Archive of Our Own

Will swore if he knew it was starting, he’d have stopped it. But he didn’t, actually, it just began, and he was six feet under it before he’d even realized what was happening. 

In fact, Jane noticed it first. 

“You and Mike started dating?” She asked. She’d been over at their dorm for the weekend, and Will was more than happy to see her. Ever since junior year started (and Jane’s freshman year began—she was a little behind on credits) they’d had no time to really hang out, which was stupid because they were finally in the same town, on the same campus. The moment she’d asked that Will’s head snapped up, face going hot as a July day. 

“No,” he hissed, eyes darting to the door. Mike still hadn’t returned from the dining hall, where he’d went to get them all something to snack on while they watched a movie. Still, holy hell. Imagine if he’d heard her. Will pictured Mike’s mouth twisting up in disgust, a note of horror running through him. “Jane, why would you say that?”

She blinked at him, innocent. It made him think of his own face in the mirror. They still introduced themselves as twins, and nobody ever questioned them on it. Especially now that Will had lost the bowl cut and let his hair grow out the tiniest bit, Jane cutting hers short to match. “What did I say?”

Will put his head in his hands. It wasn’t her fault, though Will was well aware she played up the “I was raised in a lab, how would I know?” thing to her advantage. “Jane. That’s weird to say because...He’d think it’s weird. You know it’s weird. He isn’t like me.”

“Us,” Jane corrected.

“Us,” Will said. He grabbed her hand. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being like us.”

Still felt a little weird to be the one saying these things, comforting someone like this. But Jane had come out the year prior and still felt unsure in her own skin, especially because she’d always felt like an outsider. Hilariously, she said it explained why she thought Mike was such a terrible kisser. Mike had squawked in offense at the accusation. 

“Of course,” Jane agreed, squeezing his hand. “So, why is my question wrong?”

“Because,” Will said emphatically, feeling himself turn red again. A curse from ever since he was little. He and Jonathan both turned red as cherries when they got even slightly embarrassed. “We aren’t.”

“He holds the door for you,” Jane said. Will snorted. 

“If that was enough to be dating someone, I’d be going out with half of our school by now.”

“He pays for all your stuff.”

“I’m not working right now!” Will explained, desperate. “He pays for your stuff, too.”

“Not that,” Jane said, and pointed at Will’s desk full of cute trinkets and pens and sketchbooks that Mike had been piling on him since his first paycheck. Will turned redder and shrunk back from Jane, like this could make him disappear. 

“Fine. But that doesn’t really mean anything. He’ll probably start buying you cute things too, now that you’re here.”

Jane leveled him with a look, one that made him regret falling for her “raised in a lab” schtick before. “Sure. Why do you two cuddle, then?”

Will hid his face in his hands. His skin was glowing hot to the touch. “You and I cuddle.”

“He’s handsy,” Jane said. “I don’t touch you like that. It’d be weird.”

“Okay!” Will cut her off, embarrassed beyond belief. “Sure. Fine. Jesus. I don’t know! It’s not like that, though.”

The thing was, he had sort of noticed it too. But he’d thought it was just the world sliding back to place, righting itself as Mike began acting like he did back when they were kids, back when he was Mike’s favorite. This was how things used to be. This was how Will liked it, anyways—Mike’s undivided attention. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Will whispered. He thought, well, maybe he didn’t notice anything because he didn’t want to. 

“He’s sweet on you, though,” Jane said. She was always using sixties’ phrases she’d picked up from Joyce and Hopper. Clearly, she spent too much time with them. 

Still, it’s probably the perfect choice of words. Sweet on you. Was it possible to be non-romantically sweet on someone? If so, then Mike really was sweet on him. 

“Let’s stop talking now,” Will said, eyes darting to the door. Almost like magic, the door burst open to reveal Mike, long arms full of food.

Mike looked between the two of them, especially at Will, and quirked a brow. “What’re you two talking about?”

“Nothing,” Will said quickly, just as Jane said, “The boy Will likes.”

“I–” Will protested, turning red as a tomato. But Jane just gave him a sly, sidelong look. 

“His name’s Carlton,” Jane said. “Do you know him? He’s in Will’s art history lecture.”

Carlton was a real guy, and really was in Will’s art history lecture. Jane knew about him because Will had mentioned him as the only friend he’d made in the entire lecture. He certainly did not like Carlton, even if Carlton was easy on the eyes and wore an earring on his right ear, which meant…well, which usually would mean that he was like Will. But Will was a little preoccupied, and besides the earring wasn’t really enough of an indicator nowadays, and it’s not like there were pride rallies going on on campus or anything—this could be unsafe for him. 

No, he did not like Carlton. He relayed as much to the room, but Mike’s expression had already turned stormy. 

“Isn’t he the one who’s in a frat?” Mike asked, wrinkling his nose. “Will, I can’t believe you’d stoop so low.”

“I really don’t like him!” Will cried, shoving Jane away. “She’s being annoying!”

He pokes Jane in the side in the way that makes her yelp and jump away. “I thought friends didn’t lie!” He complains, and she giggles. 

“You’ve got to get over that, Will. We’re old now.”

Mike ignored them, putting food on both their laps. Will grabbed the remote and unpaused the VHS in the T.V. they’d found on the ground outside and smuggled into their dorm. They kept it on Mike’s dresser, set at a perfect angle to be viewed from Will’s bed. Usually the two of them pretended to watch movies and cuddled instead. Will knew for a fact he fell asleep at around the fifteen minute mark near every time. 

Mike sat in between Will and Jane, without a question. Of course he’d sit next to Will. Jane casted him a judgemental look that Will staunchly ignored. 

