Archive of Our Own

Mike’s math class is an absolute hellscape.

This is something that everyone in his class knows, because the teacher can’t teach and his classmates are always doing something far too outrageous for eight o’clock on a Tuesday morning.

Math also sucks in general, but listening to his teacher with a personality equivalent to a piece of cardboard drone on about circle theorems while some idiot at the back of the class jumps on a table and starts singing Whitney specifically makes Mike more than want to claw his eyes out.

It’s not helped that Mike also sits at the back, so he has front-row seats to Jason-Something’s tone-deaf rendition of I Wanna Dance with Somebody.

There’s only one person with the power to get Mike through his abhorrent Tuesday morning class, the one and only Dustin Henderson.

Dustin sits next to Mike at the back, the type of thing that has every possible benefit that the human mind could think of.

One — Dustin is one of Mike’s best friends, so Mike has someone to make snide commentary with and talk to when the teacher won’t teach.

Two — Dustin is, like, the smartest person ever, Mike is pretty sure, so he helps Mike with the stupid work. Don’t say that Mike copies him, because that has never happened.

Of course, he’s no Will, but Mike has decided that comparing other people to Will is rather unfair now because, let’s face it, no one will ever be Will, but Dustin seems to be the second-most ideal person to be stuck in the back of a god awful math class with, and Mike will take it.

Class is about fifteen minutes from ending, and Mike thinks that the teacher is asleep. He exchanges a look with Dustin, and it seems they both figure that class is just metaphorically over, because paper planes are already being thrown more than usual.

Dustin shuts his notebook, filled with detailed notes and a greater understanding of the subject than Mike thinks he’ll ever have, and turns his body to face Mike. Might as well start a conversation with nothing to do.

It looks as though Dustin’s trying to come up with an out-of-the-box starter. Mike can practically see the lightbulb go off in his brain when he does.

“You know what I think is really weird?” Dustin starts, and Mike turns his chair to face Dustin, ducking in time to narrowly dodge what he hopes is a pencil. “Spin the bottle.”

“Elaborate.” Mike can hear him out on this one, though he’s never actually played it, because the concept is really strange. Dustin always has good thoughts on random subjects like these.

“Well, the whole idea of kissing games in general,” Dustin puts his elbow on his desk and leans on it, “just having to kiss a random person for no reason, and it means nothing.”

“You know what, I agree,” Mike decides to add his own point, “imagine if all party games revolved around that.”

“Not even just party games,” Dustin laughs at the idea, “rock paper scissors, but if you get the same move you have to kiss.”

Mike finds that concept unreasonably funny. Imagine if he and Will happened to both pick paper (because paper’s the best one) and they had to make out. The reason why Mike thought of Will with this concept first will not be looked further into.

Mike tries to think of another game to contribute to the conversation.

“Uno, but you have to kiss everyone that you plus four.” Mike snaps his fingers like he’s the next Aristotle, laughing at his own concept.

“Right, and if you get uno while someone else has it, you also have to kiss.” Dustin adds, and now they’re both laughing. “See? It’s ridiculous. Kissing games are ridiculous.”

“Totally,” Mike agrees, “uncomfortable, too.”

“Imagine, like,” Dustin looks like he has an idea, “you remember that time we made that blood pact back in sixth grade?”

Mike recalls that time in his head. A fond childhood memory of his, really. If he looks at his index finger and thinks really hard, he can still kind of feel the pain.

“Like it was yesterday,” Mike says, to be extra.

“So, I’m thinking—” Dustin continues, nodding his head. “That’s a really strange way to make a promise, and our Party used to do a lot of spit swears as promises. You know how they call kissing, like, swapping spit? Imagine if there was a spit swap spit swear, and instead of the usual thing, you have to kiss to make the promise work.”

The gears turn in Mike’s brain for a split second. Maybe Mike is an idiot, which is highly possible, but that doesn’t sound like too horrible of an idea.

“Fuck, that’s genius,” Mike leans forward and Dustin puts on a proud smile, “you know what, I wouldn’t be surprised if that actually becomes a thing. You could make some money out of that.”

“I won’t be making money for inventing the spit swap spit swear,” Dustin shakes his head, still grinning.

Mike repeats the name in his head. Spit swap spit swear. It kind of has a ring to it. Maybe.

He knows that Dustin is joking. In fact, Dustin is making fun of the very concept. But, in all honesty, the idea isn't too shabby.

Obviously, there’s no situation in which it would ever be used but, you know, food for thought.

“So, like,” Mike attempts to repeat the idea back to him, because he’s intrigued. “You make the promise, and you’d usually spit in your hand and shake on it, but rather the spit exchanged from the kiss completely covers it.”

“Yes, exactly like that.” Dustin snaps his fingers, smiling like they’ve come up with the stupid idea of the year.

Mike sees a pair of scissors fly through the air in his peripherals as he gives Dustin a joking high five and moves onto the next topic of conversation.

The spit swap spit swear, however, doesn’t leave his mind for the rest of the day.

Mike doesn’t really know if he’d consider himself a good kisser.

Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t think he’s ever really experienced a good kiss before, because they kind of suck when they’re not with someone you trust, but he could be contributing to that.

There’s also that whole thing where he doesn’t really know what the difference between a good kisser and a bad kisser is supposed to be, so he could be in the clear.

The whole concept is kind of intriguing to him, and simultaneously kind of gross — literally exchanging spit with a random, but whatever — because he can’t say he’s ever experienced one that he’s totally enjoyed, especially since it’s supposed to be up with the best feelings ever. It’s about the person, he’s concluded.

He thinks he’d want to try it again, with someone he can trust. For real. To see what it’s really like.

It’s been two days since Dustin’s bright idea, and Mike can’t really get it out of his head, because he feels like it is a good way to make a promise, in theory.

Think about it. You make a promise with someone you trust. You kiss someone you trust. It’s the optimal way to make a promise.

Like, Will. Mike used to make a lot of spit swears with Will back in the day, but imagine taking that act of trust to the next level.

Mike trusts Will more than anyone else on this planet, and if there’s anyone in Mike’s life that he would kiss, it’s Will.

Of course, Mike doesn’t see kissing as an inherently romantic act, as much as it is portrayed as such.

This is actually for the very logical reason that he has thought about kissing Will numerous times, on numerous different occasions, which means that it can’t be romantic, because — let’s just get one thing clear right now — Mike doesn’t, he never has and he never will, see Will as anything more than his best friend.

Because of this, kissing must also be platonic, as it’s the only way it would make sense, so Mike sees it more as an act of trust than anything.

His friends think he’s strange, and they’re very vocal about thinking that he’s madly in love with Will, but he thinks that he’s just smarter than the average person.

Sure, he wouldn’t kiss Dustin, or Lucas, and he’s done with kissing El, and definitely not Max, but that makes sense because Will is his best friend.

And sure, when with anyone but Will, the idea of kissing still feels kind of gross — even the word lips makes him want to throw up — but, once again, Will is his best friend, so it makes sense that it would only be comfortable with him.

So, theoretically, if he connects all of the dots, this does mean that every problem in Mike’s life would be instantly solved if he were to find a way to try Dustin’s new genius invention with Will.

Plus, he feels like Will would be a fantastic kisser, as he’s fantastic at pretty much everything else and he’s got a warm face and he radiates sunshine and he smiles a lot and Mike feels like he just has the perfect mouth shape for that sort of thing, you know?

Probably not, but the point still stands that Mike is the smartest man alive, if he can really manage to make this work.

The only thing that’s needed is an opportunity to make any sort of promise with Will, and Mike is set for life.

Fortunately, things work out in Mike’s dreadful life, sometimes.

Four days have passed since Mike’s enlightening conversation with Dustin, and Will has happened to invite himself over to Mike’s house. Flash cards.

Now, Mike hates flash cards as much as the next guy, just like he hates all forms of studying, but something about Will makes the whole ordeal more bearable, when he’s sitting on Mike’s bed and leaning against the wall and reading out questions in his really, like, smooth voice. Mike thinks that Will ought to record an audiobook.

They've been at it for about an hour, and Will must recognize that Mike wants to rip his hair out of his scalp and he would much rather be finding something useless and trivial to swear on, so Will decides that it’s in their budget to take a five minute break, which Mike persuades him to increase to ten minutes.

Max has been doing a lot of skateboarding recently. Not that Mike necessarily cares, but there’s a local sport competition and El had convinced her to enter and use her cool skateboarding tricks or whatever.

For some reason, Will decides to bring that up, even though Max is a trigger for Mike, but Mike can’t really be mad because Will can make anything sound interesting. It’s a unique gift of his.

“Max’s competition is coming up,” Will says absently, shuffling the cards and neatening the pile that they’re in. “Between that and exams it’s probably pretty stressful for her.”

Will’s using that kind of tone that he uses when he wants something, or is trying to convince Mike to do something to him. Mike thinks that it’s a very endearing mannerism of his, as his friend.

“Yes, and?” Mike asks, grinning a little, and Will smiles back.

“And it’s probably best that you don’t try to get on her nerves until for the next week or so,” Will fidgets with the hem of his shirt. “It’s negative. It could stress her out even more.”

Damn, Will is such a nice and kind and considerate person. He’s so willing to do everything to help even Max, the world’s worst person. Really quite admirable of him.

“So you’re saying that I can’t be mean to Max?” Mike groans, and Will nods. “For a whole week?”

Will nods again.

“Yes,” Will laughs a little at Mike’s emotional turmoil. “Is it that hard of an ask?”

“Well, yeah,” Mike responds, because it’s obvious. “Who else am I going to be mean to?”

“No one?” Will questions, in a tone that suggests that’s also obvious, though it really isn’t. “Come on, you’ll try not to annoy her? She’s got a short fuse right now.”

Mike really wants to say no, desperately, but Will’s shining eyes and genuine expression make that nothing short of absolutely impossible.

As if Mike wasn’t already convinced, Will decides to add on one more plea.

“For me?”

And Mike folds instantly.

“Fine, I’ll try my best,” Mike sighs, before he’s struck by an idea, because the universe loves him and the stars have aligned and he’s never going to die. “I promise.”

“Great,” Will’s expression melts into a satisfied smile, but Mike isn’t exactly done.

“In fact,” Mike begins, and he’s suddenly hit by a wave of nerves, “I’ll spit swap spit swear it to you.”

A pause.

“What did you say?” Will asks, as if he didn’t hear Mike, or totally understand what he said. Fair enough.

