Working on a Byler fanfic
Context: After possessing Vecna and hitting his head, Will stays in the radio shack for a bit
(He doesn't fall into a coma)
Will looks up from his sketch book when Mike enters the room. “Where is everybody?”
“Robin and Lucas went to check Max at the hospital.”
“Why didn't you go with them?”
“Well… I wanted to see if you're okay. I mean, you hitted the ground hard.”
“It wasn't that bad. I'm not fragile.” Will tease, looking back at his sketch book. “I don't need you to check up on me.”
Mike is silent for a moment.
“Yeah." He says flatly. "Sorry about that.”
He turns to leave and Will gets up.
“Wait!”
Mike looks back in a snap. “Yeah?”
“I wouldn't mind us hanging out.”
Mike smiles. Will had a folder in his head about the different smiles Mike was capable of sharing.
The sarcastic ones, when he teased Will, or rolled his eyes because of a joke too stupid to laugh at.
The polite ones, when he met someone new and tried to make an effort to be nice. Mike didn't do much of those.
But this one, this was the same smile he gave Will before he moved to California. The smile he kept repeating in his head everyday.
Shit. He can't do this.
He can chicken out! Pretend it like he has something better to do. Tell his friend to leave because he doesn't have anything to say! But Mike is not dumb. We'll, not that dumb. He can see Will fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater. How he bites his lips and avoids eye contact. His eye bags are still deep, dark, like he didn't sleep at all. Mike knows he didn't.
“You okay?” Mike asks.
“Y-yeah.”
“You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Will makes an effort to smile.
“We just- You know…” Will sighs. “Can we sit down?”
There was something adorable about seeing Will so nervous.
“Of course.” Mike points to the couch.
Will sits on one end.
Mike takes the other one.
Will looks at his hands, trying not to think about this huge space between them.
“We didn't talk much these past few days.” He begins. “So… How are you?”
