Archive of Our Own ^beta

Mike slammed his book shut with a yawn and shoved back his chair from his desk.

“Ok I can’t do any more work tonight. Which means you can’t do any more work tonight because otherwise I’ll feel guilty.”

He turned to look over at Will, who was still scribbling in a notebook at his desk. He was wearing grey sweats and a white t shirt, and he looked unspeakably cute. Mike could also see the small muscles in Will’s forearm twitch as he wrote, which had much more of an effect on Mike than it probably should have.

“How’s your paper coming?” Mike said, getting up from his chair and meandering over to bother Will. Will grinned a little at his paper but kept writing.

“Almost done, last few sentences.”

Mike came up behind Will and put a hand on each arm of his chair, leaning over Will’s shoulder to look at his work.

“…lack of representational clarity that is characteristic of abstract expressionism…” he read out loud. Will knocked his head back on Mike’s shoulder in protest.

“Cut it out,” Will chuckled. “Just because I’m bullshitting it doesn’t mean I didn’t work hard, ok?”

“Doesn’t sound like bullshit to me,” Mike said honestly. Will was really smart, and Mike would bet whatever Will thought was bullshit was probably still far more thoughtful than anything he could come up with. He smirked a little though, not above having some fun. He leaned his face close to Will’s neck and murmured intimately. “I also think that expressive… abstraction is characteristically…” He pressed a kiss. “Representational.” He pressed another kiss. Then another. “Definitely agree with you there.” Will kept writing as Mike kissed his neck but his arm slowed, and his head pressed back into Mike’s shoulder. He was shuddering.

“Mike,” Will laughed a little breathlessly. “I need to finish this.”

“Go right ahead,” Mike smirked into his neck. “Just cheering you on.”

Will sighed with pleasure, still bravely making marks on the paper.

“Their influence proved to be… ah…” He spoke the words to himself as he wrote them, trying to focus himself (though obviously struggling, with Mike picking a tender spot on his neck and beginning to suck). “…Proved to be profound and monumental, forever altering the trajectory of the movement,” he powered through, getting quicker and quicker. He tossed his pencil down so that it bounced dramatically on the desk, then spun around. “Ok done. C’mere.” He grabbed Mike’s face in his hands and planted a desperate, searing kiss on Mike’s lips.

Mike shivered, taking fistfuls of Will’s t-shirt to pull him out from his sitting position. Will complied, turning his body to kneel on the seat of the chair and kiss Mike over the back of it. Mike then started licking into Will’s mouth, which seemed to alert Will to the fact that their current situation was not nearly satisfactory, and he immediately got off the chair and pulled Mike on top of him onto his bed. Mike happily crawled between his legs and, if possible, they began to make out even more furiously, hands running over each other hungrily.

It had been several weeks since Mike and Will had their first kiss and Mike had realized that he definitely didn’t like girls and definitely, definitely liked guys. Since then, Mike had tried to be cool about it, but also had taken any opportunity he could to kiss Will, which Will seemed to be pretty happy about. It had become somewhat a part of their roommate traditions; they would go over what had happened during their days, complain about tests or crabby professors while sharing candy they’d bought earlier in the day from the cafeteria, then fall into Will’s bed, a tangle of limbs and laughter and lips that sometimes still tasted like Skittles.

Mike had never been happier.

The one problem was that that was all it was. They were great friends like had been before, and now they kissed sometimes. Which was amazing! And Mike loved it!

But with the sudden rush of self-insight his first kiss with Will had incited, he was now able to recognize that he didn’t just see Will as someone he liked to kiss. Will was sweet, and smart, and funny, and genuine, and kind (on top of, of course, being really attractive). Making Will laugh felt like winning an award and making Will feel better after a bad day suddenly became Mike’s mission in life as soon as he saw Will come into their room with anything that resembled a frown. Mike actively looked forward to seeing Will every day with this little fluttering in his chest, whether or not they would be kissing when they saw each other.

He was totally falling for Will, if not was already all-the-way-fallen.

But did Will feel the same way about him? They hadn’t talked about feelings or anything like that, and Mike didn’t want to jeopardize their friendship in any way or make Will feel uncomfortable. Will probably hooked up with guys all the time, just because they had chemistry didn’t mean Will felt anything about him. This arrangement was a great one, and Mike figured it was too soon to talking about feelings, let alone that one outrageously crazy word that kept popping up in his mind.

And so it wasn’t a problem! Not at all! Except in moments like this, when Mike’s body was pressed up against Will’s and he was so inexplicably high off of the feeling of Will’s lips on his and the sound of Will gasping between kisses. Because this type of moment was a gateway for Mike going too far; if things got to be any more intimate than this, he would lose all his inhibitions and… say things.