Mike realizes he’s less credible if he says that he and Dustin made it up. What’s that going to say about him? He needs to fabricate a little bit.

“I said spit swap spit swear,” Mike slows his speaking down a little bit. “It’s this new variant of the spit swear that’s become really popular recently.”

“What is it?” Will tilts his head, looking only slightly less confused. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”

“So basically,” Mike pivots from where he sits on his bed to fully face Will, “it’s the same idea as the regular spit swear, except it’s more of an exchange, because in order to finalize it, the people making the promise have to kiss.

Another pause. Mike realizes that he sounds like a total loon.

“They have to kiss?” Will raises an eyebrow, still looking puzzled but more amused this time. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, to make it clear, I’m not gay, that’s a— that’s a, that’s a…” Mike attempts to explain, “but, uh, the spit exchanged in the kiss is the ultimate symbol of trust. It’s the optimal way to make a promise. Plus, it’s really popular between friends these days. It’s totally normal.”

At this moment in time, Mike has no clue whether or not he’s pulling off this lie.

“Is that necessary, Mike?” Will breathes out a laugh through his words. “I mean, I get where you’re coming from, but…”

Will doesn’t finish his sentence. Mike pushes a little further, plastering on a smile and feeling like an idiot.

“Dude, you have to kiss me,” Mike attempts to reason with Will, holding his hands out in front of him and wearing his most convincing grin, “it’s supposed to show trust. We can’t make an effective promise without it.”

“Are you sure this is legit?” Will tilts his head, looking skeptical. “I’m pretty sure that no spit swear should work like this.”

“Of course I’m sure.” Mike tries to look as confident as possible. “The kiss is what seals the deal. That’s why they call it the spit swap spit swear. We need to try it.”

“We need to try it?” Will sounds incredulous.

“Yeah! For the— for the teenage experience and…” Mike trails off, because he doesn’t exactly know where he’s going with this one. “Well I feel stupid about it now.”

“You should!” Will breathes a sort of sarcastic laugh through his words. “You’re asking me to kiss you, Mike.”

“Well, yeah, but like— as friends, you know? As buddies! I’m telling you man, it’s the optimal way to make a promise.” Mike repeats his phrase, hoping that Will will agree if Mike says the same thing over and over again. “I would know. I have, uh, sources.”

He doesn’t quite know why he said that, because chances are he’ll have to back that up.

“Who could your sources possibly be?” Will tilts his head with an air of amusement about him. He seems to be enjoying Mike’s self-inflicted humiliation.

“You know, just,” Mike shoves his hands in his pockets, “people. The outside world. My men on the inside, you feel me?”

“No, I don’t feel you,” Will is still grinning, “I don’t think you do either.”

“Well— you should.” Mike stands his ground. “And we should try it. Just to see if it works.”

Though Mike knows that he’s spewing utter bullshit, and Will can tell the difference between bullshit and things that are legit, Mike somehow thinks he’s winning Will over.

“Because it would be funny?” Mike tries again, smiling as he tries to do the puppy dog-eyes thing that Will has somehow mastered but Mike never got the hang of. “Please? Optimal way to make a promise?”

There’s an obnoxiously loud silence for a solid few seconds. Finally, Will laughs again.

“You know what, sure,” Will gives in, his face flushing significantly, “I’ll humor you. Let’s try it.”

Mike mentally pumps his fist, since it’s a weird thing to do physically, since that might imply that he’s happy about this, which might imply that he’s into Will, even though it means no such thing.

“Cool.” Mike attempts to bite back a grin, and Will moves in closer.

The silence comes back. Like a buffoon, Mike decides to just stare at Will and do nothing for a solid two seconds, which makes things a whole lot more awkward.

It’s fine. It’s cool. It will only be for a second, and it means nothing.

After a moment of Mike looking stupid, he works up the guts to lean in and kiss Will.

Though Mike would like to say that it’s nothing spectacular, it totally is something spectacular.

He isn’t sure how long it lasts. One second, maybe two. It’s not long, but he feels something new when he presses his mouth against Will’s. It feels like his insides are on fire.

Will’s face is hot. Hotter to the touch than Mike would have expected, but also soft and nice and Will seems to melt right into the short kiss. It’s a weird sensation.

The entire ordeal is weird.

The kiss was far too closed-mouthed to really count as a spit swap, per se, but Mike figures that’s something they can resolve next time.

“I swear that I won’t try to annoy Max this week,” Mike immediately tries to fill the silence when he pulls away, because he cannot deal with any extra awkwardness right about now.

“Good,” Will smiles, and Mike notices just how red Will’s face is.

It looks like Will wants to say something more, and it feels like Mike wants to say something more, but they both leave it there. Mike doesn’t want to make it weird, especially since it’s a normal thing in friendships and Will bought the lie about the whole idea being popular.

“Should we, uh,” Will resumes talking, “should we get back to studying?”

Will picks up the pile of flash cards from the spot on the bed where he left them next to him, and Mike sighs, but he agrees, with as much reluctance as possible.

And like that, things go completely back to normal.

In case an update is needed, not being mean to Max is torture.

Max’s thing is next Monday, and Mike doesn’t think he can make another week, especially when she’s still just as mean as usual.

Unfortunately, a spit swear is a spit swear, and such a promise means even more when it involves kissing Will.

Since the first occurrence, Mike has come to the smart conclusion that he needs to try it again.

For various reasons. The first being that it wasn’t really an exchange to its full potential, and the second being that it was nice, for the first time in Mike’s life. Platonically.

So, like the rational and logical person that Mike is, he’s been actively on the lookout for any other excuses to kiss Will that might come up. Platonically.

Enter Mike’s basement. Will’s decided to come over after school for no reason in particular.

This is great, because Mike just needs to start bullshitting enough to find something to make a promise out of, which sounds like an easy enough job.

Things actually don’t go Mike’s way, however, because he ends up having no material to go off of.

Talking to Will is nice, as usual, and it’s calming and Will makes him feel like he belongs somewhere and he’s a good listener and his voice is pleasing to the ears and Mike would spend all of his time with Will if he could but that’s besides the point, because he has no clue how to spin anything into a spit swear.

“I think I might have to go right about now,” Will checks his watch and runs a hand through his hair, and Mike is in the pits of doom and despair. “I told my mom I could make dinner tonight.”

“Oh my god, chef Byers? Save me some,” Mike grins, and Will stands up from his seat at the table. “Well— yeah. Alright. See you tomorrow.”

Mike tries his best to hide how distraught he is, and he thinks he’s doing a good job. He doesn’t even really know if he’s so disappointed because he hasn’t achieved his mission or if he just doesn’t want Will to leave.

“See you tomorrow, Mike,” Will smiles and throws his backpack over his shoulders.

Mike deflates as he leaves, watching Will adjust his backpack straps and walk away.

Will’s about halfway up the stairs when he suddenly stops, and Mike feels a part of his soul recover.

“Shit, I almost forgot,” Will turns back around, “are you free this Saturday? I thought that the Party could stay over at me and El’s house.”

“Yeah, of course,” Mike stands up, and he hates how joyful he feels at such a request, since he and his friends have sleepovers all the time. “At what time?”

Will takes a few steps down, until he’s at the second stair to the bottom, and Mike moves to meet him at the bottom of the staircase.

“I thought you could get there around six,” Will taps his chin, “but knowing you, you’ll probably be there at eight if I say that.”

“That was one time,” Mike throws his head back, but he can’t stop himself from smiling a little.

“Three,” Will corrects him, “three times.”

“Have you been counting how many times I’m late— you know what, never mind,” Mike watches the corner of Will’s mouth curl up just a tiny bit, “It’s not my fault that I always get a bit delayed. I’m fashionably late.”

“You can’t be “a bit delayed” by two hours, Mike,” a laugh creeps in through Will’s words, “whatever. Just— listen. You know you’re my favorite person, Mike.”

“Where did this come from?” Mike can’t help but take a little jab at Will and step a tiny bit closer to where the floor and the first stair meet. There’s quite a lack of space between their faces, but it’s not quite glaring just yet.

“I’m serious!” Will looks like he’s trying to control his smile, but Mike can hear it in his voice. “You know I’d appreciate you being there at least a little early, or at least on time. I like to spend time with you, which is hard to do when everyone’s already watching the movie and you’re two hours late.”

In all truth, Mike feels a bit bad, but let it be known that no time he’s been late has ever been his fault. It’s literally always Nancy. If he had it his way, he would get the whole day alone with Will before anyone else arrived.

“Right. Sorry, Will,” Mike’s expression softens a little, “but it’s never my fault.”

“I know, I know,” Will rolls his eyes, “but— promise me you’ll try not to be late?”

Mike’s lucky that he controls himself before he starts jumping up and down like a little girl. Man, he loves it when things go his way.

“Of course. I promise.” Mike gives himself a quick mental pep talk, because really nervous all of a sudden. “You know what, I’ll spit swear it to you.”

It’s quite embarrassing when Will moves his hand up to his face, because now Mike has to stop him and specify, which he doesn’t exactly want to do.

“No, um— the other one.” Mike feels his face flush, and he thinks that Will goes a tiny bit red as well as he drops his hand back to his side.

What an idiot. Mike shouldn’t have said anything. Perhaps he pushed his luck with even the first time he requested it, because he forgot to grin really wide so he now looks dead serious instead of having that playful sort of joking effect.

“Oh, yeah, that one.” Will’s voice goes a little quieter, and he adjusts the position in which he’s standing on the step. It sort of looks like he considers moving down to meet Mike, but Mike is standing too close to the step for there to be any room. “This again?”

With Will standing at this level, he’s more reminiscent of Mike’s height. In fact, he might be a bit taller.

“Alright, I know I said it would just be one time,” Mike finds it harder to make an excuse, “But we can afford to try it again. It’s the optimal way to make a promise.”

Will looks unconvinced. Mike’s smile goes crooked.

“Really?” Will raises an eyebrow, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“We have to, man, I’m telling you,” Mike steps a little closer, closing the gap between their faces a little. He isn’t a fan of how desperate he’s presenting himself to be.

Will pauses to hesitate. He runs a hand through his hair.

“Okay,” Will says after a second, and Mike bites down on his lip so as to not smile and look weird. He doesn’t know if he pulls it off.

If Mike were to have one wish, it would be for this part of the swear to stop being so awkward. It’s almost as if kissing is romantic and sort of weird to do with a friend. Either way, the silence is excruciating.

It takes a second of staring and wondering who’s going to move in first, but Mike can only remember seeing the sort of hesitant look in Will’s eyes and feeling Will’s hands cup either side of Mike’s face as he tilts his head and leans forward.

