Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Morning light seeps through the window, casting the bedroom in a warm summer glow. Mike lets out a quiet grunt as he rolls over in bed, trying to dodge the sunbeams creeping in. He shifts, until his shoulder bumps against the wall.

There’s the faint sound of a running shower. The clink of plates from the kitchen. Mike keeps his eyes closed as he lets his sleepy mind recall the events of last night. He doesn’t realize he’s smiling, when he flops onto his stomach and presses his face into the pillow.

Will’s pillow. The same one Will was moaning into last night. Biting down on. Burying his fingers in. Mike presses his face into the fabric and takes a deep, deep breath, as if he could soak it all up, every muffled moan, every press of Will’s open mouth, every twist of his eyebrows.

He hears Will’s voice in the hallway, followed by Joyce’s. A short conversation, then the front door falls shut.

When Will enters the room a minute later, Mike turns his head, and his heart is beating a little too fast for this time in the morning, his body awake and buzzing with every little thing they did last night.

“You’re awake,” Will states, throwing Mike a quick glance, before heading towards the dresser. His hair is damp, a towel wrapped around his shoulders.

“I’m awake,” Mike confirms into the pillow, wrapping his legs around the blanket.  

“Mom had to go to work, but she made us breakfast.”

“That’s nice.”

“It’s probably burned.”

“Still very nice.”

Mike looks at Will’s sunburned shoulders. He had his mouth there last night, but in the dim light he hadn’t noticed the redness. He watches Will get dressed, not even trying to fight the stupid smile on his face.

“What?” Will asks, looking at him as he zips up his denim shorts.

“Nothing.”

Will doesn’t ask further. He stops in front of the mirror and runs his hands through his hair. He looks normal. Awake and clean and composed, ready to start the day. Like last night was nothing out of the ordinary. Just another thing they did. Just another boundary they crossed.

But Mike’s fingers still remember the heat of Will’s body. His hands remember the tremble of his thighs. And when he looks at Will’s face, he can’t stop picturing flashes of him, open and vulnerable beneath him, his body shaking. The way Will was so out of it, his guard down in a way Mike’s never seen before, even after knowing him for so long.

He stretches and sits up on the edge of the bed, putting his feet on the ground. “I can’t get dressed,” he says, watching Will move through the room. 

“Why?” Will barely looks up.

Mike makes a dramatic pause. “Because you came on my shirt,” he says. “Twice.”

This, finally, makes Will look at him. He blushes, hard, and Mike feels strangely relieved to see him not be normal. “Oh my god,” Will mutters, ducking his head and glaring at Mike. He pulls a fresh shirt from his dresser and throws it at him, aiming directly for his face. “You’re gonna be really annoying about that, aren’t you?”

Mike laughs, catching the shirt. “Probably,” he says.

He wants to talk more about it, but Will has already turned around, clearing the floor of all the clothes, making a pile to wash later. Mike fidgets with the hem of his boxers. He’s restless, and there’s not a single cell in his body that wants to act normal right now. Will is making it look so easy.

But last night didn’t feel normal. Will gave him control of his body. He trusted him even though he said it would be scary. And then he cried, and he said he wasn’t crying, but Mike still remembers the taste of his tears, salty on his tongue, from when he kissed the corner of his eye.

His heart clenches. “Will?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re okay, right?”

Will looks up. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course.” His tone is light, like he doesn’t understand the question.

“Last night – wasn’t too much?”

“No.”

There’s a pause. Will is still picking up clothes.

“Can you come here for a second?”

“Why?”

“Just – come here.”

Will’s eyes move over Mike’s face and he looks like he wants to say no. Like getting closer to Mike is something that comes with a risk. He hesitates, before dropping the clothes, then walks over to the bed. As soon as he’s within reach, Mike hooks his fingers in the belt loops of Will’s denim shorts. He pulls him in.

Will lets out a soft, surprised breath, as he stumbles forward, standing between Mike’s legs. From the way Mike is sitting on the bed, he’s at eye level with Will’s stomach. He doesn’t really think about it, he just wraps his arms around Will’s hips and presses his face into the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Oh – Mike.”

Mike takes a deep breath. Will’s familiar laundry detergent. Will’s shampoo. Products Joyce has been buying since forever. A smell that’s painfully familiar and nostalgic in a way only childhood makes you feel.

Mike didn’t really plan this. He just wanted to be close to Will. It felt like the natural thing to do after what they did last night, but now a silence settles in the room. Will is very still against him. It’s quiet. Too quiet.

And that’s when Mike realizes, this is not what they do in the mornings.

Mornings are for being best friends.

No matter what boundaries they cross in the night, the morning after is always easy. This morning shouldn’t be any different: They’re supposed to make jokes about the night before, teasing each other about the embarrassing sounds they made, proving that this game they’ve been playing doesn’t change anything.

The mornings are for grounding each other in the reality of their friendship. It always felt very important to do that. Mike must’ve forgotten. 

He pulls back, heat rushing into his face. He drops his hands and glances up at Will, who looks right back at him, eyes wide.

Mike clears his throat. “Sorry.” Will is still close, standing between Mike’s legs, not moving. “Sorry,” Mike says again. He doesn’t really know what else to say.

Will’s eyes flicker over his face. He looks like he wants to say something. Then his features soften, and he lets out a breath that sounds like he’s been holding it. Slowly, he moves a hand through Mike’s hair, brushing through his curls. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t say it’s okay. But it’s enough to make Mike’s heart flutter and allow him to bring his hands up again. They slip under Will’s shirt at the back, moving as far up as Mike can reach. He rests his cheek against Will’s stomach and closes his eyes. Will threads his fingers through his curls, fingertips gently brushing against his scalp.

Maybe today is different.

Maybe last night was a big deal.

Mike was able to ask for what he wants, and Will wanted it, too. He said it, didn’t he? He did want to be touched, he just thought that Mike wouldn’t want it, so he never asked. But now that they talked about it, maybe they’re finally on the same page about things.

Maybe now, Mike isn’t the only one anymore, going crazy with the need to be closer.

Still, it’s awfully quiet.

After a minute of soft, hesitant touches, Will clears his throat. He slowly moves his hand from Mike’s hair and takes a step back, his eyes fixed somewhere on Mike’s shirt. “You should – go get ready.”

“Yeah,” Mike whispers. He wipes his palms on his thighs and gets up.

For a second, it’s awkward. They’re standing a bit too close. Then Will takes another step back. “Oh, and Mike?” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Try not to flood the bathroom when you shower, okay?”

“What?”

“Mom complained about it last time. Hopper, too, he got his socks all wet after you showered.”

Mike feels the air rushing back into the room and lets out a scoff, releasing the tension. “I never flood the bathroom!”

“Yeah, you do.” Will smiles, wide. “Like a wet dog, getting water everywhere.”

“Wow,” Mike says, and glares at him. He shoves him on the shoulder on his way out of the room, making Will laugh. And just like that, it’s normal again.

They eat Joyce’s burned pancakes, cutting off the black parts and start a load of laundry to hide all of yesterday’s evidence. They spend ages trying to find two pairs of fresh swimming trunks.

By the time they arrive at the lake, Lucas is already complaining about the sun and Dustin has spent half a fortune on ice cream.  