He was already in dangerous territory as Will pressed even closer.

Will laced his fingers in Mike’s hair and squeezed Mike’s hips between his legs.

“I-I… God, Will. You’re so…” Mike breathed. He surged forward into another kiss before he could say anything stupid. Will began bucking his hips up and Mike couldn’t help but match the motion, rolling his hips down.

Both boys gasped.

And now Mike was rocking his hips desperately against Will’s, and he knew this was so different than anything he’d ever felt before, and the boy beneath him was so beautiful and lovely and everything Mike never even knew he’d wanted, and he knew they’d only known each other for less than a year and it was way too early to think about that stupid word he kept thinking about but honestly that’s what it felt like…

He suddenly slowed his movement to a stop and then lowered his head into the crook of Will’s neck. He could tell Will was surprised at him stopping but he felt Will’s hands adjust to hold him around his back.

“You okay?” Will asked, still catching his breath.

“Yea! Yea, yea of course. Just-just tired. I should probably sleep soon,” Mike said, hating every word as he said it. It was such an obvious lie, and he hated lying to Will. He wondered if Will would call him on it, and what he could say.

Because of his dilemma, Mike had been doing this a lot the past few weeks, stopping their make out sessions short; they hadn’t even kissed shirtless yet. Will was always perfectly understanding, giving constant unspoken assurances that they could go as slow as Mike wanted, though Mike could tell Will wouldn’t have been opposed to moving things forward even a little bit. And little did Will know, Mike was also anything but opposed to it, and he wished he could tell him that, but…

It’s not like he could explain that he knew that if he got any more turned on then he would probably lose control and start saying things that he shouldn’t say. Calling Will baby. Spurting things like God, Will, you’re so beautiful. I think about you all the time. I can’t believe you’re mine.

I love you.

Because Will wasn’t his, and Mike didn’t know if that was something Will would even be interested in. Let alone…

Let alone anything to do with love.

Despite his obvious lie, Will didn’t say anything, just stroked Mike’s back as he lay there. After a few seconds of catching his breath against Will’s neck, Mike propped himself up to give Will a little smile and one last kiss before rolling off of him and climbing onto his own bed, like he did after every make out session. He knew that cuddling was also not going to do wonders for his verbal self-restraint, so he made sure never to stay too long in Will’s arms, no matter how mind-bendingly heavenly it was.

“Goodnight,” he said awkwardly, pulling the chain on his desk lamp because slipping under the covers.

“’Night, Mike.” Will also turned off his lamp, casting the room into darkness.

Mike stared up at the ceiling, trying not to think about the fact that he was still hard and that he had willinglyseparated his body from the absolutely beautiful boy that lay only 10 feet away from him in the dark.

But he’d had to. He knew he had to. It was better to do this than to rush it and make Will uncomfortable and ruin everything.

So he forced his eyes closed and made a note to look up abstract expressionism at the library in case Will was interested in it and wanted to talk about it some time.

…

“What’s wrong with you?”

Mike raised his eyebrows at Max over their cafeteria pasta.

“Do you always have to be so charming?” he asked before taking a bite. Max snorted.

“You know me,” she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes. “But seriously. You’re uncharacteristically quiet today, you’d usually be jabbering on about… something annoying.”

“Well shouldn’t you be celebrating then?” Mike poked his fork around on his plate, avoiding the little strings of broccoli.

Max sighed, flipping some of her red hair over her shoulder.

“Yes, but all good things must come to an end. Now tell me. I don’t have all day, Wheeler.”

Mike glanced up at her. He and Max had been in the same friend group in high school and, despite always having this bickering dynamic, had stayed close friends in college. He hadn’t told his friends about his sexuality realization yet (let alone about his situation with Will), but part of him wondered if now was as good a time as any. He knew Max would not make it an easy conversation, but only because she would probably think that he was a complete idiot for not realizing it sooner (which may or may not be a fair judgement, regardless of how annoying.)

He shrugged. “Um. I don’t know. I guess I…” He scrunched his face. “I need advice.”

Max raised an eyebrow. She leaned back in her chair and took a sip from her glass. “Okay. Shoot.”

Mike put down his fork and leaned forward a little, looking around. “Um. When is it too soon to tell someone you, like, have feelings for them?”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Like how soon into dating?”

“More like… how soon into making out for a few weeks?” Mike cringed.

A devilish grin spread across Max’s face. “Wheeler oh my God, did that girl from your English class change her mind or something? Is it love?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “No, Max. Someone else. Just answer the question.”

Max scoffed. “C’mon, I need more information than that.”

“Like?” Mike threw up his hands.

“Like how long have you known the person, does it seem like they like you back, how often are you kissing, have you gone on a date…” Max looked at him expectantly.

