Ok but the fact that Nelyo lived so many years,being (canonically) the elf who fought more wars than any other,and no one but himself could end him its something that haunts me in many ways.
DUDE I KEEP GETTING SUDDEN SURGES OF JOY AND THEN GOING BACK TO BEING ALL MOPEY AND DEPRESSING WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WYY WHY WHY LET ME BE HAPPY FOR FUCKS SAKE
Gggggggghhhhhhhhhfbfbbb heh, you know what would make me feel better? Haha
no ok its fine lol hahahha
This was supposed to be a fucking art account dude 💔
I live laugh love for your Espresseliene drawings please never stop feeding us monarch, your art is like an oasis in a desert that I've been looking for for weeks
AWWWWWWWWW
Thank you so so so SO muchhhhhhhhh💖💖💖
I'n so glad their not only my hyperfixation ✨️✨️✨️
Haha I've never saw myself as an oasis, honest love the metaphor✨️✨️
AHHGGG I'M SO YIPPIE THANK YOUUUUU!!!!!!♡♡♡♡
I will never stop feeding youuuuuu ( and tbh im already working on another espresseleine thing so... muehehe)
byler fanfiction - 1970′s au - aged up character(s) - multi-chapter - no upside down/no powers
words: 7142
overall summary: Mike didn’t even want to go in the first place, honestly. El and Dustin managed to convince him to tag along despite his determination to refuse, and he was quite miffed, to be honest. He considered himself to be a pretty normal guy; a little anti-social, a bit uptight due to his conservative upbringing. But he was normal. And he was going to keep it that way, no matter what his friends tried to do to get him to loosen up.
But then he was stuck at a five day hippie-filled, groovy festival called the Midsummer Splendour, full of psychedelic music, drugs, peace and love. And he meets Will, possibly comes to some realisations that he wasn’t a very normal person after all, and finds friends that he would be bonded to for life.
It’s 1973, and Mike is completely, unequivocally, screwed.
author’s note: hiii gamers i hope u enjoy this chap !!! a lotta mike angst and internalised homophobia in this one not much byler content, though a bit at the start hjfkjkhdkj sorry bout that :( but things pick up towards the end eyy !!! i rly hope u enjoy this chapter anyway and please rb/comment etc as always !! ily all <3333
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Mike resurfaced to reality rather quickly to the sound of crackling, barely audible music. The first thing he’d registered was aching pain blossoming down his neck and shoulders, his bare feet stiff and cold as they hung over the end of the couch; he peeled his eyes open, squinting at the intrusive rays of sunlight, holding up a single hand to block it out before adjusting his position in order to look around, wincing when another dull stab of pain shot down his spine. There seemed to be this lingering grogginess and fuzziness in his mind, heavier and thicker than what was usual for him in the mornings, which he figured was a result of the weed from the night before.
He was in the exact same spot he had been in the night before, sprawled over the couch in Max, Will and Lucas’s caravan with his head up on one arm and his legs draped over the other, one arm hanging loosely over the edge, hand brushing the floor.
Glancing around, he took in everything in his surroundings - below, next to the couch, was the blanket that Mike had put over Will lying crumpled on the floor, and the art supplies he’d used to paint Mike’s jeans were scattered over the coffee table. It looked like Will had woken up and left. He hated the flat, deflating disappointment that settled in his stomach seeing him gone, like some small part of him wished he’d have been there when he awoke.
To his left, he noticed that Dustin was also missing from the armchair he’d fallen asleep in the night before, but Max and El were still sleeping together on the air mattress where they’d been whispering to each other. He studied their soft, sleeping figures for a moment, but the sound of crumpling paper to his right startled him and he whipped around.
Lucas was comfortably sunken in the armchair opposite where Dustin had been sleeping, a newspaper open in his lap and a colourfully painted mug in one hand, bringing the caustic, yet dulcet smell of coffee to Mike’s nose. He had his socked feet languidly kicked up on the coffee table, moving one foot back and forth to the beat of whatever song was quietly crooning out of their portable radio up on the windowsill, which he hadn’t noticed was the source of the music until then. He’d noticed Mike had sat up, and sent him a nod of acknowledgement and a smile before taking a careful sip of his brew.
“Long time no see, Grocery Boy. How was your sleep?” He let the paper drop limply into his lap so he could look at the other man properly. “Looked like you were pretty uncomfortable on the couch, you being eight feet tall and all.”
