Chapter Text
Mike Wheeler has a bit of a problem. Not the world ending kind, although he's had his fair share of those and happens to be in the middle of another, but one a bit more benign. Which doesn't explain why it's been driving him crazy.
It all started with a movie night. About halfway through the Party's rewatching of Back to The Future, something about Dustin having never got to watch it, Will had gotten up. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, but as per the Party rules getting up first during a movie made Will the snack jockey for the rest of the night. And it was this democratically appointed role that was the cause of all of Mike's current bursts of batshit insanity. Because during a "harrowing" trip back down to the basement, apparently Ted had also been overcome with sudden onset madness and decided to spark up a conversation with Will in the kitchen and thus the entire thing was "a horrible experience befitting one of Mike's bullshit boss encounters" rude, Will had slipped on one of the numerous blankets Dustin cocooned himself in, and in a feat of athleticism that Mike has never, and will never again, been able to perform, had caught Will square around the waist and safely plopped him and his precious cargo back on the basement's worn couch.
Which brings Mike back to the problem at hand. Will's waist. It was so... he didn't even know how to describe it. It has invaded his every waking thought and probably half his dreams too. At this rate if Vecna ever did curse Mike, he would be staring at the mystery that was Will's waist until he either died or was dragged out by the crooning of Jimmy Somerville.
It wasn't even really a mystery it was just...just- when Mike had caught Will he could've sworn in that split second that his fingers had touched. And that was-it just wasn't possible, was it? No way Will could have a waist that small, there was just no way. It was like if the clones were on the side of the Jedi₁, it just didn't make any sense. But that didn't stop Mike from spending the rest of the night mentally measuring the circumference of his best friend's waist with his hands. A ghostly presence in the circle his palms had made has haunted him since.
Again, this brings Mike back to the problem at hand. Not being able to stop fucking thinking about tying Will up with a tape measure just to confirm how fucking small his waist really is. And Mike doesn't have a way to confirm this at all! He can't just keep staring at his hands like a weirdo and he definitely can't keep staring at Will's waist like it holds the answers to the universe and life and whatever the hell else. He can't keep this up, Lucas already gives him these looks like he's two seconds away from either laughing his ass off or facepalming so hard a black hole opens up. Mike hopes if Lucas does finally break, that aforementioned black hole spaghettifies him a new brain. His current one clearly has its priorities set in descending order because his biggest concern isn’t his girlfriend breaking up with him or the end of the fucking world, its on his best friend's fucking waist and how small it is. Or could be. It's like Schrodinger's cat, but instead of a box it's Will's stupid over-sized shirts and that stupid new jacket he filched from the lost and found. Not that the jacket looks bad on him, almost nothing does, but Mike didn't understand why Will didn't just accept one of Mike's. They'd fit about the same, especially if Will's waist really was that small. Jesus, it was so impossibly small beneath his palms and there was no way Mike was remembering this correctly. But again, this is a problem he plans to solve because he can't be zoning out at 10AM halfway through chemistry because he wants to just rip off that stupid-
Anyway, Mike has a plan. Obviously he can't just ask Will to take off his shirt, that's weird and creepy and not something you can ask your best friend just out of the blue and Mike is not explaining why he wants to see Will shirtless, so that's off the table. And so is walking in on Will in the shower, not that Mike didn't try; it's just that Will locks the door and always brings his clothes with him so there's no chance there. Picking the lock would be even creepier than just asking Will to strip, so it was back to square one for about a week.
So… the plan. Mike has noticed over the last few months of desperate attempts of getting their friendship to go back to how it was before 1985, that Will doesn't really mind when Mike touches him. Enjoys it even! Sure, Mike usually just throws an arm around his shoulders or leans on him during movie night, but surely grabbing Will's waist isn't that far off? They share a room for god's sake! Will would totally be fine with Mike hugging him, I should've hugged him at the airport I'm so stupid, so Mike can just...aim a little lower! It's still friendly! It's not like Mike is trying to touch his ass, although- it's not like Mike is trying anything, he's just gonna throw his arm around Will and do a little measuring with his hand. It's totally normal! And Mike won't have to explain anything because Will is fine with Mike touching him and stuff. It's a foolproof plan Mike is ready to follow through with as soon as the Party shows up for tonight's movie marathon. He hopes Will shows up first.
Will did not show up first. It was an excited Dustin with the entirety of the Star Wars trilogy in toe and enough chips to drown in. And Mike loves his friends, but seriously could it kill them to get a flat tire or something? He has important research to conduct! Involving him getting his hands on his best friend's waist, but still! It's important. He has a C in Chem goddammit and that's not improving until he can solve the mystery of Will's waist size and finally tell his brain to pick a new fucking priority that doesn’t involve him imagining his friend in the shower- and then Lucas shows up. Which, again fine, Mike loves his friends, but seriously where was Will? He literally lives here now, why isn’t he here. He’s impeding life-and-death scientific research! Mike’s un-grounded status depends on this! He can’t spend his entire sophomore year locked up in his house because Will was late to movie night and Mike can’t get his hands arou-
“Mike, hey! You’re totally zoning out, man. I don’t even think you noticed me coming in.” Oh an angel. Oh wait no, it’s just Will. WILL! He’s here! Thank god, Mike can finally save his grades and also his impending visit to Pennhurst. Will is staring at him wearing that stupidly big jacket and a loose T. Shit. How long has Mike been just standing here? Oh my god Mike is still just standing here- say something for the love of-
“Will, hey. I was starting to get worried, how come you live here, but still show up last?” Okay this was good . A little teasing amongst friends never hurts. Expert response, Mike! And Lucas isn’t upstairs to look at him like he’s crazy either. If Mike ignores how sweaty his hands are, he can almost say he’s nailing this!