The day is hot, forcing them to go in and out of the water constantly. The sun dries their skin and hair within seconds. Mike discovers that Will’s thigh makes the perfect pillow, and he spends an hour reading like that until his neck starts to hurt, and he changes positions.

They lie next to each other, naturally drawn a bit too close, always touching somewhere: A foot tucked under an ankle, fingertips casually resting against an arm.

It’s been like that for a few weeks now, except Mike is strangely aware of it today, and he keeps losing track of the words in his book. He looks at his fingers pressed against Will’s shoulder, drawing circles into his skin, and remembers the way Will reacted to his touch last night – to his fingers, his mouth, his gaze. It’s like a drug. Mike can’t stop chasing the memories.

“What the fuck are you reading?” Lucas’ voice cuts through the silence. “I don’t even understand the title.”

“Oh, that?” Dustin seems unbothered. “That’s just for college. I’ve started reading some stuff, you know, just to be prepared.”

“What?” There’s the sound of an empty soda can being thrown in Dustin’s direction. “The summer isn’t over, dude. You’re killing the vibe.”

“It will be over very soon,” Dustin says and Mike wishes he could tune him out, because he doesn’t want to hear any of that. “Life’s going to catch up with us and I for one would like to be prepared – oh my god.” He stops and then adds, in a different voice that sounds like it’s directed to Lucas only: “Have they always been like this?”

“No, it’s getting worse,” Lucas says dryly and sighs.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Dustin shouts and Mike makes a noise when he feels something kick his leg. “Aren’t you a little too hot?”

“When it’s this warm, I don’t even wanna touch Max. And believe me, I wanna touch her all the time–“

“Ew,” Mike says quietly against Will’s shoulder without opening his eyes.

“Keep that shit to yourself,” Will murmurs sleepily.

“Speaking of hot, I’m melting.” Dustin claps his hands against his thighs. “Who wants ice cream?”

When he leaves, Mike sighs softly, happy about the silence. He blinks his eyes open to look up at Will, who’s already looking back.

And it’s funny, because they look at each other all the time, but something about it is more addictive today. It’s like Mike is searching for it now, trying to find proof in Will’s face that he’s thinking about it, too. Trying to find some of that openness, that vulnerability from last night.

And even though Will is mostly acting normal, Mike still thinks he finds it, there, in the flicker of his eyes. Something is lingering, something is different, and it makes Mike want to be closer, as close as physically possible. It makes him want to go home and talk about every little thing they did last night, and practice asking for some more things, push about a billion more boundaries.

He lazily drapes a leg over Will’s knee, his fingers nudging Will’s thigh. Their skin is too warm, slippery with sunscreen and sweat. Will leans into the touch and lets out a soft breath that Mike feels in his face. Somewhere in the distance, he hears birds chirp and the sound of children in the water.

“Seriously Will,” comes Lucas’ voice from behind them. “I know Mike’s no competition, considering how hot you said your boyfriend is, but you really shouldn’t let him see you like that.”

“Wow,” Mike mutters.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Will murmurs without moving his eyes from Mike’s face.

“Oh, really?” Lucas asks. There’s a pause. “Then why can I see his bite marks on your thighs?”

Within a second, Mike’s whole body goes hot. He watches heat rush into Will’s face. When he glances down, he sees that Will’s swimming trunks have ridden up from the way he angled his leg, revealing what they did last night, what nobody was supposed to see. “Shut up,” Will mutters and brings his leg down.  

“I feel like there should be an age restriction to see your thighs.”

Mike snorts, hiding his face in Will’s shoulder, as Will goes impossibly red. “Oh my god, Lucas.”

“It’s crazy you show up here like that.”

“Please just shut up.”

“Mike, back me up here.”

“What?”

“Have you seen this?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mike says, clearing his throat, and he’s grinning so hard it hurts. “Yeah, I agree. Your boyfriend seems insane, Will.”

Will glares at him, flushing harder. “I hate you so much,” he whispers.

“Right?” Lucas says. “He must be like – obsessed with you or something.”

“No, he’s not.” Will groans. “Can we just–”

“Guys. Guys.” Dustin comes back in that moment, balancing four ice cream cones in his hands. He’s beaming, the grin on his face so wide, you can’t see his eyes. “You won’t believe what just happened to me. Come on, get this off me, it’s dripping everywhere.”

Mike doesn’t want to move, but he thinks he might combust if he doesn’t consume anything cool soon. He sits up to get two of the cones from Dustin, passing one to Will.  

Dustin is still beaming as he sits down, looking at his friends expectingly. “Guess,” he demands.

“Uhh, you got us ice cream,” Mike offers lamely.  

“You got a discount?” Lucas suggests.

“Did you see a frog?” Will asks.

“You guys are terrible.” Dustin rolls his eyes. “Try harder.”

“It’s too hot, Dustin.” Lucas groans. “Just tell us.”

“Fine.” Dustin makes sure his ice cream isn’t dripping everywhere before taking a deep, dramatic breath. “I just ran into Stacey.”

All three boys blink at him, unimpressed.

“Oh,” Mike says. “Sorry to hear that.” Will lets out a quiet giggle next to him, and Mike grins into his ice cream.

“She actually complimented my graduation speech. Again,” Dustin says. “She was sad we couldn’t come to her party last time.”

“Oh yeah,” Lucas says dryly. “I’m sure she was heartbroken.”

Mike isn’t really listening anymore, busy licking the drops of ice cream from the cone, the sun making it melt at a dangerous speed.

“It’s her birthday tomorrow.” Dustin makes another dramatic pause. “She invited me to her party.”

“Oh,” Will says politely, raising his brows. “You wanna go?”

“Um, no?” Dustin scoffs. “I don’t wanna go. We wanna go. We’re all going.”

“Absolutely not,” Mike decides without missing a beat.

“Mike.” Dustin takes a breath, so deep it almost sounds threatening. For a moment he looks like a mother, slowly losing patience with her stubborn child. “Please take a moment to think about how long I’ve been single, and then think about whose fault that is.”

“What?” Mike shields his eyes from the sun, frowning. “You’re blaming me?”

Dustin nods, expression dead serious. “Whenever we get invited to parties, you wanna do something boring instead, and then Will doesn’t wanna go either, and then the whole night is ruined.”

“He’s not wrong,” Lucas says, mouth full. “I wanna go.”  

“Me too,” Will says, nibbling on his cone.

Mike frowns at him, betrayed. “Why?”

Will shrugs. “Could be fun.”

“That’s right.” Dustin’s grin widens. “Mike, you and I are the only single people in this friend group, and we need to do something about it.”

“I don’t wanna do something about it.”

“Oh, so you wanna be a loser forever?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Really? You wanna be a virgin in college?”

“Don’t care.”

“Mike.” Dustin lets out a deep sigh. “Think about them. Girls. Remember what they look like? Picture a girl.”

Mike frowns, blinking. “What kind of girl?”

“Just, any girl. Are you picturing one?”

“Uhh. I guess.”

“Do you wanna go to the party now?”

“No.”

Dustin groans, rubbing his palm over his face. He looks at Lucas for help. Lucas has a thoughtful expression on his face, like Mike is a puzzle he needs to solve. “Okay,” he says, slowly, examining him. “You might not think that you need a girlfriend, but it’s pretty obvious you do. If not for yourself, you should do it for Will.”

