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It's Pride in New York City.
Mike doesn't really know what that means. He knows what Pride is of course, but he doesn’t understand the nuances of it.
He knows Will's excited about it. More excited than he has been in a long time about pretty much anything.
When they both got accepted into NYU and decided to share an apartment to avoid the crusty freshman-filled dorms, Mike thought that everything would stay pretty much the same.
Mike and Will. Will and Mike. Together. In a new city.
He hadn't factored in that while he might be quite happy with things staying the same, Will wanted things to change.
He wanted to try new things, have new experiences, make new friends.
Will had come home one day with a pierced ear out of nowhere. He'd been on numerous dates, though he hadn't told Mike much about them. They didn’t seem to be serious anyways. He’d joined the Gay and Lesbian Alliance club at school and went to rallies. He got a job apprenticing for a bigger-name artist. He had a group of queer friends, some of whom Mike hadn’t even met.
He was thriving, and Mike loved to see it.
Mike, on the other hand, seemed to have stalled somehow.
New York was just as open to him as it was to Will. To meet people, to try new things, to date, but for some reason he hadn't. He kept clinging to the familiar, trying to hang on to movie marathons that still included Star Wars and D&D games with their old characters. Remaining still while Will leapt ahead.
In a nutshell, he was not coping with change as well as Will had.
Will wasn't a different person or anything. He was just himself, but more. More comfortable, more confident, more free.
And Mike found himself shrinking into the sidelines of Will's life.
He stopped pressing for movie nights or D&D. He stopped pushing for them to meet up for study hall, or order pizza together. He let himself fade into the background of Will's vibrant new life.
And it was okay.
He understood that Will needed this, that Will deserved this.
He deserved a life free of monsters and madness. Of pain and loss.
He deserved unlimited joy.
And if that didn't include Mike, so be it. He could step aside if it meant that Will, his best friend, the best person he knew, finally got to lead a beautiful, happy life.
“So, what do you think? Do I look okay?” Will says, snapping Mike out of his reverie.
Mike looks up from the couch, taking in Will’s outfit. He looks good, put together in the way he always did now. A little something extra giving him a pep in his step, a proud set of his shoulders that says I’m not afraid of who I am anymore.
“You always look good, Will. What are you even worried about?” he replies, “you've been on, what? Six dates this month? The guys are lining up. I'm sure it’ll be no different today.”
He means it, but Mike can’t help but feel a little pang of jealousy at how much attention Will is getting, even though the thought of dating is like a foreign taste on his tongue. He just can't really picture himself with anyone.
He hasn’t even kissed anyone since…
Will checks his reflection in the mirror again, giving his longer hair a little scrunch and tousle, vibrating with adrenaline. The new haircut suits him.
Mike stalls, even though he doesn’t know why.
“You've got your wallet?”
“Yep.”
“Your keys?”
“Yes, Mike.”
“Right, who are you going with again?”
“Dalcio and Nicky.”
Mike’s eyes go distant, like he’s trying to remember who they are.
“My friends I told you about? The couple,” Will adds.
“Oh. They're together? Sorry, for some reason I thought those were two of your dates.”
Will’s eyes snap to Mike in surprise.
“You’re keeping track of my dates, Mike?”
“No! I mean, maybe. Just… for safety, right?”
Will smiles warmly, like Mike’s done something adorable.
“You have so many new people in your life, Will. It’s kinda hard to keep track.”
Will gives him a long look, like he hears the part that Mike didn’t say: you have so many new people in your life, Will. I don't know where I fit anymore.
And Will takes a turn surprising him.
“Did you want to come along, Mike?”
Mike sputters a response.
“What? I mean... I.. But it's your thing. I mean, that's- I don't mean that I'm- I'm an ally. Of course I'm an ally, but…are you sure you would want me there? Wouldn’t your friends think I'm weird or something? Since I’m not…”
“Mike, you're my best friend. You always will be,” Will says, “of course I want you there. If you want to come? Plus, you'll see a whole different side of New York. I promise!”
And suddenly Mike is nervous, but excited. He can't explain why, but he wants this.
He wants to see this side of Will's life. Be a part of it. Step off the bench, even if just for one day.
“Okay. Yeah. I mean, if I'm not cramping your style, or your friends.. I'd- that would be awesome, Will. I want to support you.” He grins, a bit stupidly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He stands up, awkwardly.
“But you can't wear that,” Will says immediately.
Mike looks down at his Star Wars shirt and jeans, both littered with holes, like some tiny animal had gotten their teeth into them, gnawing away happily.
