Archive of Our Own

Mike Wheeler had never been one to back down from a challenge.

So when the party had been hanging out in his basement and Max and Lucas brought up a game they'd played called 'the chapstick challenge', Mike's interest had immediately been piqued.

Will watched as Mike leaned forward from his position on the couch, staring at the couple intently.

"It's actually kind of difficult," Lucas told them. "At least it was to us. I think we only managed to guess like half of the flavors."

Max slapped his arm. "Speak for yourself, I got more points than you did."

"Yeah, barely," Lucas retorted, wiggling his eyebrows. "I would've gotten more if you weren't so… distracting."

Will, Dustin and Jane made collective gagging noises.

"Wait, what's the point of this game?" Mike asked the two.

Max launched into an explanation: "It's pretty simple actually," she'd said. "You play it with a partner, usually a boyfriend or girlfriend, but I guess you could play it with a friend, too. You need a bunch of chapsticks in different flavors."

She gestured at Lucas, then back at herself. "One person blindfolds themselves while the other applies a chapstick, you get a point if you can guess what chapstick flavor the other person is wearing."

Mike leaned forward, his eyebrows furrowing. "How do you do that?"

Lucas shrugged. "However you want. You can try and smell, or you can try to lick or kiss it off the person's lips."

"It's up to you," Max added. "The important thing is that it has to be guessed from the person's lips, that's kind of the whole point."

Jane, who was sitting next to Will leaned in, murmuring quietly, "Sounds intimate."

Will nodded. It did.

He didn't understand why Mike was so curious about this game. Did he already have a person in mind he'd want to do that stuff with? The thought made his stomach twist into knots.

He'd pretty much tried to let the idea go after that. The game sounded stupid anyways, especially for someone as painfully single as him. Really, he didn't expect anything of it.

That was until Mike asked Will to play it with him.

And so, not even a week after Lucas and Max introduced them to the concept, Will finds himself in his best friend's bedroom, several packages of chapstick spread out across the comforter. His fingers currently fidget with his thin, cotton t-shirt, tugging at the hem of his sleeve absentmindedly.

He can't believe he actually agreed to this— he still isn't quite sure why. Maybe it comes from his inability to say the word 'no' when it involves Mike Wheeler. Or maybe it's because he selfishly knows what taking on this challenge would mean; the anticipation of what they are about to do coils low in his stomach.

Will knows that if he thought about this for longer than two seconds, he'd realize how idiotic the whole thing is. After Jane told him how intimate the whole game sounded, Will tried to tune out the conversation. That didn't stop him from catching onto bits and pieces of Mike and Max's bickering, though. Something about how Max thought Mike wouldn't be good at the game anyways.

Which is probably what sparked Mike's determination to want to attempt it. And of course he'd asked Will; they were best friends after all.

'I wouldn't ask anyone else to do this, and I know it's kind of crazy, but…'

Will should've said no. He's an idiot for thinking he can do this without letting his feelings get in the way. Maybe he can still back out.

He'll tell Mike he can't do this with him.

Mike will be back from the kitchen any second now, returning from his quest to retrieve something they could use as a blindfold for the challenge, and Will could tell him.

He can already imagine Mike's face falling, eyebrows furrowing with concern as he asks Will what's wrong, or why he changed his mind.

Will takes a deep breath. He reaches for one of the chapstick packages as his new fidgeting victim, playing with the plastic covering the three little tubes. Strawberry, mint and vanilla— the classics.

The thought of explaining to Mike why he can't go through with this sends goosebumps down his spine; the concept scares him more than the challenge itself.

'Oh yeah, I know you're straight and probably just doing this to prove a point, but I'm kind of hopelessly in love with you, and the thought of licking, or god forbid kissing your lips, makes my brain go haywire.'

No, he couldn't do that, and he also couldn't really think of any other explanation as to why he would've suddenly changed his mind.

Although Will could understand Mike's reasoning behind asking him, it had still come as a surprise. After everything—his coming-out, defeating Vecna, having to deal with the aftermath of his destruction—Will had tried to keep his distance. He and Mike were good, yes. They'd assured each other they still were best friends, yes. But that didn't erase his feelings, it also didn't erase the fact that Mike now knew he liked boys.

Will became hyper aware of every hurried glance, every touch that passed between them, the visions Vecna had once plagued him with now a nightmare hinging at the back of his mind.

That once Mike found out the truth, the entire truth, he'd become uncomfortable around Will. He'd pull away more and more, until their friendship became a hollow shell of what it used to be.

Will couldn't let that happen; the thought of Mike being uncomfortable because of him—because of his feelings—made him feel sick to his stomach. He'd tried to keep his distance, he really did, but Mike hadn't let him. If Will wouldn't look at him, Mike would shuffle closer, striking up a conversation. He'd throw an arm around his shoulders and ask if everything was alright.

And Will would always say yes. Because where the hell would he even start with trying to explain the irrational fear of losing him?

After a while, Will gave up on trying to keep his distance, though that didn't mean he stops worrying.

So, yeah, Mike wanting to play this game with him, knowing what they'd have to do, knowing Will is into guys, caught him slightly off guard. His chest tightens as his anxiety finds something new to feast on.

What if they start playing and Mike realizes how weird it is to be doing this with Will? What if they finish the game, but Mike is so uncomfortable at having played it with him afterwards that he'll still pull away?

Vecna might be gone, but the seed of doubt he'd planted inside of Will's head all those years ago had strengthened their roots, festering themselves a permanent home inside his mind.

Will's spiraling thoughts are interrupted by the opening of Mike's bedroom door.

"So… I couldn't find any kitchen towels, but I rummaged through the washer and found this, it'll do." Mike waves around his old Hellfire shirt. Will has never actually seen him wear it, but he'd seen pictures during the time he lived in Lenora. He tried not to think of the memory, of the way his cheeks had flushed with heat at the sight.

"Oh yeah… that's fine," Will says, trying to swallow down the bile rising in his throat.

Mike's eyes soften. Sometimes Will wishes he didn't possess the ability to see right through him. "Hey, you okay? We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

And there it is: Will's out. No explanation needed, he could say no and that's that—they'd never have to talk about it again. Will feels some of the tension seeping out from his shoulders at the thought, but it was quickly replaced with a different feeling, one of…disappointment?

Mike seems genuinely excited to attempt this challenge and deep down Will knows his fears, his reasons for saying no are irrational. How many times would Mike have to reassure him they're good before his stupid brain would finally catch up?

"It's not that…" Will sighs softly. "I just don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable? Will, what are you talking about?" Mike quickly shuts the bedroom door and sits down on the bed beside him, eyes traveling along his face. "I mean, I was the one who asked you to do this in the first place, why would I be uncomfortable?"

"I don't know." Will throws his arms up, attempting to articulate his thoughts in a way that made sense. "Because of me… because I'm- because of how I am."

Mike's expression falls. "Will, I don't care about that. Besides, if I was uncomfortable, y'know I wouldn't have asked you in the first place, right?"

Will nods. He knows Mike is right.

"But I'm not, I never have been and I never will be, okay?" Mike adds before glancing down at the packages containing various chapsticks. "You could never make me uncomfortable."

"Okay." Will exhales slowly. "That's good. I'm glad."

"We don't have to play if you don't want to," Mike repeats, shifting his gaze from the packages to Will. "I still have the receipt, I can return these to the store and we can do something else. I have that new X-Men comic I've been wanting to show you."

Will shakes his head, Mike's reassurance having instilled a new, tentative confidence within him. "That won't help you beat Max, now would it?"

Mike grins and Will is quick to match his expression. "No, it wouldn't."

"So," Will says.

"So?"

"Let's play."

⁠♡⁠

Mike and Will spend the next couple of minutes unpacking the chapsticks from their confinements. They don't speak, the air thick with anticipation.

Will reaches for one of the final unopened packs, this one containing fruity flavors, like most of them do. They decide not to open all of them since they already have a pretty big pile spread out on the comforter. He picks at the edge, willing the plastic to come off; these kinds of packets are always difficult to open, and his sweaty hands don't help the matter.

He glances over at Mike, who is folding his t-shirt in a horizontal line, perfectly mimicking a blindfold. Right, because one of them was going to be blindfolded. And the other was going to taste chapstick off of their lips.

Will feels heat coil in his lower stomach, rushing all the way up to his cheeks, his entire body flushing warm. When did it get so hot in here?

"Could you open a window?" he asks, hooking his finger under the plastic and tugging.

Mike looks almost relieved, scrambling off the bed to open his window. If Will didn't know any better, he'd say Mike seems flushed as well. "Yeah, good idea. It's hot in here."

