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“You’re gonna love Lenora!” Joyce smiles in the rearview mirror. She has been trying to cheer Will up the whole drive, but he hasn’t reacted to any of her words. He meets his moms eyes in the mirror and answers her with a blink.
“I’m so excited!” El beams beside him, her always cheery demeanor once again blinding Will. His sister Jane, who Will and his friends called ‘Eleven’ or ‘El’ because of a dice roll that saved them during a DnD game, was a ray of sunshine.
Will admired her for that; how could she always see the bright side? Though it made sense she was so positive: she had to make up for Will’s constant pessimism.
“There’s a bunch of cool places there! Places we didn’t have back in Hawkins,” Joyce says, keeping her eyes on the road. El was already talking about her plans, about how she will go to a zoo and visit an ice skating rink, as Will zoned out.
Hawkins was a shithole, sure, but it was still his home . It was still the place he grew up and all of his friends were still there. Well… ‘friends’ as in two friends, as in Eddie and Dustin, but that was more than Will needed. He was satisfied in Hawkins, he learned how to live with what he was.
And now?
Now they are driving to California, to start a new life around people Will doesn’t know, people Will doesn’t want to know. Because Will doesn’t do do-overs, he doesn’t get second chances, he doesn’t deserve to start over.
“Will?” Jane’s voice echoes beside him. Will turns to his sister and meets her gaze. She has fully turned to him, awaiting an answer to a question Will hadn’t heard.
“Huh?”
“Mom was asking if you’re joining any clubs,” his sister repeats. “At school?”
“Oh, um…” Will trails off, taking a second to actually think about his future in Lenora. Does he want to act like a normal person and join a club, make some friends? Or should he resort to his usual running and hiding, not bothering to establish relationships because he always ruins it.
He will probably choose the latter.
El catches on to his pondering and starts talking to give him time to think. “I maybe want to do sports! Or music. Maybe art! Oh, but that’s more your thing isn’t it, Will? Maybe you’ll join the art club?”
“I’m not sure they have one…” Will tries to wiggle out of the nearing obligation to join a club but Jane presses on.
“Oh, they must! Who doesn’t have an art club?!”
“Yes, honey, you have to get out there! Make some friends!” Joyce nods along from behind the wheel, earning a small nod from Will. He had to make them drop it somehow.
A silence creeps up and they drive so, the only sounds being the snores escaping Jonathan’s mouth from time to time, his head halfway off the passenger seat, drool appearing in the corner of his mouth.
Will watches as the dazzling green forest around slowly merges into houses and a city square, every turn revealing the same type of neighbourhood as before. But with every boring white-housed neighbourhood comes one or two different houses, sticking out from the rest.
The car comes to a halt as they stop in front of the big expensive-looking dandelion yellow house. The only yellow house in the neighbourhood. Of course Will can’t ever blend in with the crowd. Not even his house can blend in with the white ones around.
“Oh gosh, is this our house?” El gasps as she watches the dandelion-coloured house in shock. Joyce looks back at her and then out of the window to look at the house too.
“Oh, no honey,” Joyce looks back at her two youngest kids. “I wouldn’t be able to afford this house even in my dreams!” She chuckles and shakes her head.
“Then where are we staying? Why are we parked outside this random house,” Will furrows his brows, confused. His mom clicks her tongue once and grabs the steering wheel, putting the car in reverse.
“Becauseeee, I’m backing into our driveway,” the car starts beeping as they slowly back into what Will hopes is their driveway. Joyce runs something over in the process but soon the car is still and the doors are unlocked, Will happy to finally step outside.
He exits the car and opens the passenger door. Jonathan is still asleep. Will pokes his brother's cheek with his pointer finger as he speaks, “Joooonathaaan! Wakey wakeyyyy–”
Jonathan inhales sharply, his snore interrupted. He groans as he blinks his eyes open, focusing on Will. “Wha– what?”
“We’re here,” Will rolls his eyes as Jonathan groans again. He looks back to finally catch a glimpse of his house. “Oh my…”
Even though this house is much smaller than the yellow one, Will is still surprised at the size. The Byers family wasn’t known for their finances and he definitely wouldn’t have guessed that they had the money for this house, but nevertheless it is standing there; two stories with big windows and a front lawn, and a porch…
The only thing ‘off’ about the house is its blue colour; cerulean blue, one of Wills favourite colours to use in his paintings of water. He wouldn’t think this colour would look good on a house but apparently it does, as it blended in with the sky and contrasted with everything around.
“Go claim a good bedroom before it’s too late,” Jon pats Will on the shoulder, making him turn around. Will shoots his brother a questioning look and the older just responds with, “Go!”
Will smiles and runs inside. He gives himself a quick tour of the house before running upstairs to secure a good room. Upstairs he finds his sister, already in an empty bedroom, holding up her thumb like the artists in movies.
“What’re you doing?” Will asks as he stands in the doorway, his voice getting a yelp out of Jane. She turns around and grabs her chest, exaggerating her fright. Will raises an eyebrow.
“Measuring the rooms,” she shrugs.
“Uh huh…” Will walks inside to stand beside her in the middle of the bedroom. In front of them is a big window, floor to ceiling, face to face with the neighbouring yellow house. “With your thumb?”
El turns to him, offended, and crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?”
“Just wondering what your measurement is…” Will puts up his own thumb, closes one eye and sticks out his tongue in focus. He measures the window with his thumb, trying to understand what his sister was trying to measure in the first place.
“Oh, you know what? Fuck you,” she shakes her head and pushes down Wills arm to stop him from mocking her. He turns to her and she cocks her head slightly, “You do it all the time.”
“When painting ,” Will points out and Jane scoffs.
“ ‘When painting’ !” she mocks him and earns a slap to the arm. Jane giggles and crosses her arms again, her face turning serious. “No but seriously, I don’t think I’ll be able to have the room layout I want here.”
“Your thumb told you?”
“Fuck you, William. This room is yours, I don’t care,” she shakes her head as she walks out, continuing her ‘perfect room’ search.
Will exhales when she’s gone, a smile still lingering on his lips. This is a nice room from the looks of it but he has to check every corner before fully accepting it. He walks around the room, it’s a square layout which he likes; open spaces were always Will's thing.
He has a walk-in closet right to the left of the door and he plans putting his bed in front of it. In front of the door stands the big floor-to-ceiling window which shows the dandelion house. That will be a good painting corner…
Yup, this room is great.
