Archive of Our Own

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul - Bram Stoker's Dracula

—

It all started because Will couldn’t get comfortable. Living with the Wheeler’s for a year would sound delightful for him a decade ago. But today he was stressed and he needed to get out of the house’s crowded air.

He started planning before dinner. Everybody was mumbling something about how the food was great, and that Karen was an amazing cook. Will, of course, agreed politely, and he was not lying, Karen is absolutely good at this. 

Earlier that day, they were at Hop’s cabin, discussing a plan to find out more about what the government was doing at the upside down. Apparently, a base was built there, almost as if the place wasn’t dangerous at all. It frustrated Will a little — how they were capable of handling the horrors with all the weapons, big machines and right devices, when he was left there to die alone.

He got a bit annoyed. He was there first, before anyone else, yet nobody let him help. He’s not a child anymore, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he went outside, he wouldn’t be alone again. And still, they were too worried about him, especially his mom. The topic was so recurring that he gave up too early and decided not to bother anyone. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking about it until now.

“Will, are you okay?” Mike asks softly, making sure to not drag attention to them. Mike, the boy who reassured him that they were a team again, best friends — and still — there was something missing, a piece that didn’t quite fit there. Could it be Will’s feelings messing up their friendship? Could it be the way Will, sometimes, stared at Mike for too long? Or the way Will hoped Mike felt the same whenever he stared back at him?

“Will?” Mike repeated himself, slightly nudging him. He was by his side, like he always was at the table. 

“Sure,” he responded, redirecting his attention to the unfinished roast chicken on his plate, still feeling a pair of eyes in his direction. 

—

Everybody was heading upstairs, except for Karen, who was cleaning the kitchen, and Jonathan, who was going to the basement, where they’ve been sleeping. Will knows it isn’t the whole truth, since his brother constantly sneaks into Nancy’s room to spend the night. He wanted to be sure that Will wouldn’t feel alone, but he didn’t want to bother him, so he lied initially and told him it’d be okay. Now, he doesn’t really mind as much; he got used to it.

He pretends to follow Jonathan for a second, but decides to go out through the front door, once he doesn’t see anybody else. He stops outside the house and leans against the brick wall, taking a small moment to breathe the fresh, quiet air. He then searches for the backpack he left among the bushes. It carries the essentials: a flashlight, a walkie (for precaution), his sketchbook and some pencils. He just wants to get out of the world for a second.

Once he’s started his pace, a creak could be heard from the door and somebody comes out to spot him. “Will, what are you doing here? Where are you going?” Mike asks, when he looks at the boy with a backpack. 

“I just wanted to take a walk, it’s been a long day, you know.”

“Are you crazy? Does somebody else know about this?”

“Mike, that’s the whole point. I don’t want anyone worrying about me right now, and nothing has happened for a long time, so it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. You can’t be too careful. If you won’t warn anyone, let me at least go with you.”

Will sighs. He can’t believe this. Mike is one of the reasons he needs to take a break. Of course, he could be doing that at the comfort of his mattress, but what is the point when he is surrounded by Mike’s basement full of Mike’s stuff? He is stressed.

“I’m tired of everyone babying me, okay? I can’t help, I can’t be useful, so just leave me alone for a while, it won’t make a difference, anyway.”

“You know I can’t do that. And I’m not babying you, I’m just being careful,” He looks at him with his big brown pleading-like eyes. Will knows that if he says “no”, he will be coming anyways, and he’s not a strong man, so his only answer is

“Sure, whatever,” he says while he grabs the flashlights and rolls his eyes.

Will hears Mike following behind. This is not what he expected and he does not have a good feeling about where this is going.

A few moments pass, “I didn’t find you in the basement, I was actually worried something happened.”

“I’m fine, I just needed to… be alone for a bit,” he says as Mike catches up his pace and is now walking by his side.

“Yeah… Sorry about that… Um, so I actually wanted to make sure you were okay, ‘cause you seemed quieter the entire dinner. You can talk to me. If you want, I mean”

Will looks at him, and then he looks back. They are already a bit far from Mike’s house. “I was just thinking about earlier. Don’t you think it’s kinda messed up how they built an entire base at the upside down? I mean, how many people had to die to do this?”

“Yeah… It doesn’t even seem this scary anymore, but maybe that’s good, if we ever have to go back,” Mike has never been there, but the possibility of it is growing more realistic every day. He hopes Mike never gets the opportunity of being there.

“I think the adults wouldn’t want us hanging out there," he lets a small laugh out and is relieved when Mike does the same.

Will stops when he sees a reddish light coming from the ground a bit further from where they are.

“Hey, Mike, isn’t the closest gate in, like, Lover’s Lake?”

Mike stops too, searching for something on his face, confused, “Yeah, the Watergate, why?”

Will is curious. The fear doesn’t even hits him until he’s faster on his feet, coming to face a small opening on earth. He turns to look at Mike, who is right beside him.

“Dude, how is this even possible? We need to call the others. Do you have your walkie?” 

“Yeah, wait a sec,” he says as he kneels down and grabs his backpack. It’s easy to find the device. “Here,” he says quickly, and as soon as he handles it to Mike, he feels something tickling his heels. Maybe it’s an animal. He tilts his head. 

No. 

It’s coming from the gate. 

“MIK-,” and the vine drags him directly to the bright wound. He thinks he heard Mike screaming his name, but before he can process it, he is feeling cold. And it’s dark. He can’t believe he is there again. He tries to fight it and twitches his body. He is afraid. He takes advantage of having one foot free and kicks the vine as much as he can until he’s set free.

