Chapter Text
Mike checked his watch for the millionth time in the last five minutes, the time seeming to tick by slower and slower with each passing second. Will was taking longer than usual inside his last class of the day, and Mike was tired from his long day of tedious classes.
Mike didn’t blame him, though. Things were bound to take longer every once in a while, and Mike was pretty sure Will could make him stand outside for hours on end and Mike wouldn’t be able to feel a particle of anger towards him.
Just, Mike couldn’t wait to get home. All he wanted to do was curl up on the couch and watch a movie. He wanted to put his head in his best friend’s lap, and feel his fingers scratching lightly against Mike's scalp, and go to sleep.
Thank god it was Friday.
Mike really didn’t think he was gonna make it through this week- it was easily the worst he’d ever had during his college career so far. It was the exam season preceding winter break, the second to last week of school before they were freed. Naturally, as is every exam season, every single professor was stressed out, constantly, creating every classroom to be a breeding ground for unnecessary arguments.
Nancy had called this morning, to let Mike know that Holly was losing her shit back in Hawkins. The empty house was getting to her, it seemed. Mike couldn’t blame her- he didn’t want to spend time with only his dad either. The only reason Mike still entertained him was that shiny silver credit card he used so graciously on his children in place of emotional support.
All Mike wanted to do was go back to his and Will's apartment, and eat dinner with Will, and watch a movie with Will, and go to sleep. Preferably in Will's bed. Will didn’t let him do that often, but maybe if Mike really emphasized how bad of a week he had then Will would allow it.
He hoped so.
Finally, Will emerged from his classroom, surrounded by a group of people that Mike didn’t know and smiling brightly. He looked so fucking beautiful. There was paint staining his hands, dying the normally paler skin all different shades of blue. Mike wondered what he was painting.
Will didn’t usually show him- it’s a boundary Will had steadfastly set, despite Mike's many protests. He worried, sometimes, late at night when the anxiety ate away at his insides, that Will didn’t trust him.
He wasn't sure that was really true, in the light of day. It still lived presently in the front of his mind, though.
When the cluster of art students reached Mike's area, Mike watched Will's smile go up in brightness several degrees when he spotted him. The possessive version of Mike inside his head felt a sick twist of satisfaction that he was the one to make Will noticably happier.
Mike didn’t have the right to be possessive, he knew that. Will didn’t belong to him, would never- he was gay, sure, but being gay didn’t automatically equal being attracted to Mike. Mike wasn’t entitled to his affection.
Mike had figured out he was gay almost six years ago, when they were sixteen and finally finished with the interdimensional monsters, watching Will get to flourish in his life for the first time ever. Not only that, he figured out he was madly in love with his best friend- always had been, probably, just in denial or misunderstanding his feelings.
Now, it was senior year of college, Will and Mike were twenty-one, and those feelings hadn’t faded in the slightest. Will was still flourishing, they were still best friends, and Mike was still insanely in love.
“Hey, baby,” Mike said, smiling softly at Will once Will had estranged himself from his cluster of friends from class and he was within hearing distance. Reaching over, he grabbed Will's bag from his back, swinging it onto his free shoulder and brushing his knuckles up Will's arm on the way.
“Hi, Mike,” Will smiled sweetly at him, holding out the covered canvas he was holding, which Mike took into his arms without hesitation. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Mike responded, and turned to lead them toward the direction of their apartment. “How was your day? I feel like I haven't seen you at all.” It was true, and a major factor towards why Mike's day was so abysmal. They usually met up for lunch, or in between classes at some point, but his day had been dismally Will-less. It was rough.
“It was great!” Will exclaimed, practically bouncing from one foot to another. “My classes were fun, and we’ve gotten most of the final projects turned in by now so it was pretty light.” He pouts up at Mike, and Mike feels the sudden urge to kiss him. Actually, not sudden. He always wants to kiss Will. “I missed you, though.”
Fuck. “I missed you too, baby.”
They walk in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Mike basking in Will's company. It feels curative, almost, like Will is the anti-depressant he needs a daily dosage of to pull him out of the hole his life often falls into.
