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Bill doesn't duck the punch. A few years ago, he would have. He would have ducked and let Mike punch the wall behind him. Bill would have helped him bandage his hand after and held it while they kissed. Mike wouldn't have been able to stay angry and they would have kissed and Bill would have blown him to say sorry.
Bill doesn't duck. Mike's punch catches him across the cheek and knocks his head back into the wall. Something makes a terrible crunching noise and Bill's vision jars for a second, everything blurs and then snaps back into focus. Everything hurts and for a second he can't even think, can't remember, over how much pain he's in.
"Mike," He gasps. Fuck, fuck, that hurts so much. Just as well his knees have locked, otherwise he'd be on the floor. Fucking hell, Mike makes his punches count. He sways suddenly forward and Mike grabs his shoulders to stop him from falling. "Woah," Bill says. He hadn't realised pain could pulse.
"Fucking shit, Bill, why didn't you duck?" Mike says. He still sounds angry.
"Didn't want you to break your hand," Bill says, letting his eyes fall closed.
"Jesus Christ, so you let me break your face?" Mike says and then sighs.
"Pretty much, yeah," Bill says. He's never pretended to have some great sense of self-preservation. There are a lot of things he doesn't like about himself, but at least he's never pretended to be anything else than what he is.
He's still trying to catch his breath when Mike kisses him. God, Bill hates him so much. He couldn't have done this years ago, when Bill still loved him? Mike reaches around to cup the back of Bill's head and the sudden explosion of pain makes him grab at Mike's arms.
"Get off, Mike, get off me," He says, pulling his face away. Mike stops kissing him but won't let go, so Bill knees him in the balls and then, this time, ducks when Mike instinctively takes a swing. "Let go of me asshole," Bill says, more angrily this time. Mike's grip on his shoulder tightens, so Bill does the first thing that comes into his mind. He's an adult, he has a daughter and everything, but he still leans forward and sinks his teeth into the vulnerable skin on the side of Mike's arm.
"Fucking hell!" Mike shouts, pulling his arm back lightening fast. "What the fuck Bill?" He looks hurt, confused and, as always, angry. Bill's always made Mike angry.
"No, not what the fuck me, what the fuck you, Mike," Bill snaps. His head hurts too much for him to rely on anything but the wall to hold him up, so he can't try and loom but he still gestures angrily with his pointer finger. "You had every chance. Your timing is fucked up, man. I have a daughter. You like Christine. Fuck off."
Careful not to jostle his head, Bill runs a hand through his hair. Mike doesn't even look ashamed or sorry. He shrugs.
"That never stopped us before, man." He says. God, sometimes Bill hates him so much.
"No. Not now, not ever. If you can't live with that, then... Goddamnit Mike, then fuck off."