Chapter Text
Mike dipped his fingers into the bath, checking the temperature.
Will sat on the toilet, a towel around his waist and basking in the slowly growing humidity of Mike's small bathroom. There were tears still clinging to his lashes at the domesticity of it all, Mike kneeling on the floor next to the tub, swaying his fingers in the rising water with a soft tune on his lips as he mixed the bubbles around. The dim lights of the bathroom soothed the ache behind Will's eyes. He doesn't know whether the headache arouse from the blood loss or the excessive crying on Mike's living room floor. But who was he to question it when he still felt absolutely thrilled that Mike Wheeler, his best friend since fucking forever loved him back? And not the "best bros" type of love that Argyle loved to talk about, but the "I wanna spend what's left of forever with you." type of love.
Now that Will knew the truth of Mike's feelings, he could actually see it in all of Mike's actions. He sees it in his eyes when Mike looked at him, he could feel it on his skin when Mike cleared a tear away from his cheek, he could hear it in Mike's heartbeat and the breaths he takes between his words. He could feel it when Will saw that Mike still had Will's toothbrush in his bathroom cabinet for whenever Will would sleep over.
He had to say that maybe the tears in his eyes were actually brought about by that discovery. Because, holy fuck, Mike still had Will's toothbrush after all this time. Will couldn't help but laugh a little at the thought of it, which got Mike's attention.
Mike turned to him, a soft smile on his face like just the sound of Will's laughter was enough to put it there. "What's so funny?"
Will shook his head, the smile on his own face making his cheeks burn. "Nothing, it's just... you kept my toothbrush."
Mike looked toward the cabinet, which was still open revealing all its contents before his eyes zeroed in on the yellow toothbrush sitting right next to the blue one. "Yeah, I did. I actually replaced it every four months too. Because, you know, hygiene."
Will's chest ached at the thought. He hadn't spoken to Mike in exactly a year and a half. 18 months. Mike switched out his toothbrush about 4 times in the time they'd been apart. Holding on to hope that one night, Will would appear at his doorstep for a sleepover and his toothbrush would be right there waiting for him at the end of the night. Each time Mike had hoped for that, he was let down. Every time.
Will had managed to let Mike down every day he had been away.
Will's eyes dropped down to his legs, and the smile he wore slowly faded as the guilt that gripped his chest tightened its hold.
Admittedly, Will has a habit of underestimating how much he means to people. Call it trauma from an unloving, abusive father. Because if he doesn't mean shit to his own dad how much could he expect to mean to other people? It was one of the more... invisible effects of his early life, but it still finds a way to fuck up his life even now.
"Do you know how many times I cried in bed, begging a god I don't even believe in that you would talk to me again?"
The regret Will felt when he heard that was indescribable.
"Hey," Mike said, as if he could read Will's thoughts, "it's okay. You're here now."
Mike turned off the water before getting up and reaching for Will's hands. "I would rather you be gone for a little and come back than have you be gone forever. No matter how painful that little while was."
"I'm sorry." Will whispers, peering up at Mike. He prayed that Mike could see all that Will felt in his eyes, that he could feel just how much he regretted everything just by looking at him. Because even though it was worth it, keeping Mike safe, keeping the whole of New York City safe, Will still felt the loss of the last year and a half deep in his chest.
Mike ignored his apology, gripping Will's hands and pulling him up. He offered a long kiss on the cheek as a response instead before whispering a soft "The bath is ready, my love."
Will took one hand from Mike's grip and towards the towel on his hips. Mike kept his gaze on Will's eyes as he did so. Mike helped him into the tub, his eyes bouncing across Will's face as Will looked down to place his feet inside the tub.
Will let Mike grip his forearms as he lowered himself into the water. It was on the hotter side, which Will liked. He could feel all the grime and blood slip away as he got lower. He was glad the bandages were waterproof as well, even if the warm touch of the water against his wound felt amazing.
The water stopped just before the crease of his armpits and his eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of being enveloped in the warmth of the water around him.
