Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Leaving Hawkins was the best thing Will could have done. Between Jane’s death and Mike’s seeming rejection, there was nothing left for him there.

It had been a year since he started his college life. He met great people, found two solid friends, his grades were good, and best of all, he had a room to himself.

Well, kind of. He had a roommate, but he barely ever saw him. The guy usually stayed with his girlfriend in the dorms across campus, leaving the room entirely to Will.

Will was awoken by three loud knocks. He slid out of bed, stumbling over his own feet as he made his way across the room. A voice came from the other side of the door.

“Come on, Will, Can you go any slower?” The female voice was small but fierce, sharp with impatience like she’d been standing outside the door for 20 minutes.

“I’m coming,” Will mumbled, dragging a hand through his hair as he tried—and failed—to tame the wild mane.

He opened the door, and before he could get a word out, a fiery redhead stormed into the room, 2 cups of coffee in both hands.

“Do you know how late it is?” she demanded, placing the cups onto the nearest table.

“Uhhh, I don’t—” was all Will managed before she launched into her rant.

“It’s ten in the morning, Will, You should have been up.” She paced from the window—positioned above a small desk—to the opposite wall, the distance barely worth calling pacing.

“Okay, Amanda, calm down. It’s not that serious,” the hazel-eyed boy said, throwing his hands into the air.

“Not that serious?” She stopped in the middle of the room. “It’s the first day of summer. We have so much to do before the school year starts again.”

Will let out a soft laugh as he picked up one of the coffee cups from the table. He climbed back onto his bed, sitting cross-legged as he took a sip.

“You do know it’s, like, three months until school starts back up,” he said, peering over the rim of the cup.

“Literally, how can you be so calm right now?” Amanda threw her arms up before turning and plopping down in the chair at the tiny desk.

“Well, what do you have planned?” Will asks, setting the cup down on the nightstand. He leans onto his left elbow, waiting for her answer.

“Well, there are gonna be parties practically every night, and we’re definitely going to all of them,” she says, buzzing with excitement.

“Ugh, partying all summer?” Will flops onto his back, folding his hands over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling. “Can’t we just walk in the park or go to that new art museum or something?”

“Absolutely not. You need to socialize—get out, meet people, make more friends than just me and Carlton.” Amanda pushes herself out of the chair and plops down next to Will, copying his position.

“Who knows,” she adds with a grin, poking his cheek, “maybe you’ll even find someone… like a boy.”

Will jerks his head away, frowning. “I’m fine, Amanda. I don’t need to find someone,” he says quickly, sitting up a little. “And it’s not like I don’t have friends. I just don’t want to spend the entire summer at loud, sweaty parties.”

“You have, like, two friends, Will. How are you gonna survive college with two friends?” Amanda says, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers.

“I survived a year with just you and Carlton. I’ll be fine,” Will says with a grin, playfully pushing Amanda off the bed.

“Plus, I still have my friends from Hawkins,” he adds, his voice softening as he glances at the phone on his bedside table. “Speaking of… I have spoken to them in awhile.”

Will stares at the phone for a moment, a quiet mix of hope and longing in his eyes, as if holding onto whatever connection he has left with the party.

“I don’t want to ruin your romantic moment with the phone,” Will scoffs, closing his eyes and shaking his head at the girl.

“But the first party is night, and last time I checked, you’ve never been to a party,” Amanda says, pushing herself up from the floor.

“So I’m gonna assume your outfit selection is absolute garbage,” she teases, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

“My outfits are perfectly fine,” Will says, hand over his chest, mock-serious. Will’s outfits fine. They’re just… normal. Not flashy. But not drab either.

Amanda laughs, shaking her head. “We are going shopping as the first activity of the summer,” she announces, a grin plastered across her face, hands on her hips like she’s just invented the best idea in the world.

Will groans dramatically, but a small part of him perks up. Maybe it won’t be so bad… maybe this could be fun.

“Guess I better shower then.” The girl gives a quick nod as Will pushes himself up from the bed.

He heads to his dresser, pulling out a plain black shirt, underwear, a yellow-and-blue striped flannel, some light blue jeans, and a towel. He pauses halfway to the bathroom, turning back with a small, mischievous pout. “Can you check my mailbox while I shower?” His big hazel eyes make it almost impossible to say no.

“Okay, but hurry up—we need to go, like, right now,” the auburn-haired girl says, already spinning toward the door before closing it behind her.

Steam filled the bathroom, curling up toward the ceiling as Will let the hot water run over him. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back, letting the warmth wash over the tension he’d carried all morning.

Just a shower, he thought. Just five minutes of peace before Amanda drags me into whatever else she has planned.

He lathered his hair, scrubbing absently, but his mind kept wandering. His friends from Hawkins, the calls he hoped would come, the sense of being both free and… adrift. It’s only been a year, he reminded himself. It’s not like I’ve lost them. But it feels weird… distant.

