just meet me in the basement!”
And then he was gone, the sound of his feet thudding on the carpeted stairs all that remained. Will couldn't help but smile when Mrs. Wheeler sighed, exasperated with her own son.
“What are we gonna do with him?” she sarcastically asked, eyes meeting Will’s to find any hope for Mike, but Will could only shrug. Fairly certain any real answer he had to that question wasn't one Mrs. Wheeler wanted to know.
“Are you staying for dinner tonight, Will?”
“Yeah, if that’s all right Mrs. Wheeler.”
“Of course it is. It’s nice having a full table again now that Nancy’s away at college. Though I suppose you boys will be following her to New York pretty soon.”
Mrs. Wheeler never made Will feel out of place in the Wheeler household, which may be more hosting skills then parenting skills because Mike didn’t always feel the same way. But at least she tried, Will could appreciate that.
He lingered near the kitchen entrance, half listening to the never ending hum of domestic life in the Wheeler’s home. Wondering whether it would be rude to slip into the basement while it was clear that Mrs. Wheeler still wanted to make polite conversation, when a sudden flashing light caught his eye. The TV was too small to make out much across the living room but he could still see a blur of rainbow colors, stretching across the screen. Six vivid bands, so oversaturated it was surreal against the muted browns, and yellows of the house. It was like paint squeezed fresh from the tube, smeared through the mundane afternoon, barely contained within the rounded edges of the TV set. Beyond the back of Ted Wheeler's recliner, Will could make out fragments of a news reporter, and the dull blue news banner slapped along the bottom edge of the screen, detailing whatever he was reporting
Nothing Ted Wheeler watched on TV had ever benefited Will, not the magnum P I reruns, not the Sunday night football and definitely not the news. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from the rainbow. His whole body leaning into it, inching closer to catch the details. Until he stood at the bottom of the stairs, right where the living room carpet started. In almost the perfect position to claim he was just waiting for Mike to come back down.
The TV mumbled with a familiar serious and morally disapproving tone, and he was pretty sure he could piece out a few words from the newscaster whose face was turning purple as he ranted into the microphone. Something about degenerates, indecency and traditional family values. But he didn't consider it long enough to let it phase him as the camera panned out to reveal that the backdrop was actually the largest gay flag he'd ever seen. Stretched wide over a packed city street, held tightly by a dozen people proudly marching it through the crowd. Ted Wheeler clicked his tongue, lifting a black remote from the armrest. Will’s heart picked up speed as the volume bar filled.
Someone behind the newscaster with a microphone of his very own was announcing into the crowd “New York! We appreciate you coming out! Gay, straight, not sure!”
The newscasters eyes widened so much that Will could see the whites of them from all the way across the room, the man so furious it was almost laughable. But Will's voice caught in his throat. Because the whole crowd was out. People like him, freaks, degenerates, faggots, and people who looked nothing like him, people who were holding hands publicly, women kissing women, men in makeup, overflowing, and loud, and indecent, and radiant. Alive.
He took in the scene in complete awe. It was nothing like whatever the hell it was to stand in the living room of a small town house watching one of the men that watched you grow up grumble hateful things from the comfort of his recliner. Will choked down the urge to scream, to tell the newscaster and Ted to shut their mouths, at least long enough to let him enjoy the tail end of the flag as it was carried off screen.
The sun seemed hotter in New York City, the streets glowing with life. And save for the decrepit newscaster everyone’s eyes were full of joy, glued to the open road in front of them waiting for the next big thing. From the edge of the screen Will could see it too, something strange drifting in.
Suddenly dozens of pearlescent orbs appeared on the screen. Sunlight glittering over their curves. Strange clumps, like giant succulent red berries. Except they were moving through the air, floating in one great big rope. As more of it came into frame, he was struck with the realization that it was balloons. Hundreds, the rope continued, No, thousands of balloons, all bound together.
A great trail of them gliding through the streets. Moving in serpent like waves as if it were the body of a massive red dragon gracing the crowd of onlookers. Dozens of people reverently holding onto the great body to keep it from floating off.
Will had seen balloons a hundred times. Hasn't everyone? Balloons were for birthdays, graduations, promotions, anniversaries, and get well soons. Balloons were common, simple round things. But these… These were different. These were dragon scales, these were glittering and ethereal. Each one a capsule of air, holding another breath Will was allowed to take. Each one filling his lungs with an awe that could only be described as– as– what was that word Mike used in their campaign the other day? Oh right– seraphic.
As the massive rope of balloons was pulled through the streets of the city each block of vibrant color slowly transitioned to the next, red to orange to yellow to green, to blue to purple. And then it lingered, balloons still bobbing slightly as if the rise and fall of the dragon's deep breaths. While those below it slowly lifted their hands above their heads, fingertips pressing soft divots into the latex.
None of them looked at each other, and none of them spoke a word, before they released it together. Let the great dragons body lift from their hands, and take flight into the freedom of the June skyline. The giant balloon rope rose, floating up towards the heavens, beginning to arch up between the buildings, a balloon rainbow so high above the crowd it cast a shadow along the street, a path for the parade to follow.
A flamboyant voice hidden among the crowd began to scream “We want the whole city to know who we are and how proud we are!”
Will’s heart pounded in his chest, eyes wide.
“Disgusting.” Ted Wheeler spat.
And all at once the ugliness in the reporter’s voice became impossible to ignore.
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read the rest on Ao3!
authors note:
re-posting as an end of pride month celebration but also pride is forever moment !!!
alsooooo in the like really disheartening and frustrating wake of AI in fandom spaces EVERONEEEEEEE PLZ!! share the works you have made from ur own beautiful and freaky mindsssssss!
and a reminder FUCK AI!!! everyone is capable of creating on their own and you have to be brave enough and whimsical enough to try!! good or bad who cares!!! fans make fandom and thats what matters!! ill do another BBDH boost in mid july but if anyone is feeling like they need some anti-AI community to help them make their own stuff shoot me a dm!!
i am fighting my urge to make a think piece about it bc there are too many already LOL so instead some AI free byler fanfiction for u 🤲
more of my unfiltered fandom thoughts over on bsky
