Chapter Text
"Do I look good?" Will asks, for the third time tonight, looking in the mirror in Max's room and unbottoning the first button of his shirt, then the second, and after a few seconds, buttoning it back and letting out a breath as he rolls his eyes.
"Yes, I told you that three times" Max answers him. "Move out of the mirror, you've been there for ages." She pushes will away of the full-length mirror and leans in to see her own face as she remarked her waterline with her red eyeliner, pulling away for a second because it had gotten inside of her eyeball. Moment Will took advantage of to see himself in the mirror again.
Lucas had been ready for an hour already.
"Are you really that obsessed with your reflection?"
He asks as Will stands still, his eyes moving up and down his own body for what seems like the hundredth time tonight.
"You're bored? Help me then," he begins, unbottoning the second button again.
"Does it look better like this or buttoned to the top?" He asks, lifting an eyebrow.
"If you button it to the top, you look like a priest, but two is too much... Unless you're trying to impress someone showing off a bit of skin."
Lucas says, and Will smiles, even though he hides it and keeps his shirt unbottoned one button more than he actually should.
Max comes back after a few seconds, her face covered in water she had used to rinse her eye and goes back to the mirror to try and re-do her waterline.
"Max, can I try...?"
Will asks, leaning over the mirror too.
"This?" Max asks, holding up her pencil, red liner, getting a nod from him.
"No." She answers, getting back to doing it to herself, her eye rolling back as she underlines it.
"You're wearing lilac and black, you can't just paint your eyes red, it doesn't match."
Her right hand points back to her desk.
"I have a black one in that drawer, hand it to me and I'll do it for you."
Will is sat on the bed, looking up as he tries not to get the pencil buried in his eye. Max bites her bottom lip in concentration as she draws the line of her friend's lower lid, who can't stop blinking as his eyes shed a single tear.
"Stop moving." Max says, her other hand reaching up to keep Will's face and eye completely still so she doesn't end up marking his whole face in black that can't wash off.
"Okay. Done." She says, pulling back. "Wait, no, I think this'll look better..." She says, closing Will's eyes forcefully and moving her fingers left and right on both of them, smudging the black line into a small shadow at the outer corners of his eyes, making him flinch dramatically and then look at her angrily.
"What was that for?" He asks, annoyed, but then sees himself in the mirror. It's not bad at all.
He grabs his necklace from his pocket and pulls it around his neck, buttoning it and then flipping it around, it's just a small star, almost unnoticeable.
"You're really going all in today." Lucas says and Max shoots him a look. "Is there something we should know?" She asks.
Will's eyes widen just slightly, they know, of course they do, he's never in his life worn make up, nor worn jewelry, for a casual house party. It's obvious that he's getting himself prettier on purpose.
"Not really, why do you ask?" He asks, his gaze flicking from Lucas to Max, from Max to Lucas.
"You're a terrible liar."
Max says as she sits down on the bed, looking at her digital watch on her wrist, the squared numbers mark that they still have 20 minutes before they have to pick up the rest. 20 minutes to confess.
"Is this about Mike?" Lucas asks, getting a kick on the calf coming from Max's direction.
Will's eyes look away as his ears flush slightly on a light shade of pink. He can't even escape, they both know, they've probably known for ages.
"Yeah, I guess." He says, trying to play it off as something casual, like he hadn't been in love since 10 years old, like he doesn't remember his face and the exact shape of Mike's hand only from holding it one time years ago.
Like he hadn't spent months drawing him, like he had never felt that Mike was his muse, his loved one.
All of that was gone as he tried to act like he didn't care, like Mike was just a casual crush, someone he was trying to make out with at the party.
As if Mike wasn't the love of his life. The unreciprocated love of his life.
Lucas arm tightens and his fist hits his own chest as he whispers something that sounds like a 'fuck yes' and then his elbow bumps Max's playfully, she rolls her eyes in annoyance and bumps him back a bit harder.
"How much do you owe me?" He asks in a mocking tone to Max.
