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Chapter Text

WILL POV -

Solve 6x2 - 17x + 12 = 0

Will tapped his finger against the table, chewing on his pen while he stared at the maths problem plastered on his exam. He knew the method, but the equation remained lost in the back of his mind.

Did he have to draw a graph?

This question was complicated, yet not as complicated as he made it out to be. He hated maths but couldn't afford to fail. He needed to pass, or risk losing his scholarship.

The pencil hovered hesitantly over the paper as he debated whether to write an equation he thought fit, or scribble a few illegible numbers and hope for the best.

A fly buzzed, mocking him.

Then, out the corner of his eye, he noticed Elanor Brenner, the smartest, cutest girl in class, exposing the mere corner of her paper. She quietly slid her test a little further, closer to Will's desk, the answer to the quadratic question underlined neatly.

He glanced at the paper, then her, then back to the paper. El never helped anyone; she was way too cautious for that.

With an answer in hand, he quickly scribbled down the solution which caused the knot in his chest to loosen just a bit. His eyes softened, a shy smile tugging on his lips.

Pouty lips faintly smiled back. She tucked a stray strand of her brown hair behind her ear and turned her attention to the rest of her exam.

Will blinked in surprise, filled with vigour.

A sudden rush of confidence followed. Will took a deep breath as the confusion in his mind cleared, replaced by a steady understanding. With a few calculated moves, he turned to the next question, writing each number until a voice called out.

"And that is time... pens down."

Will scrawled the answer to the final question before it was mercilessly snatched out his hands.

The bell rang shortly after, the students around him piling out the room, gathering into their groups and chatting about the exam. Will sat quietly at his desk for a moment, secretly watching El gather her things, her usual confidence falling for a moment as she passed a subtle, understanding nod. She turned and left the room without another glance.

He ran a hand through his hair, a faint warmth spreading in his chest from the unexpected kindness. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but he just shrugged, packing his stationary away.

Smack!

A hand connected with the back of his head, firm, yet gentle enough to understand it was a way of camaraderie. His friend, Dustin was the culprit.

"Ugh" Will growled, rubbing the back of his head in mocking pain.

Dustin's hand travelled as he threw an arm over his shoulder, squealing in excitement, "Dude! Elanor helped you?"

"That never happens!" Lucas joined in, emphasising his words, "She's got to have a crush on you or something."

Max, beside him, rolled her eyes, "Just because a girl helps a guy doesn't mean she must have a crush on him." she lectured before a slight pause and a nudge to Will's shoulder, "but in this case she's defo crushing, like did you see her smile?!"

Delusional people everywhere.

Faint red blushed his face from embarrassment. Will shook his head firmly with a giggle, "Nah! You guys are reading into it to much. She probably just feels bad because I'm on a scholarship."

"Exactly!" Dustin tapped his shoulder, "So maybe you should get some private tutoring," he gestured.

"Ew! Even the notion!" he stuck out his tongue in mocking disgust.

"You're such a prude." Max audibly groaned, dramatically throwing her head back "You two would be like the perfect couple. Both into reading, super smart, friendly and honestly, equally boring. It just... makes sense!"

"Seriously man, I think you should ask her out. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Fear? humiliation? death?" sarcastically, Will counted on his fingers.

"Ask her out! Ask her out! Ask her out!" Dustin cut in sharp, his chants getting louder with each repetition. Max and Lucas joined in.

Bickering filled the air. Will retreated into his own mind, blocking his ears with his palms. If only they knew the truth about him, that Will wasn't how they thought he was.

He loved his friends... but sure were they loud.

---- 7:37 PM ----

"I'm not saying you can't have your little gay comics posted here... but what I am saying is you can't write them off as a business expense!" the rebellious girl held the parcel hostage until she finished her lecture.

Behind the screen of his computer, Will looked up at her with puppy-dog eyes. "Sorry Ma'am," he feigned innocence, watching the girl shake her head in disapproval.

His manager, Robin doubled down on her point, "I don't want the IRS to think we're claiming, 'Prince of the Moonlight; NSFW edition' as part of our taxes!"

Bright red, Will blushed hard, "Actually, the 'NSFW' part is because of the blood and violence,"

"Sure thing." She looked him up and down, not believing a word, "Next time, can you at least hide the evidence under something boring? Like printer paper or toner cartridges... no body audits toner. I don't even know what toner is."

"Isn't that tax fraud?"

"Are you my accountant?"

"No...?" Will replied a little unsure, was that a trick question?

"Then its settled. Toner."

"Umm... noted."

Pungent smells reached Will's nose, physically causing him to recoil in disgust. "What the hell is that smell?" he asked, watching as Robin gestured to some boys engrossed in their video games.

Robin sighed, perched on the counter, "It seems my marketing is working a little too well..."

"But can we at least spray some perfume? I'm literally melting over here from the stench!"

Crash!

Screeching, piercing, shocking gasps cut through the air, making several patrons jump.

Will and Robin turned instinctively just to see the culprit, Steve Harrington, the co-manager crouching to pick up the shattered pieces of a latte mug he had just dropped on the floor. He was laughing, running a hand through his hair, the edge of his shirt lifting just an inch, causing a group of girls at the table to coo in unison, one offering a napkin like he was a prince.That was the third one this week! 

This was getting ridiculous, "And you call this a marketing strategy? He's actively slowing productivity!" 

Robin grinned, "Oh please. We both know those girls don't care about coffee. They're here for Steve. And the free WiFi is a bonus." 

"Yeah... but this is supposed to be a business," Will argued, crossing his arms, "But even you have to admit, he's a little bad at this, isn't he?" 

"Yeah, but then again, part of his charm is him being bad at his job. Like a puppy with no sense of direction," she smiled, "He brings in the women, and those women bring in the men. It's foolproof." 

"And who do I bring in?" Will joked. 

"Well, I'm sure you can bring in at least one guy?" Robin chuckled with a sympathetic pat on his back. She pushed herself off the counter, "Chin up Byers" she reminded before slipping into the back to grab the equipment to clean the mess Steve made. 

Will smirked, watching her stride over to the cafe, mop and dustpan in hand. She placed a sign down, ceasing the area to the best of her abilities. 

Once out of sight, Will reached to snatch the parcel left exposed on the table, his heart fluttering with excitement. He carefully unwrapped the package. 

The comics were crisp, still in their original store casings, Prince of the Moonlight, volumes four, five, and six, with the English translation available virtually nowhere. He slid the comic out, taking a second to admire the covers, the way his fingers reflected off the glossy surface and the subtle smell of freshly printed paper.

He needed to study as he usually does at work... but that could wait just a few minutes, right?

Glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention, Will ducked down slightly, slipping volume four under the counter. He kept it angled low, away from prying eyes, hoping it appeared as though he was simply checking inventory or maybe scrolling on his phone.
Volume four in English. This is all he's wanted since the first announcement was made. As he turned the first page he was reminded of the gentle art, the tender gestures and the thought put into every detail. He kept his giggles quiet, catching himself to clear his throat. Hardening his expression. 

Joy didn't mean safety. 

Nobody could know. No one would understand. He told only two people about his sexuality, and that was only because it was an accident. He needed to hide this from everyone else; it only led to bad experiences in the past. Even in his nicer, quieter, private school, he learned not to share too much about himself. He shuddered at the memories from his middle school.

He lost himself in the pages, how many pages were left of this comic? Had he almost finished half the fourth volume? He wanted to savour the pages but fell into the trap of reading too many at once.

Ring...

Piercing the air, the bell on his desk caused a slight tremor to his counter. Why didn't the front door ring? Was he that distracted?

In a rush he flipped the book over so the pages faced the counter, then with practised agility he hid the cover with a flyer. His heart thud. His fingers fumbled as though being caught shoplifting, not reading. 

Standing at the counter was the most majestic boy Will had ever seen, tall, his hair effortlessly perfect, piercings in Will's favourite areas and clothes showing he had some sort of style.
Maybe it was the way he leaned on the counter, or the way he carried himself or simply just his attractive face, but Will was lost in the moment.

Who was this beautiful man?

--------

1726 Words

Tell a friend to tell a friend, I'm backkkkkkkkkkk

If you have any questions about the fanfic and how it'll work (or just in general) feel free to ask here!

This is just the pilot chapter for the new book... This chapter was very long and so I split it into two! So I hope it wasn't too boring. it will get better.

Remember to check out my other books, 'Panic in the Movies', 'Project Playdate', 'Comic Catastrophe', 'Siren', 'Road Rage', 'Don't Be A Dingus' and 'Love Me More'

:)

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV –

The tall boy gazed flickered briefly down at the half-hidden book under Will's desk, a brow raising in surprise, maybe judgment or shock.

Did he see? Or was that paranoia? Will was imagining things.

The boy rang the bell again, snapping Will out of thought. "Oh shoot!" Will whispered under his breath, brushing the hair out his eyes, "Hello, Welcome to 'Byte Size Cafe'. How can I help you today?"

The boy didn't answer straight away, yet his expression wore a smirking grin, "Yeah," he said casually, voice low and amused at nothing in particular, "I need a couple of hours on the computer."

Will kept his expression neutral, pulling up the booking screens, "Sure thing. two hours for twelve dollars?" his eyes cast up for a second.

the tall boy slid a crumpled twenty dollars across the counter with a cooked grin, "Keep the change boss man. Buy yourself something nice."

Will furrowed his brows, handing over a printed slip with a QR code on it "Scan this when you log in,"

The tall boy took it between two fingers, chuckling like even the QR code was somehow funny. "You're funny man."

"I didn't even say anything." Will muttered, what was wrong with this man? Why was he so weird? it made Will's skin crawl.

The tall boy sauntered off toward a row of computers at the back, passing some girls sitting with their iced lattes. He leaned back on the chair, throwing his bag on the back.

"Ladies, ladies..." he heard him say with a witty remark. A moment later, one of the girls giggled, placing a hand on his knee, while the other asked for his number.

What the hell? How did that work? It was tacky,

He didn't get it. Those types of lines were ridiculous, borderline gross, and yet somehow, they were eating it up like poetry. It was the type of things that only worked in movies, never in reality. Was it because this mystery man was hot...? Perhaps.

Although, Will knew that if a man, like that, spoke those lines to him, he too would be fooled by the confidence and pure chance of it occurring.

Lost in thought, Will didn't even realise when this ravenette casually pulled out a lighter, the cigarette already sitting upon his plump lips.

"Hey! You can't do that here!" Will's voice fell on deaf ears.

Great! Another hooligan.

That did it. Will pushed off the counter, marching over and without hesitation plucked the cigarette straight from the boy's mouth.

"Smoking," Will held the unlit cigarette into the sky for emphasis, "is strictly prohibited in here!"

The ravenette merely blinked at him, half-surprised, half-amused, the same damn cocky grin on his face. The girls gasped in shock.

"C'mon boss man," his grin ever-present, now infuriating. "Don't be such a bore."

"You could," Will said evenly, "go outside if you really want to smoke. Or, you know, maybe sign up for Smokers Anonymous if you can't make it through two hours without one."

Perhaps that one was too far... he just hated smokers. It reminded him of someone unpleasant.

One beat of silence, then another.

Muffled laughter came from the girls. One even hid her grin behind her hand, whispering something to her friend, they rolled their chairs away, their attention shifting to their screens once more.

The boy's confident posture faltered just momentarily, Will thought he provoked the bear; that maybe the smug biker was going to snap at him or get aggressive for being embarrassed.

But instead, the tall boy tilted his head with a chuckle, tongue poking out like a disobedient child, playing on his playful demeanour. Then, with a careless stretch, he stood, towering over the brunette.

"Thanks for holding that for me!" he snatched his cigarette back with a little wink, turning toward the front door, leaving the faint jingle of the front bell... and the soft smell of cigarette smoke.

Will slid back behind the counter, heart still beating a little faster than normal, and pulled his comic out from under the register. The computer cafe had quietened down a little now that Mike had gone outside for a smoke.

A few minutes passed when the door chimed again.

Will glanced, expecting maybe another customer or a gaggle of teens, but it was a familiar face. The tall boy re-entered with two big cardboard boxes that looked too heavy to carry so causally. He carried them under each arm like it weighed nothing, filtering through the chairs and tables with effortless ease.

"What the...?" Will blinked.

His hazel eyes followed the tall boy, curious. What was in there? Knowing the types he usually got in here, it was either videogames or snacks; but two boxes? How many snacks could it be?

Curiosity filled his every pore and he leaned on his elbows, peeking over the counter.

Mike caught him immediately. A small smile painted on his lips as he nodded in acknowledgment like they were good friends.

Then he strolled right past the counter without a word and headed straight for his computer. He set the box down with a little thud and pulled out the chair, sitting down like he belonged there.

Whatever! Will couldn't care less.

His attention turned back to his comic, watching the characters progress in their relationship; he could only ever wish to attain such a thing. Yet from the corner of his eyes, Will could see a commotion occurring.

The tall boy was surrounded, like planets orbiting their host star. Girls leaned on the back of his chair, whilst boys also joined in, sliding to his side. They seemed to be fighting, or bidding over something, their voices quiet, more focused.

Will narrowed his eyes; what was he up to?

Ignorance was bliss. That's what Will told himself; he really did. Whatever that biker was doing was none of his business. He could flirt with every girl in Hawkins and become bros with every guy for all he cared.

However, something was being exchanged, paper bills were being waved around, slipping into Mike's palms, and in return they were being granted an item Will couldn't see.

Drugs? That was the only thing Will could think of. Their hushed voices, secretive movements and crowding only lead to one sort of conclusion. He was supposed to keep things in order; not because he cared about who did drugs, because in actuality, he didn't bother himself with other's lifestyles. Rather, he owed it to Robin and Steve, who had employed him, protected him and knew his deepest secrets.

How bad was this guy? First a cigarette, now selling drugs in the middle of an internet cafe?

Perfect. Exactly what Will needed today. A drug bust.

He closed his comic, placing it carefully back inside the parcel as he arose. With practised steps of a teacher, he advanced toward the group, his voice more confident than he felt.

Please don't be a drug operation, please don't be a drug operation, please don't be a drug operation.

"Hey!" his voice sharp enough to cut through the crowd, "What's going on here?"

Through the people, he caught the sight of the product. Not little baggies or pills, or whatever drugs looked like. This was nothing that looked like contraband.

...CDs?

The boxes were filled with DVDs in cheap jewel cases, the posters of the movies printed in low resolution. Entire stacks of movies, new and old; even some that had been recently released.

Will tilted his head, "Wait. you're... selling CDs?"

"What? You think I'm a slinging crack in a place like this?"

Embarrassment covered his ears, painting them red, "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to," the tall boy chuckled, handing another CD to a girl who just handed him a Ten, "Relax boss-man. It's just movies. New releases and shit. I'm sure there's a new movie you really want to watch," he offered a bribe.

Pondering that question, Will crossed his arms; even if there was a movie he wanted to watch, he didn't have time. Between work and school, he didn't have a free moment to enjoy something so trivial.

"I don't!" he stood firm, "And you're not supposed to sell stuff in here!"

"Uh-huh," the boy's cocky grin returned with a fake thoughtful expression. He leaned back in his chair, taking great amusement, "And are you going to punish me? Are you gonna confiscate my CDs the way you stole my cigarettes?"

Will kept restrained; his jaw clenched. He didn't care about any dumb CDs. He just didn't want Robin or Steve in trouble for this buffoon's illegal trades.

"Your whole business model is illegal, you know?" he crossed his arms, "Its Copyright Infringement,"

The ravenette leaned forward, mockingly resting his arms on the pile to pretend like he was listening. "Ooh! Big words. 'Copyright Infringement'." He cast a pouting smile, "Look at you 'Little Mr Lawyer Man'."

Will ignored the job. How insufferable. In one quick motion, he took hold of the box in Mike's lap, snatching it from under him, causing Mike to stumble his head forward.

"What are you doing?"

That finally got the tall boy's attention,

Tucking the box under his arm, he lifted his chin, "I'm confiscating them! I'm not letting you turn this into your shady Blockbuster spot,"

"The fuck's Blockbuster?" the biker chuckled, only half-joking. Yet he didn't lunge, nor threw a fit. He simply stared Will deep in the eyes, taking the second box from beneath his feet into his lap without breaking eye contact. "I guess that means I'll just have to sell this one instead,"

"Ugh! I'm taking that one too!" Will attempted to reach, but Mike dodged out the way,

"Uh, uh, uh. No grabbing," he taunted, mocking him, "You're adorable, you know that?" he said between chuckles. "Little café cop, confiscating my stockpile."

Will's face burned, "I'm not joking."

"And I'm not joking either,"

This wasn't worth the fight. Will groaned under his breath and turned away, muttering an entire slew of hateful remarks he only wished he had the guts to say. The laughter from the crowd pricked his ears as Mike sold his second box.

Will could stop it, but his heart thud in his chest, a mix of adrenaline and fear. How did he just scold a boy as attractive as that? What was he doing? And why wasn't the boy angrier with him?

---- 10:07 PM ----

Time passed.

The café had thinned out and the tall boy was out of computer minutes and bootleg CDs. The bustling crowd from earlier had mostly dispersed, and the only sounds left were hushed chatter and the occasional clack of someone doing a last minute assignment.

Will thought his shift might just end normally as he finished the final page of the fourth volume of his comic. That was until he heard his desk bell ring, first once, then twice, then a rapid onslaught of sounds,

"What?" Will looked up annoyed, and there he was. The culprit with an empty box in hand. He rest it on the table, his frame shading Will from the light.

"Service was great today," he started casually, tapping his fingers against the counter rhythmically, a smug smirk present, "Computers ran smooth, the atmosphere was lively, and the staff," he continued, "very law-abiding. Really makes the place feel safe,"

"Are you done?" Will passed a flat stare, making sure to hide his comic under the counter from prying eyes,

Laughing seemed like second nature to the tall boy; it was jarring.

"Now, why don't you go ahead and give me back my CDs, boss-man? You've made your point. You're the boss here. Consider me scared straight."

Will furrowed his brows, folding his arms, "Not happening, it's stupid. And I'm not gonna return it. Its blatantly illegal. I'm sure you can live without them,"

For the first time, the biker's smile seemed to shift to something more territorial. He leaned closer, arms folded on the counter, close enough for Will to smell faint traces of smoke on his jacket, "Fine, keep it then,"

Down without a fight? What gives? Something was suspicious. Will's eyes narrowed, "What?"

"It means," the boy said, standing back up and lifting his weight into his full length once again, "I'll be back tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that. Every damn day until you decide to give me back what's mine."

"Huh?!" Will called out, but the boy already turned toward the door.

Yet he paused, glancing back over his shoulder, his grin shifting to something sly, "Oh right. Name's Mike by the way. Since we're gonna see each other more frequently... figured it was time for introductions. see you tomorrow boss-man,"

And with that, he pushed the door open, allowing the bell to ring overhead as he disappeared from view.

Before Will could think of a comeback, Mike was already outside, tugging on his sleek black helmet and forcing the visor to snap down with a clean click.

He revved the engine once, showy, unnecessary and then pulled away from the curb, a thick cloud of smoke enveloping the café-front.

The bike swerve effortlessly into traffic, weaving between cars before disappearing around the corner in a flash.

Yet, still glaring at the empty doorway, Will mumbled under his breath,

"What a jackass!"

--------

2141 Words

I rewrote this entire section twice

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV -

Will only wanted to read his comic in peace. Robin joined him, leaning over his computer as usual, noticing his look of annoyance.

"Woah! I only left for a few hours," she straightened her posture, "What crawled up your ass and died?"

The chair creaked under him as Will threw himself upon it. "That guy, Mike or whatever, just tired to smoke in here!" Will was getting angry at the mere thought, "and he thought the whole thing was hilarious! And so then he tried selling bootleg CDs!"

"Ooh! which ones?" She focused on the wrong part.

"It's not important! I confiscated them! I wish I could have thrown him out!"

"Will how many times have I told you?!" Robin faked control, "you can't afford to throw out men."

"This one had the ego of five men. Pissed me off."

"Wait? the motorcycle guy?"

"You saw him?"

She snorted. "Oh, I saw him. I was wondering what he was doing in that crowd. I also saw him flirting with like half the girls in here."

"The worst part was that his tacky lines worked! I feel violated just thinking of it," Will shuddered.

Robin shrugged, lips quirking, "Some people just have that sort of charisma and confidence... or maybe girls are just getting high off his motorcycle fumes."

"Ew."

"You complain, but Steve is like that. I bet he used most of the cheesy lines you heard on those girls... and you like him!"

Will sighed dramatically,

"Why do I know all the man whores?"

---- next day; 7:11 AM----

"Mom, I can't find my bag!" the small boy called from his bedroom, gathering his stationary for the day.

His mother, Joyce, poked her head through the doorframe, "Your new backpack's still in the wash, remember? You'll have to take your old one today!"

He froze mid search, "You mean the... old old one?"

"Yup!" she called back before disappearing, completely oblivious to the weight of her words.

Not the bag from middle school!

Will contemplated taking his items in a plastic bin bag, anything would be less embarrassing than that. The offending backpack sat as a artifact in the back of his closet, a reminder of the life he tried to bury.

It was simple, plain black with golden stitching, his name etched into the fabric by his doting mother. Luckily, that part remained hidden.

The worst crime against humanity were the zippers. A collection of dangling figurines; a tiny dragon, a purple wizard with a staff and a silver paladin with chipped paint.

All made by him.

Years ago, Will wore those little charms like a badge of honour. In middle school, those where his favourite things... until the wrong people noticed. The teasing started slow, snide comments about his interests, comments on his craftsmanship and downright aggression.

Those charms acted as a gate way. Bullies never needed an excuse to strike anyways. It morphed. His 'different' way of speaking, the way he dressed, the way he acted. They called him 'gay' before Will had even come to terms with it himself.

Now, at this new school, he'd worked hard to bury any remnants of his prior self from prying eyes. His clothes were neutral, his words careful and behaviour quiet. He did anything to appear normal.

Not outcast, not popular. Just normal.

But this bag, with its loud DIY accessories was the exact opposite of everything he'd been doing to keep himself safe.

No! He needed to take them off. He grabbed the first with his nails acting as claws. He tugged. It didn't budge. He tried harder, the metal chain straining against the zipper, as it started to pull on its stitching.

One more pull and the fabric would tear. The entire zipper would come clean off. This meant he had two options, destroy the backpack or walk the school grounds with miniature heroes and a dragon chiming which each step.

He tried the other, pulling on the dragon. Same result. What did he use to attach these? Industrial super glue? He cursed his past self. Clearly his ten-year-old self had been more committed than he remembered.

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips. He weighed his options. Old bag, or free hand all his books on a busy bus ride.

Will rubbed his face with both hands, "one day," he reassured himself as he piled his stationary inside, "it's just one day."

Somehow, that didn't feel very convincing...

---- 1:24 PM ----

"Can you shower after gym? You reek!" Dustin blocked his nose dramatically,

Lucas shoved him lightly, "I did shower you dumb fuck,"

"Do better!"

"Watch outside, yeah."

"So you're threatening me now?"

"Hell yeah, square up!" Lucas puffed his chest,

Students passed without a care, not casting a second glance to the dramatic display, "Will, hold me back! Hold me back!"

The brunette chuckled, merely reaching over. He pinched a singular lock of curly hair between his fingers, barely applying any pressure.

"You're lucky Will's holding me back!" Dustin continued his bravado,

Chatter surrounded. Will was trying his best to ignore the faint jingle of his old backpack. He took a breath between giggles, making an occasional comment.

But before he could even think, a girl ran past. Then another, and a third. An entire cluster of girls followed, darting across the halls, filling with high pitch laughter and coos. It was like they were chasing someone or something.

"What's going on?!" Lucas exclaimed, being thrown against the lockers by the avalanche.

Will stumbled, Dustin grabbed his arm, pulling him to the side to steady himself. "Maybe it's a rave?" Will joked.

But that was before Will saw him.

Mike. The same biker from the café, with that damn aggravating smirk. He leaned casually against the row of lockers like he owned them. He wasn't even following the dress code; his hoodie peeked out from under his blazer. He tossed some comment toward a passing girl, and she immediately dissolved into a shy laughter. Another girl spoke; he leaned down to talk to her. She swooned.

Will's stomach dropped.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me" he muttered quietly

By the time Will and his friends passed, Mike had already gotten numbers from multiple girls, saving them in his phone, grinning like he'd won a prize.

"Who's that?"

"Some new transfer," as a member on the basketball team. Lucas knew all the intimate conversations between teachers and students, having information other kids didn't know. "I heard some rumours,"

Will kept his eyes straight ahead. Trying not to draw attention to the fact that his stomach had just twisted into a knot.

The boys turned the corner to their next class, but Mikes voice and laughter still carried faintly down the hall behind them.

Dustin shook his head. "Man, that guy's been here like half a day and he's already got the girls."

"Well apparently," Lucas leaned in conspiracies, "I heard he got kicked out for fucking up some guys face in a fight,"

"Really?" Dustin brows shot up with an amused smile,

"And apparently ij his middle school, he lit something on fire in the gym 'just for fun'," Lucas added, "the team where talking about it,"

Will couldn't help it, he laughed, "he looks unstable."

"And also he allegedly got a girl pregnant and dipped." Lucas continued fuelling the rumours, "but I doubt that one is true,"

Duston burst with laughter.

"He's not bad looking," Lucas admitted, "but it's a shame he's a jerk to the guys. He only plays nice with girls,"

"He seems like a prick." Will mumbled

---- 2:09 PM ----

English.

A criminally underrated subject. And unfortunately, Mike was in his class. Mike was in almost all his classes. It was truly the motherlode of inconvenience. Will wasn't even sure Mike knew who he was considering the amount of people he talked to daily.

It was like a double-edged sword.

On one hand, if he did recognised Will and mentioned how he was treated at the cafe, then it could lead to problems. His influence was high and Will didn't have the arsenal for tens of girls to gang up on him, telling their friends until it snowballed into the entire grade.

On the other hand, if Mike forgot his face already, then that purely hurt Will internally; was he really so unremarkable?

Ugh!

He lowered his head, his hair reacting to gravity. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Mike slouched in his chair, his shirt untucked and hoodie masking his frame. One arm draped lazily on the back of the chair, the other, propped his head up.

He wasn't even pretending to pay attention!

Was he asleep?

Will mentally growled, how was this fair? Mike was smart enough to be in this private school, which only made this entire ordeal all the more brow raising. Will couldn't imagine this boy hunched over a book to study. He must have sweet-talked the teachers the way he sweet-talked everyone else.

Try as he might, Will listened to the teacher, making notes and consolidating his memory, but his thoughts couldn't be detached. Even when it came time to independent learning, Mike barely moved.

It made something in Will's chest ache... heartburn, maybe? This wasn't good for him. Mike looked like he stumbled into the room by accident and it flared his emotions.

Annoyance? Or perhaps it was jealousy? He wasn't sure.

The universe praised him for merely existing. Mike did the bare minimum, and he was rewarded for it.

To be in this school alone, Mike needed to be wealthy. Mike was smart enough. Attractive, obviously, considering how many people today alone stopped to gawk. People just gravitated toward him; girls hung on his every word and guys, even the ones who viewed him as competition wanted to be his friend.

Meanwhile, Will had to work his ass off just to keep a low profile and avoid trouble, with a part time job and studying in his breaks.

He didn't understand it. not even the fact why he was so hung up on Mike Wheeler that it made his brain hurt.

Will shook his head, taking deep breaths. He was just an attractive, rich, white guy, of course he gets away with everything.

Forget him. this wasn't worth it.

--------

1729 Words

I love Will having a mental battle with Mike who hasn't even noticed him

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV –

---- 4:32 PM ----

"I went to that new ramen restaurant yesterday," Dustin announced as the final bell of the day rang, "Well, it was more of an E-date, but the food was good."

"With 'Suzie'?" Lucas rolled his eyes sarcastically. The halls buzzed louder during the commute out the campus. The birds seemed to chirp louder, and the sky appeared brighter.

"You ate there alone... with a computer?" Will only questioned the most important parts

"Hey!" Dustin put a hand on his chest dramatically, "She is real! Why does no one believe me?!"

"You have no pictures together, no one's ever seen her, you lie about her height constantly, you have no proof." Lucas listed on his fingers,

"We make long distance work!" Dustin pouts, "We meet halfway in the holidays."

"Sure thing..." Will passed a 'non-convinced look'

"What do you take me for?"

"Is Suzie a man?" Lucas joked.

"Ew! Gross," Dustin chuckled, his nose wrinkled like the thought alone was repulsive.

Will's steps fell behind, his gaze dropping awkwardly. He didn't know what to do. The comment wasn't aimed at him, but it still stung. He knew Dustin didn't think twice before he spoke; it was just the way his friend talks sometimes that reminded him he needed to never expose his real self.

He wasn't like them... they couldn't know.

Forcing a smile, he nodded when Lucas looked his way, nudging his side jokingly.

In a flash, a red-haired figure ran out from behind them, jumping onto her boyfriend's back. Lucas screeched in surprise, his voice high pitched and glass shattering, unbefitting an athlete. He corrected himself, putting on a confident persona, "ahem, I mean, is that you babe?"

Max rolled her eyes, climbing off to match his pace, her bag lazily resting on one shoulder. "I'm so pissed!"

"Who did something now?"

"It's those degenerates! They can't do anything right! I swear I'm going to burn the school down," she swore vengeance for her enemies.

Lucas chuckled, taking her backpack and throwing it over his shoulder, "The freshman you tutor aren't that bad,"

"No, they're worst because they ask stupid questions and then get me on my third verbal warning,"

"Didn't you only start last month?" Dustin asked, tapping a finger to his lips.

"Words may have been said and a ruler may have been 'allegedly' used to smack some sense into a fourteen-year-old," she emphasised the words to take the least amount of responsibilty possible.

"You ma'am, are insane!" Dustin was the voice of reason,

"I didn't wanna tutor those dumb shits anyway. I just needed the credit and didn't wanna join a club,"

"Just try not to get kicked out of this again Max," Lucas reprimanded softly, "We're running out of extra-curriculars."

Running a hand through her hair, Max scoffed, "Fine. But I wanna hang out. Like right now."

"Like a date?"

"Don't be hasty, all four of us."

Dustin's eyes lit up. "Oh! We could go to that new sushi place, and I can call Suzie on FaceTime while we're there. Finally prove to you non-believers that she's real."

Lucas smirked, "if he's real."

"Stop misgendering my girlfriend!" Dustin fumed, half-frustrated.

Then, they all turned to Will expectedly,

Will, suddenly remembering he needed to speak, forced a little smile, "Oh shoot. Sorry... I've got stuff planned for tonight."

"What stuff?" Dustin pressed, "But you get to meet my girlfriend."

"I... I know! And I'm sorry! It's just super important stuff that I really can't miss."

Work. That was the super important thing.

Will hated how cryptic it sounded, the truth was his shift at the café started in just over an hour and missing it wasn't an option, not when the pay check was what allowed him to buy the expensive school supplies for each class. The supplies rack up quickly.

Yet, his friends didn't know that. They couldn't know he couldn't just casually spend his afternoons hanging out; they all had wealthy families who could cover the things Will had to work for. It was a burden to ask his single mother to help.

Lucas sighed, "Man, you never come out with us!"

"Sorry dude... next time? I promise!" Will kept the tone light, he really did wish he could go with them though.

It also didn't help that they had such expensive taste. Twenty dollars for a simple drink, twenty-five for a bagel. He shuddered at what the price of the sushi would have been.

"Fine, fine!" Dustin threw an arm over his shorter friend, "But next time, we kidnap you."

Will chuckled with an eyeroll, "fair enough."

Before the conversation could continue, Max pointed ahead. "Hey, isn't that El?"

"Oh yeah! She was blabbering on about some art thing, I think," Will mentioned. Pretending as though he wasn't interested; boys aren't supposed to enjoy art unless it was drawing graphic images into the hardwood desk.

Internally, his stomach did a little flip. He loved art, painting, sketching and anything creative. Yet, it wasn't something he advertised. Not here. It wasn't something 'real men' should like. This was why he pretended to be into sports or cars or superheroes or whatever boys were interested in that week.

Lucas cut him out his thoughts. "Oh right, it's an art competition! This is perfect."

Will frowned. "Perfect...? for what?"

"For you, obviously," Dustin said, elbowing him. "She clearly likes you."

"She does not," Will muttered, already feeling the heat creep into his face.

Before he could react, Lucas and Dustin each took an arm and gave him a push in El's direction. "Go ask her out!" they both chuckled.

Will stumbled forward, clutching the straps of his bag, his charms clicking behind him. Plastering on what he hoped was a neutral expression, he stepped toward her; being shoved in front of a girl he didn't romantically like to 'flirt', was not what he needed today.

Bright eyes lit up upon his arrival, "Hi Will!" El smiled, handing over a flyer, her tone calm but warm, "It's an art competition open to anyone, paintings, sketches, sculptures, digital art, whatever you want. Submit your work by the end of the month for the festival and everyone votes on the winner."

Will shifted weight from one foot to the other, the edges of the paper already softening under his thumb. In the corner of his vision, he could see Lucas and Dustin giggling like middle-schoolers, Max nearby shook her head at the display.

Fantastic! Considering the bright smile on El's face, they were never going to let this go.

"Sounds... cool. I mean, I'm not really into art though... but I suppose it could be fun," he lied. His awkward smile was crooked, especially when his internal thoughts begged him to join.

El plastered a pout, "Really? I think you'd do very well. I've seen some of your diagram drawings in class!"

"You saw those?" Will cursed himself internally, an embarrassed blush crossing his features.

"I didn't mean to." She giggled, "They just seemed so nice considering you made them for your notebook."

"Those were just... because I wanted my notes to be neat," Will explained,

"Well, think about it," she winked, "The prize money is good too. I would join but I'm one of the organisers."

That wink made Lucas and Dustin go feral. Silently cheering him on; of course they were enjoying this. If only they could hear Will's internal thoughts. Will shifted the conversation; he just wanted it to end, "Oh interesting..." he muttered, only half-listening until his eyes landed on the first-place prize.

Woah!

That was a lot. More than enough to cover the fees for the next semesters supplies. In a wealthy private school like this, that amount was mere couch cushion change... but to him, it was huge.

Huger than huge.

Carefully, he folded the flyer, slipping the paper into his bag so nobody else would see the peak of interest in his eyes, "I'll think about it," he said, continuing to play it off like it was no big deal, fiddling with his zipper.

Will was halfway through closing his zipper when the loud purr of a motorcycle entered his earshot and grew closer, causing the winds to blow his hair to one side. He didn't even need to look to know who it was... but why was the sound coming right at him?

Fight or flight? Will froze.

The bike swerved at the last second, tires straining against asphalt as the bike tilt over fourty-five degrees. Will stumbled, his heart thudding in his chest; the sound thumped in his ears, loud and unyielding.

The rider killed the engine and kicked the stand down. He swung off the bike, pulling his helmet off in a singular fluid motion. He shook his head, the hair falling perfectly to frame his face.

Mike Wheeler.

Of course it was him. Will's suspicions were correct.

"Woah... you almost became roadkill." Mike chuckled to himself, so disarmingly casual as though he didn't almost turn Will into a flattened pancake. Not even an apology!

"Mike!" El, who was usually level-headed spoke in a harsh tone, "What the hell were you thinking? Use your eyes!"

"Damn! Sorry El," he pout at the reprimand, like a child being scolded by their mother. Then finally, Mike turned to Will like he was a mere afterthought, "Sorry man,"

Mike's gaze lingered, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, "Wait... are you-?"

Panic clawed under Will's skin. The last thing he needed was for Mike to connect the dots and start spreading the story that he was a crazed authoritarian. Besides, working whilst in this private school wasn't exactly allowed.

The brunette ducked his head, turning his face away, half-covering with his hand. "Nope! I don't even know you! Gotta go!" He turned on his heel, awkwardly running before Mike could even get another word out.

"What was that all about?" El questioned at the figure getting further.

"He must have diarrhoea or something," The tall boy shrugged.

"don't be so crude," El reprimanded.

Will heard their conversation grow fainter as he practically ran off, his bag still half-zipped. The way he spoke to El was... different. No flashy pickup lines, no lazy smirks or exaggerated gestures of affection. Just a normal tone, like he actually heard and acted on what she said.

Just like a normal person! The realisation bothered Will even more for reasons he couldn't explain; perhaps it was because Mike was choosing when to act like a clown.

Will rushed to his friends who watched that entire interaction with collective intrigue and confusion. Without slowing, Will threw both arms over his friends' shoulders, herding them forward like a sheepdog and his flock.

"What's the rush?" Dustin protested, almost tripping on his own feet.

"What did Mike say? Why're we leaving so quickly?!" Lucas added, trying to keep the pace.

"Woah!" Max complained, her eyes wide in surprise but didn't bother to press the issue any further. She was sure he had some reason to do this.

"Nothing happened!" Will said quick, "I just wanted to beat traffic."

Although Will kept up his steps, and made his flock move until they were pass the campus gates, he was not ready to explain that Mike had not only noticed him but almost ran him over in front of half the school.

In his haste, Will didn't even realised his bag was one figurine lighter.

MIKE POV –

The ravenette casually held his bike helmet under one hand as he kicked a stray pebble, watching El handing out flyers to whoever passed.

"I'm still not over you not telling me you'd be back!" she spoke between flyer handouts, a pout crossing her features,

Mike shrugged, placing his helmet on his bike. He rested his arms behind his head, his hoodie and shirt rising slightly just to show a sliver of his stomach. He yawned and stretched. "I wanted to. Really. But your number got changed or something,"

El titled her head, frowning slightly, "Oh right, I forgot it changed after last time." Her answer vague.

"And I didn't wanna call your house phone because I know how your dad is like sometimes..." he whispered the last part

"Good call." her expression turned sullen,

Mike noticed, immediately changing the subject, "So art competition, huh?" he stole a flyer, "what's the deal with this?"

El blinked in surprise, as she started to explain, still a little surprised by how genuinely interested he seemed, for she assumed he was uninterested in art. Mike actually listened, nodded and asked questions.

"Goddamn!" his eyes widened as he read the prize money, "three hundred dollars for first place?" he muttered with a low whistle, "not bad."

"Still thinking about money, huh? What scheme are you running this time?" she giggled, and considering the cheeky grin he had plastered on his lips, she was right.

With a grin, he opened the seat of his bike, showing the contents of a tiny box inside, a stack of CD cases. Each with a high-enough resolution of covers printed on them. Titles jumped out at her, written in bold fonts, almost looking official.

"I had more, but they got... lost."

El inspected the box, "still running scams, I see?"

"It's not a scam if you get what you ordered!" he lifted one case in front of her eyes; a movie franchise she loved when they were younger, "See! Genuine CD,"

"Mike," she hissed with crossed arms, "That's illegal,"

He just shrugged with a little pout, taking the case and sliding it discreetly into her folded arms. "Here. On the house. Consider it... a friendly gift. Or, y'know, a bribe if you're planning on ratting me out."

El just stared at him, half-annoyed, half-exasperated, exactly the way she used to when they were kids, and he'd lie at restaurants that it was his birthday to get free cake.

"You haven't changed at all," she muttered.

"I'm glad some things don't change,"

Sighs, one of comfort and annoyance tugged her lips, "you're gonna get expelled,"

Mike leaned close, "maybe. Or maybe I'll get rich. Wanna bet which happens first?"

"you're already rich," she deadpanned.

"Well... richer."

Another groan left El, a hand on her forehead as she quickly slipped the CD case into her bag; she was realistic, not stupid.

As Mike chuckled, positioning the strap of his bag across his torso, he noticed something on the concrete. A little hint of purple amongst the monochromatic greys and browns. His attention fixed.

He bent down, picking it up, turning it over in his fingers. It was small and detailed, yet it was clear to be handmade, clearly worn down by age. Half a wizard, wearing a purple robe with silver stars; the staff seemingly glowing in the sun, while its pointed hat appeared lost, cut off by hair,

Was this some sort of keychain?

"Huh?" Mike's brows furrowed,

"What is it?" El tilted her head,

"Some sorta charm I think," Mike held it toward the light, analysing its frame and craftsmanship. "Looks nerdy,"

"it might be Will's."

"Will?"

"The boy I was talking to."

"Oh, right, the one who ran off?" he reaffirmed.

"Yep!" El leaned in for a better look, "Anyways, give it to me and I'll give it to him..."

Mike gave a careless shrug, though his gaze lingered on the little wizard longer than he meant it to. He winked, his usual cocky grin appearing on his lips,

"No. I'll give it to him myself... maybe the owner will give me a reward,"

--------

2485 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV –

---- 8:44 PM ----

The café was quieter that evening, well as quiet as it could be when someone like Steve was entertaining the female patrons, sometimes even Will watched just to pass the time. He flirted, chuckled and joked with everyone, somehow giving equal attention.

Sitting behind his usual counter, all he could hear was the clacking of computers and B.O-infested 'gamer bros' on one side, while the giggles of girls flirting with Steve blared on the other.

After a school day, Will just wanted to put his feet up, however, there was no rest for a scholarship student.

With a groan, he bent down, reaching to grab the notebook from his bag. He froze. When his finger brushed the hardened zip, he noticed something wrong. The little dragon and paladin charms hung proudly on the zipper like always, yet something was missing. The wizard, his favourite, was broken.

A sinking feeling entered his chest as he yanked the bag into his lap. He ran his hand over every crevice, even tempted to spill the contents onto the table just to hear its familiar clay thud.

Will looked around his area, scanning the floors, the desks and the clutter in his cupboards. it was nowhere! Did he drop it? In a slightly defeated tone, he sighed, leaning back in his chair, throwing his science notebook on the desktop.

Sadness filled the air by the notion of his missing wizard charm; it was like a part of his childhood went missing. Even if it caused grief by attracting bullies, he would do anything to get it back.

The bell of the front door jingled, cutting him out his thoughts. Will looked up, seeing a noticeable frame rattling through, an infectious chuckle following his every step.

It was undeniably Mike Wheeler.

"Sorry I'm late," he announced as though Will was waiting just for him.

"How unfortunate..." sarcasm laced his tongue like venom.

"Aww!" Mike continued his fake pout, "Don't be like that bossman."

"Are you just here to loiter?" Will rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, averting his eyes back to his work, "I'm not giving you your CDs back! I'm not aiding or abetting."

"You're no fun," Mike pouted, resting his chin on his palms.

Will paused, his pencil stopping mid stroke, "That's not my name." he muttered, dragging his notebook further into the light.

"Then what is your name? You not telling me makes me very sad." Mike pulled down the corner of his lips with two fingers, sliding closer, invading every inch of Will's personal space,

"We're not on a first name basis." Unbothered, Will continued scribbling a formula down.

"But you know my name,"

"Unwillingly,"

Silence enveloped the pair, Mike tapping rhythmically against the counter while leaning over, peaking at Will's notebook. He audibly sighed, trying to get a reaction out of the small boy, "What ya doing?" he asked, dragging out the words.

Will didn't bother looking up, "Work,"

"For school? Which school do you go to?"

"Uh..." Will started, keeping his tone flat, "Hawkins high... the um, the public school." That was false, but he didn't want Mike to know they go to the same private school.

"And? What else? What do you do for fun? Do you play sports? Got a girlfriend?"

More pointless questions followed. Will shook his head; ask stupid questions, get stupid answers, "Yeah, I'm on the basketball and football teams, and have like four girlfriends,"

Mike nodded, carrying a mocking look of impressiveness, though it was clear he didn't believe a single word, "Well that explains the arms," He smirked, pinching Will's bicep with a brief chuckle to himself.

Will flushed, blood rushing to his cheeks, "Don't touch me."

"Relax man. Your arms aren't that bad." Mike tilted his head before reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, announcing, "Wanna see something?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

Will's stomach sank, not loving the tone; was this going to be gross? He pondered what Mike would have brought to 'show', a dirty magazine? A stupid prank, or perhaps another kind of scam he was just taunting Will to confiscate.

Tightening his grip on his pen, Will shut down the conversation, "Whatever you're gonna pull out, I want no part of it."

Mike chuckled, shaking his head slowly, "calm down man. I'm not out here tryin' to corrupt such a 'pure soul' like you." Ruffling Will's hair teasingly,

An embarrassed growl couldn't help but escape Will's lips, he hated being so embarrassed just because of a head pat from an attractive guy.

The moment was short-lived as before his complexion could return to normal, Mike pulled out the item, clicking it against the counter with a quiet thud.

Will's eyes snapped open.

It was the wizard figurine.

His wizard figurine. The tiny hat was missing, and the paint was chipped. It was undeniably his, the one he lost...

"Funny thing," Mike said casually, toying with the figurine, twirling it around on the tabletop. "Found this on the ground today. Some kid must've dropped it, didn't see his face," his eyes flicked up, joining Will's eyes, "he looked a bit like you,"

"Is that so?" Will scratched the back of his neck nervously, forcing his eyes back down to his work.

Mike leaned closer, "Was kinda hoping to return it. I wonder why he didn't show his face? Maybe he was embarrassed... or maybe he was ugly... he looked the type."

Offensive.

'Ugly'. Will hated that word, it brought back flashes of his middle school life, comments on every little thing he did, and obviously, those included appearance. He wished to steal the wizard away, but that meant admission.

Mike watched him with a lazy smirk, "What do you think Will?"

"Maybe they just didn't want to look at your fac-" he paused, pen poised mid scribble. His eyes met the ravenette, "what did you just call me?"

"That is your name, right? Will?" he said it softer this time, savouring his victory at the reaction, "Knew it was you... and that means this-" he held the figurine up, "-is yours."

"I've never seen that 'thing' before." Will continued his façade, "and besides 'Will' is a very common name."

Mike didn't back down, far from it. "Yeah. But the figurine, doesn't it match the same hat dangling on the back off your bag?" mischief evident in his tone as he pointed.

Will's colour drained, turning pale. He shifted in his seat, flipping the bag over. For the first time he was lost for words.

The figurine shone in the light as Mike played, "and besides it kinda looks like you."

"Stop making stuff up!"

"It's obvious though. The same choppy hair. The annoyed expression and moles just like yours." He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "it's adorable to think of you modelling this to look like you."

Will's ears burned red hot, spreading across his entire form, "I didn't!" he blurted way too quickly, "I didn't make it! it's not mine! Leave me alone,"

Seeing how riled up he was, Mike only grinned, fuelling the fire, "You're a bad liar... but you are creative, I'll give you that!"

"Why do you even care?"

Mike passed a shrug, his brows raised, "Don't mistake this for care. I just find it fun when you lie."

Hazel eyes glared at the ravenette, sharp and intense. Will didn't move all the way to a new school to be bullied once more. He refused to deal with this. Adrenaline filled his every pore, eyes dilating like a hunter on the attack.

He snapped his pen down with a sharp thud. "Fine. So, I lied about my school. But that's not a crime,"

A cruel smirk grew on Mike's face, like he'd been waiting for this moment since he walked in. He leaned lazily across the counters, elbows stretched, voice low and dipping, "No, you're right. It's not a crime." he paused just long enough so Will could breathe, before continuing, "although having a job while attending a private school like ours? That's against the rules."

Will froze, his tongue lost for words, his pulse thumping.

Mike studied him; it was like catching a mouse in the trap. "What would the school think? One of their own working at a dingy internet café... that would bring down the school's reputation."

Dingy? That did it.

Will didn't care if he was insulted by Mike, but insulting his friends' café and all cards were off the table. He took a deep breath, finding his voice before speaking,

"Well, I'd say distributing bootleg CDs is against the school rules too. Not to mention illegal."

That caught Mike. For the first time that night, his smirk faltered into a half-grin. He leaned back from the counter, running a hand through his messy hair, "But you have all my CDs, so wouldn't that be your fault?"

"I bet you have some in your bike. Am I right?"

"Touche." His laugh seemed genuine, almost like he was impressed, rather than enraged.

"Guess you're not just a wizard, huh? You're sharp." Mike pointed at him as though surrendering and declaring Will the victor. "And I like smart. It makes things much more interesting." his attention then turning to the figurine, "Don't you think so little Will?"

"Alright that's enough for one day." Will waved a dismissive hand, "why don't you go crawl back to the hole you came out of, since you clearly don't have a real job to get to."

Straight for the jugular. Will's words were harsh yet assertive. For a second, Mike seemed to be taken aback, but laughed. Something different from usual. This was genuine, real and more believable, as though it was the first time he had laughed in years.

"Sure thing. I'll grant your wish this time." To his surprise, Mike actually seemed to listen, turning on his heels with a little wink, "I'm keeping Little Will with me though."

"Just leave."

"Damn, so mean." he faked a pained expression, "See you around, Big Will."

Will exhaled through his nose, releasing his clenched jaw. He hated how much time he wasted with that stuck-up self-righteous prick. And he feared this wasn't the last of Mike.

---- ----

Over the next week, it was becoming a pattern, almost ritualistic.

Every afternoon, just as Will would clock in for his shift, Mike would follow close behind, he'd stroll in as though he owned the place, draping his jacket over the counter with a grin on his cocky face.

His face was so very punchable.

And every day, Will became better at ignoring. He could give the CDs back, but what point would that prove? That he was some sort of pushover. That's exactly the first step on how Mike would walk over him.

Mike didn't even bother ordering coffee, or renting a computer half the time, he'd just lean on the counter, sometimes pulling up a chair, or dramatically sigh over how bored he was, hoping to catch Will's eye.

Somehow being ignored made Mike more clingy, more annoying and more determined to get his precious CDs back.

Will didn't understand it at all. Mike could just upload the files onto new discs. CDs were cheap, and he was sure it didn't take a genius to download them. Instead, Mike would whine and complain like a little toddler not getting the toy they wanted.

Sometimes he'd mix it up. On Thursday, he pulled a yo-yo out his pocket an spent twenty minutes failing horribly at tricks while maintaining eye contact with Will who barely acknowledged. Although, the girls in the café flocked toward him, finding his failures adorable.

On Saturday, Mike stayed for Will's entire shift, from the afternoon till the store closed. Mike was even there whilst he cleaned up. Robin noticed. Steve noticed. Will was sure half the cafe noticed. All Will could do was be constantly annoyed and tug on his hair in stress.

