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"I know exactly what you want, Michael."
The creature wearing Will's face, inhabiting his skin and invading his very being, stepped closer. And again. They were suddenly toe to toe. Mike's breath stuttered as he watched Will's face curl into a vicious smile. The monster that had turned his best friend into a puppet leaned in, just a little. Just enough.
Will had physically never been closer to him. Will's soul had never been further away.
"Wouldn't it be so easy?" His body crooned, in a tone Mike had never known him to possess. Will's breath was tickling his cheek now, and Mike wanted to cry. This was... The closeness was everything he had shamefully dreamed about for years; it was a manifestation of the thoughts he would drown in when alone, but shove to one side whenever he saw anyone else (as if anyone could see it written on his face). Disgusting, is what they would call him in his nightmares. You want your friend in that way?
Mike clenched his jaw. He now knew. He knew that's not what Will would say. He knew about the painting, and he knew about the words Will had attached to them. They had all but confirmed it now- Mike didn't need an imitation of his best friend taunting him with it. Nobody that knew the two of them could deny that they were connected after all.
"I know Will's in there," his voice only wobbled slightly. "Will, you have to hear me. Please. You need to fight this-"
'Will' laughed, raising a hand and slowly dragging his index finger down his jaw. As Mike sharply inhaled, he saw his best friends dark eyes, endless lagoons, glitter in the dim light. A wicked smirk painted his features. "Oh Michael. You don't want that. I told you, I know exactly what you want."
The magnetic instinct to pull Will closer almost overwhelmed him. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend. It would feel like Will, if he placed a hand behind his neck and held on tightly. It would sound like Will, if he zoned out enough to ignore the harsh tint to his voice. It might even taste like-
Mike took an abrupt step back. Will's hand fell, but his expression remained amused. He followed him. "Still lying to yourself, Michael? I thought we were past that."
"Shut up. Shut up." He spat back, trying to get a hold of himself. "Will. Please. I know you're there."
"I'm right here," 'Will' countered, his head tilting slightly to the side. "Everything you want is already here."
Want?
This creature knew nothing about want.
Mike was five years old and his cheeks were flushed and rosy. It was his first day not feeling lonely. Little Will sat next to him, at the end of the day, whilst they were both waiting for their parents. A piece of paper was pushed into his eyeline. Two boys, just about identifiable from their stickman-esque figures, and smiling brightly, stood together. Friends, it said, written with the patience of a very determined five year old. Mike looked to Will with the widest grin on his face.
He didn't know, back then.
He didn't know that he would never feel that loneliness again, as long as Will was by his side.
-
Mike was nine years old. He was annoyed. He'd just argued with Nancy after she'd taken his superman figure away. "Girls are stupid," he whispered conspiratorially to his best friend.
Will giggled. "I'm sure she didn't mean it, Mike."
"No, she did! She's evil! I'm telling you."
"Well," the other boy looked thoughtful. "We'll have to plan a mission."
"A mission?"
"Yeah. We'll have to steal it back."
"Nancy doesn't let me in her room..."
"Exactly! We'll be sneaky. You can plan it. You're super smart with those things. You're always planning in games for us. They were just practice."
Mike stared at him, feeling slightly warm in his cheeks. "You think I'm super smart?"
Will, who was already half way through ripping out a page of his sketchbook for them to plan on, paused to frown at him in confusion. "Huh? No, I know you are."
"Oh," he watched his best friend for a moment. He was wrapped in a quiet focus as he very neatly wrote 'Action plan' across the top of the paper in bubble writing. "Okay," Mike broke out into a wide grin and leaned in, anger forgotten in the excitement. "Okay, yeah. Well first, we'll have to set up a watch, we can use our walkies and one of us can hide by the stairs..."
-
Mike was eleven years old. He felt a little bit stupid. He'd just argued with Dustin.
Lucas, after rolling his eyes, and calling Mike a coward, had run off after his other friend.
He blinked after him, but looked to the side. Will hadn't moved, but he was watching him cautiously.
Something mean and defensive (and scared) coiled in Mike's throat. "You gonna call me a coward too?" He demanded.
Will frowned at him. "No," he said plainly. "I'm not going to lie." The relief of Will's approval lasted barely three seconds as his best friend continued. "But that was mean. You should apologise."
