Work Text:
Mike’s in a good mood. He's had a quiet day, spending most of it meeting with his editor to go over a few changes for his upcoming book. The meeting goes surprisingly well, too. They agree on almost everything, and by the time he leaves the publisher's office, he's feeling lighter than he has in weeks.
When he gets home, he finds Will in the kitchen, setting the pizza and bottle of wine he'd picked up on his way home onto the table.
They finish dinner without ever leaving the table in a hurry. The conversation lingers long after the last slice of pizza is gone, drifting from Mike’s meeting with his editor to Will's day at the art studio, then to whatever else happens to cross their minds.
When they finally get around to cleaning up, the dishes somehow take twice as long as they should, thanks to Mike flicking soap bubbles—and, at one point, a few drops of water—at Will, who retaliates by threatening to hit him on the head with the plate he was holding.
By the time the dishwasher is running and the kitchen is clean again, the apartment settles into the familiar rhythm of another ordinary evening.
Now Mike is standing in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, while Will is already tucked into bed, the television playing quietly in the background.
“Mike!” Will calls from the bedroom.
With a mouthful of toothpaste, Mike can't manage much more than a muffled, “Mhm?”
“Jonathan’s stopping by tomorrow around noon. I told him you'd be home. Is that okay?”
Mike doesn't answer right away. He finishes brushing his teeth, spits the toothpaste into the sink, rinses his mouth, and gives the mirror one last absentminded glance before making his way back to the bedroom.
“Jonathan knows you'll be at work by then, right?” Mike asks as he leans against the bedroom doorway, a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Surely he's not stopping by just to admire my handsome face.”
Will tears his eyes away from the television long enough to roll his eyes at his husband.
“He's literally your brother-in-law,” he says. “Twice over, if you think about it. You could be a little nicer.”
Mike lets out a quiet laugh and pushes himself away from the doorframe, making his way around to his side of the bed.
“I'm not being rude,” he says as he climbs in beside Will. “I'm just wondering why he'd want to come over at noon on a Wednesday.”
Will reaches for the remote and pauses the episode. “He left a couple of his camera lenses here when he came over last week. He's just picking them up.”
“Fine, fine.” Mike lifts both hands in surrender. “Yes, sweetheart. I'll be home tomorrow. I'll hand your brother his camera lenses.”
The exaggerated defeat earns a quiet laugh from Will. “Thank you.”
“See?” Mike says as he climbs the rest of the way into bed. “I can be nice.”
Will smiles, reaches over, and lightly catches the front of Mike’s T-shirt between his fingers, tugging him closer. “I know you can.”
There's something so matter-of-fact about the way he says it that it makes Mike smile. He closes the remaining distance between them.
The kiss is slow, and entirely unhurried, the kind that comes after years of knowing each other's rhythms by heart. Mike rests one hand against Will's cheek while the other finds its usual place around his waist. Neither of them seems particularly interested in counting how long it lasts, only pulling away once they're both smiling a little too much to keep going.
Mike lingers close for another second before finally glancing toward the television. “...You're watching this horse show again?”
“Um, excuse you?” Will says, looking genuinely offended. “That horse's name is BoJack Horseman. And yes, I'm watching his show.”
Mike lets out a laugh as he settles against the headboard. “I just don't get why this is your bedtime show. Isn't it kind of... depressing?”
Will shrugs. “It's hilarious.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m not.”
“Half the clips you've shown me are just that horse making terrible decisions and ruining his own life.”
“And somehow it's still one of the funniest shows I've ever watched.”
Mike looks at the television for a moment before turning back to his husband with a smile. “You know what? I should just stop questioning your taste.”
A smile tugs at Will's lips. “You probably should. Now go read your bedtime story, old man.”
Mike snorts, reaching for the novel on his nightstand. “We're the same age.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Will makes a dismissive hand gesture.
Shaking his head, Mike reaches over to the nightstand and picks up his book. He slides his glasses back onto his nose, settling comfortably against the headboard as the television continues to play in the background.
A minute or two passes in companionable silence. Will watches the episode absentmindedly for a while before glancing away from the screen toward Mike. “What're you reading, anyway?”
Mike turns the cover just enough for him to see.
“Project Hail Mary.”
Will hums. “I thought you said you were going to reread The Lord of the Rings.”
“Fuck, I forgot about that...” Mike mutters, letting his head fall back against the headboard for a moment as he stares up at the ceiling, as if the reminder might magically bring his reading plans back to him.
Will can't help but smile at the scene in front of him.
“Well, I'll get around to rereading them eventually,” Mike says, looking back at his husband. “Anyway, Dustin kept going on about how accurate the science in this one is, so naturally I got curious.”
“Baby, you don't have to explain your reading schedule to me.” Will smiles, reaching over to absentmindedly smooth a hand through Mike’s hair. “Read whatever the hell you want.”
He smiles to himself before turning his attention back to the television. Mike does the same with his book, occasionally flipping a page while the voices from the TV drift quietly through the room. Neither of them feels the need to fill the silence. After all these years, they've grown used to evenings like this, where simply being in the same room is enough.
