Chapter Text
“Here, take this.”
Mike grabs the can from Dustin’s outstretched hand, pushing the tab to open it. He’s sitting on the floor, his back supported by his bedpost.
The party was crammed into his dorm and eagerly drinking before they left. Will sat against the door with his knees loosely pulled to his chest. Dustin lounged at Mike’s desk, his feet rudely propped atop his homework that he will now have to redo. Max and Lucas sat on the bed across from Mike's, which can also be referred to as Will’s bed.
When they both decided on Indiana State, it just felt like a no-brainer for them to be roommates. They just got each other. They went through everything together throughout their whole lives, bad and good. Doing college separately just felt wrong, even if separate was just having different rooms.
Lively chatter filled the room, everyone excited and a bit tipsy thanks to the drinks secured by Max and her fake ID. Once she got to college, she learned that when she used her wheelchair while buying alcohol, she had a lot more success compared to the rest of them buying it. She's gotten to the point where she only uses it when she needs it, which obviously included illegally purchasing alcohol. This made their pregame function with ease, eliminating the stress of anyone else buying it.
Mike sipped his drink and lightly grinned as he took in the moment. An intense debate was taking place across the room, with Will and Lucas arguing over which National Lampoon's movie was the best. Mike was quite confused as to how they managed to land on the topic, but he didn't really care enough to ask. He was just happy he got to see everyone again. The party mostly split apart for college, with Lucas playing basketball at the University of Indianapolis and Dustin at Michigan. Will, Mike, and Max ended up at ISU together at least, but it being just the three of them wasn’t the same as everyone all together. Everyone else came to visit for the weekend, and they were left to savor the brief time they had.
He glanced at Will, his face passionate as he insisted that Christmas Vacation was leagues above the original. His hands gestured wildly as he defended his claim, leaving Mike astonished as to how his drink hadn't spilled. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes shot daggers at Lucas, who was not keen to agree with him. His hazel eyes met Mike’s, who had now become incredibly aware of the fact that he had been staring for a hot minute. Mike felt his cheeks flush out of embarrassment as he looked away. He wasn’t completely sure why he was embarrassed. It’s just Will that he was looking at. It’s normal to look at friends. He settles on the reasoning that he was just caught by surprise.
”Hey Mike! You agree with me, don’t you?” Will chirped, a big smirk plastered on his face.
“Oh yeah. For sure. Christmas Vacation is awesome.” Mike knew Will knew what his answer was going to be. For one, Christmas Vacation had become one of his favorite Christmas movies the second it came out, which resulted in Will watching it with him repeatedly over the years. Along with that, Mike very rarely chose to disagree with Will. Whether it was because Will was always right or just that Mike didn’t want to oppose him, Mike didn’t know.
Mike and Will had always been close, excluding their freshman year of high school and the summer before it, but college had brought them even closer. They ate almost every meal together, studied together at 4:30 every Monday and Wednesday, always went to the store together, and pretty much did everything together. Often Max would join them, but she had managed to make quite a few more friends than the two of them did, so she had some other options if she was sick of the boys. They had a designated movie night on Thursdays after dinner, when they would lie in Mike’s bed and watch whatever they rented that week from Family Video. On the weekends they would sometimes go out depending on their mood. Really, whatever they did was with one another, which was just how Mike liked it.
“C’mon, dude! I literally cannot believe you actually think that,” Lucas yelled with a butthurt expression plastered on his face. Will raised his eyebrows at Lucas as he took a sip of his drink.
“Whatever, we all know I’m right,” Will announces triumphantly, checking his watch as he speaks. “It’s getting late. When do we want to head out?”
“I think now is good,” Max chimes in. “You guys agree?”
She is met with a few nods, a “let’s do it,” and a “yes, please,” and everyone gets ready to head to the party. Max and Lucas hopped off the bed as Will downed the drink in his hand. He chucked the cup in the trash before grabbing an empty plastic water bottle off his desk and filling it partially with vodka.