Will finally manages to rip open the package—he lets the chapsticks fall onto Mike's comforter, joining the rest.

Will thinks the amount of chapstick packs Mike bought seem almost excessive. He hasn't exactly counted, but he's pretty sure there are around twenty tubes, if not more, sprawled out across the bed.

Seriously, how many rounds was Mike planning on playing?

Will isn't sure he'll be able to survive after just one.

"So…" Mike begins as he sits back down, crossing his legs and perching up near the footrest so he's facing Will, who's leaning back against the headboard. "Are any flavors speaking to you?"

Will smiles, turning his attention away from the chapsticks to focus on the curly-haired boy in front of him. "Well, telling you now wouldn't be fair, would it?"

"And why's that?"

"Because you'll know which ones I'll want to pick."

Mike sighs, but his eyes twinkle with amusement as he leans back on his palms. "Alright, fine, you caught me."

Will shakes his head in mock disapproval. "You're already playing dirty, huh?"

"I'm not playing dirty! I'm being strategic!" Mike grins. "There's a difference."

Will can't conceal the way the smile blooms across his face. It baffles him sometimes, how Mike never noticed he's in love with him; Will feels like it's so obvious. It's in the way he can feel his eyes soften, and the corner of his lips tug up when Mike does something that reminds Will of why he fell in love with him in the first place.

Will hums. "Strategic, sure. A strategic cheater."

Mike's gaze sharpens and Will can see it, that same strategic determination he always has when someone challenges him. The intensity of it makes Will shudder.

"I don't need to cheat to win," Mike says.

"Fine, prove it then."

"Oh, I will." Mike reaches for the folded Hellfire t-shirt, tugging on both edges. "So, who's going first?"

Will stays silent for a second. He isn't sure what's worse: Mike sitting before him while he's blindfolded, Will having to try to keep his cool and taste a chapstick flavor off of Mike's lips. Or having to watch as Mike tries to do the same.

When he comes to the conclusion that both options make his stomach twist uncomfortably, he speaks:

"You decide."

"Okay," Mike says as he starts lifting the blindfold up to his own face. "I'll start with guessing, you pick a chapstick."

"Okay." Will swallows and his throat feels dry; he should've asked Mike to bring some water while he was down in the kitchen. He watches as Mike ties the t-shirt over his eyes.

Fuck, they're really doing this.

Mike places his hands in his lap when he's done, patiently waiting for Will to tell him he's applied a flavor. Oh. Right. He was supposed to pick one.

Will takes a deep breath, averting his eyes from Mike to look down at the array of choices. His fingers tremble as he traces the small tubes. His mind is so preoccupied with the anticipation of what is about to happen that focusing on picking a chapstick feels almost impossible.

He decides to just go for it, picking up the next best tube.

Strawberry. A classic.

Will uncaps the lid before pausing to look over at Mike. His eyes travel down to his lips, ones that soon might be touching his own. He shivers.

Taking advantage of the fact Mike can't see his unabashed staring, he gives himself a moment to study the rest of his features. Will has always thought that Mike was pretty. Even as kids he'd find himself staring at the other boy when he wasn't looking.

He'd certainly grown into his features, soft lines sharpening, defining and enhancing the very things Will loves to spend his time looking at.

Will remembers noticing these changes all too well. It was the day of his 15th birthday when Mike visited him and Jane in Lenora for spring break. He's pretty sure that's when the definition he used to describe Mike's face changed, from pretty to beautiful.

"Are you ready?" Mike asks, curling and uncurling his hands where they rest on his upper thighs.

"Oh yeah, uhm…one second." Will shakes himself out of his daze, glancing down at the tube. He twists the bottom, rolling it up enough for the chapstick to appear, ready to be applied.

He takes a deep breath and applies it to his lips. The balm is smooth and soft, he glides it along his lower lip. Once, twice, three times, before repeating the process on his upper lip, making sure there's enough product for Mike to be able to smell… or taste.

Will presses his lips together, spreading the product out evenly between them. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm ready."

"Okay," Mike says. "Can you come closer? I don't really trust myself to move and not fall off the bed."

Will chuckles, his voice awfully dry. "Yeah, yeah of course."

He braces himself before shuffling closer to where Mike is sitting crosslegged. He only stops when he's right in front of the other boy, knees brushing against his own. "I'm here."

"You're here," Mike repeats before smiling, pressing his knee more firmly against Will's. "I can't see you."

"Yeah, no shit." Will chuckles.

Mike reaches out, hands finding Will's shoulders. "There you are," He says, his voice soft in a way their friends claim is only reserved for Will. His cheeks flush at the thought and suddenly he's glad Mike can't see him.

Mike's hand slides, thumb poking at his jaw.

"Hey!" Will laughs.

"What? I can't see! This is way harder than it looks, thank you very much."

Mike moves his hand up to Will's cheek, he feels around, looking for a way to pinpoint where Will's lips are, he ends up poking his nose with his index finger.

"Boop, boop." He grins.

"Okay you're just doing this on purpose now." Will says, his stern voice a contrast to his reddening cheeks.

"I'm not doing anything!" Mike feigns innocence, but the wide grin tugging at his lips betray his intentions. His fingers trail down Will's face until his thumb brushes against the corner of his mouth.

"Found it," He whispers, breath hitching. The smile slowly drops from his face, replaced by what Will guesses might be concentration but it's hard to see with the blindfold covering his eyes. Will realizes he might not be the only one who's nervous to do this.

He hates that he can't read Mike's face and see what he's thinking—maybe he'd decided he was uncomfortable with this after all.

"You okay?" Will asks, needing to make sure.

"I'm okay," Mike answers, his tone indistinguishable. Once again Will curses the blindfold, wishing he could see Mike's eyes. They were often a helpful assistant in deciphering his thoughts.

"Do you still wanna…?" Will asks, sentence trailing off as he swallows down the bile rising up his throat.

"Yes! Yes, just let me…" Mike keeps his thumb pressed against the edge of Will's mouth, an indicator for where he needs to be. He leans in and butterflies stir up in Will's stomach, fluttering freely.

Mike tips his head down, nose hovering just over Will's lips. He inhales deeply, attempting to smell the flavor of chapstick Will applied. It was the safe choice and Will is glad he'd decided to go for it. Maybe they could play this entire game just using the smelling technique— they could brag to Max and Lucas about how good they were and their lips wouldn't have to touch, it's a win-win.

Of course, things never quite go as Will wants them to.

"This doesn't work for shit, I can't smell anything," Mike murmurs to himself, but he's close enough for Will to hear every word.

"Maybe you could try again?" Will asks, closing his eyes for a moment, praying to whatever god or entity above. Please let this work, please let this work, please let this wo-

"Nope, I don't smell anything!"

Fuck. "Oh."

"Are you sure you applied enough chapstick?" Mike asks him, pulling back so his nose isn't directly hovering over Will's lips, and Will can see his blindfold-covered face in full. He feels like he can breathe again.

"I applied like six layers total!" Will huffs. "Maybe your sense of smell is bad."

"Excuse you, my sense of smell is just fine!" Mike matches his tone, a smile tugging at his lips. "I guess I'll have to try another method."

Will's eyes widen, his pleads for mercy seemingly going unanswered. "Right, of course."

Mike leans in again, but he doesn't tilt his head down this time, keeping his face leveled with Will's who's eyes flutter shut— he's not sure if it's out of instinct or nervousness. He can feel Mike's hot breath ghost over his lips as they part ever so slightly. Blood rushes to Will's head, leaving him awfully lightheaded.

Mike's tongue darts out and licks along his bottom lip. The contact is brief, it's barely a second but it makes Will's body feel like it's been set on fire. His own lips part instinctively and he inhales a shaky breath.

"Mike."

"Yeah?" Mike pulls back slightly and Will's eyes flicker down, watching as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth.

He doesn't know what to say; he's not sure he even knows how to breathe.

"Strawberry," Mike says after a moment, his voice wavering.

"What?"

"The flavor… is it strawberry?"

Will blinks. For a second he'd forgotten all about the game or the reason why Mike did what he did in the first place. All he could think of was that singular second, the hot, wet drag of Mike's tongue brushing along his bottom lip.

"Uhh." What flavor did Will pick? He honestly couldn't remember. He glances down at the tube. "Y-yeah, it's strawberry."

Mike grins, he reaches back to untie the blindfold, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight filling the room. Will looks away while he still can, a futile attempt to hide his rosy cheeks.

"Are you okay?"

Will looks up to find Mike's eyes already on him, and he looks… worried, almost, like he's afraid he's crossed some invisible line he wasn't supposed to. Will's pretty sure that line already got crossed the moment they decided to play this game—and he'd chosen to step over it just as much as Mike did.