The same happened on Sunday. Mike would wonder around, pulling up a chair and sitting annoyingly close to Will, in the way of patrons who actually wished to use their services. He was becoming a hazard.

He played with Will's wizard figurine, sprouting a story out loud, full of nonsensical plots and characters, all while Will was forced to hear.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Will would ask every day with variations of that question.

Yet Mike never left. He lounged around like it was his second home.

This was Will's new life...

It couldn't possibly get worse, right?

--------

2086 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV –

---- Monday 1:13 PM ----

Peace.

Will had almost forgotten what that was.

After the previous hellish week of the 'Mike Wheeler Show', Will had attained his calm. Will had enough of the cafeteria noise, the constant chatter and disorienting sound of metal knives and forks.

This was a rare occasion. Lucas had basketball, Dustin was in the drama club and Max was tutoring the freshman she wished to throttle every half-hour. Will was truly alone.

He didn't hate it.

He climbed four flights of stairs to the roof, off limits, but the broken lock meant anyone who wished could stay up here as long as they didn't get caught. He chose a spot in the back where no teacher ventured.

With headphones plugged into his ears, he unzipped his bag, retrieving his lunch, unwrapping the simple sandwich he packed despite his hectic schedule. The view stretched the school grounds, seeing the muffled chaos below.

For once, Will could breathe. No Dustin trying to prove Suzie's existence, no Lucas's teasing or Max's clever commentary. Most importantly, he didn't have Mike Wheeler causing a permanent stain in his ears.

"Hey, what the fuck are you doing with my girlfriend?" a muffled voice was heard over the lyrics blasting in his ears.

Half his sandwich was finished in mere minutes, Will turned up the volume, tuning out the external sounds. At first, he thought it was background noise from the courtyard, like playfighting, or guys messing around.

Yet, these words carried a harsh edge, sharp and quick, bleeding into the lyrics of his music until he couldn't ignore it anymore.

"What are you talking about?" Another voice competed with an unbothered chuckle. "Is that why you dragged me here?"

He tugged on one earbud, then the other, frowning as he heard it clearer. It was definitely an argument, heated and nearby.

Curiosity got the better of him. Will tucked his sandwich away, taking a small sip of water. He glanced around the rooftop, ensuing he was alone before advancing closer, hearing the argument become louder.

"Don't act stupid Wheeler,"

Wheeler? As in the Mike Wheeler who had been terrorising him for the past week. Of course he was here, why wouldn't he be?

Will followed, tracing the wall with his hand till he reached the corner, able to overhear the commotion while still remaining hidden, a respectable distance away.

Mike was standing there, leaning casually against the railing, puffing a cigarette every few seconds, a faint smirk on his face, taking amusement in this entire situation. Opposite him stood a broad-shouldered senior, waving his arms around in anger.

"You know exactly what you're doing! Don't you find it strange that exactly one week after you come here my girlfriend breaks up with me?"

Will clutched the corner, it wasn't a surprise Mike was being accused of stealing someone's girlfriend.

"Relax man, I'm not after anyone's girlfriend, let alone yours." Mike's low chuckle had just the right amount of mockery to boil anyone's blood, cigarette hanging between his fingers.

The senior clenched his fist, "This isn't a fucking joke. You think you can come in this school, flirt with whoever you want, and no one's gonna call you out?"

"I didn't flirt with anyone. It's not my fault I'm irresistible. Maybe your ex knows how to appreciate a good sense of humour... more than what she's getting with you." Mike spat a snide comment.

"Watch your mouth."

"Ugh. This conversation is so boring." Mike complained, casually turning away like he didn't want to be there, though technically, he didn't. "Or maybe your 'ex-girlfriend' is just tired of looking at ya," he took a puff of his cigarette, "I mean, ugly is harder to fix then a shitty personality."

The seniors nostrils flared, anger filling his every pore. His fist shot out, connecting with Mike's torso, causing him to double down, mostly in shock rather than pain, before grabbing the edge of his collar to drag him back up.

Will flinched as though he could feel the connection vibrating off the walls. The attack didn't seem to bother him; in fact, Mike seemed more inconvenienced by the punch.

"Let go," Mike's shook his head in annoyance, if he wanted he could have easily gotten out of this.

With a little shove, the senior pushed him back. Mike dusted his clothes, standing back tall, his grin plastered on his face once more.

Enraged by the sight, the senior pulled his punch, his knuckles tightening. The attack came fast, cutting through the air, aimed directly at the ravenette's face. But Mike was quicker, ducking out the way so the fist connected only with the afternoon air.

"Don't touch the moneymaker, you jerk." Mike returned to his full length, fixing his hair as though this was one major time-waste.

The upperclassman seethed, winding up for another swing. Will who still watching, clutched his corner of the wall, his breath catching,

"You ducked? Coward." The senior growled, obviously annoyed, missing another punch, "Did you really break that guy's nose?"

"Don't talk about me." Mike grit.

"So the rumours are true..." he paused for a mere second with a mocking pout, "what's the matter, don't like me talking about your past?" he continued, his voice sharp upon seeing he cut a cord, "Which are you more embarrassed by?" he prodded, "the knocked-up girl? The fight? Or maybe your little tendencies with fire-"

He was unable to finish.

Mike's arm shot out, bunching the collar of the senior's uniform and throwing him against the railings so violently that his smirk ceased. The sound of fabric stretching and tearing filled the empty sound of the rooftop.

The once playful expression on Mike's face was gone. His grin disappeared. His eyes that usually held amusement and mischief burned with a raging inferno. He leaned in,

"Don't" Mike said, voice low and controlled, lacing with dangerous energy, "don't ever fucking talk about me again... do you understand?"

The senior tried shoving him away, but it was evident to both that he was too strong. Gone was the lazy, playful Mike Wheeler, and here was the Mike in the rumours. His knuckles went white around his collar, pulling so hard the seams may burst from the pure force alone.

Still peeking from behind the wall, Will froze in shock, muffling his quiet yelp with a hand over his mouth. He'd never seen Mike like this. Not smirking, not joking, not the centre of attention, rather like he could snap the other boy apart if pushed too far.

Will was terrified, and slightly enticed. That was something he may need to deal with later.

Though, he didn't stick around. The second Mike pushed that unruly man away, muttering something about staying out his sight, Will booked it. He ran from the scene of the crime so fast he almost tripped over his own feet. His heart pounded in his chest.

The roof no longer felt safe and didn't even realise when his legs carried him down a flight of stairs. Students casually roamed around with friends while he stumbled, breathing heavy and hands clammy.

Stamina was not his strong suit.

Slipping back toward his classroom, Will slid into his desk and pulled out his textbook, fanning himself with the pages. He watched others around him in idle conversation.

His sandwich remailed half eaten in its wrapper, and despite his growling stomach, he had no appetite.

When he checked the clock, the minute hand mocked him. twenty minutes left of lunch. That meant twenty long minutes of his brain replaying the scene he was never meant to see. He wished to distract himself, but doing work during lunch would drag attention, and not the positive kind.

Instead, he reached for his phone, clicking the headphones in and listening to some music; whatever was recently playing. He just needed a distraction, any sort.

Will's finger tapped against his phone case, memories of the encounter flooding his mind, sharper now consolidated. The way Mike's face changed, the sudden drop in voice; it wasn't random.

Whenever Will insulted, mocked, or belittled Mike, the ravenette would merely laugh, pout or dramatically throw himself on Will's workstation. But this, what he just saw, this was different, as though the senior's words snipped the wrong wire.

It was the rumours. It had to be something regarding those.

Will leaned back in his chair, his heart thudding, he heard the rumours, especially those giggled between Lucas and Dustin who appeared to have nothing else to do. They were wild rumours accusing Mike of burning down entire buildings to fighting a teacher. Yet, he always assumed these were ridiculous, over-exaggerated stories spun by teenagers to make school more interesting.

But what he saw? That wasn't an exaggeration. Will almost worried Mike would have thrown the upperclassmen off the roof in his rage; would that have made Will an accessory to murder?

Did Mike really burn down something? Did he really break someone's nose? And did he really get a girl pregnant?

The thought alone made Will queasy, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He tried to picture it; the boy who had been terrorising him this week with silly stories, questions and yo-yos, was really capable of then going out and burning down a building.

It just didn't fit... or maybe it did, and that's why the thought was terrifying.

---- 4:32 PM ----

The final bell rang.

A tsunami of students collected their bags, throwing on their jackets before leaving the class. Will was usually slower than most. He'd rather take his time then rush and forget something by making hasty decisions.

He slipped his books into his bag and headed for the hall, his shoulders still heavy with what happened at lunch, but now, a little less because Mike thankfully wasn't in this class.

He roamed the halls alone until a soft nudge startled him out of it. He glanced, finding El walking with him, her expression calm but curious, like she was just buzzing to spill something bubbling inside her.

"Hey El," he smiled soft.

Pouty lips smiled back, her eyes creasing, "Soo... have you thought about joining the art competition? It'll look good on a college application."

He totally blanked about that. He had been so busy dealing with Mike that he had no time to think of anything else. His productivity at work had even lowered, yet Robin found it nice Will had a 'friend', no matter how many times he tried to explain otherwise.

And worst of all? Will hadn't been able to read his comic this entire week. It just lay dormant in a box in his right work desk drawer.

He snapped back into conversation, "No... I've been swamped, sorry." That was the short version of events, "I don't think it's for me, you know?"

"Aww! That's too bad," she pouted, genuinely saddened. "I think you would have done great!"

Will smiled at her. He didn't understand how she didn't have more friends. El was always surrounded by others, yet she never seemed to be integrated within a group. She was a floater, jumping from group to group with a little smile, getting along with everyone, yet never staying long enough for her to be permanent.

But that seemed to be El's design, and everyone understood. She was confident, sweet, beautiful, smart and popular, someone everyone wished to be. She was class president and still had time to go to tutoring school after hours.

She was truly perfect. Will wished he could be her. He wondered what it was like to be Elanor Brenner.

"Uhh... Thanks El?"

"I got a sneak peek at some of the entries."

"Yeah?" his voice returned, awaiting a continuation.

"The art club really went all out this year! Paintings, sculptures even abstract figures." El nodded, her expression lightening as she talked, "Seriously, they look top tier professional... but keep it hush hush, okay?"

"...okay?" Will replied a little unsure; he wasn't planning on telling anyone anyways.

"I'm not really supposed to be telling you this!" She added, "it might discourage some of the 'non-art club' students to drop out! And that's not what we want!"

Now it made sense, he zipped his lips, "Don't worry, I won't tell a soul,"

"Awesome!" she giggled before changing the subject, "I've got to go now! I need to get these folders down to the faculty office before I go for my tutoring! See you tomorrow!"

El ran off, her energy infectious. Will watched as she turned the corner, disappearing from view. He wasn't sure what the point of that conversation was, or why El told him specifically, but he didn't care. It took his mind off the other things filling his head.

Things were normal for a second, as people passed without a care in the world.

Until an arm draped over his shoulder.

Nearly jumping out his skin when the arm found its place, Will stumbled, the arm dragged him off balance, messing with his rhythm. He didn't think, just reacted like he always did.

With a sharp tug, he shot his elbow out, piercing his bone into the side of his attacker, like he'd done a million times with Lucas and Dustin who loved catching him off-guard.

"Oof!" the offending voice came, low yet amused.

Will turned his head, ready to smack whichever of his friends for scaring him, but the words dried in his throat the moment he saw the face of the perpetrator.

Mike.

"Damn Wizard Boy." He bent over dramatically, one hand pressed on his stomach, shifting all his weight onto Will who could barely keep him up. "I didn't know you had such pointy elbows."

Frozen, his mouth agape while blood drained from his cheeks. Will gasped, stammering, "Sorry! I thought you were-"

"Relax man... you look like you've seen a ghost." Mike cut him off with a lazy wave, still smirking, "I'm not gonna punch you back... unless you like that kind of thing."

"I don't!" Will blushed,

"Vanilla." He joked, before continuing, "I was just wandering if you wanted a ride to the internet café. Since, you know..." he leaned in, voice dipping teasingly, "We're both heading there,"

Will's mouth went dry; no, he couldn't do that! He saw what happened to the senior who punched Mike; what would Mike do to him? And that wasn't even to mention Will stole from him!

What if this was all some sort of long con? Mike pretended to be unsuspecting to get Will to put his guard down and meet with him alone. And when Will least expected it, Mike would pounce, taking his revenge for stealing his precious CDs.

And this invitation would just be them alone.

Mike was like a blood sucking vampire, always wanting more and more until his amusement was over. Will shuddered, when he looked to his left, he didn't see Mike, he saw a vicious monster with sharp fangs and a dark cloak.

In his mind, he imagined Mike getting close to his ear, whispering soft, "For every CD you stole from me, I think it's only fair if I break the same number of bones in your body."

Will's breathing quickened. Panic filled his every pore, bubbling out his throat.

Without warning, Will screamed like in a horror movie, shoving Mike's arm off his shoulders and bolted. Running further and further down the hall, his bag bounced behind him and his shoes slapping against the tiled floors.

"...what the fuck?" Mike stood there. Completely off guard, other students turned to stare, some confused, while others laughed, moving out of Will's way.

Yet Will continued running. He didn't get far, but he was damn fast.

...

Will needed to return those CDs as soon as possible.

--------

2568 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV -

---- 7:04 PM ----

He wasn't usually this frantic when he came to work, but this was for special reason; Will was shaken to the core and it wasn't even his fault. He wanted Mike out his life, and this was how, giving the CDs back.

Will immediately threw his bag on the ground, not bothering to see where it landed. Clocking in didn't even occur in his mind as he knelt, unlocking and sliding open the drawers beneath the counter, expecting to see the ugly cardboard box staring back at him.

Where was it?

The drawers were empty.

His breath hitched. He pulled open other drawers, slamming the door closed behind each look. He made a mess, throwing out spare napkins, receipt paper and accumulated lost property.

Nothing.

The only similar box here had all his gay comics inside it, and of course, he couldn't give those to Mike.

"No! No! No!" Will whispered under his breath. Panic arising in his chest, his heart thudding. If he lost this box with bootleg CDs, Mike was going to beat him to a pulp.

"You lost my CDs? Maybe I should show you what happens to people who cross me."

"Maybe you and this building should be burnt down as punishment."

His imagination ran wild.

"NO!" Will screamed out loud,

Heads turned, a couple of girls at a nearby computer jumped, yet found the ordeal too hilarious. Will slapped both hands over his mouth, eyes wide, mortified he said that out loud.

And to make it worse, a shadow loomed over him. When Will lifted his head, Mike's eyes looked down at him from over the counter, his hair obeying gravity, falling in his face.

"You're a wizard, Will," Mike grinned, amusement written on his face, "Kicking me out the second I step inside? Impressive. Gotta say, I'm honoured."

Will's heart was raising, his face hot with embarrassment, his hair a mess as he pat it down, lifting to sit on his chair like nothing happened. "I was looking for something." He said calm.

"I can see that..." Mike side-eyed the mess on the ground, "and here I thought you knew me by the way I opened the door."

Like it was second nature, Mike plopped himself down on the counter, tapping his fingers on the desk lazily beside him. His grin was as easy as ever, his tone casual like Will hadn't just shrieked like a banshee.

"You're so jumpy today." Mike said, resting his chin on his palm. "Like jumpier than usual. Did you see something you weren't supposed to?"

"Huh?!" Will nearly fell to the ground. His pulse spiking that it reverberated through his form; he forced a laugh, too loud, too unnatural... worst of all, he never laughed at Mike's jokes. "I haven't seen anything."

Sucking his teeth, Mike raised a brow, leaning closer on the counter, "Really? So, you're totally fine?" not convinced for a second.

The nod followed almost instinctively. Will was in no position to disagree. He elbowed, stole and lost from an unstable man. His throat burned and ears blushed.

Mike let the quiet stretch between them before his voice lowered, directly locking eyes with the brunette; his tone sharper, "Funny thing, though. After you ran away from me while screaming, people think I did something to hurt you... word gets around fast." He warned.

Will gulped.

"I was thinking maybe I should get rid of the problem." Mike's tone stayed even, but there was an underlying threat.

The problem? But Will was his problem! With a hard swallow, Will forced himself to meet Mike's stare, "I wasn't. I mean... it's not like that... not really."

Silence.

One beat. Then two.

The sudden laughter.

Mike broke out into laughter, tipping his head back as though this was the greatest joke he told all week, "Relax man." He said between chuckles, "it's kinda fun scaring the hell outta you. If I knew it was this fun I would have done it more often."

Will's usual annoyance flared, masking his fear, "You're incorrigible."

"Whatever." Mike smirked, "But then again, I like it better when you fight back. So, I'm torn."

Will opened his mouth for a comeback, something, anything. He couldn't show fear, no matter how much he wanted to sink into the ground from the overwhelm of emotions. In embarrassment, he turned his head to the side, toward the café, and that's when he noticed it.

There was Steve. His boss, standing at the café register with his usually breezy smile, surrounded by a group of girls who were practically throwing themselves at him, hanging on his every word.

The scene was different from usual; he was selling something, and it didn't seem like coffee. As bright as day, that's when he saw it in his hands, a stack of CDs.

Mike's CDs.

Will recognised the cheap cases instantly, the ones he'd kept locked away in his drawer for the past week. His heart hammered as Steve sold another, accepting crumpled bills in return.

Why did he have them? And why was he selling them?

This was bad, really bad.

Whatever Mike was currently blabbering on about fell on deaf ears. Will's heart was too busy pounding in his ears. He was distracted by the discs being sold off at a rapid pace. He needed to get Mike out, now before he noticed.

Before he connected the dots.

"Okay," Will blurted, cutting Mike's rambling with a frantic smile that stretched too forced, "Fun's over! You've had your laugh for the day. Time to go now."

"What?" his smirk fell to disbelief.

In an instant, Will got out from the safety of his desk, spinning Mike around and steering him toward the exit with more force than he meant to, "Come back, later! Much later. Like, I don't know, closing time or-or something."

Mike didn't even have time to resist before his boots dragged against the floor unwillingly, "Will, what the Hell?!"

"Later!" Will insisted, shoving Mike past the threshold of the door, essentially throwing him out, "If you come back later, I'll have zero patience! And it'll be even more fun to annoy me, right?"

"you're kicking me out?"

"Yup... just for now. Come back later," Will left the door open for a mere second to speak, "Remember... umm... patience is a virtue?" He gave a stiffened, panicked smile before stepping back inside the internet café, slamming the door behind him.

Through the glass, he saw Mike standing there unmoving, more confused than anything. He was amused but it clearly bothered him. He mouthed something, 'you look insane' before finally turning away.

Will didn't even give himself a second to collect his breath. The bell above his head was still ringing when Will spun on his heel, closing in on the group surrounding Steve.

He zeroed in on the funky boy who casually leaned against the table with the perfect grin, sliding another disc across to a customer.

Immediately on pursuit, Will's blood boiled. He shoved his way through the crowd, elbowing and fighting his way to the front. With a quick 'move' and 'thank you', Will reached the counter.

He slapped both hands down, startling the other patrons, "What the Hell are you doing?!" Will hissed, voice low, filled with fury.

"Uh... customer service?" Steve slid a CD case to a young woman who rummaged in her purse for change, admitting as though it was any normal Monday,

Will stopped the transaction, clamping his hand down firmly on the CD, "Why are you selling these? These were locked, in my drawer!"

Steve blinked, his mouth opening and closing as if caught, "Well I was snooping, and I saw this box in there. I thought it was new stock. Robin's always testing out weird stuff. Buttons, flyers, loyalty cards; remember when she sold those goldfish? I figured these CDs were something like that." He merely shrugged.

Will narrowed his eyes in disbelief, "Goddammit Steve! Why would we sell CDs of these new movies; some of these aren't even on Blu-ray yet!"

A pause as cogs turned in Steve's mind.

"Oh... right..."

"Exactly!"

Steve winced, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, sometimes Will wondered how he was co-manager, "Okay, point taken. But what can I do? I already sold half of them."

To that, Will grabbed the box off the counter and opened the flaps. His heart stopped, his worse fear confirmed; the stack inside was painfully thin.

If looks could kill, Will would be a murderer, "This was filled to the top! Are you kidding me?"

Raising his hands in surrender, Steve showed off his effortless stupid-easy charm, "What can I say little man? Supply and demand. And I'm a damn good salesman."

This is it. Mike's going to kill him. He's literally going to strangle him and then set the store on fire with him inside. Yet, Will kept level-headed, with a little exhale, he turned around, clearing his throat before speaking up.

"I'm sorry everyone," he announced, practically climbing the counter to make himself known, "There are no more CDs being sold."

Confusion rippled the crowd.

Will's chest heaved, filled with adrenaline, he cupped his mouth to amplify his voice, "and if you brought one, you need to return it. like right now. Of course, you'll be compensated."

The room went still, people exchanging baffled looks; someone even had the audacity to snort. Beside him, Steve leaned on an expresso machine, arms crossed as if this was the best entertainment he had all day.

Murmurs and quiet protests fill the room, the crowd dissipated, and those who did buy a CD quickly slipped the case into their bag, hiding from sight. Of course no one wanted to return the newest movies.

With a little sigh, realising no one will cooperate, Will snatched the box off the counter, enough force to make the cases rattle. He didn't even bother with subtlety. He walked pass customers who gawked him, watching as though he was crazy.

He stormed back behind his trusty counter, yanking open the left-hand drawer and shoving the whole thing back inside. Here it was at least safe. The door slammed shut, he leaned back in his seat with a deep breath.

When he came to his senses, he realised just how much of a mess he caused; scattered receipts, loose pens, and lost property all over the ground from his earlier search. Will attacked it all in a blur, collecting paper, tossing away trash and snatching up anything out of place. Each item was thrown fast and aggressive with more force than necessary, as though he was challenging his anger through cleaning.

Hunched over the counter, rerolling the loose receipt paper, a shadow enveloped the brunette.

He straightened with the roll in one hand, looking up to see Steve tilting his head, holding out onto a jar filled to the brim with bills.

"So... what's the deal with those CDs anyway? You looked like you were about to explode. Why're they such a big deal?" Steve asked curiously.

Will froze, his anger dissipating at Steve's puppy dog-like expression, like he was kicked by his owner. "I'm sorry for going crazy, but those CDs aren't mine... and the guy who does want them is... unstable... I think."

"Is he threatening you?"

"More like annoying me,"

"Oh. Well in that case..." Steve said slowly, his voice warm and genuine. He glanced away, scratching the back of his neck before shoving the jar forward into Will's hands, "Here. This is everything I made off them today."

Will blinked, surprised by the weight. He saw folded bills, some crumpled or rolled, coins and even a cheque.

"I, uh, might've charged double the listing price," Steve admitted, a little sheepish. He tried for a grin, but it didn't quite land. "Figured if people wanted them that bad, why not?"

Will tightened his grip on the jar, feeling the cooling glass sensation in his hands. His anger calmed substantially, "thanks," he glanced up at Steve once more, voice soft.

Steve gave a small lopsided smile, like a dog who knows they messed up, but glad that their human didn't hold it against them. He tapped his fingers on the counter before turning, drifting back to the café floor.

Will couldn't stay mad at Steve.

But what could he do now? He didn't have half the CDs to return to Mike. He dropped his head, resting a cheek on the counter, his tired eyes reflected in the jar. If he couldn't give Mike his CDs back, this was the only other option.

Returning empty-handed was just asking for trouble, but this money... well this money was something, right?

---- ----

2146 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV –

---- 10:50 PM ----

Time ticked.

Only ten minutes till closing. Steve's fans were making their last attempts to take him home for the night. Robin cleaned around, warning every one of the time limit, waking up any snoozing teenagers and chatting students.

Then the bell jingled.

Mike strolled in like he owned the place, his grin sharp yet irritating as ever, "Look! I'm here 'much later', just like you wanted. Do I get a reward?"

"Actually, you do!" Will forced a tad of enthusiasm despite his jackhammering heart,

Intrigued, Mike leaned closer, both elbows on the counter, "What is it?"

Will's eyes flicked toward the ceiling. He didn't want this conversation anywhere any of the patrons could overhear, or report them to the police for illegal activities,

With a quiet glance around Will mouthed, "Meet me on the roof."

"What?" Mike squinted.

He tried again, this time pointing up at the ceiling, "the roof."

"Huh?" Mike tilted his head like a dog hearing a strange noise,

Heat flared Will's cheeks, rosy and plump, "just get on the fucking roof! JEEZ!" he exclaimed exasperated.

A couple finishing their late-night treat looked at the pair, Will winced, realising just how much attention he drew, but Mike didn't even seem to care.

"Ahh, the roof!" Mike said, dragging out the word to dig into the wound, "you should have said so," he winked, heading toward the back exit that led to the staircase,

Will face palmed, cursing under his breath; this was already going to be a disaster.

A few seconds of quiet followed, Will stood at his counter until Mike disappeared out the back door and up the stairs. Sudden adrenaline coursed through his veins, his heart pumping, he was nervous. Not because he was scared, but because he had a terrible gnawing feeling that something was going to go wrong.

Quickly, he opened the drawer on his right-hand side, taking out the box, not bothering to check the source of his pain and holding it under one arm.

Box in one hand, money jar in the other.

He looked down at them, gut crunching his abdomen. He needed to get this done. With sweaty palms he made his way out back and to the roof.

One step at a time, he reached the roof, the door creaking open. His heart pound so loud he swore it made the entire building shake, though externally, Will hid it well; his smile present, posture perfect and palms only a little clammy.

Mike was already waiting, looking at the customers leaving the store below, "this is a good place to throw rocks," He muttered to himself.

"You are not doing that!" Will reprimanded, unable to tell if he was just merely joking.

Mike turned instinctively, "Finally. I thought u chickened out and just wanted to lock me up here for the night."

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" his voice was firm as he marched closer.

"So, what's this 'gift' you have for me?"

"These!" Will motioned to his arms, placing them in Mike's hands. Box first, then the jar on top, "Your stupid, illegal CDs." He emphasised, like delivering evidence.

"It's... a lot lighter," Mike didn't need to look inside to know, yet he was suspired by the sudden change in tune from yesterday, "What's this jar of money?"

"I..." Will controlled his mind, speaking eloquently, more level, "Look, I admit. I don't have all of them. Some got... sold, by accident." he admit begrudgingly, "So that's the money, actually double because Steve charged double, but you know... close enough?"

"How are you both incredibly stupid and incredibly smart?" Mike complimented and insulted at the same time, just looking at the jar with a little smile. "Maybe I should bring more items so you confiscate them." He chuckled at the idea.

"Next time I'm getting rid of them." Will admitted. "I'm just doing this, so you don't hang around here anymore"

"I thought you enjoyed my company?"

An audible groan filled the air as Will ignored the question, coming here for the second part of the exchange, "Now you have the box. Give me what I want... my charm."

Mike faked a gasp, "Not Little Will!"

"Yes 'Little Will'."

Then, passing an expression that made Will unsure if it was genuine, Mike frowned. Seemingly disappointed with the fact he had to split with the little charm, yet he knew it was the correct thing to do. Will almost recoiled at the sullen lips... he didn't know what to make of it.

Damn empathy.

He set the box to one side, and reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out the wizard figure, still pristine in Mike's care. The only part missing was that hat that stayed in Will's possession, "I've been carrying this for an entire week. I thought you forgot about it."

Will took a deep breath, enough with these troubling theatrics. "Just give it back."

Mike tilted his head like a little puppy, considering, then with a crooked smile, tossed it high into the air. Will scrambled, fumbling as he caught the figurine. Wrapping his fingers tight around the charm.

"Good catch," Mike complimented. Speaking again before Will could storm off with the charm, "Anyway, you don't have to stress about my movies anymore. I'm done with that. It was too much hassle." He shrugged. "Now it's all about pirated music; albums, concerts, remixes, unreleased songs, that kind of thing. its more cash and easier to mass-produce."

"What?"

Mike grinned as he continued explaining, "People go apeshit for music. Imagine getting your favourite artist's songs before they even hit streaming platforms."

"How... would you even do that?" Will furrowed his brows, not understanding the logistics.

"Trade secret." The ravenette merely shrugged, "I have a friend who is good at what he does, that's all I'll say."

"You can't be serious! You're upgrading your crimes?"

"Hey! Look on the bright side." Mike laughed amused, waving off his concerns, "at least next time you won't have to babysit movies.... It's going to be albums, and I can make many more."

The relief of getting his charm back was already soured by the thought of being dragged into more of Mike's chaos. "You're insane. I'm leaving."

Will started to turn on his heels, ready to put everything back in the past. When Mike's voice stopped his spin, "Wait. hold up a second."

Against his better judgment, Will faced him once more, arms crossed over his chest. Mike dug around his jacket. Will didn't know what other tricks Mike could pull from out his sleeves, but every time he did, it was either annoying or incriminating.

Then emerged a slim jewel case

A CD.

One with an album cover printed on it.

Mike flipped it once between his fingers before extending it with a sly grin, "Here. Thought you would like this one. Saw you listening to their songs."

What? How? When had Mike seen his music playlist? Will didn't realise Mike had been paying so much attention, though he had been stuck with him for hours with nothing to do.

Reluctantly, Will grabbed the CD and glanced at the cover. The Cure. Except the track list wasn't from any official album he recognised; it was a mess of unreleased songs, first drafts, and production differences. Will recognised some, some were unreleased songs he had listened to, but others, if they were real, meant Will had new, deep dark songs in his very palms.

He looked back up at Mike, trying to mask his shock with suspicion. "...You're joking."

Mike smirked. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

"I'd rather not answer that." Will awkwardly traced the cover. He felt bad for having this illegal CD, but he craved its existence. He wanted to listen to all these songs right now... and against his better judgment, he finally accepted, "Uh thanks... I guess,"

"Don't sound too thrilled. It's just something I can't get rid of, that's all!" Mike shook his head with a sigh, "it's just a freebie."

"Thanks anyways, I appreciate it, even if it is technically illegal... this isn't gonna give me a virus is it?" Will pout, analysing the casing.

"You're cute man." Mike chuckled involuntarily, barely audible, did he say that out loud? He covered it up with a cough, deepening his voice. "Anyways, I should leave. The place is going to be locked up in a bit, and um... I have to go home and stuff."

"Okay. See ya. Bye, bye now." Will waved with a little smile, "Don't come here again." He had enough Mike Wheeler for the rest of the year. Mike nodded in acknowledgment, grabbing his items and making his way down the steps.

Following shortly after, Will backed down from the roof with a CD and his half-broken charm in his hands. Mike's voice lingered fresh in his mind, and after a long while, he finally felt calmer, knowing that Mike no longer would come here to disturb his work and studying.

It was ridiculous, Will shouldn't be thinking about Mike at all, but his brain just wouldn't detach; perhaps it was the way Mike noticed exactly what album he liked or how casual the entire interaction was despite the legal technicalities. It wasn't the same stupid Mike Wheeler who flirted with every girl in sight.

For half a second Will considered the possibility that Mike wasn't the... absolute worst.

The thought alone made his core violently shudder, nearly smacking his knee on the underside of the table. Nope. Mike was still the same boy; even he has moments of... being normal.

He needed to but the CD away before his brain started re-writing reality. With a little huff, he opened his left-hand drawer, the one he used to shove all the items he didn't need. He had every intention of merely tossing the CD inside, forgetting about it until he found the time to sit down and listen to the damn thing.

But when the drawer slid open Will froze.

Inside was a box.

Mike's box, filled with bootleg CDs... the same one he handed over to him on the roof,

If the movies were still here...

Then what the hell had he just given Mike?

...

No thoughts, just running.

Will didn't have time to even think. The box he so casually tossed into Mike's hands, wasn't just some random collection of junk. It was his. All his comics, the ones he had hidden so carefully, the ones no one could ever know about.

"The boxes look so similar! Why didn't I double check?!"

His brain was light-headed from his hyperventilating. The thoughts spiralled, curing him for being too hasty and careless; why did he let his guard down?

There was no time to think or plan. Every second Mike had his box was another second Will could be exposed, and another second Will lost from life from stress. His face tainted red, splotchy with scattered patterns.

Mike out of all people can't know the truth. He just can't!

In panic, his chair knocked over, clattering onto the ground with a thud that made Steve who was cleaning the cafe flinch. But Will didn't care. Nothing mattered except getting that box back.

How could he explain this? The simple answer is he couldn't.

Mike would know, Mike would call him out, spread rumours and those would escalate, his friends would leave him, his grades would suffer. Mike may have assumed he had a massive crush and beat the living daylights out of him.

Fuck, what was he going to do?

Out the internet café, Will scanned the area frantic, like a blood sniffing hound, he zoned in on his target. Mike stood at his bike, hoisting the box and jar onto his motorcycle, clearly thinking on a way to get them home without damage.

Will galloped, "Wait! Hold on! Hold on!" he skidded to a stop just in front of him. Despite his heaving chest, Will lunged forward, grabbing the box from Mike's grip, "I gave the wrong one. Give it back," his tone curt.

Yet, Mike was stronger, he held on in confusion and amusement. Mike loved to push people's buttons, and that's what he was clearly doing right now. "Woah, careful." He chuckled playfully like a kitten batting at string, "what's in here that's so valuable?"

Will froze, his brain scrambling as he pulled on the box. He couldn't let it rip. No, ripping was worse. How does one make someone like Mike let go? He couldn't ask nicely, reason or wrestle him, Mike was too cocky and strong for that.

Then, in a second of panic-filled creativity, Will's eyes darted to the box, then Mike's expression. An idea, as ridiculous and desperate as it may seem, struck him, "These are my porno mags!" he yelled, a few passersby turned. Will hoped sheer absurdity would work.

And it did.

In pure shock, horror, and confusion, Mike's eyes widened. His grip fell for a second as he looked away, "HUH?!" he stammered, hoping he heard incorrectly, his usual grin gone.

Will didn't hesitate. With swift precision, he snatched the box from Mike's hands, holding it to his chest like a secret treasure. Not a single second later, he yelled out, "I'll give your CDs tomorrow," before running back inside the now-empty internet café.

He sat back behind his counter, traumatised by the own words that came out his mouth. He didn't know what to do. He was going to be labelled a pervert! Everything he did made something else worse.

He was cursed.

He opened the box in his lap, running a finger over the pages. There they were, all his comics neatly stacked, nothing was missing, and nothing was out of place.

"Did he look inside?" He muttered under his breath, low and uncertain. The thought that Mike had peeked made his stomach twist in knots... "Mike would have said something, right?"

After all the adrenaline left his body, Will was now able to be lean back in his chair with a sigh of relief,

"I don't know!" he muttered, shaking his head dramatically, "What am I going to do?"

The thought gnawed at him, refusing to settle. Mike always had some snarky remark, or joke at his expense; if he saw, then this was bad. Will leaned forward until his forehead reached his knees, curling in half.

Will pulled on his hair, "I'm fucked."

---- ----

2322 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV -

---- ----

The next morning felt surreal. Will was on edge, constantly looking over his shoulder like a wanted criminal. He carried the CD box with him, rattling with each step.

Paranoia ate him alive, and he couldn't wait all day to give Mike his box in the evening. He double, triple checked his box multiple times before leaving for school.

He hugged the box tighter as he slipped through the busy streets. Students rushed past in clusters, adults eager to get to work, and geriatrics out for their daily walk. Will lowered his head, hoping he could sink into the ground, wishing the box didn't draw too much attention.

Soo focused on his own thoughts, Will didn't even notice when a tall man was trailing him, eyes flicking between Will and the box. Before Will could even react, the box was yanked straight out his hands.

"Huh?!" Will gasped, unable to even comprehend what happened, frozen to his spot. The thief was already bolting down the sidewalk, the box under his arm.

But then someone rushed past him, El.

"Will call the cops." She announced. From across the street she had seen everything, and without hesitation, sprinted after the man with reckless abandon, her hair flipping behind her while others watched.

"Hey!" she yelled, "Stop right now!"

The thief barely made it down the block before El caught up, striking him once in the back of the head and stopping the man in his spot. "Where are you going jerk?" she jumped to block his path.

With sharp, efficient movements, she drove her fist straight into his gut. The man doubled down in pain, dropping the box, allowing El to catch it.

People cheered, complimenting her. Then, calmly as ever, El marched back over with a little smile as though this was nothing more than a morning errand.

Will stood frozen, jaw practically hitting the concrete as she handed him the box, "You must have been startled," She frowned,

"Yeah!" His nod was wide-eyed, awe painting his features, "You were super cool! How did you do that?"

"Never mind that. Are you okay?"

"El!" Will cooed impressed, his voice softer then intended, "You're my hero!"

El giggled, covering her mouth in slight embarrassment, "Eh? Stop it!"

---- ----

In class, Will entered the class with box in hand, he sighed upon seeing Mike across the room, slouched in his usual desk near the back. He twirled a pen between his fingers, pretending not to listen to the gaggle of girls talking nearby.

He hoped Mike would be late today.

Will was doing what needed to be done. Without a word to his friends, he snuck past the desks like a game of 'Snake', setting the box down squarely on Mike's desk without eye contact, "this- this is... well your box. Here." He awkwardly admitted.

No reaction was needed. Will didn't want to see it, he was too embarrassed after yesterday's excursion. Instead, Will spun on his heel back to his desk, sliding into his seat in one fluid motion.

Luckily, his friends didn't seem to notice, or care.

Dustin leaned over instantly, his voice quiet, "Dude, we heard what happened this morning. El beat up some guy for you?"

Will groaned, "It wasn't like that. It was just... she punched him because he stole from me."

Lucas raised a brow impressed, "It's not very shocking at all though. El's always been like that. In middle school, she broke some kid's arm for bringing a knife into school."

"Woah!" Will was in awe, "She sounds like a beast!"

"She is!" Lucas segued smoothly into the next conversation,  "Did you have anyone like that in your school?"

"Oh, um no..." Will scratched the back of his neck, it was a time he'd rather forget.

"C'mon dude, you never talk about your middle school. Like ever."

"I know right!" Dustin smacked Will's arm. "At least, what did your uniforms look like?"

"Uh... the uniforms were ugly, I guess. Nothing interesting." That was a lie. They could wear anything they wanted; it was a public school with virtually no dress code.

"Come on man, you've got to have some pictures with friends or something?" Lucas rationalised.

"Um... well." Will's throat went dry, his mind jumped to images of his early years, the fighting, name calling, and property damage. The worst was when his sketchbook was ripped apart before his eyes and thrown in the trash. He swallowed hard, a sudden idea hitting, "The school had a very strict 'no phone' policy... so I don't have any pictures."

"Sucks." Dustin sighed.

Will hated lying like this, but what else could he do? Tell them that he was bullied in and out of school, and his bullies still tormented him now when given the opportunity.

"What about crushes then?" Dustin continued, "You never talk about them." He sighed dramatically, leaning his whole weight on Lucas's body, "What's your type at least?"

"Oh... well..." Will's throat closed up. The expectant stares of his friends bore into his soul to search for an answer. His mind scrambled uselessly for characteristics, any characteristics of any girl he's ever met, why did his mind go blank?

Clatter

Something rolled across the classroom floor with a metallic ping, bouncing to a stop near Will's desk; Will was cast out his thoughts, bending down to pick it up. A girl shrieked from her seat, jumping to retrieve it, virtually snatching it from Will's hand.

"What was that all about?" Lucas looked at her, already running back to give the pen back to the owner... Mike Wheeler.

Will furrowed his brows in surprise, just in time to see Mike leaning lazily in his chair at the back, accepting the pen with a little wink. He didn't look at Will directly, but Will caught the quick glance in his eyes; like he knew exactly what he'd done.

Dustin was distracted instantly, chiming in with a comment, craning his neck to see the girl eagerly return the lost item hoping it would lead to more. Lucas rolled his eyes, muttering something about getting second-hand embarrassment.

With one action, they had forgotten about the questions they had asked completely.

Will ducked his head, grateful for the interruption, though the back of his mind gnawed at him, wondering why Mike had bothered helping at all.

---- ----

The bus ride home matched Will's mood, rain overcast, the day seemingly night as he leaned his head on the glass window.

He sat through homeroom, maths, history and others with messy notes and incoherent sentences all because he kept stopping to look at Mike who was in most of his classes.

Usually, Mike had been nothing but a constant nuisance, laughing and joking with that smug grin that dug under Will's skin. Yet today was different. As though it was someone pretending to be Mike, they had the same voice, looks and charisma, but something about the way he acted was off.

Why had Mike helped him this morning? Mike wasn't the type to willingly get involved in other people's buisness. Will analysed Mike over the day. He appeared to have no friends despite being surrounded at all times. Some guys even likened him to a sociopath with the way he worked a crowd.

He had to admit; it was unsettling.

Mike was there, seemingly around every corner. At break and lunch, he kept staring, from across the room or cafeteria, eyes sharp and unsettling. Will felt like dissolving into the ether from embarrassment, like he was constantly tiptoeing a tightrope.

Will shifted awkwardly as the bus went over a bump, uncomfortable with the thought of Mike being the way he was. He didn't really talk friendly to anyone, so why did Mike acknowledge him out of all people, and what did the music CD mean? Despite the whole box situation, Mike was showing too much attention.

Will closed his eyes, hearing the steady drumming of rain against the windows. He told himself to stop thinking.

When his stop came, Will was the first off, standing under the shade of the bus stop. The rain came down hard, pelting the Earth around him.

With a deep breath, Will prepared himself, his dress shoes splashing through the shallow puddles as rain came down harder. He pulled his bag over his head like a flimsy umbrella, muttering curses under his breath. By the time he reached the internet café, his bag was heavy and soaked. Will hoped his books were at the very least dry.

Pushing open the front door, Will stepped inside and froze.

It was pitch dark.

The café usually buzzed with patrons, young and old, computer screens alit, and loud chatter in the background. Now it was a mere husk of an empty room, just shadows of darkened monitors and vacant desks.

He sighed, perhaps he had simply missed a memo, yet his fingers were so wet that any attempt to use his phone was futile. Nonetheless, he reached for the light-swich by the entrance, flicking it up and down.

"Don't bother, I've already tried that!" A voice spooked him, booming over the floor while a flashlight blared at him.

"Robin?"

"Powers out!" she shrugged,

"Oh... makes sense."

"I'm here too!" Steve jumped out from under his café counter, flashlight casting long shadows across the familiar floor; the empty atmosphere carried a sense of foreboding, as though something terrible was going to occur.

Will shuddered, he had been writing too many English essays these days.

"The whole block's affected. Apparently, a tree fell, or a pole, or something, I'm not too sure." Robin explained, "long story short, we have no power."

"Me and Robin are gonna clean and organise some junk or whatever until the lights come back. You can head home if you want. Storms nasty though," Steve added, perfecting his messy hair.

A quick glance at the window told Will all he needed to know about the condition outside, "I think I'll stay." The thought of walking back home, getting more drenched than he already was, made his stomach sink.

Steve smiled, "Sure thing. I'll drop you off afterwards then."

Before Will could speak, Robin walked over, rolling her eyes at Steve before setting a chunky candle down on Will's desk. Its little flame flickered, casting a warm golden glow that cut through the shadows just enough for him to see. "There. Try not to set the place on fire, yeah?"

"Thanks guys, both of you." Will took his usual seat and peeled off his blazer. Ordinarily, he would have gone home to change, but in this weather, he couldn't afford to make that trek.

With a defeated sigh, he took out his notebooks, thankful his work had remained untouched by the downpour. Will hunched over the counter, collecting every last bit of candle light he could.

The flame wobbled every time he leaned too close, shadows bending too tight where he could barely make sense of his notes. His phone sat beside him, a glorified clock now that the lack of Wi-fi rendered it useless.

The storm outside intensified, but that didn't bother him, the sound was oddly therapeutic, adding some much needed background noise to fill the void. He was halfway through reading a passage of text when a sharp jingled ran through the front door.

Without looking up, Will sighed and muttered, "Sorry, we're closed. Power's out. But you're happy to stay until the rain's cleared." He offered, not one to turn someone away in weather like this.

But the eerie silence followed; Will thought that the doorbell was just a mere figment of his imagination. So with a frown, he looked up, seeing a tall figure in shadows with a helmet and something bulky in his hand. For a second, Will's heart stopped, this was a trope from almost every horror movie he'd watched, but then a gloved hand lifted to remove the headset with a little click.

"Hi!" Mike's voice rang through the air soft, his cheekbones visible in the dim candlelight. He shook his hair like a dog, a messy tousle framing his face perfectly.

"Mike?"

"What? I come here in this rain and all I get is 'we're closed'?"

Will sat up straighter, baffled, "You... you rode here? In this?" he gestured vaguely toward the window, his motorcycle sitting under the shade outside, "Are you insane?!"

"Probably," Mike shrugged, stepping further inside, trailing water behind him as he placed his helmet on the counter. Will internally winced, practically hearing the scolding Steve would give him later. Mike glanced around at the dim, candlelit internet café, "Power's out, huh? I thought this was just romantic ambience,"

"Don't make me throw up," Will rolled his eyes, "Why are you here anyways? I gave you back your CDs, didn't i?"

"I'm here to return this." Mike held up a jar, the one that Will had given him yesterday.

"You are insane." Will shook his head, turning back to his work, "You rode through a storm just to bring me back an empty jar?"

Mike smirked, unbothered by Will's disbelief. "Seemed important. Figured you'd want it back."

"You could have returned it any other day,"

With a shrug, Mike clicked the jar on the table before lounging down on the nearest chair like he owned the place, boots carelessly tapping the ground. The rain bounced on the windows, and silence enveloped the pair. Will didn't dare talk.

"I got a new idea for a future money-maker." He started, clicking his lighter, "I've been thinking of selling comics too."

Will hunched over his notebook, didn't even bother lifting his eyes, "Okay." His pencil scratched the paper, struggling to see as he tried to shut down the conversation.

"Do you have any suggestions? You can be my first customer." Mike grinned at being dismissed as usual.

Will waved him off with a lie, "I don't read comics."

Mike chuckled under his breath, keeping his amusement, "There was one I saw yesterday... what was it called? Oh yeah, Prince of the Moonlight."

Pencil cracked. The words hit Will like a freight train, his nails digging into his palms. Slowly, almost mechanically, he lifted his head. His eyes locked with Mike's, who, despite the dimming lights, smirk was evident.

Will's throat tightened. "...What did you just say?"

"Prince of the Moonlight," Mike repeated, stretching out the title like he was tasting it. "Kinda dramatic, right? Cover's real shiny, though. Looks like something you'd... I don't know. Appreciate."

Will's heartbeat spoked, traveling everywhere. His ears, fingertips, ribs and legs pound with every beat. His mind scrambled; that was specific. Too specific.

"Never heard of it," Will lied, forcing a laugh, "sounds stupid."

Mike leaned back in his chair, the back almost cracking at the angle after Will's weak denial. Pretending to think it over, Mike's grin never faded, "Huh? Stupid?" he tapped his foot up and down, "But I'm pretty sure 'Prince of the Moonlight' was one of those... gay things, wasn't it?"

Will froze as Mike continued speaking, "Yeah, that's it. two dudes making bedroom eyes at each other under the moonlight or some crap." He chuckled under his breath, his tone now amused, "sounds like something you'd REALLY like."

"No." Will was assertive, yet his voice shook, "I don't read... that type of stuff."

"Really?" Mike stood up, voice low and playful. Before Will could scoot back, Mike planted both hands on Will's chair, effectively caging him in. Will stiffened, pressing against the back of his chair. His breath caught in his throat.

"Cause you're blushing like hell right now," Mike murmured, tilting his head like he was studying a rare artifact. "Red all the way up your neck. It's cute."

"I'm not! Shut up! Shut up!" Will shook his head, more violently,

"You know... the way you're reacting?" Mike chuckled, genuinely laughing with a raised brow. "It's almost like you do know a lot about those kinds of comics."

Mike's words hit like a hammer.

"Admit it Will," he said, voice cruel, "You're gay."

Violently jerking his head in a shake, Will fought, "N-no! that's not true," he whispered, his voice trembling on the edge of tears. His hands balled into fists, nails biting into skin, "I'm not!" Will couldn't even say the word.

Like a wolf, Mike continued his wild smirk, "C'mon man." He pressed, leaning closer, his breath mixing with Will's panicked gasps, "Don't lie. I know this, you know this. You are gay."

Will couldn't take it anymore. He was overwhelmed and scared.

Will's body trembled, adrenaline flooding every vein as he suddenly gathered every ounce of strength he had. He dug his hands into Mike's chest, shoving him away. Mike stumbled back, more surprise than from the force, his grin faltering.

"Fine! I'm gay! So what?! Want a medal?!" Will stood up from his seat, his face red and blotchy, eyes glazed with tears threatening to fall. He pointed his finger, digging it out into Mike's chest, spilling like venom,

"What? You gonna report me for liking guys?! Huh!?" Will dug his grave, shoving Mike's shoulder with his own. "What are you gonna do about it, asshole?!" he added another few shoves.

Mike stumbled back from the chair, eyes wide at the outburst,

Will's whole body shook, filled by rage and panic, his breathing ragged as he walked. His books, bag and blazer sat abandoned at the counter, forgotten. He didn't even glance at them as he turned, storming through the dark café and out the door, leaving with whatever dignity he had left.

Uncharacteristically softer, Mike opened his mouth to call out, but his voice refused to come out, too taken aback. He knew he pushed too hard; he was equal parts amused and regretful, although, more amused.

Meanwhile, Will left the café. He didn't care how much it was raining, he carried on. Cold water pelted him, soaking through his shirt and plastering his hair to his forehead. His sneakers splashed through puddles as he ran home.

The front of his house came into view, and eventually he was inside, unsure when he had even unlocked the door in his adrenaline spiked run. He was ragged and out of breath. The moment he past the threshold, he slithered to the ground, sprawled out in the middle of the kitchen, a puddle forming around him.

He didn't bother changing, too numb to move. His arms flung out beside him, his head titled back to feel the cool floor as he whispered to himself, "it's over. It's all over. He knows. I'm dead."

The front door opened, Joyce bustled in holding a grocery bag, going on about a coupon she had found in the mail. She barely glanced at Will, stepping over his sprawled form like this was any other day, and to her, it was. Will always did this when he was sad, although most times, it was for minor inconveniences, from stubbing his toe to getting a pimple.