Will has that effect on everyone, probably. He’s like the sun.
“Mike, do you wanna go out tonight?” Will asks suddenly.
No. Nononononono. That actually sounds like Mike's worst nightmare. Mike wants to do the exact opposite. “I wanna do whatever you wanna do,” he says, his urge to appease Will’s every desire overtaking his urge to function selfishly.
Will frowns. “I asked what you want to do.”
“I answered.”
“No, you didn’t. What do you want to do?”
“If you want to go out, I want to go out too.”
Will stops in his tracks, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning up at Mike. Adorable. “Stop it, Mike.”
“Stop what?” Mike asks innocently, his hand twitching at his side, resisting reaching out and pulling Will to his chest.
“You’re being mean.” So fucking cute.
“I’m sorry. What do you want to do tonight?”
Will frowned at Mike's turning the question back onto him, but seemingly decided to allow the change of subject. “I was thinking about going out, but I know you’ve had a long week, and we can always go another day.” He was so sweet. So good to Mike. Mike didn’t deserve him.
Mike smiled, striding forward again to continue the walk towards the apartment. “You’re so considerate. Thank you.”
A beat passed. “So, what do you wanna do?” Will asked, as if it wasn’t already decided.
“We’re going out. Can we just push it back an hour, so that I can take a nap first? Or, you can go without me and I'll meet you there.”
Will shook his head. “No, I want to go with you. Take a nap when we get home and we can go at like ten. Is that okay?”
Mike nodded. “That’s perfect.”
Mike set the canvas down carefully on their kitchen counter, watching Will for any signs of putting it down incorrectly. No such signs appeared. He hooked Will's bag onto the stand by the door, setting down Will's wallet and keys on the table before setting down his own stuff.
“Do you want me to make dinner while you’re asleep, and you can eat it before we go?” Will asked, leaning his hip against the counter.
Mike shook his head. “Don’t bother. I had a big lunch.”
Will frowned. “You have to eat three meals a day, Mike. And you need to have food in your stomach so we can drink later.”
“I’m not gonna drink. Are you hungry? I can order you pizza or something.”
Will’s frown deepened. “No, somebody brought in food during class. C’mon, Mike, are you sure?”
Mike loved when Will pushed for Mike to take care of himself like this. He’d gotten so good at pushing for what he wanted, for standing up for himself- Mike was so fucking proud of him.
“I’m sure.” Taking a couple steps forward, Mike hooked a finger through Will's belt loop, tugging him gently. Will stumbled forward, colliding with Mike's chest and looking up at him through his pretty lashes. “You know what would help me the most right now?”
Will hummed in response.
“You, on top of me, warm-”
Will shoved him away, Mike laughing at the flushed look on his face. “Shut up, Mike-”
“Cuddling! I mean cuddling.”
This was a game they played, sometimes, the pretend flirting and deep gazes and soft touches. It wasn’t pretend for Mike, obviously, and it kinda hurt sometimes. It wasn’t Will’s fault, of course, Mike initiated it as much and more as Will did. The struggle was internal. He’d take what he could get, though.
“Okay, fine,” Will breathed, and Mike smiled.
“Go change and meet me in my room,” Mike ordered gently, squeezing Will's hip before letting him go.
“You’re not wearing a shirt,” Will said, his arms crossed as he looked down at Mike stretched across his bed, the covers pulled up to his waist. He was, indeed, not wearing a shirt. Also, Will was one to talk, wearing flowy shorts that barely covered his ass and one of Mike's oversized t-shirts. He was looking fucking delectable.
“Well, this is my room,” Mike said. “Doesn’t that mean I can wear whatever I want?”
Will raised his eyebrows. “Okay, I'll go then.”
Mike, for lack of better words, lunged out and caught Will's wrist, pulling him down and onto the bed on top of Mike. “No, please. I’m sorry. Don’t go.”
Will giggled, wriggling off of Mike's body and onto the bed beside him. The shorts rode up to tantalizing heights. Mike felt like a pervert. But could anyone blame him, really, when Will looked like he did? His cheeks were so flushed, his thighs so thick and pretty, his ass so-
Nope. That train of thought stopped right there.