"Does it feel good?" Mike whispered. He kneeled next to the tub, his head resting on one of his arms while the other brushed Will's hair back.
"Yeah," Will hummed, "Thank you."
"Don't thank me for this, please," Mike said softly, stroking his fingertips against the skin of Will's forehead. "I want to take care of you, Will."
"I just feel like-" Will stopped, at the back of his mind he could hear the scared, child-like piece of himself screaming at him.
Don't say too much. Don't scare off him with all your issues.
Will didn't feel... ready to unpack the trauma he experienced being Spiderman for the last three years with Mike. He hasn't even really unpacked it with himself. The things he's seen, the people he's watched die, the feeling of worthlessness he experiences when he feels like he isn't helping people enough; when he isn't being enough.
Having Mike take care of him like this when Will felt like he hasn't even done all that much to deserve it is enough to bring the tears back into his eyes.
"Feel like what Will?" Mike asked, his head lifting from his arm and his body leaning forward as if he wanted to catch the words that came from Will's mouth as they fell. "Tell me."
Will figured that he owed Mike a lot of things right now. He owed Mike an explanation and a detailed story of how all of this had happened to him, though Mike said that they would save that for tomorrow. Will felt like, for right now, Mike at least deserves some honesty. Even if the honesty has to be dragged out from the depths of Will's mind.
"I just feel like I don't deserve it." He finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I think you do," Mike responded after the palpable silence. "I think you deserve all this and more."
Will didn't feel the tears that streamed down his face until Mike brushed them away. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears behind his eyes to dry up. He hated crying, it made his eyes hurt and his chest stagger when he breathed, and it made him feel weak.
And Will wasn't weak. He was Spiderman.
Spiderman doesn't cry just because someone is nice to him.
Will, on the other hand, gets reduced to a blubbering mess. Tears replaced tears and Mike wiped them away like he didn't mind. Like Will wasn't a problem, a burden.
Mike wiped Will's tears as if he loved him. Which he did.
Will was still trying to wipe his head around that.
"I mean, all I've known you to do since we were kids was take care of people," Mike said, a small smile on his face at the memory. "And you still do that, on an even bigger scale than before. Don't you think there should be someone out there taking care of you?"
Will didn't respond, instead, he looked at Mike's face. His face hadn't changed since the last time Will saw him but he still wanted to take the time to trace over the intricacies of Mike's delicate features. He wanted to take in the small freckles that sprinkled across the sharpness of his cheeks and the bridge of his aquiline nose, the plumpness of his pink lips and the softness in his brown eyes. Will wanted to take everything in like it was his first time seeing him.
"I don't like that you're Spiderman, it scares me," Mike admits, his voice is small like he was afraid to say it out loud. "I thought it was because of how dangerous it is, and it is! Partly."
Mike huffed, resting his head on his arm as he leaned against the tub. He trailed his fingertip along Will's collarbone, taking in the smaller, healed scar on Will's chest. "I just don't like the fact that you were all alone. That at the end of a big fight, you'd have to come home and stitch yourself up all by yourself."
"You'd save the entire city and come home to no one," Mike said, tears gathered in his eyes as he continued. "It hurts to imagine how lonely you must've been. Especially because you didn't have to be."
"Mike-"
"I could've helped you," Mike continued, harshly wiping a tear that escaped his eyes before Will could get the chance. "I could've taken care of you if you let me. You didn't even give me the chance."
"Mike-"
"And yeah, you're right. Maybe I wouldn't have understood. I still fucking don't-not entirely- but I would've taken care of you anyway. You could have come to me to stitch you up-"
Will leaned up to silence him with a hard kiss. It was clumsy and Will's muscles were like jelly as he tried to hold himself up to meet Mike's lips. But he wanted Mike to feel just how much this all meant to him; because words didn't feel like they would be enough. He could sense the tension in Mike's shoulders soften and his heartbeat slow. He could feel the way Mike's fingers slowly slid up his shoulders and onto his cheeks. Mike broke their kiss to take a breath before diving back in, this time much softer.
