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Summary
When Mike is finished with the first foot, he moves to the other, massaging the muscles with the same gentle firmness. In truth, it doesn't have the same soothing effect that a healing potion could achieve within minutes, but it gives something better to him: the warmth of Mike’s skin against his, the gentle intimacy that a young Mike also carried when he would smack his lips against Will’s bandaged knee to make him giggle.
Then his hands still. He leans down and presses a kiss against his foot.
Will looks up at the ceiling. They've played this game many times before. No, a "game" isn't the way to describe it. Not a dance, either. Maybe it's a battle. And no matter how hard Will tries, Mike always beats him.