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"Will?" Mike knocked on the glazed oak of Will's bedroom door. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah," Will called flatly from inside his bedroom.
"Are you mad at me?" Mike nervously fiddled with the cuffs of grey long-sleeve he had borrowed from Will.
"No, why?" Will's voice was low and ragged. His gaze didn't stray from the cracked ceiling.
"I don't know. I just feel like you haven't really talked to me that much," Mike mumbled. "I mean, last time you were like this you were, like, angry with me, and it sucked," He thought about his arrival from the airport, how he had aimed for Will's embrace only to be rejected. A taste of his own medicine, he supposes.
"I guess I am kind of mad at you. It's stupid, though," Will's voice softened.
Mike laid down on the opposing side of Will's bed. "Talk to me,"
Will sighed. "I just keep on thinking about how you ignored me the entirety of last summer. I know we made up but it's just annoying that you waltz back into my life after you treat me like shit and..." He paused and gulped as his voice wavered from the tears that welled in his eyes. "I don't know. I'm just scared that you might forget about me again." The socket of his jaw bulged as he clenched it. Seemingly sarcastic, he says, "Forget to call,"
"If the line wasn't busy all the time, I would've. Will, it wasn't my fault," Mike said with a defensive tone. He was quick to defend himself, his fear of vulnerability egging him on into saying things he regrets.
"Just like it's not your fault I don't like girls?" Will snarled quietly. His eyes wet and widened at his own words. Louder, he said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"No, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry." Mike cringed as he recollected that vivid memory. The tears in Will's eyes didn't pour the same way the rain had, no, they just sat there. Mike remembered how his eyes had traced Will's quivering lips because he couldn't stand watching the shorter boy cry.
After a pause, Mike scoffed at his idiocracy. "That was just pure assholery."
Will laughed and wiped his eyes. "I don't know why I'm still mad at you. You've made up for your... 'assholery',"
"I'm glad," Mike rearranged his gaze to where Will lay on his back. Will stared back at him, eyes irritated, eyelashes wet and accentuated. "I get it, by the way."
Will hummed as if to inquire.
"Just being... angry," Mike started. "You had more reason than I did, but still, I just feel so pissed all the time."
"Did you have any reason?" Will rolled over on his side and looked up at Mike with big, beautiful doe eyes. Fortunate enough for him, Mike didn't see.
Mike braced himself. He could explain his general sexuality; similarly, he could confess his undying love for Will. But, god, did he yearn to crack himself open and tell Will everything he was feeling, just like he used to.
In a lame attempt to make up excuses for himself and try and mend some of Will's heart, he spilled his guts: "When you went missing, Troy said some really mean shit about you. But, the things that stuck out to me most were the things about you liking boys. And, it was stupid because he didn't know jackshit about what you fucking liked. The stuff he said was about you, it was directed at me. He was, without really even saying it, calling me a flamer or something. And I tried brushed it off as 'dumb bully shit', but when you came back..."
I tried to fall in love with El. I thought, maybe if I fall in love with her, then I won't be such a..." Mike makes a baffled noise that sounds like a laugh and a sniffle. "Maybe I won't say that. But," Mike rolled over on his side, and his eyes interlocked with Will's. "I tried to find something in El that I already found in you. I tried to push you away as if that would make me being--" He swallowed nervously, speaking a little quieter--"as if that would make me being gay go away." He returns to his normal speaking voice. "I know that doesn't make any sense," Mike says, lulling laughter out of a breathless Will. "Holy shit," Mike chastises himself mentally. "Sorry,"
"No, it's fine." Will had a chance to manipulate and mold those words that had come out of his mouth, but the next ones, he says almost without realizing it, as if he were acting on instinct. "I feel the same way."
"Uhm, thanks." Mike scrunches his face together as his mind reconstructs itself. "No, that was stupid--" He says rushed-- "Uh, cool."
"Cool," Will bites his lip and nods. Obviously nervous, he snakes his hand over to Mike's, nudging his fingers at him. Mike obliges and exposes his palm, lax as Will intertwines their fingers. "I'm really glad we talked,"
'For once,' Mike thinks.
Mike squeezes Will's hand and smiles. "Yeah, me too,"