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In all the years they’ve known each other, Mike struggles to understand why Will has decided now is the time to start getting interested in girls. Will has always been a late bloomer, clinging to their childhood like no other of their friends had. Mike thought it was his way of holding on to the way things used to be – before everything turned to shit. But now, with their hometown split open by giant red cracks in the streets and packed with gates to another freaking dimension, Will has decided it’s the perfect time to go on a date. Tonight.
“You met her in the bathroom?” Mike repeats, confused as he tries to piece it all together.
“How many times, Mike? Yes. She walked into the boys’ bathroom by accident. I was washing my hands, she got embarrassed, and we started talking.”
“About what?”
“Are you gonna help me or not?” Will tosses a pile of sweaters into Mike’s lap before turning back to continue going through Mike’s closet. Sitting on his bed, Mike drops the clothes carelessly onto the floor.
Ever since they came back to Hawkins, Will has been living in Mike’s basement. Since all his clothes are still in Lenora, he’s been borrowing from Mike whenever something counts as a special occasion. Which doesn’t happen often – apocalypse and all.
“Dude, you need to sort this out. Most of these don’t even fit you anymore,” Will says, holding one of Mikes striped shirts up in front of him. Mike wore it nonstop last summer and still can’t seem to let it go. Maybe he too is clinging to their past.
“Yeah, whatever. So what did you talk about?”
“Well, she was bleeding, so that was a conversation starter. She had a paper cut from sorting the forms for the volunteers. You’ve probably seen her at the gym – she’s one of the girls handing out schedules in the mornings.”
Mike tries to remember the staff’s faces, but his mind gets stuck trying to picture the story happening at all. Will could’ve said he saw a ghost in the bathroom, and it would’ve sounded just as believable.
Something about it doesn’t sit right with him. Sure, Lucas, Dustin and Mike all have had girlfriends – it’s not exactly a miracle. But part of him thought Will wouldn’t change like they did. That he’d never like girls the way they did. Now that he thinks about it, he feels stupid for ever questioning it. Obviously Will wouldn’t be a child forever. Like the rest of them, he’s growing up.
“Maybe. So what happened then?”
“I helped her wipe the blood off her hand.”
“Wow. Romantic.”
Will rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Hey, this one looks like it fits.”
Will has changed three times already and this too comes as a surprise to Mike. Will has never cared much about his appearance, so why start now? Especially since he seems almost nonchalant about this whole date thing, like it’s no big deal, like he’s done this before. As Will pulls off his shirt, Mike catches a glimpse of his back, that’s broader than it used to be. It’s true, Will has changed. All of them have. What made Mike think that Will would always stay … stuck?
“What do you think?” Will tugs at the bottom of a plain green polo shirt.
“No stripes? Plaid?”
Will shrugs. “I don’t know. Wanted to try something different.”
Which is fine, Mike knows that. But still – it feels like Will is trying something on that doesn’t actually fit him. And he doesn’t mean the shirt, which fits him pretty well. It’s one of the posh looking ones Mike’s dad bought him, the kind Mike never felt like himself in. Seeing Will wear it now feels wrong, like he’s wearing it inside out.
Will steps in front of the mirror, not waiting for Mike's reply. He sighs at his reflection, and suddenly all the energy he brought into the room seems to drain out of him. “I don’t know. I hate this.”
“Then don’t wear it.”
“Not the shirt. I mean– everything.” Will slumps onto the bed beside him. Mike watches him carefully. Maybe he’s not as chill as he seemed.
“You mean the date?” Mike softens his voice. This feels familiar. Will, doubtful and insecure. Mike, reassuring him. This is where he knows what to do. It’s what he’s good at.
Will sighs again and nods. “I wanna do it. But I already know it’s gonna suck. I haven’t even- whatever. I don’t even know how-“ He groans, runs a hand through his hair, and flops back onto the bed. His shirt rides up just enough to expose a strip of his stomach.
“It‘s okay to be nervous,” Mike says, looking at the pale of his skin. “That’s kind of the point. The nerves, the excitement.”
“I’m not excited. I just feel sick.”
“Hey.” Mike lies back beside him so their heads rest next to each other. This Will – nervous, contemplative, doubtful – Mike recognizes. And he’s grateful to see him again. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”
“I won’t be fine.” The way Will says it makes Mike frown. There’s something absolute in his tone. Like he actually does not believe that dating this girl will result in something good, like he already knows the outcome. Like he’s already been defeated. And scarily, Mike recognizes this part of Will too: It’s the same voice Will used two years ago when he told him he was possessed, even if he didn’t understand it back then. And the same voice he used last month, when he told him Vecna was still alive.
Sure of himself only in the way that he’s sure things will not work out. A hopeless certainty.
“Why do you say that?”
Will glances at him, then back to the ceiling. “Because. Whatever. Don’t worry, Mike—I’ll go through with it.”
Honestly, Mike wouldn’t mind if he didn’t, but he doesn’t tell him that. “I get it. It’s scary, getting close to a girl for the first time.”
Will groans. “Actually, forget it. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Come on. You’re fifteen, it’s not a crime. If El hadn’t appeared out of nowhere that night, I wouldn’t have had my first kiss either. Lucas and Dustin aren’t exactly girl magnets either. In fact, you’ve probably gotten the most female attention out of all of us.”
