Prompts Closed

"Mike! Stohohop, I swehear—"

"You swear? That's pretty rude, Will." Mike giggled along with the squirming boy in his hold, slipping his fingers under Will's plaid button-up to scribble directly at his belly. "Your mom must be disappointed."

Will just laughed, tipping his head back against Mike's chest in a way that made his hair stick up, wild and unruly. His hands flew to push Mike away, but it wasn't easy, considering the teen was an almost-six-foot mass of long limbs and curly hair, wrapped around him like a personal suit of armor.

Moments ago, the boys had been cuddling while they watched a movie. Return of the Jedi softly filled the basement, just audible enough to be heard over quiet conversation. It was meant to be a calm night, but the peace between them could only last for so long.

As they drifted from their usual talk, like what schoolwork was due next week, and when they should have another campaign or hangout, Mike and Will found that they didn't have much to say.

Which was fine. It wasn't like they hadn't sat in silence with one another before. There were some days when words didn't feel necessary; it was easy enough to understand each other without having to say anything at all.

Tonight though, Mike was bored, and quiet wasn't helping to keep him occupied.

His fingers traced absentmindedly at Will's waist, pressing soft patterns into skin so still that Mike wondered if he had fallen asleep. Looking for an excuse to move, he leaned to press a kiss to Will's shoulder, only to find that there were goosebumps spread up his neck. Mike hadn't felt Will shiver—was he cold? Before he could wonder much longer, Will shifted, and just as he was about to ask—

"…'T tickles, Mike," the boy murmured, turning his head to meet the dark eyes behind him.

"Hm?" Mike's lips quirked a little. Will looked about ready to doze off, eyes droopy with sleep and comfort, yet his cheeks were flushed a rosy hue.

"Your hand. It tickles."

The taller hummed in response. That explained the goosebumps, at least. "Sorry, I'm kinda fidgety," he whispered, suddenly enamored by the pretty hazel irises gazing back at him. He pecked Will's lips, stilling his hands and instead opting to hold onto his waist. "I can stop if you'd like."

"That's okay. It kinda feels nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, like a spider"—Will grinned—"But if you bite me, I'm never speaking to you again."

Mike smiled right back, his fingers resuming their path across the expanse of tummy underneath them. "I thought you didn't like spiders."

"That's besides the pohohoint!" Will gasped, arching away as a finger wiggled at his bellybutton. "Mike, wahait!"

And the rest was history.

"What's wrong? They just wanna play," the raven-haired boy teased, crawling his hands higher up Will's midsection. He dug into his lower ribs, grinning at the squeal that flew from his best friend's mouth.

Mike slipped his hands out of Will's shirt and tapped at his arms, pressed tightly to his sides to prevent further attack. "Do you mind? The spiders need to get back to their home."

Will shook his head ardently. He knew exactly what that meant, and it wasn't good.

"Nohot thehere! Please, I cahahan't!" he pushed at the claws with t-rex hands, feet kicking out in giddy panic.

Mike snorted. "Jeez, you're so ticklish!" He tried to pry an elbow away from Will's side, reaching and wiggling the fingers of his free hand to keep Will giggling. "I haven't even touched you yet!"

"Ahand—hic!—You're not gohonna!" In a sudden rush of motion, Will jumped from Mike's lap and booked it to the stairs. He looked back only to stick his tongue out at his partner, sprinting up to the first floor of the house.

Mike gaped at what just unfolded. That little shit.

He was up a moment later, skipping steps as he hauled butt to catch up to Will. Judging by the distant thud of footsteps, the escapee was making a break for Mike's room.

Oh, he was totally asking for it at this point.

Out of breath from two flights of stairs, Mike latched onto the familiar doorknob to his room, but it didn't budge.

"Will? Did you seriously lock the door?"

"You're not gonna get me!"

"We'll see about that." He reached for the top of his doorframe, feeling along the small space until he found what he was looking for.

He flung the door open a moment later and was met with the sight of a very shocked Will scrambling up from his bed.

"You have a key."

Mike laughed, tossing the shiny object to the floor as he made his way to his boyfriend. "Wouldn't it be a shame if I were locked out?"

Will squeaked, his feet already to the floor as if making to run again, but Mike was ready this time. He grabbed him by the waist, pushing him back up onto the mattress and sitting on his thighs in one quick motion.

Will burst into giggles, pushing at Mike's chest in an attempt to dislodge him, and then at his arms when they reached for his sides. He wouldn't be going down without a fight.

"Wiiill," Mike sang. He caught one of the flying wrists and pinned it under his knee. "Don't make this harder than it has to be!"

Well, crap. The brunette twisted to the side—or about as close as he could with the teen on his legs—and tried bucking him off. It was nearly impossible to fend off the tickly hands when he only had use of one, and Mike wasn't moving an inch.

"This ihisn't fahahair!"

"Yeah? I would argue that locking me out of my own room is unfair, but that might just be me."

Will shook his head, squealing when Mike grabbed hold of his other arm and pinned it as well.

"Nononono wahahait!" He exploded into frantic laughter as his boyfriend resumed that same crawling motion at his now unprotected sides. "Screhehew yohohohou!"

"Wow, Will. I see how it is." Mike scribbled over his bottom-most ribs, laughing as he jumped beneath him. "It's like you want me to get your armpits."

"NOHOHO!" Will snorted, his giggles jumping up a whole octave at the proposition. "I'm sohorry! Mihihike!"

Will's underarms were his worst spot, and ever since Mike found out in first-grade, that knowledge has been put to good use.

Sure, Jonathan would tickle him lots when he was little, and even his mom when he would give a little more attitude than usual, but it was different with Mike.

With him, it was never quick pokes and scribbles like his mom, or the kinds of tickles that made him scream more than anything when roughhousing with his brother. Mike always tickled him with the sole intent of making him smile.

During his darkest moments, when Will felt out of control, scared and wrong, he knew that he could count on his best friend to make him feel better.

And when things felt okay again—maybe not the same, but closer to how life should be—he was the constant support that just made better days worth having.

Will never understood the people who hated being tickled. To him, it felt like comfort and home. It felt like love.

Even as Mike's long fingers met his underarms, drilling into the squishy skin in that silly, awkward motion that just screamed Mike Wheeler, Will felt his heart swell with adoration.

"NAHAHAHAH!—hic!—MIHIIIIKE!"

Mike burst into giggles at the squeals of his boyfriend, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek just as Will threw his head to the side in laughter.

After the first few seconds, Will's squirming slowed, the thrashing replaced by bouncing shoulders and weak, happy laughter. Mike watched in real time as his face flushed a dark strawberry color.

"Wihill? Are you doing alright down there?"

He didn't answer at first, and it took Mike a couple of seconds to realize it was because he was laughing too hard to string any words together. He wordlessly moved to his tummy, scratching and scribbling all over until Will gasped in a breath, peeking through teary eyes to muster up a half-hearted glare.

"Noho thanks to yohohou…"

"What? Are you back to hating spiders?"

"Juhuhust yohou!"

"Um, hello? Is this you asking for round two?" Mike squished Will's sides in warning.

"Wahahait!" Will jumped, kicking his legs out in giggly protest.

"That's not a no."

When he didn't give any real indication that he wanted to stop, Mike went right back to his armpits, and Will was sent cascading back into laughter.

This time, though, Mike was gentler. He carefully tapped his fingers under Will's arms, barely firm enough to even be a real touch at all. He leaned his weight forwards to pin Will a little better when he started squirming again, making sure to keep his balance as his boyfriend tried rolling away once again.

"Ihihit tihiHIHicklES!"

Will was in stitches. Somehow, the light poking was so much worse than what Mike was doing before, forcing choked giggles out before he even had a thought to stop them. The lack of real force felt almost like anticipation, as if Mike would dig in at any moment, and it was driving him crazy.

"Plehehease!"

"Please, what? Isn't this what you wanted?"

Will felt his whole face burn. "Nohohoho!"

"Are you sure?" Mike was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Will didn't say anything. Instead, he squeaked, ducking his face into Mike's blanket. Sure, he didn't hate being tickled. Mike knew it was something he was comfortable with, and that was one of the reasons why he did it so often. Still, even after all of this time, it was embarrassing to admit to something like that. Will supposed that he had conditions to his vulnerability.

Of course, Mike knew all of this. He knew Will got flustered being tickled; he knew it was worse talking about it. More than that, he knew it was all okay anyways. Being with Will allowed Mike to be himself, unafraid of judgement, or of sharing secrets and feelings, and just being him. If Mike made Will feel safe, then Will made Mike brave.

"Friends don't lie, Will."

The brunette gasped in air as Mike stilled his hands. He tried to hide his giddy smile in the sheets beneath him, but wiggling fingers under his chin put an end to that almost immediately.

"AHAH! Whyhyhy?"

"I told you already!" Mike found that spot where Will's neck met his shoulders and pinched gently. "I don't appreciate you lying to me."

The motion made Will squeal once again. He tried to block Mike out by pressing his ear to his shoulder, but that just started the whole new problem of the other side of his neck being exposed. Like clockwork, Mike leaned down to blow a raspberry to the ticklish skin.

Will was definitely going crazy now. He pulled desperately at his trapped hands, trying and failing to pull himself together enough to break free. When Mike squeezed at his hips, Will wondered if he'd actually make it out with his mind still intact.