Will walks downstairs and outside to the car to grab his bags. He pulls out two duffel bags and hangs them criss-cross over each shoulder, he also grabs his toolbox filled with his smaller painting supplies and two little canvases, the rest of his supplies will arrive in the U-Haul which may come today or in twenty years.
Will suddenly feels like he’s being watched and his instincts make him turn his head up, towards the yellow house. His eyes meet a pair of hickory brown ones, looking straight at him through a window.
The man had messy crow black hair and freckles spread over his cheeks like stars in the sky. His mouth was wearing the ghost of a smile and his eyes observed Will with gentleness and curiosity.
Will feels frozen for a second, his eyes unable to leave the man in the window. Still, he manages to lift his free hand and give the black-haired something resembling a wave, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
His action seems to snap the neighbour out of a trance as his eyebrows shoot up ever so slightly and his eyes widen. Will cocks his head to the side, confused, and as fast as it vanished, the man's calm demeanor returns as he waves back to Will, a smirk tugging his lip. Will shook his head in amusement and walked inside, bags heavy over his shoulders.
When he walks past the kitchen he hears his mom gasp and shout after him. “Will you’re going to break your back one day!”
“Yeah, when I’m eighty,” Will mumbles under his breath as he climbs the steps. He isn’t worried about breaking his back or arms by carrying heavy stuff because he’s been secretly working out back in Hawkins.
Something had to change.
When Will enters his room he throws his bags down on the floor, a sigh escaping his lips. He kneels beside his toolbox and cracks it open. He exhales in relief as he realises he hadn’t spilled any paint inside.
He opens one of the duffel bags and pulls out his folded easel. He puts it on the floor beside his supplies and moves the two duffel bags towards the closet to unpack the things he can.
Unfolding and hanging up clothes took much longer than Will had expected; he worked on it before and after dinner and when he was finally done it was dark out.
He pushed the second duffel into the corner in his closet and closed the closet door, not wanting to see the inside anymore after staring at it for the past two hours.
Will is a slow unpacker, sure, but this took longer than he would have guessed himself, he didn’t even have that many clothes. But there was something on his mind slowing him down all this time and it was those captivating chocolate eyes he met earlier.
The chocolate that contrasted so beautifully with the yellow house. The chocolate that was so warm and homey. The chocolate that was unknown to Will’s painter-eyes. The chocolate that was like a painting come to life.
Painting.
I can paint them.
Will hurries over to his painting supplies and picks up his folded up easel, positioning it by the window, turned away from the world. He brings over his toolbox and sets up his little 12-by-6 inch canvas he packed with him.
He begins by blending his yellows to match the beautiful dandelion colour he is looking at. He already began imagining painting the beautiful brown eyes in the middle of a yellow canvas, the painting coming together like an open sunflower.
He colour-matches his yellow to the honey shade in front of him, trying to make the corner of his canvas perfectly blend with the house. When he is satisfied with the colour he covers the whole canvas in the shade, making sure the colour is evenly distributed.
While waiting for the paint to dry Will grabs his notebook in which he always draws rough drafts of paintings he is about to paint. He flicks the book to an empty page and starts sketching out a pair of big eyes, taking up the majority of the page.
He stands in front of the window, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, balancing his notebook between his right palm and the crook of his right elbow, drawing with his left hand when he suddenly feels eyes on him. Once again.
Will lifts his head only to meet the same umber eyes he was just depicting on paper. Just like before, Will freezes for a second, seemingly stuck in the melting chocolate in front of him.
He manages to rip his attention away from the warm eyes and his eyes travel down the boy’s body, because the dandelion-house-boy also had a floor-to-ceiling window, right in front of Will’s room.
The neighbour is wearing black flannel pyjama pants and a simple black t-shirt, so plain, boring, and yet he looks… sweet.
Like chocolate.
Will glances behind him and notices that the interior of the room looked to have been done by a teenage boy and, based on the fact that a teenage boy is staring right at Will, he guesses the room belongs to him.
Well, great. Now he has a creepy neighbour that will be spying on him.
Will’s eyes return to the warm mocha and he instantly forgets that he just labeled this inviting man as a ‘creepy neighbour’. Will, not knowing what to do, repeats his action from earlier and waves at the boy.
The raven-haired waves back, smiling, and seems to get an idea. He puts up his pointer finger, motioning for Will to wait, and for some reason Will complies as the boy runs around his room, searching for something.
He soon returns with a notebook and pen in hand. For a second, Will thinks the sweet-looking boy is about to mock him like everyone else.
But he doesn’t.
No, the neighbour draws lines on the page in front of him, eyes following the pen as he writes. Will does the same. He feels his hands start to feel a little sweaty, his ear starts to itch just like it does every time he’s nervous.
The freckled boy turns the notepad around and lifts it for Will to see. On the page is a message and Will reads twice to confirm he’s not dreaming.
HI :)
Will furrows his brows but he can’t hide the smile teasing the corners of his lips. He blinks at the boy in front as he too lifts the corners of his mouth.
Will waves his free hand in which he holds his pen and mouths, “Hi.”
The boy in the window lets his head drop lightly to the side and examines Will’s face. Will can feel his cheeks warming up and his left ear itch even more. Still, he tries to stand tall.
The messy hair flies around as the boy shakes his head in disapproval and Will’s heart drops to his stomach. What is wrong?
The neighbour turns his attention to the notebook as he flips to a new page and starts scribbling again. He bites his lip as he quickly writes another message for Will. He soon lifts the notebook and there’s another message for Will to read.
WRITE PLEASE IM NOT A GOOD LIP READER :(
The message makes Will smile as he nods to the boy and flips his sketchbook to a fresh page. He writes his response and can feel the curious hickory brown staring at him, lighting his head on fire. He turns the text towards the boy.
Sorry!
Will gives his neighbour an awkward, toothy smile, as he shrugs in apology. The boy’s eyes soften and he nods. He starts writing again and soon another message is up against the window.
IM MIKE :) WHATS UR NAME?
Mike.
Will feels the tension in his body ease up for every word he reads and for every letter he writes. Standing here in his window, talking to his neighbour through notes pressed against the window is the highlight of his day and, to be honest, Will feels a little embarrassed about that.
Nice to meet you Mike
I’m Will
Will notices the crow-haired blinks a lot in response. His blinks get more frequent the more he smiles. It’s something so little, but Will keeps it dear to his heart.
THATS A NICE NAME WILL
Will lifts his brows in amusement and just as he’s about to write an answer Mike is writing something again. He quickly presses the notebook against the glass.