He stared at him, the instinct to deny everything fiercely rising within him. "Why? Why should I? It was his fau-" something in Will's expression stopped him mid sentence. He crossed his arms instead, as if it would protect him from the intensity of Will's gaze. It was as if the other boy could always see right through him. Normally Mike loved it. They would always know what the other was thinking. If one of them needed the other to hang back from a group hang out, they would. If one of them was feeling overwhelmed, they would cover for the other, speaking louder as if it would drown out the others' silence. If one of them was happy they would be the first to share it, with eager grins and hands grabbed on shoulders.
It was the unwritten rules. Mike and Will. Will and Mike. They knew each other better than anybody else. Mike hoped it would never change.
And part of those rules meant if one of them was being stupid, the other would call them out.
As much as Mike adored being known, it really made sulking that little bit harder.
Will continued to fix him with a look.
"Fine! Okay, fine." Mike tried to sound annoyed about it, but Will had broken out into a small smile, and that was really all he could focus on anymore.
-
Mike was thirteen, and he had an important task ahead of him.
"What's that?"
Mike's hands scrambled to hide the words on the paper beneath him. "It's - nothing-"
Will, whose head had suddenly popped up over Mike's shoulder, frowned slightly as he tried to squint to read the words between his fingers. "Hmm."
Will moved round to the side of him, his gaze landing on the drawing he'd gifted to Mike the week before. Will the Wise and Mike the Brave stared at the two of them, brightly coloured, next to the bugbear they had just slain.
"It's..." Mike sighed, knowing from Will's expression that he was not about to drop this. "It's a surprise. You're not meant to see. Yet."
"Oh." Will looked down to the paper that Mike was still trying to hide. His face curled up into a sudden wicked grin. "Well. Too late." He grabbed at his fingers, pulling them away. Mike sighed, but let him. He always let Will.
His best friends eyes scanned over the first few sentences, growing wider with every word. "Mike. Are you writing about u- uh- our characters? This is so cool!"
Mike couldn't help but grin, pulling the paper away. "I told you, it's a surprise."
Will's smile had melted into something sweeter. Softer. "Fine. Fine. I just can't believe you're writing for me."
He couldn't believe it? Mike would do anything for him.
"Now shoo," he laughed, nudging him with his shoulder. "I'm about to get to the good bit."
-
Mike was fourteen years old, tired and grumpy, and he was leaning next to Will on a bike railing.
It had technically been a fun summer. But Mike had never been able to shake that... Feeling away. The feeling hovered over his chest whenever Will was gone. It threatened to smother him sometimes.
It felt almost like... Well, like loneliness. But that made no sense. He would be ten minutes into kissing El and all he could feel was a weird hollow scraping in his chest. Like no-one could see him, or understand him.
He wasn't feeling that now. Even though they stood in silence. Will's arm lightly brushed his, and Mike knew he probably should have chosen to lean on the next bike rack instead of pushing into his friends' personal space, but the closeness shoved away the horrible quietness in his throat. He didn't think about why. He'd been desperately trying to not think about why.
About why, last year, at the snow ball, Mike's heart had threatened to leap out of his chest. About why he had felt angry the second Will had been dancing with a girl. About why the second El had arrived, he had felt a little sick, and little... Broken. He had put it down to nerves. That made sense. Surely.
"They wanna be any later?" Mike groaned, instead of thinking. Max and Lucas were really taking the piss this time. They were leaving him with his thoughts, which he'd been actively trying to avoid, stood right next to a pensive Will.
"I'm sure they'll be here soon," Will said softly.
Mike looked round at him. During all of his not thinking he had also been unconsciously avoiding Will. Part of him knew that all of his careful walls might come crashing down if he looked too closely. As if he had to guard himself, because he realistically knew that there were answers on Will's face to the questions he hadn't even begun to ask yet.
Right now he looked a little distant, and a little sad. Mike immediately pushed aside his worries, his heart aching. He had just started to turn and raise his right arm towards Will, when a noise made him jump out of his skin.
Crackle... "Mike? Will? You guys there?... Over."
Will startled slightly, but immediately occupied himself with grabbing the walkie. "Lucas? We're here. Over."