“WILL!” He hears Mike from behind, running up to him. Oh no, he can’t believe he dragged him here.

“Will! Oh my God, are you okay? Are you hurt?!” He says as he grabs Will by his arms, helping him up. He has the flashlight that Will dropped at some point and it illuminates the ground. It’s full of vines. It’s scary and gross.

“I’m fine, I’m right here,” he is a little desperate, he’s panting.

Mike looks at him, searching for any signs of bruising. He is worried and grabs Will. “Come on, the gate is still open, we can get out of here-” 

He said it too soon. They look at the gate, it’s full of demobats. They are guarding it. “Shit,” Will thinks it and Mike says it.

“What do we do now?” Will pants.

“I think we can hide behind those cars,” and he points to a line of abandoned vehicles. He grabs Will by his forearm and they run. It’s too sad that the demobats notice and they are flying just above them.

It starts to form a cloud of the animals, too close to the boys, enough to corner them. Will grabs some part of something that lays on the ground. It looks like a piece of metal, so it’s useful. He is ready to attack, but so are the flying beings. But they don’t come for both the boys, they come for Will, and only him, so Mike does his best to defend the other using the flashlight as a weapon.

They are so quick in his direction. He feels them slightly scratching his skin. It’s actually not as hurtful as he thought it would be. But then he feels it. A pair of sharp, long teeth perforating his skin, right below his neck. It hurts. It hurts like hell, so he whines. Another demobat bites him on the abdomen, and another one just on his lowest ribs. 

“Fuck, get off me,” he cries and squirms, and the creatures actually get off of him. What? It’s just as if someone called them.

Will falls on the ground in pain and Mike is quick to grab him. “Shit, Will, come on, lets get out of here, can you do this?”

Will is suffering, but he’s not dying. He can do this, it just hurts, so he nods to the other boy.

“Okay, let’s go,” and so, he grabs Will’s arm and they are quick to get out from the same gate they came from. It’s closing, but they get there before it’s too small. 

—

As soon as they are out, Will tries to steal one more glance of the gate, which is closing so fast, like nothing ever happened. Any sign of it disappears completely once they are half of their way to Mike's residence. They slow down their pace, at the same rhythm the threat decreases.

They quietly open the basement door. He turns the light on and no one is there. Will is glad for that. Jonathan would probably call for their mom, and soon enough everyone would be there asking a million questions. Will wouldn’t bear to feel more stupid than he already does.

Mike sits them both on the couch. “Okay, we’ve made it,” he’s a little out of breath, “we made it”. He looks at Will and smiles. It’s so warm that he almost forgets the squeezing pain all over his torso. He smiles back, but it doesn’t stop the stings, so he lets out a sharp hiss as his body tenses up.

“Shit, Will, are you okay? Where did they hurt you?” Mike gets his hands on Will’s shoulders. He is searching up for bruises and he immediately spots thumb-sized dark red stains bleeding out of his shirt. It doesn’t look the same as it feels, so he thinks it’s not that bad.

“It’s not that bad, Mike,” he says with half-open eyelids, looking down at the boy who’s analyzing him closely.

“Fuck, Will, you are bleeding, let me help you,” and he stands up so quickly, Will can hardly follow. He comes back with the first aid kit the Wheeler’s have always kept in there. He has his eyebrows furrowed, from worry at first, but replaced by a second, mysterious something for a moment. “Hey, would you– would you lift your shirt up for me, please?”, he asks too politely, too quietly.

Will can’t deny the redirection of the blood, now rushing to his face, but he does exactly what the boy asked him to do and reveals 2 stings on opposite vertical extremities of his stomach. Mike stares at him, worry mixed with horror, but he’s so careful it makes Will want to cry.

He grabs some gauze and starts cleaning gently, while he uses his other hand to hold him by the waist, so he doesn’t move. Will is too aware of how he breathes now. How his chest moves, afraid of being perceived. He wonders if he’s judging him. Is he grossed out by his blood in the way he should be?

“Hey, it’s actually not bleeding that much, it will heal fast,” he attempts to make the situation lighter, and Will thinks it’s too sweet of him, more than he deserves. After cleaning it, he grabs some antiseptic to disinfect it. “This should sting a little”. And it does, so Will hisses almost inaudible. He is embarrassed. Mike probably heard him, acting like a baby.

Mike is finishing with the bandages, when Will decides to speak again

“I think there was another–,” he hisses, “one by my neck…” Mike quickly drags his eyes to the boy’s, and then to his neck just a second later. He has to pull the shirt’s collar with his left hand a bit down to see the last sting. The pair of sharp teeth accusing the demobats.

Mike seems a little fascinated by it, and gently brushes his right thumb on the injury. It hurts and he whines, but Will is hypnotized by the way his best friend is looking at him. So curious. He is so close to him. He can’t stand it, so he tries to say something.

“Don’t you think it’s kinda weird how they just showed up to do this and then got away?” But he can’t look away from the boy he’s been in love with since he was a kid, when he’s taking care of him like this, making his eyes dance over his neck like this.

Mike looks up and they lock eyes, their faces merely inches apart. Will now thinks he actually bled too much and his brain is tricking him when Mike’s stare drops to somewhere below his nose. “What..?” He sounds a bit absentminded, but finally looks into his eyes again.

Will gulps. “I mean, when Steve went there, those monsters almost ate him alive, and… You know, with Eddie…”

Mike lets whatever he was on go and focuses on taking care of the bat’s stings again. “Uh, yeah, you’re right. It’s weird. Super weird.” He pauses, hesitates a bit, “Do you think Vecna sent them…?”

