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Mike Wheeler was clumsy. Or that was what he called himself anyway — Nancy insisted it was impulsivity and attention seeking, but her opinion mattered little to Mike. Biking to and from school, roughhousing, running around because of tag or some other game they came up with in the afternoon, could cause all kinds of accidents.
And it was fine, Mike could deal with holding back tears as his hands stung from a scrape or from hitting his forehead on a glass door. It was fine — until Mike found out a special way to get rid of the pain.
You see, Will was kind, soft spoken, and the type to be empathetic toward things most people wouldn't deem worthy of empathy — like refusing to kill spiders that were in the bathroom or befriending freaks when everyone turned their back on them. It was just part of him, and Mike doubted there would ever be a day he didn't see that side of Will. Truthfully, Mike loved it all — hardly anybody who knew Will had much of a complaint — and especially when he had Will's undivided attention, whether that be hanging out just the two of them or catching glimpses of such whenever Mike was DM.
One day, while they biked home, Will had been laughing with Dustin about one of their classmates asking a stupid question, and watching Mr. Clarke go through several stages of grief within the span of a second. Dustin called it record timing and Lucas agreed with a bright laugh, and in hindsight, nothing was wrong; they were joking around and just… being friends, but God Mike wanted Will to look at him.
So what did he do? Mike had the brilliant idea of trying to do a wheelie on his bicycle.
"Hey, look!" Mike yelled out as he balanced on one wheel for a few seconds.
"You're doing it!" Lucas yelled out with a laugh.
"Woah," Will said.
But of course nothing good lasted forever, and Mike lost balance. The back wheel rolled to the front and Mike had no time to try and stop the fall from looking embarrassingly predictable, falling on his left side, effectively landing on his arm and hitting the side of his head on the sidewalk.
"Dude, are you good?" Dustin asked between giggles, stopping his bike before he got too far.
Mike couldn't see Lucas, but he was sure he'd be laughing too. Mike just wanted the floor to swallow him whole already, especially with a throbbing headache and an arm that ached so much that Mike was considering it might be broken.
"Mike, you okay?"
An angel was there to bring him to heaven, thank God.
"Mike?" The soft voice again. It was Will, so… essentially the same thing. "Let me help you up."
He took Will's offering hands, and once on he was back on his feet, the headache got worse, like Mike's brain was being thrown around his skull.
"I'm fine, just-" No, tears, no, no, no. "Just a…" he sniffled, shit, "headache now and my arm hurts, I'll be fine."
Will looked at him sympathetically, still holding Mike's forearm. The good one.
"I'll walk with him, you guys go," Will informed. No questions asked. "You should probably not get back on your bike now."
"You sure?" Lucas asked. "It's getting late."
Will just waved his hand dismissively. "I can just call my mom from Mike's to tell her where I am," Will picked up Mike's bike, bringing the pedal down. "I'll just see you guys tomorrow at school."
"Fine by me, see ya!" Dustin waved as he biked away.
Lucas stayed for a moment before shaking his head and biking away. "See ya."
Once far away enough, Mike's brain could function a little better, so they both started walking side by side with their bicycles in hand. Will looked completely comfortable with the silence, but Mike was not. What if Will thought he was lame now??
"You didn't have to do that, you know," Mike's voice came out a little shaky. "I could've gotten home fine."
Will looked at him, confused. "You always take care of me. I wanna take care of you, it's no biggie."
Mike felt a familiar warmth cover him, like a soft blanket, easing his pain just a little.
"Wait, I have an idea," Will eased his pedal down, so Mike did the same. Will walked over towards Mike and asked, "What part of your head is hurting?"
"Uh, like," Mike pointed to the left side of his head. "Here."
And without warning, Will went on his tippy toes and kissed the same spot he pointed to. Will kissed him. Oh my God.
Any pain and any discomfort instantly became secondary because-
"You-" Mike placed a hand on his head like that would hold the kiss in place. Or something. "You kissed me."
Will shrugged, a red tint spreading across his cheeks, "My mom does that to me whenever I hurt myself. And I'm a cleric, right? Maybe that gives me some extra healing powers."
Mike was speechless, but forced his brain to work enough to smile back at Will. "Yeah, you definitely do, but my hand also hurts, do you think…?"
He offered his hand this time, tentatively but bravely, hoping Will wouldn't be uncomfortable with the proposition. Instead, Will shifted forward and lightly kissed Mike's knuckles; it could barely be called a kiss, but it still made Mike burn at his impulsive decision and Will's receptiveness to doing what he wanted.
Maybe Nancy was right. He was impulsive and an attention seeker, but one detail she missed was that he sought for Will's attention, not the general public.
From then on, Mike's first instinct after getting hurt — paper cuts, a hit on the head, scrapes, and so on — was to run after Will for his rescue, calling out:
"Cleric! Cleric! I need your healing powers again."
Will also usually had these colorful band-aids inside his bag, so if Mike was bleeding and it was small enough for one, Mike earned a band-aid and a kiss like a reward. Will smiled bashfully every time.
"You need to be careful with how you open your books," Will told him once while placing a yellow band-aid on Mike's finger.