Mike has a moment of squeezing his eyes shut and anticipating, but he becomes familiar with the feeling of his stomach doing a back handspring as Will keeps a firm grip on Mike’s face and kisses him.

Mike doesn’t want to keep his hands by his sides, so he moves an arm to pull Will in by his back, careful not to make Will lose his footing and fall off of the stairs.

Actually, Mike doesn’t realize how tense he had been until he finds himself fully relaxing into it, parting his mouth slightly and placing his free hand somewhere around Will’s waist.

With this one comes an even stranger sensation, one stronger than the first time. The way Will keeps moving and trying not to stumble feels electrifying. Mike thinks he might be on fire as Will twists a couple of loose strands of Mike’s hair around his fingers.

Though he really shouldn’t, Mike can’t help but find himself pressing further, trying to move a little closer to the stairs without throwing off the balance.

He really shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, no kiss for a spit swear should last this long, but he isn’t willing to break away.

However, he’s forced to when he hears his mom’s voice, sounding scarily close to the basement door.

“Mike!” She calls, and Mike practically jumps off of Will, causing Will to stumble forward a little bit. “Isn’t Will supposed to be leaving?”

Luckily, Mike grabs onto Will’s shoulders and steadies him before it’s too late, but none of that changes the fact that Mike’s life just flashed before his eyes.

More painfully silent staring, just for a second. Mike’s eyes dart downwards on Will’s face for a second.

“That was—”

“Your mom’s right, I should be leaving,” Will turns around and practically runs up the stairs of the basement to leave. “See you tomorrow, Mike.”

Mike can’t exactly blame Will for cutting him off, because he supposes he would have if he was in that situation. Hell, Mike doesn’t even know why he tried to say something about the kiss in the first place. Neither of them need that. He was probably going to use some weak adjective like “nice” as well.

He’s embarrassed. He’s dazed. He’s elated. He thinks that he’s everything, all at once. After such an interaction with Will, Mike doesn’t think he’ll be able to see clearly for the next couple of days.

“Yeah, um, bye,” Mike responds, but Will has already left. “Will.”

Mike’s pretty sure that things will be back to normal by tomorrow, but he still needs to take a second.

Monday’s interaction lasted seven seconds, if Mike’s counting is correct.

In all fairness, counting seconds turned out not to be the very first thing on Mike’s mind when kissing his best friend on the mouth, but he thinks that seven seconds is a fair guess.

That one was definitely the kiss that the description of the spit swap spit swear was looking for, but it still wasn’t, you know, everything.

Perhaps he should aim for some tongue next time? No. Probably not. Kissing with tongue is gross, he’s pretty sure.

He doesn’t know. The idea seems gross, but maybe with Will it would be, like, elegant or something. Perhaps something worth trying.

He isn’t sure if he wants to curl up in disgust at the idea of Will’s tongue in his mouth or if he wants it to a degree that he should look further into.

Whichever one he wants, Mike decides to keep thinking about it as he leans his head against the car window and listens to his mom hum the next lame song on the radio.

As of now, it’s five forty-five, which means that he didn’t let his kiss with Will go to waste. In all honesty, he kind of forgot that he only kissed Will to promise that he wouldn’t be late, but all’s well that ends well.

The first is still going horribly, though Mike’s succeeding. Not being mean to Max has got to be one of the worst things ever. However, the promise is going strong.

What this obviously means is that the spit swap spit swear is proving itself to be effective. Mike kind of came up with the whole optimal way to make a promise thing as a sort of fake it till you make it, but the fact that he’s used it twice and kept his promise both times is no coincidence.

This method is foolproof, which means that Mike has to use it again, and soon. And when he says he has to, he means it. It’s life and death now. Because of the extremely effective psychology behind Dustin’s idea, because Dustin’s smart so he would know, Mike doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to keep a promise any other way.

To Will, of course. He can make normal promises to everyone else just fine, but Will is an exception. Don’t ask why. He just is. He just is.

Though winter is long over, Mike still isn’t quite used to the way that the sun is still completely up at this time of the evening. Mike doesn’t think he really ever adjusts to summer. His year is just winter and three seasons of strange filler where the time’s all whack.

Will hates winter. Mike definitely can’t blame him. Everyone knows that Christmas is the only thing holding the season together. Mike supposes he just prefers that you can always layer up until you’re warm with cold weather, but there’s only so much anyone can do when it’s hot.

Also, bugs. They all go back to wherever they came from during winter. Mike appreciates it greatly.

However, spring and summer have their good parts. It’s always nicer to hang out with friends at this time of year. Mike already has an unrealistic amount of hope for his perfect summer break, especially considering that it’s the last one before senior year.

Will likes summer. Mike can’t blame him for that one either. Mike can’t blame Will for any of his takes. He knows it’s supposed to be impossible to have good opinions, but he thinks that Will fits that mythical category.

The car comes to a stop. Mike’s been off on a mental tangent, and he doesn’t even realize that he’s at the Byers household, and his mom’s getting out of the car.

Mike had decided to hitch a ride with his mom, because she needs to give some house decorations to Will’s mom or something along those lines. Mike wasn’t necessarily listening. Whatever she’s doing managed to save him the effort of getting to Will’s house any other way.

His mom is picking something up from the boot of the car and he decides to knock at the door and let himself in early. He looks back at his mom. He doesn’t quite think she needs help carrying those.

Yeah, she’s got it.

After a second, his attention snaps away from his mom as the front door opens, revealing a certain special someone at the door.

Mike is just kidding — it’s Will, as it is most times. Nothing special. Nothing new. Someone pretty, but in the most normal way possible.

Will’s eyes completely light up. Mike feels a warm feeling begin to fester in his chest. It’s endearing how happy Will looks to see Mike breaking his three-time streak of being late to sleepovers, to no fault of his.

Will adjusts his shirt collar and his cheeks turn the tiniest bit pink, softening his smile a little. Mike wants to do something, though he doesn’t know what, and he can’t quite put it into words.

He thinks that his wordless desire might be a bad idea, whatever it is.

“Hi,” Mike shoves a hand into the pocket of his jeans, trying to act nonchalant. “Surprised to see me?”

“Of course not,” Will says, but he isn’t all that convincing. “I’m a little shocked that you’re actually early, though.”

Will steps aside to let Mike into the house, and Mike hears his mom come up behind him, carrying bags.

“Well, I keep my promises,” Mike grins a little, “you didn’t think I did all that for nothing, did you?”

He desperately hopes that Will will catch the hint when Mike says “all that”, because El is filing through movies on the living room floor and Mike’s mom is right next to them, thanking Will as he takes a bag off of her hands, so Mike doesn’t feel like specifying right now.

“Did all what?” El asks, turning her attention to Mike before Will can respond as he shouts for his mom and places the bag he’s holding on the kitchen counter. “And you’re early.”

Mike isn’t quite sure what emotion El’s conveying when she makes that last comment, but Mike will assume that she’s impressed.

“Oh, nothing,” Will swoops in to answer El’s question and joins Mike where he stands, looking a little flustered. “He means, like, metaphorically.”

“Right.” El doesn’t look like she really buys it, but she doesn’t have any follow-ups to add, so it’s a win.

Will and Mike join El on the floor, looking at the collection of movies sprawled out on the floor and making idle conversation. Mike’s mom and Will’s mom exchange greetings and bags, whatever they do. That type of thing is the least of his concerns when he’s sitting next to Will.

In the most objective way possible, Will has a beautiful face. Everyone knows this, but it’s hard not to stare when he’s so pretty. Like, Mike pities anyone who’s never had the opportunity to look into the eyes of Will Byers.

In a normal way, of course, but they’re missing out. They’re especially missing out on how you can rarely fully see them because his hair’s grown out and it gets in the way sometimes. He constantly tries to brush it out, but it always falls back in. It’s adorable. You’d just have to see it.

None of this is said in a weird way, more just a man admiring another man’s undeniable otherworldly beauty, but what better time than the present to do a little bit of staring before the rest of his friends show up? Max is brutal about this type of thing, because she insists it isn’t normal, but she also doesn’t know anything. Mike is allowed to say that because it’s in his head.

Mike is brought back to reality when his mom opens the door to leave, and is met with Dustin, Lucas and Max together at the door. He hasn’t been listening to whatever El and/or Will have been saying for the past ten minutes, but he manages to sit up straight and say hi once his mom leaves and his friends enter.

“What’s up guys,” Max closes the door behind her and leads the other two to join everyone else on the floor.

Mike says hi again, fidgeting a little with his hands and shuffling ever so slightly closer to Will, so their shoulders just barely touch. Everyone else is already in classic conversation, but Mike is having a hard time focusing. A harder time than usual.

Lucas looks at the movies on the floor, putting on a serious face and evaluating the group’s options carefully. Mike pretends to be fully focused, but he keeps glancing to the side. He almost thinks that has something to do with the fact that Will is sitting beside him. Almost.

“Oh, how about this one?” Dustin points to a cover that looks incredibly cheaply made, smiling. “I’ve heard it’s horrible.”

Will’s smile drops ever so slightly. Mike thinks he’s the only one who notices.

As all friend groups do, Mike and his friends love bad movies. Especially Mike, actually. Nothing is more hilarious to him. And, perhaps he’s more focused on Will than he is on the movie, but Will doesn’t look thrilled. It’s strange, because he likes bad movies. Everyone does.

“Yeah, me too,” El observes, “I think Will’s seen it before. Was it bad?”

Will frowns and shrugs his shoulders. Everyone takes that as a yes.

“Good enough for me.” Lucas unzips his backpack and pulls out every snack imaginable, as El and Max put on the movie and move up to the couch, and Dustin turns the lights off. Will scoots just the tiniest bit closer to Mike, pressing their shoulders a bit closer together. Mike’s heart does something strange.

The movie starts. The opening credits are humorously low quality.

Lucas’s snacks are shared around, Mike getting the full bag of salted popcorn, because it’s one of the best things ever created and everyone else thinks it’s an abomination.

Max once said it doesn’t taste like anything. Even thinking about that moment makes Mike want to—

Actually, he can’t go off on this right now. Max knows nothing.

Will likes sweet and salted. It’s definitely a great flavor.

As for everyone else, Mike couldn’t care less. He loves his friends, but does anyone seriously think he has the time or energy to remember their favorite popcorn flavors? Something so trivial.