“What?” Mike glances from Lucas to Dustin to Will like he’s missed something. Will straightens beside him, knee pressing into Mike’s thigh. “What does Will have to do with it?”

“This,” Lucas says, gesturing vaguely between Will and Mike, who are still sitting pressed together, no personal space whatsoever despite the heat. “You’re becoming… weirder.”

“Exactly,” Dustin says, nodding slowly. “It’s like you’re so touch-deprived, you’re making it Will’s problem.”

“It’s probably really unhealthy,” Lucas muses.

“Plus, Will has a boyfriend now. You need to stop bothering him.”

“Oh.” Mike raises his eyebrows, his mouth twitching in a grin. He looks at Will, softly nudging him with his elbow. “Am I bothering you?”

Will smiles at him in a way that makes Mike's heart stumble. “No,” he says. 

Dustin and Lucas let out a long sigh so synchronized it’s almost comical. “Imagine Will wants to invite his boyfriend to a hangout,” Lucas says. “You’re gonna sit in a corner and look pathetic, like a lost puppy waiting to be picked up.”

Dustin nods enthusiastically. “Exactly,” he says. “Will is trying to live his life and you’re holding him back. How is he supposed to have his whole boyfriend experience if he has an annoying dumbass like you always running after him?”

“Oh my god,” Mike mutters. “Why am I friends with you all?”

“And why is everybody talking about me like I’m not here?” Will asks, rolling his eyes.

“Which is why,” Dustin continues, as if he didn’t hear them, “we need to go to the party. We need to get out. And you, Mike, you need to be in a room with girls. It’ll be good for you, trust me.”

If Mike didn’t want to go earlier, he definitely doesn’t want to go now. But truthfully, the moment Will said he wanted to go, Mike had already decided, so this whole discussion was pointless.

He turns his head, looking at Will, whose eyes are lingering somewhere on the grass. Maybe the party isn’t so bad. Maybe they can get a little tipsy. Maybe they can leave early, and Mike can be even braver than he was last night.

“Fine,” he mutters.

Excitement erupts from Lucas and Dustin and Mike rolls his eyes as they start discussing the details. He tunes out and lies back down on the towel. Will follows a minute later. Mike wants to roll over and whisper something to him, but he can’t think of anything. So he blinks up at the blue sky and presses his arm into Will’s. Will presses back.

On the way to the bikes, Dustin and Lucas are deep in a conversation, calculating exactly how many days of the summer are left. Mike focuses on the soft rustle of the grass beneath their footsteps. As they stand to unlock their bikes, he clears his throat.

“Will,” he says, quietly.

“Yeah?” Will is hunched over his bike, turning the numbers on his lock.

“Are you hanging out with your mom again tonight?”

“Why?”

“I was just wondering, um… where we sleep.”

Will straightens and blinks, and there’s a second where he hesitates. “Oh.” His gaze drops to somewhere on Mike’s shoulder and in that short moment Mike thinks he might tell him he needs another evening for himself – which would be fine. Fine. But then Will says: “Let’s go back to yours.”

“Okay.” Mike smiles, wide. “Cool.”  

They say goodbye to Dustin at the crossroads, and then to Lucas a few yards further down. The sun has turned more orange than yellow, setting behind the trees and casting a warm glow on everything. Mike feels a bit giddy for no reason at all, and throws Will a big grin.

“Race me?” he asks, already pushing the pedals before Will can even register he said something.

“Hey!” Will calls after him. “Come back here!”

Mike’s legs are longer, but Will’s are stronger, which is why, in Mike’s logic, it’s only fair he gets a head start. Will catches up to him when they reach the street and Mike lets out a shrieking laugh, trying to pedal faster.

They’ve been racing each other since they were kids, and the rule was always simple: The first to make it to the carport wins, and if maybe they were a little careless sometimes, their bikes hitting the wall or the Wheeler’s car, then that’s a secret they’ll never tell.

“You’re gonna lose!” Will calls, laughing, and it’s true, he’s already racing past him right through the finish line. Mike tries to grab Will’s shirt, misses, and only slows down himself. Will hits the brakes to not crash into the wall. The speed makes it hard to stop, so they jump off, the bikes hitting the ground with a loud clatter.

“Fuck,” Mike says, bending down to put his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “I used to be faster.”

Will laughs, his breath coming out short. He leans against the wall, exhausted, and looks at Mike. “You used to be fitter.”

“And you used to be tiny.”

“You used to be tiny, too.”

“Not as tiny as you.”

They grin at each other, wide-eyed, breathing hard. And somehow, this whole day felt like a test of Mike's patience, waiting for the moment they’re finally alone again. The sun hits Will’s face in a way that makes his eyes look very bright, and Mike feels a little crazy, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He steps over the bikes to get closer, and as soon as he reaches Will, he pulls him in, both hands tight on his waist.

Will lets out a soft, surprised breath against Mike’s collarbone. “What are you doing?” he asks, laughing.

“Nothing,” Mike murmurs, still smiling. Will’s shirt is a bit damp from sweat. Mike drops his head against Will’s, pressing a kiss there, Will’s hair tickling his face. He leans further down and presses another kiss to the side of Will’s neck, and then another between his neck and shoulder. “Just glad you’re here.”

Will snorts, like Mike said something stupid. But he softens against him, his arms going up to hug Mike back. “You’re being weird,” he whispers.

“Sorry,” Mike says, taking a long, deep breath. They stay like that for a few seconds, bodies warm against each other. Mike’s fingers gently brush over Will’s waist. Will’s hands move over his back. From inside the house, they hear Mike’s family. After a minute, Will’s hands go restless.

When he pulls away, their eyes meet, and for a second it’s awkward again, like it was this morning. And Mike realizes he’s the one causing it, he’s the one acting weird, doing things that aren’t normal for them, but he can’t really bring himself to care, or to stop.

Will gives him a small smile, his face flushed. Just like this morning he looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t. Instead, he grabs his bike to lean it against the wall, and Mike does the same. They enter the house and kick their shoes off.

“So,” Will says slowly, standing in the hallway. “You lost.”

“I did.”

There’s a pause. Will looks at him. There’s a glint in his eyes, and before Mike knows what’s going on, Will mutters “First in the basement wins,” and then he’s already running.

“Hey!” Mike shouts, following in an instant. He chases after him, their feet stomping on the floorboards, their laughter echoing across the walls.

“No running in the hallway!” Mike’s mom calls from the kitchen, and there’s his dad’s voice too from the living room, but they ignore them, because there are more important things to do right now.

Will pushes through the basement door and they race down the stairs, almost tripping over their feet. Mike tries to grab his shirt, but Will is too fast, his feet already hitting the basement floor.

“That wasn’t fair!” Mike calls, and he keeps chasing Will through the basement, almost crashing into the table, until he finally gets a hold of his shirt. Will lets out a sound that’s half shriek, half laughter, and then his feet collide with the mattress. When he loses balance, he grabs onto Mike’s arm, pulling him with him. Mike collapses on top of him in a mess of too long limbs and too little coordination.