Mike snorts out a laugh, slowly bringing himself to a proper sitting position and sleepily running a hand through his hair. “Wasn’t too bad, really. I was the last one to fall asleep. But yeah, maybe if couches could be more accommodating to eight feet tall people, that’d be great.”
Lucas chuckled, smiling at him for a moment, before returning to his paper. “Well, that’s good, at least.” There was a pause between the two friends for a moment, before he continued: “Can you believe it’s the third day already? Feels like it’s going by so fast.”
Mike paused, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, drifting into thought for a few seconds. So much had already happened within two days.. he didn’t even know how that was possible, really. So much had changed for him, his views on certain things, his view on Will… “Yeah,” He finally spoke, glancing up to meet Lucas’s dark inquisitive eyes before staring back at the floor. “Feels like it’s been two weeks instead of two days. But at the same time, everything’s moving so fast, like you said.”
He could tell that Lucas was studying him in his peripheral vision. He didn’t really like the way it made him feel; like everyone knew something that he didn’t, like they knew he was lying, like they knew how he really felt about Will. It was hard enough to deal with on his own - he didn’t want everyone else involved in it as well.
“Anyways.” Mike cleared his throat, trying to disguise his anxiety, holding up his arm to check his watch for the time: eleven thirty in the morning. “Huh, later than I thought it was.”
“Yeah, well, we went to sleep pretty late.” Lucas shrugged, slowly flipping the page of the newspaper before idly scratching his chin for a moment.
Mike snickered. “You look like a middle aged dad from the fifties right now, if you discount the clothes. You’re sitting there reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee and your feet up.”
Lucas shook his head, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “And I make some comment about my kids being late for school, then I kiss my wife on the cheek after she lays down the breakfast she cooked for me.”
“The American Dream, apparently.” Mike leant back against the couch, his mind being brought back to his father for a moment. Who created the perfect nuclear family. A loving, stay-at-home wife who cooks and cleans, a dutiful working father and three model children all to grow into successful, important people. The perfect family.
“It’s all bullshit.” Lucas scoffed. “I just like to keep up with the happenings, anyway.”
Mike had to agree with him on that. In his dad’s eyes, he was certainly no model son. Especially if he knew what he thought about late at night and the fact that he’d just smoked weed with a bunch of people he’d only met two days ago.
The quiet, serene peace in the caravan didn’t last much longer, though, because only a couple seconds later did Dustin’s voice cry out (rather loudly) “Good morrow, fellow comrades!” and Mike and Lucas turned to see him and Will throwing open the back doors and climbing noisily into the caravan - well, mainly Dustin, as Will was clearly aware that El and Max were still sleeping and was doing his best to be quiet, unlike his oblivious partner - towards the lounge area.
“Shut up, you’re gonna wake them!” Lucas hissed, gesturing wildly to Max and El - and it seemed he had woken them up, because there was a loud groan and Max’s head of frizzy fiery hair lifted up to glare tiredly at Dustin.
“Asshole! I was having such a good dream..” Max grumbled. El only murmured something to herself and rolled over, burying her head further in the pillow, hiding from the sunlight.
Mike only had eyes for Will; seeing him standing there in a Grateful Dead t-shirt, usual lopsided grin on his face once they met gazes, baggy jeans and untied sneakers, fashioned that now-familiar breath taking excitement in his chest, head fluttering with nervous and shy thoughts, prompting a maniacal grin to overtake his face. Will grinned back with just as much force - his eyes alight with joy, he hurried past Dustin and eagerly hopped onto the couch beside Mike.
“It’s late, time to get up anyway. Chop chop!” Dustin clapped his hands together; Max only rolled her eyes, huffing, before flopping back onto the mattress.
“Hi,” Mike greeted Will rather breathlessly, not bothering to focus on whatever the others were doing; he cleared his throat again timidly, trying to swallow back his feelings, plastering an easy smile on his face and forcing himself to lean back. Act normal.
“Hi,” Will echoed, still grinning at him with that intoxicating fucking smile and Mike felt sure that he would float away. “You want some chocolate?” He continued, fishing out something from his pocket and holding it out to him; it was a small chocolate bar, the purple wrapping glinting in the sunlight as it lay in Will’s palm. Mike glanced up at his friend’s face in surprise, seeing Will smiling back at him. “Bought some for you on the way back.”
He bought something.. for me?