“We can’t really know how much stronger he got, but, sure, it’s likely him,” he furrows his brows and takes a few moments, “please… don’t tell the others about this.”

“Of course, Will. I won’t,” and now he knows he got his friend disappointed. He should’ve let him tell them, but what difference would it make? They’re already monitoring everything all the time. It won’t be long enough until he gives some life signal again and opens some other gate. Bleeds into their world.

“Thanks, Mike,” he says awkwardly, looking down with guilt. The taller boy has his left hand still pushing down his collar and the other pressing the gauze a little on the wound. He lets his shirt go to grab the antiseptic again and looks up to Will, searching for any painful reactions.

When he finishes with the bandage, completely this time, he rests his hands there for a brief moment, carefully brushing his fingers around it. He then moves his touch from the hazel eyed boy’s neck to his shoulder, tenderly squeezing it. Will follows every movement with his eyes, shyly. 

“It’s done,” he softly grins, squeezing Will’s shoulder one more time. He is so caught up by the moment that he almost misses a hidden scratch on Mike’s forearm. His shirt is dark, it’s so hard to notice. But he’s an artist; he can see the difference between black and slightly reddish black.

“Mike, your arm,” he instinctively brings his right hand to touch the other’s arm, who quickly reacts and pulls his arm away.

“Hey, let me see it,” he forcefully grabs his wrist. “No, Will, I’m fine”. Mike tries to set his limb free, but it’s useless, because he already raised his sleeves up and saw a big cut still bleeding. 

“Shit, Mike, why didn’t you say anything, this looks deep as hell!”

“I wanted to take care of you first,” and he’s looking at Will again with his beautiful brown eyes. “I can handle this myself, see?” And he is cleaning and disinfecting the wound by himself. He does everything perfectly fine, proving his point, until he has to use the gauze tape with only one hand. He struggles and Will starts laughing at the sight.

“What?” Mike looks at him fondly, “why are you laughing at me?”

“Here, let me help” and he grabs his wrist again, tenderly this time. Mike’s right hand now rests above the other’s left palm, his arm lying on Will’s thigh when he needs support. They both get shy, but Will immediately starts to wrap the tape around his arm with his right hand. “It will leave a sick scar.”

“Yeah,” Mike chuckles, too lost in his own mind at the moment. He looks a bit red, maybe he’s embarrassed. Will has this effect on him? No, he’s probably hallucinating.

“Um, maybe we should get changed, it’ll be suspicious to have blood stains all over our clothes,” he suggests as he finishes the dressing. He relaxes but doesn’t let him go, and Mike doesn’t retract himself either, so they stay there, his arm lying on his leg, palm holding back of the hand.

He wishes they could stay like that forever. Taking care of each other. Will doesn’t remember the last time they were like this. Maybe when they were kids, and one of them fell while playing. They would use band-aids to heal everything, but why does it have to be so complicated now? 

A moment passes and Will slightly caresses Mike’s hand, brushing his thumb on the other’s pale palm. They don’t dare to look at each other. 

The taller boy is the first to break contact. “Yeah, I mean, yes. I’ll go to my room now, so–”

“Yes, I have to… do stuff too, yeah, I’m gonna change. Too.”

And so he leaves. Again. 

Will messed this up. Again.

— 

For the next few days, Will starts to get sick.

His mom is insanely preoccupied with her boy. It feels like every hour she gets down to the basement to check on him, if she’s not already there for hours straight. His temperature won’t stop rising. He’s nauseous and pale. She talks about the bags under his eyes and how weak he looks.

Jonathan won’t leave his side either. He’s always been so protective over his little brother. He does everything he’s capable of to help. He will bring the soup Karen is so kindly making, change the hot cloths that rest on his forehead, assist him with baths, food, and make sure he’s drinking enough water.

And Mike… He’s no different to worrying. He watches everyone taking care of him and he tries to help. He’ll be the one doing it when the others aren’t able to. And that’s why his family trusts him to watch over Will, his mom, more precisely, during their mission. 

Both boys were excluded from getting involved in any way. The group was checking on small new gates that seemed to open spontaneously. See? Will is not named Will for nothing.

His mom and brother never looked so worried to leave Will there. But he wasn’t alone. Joyce knew Mike for long enough to know he’d do anything to protect her son, and to stay by his side, which was proved after everything they went through when the mindflyer possessed him. So, in this way, he fulfilled his task, and did not leave him.

—

He was awakened by the creaking sound of the wood stairs. For how long was he sleeping? It was already dark and Mike was with a bowl of chicken soup and a glass of water. He was getting sick of eating the same, but he was too polite to say anything to Mrs. Wheeler. Afterall, she’s been so receptive and helpful to him and his family.

“Hey, so, are you feeling any better?” Mike placed the hot dish on the table and sat on the nearest chair to the other boy. He was a bit awkward, wavering. Oh no, is Will a dead weight to deal with? Being insecure wouldn’t help his situation, so he is honest.

“Actually, no. I don't know what happened, we’ve been stuck in the same places and the weather is okay.”

“Do you think these bats had, like, rabies?” He handles the glass to Will and he can’t say if he’s joking or not. But he has a serious face, so Will thinks maybe he’s a bit stupid.

“No, Mike, I don’t think so. I wouldn’t be able to drink water, like, at all,” he chuckled a bit.

“I don’t know! What am I supposed to think?!” He raises his arms in surrender, “you get bit by these animals and you’re suddenly all sick.”

“Sure, it is a pretty valid argument, sorry,” but he still has a stupid grin on his face and he doesn’t try to hide it from Mike, who is currently watching him take a big gulp of water.