“And what good has that done me?”
“You just need to act on it. Show them you’re interested. Make a move.”
Will narrows his eyes. “Have you met me? I don’t make moves. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“You’ve seen it in movies. You know how it works.”
“I don’t.”
“You do!” Mike props himself up on one arm, now facing Will. He doesn’t particularly love the topic of conversation, but Will sat through all his endless monologues about El during their trip from Lenora (pointless, because they broke up anyway), so it’s the least he can do now. Mike likes being helpful. And he loves being needed. “I can show you, if you want.”
“What?” For a moment, Will’s gaze darts back and forth between his eyes.
“I can teach you,” he says. “You know, practice flirting and stuff.”
Whatever Mike said, it shuts Will up. After a silence so long it starts to feel uncomfortable, Will sits up. “Absolutely not,” he says decidedly. “I have to do this alone. And if it kills me.”
“Dramatic.” Mike flops onto his back again, watching Will gather the clothes off the floor and shove them back into the closet. “Do what you want. It was just an offer.”
“I’m late.”
A glance at his watch tells Mike that Will is in fact not late for his date. “You’ve got like- one and a half hours.”
“Yeah, well – I’ve got stuff to do. Anyway, thanks for the shirt!”
Mike frowns, watching Will head to the door. “Hey, Will?”
“Yeah?”
“You can come up to my room after, if you want. If it’s not too late. I mean, even if it is, you can wake me up. If you wanna talk about it, I’m here.”
Will’s lips curl into a small smile. This is what they are. A team. “Sure. Thanks, Mike.”
And then Will leaves for his first date ever and Mike feels a little sick, like he’s the one going.
Mike usually sleeps with his window closed, but tonight he leaves it open so he can hear Will’s bike roll quietly across the driveway. It’s dark outside, which means it’s late. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, Mike switches on his bedside lamp. The bright orange digits of his digital alarm read 11:23. Part of him hadn’t expected Will to be gone this long. It’s been five hours. The date must’ve gone well. He didn’t need Mike’s help after all.
Mike waits in bed, listening to the sounds in the house. Will is being quiet as usual but in the silence of the night, Mike hears the bathroom door downstairs. A few minutes later, footsteps on the stairs. Then a knock at his bedroom door.
“Come in,” Mike calls, sitting up to make room.
Will slips into the room, already changed into more comfortable clothes, one of Mike’s old shirts, that’s too big for him. As he crosses the room, Mike catches the scent of minty toothpaste.
“Hi,” Will whispers.
“Hi,” Mike echoes, still a little groggy.
Will sinks down beside him on the bed. Mike can smell the outside on him, a mixture of something oily, like fries and a faint hint of cigarette smoke. They were probably standing next to people smoking. It’s strange, because usually, whenever Will goes out, Mike is there with him and doesn’t notice his scent, because it will stick to him too. But tonight, it stands out.
He waits. Watches. After a solid minute, his patience runs out.
“So, how was it?”
“Uh. It was.” Will seems to be searching for the right words. “Fun.”
Fun? Okay, He definitely didn’t need Mike’s help. “That’s great!” he says, nudging Wills bare knee with his. “Come on, tell me about it.”
Will keeps his eyes on the wall, his profile illuminated by the bedside lamp. “We ate burgers and fries. It was easy. She was … fun to talk to. She’s into comic books – I didn’t know girls could even be into comic books. She has four siblings, which is crazy, and she goes to church every Sunday but hates it. Uh, I really like her. I think.”
The last sentence makes something drop in Mike’s stomach, but he ignores it. “Dude, that sounds amazing!”
Will just nods, showing absolutely no emotion on his face. “I guess.”
Mike nudges him again, trying to get a reaction. But Will’s expression is completely blank. “Then why do you look so gloomy?”
Will is quiet for a couple of seconds before he lets out a breath that sounds like he’s been holding it in for literal hours. Finally, he meets Mike’s eyes. “It all felt… very friendly. Like I was just talking to a friend. I'd hoped if I went on this date, I’d feel … a spark or whatever.”
Mike studies him closely. Will’s green eyes look more earnest than they’ve had all day, but there’s still that same trace of defeat, almost like he knew this would happen. Like he never really expected there to be a spark. And in some strange way, Mike feels reassured. Like he was right – Will wouldn’t just start liking girls the way everyone else did. He shakes his head at the thought. “So, you’re not like, attracted to her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think she’s pretty?”
“Yes. She is very pretty.”
Something about the way he says it so confidently irritates Mike, but he ignores it. “Do you want to kiss her?”
“I guess I should want to,” Will mumbles, so quietly Mike almost misses it.
“You should?”
“I mean. I don’t know, it’s hard to tell. I guess I should try it to see if I like it.”
Mike nods slowly. “Yeah. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. It was your first date, you don’t have to marry her. You can take it slow. Maybe next time, try to make it more romantic.”
Will scoffs. “Make it more romantic? How would I do that?”
Now Will is asking for advice, and Mike feels steadier ground under his feet. He’s not exactly an expert when it comes to romance, but he’s happy to share what he’s learned in those past few years. “It’s about … creating a different mood. If it felt too friendly, maybe it’s because you weren’t giving her any romantic signals. You know, it’s something you have control over.”