"I'm good," Will says, nodding. "I guess you just surprised me."

"Right, sorry. I should've been more clear." Mike's eyes stay on Will like he's searching for something, any indication on if he went too far. "Was it okay?"

"Yeah, Mike." Will smiles. It's one of the things he's always loved about Mike: the way he always looks out for Will's well-being. "It's okay. You can't play the game without trying to taste the flavor, can you?"

"No, you can't." Mike smiles back. He extends his arm, holding out the t-shirt to Will. "I guess it's your turn, let's see if you can catch up."

Will huffs as he takes the fabric from Mike, ignoring the flutter in his stomach as their fingers brush. "You won one round, don't get ahead of yourself."

"I dunno, Will. My success rate is a hundred percent."

"After one round!"

Mike gasps dramatically. "Are you doubting my skills?"

"Your skills in… chapstick tasting?" Will deadpans.

Maybe he imagines it, maybe the previous feel of Mike's tongue on his lips has him going crazy, but Will swears he can see Mike's eyes flicker down to his lips.

"Yeah, they're a very specific set of skills."

"I uhh…" Will scratches his throat before smirking. "I think your singular victory is going to your head."

Mike gestures down to the blindfold in Will's hands. "Let's see if you can do any better, then."

Will's fingers curl around the fabric; it's soft. It probably smells like Mike. He wonders what it would look like on himself. Mike's always been taller, his limbs stretched and lanky, his clothes always a tad bit too large on Will's own frame.

He remembers having to wear them when he and his family moved in with the Wheelers, and it used to drive him crazy. The cuffs of Mike's shirts would fall past his wrists, smelling of that fruity laundry detergent Mrs. Wheeler used mixed with something so quintessentially Mike. He knew it had been out of necessity, and yet his mind couldn't help but twist it into something it wasn't, just like now.

He hadn't worn Mike's clothes in a while. He lives in his own house now, and friends don't wear each other's clothes just because they can.

Friends don't lick each other's lips either.

"Do you need help?" Mike's voice cut through his thoughts, limiting his ability to think too long or hard about the commentary his brain oh-so-helpfully supplied.

"What?"

Mike gestures down at the blindfold. "Putting it on," he clarifies, fingers tapping rhythmically against his knee. "Do you need help?"

Will smiles. "I'm good, Mr. Impatient."

"You were staring out into space!" Mike exclaims.

"Was not!" Will retorts, quickly busying himself by bringing the t-shirt up and around his eyes in the hopes of also covering the flush rising up his cheeks. He pulls the shirt taut against his face, wrapping the fabric around his head and tying the ends into a knot, or well trying to.

His hands are clammy, a faint tremor running through them, both in nervousness and excitement. He attempts to pull one end through the loop created with the other, but it keeps slipping from his grip.

He huffs under his breath, his cheeks flushing even brighter as he realizes Mike is probably sitting there and watching him fiddle around. He shifts on the mattress and it almost feels like the bed is moving with him, a weight shifting from one place to another. He pays no mind to it, growing increasingly frustrated as the knot won't tie.

Then, Will feels the weight settle behind him, and before he can even register it, hot puffs of breath brush the sensitive skin below his ear.

"Are you nervous?" Will can practically hear Mike grin, like he's enjoying this opportunity to torment him. Asshole. "Scared you won't be able to live up to my score?" Mike continues, and Will wants to remove the t-shirt and wack him across the head with it.

"Just shut up and help me put this on," Will replies, eyes rolling behind the fabric, his lips twitching upwards.

"What's the magic word?" Mike muses.

Yup, it's decided. Will is going to kill him… or kiss him. The second option grows more likely by the second.

"I'm waiting," Mike says when Will doesn't respond, his hands gentle as they take the two ends from Will, holding them patiently.

"You're so annoying." Will huffs in an attempt to regain some semblance of control over the situation, or, much rather, his willingness to it. "Remind me why I agreed to this again?"

"Because you're the best, and because I wouldn't do this with anyone else," Mike replies earnestly.

"So, you're lucky I'm even willing to play this game with you then? Since you wouldn't do it with anyone else?" Will tries to ignore the flutter in his stomach at Mike's admission.

"Yeah. I guess I am," Mike replies.

"So, shouldn't you be the one saying the magic word?"

"Will." Mike huffs like he's about to tell him he's being ridiculous.

"Mike," Will replies, then in that same singsong tone Mike used: "I'm waiting."

Will hears a faint mutter behind him. "I can't hear you."

"…Please."

"Please what?" Will pushes.

"Please… I don't know! Let me help you tie this thing."

"Sure," Will replies, utterly satisfied even as he hears more unintelligible mumbles coming from behind him.

He can't help but smile. Whatever crazy shit Mike and Will were doing or going through, they always remained Mike and Will. They bicker, they make stupid jokes, and most importantly they trust each other completely. Will isn't sure if there was ever a moment where he didn't. He remembers a conversation he'd had with Mike a while before their final face-off with Vecna. Will had been mentally preparing himself for the idea that he might not get out of there unscathed, or that he might not get out of there at all.

He remembers talking to Mike about it, and he'd stopped him right in his tracks. "Whatever happens, we're getting out of there Will, all of us." Then as he'd placed his hand on his shoulder: "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, not again. I need you to trust me on that."

And so Will did, even if he didn't quite believe him, he'd trusted him. And now they were here, on Mike's bed and Will was trusting him again in a completely different circumstance.

Trusting Mike with his life was easy enough, he knew how to handle it, how to protect it. Trusting Mike with his heart, however, proved more difficult. It's hard protecting something while unknowingly being the cause of damage in the first place.

He didn't blame Mike for it; of course he didn't. The responsibility to protect his feelings was his and his alone. Not that he's doing a very good job of it, since the object of his very affection is currently tying a blindfold around his eyes in order to continue playing a fucking kissing game.

"There we go," Mike mumbles, pulling the ends into a knot, securing the cotton around Will's eyes. His hands slide down to his shoulders, squeezing gently. "You're all set." He pauses, then leans in, his lips close to Will's ear again; his tone drops to that low, teasing register. "You're welcome."

Will hears shuffling, probably Mike positioning himself in front of Will again. "I'm going to pick a chapstick now, and I won't be going easy on you."

Will huffs. "I didn't know chapsticks had difficulty levels." He blinks into the darkness, feeling the fabric brush his lashes as they flutter.

"Well, they do. You picked an easy one. Everyone knows what strawberry tastes like!" Mike explains, he hears the sound of plastic tubes clinking against each other as Mike undoubtedly looks through the flavors.

"Right, and what would a difficult flavor be exactly?" Will questions him.

"Taste it and find out," Mike says, and that really shouldn't have sounded as hot as it did.

It's quiet as he listens to the sound of Mike uncapping a lid. Will feels like he's holding his breath, his body tenses in anticipation as he waits for Mike to give him a sign that he's ready.

He waits and waits, returning to fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve as time drags on. Seriously, how long does it take to apply the damn thing?

"Are you done?" he asks when he can't take it anymore.

"Yeah! Yeah, sorry. I'm done."

Will nods, shifting forward, focusing on the sound of Mike's breathing and the warmth radiating off of his body as a way to locate him. He reaches out, fingers brushing Mike's arm. The fact that he can't see seems to heighten all of his other senses, especially when he feels a hand placed atop his own, sending a jolt of electricity down his spine.

"Sorry," Mike says when he feels Will flinch. "Just trying to help."

"It's okay," Will replies, every fiber of his being seems to be focused on where his skin touches Mike, the boy's palm a soft pressure against the back of his hand. He feels the hand slide down, fingers curling around Will's wrist. Mike gently guides his hand away and Will lets him. Mike's fingers feel warm and sweaty curled around his wrist, but he moves with a steady determination.

Will's breath hitches as his hand makes contact with Mike's jaw. "There," Mike says almost breathlessly, releasing his grip on Will's hand now that he's brought it to its destination.

Will doesn't mourn the loss of contact, too focused on the soft skin beneath his fingertips instead. He brushes his thumb across the line of Mike's jaw and he swears he can feel the other boy lean into the touch. Will wishes he could see him, but on the other hand maybe he wouldn't even be bold enough to do this if that were the case.

His mind races, trying to focus on anything other than the way he's touching Mike right now. "You're just helping me so I can't take my revenge and poke you back," Will says softly, speaking any louder in this proximity just feels wrong.

"I'm offended you view my helpful actions as a mere ploy!" Mike matches his tone, a smile in his voice; Will wishes he could see it. Even though he can't, a matching one blooms across his face.