They were having lunch outside, and Lucas suddenly spoke:
"Hey, Will?"
"Yeah?"
"Are the cleric powers only for the paladin?"
Mike's head snapped towards him with a frown.
"I… guess not," Will reached into his bag, then offered a green band-aid. "I can give you a band-aid, if you need it."
"Only a band-aid, huh…" Lucas smirked.
Before Mike could refute or tell him off for putting Will on the spot, Dustin was already on a ramble about homework he completely forgot to do. It wasn't strange or unusual that Mike wanted to ask Will specifically for help, right? It was just… more convenient since Will always had band-aids in hand and it was literally his D&D class! So nothing weird.
However, it wasn't long until Mike came to face the reality that not every wound could be healed by a band-aid.
Lucas was recovering from a cold, so he wasn't at school, and Dustin had gone straight to the cafeteria while Mike went to look for Will in his art class. Will loved art, so he usually stayed for longer than necessary — his teacher never minded his company — and Mike would come pick him up to eat. This time, however, Will wasn't there.
"Oh he left, Mike," Mrs. Lopez lamented, "Some kids were being… mean to him, and I tried to make him stay to talk, but he refused to and ran out. I don't know where he is now, maybe the cafeteria?"
Mike knew he wouldn't be in the cafeteria, but he nodded anyway and thanked her for telling him. There were two places in mind that could potentially be a hiding spot for Will whenever he wanted to be alone: the boys' bathroom or the back of the school. As soon as he entered the boys' bathroom, Mike noticed there was way too many people for Will's taste, so he quickly turned his heel and practically ran to the back of the school.
"Stop running, Mike!" He heard Mr. Clarke yell out.
"Sorry!" Mike yelled back and he was out.
Mike walked around for a little while, only hearing the cluster of students laughing far away and feet stomping in the hallways. It felt so distant, but that was exactly why Mike was certain he'd be here somewhere. Soon enough Mike heard sniffles. Will was sitting on the concrete floor against the school's brick wall, knees to his chest and head down; Mike's heart broke instantly and balled his fists because how dare they make Will feel like this?
"Hey, Will," Mike said softly, but Will's head shot up like a scared animal, "I've been looking for you, what's going on?"
Will wiped his eyes dry, but they were still red as he stared down, "People were making fun of me in art class," Mike sat down next to him, imitating the same position, "calling me a fairy for liking a subject for girls, and it just- it was humiliating. It is my favorite subject, but somehow that's just another weird part of me."
Will started to cry again and Mike wrapped his arm around his shoulders, "Hey hey, there's nothing weird about you liking art! I love all of your drawings, and I bet you're better than all of the girls."
He finally looked at Mike, "You really think so?"
"Yeah, I really do," Mike said softly, "Someday you will be selling art for like thousands of dollars and I'm gonna say, 'That's my best friend!! I got work from him for free, you suckers!'"
Will chuckled, drying his eyes again. They were still a little red, but Will was already a lot better than when Mike first arrived; shoulders no longer tensed, making eye contact, smiling — which honestly made Mike feel super proud of himself for making Will happy so quickly.
Then he had an idea. Will always kissed his cuts better, but there was no cut to kiss, the harm wasn't exactly physical. So Mike resolved to a gentle press against Will's cheek.
Will's eyes went owl-like wide, his mouth slightly agape and Mike's ears began to burn.
"I just, um, I remembered you kissing my scrapes and whatnot better, so I figured… maybe that would make you feel better?"
He was still silent, unmoving.
"I'm sorry!" Mike pulled his arm back. "I should've asked first, I-"
But Mike was interrupted by Will's gentle press to his cheek and all thoughts instantly halted.
"Mike, it's okay," he smiled shyly, and a red tint spread across Will's cheeks, "I feel better. Thank you."
"Oh," was all he could manage for several seconds, "Then, do you… want to leave for the cafeteria? We still have time."
Will thought about it, "Not today. I have a sandwich in my bag anyway, I want to… stay here until the bell rings. You don't have to stay, if you don't want to."
Mike then realized his hand had been on his cheek since the kiss, so he dropped the hand to his knees, "No, no, I'll stay. I'm not that hungry."
That was a lie, he was in fact very hungry, but Mike didn't want to leave Will behind.
"Hmm," Will narrowed his eyes.
Will reached inside his bag for a few seconds before bringing out the sandwich he mentioned, then halved it the best he could before offering it to Mike.
"It's ham and cheese."
Mike smiled. "Thank you."
Will laid his head on Mike's shoulder with a smile and Mike rested his head atop Will's, eating in silence. There was no doubt in his mind that his life would improve as soon as middle school was over — as long as Will was still his best friend, there was nothing they couldn't face.
There was nothing Mike wanted to face without Will by his side.
Was that a thing? Could best friends live together or was it a thing only married people could do? They could get married, if that was what it took. Mike was more than happy to be his… husband. Mike's insides felt extra fuzzy at the thought, and he suddenly really wanted to hold Will's hand, but maybe that was too much for right now. Being close was enough anyway.