She rolls her eyes. "I can literally break up with you and you won't have twenty dollars, nor a girlfriend." She says and Lucas smiles at her attitude.
"I'm sorry, what is this bet about?" Will asks, completely lost.
"Oh, on if you still crushed on Mike or not."
Will sits back on the floor, as red as Max's liner.
"And how did you know?" He points a finger at Lucas.
"I mean, that I still like him."
He sits down on the bed next to his girlfriend. "I don't know, the last time we all met up, you two were kicking eachother under the table and thought no one noticed." He says.
"But Mike does that all the time." Will justifies. "I don't think it's exclusive for me."
"Oh, it is." He says, nodding his head slightly. "But you were the one blushing from head to toe when he did." He says, his shoulders going up and then slumping down again.
"And Max said it was the bad air conditioning. And now she owes me twenty dollars." He teases her again, then giving her a light kiss on the cheek, since she didn't seem to find the joke funny.
"But, you're not trying to set us up, are you?" Will flicks his gaze between both of them, oh, they definitely are.
"No, no, don't worry." Max replies with a smile Will can't tell it's sarcastic or not.
"Are we ready to head out?" She asks, getting a nod from her boyfriend and an unsure frown from Will.
"You'll be fine, Will." She says. "You don't have to worry much, there will be alcohol, you can loosen up a bit." Will gets a slight bump on the shoulder, he feels his throat a bit dry.
"Can we maybe have something to drink now?" He asks, his voice shaking a bit. "I'm too nervous." He says as he sits on the bed, his leg bouncing up and down frantically.
"Yeah, just a bit." She says, going to the kitchen and coming back with a beer. "Maybe we can share, we have time," she begins, opening it. "Not Lucas, he's driving." She smiles and after a few sips, hands it to Will.
After a while of giggling and passing the beer can back and forth while talking about stupid shit, the can is empty. "Are we ready to head out now?" Lucas asks, a bit bored.
Will stands up and brushes his hair with his fingers one last time before exhaling loudly. "Yeah." He feels a bit lighter, of course half a beer can't do much and it's mostly just a placebo effect, but it worked.
The ride to Mike's house is pretty energetic, the radio on with some good hits and a casual talk filled with giggles.
When they get to the door, Lucas honks twice.
Will's throat tightens again as he can't tear away his gaze from Mike's front door. He hadn't been here in months, even when Max talks to him, he can't even turn his head to face her.
He's burning hot, his cheeks starting to flush pink, his fingers fidgeting, even when he had drank specifically for this not to happen.
"It'll be okay." Max says, smiling at him, even when he doesn't see her. "Mike's an asshole, you'll be fine." Just as she finishes her sentence, he comes out of the front door, wearing a pretty lame outfit, and the ugliest piece of it was, indeed, the atrocious side part.
Will tears his gaze apart and moves to leave a space, taking the middle seat now.
He had been drawing this face for months, remembered every part of it, and now he has to pretend as if he was normal about him.
Mike opens the door and stands frozen for a bit, probably the most akward 2,5 seconds of his whole life, meeting his childhood best friend, (and potential love of his life)'s gaze for that long only serves him a bright blush across his whole face, he thanks God for the fact that it's just late enough for the sun to go down and for no one to see the actual color of his face, along with how his ears turn almost burgundy.
"Hey" He says, as Mike sits down and nods.
Is he not going to say it back? Akward smile instead.
This is the worst outcome Will had thought about, getting ready, getting pretty, only for Mike to not care about him.
A few minutes onto the drive, their knees brush, and both of their gazes lift up to meet eachother. Mike scans his face for longer that he would've normally did.
"Trying something new?" He asks, not tearing his gaze apart from Will's eyes. "I mean, I can barely see..." He says.
Inmediately after, they pass a streetlight that lights the insides of the car, making visible Will's eyeliner for Mike, and also revealing how a color red spread across both of their cheeks.
Both of their lips part. This is just an uncomfortable meeting, nothing else than that.