A few minutes later, Mike lowers the book onto his lap. “If the sun was going to fade away in, like... ten years,” he says, still staring at the ceiling, “how would you want to spend that time?”
Will reaches for the remote and turns the volume down until the television is barely audible. He doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he shifts onto his side, looking at Mike as though he's trying to picture the question. “I guess I'd spend it with my hot husband.”
Mike laughs quietly. “That's your first thought?”
“It wasn't my first thought.” Will smiles. “It was my final answer.”
Mike closes the book completely this time.
Will's expression softens. “I don't think I'd suddenly start skydiving or backpacking across Europe or anything like that. I'd still want to teach. I'd still want to come home at the end of the day and tell you about my students.” He shrugs lightly. “I'd still want this.” He glances around the room.
“Maybe we'd travel a little more. Stop putting things off until next summer. But if you asked me what I'd miss the most...” He looks back at Mike. “It'd be nights that we spend like this.”
Mike is quiet for a moment, his smile lingering as he looks at Will. “...That was a really good answer.”
Will lets out a small laugh. “What? You weren't expecting me to have one?”
“I don't know.” Mike grins. “I guess I thought you'd say something like, 'I'd eat tubes of ice cream every day until the sun gave up.’”
“I can do both.” Will grinned.
"I'm sure you can."
They smile at each other for a second before Will’s expression softens again. "What about you?"
Mike raises an eyebrow. "What about me?"
"You asked the question." Will smiles. "How would you spend those ten years?"
Mike hums thoughtfully. "I'd probably finish the book I'm working on."
"Only one?"
"I know myself. I'd convince myself I had enough time to write another. But by the end, I’d have only one complete book.”
Will chuckles. “Sounds about right.”
"I'd travel a little more." Mike looks down at the book in his lap before glancing back up. "See places I've always said we'd visit someday. Eat good food. Read way too many books."
He smiles to himself. "And I'd spend as much of it as I could with my husband."
Will's eyebrows lift. "Oh, now you're stealing my answer."
"What? It was a good enough answer to steal.”
"I'll allow it."
Mike reaches over and slips his hand around the back of Will's neck. "I figured you would."
Will closes the small distance between them with a smile.
The kiss is slower than the previous one. Mike’s hand stays at the back of Will's neck, his thumb brushing lightly through the hair at the nape, while Will's fingers settle against his side beneath the hem of his T-shirt.
When they finally pull away, they're still close enough that their foreheads nearly touch.
Will smiles first. "I still think I'm the more romantic one."
Mike lets out a quiet laugh. "Sure, you've got a strong case."
A comfortable silence settles over the room again. The television has long since become background noise, neither of them paying it much attention anymore.
A yawn catches Will by surprise. He tries to hide it behind the back of his hand but Mike notices anyway.
"There he is." he says.
Will sighs. "Can you not?”
"I was starting to wonder where the old man went."
"We're the same age. You said it yourself!”
"I know," Mike says, grinning. "But you're the one who's already falling asleep, not me!”
Will gives him one last unimpressed look before leaning over to switch off the television. "Gonna go brush my teeth before you get any worse."
"Suit yourself, Will the Wise.” Mike winks at his husband.
Still smiling, Will climbs out of bed and disappears into the bathroom. A second later, the light clicks on, followed by the sound of running water.
Mike picks his book back up, though he doesn't read a single word while he waits for Will to come back.
A minute or so later, the bathroom light clicks off. Will wanders back into the bedroom, rubbing a towel through his hair as he goes. He pauses by the dresser to change into an old T-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants before tossing the towel over the back of a chair.
Mike looks up from his book just long enough to watch him move around the room.
"What?" Will asks, catching him looking.
Mike smiles to himself and shakes his head.
"Nothing. I was just thinking."
"Thinking, huh? Sounds dangerous."
"So I've been told."
Will chuckles quietly as he slips back beneath the covers. "You planning on reading much longer?"
Mike glances down at the page he'd been pretending to read for the past several minutes. "...Probably not."
"Cool." Will switches off the lights, leaving only the warm glow of Mike’s reading lamp between them.
Mike closes his book, carefully tucking the bookmark between the pages before setting it on the nightstand. He reaches over to switch off his lamp, and the room is left with nothing but the faint glow of the city filtering through the curtains.
Almost without thinking, Will scoots closer until he's tucked comfortably against Mike’s side. Mike’s arm finds its way around him just as naturally, resting loosely across his waist. They settle into the position with the ease of two people who have fallen asleep like this more nights than they could ever count.
After a while, Mike lets out a quiet sigh. "You know you're invading my personal space, right?”
A smile spreads across Will's face, hidden somewhere against his husband’s shoulder. “And yet you're not doing a thing to stop me."
"I've learned it's a losing battle."
"It is.”
Mike’s arm tightens around Will almost absentmindedly, pulling him just a little closer. "Goodnight, my cleric."
Will lets out the tiniest groan. "Ew. So cringe..."
Mike can't help smiling.
A moment passes before Will speaks again, his voice softer this time. “...Sleep well, paladin."
“I will.” Mike murmurs softly.
Neither of them says anything else after that.
Eventually, their breathing slows into the same steady rhythm, and another ordinary day comes to an end.