based on this concept of steve and mike coming out to each other
š¤ also on ao3
The sun is setting in beautiful hues of pink and purple, tinging the town of Hawkins, Indiana, in a light of serenity and beauty it doesnāt really deserve. Steveās hands are gripped tight around the steering wheel as he carefully scans the road and the houses he passes.
He almost misses the bike where itās lying on the curb, carelessly discarded by the looks of it, and a tinge of worry shadows his frown. Worry that doesnāt quite dissipate when he spots the figure sitting on the roof, almost black against the lilac colour of the sky, but he breathes a sigh of relief. He considers grabbing the radio to let the others know he found Mike, but decides against it. Something tells him that maybe theyāll take a while. Something tells him thereās more to Willās stunned silence and Mikeās sudden departure from where they were all hanging out at Steveās after another successful Hellfire session.Ā
With a sigh, Steve cuts the engine and gets out of the car, keeping his eyes on Mike the whole time ā ready for him to take off again, ready to go sit a while and wait for him to come back. But Mike doesnāt move, even after he shuts the door and approaches the Wheelersā house. He doesnāt acknowledge Steve when he pulls himself up to the roof, easier this time than the first time he did this.Ā
Thereās a snide comment in the air between them, a version of Mike that would have lashed out at him, made fun of and insulted him. But this one just sits there, hands in his lap, frown on his face, and stares ahead.Ā
āWhat do you want,ā he asks eventually, though it doesnāt have the kind of heat that Steve expects. He barely even sounds like a teenager. Just sort ofā¦ dejected. Steve aches for him; just a little bit.Ā
āJust making sure youāre alright,ā Steve says, shrugging, looking ahead as well so Mike doesnāt feel watched. Or seen, maybe.Ā
Because the thing is, Steve does see him. He sees the way he looks at Will sometimes, and the way his eyes fill with something that can only be described as yearning, or aching, followed by regret and fear. Which always, always turn into anger. Into frustration. Into snide comments and rolled eyes and walls that keep getting an inch added to them each day. Itās never directed at Will, that anger, and rarely at the rest of the Party, but Steve still sees it. Gets the worst of it and takes it, because he knows something about how that feels.Ā
He knows something about looking at someone like that, about feeling that fear, that regret, that worry that come with it. He knows something about never really daring to meet someoneās eyes for fear of what they would see.Ā
āIām alright,ā Mike says, sounding anything but. Thereās a bitterness in his voice. Frustration in the way his thumb is picking at the skin of his fingers. Confusion in the tension of his shoulders, and Steve feels like he only needs to make one wrong move, say one wrong word, make a single sound thatās off key to the melody of this moment, and Mike will jump off the roof and take off again with his bike.Ā
So all he says, after a momentās consideration, is, āCool.ā Like he believes him. Giving Mike room to breathe, room to pretend. He knows something about that, too.Ā
He knows and he sees and he feels.Ā
And suddenly he wants to say something heās never said before, something he didnāt even get to tell Robin because she knew and saw and felt, too, taking something from him that he hasnāt yet been ready to reclaim for himself.Ā
And maybe itās because he sees something of himself in the way Mike holds himself, in the way he snaps at anyone willing to listen, in the way he frowns in regret and barely meets anyoneās eyes except when itās in challenge ā and, most of all, in the way he never, never meets Willās eyes. In the way he looks away when the other boy turns to him, and in the way his eyes will snap back and take in everything about his best friend when heās not aware of it.Ā
Maybe itās because the sky is pink and lilac and purple above them, allowing for a certain magic to happen, allowing for a bravery that doesnāt come easy to him; but as he sits on the roof next to Mike Wheeler, the only one of the Party he never really connected with, he closes his eyes against the breeze that catches in his hair and opens his jacket a little further, slithering beneath the fabric as if in a brief embrace, a nudge, a sign to take this leap, and takes a deep breath.Ā