Mike blinked stupidly, stunned into dumb silence for a good few seconds - while he knew they were officially friends now, the idea that Will actively thought of him when he wasn’t around and had gone out of his way to get something for him, even when they’d only known each other for two days - was still bizarre. It made him feel… treasured.
However, his momentary hesitation unfortunately caused Will to retreat, about to slide the chocolate bar back inside his pocket, apparently unsure.
“I mean, only if you want it, I guess-”
“Yes!” Mike hastily interrupted him, reaching out to touch Will’s arm reassuringly. He swallowed thickly, taking in a deep breath in order to drive away the flutter in his stomach, forcing his hands back to his lap. “Of course I… I was just surprised that you.. Y’know.” There was a pause, as they both stared into each other’s eyes, Will’s eyelids fluttering slightly when he blinked. Mike’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. “Thought of me.”
He felt acutely aware of Max, Lucas and Dustin all clearly listening and watching their exchange, despite their attempts to make it seem like they weren’t - frustrated, and quite frankly, embarrassed that they were doing so, he sent them warning glares, angrily satisfied when they all hurried to look away and continue what they’d been previously doing. Even Dustin started to fucking whistle whilst he examined the pictures on the wall, like the unsubtle moron he was.
Turning back to Will, he was surprised to see that he was actually blushing, an adorable pink tinge across his cheeks and nose before he held out the chocolate again, hesitantly meeting Mike’s eyes. “Well, we’re friends now, like you said, right?”
“Yeah..” The other boy gently extended a hand to take it from him, making sure that his fingers brushed Will’s palm and fingers this time, no flinching away - when he met his gaze, eyebrows raised slightly, breath audibly catching in his throat, Mike smiled shyly at him and let go to put the bar in his own pocket, ignoring the million alarm bells ringing in his mind and his heart battering his ribs. “Friends.”
For a second, Will only stared at him - then, in his beautiful and charming way, his mouth curled up in an adoring smile, ducking his head a little to look up at the other boy through his lashes, a clear emotion visible in his eyes that struck excitement and not just a little fear into his heart.
“What do you guys want to do today?” Max’s voice interrupted the strangely fragile silence, prompting the two men to almost leap away (mainly Mike) from each other as if they’d been burned, focusing resolutely on the floor, instinctive terror clutching its iron grip around his chest. Fuck, it was like he was fifteen with a crush on El all over again - awkward and fumbling, shy, sweet. He was twenty-two, for Christ’s sake! An adult! He should be better at this by now.
He lifted his head slowly, glancing back at Will; he watched him smile and talk with Lucas, listening to his quiet laugh at something his friend said, like nothing had happened in the first place.
But.. it was different this time, he knew that. Will was different. In more ways than one. It was still new to him, what was blossoming between them, not to mention wrong, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Of course that would make it harder.
Slowly getting to his feet, Mike stretched his long arms up above his head to stretch, his spine and shoulders popping in a pleasing way; he felt a gaze burning holes into his side, but when he glanced instinctively at Will, he wasn’t looking at him. Nervously chewing his bottom lip, he brushed it away; it was probably nothing.
Rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes, he rounded the couch and made his way to the back of the van, bare feet cold against the linoleum floor - he glanced over to see Max and El were fully awake now, sitting pressed up next to each other on the mattress; the latter still had a blanket draped over her shoulders, gaping her mouth in a yawn, while the other had the leftover potato chips from the night before and was trying to throw and catch them in her mouth.
“Hey, Mike.” El greeted him with her usual soft, demure smile, doe eyes peering up at him from below. Max stared at him for a couple of seconds, a rather interesting expression on her face; when he made eye contact with her, she quickly glanced away and pretended to focus on something else. “How’s things?”
“Good, good, every single one of my limbs hurt from sleeping on the couch.” He smiled at her, directing his gaze outside to get a glimpse of what was going on. It seemed like they were about to start the daily performances, since it probably was almost midday now, and there were still plenty of people moving about, their voices loud and piercing in the air. The weather was still humid and sultry, but there was a host of dark brooding clouds gathering on the horizon, bringing the smell of rain - it most likely was going to storm that night, and tomorrow, too.
“Well, if you’d just gone and laid down on the spare mattress right here,” Max gestured towards the vacant mattress next to theirs with a sarcastic raise of her eyebrows. “Maybe you wouldn’t be complaining.”
Mike rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. “I was high, alright, I didn’t exactly have that foresight before falling asleep.”
