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"Catch," Will says, and throws a can dangerously close to Mike's head.
He doesn't catch it, of course.
"Hey!" Mike leans over the edge of the couch to pick up the fallen (and likely now incredibly shaken) Coke. "You know I don't have the reflexes for that."
Will shrugs and grins and sits down next to him. "Sorry for believing in you."
Mike cracks the tab and the fix overflow is only slightly terrible. He drinks the settled Coke off the lid of the can, and when he looks up, Will is smiling at him. "What?"
Will laughs, and flushes, and looks away. "Nothing."
"What about you?" Mike continues, gesturing with the can, at the can. (It isn't a very clear gesture, and Will definitely agrees, with the incredulous look he gives.) "I thought you said you were thirsty too?"
Will's shoulders lift, a bit close to his ears, the way they do when he's mildly embarrassed — not so much he feels he has to look away. "Yeah, but there was only one."
"What?" Mike gives a sour look to the can of coke, realizing immediately that that is ridiculous, and it isn't the coke's fault it's the last of its kind. "Will, you should have taken it."
"This is your house! By definition, it's your soda."
"Definition of what!" Mike throws his hands in the air, and nearly causes the soda to lurch out of the can. He halts the motion. "Here, we can pour it in a cup or something, you can have it."
"Oh my god, Mike, I'll be okay." Mike gives Will a look that definitely isn't a pout. Probably. Will shakes his head. "If you're so insistent, we can share."
Mike nods. "If you're sure you don't want the whole thing."
"Mhm," Will nods, and leans over, and plucks the can from Mike's hand, and takes a sip.
Like it hadn't just been on Mike's mouth.
"I thought—" Mike starts, and pretends his voice didn't definitely just squeak. "I meant we could like, pour in a cup." Because if Mike takes it back, and drinks from it, that means his mouth will be where Will's mouth just was, which would be— A lot.
Will furrows his brow. "Are you squeamish about germs? Since when?" It isn't the germs, it's the — mouth. Thing. But Mike doesn't know how to say that without sounding crazy.
It's not like Mike is obsessed with Will's mouth, or anything, because that would be, weird. And not the gay part of it — Mike's working on that, he's come to terms, but he's not so freaked by it, like he used to be. He's not obsessed with Will, either. He's been handling it all really well, the whole 'crush' thing, and if he keeps getting caught looking at Will's mouth, the shape of his words, the different angles in his smile, that's — it's not obsession. Will just happens to have a really, really nice mouth. And so, all things considered, it makes a lot of sense, that Mike would be a bit hesitant about putting his own mouth somewhere Will's has been. It's intimate! And Mike has a crush! And when you're trying to get over your crush, it's like, 101 shit to not do intimate stuff with them.
(Not that Mike is really trying all that hard to get over this crush, but, well.)
When Mike fails to answer (not because he's too busy looking at Will's mouth. He is looking at Will's mouth, though, obviously, because the soda has left a sheen that glints in the light and it's kind of really hot and Mike has a crush and, etc), Will continues, "Didn't you have a phase when we were six where you were really into licking my face?"
This manages to snap Mike out of the somewhat detailed fantasy of kissing the soda off of Will's lower lip (he bets it would be sweeter). "That was for like, three days."
"I just think we're past the point of being preoccupied with each other's spit." Mike isn't. Not that that's something he wants to advertise. "But if you're inclined to go upstairs and have your mom ask you about college for five straight minutes..."
"No, no, it's fine, it's just..." Will looks at him while he trails off. He'd brought the can back to his lips, his long, lovely cupid's bow shadowed over by his nose. (Mike's not obsessed.) The eye contact feels heady, to Mike, watching Will so intently. Heady enough to make him stupid, apparently, because the next word he says is, "Mouths."
Will laughs abruptly and Mike can see how he nearly chokes on the drink. He hands the can back to Mike (if Mike drank from it, it would be in the same space as the ghost of Will's lips) and wipes a hand over his mouth. "It's mouths?"
"I mean—" The main thought Mike is having about mouths right now is that he wishes he could shut his own. "It's my mouth where your mouth was."
"Yes...?"
"So, it's like—" Like a single step from Will's mouth on his, like a type of closeness Mike always wants with Will, like intimacy, like— "Kissing."
While Mike considers banging his head against the basement, he watches from the corner of his eye as Will drops his hand, looking down at his lap. "That's why you're freaked out?" He's clearly trying to keep the incredulous tone, even amused, but it falls very, very flat. He sounds hurt. "Also, it literally isn't."
"No, I mean—" Mike's an idiot, and the last thing he wants is Will's gorgeous mouth shaped into a frown. Because of him. "It's... intimate."
"It's a soda can!"
"But it's you." Will scoffs, and Mike can tell he's not getting his point across. "It's your mouth. So it's, intimate."
The look is still incredulous, but at least confusion seems to have taken over the hurt. Will asks, "What are you talking about?"
Mike should probably abandon ship. Like, now. "I don't even know. It's stupid." For something to do with his hands, he takes the can and brings it to his mouth. He takes a sip. And it's just Coke, just the same as it was before Will drank from it. It's sweet, at least.
When he looks up, Will is watching him. Watching his mouth, specifically. From his lips falls a quiet, gentle, "Oh."
"What?"
"I get it." Will smiles, and finally meets Mike's eyes. "Mouths." He leans forward, and holds Mike's face in his hand. His mouth is so much closer to Mike's. He looks at Mike's lips, then at his eyes, then says, "Just, shove me off if I'm wrong, okay?"
"I don't think I will," Mike says, and then he can't say anything, because Will Byers is kissing him.
He was right. The soda is sweeter, on Will's mouth.