OH AND ITS NICE TO MEET YOU TOO :D
Thank you, Mike
NO PROBLEM!!!
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
“Have a great first day at school!” Joyce waves off Will and Jane as they walk inside the high school. The hallway is so filled with people they have to force their way inside of the building.
Will and Jane head for the principals office and when they arrive they’re greeted by a balding man with a big black beard. He beams when they walk inside.
“Oh hello! You’re the Byers twins, am I right?” the principal's mouth hangs open after the question is asked, making both El and Will slightly uncomfortable.
“Yeah, that’s us,” Will responds quickly, wanting the gaping mouth in front of them to close.
“Well, I’m principal Bauman,” he points to the nameplate on his desk. “But call me Murray, ey?”
“Okay,” Jane smiles and Murray immediately understands the sun-moon dynamic the siblings have. He nods.
“Let me take you to your classes.”
The day passes quickly, Will not really paying attention to what was going on during their lessons. As they’re walking out of the school El is talking about her day and how many people she spoke to but the only thing Will can think about are those chocolate eyes he was embraced by yesterday.
“And this guy in my history class, his name’s Mike, he’s our neighbour apparently–”
“What?” Will’s train of thought crashes as the mention of a familiar name is heard. He blinks at Jane who’s surprised by Will’s sudden interruption. Will finally coughs out. “How uh– how did you find out he’s our neighbour?”
“Well, he mentioned you–”
“What?” Will almost chokes on his own spit.
“Yeah…?”
“What did he say?”
“That he saw you carrying bags inside the house…?” his sister answers, suspicious. She has turned her attention to Will fully, her brows furrowed in confusion at his sudden change of manner.
“Oh.”
“Hm,” El purses her lips, still befuddled, but continues talking anyway, “He said we look a lot alike!”
Will smiles, “Well, I’m honoured that he thinks that because you’re a very beautiful lady.”
“And you are a very handsome gentleman,” she smiles back before nudging him in the side and sprinting away, yelling, “Loser!”
“You bitch!” Will shouts, running after her towards their car in which Jonathan waits patiently. Jane arrives at the car first and gets to ride shotgun, while Will has to sit in the uncomfortable backseat.
He shakes his head as he steps inside the car and both of his siblings laugh at him. Will hits them both in the arms but they continue giggling.
“Your run is awful !” El says in between giggles and Jonathan agrees.
“I’m surprised you didn’t trip because that was… something.”
“Oh, shut up, will you?” Will shakes his head as they drive off. “Jonathan, you literally run sideways !”
“No I don’t!”
“Yes you do!” The younger siblings say in unison and now the bullying victim is switched from Will to Jonathan. The oldest shakes his head as he tsk-tsks.
“Just reminding both of you that I am the one driving the car,” he slaps the steering wheel to prove his point as if it wasn’t obvious.
“Uh huh, uh huh…” Will mumbles and turns his head to look out of the window, his thoughts running back to the constellations of freckles and the big black nest of hair.
He remembered me well enough to recognise that El is my sister. He had seen my face so clearly he could tell we were related. He spoke about me and he thought about me.
Will remembered what he said to El earlier:
“You’re a very beautiful lady.”
Jane is very beautiful, everyone would agree. But if Mike could recognise Jane based on me did that mean that he thought I was pretty too..? No. That's not how it works.
Joyce isn’t home when they get there so Jane immediately runs to the TV, turning on her usual reality TV shows. Jonathan has work so he just drops the twins off and drives away. And Will walks to the kitchen to be met by a note from his mom saying that she will be back before dinner.
The usual.
“I’m going to my room!” Will announces to his sister as he’s walking up the stairs. He stops as he’s halfway up and waits for a response.
“Yup, have fun!”
“Call on me if you need anything!”
“I can handle myself, William!”
Will smiles and walks up the rest of the stairs and walks towards his room. He loves his twin sister so much and he’s somehow appreciating her more and more each day. Jane really was his best friend.
Will walks up to his window, the yellow paint on his canvas having dried fully. He spots his notebook on the ground, the page facing up covered in the familiar words from yesterday.
Goodnight Mike
Will feels a blush brush his face like a quick wind. He quickly recovers himself and picks up his pencil from the ground, starting to sketch those deep warm mocha eyes he remembers too well.
He draws and erases, draws and erases and draws and erases.
To capture the perfection of Mike's eyes was a challenge. There was something so special about them that Will couldn’t quite understand. Still, he did his best to capture the wide-yet-slanted, surprised-yet-familiar, smiling-yet-serious look they had.
He picks up a brush as just as he’s about to start mixing his paints a knock startles him. He puts the paintbrush on the bottom of his easel and starts walking over to his closed door but as he walks the knocks get more urgent and Will realises they’re not coming from the door.
His eyebrows furrow as he looks around his room, trying to find the source of the knocks. He looks to his floor-to-ceiling window but nothing is there. It knocks again, the sound is coming from the normal window on his right, the window in the roof.
He runs over and his heart stops when he meets those walnut coloured eyes. Mike smiles at him awkwardly and points to the window, silently asking Will to open it. Will does as the other pleases and opens the window. Mike steps inside, panting.
“Oh my god, I thought I was gonna die up there,” the boy throws himself on Will's freshly made bed. Lying on his back he puts his arm over his head. Will’s left standing in the middle of his own room, confused, amused and a little concerned.
“Why were you up there in the first place?!”
Mike lifts his head and meets Will’s eyes. “Because I wanted to hang out,” Mike smirks before dropping his head back on Will's bed.
“Couldn’t you, I don’t know, knock on the door?” Will takes a step closer to his bed, approaching Mike as if he was a wild animal. “Like a normal person?”
“Hmm,” Mike hums, thinking, “No.”
Will watches as the other boy’s chest rises and falls and it’s hypnotising. But Will shakes it off and sits on the edge of the bed, beside Mike’s legs.
“Why not?” Will nudges Mike’s leg and looks back. The black-haired props himself up on his elbows and looks at Will. Will responds with a curious head-tilt.
“I don’t do front doors.”
“That’s not the reason.”
Mike narrows his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching, fighting to smile. “I wouldn’t be let in. I'm a stranger.”
“You could have said you’re Jane’s friend. Heard you two spoke today.”
“Oh, you did?” The sly smile on Mike’s face grows. “Or I could say I’m your friend?”