I wonder how they’re doing.

I wonder how mike’s-

Before he can go any deeper in thought a faint knock on the bathroom door pulled him back to reality “Will? You done yet?” Amanda’s voice was impatient, just loud enough to make him flinch under the water.

“Almost!” he called back, the sound of his own voice muffled by the shower. How’d she get back so quick, he thought, smirking despite himself.

Will finished rinsing off, the water cascading over his shoulders one last time before he reached for a towel. He dried off, wrapping it around his waist, and gave his reflection a quick once-over.

Hazel eyes met his own, a quiet question lingering there.

Will they call?

The phone on the nightstand buzzed faintly behind the door — not a call yet, just a reminder, a reminder that a phone works both ways.

I don’t want to bother them, what if they’re busy.

Will groaned, pushing the infectious thought down while tugging on his jeans then He slipped into his shirt and finally He grabbed his flannel, shrugged into it, and stepped out, bracing himself.

Amanda was already leaning against the doorframe, a grin plastered across her face. “Finally! Come on, slowpoke. Also you got a letter, I put on the desk over there.”

Amanda admits before walking out the dorm room.

“Wait up” he shouts, tying his shoes. And scurrying out the door behind her. `

The drive to the mall was filled with Amanda’s excited chatter about stores, outfits, and, of course, the upcoming parties. Will nods along, but his mind kept drifting to other topics.

Amanda cuts the engine and hops out of the car.

The wind blows her fiery red locs into her face as she walks toward the mall entrance, Will following close behind.

“Remind me why we need to go to parties?” Will asks, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

Amanda doesn’t slow. “Because you need a social life out side of me”

“I have a social life.” Argues once again with a mutter

She glances back at him with a grin.

The automatic doors slide open, warm air and noise spilling out to meet them.

Amanda stops just inside the entrance and looks over at him. “Okay, we need an outfit for you. And I need a new dress.”

“You have plenty” Will says.

She raises a brow.

“But you could always use more.” he amends.

Amanda grabs will’s arm and turns, heading deeper into the mall.

They reach the first store, and Amanda practically drags him inside. “Okay, rules of summer shopping: no brooding, no complaining, and definitely no ugly clothing” she says, already eyeing a couple of clothing pieces.

Will raises an eyebrow, half amused, half exasperated. “And what happens if I break these rules?”

Amanda smirks, holding up a glittery hat. “Then I get to pick out an embarrassing outfit you have to wear to the party.”

Will groans, throwing his head back, but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips.

Amanda grabs his hand, tugging him toward more racks. “Come on, Will. Maybe you should try this one on.”

She holds up a black shirt, a blue album cover plastered right in the center, the word Nirvana hanging just beneath the picture.

“I’m more of a The Cure type of guy,” Will says, fingers tugging at the hem as he leans in for a better look.

Amanda sighs and slips the shirt back onto the rack before moving farther down the aisle.

“So,” she says, eyes scanning the clothes, “when am I gonna learn more about these Hawkins friends?”

There’s a pause—just long enough to feel awkward. The question catches Will off guard. He hadn’t told her about the party, even though they’d been friends for almost a year.

“Well…” Will starts, gaze dropping to the floor as he thinks. “There’s Max. She’s a redhead. Like you.”

A soft laugh escapes him. “You two are actually pretty similar. Same short temper.”

Amanda smirks, pulling a cute top from the rack and draping it over her arm.

“Then there’s Dustin,” Will continues, warming up as he talks. “He’s the brain of the group. Really funny too—but not the joker of the group.”

“Is he cute?” Amanda asks, turning toward him, suddenly more interested.

“Uh… I guess?” Will shrugs. “He’s more of a friend vibe, though.”

She nods once and turns back to the rack, flipping through hangers again.

“Then,” Will says, hesitating, “there’s Mike.”

The excitement drains from his voice.

“Yeah, I know all about that one,” Amanda cuts in. “You wouldn’t shut up about him the first month we were friends.”

Silence settles between them.

“Which was hell, by the way,” she adds, pressing her index and middle finger to her temples.

“Sorry,” Will mutters, giving her the same apologetic look he always does, even as a small smile pulls at his lips.

“Seriously, though,” Amanda says, heading toward the dressing rooms, “why are you still friends with him?”

“Well, probably because he’s been my best friend since, like, childhood?” Will replies, sarcasm slipping into his voice as he follows her.

“Right,” she says flatly.

She shoves a handful of clothes into his chest.

“Where did these come from?” Will asks.

Amanda just smirks and pushes him into the dressing room.

“Finish telling me about your friends,” she says, inspecting her nails.

There’s some shuffling behind the door before Will’s voice pipes up again.

“Oh—uh—there’s Lucas,” he says. “He’s actually the joker of the group.”

Amanda absentmindedly hums as Will continues to talk.

“Other than Mike, he’s actually my closest friend,” Will says, pushing the dressing room door open.