About twenty minutes go by, and the movie’s pretty funny. Mike has popcorn in his teeth, which sucks, but everyone else is having fun. Lucas is laid on his back on the floor and laughing hysterically, as Dustin and El point out every plot hole and continuity error and Max complains.

Will isn’t having fun, though. His face is red, but not really in the cute way like usual. If anything, he just looks really embarrassed.

“There is no way that they’re using the power of friendship twenty minutes in,” Max whines, “this is supposed to be a supernatural romcom, not My Little Pony.”

“God, this is embarrassing,” Will mutters under his breath and rubs his temples, and Mike almost didn’t catch what he said. He stands up before Mike can ask what’s wrong. “I’ll be right back. Going to the bathroom.”

Dustin calls back an “okay”, before he goes back to grinning and watching the movie.

Even though it’s a warm evening, Mike’s shoulder feels cold with the absence of Will.

Unfortunately, Mike is a worried guy, especially when it comes to Will, and he desperately wants to find out what’s embarrassing him. Even though Will’s only been gone for three minutes, Mike can hardly focus on how bad what they’re watching is.

Eventually, he decides to do something he knows he’ll get questioned for, and it’s probably not the most reasonable choice.

“Alright, I’m gonna go pee,” Mike stands up and stretches his arms, as Lucas spares him a weird glance.

“With Will?” Max raises an eyebrow.

“No, I just need to use the bathroom. I’ll wait for him to get out.” Mike’s excuse is far too flimsy, considering that he could just wait while sitting down and it would make zero difference, but no one really fights it. Mike thinks that his friends know that fighting him on his illogical decisions is far from worth it now.

“Okay,” Dustin sounds unconvinced, sipping at his Dr Pepper. Second can.

It’s fine. Mike doesn’t need his friends to believe him. They’re more focused on the movie.

He clears his throat and knocks on the bathroom door, trying to be as polite as possible about it.

“Mike?” Will’s voice comes from the inside of the bathroom. Mike thinks that he can hear a slight smile in Will’s voice, though he isn’t sure.

“Yeah.” Mike confirms, bringing a hand up to the doorknob. “Are you using this thing?”

“Not really,” Will admits, and there’s a beat. “You can come in if you want.”

Perhaps Mike really doesn’t realize that their friendship is a little strange, which comes to his mind when he smiles at what Will says, since it’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

Mike opens the door a crack, trying to step in without being all too noticeable. He hears a “what the hell are they doing” from Lucas, but he doesn’t know if he’s talking about the movie or Will and Mike.

Will’s leaning against the wall, his face buried in his hands and quite red. He seems to be grinning, but it’s more of that smile out of humiliation than one out of happiness.

“Something wrong?” Mike steps into the room and carefully closes the door behind him. “I was kind of worried.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Will’s face turns even redder, “it’s kind of stupid. You shouldn’t have been worried.”

“Yeah, but…” Mike makes his way over to where Will is standing. “I was.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Will’s smile softens, “I’m just a little embarrassed is all.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Will looks hesitant to say it. “I’ve seen that movie before, and I actually liked it.”

“Really?” Mike’s kind of surprised by such a thing. He isn’t really willing to take back his whole thing of Will having entirely correct opinions, but yikes.

“I watched it on that day a couple months ago when I was off school—”

“The worst day of my life?” Mike interjects, and Will laughs, though Mike isn’t joking.

“—And I thought it was good.” Will scratches the back of his head. “And I was, like, delirious as well, so now that everyone’s pointing out everything about it that sucks, I feel really stupid that I ever found anything to like about it.”

Mike laughs. Honestly, that’s sort of adorable, but he doesn’t know if he can say that.

“Come on, that’s not that embarrassing,” Mike tries to make him feel better. “I mean, some of it had promise—”

“It’s horrible, Mike,” Will laughs at the attempt, which is nice to see. “And I know it’s stupid, because I have no right to feel like this about something so trivial, but, you know…”

Will seems to struggle to find the words to articulate his point. Mike smiles.

“I know.” Mike confirms, and Will’s face seems to cool down a bit, as his smile melts into an actual one. Mike loves it. Mike loves him. What? That wasn’t right.

Moving on.

“Okay, but this is going to my grave, understand?” Will points a playfully stern finger towards Mike. “You aren’t telling anyone that I once liked this garbage.”

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal…” Mike’s expression softens, because he’s far too endeared right now. He does realize that he’s kind of a hypocrite, because Will’s usually the one having to tell Mike that he’s being too dramatic. Mike thinks that Will’s picked up on a couple of Mike’s habits. “But I won’t say anything to our four teenage friends.”

There’s an air of sarcasm about Mike’s voice, one that makes Will chuckle. Then, Mike is struck by an idea, because he’s once again been granted the luck of a God.

“I promise.” Mike adds the cherry on top to this interaction, and he tries desperately not to let his smile widen.

Somehow, Will looks to know exactly where this one is going.

“Mike…” Will's voice turns breathy, but he’s still smiling. “Are you doing this again?”

“It’s my thing now,” Mike proudly declares, “plus, it’s worked both times we’ve done it.”

“As would any other way to make a promise.” Will points out, looking amused at Mike’s possibly slightly flawed logic.

“Okay, that might be true,” Mike considers, “but, this one also really works. Come on, think about it. It’s the—”

“Optimal way to make a promise, I know,” Will rolls his eyes, and he presses his back further into the wall, reaching a hand out and running it lightly over the front of Mike’s shirt. Mike gets a feeling he can only describe as weird.

“Because it is!” Mike defends himself, gaining consciousness halfway through his sentence and realizing that he’s a fucking loser.

All of this just to kiss a boy that he isn’t even slightly romantically interested in. Maybe with tongue this time.

No, definitely with tongue this time. It still sounds gross, but he’s looking at Will right now and he’s decided he wants it.

“You don’t even have to do something as strong as a promise in this situation,” Will points out the most glaring flaw in Mike’s thinking, which Mike was hoping he wouldn’t do. “You can just say you won’t tell our friends I liked a bad movie.”

“Yeah, but…” Mike struggles to think of a good reason. “Promises are cooler. For effect, you know?”

“Sometimes I don't understand you, Mike.” Will shakes his head, but his face is still pink and his smile has not faded.

“That’s a lie.”

“It really isn’t.” Will tilts his head so slightly that Mike almost misses it, and places an arm on Mike’s shoulder.

Will’s hands are unexpectedly warm as Mike feels Will’s fingertips on the back of his neck, pressing in slightly and almost gesturing for Mike to take a step closer. All of a sudden, his heart is beating really fast. Too fast. Like a medical emergency.

Though this is what he wants, he suddenly becomes awkward as he follows Will’s silent direction and steps closer.

Perhaps he takes too big of a step, because they were just at a normal and safe distance and now their noses are almost touching, and Mike can feel Will’s breath.

Will places his other arm on Mike’s other shoulder, joining his hands at the back of Mike’s neck and using them to pull Mike just slightly closer.

Mike goes for the waist, trying to move his hands to an awkward position so they can hold Will’s waist without hitting the wall. It doesn’t exactly work, but it’ll do. Mike doesn’t expect this one to last for too long anyway.

“So is that a yes?” Mike’s voice is low and his growing smile is slightly smug.

“Don’t push your luck with me, Mike.” Will’s smile matches Mike’s, though it lands a little crooked and Mike thinks it looks a bit nervous.

Man, Will’s eyes really are beautiful. Mike has pretty much just talked about it, but looking into them from this distance feels unreal. He loses himself for a second in the staring, almost forgetting his objective.

It feels like a loss to have to close his eyes and stop gazing into Will’s, but he doesn’t want to risk making anything painfully awkward, so he eventually leans into Will, as Will’s eyes start to drift closed and his mouth parts a little.

Just like the first two, the feeling when he first kisses Will is like he just lit every single one of his organs on fire, except ten times more intense.

He moves his hands a little, tilts his head to the side a bit, and tries to get as comfortable as possible before trying to decide if he should go for gold or not. Maybe he shouldn’t. What if Will finds it gross? But at the same time, Mike really wants to.

It’s almost concerning how synced that Will and Mike seem to be. Either Will can read Mike’s mind or he just knows him well enough to know exactly what he wants, but either way, Will decides this time to keep his mouth parted just enough for him to be able to slip his tongue through.

Mike would be embarrassed to relay to anyone the noise he makes — a shaky, drawn-out hum of satisfaction from the back of his throat when he feels what Will does — allowing his own mouth to open a little bit and practically trembling where he stands.

The entire thing is kind of humiliating, partly because he hadn’t expected to like the sensation so much, and partly because he hadn’t expected his reaction to be so visceral, but he can hardly bring himself to be embarrassed right about now.

Will Byers’s warm hands are pressing against the back of Mike’s neck, pushing them together as Will’s tongue is just about in Mike’s mouth, something which has absolutely no right to feel as good as it does.

Mike tilts his head a little further, touching his tongue against Will’s. Will lets out a quiet, muffled noise. Mike can hardly believe what he’s doing.

It’s gross, but he can’t get enough.

He loses himself in the feeling. Scraps the waist thing. He moves his hands up to lay flat on Will’s chest, bending his arms to press himself impossibly further into him. The rest of their friends are the least of Mike’s concerns.

His stomach is on the pole vault. His brain has completely turned into mush by now, but that’s fine. As long as he can get just one more second with Will—

The two stop dead in their tracks, Will choking down a small noise when they hear a knock at the door.

This time, they don’t quite jump off of each other. In fact, they stay quite close. Mike’s hands are still laid on Will’s chest, as Will slightly loosens his grip on the back of Mike’s neck.

“What the hell are you guys doing in there?” A voice calls from outside the door, followed by more knocking. It sounds like Dustin.

Will looks at Mike in a way that says he can’t believe what they’ve just done. Mike looks at Will in a way that acknowledges that they’ve almost been caught.

“Some people need to pee!” Dustin continues, and Will finally snaps back into reality, after a couple of painful but also magical seconds of staring and heavy breathing.

“Oh, um, sorry!” Will calls back, and Mike sighs in relief. “We’ll be out in just a second! Come back in a minute.”

Will moves his arms back down to his side, as does Mike. Mike takes a sizeable step away from Will, still feeling a bit awkward.

“Yeah, okay,” Dustin huffs from outside the door, and it sounds like he leaves.

Mike clears his throat. Should he say something?

“You know what?” Will whispers, trying to make sure that no one hears him through the house’s walls. “I think I’m getting good at this.”

“At what?”