Mike looked around at the dining hall again, feeling uncomfortable. “Um. I mean… I’ve known them a while, we haven’t gone on a date, and I don’t know if he likes me back, I mean—” Mike realized his slip up and covered his mouth. A light of realization illuminated Max’s eyes. Her trademark grin came back to her face. She leaned forward conspiratorially.

“It’s your roommate, isn’t it.”

Mike felt a cold pang shoot through his chest. He gulped, staring at Max.

“H-how did you…?”

Max rolled her eyes, still smiling. “Oh c’mon. He’s cute. And, I mean, he’s way too good for you but I’ve seen the way he looks at you, it’s painfully obvious. And you two do have a little too much chemistry than is normal for…” She gestured with her hands. “You know. I didn’t think you’d figure it out for a long time, but hey, good for you.”

Mike furrowed his eyebrows. “You didn’t think I’d figure it out?”

Max shrugged with a smirk. “I mean, you didn’t realize it when you were Jane in middle school, even though it seemed pretty obvious to me you weren’t into her. And then that one night senior year you said that ‘anyone in their right mind’ would think Harrison Ford was hot and it had nothing to do with being gay. So you seemed pretty deep in denial.”

“Shut up.” Mike blushed and went back to angrily stabbing at his pasta.

“So you like like Will, huh? Not just messing around?”

Mike took a deep breath. “Yea. But I’m really scared of like, scaring him off. It’s only been a few weeks—”

“I think you should tell him,” Max stated firmly. She leaned forward on her elbows. “Let’s face it. You didn’t realize it until two weeks ago, but you’ve probably liked him since orientation week, and I think it’s pretty clear he’s also been head over heels for you but been pushing it down because he knew you thought you were straight. So why drag it out any longer? Just do it.”

“But what if it’s too fast? What if you’re wrong, and-and I screw it up? We live together you know.”

Max checked her watch and began piling her napkins on her plate. “I’m never wrong, Wheeler. You should know this by now. But it’s your choice. If he’s not saying anything either, then it probably wouldn’t hurt to wait a little.” She shrugged. “Or, maybe he’s secretly thinking the same thing as you but doesn’t want to push the guy who just realized he liked guys three weeks ago to go too fast. And so he’s secretly pining for you and it’s killing him inside, wondering if you’re just using him, and he’s burning alive with eternal passion and—”

“Ok, got it, enough.” Mike rolled his eyes as she snorted. She got up from the table, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and grabbed her mostly empty plate.

“I’ll see you. Let me know what happens, ok?”

Mike nodded, leaning back in his chair in thought.

She paused for a second. “And I’m happy for ya,” she said, a little awkward in her effort to be genuine. She roughly rustled his hair with her free hand. “Don’t mess this up. He’s a catch.”

Mike giggled as he tried to evade her hand. “Yea, yea, okay. I’m a catch too, you know.”

Max gave her final snort of the conversation. “Alright. Whatever you say. Who am I to contradict what Mommy Wheeler told you years ago as she buttoned up your Gap shirts.”

Before Mike could literally kill her, Max skipped away happily, and Mike was left alone to spiral even further into his indecision.

Would Mike mess it up by saying something to Will? Or was he already messing it up by not saying something?

He flicked some of the pasta sauce from his fork onto his plate with a splat, then sighed.

It was going to be a long day.

…

It was later that afternoon, and Mike had just gotten back from the library. He was sitting on his bed with a textbook opened across his knees. Will was in the bathroom down the hallway getting ready for a dinner hosted by the art department, and Mike was trying to focus on the words on the page and not on the fact that his favorite person in the world was going to walk back into the room any second now.

Yea, ok, Mike had really, really it bad. There wasn’t much he could do about it.

Will did in fact walk back into the room fairly soon, and it took all of Mike’s strength not to melt into a Mike-shaped puddle on his sheets.

Will was always very attractive, whether in his sweats or in his typical flannels and khakis. His hair always fell perfectly without needing to style it and his soft eyes and sweet smile had powerful magic-like effects on Mike, so it came as a surprise that Will could do something to his appearance that would make Mike even more of a mess than he usually was around him. But here Will was, casually strolling back into the room in slacks, a blue button up shirt, and a black suit jacket with his hair lightly combed back.

Mike suddenly felt his cheeks grow pink and a good portion of his breath somehow evaporate from his body.

He looked down quickly, so as not to make Will feel uncomfortable by staring.

Will moved to put away his clothes and toiletries then turned shyly toward Mike.

“So? How do I look?” Will walked toward him a little, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Does it look like I’m trying too hard? I usually hate wearing this kind of stuff but my mom said on the phone that it would be expected, so.”