"I can't believe how cute you are."

Definitely not.

Mike pressed his lips to Will's neck again. Then, to his jaw, and over his cheeks until he was peppering kisses all over the face of his giggling boyfriend. Will leaned his head back, welcoming the affection with a smile. The curly-haired boy rested his hands on Will's chest as he caught his lips in a final kiss.

"Ihi… still think you're evihil." Will panted.

"Mm, I know." Mike drummed his fingers over his collarbones. "You like it though."

There was that strawberry color again. Only this time, if he looked really closely, Will could see that Mike was blushing too.

"Mahaybe I do."

Mike laughed, teeth shining in the white light of his bedside lamp. "Maybe, or you actually do?"

"I do," Will promised. He gave another tug on his arms, and Mike let him go, sitting back over his waist as Will cupped his face.

Will tugged him down for another kiss, the two of them laughing despite themselves at the silliness of the whole night.

"Oh, by the way," the shorter started as they pulled apart. "I'm totally getting you back for that."

"Huh? I thought you said you didn't mind?"

Will snickered. "I don't. But I still want revenge."

Mike was off his lap in an instant, about ready to flee for his life, until Will caught hold of his arm.

"Not now. I wanna cuddle."

Mike looked skeptical, but he relaxed anyways, just as he always did around his best friend. "You're being serious?"

"Yes," Will nodded. "I swear you're safe…for now."

"Wow, how romantic." Mike sighed, settling next to Will and throwing an arm over his side. "I feel so loved."

Will hummed, reaching for a hand and interlocking their fingers. "Good. That means I'm doing something right."

And as long as Mike and Will were together, just as they were destined to be, the universe is undoubtedly right.

-----

Will couldn't remember the first drawing he'd ever done. He'd probably made it before he had even known what drawing really was, or that he'd liked it in the first place.

If he were to ask his mom, he'd probably get to hear a whole story behind it. Joyce liked to recall all sorts of things her kids had done, but when it came to Will and art, that was a whole other story.

Maybe he'd held pencils and crayons his whole life. It was a nice thought, imagining a younger Will scribbling away on a stray piece of paper, and a much older Will, sometime in the distant future, carrying on with that same passion for creating.

That was something the 13-year-old spent his evenings thinking about, when school was out, and all he wanted to do was sit in his room and sketch, alone and focused in the comfort of a familiar place.

Well, at least before the incident happened.

Now, there was hardly a day when Will didn't wish he could just get out of his room and go spend time outside in the grass like any other kid in the town of Hawkins. He'd been bedridden for the last two weeks, and even though he was perfectly happy to be out of the hospital, it could get lonely being inside all the time, as his mom had forbade him from leaving the house for any reason until things settled down again.

So that's where he was now, curled up in a swath of warm blankets and books at the head of his bed. A freshly sharpened pencil dangled between his fingers. But Will hadn't felt like drawing much. He was really going stir crazy, missing so much school and time with friends.

Just then, a faint knock sounded from somewhere down the hall, followed by the thump of footsteps and his mother's voice. Before he even had the chance to wonder who it was, his bedroom door was flung open, and Will watched as the boy responsible ran inside, arms open to greet him with a hug.

"Mike!" Will grinned widely as he wrapped his arms around his best friend. He could still feel the cold on the boy's coat and on his face where it pressed into the crook of his neck. When Mike pulled away to climb onto the bed, the same way he had every day this week, Will couldn't help but smile fondly.

This was what he wanted more than anything. Who he wanted.

"It's so cold outside now! Are you staying warm in here?"

Will nodded, already pulling one of his softer blankets from behind him to offer to the other. Mike took it, slipping his coat off in favor of the new garment.

"It's better inside, but we can't always keep the heater on, so sometimes I still need my jacket."

Mike nods, eyes slipping away in favor of the open sketchbook beside him. "Do any drawings today?"

Soon enough, the two were back to their usual routine of talking while doing some activity together, except this time, the pair was having trouble with the latter.

"Haven't we read those already?"

"Well, yeah. But we reread comics all the time!"

"...Can we do something different?"

In all honesty, Mike noticed something off about Will from the moment he walked in. He seemed more tired than normal. Or maybe just bored. Either way, the freckled boy decided he would get to the bottom of it.

"How about a movie?"

"I've watched, like, a hundred movies this week, Mike." Will slumped over with a groan. He didn't mean to be so difficult, but he really just wanted to get better already so that all of his friends could just go ride their bikes together like they used to.

"Well, what do you wanna do?"

"Uhm..." Hazel eyes searched the ill-lighted room for anything enticing. His walls were adorned with various projects and remnants of the scraps used to hide his location from the mind flayer. Will cringed at the thought, taking a moment to remind himself that he was safe now.

Looking back at Mike, he shrugged. "Something that doesn't involve sitting still for a long time?"

Ah. That made sense. Will was probably sick of doing the same old things in his room, and Mike couldn't blame him. If it were him, he'd probably have gone crazy long ago.

"Yeah, okay. Let me think real quick."

Now it was the taller boy's turn to look around, leaning over the foot of the bed to maybe find some figurines, or even just a ball to throw. But he saw no such thing. Had Will tidied up his room since they played yesterday?

"You're taking too long. Gonna have to go home before we even pick something to do." Will smirked as he poked Mike with his foot.

The other huffed, swatting at the air behind him in a dismissive gesture. When he was tapped at again, this time in the bottom, Mike finally whipped around with a glare.

"Stop that."

"Yeah? What are you gonna do if I don't?"

Mike narrowed his eyes, speaking his next words slowly and deliberately, similarly to how a villain might explain their evil plan to a hero— except Mike wasn't planning on letting Will in on his ideas quite so soon.

"I think I just thought of a game we can play."

Then, in a scramble of yelling and limbs, Mike and Will were wrestling on the bed, fingers interlocked as each fought for the upper hand.

"Whahat are you doing?" Will giggled, twisting his grip in an attempt to push the other to the floor. Mike made a noise similar to a squeak, sitting up on his knees and leaning his weight over Will instead. When the smaller boy brought a foot up to keep some distance between them, Mike finally made his move.

He let himself ragdoll over Will's foot, ignoring the tight grip at his shoulders as the boy suddenly fought to keep himself from being smothered. Now, with free hands and a less-than-ideal push against his diaphragm, Mike's hands pushed past Will's defenses, and clamped onto his sides.

The reaction was immediate— Will jerked sharply in surprise, hands retreating to grab onto Mike's as he burst into squeaky laughter. Without the boy beneath him propping him up, Mike slid forward with a yelp, now bowed over Will. Then, both of them were laughing, albeit Will a bit harder, given Mike was pinching up his ribs.

"You think this is better than just reading with me?" Mike grinned. He fought to keep tickling at the strange angle he was at, but judging from the squirming from underneath him, he figured he was doing a pretty good job.

"Pfftahah! Not behetter!" Will squeezed his elbows to his sides, though it didn't do much more than trap those wiggling fingers in place. Then, they were inching higher, and Will quickly caught on to the spot Mike was trying for.

In a moment of giddy panic, Will pushed off with his foot, sending his friend toppling off of him and almost off the bed. The freckled teenager was quick to catch himself just before he plummeted, hands gripping at airplane-themed sheets like his life depended on it.

"Will! Help- I'm gonna fall!"

Will snickered, getting up and sitting on Mike's legs. It was enough to keep him from being snatched away by gravity, but definitely short of any substantial help.

Oh well, it's not like Will doesn't deserve to get revenge, anyway.

"W-Will?" Mike raised his head when the moments of blood rushing to his head stretched on for far longer than would be necessary for his rescue.

"Yeah?" The shorter hummed, tilting his head innocently, as if he wasn't mostly responsible for the situation they were in.

Mike let himself hang back down. "Are you gonna pull me up?"

He reached up blindly for a hand, but apparently Will wasn't planning on offering him that much, either. It took a surprising amount of effort to lift any part of him in this position, and soon enough, his arm was left dangling beside his head. When Mike looked down— or maybe it's up?— he saw that even all the way stretched out, the tips of his fingers were still a couple of feet off the ground. Definitely not a drop Mike wanted to experience today, thanks.

"Nope. I'm fine where I am, thanks." Will said cheerfully. Unbeknownst to the curly-haired boy below, he was eyeing the sliver of belly that was revealed during the drop, his sweater slowly riding up further the more Mike moved about.

"Great. I've always wanted to live in the upside down."

Even though it got a laugh from the teen, Mike couldn't help but feel stupid for saying that. It had only been a couple of weeks since Will was... well, you know.

"Wait, sorry. I didn't mean that."

"It's okay, it was funny."

"No, it wasn't." Mike insisted with a frown. He was unsure about pretty much all of what was going on right now. Especially about why on earth Will had suddenly decided to keep him hostage, but he was certain that it was a bad idea to joke about something so terrible and scary.

"Then why are you laughing?" Will's fingers hovered over Mike's belly, poised in claws that somehow remained unnoticed by the other.

"Huh? 'M not la-aahahah! Shihit, noho!" He dissolved into giggles as short nails began to scratch and scribble along his stomach, reaching up once more to grab the offending digits.

Will pushed him away, it taking far less strength than he'd thought to keep Mike from stopping him. The boy drummed his fingers over the other's waist, relishing in the high-pitched giggle that resulted from it. Will couldn't lean over to peek at Mike's smile without ending up toppling to the floor, but the mental image of his quirked lips and squinty eyes was enough to make his heart flutter.