Will inched under the covers beside Mike, reaching over him and setting an alarm on Mike's clock for nine thirty. Their faces were inches apart as he did it, his lips parted and his tongue stuck out slightly as he tried to get it with one hand. So pretty.
Once he did, he collapsed onto Mike's chest, burrowing his nose into the skin of Mike's shoulder.
“Are you excited for winter break?” Mike asked softly, tracing shapes into the small of Will’s back, unwilling to go to sleep quite yet. He wanted to max out on conversation with Will, since they didn’t get to talk much during the day.
“Yeah,” Will responded. Mike could feel each word against his shoulder. “I’ll miss my friends, though.”
Mike laughed lightly. “What, am I not enough for you?”
Will lifted up slightly, looking down at Mike through half-asleep, lidded eyes. “You’re always enough for me. You know that.”
Mike softened. God, he was so in love. “I was joking.”
Will laid back down, pushing his nose back into the spot where Mike's shoulder met his neck. “I know,” he mumbled. “I just need to say it. Go to sleep, Mike.” And with that, Will promptly fell asleep.
Despite being the one to campaign for taking a nap, it took Mike another twenty minutes to fall asleep. Will was restless on top of him, breathing heavily against Mike's neck and hooking a leg over Mike's body. Mike rubbed his hands over Will's back, brushing up and down his waist and over his sides. He was so perfect. Mike was insane.
He couldn’t believe, really, that Will would let him just have him like this. They weren’t dating, Mike was painfully aware of that fact, but the domesticity that Will allowed to exist within the dynamic of their friendship was addicting. Mike wouldn’t give it up for the world.
Eventually, he did fall asleep, to will soft breathing and warm weight against him. The world was at peace, at that moment. All was right again.
When Mike woke up, it was dark in his room and his bed was empty. He sat up, blinking away the sleep from his eyes and rubbing at his face with the palm of his hand. A minute later, as if he could sense that Mike had just woken up, Will strode into his room and tossed clothes onto the bed for him.
He was wearing a flowy yellow top, his hair fluffy and paired with little jean shorts that he was bound to get cold in during the chill late November. Mike made a mental note to grab a jacket on the way out for the walk home. His single gold earring was glinting. He looked like temptation itself.
“Wear this,” Will ordered, pointing at the clothes on Mike's bed. “And don’t forget your rings. They match your eyebrow piercing.” With that, he left the room, hips swaying.
Mike groaned and got up, pulling on the shirt Will set on his bed before shucking off his sweatpants and pulling on the jeans. The white shirt was a soft cream in the light, the jeans a deep blue. It was a simple outfit, just the base so Mike could do the accessorizing himself.
Mike registered that Will had made them match. He was really going to die this time.
He slid rings onto his fingers before hooking a simple silver chain around his neck. Will was right, they did match his eyebrow piercing (of which he had gotten as soon as they’d gotten to college, with his father’s money). His parents had been furious when they’d found out, but Mike guilt tripped them with reminders of childhood trauma into letting it go.
Worked every time.
He emerged from his room into the light of the kitchen, pulling on his converse on the way. Will was perched on the kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine they had lying around.
Mike came to stand in front of him, resting his hands on Will's knees and looking up at him. Will dropped the magazine beside him, smiling. Reaching up, he ran his fingers through Mike's curls before arranging them the way he liked. After the party sat him down in senior year, acting as if it were a serious intervention and told him that the side part made him look like his dad, the styling of Mike’s hair fell into Will's hands. Not that Mike was complaining.
When he seemed satisfied, letting his hands fall to Mike's shoulders, Mike reached up and lifted him to the ground. “Ready?” he asked, pulling his hands off Will's body with no lack of effort.
The bar was crowded, packed with beautiful people dancing to loud music or sitting at the counter or leaning up against walls. Mike didn’t look at a single one, because Will outshined them all even just standing there.
“Max!” he squealed, bounding away from Mike and crashing into their friend. Max greeted him with equal amounts of enthusiasm, hugging him tightly to her chest. Lucas and Mike looked on, amused.
