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Will nuzzles his cheek onto his boyfriend's chest. A soft snore escapes through his parted lips, as he snuggles closer to seek the warmth and comfort.
He's not fully asleep, he can see the faint glow from the TV even through his closed eyelids. The muffled sounds from the TV murmur softly in the background, blending with a steady rhythm of his boyfriend's heart right beneath his ear.
Will exhales as he lets his fingers curl lightly into the fabric on his checkered shirt. He hums under his breath, slowly drifting deeper and deeper into sleep.
Suddenly, the sharp, abrupt knocking cuts through the silence.
Will jolts, his body tensing immediately as a startled gasp catches in his throat. His eyes snap open, widening almost comically, as his heart hammers way too fast for a human.
Another knock follows right after, this time even harder and more impatient.
He flinches again, eyes alarmed as he sits up, straightening his back and letting his boyfriend's arm just slide down from his shoulder just for a moment.
"I should get it," Will mumbles, his voice a little rough from his quick nap. He shifts as if to stand up, but fingers close gently around his wrist, stopping him before he can get to his feet.
"It's almost one in the morning, Will. It's Saturday, I'm sure someone just got the wrong door... besides, the knocking's stopped."
Will parts his lips to answer, but another harsh knock cuts him off. He pushes himself up, tugging his wrist free from his boyfriend's gentle hold. "I'll get it, Carlton."
Will walks toward the main door blinking against the hallway light, still shaking off sleep. He fumbles wit the lock and after a soft click, he twists the handle and pushes the door open. Carefully at first, because even though his apartment is in a really safe area, he can never be too cautious.
The scent of alcohol hits him first, and then the familiarity of the face hits him like a wave. Will blinks a few times, not sure if the person in front of him is just a figment of his imagination - or if he's still dreaming.
"Mike?" His voice is half disbelief, half caution.
There, leaning heavily against the wall for support, is Mike. One hand pressed flat against the surface, the other hanging loosely at his side. He sways slightly, his lips twitching upwards to form a lopsided smile.
Mike just grins and waves lazily with the free hand. "Will... hey. I mean- hey," he laughs a little too loud, a soft hiccup escaping from his throat. "Mind if I... come in?"
What is he even doing in New York? Will asks himself.
He hesitates, fingers brushing the doorframe as the tug of something buried deep in his heart tells him to step back and let Mike in.
It's been a year. A whole year of silence, of wondering if Mike was okay, if he was even thinking about him at all. The last time the whole party was together, they promised each other to stay in touch no matter what. It had been the day before they all left for college, the last chance to be together, and they had been through so much to let the distance pull them apart.
And yet... Mike just disappeared. No calls, no letters, nothing - except for that one letter Will received months ago. A single, quickly written note that gave pretty much no information about how he was doing, if he was fine. While the others heard from him every month. Lucas told him, and gosh, it stung so bad.
Frustration and worry stir in Will's stomach. Why did he just disappear like that? And now, seeing him here - drunk, leaning against the wall and grinning like an idiot, like nothing happened - Will isn't sure whether to feel relief, irritation or something more complicated.
After a few seconds Will lets out a heavy sigh, then steps aide, letting Mike stumble into the apartment. The door clicks shut behind him, and the faint smell of alcohol lingers in the air.
"I know you probably didn't expect me here, but," Mike starts, words slurred but before anything else comes out of his mouth, Carlton rises from the couch.
He moves towards them, immediately sliding a protective arm around Will's waist. Will stiffens slightly at the touch, suddenly nervous when Mike's eyes flick from him to Carlton, and for the first time since he arrived, the confident smirk falters.
Mike's eyes narrow, frustration rising in his chest. "Who the hell are you?" he snaps, slurring his words but still making them sound sharp.
Carlton doesn't flinch. He steps a little closer, arm still around Will's middle as his voice comes out calm but firm. "I should be the one asking you this question. I'm Will's boyfriend."
Mike laughs out loud. It sounds so bitter that it makes Will shift uncomfortably, heart hammering against his rib cage to the point he feels dizzy. "Like hell you are," he snorts in amusement, voice laced with something Will wasn't used to.
