Work Text:
It had always been so hard to decide.
Watching as he moved, slow and pointed, every inch shifted holding something deep, made Mike’s decision process halt with ease. With the way Will’s neck stretched to expose a galaxy of moles and freckles that convinced Mike there may be an unnamed otherworldly power after all, he decided. Yes – Will, basking in the summer sun with flushed cheeks and drifted eyes, had always glowed like this. He was radiant. He was the very center of Mike’s universe.
Will had always complained about the beach, but how could he? He groaned about the cries of seagulls, yet it was he who made the serendipitous crash of waves sound so sweet. He griped about the sand on his feet, yet it was he who brought out the utmost vibrancy of the shells that sat atop it. Will complained and yet the beach, depicted in its serenity and grandeur countless of times, paled in comparison. Will had always been more beautiful, and that much the rolling tide and hot sand seemed to know.
“You’re staring.” He chided, peeking out of a hazel eye. A graceful smile pulled at those lips, a shy hand reaching out to rest against Mike’s chest – his heart. A sequence of thump, thump, thump thrummed against his seeking palm. Mike watched as that smile morphed quickly into one of content, obviously satisfied with a simple fact; each beat was for him, and Will did nothing if not relish in the steady pulse under his fingertips.
“I’m here.” Mike responded. He let his own hand lay on top of Will’s, further confirming, letting his touch linger. He felt the pressure on his chest grow ever so slightly, “I’m here.”
Will, hand trailing to gently trace against the edge of his freckle kissed jaw, merely watched as the trap snapped. Although unaware, even the smallest brush of his skin locked Mike where he sat. That calloused hand had successfully plucked the air from his lungs and cemented him to his blue beach towel.
“I know.”
He knew, but Mike had always been so good with words.
“I’ll always be here,” The hum of his lips tingled against the pad of Will’s thumb as the artist drew stars on his pink skin, “you know that.”
“Mmm.” When Will’s thumb was replaced by his lips, Mike felt heady. He understood Icarus then, knew why he ascended so close to those warm rays; maybe the sweat that was dripping down Mike’s back was melted wax instead, feathers fleeting away with the summer breeze. His sun, gilded in only the most precious of gold, had kissed him so tenderly that it was almost like none of the other planets in his orbit mattered. Completely entrapped, Mike could only lean in closer to his pull, “I do. You’re tied to me, aren’t you?”
“Tight.” Will laughed into the kiss, a gentle sound, and nothing else mattered.
“It’s alright,” Will had muttered a few blinks later, juice of a fresh strawberry pooled at the center of his lips. “You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.” Mike’s eyes zeroed in on the bitten strawberry that sat proudly between Will’s fingertips, leaning forward to take a bite, the fruit meeting him halfway. A little kiss pressed against Will’s wrist, the scent of fresh fields and sweet harvest dancing across Mike’s senses as a devastatingly beautiful blush rose to the other’s face. Mike felt that familiar adoration ache deep within himself at Will’s kind smile.
Dusting his hand across the fan of Will’s eyelashes, he chimed softly, “You’re my universe. The center of it all – center of my everything.”
“Such a way with words, Wheeler.” The roll of Will’s eyes may have been intended to show annoyance, but Mike knew it was out of shyness.
“Not my fault you read like the most beautiful poetry.”
“You’re cheesy.” But with the way a laugh passed through his red stained lips, his cheesiness was quite obviously charming. Mike mapped kisses across the expanse of that alluring blush, noting every mole; he paid special attention to the beauty mark above Will’s top lip, near the crease of his cheek. He couldn’t pick favorites, but if he had to, that one would be a large contender. The mark had always stood out to Mike, and then often he wondered about past lives. He was convinced he and Will crossed paths in every form, falling back into their delicate equilibrium as if they couldn’t help it – their hands linked too perfectly, their voices too harmonic for coincidences. He wondered if every version of himself before would press sweet kisses against that spot, ultimately manifesting that mark that never ceased to catch Mike’s eye. Will was the brightest star. Yet, Mike never needed to shield his eyes.
“You love it,” A simple murmur.
His sun sighed, eyes meeting and Mike felt his warmth bloom across his face. “Unfortunately.”
As minutes turned into hours, the heat began to pulse down upon them. He could tell Will was growing hot, just by the way he shifted against the yellow towel; pink tinged the slopes of his shoulders and Mike fought the urge to lean and kiss each inch. “Gonna take a dip?”
Never before had Mike wished to be a lake, but the way Will’s eyes alighted with pure joy certainly changed that. “You coming with?”
“Of course.”
The water met their shins, crisp and cool, thwarting off the clinging heat with ease. His cleric guided him, as he always had; a beacon, shining bright amongst a life so dark, nothing in this world capable enough to dim him. No matter the waves that crashed against him, nor the cliffs that met his feet, Will glowed. He shined. The dark clouds of time could never hide him, not from Mike, not from himself – Will, the light at the end of the tunnel, had guided him through it all.
His sun had disappeared under the water. Once upon a time, a few years prior, Mike would have felt his heart race. His palms would slick up and those tears would well in his eyes, so close from falling over the edge; falling over the edge… Will on his bike, Will lost, Will falling off the edge –
A hand, a source of warmth amongst the cool waves, rested gently upon the small of his back. Alive, Mike thought, hot blood practically pulsing from the crevices of his fingertips. From the ripple of water appeared the head of Will, damp lashes blinking clung water droplets away – alive, so alive that a tightness grew in Mike’s throat. The smile that crossed his lips breathed fresh air into his shuddering lungs. As Will rose, Mike was further grounded with the weight of the other’s arms looped around his neck, familiar hands twirling black curls between his fingers. Mike let his palms grip the skin of Will’s hips.
“I’m alright,” He whispered, gentle tone carried along with the soft breeze. “I’m here, Mike.”
When Mike rested his head on Will’s forehead, their noses brushed. That same hand cupped his cheek, swiping away the few fallen tears, “Sometimes you don’t feel real.” The admittance was small, broken; Will understood nonetheless.
“I’m real,” A little kiss to confirm what Mike already knew. “This is real.”
“What else would it be?”
Mike let Will guide him again, deep beneath the surface, feeling the cold overwhelm each sense. When he was younger, Mrs. Wheeler would always berate him for letting his eyes slip open under the water, but he was never one for following rules. Breaking bounds and shattering cycles seemed to come so easily to him. He tore dimensions apart to find the very one who met his eyes now, rays of honey brown hair fanning around his face in a way that only the Romantics could describe. The artist's hand reached out, longing, and who would the poet be to deny him.
Will’s palm rested against his sharp cheek, and Mike swore the current urged them closer. When their lips connected, everything stilled, the press of Will’s mouth quieting each doubt in his mind. Mike could only grasp at the curve of Will’s back, bringing him near; he was thrown into a poem, then, lost in the stanzas and beat of each rhyme, the call of Will’s soul responded with a verse of his own. In tandem they spun around each other, utterly lost in what he could only describe as a rotation beyond anything else in this world. Universal balance snapped into place, wrongs made right with the mere feel of Will’s lips.
Resurfacing together with arms locked tight only made sense. The quiet below the surface faded, Mike’s senses returning in a rush of pure adrenaline, pulling away from Will with wide eyes and parted lips. The sun shined, strong and bright, and even in the fresh chill of the wind, Mike had never felt more warm.
“My sun.”
And Will smiled, letting Mike bask in him. All of him.