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Ever since he woke up, letting his hazel eyes stare forward to his popcorn ceiling, the weather was set on betraying him. The hair on his arms rose, it was drizzling when he made himself breakfast, and as he was pulling his sneakers on, it was pouring. He felt the storm abruptly, stirring inside his mind, seeping into his veins, twisting around his heart.
His eyes sunk, and he watching his very sleepy boyfriend quirk his head at him. Micheal knew, he had always known. He had known the night before, as he rosely crossed November 5th off of their shared calendar, and calmly shared a look with Will. He let Will smile, nod and reassure him. He was lying. Micheal knew from the start. The weather wasn't promising or kind to him on that day and it certainly would not be now. Despite this, Will had a watercolor lesson at 8:00 am. His routine kept him stable, so he pulled his shoes on, and assumed bravery, kept his face stiff.
Will didn't like thinking of it. He wholeheartedly believed he could fulfill the rest of his days without having to think about IT. Although that isn't how his brain functioned, not how it operated.
He would kiss his adoring boyfriend at the door, solemnly walk on autopilot because his brain drifted. In fact, he didn't remember getting on the train, paying the fair. He didn't remember sitting down, and he couldn't recall a word that may had been said to him from the moment he stepped away from the warmth of his apartment, his bed, his lover.
The train atmosphere was cruel, Will let his head drop onto the angry, cold bar of the train's deck. A gust of wind swooped over his body, danced along his collarbone like it had something to prove, like it's existence wasn't present enough. It was the lack human in it's touch that he noticed first. He felt the roots planted themselves deep into his heels, but the blood failed to arrive, leaving him with only a sensation driven by pure brainpower and memories.
"William.." It sung to him, trailing it's touch, a touch of the ghost of a shadow. It twisted into something d his doubt, his fear, his anger. It preyed on it, and that only made the vines prick harder, made them enter his flesh just that much deeper. It's tone was harsh, holding that inhuman edge it had always held.
Further, the vines sucked it's power into his skin. Will felt them creep. He knew he must of called out for Micheal by now. Atlas, it was to no use. Micheal may have consistently consumed his mind but he couldn't possess him. He wasn't there. He knew his voice must have been weak, coarse, and desperate. All he could do was stare towards his legs, as the vines unrighteously claimed his skin oh to cruelly.
He can hardly remember getting off the train, only that he knew that he had to. It was although the weeds were ruefully forcing him to his knees. In reality, it was the lack of oxygen he was taking. The dots in the corner of his vision became an untamed border. Will collapsed onto a bus bench. He felt warmth at his palms, and looked forward. Only to see the eyes of the man he loved.
Micheal had been waiting for an hour. His car parked along the side walk. The warmth of the car's heat making his chest feel lighter. He inhaled gently through his nose. His hand held the door and with a swift pull, he was standing outside. The cool November air wrapping around him, consuming him so entirely.
His watch read 1:00pm. Will should have arrived home hours ago. His lesson was done, he should have gone and returned by now and since he hasn't, Mike had driven to the bus stop. He stood himself by the bus stop. Peering at his wrist, the time. He considered ringing Will, he shifted around some quarters in his jacket pocket, considering walking himself to the nearest gas station.
What stopped him from doing so, however, was the visual of what was presumably Will's bus approaching the bus stop. His lips quirked up. He would take his boyfriend to his car. Kiss him hello. He was giddy. The concern subsiding. That relief vanished the moment Will stumbled out, his arm shooting out to stop his fall. Will toppled onto the bus bench. He was hyperventilating. Sweating through his jacket. Trembling.
Mike looked in his eyes, watched his pupils shrink in fear. Mike ran a hand up his arm, squeezing enough to show him that he was there. Will was muttering, his mind and soul elsewhere.
"Push off. Don't touch me."
Mike understood he wasn't in the right state of mind. He dropped his arm into his lap. His eyes softening as he realized what was happening. The timid tone of voice was eating him raw and alive.
Mike ever so slowly showed Will his hands. Without saying a word, he began taking deep exuberant breathes through his nose, holding, and exhaling out of his mouth. Eventually, Will mimicked his breathing, reaching out to grab Mike's hands that he did not see, but knew were kindly waiting for him. The hands that only ever made him feel safe, the hands that would never cause him harm.
Mike gave a stern nod, but his eyes were soft. He stood, supporting Will. Will was regaining cohesion slowly. He felt his legs stiff, and loosen as he finally began to walk along with Mike.
Mike rubbed his arms. Supporting almost the entirety of his body weight. "I got you. Do you hear me? S' gonna be okay, Will." Mike reassured, unsure if he could even hear him.