His heart is picking up its pace inside his chest, taking this leap along wit him, and pulls up one of his legs to wrap his hands around it ā just to have something to hold onto.Ā
He opens his mouth once, twice, three times, but the words never really come out. They donāt know how, and heās beginning to tremble a little with it, tension building in his chest where the words are still locked away, hidden among layers of truth.Ā
Mike looks over with a frown and eyes him warily. It makes Steve want to laugh, this sudden change of pace, but he just keeps staring ahead; even when Mike asks, āAre you alright?āĀ
āYeah,ā Steve says. And then then dam is broken and breaking further, and with another deep breath, still not meeting Mikeās eyes, instead focusing on the tree tops in the distance that shine in hues of purple, he finally says, āIām kind of dating Eddie Munson.āĀ
And just like that, itās out. Heās out.Ā
He doesnāt know if the world still spins, if time still passes, if he still breathes, because for a moment there is only silence. Mike stops picking at the skin of his fingers, Steve stops trembling, and neither of them moves.Ā
Itās both anticlimactic and momentous, this silence between them when their eyes meet. When the words unfold and grow wings, when Mike understands, his eyes growing big with something that Steve canāt quite read with how tense he is despite his best efforts.Ā
The silence stretches between them, surpassing comfort and overstaying its welcome, and suddenly itās Steve who feels like heās about to take off if Mike so much as twitches his brows.Ā
āYouā¦ What?āĀ
Forget it, Steve wants to say. Nothing.Ā
But also, Iām in love with Eddie Munson. And I used to be in love with Nancy. And thatās okay. Both of that, itās okay.Ā
He ends up repeating his words, though, because they know what itās like to be spoken now. āEddie. Iām kind of dating Eddie.āĀ
āButā¦ā Itās Mike now whose mouth is opening and closing without saying anything. Mike whoās blinking, trembling a little, twitching, picking at his skin again, moving further along his hand this time to pinch the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. Steve almost reaches out to stop him, but he doesnāt really dare to.Ā
āBut?ā he prompts after a while, not quite comfortable with this loaded kind of silence.Ā
āEddieās a boy.āĀ
But Tammy Thompson is a girl.Ā
āI know,ā Steve says, his tone carefully neutral, wanting to see, to wait where Mike takes this, to hear whatās on his mind, to watch the wheels turn and the gears shift. He feels awfully raw and open, vulnerable with someone who hasnāt been treating that with care yet. But thereās something about this moment that feels bigger than his own fears, bigger than the light nausea settling in his gut; far more important than the way he wants to run and hide, away from the scrutiny.Ā
āAndā¦ā Mike continues, still battling the words inside his head. Steve wonders if there are too many or none at all. āBut youā¦ You loved Nancy.āĀ
Ah. Smart boy. āI did,ā Steve says with a small smile. āAnd it was never a lie. But I found thatā¦ Yeah, I can kinda like boys, too, yāknow? And thatās, like, okay.ā
A beat. A frown. A confused, hopeful, small, āIt is?āĀ
Steve just nods, smiling in reassurance and relief at equal measures. Silence settles once more, now that the sky has darkened into a deeper, darker blue; but itās not as loaded this time, not as tense. Itās an invitation. An offering. A promise of Iām here, Iām with you, you can take as long as you need. To get down from the roof, to come back, to come out of wherever you think you need to hide from the world.Ā
Mike takes it. He stays, pulling up his leg, too, mirroring Steveās pose and staring ahead, but not as far away. He seems alert, seems to be thinking rather than dwelling, seems to be gearing up for something. Steve watches and sees and knows, remaining patient beside him, his chin resting on his knee as Mike learns to deal with this new world that has been presented to him. This new world that comes with opportunities and chances and possibilities that are scary and big and difficult to make.Ā
āYāknow,ā Mike starts at last, interrupting the silence, playing with it, his voice hushed and quiet to keep it from disappearing completely. āLucas, when he had that championship game? He told us, Dustin and me, that we didnāt have to be the losers this time. The nerds. The outcasts. Different. And all I wanted was to scream at him, becauseā¦āĀ
