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Jonathan kept shooting stares in Will’s direction, gesturing and hinting wildly. His eyes so wide and panicked it almost looked like he was being held at gunpoint. Converse scraping against the concrete as he scooted over to his brother. “Will! Do not spend the night here!” His whispers sharp like a hiss.
“Why not? We need to start the investigation early in the morning!” Will flinched at the strong grip around his shoulders, shaking him back and forth.
“Then go over here early in the morning! I’m telling you. He’s… special.” Jonathan scowled, fingernails way too long to casually bury his grip in his sweater. It poked and prodded his skin, surely leaving small divots.
“Really, I’ll be fine. He seems…” He turned his neck to the side, just in time to catch Murray pointing enthusiastically between the two thirds of the Wheeler siblings. Both of their faces twisted, flexed and hardly containing the discomfort. “Okay.”
“…Fine, but if he says anything weird about you or about Mike just make up an excuse and go to sleep immediately.” He spread his lips thinly, nodding his head down, saying too much and too little at the same time.
“Okay bye. Nancy, come on!” He waved nancy over and got into his car, not giving Will the time to respond. Nancy practically sprinted over, stringing together excuses to her brother. The car disappeared down the road slowly, now only a small dot on the endless highway.
Will approached Murray and Mike again. The latter was flushed in the face, and had eyes flooding with guilt, or maybe anger. Mike’s eyes were always hard to read.
“Follow me, children.” Murray’s breath stunk of alcohol. He hummed, spinning on the heel of his shoe and nearly strutting into his cramped house. Will glanced over at Mike, who was already looking at him, following the retired journalist through the doorway.
His house smelled of smoke, perfume, old leather and strong cleaning products. Decor was eccentric, every piece of furniture so different it somehow went together. The dining chairs were all different in shapes, wood tone and condition. There wasn’t a surface, horizontal or vertical without some piece of paper or picture or post-it-note. The entire house almost felt like stepping directly into Murray’s mind, too chaotic to be an actual living space.
His eyes drifted over to Mike again, the boy used to labeled boxes and organizers, clearing the counters directly after dinner and actually doing some spring-cleaning. Not even attempting to disguise his disgust at the chaos, despite his room mirroring this every other week.
Will was sure his house would look a lot like this if it weren’t for Jonathan, so he tried not to judge. Still, the open folder of police reports clearly labeled classified just hanging out on top of his microwave was wild.
“It ain’t much, I know. Beggars can’t be choosers though.” Murray smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets, sweatpants were stained and frumpy. Clearly waiting for some comment about his house, positive or negative.
“I like the..,” Finding something concrete to comment on was difficult, the entire view was overstimulating and felt like straight noise. Every object mixing together and just resembling a messy, vague house. “The..”
“Nice Stereo.” Mike’s shoulder bumped into Will’s. “Is it Vintage?” He placed his hand on the machine, before pulling it back and staring at his hand with a nauseous expression at the thick coat of dust on his fingers. So dramatic.
“Yes, from the fifties. I don’t trust any repair shop to come near her and I don’t have the heart to throw her out.” His voice melodic and dramatic, like an actor in a musical about to break into song.
“Cool.” Mike’s voice shaky and broken, he’s always been terrible at lying. He easily has the worst poker face out of the party. He still hasn’t moved away.
“You boys hungry, thirsty?” He slid on his socks over to a large shelf, pulling a thick, half empty bottle of Whiskey out of it. More alcohol, he certainly didn’t need it.
Will rejected him immediately. “No.. thanks, we-“
“I could drink.” Will shot him a look. Mike does not drink. He still remembers when Dustin and Max somehow stole a six pack from Steve and Mike was sitting there talking about healthy brain development and alcohol poisoning.
Mike’s been preaching about being the only person who’s actually gonna wait until hes 21 since he was 11. He should not try alcohol for the first time at this guy’s house.
“Ohh, rebelling little Wheeler, never seen that before.” His tone was always so knowing, like an owl, just more unhinged. “You two are a lot like your siblings.”