“Where’s Dustin?” mike shouted over the pounding music, to which he received merely a shrug from Lucas.
“Probably already drunk,” Lucas responded. Mike nodded in return.
Max and Will, already deep in the throes of whatever conversation was consuming them, suddenly turned to the nearest bartender. “Shots, please,” Max yelled, and Mike sighed.
Will was, to put it simply, a lot of fun when he was drunk. He was sweet and funny and affectionate, and so insanely flirtatious that Mike could hardly handle himself. The thing was, though, he never remembered it in the morning, once the alcohol wore off and he was left with a pounding headache and an aversion to the sunlight.
Mike wondered sometimes, in the back of his mind, that one of the reasons Will refused to go to these nights without Mike was a fear that something would happen to him and he wouldn’t remember in in the morning- it made Mike sad that Will had to worry about that, of course, but a sicker part of him found satisfaction that Will trusted Mike to protect him.
And he would, of course. Mike would rather die than let Will get hurt.
Mike found it difficult to deal with himself when Will was drunk, if only because Will was always dressed in minimal clothing, draping himself all over Mike and acting like they were really dating. It was everything Mike wanted, and everything he couldn’t have.
He loved it. He hated it. He couldn’t get enough.
Lucas, beside him, sighed heavily as he watched Max and Will down their first shot, both of them wincing afterwards. The second went down, then the third, and a fourth followed shortly after. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us,” he said, clapping Mike on the back.
Max, much like Will, was a menace when drunk. However, she was a menace all of the time, and in an infinitely less charming way. Will was endlessly perfect, even when he was severely testing Mike's self restraint.
Mike winced as they ordered another round. “So are our bank accounts.”
Lucas grunted an affirmation.
Out of the blue, a body crashed into Lucas and Mike from behind, swinging their arms around their shoulders. “Dustin, get the fuck off me,” Mike asked, to which Will turned around, frowning.
“Mike, be nice,” he said, words slightly stilted. The alcohol was already getting to him, it seemed. Will stepped forward, wrapping Dustin in a hug briefly. Mike kind of wanted to pull Will off of him and into his arms- he wasn’t super comfortable with all this touching.
“Sorry,” Mike mumbled. He wasn’t sorry.
Another round of shots came and went, and Will got even drunker. “Max,” he drawled, leaning his head on her shoulder. “Dance with me?”
Max, just as drunk, nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, let’s go,” she slurred, grabbing Will's hand and leading them towards the dance floor.
Meanwhile, Dustin leaned on the counter, his head in his hands, groaning. “It’s been like half an hour,” Mike said, while Lucas rubbed his back comfortingly.
“Take it easy, man,” Lucas muttered, and Mike rolled his eyes.
“How does this happen every time we go out?” Mike asked, his eyes tracking Will as he moved across the dance floor, hand in hand with Max.
“Like fucking clockwork,” Lucas said, his eyes trained on his girlfriend.
When Will started dancing, rolling his body to the beat of the music with his hands on Max's shoulders, Mike actually thought he stopped breathing. His body shined in the lights, moving in ways that Mike only thought waves in the ocean could achieve. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back, his mouth open in a laugh- he looked blissful. He looked happy. He looked like he belonged.
Suddenly, Mike sort of felt the urge to cry. He thought of Will when he was just a baby, small and scared under his father’s scrutinizing gaze. He thought of Will as a kid, living through unearthly horrors that nobody should have to endure. He thought of Will as a teenager, suffering and scared in his identity.
And now, Will was thriving and happy and smiling. Mike would trade the world for him to get to live like this for the rest of his life.
Outside of that, Will looked insanely beautiful like this. Maybe it was the happiness- the pure part of Mike told him that the peace he’d finally achieved brought a new light to his face that made him outshine the entire room. The perverted part of Mike, however, acknowledged that it very well might be those tiny little shorts that are drawing Mike's attention. He looked incredible in them, of course, and Mike was addicted to the sight of Will's body when he dolled himself up like this, but Mike also hated how visible he was to everyone else in the room.
Mike wanted to be the only one allowed to see him.
