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The thing about bringing 1961's Will to Derek's 2021 New York was that all in all, he seemed to fit in better than Derek figured he might. Sure, he tended to wear button-down shirts with suspenders and had a penchant for watching black & white movies over modern ones. And sometimes when they had to drive somewhere, Will would decide to make a day of it. He'd pack up a lunch and lead Derek to the garage, only complaining about New York traffic a little bit. And when Derek would glance over, seeing a smiling Will behind the wheel of his father's 1945 Ford truck with a newsboy style cap covering a mess of red hair, it took Derek's breath away.
There's no way he wouldn't be at Will's side. Not even the years could separate them.
Settling him in did have a bump or two, such as the compromise that Will made when he agreed to get a cellphone, and that was that Derek had to get a landline for their home. The suggestion had come out of nowhere as a warm Summer thunderstorm pelted the windows with rain and lit up the skies like daylight. "I mean, what happens when the power goes out? These batteries," he said as he tapped Derek's phone with a freckled finger, "won't last for forever, Der. One time I lost power on the farm once for almost a week."
Derek opened his mouth to say it was preposterous, that this was New York when the lights flickered once, twice, and then the power went out. So as they climbed into bed that night, he agreed between one kiss and the next.
Forced to choose, Derek would say that his favorite thing about Will was that he brought his 1960s style manners with him. "Just common decency," he'd say when he held the door for another couple when they went out to eat or picked up the trash that a little one had dropped, leaving Derek to roll his eyes fondly. Of course, the opposite was true; if someone tossed trash out willingly, Will wouldn't show his anger. But he would go red in the face, pick it up, and hand it back to them.
After a hearty dinner out at a nearby diner that reminded both of them of Annie's, Derek went to his writing desk (now separated from the small living room by a handmade wooden screen that Will had built for him soon after moving in) and Will settled in front of the radio with a book. He was deep in another notebook of poems when the shrill bell of the telephone interrupted his train of thought, followed quickly by Will's heavy footfalls and muted voice.
He'd mostly gotten back into the stanza that flowed effortlessly from his hands to the page when he heard, "Hold the line, please," and covered up the receiver. "Der?" he called. "Derek?"
"Babe?" Derek said as he put his pen down and walked into the living room. "What's up?"
"Where's a gentleman on the line that would like to know if we need to review our home insurance policy."
Sometimes it took Derek a few seconds to remember that Will is from a completely different time when vacuum and housewares salesmen walked door to door, and anyone called a 'snake oil salesman' would literally be run out of town before sunset. "Will," he said as he shook his head, "hang up! It's a scam."
"Now, Der," Will replied with a fond shake of his head, then pulled the receiver back to his ear, "Not everyone-" After a second, he replied, "Oh." He looked up at Derek again. "The line went dead."
Derek closed the difference between them, happy with Will's naiveté while hoping he never loses it, because while a jaded Will might fit in with New Yorkers better, Derek would miss that innocence. He smiled, then took the receiver from Will and hung up the phone. "How 'bout we have a little dessert?" he asked as he grabbed Will's hand.
The little crease between Will's eyebrows showed up. "But Der, we already had that big piece of pie at the diner. And..." He looked around as Derek continued to tug him to the stairs. "The door's that way," he said as he pointed a finger.
Derek's smile grew as he pulled Will close and stared into amber eyes that he swore he would get lost in one day if he gazed too long. "But the bedroom's this way," he said, then kissed Will's nose and pulled him toward the no-calorie dessert option.