"Back early, honey?" she asked absentmindedly, placing her bags on the table, "don't lie in the middle of the floor, you'll catch a cold."

No sound left Will's mouth. He didn't dare move like a permanent fixture to the house. Joyce hummed with every step, unpacking groceries and not noticing the way his chest rose and fell.

A few moments later the lock clicked again, his older brother, Jonathan walked through, messenger bag over his shoulder carelessly. He moved toward the kitchen, eyes tired, stopping just short of inches of tripping over Will's body, "Jesus, Will!" Jonathan adjusted his balance, "What the hell are you doing on the ground?"

Will didn't bother turning his head, merely moving his eyes, "Step on me," he whispered, whining, "Squish me like a bug. Put me out my misery."

Will could tell them what happened, but that meant admitting two things, number one was that he was accustom to being bullied and number two is that he is gay. And honestly, Will didn't want his family to know about either; he worried for their reaction.

"You're so dramatic," Jonathan blinked down at him before carefully stepping over, "You better move before you cause a damp spot,"

Will sighed; did his family really care about the ground more then him? he heard his family walk over and around him, cautiously making sure not to step on him; they were used to this after all.

Joyce sighed but smiled faintly at her eldest, used to her youngest being odd. "He's fine," she reassured, putting away a jar of peanut butter. "He's in that phase where he thinks the world's against him,"

'Phase'? this 'phase' has been going on for sixteen crappy years. The statement was a funny way to describe his current state. Will was anything but 'fine', not even close.

He lay there, on the kitchen floor just a little longer; a turtle out his shell.

---- ----

3364 Words

9 chapters in and he finally knows.

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

MIKE POV -

---- 12:34 AM ----

Cross-legged on his bed, the yellow glow of his desk lamp illuminated the clutter he'd dumped out to dry; Will's binder, notebooks and a couple of textbooks. Mike ran a hand through his hair, still a little damp from the shower.

He wasn't snooping, nor was he a thief. He'd only brought the stuff home because Will stormed off without them.

For the first time since meeting Will, Mike wasn't joking. He stared deeply at the items before him, replaying the past week, not knowing how he missed it. He was good at reading people, that was part of the person he was, so how did he miss Will being gay when it was so clear in front of him? The way Will spoke, acted, and dressed were not remarkable, but it was hidden actions, only someone who was studying Will would know.

Will avoided eye contact with guys, no matter who they were. Mike had seen it before, the way Will would avoid eye contact like it was a sin. The more attractive a guy was, the less Will would even look at them, as though merely looking was harassment.

It was also the way Will reacted when girls flirted, not even twitching with interest, it was almost like he didn't even register them. Once or twice in the store, Mike had overheard a girl sweet-talking him, tucking a strand behind her ear, batting her lashes or letting their fingers linger when giving money, but nothing. Will would merely smile like usual, handing them change before returning to whatever he was doing. Most boys would have been tripping over themselves.

The more he thought, the more obvious it seemed. "You're terrible at hiding it, Will," Mike chuckled under his breath, even though his chest felt strangely tight.

And then, the box, his concrete proof.

Mike's smirk fell, replaced with something heavier. The moment replayed in his mind, that previous night when he was handed his CDs back randomly; at first, he thought he had won, yet when he got to his bike, he peeked inside, just absentmindedly. A quick flash of colours greeted him, and they weren't CDs.

On the covers were two boys, lewdly drawn with minimal clothing, protecting their modesty. Obviously gay comics. Not exactly something that would be carried around unless it was important to the reader. And, it wasn't something a 'straight boy' would read.

What solidified his thinking was when Will rushed him, practically ripping the box out his hands. His face was scarlet, neck scorching, hives threatening to appear. He was a deer in headlights, scared and confused. It was clear he was caught. It was clear Will was gay.

And tonight. He admitted it.

Mike cast his thoughts as he leaned back again, smiling faintly despite himself. "Guess I was right."

His eyes landed on the blazer draped over the back of his desk chair, still damp and sagging from the downpour. He frowned, jumping to his feet to clutch it aggressively, "just what I needed, his sad school uniform as a souvenir,"

For a second, the impulsive part of his mind brought him to the waste basket, threatening to throw it away as it dangled above. He stared down at it, the wet fabric dripping onto his carpet. He wondered how Will would react, perhaps annoyed, angry, or maybe even sad, the thought made Mike grin... almost.

"You're lucky I'm not a total asshole." He whispered to the blazer with a sigh. Mike slung it over his shoulder, carrying it over to the laundry room, and stuffed it inside the washing machine. He added detergent, slamming the door with a little more force than necessary, and turning the dial.

Watching it spin in the drum, Mike crossed his arms, shaking his head in reluctant amusement. "Why do I even care about that gay boy?"

WILL POV -

---- 8:23 AM ----

Bag, books, stationary.

The scene seemed almost staged. His bag was propped neatly at the foot of the table, his notebooks stacked with precision on the desk and the once wet blazer was dry, folded neatly on the back of his chair like it was waiting for him.

Will's stomach twisted. He never brought any of these items. He lost them last night since he'd stormed out the café without a second thought, rain soaking his very soul. He'd barely ate, barely slept and replayed every word Mike threw at him. It was the way Mike leaned in close, calling Will gay like he knew it was a fact.

Will bit his lip.

He knew Mike was the one who took it home. First, he texted Steve and Robin early that morning, desperate for an explanation. Both replies had been blunt: 'Your friend took your stuff home.'  Steve had even added a little shrug emoji like it was no big deal.

But for Will, it was a big deal.

Fear covered him when he read that text, convinced Mike would have trashed his items, held them for ransom, or worse, vandalised his books with unsightly curses. The thought of his schoolbooks being ripped apart was too much to bear.

Nothing was amiss. All his books were neat, dry and stacked.

Taking a seat did nothing to help him, he was cautious. The fabric of his blazer was soft, too soft to be straight from the rain; it was warm and faintly smelled of detergent. It had been washed.

Head down, he was lost in thought, every scrape of chair, footstep or chatting made him jump; it didn't help that Mike sat mere rows behind, sharp eyes focused deep and intrusive on him.

Spiralling thoughts filled his mind, considering all the possible scenarios of what Mike could do to him now he had this sort of leverage; rumours, jokes, notes, and even broken bones. It was just like his past coming to haunt him.

"Will?"

The soft voice perforated his bubble. He looked up startled, finding El hovering over him, her expression calm, "Are you feeling unwell?"

"Oh... um, no." he mumbled, "I'm not sick, just... sleepy,"

"Really?" She seemed taken aback as though that wasn't the words she was expecting, "But Mike said..."

"Mike? what did he say about me?" Will blurted, cutting her off, he sat up, posture straightening.

"He said you were sick and asked him to bring your stuff up,"

"He... said that?" Will pondered, the thought uneasy. Why had Mike lied? It didn't make sense in his mind. He thought Mike would start rumours, and why not? He had nothing to lose.

"Yeah! Are you guys' friends?"

"Friends? Me and him?! no way!"

"Aww! It's a shame," she pout, "He's not what you think... Mike isn't a bad guy, he just doesn't give good first impressions," giggling soft to accentuate the point before taking her seat beside him.

"Yeah, maybe," Will absentmindedly agreed. These contradictions were alarming, one second Mike was forcing Will to come out the closet, the next he's silently returning his things.

With that, Will's head hit the table.

"What am I going to do now?" he mumbled,

---- ----

The bell rang five minutes ago, but Will made no attempt to do anything of purpose. He quietly trailed Mike, like paparazzi without a camera, he felt like an obsessed fan, following their favourite celebrity around.

Deeper into the hallway, chatter lingered on, dulling in Will's ears as he merely watched, eyes fixed on the ravenette walking away, two girls on his arm, tossing out lazy jokes that made them laugh louder than necessary.

Will growled, chest tightening. He could walk away, but instead, adrenaline filled him, his feet carrying him forward, every step reverberating through him.

Before losing his nerves, Will shoved his way forward and hooked an arm tightly over Mike's shoulder. Mike barely had enough time to blink before he was thrown in a headlock.

"What the fu-" Mike stumbled, almost dropping his phone. The girls gasped in surprise, watching as he was dragged away under Will's arm, traveling further out of sight.

Will ignored the looks he was getting from others as the determination burned in his gut, running faster as he muttered annoyed, "Shut up and just move."

Mike tilted his head to look up at him, hair strands covering his eyes. The shock dissolved into amusement at the awkward angle; he didn't appreciate being headlocked, but he found it hilarious that it was Will.

"Is this your way of flirting? Maybe that's why you're single."

"Shut up." Will growled, taking him onto a quiet space on the school roof.

Sharp wind hit their faces, but Will kept going, finally releasing the ravenette with a rough push. Mike stumbled back, fixing his hair while grinning like an idiot.

"Well," Mike chuckled, "if you wanted me alone, all you had to do was ask. I know I'm irresistible but please move on from me."

"You think I like you?" Will took a deep breath to calm himself, "Just listen to me. Don't talk."

The grin on Mike's face faltered, curiosity flickering, leaning against the railing, "finally serious, huh?"

"Micheal!" his voice was poignant, assertive, his chest heaved with force in his words, "I'm just gonna tell you once. Don't you dare tell anyone about what I said yesterday,"

"About what?"

"Don't play dumb."

"I really have no clue." Mike feigned innocence.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"That your gay?"

"Lower your voice! If you breathe a single thing about me. I... I-" his throat tightened, but forced himself to stay steady, "I swear I'll make you regret it."

"Is that a threat?" Mike chuckled out loud, doubling down in hysteria, "You're so cute, man," he taunted,

"I'm being serious!"

"So you are threatening me?"

"Yeah, I am." Will's voice was low, attempting to sound scary.

For a moment the quiet stretched between them. Will's face flushed, thinking he won this war despite the burning rage and tremble in his fingers.

Then, Mike calmly reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone with a devious grin, thumb moving with practised ease.

A familiar voice filled the air.

"Fine! I'm gay! So what?! Want a medal?! ...what? You gonna report me for liking guys?! Huh!?"

Will froze.

It was his own voice, raw, deep, full of emotion and deep-seated rage. His heart jumped at the memories of last night. His outburst, admission, temper, all crackling through the small speaker.

Every part of their interaction yesterday.

Proof.

Mike allowed it to finish, hearing the end of Will's prior tantrum. The smirk on his face turned even cockier while he tucked his phone away with a careless shrug.

"You were saying?"

Will's bravado cracked, throat dry and red. His hands twitched at his sides, wanting to grab the phone but too afraid that failing would result in the circulation of that video.

"You recorded me?"

"I just... never thought you'd admit it."

"Delete it."

"Hmmm..." Mike pretended to ponder the idea, "I don't think so."

"What do you want me to do? Just tell me."

"What do I want?" his playful voice rung out in cruelty, "Well... for starters, I think it would be pretty funny if you begged."

Will's eyes shot up, but he didn't dare complain, instead, before Mike could even blink, Will's knees buckled, his form dropping down to the concrete, his hands gripping at the edge of Mike's hoodie.

"Please," Will's voice was quiet, raw and trembling. His forehead pressed against the back of Mike's hand because he couldn't bear to look up, "Please don't tell anyone. I'll do anything you want. Please?"

He hated begging, but he would do it if it meant he would be left alone; he didn't want a repeat of his middle school. He used to beg his bullies all the time in middle school too, what difference did it make if he did it now? His life was always going to be like this.

Something unfamiliar occurred, Mike's smug expression faltered for a brief moment. His eyes widened in guilt as though he hadn't expected Will to beg like this, to look so desperate.

However, Mike masked his guilt quickly, he couldn't afford to feel such a thing. He clicked his tongue, sighing, "get up."

For a split second, Will's heart leapt in relief. Enough to make his bones shake as he scrambled back to his feet, dusting his jeans with shaking hands. He smiled soft, thinking back to what El said earlier; perhaps she was right.

Mike wasn't as bad as he seemed; was he an angel?

Mike's grin returned, slow and wolfish; something was wrong. He leaned in close, so close Will could feel his breath against his ear.

"Anything, huh?" he whispered, savouring the way Will stiffened. Then, he leaned back just enough to meet his wide eyes, smirk turning wicked. "You'll do anything I say?"

He was a fallen angel.

Will's stomach dropped, his smile of relief cracking instantly into dread. He could see it in Mike's eyes, the crazy, manic thoughts. Whatever was coming, it wasn't going to be good.

RINGGGGG

Saved by the bell, literally.

Mike straightened up first, brushing his hoodie like nothing unusual happened, then with that same cocky grin he reached forward, ruffling Will's hair, rough and teasing, reminding him who was in power,

"Don't look so scared," Mike mocked in amusement, "I'm sure you'll be a good little errand-boy for me." He tilted his head, eyes dark, no threats were needed to know exactly what he really meant.

Mike gave a satisfied hum before leaving, shoving his hands into his pockets and headed towards the door like he usually did. He didn't look back, he knew Will would follow, they both knew Will couldn't afford to throw a tantrum right now.

Like a puppy with a tail between his legs, Will stayed a few seconds longer, fists clenched so tight his nails drew blood. His chest constricted, stomach raising bile and mind filled with Mike's voice.

Yet, he forced himself to follow, keeping his head down. He entered the class behind, no one noticed his shaking hands or the way his legs wobbled with every step. All they saw was the same quiet boy as usual.

Will glanced around the room, seeing Mike lounging in his desk, his table squeaking. Once, twice. Again. He wanted to ignore it, but the part of his mind that wanted to keep his secret contained begged him to intervene. With a little breath, he ran over, replacing the table with his.

"Here," Will muttered, trying to retreat while avoiding Mike's intense gaze.

"That's better," the ravenette said, shaking the table to feel the resistance, but then he unexpectedly grabbed his arm, pulling the brunette in, he whispered with a mocking edge, "You know, being pathetic doesn't really suit you,"

Pathetic. The word landed like a punch to the gut, making Will's chest tighten. He wanted to argue, snap or throw a fit, but instead he smiled, awkwardly and crooked.

Mike leaned forward, tilting his head, "relax," his voice soft yet condescending, "just remember what I said. Just act normal and do as I say, simple, right?"

"Simple." Will repeated.

"Act normal," Mike added in a low tone, the command sharp on his tongue, "And for fuck sake, don't look like I neutered you,"

"I... wont..." he swallowed the bile in his throat.

"Good," Mike chuckled, "By the way, give me your number," he held out his phone,

"Why?"

"Because I said so." Short, assertive and to the point,

"right..." Will mumbled, searching his pockets to pull out his phone, clicking it against Mike's to transfer the data.

In response, Mike raised a hand to give Will's cheek a light tap, just enough to sting yet not really hurt, Mike amused, "Good boy,"

Just like a dog.

He couldn't keep a blush from painting his face, Will stood frozen for a second longer. 'Pathetic'. 'Good boy'. The words tangled and looped in his mind, searing into his brainstem

Mike was right. He was pathetic.

---- ----

It was the middle of class, and nobody was watching, Will focused on his work, one question at a time. The class fell deadly silent, save the sound of quiet whispers and coughing. Will sat at his desk hunched over when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He frowned, hardly anyone texted him in class besides Mom or Jonathan, and his friends usually just yelled across the room rather than bother with messages. Secretly pulling out his phone, he glanced at the screen.

It was from an unknown number,

'I'm thirsty'

Before he could even register, another text came through,

'Get me a drink'

There were no formality, no exclamation of amusement, nor please or thanks. But indeed, Will could tell who sent those messages, Mike.

Another buzz, another text came.

'What's taking so long?'

Gritting his teeth, Will wanted to ignore it, to shove the phone deep into his pocket and pretend he never read it. but then, Mike cleared his throat, and Will caught it.

Without even realising, Will was on his feet. The class looked at him, casting suspicious glances and peculiar looks. His teacher stopped mid-sentence, brows arched in confusion.

"Will? What are you doing?"

"I... um... bathroom!" he blurted, voice cracking, doubling down dramatically. 

"Um... Sure thing... go." the teacher mumbled, too shocked by the situation.

In response, Will grabbed his wallet, bolting out before anyone could question him, ears burning hot red, leaving behind a trail of laughter from his classroom. He was definitely going to lose face after that incident.

By the time he reached a vending machine, he was out of breath, fingers shaking as he shoved coins in the slot, eyes darting nervously at the choices; the overpriced drinks filling his sight.

Scanning the possibilities, his eyes landed on the cheapest available item, a beetroot soda. Will almost gagged at the thought of fizzy beetroot juice, but none the less, selected it; the can dropped down with a heavy thud.

Will snatched it up, running through the halls and back up the stairs, lungs burning. The moment he entered, the class ended, the teacher left with a little wave, not caring that Will had just entered.

With a resigned sigh, Will fixed his breathing, placing the can on Mike's desk, ready to leave when Mike called out, "What the fuck is this?"

"Uh... a drink?" Will spat almost sarcastically.

"And you think I would drink something like this?"

Will clenched his fists, "You never said what you wanted, so I made an educated guess."

"Sounds like a shit education."

Gritting through his teeth, Will asked, "what would you like then?" His smile was stretched, entirely fake.

"Hmmm... I don't know what types of drinks they sell here," he tapped his chin in mocking thought, before coming up with a solution,

"How about you buy me every single drink from the vending machine?"

---- ----

3048 Words

i've actually written the next two chapters but... they'll probably be released another day <3

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV –

"You can't be serious."

"As serious as a heart attack." Mike dramatically pressed a hand to his chest, "I want every single drink,"

"That is insane." the words spaced out to emphasise his point.

Mike's smirk widened, "...You wouldn't want me to spread that little recording, right?"

"Right..." Will grit in reply, holding down all the curses he wished to say, he reminded himself that he wasn't in power in this situation.

With reluctant steps, Will headed out the room and back down the stairs. His wallet burned at the thought of purchase; every pay check he had was going to be stolen by this greedy man.

One by one, Will punched the numbers into the vending machine, seeing his cash dwindle; cans, bottles and cartons hit the metal with a thud, transported into a stray cardboard box he stole from the side. He dumped them all in, the box bending with the shape.

Using his knees to lift, Will carried the box; it was much heavier than he thought. His arms trembled and his shoulders ached, but he carried it anyway; he needed to. His legs quivered as he rushed up the stairs. He was sweating and breathless, but he would get to the classroom.

Eventually, he entered the room, reaching Mike's desk with a final grunt, throwing the heavy box on the table with a thud, cans rattling, mocking him. Will leaned on the box for a second, "Here! Every drink you wanted," he said, catching his breath.

Mike looked impressed, examining the items like a king analysing a servant's offering. His lips curled into a lazy smirk, "You actually did it; proud of you." He plucked a soda can from the pile, turning over to inspect the label, then casually setting it back down, "Thing is... I'm not really thirsty anymore."

"What?!" Will exclaimed, disbelief spreading,

"Yeah! Turns out I kinda fuck with the beetroot soda after all. So you can just, y'know, toss the rest," his grin reached his ears, hands kept behind his head dismissively, lounging around like a beach day, his empty soda-can crushed on one side of his desk.

Anger filled Will's every pore. He wanted to throttle Mike, to scream, shove or demand why this game was so funny. But he remained tight-lipped, not wanting to escalate the situation. So, with a little nod, Will scooped the box back into his arms and returned to his desk.

What could he do with the mountain of drinks? There was no way he'd be able to finish them by himself, even if he handed them to his friends.

Then, a thought filled him, bursting with an impulsive decision as he stood up, he grabbed a handful of bottles and cans, setting them one-by-one on his classmates' desks; perhaps this would make up for his earlier embarrassment.

Some kids looked up in confusion, eyeing the drink suddenly placed in front of them. A few smiled in surprise, quietly thanking him while others just shrugged, not bothering to ask questions.

Then, when he was at the last desk,

PSSHHHHHT!

The can hissed violently as he set it down, spraying sticky foam across the desk and onto the boy sitting there.

Miles.

Will froze, blood running cold. Out of all people, it had to be Miles, the tall, quiet guy on the swim team who radiated the kind of energy that made Will's skin crawl. He wasn't weird by any means, he was perfectly normal; he played a sport and had multiple friends, so why was Will so afraid?

It was his eyes.

Dark, unsettling and sinister. If looks could kill, Miles would be a mass murderer. There was no shine in his eyes, and his facial expression appeared as though he could tell you exactly when and where you'd die.

Miles was the exact opposite of Mike, he rarely spoke to anyone who wasn't on his team, and when he did, the answers were short, assertive and to the point, yet always held an undercurrent of eeriness.

Miles slowly looked down at the wet platter soaking his blazer, then at the small pool on his desk.

Heart in his chest, Will fumbled for tissues, practically throwing himself at Miles. "I'm so sorry... fuck, I didn't mean to," he dabbed frantically at his sleeve, desk and anywhere he could reach, hands trembling.

Miles just sat there, dark eyes fixed on him. Will swallowed, avoiding the intense gaze, waiting for the snap, the shove of words that always came when Will did something wrong. Instead, Miles tilted his head, voice low and unamused.

"It's... fine."

Two words, nothing more.

"Really?" he asked, pausing his dabbing,

"It's just soda," Miles replied very matter-of-factly.

"I'm really sorry though," Will reaffirmed, casting a small smile. He ran back across the room to bring over a bottle this time, ignoring the stares he got from a certain ravenette in the opposing corner.  

He handed the bottle over, his warm fingers lingering for a few seconds,

"Yeah, it's whatever," Miles gave a short nod, looking down at Will's hand and back to his face, "thanks, I guess." He then gave no reply, returning to his phone.

Will smiled nervously, head down as he trudged back to his desk, shaken but oddly relieved. Maybe not everyone was out to bite his head off after all.

Yet when he looked back, he saw another set of eyes of him; there was one person going for his throat.

Mike Wheeler.

---- ----

Off the bus, Will's phone buzzed. He knew before even pulling it out his pocket, already realising who it was.

The text was short.

[MIKE]: bring me gum. Spearmint. Not peppermint.

Will scrunched his brows in anger, gritting his teeth. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket, mentally cursing the ravenette; he wasn't an errand boy.

[MIKE]: also bring chips.

[MIKE]: sour cream n onion.

Another text came concurrently. He tried to shove the irritation down and focus on getting home, but his phone kept going off every few minutes like a leash tightening around his neck.

[MIKE]: and a soda, I'm rather parched.

Even through the screen Will could smell the mockery emitting from the text,

Will facepalmed, quickly arriving home, changing into something casual before leaving for his job, muttering curses under his breath the entire time.

First, he stopped by the store, steps loud in the quiet aisles. Will shuffled through, his jaw tight. Gum, soda and chips, each item straining his wallet, too extravagant, and of course Mike wanted the expensive brands,

He followed orders like a trained dog.

After paying, the items entered his backpack, leaving the store and into the evening street. The neon sign of his workplace came into view, half the bulbs burnt out by months of use, yet it still had its charm.

Inside, Robin fiddled with something behind the counter while Steve sat at the café, bored out his mind, tossing a balled-up napkin into the air during his break.

Will forced a smile to both, bee-lining his way to his counter, but before he could even open his mouth, Robin spoke first, "Finally," she hissed, tugging her hair, "Your friend is insufferable. He's been asking for you like nonstop, he just never shuts up." She rolled her eyes dramatically, "I know I shouldn't hit children, but I swear I am this close." her fingers almost touched.

Will groaned, taking her place at the counter, "He is not my friend." He muttered.

"Really?" she wiggled her brows, "I thought it was your dream to be chased down by a clingy guy?"

"Shut up." His cheeks burned, "I meant that for normal guys, this one is a creep and he is a complete ASS." the last word louder than the rest.

Sudden hot breath burned against his neck, a quiet voice whispering low into his ears,

"Is that so?"

Will jumped so hard, almost falling to the ground in shock. He whipped around, eyes wide, palm grabbing his chest to see Mike standing there casually with his arms crossed. His grin stretched across his features; why did he have to be so damn close?

"Jesus!" Will's voice cracked, pulse spiking.

Mike tilted his head, feigning sadness, hand clutching his heart dramatically, "An ass?" He echoed Will's words, "and here I thought we were close."

"You weren't supposed to hear that,"

"But I did." Mike's smirk deepened, leaning in just enough to make Will feel small. His voice fell, "and now, I'm hurt."

Robin, who was still there, looked back and forth, eyes analysing their facial expressions. She was unsure exactly what to make of the situation, but all she knew was there was some tension, and she wanted no part of it. With a final look, she quietly slipped away.

Will looked over, an almost theatrical betrayal filling him, seeing her retreating form from the corner of his eyes as Mike continued,

"So, what are you gonna do to make me feel better?"

With precision, Will reached into the bottle holder of his bag, retrieving the can and holding it between them, attempting to create some space, "Soda?" his smile nervous and cheeks dusted red.

Mike stole the can, finally taking a step back to analyse the flavour, "regular cola... good, I was thinking you'd get more beetroot." He mocked.

"They didn't sell them." Will deadpanned,

"And the rest?" Mike's eyes shot up,

"In my bag," Will motioned,

Mike's hand darted out before Will even realised, giving Will a casual shove, flipping him around and pushing him against the counter.

"Hey-!" Will landed with a thud, hands catching his fall while he felt Mike messing with the zipper of his backpack,

"Relax man," Mike dismissed, already fishing inside like it were his own bag. A moment later, he pulled out the gum and chips before zipping the bag back up, "What's yours is mine."

"That's not the saying!" Will spat,

"Is it not?" Mike feigned a thoughtful expression before flipping Will back over, eyes rattling in his head. He shook the packet of chips, patting Will's back a little too hard, "You did good." He complemented.

Will glared, watching as the ravenette stepped back to a chair, obviously the closest one to Will, only so he could bark out orders and insults. He tore into the foil, throwing a chip into the air and deliberately crunching loud, the sound reverberating in Will's eardrums.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Will collapsed into his work station, pulling out a math workbook and laying it open on the desk, scribbling numbers within the square boxes. He could feel Mike's presence, every little shift and mumble.

The crunching never stopped.

Will grit his teeth, looking back at his paper. Dumb error. He made a mistake; he couldn't concentrate. Then the final chip, Mike exclaimed out loud, "I think it tastes better when I know you're the one who paid for it."

The packet finished in a matter of seconds; Will thought his torment was over. Next was the soda, Mike chugged, taking large gulps and slurred sips; it was getting on his nerves.

Pop

Then came the gum, chewing, lip-smacking and bubble blowing. Every few seconds, Mike would blow out abnormally large bouts of air, allowing it to pop once reaching its full potential.

In Will's brain, a fuse blew, exploding within, his pencil snapped, slamming the broken piece on the table with a thud. "Can you stop chewing like a camel for fuck's sake?!"

Mike froze mid-bubble, the pocket of air fizzling out as he swallowed. His brow shot up and for a second he appeared startled, but then his crooked grin spread once more, "I'm more of a stallion then a camel; give me that at least."

Will looked him up and down judgmentally, not even bothering to directly reply. Anything he could say would be curt, offensive and not something someone who was being blackmailed should utter. So instead, Will turned back to his work, grumbling inaudible, "Unbelievable,"

Merely shrugging at the words, Mike blew yet another bubble. The obnoxious popping continued, louder than before until it lost its flavour and needed a refill. He unwrapped another peice, throwing the paper haphazardly on the ground and added the gum to the collection in his mouth.

The bubbles now grew larger, more exaggerated.

Then silence.

Will thought it was over, for a few seconds there was nothing; no chewing, no popping, no nothing. It almost made Will uneasy. No matter how much he wanted Mike to pipe down with the noise, now that he actually did, it felt unnerving, as though he was plotting something.

However, Will savoured the moment, allowing the quiet before Mike switched tactics and found something else to bother him with. He didn't dare look up either, he didn't want to give any ideas.

Then, without warning, something heavy landed on Will's notebook with a loud thud, almost knocking the brunette off balance.

Will blinked, looking with suspicion, it was a workbook, and it clearly wasn't his. His gaze snapped toward the direction it came from, narrowing sharp to see the perpetrator smirking back at him,

"What the heck is this?"

"That..." he began, "needs to be done by tomorrow. Chapters eight-through-twelve."

Will's jaw hit the ground, "You're joking?"

Mike leaned forward in his chair, lazily resting his elbows on his knees, "Do I look like I'm joking?"

Will kept his tongue in check, he was two seconds away from throwing the entire workbook at Mike's smug face, binder side first. Instead, he grit his teeth, exhaling sharply through his nose and muttered with bearly concealed rage, "Fine... I just wish you hadn't thrown it at me,"

Utterly unphased, Mike blew another bubble and placed his hands behind his head, "chop, chop. Less talking, more working."

Hand twitching, Will stiffened at the words, he wanted to throttle him, to scream, but instead, he closed his notebook and opened Mike's. Anger wouldn't solve his problems. Instead, he contained himself, muttering every curse he knew under his breath.

Hunched over the desk, Will scribbled furiously, copying half the answers word-for-word from the textbook, not bothering to check whether this counted as plagiarism. Because it wasn't his work, he didn't need to worry. Also, he needed to be smart, to make sure both the handwriting looked like Mike's and was also consistent with his usual grades.

This was mentally exhausting.

His own assignments were piled high, and he had Mike's work on top of those. He didn't have the money to go to an official tutoring school; he wished he could. Rather, he brought second-hand books, ones that had already been filled in by prior students, and tried his best not to peek at the answers while he went through them.

His eyes burned and hand cramped uncomfortably; all he could see from the corner of his eyes was Mike leaning back in his chair, resting his legs up on a second chair, chewing gum and popping the bubble with his finger. Will winced, he couldn't even believe how gross that was. Who knows where those fingers have been?

Totally unhygienic.

"Having to do this stupid work for the stupid straight guy," Will mumbled under his breath, seething with heavy aggression.

"Stop bitching," Mike overheard the grumbles, "You'd get done quicker if you stopped complaining. Don't nerds like you like this sorta stuff?"

"You think I enjoy this shit?" Will spat,

"Well, kinda," Mike leaned back, "every time I see you, you're doing work... that or, the other type of reading," he whispered, winking at the last few words,

"Lower your voice!"

"Thats why I whispered it!," he giggled, finding the situation absolutely hilarious,

Will clicked his teeth, he wanted to bite back and argue, but no matter what, he needed to remain level-headed, he couldn't afford to be hasty. Will groaned and bent back over the page, words blurred together as he muttered the entire time. His pen flew across the paper, faster then ever.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Will finished, slamming the pen down before shoving the workbook off his counter and toward Mike, "There. Done. Happy?"

There was no answer at first, Mike merely glanced down at the book, turning pages and humming quietly in approval. He flipped through the notebook, giving a low whistle before snapping it shut with a grin.

"Not bad!" he smiled, holding the book up, "see, now this is teamwork,"

"Teamwork? You didn't do anything!"

Sticking his tongue out, Mike chuckled, "don't be like that! Besides its kinda impressive you pulled through. Almost cute,"

Will's eye twitched, "don't... don't call me cute,"

"What?" Mike leaned back balancing the workbook on the point of his knee, "but I thought guys like you like to be called cute,"

"Guys like me?" Will repeated,

"Yeah! Gay," he whispered the last word, making a lewd gesture with his fingers, "Consider this charity. Who else is gonna call you cute?"

Will didn't even have the energy to bite back.

With a frustrated exhale, Will slammed his forehead onto the desk with a muffled groan, ignoring that remark. He laid there for a few minutes, just wanting a little shut-eye before needing to continue with his own work.

Before he could even catch his breath, something icy pressed against the back of his neck. Will peeled his face off the wood and jumped up with a yelp,

"You've gotta be-"

Goosebumps pricked his form as he spun halfway round, only to find Mike looming over him, the words caught in his throat.

"-kidding you?" Mike cut in smooth with a smirk, looking taller in the dim lights of the internet café, "Relax man," he smiled, holding out a sweating energy drink can, "picked this up earlier."

"Huh?" Will blinked, taking in his form, he didn't like this; it was the way Mike stood over him, making him feel small, like a rat in the trap. His heart was thudding, and his cheeks blushed, he wished he didn't feel this way, "Uh... um, thanks... I guess."

Mike raised a half smile, "don't get too excited. They had a two-for-one deal," He tapped the rim with his finger, placing it onto the table before sliding back to his chair, "you just got lucky,"

Will cracked the tab open, taking a small sip to hide his face and to settle the blush dusting his cheeks. Sugar trickled down his throat, the carbonation refreshing his taste buds. He was halfway through a gulp when something clicked in his mind.

"Wait,"

He lowered the can slowly, eyes narrowing, "you went to the store... earlier?"

"Mhmm," Mike shrugged like it was obvious, "Before I came here. Needed gas."

Disbelief and fury filled him, "so..." he hissed, "you made me run across town, spend my money to get you food, when you already went out yourself?"

"Yup," Mike merely shrugged, no thought behind his eyes,

"You're sadistic,"

"Aw, come on." Mike mocked sympathy, his smirk never fading. "Don't act like you didn't enjoy the workout."

Glaring at him, Will had nothing left to say; if he said everything on his mind, it would only lead to future troubles. He swallowed his pride, merely turning away, and finishing the can.

---- ----

3087 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV -

---- Thursday ----

"Take these to the third-floor faculty room,"

"Wha- hey?!" Will barely had time to think before a box was thrust upon him, thrown in his arms, the weight forced him to stumble back a step. He gasped, peering over the top of the box. It was stuffed full of textbooks, thick binders and folders sticking out at odd angles. The sharp corner dug into his rib, "What the hell is this?"

Stretching as though he completed a difficult task, Mike casually leaned back with a smug grin, "El's stuff. She needed someone to carry it. I offered."

Will nearly dropped the box right there, "You offered?"

"Yup." Mike nodded, perfectly unbothered, "And since I'm not really the carrying type..." He gestured vaguely, "...it's your responsibility now."

Jaw hitting the ground, Will gawked behind the fortress of books, "Why would you volunteer if you had no intention of doing it?"

Fake innocence littered Mike's pout, "Because I knew you'd do it. and honestly I'm hoping you trip, I'd love to catch that on camera."

"I'm not your pack mule!" Will hissed, adjusting his grip as the weight of the box threatened to tip forward, his knuckles almost cramping white from the pain.

"Well then, I guess you could refuse," he took out his phone, tapping it against his chin, "but then, I guess that means you don't mind if your recording goes out,"

"Ugh!" Will growled in return, "fine, I'm going."

"That's the answer I wanted to hear!" Mike slung an arm over Will's shoulders, pressing him under the extra weight, "See! I'm helping,"

"Get off me! You are actively making this task harder," he staggered under the pressure before twisting out of Mike's grasp, struggling to keep the box from toppling.

Mike sighed, shaking his head with a chuckle, "So squirmy,"

Will didn't bother responding, he wanted no part of this; the faster he got away from Mike, the faster he can get back to normalcy.

"Fine. I'll leave you now." Mike shoved Will forward, almost causing him to stumble, "Run horsie, run," he shouted down the hallway before turning the corner.

Down the hall, Will trudged, each step burning his fingers, arms trembling around the massive box stacked high. His shoulders ached, every step was slow, save the bouts of energy that carried him into a short burst; he huffed and puffed.

Laughter and chatter echoed as other others were on the break, he weaved through the crowd carefully, tilting the box in ways to avoid a collision, but his line of sight was practically blocked by the folders he carried.

Then, bam,

In his haste, his box collided with the back of a taller guy, someone who Will vaguely recognised, "Watch where you're going man, jeez." His face twisted in irritation as he spilt part of his soda on his tie, "Now look what you've done,"

"Sorry," Will muttered, wanting to leave the situation and get this box out his hands. But when he tried to leave, a hand slammed the wall in front of him, effectively blocking his path,

"Where are you going? What are you gonna do about this stain?"

"I said I was sorry,"

"But sorry doesn't cut it,"

"I could dry clean it?" Will mumbled, head ducked, voice tight with nerves. He braced himself for some sort of comeback, fearing this may not be enough to get rid of this greedy guy,

He already had Mike threatening him, now this douchebag.

The guy opened his mouth to say more, arrogant more than angry; it was clear he was only doing this as show for his friends. Will's stomach twist in a familiar anxiety that came whenever a group of boys were staring directly at him.

His friends stood beside him, quiet but watching, like an audience waiting for the scene to intensify. Then a calm voice cut through the tension,

"Let it go Ian,"

The boy, Ian, hesitated, grumbling in annoyance to glance at the friend who had spoken, Miles.

Miles leaned against the locker a few feet away, a thick jumper over his school shirt, his usual unreadable expression on his face. His dark eyes flicked between Will and his friend, eerily steady, "He said sorry, what else do you want?"

For a second, Ian appeared to want to argue, but soon enough relented with a muttered curse under his breath, "Maybe I want him to pay me for damages?"

"He didn't damage anything,"

"Let me have my fun," Ian complained, yet it was clear he wouldn't continue. Part of the whole reason for this show was to prove his dominance, but if his friends didn't care, what was the point?

"Ugh whatever," Miles waved off, tone sharp and vindictive, knowing his friend too well, "have your fun then,"

Ian turned to face Will again. For a second, he looked like he wanted to sprout out some hateful words and demand compensation. His mouth opened and closed as he thought of something to say, "umm..." he started, mentally cursing himself, "Now I forgot what I was gonna say, thanks a lot Miles," his tone half-joking.

"Dumbass," Miles joked, facepalming, "just let him go before you embarrass us even more,"

Reluctantly, Ian let go, giving Will one last glance before backing off to his friends.

Will exhaled slowly, only realising how much his hands were aching from the pressure of the box. It felt even heavier now.. He caught Miles' eye only for a mere second, and mouthed him a little 'thank you,'

Miles nodded back in return before turning away, drifting back into conversation like nothing happened. His eyes seemed less harsh than usual, but Will didn't have time to dwell over that.

Will adjusted the box again, now rushing that his hands were sore. He forced his legs up the stairs, weaving past the columns with practised ease. His shoes squeaked against the polished floor as he ran, huffing-and-puffing to the faculty room.

Folders rattled as he reached the third floor, throwing himself into the classroom by shoving the door open with his shoulder. A couple of teachers bolt upright from shock, practically falling off their chairs as Will dropped the box at his homeroom teacher's desk with a sharp thud.

He didn't even bother speaking, already pivoting on his heel. His only thought was to get out and rest before he was asked to complete another task by the teachers.

On his way out, he got caught in the doorway, colliding face-first with the principal. Will stumbled back, eyes wide, blushing red. The principal took a gasp in surprise, lucky to catch himself on a drawer.

"Sorry!" Will squeaked, already side-stepping,

The principal opened his mouth to say something, but Will was gone before he could, bolting down the hallway like his life depended on it.

By the time Will rushed back down to his classroom, his lungs burned. He slowed his pace only when he stepped inside, saving face as he slid into his seat. With the back of his hand, he wiped his forehead.

His phone buzzed, Will rolled his eyes, already knowing who it was,

[MIKE]: did my pack-mule complete his delivery?

Will groaned, eye twitching. He looked back, seeing Mike across the room, phone in hand, lips tugging into a little smirk. Will forced his expression into a sarcastic smile, lifting his hand above the desk and shooting a dramatic thumbs up.

In retaliation, Mike point his own thumb down, sticking his tongue out in a little pout.

The second Mike looked back down at his phone, Will twisted in his seat, slid his hand under the desk, and flipped him off with all the pent-up rage in his body. His lips moved, pulling a discontent face when Mike wasn't looking.

After the rage dissipated, Will took a shallow breath, fixing his hair and staring down at his unlit phone, waiting for the next errand. He shuffled in his seat, resting his head on the desk

MIKE POV –

But Mike saw it.

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed the expression and gesture Will threw his way. Yet, he continued tapping away lazily at his screen.

He didn't react, not outwardly. Only after he saw Will rest his cheek on the desk, did Mike look up to watch the back of his head. Instead of calling him out, Mike allowed his gaze to linger a few moments longer, and without meaning to, his smirk softened into something genuine. It was real, quiet and unguarded.

"Who are you smiling at?"

A sudden voice cut him out his thoughts, eyes trailing up to see El, her cardigan pristine over her shirt. She stopped by his side, eyes narrowed and asking in her usual blunt tone.

"Huh?" he mumbled, blinking to recalibrate his thoughts, acting as though he was caught doing something scandalous, "oh, nothing. Just something I found funny,"

"Okay then. Show me! If it makes you smile like that it must be funny!"

"It's nothing important," he huffed in response.

"'Nothing important' my butt!" She shook her head, "that's the same smile you have whenever you find another girl to like,"

The words almost made the ravenette choke, straightening in his seat and shaking his head too quickly, "What? No. Absolutely not. You're imagining things."

El crossed her arms unconvinced, "Who's your 'conquest of the week' this time?"

"First of all, I don't have 'conquests', and secondly, I'm not some man-whore, alright? Stop acting like I collect girls like trading cards."

"How many have you been with since you started here?" she shrugged disapprovingly, answering with another question,

"That's personal!" Mike was at a loss for words.

"Proves my point," she arched a brow, "but this smile is different, but I can't put my finger on it..." she added as an afterthought.

Different?

Raising a hand to his cheeks, Mike felt slight heat emitting; he was blushing too?

"My smile is the same it always is!"

"If you say so," El perfectly transitioned into the real reason she was here, "by the way," she said casually, "did you take those folders to the faculty room?"

Mike leaned back in his chair, shifting his hands to rest lazily behind his head, "handled it," he replied simple, no detail or explanation needed.

"Phew!" she whipped her forehead dramatic, "You're a lifesaver. I didn't know how I was gonna get up all those steps," El's smile lingered a moment more before heading back to her own desk, clearly satisfied.

Mike drummed his fingers lightly against the table; he couldn't tell her exactly how it got to the third floor, but at least it was done. His mind drifted back to El's earlier words; his smile was not different, not at all.

The only reason he was amused was because of the control he had over Will. It sent a thrill of euphoria through him. Perhaps it was the way Will tried to hide his hate under a nervous smile? It was oddly adorable, like a kitten backed up by a scary pitbull terrier.

A smile tugged his lips as he suddenly thought of an errand; his thumbs hovered over the keyboard of his phone. What could he make Will do this time? Something annoying, something ridiculous... something that would make him squirm.

He looked up.

With a small, amused huff, Mike allowed his fingers to hit the screen, the glow lighting up as he thought of just the right command.

In a matter of seconds he sent the text, and the next moment, Will was already on his feet and out the room.

WILL POV –

---- Friday ----

Defeated from the week, Will settled on the bus home, the only time he had away from the constant commands. Seats gradually filled around him as he plugged in his earphones. Days blurred into one, school, errands and then work. Then, his phone buzzed, there it was, another errand.

[MIKE]: get me a history textbook, I lost mine.

[MIKE]: now.

With a groan, Will yanked the cords out his ears, trudging past the incoming passengers and stumbling back off the bus. The driver shot him a confused look but didn't question it as the door shut behind him.

It was typical of Mike to do something like this, texting at the last possible moment; almost as though he wanted to make Will's life harder for no reason at all.

Air hit his face. The school gate looming ahead, half empty, filled only with students in afterschool clubs. Will pulled his bag tighter against his shoulder with a yawn. He took his time; his bus was already gone and wouldn't return for another half-hour.

The library was nearly deserted at the time, only the librarian humming to herself as she stacked a cart of returns. Will walked through, heading straight for the packaged textbooks, finger skimming the spines until he found the exact one Mike wanted.

"History, History..." he mumbled, finally spotting it.

Inches away from the new textbook, Will reached for it, when, out of nowhere, another hand swooped in and plucked it clean off the shelf.

"Hey!" Will grabbed the edge of the book, stopping the man in his spot. He was tall, broad-shouldered with curly hair that fell in front of his eyes. It was the last copy, and he had just casually stolen it away.

"What?" the stranger raised a brow,

"That's the last copy! I need it," Will demanded, trying to be assertive, though his stomach twisted, not from fear, but from the fact that failing this task meant unknown consequences.

"We don't need anything in life," the boy calmly advised,

Dead-eyed stare. Will scrunched his face, hating this philosophical type of thinking, it was clear the boy was only trying to be insufferable rather than to make a genuine statement of life. He took a deep breath not to verbally attack him, "Just give me the book."

"I got it first, so it's mine,"

"I need it for class,"

"So do I." the boy snatched the book back and advanced toward the counter. Just like that, he paid the librarian, sliding the book under his arm and leaving without another word.

Will stood frozen, watching him leave, chest tightening with panic.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, approaching the front desk, leaning on it with a winning smile, "Um, excuse me? Are any more of those history books in storage? That was the last one on the shelf."

The librarian smiled, sitting at her desk and typing rhythmically on the keyboard. After a few seconds, her smile shifted sympathetic, shaking her head, "Sorry, honey. We won't get a new shipment till Monday, and even then, it's not guaranteed,"

Will sighed, thanking her with a sullen expression, his stomach dropped; that was three days away. Will didn't know what to do. He was sure Mike wouldn't simply understand the issue, what if he threatened him? or worse, released the recording?

He could already hear Mike's voice,

"You couldn't get one thing I asked you to? Pathetic."

"it's a shame. And you were doing so well."

"Too bad everyone's gonna know you're a homo."

His frowned deepened as he stumbled out the library and down the hall, slowly, head low and feet dragging across the floor. He was taking his time, phone buzzing in his pocket, knowing Mike was growing impatient wherever he was.

Down the stairs, he made his way out the front entrance.

His heart nearly stopped; there was Mike.

Waiting.

Leaning against his bike like he had been there hours, Mike's arms were folded, and he held his helmet under his arm, tapping his foot up and down impatiently. His dark eyes flicked up immediately, a smirk lighting up his features.

"There you are, mule!" Mike chuckled, voice booming sarcastic, "Took ya long enough."

Will took a deep breath as he approached, forcing a nervous smile and sweet voice, "Uh... hey Micheal,"

"Where's my book?" Mike ignored him.

Tone softer than usual, trying to suck up as best he could, Will replied, "I, um... well you see, there was only one copy left, but someone else grabbed it before I could,"

Mike tilted his head, watching intensely as Will rummaged through his backpack and pulled out an old textbook; he wondered what Will was doing, waiting for what may happen next.

"So... here," he pulled out his own textbook. The corners were frayed, but he shoved it gently into Mike's chest, "Take mine. You probably need it more than me,"

"Was that an insult?"

"No! I didn't mean it like- like that," Will stammered, pushing the book forward, "I just meant that you asked for it so this is the best I can do,"

Mike glanced at the textbook yet didn't dare reach for it. His expression was unreadable at first, though his eyes softened just a tad, filling with something warm, something different from normal. After a moment, he ripped his eyes away as he hummed,

"You know what?" Mike finally spoke, his tone lazy despite his obvious softness, "I actually believe your little story, and since I'm such a merciful guy, I'll let you keep your book. Just make sure you grab me one on Monday. Got it?"

That wasn't the reaction Will expected.

Stunned, Will nodded, relief filling his every pore. He clutched the book tighter against his chest, "Oh. Um sure, I'll do that. Thanks."

"Good," Mike replied, his smirk widening. Then, without warning, he leaned down, approaching Will's height and reached out to pat his cheek, gentle, but firm enough to sting Will's pride, "See? I can be nice,"

Turning red, Will stiffened, his core heating up from the contact but he didn't resist neither swat the hand away. He just grimaced, knowing any reaction would only fuel Mike's ego.

Mike chuckled, and in one smooth motion he placed his helmet over Will's head, adjusting the strap with irritating precision as though he had done this multiple times before.

Under the visor, Will's eyes widened, confused by the situation, "Wait? What are you doing?"

"We're both going to your job. Might as well take you there."

"And where's your helmet?"

"I only have the one,"

"What? Are you stupid?!" he grabbed the strap of the visor, struggling to unhook the belt. How could he do something so dumb? It didn't make sense to Will... and why did he even care? Will hated caring for the man who blackmailed him, "you should at least have two! Especially if you're planning to take people on rides. And anyways, you should always have one as backup at the every least. What if you crash or-"

Mike almost froze. Why did Will care? Normally, no one cared this much, not about him at least; not even his parents cared about him. Girls only liked him cause of his face, and guys liked him cause of his money. So why did Will, the boy he blackmail, care about his safety?

But, to keep up his appearance, he maintained his usual bravado, not even hearing as Will was still lecturing him on road safety and the importance of helmets. The situation was only exacerbated by Will's struggle to remove the helmet from his head.

It was oddly cute in a way.

"Aww! You care about me? How sweet. I'm touched." Mike cut him off, teasing him as he helped pull the helmet off Will's head, "Besides, having only one helmet is a great flirting move, Chicks go crazy for it."

"That's not funny or smart. Who would even fall for such a thing?"

"Simple. It makes her feel as though her wellbeing is more important than mine... and then, she becomes putty in my hand."

"Gross." Will pushed back, spinning on his heels and walking away, textbook clutched tight to his chest,

"You're serious?" Mike called after him, his smirk slipping. "You're really turning down a free ride? I don't just offer these to anyone, you know."

Will didn't bother replying, anything he said, could and would be used against him. His steps didn't slow, walking back to the front gate, not daring to look back, not even when he heard Mike's familiar laughter.

Behind him, Mike watched as Will's silhouette got further from view, his messy hair from the helmet Mike forced upon him bobbing further and further out the school gates. A coy smile painted Mike's lips before catching himself, shaking his head and getting on his bike.

It didn't matter if Will walked off. He would just see Will in the evening.

And tomorrow,

And the day after that.

---- ----

3273 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

EL POV -

---- Monday ----

Ninety-four percent.

El sat at her desk, eyes locked on the red number plastered at the top of her exam.

The bell had just rung, signalling the end of class, but El couldn't peel her eyes away.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, clutching the exam tighter under the grip, failing to realise when it crumpled slightly at the edges. She didn't bother soothing the pages out, merely glancing across the room.

Failure.

The word rang in her head like a monotonous drum.

Beside her sat Will, the quiet, sweet boy who was here on a scholarship. She heard him talk to his friends, but their words dull in El's ears, she could barely make sense of who was talking.

El's chest tightened, reading his paper.

Ninety-six.

Two points higher than her. Two points higher to perfection. She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter, that she was still far ahead the rest of the class, but her stomach twisted at the thought that Will of all people had beaten her.

