Chapter Text
The scent of coffee grounds and maple syrup hangs in the air as Will sits down on the worn leather seat of a booth. Mike sits across from him, his hair slightly tousled from sleep and his shirt wrinkled. As he gets comfortable, he gives Mike a lazy smile. He’s still tired from spending the last twenty-fours in Mike’s beat-up station wagon and it’s all he has the energy for.
Will reaches for his menu, the laminated casing somewhat sticky as he grabs it. He instinctively pulls his hand away and grimaces, rubbing his palm on his cargo shorts for a moment before perusing the options. It's what he’d expected at a small town diner: toast, eggs, and a few variations of something off the griddle.
Will moves his eyes over the pictures that line the oak paneled walls of the diner as Mike continues to read through his menu. The window beside their table—the frame, painted an evergreen color, chipped and revealing the wooden trim beneath it looks out at a swath of balsam firs and white pines. It’s pretty, the way they’re slightly blurred behind the hazy windowpane. The diner itself is small, only a few tables scattered around the carpet tile flooring which is peeling where it meets the wall. In a weird way, he likes how small and worn the diner is. It makes it feel lived-in.
A waitress, a young woman probably still in college, takes their order. Her floral perfume lingers in the air as she greets them; it makes Will’s head hurt a little. She’s soft-spoken as she takes their order, her metal bracelet making a soft thud as it hits against her notepad.
“So, how did you sleep?” Mike asks, voice still low and raspy given how early it is.
They made it to Maine last night after two long days of driving. It's nice to finally be here, for it to not just be a vague idea sitting in the back of his mind.
He and Mike had first started talking about going to Maine at the start of their summer break a few months ago, something to look forward to after graduating, and Will had spent those months waiting for July to finally roll around. It was something to cling onto.
“Good, you?”
“Fine,” he shrugs. “Still a little tired though.”
“Weird,” Will says dryly.
Mike furrows his brows. “What?”
“I don’t know, those two coffees you had definitely couldn’t have been the issue.”
“They were necessary!” Mike retorts. “I didn’t wanna,” he gestures vaguely with his hands, “I don’t know, pass out at the wheel or whatever.”
“Right,” he says incredulously, his gaze soft.
“What, you don’t believe me?” he says, pretending to sound hurt.
Will shakes his head, trying to hide his growing smile.
It's not long until their food arrives and plates of stacked pancakes, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns crowd the table. Silence settles over them as they shove bites of food into their mouths. The pancakes are warm—and, if Will’s being honest, a little dense; but they’re good. He savors the taste of cinnamon and butter they leave on his tongue.
After finishing nearly everything they ordered, he and Mike throw some cash on the table and head toward the door. It creaks shut behind them as they step outside. The warmth creeps into his skin as he steps outside, the sun finally heating the air into something that feels more like summer. As he walks through the parking lot toward Mike’s car, Mike turns on his heel, walking backward so he can face him.
“Did you, uh, wanna try that trail today?” Mike raises his eyebrows as he asks. “The one that goes to the lake?”
“Yeah,” he nods, his eyes crinkling.
Mike flashes him a small smile.
When they get to the car, Mike immediately heads to the driver’s side—he’s been insistent on driving. Will doesn’t know why because he has his license too, but whatever.
The door handle is warm under his palm as he opens the door and crawls into the passenger seat. Mike is rummaging through the middle console beside him. It takes a minute before he pulls out a cassette tape: Tears for Fears’ Songs from the Big Chair.
“Is this okay?” he asks, holding the tape between his fingers.
“Yeah,” Will nods.
“Cool.” His lips are gently pursed, a hint of a smile there, as he shoves the cassette into the tape deck. He starts the ignition and drives off.
The morning sun has made the car stuffy, so Will cranks down his window and lets the fresh breeze slide in. It feels nice against his skin and it makes the handheld map that sits on his lap as he reads out directions ruffle.