“Not Dirty Dancing again,” Mike groaned, his head thunking against the wall. “Will, please, pick anything else. I beg you.”

“It’s Jane’s favorite!”

“It’s his favorite too,” Mike said, turning to Jane. Jane giggled. “He makes me watch it like every night, and then falls asleep before Pat Swayze even takes off his shirt!”

Will shrugged. “You’re welcome. I’m giving the two of you alone time.”

Mike poked Will with his fork, and then leaned back again, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “No, thanks. He’s not really my type.”

“Nobody is too straight for Pat Swayze.”

“It’s not the man thing, I just like ‘em prettier.” 

“SSHHHH!” Jane said, and leaned in as if the T.V. was a luring siren. “It’s the best part.”

“It just started!” Mike protested, and Jane threw a kernel of popcorn at him. 

“Every part is the best part,” she whispered, and Will stifled a laugh. 

Mike didn’t even move his arm to wipe the popcorn kernel off himself. He just sat there, holding Will. Maybe it was weird. Maybe Jane was right. But Mike wasn’t gay. Will would know. Maybe it was just some kind of weird way for him to cope with not having a girlfriend. Or maybe it didn’t mean anything at all. I want to pretend that it doesn’t mean anything at all, Will thinks, absentmindedly eating the popcorn off of Mike’s shirt. Because then it’ll hurt less when it turns out to be true. 

“You gonna fall asleep?” Mike whispered, ducking his head down so Will felt his breath on his ear.

“No,” Will said stubbornly. 

He was out like a light in less than twenty minutes.

He woke up to a dark room, movie long off and Jane long gone. His food was off his lap and he was curled up to Mike, who was hot like a campfire, as always. He smelled like his shampoo and laundry detergent, and kind of like sweat. Will felt like a total weirdo for taking a deep breath, but it didn’t stop him from doing it. 

“Jane gone?” he asked, his voice croaky. Mike laughed, the sound reverberating through the both of them.

“That she is,” Mike said, petting Will’s hair. “Told ya you’d fall asleep.”

Will made a sound of protest, hiding his face. “Mmm.”

Mike swallowed, the way he always did before he was gonna say something hard for him. “That guy she mentioned, Carlton. You don’t really like him, do you?”

Will laughed sleepily. “No. He’s just my friend.”

“But if he asked you out…”

“I can’t have a boyfriend right now,” Will mumbled, still half asleep. “Between my classes and you, where would I find the time?”

Mike laughed. “I guess so.”

Will hid his face in Mike’s shirt. “Shut up now.”

Mike snorted, kissing his head. Will fell back into blissful, dreamless sleep.

After Will noticed it the first time, he couldn't stop noticing it. And Will was a perceptive guy. He noticed that Mike really did hold every door for him, and liked to jog in front of the hood of the car to get his car door, too. He liked to offer his hand whenever Will was getting down from anything, or if they were walking on slippery ground. He liked to bring Will flowers he picked in the quad. He liked to always have an arm around him, a hand at the small of his back, a goodbye kiss brushed to his temple. 

It was kind of driving Will crazy, now that he’d realized it. Mike used to act this way (save the kisses) back when they were kids. He’d always spoken to Will in a sweet, soft voice and made sure Will felt included, and special. But now they were adults. Now they had the history of Mike being an asshole to him as a teenager. It wasn’t supposed to be like that anymore.

Will had to consult the smartest person he knew. Unfortunately, the price of such sage wisdom was being a testing dummy for her make-up trials. 

Max powdered his face with a big brush, a shit-eating grin on her face that Will only caught every other puff, as he closed his eyes to avoid being permanently blinded. “Will. My dearest angel. Isn’t the answer obvious?”

“If the answer was obvious, do you think I’d have you in my dorm, doing my makeup right now? We could be doing something fun,” Will complained, shutting his mouth tight as Max powdered him again. Really there was no need for this much powder. It seemed like it was purposefully done to get him to shut his trap.

“He likes you,” Max whispered, and though it should’ve felt juvenile, or like they’d burst into giggles in the middle of a sleepover, Max had a way of making these things sound serious. His heart thumped in his chest. 

“He doesn’t,” Will said. Max rolled her eyes and got to applying the blush. “No, I’m serious. Max, do you know how bad of an idea it is for me to hope about this? I just got to the point where I don’t want to cry every time I look at him, and I don’t think about him every waking moment anymore. I can’t go back to how it was.”

“It won’t be how it was before,” Max insisted, making him close his eyes so she could apply eyeliner. “Because before, he wouldn’t kiss you goodnight. I mean, do you hear yourself? If we told Lucas about this—”

“No!” Will startled, panic fluttering in his throat. Max sucked her teeth. 

“You almost made me ruin your eyeliner!” 

“Lucas can’t know,” Will said, face growing warm. “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea about Mike.”

Max rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure it’s the right idea. But I know, I know. I won’t say a word.”

Will sighed. “Sorry. He doesn’t kiss me goodnight, not properly at least. The head doesn’t count. I’d kiss you on the head. I’d kiss Lucas on the head if I knew you wouldn’t kill me.”

“And I would,” Max said, laughing. She pulled out her mascara and forced him to close his eyes again. “Lucas Sinclair is a catch. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Will snorted. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say he knows you like him.”

“Nah,” Max said, and then brushed his eyelids with something soft and ticklish. “Okay, open.”

Will opened his eyes, looking at her. “Do I look nice?”

Max smiled. “You’re pretty, Byers. You’ve got a great face.”

Will snorted again, harder this time. “Thanks, sure.”