Of course, that was an irrational and downright selfish thought to have about a boy he wasn’t even dating, but Mike couldn’t honestly bring himself to care.
“Fuck,” Lucas cursed beside him, the word coming out breathy and almost like a groan.
For a moment, Mike worried that his eyes were on Will. Logically, they should be, since everyone’s eyes should be on Will, basking in their privilege of getting to exist in his vicinity- but then Mike remembered that Lucas had an objectively pretty girlfriend, also very scantily-clad.
“She’s gorgeous,” Lucas muttered.
Mike hadn’t noticed.
The song switched, and Mike watched as Will and Max turned to each other, squealing with excitement. Apparently they knew this one.
It was surprising how much Will, especially, liked going out and getting drunk and dancing at night, for growing up so shy and geeky. Mike fully expected, going into college, that they would spend all their nights in their apartment reading comics or watching horror movies or playing DnD. While they still did plenty of that, Will had a surprising desire to dress up and go out to bars upwards of one time a week.
Maybe he was trying to make up for the teenage experiences he lost because of the Upside Down. Or, maybe, he was just not a shy little kid anymore. Mike was fine with either.
And Mike liked these nights too, of course, even if he felt like he needed to hype himself up to get out here: Will always seemed so happy, and it was something his friends were all willing to do at the drop of a hat.
Their life was different, undeniably. It had transformed and shaped itself into something Mike wouldn’t have understood or accepted six years ago- but it was good.
The song changed again, and Max and Will stumbled off of the dance floor and towards Lucas and Mike. Lucas caught Max, steadying her with hands on her waist and sitting her down on the stool beside Dustin carefully.
“Mike,” Will slurred, leaning against him heavily, trusting Mike to keep him upright.
“Hey, baby,” Mike said, helping Will onto the stool on the opposite side of Dustin. “You having fun?”
Will nodded, hooking his arms around Mike's neck and pulling Mike to stand between his legs. “I’m all sweaty,” he mumbled, before pushing Mike gently away and staring down at himself. He looked up at Mike, eyes needy and searching. “Do I look gross?” he asked, tone imploring, as if begging Mike to give him the answer he wanted.
Mike cleared his throat. “Of course not.”
Will frowned. “You’re just saying that.” His hands were back on Mike’s chest, and Mike was so distracted.
“No, I'm not,” Mike put a hand on Will's calf, squeezing it gently before helping Will back off the stool and towards where Max was waiting to return to the dance floor. “You look incredible,” he whispered in Will's ear, rubbing a hand over his back as he left.
Mike grew ever more thankful that Will's memory didn’t cover these nights with each passing moment.
“When are you going to ask him out?” Lucas asked bluntly, arms crossed against his chest as he watched Will and Max retreat back onto the dance floor.
Mike groaned. “When are you going to stop asking me?” Lucas, against Mike's will, had found out about Mike's colossal crush on his best friend very shortly after Mike had figured it out himself. He was observant, always had been- when Mike confessed to him, all Lucas said was that it had taken long enough.
It had dimmed the fear of not being accepted by the people he loved to a near minimum. That wasn’t ever super present in Mike's mind, not like he was sure it had been for Will- in a horrible way, Will was kind of like the test subject on whether being queer would be accepted in their circle. As much as Mike wished he could’ve been the first to come out, to make Will feel as safe as possible, the welcoming of Will's sexuality with open arms smoothed out the path for Mike.
Of course, Will could’ve said the most outlandish, horrible things in that room all those years ago and everyone there still would’ve supported him. He was too perfect to do anything else.
Mike himself still wasn’t out to hardly anyone but Lucas and his family, actually- he wanted to tell the others, one day, but he was afraid that would change things between him and Will if he found out there was a chance Mike's actions weren’t entirely rooted in platonic love. It felt like a barrier between them, one Mike needed to keep up if he were to maintain the same dynamic in their friendship.
“Fuck, again,” Mike breathed as Will started to dance again, his hips rolling and body swaying to the beat of the music.