Max’s face relaxes into a smile after that; she nudges his leg with her foot, mimicking Mike by leaning back against the armchair behind the mattress.
“I’m just teasing you, dumbass. I’ve been secretly planning on buying a better couch anyway, ‘cause Lucas found that one on the side of the road when our original one broke and it’s shit.”
He smiled back at her, chuckling at that anecdote (he felt like it was probably typical of Lucas); but before they could say anything else, El intervened in their conversation by saying:
“Mike, what’s all that on the side of your jeans?” She was frowning as she examined them, probably not able to see what it actually was from where she sat.
“Oh, Will painted some stuff on it last night.” Mike glanced back down at his jeans; his chest fluttered, visions of Will’s deep, onyx eyes focusing swam to mind, the feeling of his hands, deft and nimble, brushing against him as he held his leg still whilst he painted, insatiable lips parted, the desperate need he felt to kiss him.. he couldn’t stop the fond smile from forming, tracing one of the flower-eyes with a gentle finger.
“He always loves doing that. It’s so cool.” Max grinned.
Mike fixed his gaze back on El again - she was already looking at him, a coy smile on her face like she knew exactly what he’d been thinking about, and he felt his entire face flush a bright red.
“But, y’know, it’s whatever. It’s just some paintings.” He anxiously hurried to add, staring at El with an almost pleading expression like he was begging her to not think he was like that, because he couldn’t have anyone else knowing, especially after he’d began to give up hiding it from himself. And suddenly, more words were spilling from his mouth, like his subconscious was willing to go above and beyond to prove that he was straight, that he was normal - “It’s not like it’s the Mona Lisa or whatever.” He forced out a laugh that he knew probably sounded faker than Dustin’s hate for disco music.
Max and El both stared at him for a good five seconds after that - Max seemed half-offended on her friend’s behalf, half- completely disbelieving his words for a single second, and El had adopted this kind of melancholic, pitying look, like she felt bad for him because he had to lie, or some bullshit like that. He had to get out of there.
“Okay!” He announced rather loudly, clapping his hands together; it caught the attention of the others who were gathered on the other side of the van, and he glanced over at Will for a split second - he was looking at Mike in a kind of concerned way, having clearly taken note of his expression (he probably looked like he’d seen a ghost or some shit) and he had to basically wrench his eyes away. “I’m going to get some stuff from the tent. I’ll be back,” he then promptly jumped out of the back of the van onto the ground and strode away, in the direction of their tent. It took everything in his power not to sprint the moment he stepped out of the van.
He hated how obvious he was probably being. He’d already had multiple freakouts in full view of all their friends, and his interactions with Will that they’d seen were suspicious as hell.. no matter how hard he tried to be subtle, it never seemed to work. He had to stay away from Will, at least for a little while.. just so he could properly work through his feelings and maybe, they’ll stop picking up on it and he can be left in peace. He couldn’t take another second of the curious eyes and knowing smiles like they all knew exactly what he was thinking about. They didn’t! They had no fucking idea…
He slowly descended onto his knees, gripping the tent door zipper so tightly his knuckles went a sickly white. He sucked in a shaky breath, letting his eyelids fall shut, trying to calm down; everything was fine. They hadn’t asked about anything yet. And if they actually knew, they’d probably hate him, right? They wouldn’t be smiling at him like everything was well and good and nothing was wrong with his and Will’s relationship if they actually knew the truth. It just .. never worked out like that. They didn’t know. He was okay.
“Are you and Will friends now?”
Fucking hell, people had to stop sneaking up on him.
He sprang to his feet, spinning around to see it was El, in fact, standing in front of him, most likely having followed. She was smiling as she met his gaze, though her previous pitying expression still lingered, and he hated it.
Without really intending to, he threw up his guard and tensed his muscles, like he was preparing to run the moment there was any danger - an invisible brick wall between him and El, protecting him from whatever interrogation was inevitably about to occur. He just hoped he wouldn’t lose her if she knew what was going on with him; she was his best friend. He didn’t want her to leave because of it.
“Yeah, kind of..” He began carefully, careful not to fidget and give away his anxiety. “What about it?” He leant back down to open the tent door, crawling inside the tent in order to get to his bag, searching through it just to give him something to do.
“You guys seem pretty friendly,” She adopted a teasing tone to her voice, poking him on the back and lightly pinching his arms whilst he moved around. His heartbeat picked up, hammering against his ribcage in terror.
