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It was the middle of the night when Will's phone rang, the shrill sound breaking the tranquil silence that hung in the air of his studio apartment. The first ring pulled him from his slumber, causing him to jolt out of bed in a haze of grogginess and confusion. By the third ring, he had stumbled over to the far wall, picking up the phone and holding it to his ear.
"Hello?" he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. He blinked twice, his eyelids heavy.
Will was only met with silence on the other end of the line. Ugh, he got out of bed for a prank call.
He started to move the phone away from his ear, to hang up, when--
"Will?" a voice finally called out through the phone, one that Will recognized immediately. His heart skipped a beat as his breath stuttered.
"Mike?" He paused, waiting for a response that didn't come. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"
"No," Mike choked out, sniffling, and Will realized he was crying.
"Do you want me to come over? I- I can be there in ten, I'll grab my coat right now--"
"I'm not home," Mike interjected. Will didn't speak, giving Mike the chance to explain. The silence carved out a hole in Will's stomach and let a coil of dread make a home in his gut. Mike hadn't called him in the middle of the night in months, not since that one night he'd begged Will to come over after a nightmare and they'd spent the night ensconced in one another's arms. The night neither of them had brought up since.
But this sounded different. Worse, probably. And Will was terrified, always worried for Mike and ready to do whatever he could to help him.
"I can't go home," Mike continued shakily. "I couldn't-- I don't know what's wrong with me. I just couldn't get inside, I don't know-- I just-- I didn't know what to do."
"Did you lose your keys?" Will asked, confused, keeping his voice gentle and soothing to the best of his ability, mirroring the voice Mike always used for him whenever he was distressed.
"I have them, I just-- I couldn't-- I--" he cut himself off, gasping for breath, and Will's heart couldn't take hearing this anymore.
"Do you know where you are? I'll come get you, Mike," Will offered, praying Mike would be able to give him a location that Will could run to without needing to sink time into taking the subway.
"Mhm," Mike answered, and then he took a few shaky deep breaths before responding. "I'm at a pay phone, not-- not a phone booth, I couldn't-- I don't know what's wrong, but it's the one outside the convenience store--"
"The one with the good milkshakes?"
"Yeah," Mike answered. "I'm sorry, Will, I'm really sorry."
"It's okay, I swear," Will promised. "Can I hang up and come get you now? Are you gonna be okay for a few minutes?" Mike hummed a noise of affirmation. "Okay, I'm gonna hang up now, okay?"
"Okay. Thank you, Will," Mike breathed, and Will wished he could teleport to Mike right now, to see the look on his face and make his pain go away.
"Of course," Will replied, and then he returned the phone to the wall and threw on his coat and shoes, dashing out the door without another thought. Thankfully, the convenience store in question was less than ten minutes away, so Will was able to make it on foot.
He turned the corner at the facade of the convenience store, and there was Mike, sitting on the ground below a pay phone, knees pulled tight to his chest.
"Hey," Will said breathlessly, winded from rushing all the way to the store. Wordlessly, Mike jumped to his feet and wrapped Will in a tight hug. He smelled faintly of alcohol, and Will instantly started fretting over the millions of things that could've gone wrong for Mike to end up crying on the sidewalk in the middle of the night with the scent of vodka lingering on his breath.
"I'm sorry I woke you up," Mike mumbled, his voice muffled by the collar of Will's jacket. "I just didn't know what to do," he confessed, and Will immediately felt a pang of guilt after his mind jumped to the realization that calling Will was Mike's only solution.
"It's okay, Mike, I promise," Will soothed, ignoring his own thoughts and focusing on what mattered, which was comforting Mike. He still had no idea what was wrong with Mike, what had happened, but he didn't want to pry while Mike was so clearly distressed. And then, in a surge of boldness, he asked, "do you want to come back to my apartment?"
"Please," Mike answered, his voice small and wet with gratitude. He held onto Will for a moment longer before pulling away, and then Will led him back through the dimly lit city streets to his apartment. As they walked in silence, Will's mind spun with what he had to do once they arrived. He’d get Mike a glass of water, maybe something salty to eat, and lend him a change of clothes, if Mike didn't think that was too weird. Then he'd offer him the couch, or no, he should let Mike have his bed, and he'd take the couch, and then in the morning, he'd make them a little morning coffee and gently ask Mike about what had happened the night before. That was enough, right?
Finally, they got to Will's apartment building, and Will stepped into the front entrance and buzzed himself in with his apartment code on autopilot.
Once the door was open, he turned around to find Mike still standing outside.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "You can come in, it’s okay, I promise, I've got you." He reached a hand out to Mike, albeit a little awkwardly, as he was still holding the door open, but to his relief, Mike took his hand and tentatively stepped inside, his demeanor like a doe taking its tremulous first steps.
"I don't..." Mike muttered under his breath, his brows furrowed, and then he trailed off. Will flashed him a concerned look. When Mike didn't finish the thought, Will took the initiative to start towards the stairs and just get them into the apartment before Mike gave him any more reason to worry. Mike followed him all the way to the apartment door, trailing behind him like a duckling, not saying a word. Will wondered if Mike was still tipsy, or if whatever had happened to him tonight had sobered him up.