He slid higher up his torso, reaching his ribs and tickling at the pale skin there. This got a sharp jerk from Mike, but this time, he didn't move to protect himself. Just loud, bright laughter.

"You were right, by the way." Will mused, relenting in his attack for just a moment to give Mike a breather.

"Abohout... what?"

"This is more fun than reading. I like having tickle fights with you."

Pink creeps over Mike's cheeks, and he's momentarily glad that he's upside down, or else he might have to come to terms with the idea that it's because of something other than the pooling of blood in his head. "Yeah, I like them too."

"Hey."

"Uh huh?"

"...Can I get your hips?"

Mike groans, and Will can just barely make out his hands moving to cover his eyes. It's Mike's worst spot, and one of his best friend's favorite to target. Well, he's lived a fulfilling life up until now. With a heaving sigh, the taller gives in.

"If it'll make you happy."

Will smiles, and now it's his turn to blush. He's got enough awareness to realize why, but his crush isn't the main focus right now.

"It will, promise!"

Then, Will squeezes at the joints, fully expecting—but not so much prepared for—the familiar shriek to ring throughout the room as he does so. Within seconds, a voice calls from across the house, and Will snickers before yelling back assurances to his poor, high-strung mom.

"Mike, you've gotta be quieter than thahat! My mom is gonna think we're dying, or something."

"Thahahat's not fair! I cahan't help ihit!"

He just shrugs, finding the spot where his hips meet his sides and pinching. Joyful cackles fill the air once again, and when he isn't immediately thrown off and sent to his doom, Will isn't sure if Mike is just too weakened to push him off, or if he simply has the self-control of a saint.

"NAHAHAH! IT TICKLEHEHES!"

Despite his wriggling limbs not doing much for him physically, Mike always had a much better way with words—even if most of what was spilling from his mouth now was jumbled-up nonsense. It was almost as if he were a fountain with a much too high water pressure.

"PLEHEASE!" he snorted loudly, bucking and kicking as Will kept tickling.

"Please, what? You agreed to this."

"IHI—" Another snort. "IHI CAHAN'T! WIHIHILL!"

Just then, the door opened, and Jonathan stepped in with a curious, but somewhat concerned smile.

"Uhm— hey, big man. I just got back from work."

He made eye contact with Mike, whose face was red and still lost in hysterics. Will gave his brother a happy wave, still tickling with his other hand.

"Can he breathe okay?"

"I think so." Will sat up, startling when the teen slid a little further down and quickly sat on his legs once more. "Oops. Can you breathe, Mike?"

He nodded, but it was delayed and a little delirious. Jonathan helped Will get him back on the bed, ruffling the kid's hair when he was done.

Mike sank into the other boy, smiling tiredly as he caught his breath. Will hugged him, giving his back gentle pats as he recovered.

"Yohou're... ehevil."

"Yeah, Will. You're a little menace!" Jonathan agreed, scribbling over the boy's neck and ears. Will squealed, scrunching his shoulders up and cracking up into sweet giggles.

"Mihike! Help mehe!"

"Or help me. Seems to me like you need some payback."

Mike looked between the two, pondering. On one hand, he did technically tickle Will first, meaning they were pretty much even. But, on the other hand, his goal was to make him feel better, and hardly anyone was willing to play with Will like this anymore.

"I dunno, you did get my worst spot."

Mike watched the hope in Will's eyes die in real time at his words, struggling against Jonathan, who was in the process of gently lifting one of his arms above his head.

"Wait! Wahait, I'm sohorry! Not there!"

"Not where? Right here?" Mike poked him in the armpit, and Will hiccuped, his free arm shooting to try and cover the ticklish spot.

"Yehehes!"

"Move your hand."

"Nohoho!"

"Suit yourself, then."

He latched onto Will's sides, squishing rapidly. Soon enough, the boy's arm came crashing down, and Mike took advantage of the moment to dig under his arm.

Will absolutely lost it. He tossed his head back in silent laughter, thrashing and kicking, before hiccuping twice and regaining his noise making abilities in an ear-piercing scream.

Jonathan winced, while Mike only laughed along with him seemingly in his own little world. It was a miracle that Joyce hadn't checked up on them yet, but maybe she was getting better with her anxiety. After all, it wasn't exactly a rare occurrence to find the teens screaming about one thing or another every time they hung out.

"MIHIHIHIKE! hic! PLEHEHEHEA!"

Right. Mike was in the midst of killing his best friend.

He moved from the boy's armpit to scribble at his belly instead. Will squeaked, alternating between trying to block more tickle-spots and fending Mike off. Neither were exceptionally effective, and Will was soon melting into his brother's lap as he gave in to the playful touches.

"Are you still bored?"

Will shook his head, jumping when Mike poked his belly button.

"Do you feel better?"

He got a bubbly "yes!" in response from Will, who was smiling widely and showing off his cute gap-tooth and dimples, and that was enough for Mike to quit his attack entirely. Jonathan let his arm free, watching fondly as he curled into a little ball and caught his breath.

Once Will was upright and had drank some water, Jonathan left them to their playdate, mentioning something about chicken for dinner and being ready in an hour or so.

When they were alone again, it was easy enough to fall back into the rhythm of conversation. Mine and Will sat beside each other, taking turns doodling on the same piece of paper, adding to the other's drawing and laughing at the silly features they would give whatever creature or animal they could come up with.

It was easy to forget about the chill of the weather from the chatter and laughter inside. The boys spent the rest of the night playing, eventually settling in for a movie when Will ended up too tired to focus on Mike's ideas for campaigns.

Mike knew it was hard for Will after everything he'd gone through, but no shadow monster or alternate dimension seemed to dampen the kindness in his heart, or the creativity in his spirit.

He knew that despite everything, Will would be okay. They just had to give it time.

Even if there isn’t much he can do in terms of directly aiding his explosive boyfriend in facing his mental vulnerabilities head on, the least he can do is knead and press away the tension with relaxing massages.

It’s become a bit of a routine between them: Bakugou will usually train and workout for a set number of hours and Kirishima will dutifully check up on him, feeling for any strained muscles once he’s done, and that generally leads up to a massage. Bakugou doesn’t even really need to ask for it ( not that he’d be able to fight past his own embarrassment to do so ) and he appreciates how attentive Kirishima is to his body. It isn’t as though Bakugou hasn’t tried to return the favor, but the other student just politely refuses, usually coming up with some sort of excuse that the blond doesn’t wholly believe, but also doesn’t press the issue.

“Woah.. you’ve really got some bad ones today, huh? What, were you trying to bench press steel?” Kirishima muses, tackling some pretty twisted kinks underneath the skin of Bakugou’s shoulder blades.

“Shut up dumbass, of course I wasn’t..” His voice leaks out softer than usual, more of a jellied groan than his normal growl, thanks to Kirishima’s absolutely magical fingers. He definitely worked harder than he did yesterday and even then, he had pushed past a limit that struck one of his palms numb - he keeps that to himself, however . He doesn’t need his boyfriend more concerned about him than he already is.

“Whatever you say, babe. How much more do you have of this insanity training thing? It’s good that you’re finding new ways to push past the limits of your body and all, but you should still be careful, y’know?” As attractive and manly as it is, the last thing Kirishima would ever want is for Bakugou to rocket too far and hurt himself. He’s already seen what that sort of honing and power has done to Midoriya, he couldn’t bare the thought of Bakugou enduring that kind of pain too.

Bakugou knows this too. He recognizes and values the vast amount of care Kirishima has for his well being, even if thinking about it churns the insides of his stomach like butterflies in a whirlpool. Sensing the tips of his ears painting over in a soft shade of pink, he opts for switching the subject around in favor of avoiding the abashment that dares to rear its ugly head.

“Mmf… move lower.. to the left..” He instructs, shifting the slender musculature of his back in order to better pinpoint where he wants Kirishima's hands.

“Here?” The redhead touches down on a particular area slightly underneath his shoulder blades, to the left just as he had said, closer towards his under arms -- and the answer he was granted wasn't exactly what he was expecting. As soon as he applied pressure, Bakugou let out a snort and jerked an arm backwards, as if to catch his hand and halt his movements. Kirishima blinks, registering the reaction he just got from where he touched. Experimentally, he reenacts the same motions on the same spot and was still surprised to have been gifted the same cute reaction, complete with a curse and a glare backwards this time.

“ Kirishima, not there--”

“Why not? What's wrong with that spot?”

“--! I .. Just, don't touch right there damnmit, I don't gotta explain shit to y--!” His barking is interrupted by another trail of squeaky snorts, Kirishima's hands having snuck back to play at that area once more, this time without the intention to massage and soothe. Bakugou's squirming is immediate as he throws his grinning visage into the pillows beneath his chin, giggles fighting their way through his willpower whilst hands are blindly shoving at his boyfriend's in order to get him to stop - not that it works of course.

“You know what's really cute about you? You're always ticklish in the least expectant places. Hahah, I'm always getting a surprise.” Kirishima's teases come from a 100% genuine love and that's why they're simultaneously the best and the worst kind. Bakugou's heart flutters in the hollows of his ribs, with warm sensations spotting all around as if daisies were blooming between the spaces.