Will got up to look at himself in the small handheld mirror. He had glittery blue eyeshadow on. He actually liked the way he looked all dolled up. If it weren’t a literal safety risk, he would probably wear it outside. 

“He likes you,” Max said, packing up her stuff. “Will. You’re being dense because you’re scared.”

Will watched his expression twist in the handheld mirror. “I am scared, yeah. Really scared.”

The keys in the door interrupted their conversation. 

Mike groaned the moment he spotted Max. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have your own dorm? And a boyfriend you can bother? Maybe homework you could be doing? Stop me when I get it right.”

Max flipped him the bird, ignoring him in favor of packing up her supplies. Mike came closer anyways, ducking to give Will a kiss on the forehead. 

“Looks pretty, doll.” 

Will’s face went hot. “Thanks,” he mumbled, purposefully avoiding Max’s eye. 

“All thanks to my handiwork,” Max teased, receiving a nudge. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist Wheeler, I’m leaving. Think about what I said, Will.” 

Will rolled his eyes and waved her off. So much for her advice, anyways. “Whatever.”

“Whatever?!” Max parroted, mock offended. “Wheeler, you’re rubbing off on him.” She thought about her choice of phrasing and wrinkled her nose. “Okay, goodbye!”

Will watched her go, turning red. Mike flopped onto the bed next to him. 

“What’d she say?” Mike said. 

“Um, rubbing off like–”

“No, I know,” Mike laughed. “I meant what did she tell you to think about?”

“Oh.” Will turned pink. “We were talking about kissing.”

“Kissing?” Mike said. Will nodded, mentally scolding himself. Of all stupid things. “I think Lucas may get a little mad if he hears you’re thinking of kissing Max.”

“Ha ha,” Will snarked. “We were talking about…” Will grappled for something. They were talking about kissing, yeah. But. Hm. Will scrambled for an acceptable lie.

 “About how I’ve never kissed anyone before.” There. Technically not a lie, even if it wasn’t what he and Max were speaking about.

“Ah,” Mike said. “I see.”

“Mhm,” Will hummed. “It’s a little embarrassing, that’s all.”

“That’s why you were so red when I walked in,” Mike teased, pinching his side. Will shoved his hand away. “It’s not embarrassing. I’m kinda relieved, to be honest. I was afraid you’d had your first kiss and hadn’t told me.”

Will snorted. “When would I? We spend every second together.”

He expected Mike to at least pretend to be offended by the jab, but Mike just looked pleased with himself. 

“Well, it’s not like it’s very hard, anyways. You’ll be good at it when you do it.” Mike averted his eyes as he spoke, his mouth twisting up. He was clearly bothered, but Will wasn’t sure by what. 

“Says you,” Will complained, pushing at Mike’s shoulder. Mike didn’t budge from his position next to him. Will’s shoulder was warm where it brushed Mike’s. “You’ve already done it a hundred times with Jane.”

“And with that one girl when I was drunk at a party.”

“Right, how could I forget about drunk party girl?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, c’mon Will. I’m offended. But seriously, you’ll be fine. You’re not actually worried about that, are you?”

Will could feel his face getting hot. “I don’t know. A little. I guess the right guy won’t care, right?”

“Right,” Mike said, and then swallowed. “But if you wanted to practice…”

Will shut his mouth so quickly his teeth made an audible click. What?! “Um…”

“Like, with me…” Mike continued, as if Will didn’t obviously already know what he meant. Will laughed nervously, trying to fill some of the unbearable silence.

“I don’t know, I mean…” Will looked to the side. “Are you sure you wanna kiss a guy?”

“If that guy is you?” Mike shrugged. Still, he didn’t look very nonchalant. He looked, well, red in the face. “Of course I don’t mind.”

“But…now?” Will squeaked, and then tried again in a normal voice. “I mean, right now?”

Mike turned on his side to face him, and Will did the same, even if the eye contact was sending his stomach on a rollercoaster ride. Mike’s eyes dropped to his mouth, and so close, Will could see his pupils expand. “Why not? Do you want to?”

Will swallowed around a mouth full of saliva. This felt like a stupid decision, like an easy answer. He knew he should laugh it off and push Mike away and fall asleep and wake up tomorrow like nothing ever happened and his best friend didn’t offer to kiss him. But logic didn’t really matter right now. Will was secretly, quietly, a very selfish person. He was good at hiding it, and he had to be. The last time he’d tried being selfish, tried to make the party listen to him instead of just walking all over him, he’d been basically slapped in the face by reality. A reality where he was actually quite small, and unimportant in the face of bigger, better things, like a new girlfriend. He wished he was some angel who never wanted a thing for himself; it would’ve made the entire thing easier to deal with. But the truth was, Will was hungry. Deeply. He was born with a cavernous need for love, one that he’d inherited from his mother, one that it felt like he would never be able to shake.

Even if that need could only be slightly sated with stolen, silly, meaningless kisses—he’d take it. He was a little ashamed to say that he’d take anything, if Mike was the one handing it to him. Even if it wasn’t love, but a moment to pretend…his stomach lurched towards Mike like the draw of a magnet.

“I want to,” he whispered, hardly recognizing the desire in his voice. Desire was something he was familiar with, but vocalizing it was staunchly not. He looked up at Mike through his lashes, and Mike released a shaking breath. They were so close that Will felt it fan across his face.

“Close your eyes,” Mike mumbled, leaning forward. Their foreheads touched, and Mike’s lips grazed the corner of his. Heart trembling like a caged animal, Will did what he was told.