Will unlocked the door and Mike followed him inside. He shed his coat and shoes, Mike followed suit, and then Mike left Will in the doorway, settling down on the couch.
"Do you want me to get you anything?" Will asked.
"...Can you just come sit?" Mike replied, and Will automatically moved to the couch without another thought. He didn't say another word, leaving it up to Mike where the conversation went.
For a moment, Will worried the heavy silence would never be broken. To his relief, Mike finally continued.
"I couldn't get into my apartment," Mike confessed, echoing his words from earlier. "I just-- just couldn't walk inside. There wasn't anything stopping me... I don't know." He paused, taking a shaky deep breath, eyes darting down to Will's neck and back up to his face. "Before... I went out tonight, and I never go to the bar alone," he continued, and Will knew that to be true, because he was usually right there with Mike, or knew Mike was safe with some of his other friends. "I only had one drink. But I don't-- I don't remember," he continued, his voice catching on the last syllable as his breath hitched, and now tears were budding in his eyes again. Moving on instinct, Will put his hand on Mike's, praying that the gentle point of contact would be soothing and grounding. Mike's gaze dropped to the floor.
"I think I passed out," Mike finally admitted, his voice low, almost inaudible. "I only had one shot, but I guess I don't know... I don't know, I don't know what happened, and then I couldn't walk into my apartment, and my head hurts, and my mouth, and it was just so cold outside but I couldn't do anything, and I was just so, so scared, Will. I don't know what happened, I don't know."
He sniffled, wiped the tears from his eyes, and looked up at Will.
"But, um, thank you for rescuing me," Mike added, punctuating his words with a wet laugh.
"You don't have to thank me," Will replied instantly. "I'm just happy you're here, and you're safe."
"Yeah," Mike agreed. His pupils were blown out wide, Will realized faintly, and before he could dwell on that, Mike pulled him into an even tighter hug, squeezing with such ferocity that Will couldn't escape if he wanted to, which of course he didn't. Mike nestled his head in the crook of Will's neck, and the tender proximity was enough to quell the storm of worries that was Will's brain, if even for just a moment.
He held onto Mike even as he shook, his chest wracked with quiet sobs. Will could feel the collar of his shirt getting damp, but he didn't budge. Instead, he rubbed gentle circles into Mike's back and let him cry, let him release all his stress and emotion from the past few hours. Will had never seen Mike cry this much in his life, he realized, and the thought terrified him. His mind flew to one horrifying conclusion after another. Mike could've been drugged, anything could've happened to him, and not knowing made the whole situation scarier.
Finally, Mike took a deep breath and pulled away from Will, reaching instead for the tissue box on his side table. Will got up to get Mike a glass of water, making sure to grab the Garfield cup that he knew was Mike's favorite. He filled it with cold water and brought it back to Mike, who grabbed it with a soft 'thank you' and took a slow sip.
"Do you want to borrow pajamas?" Will asked.
"If that's okay," Mike replied, his voice raw.
"Yeah, of course." Will made his way into his bedroom, even if it pained him to leave Mike sitting alone after he’d just been crying. He grabbed a pair of soft blue pajama pants and a t-shirt, and then hurried back to the couch, to Mike. Will found him staring off into space, eyes lidded, blinking slowly, and it registered for Will that he’d forgotten how late at night it was, amidst all the adrenaline and nervousness.
“Here,” he said, handing Mike his clothes. “You can change in my room, if you want?” Mike nodded, getting up and walking into Will’s room. Once the door clicked shut, Will sank down onto the couch with a deep sigh.
In the back of his mind, tendrils of guilt started to take root. He should’ve been with Mike, tonight, and maybe none of this (whatever this even was) would’ve ever happened. Or he could’ve invited him over, and Mike wouldn’t have gone out alone!
But he couldn’t have known anything bad was going to happen to Mike.
He took a shuttering breath in, and on the exhale, Mike opened the bedroom door and stood in the doorway, as if he was waiting for Will.
“Are you okay?” Will asked, and he suddenly felt stupid for asking that so many times throughout the course of the night, because of course Mike wasn’t okay, but he just didn’t know what else to say or do to try and make things alright for Mike.
“Are you, um…” Mike started, his tone sheepish as he kept his gaze trained firmly on the floor. “Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” And Mike’s voice was so small, so reminiscent of when he was younger and begging Will to sleep over and spend the night with him that Will’s heart ached, and Will felt weak. He should just say he was taking the couch, let Mike have his space, but instead, he found himself faltering in a moment of weakness.
“Up to you,” he replied gently.
“Can you come sleep with me? I don’t want to be alone right now,” Mike admitted, and Will immediately nodded, ignoring how his heart soared at the idea that he was needed, and followed Mike into the bedroom.
In the time that he’d been changing, apparently, Mike had also pulled the spare blankets and pillows from Will’s closet and arranged them on the bed into some nest-like pillow fort amalgamation. Will chuckled softly, memories of childhood sleepovers playing in his head.