Of course, Bakugou can only respond with a resounding “Sh-shuhuhut the fu-uhuck uhuhup!” to which Kirishima rebuttals with a grin of his own and deeper digs into the flesh while still maintaining something of a feathery stroke, already beginning to drive the blond mad. But he knows Bakugou's body better than the other might care to believe, so he decides to explore instead of remaining at the one spot in case Bakugou built up a temporary immunity.

As he skitters calloused apexes down bare skin, he makes certain to keep the sensation ticklish enough that Bakugou is still rendered nothing but a squirming worm against the sheets, until Kirishima locates a new area that causes the other male to jerk almost aggressively and force out an actual squeal ; Kirishima might have melted right then and there if it were possible.

“Ooh, I found a jackpot huh?” He teases, and you can definitely feel the beaming simper through his words, the utter delight in his voice managing to both piss off and alarm Bakugou all at once.

“D-Don't---! fuck , don't yohohohou fucking dahahare--” Yet Bakugou's demands fall on deaf, excited ears and it isn't long before his curses and growling giggles evolve into broken squeals and belly laughter as Kirishima works the oh so sensitive dip of his back. He thrashes underneath the redhead, attempting to buck and throw him off, or even force his spidering fingers away from that spot long enough to regain some breath and focus on escape. It proves to be much easier thought than done; Kirishima's hands are basically glued inside and around that curve and goddamnmit , he isn't building any sort of immunity to the sensations the longer the other stays on it -- if anything, they started to become even stronger.

At this point, it's becoming increasingly difficult to try fighting off Kirishima. Every breath of laughter that escapes him only further drains his energy. Utilizing his quirk would be in vain; Kirishima probably expects him to, especially after the minuscule fireworks that crackled in his palms as a warning. He'd just harden up and protect himself before going in for more.

“St.. stahap…!” One thing's for sure though and that's the way Bakugou's body now feels: softened, tired, and pliant - a total opposite to the rigid aches he was plagued with an hour prior. This may very well have been Kirishima’s plan the entire time, or, perhaps it was just good luck on his side. Whatever the case may be, as Bakugou’s head lulls to the side to release lazy giggles while Kirishima’s fingers finally begin to cease their assault, he can’t deny how much easier it is to just relax and permit his frame to go limp against the bed’s surface. Soft pants echo around stray chuckles that don’t match the glare he shoots his boyfriend’s way.

“Aha.. I know, I know,” Kirishima muses, leaning to plant a swift kiss to the blond’s slightly sweaty forehead before he can try to languidly shove at him for the attack, “You can kick my ass after you have a nap. You look exhausted.”

“You look tired.” Mike said it over his toast, though Will had noticed he wasn’t eating much. Mostly just waving it around.

He rubbed at his neck. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Mike sat up straighter. “Are you having nightmares?”

“You sound like my mom.”

He let out a laugh, but the concern didn’t drop from his face. “I think living together is merging me and Mrs Byers into one person.”

“Oh god, don’t say that.” But he was laughing too. “I’m not sure what would be worse. Having you fuss over me or having to play DnD with my mom.”

“Speaking of fussing. You never answered me about the nightmares.” Mike knew that Will occasionally had them. Had said he’d be surprised if he didn’t get them.

Will shook his head. “No. Not recently, I just-”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Just can’t sleep lately.”

“Do you want me to sleep with you again?”

They’d done it twice. Remnants of their childhood, where their sleepovers always had Mike telling stories until Will fell asleep, usually curled up close to him. They were older now, and so the stories weren’t working as effectively, but the two times Mike had crept into the basement, as if realizing something was wrong, had brought with them a sense of calm that Will couldn’t always find on his own.

It didn’t surprise him that he nodded without giving it any thought. “Please.”

And Mike laughed at the desperation in his voice, though without malice. Will found that Mike always laughed when he wasn’t certain of how to react.

It started again because it was cold - dead of winter, in fact - and Will hadn’t told anyone of the way the basement was always slightly colder than the rest of the house at night, and he hadn’t told anyone of how he despised the cold now. They shared the couch because it was easier, their heads on opposite ends of it, and maybe Mike noticed the way he shivered and that was why he suddenly grabbed his foot under the blanket, not commenting on the way Will jumped.

“Jesus, you’re ice cold.”

Will exhaled slowly. “Aren’t you?”

“No?” Mike sat up. Will could see his silhouette in the dark, illuminated by the porch light someone had forgotten to turn off outside. “Will, I- let me warm you up, here.”

Will saw his held out hand and still didn’t move. “Mike-”

“Come over to my side.”

“You come over to my side,” he replied, but did as Mike said, always did as Mike said. And Mike laughed, that beautiful, rare laugh.

“I probably need another blanket,” he said when Mike wrapped his arm around him, something which hadn’t been unusual when they were children though they’d given it no name.

“Try to relax,” he said, which was easier said than done when this was the first, the very first in the past four years.

Will shut his eyes because it was easier. He felt entirely wide awake.

“Do you feel better?” Mike asked when the silence had stretched thin enough that it had nearly snapped. “Wait, is this why you’ve been sleeping badly?”

Will didn’t respond. That was how it started again. A moment of playfulness which had grown out of something rare. Will refusing to be truthful and Mike not being okay with that.

“Uhm, hello? Answer me.” The squeeze shouldn’t have surprised him, not accompanied by that tone, but it did, and Will’s elbow collided with Mike’s ribs around the same time as he cried out, and had Mike not known that he’d tickled him, he certainly knew it now.

But of course Mike had known about it. Mike was the master of it, or had been once.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.”

Will tried to turn over to look at him, because that was what you did when you apologized, but Mike huffed and tickled him again, this time gentler, brief enough that Will wondered if he’d imagined it had the ghost of the touch not lingered on his stomach.

“I forgot how ticklish you are,” Mike said when Will curled in on himself. He could hear his smile. How he smiled through the lie.

*

Mike knew they were fine, or at the very least going to be fine, when Will allowed him to tickle him again. When he wasn’t all guarded elbows and recoiling knees. When Mike had earned his tickle rights back and didn’t have to dance around it.

It took a while, though. Maybe that was his own fault for being so cautious. Will hated being treated like something fragile, but Mike wasn’t afraid of Will breaking as much as something breaking. Something which already had cracks along the edges. Something which didn’t fit quite right in his hands anymore.

That was his fault. His and a lot of other factors, but mostly his. He’d not realized that he didn’t navigate distance well, especially not when paired with a sudden and forced proximity. He thought the latter would save them, but he was just as clumsy up close. Now it was simply a lot harder to not accidentally drop it.

It was easier when they were with others, but that was maybe because they had no time to really think of anything other than to fix this mess they’d not asked to be a part of. If the air was filled with anything strange, they certainly didn’t have time to acknowledge it. It was at home that Mike found himself watching Will while being afraid to approach him. That had never been a problem before.

“You okay?” That was Dustin. Dustin, who hadn’t been okay in a long time. About as long as Lucas hadn’t been okay, though none of them had been suffering the way Will had and, by proxy, the way Mike still did. Silently. Bravely, in Will’s case.

“I’m fine.” Mike rubbed his eye. “Just tired.”

Dustin checked his watch. “I mean, you could go home and sleep.”

“I’m waiting for Will.”

Something flickered across Dustin’s face. It wasn’t the first time, though Mike opted to ignore it like he always did. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Jonathan’s coming with him, after all.”

Mike shifted from foot to foot. “It’s just easier if we all go together.”

“Right.”

“Shouldn’t you be going home?”

Dustin turned away. “Now why would I be doing that.”

Mike felt a surge of impatience then, which didn’t mix well with his exhaustion. “I’m gonna go get him actually. It’s late.”

It wasn’t a crawl night and so they wouldn’t be missed. Not usually one to want to be left out, it came as a surprise to both of them when Mike reached for Will’s arm and told him they should leave.

“You okay?” Will asked, stepping back to see him better. “Do you feel sick?”

Of all of this, Mike didn’t say. He shook his head. “Can we just go? I’m tired and I don’t wanna go home alone.” That much was true. Besides, Will looked tired too.

Jonathan offered to drive them, though he said nothing about staying, and so they shut the front door quietly as he drove away again, both of them unsure of what to do in the dark and quiet of the Wheeler house.

Mike peered into the kitchen. “You hungry?”

Will shrugged. “I could eat.”

He made them sandwiches and they ate them in the basement, afraid of waking someone, though maybe that was an excuse. Mike found he couldn’t trust himself anymore. Could never tell the truth apart from the rest.

“Hey.” Will’s hand on his arm. That look of concern on his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Who was Mike to break down in front of someone like Will, who had endured so much? Will who would reprimand him immediately if he knew he ever thought like that. Will who was always so kind even when Mike was not.

“I can’t believe I let you move to California.”

“Mike, what- do you think you had a choice in the matter?”

“I should’ve done something.”

“Do you think I had a choice?”

“No! No, of course I don’t think that.”

“I would never choose to leave.”

“Will, I know that.”

“I feel like you don’t.” His voice had gone low. “Is this why things have been weird? You think I left by choice?”

Mike stood. He had to stand. This was not something you did while sitting. “Listen to me. I don’t think you left by choice.” He emphasized each word, needing Will to believe him. Needing them both to believe him.

“But you think you had a say in the matter?”

“I should’ve at least tried.”