"Great. Uh. Max is super ill, so we're gonna have to pass this time-"
"Can't you still come?" Mike scowled, panic instinctively rising within him because the fear (the fear, the excitement, the unrelenting joy...) of sitting next to Will in a quiet room with nobody near them except from strangers... watching a movie sometimes felt more personal (more intimate) when there were two of you, instead of a group. Mike promptly told himself to shut up.
"I'm trying to be a good boyfriend, Mike. You should try it sometime."
Will snickered. Mike felt his cheeks get hot.
"Whatever, man," he muttered, looking anywhere but Will.
"Tell Max we hope she gets better," Will cut in, his voice sincere, wiping the small smirk off his face at Mike's discomfort.
"Thanks. You guys have a good time. I'll see you next time. Over and out."
Stupid Lucas.
It wasn't that Mike was against time with his best friend. Quite the opposite. It was just everything felt too intense recently. Too undiluted. As if all the thoughts he desperately tried to chase away might finally catch up with him.
Like... Ever since the kissing, Mike had felt himself...
Well, he'd felt himself thinking about Will.
And that didn't make sense: that wasn't normal. He could only imagine how weirded out Will would be if he knew (subconsciously, though, he knew Will had never been weirded out before by their closeness). It was just a weird association Mike had made.
The kissing... Well it was what he was meant to do, right? Him and El were a couple, and that's what couples did. And sometimes it felt a little uncomfortable, like he couldn't really see the point of it, but Mike had figured that was just part of it. You just had to grimace and deal with the discomfort. That must be what everyone else did.
It was just, since it had started, being alone with Will had felt a little overwhelming. Like he couldn't stop himself from thinking about brushing his hair away from his neck. He wondered how it would feel to lightly touch his cheek. He wondered how it might feel to lean in closer to him, to crowd his space, maybe to-
"Um, should we go then?"
With horror, Mike realized he had been staring at Will's lips. For god knows how long. His cheeks burned.
Will looked a little pink. Oh shit, oh-
"Yeah," Mike's voice sounded a little shaky. "Yeah," he said, more firmly, and took an abrupt step back. "Let's go."
He turned on his heel, not risking glancing back to see any more of Will's pink cheeks.
He really needed to get a grip.
-
Mike was sixteen years old. He was stupidly in love.
It was barely 14 hours ago.
They sat in the basement, side by side, pressed against each other. Only a candle flickered in the room. The darkness felt heavy, along with everything that had been unsaid between the two of them.
They needed to sleep. They might not have much chance for rest remaining.
"Will," Mike whispered, eventually, unable to look at him. He watched the candle. "El- El told me. About the painting. I just-"
"Stop," Will whispered back, his voice firm but shaken. He could sense his friend staring intently ahead. The last few days had been littered with this ever building tension, and Mike felt he couldn't ignore it anymore. He needed Will to know... "Please," he added. "Let's just- let's get through today, okay? Let's survive this. Then we can talk."
Mike's throat felt heavy. He slowly turned his head to face him. Will looked glum, determined, and scared.
He slowly moved his hand to find Will's. His fingers brushed the back of his hand, hesitant at first, but then with increasing confidence. He wound their fingers together tightly, and squeezed. Will turned to stare at him, a glimmer of hope reflecting back.
"Okay," Mike agreed, cautiously. He tried to channel everything to him- his hope, his wants, his love- through their hands and through their gaze. Will had to know.
He was pretty sure Will knew.
Will swallowed, but nodded. For a fleeting moment, his eyes dropped downwards, and Mike's breath caught in his throat.
The moment broke. Will looked forwards again. "We should sleep," it sounded like a question. Mike wanted to deny it, but the tiredness on his best friend's face was so evident. If they opened this can of worms now, who knew how long it would be before either of them could rest. There could be arguments, or tears, or explanations that went on for hours, or- or other things- and Will clearly didn't have the energy for it right now.
"Okay," Mike repeatedly, softly, gazing at Will as if he was the entire world (he was). "Just know. Whatever happens tomorrow. You're not alone, okay? You're not alone."
Will smiled, gently. He nudged his shoulder. "I know."
He knew. He must know.
They sat in silence for a few moments, both watching the candle slowly flicker out.