Mike bit the inside of his cheek, frowning. “Me and Nancy could literally not be any more different.” Does he seriously not see it? “Just.. pour me a glass.” He’s talking like a grizzled cowboy in a shitty western movie, it was painful to watch, even more to hold back his laughter.
Murray looked him up and down, clearly holding back a chuckle himself. He kissed his teeth before pouring the whiskey into the glass, now shifting his attention to Will. “You having any, Byers?”
“Definitely not.”
Mike’s voice cracked. “What?! Come on, live a little.”
“Can’t we just focus on the plan? How are you guys gonna set all this up with me if you’re wasted. And more-so, actually do the mission while you’re hung over for the first time ever? Please.” He finally let the laugh out.
“Mission? Plan? You’re overthinking it, Byers. I’ve got it all clear in my head already.” Murray tapped his forehead, finger resting near his thinning hairline. “You and Wheeler just hang out in the back of the truck, I do my whole delivery driver spiel to the angry soldiers and we get through the gates, simple as that.”
The silence that followed was many levels beyond awkward, Will hated being made to feel dramatic.
“Let the boy drink.” He slid the glass over to Mike, who eagerly picked it up and smirked at Will. Ever since joining Hellfire he’s been acting really weird and rebellious. It was embarrassing more than anything else. Most of his little stunts and acts of rebellion weren’t even anything. Mike still got giddy and riled up by just writing his initials on old desks.
He clearly thought that this new chapter in his life was really cool and edgy. Which it definitely wasn’t.
He maintained eye-contact with Will and downed the whole glass in one go. Completely missing that Will did not think it was cool or baddass of him to drink, considering everyone in the group has been going to parties with him sitting sober and angry in the corner. He also was again, completely unable to hide his disgust. Coughing and groaning as he slammed the glass back down on the counter.
He really was humiliating sometimes.
“That’s top shelf.” Murray just shook his head. Walking over to his couch gesturing for them to sit somewhere between old throw pillows
and the tears in the cushions. Still holding the bottle and now two clean glasses in his hand. Mike looked over at Will, tears in his eyes from choking. “Loser.” Will mouthed, rolling his eyes before sitting down on the edge of the couch.
“That really is just tragic, Michael.” The old man stared, sitting across from them on a whicker chair. Hunched over and clasping his hands around the bottle.
Will chimed in. “And stupid. You can’t even taste it when you just inhale it like that.”
“Shut up.. wait woah.” God he was even faking a slowness to his voice now. He was such a cliché.
“I feel dizzy..” His words slurred together in a forced way, and he started squinting and swaying as he sat right up and down on the couch. Murray just buried his face in his hands and shook his head.
“Idiot, you know well you’re not drunk.” Will shoved him in the shoulder.
“Shut up!” His face bright red now.
“You wouldn’t be able to tell! Just last week you were telling Lucas about how he was throwing away his life after taking one shot.”
“He is! This is different!”
“How?!”
Murray straightened up. “Boys! Spare me the
lovers quarrel!”
Both of them just froze. A literal chill went down his back. Like an actual, palpable chill. Will wanted to look over at Mike so badly, see his reaction, know exactly what he was thinking in that moment. Murray’s face was expecting, unreadable beyond that. It felt stupid, getting such a kick out of being referred to as lovers, it was obviously a joke, a stupid one. His heart still skipped a beat.
Mike bravely started talking. “We’re not.. I mean-“ Actually, more mumbling.
Murray raised his eyebrows, smiling a little.
“..Oh I was just joking.” Smiling more now.
The energy shifted, and Will finally allowed himself to look at Mike. Somehow even redder than before. “Y-yeah, I knew you were joking. I was just.. um, playing along.” Mike rambled, running his hand through the curls near his nape.
“Uh huh..” Murray now fully grinning.
“And,, obviously I.. wanted to make sure you didn’t have the wrong idea like.. uh..” Mike sounded so desperate to convince them. Even Murray who was fully drunk could clock that Mike had no idea it was a joke. He was fighting an uphill battle.