There he stands—white shirt fitted neatly across his frame, a black leather jacket draped casually over one shoulder like he hadn’t overthought it at all.

Amanda’s hum dies off.

Her eyes flick up, then linger.

“Well,” she says slowly, one brow arching as she crosses her arms, “look at you.”

Heat creeps up Will’s neck. He shifts his weight, suddenly very aware of the way the shirt fits, of the way she’s looking at him.

“Is it—too much?” he asks, tugging at the hem.

“No,” Amanda says, a smirk pulling at her lips. “It’s… perfect.”

Will exhales, something close to relief mixing with embarrassment as he ducks his head.

Amanda pays for will’s outfit and they’re out the door.

The bell above the door jingles as Amanda pushes into the next store, Kate bush thumping softly through the speakers. The air smells like perfume and fabric softener, and the lighting is way brighter than it needs to be.

“All right,” she says, clapping her hands once. “My turn.”

Will follows her in, a bag sat on his arm from the previous store. “What kind of outfit are we hunting for?”

“Something bold but also something careful ” Amanda replies without missing a beat.

Will hums thoughtfully. “That narrows it down to… literally nothing?”

She shoots him a look.

“Wow. If looks could kill you’d be dead, Byers.” a voice calls from farther in the store.

Amanda looks up and breaks into a grin. “Carlton!”

Carlton is leaning against the counter, arms crossed, wearing his usual effortless confidence like it’s part of the uniform. He pushes off the counter and walks toward them.

“I was praying you’d show up,” he says. “Store’s been boring without your rampant commentary.”

Will smiles.

Amanda laughs, already drifting toward a rack of dresses. “We’re looking for something for me. Be honest, but not mean honest.”

“No promises,” Carlton says. He eyes her, then glances at Will. “You helping, or just here for emotional support?”

“Both,” Will answers. “I really wish I was in my bed right now though.”

Carlton snorts. “Of course you do.”

Amanda pulls a dress from the rack and holds it up against herself. “Thoughts?”

Will tilts his head, considering. “It’s cute, but it feels… safe.”

Carlton nods. “Yeah. You wear that when you’re trying to fade into the background.”

“Wow ok,” Amanda says, but she puts it back anyway.

She grabs a red backless dress next—bold, simple, impossible to ignore—and holds it up.

Will’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh.”

Amanda looks between them. “Oh, what?”

Carlton grins. “There it is.”

“That one,” Will says cuts in, “feels like you.”

“And,” Carlton adds, “it would absolutely turn heads.”

Amanda smiles, clearly pleased. She makes her way toward the dressing rooms.

Carlton watches her go, then leans closer to Will. “You realize she’s gonna make us wait forever, right?”

Will nods. “We’ll be here for hoursss,” he drags out the s as he rolls his eyes.

Carlton chuckles, nudging their shoulders together.

From the dressing room, Amanda’s voice calls out, “I can hear you both!”

Will and Carlton exchange a grin.

There’s a few beats of silence. Neither of them wants to speak, worried they might accidentally cut the other off.

Will sways slightly, his shoulder brushing lightly against Carlton’s, who doesn’t seem to mind.

“So… there’s this party tonight,” Will starts, fidgeting with the sleeve of his flannel as he stares at the ground, “and Amanda and I are going.”

“And you want to know if I’m going?” Carlton finishes for him, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

Will nods slowly, smiling despite himself.

“Well… I wasn’t planning on it,” Carlton says, stepping a little closer, “but I guess I’ll go… since you asked.”

“Technically, I didn’t ask,” Will says, stepping back with a smirk.

“Then I guess I can’t go,” Carlton replies, crossing his arms and stepping back dramatically.

Amanda swings the dressing room door open.

“Please, get a room. This is ridiculous,” she says, walking up to Will.

“I already invited him—he’s coming,” she adds, pressing a hand to his shoulder.

Will groans and facepalms. “Of course you already invited him.”

Carlton grins. “There’s no way you think I’d miss your first party.”

“So it’s actually not that big of a deal,” Will says, walking to the counter, with Amanda and Carlton following close behind.

Carlton goes to the register as Amanda lays her dress across the counter for him to scan.

“Oh, look, Will.” Amanda picks up a silver ring with a yellow star in the middle. “This is totally your vibe.”

Will slides the ring onto his index finger and stares at it longingly.

“It’s on the house,” Carlton says, smiling.

“Really?” Will asks, crossing his arms.

“Yeah,” Carlton says, reaching over and picking up a matching ring with a red star instead. “It can be like we’re matching.”

Carlton slides the ring onto his middle finger, smiling at Will while he does.

Amanda cuts in. “Can you ring me up already?” the same impatience creeping back into her voice.

“Right—sorry,” Carlton says, hurrying as he scans the dress and bags it.

“The total is one hundred ninety dollars and fifty cents, m’lady,” Carlton says, putting on an accent, causing Will to laugh.