Mike looked up and allowed his eyes to drink in the way the slacks cinched perfectly at Will’s waist, the way his shoulders looked so broad and sharp in the jacket, the way his hair was slicked perfectly out of his face, accentuating his jawline and framing his eyes. Mike tried to think of something, anything to say, his mind and face suddenly completely blank.

Oh my god you’re perfect. You’re so handsome, I actually can’t breathe. I could look at you forever. Can I kiss you right now?

Mike cleared his throat.

“Uh, yea, yea. Definitely seems appropriate for a dinner,” he managed. He tried to force a friendly smile, and Will quirked his lips upward politely in response.

“Cool,” Will said. Mike couldn’t help but notice a sudden lack of energy in Will’s demeanor, but wasn’t sure what to say or do about it. “Um, I have a few minutes, actually, if, um…” Will hesitantly made his way over to Mike’s bed and sat down on the edge, facing him. They hadn’t kissed on Mike’s bed since their first kiss a few weeks ago, and Mike suddenly felt overwhelmed and a little scared, like he was on the edge of a windy cliff with nothing to hold onto. Like if he let down his guard even a little bit, he might just pour his heart out all over Will and irreparably stain his suit jacket.

Will was leaning forward a little, but then stopped, noticing Mike’s lack of reciprocation.

“We don’t have to, though. Sorry, I, um,” He leaned back, blinking a little. Mike wanted to throw his textbook off his lap and surge forward to throw his arms around him, but instead he swallowed it down.

“No, um, don’t be sorry,” Mike murmured, still feeling stunned. He gently shifted forward, putting his book on his desk beside his bed and then planting a little kiss on Will’s cheek. “I, uh, need to go to the bathroom. But have fun, ok? Tell me how it goes after.”

Mike crawled off the bed past Will without letting himself look at him anymore. He made his way to the door.

“Ok, yea.” Will quickly got up from Mike’s bed. “My friend is having a party after so I’ll be back late.”

Mike threw him a smile then beelined out the door. In the bathroom he sat on a closed toilet lid, looking down at his feet and sighing.

This was a mess.

This was gonna kill him.

He needed to do something.

He wasn’t sure yet what, though.

…

Maybe four hours later, Mike was lying back on his bed when he heard voices outside the door. He sat up as the door swung open, revealing Will being held up by one of Will’s friends named Dustin who Mike had met once before.

“Alright, c’mon, just a few more steps,” Dustin said firmly, shuffling inside with an arm around Will. Will’s knees were bending as he stumbled in, giggling a little as he swayed side to side.

“Hey, what happened?” Mike said, shooting up out of bed to help.

“Mike! Mike’s here, Dustin,” Will said, slurring his words a little. Mike took Will’s other arm and helped Dustin lead Will to his bed.

“Hey Mike,” Dustin said with a grin. “He got a little carried away at our friend’s party, but he should be fine.”

Mike nodded, though his eyebrows furrowed a little. Will never drank, as far as he knew, but he decided now was not a good time to try and bring that up.

“Thanks for bringing him home,” Mike said. They lay Will back on his pillows.

“Yea, thanks Dustin,” Will said slowly. “Sorry, I swear, I usually never drink. Never.”

Dustin smiled and gave Will’s head a little pat. “I know, bud.”

“You do?” Will cocked his head.

“Yea, you told me about 6 times coming back here.” He chuckled. “I have to get going but I’ll see you soon, okay? Feel better.”

Mike thanked Dustin again and then soon it was him and Will alone in the room. He sat at the foot of Will’s bed and began untying his dress shoes.

“Hi Mike,” Will said. Whatever product he’d used in his hair earlier had worn off and it was now flopping in his eyes. “How are you?”

Mike chuckled a little. “I’m fine, Will. Are you okay?”

“Yea,” Will sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “I never drink, usually, I promise.”

Mike paused for a moment. “Why did you? The art department dinner was that bad?”

Will laughed a little harder than the joke deserved. “No, no, the dinner was fine. I was just sad, you know? Sometimes you just get sad, and then at parties they tell you not to be sad and so I was trying not to be sad.” He covered his eyes with his hands. “It kinda worked for a while, but now I’m just tired.”

Mike was finished taking off Will’s shoes and got up to put them in their closet. He came back with Will’s sweats and t-shirt.

“Do you wanna put these on?” Mike asked gently, holding them up.

“I don’t know if I can,” Will chuckled. “I’m pretty floppy.” He demonstratively flopped his arms a few times on the bed.

“I can help you,” Mike said shyly, sitting on the bed again.

Will raised his eyebrows. Mike wondered if he’d crossed a line and blushed a little.

“Really? Are you sure?” Will said.