Mike’s mouth was warm and soft against his, and even through his sense-numbing panic, Will felt the steady press of Mike’s hand on the side of his cheek. Will understood why so many people said kissing was intuitive, because it was—it was sort of like kissing someone anywhere else, but reciprocated. It was nice. Like a physical manifestation of both parties’ want for the other, pressed into a neat little package. 

Mike pulled back, and Will blinked. He tried to think of what to say, but before he could, Mike leaned back in and kissed him, and then kissed him again, and again and again. The rhythm was slow and sweet, like syrup, and every kiss tasted like Coke, which Mike was probably drinking at the mess hall. Really, though, Will was thinking about Mike’s hand, which was so warm against his cheek, and had slipped down to his neck, warm like a brand, and big. If he stretched his fingers, he could probably curl them around the entire front of Will’s neck. The thought made Will hot under his collar. 

Right when Will was thinking kissing was probably the best thing ever invented, Mike angled his head and kissed him more firmly, mouth parting further with each kiss. The wet of his mouth was hot and Will couldn’t help but melt into it. All his brain could come up with was his name. Mike, Mike, Mike. 

Will may not have had any experience, but he had enough grasp on the topic to know that this was a bit more involved than regular kissing. He thought about pulling back and telling Mike as much, and then Mike’s tongue slipped in his mouth and his hand cupped his waist under the hem of his shirt, and he didn’t think about anything else. Mike’s fingers twitched like they wanted to touch him more. and it made Will dizzy and hot up to the roots of his hair. He followed Mike’s lead and shyly licked into his mouth, which made Mike moan, which made Will’s stomach twist with heat. 

“Mike.” Will wrenched himself back with the strength of Zeus. “Mike.”

Mike’s hands didn’t disappear, still hot on his waist. It rubbed sweetly up his flank. “Yeah?”

“Maybe, um,” Will started, but Mike leant down and pressed a searingly chaste kiss to his lips. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. 

“You look so pretty,” Mike murmured, fingers slipping under his shirt. “The blue glitter suits you.”

Between each sentence, he pressed warm kisses to Will’s mouth. Will shifted his hips away, suddenly aware of just how much this was affecting him. But he really, really, couldn’t find it in himself to complain, not with Mike, Mike everywhere, warm, touching him like he wanted him. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop himself from leaning into it and whining as Mike’s lips found his jaw, then his neck, then down to his clavicle and kissed, kissed softly. Then open mouthed, then a slip of teeth, and Will’s fingers tightened in Mike’s hair with a whine. 

“Please,” he mumbled, and he wasn’t sure what he was pleading for. Maybe for Mike never to stop, maybe for them to keep kissing forever. 

“I know, baby,” Mike shushed him, and Will shut his eyes tight, overwhelmed with the heat that rushed through him at that. He felt like something porcelain in Mike’s hands, like he could shiver too hard and break apart. And shit, he was hard. 

He thought about telling Mike to stop, and then thought about how he’d rather chop off his own hand, and then Mike kissed his mouth again, and he literally couldn’t think, could only want, desperately, want to put his tongue in Mike’s mouth. Mike hummed into Will’s mouth and kissed him wetly again, squeezing his hip and pulling him closer, their chests aligned. Will had never felt so close to someone in his entire life. 

Mike, possessed, went back to his neck, and didn’t bother with chaste kisses this time. The sting of his teeth against Will’s clavicle woke him right up, icy panic cutting through him like a knife.

“Mike.” Will pushed him away bodily. “You can’t leave a mark.”

“Fuck,” Mike said, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. You’re right. That’d probably be…bad,” he swallowed as he said it, and the look on his face suggested it’d actually be the opposite, pupils huge. “Are you…was that okay?”

Okay? The universe has always had a funny sense of humor when it came to Will. “It was…good.”

“Good,” Mike nodded. “You’re a natural, clearly.”

A natural. Will hadn’t really been able to forget it was just practice, but a verbal confirmation just made his heart twist.

 “Thanks.” Will turned over, sighing. “Mike. I’m tired now, okay?”

Mike was quiet for a second, and then he put a hand on Will’s waist again. Then, heartbreakingly tentative, he asked, “Are you mad at me, baby?”

Will was glad he was turned around so Mike couldn’t see how his expression shuttered. This was like physical torture. Will took up the syrupy tone he knew Mike couldn’t bring himself to argue with.  “‘Course not, Mike. I’ve been sleepy all day.”

“Okay, good.” Mike cuddled up to him, not completely touching, but enough so Will could feel his warmth. “Maybe we can practice again. Until you find the right guy, at least.”

“Okay,” Will agreed, eyes still shut. “I’d like that.”

And he really would have, which was why he resolved to, right then, find the right guy, or die trying. 

The solution presented itself neat as a wrapped bow—Will went to his art history lecture, Carlton sat next to him, they talked about homework, and then Carlton asked him out. Simple as that. For a second, Will thought the invitation for studying and coffee was just normal friendship stuff (he’d never been asked out before, anyways. Who would’ve, in Hawkins? Though sometimes he’d catch Chance looking at him and he thought maybe…but that was stupid) but then Carlton’s pinky touched his own and he said “It’s a date.” and Will realized all his problems had been solved.

Except the problem of a grumpy Mike.

Carlton wanted to go out for coffee and then study in the library Friday afternoon, but Friday afternoons were usually when Mike and Will did dorm movie night. 

“I don’t get why you can’t tell me who you’re going with,” Mike grumbled, watching Will get ready. “Especially if you’re gonna abandon me like this. I’d even be down to watch Dirty Dancing. Again.”