“Hm,” Will thinks, his eyes still fixated on Mike, the eye contact between them holding on. “No, I wouldn’t say we’re friends.”
Mike puts a fist to his heart and falls back on the bed with a dramatic thump. “You hurt me, Byers.”
Will shakes his head, smiling at the ridiculousness of his neighbour. Amused, Will points out, “Wow, you’re such a stalker.”
“What!” Mike props himself up again, “Stalker? Me?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me, how am I a stalker?”
“Well, Mike ,” Will begins, pointing a finger at Mike and poking his chest with it. Will’s whole body burns at the touch but he doesn’t give it away. “First, I catch you watching me through the window as I’m struggling with my bags–”
“Didn’t look like you were struggling,” Mike returns the teasing tone Will gave him. The black-haired tilts his head like a cat, waiting for a response.
“Second,” Will pokes Mike's chest once again, “you watch me through my window, and writing notes like you’re in some rom-com–”
“What if I am?”
“In your dreams.”
“Yeah,” Mike breathes, his eyes falling from Will’s face down to his lap.
“What was that?” Will asks, surprised at the sudden change in energy. Mike quickly looks back at Will, his eyes expressionless.
“Nothing, continue. What’s the next reason as to why I’m a stalker?”
“Third, you magically befriend my sister and then sneak into my room through my window and then call me by my last name and I’m sure there is more to come.”
“I think you’re overanalysing this,” Mike answers as he lifts a hand to smooth out Will’s shirt. A meteor crashes right into Will’s stomach at the touch but he ignores it.
“I don’t think I am,” Will tilts his head the same way Mike’s is tilted to meet his eyes. “How would you analyse this then, Michael?”
Something flashes across Mike’s eyes before he lays back down and looks up at the ceiling. He breathes deeply and bites his lip. Will looks at him curiously and Mike catches it, so he snaps out of whatever he was thinking about and Will turns forward, away from Mike.
“I would just say you’ve got an admirer.”
Will scoffs in response, shaking his head. He hears shuffling behind him and turns back only to see Mike has made space for Will to lie down beside him. So he does.
“Admirer, huh?” Will says, looking at the ceiling. He sees Mike’s head turn to him in the corner of his eye and he does the same, their eyes meeting. Will, once again, melts in the chocolate before him, his insides getting all mushy and warm.
“Yeah,” Mike whispers and the word lingers on Will’s lips. A silence floods the room; Will doesn’t know how to respond. He can’t. He lets the conversation fade out as he lets himself get taken in by the hickory eyes.
Mike scans Will’s face carefully, brown eyes travelling from Will’s own to his disheveled brows, his crooked nose, his unevenly cut hair, his rosy cheeks and they settle on his lips. Will can feel his breath hitch.
“Then you have a very weird way of admiring someone, stranger,” Will breathes back and the chocolate snaps back up to Will’s caramel eyes. Mike’s eyebrows twitch ever so slightly and he smiles.
“Maybe I do,” the boy’s lips curve into a bigger smile when he notices Will returning it. His eyes seem to almost twinkle in the light.
Will lets his own eyes fall now, and he examines Mike’s face. The nest of black semi-curly hair on his head, the long dark eyelashes protecting his warm mocha eyes, the splattered freckles across his cheeks, a beautifully formed nose plastered in the middle.
The lips. The beautiful pink smiling lips staring right at him. Will hates to admit it but all he can think about is interlocking their lips in a tight embrace.
He lifts his gaze back up to the others eyes and they stay staring at each other, silence prickling them like light summer rain. It takes everything in Will to stop himself from brushing the stray hair away from Mike’s face and counting every speck on his flushed cheeks.
Three knocks on the door.
Both boys shoot up into a sitting position, panting as if they had been caught doing something criminal. They share a look and chuckle at their ridiculous panic.
“Will!” Joyce’s voice calls from downstairs. When did she get home?
Will stands up and walks up to his closed door, he feels Mike’s eyes burning holes in his back as he does. He puts his head close to the door and yells back, “Yeah mom? What is it?”
“Honey the neighbours are here!”
Will’s head snaps back to Mike whose eyes have widened. Will furrows his brows at the boy in his room and he mouths, “Ask who it is.”
“Which neighbours?” Will yells back, his eyes still watching Mike who’s anticipating an answer. Will notices the crow-haired plays with the sleeves of his sweater, nervous.
A knock on Will’s bedroom door sounds and both boys jump. Joyce’s voice is muffled from behind the door. “The Wheelers, from the yellow house.”
Mike clasps his hands over his mouth in shock and Will puts all of his weight against the door behind which Joyce is innocently awaiting her son.
“Come downstairs, say hello! I bet the little one’ll want to see your room.”
Mike’s eyes start darting around Will’s room, trying to think of a plan because Will is going to have to show, what he assumes is, Mike’s younger sibling his room.
“Be right there!” Will says to the door and he hears footsteps getting further away from his door. Phew.
“Shit!” Mike whisper-yells with wide eyes looking at Will. Will walks up to him and grabs his shoulders, forcing Mike to look at him.
“You can hide in my closet?” Will says, although the way his voice moves up a pitch at the end of the sentence makes it come off as a question.
“Okay, okay,” Mike agrees, stressed, as he lets Will lead him to the walk-in closet. Will pushes Mike inside, ordering him to stay in the corner ‘just to be sure’. Mike slides down the wall as he hears Will run downstairs.
The closet is warm, filled with clothes that are so Will . Mike can’t help but smile; Will had such a special energy around him, he was special.
Mike thinks back to a couple minutes prior, when they were lying down, faces inches away, taking in each other's beauty. At least that’s what Mike was doing. There was something so simply otherworldly about William Byers that pulled Mike like a magnet into his proximity.
Oh my god. What just happened?
What is he doing? He’s sneaking into a stranger's room and hiding in his closet while the rest of his family is downstairs, as casual as ever.
Mike is quickly pulled from his thoughts as he hears people enter the room. Heavy, determined steps and light, excited ones.
“And this is my room,” Will’s voice is muffled but still it makes Mike smile to himself inside of the warm closet.
“Woah! That’s Mike’s room!” Holly reacts and starts running around the room. Soon, Will’s steps follow hers and he grunts, probably lifting Mike’s sister off the ground.
“Oh-kay!” Will laughs and fondness bubbles in Mike’s throat. “You’re a quick one, aren’t you?”
“Mike says I’m like a racehorse.”