Will is still frowning but it’s more curious now, like he’s actually listening, which motivates Mike to go on.
“For example, eye contact. Were you looking into her eyes?”
“Uh … I don’t remember.”
“It’s important! How do you expect her to actually see you in a romantic light, if you’re not looking into her eyes? It’s how people … connect.”
“Right.”
To prove his point, Mike looks into Will’s eyes. Will shifts uncomfortably. After barely two seconds, he looks away. Mike nudges his knee again. “See? That’s what I mean. Come on, look at me.”
“Why do I have to look at you?”
“Oh my god.” Mike groans. “Don’t make this complicated. You’ve looked into my eyes before.”
“Yeah, but now you’ve made me aware of it, it’s … harder.” Will makes a face, looking anywhere but Mike. But then, with a sigh of defeat, he finally looks up and meets Mike’s gaze.
And the room goes quiet.
In the silence between them, Mike starts becoming aware of a lot of things. The brush of Will’s arm hair against his own. Their thighs pressed together on his mattress. His own breathing, shallow and uneven. Will’s eyes, glowing impossibly green in the dim light. Seconds stretch, until Mike’s the one struggling to hold the gaze – but he forces himself. He’s supposed to be the teacher.
Eventually, he clears his throat. “Good,” he says, still looking into Will’s eyes. “See the difference? That’s the power of eye contact. It creates intimacy. Even between us, it feels different now, right?”
He hopes Will agrees and is relieved when he nods. “Yeah.”
“And when you talk to a girl you like,” Mike continues, “you make sure she doesn’t just see you as a friend. You create intimacy.”
“Mike?”
“Hm?”
Will’s eyes flicker between his. “Please don’t tell me you got all this dating advice from Steve.”
The silence that follows makes Mike’s face go hot. He groans, finally breaking the gaze and covering his face with his hands. “Is it that obvious?”
“I’m trying to figure out who could‘ve possibly taught you all this shit. He’s the only one who makes sense.”
“He just wouldn’t shut up about it, okay? It’s not like I asked. He used to come over all the time for Nancy and I was–“
“You were totally asking him for advice about El.”
“Shut up, Will.”
Will laughs, leaning back. Mike knows his face is burning red. “You can’t deny it,” Will says. “I’m seeing right through you. I’ve looked into your eyes and now there’s nothing you can hide from me.”
Mike rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a bitch about it, okay? It works. That’s all that matters.”
“Worked so well that El broke up with you.”
“Oh my god!” Mike stares at Will, mouth open in fake-shock. “Now you’re just being mean.”
Will grins, and Mike decides he’s not letting him get away with it. He pokes his side, making Will gasp, then tackles him. The sound of their laughter doesn’t last long though, when they remember it’s the middle of the night. Giggling, they collapse on the bed, Mike rolling off Will.
“I guess I deserved that,” Will murmurs, still shaking with giggles.
“Yeah, you did! I’m here trying to help and you repay me with insults?”
“Sorry.” Will’s grin is anything but apologetic. Mike just shakes his head.
“So – do you want to hear another one of my secrets, or do you think they’re bullshit now that you know where they came from?” Mike asks, rolling onto his side to face him.
Will mirrors him, propping his head on his hand. “Tell me.”
Mike clears his throat, glad to be useful again. He loves explaining things and he loves the way Will’s eyes stay fixed on him when he does. “Okay. Look at me,” he says, like Will isn’t already looking.
This time they hold the gaze more easily. A few seconds pass in silence. Without looking away, Mike slowly lifts his arm and brushes his fingers lightly over Will’s forearm. Will’s eyes flicker and something crosses his face – like a sharp breath caught in his chest. Slowly, Mike trails his fingers up his arm, over his elbow, along his shoulder. Then gently down his side.
It's so quiet.
Mike swears he can hear his own blood rushing.
His eyes drop to Will’s lips, that are slightly parted. They look a little wet, like he’s just licked them, and in the dim light they are darker than usual. Something happened in the last few minutes that made his heart beat unsteady. Breathing feels harder now.
He looks back up to see Will’s expression has changed. He looks flustered. Only now does Mike realize his hand has stopped, resting on Will’s waist, thumb absentmindedly tracing circles over the fabric.
He can’t remember how to move. Or how to look away. So, it’s Will who, eventually, breaks the spell.
He clears his throat, voice rough. “Uh.”
Just this one syllable jolts Mike back. He blinks, pulling his hand away. “See?”, he asks even though he barely remembers what they were even talking about.
“Sorry – what was the lesson?”
Mike raises his brows. Did Will not just feel all that freaking tension? “My hand? Like – physical touch?”
“Oh. Okay, sure.”
Mike feels stupid. He sits up, facing the wall. “It’s what Steve said, anyway. Keep your eyes locked and create physical contact. Like, touch her arm or leg, but make it natural.”
Will doesn’t answer. He’s so still that after a few seconds, Mike isn’t sure he’s even there anymore. When he looks back at him, Will looks tired.
“I should go to bed,” Will says, raking a hand through his hair. “Uh … thanks for the advice, Mike. I appreciate it.”
