Homophobic! Mike x Will

Chapter 4

Third Person POV

"That was a mistake," Mike sighed in agony the next morning, his head pounding, "last night feels like a fever dream."
"Yeah," Will laughed in response, pressing his head into the pillow.
Though it wasn't enough to make them sick by any means, the regret of drinking alcohol was quickly catching up to them in the form of a headache.
"Heck, I barely remember what happened."
"You professed your undying love for me," Lucas said with a stupid grin as he blew kisses, Mike pretending to gag in the process.
"As if," he laughed with disgust. Will giggled as Dustin rubbed his hands against his eyes.
"But Mike," Lucas cried with tears, "I thought we had something."
"That's just not right," Mike further insisted, as Will's laughing suddenly went dry.
"Yeah," he said hesitantly with a chuckle, "that's gross."
"I'm not drinking ever again," Dustin said, as Mike nodded, falling back into his pillow.

"Thanks for having me Mrs. Wheeler," Will said brightly, as Karen smiled at the boy.
"Don't mention it, have a good rest of your day, Will."
"See you, Mike,"
"Yep,"

Will couldn't erase it from his mind.
Sitting himself in Bob's car, he felt an increasing dread inch through his throat as Mike's words wrapped themselves around his heart.
"That's just not right,"
That... what did he mean by 'that'?
A heavy regret crawled through his stomach as he reflected on his response.
"That's gross."
What did 'that' mean?

"You alright, Will?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just... sad I had to leave,"
Bob laughed, turning the corner as Will smiled at him, scratching the back of his neck.

Will's POV

Since I'd left Mike's house, my body felt as if it was constantly itching. Like something was trying to get out, but everytime I tried to relieve it it would only get worse. It would feel as if I was burning, instead. Sitting at my bed that evening, like a living statue, I tried opening the window to see if it would help.
My mind felt blank, and I couldn't describe it. Like, I was forgetting all of my own thoughts. My own history, memory and ideas. As if my mind were TV static, everything felt so incredibly loud but I couldn't hear a thing.
Something was knocking at the door of my mind, something was crawling in, and new memories were encapsulating my brain—but whose were they?
I couldn't envision these thoughts, they were just there, like a weird nostalgic feeling and déjà vu I couldn't shake.
I couldn't—

"Will?"

Third Person POV

Joyce knocked on her sons door three times before he responded with a slight jump.
"Will? Are you alright, honey? It's freezing in here, why do you have the window open?"
Will blinked, trying to formulate his words, as he stepped up and brought his window closed.
"I was... day dreaming. I hardly realized," he replied with an anxious laugh, as Joyce looked at him skeptically.
"Well, dinner's ready, if you didn't hear the first time. Come out,"

Come out...

Will nodded quickly, not wanting to further worry his mother. Since his return there hasn't been one person who hadn't babied him, at his side at every moment to assure his safety. And, if it didn't resort to babying, it was teasing. He couldn't escape the events of the year prior, physically, or mentally, and that's all he craved. All he wanted was to forget everything, and sometimes, he wondered if it would have been better if he never returned.

The boy loved his mother, his brother, and his friends. He loved them entirely, but their love was beginning to suffocate him.

At school the following morning, Dustin wasn't there. The gang had noticed this, each to their own sense of worry, but it had been quickly resolved upon his entering of the classroom in a near panic.
"My apologies, Mr. Clarke. Please, continue with the lesson, I won't interrupt anymore."
Turning to the party, Dustin quickly arranged a meeting—to his teacher's disliking—between them, to show them of a new discovery.

"His name is D'Artagnan. Cute, right?"
"D'Artagnan?"
"Dart for short."
"And he was in your trash?"
"Foraging for food. Want to hold him?" Dustin asked, looking to Max, her face suddenly paling.
"Hell no I don't," she responded, but next thing you knew it was in the palm of her hands.
"Ew, ew, ew, ew," she cried out, "it's so slimy," she cried, passing it to Lucas, who was next to her.
"Ugh, he's like a living booger!"
Will's, who held it next, face shriveled at the contact with the creature.
"Oh, god, gross," he said, nearly throwing it onto Mike's hands.
"What.. exactly is he?" Mike questioned, with a much tamer disposition.
"My question exactly. At first, I thought he was some sort of pollywog, but upon further research I realized this couldn't be. Pollywog's live primarily in water, but this isn't the case for him. Dart doesn't need water to survive."
"Aren't there land dwelling pollywogs?"
"Yes, there are indeed, two of the sort to be exact—one from South America and the other East Asia. How would it have gotten here, though?"
"Maybe some scientist brought it as an experiment or something."
"Do you.. guys see that? It looks like something's moving in him," Mike interrupted, gazing at Dart, Will standing behind him with a nervous look.
Bringing the light to him, a sudden screeching from Dart startled all of them as he tried to crawl away from the source.
As Dustin caught him, he smiled brightly.
"Another thing. Reptiles, they're cold blooded. They need this sort of heat to survive, but Dart hates it."
"So if he's not a pollywog or a reptile, then..."
"..I've discovered a new species."

The cold feeling at returned to Will. The constant shiver, and the worrisome look.
Dart...
Sudden recollections of Christmas evening tugged at him, his throat beginning to close again at the thought. The sink... He knew what Dart was. He remorsefully knew, and despite all attempts to convince himself otherwise, he was to no avail. Static, it was all static again. He couldn't hear them, he couldn't see them, he couldn't feel them. It had all gone dark, as if he was never physically present.
And, just like that, he was back.