“A racehorse, huh?” Will asks curiously and Mike can see the look in the boy’s face even from behind a wall. It’s the same one he had when saying ‘admirer, huh?’.
“Yes! Because I’m as fast as a racing horse! That’s very fast!” Holly says excitedly. As she speaks the voices get closer, Mike guesses they’re walking to the bed.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Will whispers, knowing Mike can still hear him well and clear. Holly responds with a giggle and an eager agreement. “But shh.”
Both Will and Holly shush as they agree to keep their little secret.
“I think you’re faster than a racehorse,” Will whispers to Mike’s sister and she gasps.
“There’s something faster than a racehorse? I’m faster?”
“Oh yeah,” Will's voice is affirmative, “I think you’re a cheetah.”
Holly gasps and a slap is heard, which Mike guesses is her putting her hands over her mouth, just like he did earlier. She starts giggling again and then another familiar voice sounds.
“Holly! Come on, we have to go!” Karen’s voice appears and Holly groans.
“But I wanna stay with Will! I like him!” she whines and Will’s chuckle infects Mike’s ears. It was the most beautiful sound ever heard. “He said I’m a cheetah!”
“That’s amazing honey, but dad is driving you to Grammy’s, remember?”
“Yes!” A light thump; Holly jumped down from the bed. “Bye Will, can we hang out again soon?”
Will’s voice is coming from Holly’s height, he’s crouched down to meet her eye. “Of course, I would love to hang out with you, little cheetah.”
She giggles and says another goodbye as she runs off. Mike still is unsure if he should step out of the closet. He stays inside and listens closely.
“She seems to love you,” his mom says through a smile. Will hums in agreement as Karen continues. “I do have a son your age, Mike, but I have no idea where he is. Maybe he’ll come around, I’m sure he’d like to meet you. You look like his ‘type of guy’ as he would say it.”
“Oh, I’d love to meet him someday,” Will answers and Mike can hear the teasing tone in it. Though it is there for him to hear, not his mom. “I’d enjoy his company.”
Karen hums and probably nods and then she walks away. Mike hears the door to Will’s bedroom close and soon Will’s voice is heard again.
“You can come out now.”
Mike slides open the closet door slightly and pokes his head through. Will’s eyes shoot to the top of his head where the black nest is probably so much worse than before.
“Come out, dork,” Will smiles and shakes his head and Mike’s heart jumps out of his chest and into the boy’s palms. He is so beautiful.
“Okay,” Mike hums, “I’m gay.”
“Oh you–” Will laughs and rolls his eyes. He stands up and walks over to the closet, pulling Mike out. “You think you’re so funny.”
They both sit on the edge of the bed, knees almost touching. Mike nudges Will’s leg with his own. “You just laughed, so, yeah.”
Will shakes his head, amused. All Mike wants to do is grab his head and kiss every cell on that gorgeous sculpted face.
He doesn’t.
“You’re so stupid,” Will smiles and pokes Mike’s chest with his index finger.
“You love it.”
“Dinner!” Joyce’s voice echoes throughout the house and Will shrugs at Mike, telling him he has to go. Mike feels a pang of disappointment hit his head to the point of lightheadedness.
Will stands up and gives Mike a polite smile. “See you again sometime?”
Mike feels his disappointment vanish in a split second as he beams, a wide smile plastered on his lips. “ ‘I would love you see you again, little cheetah.’ ” Mike quotes Will from earlier as he walks over to the window he entered through.
“Will!” Joyce sounds again. Will tears his eyes away from Mike to turn to his bedroom door. He opens it slightly and yells out.
“Coming!” he turns back to Mike and smiles one last time.
Mike takes in the last of Will’s face, trying to comprehend how he felt the boy’s breath on his face minutes ago. He waits for one last goodbye out of Will before he can go and he gets something better. Will puffs out air and his smile widens before he whispers:
“Dork.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
I have your number Michael
We can text?
Will raises an eyebrow and Mike quickly scribbles his message. The messy handwriting appears against the window once again.
I PREFER THIS :(
Will scoffs and shrugs, mouthing a “Why?”
Mike scribbles again.
ITS OUR THING :D
Whatever you say
CRACK YOUR WINDOW OPEN PLS
Even though the request confuses Will, he complies and opens the top of the floor-to-ceiling window that’s facing Mike and he does the name.
Will sits down in front of his window and watches Mike run around his room, searching for something. This reminds Will of the first night they ‘talked’, back when Will first moved in two weeks ago.
Mike reappears with a big black and white electric guitar in hand and he plugs it into some speaker. Will has never been good at music, he doesn’t know what’s going on.
Still, he follows every little movement of Mike’s, waiting to hear what he has to play. The raven-haired is mouthing something to himself, plugging in a cable and pulling it out just to plug it back in again.
Soon enough everything is set up and Mike sits down on the floor too, the boys now sitting face to face, glass separating them.
Mike scribbles on his notepad again and Will watches curiously. He writes, pauses, thinks, and writes again. When done he shows Will the message.
WHATS UR FAV SONG?
Will stares straight ahead, unable to come up with a song for Mike to play. He shrugs and tells Mike, through his sketchbook, to play whatever he would like. Mike watches Will before okay’ing the request and beginning to play a song.
Though Will doesn’t really listen to the music. Instead, his eyes scan the focused guitarist in front of him. He watches the careful, gentle hand on the guitar neck that changes position all the time to play different chords. He watches the other hand, softly picking the guitar strings further down.
The obsidian black curls fall over Mike’s face and his mouth twitches as he focuses on correctly playing every note.
The world around Will blurred, Mike being the only visible thing, like a light in the dark. An inspiration hit Will like a train and he quickly scrambled to grab his work in progress; the painting of Mike’s eyes.
He recovers his brush and grabs the different shades of brown paint tubes. With eyes focused on Mike he blends his browns just like the last time, to match the chocolate eyes focused on playing the guitar.
Mike continues playing a melody Will is familiar with, yet he cannot remember the name of the song. He lets his paintbrush glide on the canvas, filling the semi-empty orbs with the warm brown.
Every couple of seconds Will looks up at his neighbour and catches a glimpse of the mocha behind the locks of black. He tries depicting it, the deepness, the warmth, the softness, but something just feels wrong.
He finishes the base of an iris and sighs, not convinced he will manage to illustrate those perfect brown eyes. A doubt creeps in and he bites his lip, putting the butt of the brush against his cheek as he tilts his head, analysing what might be wrong with the picture.
The music stops and Will looks up to see Mike scribbling in his notepad again. He soon lifts up the page with yet another message for Will.