“What's wrong with this?”
“Mike.”
“Okay, okay, fine. Dress me? I... submit to your gay expertise.”
Will grins.
They manage to find something basic but suitable from the depths of Mike’s suburban dad-themed closet and make their way to the train.
Mike’s heart is beating fast in his chest and he keeps sneaking glances at Will as they make their way downtown, unconsciously looking for clues that Will is secretly wishing he’d never invited Mike, that he was intruding on something that didn’t or shouldn’t include him.
They emerge from the subway onto the crowded street, the scent of asphalt and cigarette smoke assaulting their senses, along with a roar of traffic, when Will is suddenly enveloped in a crushing hug.
“Willlll, darling!”
Will steps out of the embrace and willingly receives two kisses, one on each cheek from the guy in question, Nicky.
He’s dressed in a fishnet shirt, if you can call it a shirt. It barely reaches the bottom of his ribcage, leaving a tanned expanse of chiselled abs between its hem and the waistband of his cut-off jean shorts. He’s wearing a varied collection of jewellery and a massive pair of sunglasses that he whips off his face to take in the sight of Will.
The other man, Dalcio, is dressed much less flamboyantly. Just a button-up shirt in a soft pattern, with most of the buttons undone, the hint of a fine gold chain visible against his smooth chest, paired with a loose pair of pants that look easy and comfortable.
Will hugs Dalcio warmly, then steps back to reveal Mike, standing awkwardly behind him like a pale shadow.
“You remember my friend Mike? From back home? He's gonna join us,” Will says, pressing an elbow to touch Mike’s, “as an ally today.”
“As an ally? Mike, how progressive of you!” Nicky exclaims loudly.
Mike’s cheeks go hot and he’s suddenly regretting everything, thinking they’re making fun of him, until Nicky gets serious instead, his voice sobering.
"Oh, honey. You're a good friend,” Nicky says warmly, then smirks, “you're a terrible dresser, but you're a good friend.”
“Nicky!” Will exclaims.
“Whaaaattt? This outfit is a travesty darling, I‘m sorry. Will should never have let you out like this.”
Mike is dressed in all-black.
A black pair of converse, tight black jeans and a plain black t-shirt that rides up a little on his waist. He wasn’t sure about it until Will had said the flashes of skin would be perfect for today. He tried to convince Mike to cut it off a bit more, making it into a full-blown crop top, but Mike had resisted, blushing at the thought of showing that much skin.
He didn’t think his outfit was that bad until now. Boring, maybe, but not bad.
“It’s the best we could come up with on short notice, ok?” Will protests on his behalf, “Mike didn’t have a lot of options.”
“Then you should have given him something of yours to wear, hon!”
Dalcio catches Mike’s eye and waggles his eyebrows, gently encouraging Mike to take it all with a grain of salt, and Mike relaxes a fraction.
Nicky looks Mike up and down, appraising him, as Mike swallows thickly under the scrutiny.
“At least it's… cohesive,” Nicky finally relents. “Wait, I have an idea!”
Nicky reaches up and removes one of three chokers from around his neck, handing it to Will.
“Here, put this on him?” he says, then starts unscrewing the post of a small dangly earring on his left ear.
Will looks at Mike to confirm he’s okay with this and Mike nods.
Will reaches up and clasps the choker around his neck. Up close like this, they lock eyes and Mike swallows against the fabric, dropping his gaze. Nicky interrupts, waving Will aside as he steps forward with the earring now dangling in his hand.
“It's a screw post - doesn't require a piercing,” he says, reaching for Mike’s ear as he flinches a little, “baby, you gotta trust me, okay? You're gonna look so much better with this. Your long neck? This and the choker are gonna set it off beautifully.”
He clips the earring to Mike's ear, and he feels the pinch of the post tightening on the back of his earlobe.
Nicky steps back to appraise his work, both he and Dalcio giving it a nod of approval before looking to Will.
“What do you think?”
Mike’s eyes flick to Will.
Will's lips are parted in a little ‘o’ of surprise. His hazel eyes are darting from the earring to the choker and back to Mike's face in a little loop. Like he's taking it all in.
Will swallows, then smiles.
“You nailed it. He looks really good,” he says to Nicky, then to Mike, “you look great, Mike. You should seriously think about getting your ear pierced for real.”
Mike beams, settling into the feeling of the choker. It's unexpected, but feels kind of nice around his neck. The earring is pinching a little, he’s not used to it, but seeing Will’s face light up is enough. He’s committed.