"Well yeah, I know how you work." Will uses the streak of confidence the blindfold has granted him to slide his hand up and poke at Mike's face. He doesn't really know where the jab lands, not until he hears Mike yelp.

"Ow! Jesus Christ, Will, that's my eye!"

"Shit, sorry!" Will jerks back his hand, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip in an attempt to suppress the giggles trying to surface.

"You went straight for assault, didn't you?" He can tell Mike is joking, but he can also hear the genuine grunt of pain as he speaks. He places his hand back on Mike's face, his thumb brushing the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, more earnestly this time. "I didn't mean to…" Will trails off, feeling a faint brush of fingers against the back of his hand, and warmth rushes through him. It's like Mike is comforting him instead of the other way around.

He knows he needs to get a move on; he needs to do something to start the round, but every option makes his head spin. And if he was supposed to trust Mike's judgement, smelling—the only safe option—wasn't all that effective.

Will slowly moves his thumb, brushing it against the shape of Mike's bottom lip, and he feels Mike's hand twitch against his own. It's magnetizing, the way he feels Mike respond to his touch.

Will presses down against the skin, his lips are so soft, moisturized with the applied chapstick and Will wishes he was brave enough to just lean in and lick it off. But he's not, so he swipes along Mike's bottom lip, gathering the balm on the pad of his thumb.

"Will, what are you-" Mike's sentence trails off when Will sucks his thumb in between his own lips, tongue swiping along the pad in an attempt to taste the flavor.

"I- that's- you…" He hears Mike stutter weakly. It's quiet for a moment while Will attempts to identify the taste coating his tongue. It's…sweet, resembling vanilla, but not quite, like there's more to it.

Mike seems to regain himself. "That's- that's cheating! You can't do that!" He speaks like Will's actions have personally offended him, like they're a crime against Mike's oh-so-precious winning streak.

Will hums absentmindedly, more focused on identifying the flavor. He wasn't going to get away with this tactic a second time. He presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his eyes are fluttered shut even beneath the darkness, but as much as he tries to concentrate, it's of no use. The taste dissolves quickly, leaving him only with the hints of sweetness and faint vanilla he'd already been able to identify.

"Well?" Mike asks, the faint amusement in his voice not quite translating as it wavers. Maybe Will had actually offended him.

"Vanilla?" He guesses, even though he knows it's not the right answer, it's all he's got.

"Wrong," Mike replies before adding. "I told you I wasn't going easy on you, vanilla is like difficulty level one."

Mike and his stupid chapstick difficulty levels. He just had to make Will's life that much harder. Asking him to play a game that was soon to send him into cardiac arrest, just to then pick a flavor which was nearly impossible to guess! It was like Mike wanted Will touching his lips. He didn't dwell on that last thought for too long.

"And also," Mike continues. "You cheated! You're not supposed to wipe it off and then taste."

"So, first there are difficulty levels and now there's a rulebook?" Will replies back even though he damn well knows Mike is right. Max and Lucas explained how the game worked, so they had a pretty clear idea of what to do and what not to do.

"You're lucky you didn't guess it, because you wouldn't have gotten the point if so."

Will laughs. "Oh my god, Mike. You're such a baby."

"How am I a baby for playing fair?!"

"You just are!" Will can't contain himself as his shoulders shake and he hunches over while laughing.

"You're the baby." There's no real animosity in the way Mike says it, only the familiar fondness of bickering with someone you've known for the past 13 years. "And you still haven't guessed correctly."

"I'm aware."

There's a beat of silence; it stretches. The room is quiet, Mike's breathing is soft, the world behind Will's eyes nothing but darkness— like everything was waiting for him to make a move.

And so he does. He reaches out, his hand finding Mike's jaw and he leans in. Will realizes, a little too late, that this time around he has no gameplan whatsoever. The realization hits him, knocking the air from his lungs when he feels his lips brush against something other than air.

It's warm and it's soft and they're Mike's lips. His lips are touching Mike's. It's barely a kiss, but a surge of panic rises, one he tries with all his might to push down.

Think of Mike's lips. Wait, no, that's a terrible idea. Do not under any circumstance think of that. The flavor, he was supposed to guess the flavor.

Guesstheflavor, guesstheflavor, guesstheflavor.

The words are a mantra, they're the only thing keeping him from drowning deeper into the sensation.

Will pulls back, inhaling sharply. He runs his tongue across his bottom lip where the balm had gathered.

Vanilla. Sugar. Sweet fluffiness.

"Cotton candy," He splutters, using any semblance of a breath he has to push the words out.

It's quiet. Again. And Will can't breathe. He can't breathe until Mike responds to him, until he tells him whether he's guessed correctly.

But he's not saying anything and Will really needs air.

Fuck it.

Will unties the blindfold, slipping open the knot Mike had tied into it and letting it fall down into his lap. His eyes find Mike's and just like that his lungs expand, gratefully accepting the air that's been begging to enter.

He doesn't look upset, he doesn't look disgusted, at most he's shocked. Like he hadn't anticipated Will to be this bold. His cheeks are flushed, his lips parted slightly and his eyes are blown wide.

"Mike?"

Will's voice seems to snap him out of his daze, his eyes meet Will's, refocusing before snapping away. "Yeah." Mike runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, it's cotton candy."

"Cool." Will recoils. Cool? Seriously?

"Cool," Mike replies. His eyes carefully make their way up to Will's again, and he's looking at him with an almost disbelieving admiration. Will recognizes it all too well; it resembles the look Mike gave him when he killed those demos at the MAC-Z, like he couldn't believe Will had actually just done that.

"All that big talk just for us to be tied now," Will mutters, his eyes still locked on Mike's. He feels like his heart might beat out of his chest.

"Yeah, well, we're not done yet," Mike says, his gaze shifting between Will's eyes like he's searching for something. The intensity of it makes Will squirm. "Right?"

Will nods his head in agreement. "We're not done."

"And I could still beat you." The way Mike speaks is quiet, his tone void of that competitive edge from earlier, like Will had whisked away his confidence with a single brushing of lips.

God, he really shouldn't be thinking about that again.

Still, he smiles. "I could still beat you." Will feels comfortable retreating back to the familiar bounds of their friendship where it's easier to hide the truth. He knows how to act normal, and he doesn't have to worry about crossing a line and risk saying or doing something that would reveal the true nature of his feelings.

But the game made this more dangerous; doing these things with Mike feels dangerous. Reminding himself of their friendship gives him something to hold onto, a tangible reminder of what this was about in the first place.

Mike's probably just glad that they're still okay, still friends— best friends, and that doing this together doesn't change that, or make things weird. Will would be damned if he let his feelings get in the way.

Will has spent years wanting Mike. His stomach would flutter when their eyes so much as met or their fingers brushed. He would replay every smile and every compliment on a loop in his mind before sleeping, like his own personal lullaby. And on the rarest of occasions, when he didn't have any he could think of, he would make scenarios up himself. He'd fantasize about Mike asking him out to the movies, how he'd pay for their popcorn, how their fingers would inch closer on the shared armrest before intertwining.

That didn't happen often, however. He didn't allow himself to think like that. Only when the night's shadow was powerful enough to swallow up that familiar shame and he was on the brink of sleep, hardly thinking straight. That's when his mind had free reign.

He remembers an in-depth fantasy he'd had one night. He wasn't sure if it had been that or a dream, but what he does remember is waking up the next morning. He'd kissed Mike, and it had felt so real. His lips had felt soft and perfect against his own and Mike held Will like he was the most precious thing in the world. Emotions flooded Will before he could so much as blink. Euphoria, realization, and most vividly of all, shame.

Because whatever wandering thoughts Will allowed himself to have the night before, they never came without conditions, without the deep feeling of shame haunting him the next day. It sat below the surface of his skin, prickling uncomfortably as if reminding him of his sins. Because boys weren't supposed to think about kissing other boys. It's what his father told him, it's what he'd heard preached at his local church or by the kids and teachers at school.

That was the last night Will had ever allowed himself to fantasize about Mike. He'd been ten years old.

It had taken him another six years to accept himself for who he was. And sure, the ache of wanting Mike has lessened now that he's been coming to terms with the fact that Mike isn't like him. But it seems like that want never quite goes away, and maybe it never would, maybe it's something he'll have to live with permanently. Like the scar burned into his lower abdomen.

But whatever happens and however he might feel, Will refuses to let it ruin their friendship. He knows Mike loves and values him, and maybe it's not in the same way Will does, but he had to let it be enough. It needed to be enough. He couldn't lose Mike.

"Will?"

Will looks up at the boy sitting just across from him. "Yeah?"

"Thank you." Mike simply says.