“There’s more if you-“
“No, thank you.” Will’s voice is firm and absolute in a way that makes Mike shut up immediately. “I’m going downstairs to sleep.”
“Okay.” Mike watches him stand. At the door, Will turns and gives a small wave and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Night, Mike.”
“Night, Will.”
It had felt hot before, but now that Mike is left alone in his room, he shivers. He gets up to shut the window. Climbing back into his bed, he can’t shake the feeling that he did something wrong.
Later that week, they are back to focusing on the actual quest at hand. Almost every day after school they meet up with their friends and siblings to work on their plan to save Hawkins. But Mike’s been a little distracted lately. Ever since they came back to Hawkins, he’s been focusing on his friendship with Will, as if to make up for the time he’s neglected him. Back in Lenora, he and Will had agreed they’d work as a team moving forward. And in a lot of ways, they are.
“Don’t tell the others about my date, okay?” Will whispered to him earlier that afternoon, before their scheduled meeting at Hopper’s cabin. Both El and Joyce have been staying here for the past three weeks.
“Why are you being so secretive?” Mike whispered back, even though the fact that Will confided in him and not the others left him feeling warm and fuzzy.
“I don’t wanna make it a big deal. Not until it’s … official.”
“Oh, so you plan on making it official?”
Will shrugged. “Well, I’m seeing her again tonight. After this.”
Before they could talk more, El and Nancy walked into the living room – Nancy casually carrying a gun, which was a little too shocking for Mike to even keep thinking about their conversation. They need a plan to defeat Vecna, not a plan to get Will a girlfriend. Mike needs to get his priorities straight.
But now, a couple of minutes later, they’re all hunched together on the couch, listening to each other’s thoughts, fears and plans, and Mike can’t help noticing the way Will’s hand is resting next to his thigh. Close enough that it brushes against it. Mike glances down, examines the space between them and wonders if the couch is really that crowded for this to be necessary.
And later, when Will tells them about the visions he’s been having (because holy shit, that’s a thing that’s happening now, too), his eyes find Mike’s the same way they had a couple of nights ago. And just like before, Mike struggles to hold his gaze. Looking into the eyes of the boy he’s known since he was five years old, suddenly seems like a greater challenge than defeating all evil.
It's stupid. He knows it’s stupid. Will simply has an intense way of staring when he talks about this stuff. And he’s locking eyes with all of them, going from one person to the next.
“Mike, are you listening?” Lucas asks.
“Yeah,” Mike lies.
“Really, then what did I just say?”
“Something about the … uh, radio tower.”
“Pay attention, okay?”
Mike is paying attention. To Will’s pinky pressing against his thigh.
What was it, Mike had told him? Keep your eyes locked and create physical contact.
Maybe Will is just practicing. And maybe he’s really good at it.
After their meeting, Will checks his watch and rushes out of the house, barely saying goodbye.
“Where did he run off to?” Dustin wonders.
Mike can’t say date, so instead he covers for him – because that’s what best friends do. “My mom made him promise to clean the basement or else she kicks him out of the house. He’s got about an hour.”
“Wow. Brutal.”
“Yeah, she doesn’t mean it. I think. Anyway … I’m gonna go help him.”
Which is a lie, of course. Mike does ride his bike straight home, but Will isn’t there. He’s on his date, creating intimacy, or whatever, like he’s been silently practicing all day with Mike.
Mike feels … something about it, he can’t exactly say what it is. But he feels the urge to mope around alone in his room instead of hanging out with his friends. So that’s what he does.
In his room, he paces back and forth, feeling useless and restless. His brain is sometimes funny like that, fixating on random things and then it’s like he can’t stop thinking about it. He needs a distraction, something to keep his brain from latching onto the thought of what Will might be doing right now.
He can just ask Will when he gets back. They’ll talk about it then. He cracks open his window, like the other night, to make sure he hears Will come home. But an hour passes, and the restlessness only grows.
Usually, when he feels like this, he ends up in the basement. It’s what he did long before Will moved down there. It’s where all the old boxes are, crammed with toys, board games, card decks, his massive stash of Will’s drawings, and stacks of comic books.
If they’re meeting up after Will’s date, he might as well wait for him there.
On quiet feet, Mike heads down the stairs and digs through the boxes until he finds a comic book series they’d been obsessed with when they were twelve. Stretching out on the single mattress where Will’s been sleeping for the past three weeks, Mike finally manages to stop overthinking and lose himself inside the story. He reads until the words blur, and at some point, he falls asleep.
When he wakes, it’s to a warm body and then a startled yelp. “What the- Mike?”
“What!” Mike jolts, confused and disoriented. It’s dark and there’s a body next to him under the blanket. “Will? Why are you in my bed?”
“This is my bed.” Will shifts away so they’re no longer touching and reaches over Mike to turn on the lamp. “I didn’t turn the lights on. I almost crushed you.”
Sleepily, Mike laughs. “Come on, you’re not that strong. Why didn’t you come up to my room?”
“What?”
“I thought you might wanna talk about your date, like last time. You didn’t go up to my room, or else you would’ve known I was here.”