Mike swallows his words, keeping them from tumbling out of his mouth, and Steve aches for him again. He wants to reach out, wants to say itās okay, tell him itās alright, to take his time. But he waits in silence, lets Mike find the bravery he needs on his own, and waits.Ā
āBecause how could he say that, you know? How could he, whenā¦ Will wasnāt there. And all I did, all I ever did anymore, was miss him. And I loved El, I knew I did. And she was gone, too, butā¦āĀ
He trails off again, and this time Steve picks it up. To let him know heās not alone. To let Mike know he understands what heās saying. He understands. āBut sheās not Will. You needed Will.āĀ
āBut I shouldnāt!ā Mike explodes suddenly, riled up because Steve adds fuel to the fire, because Steve has that same fire, too; and because they are so, so similar when they want to be. āAnd now heās back and it should be fine, I shouldnāt be feeling like this, it doesnāt even make sense! How can Iā¦āĀ
Steve looks at him, at his expression that is nothing but lost ā completely and utterly. Heās seen it on the bathroom floor at the mall; high out of his mind as he was, heāll never forget the way Robin looked at him, the sheer crestfallen expression. All that confusion, all that fear and frustration and, in the end, resignation. Heās seen it in the mirror, and heās seen it in those pretty brown eyes that he just canāt get out of his head anymore.Ā
He offers, gently, āHow can you need him when heās right there? How can you love him when a year ago you loved El?ā
And Mike just looks at him before he deflates completely, his shoulders falling along with his face. He nods. Shrugs. Looks away and hides his face behind his leg.Ā
Steve sighs softly, watching the boy and speaking the words he wants to say the sixteen year-old version of himself. āI donāt know,ā he says truthfully. āI really donāt, and it sucks sometimes, having this need to, like, decide. Or understand. Or stop and be like the rest of them.ā Like Robin and Eddie, or like the rest of the world. āBut I like to think, sometimes, that maybe itās a good thing. That thereās justā¦ I donāt know, it sounds corny as hell, but like, thereās just so much love to give, we canāt even stick to only boys or girls, yāknow.āĀ
āThat does sound real corny as fuck, man,ā Mike says, and back is that long suffering tone of his, back is that eye roll and the twitching elbow, ready to nudge Steve in the side. Itās still tinged with that vulnerability, not quite Mike yet, but itās an offering.
One of many tonight, it seems.
Steve grins, a bit lopsided and raw, shoving Mike gently as he remembers something he overheard once. āSorry, mister Heart of our group, but I donāt think you have any leg to stand on here.ā
That makes Mike freeze, though, and he stares at Steve wide-eyed; caught. Exposed. Reminded.
āWhat did you say?ā
āUh,ā Steve falters, not sure where he went wrong ā or if he went wrong at all. āI overheard Will calling you that, talking about you to, uhm. Someone. I donāt know. Why, whatāsā Whatās wrong?ā
āNothing,ā Mike says, way too quickly, pulling away again with everything he has, hiding behind those walls once more, and Steve feels whiplash from it.
āMike,ā he says, his voice quiet and gentle as he turns to face him completely.
āNo.ā
āItās okay,ā Steve says. Promises, as much as he can.
āShut up!ā
āYouāre not wrong or bad or broken. Itās okay, youāre okay.ā
āI said, shut up, Steve.ā
āYou should see the way he looks at you, too. You should go talk to him. Youāā
Mike lashes out, finally coming out from behind those walls again, only to shove at Steve, to push him away ā hard enough for him to lose his balance and almost fall off the roof, clenching one hand on the edge, the other in the rainwater gutter with a bitten-off curse.
āShit, Iām sorry!ā Mike reaches for him immediately, snapping out of whatever anger Steve caused, and pulling him back until heās safe again, apologising over and over, dead to Steveās promises that itās alright. āFuck, Iām so sorry, Steve, Iām soāā
He pulls Mike against his chest, finally reaching out to hold the boy who always pushes people away when they get too close ā quite literally, too.
But he doesnāt shove this time, doesnāt move out of Steveās grasp as the mumbled apologies become heaving sobs.
āItās okay, youāre okay, youāre so okay, Mike,ā Steve tells him over and over as he holds him. The sky above is almost black now and Steve lets Mike cry into his chest.