"For what? For playing the game?" Will shakes his head. "You don't have to thank me, Mike." He pauses. "It's fun." And he means it, it is fun. It's nervewracking and he feels like he's riding a rollarcoaster on a never-ending loop— but Will would be lying if he said he isn't enjoying himself, even throughout all the emotional turmoil.

"Just… for everything." Mike shrugs. "For trusting me enough to do this with me."

"Yeah, of course I trust you," Will answers without a doubt.

Mike looks at him, really looks at him. "I… I need to know you won't do anything you don't want to do. I know I can get lost in stuff like this, but I never want it to feel like I'm pushing you to do anything." He talks fast, the words leaving him within the same breath. "You can just say the word and I'll stop what I'm doing, or stop the game, whatever you want."

"Mike."

"And you also shouldn't feel pressured to do something just because I can't shut up about winning. You're more important than winning."

"Mike," Will says again, firmer this time, he reaches out to squeeze his arm. "Where is this coming from?"

Mike blinks. "You kissed me."

"What?!" Will feels his cheeks flush an impossible shade of red, his hand dropping back to his side.

"To taste the chapstick!" Mike gestures down to the t-shirt in Will's lap. "You kissed me."

Will feels a surge of panic rise. Was this it? Did he cross the line? "I thought that was part of the game!"

"No, it is." Mike's voice softens. "I just… I don't want you to regret doing it."

"I don't," Will says firmly.

"You don't?" Mike asks, his shoulders dropping like a weight has been lifted off.

"I know how to say no or how to stand up for myself, Mike. I wouldn't let anyone—not even you—pressure me into doing something I don't want to."

Mike smiles brightly, like he's proud of him. "Good."

"Same goes for you. Don't do anything you don't want to." Will reminds him.

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing I wouldn't want to do with you, Will." Mike says it like it's a fundamental truth. It makes Will's head spin.

"Oh come on, Mike," he says disbelievingly. "That's not true."

"What do you mean?!" Mike huffs as if offended Will would even question him. "Yes it is!"

"Nothing?" Will questions.

"Yeah, nothing," Mike echoes firmly. "Name one thing I wouldn't do with you. We fought interdimensional monsters together, Will. I'm pretty sure it can't get crazier than that."

Will flushes. He really needs to get his mind out of the gutter, although he's pretty sure the stuff he's thinking of would shut Mike up effectively, he's not ready for the sting of rejection it would cause.

"Okay," Will says calmly when he settles on something. "Eating spiders."

Mike's face draws up in disgust. "Ew! Why would we eat spiders?!"

Will shrugs. "You said there was nothing you wouldn't do with me. Eating spiders is something we could do together."

"Why would we ever do that?!"

"Oh my god, Mike, that's not the point." Will pokes his shoulder. "Would you or would you not eat spiders with me?"

"No, Will. I wouldn't eat spiders with you." He swats his finger away, rubbing at the spot.

Will smiles, satisfied. "So there is something you wouldn't do with me."

"Whatever." Mike sulks. "Forget I said anything." He reaches out to snatch the t-shirt from Will's lap, folding it into shape again. "It's my turn, and I'm still beating you." Just like that the competitiveness is back but it's different this time, laced with a reassurance that neither one of them would cross their own boundaries.

Will smiles, shifting his focus back down to the tubes and picking out the next flavor as Mike blindfolds himself. "Do you need help?" He asks, making sure Mike knows he'd gladly return his favor from last round.

"I got it," Mike says, dropping his arms back to his sides when he finishes smoothly tying the ends into a knot.

Will considers his options this time around. He went for strawberry in the first round and Mike went for cotton candy in the second, maybe Mike expects him to pick a 'difficult' flavor now as well.

He picks up a tube, the label reading 'grapefruit'. Will drops it back onto the comforter. He sifts through a couple of other options, his eyes continuously drifting back to one tube in particular. A yellow plastic label that reads 'vanilla'.

Will can already imagine Mike's response, lecturing him on picking another 'easy' or 'basic' one. But hey, maybe this was the right strategy, maybe Mike wholeheartedly believes he will pick something else and wouldn't even consider vanilla. Besides, cotton candy was pretty similar, maybe this would throw him off.

Will likes vanilla; he loves the smell and the ice cream flavor. It also reminds him of his old house, of his mother's laundry detergent and his favorite body wash. God, maybe he was predictable.

Sure of his choice, he uncaps the lid and twists the bottom, making sure to apply a generous amount just like last time.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Mike doesn't move. "Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I take this thing off?" Mike tugs at the shirt wrapped around his head.

Will's blood runs cold. "What? Why?"

"I mean, I don't know exactly how Max and Lucas played it but are you really supposed to just keep this thing on the entire round? It seems impractical."

"So you want to take it off?" Will blinks, dumbfounded.

"Yeah. I mean you've already applied the chapstick right? If I take it off now, it'll be easier for me to see what I'm doing."

"Right," Will murmurs. "That makes sense."

Mike stops shuffling. "Is that weird?"

"Probably." It's quiet for a moment, and Will doesn't say anything else. Maybe Mike was right—it doesn't make much sense to keep their blindfolds on when Will has already applied the chapstick. While the thought of Mike seeing him while they were that close to each other has Will's head spinning, it would be nice to get more context to what he might be thinking.

"But you're right." Will breaks the silence. "It's better to take it off."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Will nods even though Mike can't see, and he places the vanilla chapstick back between the others before watching as Mike unties the blindfold. His eyes find Will's again and he smiles.

"Hi."

"Hi." Will smiles back, mentally bracing himself. The fact that they can see each other now makes everything feel so real. He watches as Mike tosses the fabric somewhere beside him on the bed and shuffles closer. And this time Will is sure of what he sees when Mike's gaze flickers down, his pupils widening as he stares at his balmed lips.

"This uhm…" Mike takes a shuddering breath. "This is going to make it easier."

"Easy's good," Will replies, mentally facepalming himself afterwards because what does that even mean?

Mike looks back up at him. They weren't close enough for their noses to brush or their breaths to mingle, but the anticipation was enough to make Will lightheaded. "It's just a game," he mutters to himself; everything was going to be fine.

"What?"

"It's just a game," Will repeats, this time to Mike, even though the words leave a sour taste in his mouth. "This," Will gestures between them, "it isn't weird, because it's all part of the game."

"Right," Mike replies, voice flat. He lowers his gaze, "it's all a part of the game."

Will can't help but feel like he did something wrong. His mind races, grasping for straws but coming back empty-handed. "Did I say something wrong?"

"What? No!" The words are rushed, like Mike wants to make sure not a second goes by where Will believes he's at fault. "No, maybe I'm just an idiot."

Will's really starting to feel like he's missing a piece of the puzzle when it comes to Mike Wheeler's inner-thoughts. "You're not an idiot."

Mike's eyes flicker down to Will's lips again. "I really hope not."

"Scared to lose your 'winning streak'?" Will raises his fingers up in quotation marks with a teasing smile. That's probably what Mike meant, he didn't want to look like an idiot and lose the game.

"Oh." Mike blinks, seemingly surprised by Will's assumption. "I mean, yeah, who wouldn't be?"

Will smiles, tilting his head to the side. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm supposed to take it up against you, the almighty sorcerer! How's a mere peasant like me supposed to compete?" Mike sighs dramatically, clutching a hand to his chest.

Will giggles. "You're not a peasant. You're Mike the Brave." He shoves him gently. "My knight in shining armor."

Mike chuckles, letting himself be shoved back before shuffling to Will, closer than before. Now, Will can feel the warm puff of breath as he speaks. "Well, I'm not here to protect you right now."

"No?" Will murmurs.

"No." Mike leans in, as if the words are meant to be spoken merely to Will's lips. "I'm here to beat you."

Will feels shivers run down his spine; the effect Mike Wheeler has on him should be studied. He feels a hand come up to cup his face, a thumb brushes over his cheek. "You ready?"

Will nods, not trusting himself to speak. He watches Mike lean in closer, pausing just before their lips touch, then Will's eyes flutter shut. There's a moment of silence where time feels like it's frozen, like that moment on a rollercoaster right before the drop—you know it's coming, but it feels like an eternal wait.

When Mike's lips press against his, Will decides it's a thousand times better than any rollercoaster. It's different than what Will did earlier. It isn't a shy brushing of lips, and it's certainly not something you can deny being a kiss. Mike's hand tightens its grip on the side of Will's face, his lips pressing firmer against Will's. He resists the urge to grab Mike and kiss him back, but that's not what this is about. It's hard to remind himself of it though, especially when Mike tilts his head and drags his bottom lip across Will's top one. It lasts for just a second before he pulls back.