Carlton's jaw tightens, and for the first time, his calmness cracks just slightly. He steps forward, his arm slides from around Will's waist. Will flinches, panic flashing through his eyes, and reaches out instinctively. "Carlton, don't-"
His eyes are locked on Mike, and his voice cuts sharp through the thick tension in the air between them. "Who do you think you are, huh?"
Mike freezes for a fraction of second, then smirk, swaying a little as he takes a step forward. "I... I'm the one who actually knows him," he slurs, voice bitter and rough. "The one who actually matters to him."
Will finds himself caught between the two of them, heart skipping a beat and wave of nausea hitting him harder than he could imagine. The apartment feels smaller somehow, the tension suffocating all of them.
Mike smirks, sensing Carlton's anger building steadily inside of him.
"You really think you can-" Carlton starts, his chest almost brushing Mike's but Will grabs his wrist once again and pulls him away from his drunk friend.
"Stop! Both of you!" Will hisses loudly, he can hear his heartbeat pumping in his ears as he presses a hand to Carlton's chest, keeping both of them just out of reach. "Guys... just- please. Calm down," he murmurs, his voice now tired and on the edge of panic.
Mike snorts, the sound dripping with pure mockery and completely ignoring Will's attempts to calm them down. "I think I can what? Did I hit the nerve?"
Carlton's eye flash with pure frustration, his fists clenching and unclenching as if he's trying to stop himself from doing something wrong. "I'm the one who's here now, protecting him, not running away from everyone like you did. You're the famous Mike, huh?"
Mike blinks, anger even more visible behind his hazy eyes. He sways slightly as he jabs his finger toward him. "Protecting him? You? You don't even know what it means to protect Will. You don't even know what that means!"
He repeats and Will has had enough. His hands shoot out, pressing against both of their chests, trying to force them apart once again. "Enough!" His voice cracks, a mix of panic and frustration, and his eyes start to glisten with unshed tears. "Mike... Carlton... just stop! I- please"
For a heartbeat, the three of them freeze, tension vibrating in the air like a storm ready to streak. Carlton glares at Mike, chest still forward, while Mike's eyes flick to Will, widening slightly when he notices how vulnerable he's looking right now.
"Will..."
"No, don't." he shakes his head, hands slowly sliding from their chests as he swallows hard.
This... this is a mess. How did it get like this?
Will takes a deep, shaky breath, his eyes darting towards his boyfriend. "Carlton... I need you to go," he says unsure of what words he should use. "Just... leave. I'll handle this."
Carlton freezes, surprise flickering across his features, then his jaw tightens even more. "Will-"
"No," Will interrupts, his tone sharper now, though still as controlled as he can let out. "Please. Just- go. I need space to talk to him."
A beat passes. Carlton steps back, clearly annoyed by the whole situation, but his eyes are still protectively and silently asking Will if he's sure. His eyes lingering on Will for a long moment, and then, before turning toward the door, he leans in quickly, leaving a brief kiss on Will's lips.
Will's eyes widen slightly, especially when he hears Mike scoffing somewhere behind them. "I- I'll call you tomorrow," he fakes a smile, nodding toward Carlton whose fingers brush lightly against his arm.
He watches Carlton put on his shoes, his chest tightening with this weird tension when he notices him casting one last glance at Mike, and finally walks to the door. Mike smirks, voice thick with annoyance. "Yeah... you better leave," he spits, as he sees Carlton reach for the handle.
Will swallows hard, heart starting to increase in pace again, as Carlton pauses for a fraction of a second at the door. Finally, he lets out a quiet sigh and steps out. The soft click of the door echoes in the apartments, leaving Will standing between the empty hallway and Mike's sharp and questionable gaze.
He exhales slowly, running a hand over his face. "What was that about, Mike?"
Mike leans heavily against the wall, he focuses his dark and unreadable eyes on Will, but quickly averts his gaze . "That?" he asks. "You tell me! He acts like he- like he owns you, Will, and-"
"He's my boyfriend, Mike... and he's good to me," Will says with firm voice, ignoring the way his heart skips a beat whenever he truly looks at Mike. "You were the one who attacked him from the start. He was trying to protect me."