They carouse through town, following Nicky’s aura into various bars where they cross paths with other friends of his, some of whom Will already knows, alternately grabbing drinks and water, getting more buzzed with every stop as they slowly inch across the city.
They’re seated at a small table in a little dive of a queer bar, bright posters of drag queens and kings lining the walls, the light low and intimate, even in the middle of the afternoon.
Will excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and Mike, still getting his bearings and trying to be polite, asks Nicky and Dalcio how they met. Nicky, even more talkative a few drinks in, answers for both of them.
“Oh, this one. All he had to do was show me that perfect little asshole of his, and I fell in love.”
Dalcio shakes his head, groaning, “Babe, you have to stop telling people that.”
Mike’s gone beet red.
He's never thought too hard about the particulars of gay sex, though he's obviously aware of the basics. He’d read a little, just in case Will ever wanted to talk about it one day. He wanted to be a good friend, even though the descriptions and diagrams made his ears burn.
But Will had never brought anyone home.
To Mike's knowledge, Will had never gone home with anyone either, not in all the time they’d lived in New York. He wasn't really sure why.
Feeling bold from the liquor and the shameless turn of the conversation, Mike ventures a question he’s long been curious about, but unsure how to ask Will directly.
“Can I ask you guys something?”
“Anything, sweet pea,” Nicky croons, sipping his cocktail.
Mike tries to ignore the little thrill that runs through his body at being called sweet pea.
By a guy.
He looks over his shoulder to make sure Will isn't returning from the bathroom yet.
“Uh, Will's been on a lot of dates, but it doesn't seem like... anything's gotten very serious. Do you... do you know why? Is he doing okay? Do- do people like him? Does he.. like them?”
"Oh, sweetie. You really care about him, huh?” Nicky soothes.
“Of course. We've been best friends since we were five. Will is… everything to me, and I want him to be happy. Really happy,” Mike says, finding his stride with it. “We- we went through a lot when we were kids, and I worry about him sometimes. Whether it might make it hard for him to trust people, new people. Especially with you know…uh…”
He waves his hand.
Nicky waves his hand in a similar motion, “by that, do you mean sex?”
Mike blushes.
"I- just physical stuff, I guess? Intimacy.”
Nicky looks at Dalcio and his eyes soften a little, like they know something but are trying to figure out how to skirt around it and say something else.
Dalcio clears his throat.
“You're his best friend. I think maybe you should talk to him about it,” he says gently, “tell him these things, that you want him to be happy.”
“I've tried,” Mike says, frustrated, “I just don't… I don't want to get in the way.”
“How would you get in the way?” Dalcio asks, eyebrows pinching.
“I… promise that you won't tell him I told you this?” Mike asks.
“Cross my heart, honey,” Nicky says.
“Back home. When Will first came out. To us, to.. his friends and family. He told us he had a crush,” Mike says, realizing mid-sentence this is the first time he’s told anyone his suspicions. He’s not sure why he trusts these people, people he barely knows, but for some reason he instinctively knows they’re the right people to tell.
“I sometimes think that… maybe it was on me? And I let him down somehow for not realizing it.” He pauses. “Anyway, that was a long time ago, and he said he was over that person, but sometimes he looks so sad for no reason. And I wonder if he's still hung up on them.”
“Or maybe me,” he adds.
He looks down at the table, picking at a sticker.
“I hope it's not me,” Mike finishes quietly.
“Why not?” Nicky exclaims. “What do you mean? Why wouldn't you want it to be you?”
Mike sputters in surprise as Nicky barrels on.
“This is Will we're talking about. There is no greater compliment than having that boy pine for you.
“Babe..” Dalcio interjects, but Nicky pushes forward.
“When I first met Will I had a bit of a crush on him myself,” he says, then turns to Dalcio, giving him a peck on the cheek, “this is before I met you, baby.”
Dalcio smiles, reassuring, running a hand lazily along Nicky’s arm as he continues.
Mike watches the hand slide easily, wondering what it must be like for them to feel so safe to do this in public, the freedom that it must give them to be able to love each other openly.
He wants that for Will.
“Being in that boy's orbit, but not being the centre of his gaze was like torture for my little obsessed heart. You'd be lucky to be the object of his affections,” Nicky finishes, slamming his glass on the table for emphasis.
“But not if I'm holding him back from finding someone else,” Mike protests quietly.
Nicky reaches out and runs a finger under the earring in Mike’s ear, letting it dangle along Mike's neck, tickling.