He doesn't go far, his nose brushing Will's, his lips parting as he inhales softly. Will can still feel Mike's lips against his own, a phantom tingle that lingers in a way that is both a reminder and makes him crave more.

"And?" he whispers. He's not sure Mike heard him, he's not sure the words even left his mouth in the first place.

"Tastes like you," Mike murmurs against his lips. Will's not sure he's hearing him correctly—what was he even asking about? Oh right, the flavor.

He really wants to kiss Mike again.

"What?"

"I don't know." Mike pulls back just enough to look at him, but he doesn't go far, his hand still cupping Will's cheek. "It just… it just tastes like you."

"That doesn't make any sense." Will glances down at Mike's lips, now glossy from the transferred chapstick, and he might honest-to-god pass out.

"I know."

"That's not a chapstick flavor."

"I know."

"So what flavor is it?"

"I don't know." Mike huffs out a soft laugh.

"Well I guess you'll just have to try again then," Will says, and he feels a bit guilty for how badly he wants it to happen again.

Mike nods and Will feels his hand tremble against his face. He covers Mike's hand with his own. "Are we still good?"

Mike smiles at the check-in. "We're good." He leans in again and Will closes his eyes, his body buzzing as he waits for Mike to reconnect their lips again. To his surprise, he doesn't. Instead Will once again feels Mike's tongue against him, it drags along his bottom lip, slower this time, with a confidence there that hadn't been present in the first round. Will feels the balm being licked off as Mike carefully gathers it on his tongue, his lips now slick with spit instead of chapstick.

Mike pulls back, retracting his tongue back into his own mouth. His eyes are shut, his face one of utter, silent concentration.

Will can only watch, mesmerized by the boy in front of him. There was a moment of disappointment when Mike hadn't kissed him again, but any contact of lips or tongue was enough to send Will's mind to another planet anyways. Besides, maybe licking just worked better for him.

Mike opens his eyes with a soft smile. "Vanilla."

In the previous rounds, Will had been glad when either of them guessed the correct chapstick. It meant the round was over and whatever emotional turmoil he had gone through had payed off. But this round was different.

Will almost wishes Mike hadn't guessed correctly yet, that he would have to try again. It was greedy and stupid and wrong.

It wasn't about the kissing, and any contact between the two of them was simply a tool, a way of guessing what chapstick the other was wearing.

Will had been doing so well reminding himself of the fact, but it seems like Mike's kiss may actually have sent his mind to outer space. And Will's not sure how to get it back.

Will nods. "You got it."

Mike watches Will for a second before shuffling back, creating a distance that makes Will realize how shallow his breathing had been ever since he came close. "Well don't look so bummed," Mike says and Will flushes, does he know?

"I'm sure you can still catch up." Nope, of course he has no idea.

"Yeah," Will says as he looks down at the arrays of chapsticks Mike bought. They weren't going to be using every single one, were they? They'd be here for hours. Suddenly that prospect fills him with excitement rather than dread. "I'm sure I will."

Time seems to fly by as they keep playing and Will wishes it wouldn't.

There were too many things his mind occupied itself with, like which chapstick flavor he should pick in his next round, or how he didn't have the guts to do what Mike did and press his lips against the other boy's, kissing him firmly. Instead he licked tentatively or brushed them together briefly.

It works well mostly— except for one round where he really hadn't been able to guess and gave up. As it turned out, Mike picked grapefruit. Will almost regretted not picking it himself in the third round if it wasn't for the memory of Mike's earlier words still echoing through his mind. 'Tastes like you.'

Will ended up being the guesser on the round after as well, and he'd won that one with the help of his great friend, watermelon chapstick.

To his disappointment however, Mike didn't kiss him like that again. He spend the next couple of rounds licking slowly at Will's lips and guessing successfully. Every. Single. Time.

It should piss Will off— and, well, it does, but unfortunately his thoughts can't help but shift back to that godforsaken third round. He gets why Mike hadn't done it again. It hadn't worked.

He'd only been able to guess the flavor once he licked Will's lips and that tactic seemingly worked for him. He had no reason to kiss Will again; it didn't benefit him in the game, so why would he?

Will tries not to let it sting. He's been so careful, so conscious of protecting his heart. He's been reminding himself constantly that this is a game. He can't allow one stupid moment, one stupid kiss to change that. To be the thing that finally breaks him.

Mike and Will agreed on ten rounds. If the score ties, they'd extend it to twelve. If it ties again, they'd both win, and since they already seem better at this than Lucas and Max, earning enough points to brag to them has already been accomplished.

They've played nine rounds so far. Will won four and lost one. Mike won four and has one more to play. If he guesses correctly on this last round, he'll be the winner.

Will, for what might well be the last time, looks between the chapsticks. This is an important one. If he still wants a chance to draw and for the game to keep on going, he needs to pick a chapstick Mike will have difficulty guessing. He takes his time, picking up tubes and tossing them back onto the comforter again.

As Will's eyes land on one of the very few unopened packs, he gets an idea. They'd unpacked most of the flavors, having left only a few closed, as they knew they weren't going to need all of them.

Will nibbles on his lower lip as his eyes stay trained on a three pack of unopened soda chapsticks. They've only played with fruity ones so far, so it would probably catch Mike off-guard…

No, he couldn't. That feels like cheating.

But it wasn't, and Will needs all the help he can get if he still wants to win. He is probably gonna spend the night at Mike's house to sleep over, and he doesn't want to have to listen to him brag all night.

"Hey, Mike?" Will asks the boy who's currently still blindfolded and waiting patiently.

"Yeah what's up?" Mike smirks. "You're not chickening out, are you?"

That's it, Will has decided. No mercy.

"No, of course not. I was just wondering if you could get me a glass of water? My throat is really dry. I've already picked a chapstick so I'll just apply it when you're downstairs."

Mike unties the blindfold immediately. "Of course." He smiles at Will. "Do you need anything else?"

Will shakes his head. "Just water is fine. Thank you."

"Anytime." Mike scrambles off the bed and heads out. His willingness to just get up and get Will whatever he wants almost makes him feel guilty. Keyword: Almost.

Will moves fast, grabbing the unopened pack and tearing it open. The plastic comes off more smoothly than any of the other packs he attempted to open at the start of the game, like the universe was telling him this was the move.

He peels the cola flavor out, making quick work of applying it. He slides the balm across his lips, smacking them together.

He can already hear Mike ascending the stairs, he pops the cola chapstick back into the package and shoves the entire thing under his pillow.

"There. One glass of water for the gentleman." Mike kicks the door shut with his foot, placing the glass on his nightstand before plopping down on the bed. His eyes dart down to Will's lips. "I see you're ready… to lose."

Will rolls his eyes. He's grateful for Mike's snarkiness, it makes the entire kind-of-playing-dirty thing feel more justified. "Only if you guess the taste."

"Will." He smiles. "Oh, sweet Will. Last time I checked, my success rate still is a hundred percent."

Will shrugs, and he can't resist the urge to smile as well. "Well maybe that's about to change."

Mike shuffles closer, the gesture of him cupping Will's cheeks now a familiar one. "I guess there's only one way to find out," he murmurs as he leans in.

Will closes his eyes, a surge of heat rushing through him as he waits for the inevitable moment Mike's tongue will touch his lips. Will can feel his proximity, the heat of a face so incredibly close to his. He can even feel it when Mike parts his lips, warm breath ghosting over his face. He wants nothing more than to capture it with his mouth. He waits and he waits and wonders what's taking so long.

Has Mike discovered his little scheme? Maybe he could smell the cola from where he's at already, maybe his lips or his tongue will never touch Will's again. He tries not to let the thought disappoint him; it has no right.

"Mi—", just as he's about to speak, Mike cuts him off. Not with the warm drag of a tongue, but instead the firm press of his lips. Will resists the urge to sigh against his mouth. Mike's other hand comes up to the side of his neck and oh, that's new.

Will feels him tilt his head, Mike's lips pressing harder against his own. It takes Will every fiber of his being not to kiss him back.

Mike pulls away, gasping for breath even though the contact couldn't have lasted longer than fifteen seconds. "I can't taste anything."

"Oh," Will says, fully expecting Mike to go back in and lick again. "Maybe you should—"

Mike cuts him off again. His lips push against Will's, and instead of deepening the contact, he parts his lips, sucking Will's bottom one in between them. His tongue laps at the skin, collecting the balm.

Will feels dizzy, his hands come up to Mike's shoulders in an attempt to steady himself, his fingers curling into the cotton of his shirt.