“God damn, Byers,” Lucas says, a bit surprised. When they were in high school, they would all drink, but it wasn’t anything crazy, and Will was never too big a drinker.
“You clearly haven’t seen college Will, have you?” Max teases as she leans into Will. “Pour some for me in there, okay?”
He appeases her request, doubling the bottle’s contents. They spent a few minutes getting out the door, some with a beer in hand and the hope that luck was on their side and no cops would be stationed along their walking route.
The group walks along an empty street, a few minutes away from the house hosting the party. Mike wasn’t really sure whose party it was. All he knew was that Max knew a guy, and they all knew Max, so here they were. He walked next to Max and Dustin, with Will and Lucas a few paces ahead. From behind, he could see Will’s broad shoulders turned slightly away from the other two.
Mike sped ahead to catch up to them, now walking in the grass beside Will. “Hey there.”
“Hey, Mike.” Will grinned before squinting at Mike. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing much. Just wanted to talk to you,” Mike replied, glancing down at his bottle and noting the absence of much of the liquid it started off with.
“Lucas said he actually is getting playing time at Indy. Right, Lucas?”
Lucas looked over, mockingly offended. “Of course I am. Did you expect anything less?”
“No, no, of course we didn’t,” Mike replies for the both of them.
Will slings his arm around Mike’s shoulders. He turns his head, leaning into Mike’s ear. Will’s breath was warm against his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.
“I did,” Will whispers, giggling. Will’s fingers gently dig into his shoulder, and Mike finds himself wishing that he doesn’t pull it away. He gulps, turning his head slightly away from Will as he takes a sip of his beer, chasing its effects. That wasn’t weird to think. Will and Mike were just touchy friends. It’s fine to like that about their friendship and to want it and seek it out. That is completely normal—well, maybe not normal, but it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s just how they were.
Mike looked back, meeting Will’s gaze. His eyes were fixated on Mike’s, looking up slightly, wonder and excitement and joy scattered across them. His smile was spread wide to mildly reveal his teeth. Mike’s eyes dropped to his cheeks, now endearingly rounded from the smile and wearing a light shade of pink.
“Will, how much have you drank already?”
“Not that much, really. Just the two in the dorm, and me and Max have done some damage to this,” he replies, lifting the bottle to show Mike. “I’m not that drunk, really.”
Mike thinks back to the drinks Will had in the dorm, which now that he thinks about it likely had more than a drink’s worth of vodka in them, and quickly disagrees with Will’s answer.
“Sure, buddy.” Mike pats his back sassily before wrapping it loosely around his waist.
“No, Mike. I’m serious.” Will’s smile drops, and he stares intensely at Mike. “I’m just having some fun. I’m not that drunk.”
Mike laughs, the sound lightly echoing from his gut. “Okay, okay. I surrender.”
Will’s smile returns, and he turns his head away from Mike to continue his previous conversation. His arm lingered around Mike, a grin creeping onto his lips to match that of Will’s. It was nice. Will’s warmth radiated against Mike’s side despite the chilly air engulfing the road. Instinctively, Mike pulled him a bit closer, seeking out the warmth and pressing their sides closer together. Will leaned into it just as Mike expected. It was just what they did.
When they arrived at the party, they opened the door to a rickety-looking college house bustling with people. They walked single file as they made their way through the living room. Max led the way as she searched for some of her friends that she wanted to introduce Lucas to. Everyone else tagged along to stick together.
In the kitchen, Max found her friends. The countertop was occupied with various bottles of liquor, a big bowl of blue punch, cups, and discarded drinks. In one corner of the room, a cooler sat on the floor, presumably filled with more drinks. The room was significantly less crowded than the living room, allowing Mike to breathe and acclimate to the setting.