WHATS BOTHERING U?
Will smiles fondly and points to his canvas, his eyes explaining that he’s struggling with that. Mike nods in understanding and purses his lips. They stare in silence again and Will searches for the ‘special’ in Mike’s eyes, which he clearly sees but once again can’t put a finger on.
ROOFTOP? :)
Another page is pressed against Mike’s window. Will reads it and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He points his finger up to the ceiling, up to the roof, and shoots Mike a questioning glance that asks if it’s Will’s roof they’re supposed to be on.
Mike looks up at the blue house’s roof and then back at Will. He nods and sends an innocent smile. Will feels his eyebrows twitch, unable to settle for a single emotion to display. He settles for agreement and mouths, “Okay.”
Mike’s face immediately lights up as he shoots to his feet. He straightens his shirt with his hands and waves to Will before exiting his room.
Will’s left sitting there on his bedroom floor, staring at Mike’s empty room. He lets himself breathe for a second and comprehend what is about to happen.
I’m about to sit on a rooftop, my rooftop, with Michael Wheeler. Yeah, this can’t go wrong at all.
Will hears a knock on the little window Mike uses to climb inside his room. He’s done it twice since the first time.
Will quickly turns his easel with the canvas away from the window; he can’t have Mike thinking he is a stalker too, there can only be one. He jogs over to the little window in the slanted roof and spots Mike waving to him. He waves back before opening it.
“Hello, stalker,” Will greets as his eyes meet the smiling boy’s own. Mike shakes his head as he chuckles.
“Are you going to stop with that? We’re friends now.”
“Parasocial relationship…” Will smirks and Mike responds with an offended scoff. He reaches out his hand for Will to grab. Before taking it Will asks, “You’re not going to kill me, are you?”
“Oh my god, no!” Mike grabs ahold of Will’s hand and pulls him closer. The physical contact makes Will’s heart stutter and he knows his face is all burgundy but he tries to ignore it; if he doesn’t think about it, it isn’t there. Mike cocks his head, “Don’t you trust me?”
“Not really,” Will shrugs as he begins climbing out of the window, his hand still clutching Mike’s tightly. “Do you have a reputation of taking people to rooftops?”
“Only you,” the freckled one responds softly. Will gets out through the window and finds himself on his slanted roof, the height making his heart beat even faster than it already was.
“That’s not very trustworthy.”
“Just– come on,” Mike drags Will higher up the roof and sits, dragging Will down by the hand he’s still holding. When they realise their hands are still holding each other, both jerk away quickly, flushing scarlet.
Will, to ignore the coldness on his palm and the lump stuck in his throat, looks out over the neighbourhood. The sun had already set and the sky was freckled with small shiny stars and even though the neighbourhood was filled with boring pearl houses, there was something beautiful with the view.
Will lies down on his back and looks up at the starry sky. He sighs in awe, “Wow.”
“Wow, indeed,” Mike is looking at the stars too. He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “It’s fascinating.”
“Space?”
“The stars,” Mike breathes, “A lot of these have probably already exploded, you know?”
Will turns his head to look at Mike, his focus now fully on the amazed raven-haired. The neighbour doesn’t notice Will’s staring. Instead, he continues.
“That one,” he points to a star, but Will’s eyes stay glued to his side, “Could have exploded many years ago, but we don’t know it yet. They’re so beautiful, they shine for us to see, and we don’t notice they’re dead before it’s too late. They have this… hm… prolonged beauty.”
“Prolonged beauty?”
“They can be dead, but they still leave an imprint, they still shine, for us. I’ve found people are like that too.”
“People?” Will sits up, his eyes never leaving Mike’s side profile. “Like the dead are still alive in our minds?”
“Well, yeah,” Mike nods, his eyes scanning the starry sky, not daring to look at Will. He bites his lip and takes another deep breath, “But also people who are still alive. They can… they can be dead inside but they continue shining for others. They give their last energy to shine for others. Even if it’s for one person. Like mom.”
Will doesn’t know how to answer that, so he just looks. He watches Mike and hopes his gaze gives the other some security, some firm ground. Mike continues.
“And some people are very much alive, but don’t emit a single spark. Like dad. I didn’t understand why it’s so hard; to emit a spark, but then I experienced it, and it is hard. I tried for a long time, you know? To click the lighter to life, to spark, but I just… couldn’t. There wasn’t even a single ember left.”
Will’s hand finds Mike’s and he caresses it with his thumb. “It’s okay. Sometimes it takes longer to spark,” he speaks softly, directly to Mike’s ear because the other refuses to look at Will.
Mike shakes his head, his lip quivering. With a trembling voice he speaks, “It was never enough. It was never enough.”
“What was never enough, Mike?” Will grabs Mike’s hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Mike turns to face him, finally, his chocolate eyes blurry behind a fog of tears. Mike’s voice breaks as he speaks again.
“ Me .”
“Oh, Mike,” Will says as he pulls his new friend into a tight embrace. He feels Mike shake in his arms and he lets the boy feel everything he seems to have bottled up.
Mike pushes his face into the crook of Will’s neck and Will feels a trail of wet tears stain his skin. His heart breaks for the man in his arms as he rubs circles on the shivering back.
Mike was so small in Will’s arms it felt like a different person. He was curled up, crying into Will as his whole body shook like a leaf. Will understood this was a side of Mike unseen, so he did his best to make him feel seen for once.
“I’m sorry,” Mike mumbles into Will’s neck, the vibration tickling. Will puts his hand in Mike’s messy hair, cradling his head reassuringly.
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Will repeats it a few times as Mike shakes his head. Will rests his jaw on Mike’s hair as he comforts, “You’re more than enough, okay?”
Mike breathes deep. “‘M sorry,” he lifts his head and wipes his eyes with his sweater. Mike’s eyes are puffy and pink and his strawberry cheeks were stained with tear tracks. “This is so awkward, I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise, it’s okay,” Will caresses Mike’s arms which earns him a weak smile. Mike’s eyes fall down. “It’s okay . Happens to the best of us.”
“Well, at least now I won’t just be a stalker but an unstable crazy stalker.”
“Mm…” Will pretends to think, “I would still just call you a dorky stalker.”
Will’s correction makes a laugh escape Mike’s lips and he can’t help but feel victorious. Will tears his eyes away from Mike and lies back down on the roof.
“Now, I have a deep thought,” Will says and Mike lowers himself beside him.