“Mike…” Will scrunched up his nose at his reflection, changing his shirt for the third time. “I have no nice clothes.”

“Why do you even have to look nice?” Mike asked, tone laced with suspicion. He sat up and crossed his arms. “Unless this is a date.”

Will pursed his lips and sighed, putting on a blue pullover that actually looked cute on him. It had a kind of oversized look that fell really nicely. 

“It is, then.” Mike looked murderous. “With who? That guy Jane was talking about?”

Will sighed again. “Mike.”

“So, yes.”

Will messed with his hair in the mirror. He did feel a little bad—lord knows how he’d react if Mike ditched their weekly movie night to go out with some girl. Probably eat some ice cream and cry himself to sleep. Be bitchy the entire weekend as punishment.

Mike stood up from the bed and approached him, slowly. “Your hair looks fine.”

Will paused his fidgeting, looking at Mike in the mirror. He was tall enough to look clean over Will’s shoulder, eyes dipping down to his outfit. His jaw was working, he looked pissed, and he stepped closer again, so they were nearly back to front. 

“That’s my sweater,” he mumbled, close enough that Will could feel his breath. 

“Shit, you’re right,” Will said, realizing why it looked so nice on him. “Sorry, can I borrow it?”

“Borrow my sweater to ditch me and hang out with some other guy,” Mike grumbled, but didn’t say no. “You owe me, Byers.”

Byers. Will only got Byers when he was in serious trouble. Usually, it was Will, and when they were alone, baby. Clearly, he had to do some damage control. Will turned around and looked at Mike from under his lashes. “Really, Mike. I am sorry. Carlton said it was the only time he was free.”

Mike sighed like he’d been dealt a fatal blow. “S’okay. Just make sure he’s nice, okay? You deserve the best. Even if the best has a stupid name like Carlton.”

Will laughed despite himself. He’d kind of known Mike would be like this—Mike had always been jealous, and especially over him. It lessened some years, and had strengthened a ridiculous amount recently. Will hadn’t said anything in the first place because he was afraid that Mike would straight up tell him not to go (he wouldn’t have listened, but he didn’t want to hear it anyways).

“I promise I’ll make sure he’s nice,” Will said, and patted Mike’s arm. “Maybe call one of the party over and watch with them, hm? That could be nice.”

Mike hummed, looking miserable. “Maybe, yeah.”

Will left before the puppy dog eyes took effect. 

The date was…fine. Carlton was really nice, and even footed the bill for the coffee. They studied and talked and Carlton seemed interesting and also, equally interested in what Will had to say. But it just…

It just wasn’t perfect. Will’d always been a bit of a romantic, and after watching romance from the sidelines and in movies and comics and books his whole life, he had a pretty high standard of what a perfect first date would be. Unfortunately for Carlton, awkwardly flirting over coffee wasn’t really it. That was part of the problem—Carlton was attractive, he was nice, he was interesting. But those little lags in conversation reminded Will of just how wide the gap between them was. Will wanted to be loved by someone who knew him completely. By someone who knew what he was going to say before the words left his mouth. But that was unrealistic. The only person who knew him that well only liked girls, anyways. 

So Will said yes to a second date. 

When he got home and Mike asked how it went, Will said it was really good, that he was really excited. Mike just looked more and more pissed off with every word. Mike had always been unfair, so Will knew he’d be pissed over this: he wanted a monopoly over Will’s time. Will was a little worried about how satisfying it was to see his face when he said he’d be going on a second date. 

Jane and Max were shocked by this turn of events, to say the least. 

“Carlton?” Max slumped back in her seat. “I know that guy! His dorm is next to Lucas’! Huh, I knew that earring was suspicious.”

Will laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Jane’s brow was furrowed. “But why? You do not really like him. I lied about that.”

“Well…” Will said shyly. “He’s nice. He’s cute. He asked me out. Why not?”

Jane shrugged at this. “I guess.”

Max slapped Will on the back. “I say it’s a good thing. Maybe you’ll finally get over Mike, and we can all breathe a breath of fresh air.”

“Yeah,” Will said, a pit forming in his stomach. He swallowed. “Here’s hoping.”

But it didn’t get better, not really. For their second date, they went a gay bar Carlton had heard about just a bus ride away, and Carlton paid for their drinks and everything. The night was going fine, if not a little boring. But it all crashed and burned when Carlton took him out front and kissed him against the bar’s brick wall, not even asking beforehand. The kiss was…fine. Will suddenly understood what Jane and Max meant when they said there was such a thing as bad kissers. 

He got home with a gray cloud around his head, and slumped down onto the couch. 

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked, mouth full of the pastry Will brought back for him from the twenty-four hour bakery down the street. 

Will hummed, rubbing his hands up and down his own arms. “Nothing.”

“Will. Come on,” Mike slumped down next to him. “Why do you even try lying to me?”

“So maybe you can take a hint,” Will snarked, which just made Mike snort. 

“Fat chance,” Mike said. “C’mon.”

He elbowed Will gently in the side. Gentle, always gentle. Sweet on me, Will thought. 

“He kissed me,” Will mumbled. “Carlton.”

Mike went perfectly still. He swallowed, tossing his pastry onto the coffee table and looking miserable. “He did?”

“Yeah,” Will said, head lolling back onto the couch cushion. “He did.”

“You…happy about that?”

Will sighed deeply, and leaned back into the cushions. He felt pressure behind his forehead, and tears welled up in his eyes. “I didn’t want it.”

“He forced you—”

“No!” Will sat up, covering his face with his hands and rubbing his eyes. “Don’t be stupid, Mike. He didn’t force me. I just…didn’t want any of it. The kiss, the date. I just kept saying yes.”