Next to him, Mike is mouthing the lyrics to Head over Heels, his fingers drumming the rhythm against the steering wheel. He glances over at Will, just staring for a moment before leaning in, amusement painting his face. Will just looks at him, a little confused, until he starts singing to him, loudly, flitting his eyes between him and the road. His voice is terrible: nasally and completely off-pitch. It makes Will laugh.
As the song goes on, he, somehow, only gets more annoying, flailing his right arm around as he sings.
“Mike, stop!”
“What, you don’t like my awesome singing?” he teases, eyebrows furrowed in feigned offense.
“No!” he giggles, looking down at his lap.
Mike’s brows smooth over as the mock indignation dissipates and a small smile takes its place.
They finally make it to the parking lot after only one wrong turn. The car vibrates as it rolls over the loose gravel. When it finally stutters to a stop under a spot of shade, Will gets out and leans against the side of it, waiting for Mike to get his backpack.
They make their way to the trailhead together. Will squints against the sunlight that paints the trees around him a golden color, savoring the faint scent of pine and something sweet that hangs in the air.
They start the hike energetically, but it doesn’t take long until Will’s skin becomes damp and he starts to pant as the brutal heat pierces through him. And the hill—which is much steeper than he initially thought—makes his legs sore. Beside him, Mike isn’t doing much better; his hair is extra curly at the ends where sweat is soaked through and he looks like each step is taking all of his energy.
“God, it's so hot,” Mike whines.
“I feel like I’m about to melt,” Will echoes as sweat beads at his temple
“I don’t think…I’m athletic enough for this,” he heaves through ragged breaths.
“Yeah, me neither.”
“Then why did we think this was a good idea?” He asks it like a genuine question.
“No idea,” Will shrugs.
When they finally make it to the lake, everything blurs together in swatches of green and blue, the reflection of the pine trees bleeding into the water. Will appreciates it for only a moment before rushing to find any bit of shade. He finds one on a rock hidden under the trees and sits down instantly, stretching out his legs and resting his palms on the cool surface beneath him. It feels good on his warm skin.
The wind blows gently Mike sits down beside him. He has two towels: one in his hand and the other flung over his shoulder.
“Did you, uh, wanna go in?” He asks, gesturing toward the towels.
They didn’t talk about where they were going this morning so Will isn’t wearing swim shorts—neither is Mike—but honestly, he doesn’t care. He is desperate for any sense of relief from the relentless heat.
Will nods. “Is it okay if we wait a minute, though?” he huffs. “I’m still a little tired.”
“Of course, Will.” His voice is so gentle it flusters him a little. He drops his gaze down to his lap.
The escape from the heat is nice. He takes a few breaths in through his nose as he lets the cool breeze glide across his skin. His eyelids close, his head falls back, and his limbs are languid as he shifts them to get more comfortable. He stays like that for a few minutes before finally turning to Mike.
“Wanna go in now?”
“Yeah,” he nods.
Will rises to his feet and wipes his palms against his shorts. The rock is cold and gritty beneath his feet after he pulls off his worn-in Converse and socks. He pauses at the hem of his shirt, twisting the fabric around his fingers before hesitantly tugging it over his head. He’s never really liked having his shirt off in front of people, it always makes him feel too exposed, too seen.
As he leaves the safety of the shade, it doesn’t take long for him to fall victim to the brutal heat again. It beats against his back and makes the surface of the rocks beneath his feet feel like fire.
“How is it still so hot,” Mike mutters a few feet in front of him. He’s stopped right where the rocks meet the water.
“I don’t know,” Will says, as he climbs down to him.
When Will makes it to the water, they both dip their feet in at the same time. As soon as the water makes contact with his skin, he shudders from how cold it is.
“Holy shit—”
“—Jesus Christ.”
They say it at the same time before bursting into a fit of giggles.
“How can water even get that cold?”
Will shrugs. “Beats me.”
After standing for a minute, his body starts to adjust to the temperature and the water starts to feel almost refreshing; it provides a temporary relief for his hot skin. He slowly wades in deeper, letting his body become fully submerged.
Mike seems to be enjoying it too, his arms fully splayed out against the water. He's quiet for a moment before glancing over to Will, something Will can’t dissect flashing across his features.
