Chapter Text
Mike saw Will.
Holy shit.
It wasn’t even dramatic at first—no slow-motion, no cinematic glow, none of that stuff Mike’s brain usually mocked out of existence.
Just… Will.
Standing there like he’d always been there. Like California hadn’t stretched time weird and wrong. Like Mike hadn’t spent months trying to convince himself that distance would soften things instead of sharpening them into something unbearable.
And suddenly it’s like Mike forgets how to be a person.
Because Will looks older. Not in a shocking way—just enough that it makes Mike’s chest tighten with something he can’t name without immediately wanting to shove it back down. His hair’s longer. His shoulders sit differently. Like he’s learned how to take up space without apologizing for it.
And Mike’s first thought is completely unholy.
Which is deeply unfair, because he did not ask his brain to do that.
Will notices him.
Of course he does.
Their eyes meet, and Mike swears something in him short-circuits so hard it should be audible.
“Mike,” Will says.
Just his name. Simple. Normal.
It hits like a bruise anyway.
Mike tries to answer. He really does. But whatever response was supposed to come out gets stuck somewhere between his throat and his brain, tangled up in panic and something far more complicated he is absolutely refusing to unpack right now.
“Hey,” Mike manages.
Brilliant. Stellar. Pulitzer-worthy.
Behind Will, someone calls his name—El, probably, or someone else moving through the house like life is still happening normally. It should pull Mike back into place. It should remind him why he’s here.
It doesn’t.
Because Will is still looking at him like he knows Mike didn’t just say “hey” like a normal person.
Like he heard everything Mike didn’t say.
And Mike suddenly can’t tell if the distance between them got smaller or if he just finally stopped pretending it wasn’t there in the first place.