Mike is astonished. “How dare you, Will!” But he surely was finding this situation very funny too, because he dramatically puts a hand on his chest and makes his best HURT outraged face. Will laughs, even if he’s debilitated on some level, so he weakly kicks Mike’s leg. And they are both chuckling. Will’s heart feels warm and light for the first time since he got sick. He’s glad his best friend is by his side.

—

When the moon rises further, Will wakes up, even if he doesn’t remember falling asleep again. He looks around and he sees Mike, sleeping on his mattress next to the couch. He feels better, so he tries to stand up–

What? 

He tries again but he can’t. What is wrong with him? 

He tries to move his legs. Nothing. Maybe lifting a finger will work. But it doesn’t. What is happening? Did he really get rabies? He tries to call for Mike, but nothing comes out of his throat. His mouth doesn’t open. He was feeling so much, yet he can’t express it. It’s like he was trapped inside his own body. He tried to cry, but he couldn’t. Is he even breathing? Does his heart beat? Can he really see what’s around him? Is Mike really there? 

He is agonizing. He is desperate. Is he dead? Where is he? 

But a sharp feeling of tiredness hits him. He needs to sleep, you need to rest. He (?) thinks. So he tries to sleep, hoping he will wake up better. It could be a sleep paralysis episode, he’s read about this, so why not? In the end, maybe there was nothing to worry about. He just needs to energize up. Yeah, that’s all. 

—

When he wakes up, it's still night. Didn’t he just wake up right now? He looks around and sees Mike again, only this time he’s awake too, looking at his direction. This is so confusing. Maybe his sickness is messing with his head. Was that a dream? It didn’t feel like a dream nor a nightmare. Just a memory. Dejá vù, maybe? But– it wasn’t like this…

“Will! Are you ok?” Mike was talking to him. A strong smell hits his nose. Is Karen making dinner again? Did he hallucinate it too? Only this time, it didn’t smell like the chicken soup he was tired of. It smelled delicious. His appetite is back and he’s feeling better. Maybe Holly got the flu from some classmate and he got it from her. Nothing deadly.

“Will!? Talk to me,” Mike calls for him again. This time, shaking his shoulder a little bit.

“What!? What is it?” He responds a bit harsher than he intended. 

Mike looks a bit confused and perplexed. Was there anything on his face? Maybe he’s just not as pale as he was, maybe his colour is better. “Geez, calm down, I just wanted to check on you, you slept for a long time.”

Now, Will was the one confused. “And you look paler. How is that even possible, how do you feel?”

Well, that’s sad. “I don’t know, I think so. But I’m starving. Is your mom cooking something?”

Mike chuckles a bit, “Cooking? Absolutely not, Will,” but he says it in such a calm way, the soft voice he was used to. “It’s like 3 in the morning. You slept so deeply we were considering taking you to the hospital next morning; or later today, in this case.”

Did Mike stay up because of Will? He was slowly coming to terms with his reality. Actual reality. “Everybody?” was the first question he could get out of his head. Hopefully, it meant everybody was safe; his family and his friends.

“Yeah, your mom came down here to kiss you good night. She and your brother talked to you for a bit before heading upstairs,” he quickly changes his expression, a noticeable frown. “Also, did you know Jonathan was sneaking into Nance’s room? Dude, I think it was this whole time and–”

Mike continues to ramble about things he realized all by himself while the boy was off. But Will started zoning out; something was not right. His mind was… Not there. He couldn’t think about anything else, just how hungry that scent was making him. He needed to eat. It was getting insufferable, he thinks he may die if he doesn’t find out where this delightsome smell comes from. His head is starting to pound, his eyes hurting by the sight of the bright light of the room. Suddenly he is too sensitive to everything surrounding him.

It’s weird. He never felt that before. Something about it was quite familiar. Was this how he felt when he was in the upside down for a week? He can’t really remember. But suddenly there were shivers being sent down his spine when Mike nudged him with his right arm. The smell was stronger, overwhelming.

“Will, did you even listen to anything I said?” he protested, slightly annoyed. But his attitude changed rapidly, “Are you okay…? You’re acting so weird,” he paused, “you said you were hungry, right? I could bring the leftovers from dinner,” Mike tries, solicitous this time. He was already getting on his feet when Will grabbed his left wrist. His skin was beautiful, glowing.

Will was probably freaking out on the outside too, given Mike’s concerned expression. “Can I go with you?” he asked, a bit too desperately. He doesn’t know what to do right now.

“Sure, I guess,” was he suspicious about Will? What was he thinking? But they headed upstairs and were now facing the open fridge. “You can just pick whatever you want,” he whispered and immediately took a step back, making more space for him.

Will wasn’t really happy with the display, until he saw an entire pack of grounded beef on the last shelf. It wasn’t the meat that fascinated him. It was the bowl the bag was on. It was full with a bright red liquid that dripped from the food and it would certainly be wasted. How can someone discard this fragrant part of the meal? He was never really lured to the living red juice, but tonight it just felt right.

Mike observed the boy as he took the big bowl out of the lowest part of the fridge. He was just so hungry he couldn’t resist. So he gave up on his politeness just for a moment. He put his lips on the edge of the dish, and as soon as the blood touched them, he couldn’t stop drinking. He was just pure instinct right now. 

He wasn’t hungry, he was starving, thirsty. So fucking thirsty. And just like this, there was nothing but beef on the recipient. It was good. Not perfect, but good. He felt like an animal. Maybe like a lion… Except for the fact he didn’t really kill it, so he would be more like a hyena.