Amanda grabs the bag and drops the cash on the counter in one swift motion.

“See ya,” she says, grabbing Will by the arm and dragging him toward the exits.

“Bye, Carlton,” Will waves.

“Bye, Will,” Carlton gives the same wave back, accompanied by a smile.

“He’s so obnoxious,” Amanda says.

Amanda spends the next few hours dragging Will from store to store, buying more outfits than he can keep track of.

When they’re finally done, the mall doors slide open, letting in the cool evening air as Amanda and Will step outside.

The parking lot hums softly as the sun dips lower, the sky streaked with orange and pink. Amanda unlocks the car and tosses the bags into the backseat.

She slides into the driver’s seat. “Okay. Back to the dorms. Showers, then we pregame, then we party.”

“Right,” Will says.

Amanda starts the car, pulling out of the driveway and onto Main Street.

The hum of the car engine fills the space as Amanda navigates through Main Street traffic. The shopping bags rattle softly in the backseat, and the fading sunset glows through the windows.

Will shifts in the passenger seat, staring down at his hands. “Hey… Amanda?”

“Yeah?” She keeps her eyes trained on the road.

He hesitates. “Can I… ask you something?”

She smirks. “Yea?”

“I know you said I needed to find a boy” will begins hesitating as he speaks

“I said you might find a boy” Amanda chimes in correcting will

Will lets a small laugh escape his lips

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions… but do you think there’s, like… a vibe between me and Carlton?”

Amanda doesn’t answer right away. her eyes still on the road but her lips twitch.

Will swallows. “Not like… a thing thing. Just… you know. Something. Maybe I’m imagining it.”

There’s a pause.

“I just don’t want a repeat of my last ‘crush’” will adds guilt filling his voice.

She glances at him, eyes sharp and unreadable. “no.” she says, flat.

Will exhales. “Oh.”

Amanda’s smirk grows. “Im joking will” she says raising a hand to push him slightly

“He gave you a free ring then bought himself a matching one, Will, You smile whenever he’s around, And you two stand like super close to each other.”

“We do not stand that close,” Will protests, but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You absolutely do,” she says, shaking her head. “So… yeah. There’s a vibe.”

Will looks out the window, thumb brushing the yellow star ring on his finger. “…Okay. Good. That’s… good, I guess.”

Amanda laughs softly. “It is good. Because I like him for you. He’s… annoyingly perfect for it.”

Will glances at her, surprised. “You do?”

She just grins and focuses back on the road. “Yep. He like totally matches your weirdness”

Will leans back, trying not to smile too much.

By the time they get back to the dorms, the sky has gone fully dark.

Amanda kicks the door shut behind them and immediately starts peeling off layers. “Five minutes,” she says, already heading for the bathroom. “If I take longer, tell my mom I love her.”

Will lets a smirk consume his face and gives an exaggerated eye-roll.

He drops the bags onto his bed. His fingers brush the silver ring still on his hand. The yellow star catches the dim light.

He exhales.

The sound of the shower starts, water pounding through the thin walls. Will changes slowly, tugging off his flannel and sliding his jacket on in the mirror like it might suddenly explain how he’s supposed to act tonight.

“Okay,” Amanda calls over the water, “what do you think the party will be like?”

Will hesitates. “Loud. Crowded. Stressful.”

“Perfect,” she says. “The best parties always are.”

When she finally emerges, hair damp and curls bouncing, she’s already in the red dress. It looks even better under the dorm lights.

Will looks up. Blinks. “Wow.”

She grins. “I know.”

““Are you not gonna shower?” she asks, taking a towel and scrunching her hair.

“Took one this morning, remember?” Will says, walking over to his desk.

“Right,” Amanda replies, now standing at the mirror applying makeup.

Will picks up an envelope—For Will scrawled in big black letters across the front.

“What’s this?” he asks, turning toward her.

“Like I’m supposed to know the answer to everything?” Amanda says, feigning annoyance.

“Sorry,” Will mutters, dropping the envelope back onto the desk.

Amanda smirks. “Luckily, I do know what it is.”

“Well… kinda. It came from your mailbox this morning when you had me go check,” she says, applying lip gloss.

“Oh.” Will sits on his bed.

Amanda walks to the door.

“I’m gonna go get the drinks,” Amanda says, swinging the door open.

“From—” Will begins, eyebrow shooting up.

“My dorm room, of course,” Amanda interrupts, shutting the door before he can lecture her.

Silence falls. The only sound is the distant honking of cars trapped in traffic below.

Will leans forward, picking up the envelope carefully, as if rough handling might tear it. He opens it slowly, unfolding the paper inside.

Dear Will,

I’m sorry I haven’t reached out much. A lot has happened… and I’ve been afraid to write. Jane’s death still haunts us. I don’t think we’ll ever get over it.