“Oh, really? Better than mine?”
“I’m always better than you,” Will turns his head and smiles, which Mike mimics. Suddenly, they’re lying inches away, breathing in each other, just like the first time they spoke.
“Well, William Byers, what revelation did you have?”
“That all secrets come out at night.”
“Wow, we got ourselves an Aristotle over here,” Mike says with fake enthusiasm, his mood having completely shifted now. Will succeeded.
“You’re just jealous that I’m smarter than you.”
“Oh, yeah, Einstein. The people just don’t understand your genius yet.”
“Thank you,” Will smiles and the familiar sweet silence comes back. The only sounds heard being their somewhat heavy breathing and the gentle rustling of trees.
Mike’s syrup brown eyes fall to Will’s lips and Will’s breath hitches. He feels his cheeks flush and he thanks the almighty for the fact that it’s so dark out Mike won’t be able to tell Will is a burning hot mess.
“Purple rain,” Will breathes out, the puff bouncing off Mike’s face and back to Will. The proximity releases adrenaline in Will’s entire body.
“What?” Mike laughs quietly as if this was a sleepover back in third grade during which you didn’t want to get caught staying up late.
“My favourite song. It’s Purple Rain by Prince.”
“Why?” Mike asks, genuinely curious. When Will first explains how it’s a good song Mike dismisses him, “A song isn’t a favourite just because it’s good. What’s the reason?”
“It was the only moment I saw my parents happy,” Will’s eyes dance between Mike’s. “When mom and dad slowdanced in the kitchen to Purple Rain. And ever since I was little I wanted to have my first kiss to the song.”
“That’s cute,” the raven locks flow around in the wind. A smile creeps onto Mike’s face and he bites it down. “Did you ever get to make that fantasy into reality?”
“It has yet to be done. Haven’t had my first kiss yet.”
“So Prince is eagerly waiting to play during it?”
“You could say so.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Will is finishing up the eyes, he had finally managed to catch the bling in the gaze, though he still didn’t know what it was. Maybe he’ll figure it out in the future.
He had added shadows to the yellow background so it looked more like the material of a flower petal. Because in the middle of painting he realised that the hickory brown eyes in the middle and the yellow around looked like a disfigured sunflower, so he decided to continue on with the sunflower theme.
It honestly made the painting better. Mike is fresh, beautiful like a flower and after his speech about not shining bright enough, not having burning embers, Will sees him as the brightest of lights. So, a sunflower is the perfect thing to describe Mike as.
Still, when looking at the seemingly finished painting, he isn’t satisfied. Maybe that is Will’s deal: never being content with anything, but there is a big chunk missing and it isn’t the mysterious glimmer in the eyes.
“Will,” a knock on his bedroom door and Jane’s voice behind it. “We’re going to visit the Wheelers, are you coming?”
Will basically runs over to the door when hearing the familiar surname. He opens the bedroom door so swiftly a wind pushes against him. Jane stands on the other side, startled.
“Definitely coming.”
“Oh-kay…” Jane says suspiciously but walks downstairs with Will closely behind. Downstairs they meet Joyce and Jonathan who are already ready to leave the house.
Will quickly fixes himself and they all leave together, walking towards the yellow house that was all too familiar. Apparently, Joyce and Karen had exchanged phone numbers and planned a little ‘family get-together’ today.
Will has never been more happy for his mother’s social skills.
As soon as they walk inside Will’s eyes find Mike who’s standing shyly a few feet away from the door. Right after Karen greets him Will is hit with a flying toddler.
“Will!” Holly hugs his legs and Will pries her away to crouch down and actually hug her.
“Hello, little cheetah.”
He looks up and sees Mike watching them fondly, smiling, his tense shoulders loosened now. After the hug Holly runs to greet El, who is her new apparent favourite, and Will walks over to Mike.
“Hello, stranger,” Will mumbles to Mike as he walks up. Mike shakes his head with a smile and gestures towards the stairs to lead Will up to his room.
“Aristotle,” the freckled boy says behind Will as they walk up the stairs and Will shoots a sharp glance behind his shoulder.
Mike’s room is bigger than it looks from Will’s window, but just as messy. When they walk in Mike runs around the room, kicking around his junk.
“I’m sorry I tried to clean but then I got distracted and–”
“Distracted with what?”
Mike rubs his neck, embarrassed. The shy reaction to Will’s question made him more intrigued. He presses on with a fixed look and Mike finally answers, “You painting.”
Will’s heart stops for a second before continuing to beat, faster than usual. Mike was watching him paint, and he didn’t notice. Good thing Will places the easel so the painting was facing away from the window or it would have been awkward.
“Oh.”
“You were very focused. What are you working on?”
“Oh, um– nothing important. Just– a training piece.”
“Uh huh…” Mike purses his lips and studies Will’s face, trying to find a crack. But Will stands strong and Mike lets it go as he plops down on the bed. “I’m so fucking tired.”
Will takes a seat at the edge of the bed. “From staring at me like the creepy stalker you are?”
Mike just groans in response as he puts a hand over his face. He separates his index and middle finger so his eye is visible. He looks at Will. “Maybe…?”
Will shakes his head and laughs, turning to scan Mike’s room. The walls were aegean blue and filled with posters: band posters, movie posters, ads… it was a very cluttered room, the opposite of Will’s own. Very ‘Mike’.
Will turns to Mike and points to the guitar. “Play me a song?”
The Byers family spent the whole evening at the Wheelers house, they started out separated in their duos: Karen and Joyce, Jonathan and Nancy, Jane and Holly who annoyed Mike and Will. Later they all ate dinner together, Karen made a big lasagna and it was the most delicious thing Will had ever tasted.
“I’m moving in,” Will had whispered to Mike during the dinner, in between his moans of pleasure. Mike had smiled and whispered back.
“You’re welcome to stay with me.”
Then the families had indulged themselves in some board games. Though the calm start was short-lived as Joyce and Jonathan began arguing over Monopoly money and it was revealed that Holly had been quietly adding cards to Mike’s Uno deck, pretending he had dropped a card.
And he fell for it every single time.
Now, Will and Mike are back in Mike’s room, talking. Joyce, Jon and El had already left and Will said he would be back home soon too; there is nothing dangerous about walking home for thirty seconds.
“And then Eddie goes ‘oh but Vecna is alive!’ and we all freak out!” Will tells the story of his old friend group's most remembered DnD game. Mike is surprisingly very invested in the story.
“No! But he was dead?!”