With the dim light on his face, Mike can see confusion spreading across Will’s features. “Your logic is really flawed right now but I’ll forgive you because you just woke up. I actually did go to your room and found it empty, I figured you were crashing at El’s or something – not in my bed.”
“Why would I crash at El’s?”
Will shrugs. “Don’t know. Aren’t you getting back together?”
“Uh … no? Where is this even coming from?”
“You seemed really interested in what she was saying earlier.”
Mike struggles to follow. Interested in El? When? Before or after he was avoiding Will’s intense eye contact? “No. I’m not. I mean, not romantically. Anyway, why are we even talking about this? How was your date? Also, can you scooch a little?”
“I’m literally almost on the floor.”
“Fine.” Mike sighs, trying to settle into the sliver of space he has. Even the smallest shift makes him brush against Will. Which is fine, but … Mike sighs again. It’s just been a weird week. “So?”
“So?”
“I can’t believe you still haven’t started talking about your stupid date-“
“Okay, shut up.” Will tugs at the pillow under Mike’s head, scooting closer so they can share it. It causes their faces to suddenly be very close. Will speaks in a low voice but even if he’d whispered, Mike would’ve heard him. “I tried everything you told me. It was … I guess it worked pretty well.”
Mike studies Will’s face intently. “I’m glad,” he says, a little distracted.
“The eye contact definitely did something. And I touched her shoulder one time. And later, when I walked her home, I held her hand.”
The way Will describes it – stripped of emotion, like he’s been dating for years – baffles Mike. “Wow. You held her hand?”
“Yeah.” Will sighs, his minty breath brushing over Mike’s face. “It was surprisingly easy.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“So, why do you look upset about it?”
“Um.” Will shrugs again. He moves under the blanket, his cold feet brushing against Mike’s leg. Instead of pulling away, Will keeps them there. He probably doesn’t even notice. “I think I made a mistake”, he confesses quietly.
“What? How?”
“There was this moment, I walked her home – the long way, to avoid the military. As I said, we were holding hands, saying goodbye in front of her driveway. Then she brought my hand to her face. I think she was… nonverbally asking me to kiss her? I don’t know. She waited. I choked. I couldn’t do it. It was really awkward, Mike.”
At least there’s emotion in his voice now. He looks flustered, uncomfortable. Mike bites back a grin, trying to be sympathetic even though picturing it makes him want to laugh. “It probably wasn’t that bad.”
“No, it was. She noticed, too. I swear, she knew that I knew that we were both thinking about it. And that I couldn’t do it.”
“It’s fine, Will. Once you’ve had your first kiss you’ll laugh about it together.” Mike tries to sound casual, even though he doesn’t feel casual at all. To his own surprise, he’s relieved Will didn’t go through with it. “If anything, she probably thinks it’s cute.”
“Yeah, right.” Will scoffs. “I don’t know, Mike. I don’t think I can see her again. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever kiss anyone. You should’ve seen me, I literally turned to stone. There’s no way I can do it. The worst part is, I obviously suck at kissing. How could I not? It’s not like I’ve had any chance to practice, and that’s the horrifying thing about your first kiss: You can only get better at kissing by doing it. There’s no way around it. You have to be shit at the beginning. And I don’t think I have the willpower to go through that kind of mortifying experience, I mean-”
“Oh my god, Will”, Mike interrupts, trying not to laugh. “Breathe. It’s okay to suck at things you’re just trying out. The first painting you ever made probably sucked, too. You can’t expect to just pick up a pencil for the first time in your life and draw a freaking masterpiece.”
“But that’s the point! I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being unprepared. It’s messed up that the only way to practice is literally on another human being’s mouth.”
Mike can’t help laughing now. “I’m sorry, I swear I get it, but you should see your face right now.”
Will groans but even he can’t stop a small laugh. He flops onto his back and Mike follows, their shoulders pressed together.
For a moment, they stare at the ceiling in silence.
“Actually, Steve taught me something else,” Mike says in a slow voice.
“Oh my god.”
“You can practice kissing. On your hand.”
“My hand?”
“Yeah, look.” Mike reaches for Will’s hand, finds it between them under the blanket, and brings in up to their faces. He holds it in both hands, thumb brushing over the back of Will’s hand, the soft skin just below Will’s pointer finger and thumb. “This spot right here – it’s supposed to feel soft, like a mouth. Steve said some people practice making out on this part of their hand.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Will looks at Mike like he’s suspecting a prank. Like the moment Will tries it, cameras will drop from the ceiling to capture his humiliation.
“I’m not kidding.”
“Have you tried it?”
“I have.”
Only then does Mike realize he’s still holding Will’s hand. He lets go, turning his head toward him. Will is studying the skin of his own hand, as if it suddenly means something.
“We can do it together, if that helps. I can even go first. I mean, it’s embarrassing. But I’d do it for you.” Mike is surprised over the earnestness in his voice, but he means it. He remembers how nervous he’d been before his first kiss, even though he was way younger and didn’t have all these years to overthink it. He’d do anything to make this easier for Will.
Will seems to think about it, his gaze lingering on Mike’s face. “Okay,” he says quietly. “You do it then.”