They stared at each other, having reached a dead-end and not knowing how to navigate it. Mike sat down again, mostly because he didn’t like how it felt looming over Will like that. His sandwich lay half-finished, Will’s more than so.

“We can’t change the past,” Will said, leaning forward to rest his elbows against his knees. “But we have a say in the present, right?”

“Right.”

“So let’s just move on from this stupid conversation and be Mike and Will again.”

Mike found himself smiling. “I’d like that.”

Will smiled back, something small and timid, but when Mike spidered his fingers over his knee, knowing he didn’t like it when you squeezed because it kind of hurt as much as it tickled, Will only jerked away on instinct with a laugh. No recoil. No hands reaching out to stop him until Mike did it again and again and it became too much. Mike and Will again.

*

Lucas could tell something had shifted when Will went to see him at the hospital. They never knew if they should talk as if Max could hear them or not when they were there, and so they danced around it, stealing glances her way as if she could see them. But Will wasn’t really looking at Lucas either that day, and he wasn’t sure why.

“Hi,” he said when he entered, shooting a smile in Lucas’ general direction before throwing himself on the chair beside him.

“Long day?”

Will exhaled. “Too long.”

“It’s only afternoon.”

“I know.”

Lucas leaned back, trying to determine if he was worried or not. Mike had been a forbidden topic, just like Will was a forbidden topic around Mike. Lucas and Dustin had never really talked about why, though he was sure they both had similar thoughts. Will entering the room in a Mike-shaped haze wasn’t new, but it felt stronger that day. It felt as if they needed to talk about it.

Lucas looked at Max. She was always so much better at this. He felt a wave of overwhelming sorrow wash over him as he took in her braids.

“Hey.” Will did look at him now. He wore vulnerability so loudly. Lucas had always admired that about him. “You okay?”

He shook his head and looked at Max again. She was good at this, but she didn’t know Will like he did and she would tell him as much. “Yeah, just miss her.”

Will nodded. “We all do.” Lucas knew that he didn’t mean that they missed her in the same way as he did, just like Lucas hadn’t missed Will in the same way Mike had.

He pursed his lips. How to approach this? “Did you know Mike would go sit by the ruins of Castle Byers on days where he particularly missed you? I don’t mean during your disappearance, but during California.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Though he obviously missed you during your disappearance too. But that was different. He was so determined to find you then. Now he just- I don’t know. Tried to lay with it.”

“Lay?”

Lucas had slipped his eyes shut to allow his friend the privacy of expressions, but he could hear that quiet hope in his voice anyway. “Yeah, lay. Mike Wheeler would never just live with that. He had to get beaten into submission, and then just lay there. Gaining strength.”

Will was quiet for a long time, but Lucas was fine with waiting. “He’s gained some strength,” he finally mumbled.

“Has he.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

Lucas let out a laugh. “You might have known him for a long time, Will, but so have I.”

When he looked at him again, Will was blushing. It was sweet. Max would’ve loved it.

“So what did he do?” he asked when they walked home later, shielded by the dark.

Will let out a strangled sound, which meant Lucas would be forcing it out of him unless he talked because that was just too good. But Will talked. Will seemed unable to not now. “He tickled me.”

Lucas’ laughter didn’t echo over Hawkins, but it did fill a very small section of its air, and that was enough.

*

“Is there a reason you’re sleeping in the basement, then?” Dustin felt proud of the restraint he showed, though Mike probably didn’t agree with him, if his spluttering was anything to go by.

“Will wanted company,” he snapped, rummaging through the clothes he’d left down there, which were certainly more than one set. “Shut up and let me find them.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“I can hear your presence.”

Dustin laughed, something light and genuine in his chest for the first time in months. He’d forgotten how fun it was to rile Mike up over the smallest things. Mike, who never protested when Dustin said Will was special to him. Mike who probably hadn’t allowed himself to feel anything properly in his entire life.

It was also dangerous, riling Mike Wheeler up about something like this. Dustin had to move with care. Preferably he shouldn’t be moving at all, but Dustin had grown bored of inactivity.

“So did you take the floor or?” he asked, not a single mattress in sight.

“We share the couch.”

“Ah, share, huh. I see, I see.”

“Dustin, can you help me find your stupid dice-”

“Why would you keep them in your pocket in the first place? At the very least fold your clothes with care, Jesus, Mike.”

“You sound like Nancy.”

“There are worse people to sound like.”

“There really aren’t- ah, found them.”

“You will take back your Nancy slander immediately or so help me.”

“Did you miss the part where I found your dice-”

“Can you guys hurry up?” Will’s voice from upstairs made both of their heads snap up. “We really don’t have all day.”

“Jeez, someone’s in a hurry,” Mike said, though there was something so fond in his voice. Something Dustin had never heard before, which really said something considering Mike's voice always dripped in honey whenever it came to Will.

“Oh my god.”

Mike turned toward him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Dustin.”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you laughing?”

Why was Dustin laughing? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that something - something revolutionary - had finally taken place, or was about to take place, and maybe something in this godforsaken world would finally go right. If Will was too shy and Mike was too much of a coward, then Dustin would have to make sure of it.

*

They were fine because Mike was tickling him again, which meant that Mike was playful again and Will was letting him in enough to be able to be playful with him. It wasn’t just about the tickling and they knew that, but Mike took the opportunity to poke at his ribs only because they were so close, so close, though they found that Mike’s bed squeaked more than the couch in the basement did and maybe they would have to sacrifice the heat up there after all.

They would be fine down there. They were warmer tangled up together down there. Maybe they would talk about it one day, but the world was in shambles and they didn’t need to have all the answers, not yet. As long as Mike was willing to reach out, to touch and tickle and not be afraid of it. As long as Will was willing to let him in without hesitation. Whatever form it all took. As long as they were Mike and Will, tickle fights and cold hard truths and bodies pressed together in the dark, maybe in a different way one day, when they were ready for it. In Hawkins, or somewhere else. 

Will brought his own school work, which was a little different than Mike’s. It’s an art project, to no one’s surprise, and it had to be perfect according to Will. Where he’s at with it is painting the smallest of details to his claymations of people, having to make sure his hands don’t wobble too much where he smudges the paint.

After forty-five minutes had gone by, he started to feel Mike’s eyes on him, watching him focused on painting. He didn’t mind it at all, until Mike started to nag him to help him with one of his own school work that required art, but not to the degree of Will’s. Still, it is something Mike has been dreading to start, not having a single artistic bone in him.

Mike kept the sad puppy dog face, oblivious to what Will was telling him to not do. “Just help me with it whenever you can, that’s all I’m asking.”

Will sighed, dabbing his paintbrush in a water cup to add a new color. “When you mean ‘help’, you actually mean for me to just do it for you, right?”

Mike slightly threw his hands up in mock offense, although Will was right on with his assumptions. “Of course not!” That earned Mike another side glance from him. “I just don’t know how to really start it, so maybe you can help me out with that. After, I swear I’ll take on the rest.”

Will groaned, but not from Mike’s suggestion. He swiped a little too harshly when painting eyes on one of the claymation people, making it look messy. He hated a messy look on his art.

Deciding to take a deep breath and fix it later, he starts putting his attention onto the small trees he made out of cardboard, grabbing a nearby glue stick. “Are you even done with your other homework you have?”

Mike, who is still laying on his stomach with his elbows propped up, only shrugged to his question. “I mean, sorta yea. I’m kinda waiting for you to finish up so we can start my art homework, that’s the most important one.”

Will shook his head. “I don’t remember agreeing to help you with it yet.”

Mike whined. “Oh c'mon, please?” He goes back to making the face everyone cannot say no to, scrunching his eyebrows a little high with his eyes slightly crinkled up. Will can sense it, and tries everything in his power to not look over his shoulder at Mike, no matter what he says.

“I still have my own I have to work on, which I’m literally doing right now. It’s going to take awhile, I’m sorry.”

Will hears Mike sigh dramatically, which has him bite the inside of his cheek to not comment on. He feels himself on the edge of it, on the edge of almost falling for it. The slight whine caught in Mike’s tone, the scrunch of his brows and crinkle of his eyes, having a sad longing expression written all over his face. It’s the infamous lost puppy dog face, and Will has witnessed so many lose to it.

He can’t. He won’t. This art project he’s doing is worth half of his grade, he can’t abandon it to start another that’s not even his. Mike is going to learn the lesson of patience today, and that you can’t always get everything you want, no matter how hard you try. Everything is fine, just focus on folding the green paper in a way that almost looks like leaves—

“I can’t believe it.” Mike’s voice pulls Will out of his train of focus, having him pause his movements yet again. He hasn’t looked over yet, though.

“Can’t believe what?”

“That you don’t love me.”

Will perks his head up, staring at the wall in front of him for a few seconds. His left hand does a little twitch, and he finally fully faces over to look at Mike, turning his entire chair around.

There he was. On the bed, wearing that stupid lost puppy face that he hasn’t dropped once, the one where Will has the sudden urge to wipe it right off of him.

“Okay, that’s it.”

Will got up from his chair, a little too fast for Mike as he flinched and started to sit up on the bed to put a bit of distance between.

Will moved in silence, avoiding Mike’s flailing hands to grab his wrists as he settled for a seat on his waist, not wasting any time on showing his true motives by shoving his hands directly to Mike’s underarms.

Thank god nobody was home and it was just the two of them, because Mike screamed bloody-murder.