His jaw tightens, and he runs a hand through his messy hair, pushing himself off the wall. "Protect you?" he scoffs making Will flinch. "From me? Like I'm some stranger trying to-"
"You disappeared for a year, you- you disappeared Mike, you treated me like I'm some stranger and you show up at my door, drunk out of your ass, and expect me to what? Just... welcome you back like nothing happened?"
Mike blinks, caught off guard, his expression flickering between guilt and something deeper. "I- I didn't mean-" he starts, but Will cuts him off, anger and hurt mixing in his tone.
"No! Don't 'didn't mean' me, Mike. You left. You disappeared, didn't call, didn't write." Will repeats, the tears finally streaming down his cheeks, which he wipes almost instantly, like they burn him. "Mike, people cared about you... I cared about you! And you just... vanished. Do you have any idea what that did to me?"
Mike's lips press into a thin line, hurt flicking behind his eyes as his gaze focuses back on Will. He opens his mouth, but the words get caught somewhere deep down. Only a soft hiccup leaving his throat, as the room grows in heavy tension.
"Cared?" he says, voice trembling slightly and the whole confidefence from before vanishing in a matter of a second. "So... you don't care about me anymore?"
The way he says it, it makes Will's chest burn with guilt. He didn't mean it like that, of course he didn't. Nevertheless, his throat goes dry as he starts. "Mike..." his voice was soft, but steady, trying to calm him down, "it's not that I don't care, I was mad- I am mad, because you're not the only one who's hurting and..."
He pauses, when Mike sways unsteadily on his feet, eyes brimming with tears, and then, without warning, he stumbles. A quiet, broken sob escaping him and Will just freezes. Mike... crying? He can't remember the last time Mike cried in front of him.
"Mike..." Will murmurs, voice tight as he steps forward and gently wraps an arm around Mike's shoulders to steady him. "It's okay... I've got you."
Mike leans into him, shuddering and letting his tears spill freely now. Will feels the weight of the year of hurt and loneliness, and it crushes him in an instant. He's still mad. Oh, he's so mad but arguing with Mike in this state won't do any good to neither of them.
He presses a hand to Mike's back, rubbing him in slow ad reassuring circles. "Shh... it's okay."
Step by step, Will guides him toward his bedroom, holding him upright as best as he can. Mike's sobs are quiet but they pierce through his heart. His body is trembling with the release he's been bottling up for months.
Once they reach the bed, Will helps Mike sit down. "Mike... we will talk about all of this tomorrow, okay? After you sober up, we will talk. But right now... just rest."
Mike leans his head against the pillow, nuzzling his cheek into the soft fabric that fills him up with even more emotions. It smells just like Will, like comfort. " Will..." he whispers, voice cracking and so soft that Will knows it's just a matter of seconds that he falls asleep.
Will kneels beside the bed, gently slipping Mike's shoes off and tucking the blankets snugly around him. Mike's chest rises and falls unevenly, eyelids heavy and eyelashes wet from the crying. Will watches him for a few quiet minutes, heart aching at how vulnerable he looks.
Finally, he lets out a soft sigh stopping himself from brushing a strand of hair from Mike's forehead. Quietly, he rises and slips from the room to the kitchen.
After grabbing a glass of water and a painkiller, he returns to his bedroom and sets both gently on the bedside table. Careful not to wake him he straightens the blanket one last time and casts a quick glance at his friend.
It hurts. Looking at him hurts, even after everything. Will steps back and then heads to the couch in the living room to curl up under a blanket, exhaustion finally catching up with him. His eyes flutter shut, but sleep feels incredibly heavy with worry and lingering tension, knowing tomorrow they'll have to talk - truly talk. About everything that happened during the year apart.
The morning sunlight filters through the curtains, soft and warm. Mike stirs under the blankets, blinking against the bright light, the memories of last night hazy but lingering somewhere in his mind.
By the time he makes it to the kitchen, Will is standing in front of the stove flipping pancakes with quiet focus. The smell of breakfast fills the apartment, and it makes Mike's stomach clench in familiarity of the situation. It's so comforting.
Mike leans against the doorway, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Thanks for the water... and the painkiller, I needed it," he says casually, as if last night's tears and tension never even happened.
Will flinches slightly at the sudden presence in the kitchen, he didn't even hear Mike's footsteps growing closer. His tone was so light, teasing almost, though Will can hear the faint flicker of vulnerability.