“Oh?” Will laughs and a teasing smirk spreads, “Is Mike Wheeler getting on me for showing up late?” Mike lied. He is not nailing this. Holy shit. ‘Getting on me’ fuck. No Mike isn’t getting on Will, he just wants to grab his waist. Really feel how small- figure out- he wants to figure out if Will’s waist is really that small. That's all. Curiosity doors and all that.
“Oh shut up, dude. Everybody’s already downstairs, let's go.” Mike hopes that once Will kicks his shoes off he can sneak an arm around Will’s waist instead of his shoulders and then the problem will be solved before they even reach the basement. He’s just gearing himself up to do this as Will shucks his sneaks off and shoulders off his backpack, but is interrupted by a BANG! from the basement. Oh god fucking damnit.
Will gives him an amused look before rushing down the basement stairs looking forward to another Lucas and Dustin argument. Probably about the movie selection. Mike was sure he saw Lucas sneaking Pretty in Pink in the checkout at Family Video yesterday. With a long drawn out sigh, befitting of a scientist denied his chance of a life-changing discovery, Mike grabs a Coke from the fridge and trudges his way after Will.
Mike is greeted by the indignant screech of Dustin as Lucas towers over him holding what can only be A New Hope high above as Dustin futilely tries to snatch it. Will stand slightly off to the side in poorly disguised amusement. What a rat. Cutest rat I've ever-
Mike makes his way towards Will with more confidence than he thought possible, “Soooo, I’m guessing Dustin isn’t a Molly Ringwald fan?”
Will’s shabby mask breaks and he laughs, “ Oh, not even a little bit.” Sadly, it seems Dustin and Lucas hear him and quickly drag Will into the argument. But this might actually be a good thing, no one is focusing on Mike right now so if he can just sidle up to Will and inconspicuously get an arm around him… With a small breath to steady himself Mike approaches the group, sneaking a hand around Will’s waist with a deftness Mike didn’t know he had in him. Maybe I should take up pickpocketing? Will jumps slightly, but doesn’t turn towards him or otherwise stop his complaints about having Leia’s message to Obi-Wan memorized.
Mike, emboldened by Will’s nonchalance, decides to proceed with the measuring in full. Curling his hand around Will’s waist his first thought is: Small. Holy shit Will’s waist is so small. His second thought is: I can’t really get a good feel with his jacket in the way. Which is a terrible thought to have when Mike has his left hand pressing into the thick fabric of Will’s jacket and also zero impulse control. So, with the sort of fascination people get when thinking about other people’s bodies or wearing women's underwear₂, Mike slips his hand down and underneath Will’s jacket. Will stiffens just a little and Mike questions him with a quiet hum. Just to make sure. Will answers back by relaxing in his grip with a slight sway.
With his newly granted permission Mike slides his fingers across the worn shirt underneath, marveling at the size of his best friend’s waist and in awe at how close Will is letting Mike get. How much he trusts Mike to let him touch Will so intimately without even questioning it. And Mike has never been one to take just an inch when given it. He wants the whole mile. He wants the whole damn cake. So after getting frustrated at getting handfuls of cloth when trying to calculate inches of flesh he slips warm fingers under soft cotton and meets something even softer. Will squeaks as Mike’s fingers brush against his sensitive stomach, but he doesn’t pull away and he keeps talking about the artistic integrity of Romcoms and how “It has a message in its own right, Dustin! Not everything has to be an action movie to say something!” as Mike strokes across the smooth expanse of skin hidden under Will’s bulky jacket and over-sized shirt. It’s so warm and just as small as Mike felt all those weeks ago. He can’t help himself from fully gripping Will’s waist in his hand, really feeling how far he can stretch his fingers to engulf Will in his own warmth. Heating up the skin beneath skittering callused fingertips, along shivering sides. Mike’s so close to figuring it out, he just needs…
Quickly looking up, he sees that Lucas and Dustin are still fully engaged in the dumb movie argument so Mike brings his right hand up to meet with his left across Will’s tummy. He’s so soft, fuck. Will shivers leaning fully against his chest now. How the hell are they this oblivious? Whatever, it benefits Mike as he continues his completely scientific escapade of measuring exactly how much of Will he can grab. And it’s a lot. His thumbs massage into the small of Will’s back and his fingertips brush together every so often. Will’s breathing deepens into quiet pants as he continues to shudder beneath Mike’s steady hands in intervals. It’s so, so small. Will has to know that, right? There’s no way he doesn’t know. But if he doesn’t then… Mike should tell him that right? Just so he knows? Mike leans down just slightly, just enough so that he’s right next to Will’s ear.
If he talks real quiet, “Your waist is so small, Will.” ,then Will will be the only one that hears him. And he did, if the small whimper he lets out is any indication. Fuck. Mike makes the smart decision to end his experiments while he’s ahead. He answered the original question anyways and it’s not like he can’t do this again. Will won’t stop him. Maybe he’ll even lean up against him again, maybe instead of standing in a room with their, still arguing, friends Mike can sit down with Will and really feel. Maybe he can see too. But for now,
“Dustin shut up, we’ve seen Star Wars like a million times give me the fricken VHS and sit the hell down.”
“What, dude! That's so unfair! I brought so many snacks!”
“Yeah and this is my house soooo.” Pretty in Pink was okay, honestly Mike was paying more attention to Will then the movie anyway. Not like Will seemed to mind.