From the class files she saw on him, she knew he wasn't well off, he didn't have the expensive tutoring classes, nor the privilege of college lecturers coming to teach him as she did. He didn't have any of it.

So why was he better than her?

Her eyes studied him, the way his friends cheered him on, patting his back and shaking him like a soda can; he didn't seem phased by the grade, like he was happy with whatever he got.

Tips of her nails bit into skin as she straightened in her seat, forcing herself to keep composure. For a moment, something sharp and unpleasant curdled deep within.

Envy.

She hated this feeling. Hated the way her stomach twisted with something so ugly when Will was just himself. He was nice to her and everyone. He wasn't the type to gloat or rub it in her face unlike the other students in the school. He never looked at her like competition, nor a piece of meat, or means to an end.

Blame could only be placed on herself, she hated herself for not being able to beat the 'poor kid'. For showing a moment of weakness. She had helped Will in the exam, showed him the equation to an answer.

She was slipping.

Her Papa's voice echoed in the confines of her mind, sharp and commanding as ever, but with a sweet undertone to keep her in check.

'Second place is failure; perfection is the only thing worth chasing Elanor.'

With so many siblings, El was constantly kept under lock-and-key. Every single one of them were measured, ranked, and dealt with accordingly. Their whole life was a contest, and if they weren't number one, then it was better not to exist at all.

Papa made sure of that. El could remember the sensation of being locked all alone in that dark closet where the 'underperformers' would go; she would hit and bang the door until her palms bruised, but no one ever came. She shuddered what may happen if her Papa discovered that a 'poor kid' had beaten her.

Memories filled her brain, unpleasant and putrid, squeezing her chest tight. She pressed her palm to her forehead, feeling lightheaded. Heat shifted, liquid filled her nose, threatening to spill,

Nosebleed.

Nobody could know.

Quickly, El excused herself, covering the stain above her upper lip. Relief washed over as she left the class seeing that no one noticed. She entered the bathroom, needing air, and some solace.

With a little sigh, she tilted her head upwards.

Her bloodied reflection stared back at her, trembling slightly, hating what she saw. Anger filled her every pore, feeling the urge to crack the mirror just to feel something.

El sighed, she heeded her Papa's words... she needed to take Will down.

WILL POV -

Will leaned back in his chair, watching his friends complain about their grades, fighting over the answers and demanding a 're-mark' so they could do better. He chimed in here and there, enough to keep appearances; somehow, miraculously, he had gained a ninety-six percentage in maths.

That was his worst subject.

He shook his head with a little sigh, not wanting to think about his exams, being too prideful was always his downfall. Just like when he entered this private school, he was prideful that he could escape bullies and pretend to be normal.

It worked... well, for a little while.

Now he had a perpetual leech,

Mike sat at the back of the class, watching, sometimes playing on his phone in the middle of class, or straight-up listening to music. Will didn't want to sound narcissistic, but he forever felt eyes piercing into the back of his head. Of course, when he looked back, he saw Mike smirking or mouthing something un-intelligent.

Yet, Will had a task to do right now. The history book.

The book burned a hole in Will's backpack. He dragged himself out of bed early that morning just so he could be first in line for the school library. Usually, he savoured those few minutes of sleep he had, but Mike already gave him one chance, and who knew how long that generosity could last.

The tasks over the weekend were normal, buying snacks, completing homework, cleaning after him and giving him free computer access at the internet café.

So much of his time and money were being wasted.

Before the next teacher arrived, Will rose, fixing his hair and retrieving the History book from his bag, still in it's plastic wrapping. He made his way to the back of the class, and with both hands, held the book out to Mike who merely stared back in amusement,

"Huh?!" Mike looked up from his phone with a furrowed brow, he chuckled, "Well, I guess your strong suit isn't next day delivery?"

"Can you just take it?" Will groaned, tossing the book down with a quiet thud, "Why do you even need a workbook? You never study anyways,"

"You think so little of me," Mike merely glanced at the pages, lazily flipping through,

"Much less then you think,"

Shutting the book with a little snap, Mike's smile widened, his voice turning into a whisper for Will alone, "You know... if you're gonna keep serving me like this, you might wanna show me some respect,"

"I don't respect you at all,"

"You can start by calling me something more fitting than my name. 'Master,' maybe. Ooh! Or 'sir.'" Mike ignored Will's whining, "Or hell I'd even take anything else you want"

...

"How about 'dumb bitch'?" Will scrunched his face. He could only stand there, arms crossed as he judged, looking the ravenette up and down.

"You have such a potty mouth when you're around me." Mike feigned hurt, unable to hide his smirk, "You never speak like this to anyone else,"

"You make my blood pressure rise, that's why."

"So you're saying I make your heart flutter?" Mike cooed, loving to tease Will, he could say whatever he wanted to Will and suffer no consequence. Besides, Mike didn't mean anything when he said stuff like this. The look on Will's face was worth it, sometimes he'd blush while other times he'd get angry.

Mike just liked seeing Will's reactions... that was all.

"I'm saying you're giving me heart palpitations," Will mumbled, having nothing else to say. He passed a little eyeroll upon turning around, stepping back toward his desk before he said something in rage. He shook his head slowly, muttering curses under his breath.

"Where are you going? Come back," Mike called after him dryly, knowing Will wouldn't return any time soon. Carelessly leaning back in his chair, Mike looked like a cat who found a new way to toy with his mouse. 

And in a weird way, he wanted his mouse to make another move.

---- ----

Cool air hit their face as the final bell of the day rang. Will strolled out the door with his friends, cutting cross campus, gossip floating around like a waft of smoke.

He was overworked; his day went, school, study and work, all while dealing with Mike and his insistent commandments. He yawned,

Will was walking along Dustin and Lucas, his bag slung over his shoulder, relieved the day was finally over.

"I need to find a new barber," Dustin started, "Mine's turned out to be a money laundering front,"

"H-how?" Will turned with furrowed brows,

"Yeah, man. Police shut it down halfway through my haircut," Dustin groaned, shaking his head in Will's face, "I had to finish cutting it myself."

"Really? Couldn't even tell," Will hummed as he analysed his curly hair, touching the strands to see their length with a downwards smile, nodding up and down in approval.

"Thanks, I did it with safety scissors,"

"Impressive...?" Will's was more confused by that statement, "Wait, why- why safety scissors?"

"For safety of course," Dustin replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

"Maybe you should go bald." Lucas, who was quiet this whole conversation butt in, biting back an infectious chuckle, causing Will to do the same.

Dustin turned his attention, "Maybe I should come to your barbers then, who cuts your hair Lucas?"

 Almost immediately Lucas warned, "You are not coming to my barbers'."

"Gatekeeper." Dustin shook his head, "How about you, Will?"

"My mom?" he said blunt,

Surprised by the revelation, Dustin opened his mouth to follow up, but his jaw hung when a sudden arm slipped through Will's.

The conversation was cut short.

A lump caught in Will's throat, what was this now? Startled, he slowly turned his head and found El staring back, her grip surprisingly firm. Her expression was calm, but her eyes held such determination that it almost knocked Will to the ground,

"Hey Will," Her tone soft and inviting, "Will you study with me today?"

Yet, there was something off about her expression. Her eyes were wide and slightly manic, as if it were the first time she had ever smiled in her life. Even her grip was scarily strong.

Lucas and Dustin immediately stopped in their tracks. Collectively, they exchanged looks, ones they had anytime Will talked to any girl, especially El. Will noticed their eyes, and he knew exactly what they were thinking.

Romance.

However, this was not a romance story, Will just wanted them to understand that. Though he feared the truth would lead to questions he didn't wish to answer, and so, he went along with it, allowing them to think he liked girls, it was easier than the reality.

That he liked guys.

"Oooooooh." The boys cooed in unison, giggling like preschoolers.

"Shut up guys!" Will groaned, rolling his eyes hard enough to hit the back of his head, his cheeks tinted red, and what they mistook for romantic blushes, was rather perpetual embarrassment.

"Sure thing dude." Lucas took no offence to his words as Dustin continued,

"This is huge. Our boy is finally growing up,"

Will hesitated for a second, wondering if this was even worth it.

"Say yes, dude," Lucas urged. "Don't blow this!"

With everyone watching, and El clinging onto his arm, there didn't seem to be any way out. Nothing he could say would pull him out of this situation, so reluctantly he turned to El with a smile, "sure thing El, I'd love to study," a little awkward, a little nervous.

"Awesome! Now don't overthink it," Dustin added, grinning ear to ear. "You'll thank us later." He winked before finally jogging off with Lucas by his side, leaving El and Will standing awkwardly in the courtyard as the surrounding crowd thinned.

For a moment neither of them said anything. The sounds of other students cluttered the background. Will shifted on his feet, glancing at El who still didn't let go of his arm,

"What was that all about?" she broke the ice,

"Umm... I think it's better if you didn't know," Will mumbled, scratching back of his neck with his free hand. But in that moment, a thought popped into his head; he still had work!

His stomach twisted. He couldn't exactly just blurt that out; technically it was against school rules to be working in the first place. If El, the class president knew, then she would repeat it before the day was even over. He swallowed forcing a smile.

"Actually El, let me just check if I'm free,"

"Aww. Are you busy?" El's eyes shifted to disappointment immediately, hiding her annoyance behind a facade.

"Actually, um...." Will started, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, he couldn't really explain, "It's just that I had something else to do.... but, I'll just check," he pulled his phone out, quickly shooting a text to Robin.

He'd never cancelled on work before, but his reputation was on the line. If he said no to El of all people, who knows what others would say.

Robin text back almost immediately,

[ROBIN]: yh, you can hav the day off

[ROBIN]: why tho? R u sick?

Will smiled, grateful for the day off, but not wanting her to be worried about him for no reason, he immediately texted back, telling her he was merely studying with a girl he barely knew,

For a second Robin seemed elated, thankful he was finally doing something outside for work, but after his text he could hear her groan through the screen. In response Robin sent a plethora of emojis, laughing at him, expecting nothing else,

[ROBIN]: LMAO that's so you. go, go, don't worry, ill cover.

Sighing in relief, Will slipped his phone back in his pocket, "never mind," he quickly turned back to El, straightening up, "I'm free,"

El's disappointment fizzled instantly, replaced by something bright and a little too eager, she tightened her hold on his arm, tugging him forward with surprising strength,

Students surrounded, leaving the campus with collective chatter. The sidewalk was littered with kids making their way home, and cars driving on the road just inches away. They walked past without a care in the world.

"Yo!" a shadowed figure called from behind them, causing the pair to jump in surprise.

That whiny, shrill tone was familiar, Will recognised it; It was undoubtedly Mike.

Leaning against his motorcycle, which was parked half on the curb like he owned the place, Mike tilted his head, his helmet dangling from one handlebar. He propped himself lazily against the seat, one boot kicked up.

"What are you doing here?" El furrowed a brow,

"Waiting." Mike didn't bother explaining, "what are you guys doing... together?"

Will's throat when dry, opening his mouth to explain, but El spoke first, calm and unbothered, "we're going to study."

For a second Mike looked genuinely confused, like his two worlds colliding. Then his grin sharpened, eyes sliding to Will, holding him in his stare, "Ew, bunch a nerds," his tone was teasing, but held an undercurrent of conflicting emotion, "And aren't you two nerds adorable together?" His smile amused in a whisper.

He knew what he was doing. Mike had heard Will's friends talk about Will's hidden 'crush' on El, and Mike found the notion extremely hilarious; he too was eager to add to it just to see Will scoff and have to play along. But it left him with questions; that logic meant that Will's friends didn't know he was gay, so it made him think... did anyone?

Will tried not to squirm under that look, tugging on the arm interlocked with El's. She may not look it, but she was strong, her arm didn't budge, oblivious to the tension drumming in the air, or genuinely not caring.

"Do you want to join us?" El questioned soft, yet secretly hoping he'd say no as per usual.

"No, no, no, don't let me interrupt," Mike tilted his head jokingly, gaze darting between the arms and Will's face, saving a mental picture,

"Aww! That's too bad. Let's go Will," El butt in, tugging him down a few inches, but even as they walked, Will could still feel it, the intense burn of Mike's stare on the back of his neck.

Then, suddenly, El stopped mid-step, her eyes lighting up as if she'd just discovered something brilliant. She spun toward him, eyes full and glimmering in the afternoon sun, she let go of his interlocked arms, instead grabbing him by both the shoulders, shaking him with a bright smile.

"I just had an idea," she said with quiet excitement, "what if... we meet back here in twenty minutes? That way we can both go home and change into something more comfortable before studying."

"Why?" he was caught off guard by the sudden request.

"I just find it easier to study when I'm comfortable," she nodded completely serious. There was no hesitation or shyness in her voice, just the same determination she always had when it came from school, "I'm sure you're the same,"

Yet Will couldn't see the plan behind her eyes.

"Uh sure?" the statement sounded more like a question. In all honestly Will didn't see the point, but watching how excited she was, he couldn't help but smile in the face of her hopeful expression.

"Good!" El nodded satisfied, then letting go of his shoulders with a little shake. She turned on her heels with a wave and headed toward the black car waiting just down the curb. Her chauffeur stepped out, opening the back door for her. El slid inside with a grin, but the second she entered, her mask slipped, hidden behind the tinted windows.

Will stood awkwardly on the sidewalk, watching as the car pulled into traffic. Only now had he realised how wildly different their worlds were; she had chauffeurs and time to study, her life was polished like a pearl. Meanwhile, he was juggling shifts at the internet café and keeping Mike from ruining his life.

"Twenty minutes," he mumbled to himself, watching the car disappear from view; he looked down at his clothes,

Still standing at his bike, Mike hadn't moved from where he was leaning, arms crossed. He'd watched the whole interaction, his unreadable expression carrying a slight smirk; he noticed Will was just standing there, all alone.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for your study date?" he asked, emphasising the last word to cut Will out his thoughts,

"Stop that."

"Stop what? i'm just saying it's a study date." Mike faked a pout to appear innocent, but not even waiting before he asked another question, "So are you just gonna stand here like a lost child?"

"Ugh, You're so nosy." Will's voice carried quiet annoyance, shifting his weight on his legs, walking toward him and against the wall, "but if you must know, I wouldn't be able to get home and back in time even if I took a taxi. It's not worth it,"

"What if I gave you a ride on my bike?"

"How many times must I tell you? I'm not gonna sit on that deathtrap," the answer came out blunt, too honest.

Mike rolled his eyes, a noise emanating from his throat, something between a chuckle and a hum, like he found Will's situation almost comical without stating it outright.

Groaning softly, Will leaned his back against the thick brick wall of the school gates, lowering his bag to the side beside him. He let his head fall back, sighing dramatically, dragging the breath out like a sulking kid. His sigh was exaggerated, almost theatrical as he puffed his cheeks, allowing them to deflate slowly,

"You're so dramatic. You should do theatre. Gay guys do great in there." Mike raised his brow with interest, teasing tone emitting on his tongue,

Will stiffened his upper lip, "shut up."

Mike didn't. He shifted his weight, pushing off his bike, still eying Will with that calm yet cocky stare, however there was something more behind his irises. Without a word, he tugged his hoodie off in one smooth motion, tossing it in Will's direction without even bothering to check where it fell.

It landed square on Will's face.

"Huh?" Will peeled it off with both hands. His once carefully combed hair sticked out in messy tufts, ends pointing in different directions, and a few strands covered his eyes. He shot Mike a glare, cheeks red as the ravenette broke into hearty laughter.

"You need something to wear, don't you?" Mike simply stated like it was the most logical thing in the world.

Will analysed the hoodie, eyes almost jumping in his socket when he saw the label. A name brand; undoubtedly expensive. Half of Will's closet probably costed the same as this hoodie.

Without another word, Will shoved the hoodie back. "I don't want it." He shook his head, patting uselessly at his hair to try and tame it again. "Besides, I'd be too hot anyway. I'm already wearing a jumper, shirt, and a vest under this."

"Why the fuck are you wearing so many layers?"

"I like it cold?" Will shrugged, "besides its only gonna be like an hour or two."

"Oh, you naïve little dumbass," Mike tapped Will's cheek, slapping a little stronger with each word, not enough to be painful, but enough to be felt.

"Seems unnecessary," Will grumbled at the comment and the physicallity,

"You know El will be studying till at least ten-pm,"

"What?!" Will's eyes widened, "No she won't."

Mike didn't even give Will a chance to react. One second, he was standing there, processing the time he would be studying for, the next second, Mike took hold of his arm, dragging him back into the building with surprising strength,

Why did people think he was a radgoll today?

Will barely managed to grab his backpack, stumbling to keep up with the tall boy leading him astray, "where the hell are you taking me?"

"To change," Mike said flat, not even slowing, nor explaining.

Will spat out questions, but his protest fell on deaf ears as he was pulled further into the building until he was shoved into the empty locker room. The door swung shut behind them, leaving a quiet slam.

Only then, Mike let go of his arm, gesturing to the rows of lockers,

"Alright then, change."

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3579 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV -

---- ----

"What?" Will blinked, utterly bewildered.

"Change." Mike merely repeated as if it were obvious. He tossed the hoodie onto the nearest bench with crossed arms, leaning against the locker with a cocky smirk, "I don't care what you dress like, but El asked you to change so... change,"

Will glared, "You really dragged me all the way here... for this?" His voice cracking in outrage and disbelief, "You can't just order me to change my clothes."

"Yes, I can," Mike cut off smoothly, stepping closer to intimidate, "I can order you to do anything I want, remember?" he paused, "I think there's a little video which says I can,"

"You wouldn't." Will's eyes widened in panic, "not over some clothes."

"Wanna test me?"

Audibly groaning, Will marched toward the benches, grabbing the hoodie in frustration, "Fine! But turn around."

That made Mike laugh, a sound that bounced off the empty room. "Why? You're the gay one. If anything, I'm the one in danger here." He tapped his chest with mocking seriousness. "I should be worried you'll take advantage of me."

"You're such an asshole."

"Fine. Prude." Mike sarcastically sighed, taking a seat on the bench facing away from Will, "For your information, some gay guys would kill to undress in front of me. You should be honoured,"

Will shot a glare, pausing as he removed his tie, "you're disgusting," he huffed, muttering under his breath the entire time. First, he removed his blazer, then jumper and finally his shirt, each button coming undone slowly,

He ripped off the shirt, replacing it with the hoodie Mike had given him, yanking it down hard like he could choke the humiliation out of himself. With a little sigh he shook his body, fixing his messy hair with his fingers.

"There. Happy? I changed."

Immediately, Mike turned around, mouth open to say something, but paused mid-way. For a moment he didn't answer, merely dragging his eyes over Will slowly, taking in the sight of Will in his oversized hoodie.

Pricks stabbed his skin. Will rubbed his arms, tugging his sleeves nervously, "...What?"

Mike didn't blink, standing there while staring just a moment too long. Then finally, he gave the smallest smirk, nodding with a little hum, clearing his throat,

"Nothing," he crossed his arms, his gaze penetrative, "just suits ya better than I thought."

Mike advanced closer, causing Will's back to hit the lockers with a little metallic ping. He reached out suddenly, fingers brushing lightly to fix a strand of hair that Will had missed. The touch was casual yet unusually soft, but it lingered just a tad longer than it should have.

Will froze, not daring to look at Mike's eyes, he wanted to swat the hand away or snap at him, but instead he stood there, a soft pink hue painting his cheeks at the proximity. He locked his eyes on the ground, blocking out the situation.

Mike didn't comment, instead he continued 'fixing' Will's outfit. He caught Will's wrist, tugging his arms out of the oversized sleeve, rolling the fabric up and past his elbow with practised ease. The motion felt oddly more intimate than it appeared,

"I could have done that myself," Will mumbled barely audible.

"Yeah but you didn't," Mike countered, doing the same for the other sleeve, neat and practised, "if you're gonna wear my clothes, then you gotta do them a service at least," he paused, "but you'll never look better than me no matter what you wear,"

Moment ruined.

The temporary bubble popped, Will snapped back to the situation, maintaining control, the blush draining from his face, remembering exactly who was doing the action, "ugh, let me go." He pulled his arm back, slipping out from the lockers and toward the front door, "I'm leaving now."

The soles of his shoes squeaked faintly against the tile as he pushed it open, grateful for the rush of cool air from the hallway,

"Hey, where are you going?" Mike called after him with a chuckle, "I'm still dressing you," his long legs catching up within seconds, "Barbie-dolls aren't supposed to run away,"

"Barbie?"

"Yeah, Barbie." Mike smiled, proud of himself, "I'm sure you know all about them,"

Sombrely, Will smiled with a sullen look in his eyes, "I didn't," his answer was curt, not bothering to explain how his father had broken and thrown out his 'feminine' toys, including figurines, plushies and anything pink.

Eyes flicked toward him; for once, Mike held his tongue. He wanted to tease or pry further, but for some reason, he didn't feel it was appropriate. He felt something in his chest, sympathy, or perhaps heartburn.

"I had Barbie dolls." Mike filled the void, admitting casually as he tucked his hands in his pants.

"You... had barbie dolls?"

"Well, they were my sisters', but I played with them occasionally," he added, "we even had the dream house, car, resort, plus all her sisters,"

"Whoa..." Will seemed in awe, continuing, "I bet your parents hated you playing with them,"

Mike's shoulders slouched, "Nah. They didn't care at all. Dad was too busy with his job, and my mom only focused on my big sister," his face a mask, "it didn't matter if I was smashing Hot Wheels or marrying Barbie and Ken."

"Oh," he admitted quietly, almost under his breath. What could he even say to that? Did he comfort Mike, or was this something he wouldn't want to talk about?

Will thought back to his past, how he was too scared to even play with toys that had a hint of pink, and didn't dare watch a cartoon with a female main character.

Everything he did was watched, monitored or commented upon, whether it was bullies, or his own family, specifically his father. His happiness was wrong, the way he expressed himself was dumb and who he was wrong.

'Why do you dress that way?'

'Why do you act that way?'

'Why aren't you just like me?'

Mike didn't notice the shift, or maybe he simply didn't care, "yeah, well, it helped that we were loaded," he smirked bitter, though he wasn't boasting like usual, "we got whatever toy we wanted. And if it broke, a new one showed up the next day,"

"Sounds like fun..." Will mumbled. His mind drifted, thinking of his toys growing up, second-hand or off-brand toys that barely worked. His mother tried her best to give him what he wanted, but money held her down, and his father didn't even pretend to care.

"El was obsessed with them when she was little. She used to sneak out to play with the dream house all day and refused to go home. She used to throw so many fits." He paused, "she once bit me!"

"You knew each other since you were kids?" Will asked, voice sharp to ask his question before he forgot. Upon seeing him nod, Will asked yet another question, "so like... what's the deal with you and El anyways? Do you guys have like an open relationship?" he bit his tongue for asking such a dumb question.

Familiar smugness filled Mike's features, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, "Curious, aren't you?" he chuckled, "but do you really think that question is appropriate?"

Will glared, it was a simple yes-or-no question and yet even then Mike refused to give an answer just to infuriate him. Will grumbled, "whatever,"

Quiet enveloped them as they pushed the open doors and back into the late afternoon air. It was a little darker now, a breeze filling the courtyard. Will crossed his arms, walking a little behind Mike, not wanting to walk beside him. For a moment there was nothing.

Finally Will let out a frustrated groan, smelling a strong odor all around him; what was it? it didn't smell like this before. He grabbed the neck of the hoodie, inhaling the scent; there it was, "Ugh. This thing reeks." He immediately pulled it away from his nose, "how much do you smoke for it to smell this much?"

Mike turned his head, watching him make a fuss over some smells, "you're welcome by the way," he shook his head, "I give you a high quality hoodie to wear, and you bitch about the smell. I bet you've never worn anything that expensive before,"

Like being punched in the gut, Will couldn't refuse, Mike was right. He looked down, should he be grateful for this? Once more, he huffed, leaning on the gate wall as though he had never moved in the first place.

Without warning, Will dug into his bag, pulling out a small spray and began spritzing himself. A cloud of sweet mist surrounded the pair.

Mike coughed, recoiling, waving a hand to cover his mouth, "what the hell are you doing?"

"Fixing the smell you dumped on me," Will half-glanced, speaking very matter-of-factly, giving his collar one last spray before snapping the cap shut.

Wrinkling his nose dramatically, Mike pinched his nose as though this was some sort of airborne virus, "you're gonna gay-up my hoodie with that crap,"

"don't say that!" Will growled at the choice of words, "and its vanilla,"

"of course it is," Mike shook his head, covering his mouth with the collar of his shirt, "I can taste it on my tongue. It tastes like birthday cake." He coughed,

"Maybe you're not used to nice smells because you smell like an ashtray?"

"you know it's funny," Mike retorted, "I thought you'd smell more like a fruitcake than birthday cake.'

"You know what Michael-" Will's voice was cut off by El who returned exactly on time, her chauffeur pulling up just outside the gates. She stepped out, her uniform now replaced by a plain white jumpsuit complimented with sleek jewellery, having that effortless beauty.

"Ready to go?"

Her hair was neatly brushed, a necklace in the shape of a bow around her neck and a singular bracelet on her wrist. Will recognised the brand, it was something his mother talked about but could never afford to buy. He almost recoiled at the sight of her perfection.

Instead, he ignored Mike, walking toward her with a small smile, leaving a cloud of vanilla in his wake. He didn't even bother to say goodbye.

"Still here?" El noticed Mike, tilting her head toward him, "Last chance to join us."

"No thanks," Mike let out an air of a chuckle as if this was some sort of joke.

"Aww, that's too bad," her voice was sweet but relieved he wouldn't be coming along; she usually begged Mike to come with her, but not today, "see you next time then," she added before hooking an arm once more around Will's.

El led him down the street and round the corner, further and further away from the school. The journey wasn't long but the destination made Will's jaw hit the ground; a tall ivy covered courthouse filled his sights, towering over them, its tall arches and carved wooden doors gave it the impression of a grand manor rather than a library.

Inside, it was different than he expected, it wasn't some public library he was used to, it was like the air had changed. Polished floors, glass walls, sleek light fixtures, and even a water feature in the lobby. Will was in awe, feeling slightly undressed in Mike's oversized hoodie.

The place was unmistakably exclusive, attendants sharply dressed, stationed in designated spots, with even security at the front door.

"El..." Will started,

Leading him further, El tugged him toward the front desk, leaving no room for arguments. She gave her name at the counter, the staff smiling warmly at her, essentially kissing the ground she walked on. El paid no mind, merely swiping her membership card before being let through, Will by her side.

They passed rounds-and-rounds of students, some Will recognised from school; this was undoubtedly a rich kid haven. They walked through rows of books, ending up in a soundproof study room, quaint, yet perfect for studying. Glass walls caged them in, overlooking the main hall, soft golden light spilling from the ceiling.

"Woah!" Will muttered, setting his bag down with utmost care, almost afraid he may break the furniture, "you come here often?"

"My father insists," perfectly sitting in her desk as though she had done this million times before, but her eyes held an undercurrent of sharpness, "he says studying is serious buisness,"

Will looked all around like this was his first time in a building, "guess it worked. You're always top of the class,"

Her expression soured but she hid it with her usual smile, "not always," she muttered, seething with rage before clearing her throat, "anyways, let's start with maths, you're good at maths, aren't you?" her edge sharp as she remembered the points he beat her by.

Will rubbed the back of his neck, a little flustered, "Not really... you're so much better than me," he gave a sheepish smile upon unzipping his back.

El's smile didn't father, though inside she was fuming. To her he was merely 'acting' modest. Papa's voice echoed in her mind, reminding her to be better than everyone else, no matter the cost. And here was Will, a gentle poor boy sitting across the table with HER highest grade.

She tutt, opening her book.

EL POV -

---- ----

Question, Answer, Consolidate.

The monotonous cycle continued for hours, first Maths, History, then English, and now Science,

Will hunched over his books, sleeves rolled all the way up to his shoulders, pencil scribbling furiously, the illegible scribbles only making sense to himself. El, on the other hand, sat poised, back straight, handwriting cursive, eyes darting to Will's workbook more than her own pristine one.

She saw it, the way his workbook was second-hand. Words written all over, some in red, blue and purple, but an overall mess, filled with writing from a prior student. She didn't understand how someone with workbooks like that, beat her.

"You should flip the formula here," she spoke out before even realising she was speaking. That was incorrect, and she knew that. Leaning over to circle something in Will's notes, her tone was casual, yet her mind was a twisted cacophony.

Did she really do that?

She just sabotaged him. If Will heeded her words, he'd stumble, hitting a brick wall and lose marks. Maybe then she could reclaim the top spot that was rightfully hers.

His eyes lit up as if menatally cursing his brain, glancing at his notes before returning to her own. He didn't question her, instead, thanking her, smile easy on his lips before writing the correction.

Her chest tightened at his sincerity. He wasn't suspicious. He wasn't even guarded; he just trusted her.

She could just continue like this, making small adjustments to his work until he had come out this study session with less knowledge than he came in with.

It was so simple.

She hesitated, needing to be smart with this, if she just handed him incorrect answers willy-nilly, than eventually it would catch up to her. He would call her out, knowing she was a liar and discredit her previous corrections.

No.

She racked her brain; Papa would be disappointed with her failing method. Another plan formulated, wondering if she gave Will long, convoluted methods of completing questions instead, then he'd still get the correct marks, but he would waste precious time. Time he could have used to answer more questions and get more points.

Either way, she would be on top.

This exchange lasted a while. El gave 'suggestions' every few minutes, nothing unreasonable, just a few nitpicks here and there, extending the time it would take him to answer questions, eventually coming to a point where each question took over five minutes, even the simple ones. That was until Will noticed something on her worksheet.

To be helpful, Will took note of her worksheet, finger pointing to a question, "Actually El, I think you forgot an Oxygen biproduct in that question, I always remember it with a little song," he giggled, putting down his pencil and clapping to a beat he created.

El watched him in awe, eyeing him up and down, confused and a little astonished. She was usually stone-cold while studying, especially with others, but the way Will sang his little ditty, made a soft, genuine smile creep onto her features.

Once his song was over, Will ducked his head, cheeks pink, "But I doubt you'd even need it. You work so hard El, you deserve all the good grades," a little sentimental, a little cheesy,

The words slipped out like butter as if it were nothing, but to El, the words landed like a strike to the chest. She blinked at him stunned, throat closing. 'work hard'? no one had ever said that to her before.

Not her classmates, not her teachers, not even her Papa.

To them, her achievements weren't effort, they were expectations. It was just something she was born with, like a superpower gifted upon her. She was supposed to be flawless, and if she wasn't, then what was she?

Yet, here was Will, telling her she worked hard.

Eyes flicked down, trying to hide the way her eyes burned faintly, threatening to spill. She forced her face to the side, muttering a quiet, "Thank you," and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, voice softer than she thought it could go.

Guilt gnawed at her. He was here believing in her, trusting her completely, and she tried to sabotage him. It made her stomach twist at the mere thought. In a moment of weakness, she took his workbook, turning the pages and picking up her eraser, "About what I said earlier," she murmured, not daring to look at him while she scratched out the 'correction' she'd given before.

"Do it your way, your method is better."

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3002 Words

Sorry for the longer than usual wait, i wasnt feeling well mentally. (I'm doing a little better now, dw beautifuls <3)

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

EL POV -

"I just realised that the way you did it is better," she reiterated. Why did she even bother helping him like this? Was it a moment of weakness, or something else entirely?

Genuinely smiling, Will tilted his head, only blinking at the work with a puppy-dog expression, nodding brightly, "Oooh! Okay!"

El only nodded but kept her expression steady. Inside though, her chest ached with an unfamiliar warmth she didn't know how to articulate. She sat in silence for a few seconds until noticing the clock ticking on her wrist.

"Oh my! It's almost eleven!" her head popped up, "You probably need to get home Will!"

"Oh, it's fine,"

"No, no, no," She shook her head, neatly stacking her workbooks into her bag. She didn't want to be here anymore, "It's late, you'll miss your curfew."

Will laughed, waving a hand, "I don't have one. My mum's pretty chill about that."

El shook her head firmly, hiding her expression. "Still. It's better not to push it." She didn't admit it out loud, but the thought of Will getting into trouble because of her made her uneasy; it was strange, she thought she'd be happier to make the boy who beat her feel some sort of suffering.

Following her lead, Will packed his bag, humming under his breath. "This was fun though. We should do it again."

El tucked her hair behind her ear, her face calm, though her heart was still in turmoil. "Yes," she said soft, oddly genuine. "We should."

Taking their time as they left the grand library, they stepped into the cool night air. The sidewalks were nearly empty, illuminated by the pale orange glow of the streetlamps. El adjusted the straps of her bag as they walked side-by-side, too awkward to speak, yet also too awkward for the quiet.

Then suddenly, a bellowing grumble reverberated through her stomach.

Red painted her cheeks, heating up instantly, "... I think I must be hungry," she spoke to alleviate the atmosphere, "but it's late, all Papa's suitable restaurants are closed by now," her brows furrowed in frustration, "I wonder if there's any food left at home?" she pondered.

With so many siblings, eating was like a competition, no matter how much their private chef made, it was never enough. Papa ensured food was merely to fulfil the need, not for enjoyment. He wanted them to be physically and mentally perfect, and eating was a burden to productivity.

Cogs in Will's in his mind turned, as he faced her, eyes lighting up, "I have an idea!"

"You know a suitable restaurant?"

"Better!" he exclaimed, excitement bubbling, "there's a 24-hour convenience store around here. They've got tons of stuff; we can go there."

"I've... never been inside one." she paused, eyeing him like he was crazy,

Will stopped dead in his tracks, staring back at her like she was the crazy one, "You're kidding. Never? Like not even by accident?"

"Papa always had someone buy things for us..." She plainly admitted, not realising how incredibly saddening her words were, "I only ever go to school and the library,"

Rich kids: who could have known? Was she really so sheltered?

"Unbelievable!" he stretched each syllable for emphasis. "This is happening. Right now!" his gaze determined.

Before she could protest, he grabbed her arm in the same manner she had earlier. His steps were nimble, quick and certain. El stumbled at first, not used to anyone wanting to willingly hang out after studying. They usually left once they got what they needed from her.

Steps blurred together, feeling Will's arm interlocked around hers, only now noticing his hoodie; it seemed extremely familiar; where had she seen it before? She didn't dwell on that thought, merely allowing herself to be dragged along; since when did she become so docile?

Fluorescent lights blinded them as they ended the store. Will gestured toward it with his free hand like presenting a grand prize, "Here we are!"

He led her round, marching immediately toward the instant noodle section. El stumbled, slightly overwhelmed by the narrow aisles; the colours a contrast to the muted pallet of the library.

"Alright, here we go." Will pointed at the selection on the shelves, "This is perfect for a quick dinner. Trust me, I've had so many!" he picked one up, "this is the one I usually get... but let's get a big one so we can share."

Share? He wanted to share with her? Was that even hygenic?

El leaned forward, inspecting the package; oversized block letters, cartoony chicken spitting fire and warnings printed on a massive cup. Much different from the neat, minimalist packaging she was used to seeing at home. Even their 'snacks' were in white wraps, no personality to be seen,

Before she could even speak, Will spoke first, "They've got chicken, beef, shrimp, vegetarian, ooh, and a combo. You can't go wrong with these. You can have it as spicy or mild as you want, your choice."

Choice? She was allowed to choose? Food, plus everything in life was merely handed to her by her Papa with no room for argument. She found herself quietly intrigued, both by the food on the shelf and the boy by her side.

"How about... that one?" El hesitantly asked, her tone careful and shy as she pointed at an oversized cup, enough to feed three.

Will beamed, pleased, "Then its settled. I'm getting it for you," he plucked the cup off the shelf, a black box with shrimp and chicken engulfed by flames. He motioned to the rest of the store, "I'll go make this. Go look around, it's gonna take a few minutes."

At first, El wasn't too sure where to start. Merely wandering the aisles, her eyes caught every colour imaginable, bright candy, chip bags with mascot and drinks whose colours weren't natural to nature, neon green and electric blue.

"Ga-tor-ade," she read every syllable slowly,

Drifting her eyes down the aisles, she stopped at the snack cakes, each looking like a perfect doll-food-item. She held one up, sponge cake with a cream and jam filling. Turning over, she frowned at the long list of ingredients, essentially blurring her vision, just strings of E-numbers and chemical-sounding names. Quickly, she set it down, feeling disgusted but also oddly curious over the taste.

Like a kid in a candystore, she moved toward the back, the hum of freezers drawing her attention. The glass doors fogged slightly. El opened the door, hand resting on the cold handle, the frost hitting her face. Rows of frozen pizza, burritos and ice cream lined the shelves.

But one bright yellow box caught her eye.

"Eggo Waffles?"

She stared at it for a long moment, her lips parting slightly. Waffles were familiar of course, her chef had occasionally made it for her Papa, but she was never allowed to even take a bite. They were usually dusted with sugar, topped with honey and served with ice-cream.

However, these were frozen. The open door caused cold air to escape, a cloud of mist spreading.

El reached out, grabbing the box to read the ingredients, "I've never had these before,"

Entranced, she didn't even realise when a body spoke beside her, "What'd you find?"

"Waffles. In a box," she turned slightly, tone cautious as though fearing looking like a fool.

"Oh, Eggos?" he leaned closer, "You throw them in a toaster and you're all set."

"And they taste... good?"

Will shrugged, but his grin never faltered. "Depends on who you ask. But I personally enjoy them."

El's eyes flickered between him and the box, curiosity getting the best of her, "can I buy them?"

"Don't ask me," he held his hands up in surrender, "Get it if you want,"

She nodded, smile bright and wide, a first ounce of rebellion Will managed to fill her with. Marching to the counter, she placed the item, ready to tap her card when the worker pointed to a sign, Card Machine Broken. El blinked in surprise, utterly unprepared, rummaging through her purse but having no cash on her.

Damn this digital age.

Black credit card, and no way to pay for a singular box of frozen waffles; she wondered whether there was an ATM nearby, but what would the chances of that be?

Standing behind her with the oversized steaming noodle cup in a plastic bag, Will sighed, but not in annoyance, rather softly. "Don't worry about it," he smiled, sliding past her. He placed all the items on the counter, pulling out a set of bills from his wallet and handing them over with ease, which made it clear that he had done this a million times before.

Of course, recently, Will had been buying a lot more because of Mike's commands.

El turned in shock, brows knitting together, "No, you shouldn't-"

"Too late," he interrupted, shoving the receipt into his pocket and picking the items back up; at least what she wanted was significantly cheaper than Mike's.

Besides, she did help him study,

El wasn't used to this type of gratitude, both flustered and strangely amused. "Will, I can pay you back later. It isn't right-"

"Relax," he said, heading for the door before she could argue further. "Let's just eat."

By the time she followed outside, the air was cooler, yet the town seemed more lively than ever; how had she never noticed this before? On the rare occasions she walked the streets, she usually kept her head down, eyes and mind keeping steady on the course.

Despite the late hour, the place was buzzing. The convenience store patio was filled with college students, their open beer cans resting on the table as they laughed a little too loudly. Another table had a group of girls playing poker, sharing secrets as the drinks loosened their lips. A couple sat next to each other, the girl eating while her boyfriend just stared at her, soaking in the love.

It was messy, uncoordinated, and definitely nothing like El was used to, but for some reason she didn't hate it.

Will plopped down at an empty seat, setting the food down on the metal table, motioning El to sit opposite. He immediately peeled the back of the lid for the pair, mixing the broth until perfection, all while El was still standing there watching him work his magic.

"Perfect!" Will admitted after a few seconds,

She was way out of her depth.

Carefully taking the seat, El joined him, smoothing the shorts of her jumpsuit as though the cheap plastic chairs may erase the colour onto her expensive outfit. Her posture was straight as she tucked her hair behind her ears. Her eyes flickered to the steaming broth before her, noodles floating in the liquid.

The surface shimmered with red oil, dotted with bits of chicken and shrimp tenders. The cup was so big it looked like it could've been served in a pot rather than a disposable bowl, the kind of things meant for groups to share.

The sight made her mouth water; the smell was incredible considering the price. El leaned in almost subconsciously, her posture slipping for once. She inhaled deep, eyes narrowing, not really knowing what to expect.

Then it happened, when she scooped the noodles and broth with her plastic spork and brought them to her lips, she tasted the fiery richness, her whole demeanour shifting.

Her eyes widened, glowing with something almost akin to childlike glee. The heat tinted her tongue, savoury chicken and tender shrimp melted against every bite. She let out a faint sound, nearly a hum.

"Do you like it?"

El nodded eagerly, "My private chef never makes noodles like this," admitting as though it was a common experience,

Will blinked, "Chef?" he almost snorted, laughing a little to himself as if waiting for the punchline, yet, when none came, he piped down, "Oh... you're serious?"

"Of course!" she nodded, "the chef cooks for me and my siblings every single day,"

"You have siblings?"

"Eighteen including me." She admitted something she never normally did, but for some reason she felt safe, as if she wouldn't be judged,

"Woah," Will almost recoiled, "I have one brother, and we bicker constantly, how do you deal with that?"

"We... manage," she hesitated. Most of her siblings were older, some way into their twenties, all having different mothers... it somehow made her wonder how her father got custody of so many children, but this was no time to dwell on reoccuring thoughts.

She ate.

"I do hope you love these noodles though...," Will kept the conversation going, "I know your Chef probably makes a lot better food,"

Love couldn't express how much she adored this simple meal. At home, meals were never her choice, everything was approved by her Papa and made by their private chef. Food was proportioned, designed to keep their minds sharp and bodies disciplined. Even when she was hungry, she learned to suppress it. If Will hadn't fed her right now, she probably would have gone to bed hungry.

However, this broth was freedom, a slight rebellion in the form of noodles. A bowl big enough for her to eat until she decided she was full. For once, she wasn't eating to sustain her brain or to please her Papa, rather she was eating because she wanted to.

Lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't even realised it when a faint, familiar warmth slid from her nose. She brushed it away with the back of her hand absentmindedly.

"Woah, hey-" Will dropped his spork with a clatter, eyes wide, "El, you're bleeding,"

Detatched and calm, she shrugged, smearing the blood on her upper lip as she took another sip of the broth, "it's not a big deal. It just happens sometimes,"

Unwilling to believe it, Will stood so quickly the chair scraped against the concrete as he bolted toward the store, returning with a wad of napkins, practically stumbling in a rush.

Instead of sitting back down, he crouched beside her, looking up at her as he dabbed the blood, gentle and soft; it was something his mother used to do when he was younger, "here, tilt your head forward. Just... hold still,"

His tone was unusually firm, careful not to press too hard.

El blinked, awkwardly shifting at his urgency, not used to this type of care. She noticed how his brows were furrowed in sympathy, "it's just blood," she mumbled, keeping her tone light,

"Ah!" Will smiled light-hearted, focussed entirely on blotting the crimson blood away, "Don't worry, you just eat your food. I'll clean it for you,"

El stiffened, caught completely off guard but didn't push him away. Her nosebleeds always came when she was stressed, during exams, training, studying and intense dinners. When she had nosebleeds at home, her Papa merely scoffed in her direction and only reacted if the blood tainted her workbooks. She was called weak, always expected to hide it, deal with it alone, and not let it distract from her appearance.

Yet here was Will, abandoning his own food, hovering like it was the end of the world just so she wouldn't be inconvenienced.

The bleeding stopped after a few seconds; it always did. Will finally leaned back, sighing in visible relief. Passing a sheepish little smile, he threw the napkin away, sliding back into his seat, "okay, let eat again!"

"Oh, um, yeah!" El stammered, lips tugging into a smile before she even realised it. A small genuine expression slipped as she watched Will eating the steaming broth, taking small bites.

For a moment, El kept her eyes fixed on him, she didn't expect him to care so much, no one ever did. Her fingers curled in her lap, clutching the edge of her Eggo's box.

She thought back to earlier when she had invited him to study; it wasn't out of kindness; it was pure malice. She did it so she could win, because she always needed to. He stole her first place on that exam and she was desperate to find a way to squash him like a bug, just like her Papa taught her.

But she wasn't her Papa, was she?

In that moment, she didn't want to take him down. He wasn't arrogant like her Papa, or smug like her siblings; he was just humble whilst supporting her achievements. Tonight, under the glow of the convenience store and wafting smoke from their prepackaged food, she realised he was just being a friend.

The kind she never had before.

Others used her, left as soon as they got their grades. She had been tricked and taken advantage of many times before, but here, with him, she felt safe, warm, normal. He never left once their session was over, paid for her noodles and waffles despite El being so much richer.

El picked up her spork, slowly taking the broth to her lips, savouring the warmth emitting from the flavour. A small, almost shy smile tugged at her lips as she looked at Will from beneath her lashes.

Maybe... just maybe she didn't want him to be a rival.

Not foe, not rival.

A friend?

After all, just because she had her Papa's blood, didn't mean she would resort to the same tactics he would. Not now, and not in the future.

Right?

MIKE POV -

---- Tuesday ----

"Here. Thanks for letting me wear it yesterday,"

Mike looked down at his desk, seeing his neatly folded hoodie ironed and placed down like an ancient relic that demanded perfect attention,

He looked back up to see Will's face soft and sincere.

In all honesty, he hadn't actually expected Will to give it back at all. Hell, he figured Will would have kept it, blamed it on Mike for even handing it over. With all the errands Mike had given him, it would have only been natural for Will to keep it as compensation, or alternately hold it ransom.

Even when he did imagine Will returning it, he expected it would come back wrinkled, smelling like Will's cheap vanilla perfume and sweat, straight from off his back and into Mike's arms. Yet here was Will, sliding the hoodie over like it was sacred.

"Well, well," Mike leaned back in his usual slouched position, thumbing the fabric and tugging the hoodie closer like a jeweller inspecting the authenticity of his greatest diamonds, "No stains, no smells, no wrinkles," he hummed aloud, "I'm impressed, I thought you'd've used it as fuel in a voodoo ritual,"

Will rolled his eyes hard, but the tips of his ears painted red, "If I wanted to get rid of you, I'd use poison to make you suffer,"

"Concerning," Mike nodded along, waiting for a punchline that never came. Instead, he cleared his throat, "Anyways... it's just that I'm surprised you returned it so quickly and... neatly,"

That second part shocked Mike even more. Usually, when he gave his hoodies to girls, they kept it or merely handed it to their future boyfriends'. Mike didn't know why he was so surprised, of course Will wouldn't have done either of those things, he's a guy.

A gay guy, but a guy none-the-less.

"I didn't just toss it in the washing machine, okay?" Will lowered his voice, a little annoyed at the next sentence he was about to utter, "It looked expensive, and I didn't know how it would hold up in the machine, so... I hand washed it."

Mike's smirk faltered, caught off guard by the honesty, "How? And with what detergent?" he wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing, but just in case, he unfolded the hoodie, taking a critical second look.

Rubbing the back of his neck embarrassed, Will confessed, "I used one of those, uh- those little fancy detergent sample packets. The kind they give in high-end Hotels; my mom used to work there for a little while." He accidently overshared.

The words just kept spilling out, each letter making Will's already red blush deepen, engulfing his neck.

For a moment, Mike just stared, eyeing him up and down. Then he burst out laughing.

"You hand washed my hoodie?" Mike leaned forward on his desk, grin spreading, unable to contain himself. "What are you, my Nana?"

"Shut up!" Will glared, "I was just trying to repay the favour. You think I wanted to spend half-an-hour hunched over a bucket in the yard scrubbing your stupid cigarette smell out of it?" Will tilted his head in soft rage, "You reek by the way."

"Jeez!" Mike's laughter died down to crooked amusement, "Damn, don't get your panties in a twist!"

"I'm not getting anything twisted!" Will shot back immediately, but the embarrassed hue in his cheeks didn't make him very threatening.

"I just meant that I didn't know you were so good at cleaning shit..." his thought lingered for a few seconds, attention paused on him, "maybe I should make you clean my room."

"Am I your maid?"

"I don't think a frilly dress would suit you," Mike looked him up and down as if imagining Will in a maid dress, making a show to embarrass Will, "Actually..." he teased, chuckling louder.

"You disgusting pervert!" Will's blush only deepened, a little stern.

"Relax man! Neither of us wanna see that." Mike smiled bright, "But, you know I could just order you to do it, and you'd have to,"

"I'm not wearing a dress!"

"I meant about the cleaning." Mike rolled his eyes, smirking at the look on Will's face.

Tired of being embarrassed, Will bit back, "And risk finding your dirty magazines? No thank you,"

"Magazines? Who has magazines anymore?" Mike chuckled, only half-joking, "All the nudie videos I watch are found on-"

"-That's it. I've given your hoodie, I'm leaving." Will cut in with a quick groan, throwing up his hands and returning to his desk, he didn't even want to entertain this idea.

"Will, no! Will come back!" He called over with a dumb smile, "Don't you want to know my favourite video?"

No response was expected. Mike watched him go, lips twitching as he contained his laughter, but his fingers brushed over the freshly washed hoodie sitting idle on his desk, finding himself silently replaying Will's words,

He hand washed it.

No one had ever done something like that for him before.

Why did the thought make him smile?

---- ----

3700 Words

Almost been a week, sorry :(

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV -

---- Thursday ----

Fried chicken.

Eye to eye, Will and Dustin sat across each other. The smell of their delivery box hitting them the second they tore the bag open,

Will's stomach growled embarrassingly loud making Dustin smirk as he laid its contents on the table with a dramatic flair, like unveiling hidden treasure. The smell hit them instantly.

Spicy fried chicken glistening with sauce, steam rising with surrounding pickles. It was pure bliss. Will's mouth watered, it wasn't every day where he was treated to a meal this... extravagant. The fried chicken cost almost quadruple what Will would get near his house.

Dustin paid, claiming it was Will's brain that allowed him to pass the previous English exam. They studied together, hard. Every single day until the exam, over call or in the school library, and finally after an entire month did Dustin get back his results.

He got an 'A'

And this was his way of showing gratitude.

Although feeling bad for this free meal, Will paid the delivery costs, stating it was the 'least he could do.'

Lying out the boxes on the table, something became apparent, there was an extra fry packet. Holding it up like a trophy, Dustin exclaimed, "Extra fries!"