Mike looked at him, eyes wide.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice now thickened with sleepiness. “I just, um, wanted it to be comfortable. I don’t know.”
“It’s okay,” Will soothed, getting in bed first so that Mike could situate himself however he saw fit. Mike had always been cuddly during sleepovers when they were little, and Will would never forget the last time he had shared a bed with Mike, so it wasn’t a shock when Mike climbed into the bed and curled into Will’s side.
“Goodnight, Will,” Mike mumbled drowsily.
“Goodnight, Mike. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Promise you won’t leave?”
“I promise,” Will vowed, earning a small content hum from Mike.
It didn’t take much for Will to drift off after that, chest rising and falling in tandem with Mike’s. The next morning, he awoke to the shrill sound of his alarm clock pulling him from sleep.
“Holy shit, it’s so bright in here,” Mike groaned. Will hit the alarm clock, silencing it.
“Do you want me to close the curtains?” Will offered.
“Please,” Mike whined. “My eyes feel like they’re burning, oh my god, it’s like the sun is out to get me.”
Will stepped out of bed, away from the warmth of Mike’s body, and pulled the curtains shut, bringing a comfortable darkness into his bedroom.
“Thank you! Oh, you’re my hero, Will,” Mike joked. Will giggled, giving in to the part of himself that begged him to crawl back into bed and rest for a while longer. He didn’t have work today, thankfully, so he truly could just spend the day with Mike.
And worry about him.
Was it a hangover or the after-effects of some drug that was causing Mike to be so sensitive to the light, or just normal drowsiness from how he surely hadn’t gotten enough sleep? And now, yeah, Will realized that Mike’s eyes were already shut again, and he was surely letting sleep drag him back under, which Will couldn’t fault him for. Still, he couldn’t help but worry.
Will took a deep breath, pushing his worries away for the time being. He’d promised Mike he wouldn’t leave him alone, he recalled, and he decided it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to sleep a few more hours of the day away.
When he woke up again, the process was peaceful, rather than abrupt. He opened his eyes slowly, naturally, and found that Mike was somehow still asleep, head now resting on Will’s chest. Will turned to look at his clock and balked at the fact that it was almost one in the afternoon.
Gently, he shook Mike’s shoulder, trying to wake him up so they could start their day.
“Will?” Mike mumbled, still half asleep.
“Good morning,” Will whispered. Mike groaned, burying his face in the fabric of Will’s t-shirt.
“Will, ‘m so tired,” he whined. Will chuckled softly.
“Okay, well, I’m gonna go make breakfast. Or, lunch, I guess. Brunch? So you can come with me, if you want, or you can go back to sleep and I’ll wake you up when the food is ready.” Mike hummed in contemplation.
“Fine,” Mike groaned, sitting up. Will smiled and got out of bed, and Mike followed him to the kitchenette. Mike sat down at the kitchen table as Will sifted through his pantry to find the ingredients for pancakes. He flicked on the radio as he cooked, letting music fill the air as he turned on the stove and made his mom’s pancake recipe that she’d taught him years ago. Mike just sat and watched him, blinking slowly, clearly not fully awake.
When the first batch of pancakes were ready, he plopped them onto a plate and brought it over to Mike along with a bottle of syrup.
“Thank you, Will,” Mike said gratefully, his pupils just as blown wide as they’d been last night. Will gave him a sweet smile and returned to the stovetop to make the rest of the pancakes. After flipping the second batch, he glanced back at Mike, who was pushing a piece of a pancake around in a puddle of syrup without bringing the fork up to his mouth.
“Are you okay?” Will asked. “I can, um, make you something else if the pancakes aren’t good.”
“No, no, they’re great,” Mike rushed to reply, “I just don’t feel good. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Will started, but before he could continue, Mike shoveled a huge bite into his mouth as if to prove everything was okay.
It didn’t assuage Will’s constant stream of worries about him.
After brunch, they migrated to the couch and Will let Mike put on a movie, but even The Princess Bride couldn’t keep Will from spiraling. He tried to come up with a reason that Mike would be so sensitive to the sun, possibly dealing with a loss of appetite, and for some reason, unable to get into his own apartment, but he couldn’t think of anything. It had to be some drug affecting him, something in a spiked drink that was getting to him, but Will didn’t know anything about drugs. And why would a person spike someone’s drink and then not do anything to them was lost on Will. (Will didn’t want his mind to jump to what could’ve happened to Mike while he was passed out, so he cut off the train of thought right there.)
But what if whatever Mike drank was still in his system? What if he got sick from it?
Maybe he should go to the library and try to find a book on drugs, if that was a thing. Maybe he could research Mike’s symptoms and see if there was anything he could do to help him.
“Do you wanna come with me to the library?” Will asked once the movie was over. He didn’t add the part about trying to find any information on what happened to Mike, if only just to not get his hopes up in case he failed.
Mike looked conflicted, staring up at Will with wide eyes.
Will wished he could know what was going on in Mike’s head.