“Oh my god,” Will gasps like the air is being punched out of him. He’s laughing so hard it sounds like he’s suffocating. He pushes Mike off him, rolling them around so he’s on top.

“Oh no, you’re not,” Mike says, rolling them around again, grinning, wide and wild. They used to wrestle as kids, until they couldn’t breathe, their faces bright red, and it’s a bit like that now, but it’s also very different, because the way Will looks up at Mike makes his stomach twist into a thousand knots.  

Mike pins both of Will’s hands on the mattress and grins down at him. “You’re trapped.”

Will’s eyes are bright as he smiles. “And you’re heavy.”

“Admit you cheated and I’ll let you go.”

“You cheated the first time and that didn’t help you either.”

This earns Will another attack. Mike digs his fingers into his ribs, making Will scream and tackle him again. They roll around for another minute, until the air leaves their lungs and they physically can’t laugh anymore.

“Okay, okay, stop.” Mike rolls them around one last time and then collapses on top of Will, his face pressed into the pillow beside Will’s head. Will breathes hard beneath him, bursts of giggles escaping his throat.

They catch their breath, and a moment later, as their laughter dies down, the room goes quiet, leaving only two boys, skin glowing from the sun, shirts sweaty and hearts hammering in an unsteady rhythm.

Mike can feel Will’s hair tickling his cheek. He feels his chest moving beneath him. Their legs are entangled, hips pressed together. And if he’s honest, he's been waiting for this since the moment they left the Byers’ house this morning.

When he lifts his head, their faces are very close. Will’s cheeks are flushed, eyes bright from all the laughing, hair a mess. His gaze is warm, flickering over Mike’s face, and Mike thinks about all the things he wants to ask him for. He asked for what he wanted last night. He can do it again.

Maybe, if he’s brave enough, he can ask for a kiss. Maybe, after everything, Will changed his mind.

The room is quiet, except for their panting. Mike doesn’t really know what to say.

Suddenly, it’s hard to remember the script of their friendship. What is it they’re supposed to do? Watch a movie on the couch, make a joke about the cheap special effects? Eat dinner with his family and sit through their boring conversations? Wait an hour, maybe two, until they get ready for bed, and one of them whispers something suggestively, finally allowing them to be close again?

Mike doesn’t really feel like doing all of that.

Instead, he leans down and presses a kiss to Will’s cheek. Will lets out a soft, breathless giggle. Mike spreads more kisses on Will’s ear and his neck, his hand sliding over his waist, pushing his shirt up.

“Mike, you’re –” Will starts but is interrupted by his own shaky intake of breath, when Mike kisses along his throat.

“Mhh?” Mike kisses up his jaw, his fingertips digging into the skin under his shirt, his stomach, his waist.

“I’m really sweaty,” Will whispers.

“Me too.”

It’s true. Their shirts are damp, their skin oily with layers of sunscreen. Will’s hair, where it brushes against Mike’s forehead, feels textured from the lake water.

Mike doesn’t care. He buries his face in Will’s neck and takes a deep breath. He always loved the smell of summer on skin. It smells warm somehow, earthy. He moves his face lower, over Will’s chest, then his ribs, under his arm. He’s known Will’s scent since they were five years old. It’s as familiar as his own.

Will squirms beneath him. Not hard enough to attempt to get free, but enough to make Mike pull back to look at him. Their eyes meet. Will’s lips are parted, his brows furrowed slightly.

“Sorry,” Mike says, blinking up at him. He moves his hand out of Will’s shirt. “Am I – being too much?”

Will stares at him. The answer doesn’t come naturally, it’s like he needs to think about it. Like it’s something that needs to be calculated. “No,” he says, finally.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Mike presses one final kiss to Will’s throat and then drops his head on his chest, exhaling deeply. The fabric of Will’s shirt is soft against his cheek. Will’s chest moves with every breath.

There’s a long silence.

“Mike,” Will whispers. He raises his hand and slowly threads his fingers through Mike’s hair.

“Yeah?”

“You’re acting different today.”

Mike stares at the wall. He knows he’s acting differently and maybe he should’ve made a better attempt at hiding it. Maybe he should’ve at least tried to remember what he was supposed to act like. He clears his throat. “Is that bad?”

A beat. Will’s fingers move through Mike’s curls. “No,” he whispers.

Maybe they really are on the same page about things.

Mike closes his eyes and smiles into Will’s shirt, his fingers gently brushing over the exposed skin of his waist, and he tells himself that it’s okay. It’s okay to act differently. It’s okay to ask for what he wants. It’s okay to say what’s on his mind.

“I really liked what we did last night,” he whispers.

Will doesn’t reply at first, but Mike can hear his breathing change. “You didn’t even get off,” he mumbles after a couple of seconds.  

“You got off for both of us.”

“Oh my god.” Will groans, laughing, his chest vibrating against Mike’s cheek.

Mike grins, eyes closed. “So… did you like it, too?”

“It was alright, I guess.”

“Wow,” Mike says. “I made this guy come twice and he thought it was alright. Next time I’ll go for three orgasms, got it.”

Will giggles and Mike loves how he’s able to hear it through his chest. He presses his ear a bit closer until he can make out the faint sound of Will’s heartbeat. He grins, wide, when he hears it.

“You liked it,” he says. “Admit it.”  

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

Will sighs. “It was fine.”

“Wow, okay, I guess we won’t be doing that again.”

Will laughs. “Mike.”

“Yeah?”

“You were perfect.”

Mike’s heart flutters. “Really?” He grins, his chest suddenly feeling so full, his face hurts from smiling and he knows it’s stupid, but he doesn’t care. He grabs the hem of Will’s shirt, fidgeting. “Okay – um, cool. That’s good. I wasn’t sure, because you know…” He trails off.

“What?”

“Because of what happened afterwards.”

“What do you mean?”

“You cried.”

There’s a pause, and Mike can hear a change in Will’s heartbeat. It feels a little unfair to listen to it, like a private conversation, not meant for his ears, but Mike finds himself unable to move. Will clears his throat. “Um, yeah,” he says.

“People don’t usually cry after I touch them.”

“Oh, right,” Will scoffs. “All the people you’re touching.”

Mike smiles. “Exactly.”

There’s a pause. Mike waits for Will to say more and maybe Will can tell, because he keeps taking breaths that sound like he’s going to say something. “I just tear up easily,” he says, finally. “You know that.”

Mike stares at the wall. It’s true, Will used to tear up all the time when they were younger. There were so many reasons to cry, back when the world was ending, and even before that. As a kid Mike was used to it, always offering Will a comforting shoulder even if he didn’t have the right words to make things better. “Yeah, I know,” he says quietly. “I guess I’m just not used to… being the cause of that.”

Beneath Mike’s ear, Will’s heart stops and then thumps in an unsteady rhythm that’s a little too fast. There’s a pause. A long pause. Long enough for Mike to think about what he just said.

And he doesn’t like to admit it, but maybe he had been the cause of Will’s tears before. Will cried after their fight in the rain when they were fourteen. He cried in the van in California, and Mike never figured out why, but it kept him up at night for weeks. Will cried during his coming out, too, stumbling over his words, making the confession sound like a death sentence. He cried when he told them he had a crush on someone who didn’t like him back, and Mike knew he meant him.