He finally dragged his eyes at Mike, who was watching him with a puzzled expression. It almost looked like he wasn’t breathing. Until he inhaled too much air at once. He couldn’t exactly describe what he looked like. He was not disgusted… He was fascinated. So he stared back at him and cleaned the thin line of blood still dripping from his mouth, “What? Why are you looking at me like this?”

“You just gulped, like, an entire bowl of cow’s blood– you’re like Dracula,” he was trying to whisper, but he was too excited, so it was loud. Will immediately shushed him and they went back to the basement. Mike followed him, still rambling about it, breathing out rapid and thrilled comments, while he kept stumbling over his words.

The door is closed behind them. “Will, I swear, believe in me, you are just like a vampire.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mike. This stuff doesn’t even exist in real life.” He rolls his eyes and still doesn’t know how to react to all this sudden change.

“Well, wasn’t that exactly what we thought about the upside down and monsters stuff?”

Will is not convinced, “I still don’t see how this makes any sense at all…” He crosses his arms. He is wearing a light white long sleeved shirt, impressively not stained, given the way he was drinking the dark liquid. Mike’s glaze stops on his arms for a second, maybe two, before it returns to the boy's face.

“Ok, hear me out, let’s put the main facts together: you are thirsty for blood, I mean, c’mom Will,” he has both of his brows raised, like it was obvious, “And how all of it started? You were bitten by a demobat, a BAT, Will! Maybe he didn’t exactly have rabies, but another virus or something. And Steve didn’t become a vampire because he doesn’t have the connection you have to the upside down.”

The topic makes Will a bit uncomfortable, but the other boy has him invested in his theory.

“Maybe your DNA was somehow changed and you’re now able to relate to the dimension in some deeper– more biological level,” Jesus Christ, Will can’t catch a break, this is so frustrating for him. Mike notices the subtle change of humour, “but, y’know, besides the blood-drinking part, you’re nothing like Dracula. We can just find out what really changes for you now… Together. As a team, remember?” He playfully punches Will on his chest, with his right hand; And now he realizes it. It’s the same arm with a big cut, still not healed, under that sleeve.

Will catches his wrist, before it falls down to the other boy’s side. Mike looks surprised, he doesn’t flinch, but he catches a quick, small breath inside his lungs, and he holds it still. He watches him curiously, as the shorter boy rolls his sleeves up and reveals the wound tissue a little bit inflamed, fragile. It’s healing, but there’s a particular area that was maybe scratched, or scraped against some rough material not long ago. It was bleeding. 

There was blood, Mike’s blood. 

It’s scarlet red coming out of his warm skin. And it’s exactly the same smell that has been bothering him since he woke up. Oh, he feels dizzy. He is hypnotized. Never had he scented a more luscious perfume. There was sweetness aggressively invading his nostrils and desire fulfilling his brain. He was satiated, sure, but how could an animal’s blood even compare to his best friend’s, who he loves so dearly? A thin strip of the liquid slowly runned down to the back of Mike’s forearm, heading to his elbow. It would drop at any time, he couldn’t let this preciousness be wasted.

Will finally locked eyes with him. He was breathing heavily, he could see Mike’s chest moving rapidly, his face trying to copy the colour of the gore on his arm. Was he afraid of him? He looked so beautiful, prohibited. He could feel heat irradiating from the limb he was holding.

‘“Mike?” He asks quietly, and the boy responds immediately, “Yes?”

“Can I… try something?” He says as he drops his eyes for a first second to his friend’s lips and then to his forearm. “Yes…” he breathed out. He sounded completely disoriented, like he was on drugs.

And now, they’re both silent. The taller boy follows every movement the other makes with his dark eyes. With his hand holding on Mike’s wrist, he raises his arm just enough to have a complete view of his forearm’s back, to where the blood is running outside his veins. He moves it close to his face and is instantly drowned in allurement. He experimentally licks the strand before it can move further. He notices the gulp in his friend’s exposed throat and how his body trembles at the touch. 

He now wants to test if this vampire thing really is like the movies and books. He looks at Mike one more time, he subtly nods, and it seems to be a mutual silent agreement to what is gonna happen next. He wishes he could read his mind. Why would he let him do it? And he looks at his arm once again. His skin is soft and hot to the touch. The paleness of the limb makes the dark liquid stand out even more, like it is an invitation to enter. He presses the tissue with his thumbs firmly to stimulate the blood flow.

Just before making himself welcome, he looks directly into Mike’s eyes while licking the last line of blood in the wound’s direction. He feels his fangs swinging forward, just like a venomous snake would do when it strikes its prey, so he closes his eyes and feels it. He feels his new set of teeth piercing the fragile, vulnerable skin of the boy, who hisses in pain, but doesn’t protest.

He slowly begins to suck the rich blood from his radial artery and Mike unwittingly lets soft whimpers escape from his throat, while trying to catch his own breath correctly. Oh, and Will hears them. He really does. He was completely and utterly intoxicated by the sounds he was making, the way he felt his best friend losing the strength to stand, all because of him. 

With his free arm, the taller boy grabs the other’s biceps and squeezes it, encouraging the filthy act and practically begging to get them on the ground, where they could be more comfortable. Both Will’s hands were on the extremities of his forearm, pressing each time harder until he was satisfied with the intensity the blood was coming for him.

It might be the best thing he ever tried. It was heavenly sweet at first and slightly bitter at the end. But it’s not just the taste– there was something else. Like it was some kind of illegal substance. An extremely vicious one. He doesn’t want to let it go, but then he hears a low “Will, I think I’m getting a bit dizzy,” and he immediately stops, moving away from the shaky boy. Shit, did he actually hurt him?