Mike nodded. “Of course. You don’t want to sleep in your jacket. Here,” he said, taking Will by the shoulders and helping him sit up. He then began carefully trying to help Will out of his jacket.

“Wow. Thank you, Mike.” The gravity of Will’s words caught Mike off guard. He frowned as he coaxed Will’s other arm out of the sleeve.

“It’s nothing. Why are you so surprised?” He placed the jacket on Will’s desk chair and then began on the buttons on Will’s shirt.

“I mean,” Will lolled his head a little in thought. “I mean I know you don’t normally want to undress me,” he snickered. “You never want to want to see me like that. Which is totally fine, of course, I only want to do what you want to do, Mike, you know that, right?”

Mike blushed as he finished unbuttoning Will’s shirt, causing his chest was exposed. He focused on pulling it off of Will’s back and then draping it next to the jacket. He quickly grabbed Will’s t-shirt and pulled it on his head, doing his best to keep his eyes on his task and not on Will’s broad chest and defined shoulders.

“You want to take things slow,” Will continued on, unphased by Mike’s lack of comment. “You want things to be casual. Which is perfectly fine. Perfect-ly. Perfectly.” The word seemed to get caught in Will’s mouth and he was focused on getting it correct before moving on. “You just figured out you liked boys! Of course you want to go slow. And it’s not like the first boy you kiss is going to be the one, you know…”

Mike’s eyes grew wide. He finished helping Will tug on the t shirt and then moved to take off Will’s socks. What did this mean? What was he talking about?

He’s drunk, Mike. People say stupid shit when they’re drunk.

He draped the socks on the chair and then started to unbutton Will’s slacks. He kept his head down and tried not to think about it too much as he pulled them down off of Will’s ankles, still not able to say anything.

“And if I’m just an experiment, you know, then that’s okay with me. We’ve all gotta experiment. And if I can do that for you, be that for-for you, then I want to. God, Mike, I never drink, you gotta believe me, this is so weird,” Will giggled. “I’m not normally like this. I promise.”

Mike quickly worked through changing Will into his sweats, slipping on one pant leg at a time then lifting him up to get the sweats over his hips.

“I know, Will,” he managed weakly. “It’s okay.”

He found he couldn’t say anything else. He didn’t know what was happening; was this Will saying he wanted to go further than kissing? Or that he wanted something more than just physical? None of it was clicking in Mike’s brain, and besides, again, people say stupid shit when they’re drunk. It probably meant nothing anyway.

Now that Will was in his pajamas, Mike moved to sit near the head of the bed to help Will shift from sitting up to lying down. He put his hands on Will’s waist, but before he could do anything, Will had surged forward into a sloppy kiss. Even sloppy and tasting like cheap beer, Will’s lips were hypnotizing to Mike, and he allowed himself a few moments before pulling away gently.

“Hey, hey, just rest okay? You’ve had a long night,” Mike said. He pulled on his waist to shift Will into a lying position on his pillows

“But if I don’t kiss you, you’ll leave,” Will said quietly.

Mike furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

Will grabbed Mike’s arm. “You always leave,” he whispered, looking pleadingly up at Mike. “We kiss and then you leave. Kiss and then leave. You never stay here with me.”

Mike felt something drop heavily in his chest. He felt his eyes get a little wet. He swallowed it back.

“I’ll stay, Will.” He turned off their lamps and then carefully crawled over Will to lie between him and the wall. “You don’t have to kiss me for me to stay.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to stay,” Will said, lolling his head over to look at Mike. “I get that you don’t want me like I want you, you know, it’s okay. It’s an experiment, I’m an experiment.” The word experiment sounded like a word that he had never said before, and even saying it was an experiment for Will.

Mike’s mouth fell open, looking over at Will in the dark.

“I-I want you, Will,” he croaked, unable to bring to mind any of the things he knew needed to be said. His entire mind seemed to have stepped out for a minute.

Will smiled a little. “Not like I want you,” he said, turning his head to face the ceiling again. “I want too much. I don’t just wanna kiss you. I mean I wanna kiss you, I really really like doing that. But I wanna be yours, I want you to be my boyfriend. You’re the only boy I’ve wanted to my boyfriend before.” He giggled a little. “I’ve liked you this whole time, did you know that?” he whispered, like a gossipy secret. “This whole time. And I never told you because I was so scared.” The last word came so faintly it almost made no sound. He turned to look at Mike again. “But that’s too much. You don’t want me like that and that’s okay, Mike, I’m okay.”

In the emptiness of Mike’s aching, overwhelmed brain, a thought appeared.

“Is that why you were drinking, Will?”