Mike releases Will's bottom lip, licking along them before pulling back, his arms retreating back to his sides. His eyes find Will's, his pupils dialated, like he's drunk on the sensation of kissing him. His chest rises and falls rapidly and he seems to come back to his senses after a moment. "Was- was that okay?"

Will nods shakily.

"Will." Mike pleads, voice raspy. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes," Will manages to push out. "Yes, it's okay." He watches Mike, his own breathing shallow. "Did you guess it?"

"No."

"S-so you give up?"

"I don't want to," he says, holding Will's eyes. "I want to keep going."

"Okay… so keep going."

Will's permission seems to be enough for Mike, this time using both hands to cup Will's face as he kisses him again. His own find Mike's shoulders and he sighs against his lips. He's about to curse himself mentally for doing so when he feels Mike smile.

"I don't know how much balm is even left," Will whispers against his lips when Mike pulls away just enough for them to breathe.

"There's plenty," Mike purrs, dragging his tongue across Will's lips. It's not the slow, concentrated drag he normally utilizes, this one is quick and teasing.

Will shudders. "Mike."

Mike grins. "What?" He slides his right hand down to it's previous position on the side of Will's neck.

"You're supposed to guess the chapstick."

"Well, I'm trying, aren't I?" He kisses Will again, long and firm before licking his own lips with a disappointed hum. "It's not my fault you decided to make it difficult for me."

"Yeah well, that's because I don't want to lose." Will retorts, breathless as he surrenders himself to whatever Mike decides to do next.

"Well that's a bummer." Mike takes Will's upper lip between his teeth, eliciting a gasp from the boy. "Because I want to win." He soothes Will's lip with his tongue before diving back in for another kiss.

Will lets him. Every cell in his body is tuned in to the feeling of Mike's lips on his. The way they softly move along his own, the way his tongue darts out every so often and licks at the skin. Will's hands curl impossibly tighter into Mike's shirt, and he's pretty sure his knuckles have turned white—he's also sure that there's no balm left anymore.

When Mike pulls back to breathe, Will runs his own tongue across his bottom lip, tasting nothing but the faint, salty taste of spit Mike undoubtedly left behind. Mike's kissed all the fucking chapstick from his lips.

Will's eyes flutter open to glance at the other boy's face, mere inches away from his own. When Mike seems to notice this, his eyes snap up to Will's. Neither of them say a word, the only sounds filling the room is that of their combined heavy breathing.

It's like they've both come to the same conclusion, but neither of them is brave enough to voice it.

This isn't about the game at all.

Will opens his mouth, then closes it. He doesn't know what's happening, and he feels so confused that he honestly might cry. It seems almost undeniable that the way Mike just kissed him wasn't something you did just to win a game. But Will didn't know, he couldn't know for sure what this meant to Mike.

It was foolish to think, even for just a second, that it meant the same thing as it did to him. Will can't let himself believe that, he can't risk putting his heart on the line; he's not sure he'd survive it.

"Mike," he rasps out.

"Yeah?" Mike whispers it so incredibly softly, and Will wants to cry.

"Did you guess the flavor?" he asks. It should seem like a perfectly reasonable question, it's the whole point of why they're here, but uttering the words still feels like he's tearing something apart. "Did you win the game?"

Mike laughs, almost disbelievingly. "Will," he whispers against his lips.

"Hmm?"

Mike looks up at him before glancing down to his lips. "Can you shut up about this stupid fucking game for just a second?"

"I thought you wanted to win," Will whispers, his arguments feeling weaker by the second, especially as Mike inches closer again.

"I already have." He kisses Will again. It's so soft and it lasts for just a second before he pulls back, eyes searching Will's.

"Mike." Will's hands twitch against his shoulders, his voice shaky. He has to blink to keep the tears from clouding his vision.

"Hey…" Mike strokes his thumb across Will's cheek. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you, you're okay, we don't have to—"

Will uses his grip on Mike's shirt to yank him forward and crashes his lips onto Mike's. He seems surprised at Will's sudden action, but he whines against Will's lips, using the hand that was still on the side of his neck to pull him closer.

Will can't take it anymore, he releases his grip on Mike's shirt in favor of curling his arms around his shoulders. The frantic energy of the sudden collision dies down, leaving Will to focus on the sensation of kissing Mike and he realizes he doesn't really know what he's doing; he's never kissed anyone before.

Mike seems to notice, taking the lead as his lips move against Will's with a silent confidence. Will mimics his movements as best he can, and it turns out not to be that difficult. He allows himself to feel, to trust Mike completely as he surrenders fully, giving him every part of himself and praying it won't destroy him.

Will curls a hand into the hair at the back of Mike's head, tugging gently on the strands, causing Mike to gasp against his lips. Will smiles and does it again.

For a second, Will forgets why he was worried or what he was upset about. The entire universe narrows down to this. Mike and Will and their mouths, the hand on Will's neck, the way Mike's soft curls feel when he buries his hand deeper into his hair. Will could stay here for eternity and he'd be the happiest man on earth.

Mike parts his lips, taking Will's bottom one between his own and sucking it gently before licking at the seam. It's different this time, as he's not focused on tasting whatever balm Will's applied, but rather waiting for permission to coax apart his lips.

Will grants it, parting them, enough for Mike's tongue to slip into his mouth. The hand on his neck slides up to his face again, and Mike cups it carefully, like it's one of the most precious things he's ever held, as he uses his tongue to explore Will's mouth.

He brushes his tongue against Will's before darting back, licking at his upper lip. Will curls his arms tighter around Mike's shoulders, pulling him in as he brushes their tongues together again.

Will has tasted a lot of chapstick flavors today— from cotton candy to watermelon to grapefruit, and now there was one thing he was certain of.

Nothing would ever taste as good on his lips as Mike does.

They pull back to catch their breath for just a second before meeting each other halfway. If someone were to put a gun to Will's head and ask him how long they'd spent kissing one another, they'd have to pull the trigger. However long it is, it feels like eternity while simultaneously not being long enough.

When Will feels lightheaded and like he might pass out, he pulls back, panting as he greedily inhales the oxygen in the room. His gaze wanders down to Mike's lips. They're swollen and red and Will's pretty sure his own look the same.

Neither of them speak and Will utilizes the quiet to attempt to organize his mind, tugging at the knotted thoughts in an attempt to untangle them one by one. He's still so confused. He tries to fit the piece of who he knows Mike to be into the puzzle of his actions these past few hours and it simply doesn't fit.

There is one explanation his brain keeps presenting him with, no matter how many times Will has shut the door in its face. The thought of actually considering that Mike might be interested in Will the same way he is sends him running for the hills.

It's a defense mechanism, a wall he's built and told himself he wasn't allowed to break down for his own protection. It was easy never to allow himself to consider it when Mike hadn't given him any reason to.

Sure, maybe there were signs back when Will still lived with the Wheelers or even these past few months, but those were easy to brush under the rug. Mike cares for him, Mike is his best friend. If he goes above and beyond for Will, that doesn't necessarily means he's in love with him.

But this, this proved more difficult to explain. You don't spend god knows how long kissing your best friend simply because you care for them. Especially if they're someone you're not at least a bit attracted to.

Will loves Max to pieces, but he wouldn't make out with her. Because he doesn't like her like that, and because she's a girl.

Will is a boy.

Will is a boy and Mike kissed him.

Will inhales deeply and when he feels like his lungs have caught up to his previous lack of oxygen, he speaks: "Hey, Mike?"

Mike takes a deep shaky breath, like he's bracing himself for whatever is to come. "Hey."

"Earlier…" Will gestures between them like that helps to explain anything. "When you said that you'd already won, what did you mean by that?"

Mike flushes, like just now remembering the words himself, and he runs a hand through his hair.

"It wasn't about the chapstick, was it?" Will adds when Mike doesn't answer right away.

"No, Will. It wasn't about the chapstick."

"Then-"

"It was about you," he blurts. "It was-" Mike laughs softly, shaking his head. "It was about getting to kiss you."

"Kissing me was winning?" Will feels a matching flush creep up his neck.

"Yeah." Mike grins. "It's the best thing I've ever won."

"I don't understand."

"I think you do," Mike whispers. "You aren't Will the Wise for nothing."

"I- I need you to say it." Will pleads, his heart thumping loudly in his chest, this particular anticipation beating any rollercoaster or kiss.

Mike reaches out, taking one of Will's hands into his own. Will can feel the tremble running through Mike's hand. "I love you, Will."

Will thinks his heart stops beating for a moment.

"I- I think I've loved you for a long time, I was just… too much of an idiot to realize." Mike shakes his head disbelievingly, his eyes glued to where he's running his thumb over the back of Will's hand. "I only really realized it recently. With Vecna gone, and you know, me and El had broken up even before that, everything was just so…quiet. And then there was you."