“We can get changed first, if you’re okay borrowing my clothes again,” Will added. “The library is just down the street.”
“Okay,” Mike agreed tentatively.
“You can stay here if you want,” Will reiterated. “It’s up to you.”
“No, no, I wanna come with you,” Mike insisted. Will smiled, and they went to get dressed. Will gave Mike free rein of his closet, but it was still surprising to see Mike walk out of his bedroom in one of Will's favorite flannels, and how nice it looked on him.
"Do you have a hat I can borrow?" Mike asked. "Or, like, sunglasses? I just peeked out the window, and it's so bright outside."
"Oh, yeah, sure, lemme find something for you." Will rummaged around the apartment until he found a baseball cap and sunglasses, tossing them both to Mike, and threw a hat on himself as well. Then, the pair donned their coats and left the apartment building.
"It's not that bright out," Will commented once they were strolling down the sidewalk together.
"Yes it is," Mike insisted with a whine.
"You're probably just used to cooping yourself up in your apartment and writing for hours with the curtains drawn," Will teased. Mike scoffed lightheartedly.
"Don't act like you don't prefer how consistent artificial lighting is when you're painting, William," he retorted, his tone jokingly mocking. "There's a reason your curtains are so dark!" Will laughed. "But seriously, the sun is like, painful, I don't know how you're not dying right now."
"Are you hot?" Will asked.
"No...?" Mike replied tentatively. "I just... I don't know, actually." He sounded confused, and he definitely wasn't the only one.
"Well, don't worry, the library's only another block away."
Once they got to the library, they ascended the front steps in tandem, only for Mike to stop inches short of the front door, a nervous look painted on his face. Will opened the door and turned around to see Mike.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I don't..."
"I promise, it's okay, you can come in," Will reassured, not wanting Mike to spin out over whatever mental block was scaring him at every doorway he faced.
Mike nodded briskly, relaxing as if Will had lifted a weight from his shoulders.
He followed Will into the library, and then Mike declared that he was going to browse the fiction section. Will took this as his chance to go up to librarian and ask his question.
"Excuse me? Do you guys have any books on, um, drugs?" he asked, and then immediately chastised himself for how stupidly suspicious that sounded. The librarian raised an eyebrow at Will's question, but thankfully, she answered.
"If I'm not mistaken, we have a book that was just returned," she said. "It's still on the returns cart waiting to be put away, but you're welcome to come take a look."
"Thank you!" Will chirped, and the librarian smiled at him with the look adults always used to give him as a kid when he was polite, as if they couldn't help but be endeared by him. The look was a little out of place now that Will was an adult looking for a book on drugs, but he didn't mind.
He walked over to the returns cart, and thankfully, there actually was a book on drugs, their origins, and their symptoms. Will rejoiced at this stroke of luck and took the book off the cart, heading to sit down in a nearby chair. Mike was still nowhere in sight, so he started flipping through the book.
There were pages on hallucinogens, lots of information on cocaine, quaaludes, and heroin, but nothing that sounded even remotely like something that Mike's drink could've been spiked with. Will groaned in frustration.
Maybe Mike's drink was perfectly fine, a hopeful part of his brain whispered. But then where were his symptoms coming from? Was he just sick? Maybe he was just suffering from a weird cold, and Will was just paranoid?
Will sighed and got up from his chair, walking back towards the returns cart to put the book back.
He slid the book back into place, and his eyes drifted to the large book next to it.
It was a book about mythical creatures, spells, and curses.
Will chuckled to himself.
Imagine Mike had been cursed by an evil spell, or something? That would be funny. Maybe he could find a magic spell in the book similar enough to what Mike had been going through, and then he could joke with Mike about wizards and curses and lighten the mood, bringing a smile to his best friend's face.
He grabbed the book from the cart and went back to his chair.
The section on mythical creatures was first, and Will thumbed through an alphabetical list of mythical creatures from all different types of mythology. Centaurs, dragons, fae, mermaids, naga, selkies, unicorns...
And he stopped on the page about vampires.
His eyes landed on a sentence about how vampires were extremely sensitive to sunlight, or how in some stories, sunlight was deadly to them. And that wouldn't stand out to him if it weren't for the paragraph below it.
Vampires are unable to enter a building without being invited in, it read. And Will's mind immediately conjured up the memory of Mike crying over how he hadn't been able to get into his apartment, about how Mike hadn't stepped into Will's own apartment building until Will had told him that it was all gonna be okay and that he could come in.
He frantically skimmed passages about how vampires relied on the comfort of a coven, slept in extravagant nests of blankets in their dark manors, and most of all, didn't have an appetite for normal food because the only thing that could satiate their hunger was blood.
That... was a weird coincidence, Will thought to himself.
Mike didn't have fangs, though, or red eyes, or unusually pale skin. Will would've noticed that.
The idea that vampire fledglings, which is what the book called vampires who had just been turned, took some time to develop into their physical appearances, taunted Will from the page.
Mike would laugh at this, Will decided. Memories of Mike animatedly telling stories with fake vampire teeth in flashed in Will's brain, and he decided that this would be a perfect joke to show Mike.