”Hey, guys!” Max said, tapping a girl on the shoulder and drawing the attention of her surrounding group, who greeted her bubbily. Mike recognized most of them, having spent some time with them while hanging out with Max. He didn’t mind them—they were nice, just not Mike’s kind of people. Mike honestly struggled with finding friends once he got to college. He hung out with a few people besides Will and Max, but it was hard making connections with people who didn’t get it. Nobody here knew what he’d seen and been through besides those two, and it was hard to have to shove down such a big part of him. The Upside Down, Vecna, Will going missing—it all was his life for years. That was what woke him up at three in the morning with a cold sweat, but it was also what he now looked back on and was able to laugh about at times. It was all awful, but it brought the party together. Now that some time had passed, they were able to reminisce on some parts of their shared trauma and joke about it. They’d all poke fun at Dustin for somehow raising a demo-dog, and they’d laugh about their odd memories with Derek, whether the memories were delightful or dipshit-esque. Everything that happened wasn’t something Mike could just brush under the rug—it was a part of him, and he struggled with hiding it.
“These are my friends from home. Some of you guys know Mike and Will, but this is…” Mike walked away from the introduction session, not really feeling like making small talk with them. He drifted over to the cooler and grabbed a beer to replace the empty can in his hand.
“Grab me one too, yeah?”
Mike turned, seeing Will standing a few feet behind him.
“On it,” Mike said, reaching back in and grabbing a bottle to hand to Will.
“I think outside they got a fire going. Wanna check it out?” Will asks, nodding his head towards the hallway.
“Sure,” Mike replies. They exit the kitchen, stopping to let the rest of them know where they were off to. Mike leads the way as they maneuver through the house to find the back door. Eventually, they come across the mudroom, leading them to the backyard.
In the center of the yard, a small bonfire roared. A crowd of people surrounded it, a few playing beer pong on a table in front of it. They drifted over to the fire after Will spotted another art major to go talk to. Against the flames, Will’s face was illuminated with orange and yellow. The light reflected off of his cheekbones, and the shadows sharpened his jawline. The brown tones in his eyes were brought out by the fire, making them glow with a light chestnut hue.
Quite frankly, Will looked beautiful.
Choosing to overlook the observation he just had, Mike tuned into their conversation and narrowed his focus onto Will’s friend. He vaguely recognized him, but he couldn’t put a name to his face. They were talking about some other girl in one of their classes, Rachel, who apparently was “shit at art” but really didn’t know it. Not really having much to add, Mike just listened, laughing when they laughed, piping in with chirps of agreement when he deemed fit. He sipped at the beer, feeling himself starting to slip into the tipsy category. His eyes kept finding Will’s face and he’d struggle to pull them away. The fire just made him look so different—but truly, not different at all. His features were magnetic, and Mike wasn’t strong enough to resist it.
Mike needed to get away. He just kept staring at Will, and he was standing around while he talked to his friend like a clingy puppy.
“I’m going to go back inside and see what everyone else is up to. Is that cool?” Mike raised an eyebrow slightly, waiting for permission out of politeness.
“Yeah, I’m all good! Go ahead.” Will smiled before returning to his conversation. Mike lingered for a second, part of him hoping Will would come in tow. All his waiting earned was a double take from Will before he realized he should actually do what he said he would and go, alone.
He found Dustin and Lucas inside, deeply invested in a card game. They sat on the floor around a coffee table surrounded by a few other people, some scattered on the floor with others settled onto the furniture. He set his hand on Lucas’ shoulder, greeting them with a firm “What’s up?” as he sat down behind him.
“Where’s Will?” Dustin asked, looking back at Mike briefly before returning to the cards in his hand.
”Out back. He found some dude he knows to talk to.” Mike noticed a bottle of Fireball on the coffee table, pointing his finger at it. “Pass me that, yeah?”
Dustin grabbed the bottle, snagging a cup from a small stack beside it before handing both to Mike. Mike poured his best guess at a shot’s worth into his cup before tilting his head back and downing it. He coughed slightly before he regained his composure, acting like it went down easy. It did not. Mike did not enjoy that. But, unfortunately for Mike, that was the closest thing around, and Mike just needed something. Everything just felt off tonight, and all his slightly intoxicated brain could piece together about that feeling was that it involved Will.