“WAHAHAIT!” Mike spluttered out through his frantic laughter, cheeks becoming tinted pink in an instant over embarrassment from how easy it always is to take him down with just a couple of wiggling fingers to his skin. He absolutely hated walking around with “the most ticklish” title in the friend group, but thankfully for him most of the time he didn't get attacked unless it was well deserved.

Like right now, in only Will’s eyes.

“You just couldn’t leave me be, huh?” Will calmly talked over Mike’s giggly protests and pleas that fell on deaf ears, trying to press half of his face in a nearby pillow to muffle his laughs that are soon to become hiccupy. Will squeals when tickled to pieces, which Mike adores. For Mike, he hiccups, which Will adores. The littlest details in both their laughs that gets them to pray for opportunities to fall in their laps as an excuse to get one another.

“You just had to keep bugging me while I was doing my work.” His left hand started to travel lower, getting him on the start of his upper ribs. Mike bucked his hips, but Will barely moved from where he was sitting on his waist. Mike is starting to think that maybe joining Lucas whenever he heads to the gym isn’t a bad idea after all, because he would’ve already gotten out of this. He’s sure of it.

Will kept talking, ignoring how bad the rapid squeezing to Mike’s side is getting him to cackle nonstop. “You just had to go and try and trick me using your sad puppy dog eyes, huh? Did you really think that was going to work on me? I need you to think again.”

Will decided to have a heart and stop for a moment, letting him catch his breath. Mike furrows his brows in a mock of confusion, yet his big smile and sheepish giggles tell Will otherwise that he knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“Ihihi dohon’t— huh?? Puppy dog eyes…? Whahat do yohou mean—“ but Mike couldn’t finish his sentence as more giggles cut through, because Will started to lightly prod in various places around his stomach and sides as he narrowed his eyes down at him. “Oh yeah, act dumb, because that’s gonna make me stop tickling you.”

Will has been itching to go in for the kill, for the one spot that nearly has Mike see heaven itself from how terribly it tickles. He couldn’t resist anymore, and decided Mike didn’t deserve any build-up for it anyway, not today at least. After a couple of more pokes and prods up and down his sides, he all of a sudden latches his hands firmly on each side of Mike’s hips, poised for a brutal attack.

Mike was barely given any time to register what’s to come, gasping before letting a giggly shrill overtake him from fingers now rapidly pinching his hipbones, so loud it nearly had Will stop to cover his poor ears. Yet he just laughs alongside Mike over his ridiculous squirming that gets him nowhere and the hiccups in between his laughs that come from deep within the chest. God, he could do this all day if homework wasn’t silently calling his name this entire time, having to put an end to this soon.

“IHIHIM— IHIHIM—“ Mike squeezed his eyes shut to try and stop the tears from laughing so hard to roll down his rosy cheeks, but it’s quite inevitable. Will can’t help but start to softly smile down at the sight underneath him, resorting to scribbling at the hips so Mike can have a chance to speak.

“You’re…? You’re what?” Will teases gently, slowing the tickles altogether once he can tell that Mike’s giggly hiccups in between are starting to get painful. The sight of Mike being so relieved to finally bless his lungs with air, cheeks burning, body all limp has pulled Will’s heart strings a little, starting to rub small soothing circles on all the spots he targeted in the last three minutes as a quiet ‘sorry’ if he ever went too far.

He never goes too far whenever he tickles Mike, though. If anything, small disappointment waved over him the second Will stopped, wishing tickles didn’t tire him out so easily so it could go for longer without Will ever overthinking he’s done too much.

But of course, the thought of Will ever finding out how much this enjoys Mike would surely kill him on the spot from humiliation. He’ll continue to stay silent.

For now.

“I’m sohohorehehey…” He finished his sentence after a couple of more moments pulling himself together, slowly opening his eyes to look up at a smiling Will who holds so much love for him behind his gaze.

His hands go right back to his hipbones, resting there to give the illusion he’ll start back up again, having Mike flinch. “I don’t think you are.”

Will lets a few seconds go by of watching Mike let out another batch of giggly pleas, shaking his head, hands wrapping tight around Will’s wrists but not doing much to push back. He’s not even tickling him, yet Mike is doing so much laughing that it’s satisfying enough for Will to call it quits.

“But,” he swiftly gets off of Mike’s waist, heading back to his chair while biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning over Mike’s dumbfounded expression over him going back to his art project like nothing happened. He picks up where he left off on paper macheing the trees, grabbing the glue stick nearby that’s already got the cap off. “This project won’t finish itself, so I’ll let it go. For now.”

From behind, Will hears quiet shuffling, assuming Mike is sitting up to go fetch his own half unfinished homework, thinking how right Will is. It won’t finish itself.

However, he sees Mike pull his own wheeling chair next to Will from his peripheral vision, making him stop to look up with a raise of a brow.

“Then, when you’re done, you’ll hundred percent help with mine, yes?”

Cue the look.

In retrospect, he probably started suspecting it when El came into the picture, though it was buried beneath overwhelming dread for his brother’s well being. Will told him it was strange that he disappeared and then came back to one of his friends practically having a girlfriend, but the disappearance changed more than just that. Life was quite a lot more fragile after it, and so Jonathan was busy trying to navigate this. Trying to navigate a life after.

It saddened him that he couldn’t act like a regular older brother about this. Tease him. Gently encourage him. It wasn’t just about Will having a crush, and he knew that. Wishing he would talk to him, knowing Will would probably rather disappear again before opening up about this, and hating himself for all of it.

Then he saw the painting. He did so by mistake, having gone into Will’s room, which was rare nowadays, to talk about something, anything really, and found him staring at the canvas with a puzzled expression.

“You okay?” he asked, feeling as if he was trespassing even though he had knocked and had been granted access.

“Hm? Oh yeah, sorry. Just-” He waved his brush around, a bold move seeing as it was dipped in red. “Trying to figure out what’s off with it.”

“Can I see?”

Will visibly hesitated, which hurt more than Jonathan would ever talk about, before stepping back to allow him to get closer. “It’s not finished.”

Jonathan was taken aback by how obvious it was that he was drawing Mike fighting off some sort of monster. So taken aback that he barely noticed the outline of the rest of them. “It’s good. Really good.”

Will rubbed the back of his neck, always so proud and bashful at the same time. “You think?”

“Totally.” He was aware of probably sounding a little too enthusiastic, but it had been years since Will drew around others, probably longer since he’d shown him anything. Somewhere along the line he’d stopped using their kitchen table as a workspace, and Jonathan had been too busy with his own shit to notice.

“I can’t seem to get the dragon’s expressions right.”

“Are you gonna use the same expression on all three faces?”

“I was thinking different.”

Jonathan nodded. “That’s smart. I like that they look slightly insane.”

Will let out a laugh, visibly relaxing. “Insane was exactly what I was going for.”

They left the rest unsaid. Jonathan didn’t need to force it out of him, though Will letting him see it so clearly meant that he was okay with him knowing, even if they never talked about it. And that was something, at least.

*

They didn’t talk about girls. Partly because Jonathan didn’t talk about girls, which was one of the reasons he seemed to have such a hard time getting friends. Guys always wanted to talk about girls, or sports, or drinking, or all three. And Jonathan had fallen in love with Nancy at 16, but he still didn’t talk about her with others. She was simply none of anyone else’s business.

But being in a relationship meant that sometimes they talked about it, mostly in passing. If Jonathan came home upset, guilt and sorrow wrapped around him like a layer of wax he couldn’t crack. Will, and their mom, sometimes noticed, but Will, and their mom, had their own problems. The thing about their family was that they never pushed, unless it seemed absolutely necessary.

But sometimes Jonathan spilled without being prodded too hard. “You okay?” Will asked him after he’d had his first argument with Nancy. Will was small, so small still, but always so empathetic and willing to listen. Desperate to help.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said with a sigh which helped the wax crack, though not entirely.

Something flickered across his brother’s face. Something concerned, almost adult, which in retrospect was both alarming and hilarious because that expression didn’t belong on a 13-year-old. “Is it- relationship issues?”

And Jonathan laughed not because he wanted to, but because Will managed to crack the last of the wax so easily without realizing. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“I think so, bud.” He wrapped his arm around him, with the sudden, overwhelming urge to hold him close. “We argued, that’s all.”

“Shouldn’t you call and apologize?”

“What makes you think it was my fault?”

Will gave him a look that had him wrestling him onto the couch, worming his hands under his arms and relishing in that laughter. How long it had been since he’d heard it. How long it would be until he heard it again.

*

They didn’t talk about it when they moved in with the Wheelers, though Jonathan had to admit he kept a more watchful eye on his brother now. Not to monitor him - god knew Will needed space now more than ever - but because he wasn’t sure if any of them knew how to navigate this, him and Nancy included. The proximity had been god sent at first, but was turning into something occasionally heavy, occasionally oppressive and overwhelming.

Sometimes he hung out with them though, which was new and strange. He’d always been good at staying out of the party’s hair, mostly since they spent the majority of their time in Mike’s basement, which was now Jonathan’s bedroom. He could leave them be, even now. There was always another place to go to - he knew where to hide - but Will had told him he could stay. Had told him they were just watching a movie and wouldn’t mind him joining.