“At this kissing thing.” Will clarifies, hushing his voice even more when he says the word “kissing”. “I even tried something new. You know, that thing, I’ve never done it before.” Will chokes out an awkward whisper, as if it took all of his courage to point that out.

Mike is pretty sure he knows what the thing is, and he keeps replaying the memory, though it was only, like, twenty seconds ago.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was— it was great.” Mike whispers honestly, his face somehow feeling even hotter than it already did, because he worries what Will is going to think now that Mike’s admitted that he actually enjoyed the kiss outside of its sole purpose of the swear. “You’re good.”

“Thank you.” Will fidgets with his hands. “You, uh, you too.”

More knocking at the door.

“What happened to being out in a second?” Dustin’s voice comes back. “You guys can suck face literally anywhere else, but leave the bathroom for the rest of us!”

Will and Mike share a look and laugh a little, because Dustin’s joking, but also totally right. Mike bets that Will feels a little bad that they’ve spent so long in the bathroom.

“Sorry!” Will calls, and he grabs Mike’s arm to lead him to the door.

A very unamused Dustin is at the other side of the door when Will opens it, Will offering an apologetic smile, and Mike offering nothing, because after what just happened he might as well be on another planet right now.

“Finally,” Dustin groans, swapping places with them and making his way into the bathroom. “What the hell were you guys—”

Will tightens his grip and Mike’s arm and pulls him away before Dustin can finish his question, which works well because neither of them want to answer it. It’s not exactly a situation that they could have any believable excuse in.

Will and Mike take their previous spots on the floor of the room, trying to adjust themselves to the new context of the movie after missing some content.

“And where have you guys been?” Max asks casually, and Mike feels his face redden.

“Oh, nowhere,” Mike tries, “just, you know. Talking. And stuff.”

“You two are so weird,” Max sounds incredulous and sarcastic at the same time.

“You guys missed an important plot point in the movie while you were gone,” El comments, completely engrossed.

“Are any of the plot points important?” Lucas asks, and he has a point. Then, he turns his head back to Max and El. “They probably snuck off to make out or something.”

“Did not,” Mike gets defensive, because he doesn’t like how his friends’ jokes are becoming reminiscent of reality. Will stifles a laugh, picking up his bag of sweet and salted popcorn.

“Yeah, whatever,” Max waves an arm to the TV screen, “just watch the movie. Laughing about how bad it is works best when there’s all of us.”

Mike thinks that’s Max’s way of saying that she likes having Mike around, which he could make a comment about, but he’s also touching shoulders with Will Byers right now, and his brain has drawn a complete blank.

Will and Mike share a look. Will’s face goes pink as he looks back at the movie, because it’s batshit and Will knows it.

Things try to go back to normal, but there’s something heavy in the atmosphere for the entire night.

Mike has found his strange addiction.

Considering the amount of times that Mike and Will have now kissed — three, to be exact — Mike feels the need to get one thing straight, which is that he is.

This information has probably already been made incredibly obvious, but he might need to clarify it for good measure because of his various reactions to such interactions.

Mike has obviously kissed people before, with tongue as well, but it has never been the best experience. It’s different with Will because they’re best friends.

Maybe Mike has already said that before, but he would hate anyone getting the wrong idea about his friendship with Will. This is normal. And it’s kind of disgusting, because Will’s a boy, but in a good way.

That’s what’s been throwing Mike for a loop recently. Though kissing is, as established, a non-romantic act of trust, it’s still kind of weird, right? Especially because he keeps thinking about it. It’s supposed to be romantic in the media, so maybe it’s a little weird because he’s been doing a lot of thinking about jamming his tongue in Will’s mouth as of late.

Gross, he knows, but also good. When with Will, tongue equals good. He thinks.

He might actually have to try it again, now that he thinks about it, just to be one hundred percent sure.

The whole point is, he’s wondering if it’s getting a little weird. He keeps automatically thinking that he has feelings for Will and then he has to remind himself that he doesn’t. Is that weird?

It most likely isn’t. People have strange thoughts all the time. They mean absolutely nothing.

He’s just a tiny bit concerned, because it feels like every time he looks at Will, he starts to see him as a tiny bit more than just his best friend, which is horrifying.

Mike would never like Will like that. Unless he does. No, he doesn’t. Will is a guy, and he’s pretty positive that Will would never like him, either. Just a strictly platonic relationship between two guys. Nothing to see here.

It’s totally reasonable to kiss Will if it’s for the experiment. He’s just seeing if the spit swap spit swear works, which, by the way, it totally does. It’s definitely his go-to now.

What he’s wondering is if it’s normal to like it so much. Of course, kissing is an act of pleasure, or else people wouldn’t do it, but he’s starting to think that kissing Will is a bit too pleasurable, especially considering that all of his other experiences with it have been anything but.

It’s probably because Will’s amazing at kissing, which Mike feels like he doesn’t give him enough credit for. Mike is considering that the reason Will’s so good at it is because he’s actually used it to cast some crazy-love spell on Mike, sorcerer-style.

Actually, he’s taking back his use of the word “love”, since he isn’t actually in love with Will.

The point is, Will’s, like, magical. He’s really soft and gentle and almost kind of hesitant at times, but Mike thinks he’s gotten more confident with the most recent one, and he somehow knows exactly what Mike likes.

Mike himself didn’t even know what he liked until last week.

It’s great, truly, but thinking about it still makes Mike twist in his seat. Whether in a good way or bad way, he doesn’t know. That’s why he’s finding himself strangely addicted to the way Will kisses him, and why he’s wondering just exactly how normal that is in male friendships, because it’s just occurred to him that no one has ever talked about this in male friendships.

Will’s brother doesn’t kiss Steve Harrington— actually, no, that’s a bad example — Dustin doesn’t kiss Lucas. Mike doesn’t kiss Dustin. So what’s different?

It gives Mike a headache every time he thinks about it. He desperately wants to consult a friend on this matter, but he also doesn’t feel like he should tell anyone about this.

The way it happens feels completely taboo. Like, no one can ever find out. Mike thinks that adds on to why it feels so strangely intimate.

He’s resigned himself to never knowing. He isn’t in love with Will, and there aren’t many other explanations for such a feeling, so he’s going to assume that Will’s just really really good at kissing, and he’s going to move on with his life.

The only thing that Mike really needs to know is when they’re going to do it again.

For Will and Mike’s official fourth kiss, Mike plans for it to last just about over fifteen seconds.

Ambitious, he knows, but the last one was about twelve seconds, so Mike thinks that this one is completely doable, as long as Will’s down for it.

He’s already planning this one out, actually. He’s thinking that he might cup Will’s face with his hands this time, because he’s gone for the waist twice in a row and he wants some variety so Will doesn’t get bored of him.

Plus, he would really like Will to put his hands on his waist this time, because he doesn’t feel like Will’s ever done that. Mike has the notion that anything to do with the waist is automatically hot, and he wants to see Will’s take on that.

He isn’t sure quite why it being hot has anything to do with this, but he’ll go with it.

Last time he had Will pushed up against a wall, which was thrilling. He definitely wants to do the wall thing again, though he doesn’t really mind whether it’s him or Will pressed against the wall this time around. He’s imagined both scenarios in his head and he has no specific preference, as long as a wall is involved.

Definitely tongue, because it’s really oddly awesome, but he wishes he would stop thinking about it because it’s still kind of gross and his brain will melt if he thinks too much about the fact that it’s Will Byers he wants to do that with.

That’s how he ideally imagines this one to go, so he’s got his fingers crossed that it will go his way. He just needs to find a way to turn something into a promise, the gateway to everything good in life.

It’s actually pretty easy, as long as he has anything that he needs to commit to, he can just slap the magic word onto it and he thinks Will will get it now.

Promise is kind of a big word, and he might be overusing it a bit, but that hardly matters. He never breaks them regardless.

An opportunity is presented at Will’s house, yet again, on a bland Monday evening and getting ready for Max’s competition in Will’s room.

Today is a very exciting day for Mike, because this is the last day of his torturous run of being nice to Max, so he stayed at Will’s to study a little for the afternoon before leaving to watch Max skateboard or something, which is nice.

Will puts the flash cards down. That’s the most relieving thing Mike has seen all week, because he must have some kind of PTSD from flash cards. They’re horrible.

“Okay, we don’t have long until we have to leave,” Will stretches and stands up from his bed, and Mike follows him up. “I’m excited to watch Max. She’s gonna be great.”

Mike wants to say something, but he bites his tongue, because he doesn’t want Will to give him a disapproving look.

In the end, he gives a half-hearted “yeah”, which makes Will laugh a little.

“Mike,” Will crosses his arms and gives the look regardless of Mike’s efforts. Mike’s already desperate for a promise to make just by the way Will says his name. “You’re going to support her, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am!” Mike places a hand on his chest, feigning offence at the notion that he wouldn’t.

“And no sort of negative comments?” Will raises an eyebrow, not quite buying it. “You guys have been friends for ages, so I think it’s in your budget to give her some support.”

“I give her plenty of support,” Mike pretends to be offended once more. “Remember that one time when I… said that nice thing?”

“That time last week?” Will seems to know exactly what Mike is talking about, which might say something about how frequently Mike is nice to Max. “Come on, this means a lot to her. She’s been working really hard. And you know she’s good at skateboarding.”

Unfortunately, Will is a reasonable person who makes sense, and his gorgeous eyes and pleading expression make it all too hard for Mike to even imagine saying no.

“I know,” Mike fidgets with the hem of his shirt.

“Just…” Will averts his gaze. He looks like he might regret what he says next. “Promise me you’ll actually be nice instead of just not being mean?”

Oh.

It is all too easy.

“Fine,” Mike attempts to pretend that this is any sort of loss for him, “I’ll do this for you. In fact, I’ll spit swear it to you.”

Will unfolds his arms. His mouth turns up a little bit, but he looks like he tries to hide it. There’s silence, so Mike specifies as his face turns a little hot.

“Spit swap-style.”

It looks like Will takes a second to think, tapping his chin in a way that seems playful. He’s smiling now.

“Sure,” Will nods.

“Wow, you aren’t even going to fight me on it this time?” Mike grins, trying to mask his excitement with sarcasm.

“The method has grown on me,” Will admits, “of course, as long as you think it works, I’m fine with it. But we have to go soon, so I’ll change my mind if you stall.”

“Oh, I would never stall, Will,” Mike steps closer, and Will steps back. “Who do you think I am?”

Mike wonders if their fun pre-promise banter is anything adjacent to flirting, a concept which has only popped into his head just now. If it is, does that make it romantic? What exactly is the criteria?