The crush Will had on him was over before Mike found out about it. And even if Will probably never cried about him, maybe he did cry about the hiding, the secrets, the loneliness that came with it. Maybe he was just really good at hiding it.

Will still hasn’t replied. Mike lets out a deep breath. His hand finds Will’s on the mattress, and he slowly laces their fingers together. He looks at their hands, watching his own thumb run over Will’s skin. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, not sure what he’s apologizing for.

Will is very still beneath him. Mike can hear him swallow. “Last night was… kinda intense,” he says, finally, letting out a quiet breath. “I was just overwhelmed.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Mike draws circles over the back of Will’s hand. Will is quiet for a while, his fingertips moving over Mike’s scalp. A minute passes in silence, then another. Then, finally, Will lets out a long, deep breath.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll tell you.”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you why I cried.”

Mike’s heart lurches. He looks up, staring at Will like he’s about to learn the most important secret in the world. “Yeah?” he whispers.

They look at each other for a few seconds, faces close. “It’s a secret,” Will whispers, as he brushes a curl from Mike’s forehead. “So you’re gonna have to come a little closer.”

Mike’s eyes flicker over Will’s face. “Okay.”

He loosens his grip on Will and moves to settle down beside him, get on eye-level, but Will has other plans. The second Mike stops weighing him down, he pushes him off, his hand firm on Mike’s shoulder. He rolls them around, until Mike’s back hits the mattress and he lets out a surprised gasp. Will follows immediately, straddling him, his thighs warm and solid around Mike’s hips.

Will looks at him, a victorious smile on his face. “So easy,” he murmurs. His expression is changed now, the hesitation gone, and there, sitting on top of Mike, he looks so confident, so shameless, Mike finds it hard to grasp that this is the same boy he grew up with. Will leans closer, hovering over him, and Mike’s gaze drops to his mouth, lips full and unkissed, and right there.

“Not fair,” Mike whispers.

Will gives him another smile, before he drops his mouth to Mike’s ear. For a few seconds, he says nothing, his breath hot on Mike’s skin. “So,” he whispers finally. “Should I tell you?”

“Yeah,” Mike whispers back. “Please.”

It’s quiet in the room except for their breathing. A minute passes without a word. Will presses a kiss below Mike’s ear, and it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He swallows, his heart racing in anticipation.

“I cried,” Will whispers, his hand sliding to the back of Mike’s neck, thumb on his throat, “because your fingers were driving me insane, Mike.”

Mike’s eyes flutter shut. He brings his hands up to rest against Will’s waist, as he feels the conversation turning into something different, something familiar.

“I cried,” Will continues, pressing a kiss to Mike’s skin, then another, “because you were so fucking good at it.”

Mike shudders, letting out a quiet noise. Heat rushes through his body, and suddenly he’s too aware of Will’s weight on him, of the way their bodies are pressed together.

“I cried,” Will continues, hands brushing through Mike’s hair, “because no matter how many times I imagined your fingers inside me,” his lips touch Mike’s skin with every word, “I wasn’t prepared for how fucking crazy you’d make me feel.”

Mike’s grip on Will’s waist tightens. His body reacts embarrassingly fast. “Yeah?” he croaks out, breathless. “So it – wasn’t too much?”

“Oh, it was way too much,” Will breathes, hot against his skin. “But I liked it.”

Will’s hips give a slow roll, his ass grinding down on Mike’s groin, and Mike lets out a surprised moan, that’s way too loud in the quiet room.

He wasn’t even horny before, but now he wants them to be naked. He wants to put his face between Will’s legs. He wants to touch and taste him and see how many times he can make him come this time.

“I can’t believe you made me feel like this with just your fingers,” Will whispers. He presses more kisses on Mike’s neck, his hips moving in a slow rhythm. “Makes me wonder what your dick could do to me.”

Mike’s hips jerk forward, his fingertips digging into the warm skin beneath Will’s shirt. “Wanna find out?” he whispers.

Their breathing is loud. Mike’s heart is racing and he can feel the pressure of Will’s dick, heavy against his stomach. He remembers seeing it last night, and the memory makes his mouth go dry. He pulls Will closer, making his dick rub against him. Will lets out a soft sound against his neck.

He doesn’t reply, and maybe that’s good, because right now, Mike has no idea what he’d do if Will asked him to fuck him. He’s lost sight of the line minutes ago, hell, maybe days ago, and he’s not sure if he could say something dirty right now and not mean it. He moves his hands from Will’s waist down to his ass, slipping them into the back pockets of his jeans, pulling him closer. Will sighs at the touch, kissing along Mike’s neck, his hips rolling forwards. For a minute, they move against each other. It’s way too hot in the room.

“Can we –” Mike croaks out.

“What?”

“Too many clothes.”

“Yeah.”

Will’s hand slides down between them, unbuttoning Mike’s shorts, the sound of the zipper loud in the room. Mike helps him get them off, before doing the same with Will’s. He pulls his shirt off, and then tugs on the hem of Will’s, helping him pull it off, too.

Will lets out a quiet laugh when Mike pushes him back against the mattress with a different kind of urgency, and yeah, maybe Mike is being a bit too much, but Will said it was fine, didn’t he?

“Mike,” Will whispers, his hands sinking back into his hair as Mike gets on top of him, kissing along Will’s neck, his chest, his ribs, his stomach like he’s starving and honestly, this is what it feels like. He wants to lick every bit of sweat off his skin, or else he might go insane. “This is –” Will laughs again but it catches in his throat, when Mike sucks on the skin of his stomach.

It’s ridiculous to think there was a time they didn’t do this. Mike kisses just above Will’s belly button. Will’s breathing is rough beneath him, his hands tugging on Mike’s hair. And Mike wants to tell him. Because he’s full of this feeling and he wants to share it, he wants to let Will know just how much he wants this.

“You know,” Mike whispers between kisses, “I was kinda going crazy about this.”

“What?” Will breathes, voice hoarse.

“I wanted to touch you,” Mike mumbles, digging his fingers into Will’s hips. “Really badly.”

Will stills for half a second, then his breathing goes faster. He doesn’t reply, and Mike thinks maybe he should learn to keep things to himself, but before he can worry too much, Will’s voice cuts through the silence, so quiet Mike almost misses it. “I wanted that, too.”

Mike looks up at him. “Yeah?” he asks, a stupid smile on his face. “For how long?”

Has Will been thinking about it this whole week, just like Mike has?

Will takes a few seconds to reply. His eyes are wide, flickering between Mike’s. “Um,” he says a little breathlessly. “A while.”

A while.

Will’s expression is wild like it was yesterday, open and vulnerable. His skin is glowing with sweat, his face flushed. Mike’s eyes drift down his body. The body that Mike wanted to touch all week. That Will wanted Mike to touch for a while. What’s a while? A few days, a week? A month? Maybe even since they started their game?

Mike presses kisses under Will’s belly button. He runs his nose through the hairs that disappear into Will’s boxers. He looks at the way the fabric strains over the hard shape of his bulge.

If Will wants Mike to touch him, then maybe all Mike has to do is ask. The worst thing that can happen is for Will to say no, and that’s fine, too. Mike can handle it.  

