Work Text:
“You aren’t going to fucking believe what happened today!” Mike bust through Will’s front door without knocking, not that he ever needed to. Will could hear him stomping up to the door, rattling the planks of the porch.
“You know I love a good work story.” Will said calmly, placing his sketchbook aside. He’d been working on his most recent commission, waiting for Mike to return from his shift at the mall. Work hadn’t been going well since the first day. Will was sure it was a combination of Mike’s lack of interest in the service industry, the constant interaction, and the fact that he was using the job to avoid being home as much as possible. It was wearing on Mike, and it showed. More so in moments like this– temper flared and aggravation driving him all the way to Will’s house blind– than anywhere else.
“So, I’m trying to fucking do my fucking job, and this girl comes up to me–” Mike starts, pointing his finger off to the side, giving stage directions to the scene he was painting in front of Will. “And she asks me where she can find a fucking Sears.”
“Which does exist in the mall.” Will added quietly, trying to add logical footnotes to Mike’s story. He held a hand out to Mike and waved him over to the couch. Mike didn’t take it at first, still waving his hand around. Will grabbed it before he took an eye out and pulled him toward him. “Go ahead.”
“Yeah. It’s one of the main goddamn stores in the mall– she’s got to be blind to not know where it is. But I tell her. Because I have to. I have to be nice. Nice and scoop fucking ice cream. That’s all I do.” Mike grumbled. He fell back and plopped next to Will. He rested his head against the back of the couch and sighed loudly, with enough force to muster up a growl.
“You do a really good job with both, Mike.” Will said quietly, placing a hand on Mike’s arm. “You always give me a really big scoop with a beautiful smile.”
Mike sighed and let his head loll toward Will. “I have to be nice to you.”
“You don’t have to.” Will laughed, shaking his head. “But you do. Because you’re nice. And you scoop ice cream.”
“I still fucking hate it.” Mike muttered, clenching his jaw. “Because then, after I tell her, she goes away with all her friends.”
“Okay.” Will listens but begins slowly smoothing the collar of Mike’s uniform. “So she leaves. She’s gone.”
“And she comes. back. and she starts saying I gave her the wrong directions– which I didn’t! She just literally doesn’t know her rights from her goddamn lefts!” Mike sat up and waved his arms out, giving examples to the nonexistent audience.
“Mike, hey, come on.” Will said, placing a hand on Mike’s chest to try and pull him back in. Mike was upset about more than being told he gave bad directions. He was probably told he was bad at something a little more personal that morning at the breakfast table. Will didn’t have to ask, but he also didn’t want to know what had been said. Will had heard his own variation of it from Lonnie, he was sure.
“This girl starts standing at the counter, blocking the line behind her, and starts ripping into me– she’s like thirteen. I could have stepped on her if I wasn’t getting paid to be nice and scoop. fucking. ice cream.”
“Hey, come on.” Will moved on the couch and kneeled beside Mike. “You’re going to tire yourself out, Mike. We have dinner later.”
“She got away with it! Every other worker there heard her screaming at me for literally nothing and they didn’t do anything.” Mike continued, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
Will copied the action, running his fingers through Mike’s hair after him. He leaned in close to Mike to admire the timid curls trying to form along Mike’s ears. The very end of the curl tucked up and under Mike’s ear, resting on his cheek. Will nodded along to Mike’s continued ravings, but leaned in and placed a soft kiss just at the end of the curl. Mike’s jaw loosened, nearly going slack– if only for a moment.
“Oh did I tell you about my fucking boss?” Mike started again, jaw tight again.
“No, you didn’t.” Will said softly.
He moved up and placed his lips gently against Mike’s temple. He was on his way to a headache if he didn’t stop screaming and straining himself. Will kissed his temple again before trying to reach across his entire forehead.
“He told me that if I didn’t start putting in even more hours, he was going to start cutting my shifts down. Which doesn’t make any fucking sense! I’m only one person! I have a life, a sleep schedule, a boyfriend!” Mike cried. “I’d like to spend time with him. God knows I’m barely allowed that anymore.” Mike was allowed a secret runaway to Will’s house twice a week thanks to Nancy’s careful, consistent lying. “Everything is falling to fucking shit and all I–”
“Hey, it’s alright.” Will whispered, placing his hands on either side of Mike’s face. He placed a kiss over each of Mike’s furrowed eyebrows.
“What are you doing?” Mike sighed, his face relaxing, but mostly to change into confusion.
“I’m helping.”
“Is that what this is?” Mike said, lifting an eyebrow. “I still have a shitty fucking job and a shitty fucking family and a shitty fucking–”
“Would you shut up for three seconds?” He laughed.
Will pulled Mike’s face up to his own. Mike’s lips were still parted when they kissed, a word resting between them. It froze, the anger behind it dying the minute Will pulled him in. Sure, Mike had more to say and more to be upset about, but Will just wanted him to be quiet for just a moment. He wanted Mike’s mind to sputter and stall into a silence and allow him a reprieve from his own rumbling turmoil. Will never knew if it worked, but Mike at least always seemed to stop yelling afterward.
Mike sighed and blinked quickly as Will pulled away, bringing Will’s face into better focus. “My job sucks.” He said plainly.
“I know. It does.” Will agreed. He kept his hands on Mike’s face and let his thumbs gently brush over his cheeks. “But, you made it through today and now you’re with me.”
“I am. I am with you.” Mike nodded, a smile finally cracking his grimace. “Tell me about your day.”
“Finishing up that drawing for someone’s skateboard deck– one of Max’s friends.” Will said with a laugh. Mike lifted his eyebrows and looked down at the other cushions.
“Where is it? Can I see?”
“No, it’s not finished yet–”
“Oh, come on!”
“It’s not good enough yet!”
“Will, don’t fire me back up!” Mike teased, clenching his jaw. Will giggled and quickly placed another kiss on Mike’s lips. Mike placed his hands on Will’s waist and pulled him across his body. Will fell onto the opposite cushion with his legs stretched out over Mike’s lap, feet resting on his sketchpad.
“Not sure I like this angry side of you.” Will said with a quiet laugh.
“May I?” Mike’s hand grabbed Will’s foot by a toe and hovered before lifting it and grabbing the book.
“If you must.” Will waved toward the book with permission. “They wanted a Dessert Wasteland theme.”
“Clever.” Mike said, turning the book around before trying to find the right angle by craning his neck. “It’s good, Will. Really good.”
“Thank you.” Will said. There was still a certain tension in Mike’s voice, but Will wasn’t sure how much of that he could make go away with soft spoken words and kissing. He moved forward to sit on Mike’s lap, able to rest his head on his shoulder. Mike was looking at it upside down. “This way, Michael.”
“Oh.” He said, quickly flipping the book. “Still looks good– although now all these waves make sense. A-Are they waves? What is that?”
“Melted ice cream.” Will said, tracing the lines back to the vase-shaped glass sundae boat framing the corner design.
“Melted? What made you do that?” Mike said, furrowing his eyebrows again.
“Well, you see,” Will said, taking the book from Mike’s hands slowly. “I know this hothead that works at the Scoops Ahoy–” Mike sighed and let his head fall back again. Will giggled and threw his pad onto the coffee table. “I’m sorry. It was funnier to me.”
“Gotta kick me while I’m down, huh?” Mike said, sighing dramatically.
“Oh come on.” Will said, trying to pull on Mike’s collar and get him to level his head again. “Kiss to make it better?”