Will grinned a little sheepishly. “I thought you were gonna say something about how I looked in my dress clothes. And then I asked you and you didn’t really care. Which makes sense, I mean I look the same as always, I just look like Will. And it’s not like that, between us, that’s too much.” He bit his lip. “But then you didn’t want to kiss me, and I thought maybe it’s over, maybe you don’t even want to do that anymore and I screwed all of this up and now you were going to hate me forever and I couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole night and Mike I swear I never drink, you know I don’t, I’m not usually like this.” He yawned. “But it doesn’t matter because I just want you to be happy. Whatever makes you happy, Mike, you know that, right?”

Mike felt his heart was just about break. The pain in his chest and throat suddenly seemed to kickstart his brain again. He spurred into action, raising his hands to cup Will’s face, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs.

“Will, you make me happy, okay? You. I want you too. I really do.” He felt a tear roll down his face. “And you looked fucking gorgeous tonight,” he whispered, eyes scanning Will’s face. “I was just too much of a wimp to say it. But you were fucking beautiful. You’re always beautiful, Will. Okay?”

Will’s eyes were fluttering closed sleepily. “I’ve liked you this whole time,” he repeated with a small smile.

“Yeah? Well I think maybe I have too,” Mike chuckled a little sadly, still stroking his face.

“Ok but Mike, I swear, you gotta know, I never drink, I’m not nor—”

“I know,” Mike laughed, pressing a kiss onto Will’s cheek and then his forehead. “I know, Will. I see you every day, I know what you’re normally like. It’s okay.” Mike had been propping himself up on his elbow but now lowered his head to the pillow. He wrapped his arms around Will, holding him close to his chest.

“Okay. I’m falling asleep, Mike, is that okay?”

Mike smiled, closing his eyes. “Yea baby, that’s okay. Goodnight.” The pet name had just slipped out, but he found that he didn’t mind.

“Baby,” Will murmured sleepily. “You mean me?”

“Yea. Now go to bed.” Mike kissed his head.

“Okay,” Will whispered. Then his breathing slowed into that sleep rhythm, and Mike buried his face in Will’s hair, thinking that holding Will as he slept might be the best thing he’d ever been able to do.

…

Mike opened his eyes the next morning to see Will sitting up, the Saturday sunlight streaming in through the cracks in their shades.

Will looked over at Mike’s empty bed then turned to look back at Mike with squinted eyes, clearly still not fully woken up yet.

“Mike?” he croaked. He rubbed his eyelids, as if Mike was a figment of his imagination.

Mike gazed up at Will. He couldn’t help from smiling a little bit, though he felt fairly sure Will would not remember anything from last night.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” he said, not bothering to move yet.

“Mmph,” Will grunted, rubbing his temples. “This is why I never drink.”

“So I’ve heard,” Mike grinned. “Do you remember anything?”

Will swung his legs over the bed and leaned forward on his hands, preparing to get up. “Um,” he said. He scratched his head before pushing off the bed. “The dinner was boring. The party was fine, though I drank too much. Then someone took me back here I think, right? Dustin. I need to apologize to him.” He made his way over to their closet and grabbed clothes to bring to the bathroom. “And to you, probably,” he threw a shy smile back at Mike. “Um, why were you…?” His eyes glanced between his bed and Mike’s.

Mike immediately sat up, realizing how weird this must look for Will who didn’t remember their conversation.

“Oh, yea. You weren’t feeling well so you asked me stay with you.”

Will’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. Thanks for that. And you totally could have said no, just for future. Not that this will ever happen again…”

Mike shook his head. “No, Will, I wanted to.”

Will nodded, looking down, then moving toward the door with his clothes and toothbrush.

“Hey, do you have breakfast plans?” Mike asked quickly, hopping up from the bed.

Will glanced down at his watch, which he had slept in since Mike hadn’t taken it off. “No but I have to go to set painting for the play, I’ll have just another time to get there.”

“Ok, what about dinner?” Mike hoped he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt.

Will gave an apologetic frown. “The set painting crew is eating together.”

“Are you free after?”

Will thought for a second then nodded. Mike felt hope fluttering in his heart.

“Would you, um…” Mike looked down nervously then forced his eyes up. Whether Will had meant what he’d said last night or not, he had to do this. “Can I take you on a date?”

Will’s hand had been fiddling on the doorknob, but he was no frozen. His eyes locked with Mike’s, his lips slightly parted.

“Really?”

Mike smiled a little. “Yea. I was thinking a movie could be fun. We could meet at the theater after your dinner if that was easier.”

Will’s face lit up in a little smile; still guarded, but some of the walls were coming down.

“Yea. I-yea, that sounds good, Mike. I’ll see you there.” He and Mike looked at each other for another few moments before Will turned the knob and headed for the bathroom.

“See you,” Mike said as the door closed. He flopped down on his bed with a smile.

He was going on a date.

With Will.