“Um, Will?” As soon as he speaks, he remembers how hard it is to communicate these things. He remembers why he struggled for so many days. He turns bright red. “Can I – um…”

“What?”

“I want to…” Mike hesitates, fingers brushing against the front of Will’s waistband. His cheeks burn and he looks at Will’s stomach, avoiding his eyes. “Here… Um, I wanna put my face… there.”

When he looks up, Will stares at him. His expression is complicated, and there’s some of that defensiveness from yesterday that causes a wave of anxiety to rush through Mike, like maybe he said the wrong thing again.

“I mean –” he stutters, trying to make this better. “Um, above your clothes.”

Will stares down at him. “You want –”

Mike swallows. “Can I?”

Will looks like he doesn’t really understand why Mike would want such a thing. He almost looks like he wants to ask, and Mike is glad he doesn’t, because honestly, he couldn’t tell him. Will hesitates, like he’s waiting for Mike to change his mind.

But then Mike sees something else in Will’s eyes. The same need that’s consuming him, like the suggestion leaves him wanting it, just like Mike wants it. Will clears his throat, his face bright red. “Um, you can…” he whispers. “If you want to.”

“I want to.” Mike swallows, suddenly so excited he feels like his heart might jump out of his chest. He presses his mouth back on Will’s stomach, kissing lower, kissing over the hairs there. His nose brushes against the waistband. His mouth moves against the fabric. Will lets out a quiet, restrained noise.

The heat of Will seeps through his boxers, and Mike can feel it on his skin as he brings his face lower. He looks up at Will to make sure he’s still okay with it, but Will seems to be somewhere else entirely. Somehow his eyes have darkened over the past minute. His lips are parted, his gaze glued to Mike’s face, transfixed by the sight. Mike’s stomach twists in excitement. He lowers himself and slowly rubs his face against Will’s groin. And then he feels it, his nose tracing the outline of Will’s dick through the fabric.

Mike takes a deep breath. He shudders, and his body is buzzing now, like a switch flips. “Fuck,” he mutters against the fabric.

Will is very still. Like he’s holding his breath. Like he’s trying very hard not to make a sound.

Mike kind of needs him to make a sound.

He lets his hands trail over Will’s thighs, spreading them, and puts his face between them. He runs his face along the shape of Will’s dick, gentle, just feeling it out, brushing it with his cheek, his nose, his forehead. It’s hot. He can smell it. He can feel it pulsing. He can feel it twitch.

“Mike, I’m –”

Mike brushes his nose along the outline, all the way up to the tip. He’s slow, teasing, then adds a bit more pressure. The fabric around the head of Will’s dick is damp with precum, and feeling the wetness on his skin makes Mike’s hips jerk involuntarily. Slowly, he runs his tongue over it, the salty taste leaking through Will’s boxers. Mike lets out a quiet moan and laps against the fabric, taking a deep breath, tasting him, smelling him.

“Oh god,” Will whimpers. He sounds so far away.

When Mike looks up, Will has both hands buried in the sheets. Mike slowly reaches up and grabs Will’s wrist, guiding it towards his own head. Will understands immediately, burying his fingers in Mike’s hair. When Mike slowly kisses along the length of his bulge, Will lets out a breathy moan, tugging at his hair.

“Fuck, Will,” Mike murmurs, nosing along the length, his fingers digging into Will’s thighs. “You’re so fucking hard.”

Will moans breathily, his eyes wide, his grip in Mike’s hair tightening. He looks close already and Mike doesn’t want him to come yet, so he slows down a little. He drops his head on Will’s groin, just breathing him in, and gently moves his hands further up the inside of his thighs, under the leg of his boxers to where the hickeys are. He turns his head to look at them, the blue and purple colors, and he touches them, gentle at first, then a little harder, until Will lets out a noise that’s more pain than pleasure.

“Sorry,” Mike says. “Hurts?”

“Yeah,” Will whispers. He swallows. “Um. But keep going –” He stills, like he’s embarrassed. “Please?”

Something about Will’s request is almost shy, like he didn’t just ask Mike to hurt him, and Mike thinks he might go insane over this side of Will. The one that says it’s too much but wants to keep going. The one that says it hurts and then asks for more.

“Yeah,” he whispers. He mouths at the warm shape of Will’s dick, as he gently runs his fingers over the bruises. When he adds more pressure, rubbing his thumb against it, Will lets out a quiet, breathy moan. He’s hard beneath Mike’s face, leaking under his skin. Mike licks over the full length, the white fabric wet with spit and precum, making it more see-through where it clings to Will’s skin. Mike mouths at the tip where it’s salty, and Will lets out a shaky moan, hips pushing up.

“Can you,” he whispers, a tremor going through his thighs. “Can you do that again?”

Mike moans into the fabric, sucking at his tip through his boxers, keeping his fingers buried in Will’s thighs. “I love when you do that,” he mutters, licking and mouthing at the wet fabric.

“What?”

“When you ask for what you want.” Mike takes another deep breath, as he looks up at Will. “You’re so good at it.”

Will stares at him, his eyes dark and clouded as he watches Mike move over him. “I’m not,” he whispers. “I’m not that good at it.”

Mike pulls away just an inch, his fingers dug into Will’s thighs. Will stares right back at him, his eyes flickering. And then Mike thinks about all the things Will might want that he isn’t asking for. It makes Mike’s stomach drop.

He leans down again, pressing kisses over him, softer now. “I want you to ask for anything,” he whispers. He moves his mouth to Will’s thigh, kissing along the inside of it. “No matter what it is.”

Will’s breath hitches, and he spreads his legs more, trembling under Mike’s hands and mouth. Mike gently tugs at the flesh with his teeth, licking over the bruises, and he feels drunk with the sounds that fall from Will’s throat.

“Anything you want,” Mike whispers, burying his nose in Will’s heated skin. “Anything you ever dreamed of.”

A sound escapes Will’s throat. When Mike looks up, Will’s expression is somehow vulnerable, and it’s like he’s listening, he’s really listening now, hanging onto every word Mike says.

“Whatever it is.” Mike’s lips brush over Will’s skin, fingers digging into his thighs. “I want to give it to you.”

And then, suddenly, it’s like the world is falling apart.

Because Will’s eyes are wet. Again. Mike stares up at him. His stomach drops, his hands still.

“Sorry –” he says in his normal voice, pulling away. He glances down, trying to see where he hurt him. The hickeys on his thighs look redder now, wet with spit, and he realizes that maybe he shouldn’t dig his teeth into a bruise. “I’m hurting you, aren’t I?”

Will clears his throat, his voice strained. “A little.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

They look at each other. Then Will blinks, wiping his eye, and leans forward. Mike doesn’t have time to be worried, because Will is pulling him up and rolling them around again, like they’re still wrestling. He brings his hand to the back of Mike’s neck and now he’s the one pressing kisses along his skin. Mike closes his eyes, breath hitching, as he feels the wetness of Will's bulge against his. It makes it hard to concentrate on anything else.

“Anything I want?” Will asks, his voice breathy and a bit shaky.  

“Anything,” Mike promises.

Will’s hips move in a slow rhythm and Mike keeps him close with both hands on his waist. Slowly he moves his hands lower to Will’s ass, pulling him closer.

