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“I can’t believe this is really happening.”
Will was carefully perched on a rooftop, a sniper in his arms, his gaze laser-focused on his target.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone.
Mike Wheeler himself, in all his boyfailure glory, sat cross-legged just behind Will, his chin resting atop Will’s own shoulder.
“I mean, woah, Will. We’re really doing it. We’re really–”
“Would you shut the fuck up?” Will whisper-shouts, whipping his head around to glare at Mike.
Mike’s head jerks back with the motion, his eyes doing that pitiful lost puppy thing they do so often. It irritates Will to no end.
“S-Sorry, Will. I’m sorry. You need to focus, right,” He mumbles, shuffling back an inch.
Will sighs heavily, turning back to his target.
This is it. He’s going to kill that motherfucker.
A squint of his hazel eyes, a deep breath, and a loud bang.
Charlie Kirk’s neck erupts into a spurt of red as Will smiles disbelievingly.
“Holy shit!”
“We gotta go! Move, Mike!”
—
They collapse into an alley, panting and laughing.
“Oh my god. We did it. We actually did it!” Mike drags his gaze from Will, gazing at the bustling street ahead.
“Yeah… we did.”
“So, what happens n–”
Mike’s words come to a screeching halt as his head whips back to see a pistol pointed directly at him.
“Wha– Will?”
Will steps forward, Mike steps back. There’s a tremble in his hands as they brace against the brick wall.
“Fuck you, Michael.”
BANG.
—
“Will!”
Chance runs toward his beloved, sighing in relief as he gathers him in his arms.
“Thank god you’re safe.”
“He’s gone, Chance. They both are.”
“Good riddance.”
Chance draws back from the embrace, taking Will’s face in his hands. He leans in just enough for their noses to brush.
“Fuck those unloved hoes.”
Will grins, placing his own hand on the back of Chance’s neck. They meet in the middle, their lips connect in a slow, tender kiss.
Will is so caught up in his boyfriend’s sweet lips that he doesn’t hear Michael’s screams that echo down the alley as he writhes in pain. Chance tangles his fingers in Will’s soft hair as their kiss becomes more passionate.
A hand grasps Will’s ankle. It’s Michael.
Will jolts away from the kiss and gasps. Mike’s eyes bloodshot.
“Please, Will the Wise…” He pleads, blood seeping through his stupid gay ass clothes and staining the concrete.
“Finish him.” Chance grits. In a split second, Michael becomes one with the floor.
“We did it…” Will huffs, grinning with pure glee.
“We are Bychance!” Chance exclaims, intertwining his fingers with Will’s. They sprint to the car, driving off into the sunset.
Will sticks his head out the window, feeling the late summer breeze on his skin. Purple Rain blasts from the speakers as a last “Fuck You” to the boy who had hurt him and the people he cares about the most.
He smiles against the wind. Goodbye, Michael. We won’t miss you.
—
Eventually, Will and Chance settle down with the party in a small town with not one, not two, not three, but four waterfalls. They live happily ever after, none of them even sparing a thought for that fuckass twink they never really liked anyways.
Nobody misses him. Max pisses on his grave. Jane occasionally visits to recite the gospel as she is pure at heart, but she knows that motherfucker is in the deepest depths of Hell. They all know. And they are endlessly grateful for it. Burn in hell, Michael James Wheeler.