Mike eventually unwound their hands, and moved to the makeshift bed on the floor.
He should have never have moved. He should have never have let Will out of his sight.
"You don't know anything about what I want," Mike found the words flooding out of his mouth, suddenly bolstered with confidence. He knew what he wanted. He knew what he had always wanted.
And it wasn't this thing wearing Will's skin and puppeteering his voice.
'Will' continued to smile, wetting his lips just slightly. "Oh but I do. I know everything you've ever wanted. I know everything you've ever fantasized about."
He was so close. Mike could lean forwards just a couple of inches and their lips would brush. This monster would take away their first kiss, something belonging to them. This monster would take everything away from them.
Mike took a deep breath in. He knew what he wanted. And right now? Right now he wanted Will, more than he wanted to breathe. He wanted his best friend back. He wanted to hear him laugh, he wanted to see him smile, he wanted to hold him solidly in his hands. He wanted Will, and he wanted him safe, away from here. He wanted him somewhere that the Mind Flayer could never touch him, ever, ever again.
So he fought back.
Not letting the closeness override his brain, he lifted both hands, cupping each of Will's cheeks firmly. Oh how he had longed to...
But it wasn't Will. At least, not on the surface. But Will was in there. It wasn't just forced optimism that knew that; Mike just knew. The same way he knew when Will was upset, or angry, or delighted. Will was an extension of himself, of his heart, and he knew every part of him. Will was in here. He just had to reach him.
You're the heart, Will had said.
Will was his heart. And he was going to save him.
After a moment of surprise, 'Will's' face curled into another smirk. "Exactly, Michael. We could have everything we've ever wanted. Just us two. You could join me."
"Shut up," Mike whispered, but firmly. He repeated it louder. "Shut up. Will, I know you're there. I know you can hear me. You need to fight this. I know you can fight this. I believe in you. I always have."
'Will' laughed. But it was a little shaky. It was a little hesitant.
It was enough.
"Will, please. I know it feels impossible right now, but it's not. I'm right here, and I'm not leaving. I know it's taken me way too long to figure this all out, but there's no way I'm leaving your side. You have to know that, right?"
The smile was slowly slipping from the monsters' face. It had to be a good sign. It had to show some form of internal fight. Mike swallowed, lightly stroking his cheek with his thumb, as if he could wipe the monster away with his touch. He wished he could.
"I'm right here. It's always been us, hasn't it? All those years. I've been so stupid," he laughed a little, despite himself. "But I know now. I'm never going to let this go again, you hear me?
When Mike stared into his eyes, he saw a flicker. It looked exactly like... Years ago, chasing the Mind Flayer away. Telling him about how being his friend was the absolute best thing he'd done. Probably the best thing he ever would do. His eyes had flickered then, too. The scared boy hidden behind the monster letting himself be known, if only for a second.
"Will. I know you're there," he whispered, delicately. "Please."
It's like the Mind Flayer had trapped him in a cave.
It was dark, dingy, cold, isolated. He'd never felt further away.
Yet even that, the idea of slipping away and forgetting everyone, was a luxury Will could not afford. Part of his subconscious was held down by heavy rocks and forced to watch. An old projector flickered hazy images of the real world onto the cold, dark cave walls. The sound felt like it was filtered through a tin can. Will had wanted to close his eyes, but they were forced open by some unknown force.
Whilst the children had been rescued the previous day, the damage had already been done; their energy had fuelled the Mind Flayer. Now, Will, trapped and captured in this weird hellscape, could only watch as his new powers were channelled for the greater evil. He could only stare as Vecna also gave himself into the Mind Flayers form. He watched as their villain was obliterated into tiny pieces, his energy balled up and reformed into something even more malicious.
The Mind Flayer had consumed hm.
Will was pretty sure he was next.
Will had never felt more helpless, whist his mind was restrained and destroyed, impossibly wrapped up in an avalanche of boulders. His body was still walking. His mouth was still talking.
He had struggled. He had fought. And in the end, he had lost.
Maybe they hadn't lost for good. El and Kali were still out there, hunting the Mind Flayer down, determination energising them both. The party, Mike, were still grouped together, orchestrating and planning the take down. Nancy and Hopper had all the guns Hawkins harboured at their fingertips. Robin and Steve would be equally armed and furious. And his mother and Jonathan would be fuelled and unstoppable, neither willing to see the past repeat itself.