"Wow! They gave us extra?" Will reached out to analyse the box.

"Uh, correction-" Dustin tucked the bag to his chest possessively, "My fries. I paid for them so by food laws they're mine."

"I'm the reason you even remembered to order fries in the first place... you almost ordered seven sodas!"

Dustin stuck his tongue out, shaking his head, refusing to lose this battle, "I win, cause, nuh-uh."

"Put the fries down Dustin!" Will joked, as if talking down an enraged man to put his weapon down,

"No! my fries, my personal fries,"

"don't make me come over there!"

"Over my dead body!" Dustin started opening the bag, reaching inside, only for Will to lunge, grabbing his arm. The two boys immediately devolved into a chaotic half-wrestling match over the table, laughing with each moment at the absurdity, but neither willing to back down.

Then suddenly, Will felt a tug on his hair, dramatically yelping, "Ah! My hair!" he clawed at his hand in laughter, "That's cheating! Let go of my hair!" before retaliating by grabbing a fistful of Dustin's curly locks back; grip tight and secure.

They were in a ridiculous standoff, and the food was getting cold. Collectively, they grinned through gritting teeth, their holds only getting stronger, their faces mere inches apart. The fries sat abandoned on the table as though the real victory was the winner of this playfighting match.

"Okay," Dustin huffed out of breath, "We let go on three. Got it?"

Will's eyes narrowed, suspicious, "Fine."

"Good." Dustin smirked, "Ready? One, two-"

"Three!" they both announced, but absolutely neither let go.

Stubborn as mules, they only pulled harder as they wrestled, boxes below them rumbling, their laughter through the courtyard. A few other students turned to watch the scene, some finding the scene hilarious, while other rolled their eyes in disgust.

"You said you were gonna let go!"

"Well, you didn't either!"

Two idiots locked in a battle over fries would never end. It was chaos, fingers tangled in hair and food still in their packaging below them.

"...What are you two doing?"

A familiar female voice sliced the air. It was El.

She appeared beside their table like a stern teacher who'd just witnessed her students fighting. Her arms crossed loosely, head tilted, and an awkward smile gave way to confusion at the ridiculous sight.

The boys froze as if she'd cast a spell on them. Both instantly loosened their grips, sitting back down and pretending they hadn't just involved themselves in a tug-of-war over fries. Their hairs however, told the truth, messy tufts sticking up from the affected areas.

"Uh- we're eating." Will ran a hand through his hair like a wet mop.

Dustin, still catching his breath took a sip of soda to quench his thirst, "Yeah, we're just eating." He reiterated what Will just said. Then, like a stroke of genius hitting him, he invited her. "Hey, you should join us,"

El blinked, visibly taken aback, "Me?"

"Yeah dude,"

Dustin gestured to the empty seat beside Will with a chipper smile like it was the most natural thing in the world, "We've got fried chicken, fries and soda, but more than enough for us two to eat," his smile was wide.

Will furrowed a brow; was Dustin still trying to set them up? He almost audibly groaned at the thought. However, when Will looked closer, he didn't see any hint of his usual mischief, just his normal Dustin-ness. Will didn't object to having El join them, "the more the merrier!" he motioned beside him,

El hesitated, eyes flickering between them as though asking as if it were really okay for her to be there. She was caught off guard by how genuine Dustin sounded. People didn't usually invite her like that, most just assumed she was too serious, too aloof, too... her. Yet here was Dustin, loud, brash and opinionated, offering her to join and not seeing it as a burden,

Were all of Will's friends this nice? No wonder Will was such a kind soul.

Slowly, El took her seat beside him, a shy smile on her lips. She tucked her hair behind her ears as Dustin handed her a pair of plastic gloves.

"What are these for?" she questioned,

"it's for the chicken," Will replied, not knowing if she's even had fried chicken before, "it's so the sauce doesn't go on your fingers," he instructed.

"Oh, okay!" she nodded thoughtful, copying the two boys. The boxes sat on the table, rattling every few seconds as Will's phone started buzzing on the table.

He leaned over, glancing at the screen, obviously the only person who had been texting him nonstop.

[MIKE]: com to the roof

[MIKE]: skip lunch

In an act of defiance, Will ignored it for a few fleeting moments, more interested in the mountain of food in front of him, but his phone kept lighting up, insistent. For once, with all this food surrounding him, he wanted to just forget all about that. He wanted to laugh with Dustin while eating greasy food and spend time with his friends.

He deserved that, right?

So, without replying, he flipped the phone and reached for the box of chicken. He picked a drumstick, trying to shake off the unease. Dustin was already digging in, making dramatic noises and speaking loudly between chews. El meanwhile raised her brows, perfect pinkie placement as she used a fork, biting with a tentative expression.

Will raised the drumstick to his lips, but before he could take a bite, something tiny hit the table right next to his hand. The other two didn't notice, but Will did.

Small little pebble.

Then another, and a third; all narrowly missing him.

Jumping as they appeared, Will's brows furrowed, seeing the pebble skidding to a stop. Confused, he lifted his eyes behind him, this wasn't something that got kicked from the ground, rather it looked like it was thrown from a high place.

Up on the roof, a familiar figure leaned lazily over the railing... Mike. The strings of his hoodie dangled over the edge, swaying in the soft breeze, one hand casually resting on the railing while the other pointed at him, shifting into a beckoning gesture. His smirk was sharp, visible even from the height; it was like he knew Will would cave.

"But fried chicken?" Will mouthed, holding a drumstick up to the air. In response, all Will saw was the figure shaking his head disapprovingly.

His stomach dropped.

He quickly glanced at his friends, both oblivious, caught up in their own clatter and the food between them. Will's chest tightened,

Lamenting, Will jumped up, stealing the extra fries box as he slipped away from the table, mumbling something about "forgetting he had to do something real quick,". Dustin and El called after him, wondering where he was going in such a rush, but these words fell on deaf ears.

"Unbelievable," Will stalked the stairwell, running up the steps three at a time, "That fucking prick is doing this on purpose!" he huffed.

EL POV -

Dustin shook his head at Will's retreating figure. Left alone with just El, he spoke first, "Have you ever had chicken from here before?" finding a way to break the ice.

El hesitated then shook her head, admitting soft, "I have never had chicken like this before."

"You say that like it's your first time eating fried chicken," Dustin half-laughed at the absurdity.

"It is..." El admitted, eyes following as she sipped soda for the first time, almost shocked by the carbonation.

"HUH?! You've never had fried chicken?!" Dustin dropped his wing, seeing El merely confirm like it was normal; she didn't diverge into details, she wasn't the type to share. Then, fast as lightening, he reached forward, clasping both of her hands with his tightly, like making a sacred vow,

"Dude." He began, voice more serious than usual, "We are going to try every fried chicken place in town until you are caught up on everything you've missed. Got it?"

El blinked, taken aback by how intense he was despite his jocular tone, it was clear to her that he wasn't joking right now. Then, she slowly smiled soft, nodding along, "Okay!"

Practically jumping up and down, Dustin's smile beamed, fist-bumping in the air. He couldn't contain his excitement.

Familiar feelings from the convenience store arose as she glanced down at the fried chicken and Dustin's eager expression. Something melted within; the scene was oddly similar to that night.

Of course, Will's friends would be just like this, she wasn't even surprised when her chest tightened in a strange warmth.

Gentle. Sweet. Open-hearted in ways she wasn't used to.

Her gaze lingered a little further as she picked up a chicken thigh, this time with her fingers... she was happy,

She had two friends now.

WILL POV -

Pushing past the heavy metal doors with more force than necessary, Will allowed the slam to echo the empty roof, wind hitting the hair that fell over his eyes. His chest was puffed and cheeks red from the sudden trek, and in his hands he had the sad little fry box that was nothing compared to the chicken he was forced to abandon down there.

He stomped over, voice carrying far, "you've got to be kidding me." He snapped a tad dramatic, "I loved that chicken Micheal! I only get it when Dustin orders, and it was perfect, and-"

"You're giving me a migraine, simmer down." Mike waved a hand,

"Simmer down?" Will almost spat, "I didn't even get a bite of the chicken because like an obsessed stalker you wanted me here."

"As if I'd stalk you." Mike pointed out as though that was the only part of the conversation he understood, "and I said 'skip lunch'." He plucked the box from Will's hands,

"My fries!"

Holding it over his head, Mike calmly replied, "You can get this back later." He then motioned to the side, "sit, and maybe I'll give it back."

Old tables and chairs were used to build a makeshift table. Will furrowed his brows confused, honestly somewhat impressed Mike made this, but equal parts worried what he may be asked to do.

With a huff, Will took a little seat, careful not to break the ensemble before him. Mike followed, knocking on the surface like it were a throne, "pretty good, huh? I made it myself from the junk pile. Pretty sturdy if I do say so myself."

It wobbled dangerously with every move.

"It's an abomination."

"Maybe," Mike said with a little shrug, lips twitching, "You should be honoured, I would have made other people sit on the floor."

Grumpy and annoyed, Will huffed, no time for games, he had chicken on his mind. He hoped that if he were done with this quickly, then he could go back down to his friends and eat atleast some few strips of cold chicken.

Mike ducked under the lopsided table, grabbing something and setting it down on his lap. A black cooler back. Will didn't immediately question despite his suspicious brows.

Casually, he unzipped the bag. "Lunch!" he simply explained. Then, one by one, he started unloading Tupperware containers, setting them out in a neat little spread. Pasta, rice, omelettes, and meats of many varieties.

All of them looked a little off.

The veggies were cut unevenly, meats looking a little charred while rice and omelettes appeared overdone. A very sad meal.

pulling out one last container, Mike proudly unveiled brownies, oddly-shapen and sinking in the middle, too doughy and rough, "And here's dessert."

"You... brought food up here?"

"Correction." Mike leaned back with a smirk as he removed the lids, "Made food. Myself."

"You cook?" Will almost blurted,

"Nope." Mike said blunt, "first time."

Will winced, "Why?"

"Don't look so surprised, I didn't make these for you." He admitted with narrowed eyes, "I'm doing home-ec because that's where all the chicks are. I experimented last night. These are the, uh-" he gestured to army of Tupperware lacing the table, "-leftovers, or y'know, failed attempts."

Will stared between Mike and the food, "So you ruined my fried chicken so I could be your guinea pig?"

"Exactly." Mike took out a spoon, holding it out, "Eat."

"Eat? Are you sure it's even edible?"

"that's the point." Mike reached over the table to tap Will's head to prove his point. "I need someone to tell me how it tastes. I can't get chicks with bad food."

"I'm surprised you get any 'chicks' at all."

"Just eat." He even handed over a large bottle of water, "just thought you might need this."

Will prodded the mismatched spread again, the smell a mix of every food he'd ever tried before; it was on big cacophony of smells and sights. He shuddered involuntarily, imagining the food poisoning rendering him useless for the next week.

Finally mustering the courage, Will scooped up a bite, bracing himself as he shoved it down his throat. Slowly, he chewed and swallowed, "Hmm..."

"'Hmm'? what's that supposed to mean?"

"It's strange."

"How?"

The flavour was... surprisingly balanced. Equal parts spicy and tangy, and the pasta was only a little overcooked. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't the disaster he'd imagined.

No immediate vomiting was a good sign.

"it's edible." Will didn't dare give praise, knowing it would only go to Mike's head, but also, he couldn't lie; that just didn't feel right, "it's actually not as bad as it looks,"

"So, it's good?"

"I never said that." Will mixed the dishes together, the food tasting best as a unit, surprisingly complimenting each other pretty well.

Mike eyed him, an uncaught genuine smile at the sight of someone eating the food he prepared, then, without warning, he stole the spoon from Will's fingers, taking a bite of the combination. No care for hygiene at all.

"Woah!" his eyes gleamed, his normal cocky grin faltering for a moment, "it is surprising..."

"Huh?" Will barely caught the words, "You don't like it?"

"No, it's not that." Mike dismissed, when he taste-tested it earlier, it was bland and felt soulless like most food did to him, so why was it when Will mixed it for him, it felt... warm?

Mike shoved a spoonful in his mouth and chewed, nodding as he agreed with the craftsmanship of his dish, "I'm damn good."

"Keep your pants on. I said it was okay." Will argued, yet despite his protests grabbed another spoon. The vegetables were a little too soft, but the flavour was there. The omelette, though folded haphazardly, was fluffy and cooked-through. Even the brownies, with its burnt edges and raw interior had its moment of rich chocolatey flavour.

"See?" Mike said between bites, "How could you ever doubt me?"

Will didn't bother responding, taking another bite of food when he felt eyes on him. Looking up through his hair, he saw Mike eyeing him with a spoon dangling between his fingers. His eyes narrowed mischievously causing Will to smile nervously.

"So..." Mike started, dragging the word out like he was savouring it; he even put his spoon down, "Since your gay, I've got some questions,"

Nearly choking on rice, Will coughed into his fist, chugging on the water bottle he was given. He glared at Mike with wide eyes, "What?"

"Well, I've got questions about how it all... works,"

Will half rose, looking all around to ensure no one was there to hear, "can you shut up? What if someone hears."

"Chill man," Mike rolled his eyes, "no one's coming up here any time soon."

"No! forget it!" Will snapped, clicking his spoon on the table, "that's personal and-"

Not needing words, Mike tilted his phone just enough for the corner of the screen to be lit. That cursed recording. Will's face drained of colour.

"Fine." Will picked up his spoon again, taking smaller bites now,

"Good boy," he smiled like a cat pawing a mouse to his game, his eyes crinkling upwards, "first question; so how did you know you're gay? Did you just like see a guy and think 'yeah, I'd fuck him'?"

Will's ears burned, shifting in his seat to avoid the strict gaze, "I'm not some alien. It's the same way you know you like girls."

"Okay... but how do you know?"

"I just do."

"No need to get so defensive." Mike chuckled annoyingly calm, loving to push his buttons, "okay, next. When you notice a guy... what do you look at first?"

Will groaned, closing his eyes as he muttered, "Eyes."

"What a basic bitch answer,"

"it's the truth!"

"you sure it's not biceps or abs-" his voice lowered teasingly "or even his di-"

"don't you dare finish that sentence!" Will threatened, "you're disgusting."

"What? Wanna hear what my favourite part on a girl is?"

"I'd rather never hear your takes on anything."

"Relax" Mike rolled his eyes, deciding not to push any further upon seeing Will's rosy cheeks, "I'm just curious. I don't know any other gay guys. You're like a novelty."

Only for mere seconds, Will lifted his eyes, wishing the rooftop would swallow him whole.

At this new game he'd created, Mike tapped his spoon against the rim of the Tupperware. Will barely touched his food again, already stressed over the next few questions.

"Have you ever kissed a guy before?"

"Huh?!" Will almost cracked the spoon, "No!"

"That quick, huh? So, I'm guessing you've ever been in a relationship either?"

"that's completely different!"

"I'm right though," he leaned forward, tucking the hair away from Will's eyes, "are you waiting for the right guy to sweep you off your feet?" He chuckled sweet like sugar.

Will didn't even bother responding to that question, clear Mike didn't even need an answer. He hummed, dragging it out to see Will squirm, "interesting..." he leaned back with a big smile, "what's your ideal type? Nerdy boys? Jocks? Or..." his smirk turning downright wicked, "... don't tell me it's bad boys?"

Will frowned, hesitating to even answer, having half a mind to scream or throw a fit. But his resolve faltered when Mike lazily tapped his phone again,

Clenching his fists, Will lowered his head, practically vibrating with humiliation. Through gritted teeth, he muttered, "... I don't know. I guess I just like whoever's not a jerk."

Mike pretended to pout. "So, you don't have a crush on me?" his tone jocular but the pause lingering just a little too long.

"I'd rather crush on a girl."

Mike ignored and ploughed on, "ever had a crush on one of your friends?" he saw Will pause deep in thought, mistaking it for confirmation, "you have." He slapped the table, "who is it, curly hair or basketball?"

"Dustin and Lucas." Will corrected, "and neither. I'm not crushing on anyone."

"Liar,"

Will stayed quiet, his body stiff, cheeks flushed red. Mike stared deep into his soul, relaxed and controlled while Will sat like a chihuahua with his tail stuck between his legs. He leaned over the rickety table, grin turning sly. One hand rested on his chin while the other tapped the table in thought.

"It was in middle school I guess... I don't talk to them any more. it was before I even knew I liked guys." Will admitted in a singular breath.

"That was the answer I wanted to hear." He chuckled, and as if brimming to ask more, Mike continued, "So," he dragged out the words, "if you do get yourself a boyfriend one day... will you be the man or the woman?" his tone playful, lacing mischief,

"Excuse me?!" Will scrunched his face, "How could you even ask me something like that?"

"Pretty easily actually." Mike shrugged, "I just want to know if you're the top or bottom."

"H-how is that important?"

"it's the question to ask a gay guy."

"I'm not answering that." Will grit through his teeth,

"Fine. I guess I'll let you keep your secrets with that one." Mike eyed him up and down, as though sizing him up, "I'd say you're a bottom though."

These questions were starting to get on his nerves, the teasing swimming in the air for a few seconds until unexpectedly, Mike's smile softened, falling to something more genuine, "Alright then," his voice was quieter, "Let me ask you something real."

"Why haven't you told your friends yet? Or your family?" Mike's eyes were steady, and for once, serious, "I mean, I've seen your nerd squad, and they seem loyal enough. And well, I don't know much about your family, but if they're anything like you, I'd say they're good people. So why lie about being straight?"

Will froze, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone as his lips pressed into a thin line, "they wouldn't understand."

"wouldn't? or you don't think they would."

"You don't get it!" He was curt, "my friends talk like being gay is some sort of massive joke, and my family... if it goes wrong, I can't get a new one." Will's chest tightened, eyes hardening, "does that answer your questions, or do you wanna embarrass me even more?"

"Naa. I think I'm done with my questions for now." Mike didn't laugh this time. He just sat there watching Will's hunched shoulders and sullen smile. Something flickered in his eyes, something unreadable as he smiled more genuine this time, almost hesitant,

"But... don't sell yourself short." His voice was quiet while still keeping his usual ego, "They'd be lucky to get to know the real you..." he cleared his throat, "Go on, keep eating. I didn't lug all this crap up here just for you to poke at it."

Stunned by the words, Will didn't know how to react. He sighed, obediently taking a bite, then another. It was easier than arguing and truth be told the food was rather good... although he would have rather had fried chicken.

With only the sound of quiet clattering of Tupperware and chewing filling the air, Mike spoke up again, breaking through the void.

"Hmm?" he didn't look up, "I think this is the first time I've ever seen you eat an actual meal. Even at work all you eat is like an apple and maybe a granola bar."

Spoon paused mid-pose, "you've been watching me? How creepy." Will deflected, fiddling with the edge of a container, "I guess I just eat when you're not looking."

Mike raised a brow, not believing a single word, "I've been with you for a few weeks, I think I'd at least see you eat once. Both at school and work."

"Well, most of my money goes to you," Will hummed, eyes flickering, absentmindedly answering,

He looked back down, hunching over to shove down the last few bites. He reached for his napkin, wiping his face before gathering the empty container. Mike however, was still watching him, corners of his eyes falling.

"You don't have money for lunch?"

"I don't have money for most things." Will replied blunt.

"Oh..." Mike muttered, casual but attempting to sound softer, "uh... I didn't know..." He cleared his throat, looking away embarrassed, "I guess I shouldn't be makin' you pay for all my crap then."

Will froze for a fraction of a second, eyes pointing downwards with a sullen expression. He gave a tiny shrug, brushing it off, "It's whatever..." He couldn't dwell, no matter if he was in this situation or now, he wouldn't have enough money to begin with, "...and besides, I don't need much anyways. If I ever..." his voice trailed off, the words out before he even noticed, whispering the small part with a quiet smile,

"If I ever want to be loved as a gay guy... I need to stay small, y'know? Cause I'm not exactly the most attractive." The self-depreciating words came out Will's throat like second nature, but there was no hesitation, rather a genuine inner thought.

"That's bullcrap..." Mike wasn't done. Words slipped out before he could catch them, too unfiltered. "You're not ugly, Like at all. You're actually kinda attractive..."

A crimson hue tinted Will's cheeks instantly, fumbling with the Tupperware, wanting to hide himself from the situation. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, speechless.

The realisation of what he said hit Mike like a freight train, did he just call him attractive? He paused, clearing his throat to add more to pretend he hadn't just confessed something of that note, "...y'know, for a guy."

"Oh, right. Um, Cool?" Will mumbled with a little nod, of course that was what Mike meant. He merely smiled nervously in response, trying to hide his face away.

The awkward silence stretched.

RINGGGGG

Between them, the bell acted as a mediator, cutting them both out their thoughts. Will jumped at the noise, shrill sounds echoing across the roof. Mike clutched on, wanting to end this moment, "You heard it. get to class." He barked from his seating position.

Will didn't immediately move, instead continued packing away the containers into the cooler bag, still having a few minutes before class actually started, "It's fine. You go. I'll just clean this up."

That was his 'job', wasn't it?

"If you're gonna play maid, do you want a little dress?" Mike pinched the bridge of his nose, keeping up his sarcastic demeanour, "Move your ass outta here."

Ignoring him, Will gathered napkins, not paying any mind.

That was it. Mike stomped over, towering over Will who merely stepped back confused. Before Will could ever protest, Mike bent down and hauled him up, slinging him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing.

"Hey- HEY!" Will squirmed, pounding his fist against Mike's back, voice outraged, confused, but equally surprised, "Where are you taking me? Put me down!"

"Shut it." Mike said, keeping his usual bravado, marching cross the rooftop and into the stairway, "I asked you to leave, and you didn't. this is your own fault." His words curt but the weight of carrying Will a little too warm, Will's heat pressed into his back especially when Will's protests became weaker.

His heart thudded too loud, "Did you have to pick me up though?"

"You said you were heavy. I wanted to see for myself." It was like he wanted to prove to Will's insecurities false... in his own way, of course.

"Ugh. Just put me down, my bag is still up there!"

By the time they reached the stairway, Mike scowled, trying to shake of the strange tightness in his chest, "You're a pain in my ass sometimes." Finally setting Will down at the top of the stairwell with a little thud. Will bounced as he dropped down to his feet, stumbling.

Mike rolled his eyes, motioning with his chin, "Quit whining, you go to class. I'll get it."

"What? Why?" Will groaned, but his protest falling on deaf ears as Mike passed one last glance before heading back up the stairs with a softer smirk.

Blushing, Will trudged to class, exhaling a little louder under his breath, cheeks bright from being carried. Was this how guys acted with each other? Lucas and Dustin never did things like this. Was it because he was gay, so Mike thought it was fun to tease him like this?

He fanned his face, wanting to lower the heat rushing toward his face; why did he have to be so red all the time? He groaned, hoping to hide his face from any stares. He slid into the classroom and was almost at his desk.

Until a tall figure blocked his path.

Miles.

---- ----

4596 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV -

Miles looked down at him, arms crossed. His eyes were dark and unreadable as always, flickering over Will's flushed features. It was strange; Miles wasn't known for being chatty, and when he did speak, it was low, deliberate and the type that made people pause.

Although the two had bumped into each other in less-than-ideal conditions recently, there was no need to talk any more. Once he sprayed soda on him, while the second he bumped into his friends; was Miles expecting some sort of compensation?

"You okay?" Miles asked, tilting his head at the rosy hue, "you look... weird."

Mid-step Will froze, his blush only deepening from the intense gaze, "Weird?" he repeated, voice high and breaking nervously as he waved a hand over his face, "N-no I'm fine! I just ran."

Miles merely studied, not pushing further, "I wanted to ask you something." His tone was blunt as per usual, but there was something beneath his words.

"Uh... okay? What's up?" Will shifted to confusion.

"I need help in Chemistry. You're good at it, right?" Miles said very matter-of-factly, "Can we study together during free period."

Like being thrown a curveball, Will almost recoiled, mouth slightly agape. Of all people it was Miles, the guy who he found intimidating and scary asking him for help. All instincts were thrown out the window but Miles's expression stopped him. The swimmer wasn't glaring or scowling, merely waiting like he genuinly expected an answer.

"Oh, um sure thing," Will finally managed with a nervous giggle, watching as Miles passed a slow nod before leaving with the tiniest flicker of joy casing his features, though it was so miniscule that nobody could have caught it.

Will blinked, slipping into his seat with a flushed expression, waiting for his bag to be brought to him; what was taking Mike so long? His friends turned to greet him. Dustin paused his explanation on some ridiculous new food spot that El just 'had' to try out.

"What's up dude?" Dustin began,

"Nothing much,", Will sighed dramatically, leaning down on the table, "Just thinking about how I missed the fried chicken."

"Speaking of that..." Dustin slid a cardboard container across his desk with a wide grin, "We saved you some chicken man. It's a shame you missed it!"

"Yeah. It would not have been fair if you didn't have any." El nodded.

Will smiled, reaching for the box, the smell of spicy fried chicken hitting him as he cracked the lid open. He clasped his hands together, stars in his eyes, "Aw guys!" he giggled.

"Don't get sappy. Just eat it already." Dustin shook his head with a jocular eyeroll.

Will licked his lips as he raised the adjacent fork but paused almost instantly. He wasn't hungry. In fact, he was the exact opposite. All the food Mike made him eat sat digesting in his stomach, filling to the brim.

With a little sigh, he put the utensil back down and closed the lid, "I think I'll save it for later. Class is about to start."

Dustin accepted the excuse, knowing how Will was about his education, "By the way Will, I was just telling El that we should go get sushi during our free period; she's never had that either! We'd be back before it ends though. You in?"

"You must come Will, Dustin said it will be 'tantalising',"

"Oh... shoot, I don't think I'll be able to," Will sighed, packing the box to one side, "I kinda promised I'd help Miles study today."

"Oh." El recoiled, "study... with you?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, "Chemistry, I guess."

El didn't immediately respond, telling herself it was fine and that it didn't matter, but there was a small twist in her gut. Why didn't Miles ask her? Everyone asked her. She was the one at the top, the one who even corrected the teacher; did Miles think that Will was smarter than her all because she was second for one exam?

Her lips pressed together in a thin line, "Strange. He didn't ask me."

Casually as ever, Will smiled, "Maybe he just wanted a guy. He looks like the type to get nervous around a pretty girl like you," the words in his mind tumbling out, wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Pretty? Pretty was never a word used to describe El.

Hot, sexy, desirable. Those were compliments she was used to hearing about her appearance. They merely saw her as a piece of meat with a brain they could exploit. When guys approached her, they tried flirting, giving her attention to use her body or mind.

Never for who she was.

But pretty. Like a flower, a porcelain vase, something delicate and beautiful. Was that how he saw her? Could more people see her like that? She smiled more genuine, choosing to believe Will's explanation at being overlooked.

Just this once.

"Hmm... I guess you're right," Her pout now softer. Instead of thinking of work, she turned back to Dustin, talking about the food they would sneak out to eat today.... she was defying her Papa and sadly, that never seemed to be a good sign.

Will sat quietly at his desk, listening to his friends with only one question on his mind:

Where the heck is Mike with his bag?

MIKE POV –

On the roof, Mike sat cross-legged on the makeshift table, his empty containers half-packed away. The breeze hit his face, flowing through his hair as he leaned his head back, staring up into the clouds.

Why did he do all of that? His mind replayed the previous events. Will's flustered expression, the way he bore his soul to answer questions, and the way Will even offered to clean up after him.

He meant it as a game, but the way Will acted continuously pulled him in. At first it was fun pushing Will around, seeing how much he could take, but why was the way he blushed and smiled so intriguing?

The image of Will sitting across from him at the makeshift rooftop table, spooning food he made into his mouth like he hadn't eaten properly in days... that stuck with him.

Everything Will said about himself made Mike want to learn more about him, "He must be scared to come out..." he mumbled,

Will was starving himself because he wanted to be attractive, wondering if he could ever be loved just because he was gay.

Why was he thinking so hard about this?

His eyes fluttered open, gaze shifting to Will's backpack abandoned on the ground. Mike offered to get it for him, and for what, just because he complimented Will before the realisation hit.

"Kinda cute for a guy." Mike muttered his previous slip-up. He laughed quietly, sheepish and more genuine.

He found himself smirking without meaning to, the usual cocky lips turned genuine. For once he chuckled to himself, his chest tightening unfamiliarly as he thought about the way Will's fists pounded against his back, squirming on his shoulder, cheeks flushed in a way Mike couldn't express.

He shook his head, dragging a hand through his messy hair. One by one, he packed the remaining Tupperware, all but few cleaned empty until he landed on the box of fries, the ones he prohibited Will from eating. He read the label, wondering what all the fuss was about.

It was just fried chicken.

With a little sigh, he placed the box in his cooler bag and slung it over his shoulder, before grabbing the pile of things he promised to retrieve, Will's schoolbag along with his own. The weight felt strange.

Through his never-ending smirk, Mike muttered, heading for the rooftop door and down the stairs.

"Guess I'm the errand-boy now..."

WILL POV -

---- ----

Something was strange in the library.

It was just him and Miles in the company of books, taking over a small table in the back, the occasional coughs and shuffles of papers from other students. Will sat beside Miles, pencil in hand watching over his shoulder. He started explaining the formulas slowly, the way he'd explain to Dustin or Lucas.

Yet, within five minutes, Will realised something weird. Miles wasn't struggling, like at all.

He caught onto formulas almost instantly, corrected his own mistakes and even muttered the next steps to equations under his breath before Will could intervene.

"You're really good at this..." Will whispered with furrowed brows, "I don't know why you even need me." He half-giggled.

"Uh, thanks?" his dark eyes set, "I just wanna be better or whatever."

Miles shrugged, shoulders broad as he removed his blazer. He didn't look embarrassed or annoyed, rather just indifferent. His gaze was penetrative, eyes sharp and deep, lingering on Will just a little too long. Will found himself breaking contact first, looking down at the workbook, pretending to be busy.

"Hmm... understandable." Will cleared his throat, "then uh, I guess we should move onto harder problems."

Miles only nodded, flipping to a fresh page in his handbook with precise movement. He didn't press further, neither elaborating why he really needed Will's help.

Will expected this to be like any other tutoring session, him patiently explaining concepts while Miles nodded along and asked questions, but it wasn't like that at all.

Miles was smart. Not on the level as Will or El, but sharp enough to keep up, his marks being in the top quarter of the classroom. Quickly enough, Will realised that he wasn't teaching, rather just studying alongside him, although Will didn't mind, he usually spent his free periods studying anyway.

Their notebooks covered the table, Will's ratted, second-hand covers contrasted Miles's new, pristine pages. Miles then ducked down, pulling out a small black laptop out his bag, casually resting it on the table.

Woah. Will had never even seen that make before.

Will did have a laptop, but just like everything else in his life, it was second-hand, and it needed to always be plugged into the wall as the battery refused to hold a charge. He was embarrassed to bring it anywhere.

"You brought a laptop?" Will whispered, glancing at the lit screen.

"Obviously," Miles said flat, not even bothering to look up from his screen as he logged in, fingers quick and steady on the keys. Buttons responded with each click to open a digital textbook.

"Oh right..." Will nodded, hand on his head as he mentally cursed himself. Of course, a rich kid like him would bring a laptop to school.

"This part I don't understand," Miles pointed, his long finger tapping the screen.

Narrowing his eyes, Will leaned over to read the text on the webpage, explaining as best he could. His voice was soft as he said, "You're over complicating it. See? I'll simplify it for you-" He struggled to read the text.

Noticing the struggle, Miles grabbed the foot of Will's chair, tugging it toward his. Will felt a screech as his chair scraped against the floor, getting closer to Miles. His heart skipped as he tried to shift back, wanting to keep his distance.

Will felt like a pervert when he was close to guys.

Just because he was gay.

Miles tugged the chair again, keeping him in a close orbit, "stay."

The word wasn't loud, neither forceful but carried weight. It was a quiet command making Will freeze for a moment. He almost fell off his chair at the proximity, his chest heaving at the way Miles' face didn't change, didn't react, he wasn't even looking at Will.

Jeez. That was kind of hot.

Will cursed himself immediately for even thinking of it. Miles was intimidating enough to make Will sit like a puppy over a singular word. Shaking his head, Will quickly continued his explanation, hoping he didn't stumble over his words, "R-right... so um, this reaction is reversable, that's why it stays in this form."

What cologne did Miles wear? It filled his every sense with something sharp and clean, cutting through the library air. Will tried to act unbothered, but his thoughts kept betraying him. He rambled as he forced himself through the questions, tapping on elements and answers like a lecturer.

Their chairs were too close, Miles's warmth was felt through Will when either shifted. The faint hiss of Miles' breath on Will's ear when he leaned forward to see the laptop better was too much for him.

Every second, Will was conscious of himself.

His stomach twisted. It wasn't just about being close to another boy. It was the crushing weight of his secret pressing down on him, making every brush feel dirty. He thought he looked like a creep. If Miles knew, or anyone else, would they still sit close to him? Or would history repeat itself?

Shame, guilt and sadness filled his every pore. He hated this feeling. He hated how every single action of his life was dictated by his sexuality; he changed the way he acted and dressed just to 'fit in'.

Why couldn't he be normal? Why couldn't he be like Dustin and Lucas who had relationships with the prettiest girls' ever seen. They weren't afraid to speak in fear of being mocked for their voice, never second-guess themselves over how they sat, or how a boy looked at them.

His once big smile now cast to a sullen, polite one as he turned his head back to the book, hiding his expression with his hair, "It's not as bad as it looks... once you understand what's what."

Miles tilted his head, studying the solution, then at Will only to see tufts of hair. His expression didn't change much as he hummed, "You make it sound easy."

"Don't worry. You'll do good." Will unintentionally noted despite the quiet voice, "I'm sure of it."

Miles didn't answer immediately. Eyes slipping sideways to catch Will's polite smile. He let out a little tuft of air, something between a scoff and a chuckle, "...are you always so... positive with everyone?"

Like being hit by a bucket of cold water, Will froze, smile faltering as he sat up straight, 'positive'? that wasn't a bad thing, was it? Positive was the same as being called 'perky' and in his experience that was never a good thing, "Oh, umm... I guess... it's just that I know you'll do good, sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck, once more self-conscious of how he acted.

"I didn't say it was bad." Miles replied, not waiting a beat, tone flat but not unkind. He shifted in his chair, now looking at Will more than the actual work, "...it suits you. better then frowning all the time."

Stunned into silence Will paused, his heart fluttering and heat creeping his ears. Even then, Miles didn't elaborate, merely turning back to his work like it was no big deal. The contrast between them only became further exacerbated, Will's bumbling awkwardness and Miles's shadowy persona.

"Um... thanks?" Will mumbled in subtle confusion, steadying himself after the comment, not knowing whether to blush or push Miles off the chair in awkwardness.

BZZZZ BZZZ

Cut out his thoughts, his phone vibrated on the table, a text lighting up the screen. He glanced down, seeing Mike's name light up in bold letters.

[MIKE]: Where are u?

[MIKE]: Come to the courtyrd

If only Will could block him.

Regardless, Will rose. His stomach sank as he hadn't even finished going over the problem with Miles yet. He locked his phone, ignoring the look he was getting from the shadowy boy beside him.

Plastering a polite smile, Will excused himself, "I'll be back in a few minutes. I just need to... go bathroom," his lie a little foreign on the tongue, but before he could take a step Miles's hand shot out grabbing the edge of his sleeve with unsettling precision. The grip wasn't rough, but it kept him in place like a chain on a boulder.

"You're ditching me." Miles said flat; it clearly wasn't a question.

"What?"

Will chuckled nervous, forcing a smile; what'd gotten into him? He wiggled his arm but to no avail for Miles's grip was unrelenting. His eyes were dark, boring into his soul, "You're lying. I can tell."

"Huh?!" Will's eyes bulged out his sockets. Why would Miles even know something like that? Was his face that telling? He couldn't tell if it was creepy, or by some misplaced neuron in Will's brain, a little cute.

What was wrong with him?

He couldn't dwell, not now. He softened his smile to be more natural, voice calm and whispered, "I promise I'm just going to the bathroom; I'll be right back."

Although he couldn't say for sure if he would return, it all depended on what Mike wanted; if it was something simple, that could be completed in a few minutes, but if he needed something out of school, then there was no time to return.

Eyes tracked him, the hand on his sleeve falling as Will moved back, hearing a quiet, "Okay then, don't take too long."

Will wasn't sure if that was a threat or polite request, but there was something almost possessive but oddly magnetic. Why did Will find this attractive? He nodded quietly before forcing himself out the library, leaving his bag with Miles.

Out the doors, Will half-ran, his steps matching the thump of his heart and rosy hue in his cheeks. His chest felt tight and his stomach did continuous flips when he replayed Miles's voice in his head.

Will pressed a hand to his forehead, wondering if he was going crazy, trying to smooth out the forming crinkles. It wasn't supposed to feel good; it was supposed to be creepy Miles was watching him, suffocating him, holding him back and becoming overall oddly possessive. Nonetheless, some traitorous part of his brain liked the way it made him feel.

"I'm crazy." He muttered under his breath.

Down the stairwell and into the courtyard, he glanced around to see Mike perched on a nearby bench clearly bored out his mind. He was on his phone, foot tapping up and down with earbuds in.

Will tapped his shoulder with a big smile, Mike turned with a raised brow, pulling an earbud out to engage himself in conversation, "What took you so long?"

"I was studying,"

"Studying? In a free period? You really are a nerd."

Rolling his eyes, Will shook his head to rid the rosy blush, "just tell me why you disturbed me?" voice curt with the ability to cut through glass.

"I'm thirsty." Mike announced with a tilted head, stretching his legs wide, virtually manspread.

"You're always thirsty."

"Cute." Mike smirked at the bite in Will's tone, not even offended, "Now, go get me something to drink."

He shook his head, scoffing with muttered insults. Of course he couldn't be free. Will thought after their more 'intimate' moment over lunch that maybe Mike would relinquish him of his duties, but perhaps it was wishful thinking.

Before he could turn away, the sound of quiet leather filled the air and Mike neatly unravelled a crisped bill from his wallet, "Here."

"What?"

Mike was the one to roll his eyes this time, forcing the cash into Will's hands, the touch a little too long. One hand held the bottom of his, "Go buy me a drink... And buy yourself something too."

Was this a joke? That's what he refrained from asking.

Will's expression faltered as his eyes flicked between the cash and Mike's unreadable gaze. His lips parted, but nothing came out, this request was different than usual; the tone was less an order and more like... something he couldn't pin.

"Wait..." Will almost recoiled, "what?"

"Are you slow today?" Mike teased, but there was no malice behind his words, "just get the drinks," he closed Will's hands over the money before pulling away.

Finally, Will looked down at the money and shoved it in his pocket. "Fine. But if this is some ploy then I'm throwing the drink at you."

His grin didn't falter; if anything, ir deepened, "Can't wait."

Will nodded, his steps slower as he walked, mind churning the entire way down; why did Mike give him money? Why tell him to get something for himself? He trudged into the cafeteria, the bills burning a hole in his pocket, muttering in annoyance the entire time.

He knew Mike wasn't the type to suddenly sprout kindness out of nowhere. Regardless, the fact he slipped money toward him made his blood rush away from his head, too lightheaded to deal with anything.

Was this pity?

By the time he reached the vending machines, the pounding of his heart against his ribcage was like a drum. Hovering in front of the rows of bright cans and bottles, Will bit his cheek. At this point in time, Will knew what soda Mike's liked like the back off his hand; was that all he was good for?

When it came to himself though, he hesitated, the choices endless. Orange juice, cola, lemon tea or perhaps a cold coffee; all choices Mike would have expected him to grab, but no matter what he did, he couldn't punch those numbers in, he didn't want to waste money over something so futile, even if it were from the man who was blackmailing him.

One-fifty millilitres of water.

That's where his eyes landed, it was cheap and if he returned empty handed, he knew Mike would just send him back. It thumped against the tray as Will bent down, grabbing both items. His reflection stared back at him; what was wrong with him?

Still, he adjusted the drinks in his arms, shuffling back to the courtyard with a little resigned sigh. When he returned, he saw Mike staring at the sky, head tipped back, Adam's-apple bobbing in his throat.

He only moved when he heard Will's shoes scrape against the concrete, and without missing a beat he straightened up, smiling a little brighter than usual, hand out expectedly, "Soda?"

Will plopped down the can into his palm with a little scoff, "Here."

Cracking it open, a hiss filled the air and Mike took an exaggerated swig, "Mm. perfect. And it's still cold," his eyes flicked down to Will's face, eyes stopping on Will's hazel ones staring back, "You always get to me quick, have you considered track-and-field?"

"Ew." Will scrunched his face, "I hate running."

"Figures." Mike grinned, "You seem more like an artist."

He stiffened, "Haha, don't be ridiculous! Why would I like... art?" his tone betraying his thoughts, keeping the usual personality he did when someone brought up the prospect of art; he was conditioned to hate everything creative.

Guys aren't supposed to be artists; his bullies reminded him of it severely.

Sensing his obvious fake tone, Mike smiled, staring deep into his hazel eyes, "liar." He let out a little chuckle, "what about 'little Will'?"

"Huh?"

'Your little wizard charm?" Mike elaborated.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Will feigned innocence through his embarrassed hue.

"It's a shame though." Mike ignored the act, "You don't bring it around anymore. I thought it was cool."

Laughing it off was his first instinct, of course Mike was teasing him as per usual, "Right," Will muttered, rolling his eyes half-sarcastic, "Very funny."

For a moment, their was no words exchanged, the quiet filling the air and when Will glanced back, he saw no smirk or evil grin, just a neutral expression as though taking his time to respond.

Was Mike actually being nice?

"You made it yourself. It was cool." He repeated, shoving his hands into his pockets, voice softer as he looked away embarrassed, "Not everything I say is a joke, y'know."

Will bit the inside of his cheek, nervously smiling as he fiddled with the cap of his bottle unsure if Mike genuinely complimented him or if this were some sort of long-con.

"...woah." Mike's gaze lingered on his lips for a second too long, and before he could catch himself,

"What?" Will narrowed his eyes.

"Nothing." Mike smirked as though he was caught off-guard, "didn't think you had such a nice smile."

Will blinked, but by the way Mike barely reacted, Will wondered if he was hallucinating. "Huh?" he stammered in a small voice,

Only realising a little too late, Mike broke eye contact, reaching into is cooler bag and pulling out a little carton of fries from earlier in hopes to change the subject, and shoved it into Will's arms as an afterthought.

"Here. Take this back." Mike muttered like the fries were suddenly the most important thing in the world. "They're a little cold,"

Will stared at the box, than back at Mike, chest thudding against his ribcage with a sudden warmth, "oh... I thought you threw them away,"

"Nope" Mike didn't explain himself, "Now go back to your nerd dungeon before El blows her lid."

Holding the fries Mike shoved at him, Will corrected, "Oh, I'm not studying with El."

"How sad. Poor little lonely nerd." He chuckled absentmindedly, "Do you want me to keep you company?"

"I'm not alone," Will smiled at the box in his hand, "I'm studying with Miles"

"Oh, yeah?" Mike froze, fist tightening, knuckles white despite his neutral expression. He titled his head lazily, nodding in thought, as if the answer didn't matter at all.

Will didn't offer any more, face plain with honesty. He adjusted the fries in his hands, walked past Mike and back into the building. Mike watched him go, eyes flickering to study the way Will didn't look back, shoulders loose and less on edge than he usual way.

Then with him.

He huffed, running a hand through his hair before looking away, forcing the tension out, "tch whatever." He clicked, acting casual as he shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes betraying his thought.

Why did he even care?

Meanwhile, Will slipped back into the quiet of the library, clutching the bottle of water and the fries Mike had handed him earlier. A truly weird combination. Miles was still sitting where Will had left him, hunched over his laptop with his usual sharp eyes.

He took his seat, eyes immediately landing on him debating if Will would actually return. His fingers paused at the keyboard, muttering under his breath, "... huh. You came back." A little surprised

"Of course I did." Will smiled soft, setting his water down before fixing his hair, tucking strands behind his ears, "We aren't done yet,"

Miles didn't respond but something warm hidden behind his eyes lit. He looked at him like he was studying an artifact, dragging his chair to shrink the distance between them. This time Will didn't stiffen, the space between them filled with a warmth he couldn't pinpoint.

"You got food?" he whispered.

"Oh! Um..." Will blushed embarrassed, did he appear like a glutton? "it was just my lunch... I um, misplaced it?" he lied, the answer sounding more like a guilty question.

"How do you misplace lunch?"

"It's a... long story."

"Okay... I guess." Miles didn't bother asking and Will didn't bother elaborating.

They returned to where they left off. Miles pointed out a graph he was stuck on, voice low and quiet, oddly heavy. Will leaned in to carefully explain every point,

Miles listened in silence, eyes narrowing and every so often he asked a question that was startlingly precise, showing he'd absorbed more than Will expected. He didn't fidget or look distracted like most, he just focused. It made Will's skin prickle.

"I think you've got the hang of this!" Will mumbled, nervously chuckling as he pushed the hair out his face, "You might be top of the class next time."

When he looked up, dark eyes stared back at him, curly hair hiding his forehead. The words hung heavy in the air, oxygen feeling thin at the way they stared into each other's eyes.

Eye contact was not Will's strong suit, so why couldn't he pull away?

Miles's lips twitching upwards, threatening a smile, "You're better."

Will stiffened at the proximity, heat crawling his neck. He tried to shift away discreetly but Miles's hand landed on the side of his chair, steadying it, pulling back just slightly.

Stomach-flipping. Will's breath caught, unsure if he was nervous, flattered or trapped. A guilty thought flared within, churning his gut and flooding his neurons. He shouldn't like the way Miles' presence kept him grounded, neither the way he felt something electric at the possessive praise.

But he did.

Why did he go crazy over cute guys? Will could feel his heart thumping like crazy, why did they need to be so close? Their shoulders kept clashing, light brushes making Will's rosy hue flair; he was going to get hives at this point.

Miles's gaze was too sharp, steady and threatened to peel Will apart like an over-ripe banana. Will's throat bobbed, a nervous swallow but he didn't look away either.

Then, the library doors swung open.

A familiar voice cut through the void like thunder, "Oh wow, Will, what a surprise you're here too!"

---- ----

4735 Words

Sorry for my delays, but dw, i am working hard everyday to produce new chapters

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV -

No. not now.

Will flinched at the deafening sound, pen slipping from his finger and leaving a black line on his blazer, thankfully it was unnoticeable. He scrunched his eyes, not daring to turn as the silence was replaced by a degrading laugh.

Mentally, he pleaded not to be who he thought it was.

Then, collecting all his courage, he turned around to see the boy he just brought a drink for. What was he doing here? Will told him he was here, sure, but never expected him to appear, Will didn't even think Mike knew where the library was.

Like a flea to a dung pile, Mike was present, striding into the library like he owned the place, just like he did at Will's job daily. His sneakers squeaked against the polished floor, aura filling the room.

Only now did Will notice Mike was wearing non-uniform shoes; how was he never given a uniform sanction?

Mortified, Will hunched with burning cheeks, hoping Mike came for some unrelated reason. Miles's expression soured, eyes following Mike with something almost filled with irritation.

Will wanted to sink into the ground.

Mike stood between the pair, causing a divide as he leaned forward. Over his shoulder, Mike smirked, his hoodie sleeve brushing Will's arm. "What's this?" he picked a paper, "This makes no sense." He furrowed his brows at the paper, only half-acting clueless.

"It's concerning you don't know." Will rolled his eyes, snatching the paper back, resisting the urge to snap back with a sarcastic quip, "It's Chemistry."

"Woah..." Mike chuckled, ignoring the eyes he got from both boys, "I didn't know you were so focused on this study 'date'." His tone was innocent but the curve of his mouth and emphasis on the last word was anything but.

Was he alluding to what Will thought he was? Will bit his tongue, muttering a warning under his breath, "Mike...?" he asked, glancing at Miles who was suspiciously scanning.

Mike didn't stop, instead doubling down, "What?" his eyes gleamed with mischief. "I'm just saying you're studying together." He feigned innocence, "I bet you'd like someone who is smart... right?"

"Shut up." Will hissed sharp, hating the way Mike was acting. He was acting so nice and normal earlier, what was with the sudden switch? Of course Will shouldn't have given Mike the benefit of the doubt. But why did he give him money earlier and do a 'good deed' if he was going to ruin it by doing something like this?

The librarian's eyes shifted to them, analysing their escalating voices with a little warning, "Uh... Boys!"

"Sorry." Will mumbled,

However, Mike didn't seem to mind her protests, rather, he dropped himself opposite, sitting across Will with all the subtly of a dangerous thunderstorm, drumming the table with his fingers like he was already bored. His eyes flicked to Miles, sizing him up.

"So," Mike began, leaning back in his chair, legs stretched under the table, poking out the other side, "You swim, right?"

"Yeah." Miles's gaze snapped up, calm but monotone, "And I'm guessing you do nothing of note."

"Has anyone ever told you that you look emo?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you reek?" Miles retort.

Will's eyes flicked between them; what was going on before his every eyes? There was strange animosity between them, yet Will was more worried at being kicked out. He glanced at the librarian, hoping she ignored the rising noise.

Not remotely offended, Mike only smirked with his usual cocky grin, "I'm flattered you have opinions on me." He lifted a brow, "at least people remember me." He chuckled to himself.

"You're mumbling," Miles' voice was flat, "Get the marbles out your mouth."

Enjoying the pushback, Mike leaned on his elbows, "I don't know how Will talks to you... you don't seem like much."

Will's eyes burned, shooting a glare. His chest tightened, hating how his pulse skyrocketed, not liking what was going on, "Umm... guys?"

Neither guy listened to him, Miles's jaw tightened but his face stayed unbelievably still as he leaned closer as if perching for attack. "We're working. Some of us care about grades."

Mike scoffed, "Well grades are cool and all..." he paused, teasingly looking away, "But it seems you both are really close right now. You always sit this close to guys, swim team?"

The tension was palpable as neither backed down, voices low and quiet but each syllable lacing with venom as Will sat in the middle of it all, hunched over with hands covering his face to mask embarrassment. He could feel the heat itching his neck, the librarian's eyes burning holes in the back of his head while all he wanted was to sink into the ground.

