Byler First Kiss Scene Inspired by @hazaddd1223
The ropes bit into Will’s wrists, raw and red. His head hung low, sweat and dirt caked in his curls. The barn was still except for his ragged breaths.
Suddenly those doors burst open.
“Will!” Mike’s voice cracked as he stumbled inside, nearly tripping over his own feet. The flashlight clattered from his hand, beam skittering across the floor.
Will didn’t move. Didn’t look.
Mike dropped to his knees in front of him, chest heaving. His hands hovered helplessly, shaking in the space between them. “It’s me,” he rasped. “It’s Mike. I’m here.”
Slowly, Will lifted his head. His eyes were dull, glassy—like they weren’t even his. His lips parted with a rasp of air that turned into something bitter.
“You think I’d fall for it again?” His voice was hoarse, broken, but sharp enough to cut. “You’re not real. You’re never real.”
Mike’s throat closed. He crawled closer anyway. “No, no—listen to me. Will, it’s not him. It’s me. I’m real.”
Will turned away, jaw clenched tight. “Don’t.” His voice broke, thin and frayed. “Please, don’t. He uses your face. Your voice. He knows—” His shoulders shook. “He knows you’re the only thing that—” He cut off, chest heaving, unable to finish.
Mike’s chest caved. He saw it now—every nightmare Vecna had twisted, every time he’d used him as the blade to gut Will from the inside.
“God,” Mike whispered, broken. His hands flexed uselessly against his knees before he reached forward, cupping Will’s face.
Will jerked, tried to turn away, but Mike held steady, gentle but unrelenting. His thumbs brushed dirt from Will’s cheeks. “Will—look at me.”
“No.” Will squeezed his eyes shut, fighting. “I can’t. You’re not—you’re just another trick.”
“Then look at me and tell me I’m not real.” Mike’s voice shook but didn’t break. “Come on. Do it. Look at me.”
Slowly, like it hurt, Will opened his eyes.
Mike’s gaze locked on his, fierce and wet and terrified all at once. He swallowed hard, voice trembling. “It’s me. It’s really me. I came for you. I’ll always come for you.”
Will’s breath hitched, something cracking under the weight of his words. “Don’t say that.” His voice splintered. “He said that too. He said it like you. He said it until I believed him.”
Mike’s hands shook against his skin, but his eyes didn’t move. “Then believe me now. Because I mean it. I’ve always meant it.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “He doesn’t get to use me against you. Not this. Not what’s mine.”
Will’s lips parted, trembling, but no words came. His whole body shook.
Mike leaned closer, breath brushing his mouth. His voice cracked on the edge of breaking. “I’m here, Will. I’m here. Please—just… let me prove it.”
Silence stretched. Will’s chest rose and fell like he was drowning. His eyes glistened, locked on Mike’s, waiting, fearing, wanting.
And then Mike kissed him.
It was sudden, but not careless. Not a question, but an answer. His lips pressed against Will’s with a trembling urgency, pouring every unsaid word, every sleepless night, every secret he’d buried into that one collision.
Will went rigid, whole body stiff, bracing for the illusion to dissolve. But it didn’t.
The warmth was there. The shaky breath. The wetness of tears that weren’t his. Real.
Something inside him broke wide open. His breath tore out of him as he strained against the ropes, leaning in, answering the kiss with something desperate, starved, unstoppable.
Mike broke away only when air forced him to, his forehead pressed to Will’s, both gasping, the world spinning around them.
Will’s eyes searched Mike’s face, frantic and disbelieving. His lips trembled. “Y-you…” His voice cracked, thin and broken. “You really…?”
“Yes.” Mike’s answer came quick, fierce. “Yes. Of course it’s me.” His hands shook against Will’s face, but he held on tight. “I should’ve said it a long time ago, but—it’s always been you, Will. Always.”
Will let out a sound that was half a laugh, half a sob. His shoulders slumped against the ropes, tears spilling over. For the first time in weeks, his eyes weren’t hollow. They were alive.
“…Mike.” Just his name. Small, fragile. But it carried everything.
Mike leaned in and kissed him again. Slower this time, softer. Like a promise. His lips brushed over Will’s temple, his cheek, grounding him with every touch.
“I’m here,” he whispered, breath shaking. “Do you hear me? I’m here. And I’m not leaving you. Not ever.”
Will closed his eyes, trembling, and let himself believe it.