“I wanna touch you,” Mike mutters and he hopes that even though they’re whispering Will knows that he means it, he really means it. “Wherever you want to be touched.”

They rub against each other, bodies hot. The soft noises Will makes are loud in Mike’s ear. When it gets too hot, Mike rolls them around again, so he’s on top, spreading kisses along Will’s neck, the movement of their hips going faster.

Slowly, their breaths turn into moans. Mike can tell Will is close from the way his movements get messier, his fingers tugging on Mike’s curls.

Mike wants to watch him come. He presses his elbow into the mattress, holding himself up so he can look at him. He moves his hips in a different angle, watching Will’s face. Will stares up at him, face glowing, hair sticking to his forehead, and it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when he’s so goddamn beautiful.

He could just ask him. What’s the worst that could happen?

Will could say no, and that would be okay. But if there’s a small chance that he wants it too, then asking should be worth it, right? After all, today is different. Maybe today, Mike can be the brave one.

He leans in, taking a shaky breath. “I wanna kiss you,” he whispers. He presses soft kisses along Will’s jaw, his lips brushing over his skin. “Wherever you want to be kissed.”

He moves his mouth further up, lost in the moment. His hand slips to the back of Will’s neck, threading his fingers through his hair, thumb pressing into the skin behind his ear. He nudges Will’s jaw with his nose, then moves a bit higher. His hair falls into Will’s face as he presses a kiss to his chin. A kiss to his nose. A kiss to the mole above his upper lip.

“Can I?” he whispers.

Will’s eyes are closed, his lips parted, his breath heavy, and when he speaks, he sounds like he’s not really here at all. “What?”

“Kiss you.”

Their mouths are close. Mike can feel Will’s shaky breath on his face, and the warmth radiating from his skin. Will opens his eyes and his gaze drops to Mike’s mouth. He’s completely still. For a few seconds they don’t breathe.

Mike waits. Hovers. His mouth aches from the need to move closer. His fingertips press into Will’s neck, his jaw, his cheek. His heart is beating way too fast, and he doesn’t really understand why, but somehow this feels different from anything else he’s asked for.

Finally, Will moves. His fingers run through Mike’s hair, and for a second Mike thinks he might pull him in, but then Will places both his hands on Mike’s face and pushes, just slightly, creating more space between their faces. He swallows visibly, his gaze moving over Mike’s face. “Um,” he whispers. “Mike, I –” Again, his gaze drops to Mike’s mouth. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

It’s a gentle rejection, not like the one at the lake. But still, Mike’s stomach drops. He swallows, and lets out a quiet breath that was meant to be a laugh but now it’s just a weak exhale. His eyes flicker between Will’s. It’s not a good idea? Why not?

Why not?

Suddenly, the air is sucked out of the room. The heat feels uncomfortable. “Yeah, sorry,” Mike says, clearing his throat. His heart is racing, and this time he manages to let out a quiet laugh, trying to break the tension, but it sounds hollow. He’s made it awkward again, like he has been all day. “You’re right – um, it’s a bad idea. I don’t know why I said that.”

Will stares at him, and he looks like he’s not breathing. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t explain anything. He doesn’t have to.

Mike was prepared for another rejection. Because no matter how much courage you work up to tell someone what you want, there’s nothing you can do to make them want it, too. He knows that. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, again. “Um. You already told me you didn’t want it, I shouldn’t have asked again. I’m sorry.”

Something in Will’s eyes softens. They still look a little teary from when Mike was biting his thighs. “It’s okay,” he whispers. He reaches up and brushes his hand through Mike’s hair, and maybe it should be comforting, but something about it makes Mike’s heart clench. Will leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his neck. “We don’t have to stop.”

“Yeah.” Mike swallows. “Okay.” He should be grateful Will isn’t making a big deal out of it, so he tries to relax his body and closes his eyes. Tries to concentrate on the friction between their hips. The softness of Will’s lips on his neck. The gentleness of his fingers in his hair. The things Will is giving to him. Why can’t that be enough? Why is Mike so goddamn greedy?

Sure, last night felt special. It felt like a big deal, and maybe Mike thought Will would trust him with his first kiss, just like he trusted him with his body. After all, he said he didn’t need his first kiss to be anything special. But then why can’t it not be special with Mike?

He takes a deep, shaky breath. Maybe he does feel a little rejected. And maybe he feels a little sick.

“Mike?”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

Mike swallows. “Yeah, I just –” His hands drop from Will’s body. It’s useless. He rolls off him, his skin too hot. Something burns inside his stomach like acid.  

“You wanna stop?”

“I just – need to catch my breath for a second.”

“Okay.”

Mike stares at the wall and tries to fight the sinking feeling in his stomach. He knows he’s being unreasonable. This shouldn’t be a thing, at all. They’re best friends, there’s no reason for them to kiss.

But Will used to have a little crush on him. Which, Mike would hope, meant he wouldn’t be repulsed by him. And Mike’s not the one who came out, he’s not the one who used to have a crush, but he would kiss him. He wouldn’t even hesitate.

Will doesn’t want that, which is fine. Mike’s not going to push it. He’s not entitled to it. He just doesn’t understand why.

“Mike?” Will asks, nudging his leg.

He just doesn’t get it. Why are they overstepping all these lines, blurring all boundaries but kissing is the one thing that’s an immediate no?

And Mike knows Will doesn’t need to have a reason. Saying no should be enough.

“You’re quiet.”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

Mike runs his hand over his forehead. He doesn’t understand why he’s so anxious. He got what he wanted, didn’t he? He got to touch Will. Why does he keep craving more and more and more?

“I’m just – being stupid,” he says. Will stares at him. Mike doesn’t really want to be looked at right now. He clears his throat, and realizes it’s only going to get worse if he doesn’t do something now. “I think – uh, I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Oh,” Will says, a little breathless. His eyes are wide, his cheeks still flushed, body heated from what they were doing before Mike had to go and ruin it. “Okay.”

Mike wipes his hands on his thighs and gets up, feeling Will’s gaze on him as he heads towards the bathroom, stepping over the piles of clothes. He closes the door, and leans against it for a minute, taking long, deep breaths. Then he steps into the shower and turns the water cold.

There’s no reason to be freaking out. There’s absolutely nothing wrong. Everything’s cool. Things are good. Mike is not going to die if they don’t kiss. They don’t have to kiss.

In a way, he’s always been like this. Stubborn and entitled. Even as a kid, he found it hard to accept whenever he was denied something. Maybe it’s like this now – this stupid, childish part of him that, as soon as it hears the word “no”, feels like it has to do everything possible to get what it wants. It’s dumb. It’s silly. It’s making him act weird. It’s making Will think he’s acting weird. He needs to stop.

He stands in the shower for what feels like five minutes, before he brushes his teeth. He meets his own eyes in the mirror and wonders if there’s something about him that makes Will not want to kiss him. He sighs, frustrated. He’s being so goddamn stupid.

By the time he gets out of the bathroom, Will is still on the mattress, looking like he hasn’t moved an inch. He’s fidgeting, his hands playing with the blanket. He looks up when Mike enters, sitting straight.

They look at each other. Will clears his throat. Mike needs to say something. He takes a deep breath.

“Um.” He's still standing in the doorway. “Sorry for being weird. I feel better now. I just – I was just a little too hot.”