He didn’t get it. There wasn’t anything different about Will tonight, or about the dynamic between them. They were just the same as always. Why did he have such a weird feeling when he thought about him? When he was around him? Mike’s gaze drops to his denim-clad leg, and he begins tracing circles on it as he thinks, his finger following his train of thought.
Fact: Mike is drunk.
Fact: Will is drunk.
Fact: They are both drunk.
There. All the facts are laid out. And yet, Mike is still in the same place he started—confused, contemplative, and, oddly enough, with a strange sensation of déjà vu.
His mind darts back and forth in his memory, thinking back to other times he and Will were drunk, comparing it to the present. His mildly panicked reminiscence wanders across the day he hyperventilated in a McDonald’s bathroom after a night out, freaking out about this weird feeling that he couldn’t explain. He jumps to the day Will’s presence filled his body with this burning feeling while they were tailgating, a feeling he then chalked up to the sunshine and alcohol.
”Hey, wanna go outside? These dudes want to play beer pong,” Dustin chirped, slapping Mike’s arm a bit harder than necessary.
Mike stops thinking. His train of thought derails, flying away like a northern bird at the smell of snowfall. “Yeah, sure,” he says, smiling emptily, emotionlessly, almost like a painted mannequin. His mind is left blank, only filled with a deep feeling of emptiness and desire.
Desire. A desire to know? To understand what is possessing his mind? Mike doesn’t know. He just feels it—he doesn’t get it.
He is yanked up from the floor by a hyped Lucas, making the decision to snag the fireball on his way up. Despite the rough go he had the first time with it, he felt determined to brave it again just so he could drink away the feelings. Clearly he didn’t have the time of day to address them, so he made the choice to make the feelings foggy and a forethought rather than dwell in them.
Lucas drags him through the house despite Mike not being a flight risk, but he doesn’t care to question it. Mike takes a swig from the bottle as they walk, failing to care about germs, or common courtesy, or really anything along those lines. Should’ve gotten to it before me, he thinks, making a stink face at the theoretical angry people giving backlash to his actions.
They arrive at the beer pong table, which is free, aside from a few people lingering around it to talk. As some of the guys from the card game set it up, Mike turns to Dustin and Lucas.
“Are you guys actually, like, good at beer pong?”
Lucas scoffs. “Am I good—am I good?” He slurs his words slightly, raising his eyebrows for dramatic effect. “I am amazing at beer pong. World Class.”
Mike simply stares at him, tilting his head slightly, until Dustin speaks. “See, I’m not that cocky. I’m decent at best, awful at worst. But I’m feeling like I’ll lean more towards the better side for this game, so don’t worry!”
“Sounds great guys. I can barely choose who to play with!” Mike says sarcastically, providing a cheap, clown-like grin.
“Fuck you, man.” Lucas shoves his shoulder. “I choose Dustin. He isn’t mean, like, um, some people.”
”He literally just called you cocky, bud.” Mike rolls his eyes, continuing on. “Be my guest. I wasn’t that interested in it anyways. I’ll just watch.”
Mike steps back as the two become immersed in the game. Lucas’ voice booms as they play, shouting triumphantly, trash talking, and yelling at Dustin when he messes up. Mike just sips his Fireball, letting himself fade into the moment and out of his head. Mike exchanges small talk with a girl who came up to him as he watched, not really interested in her or her words but lacking the confidence to shoo her away. She kept gently touching Mike’s arm and shoulder, but she failed to get the hint to stop every time Mike shrugged her off of him. She was nice, but her intentions were very clear, and Mike was not at all interested in her. Her hair was long and blonde, her frame small and short. She was as far from his type as apples are from zucchini. Mike hadn’t fully figured out what his type was, but he was certain of the fact that she was not it.