He glances ober his shoulder, brow raised and lips twitching to form an almost smile. "You're welcome," he says. "Slept okay?"
Mike shrugs, sliding a hand through his messy hair that visibly need a comb. "Yeah... I guess," he mutters, eyes flicking to the stove. "You always make breakfast like this?"
For Carlton for example? Mike thinks bitterly. Right. Will has a boyfriend.
Will chuckles lightly and shakes his head as he flips the pancake, muttering a curse under his breath when he notices it's slightly burnt. "Not usually. But I figured you might need it."
Mike hums, leaning causally against the counter as he observes the rest of the process in somehow comfortable silence.
After a few more flips, Will sets the last golden pancake onto a plate. He places it on the table, along with a small portion of butter and a bottle of maple syrup.
They sit across from each other, the morning sunlight spilling onto the table and making the whole scenery look even warmer.
For a few minutes they eat in silence, only the sounds of utensils echoing in the room. Mike takes deliberate bites, eyes occasionally flicking to Will, who watches him in return. Careful, not to let the tension from yesterday's pure chaos spill over just yet.
Mike hums again, more to himself than as a comment, and leans back slightly in his chair as he tries to act casual. Much to Will's shock, Mike launches into a story, his movements almost animated now. He's talking about some ridiculous situation at his college with voice bright and suddenly full of energy.
It's like nothing has happened.
Will listens, nods every now and then and even chuckles lightly at some point- but slowly, his words blur together, and the question that has been nagging at him since this morning presses forward.
His fork trembles slightly in his hand. His stomach twists and he can practically feel his pulse racing in his ears. The sound of Mike's bright voice is somehow both comforting and unbearable right now. His chest tightens with every attempt Mike makes to act like everything is fine.
"-and then the janitor just stared at him like he was insane, and I- oh, and then my roommate tried to-"
"Mike... stop," his hands curl into fists, and his bottom lip quivers when he looks up to meet Mike's gaze.
Mike freezes mid sentence, eyebrows raising and fork pausing in his hand. "What-?"
"Why are you here, Mike?" Will swallows hard, clearing his throat once he feels like his voice wants to crack.
The room falls silent. Mike blinks a few times and his playful, rambling mask just slips for a moment. His eyes darken as uncertainty and something raw flicker behind them, and for the first time this morning, this conversation seems unavoidable.
Mike shifts uncomfortably in his chair, fork tapping nervously against his almost empty plate. "You know... uh, I just came to visit Nancy and, uh- see how things were going and, and stuff," he rambles, voice quick and gaze averted to look at anything other than Will.
His eyes flick to Will for a reaction, then back down at his plate, shoving a piece of pancake into his mouth a little too eagerly.
Will blinks, brows furrowing because the story sounds too forced, not even mentioning that it's barely holding together. "Right..." he mutters, his stomach twists uncomfortably once again. "...and that's the reason you showed up at my door last night?"
Mike laughs, a little too fast and loud. "No! I mean- I mean, yeah? Partly, but not really. I was just... dunno, passing by? Thought I'd check in?"
"Mike."
"But I guess Carlson checks in on you quite often."
And there it is. This bitterness in Mike's voice as he says his name, like it physically hurts him to say it out loud. Will swallows hard, anxiety rising in his chest for the hundredth time since last night.
The words sting, but he keeps his voice steady. "His name is Carlton."
"It doesn't even matter."
"It matters, Mike!" Will's voice cracks softly, the frustration and hurt he's been holding have started to pour out of him, like he's about to burst. "It matters because he's my boyfriend!"
Mike flinches at the sharp edge in Will's voice, he's not used to hearing this tone coming out of his mouth. Especially not directed at him.
He laughs bitterly, a sound that's more like a grimace than amusement. "Yeah, okay. Your boyfriend. Him and you, all perfect and in your own world, that's great."
"You're being a dick, Mike," he swallows hard, struggling to keep his composure as his hands start to tremble.
"A dick?" Mike repeats, voice edged with both guilt and anger. "Yeah... maybe I am. Maybe I have been. But you can't blame me, you just- you don't understand, okay?”
He shifts on his chair with locked jaw, shaking his head as if he was trying to assure Will that it's more complicated than he thinks.
