Work Text:
Ambiguity.
The quality of being open to more than one interpretation; inexactness.
Lingering gazes. Accidental touches. Bated breath.
Mike had known the first two well, even before he started guessing his feelings. Those have happened a million times before each. Bated breath though? Now, spending time with Will again, Mike was getting familiar with that factor.
Something had changed. Even before the fight with Vecna, even before Mike broke up with El, from the moment they were alone in California. Something simmered there under the surface.
It was never explicit. Only hints to something closing in between them. Enough to get them flicking their eyes away or getting their cheeks to tinge.
It was there when they danced around each other in Vecna's final days, and it remains now.
They're sitting on Will's bed, Mike drafting out a short story for a writing assistant and Will studying for his up-coming history test.
The assistant was genuinely a little stupid. Mike's teacher thought they'd needed to be refreshed on how to handle two plots at once—which Mike found pretty easy—and assigned them to write a fantasy and romance.
The fantasy part had been a breeze, likely because of the millions of campaigns he'd hosted. The romance part was a tad more tricky, since he hadn't actually been with someone he loved .
The pinning state of the plot had been pathetically easy. Mike just had to keep glancing at Will a million times for inspiration and, boom, that's how the main character needs to describe her best friend.
Peaks of sun through the blinds making a halo lay on Will. Feet kicked up behind him as he laid on his stomach. A soft, amused smile gracing his face. Eyes crinkled slightly but still shining up at him. An angel.
"What's up?" Will asks, after Mike embarrassingly locked eyes for a third time in a row.
"Nothing, just writing the short story." Mike taps the notebook on his knees.
Will humms, "the romance one?". Mike nods. Will stares at him, skeptical. "Is that why you keep staring at me?" His voice somehow knowing yet curious simultaneously.
There's the ambiguity.
Recently—or maybe since California, if Mike thinks back to it—they've been…flirting. Maybe it's not flirting but it's obvious how some things just get the other turning pink and hesitating.
It's that tension that really seals the deal.
And Mike decides to break it a little. Take a leap.
"I just need inspiration," he shoots out.
Will's eyes shoot up and his smile drops a bit before returning brighter than before. He seems to have landed the jump judging by how Will stares up at him, moving to rest his head on his palm?
"Oh? How so?" If Will sounded flirty before, this voice gives Mike's stomachs the flips like no other. Low and prodding, making Mike's heartbeat a little faster and making him unable to break their gaze.
"Yeah. Just…describing the love interest from the main character's view. Y'know…" Mike trails off.
Their staring contest breaks momentarily as Will looks over to the notebook.
"Well…" Will starts, he sounds a little less confident from before. He sounds like he'll be taking a leap like Mike. Mike thumbs the notebook, waiting.
"Need any inspiration for other scenes between them?" Will rolls his eyes back to Mike.
Wasn't exactly what Will was expecting but he understands where this could lead. Him and Will have always been in sync like that.
"Yeah. What do you suggest?"
Will bites his lip, sits up, and gets closer to Mike.
"Depends. Where are they?"
Mike feels trapped under Will's stare, studied and bare. Like his chest is open and his heart is out for Will to take, like he hasn't a million times.
Mike's eyes flicker between Will's, his paper, and then Will's lips.
The characters are about to have their confession and kiss.
Mike swallows and saves Will the explanation, dragging him over. Will follows immediately.
In sync.
In sync as Will topples Mike into the bed. In sync as their lips press together. In sync as the only thing separating their matching hearts are clothes and their own bodies.
If you were to ask Mike how two people were to fuse together, he would think of now. Now, with how Will cradles his face with both hands and sucks on his bottom lip. Now, with how he places one hand on Will's hip and the other through his hair. Now, with how Will licks his mouth, asking politely to steal his heart.
And if you were to follow up that question with, does it feel good? Mike would say yes a million times over. He would say it's an understatement. He would say it was everything he ever wanted.
Because it is. Will grips him so softly and desperately, swirling his tongue with his, giving a little pleased sigh when they go in for another. Just being able to bite softly at his bottom lip, rub up and down his back, take whatever Will gives him. It's the best thing he's ever done. He wants to do it a million times.
The moment ends too soon, when Will leans back up.
"Got you inspired?" Will asked, still smug and mindbreakingly hot with how breathless he is.
"Huh?" He responds intelligently, mind kissed blank.
"Your scene. Wasn't it a kiss?" He nods his head over to Mike's abandoned notebook.
"Oh. Oh! Yeah it was…" He trails off, hesitantly. That was a confession, right? Why else would Will do this?
Ambiguity. As much as it's fun to dance around, Mike needs to know now .
"Do you love me?"
Will's eyebrows shoot up and he laughs a little. "Jesus, Mike, of course. Was that not obvious?"
Mike flushes, rolling his eyes. "Oh screw me for making sure."
Will just shakes his head, amused, and leans back in until they're nose-to-nose.
"Of course I love you. A million times over."
Mike smiles, "I love you too. A million times over."