Whatever. This can’t be his concern right now, because he doesn’t want Will to change his mind.

He takes another step forward, and he takes a few more, until Will’s backed against the wall, cheeks flushed and his hair falling into his eyes.

For reasons Mike can’t explain, he acts on an impulsive urge to bring a hand up to move Will’s hair out of his eyes, the view of them a little clearer and they’re all sparkly and wide and filled with wonder.

It looks like Will spaces out for a second. His cheeks go pinker.

“By the way,” It seems like Will snaps back into reality, “the, um, the taste might be a bit different today. I’m using a new chapstick that El gave to me.”

“Right,” Mike says, his voice basically a whisper.

He doesn’t know what else to say. Should he ask the flavor? No, that’s stupid. He’s literally about to find out. He should just go for it.

Mike leans forward, staring for a second but eventually forcing his eyes shut. He hears Will let out a breath that he might have been holding, and then Mike doesn’t hear anything else for a solid second as he cups Will’s face with his hands and goes in for the official fourth kiss.

He thinks this time that the usual feeling is amplified by Will once again knowing exactly what Mike wants, placing his hands on Mike’s waist, his grip somehow firm but gentle at the same time.

Undeniably, it’s hot.

Mike presses in, trying to swallow the intense burning feeling that ignites in his whole body and how it feels when Will puts his hands somewhere as simple as Mike’s waist.

Will was right, it does taste different. Sweet. Mike can tell immediately that it’s vanilla.

It’s nice. Actually, it’s really nice. It’s almost too nice, Mike doesn’t know how much further he can push Will against the wall, but he still feels like he wants more of everything that Will’s offering him.

Will’s a decent deal more confident now, something which makes Mike happy, because he thinks that Will is more comfortable. He kisses Mike like he really knows how.

He definitely really knows how.

After a few seconds, Mike gains the confidence to open his mouth a little, initiating what his brain calls “tongue time”, something he almost physically cringes at thinking.

It’s a weird feeling when Mike does it, but Will parts his mouth with a hum and swipes his tongue over Mike’s, an action which makes Mike’s knees buckle and makes him let out another rather humiliating noise.

Mike struggles to stand up straight as he runs the tips of his fingers through Will’s hair, adjusting the way he holds Will’s face, which is burning hot. Will tightens the grip he has on Mike’s waist, sort of pulling him up.

That’s actually a great help for Mike, because the way that Will’s lips taste like vanilla and his tongue is in direct contact with Mike’s and he keeps making small noises is guaranteed to make Mike collapse without some sort of anchor. He wouldn’t be surprised if this one sends him into a coma.

Mike pulls away, opening his eyes a little and staying very close to Will, whose face is unexpectedly red and his hair is back in his eyes.

Will’s voice is breathless as he whispers Mike’s name, and his eyes are half-lidded, and, though Mike thinks this might be against the rules of the spit swap spit swear, just the way that Will says his name is enough to switch Mike’s brain off and make him go back in.

Rationally, he shouldn’t, but Mike has long since given up on thinking rationally, as Will immediately welcomes the second round of contact.

Mike isn’t thinking, he isn’t counting seconds, he allows himself to concentrate solely on the way Will’s thumbs drop to play with the hem of Mike’s shirt and the addictive flavor he leaves in Mike’s mouth.

It’s hot. The weather outside today is no grand help, but Mike’s on fire, inside and outside, and Will’s skin is hot as well.

Somewhere down the line, Mike gets experimental. Touches his tongue on the roof of Will’s mouth. This time, the sound that Will makes is just a little louder than usual. Suddenly, it’s even hotter.

At any rate, Mike wouldn’t be surprised if he went up in flames, but he isn’t entirely bothered by that idea, not with the reality he’s living right now.

Mike’s all out of breath when he breaks away again, letting his hands drop to Will’s shoulders. All Mike can hear is the mixture of heavy breathing between them.

Will’s eyes are still wide and shining. Mike tries to decode what emotion they’re supposed to be conveying, but it’s like his brain gives up on seeing clearly for a hot second.

A very, very hot second.

Will’s mouth is red and still a little open and Mike tries not to think about how his tongue was just in there. Will’s face looks frozen in time.

Once again, Mike moves a hand to adjust Will’s hair again, without spending a moment thinking about it. Will’s expression stays the same.

After a second, or an hour, Will clears his throat.

“That was—”

“—Sweet,” Mike interjects with the first adjective that comes to mind after he quickly relearns the entire English language.

“Yeah, you could say that—”

“I mean, it was sweet, like,” Mike attempts to articulate a very simple thought, which makes him feel stupid, “the taste of your,” he shouldn’t have tried to say anything, “lips.”

Still a disgusting word. Will nods, his face still looking dazed.

“Oh, yeah,” Will’s eyes widen slightly, “it’s, um—”

“—Vanilla.” Mike finishes his sentence, and he feels incredibly rude. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I keep interrupting you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Will breathes out a laugh, and his expression starts to soften to its neutral place.

“Well, I like it,” Mike doesn’t know why he’s still talking, “the chapstick, I mean. It’s good.”

“Thank you,” Will nods, “you’re good, too. At kissing. You’re good at kissing.”

“Thanks,” Mike subconsciously fidgets with Will’s shirt collar, “you’re amazing at kissing.”

Will says the third thank you in a row, before releasing his grip on Mike’s waist, and Mike realizes he’s an idiot who should probably break contact right about now.

Mike’s hands are almost unwilling to move from Will’s shoulders, one sliding down Will’s shirt and the other one clinging to the same place, still playing with Will’s collar.

“We should get going,” Will whispers, sounding as if he’s made a big revelation.

It’s a big revelation to Mike, because he completely forgot about the whole competition thing.

“Oh my god, yeah,” Mike forces his hand off of Will’s shoulder and takes a step back, “let’s go. Do you think we’ll be late?”

It takes Will a second to step away from the wall and respond.

“I don’t think so,” he responds, “but we might be if we don’t hurry up.”

“Right.” Mike looks around Will’s room for anything he needs to take, but his eyes keep drifting back to the spot on the wall that Will was just pushed up against.

He isn’t really focusing.

For some reason, it seems like Will isn’t either.

After that, things don’t really feel like they go back to normal.

There is nothing in the fridge.

On a mildly hot Wednesday afternoon in the middle of spring, in which Mike is home alone so he can actually eat anything without getting judgemental looks from Holly, this condition is sub-optimal.

He’s been checking the fridge every two minutes for the past hour, hoping that something he wants to eat will just magically appear, which doesn’t happen

However, he gets the bright idea to check his freezer somewhere in his boredom, and manage to salvage a singular ice cream cone that might have been in the back of the freezer since he was fifteen.

Mike will eat any flavor of ice cream, to be honest, so he doesn’t check twice before unwrapping the cone and dramatically leaning on his kitchen counter.

Vanilla. Man, he hopes that flavor doesn’t give him any flashbacks that might destroy his ability to focus on anything for the next two to three business days.

He’s kidding, it’s definitely doing that.

He inspects the ice cream, and he thinks he knows that he should do something classy like put it back in the freezer, but he’s hungry and ice cream is ice cream, so he decides to brace himself for any images of a certain someone that may flood his mind.

Turns out, everything vanilla flavored tastes the exact same, and he thinks he may start violently convulsing any second at the memory of tongue kissing Will.

As he has with all other occurrences of this incident since Dustin came up with his stupidly brilliant idea, Mike’s been thinking about this fourth one a lot.

It was a little awkward throughout Max’s competition thing, something which El picked up on, and Mike truthfully doesn’t think things have really gone back to normal since.

It’s not weird, Will and Mike aren’t avoiding each other, but something in the air feels different between them. It feels like they should kiss again.

Max came second place in her competition anyway, and Mike managed to keep both promises he made relating to it, so a win is a win, but all of Mike’s interactions with Will as of now are driving him nuts and Will’s stupid chapstick has permanently altered Mike’s perception of vanilla.

This stupid ice cream is making Mike want to kiss Will even more. He wonders if Will’s going to wear that chapstick again.

Maybe. Probably. It would make Mike very happy.

Mike’s found himself wondering a lot about this one, like, does Will think about this as much as Mike does? To Will, Mike imagines this type of deal is totally normal. Mike’s probably being weird about it.

Will definitely doesn’t dislike kissing Mike, as Mike has inferred, but how much does he enjoy it? Does that say anything about Will’s feelings?

Frankly, it’s too much for an afternoon where he planned to do nothing, but he has all of these thoughts on what’s weird and what’s not and he has no one to talk about them with. He’s actively blocking out any thought that asks about his own feelings.

He wants a distraction, and he’s about halfway through his ice cream cone when his prayers are answered, and the phone rings.

He hopes it’s Will. God, he hopes it’s Will. He hopes it’s Will asking to come over and sort of making fun of Mike in that way where his smile is audible and Mike’s insides might turn to goo even thinking about it.

Now, a rational human being would say that calling Will, inviting him over and potentially spit swap spit swear-ing with him will actually not take his mind off of spit swap spit swear-ing with Will, but Mike can also do whatever he wants.

He’s hit by a rush of glee as he picks up the phone and leaves his ice cream cone on the counter on a piece of tissue, like a psychopath, he knows, but Will’s more important than his ice cream.

Logically, they both taste the same, but one is Will Byers, so you tell Mike which is more worth it.

Mike picks up the phone, and he can’t even get out a trying-to-be-nonchalant “hello?” before his ear is taken off by the sound of a voice that isn’t Will’s.

He seems to have forgotten in his delusional bliss that a call to the Wheeler household when he’s home alone isn’t actually guaranteed to be Will.

“Are you out of your mind?” The voice sounds quite pissed off, and Mike regrets that this is who he gave up his ice cream for, because it’s currently out of his reach.

Mike’s a little stunned for a second, but he makes a quick recovery and articulates a response.

“Hello to you too, Dustin,” Mike still takes the trying-to-be-nonchalant root, because he has no clue what would warrant this. Out of the whole Party, Dustin is one of the ones who Mike pisses off the least.

“What possessed you to think that it would be a good idea to start casually making out with Will?” Dustin continues talking, and Mike’s eyes widen. “Because I know damn well the Mind Flayer isn’t back.”

“Well, I think that making out is a bit of a stretch,” Mike tries to play it cool, but there’s only one question he has to ask before he gets his shit rocked by Dustin. “How did you know?”

“Will told me everything,” Dustin explains, “he was asking for advice.”