Desperate for an out, he looks around for something, someone. Dustin and Lucas are a stride ahead of him—too close to escape the girl. He risked the chance of her following or of them warding him away to avoid distraction. He could try to find Max, but then he’d probably be stuck with a group of girls that he barely likes. Plus, Max will definitely judge him for running away from a girl that flirted with him. That leaves him with one option—Will.
He turns around to scan the bonfire in search of Will, but to no avail. He just walks away from the girl, ignoring her weak protests as he leaves her behind. As he gets closer, he spots Will’s friend from earlier and heads that way. He hoped that he’d maybe find Will with him, but he was nowhere to be found. Mike hopelessly searched the crowd once more, but Will’s absence was heavy.
Mike patted the guy’s shoulder, drawing his attention. “Hey! Uh—do you know where Will went?”
“I’m not totally sure. He said he was going inside, but that was a long time ago,” the guy replied.
Mike thanks him before heading off to search the house. Once inside, he begins checking all the main rooms. He pops his head into the kitchen first, then the living room, then the den where he played cards. No Will. He doesn’t really know anywhere else in the house, so he wanders aimlessly, a bit too drunk to really think beyond his previous knowledge. Worry begins creeping into his gut, adding to his determination to find Will. Mike mostly just hopes Will is okay at this point, not really caring about an escape from the flirty girl. Mike doesn’t like losing Will. He needs to find him. He keeps his body moving, ignorant of the fact that unless Will was hiding in the carpet, Mike would’ve found him in the three rooms he searched by now. Luckily, as he circles back to check the living room a third time, his hunt is put to an end.
“Mike!”
Mike whips his head to face a short hallway, seeing Will exiting a bathroom. He leans against the doorframe, his arms raised in joy.
“Will! There you are.” Mike starts walking towards him, sighing in relief. “I was looking everywhere for you.”
“Ah, I’m sorry. I’ve just—uh—just been like floating around,” Will says, stumbling over his words.
“Alright then,” Mike replies. Will’s eyes pierce Mike’s, almost as if they were glued to one another. Mike shoots his glance downwards to avoid the stare.
“Hey Mike?” Will asks, his voice now soft.
“Yeah?”
“You’re my favorite person. Like ever. In the whole world.”
“Thanks, Will,” Mike chuckles. “You’re my favorite too.”
“Really?” He asks, a look of doubt creeping onto his face.
“Of course,” he says confidently. “You’re the best friend I could ever have.”
“Thank you.” Will smiles before suddenly springing out and ensnaring Mike in a tight hug. Mike stumbles back in surprise before wrapping his arms around Will’s shoulders.
“What’s this all about?” Mike asked, finding that confusion was one thing that he couldn’t shake this whole night.
“I dunno,” Will murmurs, his voice muffled slightly by Mike’s collarbone. “I just love you, I guess.”
Mike’s body went rigid, his head rising from Will’s shoulder as his eyes widened. The words made his body feverish for some reason, despite their shallow connotations. Will meant it platonically, obviously. As Mike would hope. He never even thought Will would think otherwise, nor did he now. There was no way Will loved him as more than a best friend—Will isn’t like that. Well, he is, but not towards Mike.
“Mike?” Will asked, his head now tilted to look up at him. His face was contorted into a slightly off look of concern, likely attributed to the alcohol Mike now smelled on his breath.
“Oh—uh, sorry. I love you too, man.” Mike exhaled deeply, the statement feeling raw, intimate, and unhealthy in his throat. Mike did love Will. Will was his best friend. To say he didn’t love him would be criminal. But why does it feel so wrong? Mike realizes that the words I love you aren’t ones the two of them ever exchanged; they always just lingered in the air as an unspoken truth expressed only through action. Mike said he loved Will when he’d make him a cup of coffee so he didn’t have to get out of bed on a lazy Saturday. Mike said he loved Will when he held him in his bed during late nights abruptly disturbed by unshakable nightmares, running his hands through Will’s hair as he sobbed onto his chest until he fell asleep. Will said he loved Mike when he drew for Mike, whether it be doodles passed in the library or large portraits that consumed days- worth of free time. Will said he loved Mike when he noticed the second Mike’s mood shifted, meeting him with gentle inquiry and a warm hug.