Mike sat still, contemplative. “What do you want, then?”

You, Will didn’t say. It was more complicated than that, though. “I…don’t know. I thought I wanted that. To be wanted. And I guess I kind of do want that. But…”

“But…”

“But I wanted it to be special.” Will said. “I wanted to want him back. I wanted him to be like in...some kind of fantasy world, I guess. And it wasn’t like that. And it’ll never be like that.”

“Fantasy world?”

“I think I want a love like a movie.” Will hid his face behind his hands and sighed. “But I don’t think I’ll ever get it. I never get what I want.”

“Will…” Mike looked like his heart was breaking with each word. Will looked away, unable to take it. 

“Plus the kiss fucking sucked,” Will joked, with a wet laugh. “Ugh. I didn’t know there was such a thing as a bad kisser ‘til then.”

Mike laughed with him. “Well, that’s ‘cause your first experience was with the best kisser on the planet.”

Will shoved him, wiping his face. “Whatever.”

Mike grabbed his hand as he was being shoved, and pulled him close. “I’m really sorry though, Will. You should’ve had a fun, good first date. Not that.”

Will sniffled, and nodded, allowing himself to be coddled. Mike’s urge to protect had manifested in many different ways, but a big one these days was this syrupy sweet tone and gentle hands all over him. Will just let it happen. He’d needed a win. 

“C’mere,” Mike said, and cuddled him close. Will’s head went to Mike’s shoulder and finally, finally he could release all the tension he’d been holding onto from the day. “You’re going to find what you want, I promise. There’s nobody on the planet that deserves it more than you.”

Will squeezed his eyes tight, trying to stop the tears from falling, but a couple slipped down his cheeks and onto Mike’s shirt, which he tactfully ignored. The words were so sweet that Will’s heart seized, and also…His face went warm. 

In a small voice, he said, “It sucks that my last kiss was that terrible one.”

  Mike shifted back, so they could make eye contact. Will swept his lashes against his cheek before looking back up at Mike, the way he always did when he wanted something. Maybe that was a little unfair. 

“That does suck,” Mike said, eyes drifting down Will’s face to his mouth. The attention made him nervous, so he licked his lips to make sure they weren’t chapped, which just made Mike drift closer, as if there was a magnet in him and Will had the opposite pole. “We can fix that, baby.”

Will wound his arms around Mike’s neck, leaned close and closed his eyes. When Mike didn’t lean in, Will opened his eyes, confused. Mike was grinning. 

“You want something?” Mike asked. “You look like you do.”

Will pressed his lips into a line, rolling his eyes. “You know what I want.”

“Why don’t you take it then?”

Will averted his eyes. “I thought you’d kiss me.”

Mike furrowed his brows like holding himself back pained him. “Yeah? You want me to do all the work?”

“I think you want that, too,” Will said, heart beating a mile a minute in his chest. It had to be true, didn’t it? Mike must want it too, some part of him. It’s why he treated Will the way he did. Like something precious, something important. 

 He closed his eyes again, fingers slipping into Mike’s hair. Mike didn’t even wait a second before closing the distance between them and pressing a bruising kiss to his mouth, hands burning a brand onto his waist. Will pressed himself in as close as he could go, pressed until they were flush against each other. A leftover shudder from all the crying wracked through him, and Mike soothed it away with a gentle hand down his side. Mike was warm, and sweet, and kissed him like he wished they could fuse together and never be parted again. Something in Will’s chest ached at that thought, and he pressed that sweet ache into his kisses, into Mike’s mouth. Mike moaned and grabbed Will’s waist harder, dragging him in, like he tasted the ache as well. Will liked this. Being held like this, touched like this. Like Mike couldn’t live without it, like he needed it. Needed to kiss Will more than he needed air, and fuck, Will’s lungs were burning a little. He pulled back, and when Mike strained to follow, Will held him tight by the grip on his hair. Mike swallowed. 

This time, Will pressed his lips to Mike’s–once, chastely, and ignored his press for more. He kissed his chin, and his jaw, and then right underneath, kissed the soft skin that lay there. 

“C’mon, baby,” Mike encouraged, and Will’s hand, the one that’d slipped from his hair and to the collar of his shirt, balled in a fist. “Come back.”

And how could Will deny an offer when it was as sweet as that? Will pressed another kiss to Mike’s mouth, and shifted his hips forward near unconsciously, and then froze. They both froze, Mike’s brows knitting together as he held back a reaction. They blinked at each other. 

You’re hard, Will thought, but he couldn’t open his mouth and actually say it. 

“Shit, sorry,” Mike mumbled, face slowly turning pink. “I didn’t, um. I mean, it’s—”

“It’s fine,” Will said, because even when he was dazed, comforting Mike was his top priority. “It’s natural. Right?”

“Right,” Mike said, and slowly, like he was approaching a small animal, he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Will’s mouth. He was letting Will decide if he wanted to pull away. Will sat still as a statue. “And how could I help it with someone so pretty in my lap?”

Oh god, it was such a line, but Will couldn’t help but turn red and stifle a giggle. “Shut up.”

“Could we…” Mike looked to the side, turning pinker. Will held his breath. He thought for a second that he’d do anything if Mike asked it in that voice, all shy and wanting. “...keep kissing? Is that okay? We don’t have to like, god, of course we don’t have to do anything. But I want to keep kissing you. Wanna show you…how good it could be with someone who knows how to take care of you.”