Randomly, Mike thought of the seven minute thing, the thing where you get seven minutes of your happiest memories before your brain fully dies. Mike was convinced his seven minutes would be just this, just Will. Will when he was happy, like this, dancing with their friend and looking so insanely pretty. Will when he was sad and they were kids, in Mike’s arms before everyone started telling them it was weird. Will when he was scared, or disgusted, or laughing, or reading, or simply just sitting around. Whenever Mike was with Will, he was the happiest he’d ever been.
Mike watched, eyebrows raised, as someone in the crowd inched closer to where Will was standing. He was tall, probably a little bit shorter than Mike, and he had a mop of ugly curls on top of his head. Fake, probably. Mike didn’t believe they were actually real. Not like his. Mike’s hand twitched by his side.
He was ugly, to put it plainly. And Mike was really not enjoying how close he was getting to Will.
To be fair, it was a crowded bar, and the dance floor didn’t leave much room for space between people’s bodies, so his proximity to Will could’ve been accidental.
It didn’t seem so accidental when he pressed his chest flush to Will's back, placing a hand on his hip almost possessively.
And that, unsurprisingly, was Mike's breaking point. He stormed onto the dance floor, pushing through the crowd of people and reaching Will in only a couple of seconds. Mike wrapped his arm around Will's waist, pulling him to his chest and pushing at the ugly guy’s chest with his free hand.
“Don’t touch him,” he said, fully aware of how furious he sounded. He didn’t care.
Lucas showed up right then, Max immediately tucking herself under his arm.
The man laughed, and Mike felt the urge to punch him, dimmed by Will squirming in his grip. He looked down at his best friend, actively feeling the anger in him fade into nothing at his drunken expression.
Carefully, with a hand on the small of Will's back, Mike led them off the dance floor and into the nearest bathroom, calling a promise to be back soon over his shoulder to Lucas.
“Mike,” Will whined once they were in the bathroom, petulantly slapping at Mike's chest, not nearly hard enough to hurt. “I wasn’t done dancing.”
Mike sighed, lifting Will onto the sink counter and stepping between his legs, resting his head on Will's shoulder. One of Will's hands found his back, the other sliding into his curls as Mike wrapped his arms around Will's waist. “I know. I’m sorry. Can you just wait a few minutes, so that when we leave that guy will have found someone else to torment?”
Will giggled. “He wasn’t tormenting me. We were just dancing.”
Jealousy spiked through Mike, at the thought of Will not actually hating the attention the ugly guy was giving him. “He obviously wanted to sleep with you,” Mike muttered into the skin of Will's shoulder.
Will laughed again, his nails scratching the skin of Mike's scalp gently. “Would that really be so bad?” he asked, and Mike cursed internally.
Yes. Yes, that would be the worst thing ever.
And, of course, because Will liked to torture him, he continued. “I can’t be a virgin forever, you know. And not that many people really want to sleep with me, so I might as well get it out of the way…” his babbling continued, and Mike really wanted to kiss him to shut him up. He felt kind of sick thinking about Will sleeping with someone else, even if it was as tactical as he was describing it.
Mike wanted to be the only one Will thought about ever.
“Don’t do that,” Mike interrupted, and Will paused his monologue.
“Why?” he asked, voice innocent and naive to Mike's boundary-shaking thoughts.
“Just don’t,” Mike repeated. “Don’t sleep with him.”
Will sighed. “Mike-”
“Don’t.”
“Okay.”
After a few minutes, Will leaned back slowly, pulling away from Mike. Mike mourned the loss of Will's skin under his forehead, the warmth gone and replaced with the humidity of the bathroom air.
Softly, gently, Will cupped Mike's face and ran his thumb over Mike's eyebrow piercing. “I really like this,” he slurred, eyes full of wonder as if he were seeing it for the first time.
“Yeah?” Mike breathed, leaning his face into Will's hand harder.
Will nodded and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the piercing. Mike stopped breathing. “You look so hot,” he mumbled, leaning forward suddenly, and letting Mike catch him against his chest.
“You think so?” Mike asked, with Will tucked into the crook of his neck safely. He nodded against him, and Mike felt him press another tiny kiss to the skin there.
He might have a heart attack, right now.