They were still out there, Will had to believe, but he had failed.
He'd tried so hard to take these powers and channel them into good. To grasp something evil and purify it within his fingers. Every fibre of his being had been pushed into fighting.
His friends had told him they all needed to fight together, and Will had agreed. But then... But then... Well, Henry had gotten to him.
It had been gradual. A subtle chill that seeped into his bones and then refused to leave. Suddenly a coat wasn't enough to warm him up. Suddenly his thoughts had become jumbled, not quite his own. The little sleep he'd managed had been plagued by nightmares. Before he knew it, he had blinked, and the nightmare had become reality
And it had told him. It had shown him.
Mike. Broken, at all the precious points. Skin cold, pale, white. Hair, dark as ink, pooled on the ground. A pretty picture in monochrome, if it weren't for the blood pooling around his head.
This is inevitable. This is the end.
Will had denied it.
It had insisted.
We have him. This is the end.
No. No. No chance. No way in Hell.
No chance in Hell.
But Hell was real. Will had been there. Will had lived it.
Unless... Unless you trade places...
He had woken in cold sweat in Mike's basement, the image of him broken in so many places burned into his retinas, and he had looked to the floor, where Mike should have been, and he wasn't there. He had gone. Just like Henry had said.
The pure adrenaline and fear had pushed him to react without thinking. He couldn't find Mike anywhere. He kept looking, despite the late hour. He tried yelling. No-one was there.
Will hadn't known, then, that Henry had gotten to Mike too. That in a dream-like trance, Mike had wandered into the trees close to his house. The hive mind channel in Will's brain had become static, the connection somehow stronger and weaker than ever. Henry, or the Flayer, had found out how to override the system.
In Will's panicked state, there was only one place Mike could be.
With Henry. With Vecna.
So he had gone. He had fucked up all of their careful plans, determined that no-one would ever place a single finger on Mike Wheeler's face. He was convinced that with his powers, and his love, that Henry had underestimated him. That when he arrived, he would destroy all of their evil plans with pure willpower and adoration for his best friend.
Yeah. He'd been wrong.
Now he was forced to watch yet again, as the Mind Flayer took control, and touched Mike's cheek.
It felt so impossible.
Mike had found him, hours later, before anyone else. He thought he'd have back up. He thought maybe El and Kali were hiding round the corner.
But no. Just Mike.
At first he thought maybe it was another hallucination. A cruel, cruel imitation of Mike that Will was forced to watch his puppet body interact with. But there was no doubting, as the caves grey walls flickered with his real life perspective, that it was Mike. Nobody could replicate his eyes like that. Nobody could replicate his soul like that.
So helpless, Will watched.
He watched himself taunt Mike.
He watched the pain cross his features.
He watched as his own body laughed at Mike, and tried to tempt Mike, as if Will Byers was everything Mike Wheeler truly wanted. And he watched as Mike Wheeler looked at him, as if he were seconds away from giving in.
If the last few days hadn’t been enough to convince Will that his adoration wasn't quite as unrequited as he once thought, the last few minutes were enough to fuel him for life.
It was just a shame it felt too late, now. He should have never stopped Mike from talking about it. He should have never let Mike leave that sofa.
He watched the slow determination cross the other boys' face, as his taunting continued. He watched the stubbornness lace into his expression. He heard him call out to him.
He begged him. He insisted. I know you're in there, Will.
And he was.
Will struggled. He tried to fight, again, desperate. Mike was right there, looking at him like that, and he couldn't reach him. He threw all of his energy onto the rocks that held him down, but they refused to budge.
Mike was wrong. He wasn't strong enough.
But the other boy didn't give up.
Suddenly, Mike was closer, by his own volition. He was strong. He was staring right into his soul. For a moment, the projector screen felt real. For a second, Will breathed in, and tasted the air himself. Mike was so close. Mike was holding his face, grounding him, pulling him back.
God. God. He wanted so much, he needed-
Will I know you're there-
I'm here. I'm here. Please. Please. Mike-
Please-
Will broke through. Just enough. Just enough for his right hand to raise. Just enough for his hand rest on Mike's. Just enough for him to try and draw all the warmth from him into his heart and his soul. He could manage this. He could...