“El, stop,” He brushed her off, avoiding her insistent gaze as he continued rummaging through his stuff. He knew he was probably being overly defensive, but he couldn’t help it; the instinctual fight-or-flight fear was the only thing that drove him forward. And it was for good reason - not very many nice things happened to people like him.
She relented her teasing, at least; but after a few seconds of silence, feeling her eyes boring into his back, he turned around to see her staring at him with wide, concerned round eyes, her mouth curling sympathetically; she looked like she wanted to reach out to touch him, but held back, hands curling into fists.
“Mike…” El began, taking a tentative step forward. “Is there something going on between you two? Like.. more than- than friends?”
He stared at her for a second. His fears were being confirmed, basically. Fucking hell.
“No!” He shook his head a little too frantically; words he didn’t even really want to say began to spill from his lips in a clumsily defensive way, because he couldn’t let them know the truth. He couldn’t. “I can’t believe you’d ever think I’d be one of them,” He spat out the words like they were some kind of poison. He hated the way El flinched, taken aback by his vehemence, a sad hurt glimmering in her round eyes as she stared at him. Regret boiled in his stomach, but he knew it was too late to take it back.
“Mike, please, calm down-” She attempted to reach out and touch him, probably trying to comfort him, but he ducked to avoid her, violently throwing his bag over his shoulder.
“No. Just leave me alone,” He got to his feet and marched past her, ignoring the devastated look on her face, just managing to miss knocking her side with his own, determined to get away - he didn’t even know where he was going to go, just making sure it was going to be far away…
He was almost surprised, but relieved, that she didn’t call after him. If she did that, he had a feeling that his resolution would crumble and he’d collapse into a fit of tears at her feet.
He couldn’t see where he was going, just his feet basically running across blurry grass, not paying attention to anything else around him. His mind was racing at a hundred miles a second, filled with taunting, horrific thoughts, telling him that he was disgusting and everyone knew it now, and how El and Dustin probably wasn’t ever going to speak to him again, especially after he’d talked to El that way; and they might even tell Max, Lucas and Will, and Will would be appalled that Mike, the gross queer boy, had developed a crush on him, and he knew that would be the last straw. Will could never, never find out.
He finally resurfaced from his thoughts when he found himself standing at the driver’s door of his car, holding his bag rather limply in his hand, staring blankly at the window. Lifting his head, he rather stupidly glanced around at his environment. He was at the parking lot, the camping area already miles and miles away, and hundreds of people were all moving about around him, going to one place or another.
A couple of them who were closest to him glanced at Mike as they went past, and he grew more and more afraid with every second that went by. In his panic, his mind began to alter his vision to where he saw judging looks on the people’s faces, like even they knew what he really was and they despised him for it. It was as if a stage spotlight had been positioned right on top of him, up on a pedestal for the entire world to observe and strip of all his secrets.
I really can’t do this.
He rushed to fish out his keys from his pocket, unlocking his car and basically throwing himself inside, sticking them in the ignition. He had to get out of there. He had to get away, he couldn’t stand the looks, the underlying feeling that everyone knew the truth; which couldn’t be right, could it? How on earth could they have found out about his feelings?
But the paranoia was getting to him.
Reversing out of his spot, Mike basically floored the accelerator and tore out of there, out onto the road and leaving the festival behind him.
His thoughts were swirling all around him like noxious clouds that he couldn’t seem to shake off, no matter what he tried to do - how on earth was he going to come back from this? He’d tried so hard, oh so hard, to rid himself of these kinds of things long ago, but now it was all coming back to haunt him and he didn’t know what to do. What if he really did lose all his friends, if gauging on what El had said to him, they had figured it out already? He couldn’t have them leave his life. They were his best friends, he needed them so badly. Without them, he’d be lost like he was in a life raft strewn out in the middle of the ocean, with no hope of land.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck..” Mike was muttering repeatedly under his breath, his vision blurring and smearing with what he knew was tears - he wondered belatedly if this is what it felt like to have a panic attack. Barely able to suck in breaths in his rattling lungs, feeling like an anaconda was wrapped around his chest and squeezing so tight his vision popped.
There was a piercing horn from a car ahead of him that tore him from his thoughts, and his stomach dropped in terror - he was on the complete wrong side of the road, going ninety miles an hour and seconds away from colliding head on with a car speeding straight for him.