"Mike." Will warned once more, shooting a sharp glare.

At the reprimand, Mike appeared to simmer down as if he realised somewhere deep-down that he was going too far; although, his expression refused to change. He looked between Will and Miles, almost scoffing as he shook his head with an inner chuckle, "I'm just kidding. I'm not here to police anyone."

With that, he pushed his chair back with a deliberate scrape, standing tall and rolling his shoulders as though he was bored of this entire game he created. His eyes lingered on Will for a few seconds, something unreadable behind his dark irises before shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Good luck with your study date." Mike announced to Will, not even bothering to acknowledge Miles's presence; letting the words hang like a thick fog. Without waiting a response, he turned toward the door with a half-hearted wave, leaving the click of the handle in his wake.

One second, then another.

Will sat frozen, brows furrowed and mouth agape, wondering where Mike got the audacity to do something like that, it had no rational behind it.

He didn't think too long before muttering tired, "... I don't know what that was," he admitted, eyes flicking to meet Miles's "Sorry about... whatever that was."

"Is he your friend?" Miles asked instantly.

"No... well, it's kinda hard to explain."

"Do you deal with him a lot?" he asked slow, voice carrying his usual unnerving edge. He seemed genuinely confused, like he couldn't distinguish if Mike's behaviour were a joke or some sort of warped bullying ploy.

Letting out a weak laugh, Will flashed his pearly whites nervously, but his eyes flicked toward the door Mike had just disappeared from, thinking about his behaviour. For some reason, it stuck with him longer than it should have.

It was subtle, but Mike did treat him differently...

Will shook his head, "he... just normally acts like this."

---- Friday ----

"No dad. I can't lend you money this time." Will sighed before his father was even able to pass the threshold of the cafe, tired of this constant motion. His dad moved closer to his workstation, looking the same as always, same shirt over his vest, hair silver, and his stubble unkept.

"Hey sport," he completely ignored Will's words, speaking in a higher pitched tone like he was trying to sound cheerful, "Look at you working hard, huh?"

He pressed his lips together, begrudgingly giving him the benefit of the doubt, "So what are you doing here dad?"

Lonnie leaned an elbow against the counter, looking around like he owned the place, "What? A guy can't come see his boy? I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd drop in to see my favourite son."

Flattery. Will knew what that meant, "You live in Indianapolis."

Lonnie chuckled, scratching the back of his neck before lowering his voice a bit, "Actually kid..."

There it was. of course there was a reason why he'd come see his son out the blue. It wasn't out of love. Will had to resist the urge to audibly scoff.

"I was hoping you could do your old man a favour. I'm in a bit of a pinch right now, money's tight, you know how it is. Just until payday. Fifty bucks or so." His voice was smooth, practised as though it was the way he talked to everyone.

Will gave a thin, polite smile, one that didn't reach the eyes, "Dad I don't have the extra money." He spoke quietly, glancing toward the computers, last thing he needed was customers overhearing... especially a certain customer.

Mike sat mere feet way, not even bothering to hide behind a computer. And despite the headphones plugged into his ears, it was clear by his posture that he was actively listening, his peripheral vision fixed on Will and the man leaning across the counter.

Lonnie let out a forced laugh, hand clenched a little too tight, "c'mon kiddo. You can't hold out on your own dad; it's just a couple of bucks." His tone tinted with sweetness, "You're not gonna let your old man down, right?"

Will's stomach twisted. He hated that tone, the way his father filled him with guilt every single time, making Will appear as the selfish one if he said no. His hands itched to slam the register or make a comment, but he bit his tongue.

"I don't have anything to spare. Seriously."

It was his mother's request that Will remain at the very least cordial with his father. And it was his father's request not to tell his mother about lending him money.

Lonnie's smile faltered as it always did. His eyes narrowed with sharp intent for a second before plastering his charm, "Alright, alright. I just thought that family helps family."

Family? Will resisted the urge to snap or remind his father of the previous times he'd come to his work; Each time, he needed money and then left for an unspecified amount of time. That wasn't family. They haven't been family since he abandoned them.

"Tell me the truth." Will's eyes flicked up, unable to stop the words bubbling to the surface, "You lost money gambling again. Didn't you?"

"Is that a kind of question to ask your father?" Lonnie's voice was stern, scolding his son for his 'stupid' question, but what he failed to realise was that his son was no longer nine, he knew how to hold his own... and he was more stubborn.

"It's my money you're using."

Lonnie's glare intensified, but he answered because he knew Will wouldn't give money otherwise, "It's so I can return your money back quicker, think of it as an investment."

Will sighed, hanging his head low in annoyance, he wasn't even angry, of course he knew how his father was, he'd never be any more surprised by him, "How are you this bad at gambling?" his tone wasn't cruel, but the question accusatory in disbelief, "you go every week. You think you'd learn it by now."

"I get unlucky."

"It's not luck. Its maths." Will spoke sharp, explaining his point. He didn't want his father to gamble, but if he was going to... could he at least win?

Lonnie froze for half a second, smirk fading before leaning over the counter, breath wafting of cheap coffee and smoke. His tone filled with simmering offence, "Look at you. Now I know there's a reason your top of the class." His voice low enough to not draw attention, but sharp enough to be threatening,

Will kept his gaze steady, letting the words run off his back; he knew what his father wanted to say, to demand and curse Will out until he passed the money. Every time Lonnie came around it was the same ordeal, sweet bitterness, every compliment laced in a facade.

"I didn't say I was better than you." Will murmured, a little quieter, "I'm just saying, maybe if you keep losing, you shouldn't gamble away money you don't have."

"Fuck, you sound just like your mother." Lonnie scoffed frustrated, running a hand through his silver hair, "You think I came here for a lecture? You think I don't have enough crap already?"

Will kept his lips sealed tight. He wanted to yell back, explain how pathetic his father was acting, but he held his tongue. Instead, clenching his fists, tips of his nails biting into skin. The silence only fuelled his father's temper.

"For fuck's sake Will, I wouldn't be here asking if I had the money," he barked, voice cracking at the intensity, half-desperate, half-angry, "I'm your father! You think the world's easy out there?"

Will opened his mouth, finally finding the words to say, he wanted to speak eloquently, tell his father to lower his voice and explain how his behaviour was inappropriate and honestly embarrassing.

"Enough."

A sudden voice cut through the void.

Both Will and Lonnie turned. Mike stood from his usual seat, chair rolling behind as he strolled over to the counter. His posture was casual, but something in his eyes made Lonnie hesitate. Mike pulled out a folded wad of cash from his wallet, peeling a few bills and slapping them onto the counter between them.

"There. Take it and get lost." Mike said flat. His voice wasn't raised neither angry; he was serious.

Lonnie blinked, thrown off by the interaction, but felt no shame as he snatched the cash and pulled it in his pocket, not even bothering to count, but knew it was more than what he asked Will for. He gave a crooked grin, "I'll pay it back." He admitted only to save face, but it was clear he would never.

Then, not waiting a second more, he turned, saying his goodbyes but mentally calculating what he could do with the money.

Behind him, Mike gave a little sarcastic wave as Lonnie slipped into the night, taking his distinct scent with him. Mike exhaled slowly as though he'd done something heroic, and then turned to Will with a faint, smug smile, "Well, crisis averted. You're welcome."

He expected gratitude, relief, or maybe something more.

But the face he was greeted by was cold, glaring, flame in his eyes. Will didn't smile, rather burning in anger, shame and something else entirely. He stared at Mike, teeth grinding to dust, ready to jump over the counter and throttle him.

"Why did you do that?" Will asked, jaw tight.

"He was being an asshole," Mike shrugged, thrown off by the tone, he thought he'd be greeted by gratitude, not hostility, "someone needed to shut him up, so I figured I'd do you a favour."

"a favour?" Will's voice rose, not enough to cause a scene, but undeniably with a dangerous edge. His eyes glistened, not in sadness but pure frustration, "you shouldn't have done that."

Taken aback, Mike furrowed a brow, "What? I just saved your ass. Your old man was two seconds away from shaking you down in front of everyone." He gestured toward the café as if reminding Will the number of possible witnesses.

"I didn't need saving." Will shot back, "I didn't ask you to step in. that was between me and him."

Mike frowned in return, smirk fading to something defensive, "are you fucking with me right now? He was yelling at you, demanding money. I gave him cash to shut him up. You're welcome by the way."

"I wasn't planning on thanking you." Will's hands curled into fists, "You completely bulldozed me. Who do you think you are?" his breath shaky with frustration.

"Can you just be grateful?" Mike kept his usual bravado but deep down his words betrayed his thoughts.

"How can I?" Will huffed, pushing himself off the counter and grabbing Mike's arm, dragging him down the hall like he was physically hauling the frustration out of him rather than letting them simmer within.

Down the hall, Will allowed the breakroom door to bang shut behind them; fluorescent strip lights buzzed above while the room smelt faintly off disinfectant, old coffee, and air-fresheners.

"You had no right." Will hissed, throwing Mike's hand back to himself, pacing up and down the small room, "you can't just give him like a hundred dollars and act like that's alright. You think I want to have my dad showing up here making a scene?"

His voice cracked at the confession, shoving his hands through his hair, fingers tangling as he pulled forcefully, a normal tic he experienced when he was stressed, half to sooth, half to punish. The night Mike found out he was gay Will plucked out almost an entire wig-full of hair.

"Hey-" Mike began but cut off.

"And the worst part is I can't even pay you back, fuck I can barely pay for my bus pass; I can't pay for this too!" He vented.

Following him with his eyes, Mike stood at the opposing side of the the room, arms crossed. He would usually interject, make comments or argue back, but for some reason, he couldn't, not when Will was acting like this.

He was almost worried.

Mike was watching, really watching him with something like alarm in his eyes. The teasing edge he wore disappeared. Acting on instinct, he stepped forward to intercept Will's path and grabbed both Will's wrists,

"Stop." Mike said firm, voice low and calm, a command laced with worry. His grip was tight enough to be felt, but not enough to hurt. Will froze, fingers tangled in his hair as he blinked at Mike with wide eyes, stopping mid-motion.

Softening his grip, Mike kept the wrists held but leaned forward, almost face to face, bridging the tiny gap between them. Up close, Will could see the corner of Mike's mouth soften, the usual teasing edge replaced by something genuine.

"Breathe." He whispered, and for once there was no sarcasm behind his words. "Everything is okay. You don't have to pay me back."

Will struggled in the grip, shoulders shaking, unclear whether from relief or anger. His chest heaved. He pressed his eyes tight in frustration and exhaustion,

"Just leave me alone!" Will burst out, voice raw, "This is all your fault anyways!" The words tumbling out sharper than a blade.

Mike froze, his grip loosening as his expression changed, confusion flashing his features before settling down, "my fault?" he echoed.

Will didn't mean what he was saying, but all his anger, sadness and stress filled his every pore, he doubled down on his point, expressing the weight he kept within, "Leave me alone."

Mike didn't flinch at the volume, but he did at the words.

Slowly, he dropped Will's wrists gently as if scared of damaging something so fragile, stepping back with a little exhale. For once, he didn't snap back with a retort. His mouth opened like he wanted to explain, but he was at a loss for words.

Will staggered back, wrapping his arms around himself as though trying to keep his organs from seeping out his body. His eyes flashed across the room, and the silence that held was louder than any shouting.

"I didn't think this through. I just saw how he was treating you and I just acted on instinct. I thought if I paid him off, he'd leave you alone." He looked down at the floor instead of Will, bravado gone.

Will's heart hammered in his chest, "Just leave."

Mike shoved his hands deep into his pockets, rocking back on his heels, turning his face away to hide his expression. Then, with a little huff, he faced the door, tutting reluctant, "Fine. You want me gone. I don't care."

He gave one last look, one long enough to read the hidden hurt in his posture, but not long enough for it to be seen. Then he turned away, pushing open the breakroom door and walking out with heavy steps.

Will stayed behind with a heaving chest,  pounding unevenly, staring at the door Mike left from. The room was colder now, much emptier, but now with more space to breathe.

Under his breath, he whispered, "Why does he have to make everything so complicated?"

---- Sunday ----

Utter silence.

Will perched on his desk, nervously waiting, glancing at the door every time the bell rang. His stomach was twisted with unease, hair messy and eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He'd tossed and turned all night, checking his phone for a text that never came.

Days passed since the incident, and it had been radio silence from Mike.

No teasing, no commands, no threats, no mocking little reminders... nothing.

Yesterday was hellish, he couldn't concentrate on his job, his homework was half-hearted, and he was barely able to keep himself upright. In a weird twist, he wanted Mike to stroll in like what had become the norm and flop onto the nearest chair.

The hours dragged. Will's eyes burned the page of his workbook, losing track of people who were entering and leaving, he stared so long at the same word that Robin had to shake him to ensure he was still conscious.

She couldn't know. No one could know what he was feeling.

He only had one thought on his mind; why wasn't Mike here?

Was it because he shouted at him?

No, Will didn't care if he hurt Mike's emotions; it was the gnawing, encroaching feeling that Mike was planning something, waiting for Monday before striking when school was in full swing, just so his humiliation would be fresh on their minds.

Spiralling thoughts filling the crevasse of his brain. He blamed everything on Mike, screamed and shouted at him when he was trying to help. What if the fight pushed him too far? What if Mike told everyone he was gay?

He hated how he felt right now; it was almost as though Mike wanted him to stew like this, keep him sweating and scared until he begged for forgiveness.

He took out his phone, staring at the screen, the black nothingness staring back. He typed out half a dozen messages; apologising, asking forgiveness, the possibility of his appearance, but he deleted them all before hitting send.

Where had Mike gone? The unknown was the scariest.

Either way, Will had to await this gruelling day, only the sickening dread of what may happen to him tomorrow kept him in check.

---- ----

3618 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV -

---- Monday ----

Across the hall stood Mike next to a beautiful girl, one he was undeniably flirting with. Will felt like a stalker watching the two, trailing like paparazzi following a celebrity they loved.

Will walked on eggshells.

His nerves bundled and wound up in tight coils around his limbs. Every sound and brush of wind made him jump. He'd come prepared, bringing extra everything; pens, notebooks, even underwear like he was preparing for a battle. Will knew the different types of humiliation, and he wanted to be prepared.

Then, he struck.

Heart jackhammering, Will darted forward, snatching Mike's wrist and yanking him into an empty classroom, the girl he was with still talking before noticing he was even gone. To her, he simply vanished into thin air; her eyes darted around, almost as though he was a figment of her imagination.

In the privacy of the deserted classroom, Will poked his head out the doorframe, looking both ways before sliding it closed, breathing deep. He was calm, tranquil like an ocean despite his pulsating fingertips, ignoring the lingering low chuckle under Mike's breath from being manhandled.

"Well this is certainly fun," Mike addmited, low and teasing.

"Here. take it." Will cut him off, shoving an envelope into Mike's chest,

Mike recoiled at the force; brows furrowed in confusion. Mike appeared normal, uncaring without a care in the world. He merely peeked inside the envelope before shutting the flap.

"You're giving me money now?" Mike snorted in amusement.

"It's the money you gave my dad. All of it. I don't want to owe you anything." Will admitted, it was harder to get this money then he made it appear; he had little savings that didn't go toward necessities...

He budgeted and cut just enough to scrounge up the hundred dollars... guess he'd need to be more frugal this month.

Mike looked down and then back at Will, one brow raised lazily, "Wow," he said, lips twitching upwards, "I thought I was being kidnapped, turns out it was only about this?" he pushed the money back, "Relax man, I'm not stressed about this money,"

He really wasn't. This money to Mike was mere pennies, equivalent to peanuts, but to Will it was an almost life-changing amount.

However, Will didn't listen to reason, determined to return this money no matter what, "I said take it," to get this weight off his chest, "I don't want your charity. You had no right to-"

"Charity?" Mike cut him off with a scoff, "that's what you think that was about?" He brushed it off, "I gave the money because he was disturbing me with his voice. End of story. Don't make this a whole production."

"What? Why aren't you..." Will trailed off, the thudding in his chest dissolving. Mike wasn't angry, nor gloating or threatening to spill his secret. He was acting like how he always did, if not a little nicer. It was like the previous fourty-eight hours of Will's paranoia had never crossed his mind.

"Why aren't I what? Mad? Freaking out? Exposing you?" he faintly smirked, leaning on a desk with a tilted head, watching Will squirm, "Hate to break it to ya, but I've got better things to do."

Will stared at him, stomach twisting, unable to tell if Mike's calm was a relief or something much more terrifying.

"So, you didn't tell anyone then?" his statement sounding more like a question.

Mike dark eyes flicked up, steady and readable, "didn't I just say that?" he rolled his eyes dramatically, chuckling under his breath.

"Right... I just needed to hear it." Will swallowed hard, relief spreading into his chest. Despite that, his admission was quiet and his eyes darted to the ground. Allowing the silence to surround them, Will finally found his voice again, "Then... why didn't you show up this weekend?"

Taken aback, Mike didn't answer for a second because something warm and fuzzy pierced his stomach. Tearing his eyes away, he cleared his throat before returning with a taunt in his usual tone, "Aww, you missed me?" he leaned a little closer,

"Shut up." Will hid his face as he mentally scolded himself for asking that question.

"Don't be like that." Mike teased, "it's not your fault. No one else can be away from me for too long."

"Must be withdrawal." Will deadpanned sarcastically.

Clearly entertained, Mike chuckled like it were an afterthought, "Relax. I wasn't avoiding you or anything." His tone softened just a touch. "Had to help my sister with some art project. Took my whole fucking weekend."

"Oh..." Will blinked in surprise at how simple the explanation was; he expected it was some sort of mind game, but instead it was... mundane. "Your sister?"

So, it wasn't about him.

"Yeah," Mike stuffed his hands into his pockets, "She needed some last-minute inspiration or something so she dragged me all around Indiana," He huffed, "but it's whatever." For a moment, his mask slipped, looking almost proud; it was like his tough guy persona fell.

Will's brow knit, nodding along while simultaneously attempting to rid the humiliation he felt, "so that was why..." he muttered.

"What, you're sad you couldn't see me?" Mike grinned again, fixing his hair and flexing an arm dramatically, smirking in a way that made his muscles tense under his hoodie, "honestly, it is a tragedy to deprive you of my presence," he winked, clearly proud of himself.

His ego reached the roof.

Up and down, Will scanned as Mike continued posing, somewhere caught between disbelief and second-hand embarrassment. The thudding in his chest ceased, replaced by an undecipherable stare like he couldn't decide if it were some elaborate joke or if Mike actually believed his own words.

Will sharply exhaled, trying his utmost not to mock or laugh at the scene. The embarrassment he had for himself travelled, feeling embarrassed for Mike instead, watching him flashing his assets like a peacock spreading its feathers.

"You're unbelievable," Will shook his head, covering the giggle on his lips, but there was no venom in his voice. All the anger, sadness, and pain he felt from the prior days melted away.

And he just laughed.

---- ----

"Is this a 'for' or 'against'?" Lucas muttered, slumping back against the bench, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

He furiously scribbled in the loud of the cafeteria, not popping his secluded little bubble. He had his book stretched open before him with neatly divided lists spread across the page, separated with a thick, bold line.

"She hasn't called me in days, and she's ignoring half my texts..." he sighed in frustration,

Will finally arrived, joining him at the table, "What are you doing?"

"I think me and Max are broken up."

"Again?" Will shook his head, "You both need to calm down."

"It's different this time." He explained, "I don't know if we're even broken up."

"How does that even work?"

"It's like.... Max is impossible to read. One minute she's cursing me out, and the next she looks at me like I'm still hers." Lucas sighed, "I can't tell if she's punishing me or something... I don't know what I did."

Will passed a sympathetic smile and a thoughtful head-tilt, "I'm sure you're still together..." he was a little nervous, having no clue what to do with people in a relationship, "What have you got so far?"

"Well..." he began, turning the page to allow Will to see the lists, "We haven't hung out since Thursday, but she left a energy drink on my desk before basketball practice, so I'm so very confused."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but if you have to make a list over whether or not you're broken up, maybe you should just ask her."

Lucas sighed, brows raised with a little pout, "You make it sound easy. This is Max we're talking about."

Chuckling soft, Will smiled softly, nudging the paper back to his friend, "True." He hummed, "but Max doesn't seem like the type to like being second-guessed. She'd probably respect you most for asking rather than making lists."

"You're probably right... but she's terrifying." He suddenly thought of another note for the 'for' column, "she hates being called terrifying," he muttered under his breath.

Half-amused and half-concerned, Will shook his head; he didn't think that was a 'for' or 'against', that was just a straight-up fact, "so what's the score now?"

Lucas glanced at his neat handwriting, "Broken up; eight. Not broken up; seven."

"So basically tied," Will smirked.

"Kill me now." Lucas slumped forward, groaning into his folded arms. Then a thought, a brilliant, amazing thought popped into his mind. With a little sneaky smile he lifted his head, mustering the brightest expression he could as he opened his mouth, "Will..."

Will froze, this wasn't going to be good.

"Would you mind asking her for me?"

"What?!" He recoiled.

"C'mon, its only one question, all you have to do is ask if we're still together," he explained,

"Why don't you do it? she's your girlfriend."

"Because, if I ask her and we are still together, then she'll break up with me anyways," he rationalises, "you're a neutral party."

"Why don't you have Dustin do it?"

"And where is he Will?" Lucas dramatically threw his hands in the air knowing Dustin was somewhere having an e-date with Suzie. Will opened and closed his mouth as Lucas continued, "Besides if you ask she won't get defensive or joke around. She'll actually answer."

"That's cause we've barely spoke."

"Perfect!" he gave a thumbs up to accentuate his point, "so she'll answer."

Will raised a hand, "Or she'll think I'm a creep, or making a pass at her or something."

"Trust me, she wouldn't." Lucas tilted his head, "she actually thinks you're pretty cool even if you don't talk... don't tell her I said that."

Shaking his head, not believing the words spewing out, Will was still sceptical to help, "And what if-"

"Please dude?" Lucas gave a pleading look, the kind that made Will's resolve start to crumble; why did his heart have to be so soft?

"Let's say I ask her." He started before quickly adding, "-and I'm not saying I will. What if she asks why, or I get too nervous?"

"Then you can tell her the truth!" he claimed confident, yet too dramatic, "Tell her I'm too much of a coward to face her, and I can't stand the thought of losing her."

Will blinked, looking him up and down. This display was embarrassing, too much for his friend to act out in the middle of a packed cafeteria, but at least he was fearless and determined. Will wondered if he would be this dramatic if he had a boyfriend, but then quickly threw the thought out his head; no, he must not indulge.

This Lucas he was conversing with was different; it wasn't the confident, suave basketball player he was used to, this was unfamiliar... softer.

He must really like her.

Resistance crumbled almost immediately, Will snapped his eyes shut, scrunching the bridge of his nose with the tips of his fingers. Releasing a little groan, he gave in, "fine... I'll do it." he paused, "but you owe me!"

"Sure man! Whatever you want!" Lucas gleamed, essentially bouncing up and down in his seat.

The pair returned to Lucas's list, scribbling down more points despite Will's acceptance. Will remained opposite him, indulging this spiral whilst looking like he was reconsidering every life choice that led him here.

Then, without so much as a greeting, a loud thud hit the chair beside him, immediately disrupting the rhythm of the conversation.

"I need a word," Mike addressed Will like Lucas wasn't there.

Will sighed, already bracing himself, though he was quietly glad Mike was talking and not exposing him after Friday's incident. He attempted to excuse himself with a half-hearted excuse, yet Mike waved a hand over, stopping him mid-raise,

"Don't bother getting up, this is gonna be quick." He was basically brimming to leave, "I'm gonna go make out with some girl. Cover for me in class, yeah?"

It wasn't a request; it was a command.

Will blinked, digesting the information as he sat fully back down on the seat, "...okay?" his voice flat, confused and almost bored as if he expected Mike to make a command like this; it wasn't very surprising, "You came all the way to tell me this?"

"You weren't picking up your phone." Mike answered a little too quick. Why was he here? It wasn't as if he cared about whether he turned up to class or not... why did he come all this way to tell Will, when this could have been a simple text? Was it just so he could boast, or some other reason entirely?

He watched Will scramble for his phone, checking his texts and passing a small, sheepish smile as if he were caught cheating. Will quietly apologised and placed his phone back down without another word,

Mike half expected Will to lecture, tell him how he was being stupid and the importance of education, but this time he didn't react; it was simply as though he didn't care. Will just looked at him like he was waiting for the conversation to be over. Something in Mike's chest pinched, a strange feeling of irritation and... disappointment.

Why did he care if Will didn't advise him not to skip lessons?

Internally, Mike huffed. Externally he masked it with a cocky smirk, "Good errand  boy," he teased, ruffling the top of Will's head, messing his hair up. Under his touch, he felt Will growl, and it made Mike's smile turn genuine, "Knew I could count on you."

Then, he took off, taking his bag with him. he raised a hand to wave, not bothering to turn his head back as he left the cafeteria.

Lucas meanwhile had frozen, poised to write. His eyes darted between Will's natural demeanour, like this was a common occurrence, and Mike's retreating figure. "... Okay, wait," Lucas set his pen down, "Since when are you two friends?"

Friends? Is that how this whole ordeal appeared? How does he explain the reality of their situation without exposing himself?

Short answer: he couldn't.

Will passed an awkward smile, waving a dismissive hand like it wasn't worth explaining, "He's just... someone I know."

Brows furrowed in suspicion, Lucas leaned closer, "just someone you know who tells you to cover for him?"

Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying not to look as cornered as he felt, "it's not a big deal. We just know each other."

"Huh... seems like it." Lucas leaned back, studying Will with sharp eyes, voice lowering to be soft and concerned, "Just... don't do anything dumb."

"What?"

"You've heard the rumours... and the way he acts. That boy is crazy," Lucas warned, acting like a mother hen protecting her chick, "Just be safe and keep your distance."

Eye to eye, Will kept his gaze on Lucas who turned back to his lists. Will's mouth opened, ready to argue that Mike wasn't so bad, but just as quickly, he closed it... almost shocking himself.

Why did he feel like he needed to defend Mike?

---- ----

Awkward.

The atmosphere couldn't be more.

By Max's side, Will adjusted the straps of his backpack, eyes fixed on the ground as they walked down from their shared class, shuffling down the hallway. The sound of other students laughing, talking and slamming lockers reverberated off the walls.

Max kicked a forgotten pencil across the tiles; her hands shoved into her blazer pockets. She didn't look at him, but Will could tell she wasn't in any rush to break the silence either. They almost never walked together, usually Max was with Lucas or Dustin while Will usually floated to one side.

This felt... weird.

He needed to do this. He promised Lucas.

"So... uh." His voice cracked, internally wincing when Max glanced at him with a raised brow as if waiting for him to spit out his words. He tugged on his sleeves nervously, "I was just wondering about you and Lucas," he trailed off, face heating up, "are you guys still together?"

Max paused, eyeing him in surprise as though she could read his mind, "did Lucas send you to ask me that?"

"No...?" Will froze, not realising how transparent he was.

"Typical men!" Max groaned, dragging a hand down her face, "He can't even ask me himself!"

"It's not that-"

"You don't have to lie for him."

"I'm not lying." Will scrambled to keep himself in check, but the glare she passed could have knocked him unconscious. Eventually, he mumbled, "So what should I tell him?"

He was pathetic at this.

Max shot him a sideways look, expression sharp but not entirely unkind. "Tell him that if he wants an answer, then he should grow some balls and ask me himself."

"R-right..." Will quickly nodded, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to agree, repeating, "Got it... I'll tell him to, uh- 'grow some balls',"

She was definitely angry, but Will couldn't tell if they were still together.

The silence continued as they rounded the corner of the hall when a faint thump of music leaked from the half-open classroom door. It was the type of music he would listen too, the instrumentals drew him in, and before he knew it, he slowed his pace, peaking through the ajar door.

Inside, a girl stood on a chair, her blonde hair tied into pigtails, obviously youthful, clearly a freshman. Carefully, she pinned a large piece of construction paper onto the bulletin board to decorate it. Her phone was propped on the desk beside her, playing music just loud enough to keep herself company; it was a wonder Will was able to hear it.

Will found himself mesmerised by the board; it had posters, drawings, and even papier-mache figures, and all this for a homeroom class. The display was unlike anything he'd seen in school before, more chaotic and alive than the mundane of the other classrooms.

A quiet hum left her lips as she added yet another element to the display, a faint smile painting her expression. Her movements were confident yet unhurried, like she was completely in her own world.

Unexpectedly Will found himself watching on fondly, he'd always been drawn to creativity, to anything that even had any hint of anything mystical. The sight of the display was like a pocket of colour in this drab world.

Max paused, doubling back, noticing he was no longer by her side, she leaned beside him, peering over his shoulder, "What are you doing?" she whispered with knitted brows.

Will jumped startled, remembering he was supposed to be aloof to art to fit in with other guys, he coughed as if he'd been caught smoking, "Oh... I was just curious."

She hummed in response, passing an unimpressed expression, upper lip stiffened at the display, perhaps she just didn't see the appeal, "I guess its nice... it's just paper though".

Shaking his head, Will eyes flicked to the display once more, dismissing her words, she didn't understand art like he did. She wouldn't understand him.

No one could.

Just when he was lost in his own thoughts, sounds of sharp laughter echoed the room, and before Will or Max could even process what was happening, three girls, also freshman strut into the room like they owned the place; sights set on the girl at the bulletin board.

The first girl, tall with a spikey blonde updo, sautéed in with swinging hips, chunky jewellery clicking with every step, makeup bright and expressive, the picture of a perfect popular girl, kind, sweet, caring... but Will could tell the truth, he knew the look in those eyes, she was anything but.

She snatched the girl's phone off the table, glancing at the screen, "what song is this?" asking in a feigned innocence,

Will couldn't explain it... but he had a bad feeling about this.

---- ----

3405 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV -

"it's a... an indie song." The girl who stood on the chair stuttered, clearly used to this treatment, voice meek and quiet; the once expressive smile turned into a worried frown, "Can I have my phone back please?"

"Of course Holly." She called her name in an innocent tease, holding out he phone, deliberately letting it slip from her fingers with a little giggle, "Oops... I'm so sorry." Her pout fake.

Holly looked down at the ground, lips parted, words caught in her throat, but before she could react, a second girl stepped forward with a cruel smirk. She grabbed one edge of the display paper, yanking hard and tearing a corner, "Aww... I didn't mean to do that..."

Glitter rained from the poster like hailstorm. The bullies giggled, already plucking other papers off the wall.

"Wow, I like this one," another girl snickered, grip strong. "It's so... arts-and-crafts-y. My little brother makes stuff like this in kindergarten." She bunched it up and flicked it onto the floor.

Will felt his pulse jackhammering. He knew exactly what was happening, he'd seen it before, experienced it before. It was that cruel mask of fake kindness, the way they pretended it was harmless fun.

It was anything but, he could see it in Holly's face, the way she bit her lip hard to keep her composure, the tremor in her hands as she tried to smooth her skirt like nothing was wrong.

"Come on girl, don't just stand there," the first bully said, her voice sweetly calm as she kicked Holly's chair, making her stumble to the ground, landing on her knees.

Max cursed under her breath beside Will. "Oh fuck."

Will clenched his fists by his sides. Chest hot like a coil of anger was clawing its way out. He wanted to step in and say something, but his throat locked up. It was like being ten years old again and feeling powerless.

The atmosphere in the class felt tense, able to cut the air with a knife. The trio crouched down while Angela placed a hand on Holly's head, her touch scarily harsh.

"A little birdy told me you decided to join in the art display this Saturday... tell me I'm mistaken Holly." Her voice masking poison despite already knowing the answer,

"I don't know what you're talking about Angela..." Holly muttered, eyes averting to the ground, flicking away with the accompanied lie.

Angela tightened the grip in Holly's hair with her manicured nails, "Didn't I tell you to back off? ...but you just have to show off, don't you?"

The friends' nodded in unison, grins crooked and mean, one of them sat on the desk, arms folded like enjoying a show.

Holly spoke up, defending herself in a quiet whine, "I didn't do anything..."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," she clicked her tongue in return, tapping Holly's head, poking her with her freshly manicured nails, ensuring it hurt, "How about I spell it out to you?"

"Go tell the art teacher that you're dropping out the competition and then take yourself and go focus on your face."

Words landed like a slap, causing Holly to hide her face with her long hair, knuckles stiffened. Her mouth opened as if wanting to object but just as quickly closed it. Her cheeks flushed red, embarrassed and humiliated.

Those girls were vile.

The cruelty they threw her way wasn't hidden nor veiled anymore; it was calculated and precise, knowing exactly what words would tear her down, piece by piece, until she didn't have enough strength to even stand it.

"Be honest," Angela whispered in a mocking tone, "Nobody wants to see your face next to your little doodles. Ugly art from an ugly girl; maybe you should focus on painting your face instead. Maybe then a boy will like you..." She paused for a second before continuing, "or was it a girl you wanted?" laughing out loud like it were the funniest thing on earth.

Holly stiffened at her words. No one else caught it, but Will did.

"Aww, why the long face? I thought someone like you would be into this. Shame." Angela snickered, ripping another poster off the wall and throwing it at Holly before stepping onto the collection on the floor, turning to leave with her possee.

When they finally left the room, the steps became quieter and the room turned eerily void.

Still in shock, Will's stomach churned, their words echoing in his head, 'ugly', 'like you' that stuck with him. It clung in his mind, cruel and unrelenting, words bringing up his own painful memories. He muttered under his breath without meaning to, "Those brats! Who do they think they are?"

Max, who was usually confrontational was also frozen, more in pure shock and confusion then anything, "she didn't deserve that." She responded back as if mentally coming up with a plan to make them pay.

Will watched the small girl in the middle of the room, fists clenched at her sides, seeing the creases and shoeprints marking the posters she'd spent hours on. She exhaled shakily, hands trembling as she fixed her hair, tucking them behind her ears and dusting off the posters the best she could.

She didn't cry, no, Will noticed that. And her expression was familiar like looking into a mirror. She was staying strong, the sadness hidden deep in the crevice of her eyes.

Will couldn't move, sneakers glued to the wooden floors, heart hammering in his chest. He watched with a silent ache, knowing this feeling exactly, as if her insults where his. The humiliation and the way she forced herself to be steady despite the tears welling up.

On the last paper, her eyes flicked to the door, finally noticing the pair, mostly just Will standing there. Her eyes widened, expression shifting to shame, humiliation and maybe even a hint of despair.

Holly swallowed the lump in her throat, clutching the posters and grabbing her phone before scuttling out the room with hurried steps, knocking down a chair in the process, eyes seeing a tunnel vison to the exit.

Will's brows softened, mouth opened to say something, anything, but she was already gone.

Internally, Will's thoughts spun faster because what he'd just seen wasn't just Holly's pain. It was a reflection. And for the first time in a long while, he hated how much of himself he saw in someone else.

No one came to save Will after all.

---- Tuesday ----

"YIKES!" Will yelped as he was pulled into a quiet corridor and down the hall. He stumbled, bag bumping against his back as he entered the shadowy classroom, not catching the face of his attacker.

Ordinarily, this was a situation when one should scream, fight and try to make an escape, but in the back of his mind Will already knew who it was, and decided to go along with it.

Before he could open his mouth to question, Mike's hand was already there, using two fingers to press lightly but firmly against Will's lips,

"Shh," Mike whispered, leaning close enough for Will to catch scent of smoke clinging to his hoodie, although it was a lot less than usual. His eyes glinted in the dark room, playful but laced with a warning, "What I'm about to say you have to keep it to yourself,"

"What?" Will was intrigued, what was Mike yammering about this early in the morning?

"Not. A. Sound." He warned, voice deeper and more threatening than usual.

"Yeah, yeah whatever," Will stood up straight, swatting Mike's hand out his face like a persistent bug. Now he was curious, this was probably a task, but what kind could it be?

"I'm serious!" his tone low and sharp, "I mean it! If you talk, I'm throwing you out that window!" eyes darting around to make sure no one was near, running a hand through his hair at Will's quiet nod. His jaw clenched as though he was chewing bubble-gum that was stuck to his teeth. Finally, with a groan he threw his head back.

"I need you to go get my bag."

"Okay...?" Will tilted his head confused; that wasn't a weird request.

"From the pool."

"Ok...?"

"I screwed up yesterday," Mike admitted, a serious frown tugging his lips as though he actually thought about consequences for once, "I was smoking outside with the girl I was gonna make out with, and I threw my bag over the wall when a teacher almost caught us."

"Oh... okay, sure I'll get it." Will casually replied, not seeing what the big deal was.

"You have to be secretive... that bag has my cigarettes... and weed."

Taken aback, Will recoiled, words lumped in his throat, "Weed?!" he whisper-shouted, never knowing Mike smoked the 'Devil's Lettice', let alone carried it around with him in school.

Although Will should have seen the signs.

Mike gave him an eye roll as if daring him to judge, "Yeah. What, that shocks you?" his brow raised, "don't act like you're better than me just because you look like a choir boy."

"Now you're just projecting." Will huffed, not knowing whether that was a compliment or insult, "and besides I've smoked before,"

Mike straightened a little, brows raised, jaw hanging open at the confession, "...you?"

"Few months ago with my brother and his friend... they thought it'd help me relax or something."

"No way," that made Mike's features fall into something awestricken, "I thought you were Little Mr Perfect... who knew I was wrong."

"I said it was once," Will shot an annoyed look, "It was fine... but it made me hungry and lightheaded, so never again."

For a few seconds, he tried to imagine the small, quiet bookworm in front of him all lit up, a puff of smoke surrounding him. However, the thought made him uneasy, expression filtering to something softer and more genuine, "I guess we're closer than I thought."

"Don't insult me," Will half-joked at the mere notion, "I told you I only did it once."

"Good." Mike's expression hardened, voice dropping serious, "Don't ever do it again."

Thrown off, Will did a double take, "Wait, what?! You literally just told me to get your bag full of your shit, and now you're-"

"Yeah, me," Mike cut him off, flicking Will's head but not enough to hurt, "that's different. I know what I'm doing. You? you don't need that sort of crap screwing with you."

Will stared at him, utterly confused. "You're telling me not to smoke... while you keep doing it?"

"I'm a lost cause," Mike shrugged like it were obvious, though there was a current of something underneath as though his own health wasn't important.. His grin returned, more jocular this time, "Gotta protect my little errand boy. He needs his brain, doesn't he?"

The meaning was laid thick under his words, Will understood that beneath those joking tones, Mike was being serious, deadly serious. Sure, he was an annoying person to deal with and he was blackmailing him... but he wasn't exactly a 'lost cause'.

"You're wrong, you know." Will didn't immediately bite back at the nickname as Mike expected, "You're... actually kinda smart. You just don't give yourself credit."

Mike scoffed, clearly uncomfortable while laughing it off. "Yeah, okay."

Steady with conviction, Will pressed on, "I mean it. you're good with people, you know how to talk and how to get what you want... not to mention your weirdly persuasive entrepreneurial streak... like somehow you're always hustling and turning things into money-making opportunities. Not everyone can do that."

Mike couldn't look Will in the eyes.

He didn't know what to do with words of praise; it wasn't something he was used to... praise never went deeper than his looks. For once, he didn't have a comeback and his face was red.

No one's ever seen his personality as a talent. They saw it how it was, a nuisance. He didn't believe it, he was the spare child, the mistake and the screw-up.

But the way Will was looking at him, soft and sensitive, made him want to believe his words,

He cleared his throat, cutting the moment sure just like he remembered who he was; cocky, untouchable, nonchalant, not someone who let simple words affect him like this. Mike shifted his weight, crossing his arms to reset the mood.

"Anyways," He perforated the bubble with a stern determination, going back to the task at hand; he couldn't afford to let his feelings show, "I tried to get the bag back myself, but the pool doors were locked. Apparently, you need a card to get in or some shit." He grumbled, passing a pointed look, "That's where you come in genius. Figure it out for me."

Was that a compliment, or a thinly veiled threat? There was no time to dwell. Mike was right; the pool was off-limits. It used to be open until some kids decided to go skinny-dipping and one broke his leg on the way in.

The entire building was closed except during practice or with staff. How could he even get inside? The janitor had keys, if one could be stolen and returned without noticing, then would there be any harm caused?

No, it sadly wasn't ethical.

Besides, the Janitors at this school weren't like his middle-school custodians; they were vigilant, like cameras with extendable legs, ready to strike at a moment's notice, no stone was left unturned... or uncleaned.

Teachers wouldn't just hand out access passes either, especially not to either Will or Mike. The poor kid or the school's new transfer with a shady record weren't exactly the type to be trusted with something so 'valuable'...

No matter what he thought, there was always something countering his ideas; It could never work.

Then, a face popped into his mind. A familiar tall figure with sharp eyes that always seemed to be acutely aware of everything around him.

Of course!

That could work. He was on the swim team and would probably be handed an access pass, he probably already had a key card. It made perfect sense, except for the fact Will wasn't even sure how he could ask him without it being... weird.

And their last study session was... something unique.

Will's silence must have stretched too long because Mike tilted his head. "What's with that look? Did you just short-circuit or something?"

Will rolled his eyes. He didn't exactly know how to ask for help, but out of all the possible scenarios, this was the most likely to work.

With a little sigh, Will spoke despite the bubbling in his chest, "I might know someone who can get me in."

"Who?" Mike's ears perked, leaning closer, interest peaked.

Will hesitated; whether he wanted to or not, he was required to carry out any task Mike gave him despite how ludicrous it seemed. With a deep breath, he gave his answer.

"it's..."

---- ----

"Miles?"

Will musted the brightest smile he could, the most innocent face he could manage; like the face a child would give when begging for a new toy. Except Will wasn't here for a toy, he was here for a backpack with weed inside.

Miles looked up at him from his usual desk, not bothering to hang with friends despite the freedom of homeroom. He unplugged an earplug, watching Will with his dark eyes, curly hair shadowing him from view despite the broad daylight.

"Yeah?" Miles calmly replied... at least he was friendlier than he was to others. When others spoke, he merely grunted in their direction or spoke in gestures.

In Will's hands was a sugary drink from the vending machine, one with a bright blue ocean and little cartoon fish on the label. He held it up with a little nervous chuckle,

"For you," Will sung, sliding the can over like offering a prize to a grumpy cat; hopefully this feline doesn't scratch. Will's voice was higher than usual, "it's got little fishes on it. I thought you'd like it," pointing at the label to drive in his point.

Caught off-guard, Miles looked between Will's face and the can, lips twitching in amusement but hidden behind his unreadable expression; he could tell something was up, just not what, "it's cute?" He murmured confused, but it wasn't mocking nor unkind,

"I saw it and thought you'd appreciate it because your on the swim team." Will rambled, "and um- you know, you studied hard last week, and refreshments and fuels and something." His voice high as he trailed off.

"You're acting weird."

"I am not!" Will crossed his arms, "I was just thinking about you and swimming, well not you swimming, cause that would mean thinking of you shirtless. But that's not my... not my point. What I mean is-" He cut himself off, voice turning shaky; he needed a script, he wasn't prepared. He took a breath, "I was thinking that you're on the swim team, so you probably have an all-access pass for the pool, right?"

"Yeah, I guess..." he hummed, "what about it?"

At those eyes piercing into his soul, Will couldn't lie, it was like his darkened irises were a mirror of truth; it was hard to even make eye contact. Will sighed, this wasn't working and it was clear Miles wouldn't respond well to this 'cutesy' persona.

Straight-up, Will blurted, "I need your help with something,"

"Go on." Miles's interest piqued, pulling out his other earbud,

Will pulled out a chair from an adjacent desk, sitting down and leaning in conceptionally so no one could overhear, "I lost a bag in the pool area,"

"How?" Miles raised a brow suspicious, "It's closed off."

Stupid Mike, how does he even get something like that locked in a place closed off? "I don't know, I must be dumb enough to manage that," he growled under his breath,

With a hidden smile, Miles leaned closer, almost teasingly while studying him, "so you came to me?"

Like a puppy, Will nodded with a little pout, brows painted downwards, "You're on the team. You have a keycard, right?"

Miles didn't answer, merly standing tall from his desk, "fine, let's go."

Eyes widened, Will didn't expect an answer so quickly, he thought he'd need to beg, plead, or maybe even need to do errands for him too, but Miles just passed a look like he'd expected something like this all along.

Will raised, following quickly down the hallways, the echoes of footsteps bouncing against the empty walls. The place was strangely quiet, most students were in homeroom, nowhere near the pool,

Miles swiped them in with his key card, a little green light blinking before the heavy door motioned forward, the faint smell of chlorine hitting them.

"Here we go... and there's no one here," he motioned with an outstretched hand,

Will's shoulders eased a little, though he was still consumed by the thought of the bag filled of weed. He slipped inside after Miles, feeling the air turn heavy, humid warmth hitting him. The tiled floors gleamed, squeaking under their shoes.

They walked through the locker room and reached the inner door to the actual pool area, but just as Will went to push it open, Miles's hand shot out, stopping him with a firm press to his chest.

"Eeek?" Will stared up at him startled.

Miles tilted his chin toward a laminated sign taped beside the door. Big block letters warned:

NO SOCKS, SHOES, BAGS, OR ELECTRONICS BEYOND THIS POINT.

"You're not supposed to bring things in," Miles simply explained,

"Oh come on," Will giggled, "it's not like I'm gonna fall in."

No answer was even given to his joke, not even a pitiful laugh. Instead, Miles's gaze lingered on him before finally stepping back and motioned to the bench along the wall. "Shoes off. Bag here."

Will frowned but eventually relented at Miles's sharp stare that left no room for argument, sitting on a nearby bench. Slowly, he slipped off his dress-shoes and socks before setting the bag down beside him, tucking his phone, his only electronic, inside.

"Happy?" Will jumped up with a bright slightly sarcastic smile despite the uncomfortable feeling without shoes.

Miles folded his arms casually leaning against the wall, continuing to watch as he gestured, "Go in," he said, voice low, "I'll make sure no one intercepts."

Will nodded and pushed through the door, the humid chlorine filling his every pore, hitting him like a freight train. The door behind him lay ajar. Will glanced back to see Miles watching him with the same unsettling intensity.

Although Will could've sworn he'd seen a smile... or maybe that was just a figment of his imagination.

It wasn't long till he spotted the bag dangling off a beam by the poolside like a forgotten prize. It was just out of reach, the strap hooked awkwardly around a pole of metal. Even if he jumped, he'd never be able to reach.

His eyes narrowed, scanning the room quickly, cogs turning in his mind, and then his eyes landed on the long pool net propped against the wall; the type used to fish items out the water. Perfet! He grabbed it, balance offset by the massive pole in his hands, awkwardly waving it around.

It was heavier than it looked; that threw him off.

Slowly, he carefully extended the pole with determined exhales, nudging the strap inch by inch closer. The bag swayed unsteady and Will bit his tongue, poking it out in concentration.

"Come on... just a little bit more."

With a final tug, the bag slipped free, dropping to the floor with a quiet thud. He let out a little cheer, proud of himself for the way he was so easily able to get it down, but then a problem arouse... the pole was now stuck.

One pull, then another; it was too heavy and refused to budge.

The slick floor betrayed him, his shoe-less feet skidding against the wet tile. His arms flailed, losing hold of the pole, grip throwing him off more, and before he could catch himself, he slipped with a sharp gasp and tumble backwards...

Straight into the pool.

SPLASH!

His body slammed against the chlorine infested water like a dropped weight. His gasps were sharp, flailing his arms around to reach the surface in shock.

"Will!"

The heavy slams of the inner door made him realise Miles had rushed in. By the time Will surfaced, spitting up and shoving the wet hair out his eyes, Miles was at the pools edge with panicked eyes, ripping off his blazer and preparing to dive in fully clothed.

Will raised a dripping hand, sputtering but passing a nervous smile, cheeks pink with embarrassment, "I'm fine! Don't jump in." his voice cracked a little as he stood, water dragging his clothes down in heavy drapes. The pool wasn't deep, it only went up till his chest.

In return, Miles exhaled sharp, eyes closed as though he was annoyed, although, his eyes scanned Will like he was checking for cuts, bruises or any sign of pain. His fists clenched tight at his side, nails biting into skin at the thought of not being able to prevent Will from falling in.

"How stupid." Miles muttered, voice low but unclear from anger or worry,

Awkwardly, Will giggled, throwing his head back to whip the hair out his face; too busy on getting out the pool to respond. He dragged himself through the thick water waves till the ladder, hoisting himself upon each rung.

Out the pool, water steamed from his uniform, squelching with every step. His soaked shirt clung to him like a second skin, while his vest became virtually transparent. Hair stuck to his scalp while he chuckled, high-pitched from awkwardness.

"Guess that went... well?" he muttered, removing his blazer and bunching it tight, squeezing to remove the water, but it was no use.

Miles just stood there motionless, his usual unreadable expression faltering. His eyes, though still dark and mysterious, kept flicking between Will and then away, as if acutely aware of how long he was looking.

It was as though he didn't mean to look. His jaw fell like he was swallowing words he couldn't say. He crossed his arms, turning his head away.

Then, without warning, Miles grabbed Will lightly, hand warm against Will's damp skin and pushed him toward the locker room doors.

"Dry off," He commanded, voice low but tight. "Towels are over there. Use as many as you want. I'll be back." He gestured to the rack on the side before shutting the door behind him, not even allowing Will to protest.

Inside, the locker room filled with the faint buzz of the fluorescent lights above him, mixing with the soft taps of his rain. He sighed, peeling off his soaking shirt and vest, laying them on a stall door.

Shirtless, he found the towels where Miles said they'd be, thin but clean, and started drying himself off, arms, chest, hair, shaking like a wet dog. It helped, but not by much; his lower half was still drenched and his pants stubbornly clung to his thighs,

What to do?

Lost in thought, Will paced, the smell of chlorine lingered to his skin. His mind raced; what was he supposed to do now? He was soaked, every layer plastered to his skin, and the air from the vents made him shiver violently.

Throwing himself on the bench, he looked down at his backpack and sighed, remembering something important. He unzipped the front pocket, rifling through until his fingers brushed the fabric.

Clean underwear.

Right... he'd packed them yesterday.

