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“And you still think we can still be friends?” Will's voice was soft, he was sincere in wanting to know the answer, though he knew the response wouldn't satisfy him.
“Friends?” A scoff escaped the other's mouth. “Nah. No thanks.” The response was blunt. If there was anything other than sarcasm laced in his voice it was diluted out. This didn't come off as much of a shock, maybe a bit of a wound to the heart though. Mike gave a sort of cocky look, but faltered for a moment.
Will, who had been staring Mike down from the moment he responded, caught the slip. He was first pained and almost frustrated by the response, but he turned curious. A nauseous pit followed in his stomach, he stood up straighter and was suddenly more aware. Mike had caught his attention, more than usual. The gears in Will’s head started to turn, what was that? What could have possibly made him shift like that? What was it he said again? Not friends…so maybe it was…something…else?
The cocky mask Mike wore had fallen for only for a second, but what it was replaced by was strange to Will. It wasn't some form of mocking or belittling clearly, but it didn't seem playful either. It was almost sincere. It was almost weak. Was he reading into it too deeply?
Mike already put on his stupid grin again, if he wasn't so obsessive, Will might've even been convinced he was seeing things when it happened. He shifts closer.
“What do y-”
“Best Friends.”
Will stops. Not his sentence, that was just Mike's fault. He stops moving, hearing, breathing. He stops.
“...What?”
“Best Friends.”
What the fuck was Mike Wheelers problem. He couldn't be serious, could he? What was this fucking response? The second ‘What’ Will had asked was less clarification and more disbelief. Best Friends. Okay. So what was that falter? What was that gaze? What were those looks he gave, those moments they shared?
Mike leaned on the metal fence, completely relaxed. The stupid grin had softened into a regular, absent minded smile. He stared at Will, who started to look a little odd. The tension once there had been replaced with a relentless silence. Even the cool night breeze had stilled around them. Will looked blue, not metaphorically, he just happened to be so pale the dark blue light replaced his skin tone. It made him look sickly. Mike took mental note of that. The lack of cool breeze made both of them suddenly aware of the evening heat.
Though Mike shifted a little, comfortable in the sitting tension, Will held still, like a deer freezing before a semi-truck. His eyes wouldn't leave Mike. In his head, the million thoughts and curses made it feel like hours had passed of them standing there, facing each other, with each other, together. The togetherness was a fantasy. Mike only now started to blink at Will in acknowledgment.
Will took a step forward, and another followed. From there only a few awkward shuffles were necessary to get uncomfortably close to Mike, seeing him face to face but not quite eye to eye. The proximity became obvious, Will did it purposefully, he wanted to be closer to Mike's body, he could feel their bodies heat more against each other, the blue color of his face and neck turned purple.
Mike couldn't have been more uncomfortable, he pressed up against the icy metal behind him, which sent chills throughout his body. Still he felt himself get hot, his mouth was suddenly dry, and his knees weak. The grip he had on the fence bars tightened. He tried to look away but he could look anywhere but Will's face, even then it was a struggle to look him in the eyes.
Will wouldn't stop, his hands finding Mike's shoulders, a tense and reckless hold on him. It would've been painful if not for Will's soft hand. Mike feels sweat start to pool on his face, grimy and disgusting. His still dry throat forces down the little saliva he had left to swallow, hard. The touch of cold skin on his now burning warmth made his shoulder fall from their tense state. A quick breath tightens the air in his chest.
Will's hands start to inch higher up, moving from his shoulders to his neck with a tight grip. Mike gasps silently. This makes him pause for only a second, his eyes moving back to Mike's eyes after being vehemently stuck on his throat. His hand moved up to cup his face gently.
“Will, what…are you doing?”
“Shut up.”
Mike didn't protest much, letting his hands fall to his side from the defensive position he had in front of his chest. His lip was shaking, a feeling in his stomach was tingling all the way up to his chest, and now his cheeks which Will held ever so delicately. Though he had listened to the command, a sudden urge to talk had overcome Mike.
“What's uh…going on there, Will?”
Will's eyes had again shifted away from Mike's eyes and onto his lips, or his throat, it had flickered between the two. He meets his eyes again.
“Best Friend?”
“...Fuck you, Mike.”
“Wha…Will?”
In a sudden move, Will ripped his hands from the gentle hold of Mike’s face and struck them at his chest with a violent force.
…
THUD