“Be honest Mike, have you ever really thought about it?” he says, eyes boring into Mike’s soul.
And he feels transparent, see through, like they can see the lie.
Because he has thought about it. More than once.
His eyes, so often drawn to the mole above Will's top lip, against his will.
Their shared unspoken language of looks and elbow bumps.
The way Will understands him like no one else does.
The most important person in his life. The best thing he’s ever done.
And maybe, his biggest regret too.
But change is scary.
Nicky seems poised on the brink of calling him out. And then Dalcio touches his arm again and he pulls back, eyes sliding past Mike to look behind him.
“Never mind, sweet pea, its ok if-” he says, retreating from it, “it's enough that you're here. Supporting him. Out in the open. I know he appreciates it.”
“What’s this? Who appreciates what?” Will says as he rejoins them at the table.
“Oh, we were just telling Mikey here what a good friend he is for tagging along today. Being an ally.”
Will looks at Mike, and there’s something warm there, a soft appreciation for Mike’s presence. Mike is glad he came along, just to see that look in Will’s eyes. He missed being part of Will's life like this.
A tray is suddenly slammed on their table by a fierce diva, a drag queen named Miss Candee Pops. The vibe of her out fit is Strawberry Shortcake on acid, all bright shades of pink and red, with accents of real candy glued on every available surface.
“My dears, my queers, my bunnies! A shot for you on this fine day? On the hooo-uuuse,” she sing-songs.
Nicky, Dalcio and Will jump eagerly at the offer, grabbing at the shot glasses. Mike hesitates until Will grabs a second one, shoving it into Mike’s hand encouragingly. They all clink their glasses, Miss Candee joining them for a round, and throw them back.
The sticky sweet taste is an assault on Mike’s tongue and he winces at the strong flavour.
Will slams his glass down, face lit up with laughter, grinning in that devastating way of his and Miss Candee slides another shot toward him, and only him, with a sly smile.
“Shhh, I’m only supposed to give you one, but you’re too cute!” she flirts.
Will accepts the shot gracefully, bowing his head, “milady.”
“Oh, you’re a gentleman, I like you,” she says, offering him her hand which he accepts, bending low to kiss the knuckles gently, the shot still poised in his other hand.
Miss Candee pulls her hand back and fans herself dramatically.
“Bunny. Baby. You’re gonna be the death of me,” she says, caressing his cheek softly.
“And with that, I must away!” she cries with a flourish of sequins and spins with her tray to assault another table with her charm.
Mike’s been watching all of this in awe. He feels like he’s seeing a side of Will he’s never seen before. A charming, flirtatious Will that doesn’t hesitate. Its strangely intoxicating how Miss Candee simply melted under Will’s attentions.
Mike feels giddy just watching from the sidelines.
They leave the packed bar and continue across the city.
When they stop at a bodega for some much-needed water and a BEC (bacon egg and cheese) to keep their energy up, Mike finds himself alone with Will again.
They’re sitting on the curb, barely an inch between them, digging into their sandwiches and Will nudges Mike with his elbow.
“So, what do you think so far?”
“Great! It’s been… great!” he says, a little too fast.
“Just great? No other adjectives?” Will smirks, “You know, its ok if its… kind of overwhelming. It was a lot for me too, at first.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Will admits. “I mean, Hawkins wasn’t like this, y’now? Other than Robin I was alone. And we were both hiding our real selves for most of it.”
“You weren’t alone Will, you had us. You had me. I really hope you know that.”
Mike presses his knee into Will’s and keeps it there, earning a small smile from Will.
“I do. I know. I guess… it’s just not the same. Being open like this. Seeing people like me everywhere. Especially today.”
He looks fondly at Dalcio who is chatting animatedly with another friend they’d crossed paths with. Nicky flounces out of the bodega and over to Dalcio, slipping his arm around him comfortably as Dalcio turns, automatically pressing a kiss to Nicky’s cheek.
Will looks happy as he watches them, and a little sad at the same time.
Mike clears his throat. Ventures an opinion.
“That’s… that’s what Pride is, isn’t it Will? What it means?” Mike stumbles, “I- think maybe I’m starting to get it.”
Will looks at him again, eyes searching.
“I really want that for you Will. I want you to be happy.”
“I want you to be happy too Mike,” Will says. “Sometimes I think… are you? Happy, I mean?”
Mike looks at his feet, away from Will’s scrutiny.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I feel like I’m not cut out for New York. Not like you.”