Will stares at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

“We can talk about it if you want.”

“No, um. It’s really fine.” Mike clears his throat. Be normal. What’s a normal thing to say? “Are you tired? Should we go sleep?”

Will doesn’t look tired. He looks like he wants to talk more, but Mike isn’t sure what he’d do if Will starts asking questions. “Um. Yeah,” Will says finally. “Yeah, let’s sleep.”

He gets up and spends the next ten minutes in the bathroom, taking a shower and getting ready for bed. Mike crawls under the blanket and stares at the ceiling.

He tries to think of normal things. Things he could say to Will when he comes back to the room. Maybe he could ask him if he’s excited for the party tomorrow. Maybe they could talk about what movie to watch next. 

The sound of the bathroom door is loud in the quiet room. Will slips under his blanket, lying on his own mattress. They haven’t slept this far apart from each other in weeks.

It’s quiet. Mike fidgets with the blanket. He needs to say something. Something that isn’t stupid. Something normal. He clears his throat. “Will?” he asks into the silence.

“Yeah?”

And then, without really meaning to, the words just fall from his throat, and he kind of surprises himself because he thought it couldn’t get any stupider. “Um,” he says, clearing his throat. “Do you think I’m attractive?”

“What?”

Mike wants to sink into the mattress, disappear into the floor. He presses his eyes closed. This is so dumb. He’s so stupid. Apparently, Mike is pathetic enough to beg for compliments the minute he gets rejected. But he can’t back off now. “Do you think I’m attractive?” he asks again. 

Will turns to face him, eyebrows twisted in a funny way. There’s something like a laugh tugging at his lips, and even though Mike is embarrassed, he’s also glad because somehow it lifts the tension. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Uh…” Mike’s face burns under Will’s eyes. “I don’t know, I mean, I know I’m not… all that, but I guess, since you’re gay, I thought that you might have an opinion on that. I mean – on me.”

Will watches Mike’s face closely. “Is this about me not wanting to kiss you?”

“No,” Mike says, blinking. “Well, maybe a little bit.”

“It’s not about you not being attractive, Mike it’s just –”

“No, you don’t have to explain,” Mike interrupts him. The last thing he wants is for Will to have to defend himself for not wanting to kiss him. He couldn’t think of anything more humiliating. “I guess I just wanna know – uh, you’re not repulsed by me, right?”

Will laughs. “No,” he says. “I’m not.”

Mike bites his lip. He’s not fully convinced, because even though he didn’t want to, he’s been going through all the possible reasons Will might not want to kiss him, and this was one of them.

Will’s eyes move over Mike’s face, slowly, like he’s trying to read him. His brows are furrowed and the line of his mouth looks a bit tense, and Mike doesn’t understand why, because Will’s not the one being rejected. And he still hasn’t answered the question. 

“So, what do you think?”

“What?”

“Of me?”

Will stares at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I just want you to answer the question.”

Will hesitates. “You’re attractive,” he says, but his voice is strained, like he didn’t want to say it. 

Mike narrows his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

Will rolls his eyes, and he lets out a laugh, but his mouth is still tense. “I’m not just saying that.”

“Um, okay.” Mike isn’t sure if he believes him, but he doesn’t push it. “Thanks.”

He thought he’d feel better but he’s just made it a million times more awkward. There’s another silence, a longer one. Will turns on his back and closes his eyes, like he’s trying to sleep. Mike does the same. He tries to calm his breathing, but his heart is still hammering, and he still feels too open, too raw, too confused.

They’re so far apart. Mike hates it. He swallows. After a few minutes of silence, he shifts a bit closer, slowly moving to Will’s mattress. Will doesn’t say anything but his eyes open to look at Mike. Mike lies down beside him. Their shoulders brush.

This is better. Not great, but better. Maybe he can fall asleep like this. And in the morning, he’ll forget about it. He’ll forget that he wants to kiss Will, and that Will doesn’t want to kiss him. He’ll stop being greedy. They’ll go to this stupid party and have fun and be normal.

“Okay,” Will whispers into the silence. “I’ll tell you one thing.”

“What?”

“One thing that’s attractive about you.”

Mike swallows, keeping his eyes closed. This is humiliating. He’s acting dumb enough to make Will feel guilty, forcing him to say something nice about him, even though he obviously doesn’t want to. “You don’t have to,” Mike whispers. 

Will is quiet for a few seconds. “I know.” He turns to face Mike and then Mike feels Will’s fingers move through his hair, brushing a curl from his forehead. “This,” he says.

Mike keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to look into Will’s face because all he’ll do is wonder if he’s telling the truth, or if this is just some twisted version of their sweet talk. “My hair?” he asks. 

“Yeah.”

Somehow, despite everything, this information soothes something in him. He feels his body relax, just a little bit. “What else?” he asks, before he can stop himself, realizing he probably sounds greedy, but his mind is latching onto anything to make him feel better right now.  

“I said I’d only tell you one thing.”

Mike lets out a deep sigh. “Guess that’s all there is, then.”

Will laughs breathily. “No.” His hand moves down Mike’s face, brushing his cheek. When he speaks, his voice is quiet and a bit shaky, and he sounds off somehow, but Mike can’t quite place it. “Your freckles,” Will whispers. “I like them.”

“Really?”

Will hums softly. “The ones on your face.” He trails his fingers over Mike’s cheek and nose and then moves it over his shoulder. “And these, too. I like that they’re all over your body.”

He sounds genuine. Like finding things to like about Mike is easy for him, and Mike hopes he isn’t lying, he hopes he isn’t just saying this to make him feel better. Will’s fingers brush over the freckles on Mike’s shoulders, his arms, his back, like he’s mapping them out. His touch is featherlight. Mike feels goosebumps on his arms. He keeps his eyes closed and waits for Will to go on, hoping there’s more.

Slowly, Will brushes along Mike’s arm until his fingers reach the back of his hand. Mike opens his fist and they lace their fingers together. “I like your hands,” Will whispers. His voice almost sounds emotional. Something about it makes Mike’s chest ache. But he still chooses to believe him, at least for tonight. “I like how tall you are. I like that you’re taller than me.”

Mike’s breathing slows. His heart is still heavy, but it feels bearable now. He sinks into the pillow and lets Will’s words soothe the sting in his chest. 

Will lets out a quiet breath. “Are you falling asleep?”

“Yeah,” Mike mumbles, nuzzling into Will’s shoulder. 

Will’s breathing is a bit shaky. Mike thinks he might stop, but he keeps going. Mike drifts into sleep, only catches pieces of Will’s words. “I love the scent of your skin,” he hears him whisper. “It’s so familiar.”

Will’s voice is wavering. Maybe he’s getting sleepy too. Mike feels his fingers brush his face.

“I love your eyes,” Will whispers. “I love your nose.” A short pause. “I love your mouth.”

If you love my mouth, then why won’t you kiss me? Mike thinks in his sleepy mind. He allows himself to picture it, kissing Will, as he feels the gentle touch of his thumb against his cheek, tracing his nose, his brows, hovering above his lips. 

“I always loved your face,” Will whispers, his voice so quiet Mike isn’t sure it was meant for his ears at all. 

It’s the last thing he hears, before he drifts into sleep.