Will swore he turned red from the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair. He nodded, Mike’s shy voice infecting him too. He felt too nervous to reply, like he couldn’t get the words past the butterflies in his stomach. It was a headrush, knowing that a few minutes of kissing could have Mike like this. More than a headrush, actually. It sent heat down Will’s spine, pooling in his stomach. As Mike leaned in slowly for another kiss, Will realized he didn’t have to hide his own reaction to the touches anymore. He dragged his hips forward and Mike shifted and groaned into his mouth, which was so fucking hot it made Will’s head spin. Mike clutched at his waist like he couldn’t get Will close enough, and slipped his fingers under the hem of his shirt.

“Please,” Will whispered. Mike nodded like he knew, kissing the next words from Will’s lips and letting his hands wander down to Will’s hips, encouraging them into a push and pull that felt so good Will forgot about kissing. “Ah–Mike. Please.”

“You’ve got it,” Mike said, watching, enraptured, as Will’s hips rolled forwards. They both moaned when Will ground down on Mike through his jeans. “Fuck, that’s good. Keep going.”

For a disorienting, split second, Will thought, Isn’t this weird? And then Mike’s lips attached to his neck, and his head flooded with dopamine and he moaned and his hips twitched involuntarily and he stopped thinking at all. Stopped thinking anything other than Mike, and please, and Oh my god. 

Mike’s teeth sunk into his neck and Will grasped his shoulders, desperately trying to keep himself grounded. There was no fighting the floaty feeling, though, as they moved their hips together more frantically. 

“I’m—” Will gasped, and Mike nodded, encouraging. 

“Yeah, c’mon,” he said, kissing Will and pressing the words into his mouth. “I know, baby, come on. You can finish like this.”

Like he’d spoken it into existence, Will squeezed his thighs around Mike’s legs tight and did just that. 

He panted into Mike’s shoulder as he came down from his high, trying to catch his breath. 

“You did so well,” Mike said, pulling him back to press a kiss to his open mouth. “So good.”

Will didn’t even have to think, he just pulled Mike back in and unbuttoned his jeans. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Max said, crossing her arms over her chest. She was sitting on her bed, while he and Jane sat on Jane’s, right across from her. “And then what? He said, ‘Haha, thanks for the handjob practice, Will?’”

Will buried his face in his hands, blushing wildly. “I shouldn’t have told you anything!”

“Will,” Jane said, as if he was hopeless. She placed a hand on his back. “This is so stupid. Tell us what he said after.”

“Um, he did say thanks,” Will whispered, which made Max flop back onto her bed with a groan. “And I, um. Made him promise it wouldn’t change anything between us.”

Jane and Max sighed at the same time. 

“And what did he say to that?” Jane urged, tone sweet but tinged with frustration. 

Will sighed. “He said that was probably for the best. And that we shouldn’t do it again.”

“Mike Wheeler,” Max gritted out, pulling at her own hair. “He’s so dumb I can’t believe it.”

“You do not actually think he wants to stop, do you?” Jane said, raising her eyebrows. “Will. Come on. You’re smart.”

“Men don’t just kiss you for no reason!” Max stressed, and then she and Jane looked at each other.

“Well, some men do,” Jane said. “But not Mike Wheeler. And not you.”

“You guys can’t tell me this doesn’t sound like something Mike would do,” Will said, turning pink. “Practice kissing to help out a friend? It reeks of a Wheeler plan.”

Max snorts. “Sure, but think about it this way: it sounds exactly like what he’d do to get what he wanted without having to ask for it.”

Will stills, hands leaving his face. As the leading Mike Wheeler expert in the entire world, what Max said actually…sounded extremely accurate. Like something Mike really would do, instead of just being normal and expressing his feelings. Will’s face went even redder, and something extremely dangerous bloomed in his chest: hope. 

“But,” Will protested, ever the contrarian when it came to Mike and his supposed “feelings” (if he even had any), “What if you’re wrong? What if he doesn’t feel that way, and then I confront him, and then he’s totally weirded out by it all?”

“Do you really think he’d stop being your friend, even if he didn’t feel the same way?” Jane asked. 

Will shook his head and said, miserably, “No, but he might stop treating me the way he does.”

Jane raised an eyebrow and looked at Max, who pulled at her hair again. 

“I’m going to go grey,” she mumbled. “Will. Dear. How does he treat you?”

“He buys my things, he holds the door for me. He’s sweet on me,” Will whispered. He played with his fingers. “He calls me baby.”

Jane’s fingers tightened on him. “You did not tell me that!”

“He only does it when we’re alone,” Will said, pinkening. 

“Okay!” Max said, sitting up. She slipped off her bed and walked right over to Will, sitting between his legs. She took a hold of both his shoulders firmly, her face red as a poppy with anger, her blue eyes hard as ice. “Promise me you’ll test it.”

Will’s gaze darted around her face, confused. “Test it?”

Max nodded. “Test it! Not try it, not explicitly.  You flirt with him. Ask him to do it again. Kiss you, touch you. If it works, he wants you, and you know it. If it doesn’t, you pretend it was for practice to go out with Carlton, and Mike never knows the difference. This way, everybody wins, right? Can you promise me that?”

“I don’t know how to flirt!” Will squeaked. 

“Au contraire,” Max said, which made Jane cock her head to the side in confusion. “It means that’s stupid in French. You do know how to flirt. You literally flirt with Mike all the time! We all have to sit through it! You bat your eyelashes at him and he literally winds himself around your little finger. It’s obscene, Will. Obscene.”

“You have to try,” Jane said, shaking Will by the shoulders. “Please, Will, please! Try!”