"Yeah, Max did it." Will shrugs and looks away uncomfortably, swallowing visibly and making his throat move slightly.
"And talking about looks," Max joins the conversation. "We should get rid of your side part." She says, reaching a hand back and brushing Mike's side part away, giving him his bangs back. "That's better, you looked like your dad." She smiles through the rearview mirror.
"And you should also get rid of the awful shirt, but they won't let you in to the party shirtless, so let's leave it like that." She says.
Will's cheek flush even deeper at her words, at the mental image she had just created for him accidentally, or not. Mike entering the party with nothing on his upper half, Will rested his hand on his temple softly, as if he was having a headache, when he really just was trying to delete the picture his brain had just painted for him.
"You okay?" Mike asks.
Fuck, why does he always have to care so much?
Will looks up at him, again, the same silence stretching for more than a second.
"Yeah, just got a headache" He says, and inmediately notices how Mike's gaze flickers to his lips as he talks.
Why does he do this to him? And what if he reciprocates doing the same?
"Oh, maybe we can stop to buy some-" And while he talks, Will looks at his lips the same way he does, and inmediately notices how Mike's words cut in half and after catching his breath, continues talking. "...Water"
Will smiles, not even hiding it. Almost deliberately flirting with him. "Or maybe we could just ask Dustin for a glass of water."
He says
"Did you forget he was coming too?" Mike's eyes widen softly at his teasing, Will smiles at him and bumps their elbows softly. "Just kidding."
Mike remains silent for the rest of the trip. Will copies him, a bit embarrassed by his deliberate flirting now. Maybe Jonathan's words were just a say, Mike does not like him back and probably would never.
Silence for the rest of the trip. Maybe when he gets to the party he can drink a bit more, enough to get tipsy and maybe forget about the embarrassment he's having.
Dustin joins them, now making them squeeze even more in the back seat.
Dustin is wearing some pants that are too thick to be pressing his leg against, so he chooses to lean more to his right, where Mike is, and press his legs more to his side.
At some point in the trip, he doesn't know where to out his hands, his shoulders tightened between them, trying to keep them rested on his thighs quietly.
But Lucas' way of driving has another plan. He, of course, slows a bit to none on the speed bumps and makes all of them in the backseat jump around slightly, Will's right hand accidentally ending up over Mike's pinky finger on his own thigh.
He decides to leave it there, testing the waters. But Mike flinches as if he had gotten burnt and Will pulls his hand away, deciding to cross his arms.
"It's okay." Mike says, shakily. "I just didn't expect it." He says, so low he's not convinced if he actually said it.
Mike bumps his shoulder slightly, making him uncross his arms and put his hands back on his own legs, he's clearly trying his best to not touch Mike accidentally, convinced that his touch is bad for him, feeling like he's violating his personal space, like the beer had done absolutely nothing to help his confidence as he thought it would.
"Will." He calls his name softly, making him look, meeting his gaze with a smile, and after a few seconds, putting his hand on Will's thigh. This is the worst idea both of them have had in a while.
Will freezes at first, but then relaxes to his touch, smiling back at him and nuzzling his whole body a bit closer to Mike's.
"How are you doing back there, lovebirds?" Max asks, and Mike inmediately removes his hand from where it had been resting.
"Hey, I'm still here!" Dustin says in a mocking tone.
The rest of the trip seems a bit quiet. But not the bad type of quiet. Like they used to do when they were kids, Will would sit on his room drawing, and Mike would read a comic. They wouldn't talk for hours but it wouldn't feel uncomfortable at all, it's a type of silence he's used to.
How after hours, Joyce would knock and tell them food was ready, as if they just lived together, kind of brotherly even. Or maybe more of like a married couple.
Like those grandparents that grab coffee together and talk about absolutely nothing, but they stay there for at least an hour, just enjoying eachother, and having to ask the barista to reheat their coffee more than twice because they're too busy spending non-verbal time with their partner.
The party is a complete mess, bottles are already sitting on the kitchen island, along with those plastic red cups and some mixers, like juices. Thing that Will does not lay a hand on all night.