“Yeah, Mike,” Will breathed. “You look so hot. Especially with the rings.” Will pulled back, holding Mike's hands up in front of his face. He drops them, and points his attention at Mike's neck. “And the necklace. Makes me want you to fuck me so bad.” Will looks up at Mike, a pleading look in his eyes. “If you won’t let anyone else fuck me, will you?”
Mike is so hard it’s not even funny. “You’re drunk,” he mumbles.
Will pouts. “So what?”
“So you’re not going to remember any of this tomorrow, Will.”
Will frowns. “No consequences, then. Come on, Mike.” He drags his hand down Mike's chest, begging. “Please?”
Mike shakes his head. “You’re too drunk, baby.”
Will’s face falls. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Then fuck me.”
“I can’t.”
For some reason, Will looks so inexplicably sad now. “I want to go home.”
Mike feels incredibly guilty. “Are you sure? We can go back out there. You can dance more if you want.”
Will shakes his head. “Bring me home.”
Mike sighs. “Okay.”
The walk home was slow and cold. Mike’s jacket came in clutch, as he’d predicted, and Will was no longer sad like he was in the bathroom- just back to flirtatious. Mike was thrilled he wasn’t miserable anymore, of course, under so circumstances did he want to see Will sad. The flirting was harder for Mike, though, as per usual.
Currently, Will was hanging off his arm, draped in Mike's jacket that was about three sizes too big for him, and whining about his feet hurting.
“We’re almost home,” Mike mumbled, continuing the plot forward as quickly as possible.
Will stopped in his tracks and wiggled off his heels that Mike wasn’t sure why he’d worn in the first place. He looked fantastic, of course, they made his legs look far longer than usual, but he had this issue every time.
He wouldn’t remember it, though, so he continued to make this mistake.
“Will, you’re not wearing socks,” Mike said gently. “You can’t walk on the sidewalk without socks on.”
“Then give me your socks,” Will pouted, still very clearly drunk.
Mike sighed, leaned down and ordered Will to climb onto his back. Will obliged.
“Come back,” Will ordered, as Mike went to leave Will's bedroom and go to his own.
Mike obeyed, watching Will start to wiggle out of his clothes. Mike averted his eyes, blushing. “What is it?” he asked, really needing to leave before something drastic happened.
“You can look,” Will sighed. Mike did, and immediately looked away again. Will wasn’t wearing a shirt- Mike didn’t have enough time to see the rest of him, but he could assume by Will's giggling that he wasn’t any better on the bottom half of his body.
“Put on clothes, Will,” he said, the flush not fading from his cheeks in the slightest.
“What, you don’t like what you see?”
“That’s not what I said,” Mike mumbled.
When he turned around, after much rustling, Will was appropriately dressed. He was back into his clothes from their nap earlier during the day. “Go ahead, change,” Will ordered, not pulling his eyes away from Mike's face.
“I have to go back to my room to do that.”
Will smirked. “No you don’t.” He tossed Mike a pair of his own boxers from his drawer, still staring.
“Turn around,” Mike said. “Turn around, and I won't have to leave.”
Will sighed heavily, and turned his face to point the other direction.
Quickly, Mike changed, and slipped into the bed beside Will. Will turned, immediately climbing on top of Mike and laying down on him completely.
“Jesus, Will,” Mike grumbled. “What have you been eating, bricks?”
Will lifted his head, frowning. “Are you calling me fat?”
Fuck. “No, of course not,” Mike said quickly, rushing to amend his mistake. “It was a joke. I’m sorry, baby, you’re not fat-”
“Mike-”
“You’re perfect, Will, you have to believe me-”
“Mike-”
“I’m so sorry-”
Laughing, Will reached his hand up and pressed it over Mike's mouth, shutting him up. “I know you don’t think that, Mike, you’ve been hard against me all night.” Mike’s eyes widened. “It’s okay, I won't remember this in the morning anyway.” Will yawned. “Unless you want me to take care of that for you.”
Mike shook his head.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Goodnight, Mike.”
Will buried his face in Mike's neck, pressing a gentle kiss there, and fell asleep.