“Advice about what?”

“That doesn’t concern you.” Dustin’s voice immediately turns cold, and Mike shuts up. “What the hell is wrong with you? I thought we were both making fun of kissing games, and then you go and use mine with Will? And you tell him it’s popular?”

“Yeah, that…” Mike had almost forgotten he did that. “Did you blow my cover when he told you that?”

“I told him that I heard it was popular and told you about it,” Dustin says, and Mike breathes a sigh of relief that he thinks Dustin can hear through the phone.

“Thank you, man. You’re seriously the best—”

“We’re not done here.” Dustin is unfortunately smart enough to cut Mike off, because Mike would have hung up immediately after getting his sentence through. “Just because I didn’t let you seem delusional in front of Will doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed. You’ve kissed him four times in the past week!”

“Well, yeah, but, it was for the joke, you know—”

“Four times, Mike. There is no joke that requires that.” There’s silence on the other side of the line for a second, followed by an exasperated sigh. “I mean, I get that you like him and everything, but you ought to tell him that before you start kissing him.”

“What do you mean I like him?” Mike gets really defensive really fast. “I never even implied that I liked him.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” He seems to be pissing Dustin off more. “You tongue kissed him twice! To normal people, that’s something you would do after telling him you like him.”

“That’s not true,” Mike doesn’t have a real defence, “it was all platonic, truly. Kissing isn’t overtly romantic.”

“Kissing is about the only thing that society agrees on being overtly romantic,” Dustin sighs again, “do you live under a rock?”

“Not entirely,” Mike tries to reason, pressing the phone closer to his ear. “It can be— interpreted… in different ways.”

“It cannot.” Dustin says plainly, before moving onto his next point. “Will said you initiated all of them, which means that you were a fan. What do you think that means, Mike?”

“That he’s an objectively good kisser?” Mike throws on a crooked smile, which he thinks comes through in his voice. “Trust me man, you’d just have to know.”

“You only think he’s such a good kisser because you like kissing him!” Dustin shoots back, and Mike glances back at his half-eaten ice cream cone. “You wouldn’t say the same thing about El, and El is a good kisser.”

“But, like…” Mike trails off, because he decides it’s best not to make a point, rather to ask a burning question that just showed up in his mind. “Does Will enjoy kissing me?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Mike is too upset to answer back.

“See? The fact that you care about this in the slightest says everything that needs to be said,” Dustin sounds like he thinks he’s proved a valuable point. “This is the least normal thing I’ve ever heard of anyone doing in any friendship.”

“But does Will enjoy kissing me?” Mike decides to tactically avoid Dustin’s point by repeating his unanswered question.

“I’m not answering that,” Dustin responds, admittedly quite reasonably. “But you’re being really selfish, man.”

“How?” Mike’s a little surprised by the use of such a word. “How am I being selfish?”

“You can’t have your cake and eat it too, dude.”

“You know, I’ve never really understood that phrase—”

“It’s not fair on Will to do all this and not tell him how you feel first.” Dustin shoots down Mike’s attempt to change the topic. “I get that you’re kind of denying it, but realistically, how long is this going to go on? Things will get a million times more complicated if making out becomes a regular.”

Okay, first of all — Mike is not denying any sort of feelings for Will. He does not have them. This has been made incredibly clear.

“I am not denying anything,” Mike tries, “and it’s going to be fine. Everything’s been completely normal between us. Nothing’s going to change if we kiss a couple times a day—”

“A couple times a day?” Dustin sounds both incredulous and disappointed.

“—Because we know that we’re best friends,” Mike continues, “and we only do it to complete the promise.”

“The spit swap spit swear is bullshit and you fully know that,” Dustin says, and he isn’t technically wrong. “I came up with it in two seconds to make fun of its premise. The kiss doesn’t do jackshit and you’ve never needed a “more effective way” to make a promise in your life. You just say your word and stick to it, man. In no world has tongue kissing ever been necessary.”

“Yeah, but it helps,” Mike knows he can’t convince Dustin of any of his logic. “I’m telling you, you were onto something. I’ve been doing this to test how good it is.”

“No, you haven’t.” Dustin’s voice raises a bit, and Mike pulls the phone away from his ear a little. “You’ve been using my bullshit idea as an excuse to get what you want without actually having to confront your feelings!”

“What feelings?” Mike gets defensive again, though he knows what feelings Dustin is referring to.

“You’re an idiot, Mike,” Dustin sighs yet again, "I just went through this. You are so painfully obviously in love with Will, and I know you’re only doing this so you can act on your feelings and not have to accept that they’re there.”

“Okay, that is not true,” Mike points a finger as if Dustin can see his gesture, “and who said anything about love?”

“Everyone!” Dustin has an answer to Mike’s semi-rhetorical question. “Everyone knows that you’re head over heels for him. If you don’t want people to think that, then you should probably stop making out with him at any given convenience.”

“We were not making out,” Mike clarifies, “and I don’t even like him like that. I definitely can’t love him like that.”

“Talking to you is like walking in a massive circle,” Dustin sounds more frustrated with each word, “if you want to believe that you want to kiss him so bad because you’re really good friends, then knock yourself out. But that’s going to hurt you, and it’s going to hurt Will, so you’ll tell him you love him if you know what’s best.”

“That isn’t what’s best.”

“And I can’t convince you otherwise.” Mike thinks he hears Dustin shrug his shoulders. “This is what I’m talking about. You won’t face it. You’re, like, six feet deep in denial when you’d rather be six feet deep in him.”

“That’s inappropriate.”

“But it’s true,” Dustin sounds a little proud of his line, “and you need to tell him something about your feelings because we both know they’re there.”

“Okay,” Mike leans against the wall and decides to humor Dustin’s idea for a second. “Say I was in love with Will. I couldn’t tell him that. We would have to date for a long time to be able to say that word to each other.”

“Mike,” the annoyance makes its way back into Dustin’s voice, “you two have been attached at the hip for most of your entire lives. You aren’t allergic to the L-word. Especially not when that’s what you’re obviously feeling.”

“But it’s, like, weird.” Mike finds himself a little too serious about humoring Dustin, and tries to snap himself out of it.

“It’s ten times less weird than what you’re doing right now,” Mike doesn’t feel inclined to say that Dustin is wrong, “you guys didn’t hook up at a bar. You’ve been best friends for ages, you can tell him you love him.”

A pause. Mike doesn’t say anything.

“And this is Will we’re talking about,” Dustin continues, “I think you’re forgetting who exactly you’ve been kissing. Hell, he didn’t even know what it felt like to be kissed before last week. If you want to be his boyfriend and hold his hand and take him out on dates, then that’s great. But don’t go halfway and do what you’re doing right now, because if the conversation of whether or not this means anything is bound to come up and someone’s going to get hurt when you inevitably deny it.”

Mike still can’t find any words, so Dustin keeps talking.

“If Will’s into you, then he’d prefer you make it known that you’re into him instead of leading him on and dodging the question.”

“Noted.” Mike says brilliantly, because he thinks that he may be experiencing a couple of realizations.

“Listen, Mike,” Dustin’s voice softens, “I think you’re a great guy sometimes, and I’m trying to give you some advice. Whether or not you take it is completely up to you, but if I were you, I’d go over to Will’s house, tell him how I feel, and give him a real kiss.”

“But you’re not me,” Mike tries to use the last strength to deflect that he has in him.

“That’s true, because I’m not hopelessly in love with Will,” Dustin says simply, “you are. And I hope to God you come to terms with that real soon because what you’re doing stopped being cute five years ago.”

That seems to be Dustin’s closing line, but Mike doesn’t even have the time to get in a goodbye before Dustin hangs up the phone, and Mike is left with radio silence and a battlefield of thoughts.

Mike really, really, really wants to believe Dustin is wrong. He desperately wants to tell him that his advice sucks and he has no idea what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t think he can.

He puts the phone back and retrieves his ice cream cone, which he imagines is room temperature so he promptly throws it away.

Perhaps he’s just looking for an excuse to not have to eat that vanilla again.

Mike, maybe quite dramatically, sinks to the kitchen floor. Dustin is right.

Mike has gotten accusations of being in love with Will practically since birth, from everyone. Lucas is the first person Mike remembers saying anything, but then came Nancy and Max and Robin Buckley and even Mike’s own mom, and Mike thought they were all idiots. He can’t be in love with Will.

He shouldn’t be in love with Will.

However, it may be time to face the music, because Dustin is totally right. Mike does want more than just to kiss Will.

As much as he hates admitting it, because the better part of seventeen years has been dedicated to denying it, he wants to be Will’s boyfriend.

He does want to hold hands and link arms and take him out on dates and he does want to tell Will he loves him because he does, and Will is so wonderful and far too good for Mike and he deserves to hear it.

Will deserves to be kissed for real, and it’s kind of unfair that his first four kisses ever were all wasted on Mike’s bullshit cover-up of a spit swear.

Will deserves everything, and Mike loves him, and he has to do something about it.

Now. Why wait? No one in his family will be back in his house for ages, and he doesn’t have anything better to do. He’s already behind on homework, so what’s one more lame worksheet to be behind on?

Yes, now. Mike is going to do something now. He’s going to go outside and he’s going to get on his bike and go all the way to Will’s house as fast as he can and he’ll be out of breath when he gets there and Will will admire how spontaneous and romantic Mike is and then they’ll totally make out, for real this time.

Mike sees his future, and it’s bright.

He grabs his keys and rushes to the front door, the adrenaline beginning to hit him. He can hardly stop himself from jumping up and down in a burst of energy as he turns the key in the lock and swings the door open.

He’s about to sprint out of the door, but very abruptly stops when he almost bumps into Will, who’s standing at his porch and in the middle of applying chapstick.

“Will?”

Mike blinks, but Will doesn’t disappear. He’s still wearing the prettiest yellow sweater and his hair’s still a little messy and he’s frantically shoving the chapstick into his pocket.

“Oh, Mike! Uh, sorry I hadn’t knocked yet, I—”

“Actually, I was just about to leave for your house.”

“Really?” Will’s eyes widen, and Mike thinks that he breaks eye contact with Mike to glance downwards.

“Yeah, I…” Mike points a thumb behind him, unsure what he’s gesturing to. “I wanted to tell you something.”

“Well, I wanted to tell you something as well.” Will clears his throat, fidgeting with his hands.

“Oh, uh, come in.” Mike feels like an idiot as he steps aside and lets Will inside the house, locking the door and turning his attention back to Will.

