byler stories :)

Is that the tears or the rain?

A/N so this was the first stranger things fanfictions ive ever written also this was orignally posted on archive of our own :)

It's pouring rain. Literally pouring. Will's clothes were soaked through and his hair was a mess. He found it difficult to maneuver his way around the puddles, especially because of the tears in his eyes. He tried to blink them away but the memories of the day kept flooding his brain, and with them, the tears.

    All he wanted was to have fun like they used to. Just playing games in Mike's basement, getting so invested that they refuse to stop. Hours would go by and they'd still keep playing, despite interruptions by Mike's parents or his sister. Laughter would erupt when someone said something funny and they'd reference it the whole game. There would be aggravated sighs and fits of anger when they messed up, which was very often. Still, they'd be a sense of victory when things went their way and that was met with loud cheering. It was their thing. It was their game.

But now it's gone.

Will didn't show it but he felt their bored stares and mocking expression during the game he practically forced them to play. He pushed through because, maybe, just maybe, if they kept playing it would go back to the way it was. But it didn't. They didn't care. They only cared about their stupid girlfriends, they could barely even look at Will.

Especially Mike. Ever since Eleven came back, nothing was the same between them. Their conversations became limited as Mike's eyes went from Will to Eleven. He watched as Mike kissed her, and stared at her, and held her hand. He felt as if a knife was being twisted in his heart and he needed to look away, but he couldn't. They shared loving gazes and flirtatious words as Will just sat there, watching. Powerless to do anything, he watched his best friend move farther and farther away from him.

I guess he didn't only just want to have fun like he used to.

He also wanted Mike.

Will stopped his bike in the middle of the road and felt the rain crash on him as the realization hit. It hit him the same way that it had been for years. A sudden understanding of what he felt, and who he was.

This realization hit him even more recently.

He had been thinking of Mike before he slept, to give him comfort. He had been drawing Mike's face from memory in his sketchbooks. He thought about him during classes. He felt his heart flutter when they touched. He found himself staring at him.

He knew it wasn't normal but he pretended it was anyway. But, sometimes, it would hit him. It would hit him that this wasn't normal, that if Mike found out that he did this he would be disgusted, that everyone was right about him and he's just a stupid, queer, fairy. In his heart, he knew what he felt, but he shoved it away. He couldn't admit it to himself.

But, this time it hit different. This time, he couldn't push it away. It was pushed into his face without a second thought.

He recalled Mike's words, "It's not my fault you don't like girls".

Will got on his bike again, hoping to get the realization off his mind. But he couldn't stop thinking. How did Mike know? Did he catch Will staring? Did he even know or was he just innocently pointing out his lack of crushes? Either way, Mike was right. He didn't like girls. He was wrong about one thing, though. It was most definitely his fault.

Because, Will Byers was unfortunately and hopelessly in love with Mike Wheeler.

He was in love with his humor, the way he made Will laugh, even if he was really upset. He was in love with his kindness, the way he always stuck by Will through everything and made sure to cheer him up.  He was in love with his smile, the way it could brighten up a room. He was in love with his hair, which always looked so soft and easy to run fingers through. He was in love with his lips, so kissable and easy to daydream about.

Will stopped his bike again. He was in love with Mike. And Mike would never love him back. He felt tears roll down his cheeks and wiped them away. He couldn't stop crying no matter how hard he tried. His first contact with love and it was a gay crush on his painfully straight best friend. He just stood there, sobbing, holding onto his bike. He let out all his emotions into his tears. He didn't care about the rain hitting him. He didn't care about anything.

He picked up his bike and started to ride home, the sadness of unrequited love pressing on his chest.