"Then make me understand- you, you can't just waltz back in and act like nothing happened, like you didn't cut me off for no damn reason!"
"I had my reason.”
"You had your reason?" Will's eyebrows shoot up, lips pressing into a thin line as he tries to keep the eye contact with Mike, who's been trying to look anywhere other than Will.
Mike just nods, once. Another beat passes between them with Mike just playing anxiously with his fingers, picking on the dry skin around his already wounded fingertips.
When he keeps quiet, Will decides to just continue. "Do you have any idea how hurt I was when I heard from Lucas that you called him? When Dustin showed me the postcard you mailed to him? At first I was trying to think that maybe you needed some time, that maybe after everything that happened you needed to- I don't know, get used to this new reality, but it's been a year Mike..."
Silence.
"You know, when Vecna showed me that vision I was frightened, and Jesus Christ, I tried so hard to believe he was just messing with me, to break me... but I guess you've proved him right."
Mike's head snaps up at that. His breath stutters, like the words punched right through his chest. "Will-"
"No," Will cuts in quickly, tears burning at the corners of his eyes. "You don't get to interrupt this." His voice shakes despite his efforts to keep it steady. "I kept telling myself that you wouldn't do that. That you wouldn't be cruel. I defended you, Mike... and then you appear at my door, insult my boyfriend and make a fool out of me by acting like everything is fine between us?"
Mike's shoulders slump, the fight draining out of him all at once. He was so close to just spill the truth, to get it over with. "I never meant for that to happen," he says hoarsely. "I swear. I just- every time I thought about calling you, about writing... I felt guilty."
Will's breath hitches. "Guilty about what, Mike?"
"Guilty, because you made it impossible for me to reach out..."
That does it. Will pushes his chair back hard enought that it scrapes loudly against the floor as he stands. "Don't," he warns, voice shaking with anger now. "Do not put this on me."
"I was scared!" Mike snaps, hands curling into fists.
"Scared of what, Mike? Stop talking in riddles, just tell me the truth!" Will's voice takes a desperate turn, he's shaking all over now. "Get out. If you're really going to stand there and blame me for everything, then get out of my apartment. I'm not doing this."
Will turns around and storms out of the kitchen.
Mike stands in disbelief, his voice suddenly louder as words spill out fast and sharp. "She was dead, Will," Mike blurts out, eyes shining with something close to panic. "El was gone, and everyone kept telling me to be strong, to move on, to remember her, and I was trying- I swear I was."
He walks towards the living room, seeing how Will has paused in his tracks. His back still facing Mike, frozen.
"But every time I thought about her... I thought about you too," Mike continues, words spilling out of him like he can't stop them anymore. "And that made me feel sick, like- like I was betraying her just by missing you. Like I was mourning two things at once, in which one wasn't supposed to exist."
His voice rises, almost desperate. "I kept thinking- what kind of person does that make me? What kind of asshole misses his best friend like that when his girlfriend is gone?"
Will's breath catches again. His fingers curl at his sides, nail digging into his palms as the words sink in one by one. Misses his best friend like that.
Will slowly turns around, his mind starts racing, piecing every puzzle together in a way that he would never imagine doing so. The way Mike's voice cracks every now and then cuts through his chest like a knife.
"Mike, you don't mean-" His voice falters, breath shaking like never before. "You cant mean it like that."
"I did love her," he says quickly, like he needs Will to understand that part. "I loved her so much, I still do, she's one of the most important people in my life, she's so special, but..." his voice drops. "But I wasn't... in love with her. Not the way everyone thought I was supposed to be."
Will inhales sharply, unable to move even by a centimeter.
"She knew," Mike continues, swallowing hard. "She knew before any of this happened, we talked about it a lot and she- she felt it too. That something was missing, but we stayed anyway, because it was easy. Because it was safe- it felt better than being alone."
He lets out a bitter laugh. "And then she died. And I felt so guilty, for not loving her like I was supposed to, for having these... feelings, when it feels like it's wrong. Because I couldn't love her like that, so why loving you is so easy?"
Will squeezes his eyes shut. A single tear rolling down his cheek, his hands are trembling now, really badly and he can't do anything to stop it.