He came into his senses. What the hell was he doing? Who did he think he was? He was taking advantage of his best friend, contaminating his blood. He feels so stupid. Guilt and shame overflow inside of him. He thinks he might cry at the sight of Mike so weak on the ground, “Mike? Mike, I’m sorry– I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay, Will, it’s okay, I swear,” he says with half-open eyelids. “You did nothing wrong, okay? It was actually kinda cool,” he accommodates himself to lie down on the floor, hands on his chest, looking up at Will.

He is still shy, with watery eyes, so he just nods, “okay,” even if he doesn’t fully believe his words. 

“Hey, let’s rest, okay? I can sleep down here tonight, I’ll take the couch,” he suggests, dragging out the words lazily. Oh, man, Will hopes Mike doesn’t die during his sleep. He didn’t suck enough blood for that. But he looks so dizzy.

“Sure… Do you need help getting up?”

“Yeah, that would be good.”

So Will gets up on his feet first, offering his hands. Mike takes the help and slowly gets on Will’s side, tripping on his own feet.

“Mike, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, Will, it’s just my arm that is a bit numb, like when you take a nap over them. I’m fine, I swear,” he says as he heads to the couch.

Will nods, a bit relieved, but still guilty. He tries not to overthink about this when he lies down on his mattress, avoiding looks with the other boy.

—

When he wakes up, Mike is not there. He’s a bit disappointed, but at least he’s not dead on the couch or something. What if he actually did kill Mike? Oh, God, this is terrible, he needed to stop thinking at all.

It’s late, so there’s nobody in the kitchen. Is there anybody else in the house? He feels hungry – for actual food this time – so he grabs a bowl and pour some cereal and milk. Not actual food, but still… If this is what is gonna happen for now, he’s so glad he won’t be needing to feed on blood all the time. He hates the idea of hurting someone to satisfy his cravings.

“Will, you’re up,” Mike appears with a grin on his face, “and you’re eating cereal.”

“Yeah, I guess my vampirism is limited,” he cringes a bit at his speech, but Mike doesn’t notice it.

“That’s good, having a diverse diet. Imagine if you had to feed on me every time you got hungry, that would be crazy, right?” He says abstracted and– wait, what the hell?

“What?” Will says, a bit shocked, he didn’t even think about that, “yeah, that– that’s crazy, I guess.”

Mike looks at him, not so unbothered anymore, “I just mean, I don’t know, for hiding..? Like, the bites, um, from our families– Oh, your family was down there in the basement earlier and I told them that you woke up and everything, so everyone is okay now,” he looks calmer, “they went to Hop’s cabin and I offered to stay here with you until you were up.”

“Oh. So, now we go…?” He doesn’t really want to go.

“If you want to.” And as if he was reading his mind, he says “they wouldn’t know whether you slept too much,” tilting his head down to look up at him cogently, a small grin forming on his lips.

Will can’t help but copy the smile, “yeah, I guess I slept too much,” he repeats the other.

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

“Do you wanna go to my room?” He asks as soon Will finishes his breakfast.

“Sure.”

—

A few times pass. They lazily lie on opposite sides of Mike’s bed, each one reading a different comic, when suddenly

“Hey, can I see your fangs?” It catches Will off guard, so he’s a little surprised.

“I guess,” and then he forces a big unnatural smile. 

“I can’t see it,” he puts the comic book down and crawls closer to him, “open your mouth.”

“Okay…” 

Mike is close, and when he doesn’t see his bunny teeth any differently, he lowers his head and looks up to Will’s palate. God, this is so embarrassing. 

“Aha! Found it,” he says excitedly, “dude, they’re, like, retractable. No way, this is actually so cool!” Will can’t avoid the heat rushing to his face. Mike was praising him. And so, he continues curiously

“Can you control it? Can I touch it?”

“I don’t know, Mike. I think it’s like those snakes. It only comes out when I’m going to feed or something,” he’s flustered.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry for disappointing you.”

“No, Will, it’s okay,” he doesn’t look less amazed by Will’s new features, “um– what about when you’re hungry? What does it feel like?”

“Um… It felt like I was going to pass out… I was starting to get frustrated. I don’t know, I think I was a bit afraid of what would happen if I went too long without, um, blood,” Mike unintentionally grinned at the last part, like he thought Will was really cool for drinking blood.

He quickly brushes the smile off, “sorry, that must be really scary for you.”

A moment passes. They’re a little awkward, just sitting in front of each other and not saying anything. It seems like Mike went out of questions.

“How long do you think it’ll be until you’re thirsty again?”

“I don’t have any idea.”

“I’ll be here if you need to… I don’t mind.”

“What? No, Mike, I don’t want to hurt you any more. Why would you do that?”

“You’re my best friend, Will, I want to help you out,” he looks at him tenderly, “I really do… Whatever you need.”

“I don’t know, you really don’t need to–”

“But I want to, ok? You don’t need to feed on me, but I will be here for you anyways,” he crosses his arms, stubbornly.

“Fine, whatever,” Will rolls his eyes and goes back to his comic. Mike crawls back to his place and does the same. He can’t help but steal a feel glances from him when he’s not looking. Is Mike really willing to sacrifice his own blood to fulfill Will’s needs? He can’t really admit to himself that he wants to find out. He couldn’t; it’s too selfish.

—

Three days pass. Will is starting to get really sensitive to the lights. He sees his own pupils in the bathroom mirror, they’re huge! He looks drugged. Maybe he could head up to Mike and– No, not possible, he’d rather die of starvation. It’s too much humiliation.

It hits him that he obviously needs Mike more than Mike would ever need him. He feels sad now, more than anything. He takes a long hot shower, longing for the heat that doesn’t belong to him anymore. He’ll make some excuse to not attend dinner, he won’t be able to see that amount of people so close to him.