Will tried to ignore the sinking feeling inside at realizing how quickly Mike rejected the idea. Obviously he knew Mike didn’t like him back, but it always hurt to have that validated, proven.
“Right, right. So obviously I’m needed here.” Murray poured two more glasses, sliding one over to Will, who still hasn’t taken him up on the offer.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Mike nervously giggled, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t working.
Will stayed quiet, holding his breath, terrified they’d hear how much he loved him in just the tone of his voice.
“Another Byers-Wheeler situation.. so let me guess.” He brought his own glass to his lips, taking a small sip, droplets hanging from his mustache.
“You,” He pointed at will.
He swallowed deeply.
“Artistic soul, humble beginnings, hopeless romantic, prodigy. Miss your childhood, understandable. Joyce gave me the run down.” Will finally reaching for the whiskey, he could catch Mike’s smile from the corner of his eye. Dork.
“But then this guy.” Now shifting his finger over to Mike. “Grew up a little too fast, and you just wanted to stay boys together a little longer.” How did he get all this right after a few minutes of talking. Will took a big sip into his mouth.
Murray gestured with his full hand as he talked, nearly spilling all over himself. “You move away, have fun in Lenora, any new friends there?”
“No.”
“I suspected so.” Rude. “But you did try right?”
Will shrugged. “None of them as interesting as this guy, right?” He grinned, and Will stayed suspiciously still. He downed the whole thing.
“Right. Then you meet again in Lenora, shit gets too real, Is there.. someone?” He looks over at mike, breaking his storyteller character.
“Uh…” Mike barely opens his mouth.
“There was.” Will adds, both boys now glaring at each other. Will reached for the bottle himself, filling his glass to the rim.
“Mike here, too distracted with that someone to notice you, so you grow angry, bitter, distant. You grow up faster than him as revenge, taking all your mutual friends with you because you’re angry, stupid and young.” Seriously how did he get all this. Will emptied another full glass. It burned in his throat.
“Now you’re angry at him for trying to reach your level, but you feel guilty for not letting him catch up sooner on purpose.” Murray paused, soaking up the dumbfounded expressions on their faces.
”Does that sound about right, William?” He smirked, setting his own glass down, and filling Will’s.
Will just nodded, refusing to look at Mike, who now had his entire body turned towards him.
“What?! This is bullshit! El didn’t-“
“I’m not done.” Murray stopped him. “You, big expectations for you, conservative rich parents, unhappy marriage, terrified of becoming your dad.”
He stopped himself now, catching the flinch on Mike’s face, even Will did.
“Lonnie scared the shit out of you boys didn’t he.” He exhaled deeply.
What did his dad have to do with any of this? Will looked over at Mike, who again was already looking at him, his brain felt fuzzy. He remembered what Jonathan told him.
“if he says anything weird about you or about Mike just make up an excuse and go to sleep immediately.”
“Can I go to bed? You have a guest room?” His legs wobbled underneath him as he stood up. Reaching down to again, swallow his third glass in one go. The journalist looked up at him, slowly nodding. “Yes, you boys wanna share it or should i rig up the pull-out?”
He looked over at his best friend, who was angry and overwhelmed. “I don’t-“
“I can sleep on the couch.” Mike cut him off.
“Alright, the sheets are clean and fresh, Byers. Knock yourself out.” Will left to grab his toothbrush from his backpack in the hallway, Murray’s voice kept thundering through the house, no peep from Mike.
Murray’s bathroom was insanely small, but clean and neat compared to the rest of the house, sure he could hardly see his reflection through dirt, grime, post-it-notes and the blur on his vision from the alcohol. It barely fit a toilet and a sink, but there was empty space here and there. The voices outside of the room had completely disappeared.
Murray definitely was special. Somehow dissecting Will’s brain right before him and narrowly avoiding his secret, was it intentional? If he could somehow tell Will was a hopeless romantic from the thirty minutes they spent together there was no way he couldn’t see it, hear it, smell it on Will’s entire existence.