He wasn’t watching them more than the movie, but he did sneak glances their way. It had become second nature now, just to see if Mike was doing something oblivious that would require him to subtly comfort his brother later. He couldn’t even blame the kid. This was complicated, even though he sometimes wanted to strangle him for hurting Will. Will who was so easy to hurt already. Will who also kept sneaking glances Mike’s way.

He never knew what to do with it, this knowledge he sat on. It was ever present, and yet they never gave it a name. Never gave it a face or an identity. Though it sat with them always, this beating heart Will couldn’t kill.

He caught his brother’s eye accidentally. Hadn’t had time to look away before Will, as if sensing his gaze, swiftly craned his neck to look his way. Jonathan smiled, which made him blush. But he didn’t seem terrified of it. That was also new.

They didn’t talk about it after Mike had said goodnight and left, but he pulled his brother closer to him, gripped the back of his neck and gave his ribs a quick tickle, just as reassurance. And Will laughed and allowed himself to be pulled into Jonathan’s embrace, and had this been different, had they been a couple years older, maybe he would’ve told him to shut up when Jonathan wouldn’t stop grinning at him.

Mike Wheeler isn't the kind of guy to ask a whole lot from someone.

Unless that someone is his older sister Nancy, whom he might occasionally ask to cover for him when he inevitably sneaks off to his friends' houses, despite knowing very well that his curfew is ten.

Or maybe El, who has saved his life on numerous occasions—though she does this without needing to be asked—and sometimes agrees to partake in shenanigans that she really shouldn't, but does anyway, because it really is hard to say no to the person who has protected her ever since the day they met.

In those cases, sure. Maybe there were other instances as well, but regardless, it isn't like Mike is just cruising through life on favors and acts of kindness. So, when he asked his best friend in the whole world to teach him to draw, the curly-haired teen figured it wouldn't be a big deal. Fun, even.

It's times like these that he wished he had better judgment...

-----

"...Okay, but seriously, Mike. In what world was I going to guess that that's supposed to be a dog?"

Mike groans right into his paper, forehead pressed against the desk in an attempt to hide the flush of his cheeks. He doesn't even need to look up to know that Will is unsuccessfully trying to bite back a grin, eyes just barely scrunching at the corners with the effort of keeping up with his totally-serious-teaching facade.

"Dude, that's why I'm asking you to help me! I know nothing about sketching!" He exclaims, finally lifting his head, only to replace hardwood with his palms when Will suddenly finds something about his appearance striking enough to burst into laughter.

The Wheeler boy rubs at what feels to him like perfectly normal skin, but if the way the teenager next to him cracks up even harder at the action is at all trustworthy, he can just accept the fact that he's having a day full of incorrect assumptions.

"Thehere's.. It's graphite from your pencihil." Will can't help but giggle, and sure enough, Mike looks down to see gray smear across his face and hands, and whatever semblance of a canine that had once existed on his paper has now been made into even more of a blobby smudge than before.

It was a pitiful sight, really, and Mike must've realized that already, judging by how quick he was to scoot back from the desk with a huff, pouty face and crossed arms doing all they could to convince his friend that he didn't appear to be so invested in learning to draw after all. The unnatural coloring of his cheeks was proof enough that it was all in good fun, though, and Will was showing great restraint in not mentioning it.

"I'm resigning. Art just isn't my calling." The lankier of the two huffed, though he couldn't help but grin seeing Will go from teasing to pouty in such a short amount of time.

"No.. I was just kidding, Mike." the boy tried with an insistent look, getting a fresh piece of paper out and setting it over the white remnants of tree that, in all honesty, deserved much better than the fate they were given. "We can try something else if you don't want to draw animals anymore?"

For all of the stubborn bones in his body, Mike couldn't bring himself to refuse an offer from the boy he'd spent more time with than he could even remember, especially if that meant doing something with him that he cherished.

Even if Mike's own attempts were hot garbage...

With a sigh, Mike resigned himself to another round of embarrassment. He inched back to his place beside Will, turning to the much more experienced artist with an expectant look.

"Fine... What next?"

Will thought for a moment, then suddenly lit up, jumped from his seat, and rummaged around his room for a couple of seconds before depositing a messy stack of books in front of his friend.

"I can teach you perspective!" He smiled, already back in his chair and beginning to draw a couple of carefully-placed lines and dots along his paper that had Mike's head spinning before he was even given his first instruction. "I think you'll really like it."

Mike wasn't so sure he would. Regardless, he picked up his pencil and got to work on copying the setup his friend had made. He was offered a ruler to help his shaky line work, but the curly-haired teen dismissively waved it away.

"You've gotta use a ruler or the direction will be wrohong! Hey!" Will gasped, his face breaking into a surprised smile when that waving hand was smushed to his mouth. "Whahat are you dohoing?"

Mike just grinned, swatting at the hands that came up to fend off his own, soon relenting as he finished his... admittedly questionable work.

"Making you quit it! Just teach me how to do this!"

Will sighed, though there was something fond about it that Mike could see through the surface-level annoyance. He supposed that being able to really tell how Will felt was just a result of spending his entire life with him, and Mike didn't have a single complaint about being able to commit all of the person in front of him to memory.

"Well, you still did the first part wrong.."

"I did it perfectly! I didn't even need to use a ruler."

"Fine, fine." Shaking his head, Will went on to the next step. "Next, you draw a two-dimensional shape. Like the side of the books."

Mike nodded, and surprisingly enough, seemed much better at replicating shapes when there was an object of reference in front of his face.

Maybe Will had been taking the wrong approach this whole time...

"That dot you made on the line is your vanishing point.." the shorter gestured, lining up his ruler to the dot on his paper as Mike watched. "And all you have to do is connect your corners to the point."

Mike nodded, quickly scribbling more lines on his page, but before he could get very far, Will stopped him.

"Uhm, you've still gotta use your ruler. The whole point is for the lines to be straight. That's what gives it the three-dimensional effect."

"Nah, I'm giving my drawing personality."

"You're giving it trauma, Mike.." Will retorted, snatching the pencil away and clutching it to his chest with the instinct of a younger sibling when the other reached for it. "I won't stand for it! You've gotta listen to me to learn!"

Mike huffed, yanking at a laughing Will's arms in attempts to get his stick of wood back. The other boy twisted around in his seat, curling in on himself to make it harder for the other to gain any sort of leverage.

"Dude, gihive it back!" Mike griped, shoving hands into the jumbled-up ball of limbs next to him. He pried one of Will's elbows away from his body to shove a hand into the fray, grasping a handful of sweater and Will's flank in the process.

Suddenly, Will flailed with a shriek, causing a very startled Mike to back off with a flinch.

"Will? Sorry, did I-"

His concern was interrupted by frantic giggles as the teen jolted away from a second, much more hesitant touch at his shoulder.

"Noho! Dohon't you dahahare!"

Suddenly, it clicked. Will glanced up just in time to see an all-too-familiar smirk grow on his best friend's face, and he knew in that very moment that he was screwed.

"Willll..." Mike drawled, his tone teasing in a way that brought butterflies to the other's stomach.

If there was one thing that Will knew about Mike Wheeler, it's that he is not a nice person when it comes to tickling.

Well, it's not that he's evil per se, it's just that he has always had some strange infatuation with Will's laugh, and has spent so much time mastering the art of reducing his friend to a puddle of giggles that Will was surprised he hadn't grown bored of it.

In fact, it seemed as though the very opposite was true; Mike loved to see Will's endearing smile more than ever, and knowing all the ways to bring it out gave him a sense of satisfaction that nothing in the world could top.

The teenager brought two clawed hands up to loom over the other, smirking when Will gasped at the sight of his wiggling fingers.

"I'm gonna get you!~"

Will shook his head giddily, bringing his knees up to his chest with such a delighted look that it made Mike's heart swell. "Noho! Plehehease, Ihi can't!"

Despite smiley protests and wiggly limbs, it was clear that the artist wasn't going to be making any real effort to stop him. Mike knew Will never really did, and it just made him all the more happy to indulge in tickling him silly.

Still, Mike figured he'd be nice and at least offer a real chance of escape.

"Then give me my pencil back!" He held his hand out expectantly, snickering when Will just hugged the item tighter to his chest.

"Noho! You weren't eheven tryhying to draw propeherly!"

"Uhm, excuse me?" Mike gasped, abandoning mercies as he took to poking at Will's sides, the only spot left uncovered by the boy's knees. "I put my heart and soul into that drawing just like you do! I can't believe how rude you are!"

The artist squealed out a high-pitched noise the instant fingers made contact with his torso. He only managed to endure the prodding for a couple of seconds before his body was overcome with the urge to fight back. Will's legs slipped off his chair as he tried to grasp at Mike's fingers.

"Nahahao! Nahat what Ihi meant!"

His defense evidently wasn't going as well as he'd hoped, as any time Will would catch one of Mike's wrists, the curly haired-boy would just give his side a squeeze with the other hand and resume his attack when Will retreated to protect himself.

The cycle continued for a couple of seconds-though to Will it felt like ages, until finally he couldn't take it and retreated to the floor. He quickly grabbed one of Mike's hands, using it to push the boy away, and slunk out of his seat and down to the wooden floor below.

"Where are you gohoing? I'm nohot done with you yet!" The curly-haired teen easily followed his friend to the ground, laughing almost as much as Will was as he positioned himself at his side.

