Chapter Text
December 24th, 1989
“Hey, Mike?” Mike turned to see Will standing in the doorway adjoining the kitchen and the living room with a familiar mischievous grin on his face. Mike shot him a questioning look and Will glanced upwards. Mike rolled his eyes good-humouredly – there was mistletoe hanging from the doorpost. “Go on,” said Will, lowering the timbre of his voice a fraction, making Mike shiver. Get a grip, he thought.
“Oh, screw it.” Mike threw up his hands in defeat, realising that his mother was upstairs putting Holly to bed, his father was out at the country club’s late-night Christmas drinks, and Nancy was out with Jonathan. He crossed the room in a heartbeat, held Will’s face in his hands and kissed him. Will was slightly taken by surprise at his co-operation but responded with ardour, closing his eyes, placing his hands on Mike’s waist and pressing into him. Will felt Mike’s mouth ease open, and took his cue, tasting the chocolate that Mike had been snacking on earlier. Suddenly he felt Mike freeze under his touch; he pulled back, looking worriedly into his boyfriend’s face, but Mike’s eyes were wide and fixed on the ceiling. A stair creaked. Immediately Will shot to the other end of the kitchen and made a pretence of washing his hands at the sink, just as Karen Wheeler appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She flashed them a smile before glancing at the clock.
“What time is your mother expecting you back, Will?” she asked.
Will shrugged. “She’s not, really, but I might take off shortly. It’s kind of late, and I’m pretty tired.”
“Okay, let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll drop you home.”
“That’s alright, Mom,” Mike said hurriedly. “I’ll take him.”
“You sure, honey?” She looked surprised.
“Yeah, it’s probably better if you’re here. In case, you know, Holly comes looking for Santa,” he added for good measure. Will laughed, and she joined in.
“You’re probably right,” she admitted. “By the way, Will, we’re hosting a New Year’s party. You and your family are all invited, of course.”
“Thanks, Mrs Wheeler,” he started. “I don’t know about the others, but I probably won’t come. I hope you don’t mind, it’s just I really don’t like fireworks.”
“Oh, don’t worry, sweetie, I’m not offended. I understand,” she said kindly. Will smiled at her gratefully.
“Can we go now, Mike?” He nodded and took his keys from their hook by the basement door.
“See you in a bit, Mom.”
“Take a jacket,” she said sharply, nodding approvingly at Will, who was pulling on a sweater, a coat, a hat, a long scarf, his snow boots and a pair of gloves. When he was finally ready, he braced himself and opened the front door.
“’Night, Mrs Wheeler. Merry Christmas.”
“Good night, dear, and Merry Christmas.”
Once they were in the car, Mike paused before starting the car. “Are you really not coming for New Year’s?”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said softly. Mike’s face fell, and Will squeezed his hand.
“Guess we’ll have to do the New Year’s kiss now then.” Mike leaned over the gearshift to continue where they’d left off, but Will drew back, offering him an apologetic look.
“Sorry, I’d just rather be kissing you anywhere except your freezing cold car.” Mike turned the ignition and jets of warm air shot out of the vents.
“Now?” he asked hopefully. Will laughed at his ridiculous boyfriend.
“Go on then,” he sighed, leaning forward to meet Mike in the middle.
Mike walked Will to the door, and Will put his key in the lock. Mike gave a small cough, and Will looked back to see him holding out a box untidily wrapped in green tissue paper. Will bit his lip to stop himself from laughing at his boyfriend’s predictably hopeless gift-wrapping skills.
“Merry Christmas,” he mumbled, blushing slightly. Will took it and kissed him on the cheek, before reaching inside and pulling out his own package, immaculately wrapped. “Showoff,” Mike grumbled, and Will laughed out loud at that, seeing that Mike wasn’t really cross.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked, and Mike shrugged gloomily.
“No idea. Hope so, but can’t promise anything. I might be able to escape for a bit in the evening but otherwise it’s pure family hell for the whole day.”
“Good luck. I’ll be thinking of you.”
“Thanks. At least Nancy’ll be there,” said Mike, clearly trying to find a positive.