“FUCK!” he bellowed, swerving violently to the left and clattering out onto the grass out of harm’s way, saving himself just in time; he slammed his foot on the brakes, jolting forcefully to a stop, banging his head right into the windscreen, but just managing to stop it from being a bad enough blow to break anything.
He sat there, completely frozen, hands clutching the steering wheel so tightly it physically hurt, his forehead throbbing painfully (and probably bleeding) for what must’ve been about a minute - the only sounds being his ragged, whimpering breaths coming fast and short and the distant noise of traffic - trying to recover from what had happened - or, more specifically, what had almost happened.
Jesus Christ, he’d come so, so close to accidentally killing himself. He couldn’t believe he was so damn stupid enough to not pay attention to where the hell he was going or what he was doing, just because of his own pathetic, whiny, self-pitying problems. What the hell was he thinking?!
Mike slowly curled up into a foetal position, burying his head in between his knees, doing his best to calm himself down and steady his breathing, because he was sure if he kept hyperventilating like that he was going to pass out. He really needed to be more careful.
He sat there for a long, long time until he felt placid enough to slowly lift his head up from his position, though still keeping his knees pressed up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them protectively. Cars continued to zoom past him on his right, sometimes bringing wafts of music and laughter; he felt sweat gathering on his temples and the back of his neck, feeling rather claustrophobic in the stuffy, boiling heat of the car. He turned on the air conditioner in order to cool himself down a bit.
As he slowly became more aware of his surroundings, he realised that his face was quite wet. Reaching up a hand, he tentatively rubbed a finger under his eye to see he’d been crying - when did that happen? He hadn’t even noticed. And, examining his forehead in the rear view mirror, he saw there was a minor gash on the right, bleeding slowly, a couple of thick crimson drops staining his jeans. Glancing down, he saw that he was still wearing the jeans Will had painted. And his flannel, too, was still comfortably hugging his back, bringing the barely noticeable scent of fresh soap.
“God,” He whispered, hoarse and broken, utter despair sinking his stomach down to his feet, tears blurring his vision again. He couldn’t believe he was in this dire of straits, all because of Will and his stupidly beautiful smile, his beautiful laugh, his beautiful round eyes and his deft, talented fingers… he angrily swiped away the tears threatening to spill.
He wasn’t queer. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He’d vowed to suppress all that a long time ago.
But now that he’d met Will, everything was flooding right back to him like a tsunami he couldn’t ever escape, and he was all confused again.
He suddenly hated the damn festival that had been the catalyst for all of this fucking shit, and he hated his friends for making him go, and he hated all those damn druggy hippies and Will…
He stopped himself.
No, he didn’t hate Will. He couldn’t hate Will. He was so sweet, kind, selfless, stubborn.. stunning in every way. He was seriously amazing; nothing like Mike. It wasn’t his fault that Mike was like that. And he felt terrible for snapping at El - she hadn’t done anything wrong, she’d only tried to help him. But he just wished he didn’t need to be helped.. he just wanted to be normal.
Aching for a cigarette to calm his frayed, troubled nerves, he fumbled through his pockets until he found his pack and lighter, shakily prying open the pack to slip one out - dropping it twice with how badly he was shaking, unable to focus properly - and stick it between his lips, trying the lighter five times in a row before he finally got it to work. He took in a large lungful of smoke, sighing it out in relief, curled up in the driver’s seat and leaning his head against the window.
He didn’t know what to do anymore.
Maybe if he’d had this realisation earlier on, he would’ve been able to distance himself from Will and shield himself from emotional damage, but now he felt he was in too deep. He didn’t even want to stay away, really, after having learned how good of a person Will was.. but he couldn’t let himself fall back into this all over again! He’d been suppressing it for this long.. yet, in the end, it was probably going to come back to taunt him eventually. He definitely knew he couldn’t hide from it any longer.
For now, he figured that the best he could do in the situation was act normal, but keep his distance from Will as best as he could without raising suspicion. Don’t let anyone know. It should be fine, right? It’ll be fine..
He sat there for a long, long time after that, doing nothing but almost chain smoking the entire pack of cigarettes he had, head against the window and staring hollowly into the distance, focusing on nothing but putting the cigarette to his lips, stubbing it out when it was finished, then lighting another. Repeat, repeat. The sun arced its way across the sky in the meantime, storm clouds inching ever closer to unleash waterfalls from the heavens, a constant reminder of the relentless passage of time, stopping for nothing or anything.