As if perfectly on cue, Mike bounded over to Will, carrying a stack of books.
"Mike!" Will chirped. Mike put his books down and sat in the chair next to Will's. "Look, it's you!" he said, turning the book to show Mike. Mike's eyes darted back and forth as he skimmed the page, a small smile creeping onto his face.
"Wait, yeah, this is so funny," Mike agreed. "Except I didn't get bitten by a vampire, so... oh, wait, it says vampires can feed humans their blood, or vitae, it's called, and then that's what turns them into a vampire, in some mythology. Huh, yeah, I guess! That's cool." Will nodded.
"It's just a funny coincidence, since you had the whole thing with, like... not entering buildings."
"Oh. Yeah."
Their conversation lapsed into awkward silence, after that. Will shouldn't have brought that up, he thought to himself. It was such a weird coincidence, though. He couldn't think of an actually logical reason why Mike would be hesitant to enter buildings...
Okay, but Mike didn't drink blood, and vampires weren't real, so. Yeah.
Will returned the book to the cart, Mike checked out his stack of novels, and they headed back to Will's apartment.
Despite his better judgement, though, the idea of vampires being a real thing played on loop in Will's mind as Mike whined about how bright the sun was, despite it being cloudy now.
Maybe once they got back to Will's building, he could run a test.
As a joke, obviously.
And just... not tell Mike he could come inside?
Part of Will knew that this was a bad idea, because obviously vampires weren't real. Plus, Mike had been through so much in the past twenty-four hours that this was probably cruel.
Still. If he wasn't a vampire, he should plausibly be able to get inside without verbal permission from Will, right? It wasn't like cocaine stopped people from getting into apartments.
They made it back to the apartment building, Will buzzed himself in, and he held the door open for Mike without saying a word.
"Will?"
"Yeah?"
Mike stared at Will with wide eyes, shoulders tense, biting his bottom lip nervously.
"I, um..."
"What's wrong?" Will asked.
"I think there's something wrong with me," Mike uttered, his voice a low, horrified whisper. "I just-- I can't--"
"Try to take a step forward," Will urged gently, carefully phrasing his sentence as a suggestion rather than permission. Mike shook his head fervently.
"I can't," Mike whined.
Will felt like he was being mean, hated how Mike was suddenly so visibly distressed. But he'd been walking all this time, so Will couldn't imagine anything could plausibly stop him from taking the two steps forward it would take to get past the front door.
"I'm going to go up to my apartment," Will said slowly. "You know my apartment code, Mike, I know you do. You know how to get up there. It's gonna be alright, okay?"
"No, wait, Will," Mike started, but Will went inside and closed the door before he could finish.
Why did he do that? He felt so stupid, so carelessly mean. But it just didn't make any sense that Mike would be stuck outside, especially when he'd been rambling on and on about how the sun was torturing him! Will felt like he was holding back tears as he climbed the stairs to his apartment, which was ridiculous, because all he'd done was walk into his apartment building without giving Mike express permission to do the same.
Mike had come into his apartment unannounced countless times. Will's apartment code was Mike's birthday, and they both knew that. Last week, Will had woken up to Mike in his apartment, holding a bag of bagels and wearing a cheesy grin. All Mike had to do was step through the door and punch 0407 into the keypad.
And if he couldn't...? There was no drug that would render Mike specifically incapable of carrying out that simple task.
Will let himself into his apartment and ran towards a window, peering down at the street below. To his dismay, Mike was still outside, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, still holding his library books. Will tore himself away from the window and went to grab himself a glass of water as a distraction, praying that he would hear the sound of his front door opening any minute now.
Nearly ten minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Mike.
Will took a deep breath and went back over to the window.
At first, he didn't see Mike, and for a second, he had a spark of hope that Mike had gotten inside and was coming up the stairs to get to Will right now.
And then, Will's gaze traveled to the building door, and he saw Mike sitting on the ground next to the door, knees pulled to his chest, a spitting image of how Will had found him last night outside the convenience store.
Will's heart couldn't take this any longer, so he left his apartment and ran down the stairs to the building door. He threw the door open, and Mike's head whipped around in surprise. Their eyes met, and Will could tell that Mike had been crying.
"I'm sorry," Will blurted. "You can come in, Mike, I'm sorry." Mike blinked in surprise, and shakily, he stood up.
Without saying anything, Mike stepped through the front door and pulled Will into another hug, library books squished uncomfortably between their stomachs.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," he whispered shakily. "Vampires aren't real, and I just-- I'm so confused, Will."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's gonna be okay," Will soothed. "Let's go upstairs to my apartment, okay? I'm so sorry, Mike, I shouldn't have left you. I promise, it's gonna be okay." Mike nodded.
They ascended the stairs together, entered the apartment, and then they were back on Will's couch, a repeat of the scene from the night before.
"What does it feel like when you try to go in somewhere?" Will inquired. "Like, what goes on inside your head?" Mike shrugged, averting his gaze and putting his head down sheepishly.