Yesterday, when he was unsure of the outcome of his secrets. He was riddled with paranoia after not seeing Mike for multiple days. He was convinced Mike was furious at him, that he'd be outed and humiliated.

So he packed an extra underwear just to be prepared, but now, as he sat there, dripping a puddle beneath him, the irony wasn't lost on him...

He held them up with two fingers, staring at them for a long moment. What was this singular underwear going to do for him?

Even if he changed, what could he do, walk out there in nothing but underwear, socks and dress-shoes? No way. the mere notion of that scenario sent him into a spiral. Besides, it wasn't like he could call anyone to deliver clothes for him.

Now Will had two options, walk around half naked, or re-wear the wet clothes.

Wow, what interesting and diverse options?

Honestly, he'd take his chances with option two,

Will wrung out the shirt as best he could, watching little drops of water truckle down the drain. Maybe if he pressed it under the hand dryer long enough, it'd return to a wearable state; it wasn't the best plan, but it was something.

The noise was loud enough to drown his thoughts out, the shirt blasted with a sharp heat, arms shaking as the cloth vibrated frantically.

When the dryer clicked off, it was still damp; the heat did nothing, the cloth was too far gone. Will sighed, throwing the towel down on the bench, head hung low. He covered his torso with the towel, wrapping himself tight... now what to do?

The sound of the creaking door caught his attention, causing Will to spin to the noise. Miles leaned halfway in, tall frame blocking the door, expression neutral but his posture conveyed something slightly awkward, like he wasn't sure he was allowed in.

Without a word, Miles held out a dark blue gym bag, "here."

"hmm?" Will clutched the towel tighter.

"Clothes," Miles responded like it were the most obvious thing in the world, continuing, "they're mine. Just... put them on before you get hypothermia."

"I can't wear your clothes," Will hesitated, the smell of chlorine mixing with whatever cologne was left on him, "I'll get them wet... besides, this isn't your problem-"

"Will." Miles cut in firm, voice commanding but soft just like last time, "Just wear them."

"Okay..." Will squeaked, sighing in surrender with a tiny smile, unsure how to show his gratitude. He clasped the towel tight as he reached over, tips of their fingers brushing for a moment, it was short, but the spark lingered even after pulling away, sheepishly smiling, "Thanks Miles,"

"Don't mention it." Miles recoiled at the spark between them, running a hand through his head, scratching his arm under his jumper. He muttered before leaving, "and don't take too long, the first lesson is almost starting."

At the sound of the closing door, Will unsheathed the gym uniform; it was clean and neatly folded.

"Hmm..." he mumbled while analysing the kit, "I guess he's not too scary,"

---- ----

4662 Words

You know this chapter is the entire reason Miles is in the swim team. I've literally had this idea since like chapter five.

I'm sorry if this chapter reads disjointed, I think I'm delerious right now.

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

MILES POV -

The doors of the locker room creaked opened, the sound of footsteps and a quiet exhale emitted from Will's lips. There emerged Will, hair now damp and pushed back messily, the last remaining remanent of his fall, "I'm dressed," he smiled.

Miles was leaning across the hall just outside the door, pretending to scroll through his phone, though his eyes flickered up the moment Will appeared.

The sight hit him harder than expected. Miles expected Will to look awkward, that was a given. The t-shirt was oversized for Miles, so on Will, it practically swallowed him whole, hanging like a blanket. The bottom hem tucked into the shorts, the drawstring tied tight around his waist to keep it from slipping.

Will looked soft... endearing.

Quickly forcing his eyes back to his phone, he pretended to look unbothered, "those really don't fit," he said flat, voice betraying his real thoughts.

"Yeah..." Will huffed, tugging on the sleeves, "But it's better than me walking around shivering and dripping wet... come on let's go." Already making his way out the building.

Miles followed, few steps behind as he watched Will reach down to grab his things, tone light but cheeks still faintly red. His backpack was in one hand, a second on his back, and Miles's gym bag swung diagonally across his chest.

"Give me one of those," Miles attempted to snatch a bag automatically.

Will ducked out the way with a shaking head, "No way! you already lent me your clothes. I'm not making you carry my stuff."

"You can barely walk Will."

"I can handle it," Will admitted stubbornly, and instead of slowing down, he sped up, steps faster and more determined than ever.

Exhaling sharply between frustration and amusement, he ran a hand over his face; why was Will making him feel this way? it didn't make sense, "You're so-" he stopped himself, jaw tightening, "Fine, whatever, don't trip."

At that, Will grinned, pleased with himself, "I'm much stronger than you think I am,"

Miles turned away quietly before Will could see the way his ears flushed pink; he was losing composure. Will led the route, juggling all three bags and occasionally tugging at the backpack that hit his side.

Miles was going crazy, but no one could even tell.

WILL POV -

---- ----

"Here." Will threw the backpack onto Mike's desk with a little thud, arms aching. He already placed his neatly by his own desk, ignoring the stares as he went to Mike... he was glad Miles needed to go to the bathroom so he didn't see this.

Miles would obviously find him crazy if he knew that Will fell in a pool to get a bag that wasn't even his.

Mike who had been lazily lounging in his chair sat up instantly when he grabbed the bag, pulling it toward him and unzipping it just enough to peek, and when he spot the familiar stash buried deep within, his grin widened.

"Oh, thank fuck!" He muttered, genuine relief flooding his voice. Then without a moment's hesitation, he reached forward and pulled Will into a sudden fierce hug.

Will let out a startled yelp, voice piercing the air, but thankfully no one really cared, "Mike what the hell are you doing?" hand shooting downward instinctively to push him off.

Mike shook his head, the movement prominent as his face pressed against Will's stomach, "You don't understand how happy I am," his voice muffled by fabric.

"Yeah, yeah. Get off." Will hissed in an attempt to squirm free, hands frantically clawing at Mike's hair. His cheeks flushed deep pink partly from embarrassment, but mostly from the fact Mike was clining on like an overgrown koala.

"I'm not joking, seriously let go!" Will struggled hard, but Mike only tightened his hold for a second, laughing under his breath before finally letting go,

He leaned back in his chair utterly unbothered as though it was something he normally did, "Relax. It was a 'thank you' hug. You did good, errand boy."

Will glared, brushing down his borrowed t-shirt like it'd been contaminated, now creased, "Don't ever hug me again."

"Why? Does it excite you?"

"How about I punch you in the face?"

Mike stick out his tongue, words not affecting him. He leaned on the edge of the table, tucking his bag beneath his chair. Only now did he notice Will's outfit, the oversized t-shirt swallowing his frame tucked into a pair of gym shorts that brushed just above his knees.

"What..." Mike paused in a loud chuckle at the ridiculous slight, "Whose clothes did you steal?"

"What." That wasn't a question, it was a challenge.

With a lazy gesture, Mike pointed to his outfit. It was literally the school's gym uniform, but Mike knew it wasn't Will's, no, far too big for Will. And the fact he was wearing this outside of gym was a strange sight, Will upheld the sanctity of the school uniform, scolding Mike on multiple occasions just for an untucked shirt, "I'm just saying... its pretty big for you, don't ya think?"

"Don't be dumb," Will scowled, "it's not mine."

"I can tell."

"It's Miles's."

That made Mike stop, and for a split second the grin slipped from his face, "Miles?" he repeated, tone just a little too sharp,

Swallowing his pride, Will explained the situation, "Yeah, I fell in the pool and he lent me his clothes."

"You fell in the pool?"

Will expected sarcasm but Mike's voice was rather confused; was he savouring the moment or something? This was beyond humiliating, "Yes Mike. I fell into the pool trying to get your bag."

Nothing was said straight way and neither did his face give much away, but something flickered deep within, irritation? Concern? Jealousy? It was hard to tell even for Mike himself. He merely leaned back in his seat to maintain composure, "so that's who you asked for help... figured why you were so secretive."

"I wasn't secretive."

"Yeah, you were. You pranced off saying you knew who would help but wouldn't say who... I should've guess it'd be him," Mike smirked, dragging the accusation out, "Kinda funny, don't ya think?"

"What are you talking about? He's the only one I know with a keycard."

"And I bet that's a lucky coincidence for you." Mike's smirk widened, "and I'm guessing your whole 'falling in the pool' thing was your way to get his attention, right?"

Will's eyes widened, "What? No!"

"don't be embarrassed now, trust me, the things girls have done to get my attention, eerily similar..." he paused, barking into a laugh, "no girl's ever fallen into a pool for me though, but I guess you have to work harder than them."

Keeping his anger from flaring, Will pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm not some sort of degenerate like you."

"Relax man, I'm kidding... mostly."

"You. Are. Insufferable."

"Hey, I'm just saying," his voice dropped to a whispering tease, "maybe you've got a little crush on him."

"don't even joke." Will crossed his arms, heart skipping a beat; not because it was true, rather the person who said it.

"You're blushing."

"I'm not!"

"You are."

"Do you ever stop talking?!"

"Alright, alright, don't worry, I'm an ally or whatever," Mike teased with a supportive fist in the air before shifting to a mocking-serious look, "But just remember one thing,"

"What now?" Will dreaded what may come next.

The cocky smirk was unyielding, the kind that came from too much confidence, "Even if you do get a boyfriend someday, I still come first."

"Huh?" Will recoiled; what was Mike saying now?

"Hey, facts are facts," his tone returned to a normal volume as he shrugged smugly, "I've got leverage, so you can't ditch your favourite man."

"You're an ass." Will spat, cheeks burning.

"A charming ass," Mike smirked, complimenting his own features,

"Whatever," Will muttered, shaking his head, waving off. "Enjoy your power trip, Ass Charming."

Mike watched him walk off, grin falling to a serious gaze as Will sat at his desk. He exhaled through his nose, a hand through his hair before muttering something, too inaudible under his breath,

"...Didn't mean it like that."

Then with a soft scoff at himself he leaned back in his chair again, eyes drifting to the clothes on Will's back; they needed to be changed.

---- ----

"Uniform violation?"

"Uniform violation." The teacher repeated, tearing off a pink slip to hand him, not a semblance of compassion behind his glasses, "You're expected in the detention hall after school. Do not be late."

The warning was sharp, authoritative and to the point; it almost made Will shiver, but nonetheless, he agreed, accepting the slip with a polite nod, soft-spoken as always... at least he wasn't sent home, "Yes sir... thank you."

Will passed a little sullen smile as he returned to his friends, being pulled away from his group was more embarrassing than just been given the slip outright. El and Dustin watched in matching shocked expressions; never once had Will been in trouble. Lucas however, quietly sat on the side, head buried in his phone.

"Wait, you got detention?" Dustin waited for a punchline that never came, "Since when do you break rules?"

"Don't cream your pants, it's just non-school-uniform,"

"Yes, we heard!" El excitedly smiled, completely oblivious as Dustin swatted her shoulder with the back of his hand,

"El, that was a secret," he whispered a little too loud at the fact they were snooping,

"Oh yes..." she whispered before turning back to Will, correcting herself with a lie, "We did not hear."

Will shook his head in slight amusement, "it's not even that deep, apparently wearing the gym-outfit is grounds for detention or something."

Dustin's brows furrowed, jumping in his seat to ask a question, "yeah, why are you wearing that?" he gestured,

He hesitated to give a true answer before deciding to just explain it, "...I fell in the pool,"

There was a moment of silence, then Dustin erupted into a roar of laughter, unable to contain himself, "No you did not!" he almost refused to believe it,

El showed compassion despite her hidden giggles, "Oh no, did you trip? Or were you pushed? Is there footage so we can get the culprit?"

"PLEASE SAY THERE'S FOOTAGE!" Dustin wheezed, attracting attention.

"You are a fake friend," Will joked dramatically, "At least El is concerned,"

"I'm a real friend, I just need proof!"

"Boy I am in gym clothes and my wet clothes are in my gym bag," he paused to correct himself, "Well technically, it's not my gym bag,"

"Huh?" the two exclaimed in unison as though that was the most shocking part of this ordeal. Dustin was the first to speak, "did you steal it?"

"Why do you keep thinking I stole these clothes?"

"Look at it man!" He threw his hands up,

"But did you?" El whispered, a tad more serious,

Eyerolling, Will shook his head, answering flat, "No I did not."

He needed to switch the conversation.

Finally, he noticed that Lucas wasn't engaging with them. While Dustin cackled at the pool incident and El showed compassion between laughter, Lucas was staring at his phone screen, barely eating.

He furiously scrolled, read, and then typed.

The cycle continued.

"What's up with him?" Will gestured, whispering to El and Dustin.

Dustin leaned in to whisper back but his volume was too loud, no attempt to hide their conversation, "He's been like that all day man. Hasn't paid attention to anything I say, which is a tragedy."

El sneaked a peak, "He is typing something." Smiling at her discovery,

Her smile was infectious even if that was knowledge he already knew. "Should we take his phone away?" Will suggested,

"Naa! What if he's scrolling through some unmentionable sites? I'm not having 'the talk' with him!"

"Dustin he's a growing teenager! I'm sure he's had 'the talk'."

"How do you know that, Will? Were you there?"

"I can't believe you're asking me this." Will sighed, the conversation becoming derailed as it usually did.

Then, before they could get even more off-topic, Lucas's voice cut through the air without even looking up from his phone,

"You dickheads can't even focus on me for longer than five minutes."

Dustin grinned caught in the act, not even bothering to hide it anymore, deciding to go directly to the source, "Okay then. Explain yourself."

"It's about Max, I don't know if we're still together."

"You still don't know?" Will's eyes widened, "I can try asking her again, but she'll just give me the same answer-"

"it's fine dude." he reassured despite frustration, "I've found something else to help."

"Which is?" Will's brows furrowed, hearing Dustin explain who Max was to El, and a brief history on their 'relationship lore'.

Clearly too tired to argue, Lucas sighed, "I made a post last night asking for advice about... my situation with Max."

"Where?" Will asked, dreading an answer.

"A chat forum." Lucas admitted like a crime was committed; in the past he'd called those chat forums 'lies' and 'attention-seeking', and now here he was, explaining his relationship to potentially thousands to see.

"of course you did."

Groaning, Lucas explained further, "I told them things have been different, and I don't know if I should give her space or try fix things."

Dustin finished explaining the lore as he leaned forward grinning ear to ear, "read us the comments!"

"No," Lucas said flat.

"c'mon man, don't be a spoilsport," Dustin whined, "we deserve this."

Faintly smiling, El rested her chin on her hand, "I think it is sweet he is trying to understand her."

"At least someone gets it!" Lucas perked at the validation, "no one listens, they are just infighting."

"It can't be that bad," Will stiffened as Lucas slipped the phone in his face, making Will read the comments; at that, Dustin's face dramatically jaw-dropped, throwing his hands up, "Why are you letting him see, and not me?"

"Cause you're a degenerate." Lucas mused.

"Watch outside yeah," Dustin dramatically threatened.

Sounds of Dustin's empty threats were drowned out by the words on screen, comments, pictures and advice. Some said he should give her space, mirror her energy, while others told him to 'be a man' and take the lead.

Essentially contradictory nonsense.

"Dustin, stop complaining. The comments are so dry," Will half-lied, turning back to Lucas with a softening expression, "honestly, knowing Max... I'd say just be persistent,"

"I just don't wanna screw it up again,"

"You'll figure it out man," he said soft, "you really do care about her, and that part is clear. Just don't over think it... okay?"

Slumping in his chair, Lucas huffed, "What if giving her space pushes her away?"

Before words could leave his tongue, Dustin suddenly sat upright, goofy grin fading into something more serious; a truly rare sight. He spoke as if he were a pro on the subject despite not even having his first anniversary with Suzie yet, "Just breathe dude, and whatever your missing will come to you naturally."

"I know that. I know that I should calm down because we've broken up so many times before," Lucas sighed, "but this time it's so confusing,"

Being a newcomer to the group, El quietly watched the scenario befall them, looking up thoughtfully, "When I'm upset," she began, "I don't want someone to talk to me, I just want them to sit with me."

Lucas's expression softened, "yeah... maybe,"

Will smiled faintly at how seriously they were all taking it. He was just about to add something comforting when he felt his phone buzz against his leg.

Of course, right now.

Sneakily, he slid his hand under the table, glancing to see the familiar name on screen, eyes squinting to read the message,

[MIKE]: 'Wait for me aftr skl'

[MIKE]: 'were going shopping.'

[MIKE]: 'ur carryin my bags.'

Will rolled his eyes, exhaling a quiet sigh through his nose. Of course, typical Mike: no greeting, no please, just an order like Will was his personal assistant.

Quietly, he glanced around and unlocked his phone, typing a response, furiously thumbing the screen,

[WILL]: 'I cant.'

[WILL]: 'I've got detentionm. :0'

A few seconds passed and yet nothing. Will waited for the familiar 'typing...' bubble to appear, but it never came. Then the blue ticks popped up.

Read.

No reply? That was it? Will didn't know how to interpret this; was Mike telling him to ignore detention, or rather go to detention and not to worry with the shopping. He didn't have time to think, no, he had better things to deal with, Lucas and Max.

He pocketed his phone and looked back up his friends.

---- ----

Will debated leaving.

The teacher still wasn't here. Some others waited till the clock past fifteen before leaving, able to claim that the teacher forgot. The hallway hummed with shuffles and chatters as Will waited outside the small theatre that doubled as the detention hall.

He exhaled, scrolling on his phone with the uniform slip folded under his fingers. His homeroom teacher said he'd overlook the infraction if Will explained why he was wearing the gym uniform. However, explaining that he fell in the pool would only open a pandora's box of questions he couldn't answer without getting both Miles and Mike in trouble.

And Will didn't want to deal with it.

Mindlessly scrolling his phone, he almost zoned out completely when a sudden shove hit his shoulder hard enough to drop the phone and stumble a step,

The hand caught his phone, "Here," the voice oddly familiar.

"I'm sorry!" Will accepted the it, finally looking up to see the assailant's face, meeting the unreadable stare of Miles, "Huh?"

The taller boy straighten, swaying the hair out his eyes as if he hadn't rammed into someone, "You hurt?" he said flat, tone low and calm but oddly soft.

"It's... fine." Will's heart burst in surprise; he didn't know how to act around Miles, he wasn't prepared to meet him again. This was all Mike's fault, injecting his ideas of Will having a crush; he didn't, but was that how it was perceived?

The seconds ticked on, Will's polite smile now straining; why wasn't he leaving? Did he want his clothes back? Instead, Will asked upon realising Miles wasn't leaving any time soon, "Did you need something?"

Miles didn't answer, merely gesturing to the detention hall with his head,

"You have detention too?"

"Guess so," Miles pulled his own slip out his blazer pocket.

Letting out a small agreement that's sounded more nervous than he thought, Will nodded, "I didn't think you were the detention type."

"And I didn't think you were either." Miles eyed him almost teasingly with faint curved lips, hidden behind his expressionless face.

"I fell in a pool today, give me some leeway."

Miles hid a laugh as his gaze lingered, masking it by gently snatching the pink slip from Will's hands, reading the note to himself, "Uniform violation..." he paused, scanning Will wearing his oversized clothes. The faintest hint of something warming his chest; he couldn't name it. "Makes sense."

In return, Will snatched Miles's pink slip, dramatically huffing, "And what are you here for?" scanning the note, words faster than his eyes. Then, when he read the reason, his face fell, "No gym uniform...?"

"Yeah. It's whatever."

Processing the information, Will blinked and finally looked up, "Wait, your gym uniform? This one?!"

Miles nodded once, not even looking bothered.

Will's stomach dropped at the realisation, glancing down at the clothes decorating his body, the same ones Miles lent him after the pool incident. It didn't take a genius to connect the dots.

"You got detention cause of me?" Will's guilt filled his core.

"Didn't say that." Miles furrowed his brows.

"But you lent me your gym clothes, and that's why you didn't have it," he motioned to his body,

"Does it matter?" Miles shrugged, looking down the hall,

"It does matter!" Will's voice became higher, a little more flustered, "You shouldn't do something so dumb just because you felt bad for me."

Miles half-rolled his eyes, ghosting a smile, "It wasn't dumb, I don't like gym anyways; if anything, you did me a favour,"

Furrowing his brows determined, Will bit the inside of his cheeks, looking up at Miles with a gaze that spoke volumes. He couldn't tell if Miles was being serious or just brushing it off to save Will's feelings. The guilt pressed further.

"I'll tell the teacher it was my fault," Will suddenly announced, "So you don't get in trouble for-"

"Don't" Miles cut in, firm but not unkind, "It's done now." Finally looking back at Will with quiet warmth behind his dark, tired eyes, "Just wear the clothes, yeah?"

Under the gaze, Will froze, seeing no judgment or frustration. Quietly he nodded, voice softer, "...Okay."

Then, just as determined turned towards Miles, voice quiet but more stubborn and authoritative than ever, "but never do that again, got it?"

"Yeah, sure," Miles dismissively agreed.

"I mean it," Will reprimanded, hearing the quiet shrug behind the sentences, as if not heeding his words dripping from his lips; he knew he needed the words to be heard. Instinctively, he stepped closer,

"I told you I won't. It's just that you looked like you needed it," Miles shrugged, finding the situation inwardly amusing, it wasn't every day he found someone as determined and entertaining as Will; honestly, if it were someone else, he probably would have let them stew in the locker room with wet clothes... so what made Will so different?

"that's not my point," Will explained, pressing further until he was mere inches away from Miles, he didn't even realise he was so close; that thought didn't compute in his brain, way too focused on his points.

Only now did Miles become aware of how little space remained between them; the faintness of Will's breath, the way his voice dipped and rose with each syllable. Miles' heartbeat spiked, quick and heavy in his chest, but outwardly he wore a poker-face, remaining still, the only loss of composure was the slightly crumpled pink slip.

At this point, Miles couldn't even hear what Will was saying, something about thinking about himself. He was used to people keeping their distance from him, calling him a freak or passing polite smiles in fear, not this kind of...closeness. Will didn't treat him different than anyone else, and why was that?

Finally, Will finished speaking as if waiting for an answer. Miles looked down at him, swallowing hard and nodding like an obedient puppy; his mouth drier than the Sahara.

Will studied his features for a moment longer as if searching for deception, and when he found none, he stepped back to where he was standing to give Miles space, "Good,"

Exhaling, Miles felt the tension in his shoulders ease, relaxing even if his pulse was still jackhammering; something like this had never happened to him before; what was going on with him? was he sick?

Miles just nodded again, trying to get his pulse to match his expression, but the lingering echo of Will's voice and the proximity they once held creeped deep within.

The murmurs of students quietened the halls; the teacher still had not arrived, and students at the front of the line became more-and-more excited, waiting for the fifteenth minute to pass. Will looked down at his pink slip, only now noticing how he had Miles's.

"Can I have my slip back, in case they ask for it or something?"

Miles blinked, brought out his own thoughts; he straightened up, glancing at the paper in his hands, folded and creased between his fingers, edges bent. He didn't realise he'd been holding on so tightly.

How stupid.

First, he smoothed it out against his pants, trying to iron out the wrinkles, the paper stubborn to his attempts, "here you go," Miles muttered, holding it out,

"Thank you..." Will quietly sung, retrieving it with a small smile, doing the same as if carefully mimicking him, "And here's yours."

Miles's paper was crease-free, pristine and calm as if treated with compassion. Miles didn't care. Nope. Not at all. Yet his heat-flushed ears betrayed him; he was thankful his hair covered them; he was really losing it. His expression softened with a familiar warmth, "fair trade," he joked, tone quieter, harder to tell if he was being blunt or kind.

Why was he going along with this? And since when did he make jokes?

He looked back at the slip, exhaling through his nose, the closest thing to a smile that Will's ever gotten from him, "You talk a lot," he randomly admitted,

"Is that a good thing?" Will suddenly became aware of his every action,

"I mean, it's nice or whatever." Miles mumbled only quiet enough for him to hear, not seeing the tiny smile covering Will's face.

"well, you don't talk enough," Will bit back teasingly,

The moment lingered in the air comfortably when sudden heavy steps and shuffling fabrics filled the corridor. But before Will could react, a bundle of colour hit him and something was thrown into his arms.

A stack of shopping bags, heavy and overfilled made him stumble, knocking him against the wall mercilessly. "What the Hell?" Will gasped, fumbling to keep himself from falling. The force was unparalleled, but before he could topple, a hand caught his arms.

Reflexes faster than his mind, Miles wore a stern grimace despite his cold expression. His fingers wrapped around Will's arms; the contact brief but causing a lasting feeling. He wasn't used to touching people, didn't like it, but Will's skin was warm, and it heated him to his core.

Startled, Will finally raised his head, connecting eyes with Miles before looking past him to see the perpetrator.

With that, his face fell, "Oh no... not you again." 

---- ----

4230 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV –

Mike's posture was infuriatingly lazy but his grin was filled with sharp amusement, "You don't seem as happy to see me as I would prefer ."

Eyes narrowing, Will furrowed his brows in annoyance, turning to anger. He pulled himself up, fixing his clothes with a little sigh, "What the fuck are you doing?" not noticing the way Miles recoiled at the profanity; he didn't know Will swore.

Unbothered, Mike shrugged, "Relax man. You said you couldn't go shopping with me, so I brought the shopping to you." He gestured toward the bags as if this was a reasonable response. "You're welcome."

"You're so-ugh!" Will let out a growl, unable to even finish his sentence, "Why are you even here? Go home."

Miles still hadn't moved his hand till that point, feeling the lingering warmth emitting from his cold fingers. His chest tightened and he quickly removed his hands, rubbing the nervous sweat on the thick of his jumper.

"I'm supposed to be here actually," Mike held out his own pink slip between his two fingers, waving it around like a trophy.

"Huh?!" Will snatched the slip, "of course you got detention," he huffed in disbelief.

"I earned it fair and square,"

Rolling his eyes, Will scanned the pink note quickly, seeing the reason scrawlled in red ink, 'Unauthorised entry and exit from school grounds during school hours'

He looked up unimpressed, "You got in trouble for sneaking 'into' school?"

Mike nodded like a puppy proud of scratching the couch, smile gleaming. Will didn't know how to react to this, staring for a few seconds as if wondering if Mike was serious, "You are an actual idiot."

"Hey!" Mike laughed, but Will didn't even look amused.

"You could've gotten away with it," Will explained in frustrated disbelief at the cockiness. "If you'd just stayed out after skipping, no one would've known. But no, you just had to come back to school."

Mike leaned forwards, "I got bored."

"I don't know how you haven't gotten suspended yet,"

"You worry about me too much. It's kinda cute." Mike whispered with a widening smile, entertainment turning to something akin to endearment...

He'd never admit it, but the thought of Will caring made him somewhat happy.

From the side, Miles was silent, watching the exchange without an expression, though his eyes darkened just slightly when he saw Mike's grin linger a bit too long on Will's face, unable to fathom the relationship between them.... he couldn't explain it, but he didn't like Mike.

"I couldn't care less." Will's face scrunched, though unfortunately, it was in his nature to care about others regardless of how evil they are; he got that trait from his mother.

And that's how she ended up with his father.

After what felt like an eternity, an overworked teacher bumbled onto scene with jingling keys, fumbling to open the doors. He eyed the group waiting along the wall, hearing their grumbles at his tardiness, wishing he never showed at all, but despite his crooked tie, he was determined.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, pushing the door open, "You know the drill. Either work or sit quietly, no talking, no phones. I've got my own work to do."

Will sighed softly, crouching down just slightly to grab the shopping bags, wanting to get away from Mike and his incessant voice. Rows of chairs filled the theatre, dimming sunlight pouring through the blinds.

When a group of students advanced the steps to sit right at the back, the teacher's voice called out, "Uh boys..." he cut through the void, "First three rows." Command sharp.

The students grumbled, shifting their weight down the stairs, slamming their feet against the floor, heavy. By the time Will managed to walk in with all the bags, there were only three viable seats left, a pair on the side, and a single in the very front.

Mike and Miles immediately glanced at Will who refused help with the bags, looking more like machine than boy with the amount he lifted. The empty seats beckoned them like sirens; it was like a silent standoff.

Miles eyed the pair of seats in the corner, quieter and less crowded, his usual preference. His mouth opened to suggest the idea, but Mike was faster.

"Errand boy, sit with me." The words curt, leaving no room for argument.

"Errand boy?" Miles mumbled to himself; the relationship between them even harder to decipher. Why did Will act on Mike's every whim, and why was Mike so infuriatingly himself?

Unphased, Will glanced between them and simply shrugged, spotting the empty desk in the front and practically ran toward it.

"I'm taking this one," He whispered, not wanting to sit next to Mike for the next half-hour or needing to hear whatever he'd ramble on about; honestly, Will just wanted a quiet, productive half hour, "More space for this stuff."

Mike's expression faltered for a second, caught between confusion and annoyance, "Are ya serious? You're sitting there? Don't be a nerd."

Will rolled his eyes, ready to attack back when the teacher caught wind of them, speaking up, "Boys. Take your seat."

Finality in his command.

Unbothered, Will already set the bags, taking out his workbook and a pen awkwardly leaning them against his knee as a surrogate table; there was a reason he got such high grades, and it obviously wasn't just 'natural intelligence'.

Miles looked at Mike then back at Will, unnaturally focused as he went to take one of the two remaining seats. Mike hesitated for a moment longer, lingering by Will's chair before reluctantly sitting beside Miles.

The irony wasn't lost on either of them.

Mike slouched in his seat, hiding an earbud and scrolling through his phone hidden from view, yet his eyes darted to Will every few seconds. He was just quietly scribbling in his workbook, notes a mess but somehow cohesive, and oddly Mike found himself smiling at this.

Miles on the other hand appeared perfectly calm, eyes on the clock, ticking down the seconds till he could leave; it was uncomfortable being next to Mike. He looked down, seeing Mike's bag, but it was the same one he saw this morning... the one Will retrieved. Did Will fall in the pool for this? For Mike's bag. The thought didn't sit well with him, and his fingers gripped the back of the seat in front of him, nails just a little too tight.

He needed to get to the bottom of this.

Will was physically exhausted, tired of Mike throwing commands and uprooting his entire day with just a few words. His clothes were a constant reminder of what Mike had caused him today; if Mike didn't lose his bag, then Will wouldn't have fallen in the pool, and subsequently not be in detention.

His blood pressure rose with every note he scribbled down, somehow able to focus on both his work and spiral further into his own mind.

Yet there was Miles who was nice, nicer than he appeared, nicer than people said; he made Will uneasy at times, sure, but it was clear to at least Will that the eeriness stemmed from a place of social anxiety, even if Miles himself didn't know it.

Oddly, Will found it remarkable; Miles was somehow extremely similar and the exact opposite to Mike; like two sides of the same coin. Sometimes, Will even considered they looked extremely similar, but the aura they carried distinguished them further then looks ever could.

The teacher sat at the front, essentially ignoring them, all he wanted was to sit and do his work, exactly what Will wanted. It was supposed to be a quiet detention, but the sound of scratching pencils, tapping shoes and the ticking clock filled the air.

Above it all, the tension between Miles and Mike was palpable, and despite pretending to ignore it, Will could feel both their eyes flickering toward him every few minutes, like he was on display for everyone to see.

Worst of all, they were sitting side-by-side.

Will quietly sighed, focusing on his notes, seeing half the time passed, it was only another quarter-hour until he was let go from this purgatory. And still, he couldn't shake the feeling there was something more about the eyes he was getting.

From across the hall, Miles tutted at Mike pulling a snack out his bag, crunching quiet but loud enough to reverberate his ears, he muttered under his breath, "You're a pig."

Mike didn't bother swallowing, "What was that?" he spoke mouth open, chewed food spitting out; it was like he was trying to get on his nerves.

"Tsk." Miles scoffed, looking away annoyed,

"You always this quiet?" Mike smirked, taking up as much space as possible.

"You are in my personal space," Miles ignored the question, nudging Mike's elbow off the back of his chair.

"You're imagining things, dude." Mike shrugged with a wide smile, listening to the music blasting from his earbud.

"I am not your 'dude',"

"Jeez. You are such a buzzkill." Mike stiffened his upper lip in mocking annoyance, "No wonder you and Byers are so good together."

Miles paused, opening his mouth to say something, but needing to be strategic about this, "You really don't have a brain, do you?"

"I'm right though," 

Mike hated being right this time.

Cough, cough.

There was a brief sound, a long cough coming from the front, from Will who seemingly choked on his own saliva. He chugged water and turned; they both tried to look innocent. Mike even winked.

Little did they know Will heard them... and he didn't know how to feel.

---- ----

Time passed unnaturally quick.

Free from detention, Will rose, hefting the ridiculous number of shopping bags under his arms; they weren't heavy, there was just too many to feasibly carry single-handedly. He sighed, trying to balance himself just so he could fit out the door, at this point he wasn't sure if it were possible.

Miles rushed to his side once he was allowed, reaching for the bags. But Will was quicker, shaking his head stubbornly and shuffling out the auditorium with nimble steps.

They walked in silence; the school filled with only over-achievers and club members. Will's shoes squeaked against the floor with every step, hearing the custodian's mop and bucket down the hall.

Behind them, Mike stopped at the vending machine, but Will didn't bother waiting, he'd have to see him outside anyway, they didn't have to be together at all times. He was probably getting yet another soda or was distracted with his own reflection like the proud peacock he was. Will didn't look back.

Once out the school doors, Miles broke the void, asking the question on his mind but masking it with indifference, "So what's the deal with you and... him?"

It was obvious who he was referring to.

Will feigned ignorance, "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Miles tilted his head, gesturing behind them, "he's always around you. Either yelling, dragging you off, or telling you what to do like a puppet."

"it's um... well its complicated." Will hesitated, looking away quickly, "I kinda owe him something," keeping his words intentionally vague, not wanting to expand further; he couldn't exactly say Mike was blackmailing him because he knew he was gay.

"Owe him?" Miles echoed, voice flat but eyes slightly narrowing, "What did he do for you?"

"It's not a big deal. It's just something dumb," Will reassured, forcing a sheepish, convincing smile like it wasn't the only thing he could think of every day of the week.

Humming under his breath, Miles didn't press for further details, but his sceptical nature shone through like it always did, "you shouldn't owe someone like him anything," his tone quiet but poignant.

Will's eyebrows furrowed, glancing sideways, "I guess..." nothing he could do to change it now.

"He's the kind of guy who thinks he owns you just because he can." Miles's jaw clenched softly.

Will didn't know what to say to that, only feeling Miles's steady and oddly protective gaze, like he could sense the danger Will couldn't see. The bags in his hands felt heavier all of a sudden.

"It's... not like that," Will softly admitted; why was he defending Mike?

There was no answer at first. Yet Miles reluctantly responded with a sharp gaze, side-eyeing the boy trailing them, "I hope so..."

They reached the front gates, the hue of the sky turning crimson. The subtle chill filled his core from the gaps in his oversized gym kit.

Will stepped past the gates first, stumbling through with the many bags covering his arms; he would be such an easy target to steal from right now.

Miles adjusted the strap of his backpack and gave Will one last look before nodding curtly. Something unreadable hid behind his expression, a strange mix of protectiveness and frustration, but he didn't say anything; nothing he could do would change whatever the situation was between Will and Mike.

Even if he didn't show it, he was interested in Will for some reason. Miles simply shoved his hands back into his pockets, and walked off toward the end of the road until his tall frame disappeared round the corner.

Will watched him leave, the faint quiet filling the air until Mike strolled up, whistling a tune under his breath, expression relaxed and carefree like he had no problems in the world.

"Damn, you don't need to look so sad to see me," Mike greeted, adjusting the strap of his backpack.

Still holding all the bags, Will huffed reluctantly but passed no answer. This enticed Mike who saw this as a challenge, wanting to hear Will's voice, though he'd never admit it, "That guy gives me serial killer vibes, you shouldn't hang out with him."

"Funny..." Will side-eyed, "He said something similar about you."

That was the type of thing he was hoping for, Mike smirked proud of himself, leaning down so close that his lips where mere inches away from Will's, "And what do you think?"

"I think you're a lazy piece of shit."

Not remotely offended, Mike grinned, pulling away, "anyways, I'm just here to tell you that I won't be showing up at your job today,"

"Hmm?" Will hummed, a little surprised, "Why?"

"Busy evening," he waved a hand dismissive, the corner of his mouth stretched, "got something to do with my sister; some art thing I guess."

"Since when do you help others?" Will crossed his arms, tangled in the bags looping his arms.

"When you're as blessed as I am, then it's only natural to give back." Mike paused with a subtle flex, taking the bags from Will's arms, loading them in the side compartment of his motorbike; his movements casual and practised; it was as though he'd done this millions of times before.

When he was done, he left one bag hanging on Will's forearm,

"You missed one." He held it up.

Mike turned, leaning on the side of his bike casually; he ran a hand through his hair, preparing to wear his helmet, "That one's yours."

"What? Mine?" Will looked down at it, unable to fathom what Mike was talking about, surely Mike wasn't giving him something this expensive; no, why would he do something crazy like that?

"Yeah," Mike's tone was too casual as he flicked his eyes between Will's face and the bag expectedly, like awaiting Will's reaction, "Do you have any objections?" words sharper that usual.

Will frowned, cogs turning in his brain as he tried to piece together what he could possibly mean. Then, his stomach dropped as a realisation hit him, well at least what he thought Mike wanted from him. He groaned, pressing a hand to his head.

Mike wanted him to do laundry.

The last time Will returned Mike's clothes, he gave them washed and pressed, so he must have proven that, that was another thing he was good at, audibly, he sighed.

"No objections...."

"Good." Mike gleamed with pride, "open it when you get home," rolling his eyes as he fit the helmet on his head, swinging a leg over his bike and hearing its engine sputtering to life, "See ya tomorrow,"

And with that, he sped off down the street, leaving Will standing there with a mysterious bag in hand, completely baffled, and for some reason, he wasn't as angry as he thought he'd be.

Even if he had to do laundry.

---- ----

Soak, scrub, squeeze,

Work was peaceful, extremely peaceful with no Mike around, and for the first time in a long while, Will was able to do his job.

But now that he was at home, he was lost in his biggest task yet, handwashing laundry. The small backyard light glowed faintly above him as he sat on the porch, dim and soft, stretching warm hues over the patchy grass.

Will knelt over an old plastic bucket, sleeves rolled up all the way to his elbows. His hands pruned from being submerged in the lukewarm water below, the faint scent of detergent clung to the air. On one side was Miles's gym uniform, now clean, hung on the drying line, while crumpled on the floor was the clothes from the bag Mike shoved into his hands earlier.

He sighed quietly, eyes bulging from the brand, there was no price plastered on, perhaps the outfit was too expensive that the fear of poking a price tag through the fabric would lessen its value. Mike had this innate ability to throw Will off balance, making him do things without realising he was even doing them. It wasn't like Will wanted to... it was just that he couldn't refuse.

He scrubbed and scrubbed, scared of damaging the delicate fabric, slow and steady. His hands went back into the bucket, this time carefully wringing the damp layered shirt over the water; it was strangely similar to something he would wear... perhaps Mike was taking inspiration.

Will didn't hesitate to dunk the items again and again in the soapy waters below; even his own clothes weren't allowed to touch detergent this expensive, it was yet another package his mother had aquired through another part-time job in the past.

It was wild and somewhat ridiculous to be doing laundry for the guy who blackmailed him, and yet, he smiled faintly, a small helpless smile that arose due to how deep he was in this mess to crawl out of.

The sound of bubbling water filled the air around him. He wrung out the t-shirt and hung it next to the others, fingers lingering for a few seconds just before he stepped back. The clothesline swayed.

The night breeze carried something sweet.

---- Wednesday ----

Will approached, clutching tight the gym bag and clothes he'd borrowed yesterday. He spotted Miles scrolling through his phone in the back of the class; his usual stoic expression was as unreadable and detached as ever.

"Hey Miles." Will greeted, voice a little too chipper for this early in the morning. Miles glanced up, and despite his neutrality, Will could tell he didn't seem inconvenienced; he even put his phone down, shifting his entire attention.

Will set the gym bag down on the table, even the bag smelt faintly of detergent, "Here you go," he smiled sheepish, "its cleaned and dried like I never wore it," he chuckled at his own joke,

"Oh, thanks," Miles nodded, tone flat but not cold.

Will lingered for a few seconds, not knowing how to bring up the next sentence; he was embarrassed and the heat pricked the back of his neck, crawling up. Shifting awkwardly, he pulled a tiny box out his blazer, holding it out,

Miles eyed the box in mild suspicion, "Cookies?"

"Yeah," grin uncertain but genuine, "you know, as a thank you. For the uniform, and the whole detention thing."

Up and down, Miles trailed his body, landing on Will's face rather than the cookies, "I don't like chocolate." He announced flat,

Dejected, Will felt the words hit harder than they honestly should have. "Oh..." He nervously giggled, a rosy hue painting his cheeks in pure embarrassment, quickly pulling the box back to move past the moment.

He was about to tuck the cookies back into his pocket when Miles's hand reached out, taking it from Will's grip, "I didn't say I wouldn't take it." he murmured, seemingly unbothered as he hid the box in his bag.

Internally he was... happy.

Will's smile widened, ears tinted ruby as he rubbed the sweat of his palm on his dress-pants, "I'll remember that for next time," he chuckled, trying to alleviate the awkwardness within, "I mean, you don't have to eat them," he quickly added, "you can just give them to your friends or something"

"I'll eat them." The finality in his voice was tight and Will didn't know how to respond to that, he only had the ability to laugh properly this time, a light sound trailing the air,

For a second, Miles lost composure, a slight cough leaving his throat at the sight of Will's little smile. His lips involuntarily touched upwards, unable to hide the way he felt, "Homeroom's gonna start in a bit," he mumbled upon realising his failure to hide.

Will blinked at him, the clock on the wall told him there was still another ten-minutes, but knowing how quiet Miles was, Will decided it was best to just agree with him, perhaps he needed some time to recuperate his social battery before school.

"Okay then! See ya." Will smiled soft, already leaving back to his desk with a little wave,

He didn't bother sitting down, grabbing the shopping bag Mike had given him yesterday. His expression, however, was extremely different from the nervous one he had moments ago with Miles.

Preparing for a headache, Will reached Mike's desk, thudding the bag down on the table, "Here." His voice curt upon seeing Mike slouched, foot hooked lazily around the leg of his chair, and when the bag hit the table, he grinned eye-to-eye like a cheshire cat.

Mike held his hands out as if waiting for something; a gift perhaps, hands spread wide, and wiggling his fingers,

Will furrowed his brows, "what are you doing?"

"Give me my cookies then."

"Excuse you?" Will gasped at the audacity.

"don't hold out on me sweetheart," Mike smirked clearly entertained, talking in the same way he'd talk to girls; it just slipped out before he noticed.

Eyes flicked up and down, deadpanned, "Don't call me that."

"C'mon sweetheart, don't be like that." Embarrassed of his blunder, Mike doubled down, making it a joke as he always did, though, for some reason, he felt strange. His hands stretched expectedly, grin growing wider like a puppy begging for a treat, "hand it over, I know you can't hold out on me."

Before he could even blink, Will smacked his hands, right, then left. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but the sharp contact stung, making Mike flinch and quietly yelp, more from surprise than pain.

"Ow!" Mike hissed, hands drawing back, "What the fuck was that?"

"That was for calling me sweetheart."

"Dammit!" Mike shook his hands; he didn't see the big deal, "Y'know for a gay guy, you sure hit hard,"

"Do you want me to smack you again?" Will warned, eyes telling him to pipe down with the noise.

Mike's grin faltered for a moment, mostly because he wasn't used to seeing Will using this tone with him... but he didn't exactly hate it; it was like a side Will never showed to anyone else.

Only Mike could see it.

"Loverboy got one for giving you his gym clothes; don't I get anything?" he gestured lazily toward Miles who was quietly scrolling his phone a few desks over, pretending not to listen, but unable to make out the words.

"Well, 'Loverboy' gave me clothes to wear, you made me wash yours," Will didn't bother arguing, instead using the words against him; Will didn't want to give him the satisfaction of an explosive reaction.

"Wash?" Mike tilted his head with a furrowed brow.

"Yeah," Will crossed his arms, "What else was I supposed to do? you gave me a bag of new clothes and told me to wash them; you're the reason I fell in the pool and then I have to wash your clothes... that's cruel even for you."

Up at Will, down at the bag, then back at Will.

Mike blinked, snorting out while running a hand through his hair with a mix of disbelief and quiet amusement, "You actually thought I wanted you to wash them?"

Clearly not finding the humour, Will frowned, "What else was I supposed to do with it?"

Mikr reached for the bag, tugging it closer, pulling open the top so he could peek inside clearer this time. Sure enough, inside where the clothes he'd given were neatly folded, smelling faintly of detergent. Mike stared for a moment, a quiet smile forming his lips.

Something... fond.

Finally, he landed on Will, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle, "For a scholarship student, you can be such an idiot sometimes,"

"Excuse me?" Will recoiled, thrown off by the tone.

"I didn't give you these clothes to wash, you dumbass," tone shifting low and genuine, "They're for you... to wear."

---- ----

4295 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV –

"Huh?" Will stared down at him with furrowed brows, wondering if Mike's brain had finally blown a fuse; was this some kind of trick? Or perhaps it was Mike's way of expressing his wealth over Will like a form of charity.

The casual shrug did nothing to quell Will's thoughts; in fact, they only made his suspicions deepen even more. His smile put up a façade of something hidden behind them, "You fell in the pool cause of me or whatever," he mumbled,

Dumbfounded, Will just hovered at his desk, upper lip scrunched in confusion, "You... brought me clothes?" he quietly asked, disbelief thick in his voice.

"Didn't I just say that?" Mike rolled his eyes, brushing off sincerity with his usual bravado, "And don't make it sound weird. I'm not completely heartless y'know."

"What are you planning?" Will furrowed his brows,

"I'm not playing any game." Mike smirked again, though it wasn't cruel or amused, "I just want you to wear nice clothes..." he paused for a few seconds before continuing with a deepening smile, "And since you've already washed and ironed it, you should wear it this Saturday."

"This Saturday?" Will's voice trailed off, remembering that in a few days was the school's open house. It was also the day of the art competition. Will wanted to have a fun day with his friends, not be given a constant reminder of what he couldn't afford all day. His eyes widened, shaking his hands around, "Nope! No way!"

"Why not?"

"Because... because... well, um," he stumbled through the sentence; he couldn't easily explain his inner thoughts to Mike, he'd seem like some pathetic loser, and Will would rather sink into the ground than let Mike get even more of the upper hand.

"You're wearing it Saturday."

It wasn't a question; it was a command; one Will couldn't allowed to refuse.

With a little sigh, he nodded along, it was best to be on Mike's good side after all, and besides... the clothes weren't the most horrid thing in the world; no, it clearly wasn't Will's style, but it was at the very least wearable.

Though, deep down, Will wondered if wearing these clothes was like being branded, as if telling the whole world.

'I belong to Mike Wheeler.'

---- ----

After school, Will placed the earbuds in on his daily commute home; around his fingers curled the handle of the bag Mike gave; a pair of clothes resting just for him to unveil on Saturday.

The thought made Will's head spin.

Nothing made sense; why did Mike buy him this? The answer may be too much to bear; whether it was pity, humiliation or another daunting emotion, Will wished to live ignorant.

He was tangled in the headphones but he didn't care, all he wanted was a little peace to drown the noise of chatting students.

Then suddenly, someone slid into the seat beside him with surprising speed, "Hi!"

Will jumped, head hitting the window in shock, "El?"

El beamed, bouncing up and down, bag clung tight around her body, "I almost missed the bus!" she said breathless, turning to him with bright eyes, "I have never been on one before."

"This... is your first time?"

El nodded, "Papa said that public busses are really filthy," then she paused as if looking around to confirm, "I do not think it is too bad."

Looking around, Will couldn't really disagree, "yeah, it can be a lot dirtier than this, but it's never too bad. Not like the subway."

"I want to go on the subway one day,"

"I'll take you." Will smiled despite his confusion; what was someone like El doing on a public bus? Was she lost, or was this a form of exploration? Biting the bullet, Will asked the question on his mind, "El what exactly are you doing here?"

"Oh right!" She hit her head with her palm in the excitement and anxiety of going on the bus, "I was thinking, that maybe we could study together today? At the library you go to study."

Stunned, Will mouth hung agape, "Uh..."

"You have been so busy helping everyone lately, so I figured I would take your time too; you are all mine to study with today." She announced, bouncing up and down, "I want to go to your study spot."

Nervously smiling back, Will had only allowed himself to smile, not wanting to destroy her joyful vibe. His study spot wasn't a library nor fancy café, rather it was behind the counter of the internet café he worked. The same café he was technically not supposed to be working at.

"Uh..." Will's mind scrambled for a solution, picturing her turning her nose up at the café; compared to the library she was used to the café was essentially a hovel. He forced a smile, rubbing the back of his neck at her expectant eyes, "Yeah! That sounds great, maybe we can figure it out when we get there."

They say never to 'shit where you eat'... well Will was about to defecate everywhere.

Yet El never saw the creases of his smile, unaware of his inner panic, "Perfect! Oh, and maybe we should get milkshakes? Dustin said they are delectable. I... do not eat a lot of sugar."

Will didn't question it, having nothing more to elaborate on the situation; Elanor was truly a rare pearl, like her world was one secluded bubble, like everything she knew was what she was told to believe. As he eyed her, he noticed something different,

"Your hair." He mumbled; it was shorter, just brushing her jaw, cut in a neat, even line. He blinked, sitting up a little, "You cut your hair?"

El's expression faltered, fingers rubbing the tips of now cut split ends. Then, just as quick, she smiled again, a little too bright, "Yeah," she nodded soft, "Papa said it was too long."

Will tilted his head, noticing her shifting expression that was just a little too off, something distance in the way she said it; her words emphasised, too bubbly, too... unnatural.

"Well, I like your hair regardless, both long and short!" He smiled.

El's fingers brushed through the ends of her hair, looking away with a sullen smile, "I would love to have really long hair," she paused, voice quieter and looking back, "I'd braird it and put tiny flowers in it... maybe ribbons..." she giggled soft.

Will smiled gently at the mental image; it fit her perfectly, "That'd look nice," he said, "You'd pull it off for sure!"