“Pay attention then.” Heat rushes into Mike’s cheeks when he realizes just exactly what he’s gotten himself into. But there’s no turning back now. He brings his own hand to his face, takes a deep breath and presses his mouth against the soft skin below his pointer finger. It’s something he’s only ever done alone, in the dark of his room, and sharing it now feels humiliating and strangely intimate all at once. His heartbeat stutters as he parts his lips, lets his tongue brush against his own skin, sucking gently.
The sound is embarrassingly loud in the quiet room. He can feel Will’s eyes on him. He regrets telling him to pay attention.
Mike closes his eyes, realizing it’s weird to do this while literally locking eyes with Will. He feels stupid and exposed and he can’t imagine another person on this doomed Earth he’d ever do this for.
When he opens his eyes again, Will is staring, gaze locked on his mouth.
Mike stops. He clears his throat. Wipes his now damp hand on the blanket, realizing too late it’s actually Will’s. He wants to apologize but the words feel ridiculous, so instead he just coughs. “Uh, yeah. Kinda like that. It’s really not that hard.”
Will doesn’t answer. His eyes are still fixed on Mike’s lips, brows drawn in some unreadable emotion.
“Will? You still there?” Mike asks. “Do you want to try now?”
“Uh.” Will’s voice cracks. “Yeah. Okay.” He blinks, then clumsily lifts his hand, hesitates, and presses his lips to it, like he would probably kiss his mom goodnight.
Mike scoots a little closer, reaching for Will’s hand again. “Here, use your whole mouth, like … press it down, not just your lips.”
Will tries, but it’s half-hearted, distracted. He plants another kiss on his hand, and Mike exhales a little “no,” like a teacher correcting his student’s homework. “Here—give me your hand.”
He doesn’t think about what he’s doing. He wants to show Will. He pulls Will’s hand away from his mouth and toward his own. Without hesitation he presses his lips to the skin of Will’s hand. It’s still damp from Will’s mouth and Mike tries not to think about it. Instead, he opens his mouth and moves slowly against the oh so soft skin, sucking gently, his fingers holding Will’s hand pressed to his face.
Will stares, mouth opened, watches him like he did before, only now his eyes seem a little clouded. They track the movement of Mike’s lips as though memorizing every detail. He’s a good student, after all.
With his mouth working on the back of Will’s hand, Mike looks up into Will’s eyes to search for something like disgust – there is none. And right now, Mike doesn’t have the brain capacity to think about whether this is a little weird to do with your friend or not.
“Do you feel what I’m doing with my mouth?” Mike mumbles against Will’s skin.
“Yeah.” Will’s voice is hoarse, his fingers twitching in Mike’s grip. “I feel it.”
When Mike lets go of Will’s hand, expecting Will to pull away, Will doesn’t. His hand stays right there by Mike’s mouth, fingers brushing his neck, thumb grazing his chin. And then he’s dragging his thumb over Mike’s lower lip, still staring at it. Mike catches his breath. Will looks dazed, like he isn’t even aware of what he’s doing.
When Mike clears his throat, Will jumps, moving his hand back and flushing. “Uh, sorry. I just … I just wanted to see if they feel different from my lips. Since, you know, lips are different, obviously. Probably. I just wanted to know what they feel like.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” Will isn’t the only one who’s been doing some weird shit tonight. “So … do you feel better prepared now?” Mike wants to know.
“In theory.”
“In theory?” Mike frowns. “Dude, this is literally practice.”
“Yeah, but …” Will shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful, you’re doing this for me. I just think when it’s the real thing, it’ll be… different. I mean, I’m not gonna make out with her hand like you just did.”
Heat rushes to Mike’s face. “Oh my god,” he says sarcastically. “Sorry, my methods aren’t working for you.”
“No. No, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just-” He doesn’t continue.
It’s too warm under their shared blanket. Mike wants to kick it off but instead looks at Will’s hand resting on his chest, the faint redness on his skin where Mike’s mouth had been. He feels embarrassed but also very warm. He glances back at Will’s face. “I can show you the real thing. If you want me to.”
“What?”
He shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “We could practice. I mean, actually kissing. I wouldn’t mind.”
With his lips slightly parted, his wide eyes staring at Mike, Will almost looks comical. He tries to say something, then stops himself. Then tries again, stops. “I don’t know,” is all he manages.
“You can say no. I get it.” Mike is now occupied with playing with the blanket, his fingers twisting around the fabric. “It’s just an offer. But if anything helps with the nerves about your first kiss… it’s probably having your first kiss with someone you know. Someone you trust.”
“Someone like you”, Will finishes his sentence.
“Someone like me.”
Will is quiet for a whole damn minute and Mike wonders if he’s crossed a line.
“Unless you want it to be really special with her”, he says, giving Will a chance to back out, just in case he doesn't know how to say no. “Then you should save that moment.”
“I don’t want it to be special,” Will mutters dryly. “I just want to get it over with.”
“So …” Is that a yes?
Will closes his eyes, taking a long breath. “Just so you know, I’m going to suck at this. I’ll be so bad. But I can improve. I’m good at learning new things.”
Mike groans. “Here comes the perfectionist.”
It’s frustrating in the same way it’s endearing, and Mike can’t help but chuckle. He reaches out to ruffle Will’s hair – but then Will looks at him and instead of ruffling, Mike pushes a strand of hair out of Will’s face, thumb brushing his cheek.