"I dunno. It's like, I know I'm trying to get inside, and I'm telling myself to take a step forwards, but my body just won't budge. It's like I'm not in control of myself, and it's so scary because it doesn't make any sense! And then, you... y'know, and all of a sudden, I can move again, and it's like this barrier in my brain's been lifted."
"Huh," Will replied.
"Yeah. I don't know, it's weird."
They didn't talk about it for the rest of the day, after that. Mike mostly just read, curled up on Will's couch, so Will took the time to put some finishing touches on a painting he'd been working on. Once evening rolled around, Mike offered to make dinner, so Will put the television on in the background and kept Mike company in the kitchen.
Mike, with his infinite culinary skills, decided to make pasta with tomato sauce, which Will would never complain about.
"I'm so hungry, oh my god, I can't wait to eat," Mike said as he poured the pasta into the strainer he'd placed in the sink.
"Are you sure you don't want any help serving the pasta?"
"No, no, stay in your chair, I've got it," Mike insisted. Will smiled, tilting his head down so Mike couldn't see him blushing.
Moments later, there were twin bowls of pasta and cans of coke sitting on the table, courtesy of Mike, and Will thanked him profusely before picking up his fork to dig in.
He couldn't help but notice Mike wasn't eating, though.
"Are you okay?" Will asked.
"No, I'm fine, I just..." He stabbed a piece of pasta with his fork and brought it up to his mouth. Will watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, and then Mike continued. "I dunno, does it taste weird to you? Like, is the sauce expired?"
"I think it tastes fine, but I can check the bottle if you want?" Will offered.
"It's okay," Mike replied, but Will was already up and making his way to the recycling to check the expiration date.
"Yeah, it doesn't expire for months," Will said. "We've had this brand before, and you liked it, remember?"
"I know. I just..."
Will and Mike shared a look, their minds jumping to the same outlandish conclusion.
Vampires didn't need human food, after all.
"It's fine, it's fine," Mike stressed, taking another bite of his pasta. "I can still eat it, it's good. My tastebuds must be changing, or something."
"Yeah," Will agreed tentatively.
They finished dinner, conversation blatantly avoiding the topic of vampirism, and then Will brought their cleaned plates to the sink.
"I'm still hungry," Mike mentioned casually, like the comment didn't raise any suspicions as to why his appetite might not have been satisfied by the meal. "Do you wanna have ice cream?"
"I don't have any in the freezer, but we can go to the place down the street, if you want," Will offered. There was a pause, and then he added, "I promise I'll invite you into the ice cream parlor." He tried to keep his tone light, joking.
Thankfully, Mike just smiled.
"Okay!"
They left the apartment, walked the few blocks to the ice cream parlor, where Will held the door open with an extravagant "come on in!" to Mike. They shared an ice cream sundae, which Mike let Will pick the flavors for, and then headed back to the apartment as the sun was setting.
"Thank god it's finally dark out," Mike said. "I love Manhattan at night."
"Yeah, me too," Will replied. "I love seeing all the lights in people's windows on the skyline. It's so beautiful." They got to the front door of the apartment building, which Will quickly unlocked and opened for Mike. "You can come in."
"Thank you!" Mike responded happily. A beat went by as they started up the stairs, and then Mike continued to speak, his voice hushed by contrast. "I'm still hungry," he whispered, like it was a dark secret. Maybe it was, Will thought.
"You can have anything in my pantry or my fridge," he offered.
"Thanks," Mike replied. "But, um... what if that doesn't work? If..."
If he actually was a vampire. If somehow, vampires were actually real, and Mike had just stumbled into the misfortune of becoming one.
"It'll be okay no matter what," Will settled on saying, because he would help Mike through anything.
They settled back into the apartment for the night. Mike didn't make any mention of going back home to his own apartment, so Will didn't bring it up. He loved having Mike around, loved talking to him and sharing meals and even just working while Mike was elsewhere in the room. They changed into their pajamas and cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie, Mike resting his head on Will's shoulder despite their height difference. If it weren't for the circumstances as to how Mike had ended up staying with Will in the first place, Will thought, this could be heaven to him.
If only he wasn't so worried for Mike.
Mike started to doze off halfway through the movie. When Will heard him snoring softly, he gently nudged him awake.
"Hey, Mike," he whispered. "Do you wanna go to bed?"
"Mmm... okay," Mike mumbled, pushing himself off of Will and onto his feet. Will turned off the TV and they headed into the bedroom, into Mike's nest of pillows and blankets. Will intentionally ignored the memories of what the mythology book had said about the sleeping arrangements of vampires, instead focusing on how happy he felt to get to have this with Mike, this domestic softness.
He set his alarm so he could get up for work tomorrow, and then he climbed into bed. Mike curled up beside him, and Will drifted off to sleep with a soft smile on his face and a warm feeling in his chest. He didn't dream.
When the alarm clock woke him up in the morning, Will felt like he'd slept better than he had in months. He turned off the alarm, and somehow, Mike had slept through it, so he gently maneuvered himself out from Mike's hold to get out of bed and get ready for work.
