Work Text:
March 22nd 1989
“What’s it like being an adult?”
Will rolled over on the blanket. “Marvellous. I feel so different.”
“All those additional legal rights,” mused Mike.
“Uh huh. I can get a bank loan.”
“A whole-ass mortgage.”
“Mmm. Where do you think I should buy a house?”
Mike played with his hair. “Somewhere nice.”
“Real specific, thanks. You ever thought of being a realtor?”
“Somewhere – somewhere quiet. Where there are no people, or, at least, nice ones, few and far between. Where it’s beautiful, with pine trees and snow and cabins and lakes and maple syrup and mounted policemen and –”
“That –” (Will wrinkled his nose) “– sounds a lot like Canada.”
“What’s wrong with Canada?”
“Ew. Full of Canadians. With the British Queen on their money and French in their mouths.” Will shook his head. “Yuck.”
“I could be Canadian, you know.”
“Any one of us could be Canadian, Mike.” Will shoved another peanut butter cup into his mouth. There were only a couple left. “But luckily most people are more fortunately born.”
“I’m serious! My mom was in Canada when I was due to be born. But I was late so she made it back down here.”
“Good to know that you’ve been late for everything from the start.” Will frowned. “What the hell was your mom doing travelling round the continent at full term?”
“My grandpa’s funeral, I think. That’s what Nancy says.” Mike scrunched up his face. “But she was, like, three and a half, so I don’t think she really remembers.” Mike sucked his teeth. “He was called Michael.”
“Oh. One out, one in, huh?”
“Will!”
“Sorry. Was that insensitive?”
“Little bit.”
“Adult humour. You wouldn’t understand.”
Mike kicked his foot. “Watch it.” He raked his hand through the ruins of their picnic and found a grape. “So, what else can you do, O grown-up?”
“Vote. Be on a jury. Leave home. Consent to medical treatment without telling Mom.”
“Carry a gun.”
“Pretty sure we’ve already done that.”
“Get married.”
Will laughed humourlessly. “Wish me luck with that.” He moved his head from the crook of Mike’s shoulder to put in on Mike’s chest. “Be nice, though, wouldn’t it?”
Mike kissed the top of his head. “This you saying you wanna marry me? We’ve only been dating six months.”
“Five months on Saturday.”
“Even worse.”
“Well, I said I think it’d be nice to be married. Never said anything about you.”
Mike slid his arm around Will’s back. “Fine.” He stroked Will’s hip. “And you know what else you can do now?” He pressed his thumb into the inside of the joint. “Hmm?”
Will flushed. “Mike!” He bit his lip. “But do you pay any attention in civics class? We’ve been able to do that since we were 16.”
“Really? Shit, what have we been waiting for?”
Will flicked his nose. “Your emotional maturity.” Then he propped his head up on his fist and looked serious. “Maybe we shouldn’t date any more, actually. What with me being an adult and you being an itty bitty child.”
“Cradle-snatcher.”
“Toy boy.”
Mike snorted and pushed himself up on his elbows to kiss his boyfriend. “If you like.”
Will laughed “Oh, I will.”
Mike dropped back onto the blanket, and Will put his head back across Mike’s chest. Mike started twisting his hair again . “Will?”
He sounded a bit nervous. “Yeah?”
“If it’s OK with you, I still wanna wait a little bit. I – I’m not quite ready yet.”
Will twisted his head up and kissed the underside of Mike’s jaw. “That’s fine, sweetheart. Take as long as you need.”
“I know I – I know I can be a bit ... suggestive, but, uh, that’s just easier because it’s in my head. As like a joke, or whatever.”
Will kissed him again. “It’s really OK, Mike. I’m not totally sure I’m ready for it right this moment. But we’ll get to figure it out together.”
“Thank you.” Mike went quiet for all of thirty seconds. “Anything else you can do?”
Just as Will opened his mouth, his watch beeped. He groaned. “Fairly sure I can still get done for playing hooky.”
“Ugh.” Mike put his hand over his eyes. “Stupid school. Why can’t your birthday always be on the weekend?”
“The Babylonians, I think, and their obsession with the number seven.” Will sat up, Mike following him with pathetically outstretched arms.
“Oh. Knew there was someone.” Mike draped himself over Will’s shoulders. “I’ll get them to sort that out.” He kissed Will on the back of the neck, then both cheeks. “But, in the meantime, happy birthday, baby.”