Dustin tries to prepare him a cocktail with vodka and a cup of cranberry juice, but he leaves it there saying it doesn't taste like alcohol and it's boring.
Throughout the night, Will ends up challenging Lucas over who can take the most shots, and ends up winning when Lucas gives up at 3 since he's driving, but Will keeps going throughout the whole night, more than four shots of pure vodka filled to the brim gulped down. Even when Max tells him to stop, he gulps down twice more. His throat feels acidic, and he knows he may throw up.
He's clearly the tipsiest person in the house, he's been attatched to Max the whole night, knowing that if he tries to walk more than five steps, his head may hit the floor.
His plan was going almost perfect, whatever happened tonight between him and Mike, he would forget the next day.
If it ended up like shit, just a drunk mistake. And if it ended up good, he'd confess the next day. And maybe even live happily ever after.
And Max can't just be with him the whole night, so after some time, sits him down and begs him to stay in place and not make a mess or try to do something dangerous, since given his extremelly lowered capacity of mobility, he could break a bone by just standing up.
How is a drunk guy supposed to stay still for more than an hour? With all the energy the vodka gave him, the incredible amount of confidence.
"Hey handsome." A masculine voice says, sitting by his side.
He looks at him, he's really pretty, thick eyebrows and long nose, same deep eyes and pretty curls that wrap around his forehead, he's just like Mike. Wearing the same thight blue shirt, unbottoned at the top. Also the same demeanor, the flirty type of guy. Well, maybe not the same as Mike, but the same as his drawing of him, the one who he loved so much and knew wanted him back.
The one who would flirt and kiss him in the middle of the party, maybe even leave a hickey on his neck or casually giving him a cheek kiss, in front of everyone. The same way the actual Mike did with Jane.
Maybe that's the one thing he'd change about the real Mike, for him to be direct and want Will publicly, just like the Mike impersonator he just met.
Will smiles, that guy feels and looks exactly like Mike, if not him.
"Hi there." He says back, his words almost unclear and mumbled out like he was a toddler.
The guy rests his hand on Will's thigh, yeah, he's like a hundred percent sure this is actually Mike now. It's the same gesture he had done in the car.
"You're Lucas friend, aren't you? The guy from the basketball team?" He asks, his brow furrowed as he looks at Will with a smile.
Well, duh, how could he not know that? Is he poisoned by alcohol just as much as Will is?
"Yeah, did you forget?" He slurs out, getting shot by a confused look. It's something obvious, why is Mike asking that stupid question? How much has he had to drink?
He's too drunk to function. The real Mike is watching from afar, an empty can of beer in hand, waiting for this guy to do something to Will so he can act.
His gaze had been resting on them for the whole time now, not leaving Will for a single second as he sipped on the beer until he has nothing left.
Dustin tries to talk to him but he flips him off and keeps watching, like a middle aged guy when you walk in front of the TV where he's watching a football match.
"Dude, what the hell is going on with you?" Is all Will hears across the room as he sees some guy get dragged away by Max. He doesn't bother on knowing who he is or why is she taking him away.
Will is giggling, indulging in some casual talk with this guy. Enjoying his voice and pretty gestures at max.
"Do you, want to dance, maybe?" Mike-impersonator asks, getting a nod and a big smile.
"Max told me to stay here until I'm not drunk." He says, pouting slightly.
"Yeah? Well, Max is a bit dumb, I'll take care of you." He says, standing up and getting Will's hand in his, dragging him up to his feet, his legs shake slightly, but he gets catched by the waist before he even has the chance to fall.
They both get to the middle of the party, some song by Pixies' album Surfer Rosa playing on someone's cassette player at the highest volume possible, the lyrics bouncing up and down around the walls. Filling both of their ears and brains.
"I'm the horny loser..." They sing along, Will's words sounding completely disorted and weirdly imitating someone's drug addict uncle. While "Mike"'s sound perfectly sober.