He tapped. Little taps. This was all he could do.
He had to let him know. He had to know. I'm here. I'm fighting. I'm here. I love-
Will's hand raised to cover Mike's. For a second, he faltered. He was terrified the Mind Flayer had taken back control.
But then. Taps. Very subtle, very soft.
Long and short. Short and long.
M I K E
Mike almost laughed. He leaned a little closer to him, letting his breath wash over him. "Yes. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
Will blinked. A tear had started to pool at the corner of his eye.
Mike hesitated, before starting to tap back, at Will's cheekbone. He was careful, deliberate. He wanted Will to feel every tap.
The light in Mike's eyes made the rocks that held him down feel so much lighter. Will could breathe a little easier. He could feel Mike lean a little closer, and feel the warmth of his breath wash over his skin. It flooded through him, it gave oxygen to the fire that had slowly been snubbed out in Will's heart. It gave him hope. Suddenly, he was coursed with strength he didn't know he had left. He was standing. He was free from his restraints. He was so close.
He was still trapped in here, but he had some movement. And he had Mike Wheeler, right in front of him.
Mike was tapping back. On his cheek, by his cheekbone. The skin felt alight. It felt so real.
I
L O V E
Y O U
The cave shattered. The illusion vanished.
It was Mike, and it was Will.
It didn't matter that they were in the upside-down, in some weird throbbing castle of vines and blood and sinew.
The world didn't matter.
Mike.
Mike and Will.
He remembered why he was here in the first place. He remembered the fury at the idea of anyone harming a single hair on this boys face. Nobody would ever hurt him. Not on Will's watch.
The Mind Flayer may have taken him, temporarily, but it was not over yet.
They had both frozen. Mike, terrified that he wouldn't get Will back to him. Will, eyes wider than ever before. eyes shining, locked on Mike as if looking away might actually kill him.
Mike swallowed. "Tell me you hear me. Tell me you're there."
For a moment, Mike thought he might have actually lost him. For a moment, everything was still, and everything was quiet.
But then. Taps.
Y E S
It's Will. It's Will. Will, staring at him, wide eyed. Will, suddenly even closer to him, their breath intermingling in the brief space between them.
God. The joy in Mike's eyes. The relief.
Will still couldn't speak. There was still a battle for control. But his hand was his. His hand was fully his. He could feel everything, again. He could see everything again.
Will kept tapping. He had to know.
I L O V E Y O U
Mike laughed. It was pure joy, despite the situation. This wasn't news to Mike, but it was confirmation. Most importantly, it was confirmation that it was Will staring at him.
"Can I kiss you?" He whispered, because it had to be asked. Because he had to know Will was present, still. Because he had to know.
There was a pause. A flash of green in Will's eyes.
Y E S
Mike laughed, again. He kissed him.
It felt like nothing he'd experienced before.
It was Will. Will. Will.
Mike was kissing him.
Mike Wheeler was kissing him.
Mike Wheeler.
Mike.
The joy flooded through Will, from his fingertips and toes, right through into his chest. He wasn't sure what to do, at first. He was still caught between two film slides; every single part of him was so unbelievably in the moment, but the tendrils of darkness still caressed his arms, his neck, his sides.
But here was Mike, forcing him to be alert.
He was gentle, to begin with, so very gentle. His hands held Will's face as if he might shatter into tiny pieces. His lips felt like a whisper, a promise, lightly pressed against him.
As soon as Will's brain caught up with his heart, he kissed back with such force that the tendrils had no choice but to be ripped away. He ignored the pain, he ignored the screaming in the back of his mind, he ignored everything that wasn't Mike Wheeler. He gripped the taller boys neck and pulled, revelling in the feeling as Mike pushed back.
Mike. His brain screamed. Mike.
Everything was Will. Every little thing.
Mike's brain had short circuited. The second Will pulled him closer, he forgot everything else. Every sense felt as if it were on fire, every point of contact risked driving him absolutely crazy, and it all felt so addictive. He didn't know how to get enough. He wasn't sure he would ever have enough.