“A voice of reason if there ever was one,” Will said. He pulled the door to, and stepped forward to hug Mike, leaning into his chest. Mike smiled, lifting his heels and standing on tiptoe so he could rest his chin on Will’s head. He kissed Will on the forehead, squeezing his hand momentarily. “Merry Christmas, Mike.” And with that, he slipped inside the house and gently closed the door behind him. Mike shook the package lightly, then decided against opening it. He shivered slightly before turning back to his car, the fresh snow crunching beneath his feet.
The next morning it was still dark when Will woke. He glanced at his alarm clock, and saw that it was just after seven. El was lying asleep on the campbed she always occupied when both Will and Jonathan were home, so Will decided to open Mike’s present. He slowly tore the paper, taking care not to wake El, gasping quietly at what was underneath. It was Mike’s beautiful lambswool scarf which Will was always stealing during winter and had secretly always wanted. However, Will’s surprise deepened when he realised there was something else wrapped up within the scarf.
“Oil paints,” he breathed in ecstasy. It was a deluxe box, with small tubes of fifteen different colours. He loved oil painting but generally could only afford to do it when he had to for his classes as they were not cheap. There was a note attached to the box of paints. To be used in your classes under no circumstances. Will let out a silent breath of laughter as he wound the scarf around his neck, breathing in its scent, which was so undeniably Mike.
A half hour earlier, Mike had woken up to an excited nine-year-old collapsing on him with her full weight.
“Mike, wake up, it’s Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, Holly,” he groaned, switching on his bedside lamp and glancing at the clock on the wall. “It’s six-thirty.”
“But Santa’s been!” She tugged playfully on his messy hair. He sighed, shifted into a sitting position and rubbed his eyes, conceding defeat.
“Alright.” Well, if he wasn’t permitted to sleep, he wasn’t going to be the only one. “Go and wake Nancy and I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?”
“Okay!” she shot out of the room and he heard her hammering on the door to the next room. He chuckled as he swung his legs out of bed, grabbing a pair of socks, his slippers and his robe. He stifled a yawn as he heard Holly clatter down the stairs. He met Nancy in the hallway, looking equally sleepy and dishevelled.
“Merry Christmas,” he smirked. She gave him a murderous look, but couldn’t hold it and smiled, shaking her head in disbelief at their younger sister.
“Merry Christmas, Mike.” Holly opened all of her presents in five minutes, chattering away to Mike and Nancy as they came into the room with a cup of coffee each.
“Your turn now,” she said excitedly, thrusting the nearest gift in Nancy’s direction. She flipped over the tag, but Mike already recognised it.
“It’s yours, Mike.” She handed it over and Mike thumbed the tape open, not wanting to tear it.
He unfolded the wrapping paper to find a shoebox. He frowned, puzzled. Surely Will didn’t buy me shoes? Nancy and Holly looked equally mystified. He lifted the lid and found inside a few smaller items, each with a small piece of card taped to it. The first was a mixtape with ‘New Favourites’ scribbled on the case; its note read For when life is too quiet. The second was a book about creatures from European mythology. On the inside cover, Will had written For when you need inspiration. Just underneath it was a notepad with alternating lined and plain paper. For when you get inspiration!, said its accompanying card. Two tubes of Smarties were next, and their card made Mike laugh – For when you’re bored and pretend you’re hungry. Next was a developed photograph of the two of them from Thanksgiving weekend, walking through the woods holding hands and laughing. On the back Will had written For when you’re feeling sad. Mike placed it face down on the carpet, out of Holly’s reach, then pulled out a tiny plastic sword in confusion. He scanned the note with it, which said For when you feel like you’re less brave than you are.
He didn’t see the final one until he’d removed all of the others. however, which made Mike’s vision blur with tears. It was a piece of thick card lining the bottom of the shoebox, with For when you forget how beautiful you are to me written on the back. His heart thudding in his chest, he lifted it out and flipped it over to look at it. It was a hand-drawn picture of him. Well, he supposed it was him, but somehow Will had made him look so much more attractive than he thought he was. His cheeks were burning and he realised he must have turned crimson. He took a deep breath and put everything back in the box, smiling at his sisters.
“That looks boring,” said Holly, wrinkling her nose and turning her attention back to the Christmas tree. Mike smiled knowingly at Nancy; Holly could not have been more wrong.