Chapter Text
Will blinks his bleary eyes open.
It’s a Saturday. It's a beautiful spring morning. No classes, no homework to worry about. There's golden sunlight seeping in through the curtains, warming the sleep-flushed skin of Will's face.
Will shouldn't have any grounds for complaining.
But he has never felt quite so lost.
He sits up with a deep yawn, rubbing the leftover sleep out of his eyes, before he gives the left side of the bed a lingering glance. There’s no evidence that Carlton was ever there save for the slightly rumpled white sheets, the ghost of a body's imprint in them.
The memories of the previous night flood into Will's brain all at once, invasive and startling.
Carlton, his boyfriend of 3 months, had come into Will's room at around 11pm, alcohol flushing his cheeks; a slight stagger to his gait. Will had been lazing on his bed, after a shower, clad in cozy pajamas; brunette hair damp. His knees were drawn up to him and an open sketchbook propped up on them— he was simply trying to draw. Art always relaxed Will after a long day; it soothed his soul and calmed his nerves. It took his mind off of all the chaos and the stress; the raging tempest which is his life.
Carlton had plopped down onto the bed next to Will, mattress dipping under his weight. This finally made Will close his sketchbook and set it aside, before directing his curious gaze to his boyfriend. It was downhill from there.
Will had made out with Carlton plenty of times, though Will never felt a sense of gratification or pleasure from kissing him. It's odd, because if you like someone you should definitely enjoy kissing them. It should make your stomach erupt in butterflies and your chest flutter. And if it goes on long enough, it should cause a stirring of arousal, it should turn you on, it should feel good. But to Will, it just doesn't. His mind always seems to wander to random, pointless things. It's like he can't focus. No matter how hard he tries, his mind seems to fixate on anything and everything except what is actually going on. It's almost comical.
And then his mind wanders further, to all the "what-ifs-"
"What if there's something wrong with me?"
"What if I don't really like Carlton?"
"What if I'm the problem? What if I'm just horrible at kissing?"
These thoughts only serve to distract Will further, to the point he has to pull away.
Last night was no different. Will was dissociating as always while he and Carlton were making out, his eyes still half-open, hands lying limp on the sheets beside his own thighs, and mind somewhere completely in left field. Carlton remained blissfully oblivious; practically sucking Will's face off, hands wandering all over his body as if there was no tomorrow.
And his hands began to wander lower than what is considered normal for the two, which made Will abruptly pull back from the kiss with a small startled gasp.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
Carlton had huffed, hands stilling in their movements of trying to sneak under Will's checkered pajama pants.
"I'm just touching you. Is that allowed? I mean.. come on, Will. Give me a break. I'm so pent-up here. Can't I have a little something? Please?"
Will had stared at Carlton incredulously for a long moment, because he truly could not wrap his head around his boyfriend's thought process. Or his words. Because the two of them had discussed this numerous times during the past 3 months.
Will would exclusively tell Carlton when he's ready to go further, and they had agreed on this. So why does the latter insist? It's irritating. It feels like an overstepping of their established boundaries and straight-up disrespect to Will and his wishes.
Will couldn't help but bristle and tense in slight offense.
"We've talked about this, Carlton," Will muttered out exasperatedly.
"Yes, I know," Carlton groaned, the sound exaggerated and obnoxious. "But it's been months, baby. Just.. just let me touch you, please?"
He had asked in an alcohol-slurred, pleading tone, his hands simultaneously going back to their motions of trying to go down Will's pants.
Will had relented with a deep sigh and a half-hearted nod, because he was tired of explaining. Tired of fighting. And because he let a consoling thought enter his headspace.
How bad could it be?
Will's boyfriend might not be here this morning, but he is most of the time. Because yes, for better or for worse, Carlton and Will live together. However, it isn't really because of their relationship; it's more out of convenience than anything else. Rent in an apartment— any apartment, no matter how shitty— in New York and near a large college no less, is not very cheap. When you're only 19 and you're juggling school and work, it's pretty much necessary to have some kind of financial aid. That's where Carlton steps in. His presence helps them both, in that they're able to split the rent evenly, and they don't have to struggle with keeping up on utility expenses each month.
But in all honesty, Will prefers being alone. He would much rather have only the walls and his thoughts to keep him company. It's more peaceful that way; to not have someone breathing down your neck, to have the freedom to do what you want, when you want to do it. And Will feels very misunderstood by Carlton most of the time because of this. Sure, he's not a bad guy, but he doesn't understand who Will is as a person. What he wants, what his dreams and goals are. The things he holds dearest to him.
And after last night's... events, he now knows he definitely doesn't understand how to please Will.
It was rushed, it was gross and awkward, it had no passion or communication. And worst of all?
Will couldn't even finish.
It’s just like his boyfriend's touch wasn't doing it for him.