The door bent and echoed under a sharp knock. “Will, can I come in?” Mike’s voice was quiet, no longer a forcing the undertone of dizziness.
He unlocked the door, which opened inwards. They had to stand in the corner of the room try and close it. Not touching. Mike always smelled sweet and woody, paired with the smell of whiskey on his breath, he was drowning in that overwhelmingly complicated smell.
The door still didn’t close, it caught on Mike’s back every time he tried, common sense dampened by the alcohol. The room was insanely quiet, except for his breath, which was heavy.
Maybe Will was getting a little too brave, or maybe the three glasses had taken control over his hands at that moment, but he snaked his arm around Mike’s waist and pulled him close. Hand wrapped tightly around his side. He shot him a glance before closing the door behind them, his eyes wide and mouth hung open. Will let his arm linger for a second longer before pulling away, Mike didn’t move.
He couldn’t tell if he was disgusted or just surprised. His mouth twitched a little, Will chose to reject any idea of romantic tension before Mike could. “Sorry, I just.. couldn’t stand watching you fail to close that door again.”
“I..” Mike licked his lips. “Sorry,” He took a step back. His gaze was wild and stressed and his eyes were open wide. They both kept glancing around the room, and each other. His face was red again.
“Why did you come in here?” Will walked back to the sink, squeezing toothpaste onto his toothbrush. “I didn’t have toothpaste.” His words dragged out, quiet. He stood next to Will, their eyes meeting in the mirror. The silence was heavy, tense.
He now stared at Will’s hand, still wrapped around the tube. He squeezed some onto Mike’s toothbrush as well, the action more domestic than he intended. They quietly brushed their teeth together, shoulders bumping together and lingering.
Will spat out the foamy paste, wiping the residue on the back of his hand and placing the toothbrush back on the counter. He could still see Mike looking at him through the mirror in his peripheral. He spat out too, and looked down at him with toothpaste dripping down his mouth. Gross.
“Don’t.. think too much about what Murray said, he’s just reading too much into everything.” Mike said this mostly for himself. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“What did he say to you?”
He just bit his lip and looked away, toothpaste running down his chin. Extremely gross. “I.. I had so much to drink I don’t even remember.” Chuckling lightly with every word, it wasn’t believable at all.
He could gather from the redness in mike’s eyes and the dried tears on his cheeks he would remember for a while. Besides, that conversation just ended, he was a terrible liar.
Will hated that even while he looked like this, objectively messy and gross, he was still madly in love. His breath still caught inside him, and he forced every want and need away, deep into his body. His hair was messy, and the warm lighting reflected so perfectly through his dark eyes, showing that deep, vibrant brown color that would only peek through when the light was just right. He wanted to steal just a few more seconds of his time to look at him, admire him, and wipe that nauseating toothpaste off his face.
Mike caught him staring, cracking a shy smile. “What?” He paired a laugh with his playful tone. God, he was so beautiful.
“You have something on your face.”
“Oh,” He sounded almost disappointed. “That’s awkward.”
Will turned around to fish a small sheet from the tissue box on the shelf. Still feeling the eyes on the back of his head. The room was so quiet, except for Mike’s loud breathing. He held the tissue up to him, he didn’t move. Gaze flickering between Will and his outstretched hand.
Mike’s breath hitched as he moved closer, lifting the tissue to his face, giving him a few seconds to reject him, back away, snap the tissue from his hand, loudly protest. Silence. He just looked into his eyes with his mouth slightly open, waiting.
Will made sure his touch was feather-light, nearly ghosting over his chin. Skin warm, soft, at least through the thin paper. Both breathing patterns speeding up, the rise and fall their chests more dramatic, inconsistent. Will wanted to place his other hand on his cheek, it would be easier that way. But this might already be too far. He couldn’t read Mike’s mind or tell what he wanted.
He pulled away, halting in his step when Mike’s hand pushed against his back, it quickly dropped. “Better.” Voice shakier than he intended, knowing he probably looked so embarrassing right now. Life altering crush written all over his face. The crush in question nodded slowly.