"Mike." he breathes out, voice barely there. "you can't just say things like that."
"Why?" Mike asks, pained and also trembling from all the emotions. "Because it makes you uncomfortable?"
"You're talking about grief," he insists weakly not being able to let their eyes meet in a shared look. "You're confused and you're hurting, you don't-"
Mike steps closer, while Will takes a step back, subconsciously. "Fuck it," Mike blurts out suddenly, slowly closing the distance between them even though Will keeps backing away. "For the first time in my life, I actually know what I want."
Will stops breathing for a second. "Mike-"
"Don't you dare tell me I'm confused," Mike cuts him off, eyes wet with unshed tears. "I hated myself for it, I hated you for making me feel like that. I buried it so deep but it's still here... so no- this isn't confusion."
Will's chest tightens painfully, panic and something dangerously close to hope mixing inside him. And it feels so wrong. "Mike..." his voice breaks on his name.
It feels wrong on his tongue right now, heavy with everything he's not supposed to want.
"Mike, I- I have a boyfriend."
Mike flinches, just barely, like the words still manage to sting even after everything. "I know," he says quietly.
"That should matter," Will whispers, face grimacing at the implication of his words. "No, it does matter. He loves me."
Mike swallows, nodding once before parting his lips again. "And do you love him?"
The words hit harder because his voice is so incredibly gently, because Mike isn't accusing him- he's just asking a simple question. Will looks away, jaw so tight that he's afraid his teeth might break.
Mike's eyes darken for just a moment, reading the tension in Will's jaw, the way his eyes can't meet him. That silence, that trembling breath coming out of Will's parted lips, says everything Mike needs to hear.
Without thinking, without any warning, he steps in and closes the distance between them. In one smooth motion, he pins Will against the wall with his hands on his shoulders, and crashes his lips to his.
Will freezes for a heartbeat, caught off guard, before insinct and desire take over and he presses back, just as firmly. His body melts against him, hands shyly raising to clutch as Mike's t-shirt as he loses himself in the kiss.
Mike's lips are insistent, brushing over Will's, teasing, then pressing harder as if trying to claim something he's always known was his.
Will's hands tremble as they grip Mike's biceps, his body swaying against the pressure as the kiss deepens. Teeth grazing over lips in a sharp, almost painful movements. Mike tilts his head slightly, exploring, pulling and tasting every centimeter of Will's mouth.
For a moment, it's like reality hits Will with a strong force. He pulls back, chest raising and falling rapidly as he looks at his friend with blown pupils. "I- I can'-t..." he whispers, an image of Carlton's face flashes behind his eyes. Not because he loves him. That's the thing. He doesn't.
Mike doesn't say a word, he just patiently waits. His eyes wide as well, lips swollen from the kiss and cheeks tinted with a slight pink hue that does something to Will's chest.
He feels it.
He does want this to happen, he has always wanted this.
And then, almost against his own will, Will leans forward again. Their lips meet with renewed force, and this time it's not longer cautious. It's fierce, almost desperate, a collision of years worth of buried longing.
Mike lets out a strangled noise, his hands tightening on Will's waist, pressing him flush against the wall as if he can't bear any space between their bodies.
Will's hands roam, he lets himself explore Mike's body, it's like he's trying to memorize every line, every curve of him. Mike tilts his head once again, biting gently at Will's lip, and the sharp pain only intensifies the fire between them.
Will can barely breathe, can't even remember who he should be thinking about right now. There's only Mike.
When they finally pull back, both of them are gasping for air with foreheads pressed together. Their warm breaths mingling together and heartbeats almost synced. Neither of them can speak, even if they could they wouldn't know what to say after years of mutual and repressed yearning.
The euphoria slowly starts to fade away, Will's chest tightens painfully and he takes a sharp breath in. The panic flares like a spark and floods through him, so he tries to pull back, push Mike away to remind himself this is wrong, but Mike's hands don't let him.
"It's so wrong, Mike," he shakes his head. "This isn't fair-"
"When has life ever been fair to us?" Mike whispers back, his hands still holding onto Will, keeping him from pulling away. His forehead presses closer to Will's and he leans in just slightly to press a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. "We've been running from so many things for so long, I've been running from so many things, I don't want to have any more regrets, Will."