He needed something else, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It's like being with this boy has hollowed him out, leaving him empty and aching to be filled with something more. Something that had nothing to do with his boyfriend. Yeah, this is a need that Carlton can never satiate.
Will had tried to fixate on certain thoughts to coax himself into finishing, and he hated himself when he found his mind drifting to the estranged boy he was in love with once.
He imagined it was his hands working over him, his lips skimming over his skin. He imagined in that moment that he was the one making Will feel so much pleasure that all the latter could do is moan and writhe and bury his fingers into dark locks.
Every time Will had felt himself almost getting there, the guilt of his wandering mind would set him back, dragging him back to square one again. It frustrated him so badly that he damn near wanted to cry. He felt as if he was the one in the wrong; it was really just so very embarrassing for him and he felt pathetic.
Carlton had eventually taken the hint and stopped upon Will’s request, but things were unbearably awkward from there because of the very much one-sided situation.
Will helped his boyfriend to get off, and then not much more was said. That was the end of that.
Will wishes more than anything that he could go back in time and say "NO." It would save himself the humiliation and guilt. He feels so stupid he could punch himself. He is a complete idiot, and this is all his fault.
Will finally tears his gaze away from the other side of the bed and shoves the unpleasant thoughts to the back burner of his mind; peeling the covers off of himself so that he can get up and start his day.
He shuffles out of bed and stretches out his limbs above his head, yawning and arching like a cat. He's about to reach down and collect his discarded shirt from the floor, when he hears a sudden sound breaking through the morning silence of his bedroom.
BEEEEP-
"Hey Will. It's me. Mike."
Will whips his head around, all thoughts of redressing himself abandoned.
There's a small pause and a shaky breath heard from the answering machine, and then:
"Um- I know you're busy and stuff, so I completely understand, but it's just that.. I haven't heard from you much lately, like at all. So, I'm just wondering how you're doing and what you've been up to the past few months. And I guess.. I'm just hoping you're okay. Oh, and I also wanted to tell you that I know NYU is having their Spring break right now, so I was kinda thinking of.. visiting? Maybe? If that's okay with you and you can like, fit that into your schedule. Just uhm- when you get this, if you get this, call me back. And just keep in mind, you can call me anytime. Uh- Bye."
At hearing his best friend's voice, Will's heart feels a million times lighter but also a million times heavier at the same time. Oh, how he's missed that obnoxious, awkward, stuttery voice of his. It's the same voice that has pulled him out of supernatural trances, that has soothed him when he was little and in distress, that saved him in the midst of all the horrifying experiences he's been through. Mike's voice is like light, cutting through time and space, reaching into the depths of Will's soul and erasing all the darkness.
But hearing it also causes a sense of bittersweetness to gnaw at Will's chest, because things aren't the same anymore.
The darkness has taken Will, and Mike is too far away to pull him out now.
Before Will can stop himself though, he's bolting over to the phone, nearly tripping over his own feet in his hurry. He punches in Mike's number a bit too enthusiastically; to an outsider's perspective, it might appear as though he will break the buttons.
Will brings the phone up to his ear. The dial tone hums for a good few minutes, causing Will to chew on the fingernail of his thumb in anticipation.
Something about this almost feels wrong. The way he is so eager and desperate to hear Mike's voice again. Not only that, but he also doesn't want to hear Mike sound so nervous and unsure. He wants to reassure him, he wants to hear him happy, he wants to gush about literally every single event that has happened in the past 3 months, major and insignificant alike.
But there's the lingering, haunting guilt in the back of his mind. He knows that if Carlton burst through the door and caught Will trying to get in contact with Mike, he would be so angry. And quite frankly, Will's boyfriend scares him when he's angry.
All Will can see when Carlton is yelling in his face is his father. And to this day, so many years later, it still causes Will to feel like a little defenseless child again; to shrink back and curl in on himself in fear every time it happens.
But his need to speak to his best friend ultimately overrides the anxiety. He doesn't care about Carlton right now.
He feels like he might die if Mike doesn't answer his call. He chews on his lip, fiddling with the cord of his phone as the dial tone buzzes from the speaker for the seventh time.
Will's about to give up when-
"...Hello?"
Will perks up immediately at the sound.
"...Hi, Mike," he says shyly into the receiver.
"Will!"
Will can't help but beam, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink before he can stop himself. There's the tone he was hoping for.
God, it really has been too long.
"Yeah, uhm.. it's me," Will mumbles nervously, still twirling the cord around his finger absentmindedly. "I got your message. I'm doing okay."
There's a noise coming through the speaker that sounds almost like a sigh of relief.
"Phew, I'm glad. I haven't heard from you in like, so long, y'know. I was starting to get a little worried."
"Oh, yeah. I appreciate the concern, Mike. But uh- yeah, I'm all good. Everything's good with me."
"Well, that's good."
