✓ | 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 (BYLER)

𝒙𝒙𝒊𝒗. THE PAINTING

He cut himself off mid-sentence after realizing how foolish he must've sounded, rambling on and on about his ex-girlfriend who he merely loved as a close friend.

"Sorry," He uttered with a lighthearted chuckle.

"No, it's okay," Will retorted, his arm brushing against Mike's ever so slightly.

"No, it's . . . it's so stupid, given everything that's going on," Mike prattled. "It's just . . . I . . . I don't know, I just . . ."

"You're scared of losing her," The brunette boy interfered, finishing the sentence for him.

Mike simply nodded in response, his mouth drier than the Nevada desert. How was Will so good at reading him?

"Can I show you something?" Will asked, his expression neutral despite the fact that his stomach was churning with immense anxiety.

Mike nodded once again, a puzzled look forming on his freckled face as he watched the brunette yank a rolled-up painting from his backpack. Will glanced at the painting and let out a shaky exhale. There was no turning back. He slowly handed it to the other boy, nervously chewing his bottom lip as he waited for him to unravel it.

The entire scenario was far too obscure for Mike to comprehend. The last letter he received from El prior to his flight to California mentioned Will working on a painting for someone he liked. Did that mean Will had a crush on him?

The ravenette automatically brushed the absurd thought away. There was no way Will Byers would ever develop romantic feelings for another boy, especially someone as awkward and nerdy as himself. Even if they lived in an alternate universe, the odds of him feeling that way were slim to none.

Mike carefully unrolled the delicate painting, his tense expression softening upon its grand reveal. Painted on the canvas was the most stunning work of art he had ever received from his best friend, which was a rather impressive title considering the fact that he had an entire binder filled with the boy's projects.

A vibrant portrait of two boys on a swing set filled every crevice of the canvas. One of the boys wore a purple robe with a corresponding wizard's hat while the other wore a silver suit of armor with a red heart on the shield. They appeared to be rather young — no older than six — and happy. Genuinely happy. The sky was blue and occupied with dozens of cotton-like clouds. Bundles of spring flowers sprouted from the verdant grass, adding the perfect splash of color to the highly detailed masterpiece.

What made this particular painting so special was that these weren't just two ordinary boys. It was the paladin and his beloved cleric on the swing set where they met for the first time. Mike felt a tear dribble down his cheek, tickling his porcelain skin as it fell.

"It's us," He whispered, his lips curving into a sincere grin. "This is amazing, Will. You really painted this?"

"Yeah," Will beamed, his face flushing redder than a tomato. "I mean, El asked me to. She commissioned it, basically. I mean, she told me what to draw."

Mike felt his heart shatter into a dark abyss of emptiness. He had been so ecstatic to receive such a meaningful painting coming directly from Will's loving heart only to find out it wasn't his idea at all.

"Anyway, my point is, you see your coat of arms here?" The brunette continued, pointing a finger at the intricate detail. "It's a heart. And I know it's sort of on the nose, but that's what holds our party together — heart. Because, I mean, without heart, we'd all fall apart. Even El — especially El."

Will's hazel eyes began to well with a fresh pool of tears as he spoke. He hated himself for lying to his best friend, but it was the safest thing to do if he wanted to preserve their friendship. Mike would think he was a monster if he knew the truth behind the painting.

Just then, Jonathan averted his eyes to the rearview mirror, seemingly catching on. He was aware of Will's love for Mike, so hearing him lie to protect himself from potentially getting his heart broken was quite saddening. Truthfully, the older teen didn't care about his younger brother's sexuality. He just wanted him to be happy.

"These past few months, she's been so lost without you," Will carried on. "It's just, she's so different from other people . . . and when you're different, sometimes . . . you feel like a mistake."

He wasn't just talking about El anymore. He was talking about himself — his own feelings. But Mike was far too oblivious to pick up on that.

"But you make her feel like she's not a mistake at all. Like she's better for being different. And that gives her the courage to fight on."

Those words undoubtedly made Mike feel better, but he secretly wished Will were talking about himself rather than El. If only he could read the thoughts spiraling through Will's brain.

"If she was mean to you or she seemed like she was pushing you away, it was probably because she was scared of losing you, just like you're scared of losing her. And if she was going to lose you, I think she'd rather just get it over with quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid," The Byers boy rambled. "So, yeah. El needs you, Mike. And she always will."

"Yeah?" The ravenette smiled.

God, why was he such an idiot?

"Yeah," Will replied with a forced grin.

He cranked his head around to face the window and began to sob uncontrollably, covering his mouth to muffle the sounds of his whimpers and shaky breaths. However, after a few seconds, a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around. Mike.

"Hey, no, don't cry," He whispered, his chocolatey eyes filled with empathy. "It's okay."

He wanted to wipe the stream of tears from Will's doe eyes. He wanted to make all of his pain vanish into thin air. He wanted to cup his beautiful face in his hands and caress his rosy cheeks, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. But he couldn't do any of that, so he pulled him in for a hug — a real one this time.

Will was flabbergasted by Mike's unexpected action, but he immediately wrapped his arms around the boy's torso, crying even harder into his windbreaker. He refused to pull away, as he had been longing for his best friend's embrace since the day his family left Hawkins. That day, which was nearly a year ago, was the last time he had ever been in the arms of Mike Wheeler — the last time he had ever been home.

Mike held him for a few minutes, gently rubbing his back in circular motions to calm him down. He wasn't exactly sure why Will had gotten so emotional, but the reason didn't matter in that moment. All that mattered was that he was there to comfort him.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 !
long chapter w/ the byler scene you've been waiting for. you're welcome.