When he finally found it in himself to actually resurface, remembering he was a person who existed and his friends were probably worried sick after he disappeared without a word for several hours - checking his watch, he nearly choked on his second last cig seeing it was already five in the afternoon, and the next big band was going to start their performance in two and a half hours. He couldn’t believe he’d wasted nearly the whole damn day moping.
“Shit,” He muttered aloud, stubbing his cigarette out on the ashtray and switching the car back on, jolting in surprise when his exhaust pipe sputtered loudly, spewing out filthy black smoke.
Gripping the steering wheel again, he apprehensively eyed the road next to him, preparing to turn back around to return to the festival; luckily, it was deserted, but he still had to take a good thirty seconds to actually gain enough courage to go through with his plan. He definitely wasn’t going to forget his near death experience anytime soon.
It was quite hard to find a park again by the time he got back there, due to how crowded it was as people had begun to gather for the main concert; he lingered in his car for a few seconds, anxiety churning in his stomach. He knew his friends were going to ask uncomfortable questions about what had happened and why he left, and he didn’t really know what excuses he was going to make in return. He’ll just have to try and make up something.
He felt incredibly awkward upon arriving back at the camping area; outside the caravan, Dustin was endlessly pacing back and forth, clearly anxious and frustrated, whilst El stood just outside the doors, shaky shoulders rising and falling with a hand over her face, expression hidden from view - Max, Lucas and Will were all perched side-by-side on the lip of the van, and while Max and Lucas weren’t as troubled as his closer friends were, they were still clearly concerned. Will, on the other hand, probably could’ve passed as calm and collected, but his eyes were wild and he was destroying his fingernails, his leg constantly bouncing up and down. Guilt tore at his chest like thick claws. He wondered how long they’d been waiting.
“Mike!” Dustin’s voice tore through the tense silence between the six friends, being the first person to have noticed his return - they all whipped their heads around to spot Mike awkwardly standing there, bag still slung over one shoulder, head ducked slightly in order to half-hide his face from sight. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Will basically jump to his feet, staring at him with wide eyes like he’d grown three heads.
“Uh.. hey guys.” He forced an awkward laugh, hesitantly giving them a wave, then immediately cringing at himself afterwards.
“Where the hell have you been?” Dustin exclaimed, gripping Mike’s shoulders rather violently and staring into his eyes as if the answer to his whereabouts were hidden somewhere within. “You just left, like, five hours ago!”
“Mike, holy shit, what’s that on your forehead?” Will was by his side in seconds, his lovely eyes filled with fear as he reached up a gentle hand to ghost the gash on his forehead. Mike just managed to stop himself from flinching away, barely able to meet the other boy’s eyes.
“Nothing, just.. hit my head.” He deflected; clearly, none of them believed him, especially Will - he felt even worse when El wasn’t coming close to him, knowing it was a result of their earlier spat and she was still hurting. He caught her eyes over his friend’s shoulders, seeing the conflict in her expression, silently pleading for her to understand, to at least know he didn’t mean it.
“Mike, seriously, where were you? You scared us half to death.” Dustin caught his attention again, but his anger seemed to have dissipated, replaced with a sad kind of sympathy that unnerved him.
“I-I’ve just been, y’know, back in the local town. Look, it’s not a big deal, alright?” He gently pushes their hands away from him; Will was still in such close proximity to him, raising the hairs on his arms and speeding up his heartbeat. As much as he tried not to, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. “I don’t need to explain myself to you guys all the time. I-I.. I’m sorry for scaring you guys, but I just- needed some time away.”
He despised the way everyone looked at him after that; knowing he wasn’t telling the truth. Thankfully, though completely unexpectedly, Max diverted everyone’s attention away from the conversation.
“Guys, just leave him alone, alright? Let’s get ready for the concert.” Max got to her feet, making her way further inside the caravan - when she glanced back at Mike, he sent her a grateful, though tight-lipped smile, and she briefly smiled back, turning away again.
Subsequently, everyone moved on from that particular conversation, and Mike was thankfully left alone. Not for very long, though, because a gentle hand wrapped its fingers around his wrist, and he spun around to see Will, gazing at him with oh so soft eyes, lips curling up in a brief sympathetic smile.
“You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to, but… let me at least treat the wound on your forehead.” He offered.
Mike hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek nervously. He was right, he should at least clean it up, in case it got infected or something like that. And he knew he’d just vowed to try and keep his distance with Will as best as he could, but seeing his face in front of him, basically angelic, feeling his thumb delicately brush the inside of his wrist, his resolve was rapidly crumbling.