Will’s mind drifts, remembering Jane’s laugh echoing down the halls, the way she was delicate with everything she touched, the way she’d roll her eyes at his bad jokes.

He swallows hard.

Mike… he’s falling apart, Will. You saw him before you left, he was.. okay. but since then it’s only gotten worse. He doesn’t answer calls, he doesn’t talk to anyone, he hides in his room all day. Its like he’s to even here anymore.

And Dustin has moved to California to be with Susie, Max and I broke up—we decided it was better to stay friends, but it still hurts, I feel helpless.

Will’s fingers tighten around the paper. He remembers Mike screaming into his pillow after Jane’s death, the nights he spent pacing in his room, the silent tears he shared only with Will.

Seeing all of this—the heartbreak, the silence, the weight of everyone’s pain—I realized I can’t just stay here, either. I need to do something for myself, something that matters. That’s why I’m leaving Hawkins. I enrolled in college in New York.

I wanted to go somewhere new, but… I also wanted to be somewhere I could see one of my best friends.

It hurts to leave mike here by himself but I need a break, a change of scenery. Plus max could keep him company until I return.

By the time you read this, I’m probably already on the plane. I don’t know how long it will be until we talk again, but I need you to know… I miss you, Will. I miss the way things were, even the little moments that seemed so small at the time.

And I can’t wait to see you again.

—Lucas

The last words were smudged, tears blurring the ink. Will stares at the ceiling not allowing any more tears to fall, memories flooding him—the halloween when they were kids, Jane’s laughter, the dnd campaigns with mike.

Each memory feels sharper, heavier, like a weight pressing down on his chest.

He hugs the letter close, feeling the paper’s thinness against his chest, trying to hold onto the warmth of their friendship even as distance stretches it thin.

Outside, traffic honks and streetlights hum, but inside his room, time has slowed. Every heartbeat echoes: the emptiness, the grief, and the aching hope that he’ll see Lucas soon.

The emotional stillness shatters as the door swings open.

“I’m back—” Amanda stops mid-step.

Her eyes land on Will’s tear-soaked face.

“Oh my God… are you okay?” she asks quickly, setting the two plastic cups filled with vodka down on the coffee table.

“Yeah… it’s just—this letter.” Will looks down at his hands, almost checking to make sure the paper is still there. Still real.

“It’s from one of my ‘Hawkins friends,’” he adds, letting out a small, humorless laugh.

Amanda’s expression softens. She kneels in front of him. “Wait. That’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” Will nods, wiping at his cheeks. “I’m just… reliving stuff. Old memories. That’s all.”

But his voice cracks on the last word.

Amanda studies him for a second, then reaches back for the cups. “Okay. Maybe this will help.”

She hands one to him.

“To your Hawkins friends,” she says gently, offering a small smile.

Will stares at the cup for a moment, then lifts it slightly. “To my Hawkins friends.”

He downs it in seconds, welcoming the burn in his throat—anything to drown out the ache sitting heavy in his chest.

“Okay,” Amanda says, standing and brushing off her knees. “Let’s go to this party. Get your mind off it.”

Will hesitates, glancing once more at the letter in his hand. The ink is still smudged. The words still raw.

He folds it carefully and sets it back on his desk.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Let’s go.”

Amanda grabs her jacket, Will shrugs on his leather jacket, forcing his expression into something lighter, something less breakable.

They step out into the hallway together, the door clicking shut behind them.

The room falls silent again—and the letter rests on the desk, waiting.

The hallway smells faintly of stale carpet and cheap cologne as they step out. Amanda locks the door, the click echoing louder than it should.

The night air hits Will’s face as they exit the building. It’s colder than he expected. The city hums around them—cars rushing past, music spilling faintly from open windows, laughter drifting from somewhere down the block.

Amanda walks a little ahead, energized again. “It’s supposed to be packed,” she says over her shoulder. “Like, actually packed”

Will nods, shoving his hands into his pockets.

New York feels too big sometimes. Too loud. Too alive.

They turn the corner and the music becomes clearer—bass thumping through brick walls, vibrating the sidewalk beneath their feet.

A small crowd gathers outside an off-campus house, people squeezed onto the porch, red cups in hand, voices layered over each other.

Amanda grins. “See? Way better than sitting around crying.”

Will forces a small smile.

The front door swings open and a wave of music and heat crashes over them. Someone shouts a greeting. Someone else stumbles past laughing. The air smells like sweat, perfume, and spilled alcohol.

Amanda grabs Will’s wrist and pulls him inside.

The door shuts behind them, sealing them in.

Flashing lights flicker across the room. Bodies move to the rhythm of the music. Laughter bursts from every corner. The bass pounds so hard it feels like another heartbeat.

Will stands there in the middle of the crowd.

For just a moment, the noise blurs.

And all Will sees is Carlton.

Standing near the back door. Leaning against the wall. Red cup in hand. Watching.