“Mike.”
“I think… maybe change is just harder for me. I don’t know why. It’s kind of... scary I guess?”
Will presses his thigh into Mike’s to draw his attention. Mike looks up.
“Hey, I get that. But change doesn’t have to be scary,” he reassures, “sometimes change is just letting go, rather than trying to control everything.”
They share a look. One of those unspoken ones that carries so much weight. Mike always feels so seen when Will looks at him like that.
“You’re not on a deadline to figure everything out Mike,” Will offers, “you know that right?”
“I guess.”
“Look, you know how long it took me to figure out why I felt so out of place, why I didn’t fit.”
Will smiles and it reaches his eyes, soft and heartfelt.
“But when I did? When I finally told all of you? When I came out? This huge weight lifted off my shoulders.”
Will is beaming and Mike feels so... proud of him.
“I want that for you Mike, that same feeling of just... being ok with yourself. You’re creative. You're smart. You’re funny. You’re a great person. People would be lucky to be your friend. I know I am. You just have to trust that Mike, that you have something amazing to offer people, just as you are.”
Mike feels something warm bloom in his chest as he listens.
“You don’t have to change yourself. Just be you and let the world change to meet you. Embrace you.”
Mike drops his gaze again, blinking back the tears forming in his eyes. He takes a deep breath, tries to rally around Will’s advice.
“Thanks, Will. Or should I say Will the Wise? You’re full of wisdom today,” he says with a grin.
Will rolls his eyes but the smile stays.
“I just need to keep Mike the Brave focused, you know how easily he gets distracted by side quests.”
They share a smile that reaches all the way back to their five-year-old selves.
Mike can’t look away, drawn into the warmth of Will’s eyes, familiar and reassuring and real.
“Will-“
“Okay bitches! Are we ready to mosy? Adventure awaits!” Nicky interrupts, dropping down with an arm around each of their shoulders, startling Mike.
Will grins. And Mike grins too.
He’s having fun, letting go as Will advised. And it feels… good.
They weave through the crowds excitedly to make their way, finally, to the culmination of the day’s activities.
The Pride Parade.
It's already packed to the gills by the time they arrive, hardly a free pace on the sidewalk to walk, much less find a spot to stand and catch a glimpse of the parade.
Will is craning his neck, trying to see the street, even though the floats haven’t begun to pass them yet.
The sun is starting to dip behind the buildings, dropping the street into an artificial shade.
When the first float reaches them the crowd surges forward, the crush of bodies tightening around them and Mike feels a bit overwhelmed by it all. The scent of sweat and sunscreen and cherry lip balm wafts through his nose.
They can’t really see much from the street.
People from the front edge of the crowd pass items back, sharing the joy. Nicky grabs a sticker, and waves Will over, sticking it onto his sleeve, revealing a series of vibrant green and blue stripes – the Gay Pride flag.
Will accepts it with a bright, joyful laugh and Mike’s heart flips at the sound.
The bigger floats are more exciting. They can see the participants and performers on the upper levels, but can’t get eyes on anyone as low as street level. There are simply too many bodies in the way.
Will is straining, standing on his tippy toes trying to see more. Mike feels a wave of affection, a desire to help Will get the most out of this experience. He notices a few people sitting on the shoulders of others.
"Do you want a boost, Will?” he says, pulling Will closer to shout in his ear over the din of the crowd and pointing at the other people, “I can lift you up if you want.”
Will chuckles, appraising him.
“Mike. You can barely lift our groceries up five flights of stairs. You're not gonna be able to lift me. Not for very long, anyway.”
He means it gently, but Mike takes it as a challenge. He looks around, noticing the nearby street posts, marked with two criss-crossing One Way signs, similar to the one from his bedroom back home. The one now hung in his bedroom in their apartment, next to a painting.
He tugs Will’s sleeve again, pointing at the street post.
“C’mon, I'll give you a boost. You can climb up there to get a better look."
Will grins and grabs Mike’s sweaty hand, tugging him through the crowd till they reach the corner.
Mike doesn’t want to let go.
He offers his linked fingers in a stirrup position for Will to step on, and he climbs up the first bit, wrapping his elbow around the post and leaning down to offer his hand to Mike.
“Come up. There’s room!”
Mike goes eagerly, surprised at the ease with which Will pulls him up. They climb a little higher, finding the perfect vantage point, feet delicately balanced on the tops of the walk signals. Room enough for each of them to stand relatively comfortably and survey the crowd below.