“Okay.”
Will’s lips curled up into a smile - Mike couldn’t resist smiling back.
“Stay here. Be back in a moment.” He squeezed his wrist, once, and hurried back towards the van, disappearing inside - Mike watched him go, a strange longing tugging on his chest, like an invisible rope tied his heart to Will, trying to draw him closer.
Glancing about, he noticed El still stood next to the van, staring at the ground, clearly deep in thought. Another pang of guilt coursed through his chest; he had to properly apologise to her. It wasn’t fair what he’d done.
“El,” He began, making his way over to her, tentatively touching her arm to gain her attention. She glanced up at him, surprised, before she relaxed and smiled slightly.
“Hey, Mike-”
“I’m sorry.” He burst out, before she even had the chance to finish her sentence. “What I did was really shitty. I just-” He stopped himself, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, desperately searching for the right words to say without outing himself. “I’m just going through some.. stuff. Right now.” She raised a singular eyebrow, smirking, her expression basically screaming ’You don’t say,’ to which he sighed out a chuckle. “Yeah, I know. But I didn’t mean to be rude to you. I swear.”
“I know, Mike. It’s okay.” She smiled softly again, gently brushing her hand along his arm in a comforting, forgiving gesture, and he was utterly relieved. “I just think you need to remember..”
“What?” Mike blinked, frowning at her; when her gaze drifted over to the entrance to the van, he followed it to see Will dropping nimbly down onto the grass, grinning and saying something in response to a quip from Dustin. His heart ached terribly.
“You’re not as completely doomed as you might think.” El’s eyes shone; her smile was warm, kind, and Mike stared, dumbfounded, as she glanced once between him and Will before walking away, back into the van.
“Hey,” Will reappeared at his side. He had a first aid kit cradled in his grasp, his usual lopsided smile on his face; he jerked his head in the direction of Mike, El and Dustin’s tent. “We can do it over there, so we’re not crowded by the others, if you’d like.”
Mike swallowed thickly. Was El somehow implying that… Will could possibly be reciprocating his affections? That he might actually like him back? His mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a dumbfounded fish out of water, not having a single clue on what to say.
“Y-yeah, sure. Okay.”
Will tilted his head slightly, obviously picking up on his sudden ungainliness, but he only nodded and led the way - Mike just managed to remember how to actually move his legs and stumbled after him, his thoughts whirling and hurtling like a tornado in his brain.
But Will couldn’t be like him. He was sure of it. He wasn’t disgusting like Mike was… but- he still couldn’t help but hope. Because - because maybe he wouldn’t be alone in it anymore. If there was someone actually like him. And.. of course he would love for Will to actually return his affections, the concept alone was like the most wonderful dream turned true.. god, just thinking about it made his head spin, feeling like he could just float like a lonely balloon into the sky.
He observed from a shy distance as Will raked his gaze along their little camping area, before ducking down to crawl into the tent. Fuck. If Will actually liked him back.. Holy shit holy shit holy shit oh fuck holy shit-
“It’s a nice little setup,” He complimented with a smile directed Mike’s way. When he noticed Mike standing stiff and completely frozen in the exact same place, eyes wide and his entire face burning like it had been set on fire, he halted in his movements, frowning and surveying him. “Mike, you alright?”
Mike clenched his fists so tightly together it hurt. Oh god. Now was not a good time for a gay panic.
“Yup.” He squeaked out, forcing himself to loosen up. There was no definitive proof yet. He couldn’t get his hopes up that much. He shot a smile at Will, assuring him he was fine, and followed him into the tent.
For now, he had to leave it aside, enjoy his time with his friends, then maybe.. he could get to the bottom of it tomorrow. Because if this was an actual opportunity… there was no way he was letting it go to waste.
As he watched Will carefully open up the kit, thorough and meticulous as he cleaned the gash and patched it up - like Mike was precious and worth protecting - his soft eyes dark and inviting in the cramped, stuffy tent, he formed a plan in his mind. He was going to find out the truth about Will to the best of his ability. No matter what. While he doubted someone as ethereal as Will would ever be interested in a dud like Mike, he still had to know. He had to know he wasn’t alone in this.
I finished watching seabound and I cried really hard but. I remember someone talking about how Ronin wasn't at Nya's' funeral, and. No??? he was there he was just in the background(sorry for bad quality its from youtube)