He’s wearing a red long-sleeve shirt with a single blue stripe stretched across his chest, baggy jeans that hang loose like they’re swallowing him whole, beaten-up Converse scuffed at the toes.

And there — catching the flicker of the strobe lights — the silver ring on his middle finger glints.

It flashes again.

Like it’s trying to get Will’s attention.

Carlton tilts his head slightly.

And Will swears—

He swears Carlton just winked at him.

Then the bass slams back into his chest.

The world rushes in again. Bodies moving. Lights flashing. Someone shouting lyrics off-beat.

Amanda presses a drink into his hand. “Tonight,” she yells over the music, “you’re not allowed to be sad!”

“I’m not sad,” Will mutters automatically, not breaking eye contact with Carlton as he speaks.

Amanda follows his stare.

Her eyes land on Carlton.

“Why am I not surprised?” she groans, dragging her gaze back to Will.

Will doesn’t answer.

Across the room, Carlton pushes off the wall, adjusting his sleeve, and disappears deeper into the house.

Without warning, Amanda grabs Will’s chin lightly and lifts the cup to his mouth. He barely has time to react before he’s swallowing.

“If you’re gonna confront your feelings,” she says firmly, “it’s better not to do it sober.”

She spins him toward the direction Carlton went and gives him a shove.

Will stumbles a step, then looks back over his shoulder.

Amanda waves him off dramatically. “Go!” she mouths, shooing him like he’s something fragile but necessary.

Will gives her a small, nervous smile.

Then he turns and heads into the crowd.

The air feels thicker as he pushes through bodies. Someone laughs too loud. Someone bumps his shoulder. The bass vibrates up through his legs.

He spots the red sleeve first.

Carlton is near the hallway now, leaning against the wall like he owns the place. Like he knew Will would follow.

For a split second, their eyes meet again.

Carlton gives Will a slow, endearing smile before pushing off the wall once again.

He closes the distance between them easily, like it’s nothing.

“You look good,” Carlton says.

And then — without hesitation — he takes Will’s hands in his.

The contact is warm. Firm. Intentional.

Will’s breath stutters. “t-thanks…” The word trips over itself on the way out.

Carlton’s thumbs brush lightly over Will’s knuckles, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

“You wanna go somewhere quieter?” Carlton leans in, his mouth close to Will’s ear. His voice drops lower, meant only for him.

The music pounds behind them, but this closeness makes it feels distant.

Will nods quickly. Too quickly.

Carlton turns, lacing their fingers together, gently pulling Will with him through the hallway.

“Wait—”

Will slips from his grasp and darts into the kitchen.

Carlton watches him with an amused expression as Will reappears seconds later holding two red cups, slightly out of breath.

“I got us… refills,” Will says, holding one out like an offering.

Carlton’s smile softens. “Thank you.”

Their fingers brush again as he takes the cup.

neither of them pulls away immediately.

“Come on” Carlton says, glancing toward the stairwell at the end of the hallway, “I got the perfect spot for us.”

He tilts his head toward the stairs.

They move together through the hallway, slipping past a couple arguing in hushed tones and someone sitting halfway up the stairs scrolling on their phone.

The music fades with each step they climb, the bass turning into a dull vibration beneath their feet.

Carlton leads the way to the very top floor. And they enter a room on the right hand side.

There’s a narrow ladder tucked behind a half-open door.

“You’ve done this before,” Will says quietly.

Carlton smirks. “Maybe.”

He climbs first, pushing open the roof access with a soft grunt. Cool night air pours down through the opening.

He reaches a hand down.

Will hesitates only a second before taking it.

Carlton’s grip is steady as he helps pull him up.

The roof is wide and flat, The city stretches endlessly around them — windows glowing gold, traffic threading through the streets like veins of light.

The noise of the party is distant now, barely more than a hum below.

It feels like a different world up here.

Carlton steps toward the edge, careful and confident, and leans against the low ledge. He takes a sip from his cup, eyes scanning the skyline.

Will moves beside him.

For a moment, they just stand there. Shoulder to shoulder. The wind brushes lightly against Will’s hair, cooling the warmth still lingering in his cheeks.

“Worth the climb?” Carlton asks.

Will nods. “Yeah.”

The silver ring catches the moonlight when Carlton adjusts his grip on the cup.

“You were staring at me back there,” Carlton says casually.

Will nearly chokes on his drink. “I was not.”

Carlton turns his head slowly. One eyebrow lifts.

“You definitely were.”

Will looks out at the city instead of at him. “Maybe I was.. but you were definitely staring back.”

Carlton’s lips twitch.

“Maybe I was.”

The wind picks up slightly, and for a second it feels like the world below doesn’t exist. No party. No noise. No expectations.

Just the two of them and the skyline.

Carlton nudges his shoulder lightly against Will’s.

“So,” Carlton says, leaning back against the ledge, city lights reflecting faintly in his eyes. “How’s your first party experience?”