“Okay! Okay. I’ll try…” Will went pink. “And flirt with him. And when it doesn’t work, I’ll die and then haunt your dorm like a Victorian ghost, and I’ll enter your dreams and make them scary and fraught.”

Jane and Max just stared at him for a second, before bursting into peals of laughter. 

So the plan was set, and simple. Will would…bat his eyelashes. Use that tone of voice that he knew got him whatever he wanted. He would try. 

Mike gets home from work around six PM, and he’s usually exhausted from having a full day of lectures and a shift at the library. He tends to talk with Will until he falls asleep. Usually, Will tries his best to keep quiet and let Mike have a nap. But today, it’ll be a little different. Will showers first, and uses all his nicest smelling soaps and lotions that he saves for fancy occasions. Will picks one of Mike’s shirts out from his drawers, and slips it on. Then he wears his denim shorts that always get him stares and attention when he wears them to the local gay bar. Then he lays on his stomach on Mike’s bed, and sketches ‘til he hears the familiar sound of the lock turning. 

“Hi, baby,” Mike says, sounding exhausted but happy to see him. Will turns onto his back, smiling over at him. “Why are you in my bed? Not that I’m complaining.”

Will shrugs a shoulder. “Missed you.”

Mike’s expression melts at that, and he drops his back and shrugs off his hoodie. “I missed you, too. So much.”

He toes off his shoes and falls into Will’s open arms with an oomph, and Will gets squished but doesn’t complain. It’s nice, like having a weighted blanket. Will pets Mike’s hair and Mike sighs into his neck, content. Will distantly wonders if Mike can hear his heart, which is jackrabbiting against his chest. 

“I was wondering,” Will starts, twirling a lock of Mike’s hair around his finger. “And, you can say no, of course. I mean, you’re probably tired after work.”

Mike shifts onto his forearms, so they’re face-to-face. He has on a curious expression, which makes sense, since it’s not every day Will asks him for something. “You know I’ll do it, baby. What is it?”

“I was hoping maybe we could practice again,” Will whispered. “Like we did yesterday.”

Mike’s face flicks through a wild array of emotion: hope, excitement, then heartbreak, resignation. “We…We really shouldn’t. Not again. It’s probably not a good idea.”

Will’s heart breaks cleanly down the middle, and he tries his best not to let Mike see the hurt shining in his eyes. He nods slowly, but then thinks of Max, of what Max said. Try. 

“You…don’t want to?” He says it in the wobbliest voice he can muster, which isn’t so hard after the sting of Mike’s rejection. Mike’s brows furrow and he closes his eyes. 

“That’s not the problem, baby,” Mike says, smoothing a line down Will’s waist. His gaze dips down, and he really looks at Will. The shirt he’s wearing. Mike pulls up the hem of it, looking at the shorts. He drops his head to Will’s shoulder with a groan. “I promise that is not the problem.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Will whispers, letting his lashes kiss his cheek. He twirls another lock of Mike’s hair. “If you really want to?”

Mike huffs again, and Will guides him up so they’re face to face again, leaning in so their noses are touching. He nuzzles against Mike’s face gently, scratching gently at his scalp. 

“Please?” Will whispers, his lips grazing the side of Mike’s mouth as he speaks. “Mike…”

“Jesus,” Mike says, the grip on Will’s hip tight enough to brand. “Will, we can’t because it’s wrong, okay?”

“Wrong?” Will asks, leaning back abruptly. “How?”

“Because I want it for more than just practice,” Mike grits out. “And you don’t. And that’s wrong.”

Will’s heart picked up like it was running a marathon. Holy shit. Holy shit. He admitted it! Mike Wheeler admitted he wanted something! And shit, it really was easy to get him to do so. Max was right! All he’d had to do was bat his eyelashes. He’d remember to thank her later. 

“Who says I don’t?” Will asks, trying not to giggle. 

Mike searched his expression, the light hesitantly returning to his eyes. “Will. Really? Are you sure? You…I mean, really?”

“Of course,” Will says, leaning in close again. “I mean, as long as you’re saying you love me.”

 Mike exhales a shuddery breath, and Will feels it on his lips. “I am. I do. Holy shit, Will, I love you so much. You don’t even know.”

“I think I may have some idea,” Will says, casting a glance over at his side of the room, where his desk is piled on with cute knick-knacks and pens and books and other gifts from Mike. Mike follows his gaze and turns pink. 

“I may have been a little obvious,” Mike says, having the decency to sound a little sheepish. “But I like buying you things.”

“I like when you buy me things,” Will whispers, a little embarrassed. He loops his arms around Mike’s neck. “And I like when you kiss me. So…can we? Kiss again? Please, Mike?”

Mike shushes him, kissing his cheek. “You don’t have to beg, baby. If you’d just asked in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to tell you no.”

“I did ask!” Will protests, and Mike laughs, kissing his other cheek. 

“No, you asked if we could practice. Very different,” Mike murmurs, leaning in close. Will lets his eyes flutter shut, and then opens them in annoyance when Mike doesn’t move. “Just one more thing.”

“What?” Will whines. He’s not usually such a brat, but Mike’s being annoying. 

“Did you wear these on purpose?” Mike asks, slipping his fingers underneath Will’s shorts. Will feels the blood drain from his face and race below his belt. 

“Um,” Will giggles, a little embarrassed. “Do you like them?”

“You’re evil,” Mike groans, kissing him on the mouth. Will laughs into the kiss, and Mike pulls back again. “You’re conniving.” 

Will hums his agreement. “Well, if you hate them so much, you can take them off.”

Mike kisses him properly after that. This kiss is sweeter than the last few, with the words I love you pressed into Will’s mouth.