The air was somehow more tense than before. Mike must be really drunk, he shouldn’t read too much into what he’s doing. He probably couldn’t tell Will apart from a lamp in this state. “I’m sorry for mocking you earlier, that was shitty of me.” It felt so unnatural to bring it up after what just happened. The room felt so much tighter than before.
“It’s okay.” Nearly a whisper, a smile caught on his lips. His tall frame stepping forward, closer. He casted an unsure glance over Will's eyes, and somewhere just below, before reaching behind him to grab the door handle. The two pushed together in the corner again, Will silently thanking the terrible architects that designed it. He pressed his chin against Mike's chest, getting greedy and stupid. The fabric of the sweater was rough and bumpy, and he could hear and feel his heartbeat. Much quicker than his own. Mike rested a hand on Will's back as he opened the door, he knew it was just to make sure he had room to open it, but it still sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach.
“There.” Mike licked his lips, nervously clearing his throat. “Why would the door open inwards, so stupid.” His laugh was so forced and quiet. As if it physically hurt. Will looked up at him early enough to catch Mike’s expression shifting and fading. Forming into something more scared as his eyes were glued to something right behind Will.
“Well, well.” Murray’s voice sounded behind him. “Make yourself at home, I suppose..”
“Your door is backwards.” Will scoffed, turning his head. Silently defending Mike from the weird assumptions Murray was likely cooking up in his head.
“Oh, you want me to move your sheets to the guest bedroom, still?” Murray smirked, staring right into Mike’s very soul. Will’s eyes flickered between them, watching both of their faces grow more and more exaggerated.
Mike reached for the back of his head. “I, uh,”
”Didn’t talk to him, huh?”
“Talk to me about what?” Will chimed in.
”Nothing.” Mike quickly added.
“Everything.” The grin on Murray’s mouth was somehow audible.
Mike’s eyes bore into Murray, cheeks darkening fast.
“Murray just told me to talk to you about some stuff, but it doesn’t seem like the right time.” Emphasizing every word while baring his teeth, eyes never leaving the drunk old man across from him.
”What about this is the wrong time? Far away from home, a couple drinks down your throats, tension already established. Add some history and bickering and you got the setup for a damn romance movie.” Murray rambled, taking a second to revel in his dramatic wording before adding, “Oh wait, you already got all that.”
Will didn’t know what to think, choosing to just observe and try and keep his racing mind from escaping the frames of reality. Mike was his best friend who only had platonic feelings for him, anything else was alcohol and his own imagination. Looking for hints and signals just made his head hurt.
“Just get it over with.” Murray winked at Mike, giving a small wave before leaving his spot outside the bathroom.
Will held his breath, trapping the boy that wanted to ask a billion questions and get his hopes up deep inside him. He took a step away from mike, again being brought to a halt by his hand lingering just behind his back. Only this time, it didn’t drop to his side again.
“Let’s.. go to the room and talk about this instead.” Mike mumbled quietly, squeezing past Will and disappearing into the guest room. Will followed, locking screams inside of his throat
With the door locked behind him, and maybe it was the illusion of privacy, or the concentration of alcohol in his blood. But he felt hopeful. So hopeful he shot mike a smile before sitting down on the bed, letting that little boy crushing on his best friend at least enjoy his last breaths before Mike stepped on his heart all over again.
”What were you gonna tell me?” Will watched in awe as Mike sat next to him, his knee bumping into the other, he didn’t move it.
“..A lot.”
“Take your time.”
”I’m sorry.” Mike let out a defeated laugh, letting his body fall back on the double bed. “I just have no idea where to start.”
His words ignited more of that sickeningly sweet hope inside of him. Obviously he knew Mike was just going to vent his frustrations or rant about Murray, but his tone spoke so much more.
”I..” He looked up at Will from where he was lying, eyes big and dark. “Don’t sit so far away.” Mike nervously chuckled, yanking on Will’s shirt and pulling him down to lay beside him. The action was so playful and innocent, he hadn’t seen mike from this angle since they were little kids at a sleepover. The side of his cheek pressed up against patterned duvet covers.
