Little League (Byler)

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(AKA "We wore our hearts right on our sleeves, why did we ever have to leave?")

Scoops Ahoy loomed before them, just feet away from a free ticket into the theater. They had done this dozens of times before, yet the idea still sent adrenaline down Will's spine. The puffy lipped Mike Wheeler led the quad into the shop, abusing the small brass bell on the countertop. And the bull cut haired boy looked down at his feel as Robin boar holes into Mike's warm eyes.
"Dingus, you're children are here." She smirked, picking at her choppy fingernails. Bitten down to the fingertip. Steve Harrington shoved his head out of the shutters, rolling his eyes.
"Again?!"
"Yes again, now hurry up, we're gonna be late for the movie." Wheeler spat smugly. A mature tone coated his voice, something Will had noticed creeping into his best friends system. A voice so scarily attractive, the Byers boy could hardly contain randomly complimenting it.
Steve pouted and let the group through, leaving them off with his signature remark.
"If anybody hears about this-"
"We're dead." Wheeler, Byers, Sinclair, and Mayfield finished, they paced down the hall. Will struggled to keep up at times, which he found annoying. If Michael just had shown up on time, they wouldn't have to be doing this and could easily be comfortably staring at the opening.
But he let it go.
It wasn't worth fighting when it happened continuously already, plus Will Byers was not weak, he could handle a bit of annoyance.
They piled into the rows, Mike climbing over his best friend to sit next to him. Which suddenly dawned over him- Mike Wheeler would be in the seat directly next to him for two hours. Watching a horror movie. In their own row. No Eleven. Will and Mike.
He gulped.
When he heard the low voice brush past the hair on his neck, he could've sworn his heart went into cardiac arrest.
"Can you pass me the skittles?"
William Byers was glued to his seat for a moment, face as red as a siren. And the worst thing was that Mike didn't quite seem to understand that his best friend had very much heard his request, so he just repeated the phrase even closer to his ear.
"Hey Will, pass me the skittles will you?"
His pulse quickened at the tender voice pricking his neck, yet he immediately smiled awkwardly in return and reached in the bag.
"Sorry, I-uh I can't see the labels." He droned in embarrassment, but Mike only smiled.
"It's okay, need some help?"
A strange offer, but Will graciously accepted. So the taller boy grazed his hand over the others wrist and gripped it gently. Mike led Will to the pack he wanted and grinned when he brought the pair of hands back up.
The Byers boy was done with, his heart had achieved a pace that seemed rather dangerous to his stamina. And it didn't help that Michael was still holding onto his friends wrist, Skittles and all. He had what he wanted so why wasn't he letting go? Drop it please. Will felt like shattering glass being held together by nothing but a yarn of stubbornness. The hairs on his neck prickled up into goosebumps and Will quickly tore his hand from Mike's to press it there. It was just instinct, he assumed, after all of those encounters with possession and kidnapping.
"You okay?" He heard quietly, and when he turned, Mike was just inches from his face. This was a fever dream, it had to be. When there was no response, the talkers lanky hand reached out to take Wills chin into itself. Thumb tracing over his companions jawline, and very rudely, Mike suddenly wanted to kiss him.
And out of nowhere too.
It had to have been from the missing lights in the theater, or the loom of glowing light produced by the screen highlighting his pretty features. But Mike knew he couldn't go through with it, he had a girlfriend of course. And he was very happy with El, they were glued to each other in passion and beauty. Yet, Mike Wheeler couldn't help but stare longingly at those gentle pink lips. Those lips that had never touched anyone else's.
He shuddered, knocking himself out of that daunting trance. And just like that, all contact between the two subsided and they leaped to their proper seats. Illuminating red cheeks that mirrored the others.
The puffy lipped boy swallowed his worries, he had lost his appetite. Will clutched that pack of skittles in his tiny hand, red in the face. And Mike couldn't help himself from noticing that frown that appeared on the smaller boys face. If he could he would kiss it away, make it turn upwards- but he couldn't. And he wasn't gay. So that was another reason.
The Byers boy buried his face in his hands, occasionally glancing up at the movie. He was mortified. Why had Mike gotten that close? It just split their already on edge relationship further apart, yet in a confusing way.
Face still buried in his fists, he gently brushed his thumb over that place where Mike had held him. Butterflies raged in his stomach, blush uncontrollably shooting up to his cheeks. He winced and sighed under his breath, quietly biting his lip to stop that toothy smile from showing up. Minute after minute and Will's face was still engine red, so he gently brought his face back up. Attempting to watch the film.
Unrequited love hurt.
It hurt just as bad as getting a demon sucked into your body.
It hurt like hell.
It hurt because it mirrored the symptoms of grief. Something Will had experienced countless times. He was used to it, sure. But every single loss echoed that of someone hitting a already-there bruise.
And he had one thing going for him.
Maybe if he got hit enough times, that aching spot would grow numb.
***
Authors Note: When I tell you that took me ten minutes just to try and end it.. istg
Anyway! Have a great day!

Words- 1025