“I know! That’s what we thought… and then Jane had the choice to roll a number over ten to revive me and Dustin or fight Vecna on her own. She chooses to save us and rolls an eleven!”
“Did you win the campaign?!” Mike asks, eager to know. Will pauses for a moment for dramatic effect. Mike shakes his shoulders, “Did you win?!”
“You bet your ass we did!”
Mike exclaims in happiness and the boys share a smile. The comfortable quiet falls over them like a blanket once again and they stay still, Mike’s hands still on Will’s shoulders.
This time around the silence is loaded with something neither can decipher. They both scan each other's faces, eyes lingering on lips. Mike feels an anticipation rise in his chest.
Maybe this is it, he thinks.
Will’s eyes travel from Mike’s left cheek, across the bridge of his nose, to the right cheek and a soft gasp escapes him. Mike furrows his brows; does he have sauce on his face from dinner?
“Freckles!” Will exclaims, smile widening. Mike’s confusion grows as Will stands up and grabs Mike’s wrist. He gives it a shake. “It’s the freckles! I’m sorry I gotta go!”
And, almost like a passing train, Will disappears out of Mike’s room and house,a gust of wind behind him, leaving the curly haired confused on his bed. Mike starts wondering about what he might’ve done wrong. He was so close.
He has been planning to make a move on Will for almost two weeks!
Ever since he accidentally opened up about his self-doubt to Will on the rooftop, ever since Will held him in his arms, ever since he whispered words Mike so badly wanted to hear…
“You’re more than enough, okay?”
It seemed too good to be true.
It seemed too vulnerable to be nothing.
It seemed too romantic to be ‘just friends’.
The lights in Will’s room turn on and Mike’s eyes dart to the eagerly moving boy in his room. Will hurried over to his canvas, which Mike hadn’t seen yet, and picked up his brush. He took a paint tube and squeezed it out on a piece of cardboard before dipping his paintbrush in.
When the brush was all covered in brown paint Will raised it and started splattering the paint on the canvas like a madman. What was he doing?
He splattered for a minute and added his own dots with a smaller brush before backing away and admiring the picture, checking it out. He smiled and continued his touch-ups.
Mike shot up from his bed, determined, and walked towards their attic. Every step he took was heavier, every breath quicker, every heartbeat stronger. This had to be done. Now.
He climbed out of their window in the attic and climbed over to Will’s roof, an action embedded in his muscle memory. He quickly found the little window that led to Will’s room and lightly knocked.
Will turned around and met Mike’s eyes, his own softening right away at the sight of his friend. Will walks over and opens the window and lets Mike inside.
“I’m sorry I left, it was important,” Will explains.
“It’s okay. I’m here now,” Mike responds with a shrug. Will puts the paintbrush down on his desk and crosses his arms, eyes not once leaving Mike’s.
“It’s almost twelve A.M.”
“A wise man once told me that ‘all secrets come out at night’.”
“Oh, really? That man does sound real wise wonder who he–”
Will’s sentence is interrupted by Mike crashing their lips together, his mind long gone and his body being in control now. Will tastes sweet, salty, sour, spicy, hot, cold, beautiful, gorgeous, perfect .
Mike pulls his lips away when he realises what he just did. His eyes are wide as they watch Will try to understand. The brunet meets Mike’s eyes.
“Mike…” he breathes.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry!” Mike clasps a hand over his mouth in shock but Will doesn’t seem to be all that surprised. He snakes his hand around Mike’s wrist, pulls it away from his mouth and drags him further inside the room.
Will doesn’t say a word as he leads Mike towards the easel that holds the mysterious canvas Mike’s been watching for so many weeks. Well, a month.
There it was: a yellow canvas containing a pair of brown eyes with freckles around them. Mike’s pair of brown eyes. Will had painted Mike’s eyes.
“It’s supposed to symbolise a sunflower, kind of,” Will explains as he hovers his finger over the painting, pointing out the details. “And earlier I realised that I was missing your freckles. That’s why I ran off.”
Mike’s eyebrows go up his forehead as he studies the painting, his eyes dance around the different details faster than ever, tears building up. He turns to look at Will. “This is… me?”
Will nods. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “It’s you, Mike.”
Mike rubs his face with his hand before letting his eyes fall to Will’s lips again. They’re pink from the crash-kiss. Mike meets Will’s eyes again and now they’re filled with anticipation.
“Can I kiss you again?” Mike whispers and Will quickly nods his head, not able to muster up a single word.
Mike moves forward and cups the back of Will’s head, interlocking their lips again. This time it’s soft, gentle, scared. But Will pushes into the kiss, letting Mike know that it’s okay.
They walk over to the bed, limbs interlocked. Will yelps when he falls back as he hits the bed and he ends up with Mike over him. They giggle in between sloppy kisses, and Mike feels euphoria course through his blood.
He did it.
He kissed Will Byers.
Mike pulls away and immediately notices the disappointment on Will’s face. He gets off of Will and sits normally on the bed, motioning for Will to do the same and he follows.
“We are fulfilling your fantasy,” Mike says against Will’s lips and gives him a peck.
“Mike, no–”
“I only want to see you laughing in the purple rain!” Mike gives a sloppy kiss to a giggly Will. “Purple rain, purple rainnnnn!”
“You sound horrible,” Will smiles and takes Mike's lips in his again. Mike pouts in response and Will bites his lower lip. “You sound amazing.”
“I never wanted to be your weekend lover!” Mike sings with a raspy voice to an amused Will that’s watching him, stunned. “Woah!”
“Oh my god! Dork,” Will embraces Mike and they get back to their careless making out, falling onto their sides as their bodies tangle together.
“You love it,” Mike kisses the tip of Will’s nose and then his lips travel across the whole of Will’s delightful face. Will’s giggles make Mike’s heartbeat speed up.
After kissing every spot on Will’s face Mike pulls back and takes in the moment. He can’t believe he’s in Will’s bed, kissing his face and giggling. Serenading him with a Prince song, too.
Will’s lips twitch up into a smile as he caresses Mike’s face and whispers, “Thank you.”
Mike’s brows furrow; he should be the one thanking Will , but no, here he is, an angel in human form, thanking Mike. This boy is beyond perfect. “For what?”
“For making my dream come true,” Will plants a soft kiss on Mike’s forehead and when his eyes return to the familiar warm cocoa he sees that glimmer again. That look he tried to decipher so long.
Only this time Will knew what it was.
It was love.