He rolled over to his side, facing will. Curling up slightly, tucking himself together. “Do you remember anything from that night, when you were possessed by the Mind Flayer?”
That stung, he didn’t expect to be reminded of one of the most painful periods in his life. He tried to hide the ache in his face. “Uh.. kinda? You mean when we went to those tunnels and I almost died?”
“No, in the shed, you talked to us with morse code?” His voice was so much softer that usual, and his fingers idly picked at the fabric of the covers.
“Oh yeah, No not at all. I only know what you guys told me.”
Mike seemed a little defeated, looking away and spreading his lips thin. “Jonathan told me you cried.” Will teased.
”Well, I thought you were dying, so of course I was.” Mike rolled his eyes, pushing will’s shoulder softly. Looking into his eyes and clicking his tongue in playful frustration. “Well, I told you.. about the first time we met, and I think about your face that day all the time. It’s like burned on the back of my eyelids.”
He never really spoke about his feelings, so it was weird listening to Mike wear his heart on his sleeve like this. Alcohol really coaxed something different out of him than he expected.
“I think about your face a lot.” His eyes widened a little and his mouth flung open.
“I mean! Uh, your face.. that fall. You know?”
He was so cute when he got embarrassed it almost made Will angry. As if he needed clarification, of course Will knew what he really meant.
“You looked at me all different, and I thought you were mad at me or… something close. I was so scared, and then when the doctors told us about you and your brain I got even more scared.” His finger now managing to pull out a thread from the cover, tugging it. “I’m glad I stayed with you for as long as I did, but it was really scary. Watching you change.”
Will never considered how traumatic that would be for Mike to experience. In his defense he never considered much about that fall. It was practically ripped out of his mind.
“Especially in your shed, I remember the way you turned towards me when I started talking. I could still see you behind the monster, but it was in such small glimpses.” The thread slowly left the loops, unweaving under Mike’s grip. “It felt like you were really fighting, I thought it was brave.”
Mike didn’t even leave pauses for Will to react, and his gaze left him completely. “But anyway, what I told you in the shed, I meant everything. Becoming your friend is the best thing I’ve ever done.” He sounded more stern, now completely unraveling the cover, letting small glimpses of the duvet itself peek out.
“And I think… that’s why I think it’s so hard to talk to you sometimes, because you mean so much to me, I can’t ever tell what I want.” He swallowed.
”It’s like.. ten years of the most important friendship of my life is always at risk because I keep messing up.” His eyes finally drifted to Will’s, his eyebrows tilted upwards and tense.
Will nodded, realizing he has barely said a word since the door shut.
“Am I even making sense? I feel like I’ve been talking for hours but nothings being said.”
“I understand.”
”You always do.” Mike smiled. He looked so handsome like this, it was ridiculous.
“Anyway, like Murray said, we’ve been growing up in different paces and.. it’s hard. We used to always be on the same page and agree on everything, never fighting, lying, getting each other hurt. It was just simple.” Will felt every word he said deep in his core, it was so refreshing to hear all his thoughts told back to him. Well, all except one.
”And.. I’d be lying if I blamed all our problems on that.” Mike sighed, inching closer to will. His heart began to rush, he knew what mike meant, he kept saying friends over and over again. He kept having to remind himself he meant everything platonically. It was just so nice to hear him say us and our, he couldn’t think straight.
“I’ve been really confused…” He began, clearly stuck in his own head. “I don’t know how to say this.”
He looked into Will’s eyes, with intent. His dark eyes so perfectly illuminated by the beside lamp, lips slightly parted, curls perfectly framing his angular face, he looked painterly. Will balled his hands into the soft fabric of the covers and silently memorized exactly how Mike looked in this fleeting moment, everything from the soft shadows near his cheekbones and the bright highlights in his hair. Already overwhelmed by the idea of sitting down and drawing him. They lie there facing eachother, feet dangling off the side of the bed. This scenario, this whole night, it really did feel like a cheesy romance movie, despite the very well established friendship Will kept having to remind himself of.