Will huffs a quiet laugh, taking a sip from his cup. “Well, I’ve barely been here five minutes and you already sweep me away from it.”

Carlton’s grin widens.

“Oh, you’re right,” he says, slipping into a dramatic, over-the-top accent. “I am such a villain. Luring innocent partygoers away from loud music and questionable decisions.”

Will laughs — a real one.

Carlton straightens, placing a hand over his chest. “I should at least twirl a mustache or something.”

“You don’t have one,” Will points out.

“Right.. bummer.” Carlton mutters

The wind shifts between them, quieter now. Comfortable.

Carlton studies him for a second. “You seem lighter than normal.”

“Up here?” Will asks.

“Yeah.”

Will looks out at the skyline again. “It’s easier to breathe.”

Carlton nods like he understands exactly what that means.

“Well,” he says gently, placing his arm around Will’, “I’m glad I kidnapped you then.”

Will smiles, smaller this time. Softer.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Me too.”

The music below pulses faintly through the building, And for the first time, Will’s at peace.

The wind shifts, brushing against them. Carlton’s arm stays around him — warm, steady. Not demanding. Just there.

“You’re quiet,” Carlton murmurs.

“Just thinking,” Will says.

“Good thoughts?”

Will hesitates. Then nods. “Yeah.”

Carlton turns slightly so they’re facing each other more fully now. His arm slips from Will’s shoulders but doesn’t go far — his hand resting lightly at Will’s waist instead, like he’s giving him space to step back if he wants to.

Will doesn’t step back.

Their faces are closer now. Close enough that Will can see the tiny scar near Carlton’s eyebrow. Close enough that the city feels like a blurred backdrop behind him.

Carlton’s eyes drop to will’s lips, Carlton’s voice drops, softer than before. “Can I—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to. Will nods.

It’s small. Barely there. But it’s enough.

Carlton closes the distance slowly — giving Will every second to change his mind. Their foreheads brush first, tentative. A shared breath. Warm against cool night air.

Will’s heart pounds, but it doesn’t feel overwhelming.

Their lips meet, Soft.

Just a gentle press, like they’re testing something fragile.

Will exhales against Carlton’s mouth, and that tiny breath deepens the kiss — just slightly. Carlton tilts his head, slow and patient, one hand sliding up to cradle Will’s jaw.

When they pull back, it’s only by inches. Carlton rests his forehead against Will’s, both of them breathing a little heavier now.

“You okay?” Carlton whispers. Will smiles — unguarded.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I am.”

“And I’m ready to party some more, so let’s go,” Will says, giggles slipping between every other word.

Carlton laughs under his breath, shaking his head. “Okay, but I’m not drinking anymore.”

Will squints at him. “Why not?”

Carlton lifts a brow like the answer should be painfully obvious. “Because someone has to watch over you.”

Will’s smile widens — warm, a little tipsy, “I don’t need watching.”

“Uh-huh,” Carlton says. “You definitely do.”

Will rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. He reaches out and grabs Carlton by the sleeve of his red shirt, fingers curling into the fabric.

“Come on,” he teases, tugging him toward the ladder. “Back to the party”

Carlton lets himself be pulled, though his hand slides down to catch Will’s, just in case he stumbles.

They climb down carefully, laughter echoing softly in the stairwell. The music grows louder with every step — bass rising, voices blending, the party swallowing them whole again.

When they push through the door and back into the house, heat and noise crash into them.

Amanda spots them almost immediately. “Well?” she shouts from across the room, raising her cup dramatically.

Will just grins — brighter than he has all night.

Carlton leans closer to Will’s ear as they step into the crowd. “Should we tell her.”

Will looks up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes shining under the flashing lights. “Definitely not.” Smile growing.

Carlton squeezes his hand once before letting go, staying close as the music drops and the crowd jumps in unison.

The rest of the night dissolves into noise and bad decisions.

Amanda somehow acquires someones cowboy hat. Will decides he loves everyone in the room. At one point he hugs a complete stranger and tells them they have “a really trustworthy face.”

Carlton stops trying to keep track after midnight.

By two, Amanda is dramatically reenacting a breakup she’s never had. By three, Will is sitting on the kitchen counter giving someone his life story.

Carlton takes both red cups out of their hands.

“That’s it,” he says.

“Party pooper,” Amanda mumbles. “Yea party pooper,” Will adds, patting Carlton’s cheek with exaggerated affection.

Somehow, Carlton gets them both into his car. Amanda insists on playing DJ from the backseat but falls asleep halfway through a song.

Will spends the drive staring out the window.

Getting them into the dorm is a process. Amanda leans heavily on the wall while Will fumbles with his key card three separate times before Carlton gently takes it from him.

Inside the room, the overhead light flicks on too bright. Amanda squints toward the ceiling. “Cut the light off.”

Carlton groans but reaches for the switch, flicking the room back into darkness.

