Too Little, Too Late (Pt. 1)
Little two-part blurb of Officebyler, because I can't stop thinking about them. Based on Jim's love confession, and based on the song Too Little, Too Late by Laufey. Will is engaged to Carlton in this. This might become a full fic eventually. I swear part two isn't AS angsty.
"Hey," Mike stops Will just a couple of dozen feet from their respective cars. Everyone had gone home at this point. The event was over, and no one wanted to be at work after hours.
Except for Mike Wheeler. He always complained about this place, yet couldn’t stay away. Something always drew him back.
"Can I talk to you about something?" he asks, his voice wavering as icy dread crawls up his neck, clutching at his chest and knotting his stomach.
Will smiles like he always does, holding back a laugh. "Is it about all the money you owe me? Want to try for more?" he asks, his eyes shining in the moonlight. "I'm feeling pretty good tonight."
Mike swallows. He knows he can't keep this to himself any longer. Not when Will looks like that, brighter than the stars above them, with freckles scattered across his skin like constellations. Will's gaze had met his all night, warm and steady from across the old poker table, a kind of warmth Mike never got from anyone else.
"No, no... Just..." He trails off. The silence between them feels heavier than ever.
At last, he lets the words out of their cage.
"I'm in love with you..."
Mike watches as Will’s face falls, surprise giving way to raw vulnerability. His eyes go wide as he tries to take in those five words. For the first time, Mike can’t read him at all.
All Will can eventually choke out is a surprised, "What?"
Mike lowers his head, his throat tight with longing. He wants to believe nothing could hurt more than going back to how things were, but even that hope feels fragile under the weight of this conversation.
"I'm in love with you," he says again, a bit steadier this time. "I know this probably isn’t the best timing. I get that, I really do. But..."
He never finishes. The words fade as he stares down at the asphalt.
"What are you doing...?" Will’s voice trembles. He hugs himself and steps back, searching Mike’s eyes for reassurance. “What do you expect me to say to that?”
Mike knows it’s a fair question, even though he hates hearing it.
“I just... needed you to know. Once.” That’s the only reason he can give, because beyond that, he doesn’t have one.
After all these years of knowing Will Byers, sitting twenty feet away from him every day, Mike felt like his life was a movie he could only watch. If he didn’t try to reach out now, he wasn’t sure he could make it to the next quarter.
That’s what Steve had said, right? Mike couldn’t just wait for good things to happen.
Well, he wasn’t going to wait anymore, no matter what came of this.
Will blinks quickly and looks away, trying to find the right words. Mike waits, doing his best to ignore the fear building in his chest for a little longer.
Finally, after a few moments of stammering, Will looks at him again, a glaze now adorning his eyes.
Mike feels his eyes sting. He nods, lowers his head, and quietly says, “Yeah...” He always knew it would end like this.
Will quickly tries to soften the blow.
“How much your friendship means to me-”
“Don’t do that.” Mike stops Will mid-thought, looking up briefly to keep his tears at bay before letting them drift back to the beautiful boy in front of him. “I don’t wanna do that. I wanna be more than that.”
Sympathy flashes across Will’s face. His hands twitch, like he wants to reach out but stops himself. Somehow, that hurts even more. Just hours ago, Will’s arms were around him in celebration. Now, Mike wasn’t even afforded a comforting touch.
“I can’t...” Will repeats, this time pained.
Mike feels the first tear roll down his cheek and steps back. In his pain, he almost wishes Steve could feel this too. He has half a mind to go back into that party and make him understand it. What’s the point of chasing happiness if you never find it?
Will closes his eyes for a moment, threading his fingers together. “I’m sorry... if you misinterpreted things. It’s probably my fault.”
Mike gives a tight, pained smile. He steps forward, wipes away a tear, and starts to walk past Will. "Not your fault," he says, shaking his head. "I’m sorry I misinterpreted... our friendship."
With that, Mike heads for the sidewalk. He doesn’t hear any footsteps behind him. He doesn’t know how long Will stands there. He’s at the corner before he finally lets out the sob he’s been holding in.