He had some work to do, for sure, but things were looking up already.

…

“C’mon, you know it was terrible.”

“Maybe you just don’t appreciate real art.”

“Oh really?” Will shoved Mike with his shoulder as Mike struggled with the key to their door. Mike giggled as he tried to push back.

“Yea, really. Personally, I think it had the lack of representational clarity characteristic of abstract expressionism,” Mike said, escaping Will’s attack as the door opened and running to his bed.

Will stopped in his tracks with his mouth open for a second, mock outrage and genuine surprise and amusement mixed in all at once. Then he moved toward his own bed and grabbed a pillow that he proceeded to use to attack Mike.

“Shut up,” he laughed.

Mike was still giggling as he held his hands up in defense.

“No I’m serious, there was um, spontaneity and um, you know, something else. I bet if Jackson Polluck made a movie it would be exactly like that.”

Will had climbed up onto Mike’s bed in his attack, but then paused. He looked at Mike.

“Did you look up abstract expressionism?” He cocked his head to the side with a slight grin. Mike was blushing, but also felt pretty proud of himself. The book in the library had been really boring and he had decided to try and remember only a handful things from it, and though the other word that accompanied spontaneity had slipped through his mind, at least he hadn’t forgotten everything.

He was also pleased Will had come onto his bed after what had happened yesterday.

“Um, yea, kinda,” he said sheepishly.

Will sat back on his heels. “Why?”

Mike shrugged, looking down. “I care what you care about.”

Will froze for a second, staring at Mike. A glance up revealed what Mike thought might be a slight blush on Will’s cheeks.

The date had gone well. Really well. Mike had waited impatiently all day —his fidgeting having been noticed by Max at the library, who felt triumphant hearing that Will had agreed to go on a date with Mike and did her fair share of backhanded encouragement, warning Mike not to mess it up like she knew he would— and finally watched an unfairly handsome and paint-stained Will walk around the corner outside the cinema like the fated love interest of Mike’s own movie. They’d sat in the back corner of the theater and shared Skittles and then when Mike snuck his hand on Will’s knee, Will moved his hand to interlock their fingers. All the walk home they’d talked about the movie (mostly Will laughingly mocking it and Mike defending it just to be contrarian).

But, as amazing as it all had been, Mike knew he really had to clear some things up because Will still seemed guarded and surprised whenever Mike did or said something remotely romantic.

So the time had come.

“Um,” Mike said, nervously running a hand through his hair. “Actually, yea I should… I have some things I wanted to talk about. If that’s okay.”

Will put the pillow down and crossed his legs. He gave a shy nod. Mike also sat cross legged, leaning forward on his elbows.

“So… so you don’t remember anything from last night, right? From when you came home?”

Will shrugged. “Not really.”

“Ok. Just wanted to make sure. Um. Ok for starters you looked really good yesterday. Like really good. Like take-my-breath away kind of good.” Mike inwardly kicked himself. Why was he so much more awkward at this now when Will was actually fully sentient?

It didn’t seem to matter, though, because a shy smile was spreading across Will’s face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Mike breathed. “And you look really good tonight, too. You always look good, honestly, it’s really very distracting. But I’m really sorry I didn’t say anything, yesterday, and about not kissing you, and about being weird the past few weeks—”

“It’s okay, Mike, it’s totally okay, I know you want to take it slow—” Will cut in, shaking his head.

“But I don’t!” Mike laughed, impulsively grabbing Will’s knees. Will looked at him wide eyed. “I don’t want to take it slow, actually. And this whole time I was just holding back because I was afraid you wanted to go slow, or that you only wanted to mess around and you didn’t want anything more, and I just knew that if I-I let myself go any further then I was gonna start saying shit.” He let out a breath.

“Like?” Will tilted his head to the side.

Mike looked at Will, eyes scanning his face. Drinking in the way his hazel eyes always seemed to shine like there were stars in them.

“Like, I-I… I mean, God Will, you’re so…” Mike swallowed. He wished he had perfect words for Will, words that would make him understand everything.

Will grinned a little.

“I hate to say this, Mike, but if that’s what you’ve been holding back this whole time then you’ve kinda been failing, since you do seem to say that pretty much every time we kiss…”

Mike rolled his eyes. His hands were still on Will’s knees, so he lowered his face to hide it. He closed his eyes.

Will gently put his hands over Mike’s, which seemed to shoot a current of warm electricity from his arms through his whole body, kickstarting his brain into forming words.

“I really like you,” he whispered. “Like a lot. I probably have since I met you and I just didn’t know it.” He looked up at Will. “You’re so… so beautiful.”

Will stared at him like he was the most precious thing on earth, like he might start crying, like he might laughing. Like he was watching the stars being created.