“Race you!” He beams, eyes wide and playful.
Before Will's brain has time to catch up, Mike is already swimming toward the center of the lake.
“Hey, that’s not fair!” he shouts out as he follows after him.
The next few moments are a mess of flailing limbs and splashing water. When Will finally reaches the middle of the lake, Mike is already there, the sun reflecting off of his damp hair and water dripping down his face in rivulets.
“I won!” Mike smiles triumphantly.
“Only because you cheated.” Will rolls his eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it.
“Still won,” Mike shrugs, his eyes playful.
“Whatever,” Will says. He feigns irritation but he can’t help the smile that plays on his lips.
They tread the water for a minute before Mike starts slowly swimming further into the lake on his back, his eyes firmly fixed on Will.
“Come on,” he calls out, signaling Will with his hand. He follows hesitantly.
Mike stops swimming and waits for him to catch up. “Will…” he starts.
Will opens his mouth to respond, but, as soon as he does, he watches Mike’s arms fly forward, splashing his chest with water.
“Oh, you’re so dead!” he smiles.
Mike instinctively moves his arms over his face as Will gets ready to splash him back—it’s futile. Drops of water land on his skin, decorating his body in rivulets.
When Mike opens his eyes, he looks at Will, a faint smirk on his lips. Within seconds, white foam fills the air. It's chaos as Mike and Will splash each other until they’re both giggling.
“Mike!” Will shouts.
Mike doesn’t say anything back and Will suddenly feels the splashing stop. He stops splashing too and looks around.
“Mike?” He calls out, his voice a little frantic as he scans the lake without finding any sign of him.
All of a sudden, he feels something grab against him, warm and firm. It’s Mike—he has his arms tightly wrapped against his chest. His head is nestled in the corner between Will’s neck and shoulder, close enough that Will can feel his breath on his skin. The sudden closeness makes his body go rigid.
“Got you,” Mike murmurs, a hint of playfulness in his voice. His breath is tepid against Will’s ear and he can feel the vibration of his voice. It makes him squirm under his arms.
He feels himself get pulled down by Mike until his entire body is submerged. Underwater, everything is muffled; it makes his mind go fuzzy and the only thing he is aware of is the feeling of Mike’s arms tangled tightly around his body, his back pressed flush against Mike’s chest. He feebly flails his arms, making a weak attempt to escape. Part of him doesn’t want to, part of him just wants to stay wrapped in Mike’s arms.
Will pulls his head up above the water again when Mike releases his grasp after a few seconds. When he turns around to lock eyes with him, Mike’s already staring back at him, smiling like an idiot.
“You're so annoying.” Will tries to hide his smile as he rolls his eyes.
Mike just giggles beside him.
They make a few slow laps around the lake before they get out and make their way back up the rocks, leaving a trail of wet footprints and water droplets behind them.
When they reach their stuff, Will grabs his towel, quickly drying his body off before resting it on the rock beneath him. Mike immediately places his towel right next to him and sits down. They aren’t touching, but Will can feel the heat of Mike’s knee radiating against his leg. He looks down where they’re nearly touching for a second before looking up at him.
“I beat you twice,” Mike mocks.
“Yeah, because you cheated twice,” Will shoots back teasingly. Mike snorts beside him.
“Me? Cheating?” He pulls his hand to his chest and gasps, feigning disbelief. “I don’t know about that, Will…” he trails off, a smile playing on his lips.
Will rolls his eyes but he can’t help his own smile from forming.
Mike looks at him for another second before laying his head down, using his backpack as a pillow. He sprawls out his limbs, moving them around a little bit until he finally settles with one of his knees bent and an arm gently draped over his eyes.
Will lets his gaze follow his body; the faint lines of muscle on his outstretched stomach, the shape of his ribs and the freckles that adorn them. He uses his eyes to carefully trace the curve of Mike’s nose, the shape of his lips, the short black curls that rest on the rock beneath his head. It almost hurts to look at him.
So he looks back out ahead of him instead, watching the sun paint the sky a soft orange.