He sits on the basement couch, singing along with the music coming from the boombox, wearing some borrowed pajamas and trying to sketch something on his notebook. It comes too naturally, he’s already familiarized with the feeling. It’s Mike’s nose, Mike’s eyebrows, Mike’s lips; it’s Mike. The boy who could never love him back. The boy who would take back every promise he ever made to him once he found out what he thinks about him; how he thinks about him.

His rumination is interrupted by a quiet creak coming from the door.

“Will?” He closes his notebook rapidly and tosses it underneath a pillow.

“Huh?” He looks at the boy coming in his direction.

“Why didn’t you come eat dinner with us? And I know you aren’t full. No lies, okay?”

Will doesn’t know what to do, he hadn’t thought about that part, “I don’t really feel good.”

When Mike is sitting down, right between him and the sofa arm, and finally gets a good look at him, he blurts out “God, you look terrible.”

“Damn, Mike, thanks,” he responds sarcastically.

“You know that’s not what I mean. You look like… You look like you haven’t fed in 3 days, Will,” he’s all serious, and now that he mentions it, his attention goes all to the skin exposed on his neck. He looks away quickly, gulping.

“Yeah, I’m okay, I can resist.”

A few seconds of silence pass. When he looks back at Mike, the boy is looking up to the ceiling, humming, pretending to think about something. His throat moves. Oh, God, is he provoking Will? That boy is the devil and this is absolutely hell.

“What? What are you doing?” He asks, flabbergasted, and Mike looks back at him. He’s getting nervous.

“I’m just trying to come up with some plan to help you,” he now has a hand on his chin and tilts his head to the side, lazily looking up, exposing the soft skin there. He’s absolutely not thinking. Who does he think he is? But it kind of works and Will is intensely staring. He can almost see the blood flowing, the heartbeats through his neck.

“Mike, stop,” he gulps, “please.”

“What? I’m not doing anything? Just thinking,” and he does not move. Will is getting stressed, he’s getting angry at Mike.

“You do not think, asshole,” it’s getting unbearable, his breathing is getting harder.

“Ouch! That hurts, Will,” and when he pretends to get shot in the heart, he throws his head back and his Adam’s apple is so, so visible. He’s gonna throw up.

“Stop messing with me! I’m not drinking your blood, Mike! Get out!” He finally explodes.

Mike looks a bit startled, and yet he says “I’m not going anywhere, Will.”

“Fuck, Mike, what the hell is wrong with you,” but he sounds on verge of tears. And he can’t really explain why.

Mike softens his face and voice, “Will, do you trust me? Because I trust you. You can do this, okay?”

“How can you say this? I’m a monster.” And a tear finally rolls down his face.

“I’m not afraid,” and he’s pulling his own collar to his shoulder, “you need this,” and he’s looking so softly at Will. How could he resist him? That boy is a fallen angel.

He gulps and looks one last time to the dark brown eyes before holding on the muscle on both sides of his upper back. He instinctively aims for his right common carotid artery, right above his collarbone. His mouth is so close to the skin that he shakes from anticipation. He’s getting sick on eagerness, still trying to resist one last time, until he feels Mike’s right hand on the back of his head, caressing his hair so softly.

It was the last drop to make Will loose from everything that was holding him on. His fangs projects forward. His vision is blurred and all he can hear is a sharp hiss coming from Mike, whose hand was tightened on a thick strand of the lighter hair. He didn’t even taste the blood and he was already overwhelmed with pleasure. Maybe it was Mike who was going to kill Will at the end of the day.

The blood was heavy, full of oxygen, full of life, full of Mike. It was his taste. The suction flow was low enough to spend a long time without really hurting him, so he started to lose control over himself, getting carried away with the realization. If he was once sitting politely on the couch, now he was pulling his legs up to entirely face his friend. 

He’s kneeling over Mike, pushing him against the meeting of the sofa arm and backrest, positioning one of his own knees between the other’s legs. The boy is whimpering and pulling his hair, tilting his own head forward to lean his left cheek on the other’s shoulder. 

Every inch of Will’s body is demanding moremoremore and pushpushpush. He raises his right hand to the sensitive curve between Mike’s neck and shoulder, caressing his throat. He slowly pulls back from the warmth of his skin, gripping the boy’s neck lightly to bring his face into view. He looks dazed, face red and lightheaded.

“Hey, your fangs,” and he’s untangling one of his hands from Will’s hair to his jaw, thumb brushing the teeth covered in red, now in a wide grin. The blood is dripping, it’s a big mess, so Mike tries his best to clean his chin with his finger and they’re both looking at the motion.

“I had– I had another question that day…” he says hesitantly, chest rising and falling rapidly, his thumb brushing against his lower lip.

“Yeah?” Will asks, still yearning for more, looking down at Mike’s lips.

“What do I taste like?” Mike asks between short, sharp breaths, looking up at Will, whose heart is beating about 500 times per minute.

“Why don’t you find out?” 

And that’s all it takes for Mike to crash his lips against Will’s, sending a current running through his body. It doesn’t take long for Will to correspond in the same intensity, losing himself in the warm breath and softness of the boy. Suddenly, there’s rough hands and reddish stains everywhere on each other’s faces and necks. 

Mike moves one of his hands down to the shorter’s hips and uses the other one to press on his chin, inviting Will to open his mouth and deepen the kiss. It’s hot and wet and it tastes even more like Mike. Its sweetness is more than enough to make his stomach overflow with butterflies. It’s better than anything he’d imagined. 