As they staggered forwards slightly, Mike moved a hand to the small of Will's back, holding him tightly in place. There was no way in Hell anyone was taking Will away from him again. There was no way at all.
Will wasn't sure what was happening, anymore.
Well, he was kissing Mike Wheeler. That was for sure. (Was it? Was Vecna just taunting him again? Had the Mind Flayer just gifted him this boy to keep him quiet?)
Yes, he reaffirmed, as he knotted his fingers into Mike's hair. He was definitely kissing Mike Wheeler. Neither his brain nor the Mind Flayer was creative enough to make this feeling up.
But there was also that hum building- it was like, it was like pulling at a loose thread and calmly watching it unravel. Like finally guessing the correct strand to undo a pesky knot. It was magic. It was his magic, and it was flooding out of him, undirected. He felt it swirl around the two of them, like some protective shield. Whilst it came from Will, it felt strengthened by Mike. Mike, who held him so tightly he thought he might pass out directly into his arms. Aura of protection from my Paladin, Will thought, with a giggle against Mike's lips.
He felt Mike grin in response, and he gripped him tighter, holding onto dear life.
It was only as they both broke apart, gasping for breath, that Mike noticed something happening.
They were enshrouded in magic.
Mike gazed around them in awe; they were surrounded by a blue glow. Electricity danced around them in a wide circle. The sky was just blue, electric blue, and it was so bright that Mike had to squint to stare at it.
The blue continued to swirl in a whirlwind around them. Black tendrils whipped back from around Will.
When he looked back to Will, he was met with the whites of his eyes. The other boy was purely focused, his mouth twisted downwards, and his eyes narrowed. Mike had to hold his breath: he was so beautiful. He was captivating. Angelic.
His sorcerer. Ready to take on the world.
And then, it was all over. As quickly as it had began.
Will felt the last traces of the Mind Flayer rip away from him, and he felt his magic flicker off. His body fully sagged, leaning all of his weight into the beautiful, gorgeous, incredible boy in front of him.
The cold was gone. All that remained was Mike's warmth, and Mike's strength, and Mike's arms.
"Will," Mike whispered, his voice filled with awe.
Will looked up, and smiled.
"Hey," Will whispered, with the loveliest smile on his face.
It felt like a dream. Mike squeezed his arms around him. Definitely not a dream.
The two of them stayed in silence for a few moments. Will slowly regained the strength to support himself, but when he tried to pull back, Mike's grip around him tightened.
"It's not dead," Will said, finally, still a little out of breath. He had moved his free hand to grip the front of Mike's sweater incredibly tightly, as if he were afraid Mike wasn't real. "It'll be after the others- we- we need to find them."
Mike let out a breathy laugh, pressing his forehead to Will's. "God. You're worrying about the others right now? Will. Will, you're remarkable."
He felt warmth radiate from the other boys face, and Mike was struck with the overwhelming desire to kiss every piece of skin he could see. He wanted to pepper him with kisses and wrap him up somewhere safely, where no-one could bother him again. "I think this time was thanks to you, actually." Will ignored Mike's snort, pushing on and continuing. "I'm serious. I didn't know I was still reachable."
Mike very slowly moved to press a long kiss to Will's forehead, feeling the shorter boys' shaking slowly ease to a stop. He returned back to stare into his eyes. "You'll always be reachable to me. I always see you," he whispered. It sounded like a secret, but he didn't want it to be anymore.
"I know," Will replied, his eyes shining. "You always do."
Will wasn't sure how long they both remained there, wrapped in each other. After enough time he remembered the taunting Mike had endured from him. More importantly, he remembered Mike's response.
"What was that about wanting something?" He asked, when he eventually couldn't stop himself anymore, his eyes desperately scanning all of Mike's face.
Mike laughed, a beautiful sound. "You know exactly what I want," he said, his voice filled with adoration. Both of arms tightened around Will and he pulled him firmly into him. Every point along their body was pressed firmly together: each of their legs, their torso, their chest, and their arms. Will dropped his head onto Mike's shoulder with a soft sigh, and he felt Mike bury his nose into his hair.
The day wasn't over yet. The fight wasn't over yet.
But in that moment, with Will's cheek brushing against the soft cotton of Mike's sweater, with his jaw pressed against the firmness of his shoulder, it really felt like they had already won.