“You don’t have to do anything yet,” Mike murmurs. “You can stay still. We’ll slowly ease into it, okay? Tell me to stop if you hate it.”
Will nods, causing Mike’s thumb to graze his cheek. This whole time their faces have been close, with them sharing a pillow. But now Mike is leaning in and he’s suddenly very aware of just how close they really are.
He notices that Will’s lips are trembling, his wide eyes darting to Mike’s mouth.
“Don’t worry,” Mike whispers. “It’ll be over before you even know it.”
Will doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, just watches as Mike closes the distance. As slowly and gently as he can, Mike presses his lips to Will’s. They are warmer than he’d expected. He lingers for a few seconds, then pulls back, searching his face.
Will’s eyes are still wide open.
“You okay?”, Mike whispers.
“Yes.”
“That was pretty easy, right?”
Will nods, eyes flickering across Mike’s face. “Uh … was that all?”
“There is more.”
“I’d like … more.”
This time Mike leans in with more certainty, pressing his mouth directly to Will’s. He tilts his head to find a better angle and bring their faces closer together. He’d expected Will’s lips to be rougher, but they’re soft, just the faint scratch of stubble on his upper lip that isn’t unpleasant.
He gives Will (and himself) a few seconds to get accustomed to the warmth of their mouths. Then Mike starts moving his lips, cupping Will’s face and pushing his thumb into his jaw, to coax it loose.
“Open your mouth a little,” he mutters into the kiss and when Will obeys without hesitation, Mike’s heart stutters. This is … not what he’d expected.
The heat of their faces and mouths radiates between them, making Mike feel dizzy, as he kisses him more open-mouthed, catching Will’s bottom lip and gently sucking on it. He feels Will take a shaky breath through his nose and it makes his head spin.
After about a minute of kissing, Mike pulls away. Will is flushed all over– his cheeks and lips burning red. Mike slides his hand down from Will’s face, across his neck to his chest, pressing against the fabric of his shirt. There it is, Will’s racing heartbeat.
“Is this too much?”, Mike asks, his face still so close to Will’s that their noses are brushing.
“No”, Will breathes. His eyes flicker down to Mike’s mouth, then back up. “It’s … that was … Actually, can I try? Can you stay … still for a minute?”
Mike isn’t surprised. After all, this is Will, who’s always been a perfectionist. He doesn’t just want to learn how to be kissed. He wants to learn how to kiss. To take action.
Mike nods, lying back to give Will some room. A little shyly, Will leans over him.
He places a cautious hand on Mike’s shoulder, steadying himself. He looks nervous and Mike can feel the thump thump thump of Will’s heart under his palm. Will gently brushes a stray curl from Mike’s forehead, then places his hand near his jaw. His eyes are wide, studying him closely.
Mike forces himself to breathe evenly. But watching Will watch him this close makes his chest tight. Then, finally, Will leans in.
He’s so careful, that for a second Mike thinks he’s not moving his lips at all. But then Will mimics the way Mike kissed him, moving his lips tentatively, his shaky breath hot against Mike’s face. It’s nothing like the clumsy practice on the back of his hand. It feels natural. Of course Will would be good at this.
Mike keeps still, lips soft, so he can be a blank canvas for Will to practice on. Will is exploring at his own pace. But after a minute of very careful and very slow kissing, Mike starts feeling restless. It takes every bit of willpower not to grab Will and turn them around.
Mike wants to pull him by the neck. Pull him by the hair. It’s driving him insane.
Will seems to grow equally frustrated. Finally, his kisses start to grow messier, lips parting, head tilting to press closer. His hand slips into Mike’s hair, fingers curling tight around one of his curls. When he tugs, trying to draw Mike nearer, Mike open’s his eyes.
Suddenly, it’s all a little too much.
His breath hitching, hand against Will’s chest, he gently pushes him back.
“What?”, Will gasps, breath caught in his throat, hand still tangled in Mike’s hair, lips bright red. “Was that bad?”
“No, I just … I need to breathe. You’re really good at this.”
Which is a massive understatement. Mike can’t find the words to express what a mess Will has made of him, and even if he could, he’s not sure he should.
“This is different from what I expected,” Will mumbles, eyes still fixed on Mike’s mouth.
Me too, Mike thinks. “Yeah? How?” He focuses on his breathing. He needs to calm down. He’s supposed to be the teacher here, not the one losing himself. But his mind feels fuzzy and Will’s lips are wet and still right there.
“I thought I wouldn’t like it. But I do.”
So do I, Mike thinks. He clears his throat, trying to steady himself. What are they even– right, the date. “You’ll like it even more when you do it with the girl you like.”
Will’s gaze flickers up to Mike’s eyes. There’s something changing in his face, something in the corner of his mouth, a subtle dimming. “Yeah.”
Mike stares at him. He can’t even begin to process his thoughts. “I mean, if you like her,” he adds, trying to remove some of the pressure from his statement. “It’s okay if you don’t.”
Will watches him for a few seconds, eyes roaming Mike’s face. “I don’t think I do,” he says calmly. He says it with a kind of certainty he didn’t have an hour ago – almost like he’s learned something about himself in those past few minutes.
