Work Text:
The Fourth of July is going absolutely feral. Kids screaming, fireworks warming up in the distance, and hyper adults spread throughout the park.
And of course...someone (Dustin. Let's blame Dustin.) shoves Mike and Will into the ferris wheel line with a suspiciously innocent, "Oh no! There only two seats left...guess you guys have to go alone!" He sprints off before they can even argue.
Now Mike and Will are standing there awkwardly like two prepubescent teens who have no idea how to proceed.
When they sit down, the metal bar clicks into place and..oh no. Their knees touch. Just a little. But enough to make both their souls commit tiny cartwheels.
The wheel starts rising.
Will looks out at the carnival lights, all soft and distracted, while Mike is internally fighting demons in his head.
The brunet is hit with a glow in his face in that unfair, illegally-beautiful way.
Mike sees it. Because of course he does.
He internally short-circuits like the idiot he is.
Halfway up, the wheel jolts to a stop. They're dangling in the sky, fireworks reflecting in their eyes, hearts pounding as they seem to almost fall out their chests.
And in the moment of chaos, Will whispers, barely audible, "Everything feels...different this summer."
Mike is caught off guard. "How so?"
Will swallows, hugging his arms. "Like everyone's growing up. Moving on. And i'm just..." He shrugs, "still me."
Mike turns, breath sharp with the softest eyes Will's definitely used to. "Hey, Will, don't say that. You're-" He stops. Because his heart is about to burst out of his chest and pop like a balloon if he keeps staring at Will's dusted pink cheeks and scarlet lips.
Will, stupidly hopeful says, "I'm what?"
Mike panics. He malfunctions. The only words coming out his mouth are, "You're important! Like—more important than most people. To me, I mean. I just. I don't want things to change. Not with you."
Will's eyes go all shiny, glossy with held back (happy) tears.
Softly, dangerously softly, "I don't want things to change with you either."
And then the wheels on the move again, jolting them closer than ever, knees bumping ever so slightly, shoulders brushed with intent.
Down below, there's cries of pure gratefulness. People glad to not be stuck on the ferris wheel for much longer.
Eventually, Mike and Will's stop is up. They carefully get off the ride one by one.
They don't talk about what happened up there, they don't need to.
All that needed to be said was said through few words and full emotions.
Mike and Will know they have a lot to work through, and that's okay.
If it's them, then they can get through it, no matter the wait.