Will nodded, to Mike's surprise. Mike opened his passenger door and sat Will down. He was glad for the left over heat, as he got in the driver's seat and started the vehicle. No music played, no speaking. Just Mike's gentle understanding, silent comfort.
When they arrived at their apartment. He didn't move right away. He spoke quiet, laying out a plan. Micheal had always been so organized, such a leader. And in this moment he needed his partner to understand how this night would work. He peered over at him, Will was breathing at a regular pace. Still shaken, but calmer than he was before.
"Okay. We're going to go inside. I'm going to make us food, and heat up some pajamas for you. Than we're going to go to bed, and we'll talk when you're ready."
Mike intentionally did not mention showering. He knew that Will liked to bathe after a long day, but he also knew he would not want to take off of his clothes. He reached over, and gently squeezed Will's hand, before exiting the car and rushing to open his door.
Mike snaked around the vehicle, and assisted Will in standing. They walked in silence, with Mike's concerning glances and Will's uneven breath. Mike fiddled with the key, slipping it through his fingers before unlocking the door. He immediately walked Will to the couch, sat him down. He bent down, swooped the hair from his eyes and kissed his forehead. He whispered sweet nothings into his skin, drenched with sweat and terror.
The color was returning to Will's face. His lips curved up, eyes squinting. His smile was contagious, because Micheal couldn't refuse letting out a giddy laugh. With a promise that he would soon return he headed for the bedroom. He approached the dresser, pulling out a flannel pajama set, fuzzy lined socks, and boxers. Mike tucked the set under his arm, and began setting them on the heater, cranking up the heat. He did so while watching Will snuggle into the decorative pillows on their sofa, Mike was so in love with him, so absolutely in love with him.
Will blinked, and watched as Mike crouched next to him, taking his hands in his, stroking the soft skin.
"Do you want to shower? I'd help you." Mike suggested, ever so gently. But Will found himself shaking his head, muttering disapproval at the mere suggestion.
"I don't want to. I don't want to take my.. clothes off." Will declared, taking a hesitant breath. As if Mike would hex him at the thought. Because why wouldn't he? Mike is so kind to him, even when Will strongly believed he did not deserve it.
"We don't have to. You should put on more comfortable clothes to sleep. How about we just change your shirt, and socks?" Mike offered kindly. The love in his eyes overpowering whatever insecurities that were circulating around Will's dome.
Will nodded but made no attempt to slip out of his button up. He let Mike pull the buttons out of their holes, removing it from his skin. Will shivered at the lack of contact, but Mike was immediately pulling a warm flannel sleep shirt over his head.
Mike untied his laces, pulling off his sneakers like a man on a mission. He slipped his socks off, and replaced them with the ones waiting for him on the heater. He reached for his hands and helped him up. That's when the soft voice, only reserved for him, returned to his lips.
"We're going to bed. I'm taking you to bed." Mike confirmed, and it was less of a order, and more so just making sure Will knew where they would be residing.
Mike laid Will down. Tucking the blanket over his collarbones, and brushing the hair from him eyes. He made quick work of fluffing his pillow. He was determined to get something into him. He propped the pillow up, and squeezed his hand.
"M' gonna make you tea. Be right back. You'll be able to see me from the bed, yeah? Right back, baby." Mike reassured. Will had always been bigger on nicknames than Mike had, but he knew they brought him comfort. It came naturally, Will was his baby. He rose, and walked himself to the kitchen, starting a kettle of water. He prepped a mug, and some sugar, honey, and chamomile. After three minutes, the water was sufficiently heated. He poured water into the spacious mug, and put the tea bag in. He stirred a teaspoon worth of sugar into the mixture following it with honey. Will usually drank his tea black, but their was far to much caffeine in that, and he needed rest.
Mike brought it to him, once he concluded that it was cool enough. He encouraged him to take a sip. Will finished the cup in only a few minutes, and was instructed to lay down.
Mike pulled the comforter over his frame. "Can I hold you?" Was the only question asked, after thirty minutes of silence. Will nodded graciously, and Mike brought him into his arms. It was usually the other way around, but this is not only what he wanted, but what he needed.
Will's sharp breathes returned to a healthy pace, as he melted into his lovers arms. Micheal didn't understand all of the complexity, he would when he explained it. For now, the two were equally satisfied with laying down, feeling eachothers body heat.
Will made mental note to explain what he could to Mike about the PTSD attack in the morning, but for now, he let his eyelids fall heavy, and let his body melt into Mikes'.