Mike held him like he was fragile. Mike kissed him like he was a strong gust of wind away from completely shattering. And shit, maybe Will was.
Because he hasn't felt this soft in such a long time.
The only touches he had experienced within the last year and a half were punches, slashes, and the occasional bump from strangers on crowded streets. Nothing soft and gentle like this.
Despite the humidity in the air around him, Mike's cool fingers soothed the fire under Will's skin.
Will's mind felt fogged from all the good he was feeling. He's never felt this at peace in his life.
And Mike was right. It was lonely, agonizingly so.
He came home from fights stumbling through a window.
He would bite into a T-shirt as he poured hydrogen peroxide on his own wounds. He would pass out while he was in the middle of doing his own stitches and resume whenever he woke up. The last year and a half were lonely and painful and cold; it was the same day on repeat, over and over in excruciating succession.
And yet, the past 10 minutes he's spent in this tub with Mike's hands brushing through his hair and trailing the scars on his skin were more than enough to make him forget about it all.
Mike released Will from his lips and grip. He leaned his forehead against Will's after peppering a kiss on his nose.
Will grinned, his blinking slow and his breathing relaxed. "I was so used to doing it myself that I couldn't imagine putting that burden on anyone else."
Mike shook his head, "It wouldn't have been a burden to me. Nothing about you could ever be a burden to me, Will."
"I know that now," Will responded, bumping Mike's nose with his softly. "And you are taking such good care of me now. That's what matters."
Mike nodded, pushing Will's hair away from his face and placing a kiss on his forehead. "Can I wash your hair?"
"You can do whatever you like."
Mike gifted him with another kiss before muttering an "okay". He stood up and took a step towards the bathroom cabinets, taking out shampoo and conditioner and placing it on the toilet seat.
"I need to get a pail for the water, I'll be right back," Mike said, waiting for a nod from Will before stepping out of the bathroom towards the kitchen.
Mike took dreaded steps down the hallway and the entrance to the living room grew closer and closer. He had felt so elated when he got Will in the bath and watched the tension slip away from his face and shoulders that he had almost forgotten what led Will to his bath in the first place. The absolute massacre on the living room floor wasn't any easier to look at the second time.
The blood next to the bookshelf had mostly dried, leaving a dark red pool on the floor. There was a trail that lead from it to the much smaller pool next to the couch where he stitched Will up. He had been completely blinded by stress to even notice the trail of blood that led all the way to the kitchen window and the handprints of it on his countertops.
Mike would most definitely talk to a therapist about this if only he had one.
The sight of all the blood had placed an unsettled feeling in his chest. He had wondered how much Will had already bled before he got here. What kind of strange, evil villain had even landed such a blow on him in the first place? He also wondered how many wounds like this Will had to take care of on his own.
How many times did Will have to get on his knees to scrub his own blood off his kitchen floor? How many tears did he have to wipe off his own face as he pierced his own skin with a needle and sutures?
Mike felt tears sting his eyes as he carefully crossed the living room, purposely looking away from the crime scene in the living room.
He let a shuddering breath as he crossed into the kitchen, closing the window and leaning against it.
"Fuck." He whispered, cupping a hand over his mouth, the other rubbing his chest in an attempt to soothe himself.
Mike doesn't think he'll ever be able to let tonight go from his mind. No matter how good it felt to kiss him, to hold him, to rub his shoulders as Will sank into the bath, Mike doesn't think that the sight of Will groaning in pain as Mike pushed a needle through his skin would ever stop playing in the back of his mind.
He braced himself against the window as he let out a soft sob, stifled behind his hand.
Mike felt like he was on the edge of breaking down all over again. He wiped his face harshly, taking a look in the reflection of the window to make sure all the evidence of what he felt inside was gone.
Mike didn't mean to bottle his emotions, although he's gotten so good at it that he doesn't even realize he's done it until the bottle cracks and shatters under the pressure of holding too much in such a small space. Mike's been getting better at his emotional processing but this... this was too much for Mike to handle properly.