"Try." Will softly smiled, elated to catch the expression returned.
"I... You know you're my best friend."
"Of course." He knew all too well, a pathetic mix of sadness and guilt settled in his stomach. Burrowing and digging through his insides. He fought the tears welling up back at bay.
"And you'll stay my friend no matter what?"
"Yes," Will grinned, words burning in the back of his throat. Knowing he had no choice but to accept that's all they'd ever be.
"...Okay," Mike bit his lip, scooting a little closer to Will. "I'm just gonna man up and say it."
They both held their breaths, staring into each other's eyes, dripping with nerves and unease. Mike's hand was aggressively trembling, and he looked like a deer in headlights. It hurt that he looked so beautiful even now, when he was preparing himself to break Will's heart.
"I think I like you."
Will tried not to laugh, show too much emotion, knowing he couldn't possibly have heard that right. Mike was likely drunk and just wording his feelings terribly, he told himself. But that seemed just as unlikely, Mike was making fine sense just moments ago. He looked so serious, so scared. Could it really be?
He realized he had been quietly staring for way too long, suddenly feeling how far his jaw dropped.
"...Really?" That was definitely an answer. Mike avoided his glare, his face scrunched together and dappled in warm tones.
"Yes. I like you." He said with a much more assured intonation, emphasising every syllable.
Will could legitimately feel his heart start to race. He didn't know what to say, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. How does he answer that without completely damping the moment, he could feel by the tightness in his throat whatever words that came from his lips next would be squeezed right out of him and come out all high pitched and shaky.
He chose to wait until he could trust his vocal cords, letting his smile grow as big as it could, before hesitantly placing his hand around Mike's. It was sweaty and shivering, but it was Mike's. He smiled back, eyes glossy and brimming with light.
"I like you too." He should've waited longer, voice cracking at the you.
Mike lunged forward, enveloping Will in his slim arms, hugging him with all his might. He sat up straight, bringing Will with him, the hug was awkward and way too intense. Both of them just desperately clinging onto each other, limbs propped up and tense in the clutter. Somehow it was the nicest feeling Will has ever felt. "Shit, I was so scared, I thought you would hate me." Mike softly sobbed into Will's shoulder.
"That's insane." Will laughed, attempting to hide his crying behind the chuckle. Mike's thumb gently stroking the ridge of his back let him know he failed. Will returned the action, immediately feeling Mike melt into the uncomfortable mess that was their hug. He could already feel his arm getting sore tomorrow.
"I would never hate you. I thought I made it painfully obvious I liked you." Will bumped his head softly against Mike's, slowly noticing how long it's been since they hugged for longer than a few seconds, maybe they never have.
"I didn't catch that." A soft, strained laugh echoed through the words. Mike pulled away slightly, the look on his face was genuinely unbelievable. He doesn't know if he's ever seen him smile as big as this, and the tears welling up into his eyes just made them look even more shiny and round. Will couldn't help himself to not reach his hand out and wipe the single tear running down Mike's face. He could hear his breath hitching in his chest. Letting his hand rest at the side of his face, always wanting to trace his thumb across the sharp edges covering it. Internalizing the shape of it for his sketchbook.
Mike licked his lips, swallowing sharply before mirroring Will's hand. His touch was light and gentle, just barely touching him. His eyes dipped down to his lips, followed by another swallow. The silence that previously was so comfortable somehow turned heavy, much more being said in between words. Will can't remember ever getting his face held like this, confidence doomed by the knowledge of how much more Mike knew about this stuff. Will's experience with love is close to nothing, nearest he's ever been to a relationship being that one girl at the snow ball he didn't even want to dance with. Mike's kissed before. He was so scared of messing up, but wanted it so badly.
Mike's smile was timid and unsure as he spoke, grip on Will's face slowly firming. "Can I kiss you?" He drug out the vowels.
His temples felt like they were ready to blow any minute, he could swear the temperature inside his head grew at least ten degrees.
