Byler one shots

11 part 2

Will

"Please say it. Please, Mike, I - I need to be sure about this."

Will can tell he's squeezing Mike's hands too hard, but he can't let go. His heart throbs in his throat. He can't move. He can't sit still. Bursts of energy crawl along his skin, curl up his spine, unfold in the squirming pit of his stomach. He's been wishing, hoping, pleading, and now that there's a chance - now that there's a physical manifestation of his hopes right in front of him, warm fingers squeezed into Will's palms, saying things that Will never dared hope for - he's scared. So intensely, sickeningly scared that he's wrong. That this could all vanish again in an instant.

Mike takes a half-breath, lips parting just slightly as if he's about to say something, but then he stops. Adrenaline shoots from the pit of Will's stomach to the base of his skull. He needs Mike to say something, anything, just to break them out of this uncertain limbo.

The words keep playing in Will's head, over and over, looping as he picks through them for meaning.

I know Hawkins isn't always the best place for... people like us, but - if you want - we could try.

People like us. Us.

He said we could try, Will thinks, wildly, without quite meaning to. He said we could try.

He doesn't mean.

Can't mean.

Or.

Can he?

No. He can't.

But his voice - his voice had been so soft. The kind ofimpossibly soft that Will has only ever heard once before, when Mike repeated, "You said yes," in the shed.

Will wants to say yes again, more than anything, wants to scream it from the rooftops, but he has horrible visions of Mike leaping up from the bed and backing away in disgust. Head shaking. Eyes hard. Lips twisting in an expression of betrayal. "What's wrong with you?"Mike spits in Will's imagination, and Will's eyes flicker down to their joined hands for reassurance, and no, no, please no, not that -

He's holding on too tight. He knows he is. But he wants,and Mike's hand in his is the only physical evidence he has of that glimmer of hope. And he's desperate. After the Shadow, after everything, he needs something, a good thing, he needs -

Then he's looking into Mike's eyes again and something has shifted. It's only been a few heartbeats, but it feels like Mike has been silent for hours. Whatever thought that had been on Mike's tongue has faded now. His lips are closed, his eyes distant. He blinks, and all at once he's looking at Will the way he's always wanted him to. Soft and searching and intense, cheeks rounding with that gentle, crooked smile that's entirely Mike.

He's been chewing on his lower lip. Will can hardly think, but his mind catches on this little detail. There's a patch of shiny, raw skin, just off-center on Mike's lower lip.

"I love you."

A strong, small jolt goes through Will's body. This isn't what he expected. This isn't at all what he expected. He expected something like, "I think I might like boys, I don't know," or, more likely, "What do you mean? We're best friends. Just best friends. Let go of me." But instead -