So he cleared his throat, pushing all the unshed tears down into a dark abyss that would be fished out when the timing was more convenient.
He opened one of the kitchen cabinets to grab a pail to use to wash Will's hair.
Taking care of Will did wonders at soothing the ache in Mike's chest and he hoped that taking care to make sure that each and every strand on Will's head was washed away from sweat and blood and grime would strip out all the bad that Mike felt.
Because deep down, he knew there wasn't much that Mike could say to convince Will that he should stop being Spiderman.
If Will had told him he was Spiderman a year and a half ago when Mike was a little less mature and painfully stuck in a glass closet, he would've stopped at nothing to keep Will from dawning the Spiderman suit again. He imagined handcuffing Will to a radiator or something stupid like that, lecturing him on how dangerous and how much of a bad idea this all was. But Mike knew who Spiderman was before he knew it was Will. He saw how much Spiderman helped people, how he saved them from falling rubble and evil scientists. How he guided lost children back to their parents after the chaos of some foreign attack had ripped them apart.
He saw how Spiderman took care of people.
He saw how much they needed him.
Taking that away from people, no matter how much Mike wanted to, made him feel selfish. It made him feel like maybe he wasn't as good of a person as he thought.
But he wanted Will safe more than anything and being fucking Spiderman was the complete opposite.
He gripped the pail in his hands as he walked across the living room again. His eyes focused straight on the hallway in front of him to not make the mistake of glancing at the blood on the floor again. He would deal with it tomorrow before Will wakes up. He'll wake up early to go to the store and let himself cry on the way there whether he looked crazy to the strangers he passed by or not.
Mike wanted to be strong for Will, he needed to be. At least until Will was fully healed and back on his feet again.
That all came crumbling down the moment he walked back into the bathroom though.
Because Will was looking at him like he already knew.
"You're not okay," Will stated, his voice low so as to not destroy the delicate energy of the room. "You don't have to pretend to be to make me feel better."
Mike walked over to the bathtub, his legs almost giving out as he kneeled beside Will. "How did you know?"
Will sat up, sitting closer to the edge to get closer to Mike. He brought a wet hand to Mike's cheek, trailing it all the way down to his shoulder and gripping it before trailing it even lower to the skin above Mike's heart. Mike's breath caught in his throat at the look in Will's eyes. They were pinned on his, looking into the depths of Mike's soul as if he was picking through the walls Mike had built piece by piece until he found what he was looking for. Mike suddenly felt like he was the one naked and not Will.
"If I listen hard enough." Will started, kissing Mike softly against his jaw and then on his neck, right about his pulse point. "I could hear your heartbeat."
The pointing finger Will had on Mike's heart expanded to a palm on his clothed chest. "And I can hear each breath as you take them."
Mike couldn't help but feel a rush of heat rise to his cheeks as Will kissed his pulse point again. "Do you, by chance, read minds as well?"
Will pulled away with a chuckle before answering, "No, I don't. That would make things a lot easier though, wouldn't it?"
Mike smiled and all the bad that he felt in his chest eased at the sound of Will's laugh. "Yeah, those villains wouldn't stand a chance."
"They don't even now."
Mike really let out a laugh at that. "Oh, are we feeling a little cocky today, Byers?"
Will seemed to immediately regret what he said as he brought both of his wet hands to his face in embarrassment. "Please, shut up."
Mike dipped the pail into the water as he spoke, "But you sounded so confident just then. Where'd all that bravado go, huh?"
He held the pail over Will's head before he tipped it over, earning a yelp in surprise.
"Looks like you're no match for water," Mike said laughing as Will looked up at him with a face that resembled that of an angry, wet, cat. Will took some water in his hand and smirked before throwing it in Mike's face.
"That's not fair, Will." Mike giggled, "You're already wet, splashing you wouldn't make a difference."
"I don't play fair-"
"Weird, coming from a superhero-"
"And you look better wet, anyways." Will finished before granting him the most searing of kisses.