Mike can hear his heartbeat more than anything else, and he hardly thinks himself prepared to make a love confession at a time like this. He thought that the bike ride to Will’s house would give him time to clear his head, but Will’s here right now and Mike is at a loss for words.

“So, uh, what was it you wanted to tell me?” Mike hopes and prays that Will has something similar to say, because Mike doesn’t really want to have to say it.

“Why don’t you tell me your thing first?” Will offers, his face flushing a decent bit.

“You came all the way here, Will,” Mike makes a counter-offer, “my thing can wait.”

It seems they’re both nervous about something.

“You know what, how about I get you something to eat?” Mike wants to stall.

“Actually, I ate before I got here,” Will doesn’t seem to want that.

“Yeah. Cool. So did— so did I.” Mike says under his breath, looking down at the floor for a second and then bringing his eyes back up to look at Will.

Neither of them say anything for a second. They’re still standing in front of the front door, close to that wall that connects the main hall with the living room. Mike wonders if he’ll be up against the wall this time.

“We could sit down for a bit,” Mike offers, gesturing to the living room door beside them. Attempt two at stalling.

“No, I think I’m fine here for now,” attempt two: shot down.

“Okay, cool, cool, cool,” Mike nods and pretends that the pit in his stomach isn’t as deep as it is, “no doubt.”

“This is stupid, Mike,” Will’s laugh seems fond and annoyed at the same time. “We’re going to have to say something no matter how much you stall. Just get the hard part over with?”

Mike could kiss Will right now and he’d probably get the hint. However, Mike doesn’t want to do that. He wants to do the hard part and tell Will, because Will’s worth that effort. Mike clears his throat. It’s not now or never, but it’s now or have everything be awkward for a while.

“Okay, fine,” Mike takes a breath, “I talked to Dustin today.”

“I also talked to Dustin today,” Will nods his head.

“And I realized I haven’t been fair on you,” Mike’s face slowly heats up, “because I’ve been too scared to face my…” his mouth is unbelievably dry, “feelings.”

“Oh, I see—”

“And I know it’s really weird,” the pace of Mike’s speaking picks up, “because I insisted that it was normal, but I was lying and Dustin made the idea up completely as a joke and I used it as an excuse and— I think now that if I can kiss you, I can do all the other stuff. The other, uh, boyfriend stuff.”

“Mike,” Will seems like he was going to say something else, but he leaves it there, tilting his head a little and wearing a light smile.

Mike feels his brain switching off at the sound of his name in Will’s voice. As he’s made clear before, he loves the way Will says his name, though it’s completely ordinary in a way Mike can’t explain.

Will doesn’t say anything more, so Mike has to keep going.

“And I want to do all that other stuff,” Mike assures him, “it’s not just that I can, you know, but I would be incredibly lucky to date you and everything.” Mike observes as Will’s smile widens. “And I only kissed you because I found a way that I didn’t need a reason to do that, but I do have one.”

There’s a silence between them as Will’s grin widens further, and Will bites his lip.

“So, what did you want to tell me?” Mike asks, because he doesn’t think he can speak about this anymore without combusting into flames.

“Right, that,” Will nods, still trying not to smile. “I think you pretty much said everything, actually. About— all that stuff. Very poetic.”

Mike thinks that Will’s nervous rambling is starting to become more adjacent to Mike’s.

“Thank you,” Mike feels himself smiling, “but are you sure you have nothing to tell me?”

“I don’t know, I had a couple lines planned out.” Will shrugs his shoulders and runs a hand through his hair. “I think I’ve forgotten them now. I just wanted to tell you that I think I wanna kiss you as more than a… spit swear.” Will pauses, averting his gaze. “A spit swap spit swear.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Mike feels kind of stupid, “I could have just said that. Thank god you’re smart, Will, I didn’t need to ramble so much—”

“Mike,” Will cuts him off, “yours was perfect. If anything, I feel like I haven’t said enough.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Mike tilts his head as well, and Will takes a step forward.

And another. Their faces are about two inches apart and Mike isn’t quite against the wall yet. He thinks he’s forgetting how to breathe.

Will has a beautiful face. When it’s all close-up like this, Mike can’t help but try and trace his eyes around every detail, and he finds them pulled down to Will’s mouth. He doesn’t bother trying to look away.

“I love you,” is what Mike decides to say, his voice breathy and lost, but taking the last bit of Dustin’s advice. He isn’t sure how stupid or not that was to say, and Will’s eyes widen.

“Wow, already?” Will’s surprise quickly melts into something smug. “We haven’t had our first real kiss yet, Mike.”

“Shut up,” Mike zones back in a little, grinning. “I didn’t really mean to say it, but I don’t think I’m above saying it. I want you to hear it.”

“Well,” Will’s smile softens, “I love you too, Mike.”

“Thanks.”

Will laughs. They’re still just standing incredibly close, neither of them doing anything. Mike counts two seconds of silence. He brushes Will’s hair out of his eyes.

“So, can I?” Will asks after a second, his voice still somewhat hesitant.

“Can you what?” Mike asks, before realizing he’s stupid after Will gives him a look that implies Mike knows exactly what Will’s talking about. “Oh— right, yeah, oh my god, of course. You know what, I say kiss away.” Mike clears his throat, because he’s an idiot. “Sorry, just— yes. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“Great,” Will nods, looking a little awkward as his hands move to Mike’s head, not so much cupping his face, rather up in his hair. Mike is a fan.

Mike scrambles to put his hands somewhere, grabbing the fabric of Will’s sweater and pulling him in like that.

Will’s eyes drift shut as he moves in, initiating the fifth kiss overall, but the first one to mean something.

Saying sparks fly might be an understatement. The electricity runs throughout Mike’s body as he grips the fabric tighter.

Will steps forward, causing Mike to stumble back until he’s pushed up against the wall connecting the hall and the living room. Mike presses in. He likes this new experience of being the one on the wall.

It feels different when it’s real. The vanilla tastes even sweeter. Mike’s organs still feel on fire, but in a way that’s different. Whether it feels more intense or less intense, Mike doesn’t know.

Mike opens his mouth a little bit. Will doesn’t miss a beat as he slips his tongue through, and Mike doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the feeling. This time, it’s new, because all Mike can think about is the fact that Will actually wants to do this for legitimate reasons, and not just for a swear.

Kissing Will is great, but it’s even better when they both know it’s for real.

Will’s hands struggle to find a comfortable place to sit in Mike’s hair, constantly moving around, and Mike knows in the back of his mind that his hair might never be neat again, but he couldn’t care less. He doesn’t have a reason to care when Will’s twirling Mike’s hair around his fingers like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Will tugs on a few strands of Mike’s hair, and Mike reacts with a small and out-of-breath gasp. It turns out that Mike likes that. Will does it again. Mike leans in again, pressing further this time.

He wonders if all of this will affect his ability to think. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever form a coherent thought after this, because he feels every thought in his head dissolving, one by one.

It’s a wonder that Will can even wear a sweater in this weather, let alone in the heat between them right now. Mike fears that if he tightens his grip any more, he’ll rip it. He moves his hands down to Will's waist, because anything with the waist is automatically hot.

Will runs his fingers through Mike’s hair, letting out a small hum and touching Mike’s tongue with his. Mike might fold in half if he can’t hold Will’s waist tight enough or lean back on the wall hard enough.

This time, counting seconds isn’t even a concept to Mike anymore. He simply doesn’t care. When Will pulls away, Mike doesn’t concern himself with how long the kiss lasted.

He concerns himself with getting his breath back, because he thinks that his whole body forgot where the gas exchange is.

“Thank you,” though Mike doesn’t think it’s a conventional thing to say after kissing someone, his brain isn’t working and his voice is full of air and he does want to thank Will.

“You’re welcome,” Will laughs, “and thank you.”

“Has anyone ever told you how good of a kisser you are?” Mike doesn’t think before he speaks again.

“Yes, Mike,” Will’s smile is sweeter than ever, “you.”

Will gives Mike a quick kiss on the cheek and lets his hands drop from Mike’s hair, and Mike lets go of Will’s waist.

“So, can you still get me something to eat?” Will takes a step back and changes the topic. “I lied when I told you I had something before I got here.”

“There’s nothing in my fridge,” Mike admits with a shrug, “I was trying to stall.”

“Right,” Will sounds amused.

“I could take you out,” Mike offers, and Will’s smile gets brighter. “Our first date.”

“I’d like that,” Will nods, biting his lip again.

“Good,” Mike holds his arm out and Will knows to link it with his own, and Mike couldn’t be happier as he unlocks the door and steps out of the house.

He knows now that maybe kissing is a romantic act.

“I actually really liked that place,” Will adjusts his grip on Mike’s hand, “Dustin has great recommendations.”

“Yeah, Dustin’s surprisingly wise,” Mike agrees, picking up his walking pace when Will’s house is in sight. “I still haven’t thanked him for giving me that advice the other day.”

“You haven’t?” Will looks sort of surprised at the information. “If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be dating. You owe that man your life.”

“The spit swap spit swear was the greatest invention of all time,” Mike agrees, “I’ll get round to it. I have math with him tomorrow.”

The two reach the front door of Will’s house. This is the end of their official third date, something which makes Mike giddy to think about.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Mike,” Will lets go of Mike’s hand and digs around his pocket for a house key, “I had a great time today.”

“I’m glad,” Mike feels the sudden urge to start skipping around like a little girl. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” and then he decides to do something that he thinks is funny, “I promise.”

“You cannot promise me that, Mike!” Will’s contagious laugh shines through his words, and he looks somewhat fond of Mike’s antics.

“But you have to kiss me,” Mike puts his hands out in front of his head, “I’m telling you, it’s legit.”

“Why am I dating you?” Will attempts to hold back his smile.

“Because you think I’m really cool and you love me,” Mike tries to give an answer to Will’s seemingly rhetorical question, and Will stops suppressing his grin.

“Okay, fair,” Will decides, “I guess I’ll entertain your promise.”

Will presses a quick kiss to Mike’s lips before retrieving his house keys from his pockets.

“Thank you, Will,” Mike draws out the vowels in his phrase and plasters on his cheesiest smile, and Will does an amused exhale out of his nose. “Good night.”

“Good night, Mike.” Will unlocks the door and steps inside, and Mike briefly hears Joyce call a greeting to Mike from inside the house before the door closes.

He stands at the door for a moment, taking a second to feel his face go hot and let out an inhumanely girlish giggle.

Mike is an insanely lucky person.