The whiskey still running wild in his system nodded his head for him, barely getting the time to mentally register what was about to happen before Mike's face knocked into his. Foreheads and noses awkwardly colliding and lips just missing each other.
Will mumbled something adjacent to every curse-word he knew, somewhat relieved to hear the dry laughter erupting from Mike.
"Don't turn your head the same way as me!” He barely got the sentence out through the giggles.
"I've never done this before." More of a grunt than an actual reply. Turning his head slightly, feeling heat radiate off the tips of his ears.
"Let me." Mike smirked, an ironically chivalrous tone ringing through Will's ears as the second hand reached his face. Gently directing and micromanaging the angle of it. He could easily imagine Mike's thoughts, picturing him genuinely thinking something like 'Here goes nothing' before leaning in.
The first kiss was completely different than how it's described in movies, it's not magical or epic with a dramatic score in the background. It's awkwardly figuring out where to put your hands, not knowing when it's okay to breathe, when to move your lips, if you should keep your eyes closed the whole time or if you should be slowing down or if you're wasting time. It's silent except for apologetic giggles and breathless inhales between sharp smacking noises. Despite the contrast, he felt warmth ignite inside him every time he felt Mike's hand try to tuck his hair behind his ear. Every time he opened his eyes and caught Mike staring. Every time he imagined telling the little kid listening to The Clash with his brother he'd one day be kissing his best friend in a strange man's guest bedroom.
He pulled away without warning, accidentally embarrassing Mike as he went in for a kiss with the air between them. He tried to keep calm until now, but it was all so overwhelming and it hit him just now he just had his lifelong crush reciprocated. Looking at Mike, blushing deeply and smiling wide knowing he just had his first kiss felt like a strange daydream.
He gently tucked a curl behind Mike’s ear, burying his hand in his hair. “This is nice.” Immediately regretting his words, it was more than nice, and exclaiming it like you’re watching the sunset is too everyday for what just happened. He earned a laugh from Mike if that was anything.
“Yeah, so I don’t suck completely?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never kissed anyone.” Will smiled, catching a glimpse of his watch. It was nearly two in the morning. “Shit, I totally lost track. We should sleep.”
Knowing well he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep after what just happened.
Attempting to sit up in the bed, he was stopped by Mike’s tight grip around his waist, he swear he could feel a jolt of electricity running up to his heart.
Mike looked up at him with that disgusting puppy dog expression that didn’t even work. Will thought as he sat back down without a second thought.
“I’ve been waiting to kiss you for like four years, Will.” Mike grinned, placing his other hand on his jaw.
“That long?”
”Yeah, just give me like, two more minutes.”
Before Will could repeat his question Mike’s lips met his again, more confidently this time. Smiling and silently giggling against his mouth. Will still had no idea where to put his hands, just bracing them flatly on the others legs for support.
After what only felt like two more seconds Mike pulled away again, smile somehow stretching bigger across his face. “Alright alright, I’ll let you sleep.”
Will stood up, Mike following suit. They changed into pajamas with their backs turned against each other. Room completely hushed except for the sound of quiet rustling of fabric and Mike catching his breath.
“Can I turn around?”
“Yeah.”
Will smiled, crawling under the covers, lying farther away from mike than he initially intended. The room was pitch black and he could hear Mike toss and turn. Mike’s hand bumped against his shoulder.
“Why are you so far away?”
Mike pushed closer until his head landed on Will’s shoulder. Wrapping his arm around his side and burying his face into the soft cloth of his sweatshirt. Mike was way too long to be resting his head on his chest, ending up having to tuck his legs to fit on the bed. Will sometimes wondered if Mike’s spine was more similar to a cat than a human, considering all the weird positions he would sleep in.
Will rested one of his hands on Mike’s back, the other planted in his messy curls, fingers gently running through the strands.
”Goodnight, Will.”
”Goodnight, Mike.” Will hesitated for a second before pressing a kiss on the crown of his head, and nearly melting into the mattress at the sleepy hum that escaped him.
He drifted off knowing Murray would immediately clock everything once they woke up.