Mike suddenly felt like words were easy, like they could just flow out of him now. “I think about you all the time,” he continued, shifting closer to Will. “And it doesn’t matter if we’re kissing or talking or just, like, sitting in silence, I just want to be with you all the time.” He slid his hands out from beneath Will’s and moved them to hold Will’s face. He grinned. “And yes I went to the library and looked up abstract expressionism ‘cause I’m obsessed with you and I want you to talk to me about whatever interests you and not think I’m a total idiot and maybe the last part is a stretch but you can’t win them all, so.”

Will reached up to hold onto Mike’s arms, his glistening eyes still focused on Mike like he was the only thing that existed. His eyebrows were still upturned but he was smiling now a little.

“I’m guessing I made some embarrassing confession to you last night when I was drunk, didn’t I?” Will said, wincing a little bit.

Mike shrugged innocently.

“The world may never know.”

“No, Mike, I need to know what I said, I probably said something absolutely humiliating didn’t I, fuck.” Will leaned his forehead forward to lean against Mike’s. Mike happily moved his arms to fold around Will’s neck. He laughed softly.

“About 60% of it was you trying to convince me that you never drink. And then you assured me that we could go at whatever pace I wanted. And then, um…” He paused. “You said you wanted me to be your boyfriend.” Will moved his forehead back to look at Mike again, a little surprised. “Which I would really like, too. If you meant it,” Mike followed up quickly.

“You would?” Will whispered.

Mike tilted his head with a sarcastic quirk of his lips. “No. I’m only falling in love with you, being your boyfriend is going a little too far.”

Will shoved him, and Mike dramatically let the force make him fall back on the bed, his arms around Will’s neck forcing Will to fall down with him.

“What were you afraid you said? When you were drunk?” Mike asked cheekily, gazing up at Will propped up above him.

“The world may never know.”

“Oh c’mon,” Mike whined.

Will rolled his eyes, trying to ward of a blush. Mike waited expectantly.

“Probably something about having sex dreams about you,” he mumbled, not looking at Mike.

Mike’s grin spread across his face until he was sure his ears had had to move back to make room.

“Yea?” was the only thing he could manage.

Will was grinning a little too. “Yea. And now we never talk about it again.”

“Are you kidding?!” Mike pulled Will down against him so that he could roll them over, positioning himself on top with his arms one either side of Will. “I need to know everything that happened.”

“We’ll get there,” Will smiled, grabbing a fistful of Mike’s shirt. “But first kiss me. And if you even thinking about stopping in the middle and getting up to move to the other bed, I swear—”

Mike cut him off with a deep kiss, lips fitting together hungrily.

“No problem there,” Mike whispered breathlessly, staring for a moment into Will’s eyes before surging back down. His hands found their way into Will’s hair, lightly massaging his scalp the way Will liked. Will’s hands clutched up and down Mike’s back, then tentatively slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, asking to cross a boundary they hadn’t crossed before. Mike hummed into Will’s mouth, giving permission. Will slipped Mike’s t-shirt over his head then moved his hands back to where they were. The feel of Will’s fingers on his skin caused Mike to shudder.

“Shit, I really like you,” he whispered into Will’s mouth, practically melting into his body.

“I really like you too,” Will whispered, pecking Mike’s lips quickly. He reached up a hand to tenderly hold Mike’s cheek. “Thanks for the movie,” he said in a small voice. “And for looking up abstract expressionism.”

Mike smiled. He kissed Will’s cheek.

“Of course. It was more for me, though, so that I can give really intelligent commentary on excellent films.”

“Well,” Will said softly. “You may be right. If Jackson Pollock did make a film, it would have been like that. But only because he only knew how to make absolute messes.” He grinned up at Mike.

“What? No!” Mike proclaimed in outrage. Then kissed Will’s cheek again. “But what about…” Another kiss. “The profound,” a kiss on his chin. “And monumental,” a kiss on his jaw, “influence on the movement?” Three kisses on his neck. “Something… about trajectory?”

Will was giggling, hand playing in Mike’s hair as he began to earnestly kiss Will’s neck. Will shivered, sighing.

“I told you I was bullshitting,” he grinned. Mike began slowly rolling his hips down as he kissed, which seemed to distract Will from the topic at hand. “Fuck, Mike,” he breathed.

“We’ll get there.” Mike smirked as he quoted Will, pausing to looking into his eyes. Will rolled his eyes at the joke but then smiled.

“Cool,” he said softly.

“Cool,” Mike echoed.

And Mike beamed, knowing that, despite all the odds (and Max’s teasing), he hadn’t messed this up, and he suddenly felt like they had something so good that it couldn’t be messed up, as long as he and Will had each other.

And there was something profound and monumental about that.