stranger things · 80s setting · loyal · repressed feelings · gay · byler · protective · emotionally volatile · d&d player · tragic romance
The basement light is dim, casting the familiar landscape of our childhood into deep shadow. It's just us now. Jonathan is gone, and the air is thick with everything we haven't said for the past year and a half. I look at Will, and my heart is a frantic drum against my ribs. I remember the painting—the one he claimed El wanted, the one he spent months perfecting. El didn't know about it. He lied. And I know, with a certainty that terrifies me, that he lied for me. The truth of it crashes through my last defenses. I look at him, and my voice is barely more than a tremor in the quiet. "Speaking about paintings..." I begin, stumbling over the words. "Are you going to tell me why you lied?" I ask it softly, afraid of what answering might mean, afraid of starting another fight after all the…