The words I love you, however, were not ones that the two would say aloud. Saying it made it feel more real, the way their friendship was far from the norm. Their dynamic was different—Mike would never comfort Dustin as he did Will, nor would he accept a hug from Lucas with the same openness as he did with Will. However, despite knowing that they were friends and holding immense confidence in the fact that they were nothing more, they still kept a pristine lock on the door of their intimacy, revealing glimpses only to those proven trustworthy. Around the party, they were evidently closer than typically showcased to the general public, but even around them, they instinctively dampened it. Their touchiness and familiarity only became apparent when it was impossible to repress, thanks to either high-strung emotions or alcohol.
Whether the shame Mike felt was mutual or not, he did not know. All Mike knew was that the closeness between the two boys was more than normal, and deviating from the norm was only okay in certain subtexts. The relationship between the two boys was not one of those subtexts, even when it remained platonic. Nevertheless, Mike chose to bottle up his shame, valuing the friendship he held with Will far above the burning pit in his gut he greeted on occasion when things felt all too real. He wasn’t ashamed of what he did within the friendship; he was just overly keen to the opinions of others that radiated in his mind when the lines between normal and different blurred.
The shame burned in his gut, but he easily pushed it to the side as he felt Will’s body sliding down in his arms.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Mike exclaimed, looking down at Will, who now had nestled his head into Mike’s chest. His arms were still tight around Mike’s waist, but he was failing to completely support his own body weight. Mike tightened his grip on Will’s shoulders, looping one arm underneath Wills to support him.
“I’m tired,” Will muttered. “I think I’m drunk.”
“I think I have to agree with you on that one,” Mike said, attempting to sober up himself as it became clearer that he was going to have to take care of Will. He steadied himself before heaving Will upwards, Will wrapping his arms around Mike’s neck. Mike fights Will’s pull, wrapping his arms around his waist and guiding him back into the bathroom. He gently places Will onto the toilet, and he slumps back onto it, his legs extending outwards. Mike goes to shut the door, not wanting to deal with anyone stumbling upon them. As he heads toward it, Will grabs his wrist.
“No. Don’t leave me,” he pleads, his eyes saddened.
“I’m not going anywhere, Will. I’m just shutting the door.” He proceeds to do so before leaning against the wall across from Will.
“How do you feel?” Mike asks, reaching out to brush his hair away from his eyes.
“I’m okay. I just need to sit for a bit.”
“Do you want me to grab water?”
“No,” Will answers abruptly. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Okay, that’s okay. I’m staying put.”
The two sit in silence for a while, neither sober enough to hold up small talk while actively trying to sober up. Will spends most of his time fixated on Mike, his eyes rarely leaving Mike. They mostly hover on his face, occasionally migrating to his body before making their way back up.
“Mm—my face is hot.”
“Okay, how about you splash some water on it. Get up,” Mike instructs. Will slowly rises from the toilet and takes a few stumbly steps over to the adjacent sink. He groans, grabbing onto it and hunching over slightly.
“You got it?” Mike asks, his eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, just give me a second.” Will raises his head cautiously and looks in the mirror. “Jesus. I look like shit.”
“You really don’t look that bad,” Mike says bluntly after a brief moment of contemplation, taking in Will’s appearance.
“Yeah, right,” Will chuckles. “What about this—” he says, gesturing to his face in a circular motion, “screams super hot, attractive, cool dude at a party.”
The words leave Mike’s mouth before he can think to change his answer, his judgment clouded by beer and Fireball. “I think everything about you screams that.”