He temptingly bites a soft moan out of Mike’s bottom lip and he grows overwhelmingly flushed. Heat radiating from the taller boy’s mouth and his own face. It’s instantaneously too hot. He feels Mike’s hand lifting up from his hips, carefully exploring under the fabric of Will’s shirt, touching his back, his stomach and finally grabbing his waist firmly.

Will breathes out a hungry groan into Mike’s mouth. He slowly readjusts his hands to Will’s thighs, bringing the boy to straddle him in an attempt to somehow make them even closer. Their bodies are entirely connected, all hot and flushed. 

Will breaks their kiss to experiment the new contact on the side of his lips, his chin, his jaw and stops where his neck should begin. He sucks on the skin there softly, deep pleasured with the delicate moan hitting close to his ear. The skin there is red, either from the stain or the blushing, he couldn’t distinguish. Still, he pierces the fragile neck and aims for more of Mike.

“Will–,” his friends exhales in pleasure, pressing Will’s stomach close to his own with both hands on his waist. Their chests are glued and they breathe rhythmically. He can feel Mike’s rushed heartbeat mixing with his very own as he sucks the frenetic cells rushing through his veins and arteries.

He feels his friend’s body messily reacting to him in an unmistakable and infectious way, moving against each other energetically. A feeling he only ever kept to himself, only when he was sure he was alone, in private, but is now sharing shamelessly with his best friend.

He pulls back, his fangs slipping free from the boy’s skin and relies on his tongue and lips to clean the vulgar wounds. Will is going crazy, and he is sure Mike is too. He immediately seals their mouths again. Mike experimentally slips his tongue into the kiss with raw urgency to taste his own fresh blood again. They’re both moaning, panting, running out of breath in each other’s mouth, like it’s the only air filling the room.

It all becomes too much in a few minutes. And yet, Will needs more, so he tries to suck the red liquid out of Mike’s lower lip, too carefree and caught up on his own needs. The skin there is so sensitive and plump that when the sharp teeth penetrate the skin, Mike lets a loud yelp out.

He quickly retracts, “Shit, was that too much?”

“I was just a bit caught off guard, that’s all,” he licks his lips, trying to use the saliva as some kind of sedative to stop the thin line of blood there.

Will is worried and he notices that Mike notices it.

“Hey, it’s fine, let me lead from now on, okay?” And, oh, “that’s so hot,” Will thinks to himself. Maybe he actually said that out loud, he doesn’t care.

He collides their lips together again, Will lets a soft hum out of his mouth. The act is probably painful to Mike, and still his hands are exploring his stomach, running up, further, until they reach his chest.

“Can we take that off?” Will is mesmerized, so he just nods and lifts his hands higher as Mike sets him free from the fabric. Mike stares at his bare chest, arms and stomach, absorbing every detail, every mole in sight.

His eyes stop dancing somewhere on his side, but he doesn’t ask. He just starts kissing and nibbling the skin surrounding the boy’s ribcage. He trails his lips up until meeting the pale skin of Will’s clavicule, increasing the aggressiveness of the gesture. Will grabs a handful of Mike’s curls and pushes himself down on the boy’s lap as a quick reflex and they both exhale shakily from pleasure.

They kiss and twitch against each other until they’re out of breath, panting, covered in sweat and tired. Will lies his head on Mike’s shoulder, who has his hands lazily wrapped around his waist. It is very sweet.

Mike gently brushes his finger against an old burn scar he was staring at earlier. “Hey, Will, what was that?”

Will pulls back slightly to look at Mike’s eyes, “It was your sister. When they were exorcizing the mindflyer out of my body,” and Mike looks up at him with his sad lost boy puppy face.

“It was a long time ago,” Will completed, but Mike is quick.

“You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of this,” and he tenderly hugs Will’s exposed sides tighter. Will melts into the touch and hugs him back, lying his head on top of the other’s.

They stay like this for some time. It’s comfortable and warm, something that his skin lacks lately. What happens now? When they have to tell the others about what happened to Will or when they eventually find out about Will and Mike? If they’re even a thing now, he needs to remind himself about that. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if this meant nothing. He would still need Mike, but what happens when he says that he can help him anymore? When he says he doesn’t need him like that? Like Will needs him?

Will doesn’t notice he’s crying until Mike breaks the contact to look at him. 

“What happened, Will?” And his voice is the softest he’s ever heard. 

Will knows he needs to tell the truth. It wouldn’t be fair to him after the intimacy they built.

“I don’t know, I just– Everything is so different and… What if I need more– What if I need you and you just…” he sobs, “what if you’re not here anymore… and you go back on–”

“Will, stop. I’m not going anywhere, okay? And I need you here with me. I want to stay with you– and to take care of you,” his eyes stay firm on Will’s.

“Do you promise?” Will ask between soft sobs, a bit more alleviated. 

“Yeah, Will… Always,” and he looks at him like he is the only thing in the world, pupils wide enough to leave no space to the colour of his iris.

They stare at each other for a mysterious amount of time.

“Mike?” Will finally breaks the silence.

“Yeah?”

“I think we need a shower,” and they look fondly at each other again, noticing the stains on their faces, bodies and clothes. Lovemarks. 

Will looks proudly at the bruises on Mike’s neck. Different tones of red colouring his skin, from purplish suction marks to the brown-like healing tissue around the double bite wounds. His lips are plumped, his bottom one being actually injured from the biting attempt. There’s blood overlapping his face like a paint-brush lazily danced over it, sweat giving a divine bath of shining on the boy. He really is an artist.

Mike looks beautiful. He is beautiful and he finally belongs to him.