Byler one shots

36

this is the mixtape will makes for mike’s 17th birthday. it’s the summer after junior year, several months after they’ve figured out the boyfriends thing to some degree. they don’t hold hands at school— it’s still 1988, still indiana— but the extended party (including their older siblings, steve, and robin) are safety, family. they have other family, too: joyce has been a second mom to mike for these few years, through everything. some weeks mike spends more time at the byers’ house than his own. everything that happened in ‘83 and ‘84 makes it easy to feel uncertain about the future— how much time any of them might have together, if someone might get stolen away. but will and mike take care of each other, rely on each other, like they have since kindergarten. if you think about it, nothing’s really changed at all.

starman— david bowie
when will was in fourth grade, jonathan listened to the ziggy stardust album all the time, so by proxy, so did will and mike. will’s favorite song was hang onto yourself, but mike liked starman; he’d ask jonathan to play it every time he came over, humming along while he and will built a fort, or read a new comic with their heads squished next to each other. in his box of old art, will has a drawing of mike floating in a star-filled sky. mike’s eyes are closed, but he has a smile on his face. will’s never shown it to mike, but he’s always meant to draw a new version. someday he will. but today he copies starman onto the mixtape, humming the chorus under his breath.

faith— george michael
this song had come on the radio when the party was driving with steve last winter, when he was home on break and they were all going to the arcade for old times’ sake. steve turned up the volume and sang along enthusiastically, tapping on the steering wheel. will looked back from the front seat and saw mike bobbing his head along, and made a mental note of the song. it was an excellent song; will tapped his fingers on his knees as steve sang off-key and max and dustin approximated the lyrics from the backseat. the song makes him think of the party all being together now, including steve. it’s a good feeling, and mike still dances (dorkily) whenever will puts the song on.

care of cell 44– the zombies
mike loves this song. he pretends not to because it’s old and sappy and sounds like someone’s dad would think it was the best song on earth, but he listens to it constantly, clicking the tape in and bobbing his head when he gets dressed, does homework, plans campaigns. he accidentally played it when will was over once and tried to play it off as his dad’s, but will loved it too. it is sweet and sappy, but sad too— very mike. and it’s a really good song, anyway, made even better because it makes mike happy. will puts it on the tape.

good old-fashioned lover boy— queen
one friday in the fall of ninth grade, will was home alone, sitting in jonathan’s room and listening to records. jonathan had shown him a few queen songs the day before, and will loved them more than anything. he pulled one of the albums out and chose the first song he hadn’t heard yet. he had to stop the record after a minute and check if what he was hearing was right. was freddie mercury singing about a boy? could people do that? he hit play again and sunk onto jonathan’s bed, reading the lyrics inside the album sleeve. his heart beat quickly. it was about a boy. will walked around in a daze for the rest of the day, the lyrics running through his head. it’s one of his favorite songs now, but he’s never shown it to mike before, not wanting mike to… figure him out, figure out what he thought about, who he was. will puts it on the mixtape with a clear head now. mike will understand. (and he does.)

got my mind set on you— george harrison
will puts this on the mixtape mostly as a joke. every time he and mike hear it, they laugh about how dumb it is. but it’s honestly really catchy, and they catch themselves humming it when they’re hanging out in castle byers, making eye contact and bursting into laughter. secretly will thinks it’s a sweet song, and it’s funny, so he puts it on. mike smiles when he listens to the mixtape and hears the first whomping drums. secretly he thinks the same thing.