Will swallows hard, chest heaving as he lets his eyelids fall shut. A shiver runs down his spine and his fingers flutter softly against Mike's shoulders. "Jesus Christ..." he breathes, voice trembling. "...don't tell me this is a dream."
Mike chuckles softly, his thumb brushing along Will's jaw. "I'm sorry I hurt you, I know I'm just a self pitying idiot.”
"Mhm, I think I've heard this one before." Now it's Will's turn to let out a soft chuckle, his muscles have finally started to relax, practically melting under Mike's touch.
They stay like that for a little longer, breathing quietly while the tension melts into something warmer. Will leans into Mike just to feel his steady breathing against his neck.
Eventually, Mike shifts gently, guiding them both toward the couch without breaking their closeness. Will lets himself be led, zoning out slightly even as they settle into the cushions.
Will stares at nothing in particular, mind racing from all the rawness of what has just happened.
Mike's hand drifts to rest over Will's, thumb brushing over his knuckles which makes him stop bumping his leg up and down in a nervous tick. "We'll get through this, we will," he murmurs with certainty in his tone. "I don't care how messy it gets or how long it takes... we will figure it out. Together."
Will swallows, looking down at their hands and can't stop himself from smiling at the sensation. It feel like they are back in Mike's basement, promising to each other that if they go crazy, they'll go crazy together.
A beat passes between them, before Mike suddenly snorts making Will snap his head in his direction with a raised eyebrow.
Mike smirks, shaking his head as if he's trying not to spit it out but eventually, he parts his lips. "You know... Carlton would lose it if he saw us like this right now."
Will freezes, eyes wide and lets out a sharp gasp, hand flying upwards to shove Mike just a little. "Mike!" he hisses, cheeks heating up almost instantly.
"I'm serious," Mike says, voice dripping with teasing and leaning in just a little closer. "Okay, okay, fine- I'm sorry, too soon, huh?"
Will tried to glare but can't hide the grin tugging at his lips. "You... you are evil," he whispers, shaking his head and still struggling to keep a straight face.
He feels so giddy right now.
Mike chuckles at his answer, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Will's hand. "Maybe."
Will's grin widens, mischief finally matching Mike's. "If you're lying about any of this, Mike..." he warns, voice low and dangerous, "...I'm going to kill you."
Mike laughs, throwing his head back and leaning against the couch with glistening eyes. "Oh, really? That's a threat? Soooo scary."
Will huffs, still smirking, and pushes himself off the couch, pacing a little as if he's trying to regain some composure- which is, frankly, impossible right now.
"Hey... I'm serious, I never lie. That's exactly why I didn't say anything about pancakes being delicious."
Will stops mid step, hand flying to his chest and lets out a sharp, exaggerated gasp for the second time in a span of few minutes. "You- oh my god! You!" His eyes widen, throat tight with laughter as he grabs one of the couch cushions and tosses it directly at Mike.
The cushion bounces perfectly off Mike's face and lands on the floor with a loud thump. Mike lets out a dramatic groan, pressing a hand to his cheek even though he barely felt it. "I didn't even have time to dodge!"
Will laughs, lunging for another cushion. "Good!" he hisses between giggles as his eyes sparkle with amusement.
Mike catches the cushion just in time, grinning wildly. Without warning, he drops it and grab Will's hand, tugging him close until their forehead bump together.
He freezes, heart hammering as Mike leans in, brushing his lips against his. The world narrows and they are the only people that matter right now, this warmth between them, the rapid beat of their hearts.
Minutes stretch like seconds as the kiss deepens, teasing and tender all at once, until Will pulls back abruptly, cheeks flushed a deep, burning red. "I'm gonna get us something to drink.”
Will swallows hard, stepping back with cheeks still burning. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to steady his racing heart and the little tingle he can feel in his lips. Mike arches an eyebrow, smirk widening as he's clearly enjoying the effect he has on Will.
Will moves toward the kitchen, a smile tugging at his lips that grows wider with every step. His fingers unconsciously brush over his own lips, a soft touch making him remember that Mike's lips were there.
"By the way, Will," Mike calls out from the living room. "Who's Tammy?"
Will can't help it- his lips twitch, then a small laugh bursts out, soft but unmistakably amusing.