"I am the ugly lover" Will says, still singing along, his voice cracked and bubbly. He giggles softly as he lets himself fall just for his prince to catch him by the waist the same way he did earlier, clearly a thing he enjoys doing.
"You enjoy that? My hand on your waist." The dude asks, smiling at Will. Their faces are inches apart as they both giggle in eachothers mouth, Will's arms shoot up to wrap around his neck and shoulders.
Will nods with shiny eyes. "Yeah." He leans in for a kiss, almost forgetting they're in the middle of a dance floor.
He gets stopped. "Let's go to a quieter corner, yeah?" The masculine voice says, it echoes around Will's head as if the words were processed by a machine and almost robotic.
Everything seemed to go extremelly good for him. But Will's nausea is still there, he feels like he may puke in "Mike"'s shirt, or even pass out in his arms. He feels drunk enough to fall in a coma, and he didn't even drink that much.
And after one shared look between him and the guy who took his hand, his lips get crashed in a kiss. Will's legs shake with nervousness and they threaten to make him fall.
He gets held by the waist, the chords of the electric guitar melting in the kiss, he can't believe he's kissing Mike to this song, one of his favorites. He can't believe the most perfect guy he's ever met is grabbing his waist with both hands as their lips crash against eachother.
Just as Will opens his mouth to try and let his tongue in, to feel him just a bit closer, a voice interrupts.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The kiss gets stopped by... Another Mike?
"What?" Will asks, thinking his vision has blurred enough for him to see double. To see two Mikes. He looks around and frowns a few times, blinking, trying to make his vision clearer, stopping after a few seconds noticing it doesn't work.
"He's drunk, you asshole." The taller Mike says, pushing the Mike he had just kissed, making his back hit the wall. He whines slightly and gets off it, getting closer, their chest almost brushing with male angryness.
"Dude, what is wrong with you?" He says, pushing him back, trying his best to launch a fist across his face, but failing as Mike moves slightly to the side.
"What is wrong with me?" Mike mocks, lifting his fist. "What are you doing? You're taking advantage of him!" The punch is delivered but hits the wall behind him instead.
Will is completely freaking out, seeing two Mikes, (that in another case, would've been his dream situation) fighting against eachother, trying to punch themselves in the face, it all feels like he's having a bad trip.
They try to reach and punch eachother again with the angriest fist he's ever seen, and someone stops them, getting in between them. Why are the love of his life and his identical clone fighting in front of his face? Why can't he just kiss them both in the lips?
The light starts feeling too triggering and the music now hits his ears violently.
His knees fail him in a violent shake and he covers his mouth, making a puking sound, that makes Mike turns his head inmediatel. He starts walking away and trying to find the nearest bathroom. Flopping between bodies on the dance floor and making some guy curse him out for getting his foot step on.
"Will!" Mike says, following him and grabbing his back, guiding him to the downstairs bathroom by keeping him extremelly close, the guy he had just tried to kill completely left behind, screaming at him, shouting "pussy" and trying to run behind them.
Mike enters the bathroom and closes the door behind them, putting the little lock.
Hoping no one wants to pee, as Will kneels down and throws up on the opened lid of the toilet, the guy knocks on the door, and eventually gives up after he gets no answer.
"Fuck..." Mike says, holding Will's head softly as he pukes. His finger slightly caressing it unconsciously.
Mike tries his best to look away but still hold his head, feeling disgusted by the smell, the sight, but trying not to. The acidic smell gets in his nostrils and there is no way of avoiding it, he scrunches up his face hoping he can get away from it.
Trying to stay because Will is too vulnerable to be alone right now and needs his help. Because he cares and that's his best friend puking below him, not a random guy.
After what feels like hours of the awful, liquid and viscous sound coming from Will's mouth, he stands up and rinses his mouth with warm water, sighing like he had just woken up from death
"Who is the other guy?" He asks. "The guy who kissed me." He clearly expelled enough of the alcohol on his vomit to make sense of the situation, but his words are still coming out bubbly and sometimes incoherent.