Brown eyes greeted his hazel ones, but there was still a faint trace of something sweet behind that smile; it was like she was trying her hardest not to erupt with emotion, whatever they might be, "Thank you... maybe one day when Papa is less strict."

Will hummed in agreement, he couldn't know how it felt to be her, but for some reason the silence was oddly comfortable, "Yeah, dads are like that."

El glanced at him, "Your Papa too?"

"He's not really in the picture," Will admitted with an awkward smile,

El passed a sympathetic eye; both didn't have the best fathers; they were closer than she thought. The tension in her shoulders faded. "If my hair grows out, you can help me decorate it with the flowers."

"Deal," Will met her gaze.

---- ----

Off the bus, the afternoon air felt oddly heavy, not from the weather but from the odd uncertainty of what may happen after Will tells El about his job; he couldn't back down now. The street was always the same, similar cracks and storefronts buzzing with life; Will eyed El, wondering what she was even thinking, this was nothing like the streets she was used to.

Instead, her expression was soft, eyes widened and staring at all the storefront quietly reading.

When Will turned the corner by a convenience store, loud laughter carried down the street like a thick fog, and even before Will could fully look, he recognised the voices.

His... old bullies.

Every instinct inside his body told him to run. But he froze, body stiffening and shoulder subconsciously hunched. His steps faltered to a mere crawl, not enough for El to notice.

Will immediately avoided eye contact with them, turning his head down, as though the concrete kept him mesmerised, heart already beating faster.

Unlucky as he usually was, the boys noticed him. Will heard their laughter dim to sharpness.

One of them, James, a tall boy who had grown muscles since the last time Will had seen him, raised his hands and called out, "Yo Byers!"

Will swallowed hard, not able to lift his head just trying to ignore them; he didn't respond, hoping them would just let him pass.

Not now.

Not with El here.

But of course they didn't. The two boys peeled themselves off the wall and blocked the way, sneakers squeaking against the pavement. James's tone was unnatural, oversweet and mocking sincerity, "How've you been, man? ...And who is this?" he gestured to El.

Will's mouth was dry, unable to respond. This lack made another boy, Troy, speak up, "It's obviously his girlfriend dude," only saying that to taunt Will even more; they knew he was gay.

"I'm El... and I'm not his girlfriend." She tilted her head, somewhat oblivious,

Stepping closer, Troy chuckled, "Well, I guess that's a good thing then, I wouldn't want to be the one to break the news to you,"

"The news?"

"Will didn't tell you? He's like a local celebrity." His tone was like syrup, too sugary and with a grin wider than his ears, "He's got quite the reputation."

Will looked between them, stomach twisting, feeling the bullies staring, threatening to tell El all about how he's 'the resident fairy'. That's what most called him in secret... even the parents.

Humiliation filled his every pore; he could never escape it.

El furrowed her brows, eyeing Will, not knowing why he didn't respond; she may be naïve, but even she could sense the situation,

"Will let's go." She announced,

Before he could stammer a response, El's hand grabbed his wrist and tugged him forward, being eye to eye with Troy, "Move." she spat with venom, leaving no room for argument.

Her small frame moved fast with surprising strength, bumping shoulders with the bullies when they didn't move fast enough, cutting straight through the pair. Troy yelped as the shoulder slammed into his arm, not enough to hurt, but enough to make him stumble.

"Watch where you're going bitch." He huffed, using James to keep himself from the floor,

"You were in my way." El side-eyed before turning away, taking Will with her. There was no emotion in her voice, just a steady, sharp look that left the bullies grumbling.

Will allowed himself to be pulled down the street. The laughter behind them faltered before starting again, weaker this time, almost like the bullies didn't know quite what to make of what happened.

... but they didn't like it.

When they reached the next corner, El stopped, hand still wrapped around his wrist but loosening soft as Will allowed himself to take a seat at a nearby bench, calibrating his brain and calming down his thumping heart.

"They are not your friends... are they?" El asked,

"What?" He looked up at her, eyes widened, shaking his head to calm himself, "it's um, nothing."

"I do not believe that," El noted as a fact, not teasingly, "you look terrified,"

"They just... caught me by surprise." Not meeting her eyes but his hands kept fidgeting.

El sighed, taking the seat next to him, speaking softly, but with the same conviction she always had, "guys like that..." she paused, "they only talk big because they are insecure."

"You think?"

She nodded, "They do not understand why they feel the way they do, so they make noise."

At that, Will paused, surprised by her words; it all seemed so simple in her eyes. It made him wonder if El was more naive than he thought. He knew better than anyone that some people were just cruel for no reason.

Then, dusting himself off, he stood with clear determination; he wasn't sure about his actions, but there was no turning back, "let's go study!" he smiled with conviction matching hers.

El smiled politely. She didn't ask or push further on what just happened, instead allowing the silence to soak over as she rose.

Side by side, the pair walked, no words needed. Will looked at her but she wasn't even looking at him, just at the stores all around like this were the first time she'd been out the house on her own.

And they kept walking, the air felt oddly warm as they advanced closer, the distance between them and the internet café shorter and shorter.

It was the last block.

"Here we are." Will gestured at the café-front, a few minutes passing as they stood outside. The internet café sat tucked away between a laundromat and a convenience store, neon sign burning their retinas.

El eyes lifted, through the window she could see the soft hum of computers and customers who appeared to be regulars. Her eyes widened, "this is where you come study? Woah..."

Hesitation hit, Will nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, "yeah, well I kinda spend a lot of time here," he awkwardly smiled, opening the door for them to hear the bell jingle above.

Inside, the air was warm and smelt faintly of coffee, dust and whatever air-freshener Robin brought that week. Rows of computers lined the walls, each glow pale. A low, almost hummed song played from the speakers above, an instrumental from Will's discography.

Eyes wandering all round, El turned in circles, flickering from one item to the next, not knowing what to focus on first, "It is so cute in here!" clearly not something she was not used to.

"Yeah, it is." Will grinned, amused by how genuinely fascinated she was. Then, he walked around the front counter, slipping easily behind the desk. He took a seat, straightening a few items out of habit, and then he looked back at her, "This is... where I work actually,"

"Work...?" El blinked, "You are not allowed to work."

Wincing slightly, Will scratched his nape, explaining as best he could, "I know... but being at a school like ours, its... difficult."

El's browed lifted, but her eyes remained soft, nodding in understanding, "you work and study?"

"Sometimes at the same time," he giggled to alleviate the pressure. "Do you... like it?"

Politely, she smiled back,

She then glanced around the internet café, glancing at the humming machines, café full, with a man serving customers and the posters specifically chosen on the walls.

"I really like it," she admitted quiet,

"Please don't tell anyone."

Slowly, it seemed as though she was thinking. Then, she smiled mischievously, lifting her hand and making a playful zipping motion line her lips; the exact one Will had done to her prior.

Caught off-guard by the motion, Will smiled soft, murmuring a quiet, "Thanks El,"

She only nodded, zipping her lips again with a wink before wandering off to explore the rows of glowing monitors and gaggle of girls surrounding the café.

Will watched her explore, an odd mix of relief and affection curling in his chest. Maybe, just maybe having her here wasn't going to be as complicated as he thought.

And hopefully... it wouldn't come back to bite him in the behind.

---- ----

They didn't talk much.

Time passed around them, sounds of murmuring customers dulling in their ears. The air was calm, oddly cozy even to El who was non-accustomed to this type of area, appearing to be enjoying herself. She sat beside him, the space barely enough for room to spare.

And somehow, the atmosphere felt more comfortable than ever, like two sides of the same coin.

"Did you use the positive or negative sign in this equation," Will suddenly asked, frowning down at his worksheet.

"Negative." El glanced over her shoulder, pen not leaving the paper.

"Thought so," Will mumbled, returning to his work;

Every little while, a customer would appear, perforating their little bubble momentarily, disorientating Will who would need to immediately get back into the groove to avoid falling behind El.

Breaking through the void, Will's phone buzzed against the counter, crawling toward his hand. He flinched a little, glancing down to see the glow of the screen cutting through the quiet rhythm of their study session.

For a second, he thought it was Mike.

However, when he looked closer, the caller ID blared Lucas's name, and underneath that was an icon indicating that it was a group-call with Dustin too.

Will furrowed his brows with a half-smile, not knowing what to expect, "oh boy..." he murmured before swiping up to answer,

"WILL! DUDE! listen, you're not gonna believe this!" Lucas' voice exploded through the speaker loud enough to reverberate Will's head, piercing his ears. Will quietly turned the volume down, holding the phone to his ear, "Yeesh! Calm down man!"

Dustin's voice cut in next, quieter, but just as chaotic, "You're lucky, he's been freaking out like this for the past twenty minutes."

"Who's that?" El turned from her notebook curiously. Will mouthed a 'Lucas' to her and she just nodded, turning back to her,

"Yo, is that El?" Lucas ignored him and continued, "Get her on the call, I need her help too,"

"Oh... okay?" Will's brows furrowed, shaking his head but scooching his chair closer to her, whispering a quiet, "he wants you on call too,"

El recoiled, cheeks blushed; did Lucas consider her a friend? Nonetheless, she agreed, tucking the hair behind her ears, pushing her head closer to the side of Will's phone.

"I'm here Lucas," El announced quiet,

"Good," he began, words spilling over, "okay so I think I know why Max is so pissed with me,"

"Do tell Romeo," Dustin mocked, but the seriousness held an undercurrent.

"Well it has come to my attention from my sister," he begrudgingly whispered that last part before getting back on track, "this last week was the anniversary of our first fight; the one when we got stuck on the top of that Ferris Wheel."

Raising a brow, Will blinked, "Would Max even care about something like that?" to him, she didn't seem like the type who would care.

"I'm so sure of it. that's why she is so mad at me." Lucas explained, "Even if it's not, I won't go down without a fight; I'll make up for it anyways,"

That broke the group into a small giggle, half over the dramatic tone, while the other were from the genuineness in his voice. Lucas sighed on the other side but regardless allowed them to tease.

The energy was light, brimming with unbridled warmth.

"I have a plan, but I'm gonna need all your guys' help,"

And then,

The front door jungled.

Will and El looked up from the counter just in time to see Mike slide in, holding a large cardboard box in both hands. His voice was casual but loud enough to fill the air, "Yo errand boy, I need ya to label and package these vapes-"

El's eyes went wide as Will furrowed him,

Before he could finish, both let out a warning,

"SHHHHHHHH!"

---- ----

3204 Words

Sorry for the long wait i had exams amongst other personal things

i shall do better

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV –

Mike recoiled.

Now he stood awkwardly at the counter, not sure he was allowed to move. His head tilted at the bizarre scene, like something out of a poorly written fanfiction Will would read. He clutched the box, spreading the weight so he wouldn't drop it.

Will had the phone pressed between himself and El like hiding a terrible secret.

In a way, they were.

Lucas's voice buzzed just enough for the pair to hear, "Okay so here's my plan," he started, trying to sound strategic, "Dustin, I need you to keep Max busy during lunch and study hall..." not waiting for an answer as he continued.

"...while Will and El help me with setup! I'm talking full surprise. Decorations, lights, flowers and all the romantic stuff Max likes. We'll do it in our homeroom during study period. I'll get her there and then boom, Anniversary remembered and we'll get back together."

"Didn't you say the anniversary was last week?" Dustin questioned.

Lucas clicked his teeth, "Yeah, but we got together a week later... and that would be tomorrow." He softened up, "This is my last chance to fix it."

El perked up beside Will, eyes lighting up with a thoughtful voice as she spoke for them all. "We will help."

"Great!" Lucas said enthusiastically. "We'll sneak everything in tomorrow morning. It needs to be perfect, guys. I can't mess this up again."

There was a pause, and despite the absolute mental gymnastics of his plan, Will smiled. "We've got your back, dude."

"Thanks, man," Lucas said sincerely, "I need to order everything right now, I'll keep you guys updated," he brimmed with excitement,

The phone switched off and the pair were now set free; they exchanged a glance, one that said more words than they knew possible.

"So..." Mike stretched jokingly, "what was that about?" he almost sung.

"It's nothing." Will replied casual, honestly not wanting to hear any withering takes Mike had on the surprise anniversary party.

"It didn't look like nothing," Mike raised a brow, gently lifting the box onto the counter, shifting it to one side, almost completely forgetting it.

"Well, it's none of your business," Will retort, but voice not entirely rude.

Mike eyed him up and down while breaking into a grin, voice lowering playfully, "So that's how it is? I thought there were no secrets between us?"

"I barely know you." he deadpanned.

"And yet I seem to know the most about you." Mike's voice furthered into a whisper,

Annoyed, Will huffed, "I'm working." He gestured to El who gave a meek yet confused smile as if waiting for a moment to jump in, "Do you not have anything else to do today?"

"Hmmmm?" Mike pretended to ponder, shoving the large box to fill Will's view, "Well I do have this,"

"Not this again." Will sighed, "No more movies."

"Relax puppy." Mike shook his head, ruffling his head almost mockingly, "It's not like I'm gonna make you sell them."

"Never call me a puppy again." Will swat the hand away, glaring from beneath his now-messy hair.

Snickering under his breath, Mike's smirk widened, "You don't hate it that much when I say it."

"I hate it more when you say it." Will huffed, blowing hair out his eyes.

Suddenly, El cut through the conversation, unable to read exactly what was going on before her. The entire situation set some senses off, "I didn't know you two were friends."

Reacting first, Mike perked up immediately, "of course we're friends, we're like best buds."

"I know of him." Will responded curt, unsure what his relationship with Mike was; sure, to some they could be classed as friends as they do spend a lot of time together, but that couldn't be further from the truth... although, Will did have to admit that Mike wasn't as bad as the first time they met.

Maybe they could have been friends had they met under different circumstances...

"Wow!" Mike blinked, hiding his offense behind a dramatically shocked expression; he wasn't sure why Will's words struck him so, "Damn, brutal. And here I thought we had something very special."

"Micheal." Will warned, shooting an unimpressed look.

"Why do you never call me Mike? Always Micheal like we're strangers." He leaned further on the table, essentially covering Will's line of site, "Mike, Mike- M-h-h-ike." He phonetically enunciated every syllable.

Will didn't even dignify that with an answer, just muttering a quiet "Out his mind,"

El however, watched the exchange in amusement, naivety taking over as she assumed this was friendly bickering, yet something churned within. She tilted her head as if genuinely curious, "You two are... funny together."

Cheeks colouring, Will froze, "Funny?"

Thoughtfully, El admitted, "Mike usually has trouble making male friends."

"He does?" Will snorted, smile wide and excited; finally, something he could laugh at Mike about. Was it cruel? Sure. But in his eyes, Will earned this right.

"Yes." El nodded extremely matter-of-factly, "people don't like him very much."

Mike looked mortified, "El!"

Will was not holding his laughter back, shoulders trembling as he covered his mouth; soft but hearty, like the first time he'd laughed in a long time.

Still slightly embarrassed from El's comment, Mike straightened and coughed into his fist, "alright, enough social hour," he muttered, looking away a little sharp-eyed, "I have shit for you to do."

"I'm revising... with El." Will smiled, knowing El was Mike's soft spot; as long as she was here, he was essentially invincible.

And perhaps he could get some more embarrassing information about him, just maybe he could blackmail Mike back.

Mike shot a sharp look, "Nope," he slid the box back over, slinging it atop Will's notebook with a little thud, "You're helping me."

"What are..." Will reached into the box, taking one out to see, "A vape?"

"Uh duh. Its popular."

"Yeah... no can do..." He analysed the vape, turning it around in his hands, reading the chemical ingredients and enhanced flavour tubes within, placing it back in the box, "...unless you wanna lose your one friend." Will giggled again.

"I wasn't asking." Mike's voice dropped low, usual humour draining as he leaned closer, invading Will's personal space. His voice became eerily quiet, threatening and a whisper that only Will could hear, "You remember our little deal, don't you... friend?"

Casual clutter of the café dulled in Will's ears, even El who was mere inches away suddenly felt distant. Mike's breath brushed against his ears, words measured and deliberate,

"Because it'd be a shame..." Mike continued lightly, "...if someone got the wrong idea about you."

Will's jaw clenched, stomach twisting, sickly mix of anger and helplessness under his skin. He forced himself to slowly exhale through his nose, not looking at El who was blissfully unaware of the shift in tone.

"Your unbelievable," Will muttered in a grumble, taking the vapes out with a little huff; although he couldn't take it to heart, Mike was always hot and cold like this.

Maybe Mike was just a rotten apple.

MIKE POV -

Finally straightening up, Mike grinned again like nothing happened, watching Will's hands move with quiet precision over the vapes inside, like he'd accepted this sort of treatment.

The sharp scene of strawberries and bubble gum liquid filled the air, and for a second, the tension in Mike's shoulders tinted to something heavier...

Guilt.

He hadn't meant to say that. Well, not in that way. The words came out before he even knew it, in the same way they always did when he felt cornered.

He reacted unproportionally over something El had naively admitted about him out of a place of care. It landed like a knife to the chest; he truly had no male friends. Between the rumours about him, his aggression, temper, attitude, his past, and even his family, why would anyone stick around him?

those rumours made about him, despite having truth to some of them, defined him. when anyone said his name, that's all they thought of.

He didn't know where the emerged from, stemming from true stories that spiralled into something unreal; he'd never got a girl pregnant, he'd broke a guy's nose, but he recover almost instantly, yet the arson...

Maybe he deserved to be lesser than.

It was only natural for Will to laugh about something like that, he didn't blame him. Not even cruel, more from shock and ridiculousness.

So, Mike did what he always did.

He doubled down.

He reminded Will who had the power.

Now though, as Will labelled and sorted in silence, not meeting his eyes, the victory felt hollow, growing accustom to the push back, like it were the only form of real human interaction he had besides the endless girls he'd romance.

And even then, did they truly like him for who he was, or how he was perceived?

His hubris was forever his downfall, needing to be at the top while pushing everyone else down; he wasn't important anywhere else, so perhaps exerting whatever power he could on Will was a way to make up for it.

He wasn't crazy.

He was a child, a child who needed to be the fastest on the playground.

Mike wanted to apologise, which was strange, he never apologised for anything before; why should he? He was dealt the wrong cards at birth, merely spare parts for his sister with anger issues and the curse of being himself.

Instead, he showed his hands in his pockets and muttered, "Don't make those labels crooked, yeah?"

Will didn't bother glancing up, replying dry, "yeah. I know."

Mike's smirk was half-hearted at best. He leaned forward on the counter again, resting his chin on his hand, watching Will work.

Only now did he really notice Will's face... he was good looking, sure, Mike's admitted that before, but this time was different.

Mike exhaled through his nose, looking at Will with downturned lips, analysing Will's features. The smaller boy's hair was slightly messy, brows knitted in concentration, making his eyes glow hazel in the reflection. Not to mention the moles that trailed down his neck.

Mike wondered how many more he had...

Not in a weird way he would think about with girls, no. He was just genuinely curious, thoughts spiralling.

Yet, the part that he hated the most was that Will would probably forget about this tomorrow; despite having every chance in the world to curse Mike out any opportunity he could, Will would instead build up his self-esteem, advise him on the truth and worry about his health.

Deep down, Mike knew he would never expose Will no matter how harshly Will spoke to him...

So why did he still keep him around?

EL POV-

She couldn't help but notice.

Like an outsider looking in, she could only watch the scene unfolding before her, pencil hovering over an empty page in her notebook. Her eyes cast between the two boys,

More accurately, to the way Mike was leaning on the counter now, his usual sharp grin softening at the edges, fixed on Will.

It wasn't the same look Mike usually gave others, even the girls Mike flirted with didn't get that sort of treatment. It wasn't a smug, confident, know-it-all expression he gave when he'd once more gotten away with something. This was different. This was raw.

El's stomach twisted.

She remembered that look.

Mike used to look at her like that. Back before everything changed, before he started missing classes, before the fights, and before he was sent away to that behaviour school.

They used to be best friends; she'd sneak over to his house on occasion; he was the only person she really knew outside her home. Thankfully, her Papa and Ted Wheeler were close, meaning their chance encounters were less frowned upon.

When she heard the whispered rumours of a mysterious transfer from a behavioural school, she wished it was him but never kept her hopes.

Yet, when El saw him walk into their homeroom after being away for so long, she thought things would just go back to normal. She'd imagined he'd sit beside her in the cafeteria again, talk to her like before, maybe even walk her home.

For a while, she held onto that thought.

Yet, she didn't see that version of Mike, not the boy who would sneak her out to play with barbies or let her sit on the back of his bicycle, riding fast because he didn't want her to be caught.

He was louder now, brash, flirty, a magnetic kind of trouble that drew people in without trying. He teased girls in the hallways, telling them the parts he loved about them, smirking when they laughed a little too loud or blushingly grazed arm,

The way he carried himself was like nothing could touch him.

And still, when he saw her, he smiled, talked to her like he always did, using the same tone and even teased her like he used to. but there was a distance between them...

It hurt.

Hurt much more than she could possibly understand why; he hadn't done anything wrong... he was just different, evolved. In a way, they both were.

Watching him now, the way he leaned over the counter to smile soft when Will had just laughed in his face. El realised it wasn't that Mike had changed... he'd shifted.

Something twisted in her chest.

His focus was empty, leaving class the moment it ended; it wasn't out the ordinary, he hated school, she assumed it was more of that.

El hadn't thought much of it at first. Mike was always jumping from one distraction to another, a girl one week, then a hustle, then a project the next week before repeating the cycle.

Will wasn't the type of person Mike usually paid attention; first of all, he was a boy. A quiet, serious, studious boy, the kind that hid into the background but had the backbone to call him out on his behaviour.

And yet, Mike seemed drawn to him.

El began to realise that she hadn't really seen Mike flirt in the same way anymore. She used to see him in the hall, leaning over a girl to get her attention, but it seemed like they barely caught his attention now. His eyes didn't linger but his voice was still sweetened with charm. It was like he was burned out on that sort of attention... like he'd found something new.

Instead, it was Will that got his attention.

She couldn't deny it; the way Will seemed almost subservient to Mike, acting on his every whim. Will had also been strange nowadays, nervous and running through the halls for a soda or snack, but instead of using it for himself, he'd place it on Mike's desk.

The sight resonated.

It wasn't that El was jealous, rather confused. Mike had always been a mystery when they were close, but this version of Mike, the one quietly hovering over Will, watching with something almost akin to endearment in his eyes, it was something new.

El wasn't possessive, neither envious.

But the truth was too hard to swallow.

Will had beaten her... again.

First in grades, effortlessly outshining her in class no matter how hard she studied, he'd gotten the higher grades recently, and now, he had taken Mike too, her only real friend.

Her hand tightened around the pencil until it snapped.

It wasn't Will's fault; he was nice, awkward and smart; a kind of strange, clumsy charm that seemed to draw people into his orbit; it was one of the reasons El liked him; he was genuine and a bundle of love.

But that charm worked on Mike too.

An uninvited thought entered her brain, sharp and ugly, like a never-ending echo. What if she found a way to pull Mike and Will apart?

The idea, although foreign, was disturbingly easy to imagine; all it would take was a few words and a little imagination. She knew things about Mike that others didn't, his soft spots that she could use to paint Will as the worst person on the planet. All in all, she could easily break them apart, unravelling their friendship and neither would be the wiser. She was both their friends, but she didn't want them to be close together.

Then, her breath hitched.

Her nose was heavy.

Realisation of her mind made her stomach dropped, looking down at her trembling hands, eyes flickering around the empty notebook before her, drops of blood staining the page. She shook her head hard as if that could scatter the thoughts trying to root themselves deeper.

She wasn't that kind of person.

She wasn't her Papa.

But the intensity of how easily she thought of that plan scared her...

WILL POV -

---- Thursday ----

The classroom smelt faintly of food and lingering perfume, the kind that exude quality. Will balanced precariously on the teacher's swivel chair, tongue stuck out slightly in concentration as he tried to tape the end of the banner above the chalkboard.

On the other side of the room, Lucas was arranging a small bouquet of flowers, the best money could buy into a vase he specially brought in Max's favourite colour. El stood by a row of desks, carefully unsheathing the catering Lucas had manged to smuggle into the class. The table was modest but overflowing.

Lost in concentration, Will lost footing as the chair swivelled beneath him. He yelped softly, the tape roll slipping from his fingers. For a second, he was sure he was about the crash to the floor taking down the dessert table, but before that could happened, a firm hand gripped the back of his chair, steadying it.

Will froze, exhaling aloud in relief, "thanks El," he began, heart racing without looking down,

However, when the response was a low chuckle instead of El's soft voice, Will frowned. Slowly, he glanced down and saw Mike standing there, one hand gripping the chair while looking up at him, smug smile on his features.

"'El', huh?" Mike chuckled, "I don't remember changing my name..."

Scrunching his face, Will clicked his teeth not appreciating the joke, cutting to the chase, "What are you doing here?"

Mike tilted his head, pretending to think, "well I texted you... twice, but since someone didn't check his messages, I figured I'd just follow the trail of glitter and... whatever this tape is." He bent down, turning the washi-tape in his hand, eyes sparkling in amusement.

With furrowed brows, Will fumbled the phone out his pocket seeing several messages; did he really come all this way because he thought Will was ignoring him?

[MIKE]: "Yo, com to the roof."

[MIKE]: "u alive?"

[MIKE]: "Don make me cme find u."

"Sorry." Will nervously laughed, cheeks heating up, "Lucas wanted to do something special for Max so we're setting this up for her."

"So that's what you were whispering about yesterday," Mike immediately connected the dots, glancing around the room to see the half set food table, balloons and banners on the walls, "I guess helping other people makes you think you can avoid your duties with me."

Will huffed, rolling his eyes but not annoyed, "helping my friends doesn't mean I'm ignoring you..." he mocked back, "No need to be so insecure about your only 'friend' having other friends."

Mike didn't like that, yet not hating the way Will called them friends even if It were meant to belittle him. For some reason, when it came from Will in that tone, he couldn't help but chuckle, "yeah, cause your my 'best friend', might as well date with how close we are; I bet that was your plan all along."

Did he really say that?

"What are you even yammering about? I wouldn't go for you if you were the last guy on earth," Will narrowed his eyes; Mike always knew exactly what to say to make Will squirm, but reflectively, he smiled at the absurdity, "whatever," he deflected, "just help me down from here before I fall and break your neck." Extending a hand out for him to grab,

Instead, Mike stepped forward, hands reaching straight for Will's waist. Before he could react, Mike grabbed on, lifting him as if light as a feather and hoisting him gently down on the classroom floor.

The boy was too stunned to speak.

"O-oh..." Will mumbled, looking up at Mike with confused eyes.

Stepping back, Mike gave a faint, almost self-conscious smile. "You were wobbling too much."

"I wanted a hand." Will muttered, brushing his hands on the dry of his pants, suddenly aware of the closeness, "I didn't need all that... help."

The silence stretched on...

Until Lucas's voice pitched higher than usual echoing across the half decorated classroom.

"What do you mean you mean your van is full? I paid extra for it! You promised you'd deliver it!" Lucas groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "then what did I pay for then?"

El looked up from the balloon she was puffing into existence; she raised her brows, eyes scanning the room; instead of focusing on the task of hand, her tunnel vision zoomed in on Mike...

With Will.

Will frowned, almost pushing Mike out the way to get to Lucas, "they're refusing to deliver the cake?"

Lucas paced, vein in his forehead popping, gesturing wildly with the phone, "They said it's not done yet; it's bullshit!"

Sympathetically frowning, Will stepped closer, "Let me talk to them,"

"What?"

"You are going to get banned if you keep shouting at them," Will kept level-headed, at least one of them needed too, "I deal with stubborn people all the time." He passed a half-dig at Mike, seeing him in the corner of his eye.

Torn, Lucas hesitated in scepticism, finally shoving the phone in Will's hand, "Fine. Go ahead. But if they hang up on you, I'm throwing a fit,"

"Breathe dude, breathe." Will soothed, accepting the phone and turning with a whisper, "Hello there," he said, voice suddenly taking on that calm, customer service persona he usually did, too calm for a high schooler,

The voice on the other side seemed apologetic, almost scared of Will suddenly blowing up. They spoke eloquently, poignant, explaining the reason for the situation, "We will refund the delivery costs, but it is impossible to deliver the cake at the appointed time." They gave an ultimatum, "We can either deliver a plain frosted cake, or you can come collect the cake in half-an-hour and get it decorated the way you requested."

"Hmm..." he listened, expression unchanging except of the slow nod, biting the inside of his cheek. With a soft sigh he explained it to Lucas who was trying his hardest not to punch his head through the wall,

"If we come to collect it, could you have it rung up so we can take it and leave quickly?" Will asked into the phone, wanting to know all the information before he made an educated decision.

After hearing an affirmative and with the promise of extras thrown in for the inconvenience, Will expressed thanks before handing the phone back to Lucas, call disconnected.

"So now what?" Lucas frowned, "I can't leave right now! I have to be here, all hands on deck!"

"Okay, calm down." Will lifted both hands in a soothing gesture, "relax Lucas, I'll go get the cake, how far can it be?"

"That place is across town!" Lucas thought, a tiny bit more logical,

"Huh?"

"you'd barely be back before Dustin brings Max here. We don't have that kind of time."

Will paused, mentally calculating the route and then frowning, "Oh... shoot. Maybe I can take a taxi... hmm but it's almost school pickup, so they'll be a lot of traffic." Pondering in thought.

From the swivel chair behind the teacher's desk, Mike lounged upon it, ears perked as if unapologetically overhearing; he let out a small laugh, hands behind his head, "Are you guys always this dramatic?"

"Micheal." Will warned, knowing that usually, when Mike butt into a conversation, it was usually to make a comment or the situation worse.

"I can go for you, my bike is faster than the bus, and I don't mind a quick ride." He expressed with a little shrug.

Surprised, Will and Lucas exchanged a glance; Will almost recoiled, Mike was doing something selfless for once? No, there had to be some sort of ulterior motive.

"You'll actually do that?" Will hesitated, eyes narrowed and covered in suspicion.

"Well for a price," a laugh filled the room as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm not running a charity here."

Appearing desperate enough to actually consider it, Lucas's mouth opened, "How much do you want? I'll pay-"

"Lucas," Will cut in, holding up a hand, "No," he turned toward Mike, narrowing eyes, "I don't trust him at all, he'll probably hold the cake ransom even if you pay."

Faking offense, Mike put a hand to his chest. "How could you think I'd do such a thing?" voice fake and teasing,

"I speak from experience,"

Mike's grin refused to fade even after Will's jabs, rather he seemed to relish in them. He propped himself up, arms crossed as he walked over, voice edging with challenge, "Fine, since you don't trust me, then you can come with me."

"What?" Will was caught off-guard.

"You heard me." Mike rolled his eyes, "Since you're so sure I'll screw it up, then you can sit behind me and guard the cake yourself."

"Yeah. I'm not doing that."

"Why? Scared?"

Mouth opened, then closed. He hated the way Mike made sense sometimes; he was right in a way. No, Will wasn't scared of riding of a motorbike, it was the fact that Mike, helmetless will be at the helm.

"Don't worry, I have protection," laughing at the innuendo,

Will grit his teeth, "I'd rather walk."

"Shame." Mike faked a frown.

Before another word could be said, a soft voice chimed in, "I can go with you." El, who had been but a silent observer until now stepped forward. She'd been listening the whole time keeping herself busy as they talked, but her eyes kept landing on Will and Mike... and the way Mike barely acknowledged her presence; he didn't even say hi to her earlier.

Only a motionless wave.

"It will be faster with me instead. I can just hold the cake." Her tone casual, but eyes flicking between them, quietly hardened despite her care... she just wanted to spend time with her best friend.

With a mischievous grin, Mike turned with a shaking head, "Thanks El. But I wanna take Will."

Her brows lifted, finger tightening around the tape roll in her hand, "Why?"

"Because..." Mike simply admitted with a lazy gesture at Will, "he's the one who doesn't trust me. Seems fair he gets to be the one to watch me prove him wrong."

A few seconds past, El's smile clenched, not trying to show the way her genuine smile shifted, throat filling with a foreign bitterness. She forced composure, "okay, makes sense."

Will clicked his teeth, glancing between them, not noticing the hurt in El's tone, "I'm not going!"

"Please man." Lucas gave a nervous smile despite Will's protests; he knew if they continued talking, then they never get this cake.

Will groaned, rumbling his temples, but he understood the reason n for this overreaction, so with a resigned sigh and soft smile, he shook his head, "fine," Will muttered. "I'll go."

A bright flash of relief passed Lucas's features, exhaling like he'd been cast a lucky spin, "thanks! you're the best man," he then pointed at Mike, threating, "You. Don't do anything stupid."

That was scary, but it made Will giggle.

Mike refused to justify that with an immediate response, holding his hands up in a mocking surrender, "I would never,"

With that, Will gave a faint wave, taking Mike out the room, the door swinging behind them. He knew Mike wanted some sort of compensation, and Will feared what it may be.

EL POV –

For a moment, there was silence.

Lucas turned back to the half-decorated classroom, excitement bubbling with anxiety, filling his very core.

Standing by the food table with a half-blown balloon in hand, El tightened her grip around the neck of the balloon. Her eyes lingered on the door longer than necessary, then, without realising, she let go of the balloon, swaying in the air.

Eyes wide, Lucas jumped to attention, pausing at the fairy lights, not noticing the subtle tightness her jaw held of the way her nails now bit into her palm.

The silence grew heavier but not uncomfortable for Lucas who was too focused on the decorations being perfect. However, her mind was somewhere else entirely.

She could picture Will being hoisted on the back of Mike's bike, clinging to him as the wind whipped past them, just like they used to be. Although when she was younger, it was a bicycle she was on the back of.

"You okay?" Lucas's voice pulled her back to reality.

Only humming faintly, she didn't express another word, too lost in her own mind.

"Man, Mike came in clutch with this whole thing." Lucas filled the void, "I'm glad he took Will though, I would not trust him on his own." Chuckling at his own joke.

El nodded with a weak chuckle, going back to adjust a ribbon that didn't need fixing, motions slow and deliberate, but the silence lingered, and beneath her neutrality, the quiet only grew heavier.

She hated this.

---- ----

5002 Words

Stay Safe <3

Chapter Text

WILL POV –

Will analysed the item in Mike's hand.

He leaned against his bike, black and sleek even if a little scuffed. He held out the item out for Will to grab.

It glint in his eyes, the shine blinding him; Will's hands hovered uncertain, "You... have an extra helmet?"

Casually shrugging like it were no big deal, Mike rolled his eyes, "Yeah. I need a spare for myself anyways." He announced offhandedly, almost shoving it in Will's chest, "didn't think you'd be the first to wear it though."

Unimpressed, Will raised a brow, "What about your whole 'let her feel more valuable than you' plan?"

"Must you use everything I say against me?" Mike retorted with a question of his own, though the shock that Will was actually listening struck a cord.

Oddly, it made him feel special.

A quiet laugh escaped Will's lips as he accepted the helmet. It was clean like fresh out the box. There was something about the way Mike was offering that brought a smile to his lips, like he was almost fearful Will would refuse. Will shoved the thought away before he started seeing Mike in a new light.

"Wait." the sudden thought crossed his mind, "how much do you want in return for this ride?"

"Oh... what I want isn't money," Mike winked, "I'll tell you afterwards. I like to keep the suspense."

"I'm not leaving with you until you tell me!"

"Just put it on already." Mike complained, swinging a leg over the bike, "you're wasting daylight.... And you don't wanna be late... right?"

Growling like a feral cat, Will rolled his eyes but did as told, fumbling with the buckle before sliding it onto his head, clicking it on just as Mike had taught him weeks prior.

"Finally," Mike pat the seat behind him, "don't want my favourite boy cracking his skull open."

"I'm regretting this already." Will grumbled but nonetheless climbed on, clawing the edge of the seat beneath him.

Glancing over his shoulder, Mike gave a cheeky smirk, "You should hold on tight. I don't bite, y'know."

"Well, I do." Will scowled under the visor.

"You're so dramatic," Mike laughed louder and more genuine than usual as he kicked the bike into motion. Will stumbled slightly as the engine roared to life, his grip only tightening on the seat, refusing to give Mike the satisfaction.

Why did he even agree?

---- ----

Closed for lunch.

Will almost crashed out. This entire day was one ridiculous event after another.

The sign dangled mockingly by the door. Will pressed his head to the window, hands cupping either side, peaking in to see the perfect cake on the counter, frosted with delicate curls. It was just out of reach. A worker inside looked up from her display case as Will waved, mouthing anything to get her attention,

The worker shook her head, pointing to the sign, clear she wasn't going to answer the door.

"You've got to be kidding me!" he muttered, pressing his forehead to the glass dramatically, "I can see the cake."

Mike didn't leave his bike, removing his helmet to revel in Will's pain, almost like he wished to see it closer, "C'mon Byers, she's just following the rules." He teased, something he knew Will was sour about.

"You are not helping."

"I wasn't trying too."

Will grumbled, tapping against the window, like rhythmic raindrops, not letting go even as his fingers cramped at the motion.

The woman behind the counter relented, finally shifting as she unlocked the door only a crack, "Yes?" her smile something out of the customer service handbook.

"Hi! We talked on the phone that I could pick up the cake for Lucas Sinclair," attempting to push himself further through the ajar door, "we just need to grab it as promised."

"You spoke to my manager," The woman frowned, "I'm not authorised to give this cake to you..." she paused for a long second, "Please come back after lunch," her tone kind but with an undercurrent of annoyance.

"But it's right there!" Will protested, confidence giving way to an angered debate, "I can literally see it!"

"Rules are rules." She passed a look that could curdle milk, "I don't control them."

"It's my cake!" Will half mumbled, anger now a little sharper, "so let me get this straight. First you forget our order, then you refuse to deliver it, and now you won't give it to us?"

Watching from behind, Mike sighed, "Let me try," advancing with a firm hand on Will's shoulder, practically pushing him back toward the sidewalk, "you're gonna give her a reason to close the shutters,"

Totally undermined, Will glared, relenting as he retreated all the way back to the bike, enraged with how they conducted themselves; He was half-tempted to write a bad review.

He watched as Mike turned back to the woman, flashing that same kind of cheesy smile he usually did. His pearly whites gleamed like straight out a commercial. Will almost laughed; was he flirting with her? He was going to crash and burn.

She was almost twice his age.

Now interested, Will leaned closer from the bike to hear, but their words were hushed, almost like Mike wanted not to be heard.

It was clear that Mike explained something, with a tone that was charming, alluring, and somehow captivating, even without being able to distinguish a single word.

Then, just when Will thought Mike had completely lost the battle, he saw the woman giggle, a complete one-eighty from the way she spoke to Will; her stern expression faltered into something that seemed genuinely empathetic.

She had become flustered in less than a minute. Her crossed arms loosened and she now smiled, allowing him into the store, twirling her hair as she disappeared behind the counter to grab a bag for the cake box.

So much for 'closed for lunch'.

Will's mouth hung agape at the sight, feeling his jaw tighten. He didn't know what enraged him more, that Mike was flirting with someone twice his age... or that it was working.

By the time Mike sauntered with the cake balanced perfectly on one hand, the worker appeared to be smiling even more than before. Mike placed the box into Will's arms with a triumphant hum,

"I win." He grinned, taking his spot at the front of the bike.

"Whatever." Will clutched the cake tight. The box was too big that he couldn't rest it in between them for balance, and with the narrow seat, there was no other place inside. Mike adjusted the throttle, the bike jolted forward and Will was nearly thrown off.

Wordlessly, Mike glanced over his shoulder, reaching one arm back and grabbing Will's wrist to wrap it around his waist. It wasn't teasing or a joke, it was strangely personal.

"Hold the box steady," Mike commanded low.

Automatically nodding, Will focused on not dropping the cake or his dignity. He could feel the strength in Mike's stomach but didn't want to grab on too tight... scared how his touch was perceived.

The bike ride back was silent, screeching of the engine filled the air, steady and low, but Will wasn't really focused on any of that.

The air flushed coldly against his face.

He wasn't sure why his chest felt so heavy, perhaps it was the leftover awkwardness from earlier or the way the scene implanted into his mind; Mike leaning casually against the counter with a charming grin, confidently flirting his way to get what he wants.

Will thought about that for too long.

His eyes lowered to the cakebox, reflection visible on the plastic lid. It wasn't jealousy, no, not in that way, rather something else entirely he couldn't explain. It was an odd form of envy, like a quiet reminder that no matter how much Will wanted to, he could never flirt, laugh, and be seen as normal. He couldn't walk up to someone he liked without being coined a freak if they were the wrong person.

He'd never hope for someone to look at him in the same way; no one would ever notice him.

Nothing came until they reached the school, Mike stopping his bike just outside the front entrance, removing his helmet in one fluid motion, shaking his head to ruffle his hair, "not bad, you didn't drop the cake. I'm impressed."

Will rolled his eyes, "let's just go in." he already jumped off, making way to the doors, carrying the cake like an expensive bomb, eyes fixed forward, trying not to trip over his own feet.

Following close behind, Mike spoke out again, casual yet deliberate, "so... since I helped you guys, I think I deserve payment."

"I don't have money... ask Lucas."

"Hmm?" Mike hummed with a cheeky smile, "no... I think I want something else from you."

"From... me?" Will paused, turning round fully, a tad sarcastic, "You already tell me what to do."

"Yeah... but this one is different." His laughter seemed genuinely sadistic. But before Will could open his mouth to protest, Mike stepped past with the lazy confidence he always had, "be prepared," he announced, not looking back as he pushed his way into the building, not even bothering to leave the door open for him.

Gritting his teeth, Will couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling those words left in his chest, clutching the box tighter, careful not to dent the edges, not even complaining when the doors slammed in his face.

finally, they reached the classroom, seeing Lucas pacing in the room like an anxious parent waiting for news, practically jumping when he saw the cake, "You got it? You're a hero man!" rushing over with hands thrown up in relief.

Will giggled at Lucas's expression like Will saved his life, setting the cake down on the decorated table, finally exhaling, "barely. They almost didn't give it to us. And luckily..." he side-eyed, "someone helped me."

Mike had already wandered off to the far wall, fiddling with a balloon taped there, tugging one down and batting it lightly into the air, ignoring how it was neatly tied to the wall with care.

Too focused on how perfect the cake looked, Lucas barely noticed when Will walked off toward Mike, catching the balloon with a singular hand, taping it back to the wall with a little groan, "you are going to ruin everything before Max even gets here."

Mike rolled his eyes, passing a quiet groan, "There's nothing to do here,"

"You know you can leave... I mean you weren't even invited."

"Naa... I don't think I will." Mike crossed his arms, itching to grab another balloon off the wall.

"Don't you have vapes to sell?" 

If he wasn't going to sell them, then what did Will pack them for?

"I've already sold out; these freshmen are crazy for them."

Selling vapes to freshmen was something Will should have honestly expected from someone like Mike. It wasn't like he cared who smoked what, but he knew for a fact that Mike overcharged those tweens.

"of course you did." Will sighed, knowing that now Mike wouldn't leave, "fine, you can stay... but sit down and keep your hands to yourself."

"Or what?" Mike challenged.

Will glared in response, repeating himself, "You are in the way. Sit down."

For once, Mike felt shivers down his spine, hiding his emotions as he grabbed a chair from the side, casually taking a seat and resting his hands behind his head, "Fine, fine, I'll supervise you."

"You will be doing no such thing." Will corrected, dragging Mike and his chair into a corner, "if you want to be here, sit down, shut up and don't touch anything."

Mike stretched out in the chair despite being caught off-guard by the sudden strength Will exhibited, his grin was infuriatingly smug though, "You're cute when you boss me around, you know that?"

Ordinarily, Will would blush, but this was no time for jokes, instead he retort, "are you a masochist?"

Mike rested on his palm, merely watching but not daring to give an answer. Will huffed, turning away quickly, the words only now sinking in, muttering obscenities to himself as he went back to help Lucas get the placements 'just right'.

However, no matter how much he absorbed himself in the decorations, he could still feel those eyes on him, those teasing, yet strangely warm eyes.

And although Will would never admit it, a small part of him didn't mind it.

Not a single bit.

MIKE POV –

He slouched in his chair, leg bouncing up and down with an aura of nonchalance, pretending to be disinterested. His fingers tapped idly against the back of his head, and no number of decorations could pull his eyes from Will.

Will stood with Lucas, comforting him with tape in hand, reassuring his designs with short smiles and little giggles. His blazer was off; shirt sleeves rolled all the way up and hair tufts sticking up from the bike helmets.

Mike had half a mind to fix it.

Up at the front, Will was laughing, really laughing at something Lucas said. All he could see was the way his shoulders were relaxed, smile soft and genuine, posture open.

That smile was different from the ones Will gave him.

It was stranger than he'd thought. The ones Will gave him was always smaller, controlled and kept to a minimum even when sprouting sarcasm, like he was always waiting for the table to turn, keeping a distance. Yet with Lucas he seemed almost comfortable.

Jealousy: he told himself it wasn't, for that would be stupid. He barely liked Will. Sure, they hung out and he teased him, but that was a result of the blackmail; it wasn't like Will could leave even if he wanted to.

Except, the longer he watched, the tighter his jaw came. Lucas stressed over a banner and Will grabbed his hand to stop him, smiling again, eyes softer, warm and comforting.

Why did it bother him so much?

Deep down, he knew it didn't matter; it wasn't like he wanted Will to smile at only him; that would be truly ridiculous. Something twisted in his stomach, and no matter how funny his jokes were, Will never giggled like that.

And he was a pretty funny guy!

Mike hated the way it mattered.

Footsteps soft against the wooden floor, El quietly approached. Mike didn't even notice her at first, too caught up on watching Will absorbed in his own thoughts.

"Mike?" her voice cut through the void.

Snapping his head up a little too quickly, he forced himself to remain neutral, "Yo, what's up, El?"

"What are you thinking about? You are zoning out." She studied.

Caught off guard, Mike's mind scrambled for something to say, "Naa... I was just waiting. You know how boring this decorating shit is."

El didn't reply at first, eyes following Mike's line of sight, seeing Will now chuckling with pure delight, the type that drew people in, like a delicate flower without even trying.

"You and Will are close." She stated. It wasn't a question.

Laughing quietly, Mike shifted in his chair, almost slipping to the ground, "We just... run into each other a lot. He's surprisingly helpful, y'know?"

El's brows furrowed slightly, but kept her tone innocent and probing, "are you guys' best friends?"

Off guard, El's grin faltered before recovering, "I'm a grown man. I don't have best friends." He huffed a chuckle.

He said it so easily, but something behind those words sounded wrong to her; was he lying?

Polite and kind, El's smile never reached her eyes, "Right, of course."

"Well, duh." Mike nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, grinning like the conversation was over. Because to him, he thought it was.

EL POV -

Her head turned.

When they were younger, he would've instantly replied with her name, but Mike didn't talk to her like they used to; they didn't hang out between classes, nor send dumb messages whenever they could. In fact, it took him a few days to respond to her texts despite always being on his phone.

She could tell he was texting another...

Will.

Chest aching at the notion, she tried to shake the thought, wanting to be happy for her friends becoming friends... but why did it hurt so much?

Why was she losing again?

It wasn't fair.

"Okay everyone!" Lucas's voice broke through the tension like a burst of flames, "Max is on her way!"

He clapped his hands loudly, grinning ear to ear, pointing across the room like a general rallying troop. He directed everyone to make sure they stood where instructed; he even pointed to Mike for help.

Echoes of her conversation were now a mere whisper as she followed instructions, switching off the lights. Lucas's infectious energy was contagious, and almost ridiculously, it appeared to work on her.

"You are whipped," Will teased his friends so casually as fairy lights twinkled in his eyes. For those fleeting moments, it was like her thoughts dissolved into the aether; the scene before her akin to something out a story book; streamers, balloons, cupcakes and large luminescent banners with big 'sorry Max's hung above the bored.

Right now, she was here for friends. Friends Will introduced her too; he wasn't the enemy.

Regardless, she took cover behind a desk, crouching in the dark of the classroom. Everyone was silent, barely breathing as Lucas shushed with a finger over his lips.

Dustin's muffled voice was finally heard from outside as though alerting them of their position. With a click, he shoved the door open, bubbling a dramatic, "After you."

"Since when did you become a gentleman?" Max chuckled into the dark room, "and why are the curtains closed?" disgruntled, she shook her head visible in the little light pouring through the doors.

With that, her hand trailed the wall, searching for the light switch. When she finally flicked it upwards, the crouching leapt to their feet, popping confetti instantaneously,

"Happy anniversary!" they all shouted in unison.

Mid step, Max froze, hand paused on the light switch, mouth hung agape at the sight. Her gaze dart across the room; balloons, banners, snacks, and a massive cake glowing like a marble statue.

Then, Lucas slid into scene, internally freaking out.

Dustin leaned on the doorframe, wheezing from how hard he had to keep that secret to himself, "he planned the whole thing himself, romantic, huh?" he winked, gesturing forward,

"Happy anniversary Max." Lucas's voice was softer, quieter and more earnest, like they were the only two in the room.

"You remembered." Her agape mouth transforming to a soft smile, eyes dulled in warmth; technically, Lucas was a week late, but when he was this nervous, she couldn't really correct him.

Lucas immediately lit up from the validation, relief evident, "So I'm forgiven?" he nervously stepped forward like a bad kitten approaching their owner after scratching the couch.

"You're on probation," she crossed her arms sarcastic, but deep down they knew what she meant; he was forgiven.

In his excitement, he jumped toward her, practically knocking Max off balance, hugging her tight like finally finding the light he was searching for forever. She pat his back with a small smile, communicating in their own language as she kissed his cheek.

Lost in the moment, El found herself smiling, but when she turned her head to see Mike, she noted something strange.

He wasn't looking at Max or Lucas.

His gaze was undeniably elsewhere, lingering on the one who she was currently comparing herself to...

Will.

He was standing beside Dustin, stopping him from skimming the frosting off the top of the cake, swatting his hands away whenever possible. His face glew against the warmth of fairy lights, filled with sincerity and joy.

And it appeared Mike was the most fixated by it.

---- ----

3467 Words

Stay Safe <3