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Letting a groan escape his mouth, Mike squeezes his eyes shut, body curled up tight despite his long limbs. He'd pushed his blanket off hours ago, feeling like he was overheating with anything on top of him. He can tell he's cramping bad this time, and without a doubt, he knows Will is going to ban him from the party meetup today.
He groans again, the realization hitting him. Too bad taking T didn't stop it, he thinks with a hazy mind.
He's still in the same position when his bedroom door opens minutes later, a hand falling on his arm.
"Mike? Baby?"
Mike feels like crying at his boyfriend's voice. "...Get the heating pad, please," Mike answers weakly.
"Period came early?" He can hear Will digging in his closet, looking for the heating pad his mom got specifically for him.
"Yeah," Mike groans, the pain hitting him again. "I really fucking hate this..."
Will hums, and seconds later he's pulling at Mike's arm. "C'mon, we gotta make sure you're not bleeding everywhere and get you some tylenol."
Mike slowly follows, wincing at how his skin pulls. One very good thing about getting your period early: not having the energy or willpower to get a pad. He's definitely not being sarcastic.
Will drops him off at the bathroom, turning the shower on when Mike asks.
"I'll find you some sweatpants and a t-shirt?" Will offers over the sound of running water. And Mike kind of feels bad about this, about making Will do all of this for him just because his abdomen hurts.
"Yeah, sorry about... all of this." He waves his hand like an afterthought, watching as Will's expression shifts in a way that Mike has trouble reading even after all these years.
"Mike," he starts softly, kneeling down in front of Mike. "I don't mind doing all of this for you. I love you."
Mike wrinkles his nose. "I know, but I shouldn't need you to drag me out of bed." He looks down, hands rubbing together, or more caressing, searching for softness. "I'm supposed to be able to take care of myself."
"Well," Will starts, reaching forward to push hair out of Mike's face and gently coax his head back up. "You're in pain and a lot of people wouldn't be able to either. I want to make it easier however I can. If that means I help you take care of yourself, then I'll do it."
Again, Mike feels like crying. "Thank you for being here," he murmurs instead.
"Of course." Will stands up, pressing a kiss to the top of Mike's head. "Now, you need to shower."
Then Will is gone, and Mike is wincing as he peels his clothes off, blanching at the blood. The warm water is soothing, and he can admit he feels better when he's done.
The clothes are on the sink when he gets out. He dries off and throws his underwear and a pad on first, grabbing the dark sweatpants next. Finally, Mike realizes that the shirt is one of Will's, and a smile splits his face.
Will is sat on his bed, a book in hand when he gets to the doorway of his room. He looks up, smiling, and reaches for the bottle beside him, standing to get the water from Mike's nightstand.
"Here." Two pills are set in his palm, and he wastes no time swallowing them, the dull ache already sharpening again.
Mike collapses back on the bed, curling up before Will passes him the warmed-up heating pad to place under his stomach. "Thanks," Mike mutters, as Will slides in behind him.
"No problem," he returns. "I told the others we won't make it today."
Mike hums, waiting for the medication to kick in. "And they're okay without us?" He tries not to sound worried, but he knows Will instantly sees through him.
"They just hope you get better, baby. They know you're in good hands."
Mike can't help the instant blush that covers his cheeks. "Okay." He snuggles back in Will's arms, content to know that his boyfriend is still here.