It takes a while for Mike to calm down, but Steve just holds him through it, ready to let go whenever Mike wants to pull back and snap out of it again ā but he never does, and Steve feels a certain kind of affection for the boy that is usually reserved for Lucas or Dustin.
At last, when heās calmed down, Mike pulls back a little. āDo you reallyā¦ Does itā¦ Is it really okay?ā
Can it be okay? Can I really like both? Is that not just me, being broken and wrong and bad? Will I get the chance to not be alone?
Steve swallows hard, and his voice is hoarse when he says, āYeah. Itās really okay. āNā Iām with you, yeah? If someone gives you shit for it. Or if you need a reminder.ā
And Mike ā puffy eyed, snotty nosed, so, so young ā looks at him with those trusting eyes and nods, like he believes Steve. Like he trusts him. Like he hopes.
āJust donāt fucking shove me off your roof again.ā
Ans just like that, the spell is broken, the tension is lifted, and silence has left them, as Mike almost chokes on a laugh and shoves at him again, lightly this time, before jumping off the roof so Steve canāt retaliate.
āAsshole,ā he mutters, shaking his head as he, too, jumps off the roof, dusting off his pants as he watches Mike grabbing his bike. āHey, Micycle,ā he calls, cackling when Mike flips him the bird. āYou want a ride back?ā
Mike stops, considering as Steve casually flicks his keys into the air and catches them expertly. āWhat kinda music do you got?ā
āThe Clash, ācause Eddie hates them.ā
āYeah, thatās because they suck!ā
Steve snorts, opening the driverās side door. āYāknow, theyāre one of Willās favourites, actually.ā
He watches Mike freeze with a grin on his face, knowing thereās no way the boy would take the bike.
āYouāre so annoying,ā Mike sighs as he brings his bike close to the garage and carefully lays it on the grass this time before hurrying over to Steve, getting in on the front, rolling his eyes when Steve cackles. āI donāt know why Eddie would date youāā
His words are drowned out when Steve turns up Train in Vain, drumming along on the steering wheel with a shit eating grin. Though the atmosphere is wildly different now, the spell broken and the bubble burst, itās undeniable that something happened between them. Something big, something important.
Something that makes Mikeās annoyed, long-suffering expression be broken by the smile heās trying to hide. It makes Steve laugh, elated and feeling something thatās much, much bigger than he himself ever could be.
Itās going to be okay. So, so okay.
Before they know it, theyāre pulling up to Steveās and he turns off the car, is about to get out when Mike makes him still again.
āHey, Steve?ā
āHm?ā
āI think itās cool. You and Eddie.ā
He smiles, relief and fondness washing over him. āYeah?ā
āYeah.ā
āThanks.ā He reaches over and ruffles Mikeās hair ā a wild mane these days, but they could make it work with some care and some products. āNow go get your man, lover boy.ā
āGod, you suck so much, youāre so annoying!ā
Steveās cackling again when the passenger door slams shut and Mike lets himself into his house.
He spots a figure in the dark, their face lighting up when they take a drag of a cigarette ā and Steveās heart stumbles in his chest. He scrambles to get out, attempting to look calm and collected, even though Eddie always manages to see right through him.
āHello, stranger,ā he says, leaning against the wall beside Eddie, hiding away in the dark, where the world wonāt see their shoulders touch, or their fingers tentatively playing with each other before they canāt take it no longer and lace their hands, holding on tight.
āHi,ā Eddie breathes. āHowād it go?ā
āFine, I think. But, uhmā¦ I told him. About me. About us. That, uh. That okay?ā
Even in the dark, Steve can feel eyes on him, but he just stares ahead, opting instead to give his warm hand a squeeze. He smiles when Eddieās thumb begins to draw patterns on his palm.
āHmm. Very. You think theyāll be okay?ā
āYeah,ā Steve breathes, stealing Eddieās cigarette from his mouth and pulling it between his own lips. āYeah, I think they will be.ā
1K notes
Ā·
View notes