He didn't mind being a barista. He really liked most of his coworkers, and it was a good source of income to fund his art and make rent! He'd spent the past few months begging Mike to apply to his store, because it would be so fun to man the floor with him, joking together as Will steamed milk for a latte.
He got dressed in his uniform and got everything ready for work before going back into the bedroom to check on Mike, who was still fast asleep.
"Mike?" he called out, causing Mike to stir. "I'm leaving for work in a couple minutes. You can keep sleeping, I just wanted to let you know. My shift today is only a few hours, and then I'll be right back home, okay?"
"Okay," Mike muttered drowsily, still half-asleep. Will shut the bedroom door gently as not to disturb Mike any further and walked away.
Will's shift was relatively uneventful. He'd briefly considered calling out so he wouldn't have to leave Mike alone, but he figured 'my friend is having a crisis where he can't get inside buildings on his own' wasn't a good enough reason to leave his manager short staffed. Thankfully, he didn't have any annoying customers or stupidly modified drinks to make, and the shift flew by. Before he knew it, he was clocking out and walking home.
Once he got back to his apartment, pushing the front door open, he instantly had a feeling that something was wrong. The apartment was dark, and Mike was nowhere in sight.
"Mike...?" he called out, stepping into the apartment and flicking on the lights. No response.
He made his way towards the bedroom door, which was still shut. He thought for a second that, maybe, Mike was still asleep, but once he got to the door, he could a faint sniffling through the door.
Will softly knocked on the door.
"Will?" Mike croaked, his voice raw and raspy.
"Can I come in?"
The question hung in the air for a moment, and all Will could hear was a rustling of blankets.
"Yeah," Mike answered finally, and Will pushed the door open to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tightly around himself, still wearing Will's pajamas.
"What's wrong?" Will asked, his stomach dropping at the sight of how distraught Mike looked. He sat down next to Mike on the bed, repressing the urge to reach a hand up and gently wipe a tear from his cheek as it trickled down to his chin. Mike shook his head, pressing his lips together and squeezing his eyes shut. "No matter what it is, Mike, I promise, it's gonna be okay. I'll help you, I promise."
"You can't," Mike mumbled, moving his mouth almost imperceptibly.
"I can," Will insisted, his tone laced with devotion.
"No," Mike whimpered, his eyes wide, teary, and desperate.
"Please let me help you," Will begged, and just as Will couldn't stand seeing Mike this desperate, he knew Mike hated to see him in distress just as much.
Mike took a deep, shaky breath in and out.
He pursed his lips once again, tensing.
And then he opened his mouth to reveal...
"Oh my god," Will breathed, because Mike's canine teeth looked abnormally long, longer than they had been before. These were--
"Fangs," Mike spat, choking on the word like it was something bitter, vile, a death sentence. He sounded angry, but more than that, he seemed terrified.
"Oh, Mike," Will said softly.
"It's real," Mike sobbed. "It's actually real, Will, and I don't-- I can't live like this, this can't be real, I just--" he cut himself off with a loud, strangled sob, putting his head in his hands.
For once, Will didn't know what to say to comfort Mike. When his words mattered more than anything, when Mike desperately needed something, the right words were lost to Will.
"And I'm so-- so scared, Will, I don't know what to do," Mike continued between gasps. "I can't-- I don't--" He screamed into his hands, the sound raw and harsh, causing Will to flinch. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't--"
Will pulled Mike tightly to his chest, hugging him securely. He let Mike sob, scream, shuddering in his grasp, never letting go even for a second.
"It's gonna be okay," he soothed, and he truly believed it, even if he didn't know how. He would find a way to help Mike. Even if this was real, which he supposed it was, which was overwhelmingly terrifying.
And yet, Will thought as he held Mike, hands wrapped around him, ensconcing, he wasn't afraid of Mike at all. Even if Mike actually was a vampire, because he was Mike. Mike was his best friend, the boy he'd grown up with, and even if he could be brash, Mike loved fiercely, had always loved Will, had always fought to protect him and keep him safe.
He would never feel unsafe around Mike. Only loved, only adored, only cherished.
So even though this was real... Will knew it was going to be okay.
After a few minutes, Mike finally tired himself out, running out of tears to cry. He didn't make any indication of wanting to pull away from Will, though, so Will continued to hold him tight.
"I'm sorry," Mike apologized weakly. "I-- I understand if you're scared, or if you need me to leave, or if you think you should call the police or something, because I don't--"
"Hey, hey, Mike," Will interrupted, gently using his hand to guide Mike's head up to meet Will's gaze. "I would never do that to you."
"But--"
"No, never. I'm not scared of you."
"But what if I try to kill you?" Mike forced out. Will hummed.
"Do you want to kill me?"
"No," Mike replied immediately, horrified, "but--"
"Then I'm not scared, Mike."
"But..." Mike brought a hand up to his mouth, running a finger along his fang. "What if I need to..." He whined softly, unable to bring himself to say it.
Will built up the courage to finish the sentence for him.
"Drink blood?"
Mike nodded tentatively, looking like he was on the verge of tears again.