"I don't know." Mike answers, he sees Will stop in his feet. "Are you okay? Do you want to throw up again?" He asks, spinning him around to face him, grabbing him by the shoulders. With a worried face, eyebrows shooting up, looking and analyzing every single one of Will's features for any sign of his pain shooting again.
Will shakes his head and looks down, a bit embarrassed, still a bit drunk. His cheeks tinted a shy pink and his face probably hot right now. His eyes look around for a bit before finally looking at Mike's face. He presses his lips in a tight line.
"No." He says. "I thought you were the guy I kissed." He admits, looking down again, hiding from Mike's gaze, from the stupidity he had just said. It just came out of his mouth, it's the pure shots of vodka talking for him, not his actual brain cells forming a coherent thought.
That's the worst thing he could've possibly done, the night he had planned, he had perfectly arranged, everything to go in his favor, maybe even kiss the love of his life tonight.
He just had to admit that he had kissed a guy, drunkenly hoping it was his childhood best friend, who is clearly fucking straight, dreaming about feeling his lips against his own and getting grabbed by the waist with the same hands he had worshipped since he turned 10.
He lurches down to the toilet again, getting ready to throw up again, the thought of what he just actually said is triggering enough for his system to make his stomach flip around completely, getting the acid up to his throat again. And possibly out of his mouth.
But he doesn't throw up, it burns, his tongue tastes awfully bad, like raw meat mixed with two gallons of oil and a whole pan of butter.
The thought of food alone makes the liquid actually come out of his mouth and stain the toilet walls again with the yellowish liquid.
"God, how much did you have to drink?" Mike asks, again kneeling down besides him and holding his head blindly, his other hand covering his nose.
"Like a third of the bottle." Will says, between streaks of expulsing liquid.
He's completely amazed over the fact that Mike hasn't questioned the fact that he had just told him that he had willingly kissed someone wishing it was him.
"You really need to sober up." Mike says, caressing his hair again.
Another knock on the door, a bit softer
"Get away, asshole" Mike shouts, not even bothering to look or to hear carefully. Too busy with Will's head.
"It's not him, dumbass." Max says. "Open the door, I've been looking for you guys." She says, the door lock slides open and the door does too, revealing Will still on his knees and Mike behind him, a hand in his hair.
She sighs softly. "I told you to stay put." She says to Will, looking down at him. "I'll get you a glass." She says, getting out of the bathroom again.
Mike and Will glance at eachother, now not embarrassed to do so. Mike smiles softly and then finally lets go of his hair, letting Will stand up by himself, closing the lid of the toilet and taking a seat.
Mike reaches down and wets some paper slightly, leaning in to wipe his friends mouth corners, gently, as if Will may break if he presses down too hard.
"I'm sorry about earlier..." Will starts. "I didn't mean to cause a fight." He says, embarrassment creeping up his neck.
"You didn't." Mike says, gulping visibly. "That guy knew you were drunk." He says, "That's on him."
Max opens the door suddenly again and puts the glass beneath the faucet, filling it to the brim with water, handing it to Will, he gulps it down. "Better?" She asks, smiling.
Will nods softly.
"Maybe you two should go." She says, emphasizing on the two, not Will alone, both of them have to go. Together. "That guy may come and try to break Mike's nose again." She giggles softly.
Will gulps down the water completely starved, the feel of pure water after swallowing vodka and puking out vomit feels like heaven itself. Like some angel came down to earth to give him the elixir that had helped God create life.
A bit of water drips down his chin and both of his friends giggle at the sight. "Slow down, Will." They say, almost in unison.
He pours the whole glass down his throat, then handing it to Max, who leaves with it, not before smiling at Will and only to him, a secret meaning hidden behind the smile.
Will washes his face one last time and breathes heavily as he looks at himself in his reflection, Mike stands completely frozen behind him.
"Can we go home now?"
Will asks, staring at Mike through the mirror.
"Mine or yours?" Mike replies.
"Yours." Will answers.