𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝; byler

- ¢нαρтєя 7 -

MIKE STOOD FROZEN in place as he saw Will trying to get up, failing again and again. Finally, he managed to grab onto the railing and pull himself up, and stood wobbling unstably.

Mike moved another step towards Will. "Will, what are you-" he started. As soon as the words left his mouth Will turned to him, a dopey grin plastered across his flushed face.
"Mike!" He called, and made one staggering step before collapsing into Mike. Mike reached his hands out instinctively, stopping Will from tumbling head first into the ground. The mystery of Will's strange behavior was solved at once, Mike's theory confirmed; it was 3:30 am on a Thursday, and Will Byers was wasted. 

Either that, or he had behaved in a literal bath of vodka.
"Are you drunk?" Mike heard himself ask, although he didn't really need Will to say it.
"No, no! Your'e being silly," Will slurred, tracing a line down Mike's nose with his cold finger.
"Well, maybe just a little," the boy burst in laughter, a stronger scent of alcohol coming from his mouth.
Mike didn't really know what to do. It so wasn't like Will to drink!

"Can we go inside?" Mike asked softly, just then noticing the brunette was shirtless.
Will showed no response, still tracing Mike's face with his finger.
"You're pretty," Will breathed, and suddenly it was very hard for Mike to keep concentrated.But He had to get Will inside before he froze to death.
Mike opened the door with one hand.
"Can you walk?"
Will turned his glossy eyes to Mike, his gaze unfocused.
"I'm not a baby!" He said, pushing Mike away and making a step forward, before almost falling again. Mike hurried to catch him in his arms again. How the hell had Will made it home alive and where did he get alcohol? 
Mike opened the door with one hand and dragged Will inside, struggling to keep him from bumping into the walls. Will kept blubbering nonsense all the way, an occasional hiccup interrupting his speech. 

He half carried him into his room and Will collapsed on the bed. Mike left towards the kitchen, pouring Will a large cup of water. Should he be worried? No. After all, Will was 16, he could experiment if he wanted to... It was non of Mike's business.

 But he had gotten so used to protecting Will the urge was almost automatic. He wanted to hug him tightly until he woke up, then make him a cup of coffee and some breakfast and make him promise he'd never ever do this again. But as he went back to the room, cup of water in hand, he knew he couldn't. He didn't know if Will wanted him... that way, and he wasn't about to smother him, that was what had driven him from El in the first place, he didn't want to make the same mistake with Will! He should just let it go. Why were his instincts screaming at him that something was terribly wrong?
Mike stepped back into the dark room.

"Mike?" Will asked, and he sounded different now.. sad, barley more than a whisper.  His eyes were closed, and he had curled his legs into himself, his hair wet and sticking to his forehead. Why was his hair wet? It wasn't raining outside, and it was too cold for it to be sweat...
"Yeah?" Mike responded, placing the cup by the bed and sitting on the very edge of it.
"I can't anymore," Will said.
"Don't worry, it'll pass when you wake up." Mike said, resisting the urge to sweep a corner of the wet hair away from Will's face.
"I can't anymore," Will repeated, a tear streaming down his face. "I can't anymore, I can't anymore, I can't anymore..."
"Shhh, it's okay," Mike said, giving in and pulling Will closer. He felt Will's cold body flinch slightly in response before loosening up. He stroked his head, trying to get the boy to calm down. Was this still drunk ramblings? or was something truly wrong with Will?

A few moments later Will's whispers stopped and he drifted to sleep. Mike reluctantly got up, covering the still shaking boy with a blanket.
He was going to bring himself a blanket from Eleven's room and go to sleep on the floor besides Will, but the flash of headlights from outside caught his attention. He peered out the window, and a very familiar car was parked in the driveway.

 Fuck.

"Mom, I'm really sorry, I-" Mike started as soon as he opened the car door to his mom in a robe with curlers in her hair, a furious expression on her face.
"Get in Michael." Karen said, not looking at her son. Mike was about to protest, not wanting to leave Will alone at night, but he'd have to explain the situation to his mom, who would undoubtedly tell Joyce... Mike wouldn't do that to Will. He grimly got in the front seat and she started driving away, the car silent in the empty roads.
"Save it!" She said when Mike was about to open his mouth for an excuse or an apology (he wasn't sure yet).
"Grounded for three weeks. And your new bed time from now until further notice is  9:30 pm, with Holly. Clear?"

Mike nodded, not really caring. The only thing on his mind was the way Will's cold hand had stroked his face, how he had called him pretty...

He knew it was probably just because he had been wasted, but the faint possibility that he meant it, that Will really did think he's pretty, sent a pleasant chill down his whole body.