Mike smiles fondly. "I just couldn't help but start noticing stuff about you. It's not like it was stuff I hadn't noticed before but it was just… different now."

Will manages to find his voice. "Like what?"

"Like the way you laugh. I couldn't stop thinking about how it's the prettiest sound in the world and I started making stupid, dumb jokes just so I could hear it again. The way you're so kind, and you always give people a second chance even when everyone believes they don't deserve it."

"Mike..."

"There's also this little thing you do, when you're confused about something. You tilt your head to the side and you have this…puzzled look in your eyes, and it just makes me want to grab you and never let go."

"Mike." Will doesn't know how much more of this he can take.

"And you're so goddamn pretty, Will. I just- I don't understand how one person can be so- so beautiful. It really isn't fair."

"Mike!" Will squeezes his hand. "I- I think I get it."

"Right. Sorry." Mike uses his free hand to run it through his hair.

Will attempts to process everything Mike just confessed, when a potential realization settles into his mind. "…Is that why you asked me to play this game with you?"

Mike smiles sheepishly. "Maybe…"

"I- I thought you wanted to- to beat Lucas and Max's score!"

"I mean, I did. It's a nice bonus to get to gloat to Max, but… the thought of getting to play a game where I might get to kiss you was definitely the main thing on my mind."

Will processes this. Mike keeps talking.

"I never wanted to pressure you into doing anything and at some point I was so worried I did, but then you kissed me back… I just- when Max and Lucas were talking about this game, I saw it as an opportunity and I took it. I meant it when I said I wouldn't do this with anyone but you, Will. Because I don't want to. I don't want to do stupid shit like this with anyone else. I don't want to touch or kiss anyone else."

Mike takes a deep breath. "I think it's always been you, Will."

Jesus Christ.

Will doesn't stop the tears from clouding his vision this time, listening intently, absorbing Mike's every word.

"I don't expect you to feel the same way. But I needed you to know."

Will chuckles wetly. "Mike."

Mike's eyes meet his again.

"Of course I love you, you absolute idiot."

"Yeah?" Mike's eyes are wide, like his entire life hinges on Will comfirming this fact.

Will feels like his heart might burst, and he lunges forward, tackling Mike with a kiss.

The impact causes both of them to topple over but neither seem to care. Mike's hands settle on Will's waist, pulling him in. After just a moment, Will pulls away from the kiss, grinning and breathless.

"Yeah."

⁠♡

"Do you want the left or the right side?" Mike asks the question as soon as Will steps into his room, fresh out of the shower.

"Uhm…" Will smiles, tossing the towel he was using to dry his hair into Mike's laundry basket. "I don't mind either, I normally sleep on the right."

"Great!" Mike settles onto the left side of his bed, making space for Will on the right. "I'll take the left."

"Unless you want it?" Will chuckles. "Or do you still spread out like a starfish in the middle?"

Mike huffs as Will lies down next to him. "Maybe, but for you I'll make an exception."

"How romantic."

Mike grins at Will, wide and unguarded. And Will thinks he can see it now, that look in his eyes, one of utter adoration.

The revelation of Mike's true feelings for him had happened just a couple hours ago, and Will still couldn't believe it. He spent so long telling himself Mike was straight, that he'd never see him in that way. He'd spent the years before that hoping, but at a certain point he just… had to stop.

To think that all this time, Mike felt the same way without even realizing it… the concept felt like one from outer space, an unbelievable phenomenon. Maybe his brain had decided to bring it back from its trip.

The disbelief didn't stem from putting Mike on a pedestal or believing he was way out of Will's league, but rather from Will's careful conditioning of what he believed to be the truth.

But the actual truth was staring him in the eyes. It was inching closer and wrapping a hand around his waist.

"Will?"

"Mike."

"Can I kiss you again?"

Will doesn't answer him. Instead he leans in, cupping Mike's cheek and kissing him softly. He relishes in the feeling of knowing Mike is kissing him because he wants to.

Will pulls away from him after just a moment, but he doesn't go far. "I can't believe your idea of making a move on me was asking me to play a kissing game."

Mike scoffs. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know…" Will pecks him softly. "Maybe ask me out? Like a normal person."

"Screw normal. I think this is a pretty epic way to confess to someone."

Will hums, leaning in for another kiss when…

"I'm still gonna get you back for cheating a second time though."

Will halts his movements, pulling back just enough to look at Mike. "What?"

"The cola flavor?" Mike raises his eyebrows.

"How did you-"

"You asked me to get you a glass of water in the middle of the game. And when I came back, the soda pack had mysteriously disappeared." Mike points out, reaching to tap his finger against Will's bottom lip. "Besides, cola has a very distinct taste."

"You knew?!"

"I realized, like, halfway through kissing you."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Mike shoots him a look like it should be obvious. "Uhhh, maybe because I was kissing you?"

Will laughs, dropping himself back onto the pillow. "Oh my god, Mike."

It's quiet as Will's laughter dies down, he turns his head on the pillow to look at Mike. "Why did you? Kiss me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… you kissed me in the third round, and after that you just… stopped. Until the last one." Will points out.

Mike shrugs, sitting back against the headboard. "The whole kissing thing wasn't really as effective as, you know… licking, and also I just-" He laughs. "I didn't trust myself not to completely lose it again." He pokes Will's side who squirms away with a laugh. "You have that effect on me, you know?"

Will hums.

"And whenever it was your turn to guess, you didn't really kiss me like that, so I guess I was… just afraid that I was crossing your boundaries or something."

"I promised I would tell you if you did, remember?" Will points out.

"Yeah, I know." Mike nods, picking at a loose thread on his comforter. "And I trusted you on that, but I was still worried. I don't know… it was the last round, and I didn't want the game to end without having kissed you again. So I did."

Will's cheeks flush, like he still can't believe this is all happening. "Okay, one more question."

"You can ask as many questions as you want."

"Why did you buy so many chapsticks?!"

Mike shrugs. "I wanted to make sure I had all my bases covered. I didn't know how long we'd be playing for."

Will shakes his head. "That must've cost a fortune."

"I used my dad's AmEx card. It's no big deal."

Will laughs. "Well it paid off."

Mike smiles. "Yeah, it did."

The two boys settle beneath the comforter, shifting onto their sides to face one another.

"Hi." Mike whispers.

Will smiles, his nose scrunching. "Hi."

Mike sighs dramatically.

"What?"

"You're too cute, it just isn't fair."

"Mike, come on." Will reaches out to poke Mike's cheek but the boy catches his finger.

"No, I'm serious. I'm going to die of cuteness aggression."

"Well, don't die," Will murmurs, shifting closer. "You haven't taken me out on a date yet."

"Shit. You're right." Mike reaches out to brush some strands of hair away from Will's eyes. "We can't have that."

Mike clears his throat, raising his chin as if preparing himself for an important statement. "Will, my dearest sorcerer, will you let me take you out on a date? Please?"

"Well, Sir Mike the Brave, since you succeeded so excellently in swiping me off my feet, I'm inclined to agree."

Mike leans in, pressing a sweet kiss to Will's lips. "It's a date."

Will grins, pulling back to gaze at the boy in front of him. And for the first time, with no fear, he allows himself to be honest.

He, Will Byers, is hopelessly and ridiculously in love with Mike Wheeler.

And Mike Wheeler loves him back.

⁠♡⁠♡⁠♡

7 months later…

The sun is bright on this spring afternoon, shining down on anyone who's chosen today to take a stroll in downtown Hawkins.

Will is one of those people. He shuts his eyes for a moment, simply enjoying the blessings today has to offer. The warmth on his skin, the breeze making it just bearable and the feel of his boyfriend's hand intertwined with his own, hidden from plain sight.

Weirdly enough, the streets are emptier than Will anticipated. Although he didn't mind, he enjoys the privacy and feelings of security it brought him when walking with Mike in public.

Just as he's about to open his eyes and turn to talk to said boyfriend, he feels a slight tug on his hand, halting him to a stop.

He looks to find Mike no longer next to him. He's a few steps back, staring at what Will guesses is some kind of display in the shop's window. He walks backwards, squeezing Mike's hand.

"What's up?"

Mike nods his chin toward the display. "You see that?"

Will follows Mike's line of sight to the shop window. The display is filled with small plastic packages and a large sign above it.

NEW CHAPSTICK FLAVORS. NOW ON SALE!

Will turns back to Mike with a knowing smile and Mike leans in to whisper in his ear. "Are you up for a challenge?"

"Always."

Will Byers will never be one to back down from a challenge. Not when it's earned him the love of his life.