Mike gasped in surprise, dropping the pail with a splash and grabbing the wet strands of Will's hair between his fingers.
Will lifted his hands from the water, his fingers dripping as they find themselves on Mike's waist. Will's finger's were hot from the bath water and he gripped Mike tight and my god did his fingers feel good on Mike's skin.
Mike gripped Will's hair between his fingers and tugged, inhaling the sounds that Will made into his mouth.
Will bit at Mike's lip and Mike let out a small hiss before he swiped his tongue at Mike's bottom lip.
Mike parted his lips, letting Will enter and explore his mouth any way he wanted. How could he not? With the way Will held his waist, sliding his hands up his back and massaging at his shoulder blades, Mike's body felt like putty and his mind was a hazy shell of its former self.
Will's hand moved around to the front of his body, gliding up his stomach and catching a nipple as he slid his hand up his chest to grasp at his neck. A moan flew out of Mike's mouth without his permission as he felt Will's slim fingers card through his hair and pull harder than Mike ever expected. The feeling of it shot a hot pang in his stomach and any thoughts pertaining to anything other than Will, Will, and Will, were completely out of the question. He could feel his body move closer to Will, his belly button hitting the edge of the tub as he practically leaned over to keep Will's lips against his.
Will chuckles. Usually, the sound would fill Mike's chest with innocent delight, he would respond with a small smile and ask what Will was laughing at. But now, the chuckle Will let out was low, almost mocking and the feeling it gave Mike was far from innocent.
"You trying to get in the bath, Mike?" Will whispered against his lips. Mike could feel the smirk against his lips as Will's hand slid out of his hair and rested at the front of his neck. The space between Will's thumb and index finger rested just above Mike's Adam's apple and he could feel the insides of his abdomen shake and tighten in sick pleasure.
Will's thumb stroked against his pulse point and despite the strong desire he had to kiss Will until Mike dissolved into nothing but a scorching mess, he had the sense (or really the self-preservation) to pull away.
"I shouldn't," Mike whispered, pulling away but not far enough to make much of a difference. He could feel Will's lips against his as he talked and he couldn't look Will in the eyes without going cross-eyed.
"Oh? Why not?" Will said, teasingly. "You're halfway there already."
He rolled his eyes, trying to stifle the sounds making their way up his throat as Will kissed at all the places on Mike's neck not occupied by Will's hand.
"Because I refuse to be held responsible for what might happen when I get in this tub," Mike said against his better judgment.
"Yeah?" Will replied, lifting his lips from Mike's jaw to slide against his cheek and up to his ear. In a husky whisper, he asked, "What would happen, Mike? Tell me."
Mike closed his eyes tight, letting out a sigh as Will nibbled at his ear.
Despite the hot pit of desire pooling in Mike's stomach and all the thoughts of what he wanted Will to do to him swaying in his mind like a pendulum, he knew this couldn't go any further.
"Will, wait," Mike said, guiding Will's face away from his ear and bringing him up to face each other. "I don't think we should do this. Not yet."
Will sighed and nodded, though Mike could easily make out the solemn look on his face.
"What's wrong?" Mike asked.
"Nothing, I just-" Will sighed, bringing his face back up to Mike's cheek and granting it a quick, far more innocent kiss. In a whisper, he said, "I just want to make all the bad you feel inside go away."
Even softer, he said, " 'Cause I know I'm the one that put it there."
Mike could feel his heart crack and shatter at the words.
"Oh, Will," Mike said softly, wrapping his arms around Will's damp shoulders and placing a kiss on his wet hair. "Don't do this just because you feel guilty, I want you to do it because you want to."
"I did, I do," Will said quickly, easing the anxiety Mike felt in his chest.
The last thing Mike wanted from Will was him feeling like he had to provide Mike with some sort of sexual favour because he felt like he had to.
"I just wanted to help make you feel good," Will admitted shyly, digging his head into Mike's shoulder as if he was trying to hide there.