The air in the room suddenly feels very thick. “So, you’re not gonna kiss her?” Mike barely recognizes his own voice.
“Probably not,” Will says, just as quietly.
“Then there’s no point in practicing anymore,” Mike states.
“I guess not.”
Neither of them says another word, they just stare at each other. Their faces are still close, Will’s hand in Mike’s hair, Mike’s hand pressed to Will’s heart. Thump thump thump.
“Unless,” Mike murmurs, clearing his throat, “there’s somebody else you want to practice for. I mean, maybe you’ll meet someone.”
“If the world doesn’t end.”
“If the world doesn’t end, and you meet someone … you’re gonna wanna be prepared.”
“That’s true.”
Some part of Mike knows they should go to bed. He should say goodnight, go upstairs to his room and think about what they’ve done. Come back with a clear mind in the morning. But the other part of his brain, the one that’s stronger, louder, the one that’s all WillWillWill and kisskisskiss, it wants to keep going.
“Actually, there’s more to kissing … something we haven’t tried,” Mike hears himself say.
“Yeah?” Will asks, eyes once again fixed on Mike’s lips.
“Yeah.” Mike moves his hand up Will’s chest, brushing along the side of his neck, caressing the soft skin. “Do you wanna try … like, kissing with tongues?” He hesitates, feeling a little shy now. “I haven’t done this before, but we could …”
“Practice together,” Will finishes for him.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
They shift closer again, noses brushing. Mike feels his chest tighten. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers.
“You don’t have to ask.” Will eyes are already fluttering closed. Mike’s stomach twists and he feels fuzzy, as he leans in and kisses Will again.
And then he doesn’t know how to be slow. He doesn’t know how to control himself. Grabbing the back of Will’s neck, he pulls him closer and opens his mouth. Will does the same and within seconds, they are gasping, open-mouthed, tangled together – Will’s hand gripping the back of Mike’s head, fingers threading through his curls, while Mike moves on top of him, knees bumping, legs intertwining.
Mike runs his fingers through the hair at the nape of Will’s neck, tugging gently. Will makes a muffled noise against his lips. With his mouth slightly opened, Mike takes Will’s bottom lip between his own, letting his tongue brush lightly against it. Almost like a switch has flipped, Will shudders and opens his mouth, letting Mike deepen the kiss.
Mike's brain shuts down, as he feels Will’s tongue on his, careful and hesitant. Will tastes the same as Mike probably does, of their shared minty toothpaste. It’s messy at first, both unsure on how to do this, and there’s definitely something like too much tongue. But then they find a rhythm, lips moving together, tongues brushing against lips and tongues. Mike loses all concept of time.
For what feels like hours it’s just lips and tongues and shaky breaths. Hands pulling on hair, grabbing arms, exploring biceps and backs and chests. Mike slides his hand down Will’s arm to grab his hand, intertwining their fingers. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been kissing. He just knows he doesn’t want it to stop.
Not when he’s short of breath. Not when it gets too hot and he throws the blanket off their bodies. Not when his lips start getting sore. Eventually, their movements are slowing down, kisses softening, almost tired. Mike hears bird’s singing outside. It must be three or four in the morning.
“Mike,” Will whispers, words brushing against his lips.
“Yeah?”
“What are we going to do?”
Mike pulls back just enough to look at him. His curls fall across Will’s forehead. Their limbs are tangled, bodies pressed close, faces inches apart. Will’s hair is a mess, his lips red and swollen. I did that, Mike thinks.
“Do you want to stop?” Mike asks.
Will shakes his head. “No, I meant tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. Mike’s stomach drops. He doesn’t want to think about tomorrow. “I don’t know”, he says truthfully. “But I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
By now Will is probably the best kisser in their whole friend group (he’s annoying like that). Which means there’s no reason to practice anymore. Mike needs a different reason to keep kissing him. And maybe he already has one.
The look in Will’s eyes tells him that he does. Somehow, Mike isn’t worried at all. “Will?” he asks suddenly.
“Hm?”
“Did you ever actually want to date that girl?” The image of Will holding hands with her seems almost bizarre now. And Will must have known, that's why he looked so hopeless. Honestly, he’s probably known for years, even if he didn’t have words for it. It must have been lonely.
“I thought I could force myself to like her.”
“That’s not how it works. You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with.”
“Oh, believe me, I know.” Will’s gaze flickers, and for a second Mike feels the air shift between them.
He studies his face, feeling tingly all over. “You do?”
Will nods, his fingers drifting slowly through Mike’s curls. “Why are you grinning?”
“I’m not,” Mike protests.
“Yes, you are.”
They both laugh, until Mike yawns and stretches, his knee bumping Will’s. “Hey, can I crash here tonight? I’m pretty beat,” he asks, as if he hasn’t already spent most of the night in Will’s bed.
Will rolls his eyes, laughing, and Mike pulls him close. He wraps both arms around him and presses soft kisses to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his nose, between his brows, his forehead.
Will giggles and squirms, but instead of pushing him away, he catches Mike’s mouth in a real kiss.
There’s still a few hours before they have to get up. Under the warmth of their blanket, for now, they are safe.