#hellooooooooooooooooooo

Mike can barely move, every muscle in his body pulled tight on the couch cushion he’s sharing with Will. Will’s stiff next to him, too, but just the barest bit more relaxed, sleepiness loosening his posture where it slumps against Mike’s.

Coarse fabric brushes against Mike’s other side, and he bristles, pushing closer to where Will is already practically glued to him, forcing him further into the arm of the chair.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Will whispers – the other Will, the one sitting on his other side – and he says it so gently it sounds like he’s trying to keep from spooking a wild animal.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” the other Mike says from over the other Will’s shoulder, punctuated with an eye roll.