God, if Will wanted to hide in Mike's arms for good, he would let him.
He would hide Will from all the responsibility, the fighting, the pain, the loneliness, the entire fucking world if that was what Will wanted.
Mike would do anything Will wanted, happily.
"You could make me feel good in so many different ways, Will," Mike said, a soft smile spreading on his lips, "It doesn't have to be just sexual."
Will nodded, muttering a "sorry" into Mike's skin.
Mike overlooks the apology, "Do you know what would make me feel really, really good, Will?"
Will released himself from the inside of Mike's shoulder, glancing up at him with a look in his eye that made Mike's stomach do a little swoop.
"Tell me," Will whispered, "I'll do it."
Mike wipes a droplet of water from Will's forehead and the soft smile he wore widened into a grin. "I know you would."
"What would make me feel really, really good," Mike continued, "Is you-"
"Mhm?"
"-letting me finish washing your hair, remember that?"
Will snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I remember."
"Doing that will make me feel fucking incredible, will you let me?" Mike asked, picking up the shampoo and the pail floating in the tub and giving them an enthusiastic shake in his hands.
Will smiled and nodded his head, "Yeah."
Mike gave him a gross, wet, smooch on the top of his forehead, earning a groan from Will as Mike popped open the shampoo bottle.
"While I do that, do you mind telling me a little story?" Mike asked, wetting his hands and rubbing the shampoo between them before bringing them to Will's hair.
Will sighed at the sensation, "What kind of story?"
Truthfully, Mike wanted to know every story. He wanted to know every interesting, sad or fucked up thing that happened in the 18 months they spent apart. Actually, he wanted to know everything from the past three years Will spent as Spiderman. Now that Mike thought about it, he had missed out on so much of Will's life these past couple of years, both because of simply not knowing and not even being there.
He wanted to know every single detail he had missed, desperately so, but that could all wait until tomorrow.
Mike decided to take it easy on the boy and ask him something a little more simple.
"How'd you get spider-boy powers?"
Will laughed, "Spider-boy powers?"
Mike smiled, rubbing the shampoo against the dark-brown strands, "I mean, I assume they didn't just come out of nowhere."
"Well, remember the school field trip to the Oscorp Institute?" Will asked, his eyes closed as he basked in the glorified head massage he was receiving.
"No, that was for nerds," Mike replied blankly, hiding the smirk on his face.
"Fuck off! You were literally there," Will chortled, shaking his head. Mike gripped his head to steady him before resuming the shampoo massage.
"Huh, that's funny, I don't remember being there," Mike said, no longer hiding the smile on his face.
Mike felt elated at the smile that graced Will's lips and the tension that seeped away from his shoulders. The space between his eyebrows was no longer furrowed in stress and instead laid calmy on his face, his eyes were closed as if he felt safe in Mike's tiny bathroom in his tiny apartment.
Mike hoped to whoever was up there that he did.
As a matter of fact, maybe god was out there.
Maybe he heard Mike sobbing and praying into his pillow and finally decided- after a year and a half -to give Mike what he wanted.
And, sure, it didn't happen in the way he expected. He would've preferred Will to knock on his door with a shy smile and an apology rather than stumble into his living room through a window in a Spiderman suit but you know what they say;
"God" works in mysterious ways.
As Mike washed away all the soap from Will's hair, listening intently to the story Will told him, the only thing on Mike's mind was how happy he was.
How could someone make him feel so good just by sitting there and letting Mike wash their hair?
It should feel absurd but it wasn't. Just by Will sitting there, his eyes closed and his mind at peace, Mike felt all the bad in his chest melt away.
It wouldn't be gone forever, Mike knew that. They had a lot to discuss tomorrow.
But that was tomorrow.
For now, Mike can sit contently on his aching knees, washing Will's body with all the care and gentleness that Will had missed out on in the past year and a half and think of how grateful he was that Will finally decided to give Mike the chance to care for him like he did everyone else.
Because if anyone deserved it,
it would be Will.