There's a slight pause, neither of them saying or doing anything except breathing softly.
Will huffs out a soft laugh to break the tension.
"So, were you gonna tell me what's going on with you, how you've been? Or did you just call to breathe into the phone?" Will's voice is cheeky, teasing.
"O-oh! Uhm-" Mike sputters. "Yeah, sorry. Honestly? Not much has been going on over here. I got a car. It's not the most extravagant thing. I'm actually a little embarrassed of it but.. it gets me from point A to point B, which I guess is the most important thing." Mike pauses with a soft scoff of amusement.
"Mm, what else.. College has been keeping me busy. I've been writing, like gosh.. all the time. But as far as like everything else, nothing has really changed. There's uhm.. no one new, or anything like that."
Will's heart skips a beat. No one new. He feels guilt eating at his chest again, because he feels as if he's replaced Mike. Meanwhile Mike is probably miserable and all alone in Indiana. Will would be too, if his girlfriend died, all his friends dispersed, and he's the only one left to comb through all the damage.
He can't stop the next words from leaving his mouth. They're soft, just this side of pleading.
"Come to New York, Mike."
A pause.
"Wh..what? You actually want me to come?"
Will finds it comical that Mike is so shocked. They're best friends! No amount of time or distance would change that, nothing in the world that happens could break their bond. Of course he wants to see Mike.
"What kind of question is that, Mike? Of course I do. We have so much to catch up on.." Will chews on his lip, hoping he doesn't sound too eager. He backtracks as he doubts once again, thoughts of Carlton plaguing his mind.
"Uhm, only if it's convenient for you to come. Like, if you don't have the money or if you have other plans, that's fine too, Mi-"
"No. No, no! Not at all. It's like so convenient actually. I'm still the same old loser, so I don't exactly have plans to party it up all week, if you catch my drift."
That elicits a little giggle from Will. Other people always find Mike dorky and odd, but Will just finds him charming. Amusing. He's still got it bad, doesn't he?
No. Bad Will.
You have a boyfriend.
Behave yourself, Will.
"What about you, Will? You turned into a party animal in New York?"
Will rolls his eyes incredulously, still smiling against the receiver.
"No, Mike. I'm not a 'party animal.' I mean, I've-" Will shakes his head with a resigned sigh, and he hears Mike's laugh huff through the speaker.
"It's okay, Will. I was only teasing. But uhm, yeah. I totally want to come. Today, if that's okay with you."
Will's eyes practically bug out of his head.
"Today?!"
"It's gonna take me ten hours to drive, maybe more with traffic. So, you have pretty much all day to get ready and do whatever shit you need to do. Unless of course, it's too soon. I could wait until-"
Great. That works well. He has time to distract Carlton and make sure he won't be home.
Bad Will, Bad Will, Bad Will.
"No, no, I just didn't expect you to come today. But you know, actually, that's totally cool. Fine with me."
"Oh wow? Really? Damn, uh, I better get my stuff together then. I'll be on my way soon, Will."
"Okay, Mike," Will forces his voice to remain at least a semblance of calm. "I'll see you later."
"Mkay, bye."
"Buh-bye," Will says before putting the phone back with a soft click, a huge grin breaking out across his annoyingly flushed cheeks.
He is practically buzzing with excitement. He can feel it thrumming under his skin and rushing through his veins, because holy shit, Mike Wheeler is coming to visit him.
***
Will spends the rest of his day preparing like his life depends on it.
He knows he's being more than a little overbearing, but he just can't help himself. He can't help the way he pays special attention to make sure everything is in place, that there is no dust clinging to the furniture, that the clothes scattered on the floor are neatly put away in their proper place. Deep down, he knows that Mike really doesn't give a fuck if the place is clean or not. Hell, the boy's room has always looked like a cyclone just crashed through it. Will, however has always been the opposite- he's a very clean and organized person; and when he is excited or stressed, he often finds himself going on a binge cleaning spree. It's become a habit of his, and right now it is serving a good purpose, because living with another person has caused some things around the apartment to get a bit out of hand.
Everything about tonight has to be perfect. The apartment, and Will too.
Once the space is clean, Will works on himself. He showers and then spends an embarrassingly long amount of time rummaging through his closet for something to wear. He eventually settles on a pair of jeans and a striped zip-up hoodie. Nothing special, but it feels like him, and it's comfortable.
Carlton had briefly come home around dinner time, and Will made it his mission to shoo him off again as quickly as possible.
Will still felt a little bit of shame. Carlton is an overly jealous and possessive person, and he didn't like the concept of Mike at all from the very start. Will has explained to his boyfriend numerous times that Mike is just a friend, to no avail. Will is a bit scared that Carlton will find out and go off the rails and do something drastic, but his excitement to see his best friend ultimately drowns that out.
That doesn't stop Will from veiling the truth though.