Will took a deep breath, preparing himself to make an offer that he'd never imagined in a million years would've been real, and yet, he felt fully ready to make.
"Well, you can have a little of mine, if you want."
The offer hung heavily in the air, his words almost suffocating. Mike balked at him, his mouth agape and eyes wide.
"What??"
"Only a little, obviously. I'm not saying you can have all of it," Will rushed to explain.
"No, but-- what if it hurts?!"
"Can you try and be gentle?" Will asked genuinely.
"I-- I don't know! I just--" he cut himself off, distressed and frustrated. "Why are you being so casual about this?" Will paused, breath stuttering, considering the question.
"Well... I'm definitely not," he started. "This is... terrifying, and I'm worried for you. But..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I want to be there for you. And help you. And... I trust you." The sheer gratitude on Mike's face hit Will like a tidal wave, the adoration so strong it felt physically painful. "This is crazy," Will continued. "And it still doesn't feel real, I guess. But you've been in pain for days, and if there's something I can do to lessen it..."
"Thank you," Mike uttered, eyes wide. Slowly, tentatively, Will held up his wrist to Mike.
"Here," he said. Mike flinched away like he'd been burned.
"Right now?!"
"Well-- you don't have to! I thought you were hungry!"
"Well, okay," Mike relented, "but-- I don't know what to do! I thought vampires were supposed to have a coven to teach them this kind of stuff! That's what the book said!"
"I mean, we can go back to the library," Will suggested, but Mike shook his head.
"I am not going outside right now if I don't have to," he replied firmly. Will couldn't help but snicker.
"Okay, well... you don't have to do anything you don't want to."
Mike's gaze flicked to Will's wrist and back up to his eyes again.
"This is gonna sound so weird," Mike started, "like actually so, so weird, but... I can, like, smell your blood." Will laughed again, louder this time. He noticed the distinct lack of redness on Mike's face despite his embarrassed expression and wondered if that, too, was a symptom of being a vampire.
"That's really funny," Will giggled, and Mike scoffed lightly. "So... do you, uh..."
Mike hesitated, mulling it over.
"Okay," he relented weakly. "But if it hurts, or you feel lightheaded, or anything is wrong, just, like, shove me off of you or something."
"Okay," Will agreed, and he held up his wrist again.
Nervously, his hands shaking, Mike reached out to grab Will's wrist. He held it gently, like Will was fragile, something to be coveted, like even the slightest amount of pressure would turn this moment into something ugly.
Slowly, he lifted Will's wrist to his mouth, glancing rapidly between his wrist and Will's eyes, searching Will's expression for any sign that he wanted to back out of this.
Will would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little nervous. It wasn't like this was a normal situation to be in. But... more than anything, he wanted Mike to be okay.
He exhaled, calming himself. Mike, too, took a deep breath, and then he opened his mouth and gently brought it to Will's wrist.
Will felt a slight prick, like a cat scratch, and then, nothing. He stared at Mike with wide eyes, at the strange sight that was Mike's lips pressed on his wrist, but didn't feel any pain. If anything, there was a slight tugging sensation, alongside the feeling of lips on his skin, but nothing that brought him any real discomfort. Mike's eyes were shut, and instead of seeming scary, like a bloodthirsty monster, he looked innocent, gentle, even.
Only a short moment passed before Mike pulled away, pressing a gentle kiss to Will's wrist to rid it of the beads of blood that trickled out of the pinprick puncture wounds, and then he looked up to meet Will's eyes.
Mike's irises looked red, Will realized, a gorgeous shade of crimson.
And he looked guilty, seemingly terrified that he had hurt Will.
"Was that okay?" Mike rushed to ask, voice shaking.
"Yeah," Will replied. "It didn't hurt."
"Really?"
"I promise."
"Oh. Well... thank you," Mike said gratefully. "That was... thank you."
"Was that enough?" Will asked.
"Um... I don't know," Mike replied honestly. He released Will's wrist, which Will examined. The bite mark was faint, just two small dots, and there wasn't a trace of blood. "You're sure it doesn't hurt?"
"Mike," Will groaned. "It doesn't hurt, I promise."
"Okay, I'm sorry!"
Will reached out to Mike, bringing him into another hug. He pulled Mike's head to his chest and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Mike hummed contentedly.
"I've got you, okay? I promise, it's gonna be okay. We're gonna figure this out. We'll figure out a system, okay? And we'll learn all about vampires, since they really are real, and maybe we can find another one who can help you? Or, if vampires are real, I bet there's places we can buy blood for you, right? It's gonna be okay."
"Thank you, Will," Mike whispered.
Will shut his eyes, musing over the past few days, which had been both a blur and an eternity, a stretch of emotional highs and lows. Now, despite all of the confusion and how his reality had tilted on its axis, Will felt light, a sense of peace washing over him. This new development, Mike's vampirism, wasn't something he couldn't deal with, not with the person he loved more than anyone else in the world. He knew, as he carded his fingers through Mike's hair, that everything was going to be okay. There wasn't a doubt in his mind.