Mike feels a bit smug about his idea when he sees a pair of girls start to climb one on the opposite side of the street.
With this new view of the parade, they can both finally see everything – the floats, the parade participants dressed in their bright costumes, handing out flags and stickers and condoms to those in the front row. Will laughs with delight and Mike feels another thrill of adrenaline run through his body as he takes in the joyous spectacle.
The parade pauses, floats stopped in the middle of the street, music blaring, and a nearby float chooses that moment to set off some fireworks from the top tier.
Will’s face tilts up to watch, the colors dancing along his skin.
Will looks so happy. So free.
And suddenly Mike wants it too. He wants a little piece of what Will has.
He wants to embrace change.
Today’s adventure has been a gift and seeing Will like this is the cherry on top. He’s sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead a little, eyes bright, smile wide and full of joy.
He looks so beautiful.
Beautiful?
It’s like slow motion in Mike’s mind, the way it slams into him. The crowd, the crush of bodies, the din of noise. It all falls away as he stares at Will. Something simmering beneath the surface finally breaking through and gasping for air.
The sudden feeling, something new and old at the same time, rippling through him in a wave of emotion.
Oh.
Oh?
Oh boy.
He really wants to kiss Will.
He stares at Will’s lips, his jawline, his neck, taking it all in. Finally understanding it.
And suddenly he can’t stand it for one more second.
Not giving in. Not having it. Not changing.
He taps Will’s shoulder, trying to get his attention.
“W-Will?”
Will is entranced by the spectacle, his whole being sparkling with excitement and adrenaline, looking more and more breathtaking by the second.
Mike leans closer to Will’s ear, whispering “Will?” as he reaches up to Will’s neck to get his attention.
Will finally turns his head to look at Mike, a little startled by the intimate touch and how close they are, colors still dancing in his hair.
They lock eyes and Mike doesn’t move his hand, keeps his palm there, touching Will’s neck. They stare at one another and Mike slowly brushes his thumb along Will’s cheekbone, then across his lower lip.
The whole rest of the world is gone.
Frozen, a breath held.
It's just the two of them.
Two One Way signs pointed at each other, paths leading inevitably here.
Will’s eyes search Mike’s and there’s clarity there. Mutual understanding. His brows soften.
And Mike closes the distance.
Their lips brush and its instant electricity; a spark between them igniting. They separate for just a hair’s breadth and Will whispers, “Mike” softly before pressing back in, harder this time.
They both tilt their heads, lips slotting together like they were made to fit. Two halves locking into place.
Mike parts his lips slightly to take Will’s into his, gently opening and closing them, sucking gently on Will’s lower lip as he does before he feels a zing as Will flicks his tongue onto Mike’s lip. Mike groans, pressing in harder, mouth opening wider to let Will’s tongue in, to press his own against it, licking gently at the inner corners of Will’s lips, teeth. He slides his hand into Will's hair, running his fingers through it, pulling Will closer.
It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced before. A kiss ripped straight out of the movies.
Soft and romantic and bruising and passionate all at once.
And it feels so right. So much better than he could have imagined.
Like a piece of him has been missing, even though it’s been there all along, sharing an apartment, saving the world, growing up together. Finally made whole.
They pull back, eyes fluttering open to look at each other, breaths fast. Will’s eyes are wet and Mike reaches up with his thumb to brush the tears away, wordlessly.
Will’s hand comes up to Mike’s cheek, mirroring him, and he realizes his own cheeks are wet too.
Eyes locked, they both grin and it's easy. Right.
“Okay?” Mike says softly, eyebrows quirking in a question.
“Okay.” Will replies.
A cheer erupts somewhere underneath them and they look down to see Nicky and Dalcio with their heads upturned, watching them and waving with giant, encouraging smiles on both their faces.
Brightly colored confetti is raining from the sky and it looks how Mike feels.
They laugh and Mike wraps his arm around Will’s waist, grinning like an idiot and pulling him tight. Pressing a fervent kiss to his cheek and letting his hand linger there.
His chest is full of butterflies, hand tingling where it rests on Will's warm body, lips still buzzing from the kiss.
He looks down at the two criss-crossed signs in front of him.
One Way.
He chuckles to himself at the irony.
Realizing he’s been on this path the whole time. A one way street leading him here. Leading him back to Will over and over again. Until he could finally recognize it.
It's Pride in New York City.
And Mike just kissed his best friend.
He squeezes Will a little tighter.
He’s ready to change.
He’s ready to let go.
He’s ready to be proud.