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The air in the room was heavy. Suffocating, unbearable. Even breathing felt difficult. Will could hear the rain outside, the crack of thunder, the howl of the wind. He wanted fresh air. If throwing himself into the storm meant breathing a little easier, he would walk out without a second thought.
It had been years. At first, he thought he’d get used to it. That with time it would get easier, become routine, and stop exhausting him. But instead, it grew. It grew until he couldn’t control it. And now it was crushing him. Every moment spent near Mike only heightened that impossible euphoria pulsing inside him.
It used to be easier, back when Mike was in a relationship and when he was unreachable, when it was impossible for Will, when his mind wasn’t this much of a mess. It didn’t feel that way anymore. It had been a long time since the breakup. They were broken up on good terms and they were still good friends to each other. Everything was calm, everyone was happy exactly where they were. There were no resentments.
But now Will had hope. And that made everything far more complicated. He was terrified of misreading things. Terrified of disappointment, of losing his closest friend. Even when he wanted to take a step forward, he scared himself out of it, reminding himself of all the heartbreak he could invite. And after every moment that felt too good, he returned to his room carrying a heavy weight on his chest.
Thinking about these things had become routine—turning these suffocating possibilities over and over in his head every day. But the breathlessness… he hadn’t expected it to become this overwhelming. He left without even taking a jacket. He wanted to feel the cold. He wanted to feel something different.
He walked through the streets calmly, in contrast to the chaos in his mind. He found an old bench and sat down. The streets were empty. The rain grew heavier. His T-shirt clung to him, drenched. He was shivering from the cold, but he didn’t care. This place was good. Quiet. Every raindrop falling on his face helped clear his mind. How nice it is to breathe, he thought. How ironic that this gloomy weather makes me feel lighter. He thought of how he’d probably get sick. And then the image flickered in his mind—Mike sitting beside him, taking care of him. It wasn’t even a fantasy; it was more like recalling a memory.
He let out a deep breath, buried his face in his hands, and swallowed hard. He could already feel the tears forming. Every path in his mind led back to him. He closed his eyes. If only I had a magic wand, he thought, and could end all this torment in an instant. If only things weren’t so uncertain. If only I wasn’t so afraid to take a step.
If they were in a romantic comedy, Will would stand up, walk through the downpour to Mike’s house, call him downstairs, and make the sweetest confession in the world. But they weren’t.
Realizing he was soaked enough, he stood up. He laughed at himself—clearly there was no escaping these feelings. No matter where he went, who he was with, or what he did, his mind would always circle back to Mike.
When he returned home, the house was empty. His brother and mother were out for the night. But it was cold—colder than when he’d left. He looked at the floor. Wet footprints. He didn’t understand why. As he walked toward his room, he heard the faint sound of wind, too close. He must have left the window open.
He opened the door.
It was Mike. Sitting on his bed, hair and clothes drenched. Will looked at the window—rainwater had dripped all the way from the sill to the bed. When Mike saw him, his face softened with relief. He stood up and spoke with frustration.
“Where were you?” He looked anxious. He was. He hated being away from Will even for a single second.
Will giggled. “I went out for some air.”
That seemed to irritate Mike even more. His brows furrowed. “In this weather? Have you lost your mind?”
“Kinda, yes.” Will said under his breath.
“What?”
“You’re calling me crazy but look at yourself—you look just as insane.”
Mike looked down at himself. He had left the house without thinking twice. He just needed to see Will. He didn’t have news to share or a story to tell or an interesting idea. It was only Will—only the thought of Will—that filled his mind. He didn’t think of anything except getting to him as quickly as possible. When he arrived, no one had opened the door; it was locked. Will hadn’t said he had plans tonight. Mike called his name in the rain over and over, but there was no answer. He didn’t think twice anymore when it came to Will. He slipped through the window. searched the whole house but couldn’t find him. He felt like he was going mad. He told himself Will would return eventually and sat waiting. He thought it wouldn’t take long. But two hours passed. And when Will finally opened the door, whole and safe, Mike felt like the most relieved human alive. Every fear dissolved. Seeing his face banished every shadow inside him.
“I just wanted to see you.” Will remained in the doorway, eyebrows raised.
“Why?”
Mike sat back down on the bed. He felt small in front of Will, staring at his hands, playing with his fingers. “No reason particularly… I just wanted to.”
Will didn’t understand and laughed. “Okay, but you could’ve waited until the storm calmed down. Jumping into this weather just because you wanted to see me sounds a little crazy.”
“It’s not. Because it’s you.”
Mike had gone too far. He felt it the moment the words left his mouth. Too forward. Too risky. He didn’t want to scare Will. He didn’t want to say something wrong. Fearfully, he lifted his head. Will was staring at him, frozen, eyes glistening.
Mike stood up instantly. He wanted to punch himself. Nothing felt worse than upsetting Will.
“Hey, hey—” he reached out and wiped a tear with his finger. He could feel the tension in Will’s body beneath his touch. Was touching him a mistake? He couldn’t tell. He wished desperately for his ability to think logically to return. Will looked up and met his gaze while Mike’s finger was still brushing away the tears. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away. The moment was heavy. Guilt was closing in on him. He felt like he needed to explain.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”
Will sniffed. “I’m tired, Mike.” His voice cracked. “I really am.”
Mike’s hand was on his cheek, caressing gently. “You can lean on me. I’ll always be here.”
The words twisted something inside Will. He leaned into Mike’s palm, eyes closing. How vulnerable he looked—how fragile, how human. Mike wanted to protect him from the entire world.
“Don’t cry. I hate seeing you like this.” He cupped Will’s face with both hands, lifting it so their eyes met. They were close—Mike could feel Will’s breath on his.
“Talk to me.”
Will’s head was spinning. He prayed he wasn’t misreading this moment. This closeness, these words… they felt like something more than friendship. So he chose honesty. He leaned in, just a little— just enough.
“I’m tired of always debating whether I read things wrong, whether it’s all just in my head. I’m so scared of getting my heart broken. I’m so scared that the person I’m meant to be with is not…”
Mike looked at him like every word falling from Will’s lips was the most important thing in the world. His breaths came uneven and fast.
“What?” he asked, impatient.
“You.”
Time stopped. The world held its breath. Mike felt tears threatening. Will stepped closer, placing his hands over Mike’s, looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered. He was.
“I love you,” Will whispered, eyes falling. “I’m sorry.”
What happened next wasn’t even on Will’s list of possibilities for the night. Mike leaned in and captured his lips.
It was unexpected—something Will had only ever imagined. The kiss was hesitant, vulnerable. Mike moved his lips softly against his, and that jolted Will back to himself. He slid his hands up and wrapped them around Mike’s neck, kissing him back. His heart pounded so hard he worried Mike could hear it, but it hardly mattered because he could feel Mike was just as excited and nervous from his shaky breaths escaping between kisses.
It was the best feeling Will had ever known, it felt vital, like breathing fresh air.
But then Mike broke the kiss. Looked into his eyes, smiling faintly.
“Just so you know,” he murmured. “I love you too. Possibly more.”
Then, he slowly leaned in to press a soft kiss to Will’s forehead before returning to his lips. And in that moment, the only thing that existed in the world was Will—keeping him safe, holding him close, never letting him go. Loving him right. Just like he deserved.