Said boy was currently in the middle of army crawling to freedom—or at least some kind of shimmy on wobbly limbs. Will almost fell on his face upon seeing Mike appear right next to him, scrambling away with a yelp at another poke.

"AHAH! MihiHIke!" he groaned through his laughter as Mike seated himself upon his waist, officially sealing his fate of a tickly demise. "Nononohoho, plehease!"

Will bucked his hips, trying to gain some kind of wiggle room, or at least flip over onto his back, but with the very little traction that the floor gave him, his limbs just slid around under him in a pitiful display.

Then, Mike's fingers found his ribcage, and Will was lost again to bright laughter.

"You know, I like doing this much better than drawing." Mike hummed, his nails gliding over Will's lower ribs, tracing gentle shapes over his frame.

The lanky teen readjusted his weight over Will when he was almost thrown off with a sudden jolt.

"...Hey, Will? You think tickling could be considered an art form?"

"Whahat are yohoHOU- eek!- tahalking about?!" Will squeaked, sacrificing the protection of his arms pressed to his sides to try and fend off the sensation at his ribs. However, the instant he reached for Mike, those nimble fingers just pressed themselves into his armpits, and Will clamped down on them with a squeal.

"PFFTAHAH! MIhiHIHIKE, nohOHO!"

"Well, you always say that you do art to express yourself! Like when visuals come easier than words." Mike says, almost too casually considering the mess of a boy still underneath him. Still, Will just laughs on, writhing and kicking, and Mike continues. "And this is basically doing the same thing! I bet I can guess exactly how your feeling right now just by your face."

Mike leaned forward to peer at Will's features, and immediately was awestruck at the sight of him. Will's cheeks and ears were painted a bright red, prettily contrasting his watery, hazel eyes that were trying and failing to squint into a glare. His lips were hiked so high on his face that Mike almost wanted to check in and make sure it didn't hurt, but even more than that, he just wanted to kiss him. He really wanted to kiss Will, and feel that smile against his own lips as they laughed and rough-housed.

Suddenly, the taller was yanked out of his thoughts by Will's pitchy yelling. It took a whole three seconds before he came back to Earth and remembered that he should probably be paying more attention at a cackled-

"SohoHOME- MIHIHIKEHE! SOHOHOMEWHEHERE EHELSE!"

"Rihight, sorry." Mike pulled his hands out from under his friend's arms, moving to scritch at his lower back instead.

Will's legs flailed gently behind them, mostly kicking at Mike in a giddy rhythm as he worked on regaining his breath. He propped up on his elbows to swivel his upper half around and glance over at Mike. One look at that messy hair and wide smile, and the Wheeler boy knew he was hopeless.

"Hey, Will? Where'd the pencil go?"

There was a pause as the pair scanned the room for the whole reason any of this started.

"Uhuhm... I think I lohost it."

Mike chuckled, squeezing at the other boy's waist until he was properly fought off. He pulled away for real this time, and Will slumped into the floor, though a soft smile still graced his features.

"Whahat- What feeling did you see?"

"...Huh?"

Will laughed, gently pushing Mike off of him so that he could sit up the rest of the way.

"The art thihing, dummy. What feeling do you think I'm expressing?"

Mike gazed at his friend, and Will stared right back. Those golden eyes boring right into his soul and twisting up his insides in ways he thought was only possible in comics and tv shows. Then, Will reached for his hands, and Mike let him take them. Gosh, he would let him take the entire world if it meant getting to look into his eyes again.

"I- I think I can show you better than my words can.." Mike whispered, suddenly unsure and flushed and hoping that out of all of his decisions, this one wouldn't be one to regret.

But then Will let go of his hands, and Mike's heart dropped until he felt warm palms cup his cheeks, and everything felt right in the universe as he leaned in closer to Will and kissed him.

Mike clung to Will's shoulders, feeling fluttery and bright and oh-so-happy, until Will pulled away to look at him again.

"Mike... Remind me to never teach you to draw again."

And then Mike was laughing, worming his fingers around Will's sweater to tickle his neck in retaliation. Then they were kissing again; he could feel Will smiling, and Mike was certain that nothing could ever be better than this.

He couldn't ask for more.

Jonathan slowly reached his hand out and placed it gently on Will’s knee. If Mike noticed, he didn’t say anything. Will didn’t stir. But when Jonathan sharply pinched his fingers around his kneecap, he jolted with a yelp and nearly headbutted Mike in the face.

“Hey!” Will sleepily glared at Jonathan, trying to push his hand away. “Why?”

“You’re sleeping,” Jonathan supplied. “I’m just trying to help you stay awake for the movie.”

“I am not sleeping…” Will mumbled, but everyone knew it was true. Mike was grinning. Jonathan squeezed Will’s knee again and was rewarded with another yelp and a hissed stop it from his brother.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you could stay awake. I’m just being a good brother.”

“You’re not being a good brother, you’re just being an a - ah!”

“Mhm, yeah, finish that sentence, Will.”

Jonathan had placed his hand on the centre of Will’s belly, vibrating his fingers and grinning at the sudden, bubbly laughter pouring out of Will. “Jonathan!” He squealed.

Jonathan shifted enough to stuff his fingers into Will’s underarms - he was still waking up and his body wasn’t coordinated yet, so he wasn’t quick enough in slamming his arms down. Will jolted forward into Jonathan’s chest, his body’s desperate attempt at stopping the attack. Pleading could be heard amongst the cackling, but it was stuttered and kept getting lost.

“Jonath - why! No, I - dohohon’t!”

Jonathan laughed right along with him. Will may be getting older, but he’d always be Jonathan’s little brother and best (and cutest) source of entertainment. Jonathan looked up and saw Mike smiling - when they made eye contact and Jonathan quirked up his eyebrows, Mike grinned even wider.

Will squeaked rather loudly when fingers squashed into the side of his neck, right in the conjunction where it met his shoulder and tickled the most, turtling up yet failing to protect the area.

“No, Mike,” he whined. “N-not you toohoo-“

“You sounded like a mouse just now.”

“Shut uhup!”

Will’s eyes were half shut from the force of his smile and laughter, so he couldn’t see the fond grin on Mike’s face.

Jonathan could, though.

Usually only Jonathan could tickle Will into the current state he was in. His friends could definitely get him hysterical, there was no doubt about it (and fairly easy, with how sensitive Will was); but Jonathan knew just how to adjust his fingers to send his brother over the edge, knew all the secret little techniques and ticklish spots that had him laughing the hardest (such as the gentle pinching motion with fingernails across the skin on the back of Will’s flanks, as Jonathan was currently doing, eyebrows shooting up when Will was so desperate to get away from the feeling that he practically jumped into Mike’s lap with a shriek so high it could break glass).

But every touch of Mike’s seemed to have Will in almost the same state; he had grabbed the top of Will’s ear between his thumb and the side of his pointer finger, holding it so gently and moving his fingers so microscopically yet intentionally and perfectly that Will nearly sobbed when Mike’s hand stayed right there, basically paralyzing him to the point where he couldn’t even begin comprehending an attempt to flee. Jonathan wasn’t sure if it was because Mike possibly knew Will nearly as well as Jonathan, or because literally anything Mike did had such a dizzying effect on Will that he lost all control.

Jonathan supposed it was a bit of both.

“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad,” Jonathan teased. Will tried to retort, but when he opened his mouth Jonathan scuttled his fingers across Will’s stomach, making him snort instead. Will’s hands moved from covering his mouth to reaching for Jonathan or Mike’s hands to waving desperately in front of him, head tilted back and shoulders shaking with bright laughter.

When Mike moved his hands to press his fingertips into the creases between Will’s hips and thighs while Jonathan latched his hands onto Will’s knees again, Will shrieked so loud that both his attackers burst out laughing and stopped ticking him.

“Ouch, Will,” Jonathan said, jokingly rubbing his own ears. “You’re going to make us go deaf!”

“You’re going to wake Holly with a sound like that!” Mike added, but he was smiling.

Will could only continue giggling as he caught his breath. “It’s… not my fault…”

“See, this is why it’s safer to stay awake during movies,” Jonathan said.

“But… hah… did you hahave to wake me up that way?” Seriously, Will’s residual giggles were unfairly sweet.

“Older brother rights.”

“Mike’s not my older brother!”

“Okay, fine. Older brother and Mike rights.”

Will groaned dramatically, but his cheeks definitely reddened. Jonathan stored that away for later. “What about Will rights?” Will asked.

Mike started poking sporadically across Will’s chest and collarbones, restarting Will’s bubbly giggles and making him try and curl up.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” Mike said in a mock-serious voice.

“Mihike! Are you- ah! Are you seriously giving me m-my Miranda rights? Ahah!”

“…you have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you…”

Will finally managed to roll back over to Jonathan, who could only throw an arm around his shoulders and laugh along. “Okay, okay. Your rights state that we’ll leave you alone now… if you stay awake for the rest of the movie.”

Will grinned shyly, giggled once more. “I’ll really try.”

However, the ticking seemed to completely wear Will out. Within 15 minutes he was leaning into Jonathan, fast asleep again.

It was a good thing the tickling seemed to tire out Jonathan, too, his head leaned against the back of the couch, soft snores leaving his nose.

Mike quietly leaned into Will. He managed to make it to the end credits before he fell asleep. And when Nancy found them like that a couple hours later, she simply covered them all with a blanket, kissed each forehead, and smiled.