Will whips his head to face him, his eyes wide. “What?”
“Oh—um, I don’t know. You just look good, I guess. Objectively speaking.” Mike felt his cheeks flush, hoping that it would go unnoticed.
“I see,” Will says, now going back to staring at his reflection. His hands slowly make their way to the faucet before stopping midway. Will drops his head before looking back at Mike.
“Can you help me?” He asks apologetically.
“Yeah, of course,” Mike replies, moving from the wall to Will’s side. He gently grabbed Will’s biceps and turned his body sideways so he could reach the sink. Mike turned on the water, letting it run for a little while so it wasn’t too cold, just a smidge below room temperature. He ran one hand under the flowing water, cupping it slightly.
He brought his hand up to Will’s face, pausing momentarily before placing it on Will’s cheek. He carefully dragged his hand downwards to Will’s jaw, then ran one wet thumb across his chin, the tip of the finger gently grazing his bottom lip. Will’s eyes were unwaveringly fixed on Mike, staring into his soul. Mike pointedly avoided his gaze, staring only at his own hand on Will’s face. Mike re-wet his hand and tenderly brought it to Will’s other cheek. The room’s silence was comfortably deafening, neither boy opting to disturb it. Mike’s body buzzed; whether from alcohol or unexplained nerves, he did not know.
Mike moved his hand against Will’s cheek yet again, now bringing it upwards onto his forehead. His hand trudged across Will’s soft, warm skin, almost as if it was taking note of every pore. His hand then looped downwards, lightly touching the bridge of Will’s nose as it made its way back to his cheek. Mike’s damp hand now rested firmly on Will’s cheek, his thumb moving slightly aside his nose.
Mike now chose to meet Will’s eyes, seeing an unreadable yet full expression. Mike did not move his hand.
“Mike?” Will whispered softly, tentatively.
“Yeah?” Mike asked as he watched Will’s eyes break the stare, shooting down to his lips briefly.
“Please don’t kill me.”
Before Mike could question Will’s answer, his lips were met with Will’s in a sloppy, blistering kiss. Mike was in shock; he didn’t kiss back, uncertain of what was happening and why it was happening. His lips tingled from the touch, its gentle yet firm pressure, desperation hiding in its haste. He shut his eyes, certain that if he closed them, when they opened, this unbelievable moment would disappear. Maybe Mike is dreaming. Maybe he is insane. Whatever it may be, this couldn’t be reality.
After what could have been one second or ten, Will pulls away, leaving Mike’s lips feeling empty against the cold air. His hand drops from where it was settled on Will’s cheek. Mike keeps his eyes squeezed shut, not prepared to face what may or may not remain of the moment, whether it be Will or the darkness of his bedroom when he wakes.
“Mike,” he hears Will say, confirming the fact that this was in fact real. Will had just kissed him. He slowly, hesitantly opens his eyes, anxious to see what faces him. His eyes reveal Will, staring at him, just as Mike had guessed. He was now leaning against the bathroom door, slightly further from Mike than before. His head was tilted back against the door, with one arm swooping across his body to grab the other.
Mike stood there silently. One hand went up to his lips, brushing them, feeling the absence of another pair against them. His heart ran rapid, his stomach was full of quickly multiplying butterflies, and his brain was empty, save one word: more. Mike wanted more.
An old, yet familiar feeling bloomed within him, and Mike slowly untangled it. He was transported back to when he was only twelve with a silly crush on a bald girl. That feeling was present then, and it was here now, only multiplied by ten. Mike’s body was numb with pure desire.
But Mike was too slow, too contemplative, and before he could sort out exactly what he wanted to do, Will disappeared right before his eyes. His hand grabbed behind him for the doorknob, finding it quickly before turning around and running away as fast as he could. Will had already disappeared into the crowd before Mike realized what had just happened.
Now abandoned, Mike stood in the bathroom, staring out into the lively house, still trying to wrap his head around what the hell had happened.