"I'm having some friends over for a hang-out tonight. You should go out too," Will had explained in the most innocent tone possible, batting his lashes and throwing in a kiss to sweeten the deal. The last thing he wanted to do after last night's... incident was to kiss Carlton, but he was desperate.
Will had mentally cheered when he convinced his boyfriend to listen to him.
By the time Will is by himself in the apartment again, it's already 6:15pm. Mike should be here any time now.
He takes a seat on the couch to stop himself from pacing, but he can't stop himself from bouncing his leg up and down in the sheer anticipation of it all. This is like, a really big deal. He hasn't seen Mike in so long, and the more the clock ticks the more nerves he feels creeping up on him.
Because he can't help but wonder.. what if Mike looks different now? Did he get a haircut? Did his style change this past year? Does he still act the same, talk the same, or has he picked up on new mannerisms or words?
Worse yet, will seeing Mike in the flesh after such a long time cause that myriad of old feelings to crash back onto Will?
Deep down, he already knows his fate is sealed. He just doesn't know how he feels about it.
Before he can entertain his thoughts any further, there's a soft but insistent tap-tap-tap on the front door. Will quickly springs up from his seat, smoothing a hand over his perfectly fluffed hair.
He takes a deep breath once he gets to the door and then he takes the leap, twisting the knob and opening the door.
And holy...
Holy fucking shit.
Mike is standing there in a stupidly nice-looking blue sweater, jeans, and converse — same style as always, which if Will's being completely honest, he kind of expected. There's a little awkward smile gracing the ravenette's lips, and, oh no. Now Will's looking at his face and-
Oh.
Oh.
His dark hair is a bit shorter than last time Will saw him, but it is still perfectly curled at his ears, the fringe of it falling onto his forehead. And he has glasses. Mike is wearing these obnoxiously nerdy, thin large frames on his face, and they only serve to bring out the chocolate-brown of his eyes and the smattering of freckles across his cheeks.
Yeah, Will was right. He hasn't moved on at all.
Bad Will.
"Hi," Will says, immediately mentally cursing himself for how breathy the word sounded.
Mike gives Will a quick once-over, and Will swears he can see the ghost of an eyebrow raise. Is Mike, too, mildly surprised by how Will has also grown into his adult looks? Is he feeling a fraction of the raging emotions Will is feeling right now? Is his heart slamming against his ribs like Will's is?
"Hey."
How is he always so calm?!
It is irritating beyond belief, so much so that all Will can do is stare.
Because he's irritated. Not because he's stupidly attracted or anything. Definitely not, that would be so insane.
"Are you gonna let me in, or are you gonna make me stay out here all night?" The corner of Mike's lip quirks up in a small smirk, and his voice is light and playful.
Will's cheeks flush a bit against his will, suddenly self-conscious and fearing that Mike had somehow gained mind reading abilities. That would be bad, because then he would know that Will was just now thinking of climbing the boy like a tree.
"Uhm, yeah, sorry. Come on in." He steps aside, smiling warmly at his friend as he invites him into his apartment with a wave of his hand.
Mike takes a few slow steps in, dark eyes darting around the space of Will's apartment, seemingly taking everything in, from the pictures on the walls to the knick-knacks on the shelves.
"Homey place," Mike mutters, the words casual, almost absentminded. Will follows after Mike like a lost puppy, because he truly feels like one in this moment. He wants a hug, even if it's just a quick bro-hug or a tap on the shoulder. He just can't help but want a little something from his best friend. He feels ridiculously needy, but It's just been so long. Too long.
And as much as Will hates to admit it, the smell of Mike's cologne is intoxicating. It's a new scent, that's for sure. But Will loves it, and it only makes his crave to be close to him that much worse.
Mike turns around, the hall light illuminating the sharp features of his face as he redirects his gaze back to Will. To Will's surprise, Mike's expression has shifted into a soft one, and there's a sincere smile sprawled across his cheeks.
"I missed you, Will."
Will's breath hitches, his heart doing an unwanted little flip-flop in his chest.
"I uhm.. I missed you too, Mike."
Mike seems to hesitate for a moment when they just look at each other. He then takes an impulsive large step forward, wrapping his arms around Will in a hug which knocks the breath out of Will's lungs in its force.
It isn't a casual half-hug, or one of those bro-hugs that result in patting the other guy's back obnoxiously hard. For once, Mike doesn't hug Will like he's scared to touch him. Rather, he holds him in a sweet embrace, almost as if he's handling the most delicate flower. It leaves no room for doubt in Will's mind about how much his friend misses him.
Will can't help but melt, burying his smiling face in Mike's shoulder like this is where he's meant to be.
Deep down, he knows it is.
The moment Mike pulls back and gazes down at Will with that impossibly soft look, Will feels his heart ache with a familiar yearning as old as time itself.
It's in that moment that he knows it's going to be a very long night, for him at least.