“Im so tired,” Amanda mumbles, sliding down the wall until she’s fully committed to the hardwood. “This is my spot now.”

“You have a dorm just down the hall,” Carlton reminds her.

“And yet,” she sighs dramatically, curling onto her side, “I feel called to this floor.” Carlton pinches the bridge of his nose.

Will giggles from the bed, the sound soft and unfiltered in the dark.

“You’re both unbelievable,” Carlton mutters.

Amanda waves a lazy hand in the air. “I’m sleeping here.” And just like that, she’s out — faint snoring beginning almost immediately.

Silence settles in.

Will looks at Carlton and Carlton looks at Will.

Even in the dark, they can feel it.

“Well,” Will says after a second, voice lower now. “Floor does look taken."

Carlton exhales slowly.

“What?.” Will's eyebrow shoots up.

Carlton shakes his head, though Will can’t see it.

He moves toward the bed. They both lie down on top of the covers at first, stiff and awkward, leaving a careful six inches of space between them.

Streetlights from outside spill faintly through the blinds, striping the walls in pale gold.

It’s quiet except for Amanda’s soft snoring on the floor.

Will shifts. So does Carlton.

The mattress dips slightly between them. “You comfortable?” Carlton asks quietly.

“Yeah,” Will answers, then there's a beat of silence.

Carlton huffs softly. “What now?”

That hangs there.

Carlton turns slightly onto his side, facing him. He can just barely make out the outline of Will’s face in the low light.

“We don’t have to talk—” Carlton starts.

“I know,” Will says quickly.

Another pause. Amanda snores louder, like punctuation.

Will lets out a quiet laugh at that, then scoots—just a little—closer.

The six inches becomes three. Carlton doesn’t move away.

“You’re warm,” Will murmurs.

“That’s how body temperature works.”

“Shut up.”

Carlton smiles in the dark. After a moment, he shifts too — not dramatically, just enough that their arms brush.

Neither of them pull back.

The air feels heavier now, warmer.

Will’s hand hesitates for half a second before resting lightly against Carlton’s shirt.

“You still watching over me?” he asks, voice softer than before.

“Yeah,” Carlton says.

Will hums, satisfied. Another quiet minute passes.

Then Will nudges closer again — slow enough to be accidental if either of them needed it to be.

Carlton closes the remaining space himself.

Their shoulders touch fully now, Their legs brush, Carlton’s arm hovers awkwardly for a second before settling around Will’s waist.

Will exhales. Not giggly anymore.

Outside, a car passes, Somewhere down the hall, a door shuts, Amanda mumbles something unintelligible in her sleep.

Will tilts his head slightly, forehead nearly brushing Carlton’s collarbone.

“Are you comfortable?” he whispers.

Carlton’s hand tightens just slightly at his side “Yeah,” he says quietly.

Will smiles against his chest.

Their breathing slowly falls into rhythm — matching without trying.

“Ok” Will says, “What’s one thing you are insecure about?”

The question is random. Carlton is taken a back for a second before answering.

“Uhm…” Carlton starts. “I don’t know”

“Lame,” Will mutters.

“Okay, you answer then,” Carlton exhales.

Will is quiet for a while, Long enough that Carlton thinks he might’ve fallen asleep.

“Well,” Will finally says, “my whole life I had a bowl cut.”

Carlton snickers before he can stop himself.

“Stop laughing,” Will says, swatting at him. It’s too soft to do any damage.

“Sorry.” Carlton says quickly

“Like I was saying,” Will continues with exaggerated dignity, “I had a bowl cut for most of my life and it was horrible.”

He pauses dramatically.

“And I love my mom, don’t get me wrong. But that bowl cut was the death of me.”

Carlton’s shoulders shake quietly. “First off, I need to see pictures. Second, that’s a dumb thing to be insecure about.”

Will tilts his head now facing Carlton. “Well duh,” Will says, Vodka still fresh on his tongue.

“Your breath stinks,” Carlton says, gently pushing his face back down. Will giggles.

“Insecurities aren’t really for other people to get,” he says, more serious now. He reaches down and intertwines their fingers. “They’re just… stuff you find flawed within yourself.”

Carlton huffs softly. “When did you become Shakespeare?”

“Right…” Will murmurs. “…now.”

His grip loosens slightly, His breathing evens out. And within seconds, he’s asleep.

Carlton stays awake a little longer.

He watches the shape of Will in the dark — the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his hair falls into his face. He adjusts the blanket, pulling it up higher around his shoulders.

Amanda snores softly from the floor. and Carlton smiles to himself.

“For the record,” he whispers quietly, even though Will can’t hear him, “I think you would’ve been cute with a bowl cut.”

Will shifts in his sleep, inching closer automatically.

Carlton doesn’t move away. And not long after Carlton’s eyes close, his fingers still loosely laced with Will’s as the room settles into quiet.