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Will held the window frame and jumped inside his room. Luckily, there doesn’t seem to be anyone in the apartment because he made a scandalous fall on the floor. He was used silently to sneaking in to his bedroom, however, today he couldn’t even keep his body straight. Will didn’t had sleep or had eaten properly for two… or three… days by now. His limbs were heavy, his eyes lids has well. So, today, just today, he didn’t mind making noise. He backed himself against the wall, letting a deep shaky breath come out of his lungs, shutting his eyes off. Will don’t have a clue how he survived that day. The only thing that lasted was a lightheaded Will and a stinky Spider-man costume.
His stomach screamed. He was starving.
Will headed to the kitchen, looking around, making sure that he was alone. He grabbed two slices of bread and filled it with butter. He held it with his teeth, opening the fridge, taking a can of coke and a chocolate bar.
Will shut his bedroom door and then locked it, in case of someone else getting home. He had his tiny meal and looked at his clock on the nightstand, it marked “07:36pm”, and Mike’s concert was going to start at eight.
Will undressed his sweaty thigh uniform, took a brief shower, which felt like a bless. He dried his hair with a towel and let the rest dry naturally. He wanted to look presentable, at least. Since Spider-Man was born, Will Byers hasn't had much time to be himself, so he constantly used to dress like a homeless person. But that day was different, it was for Mike. He didn’t even know from were to begin.
After he put on his hero uniform - a clean one, - and layered it with a The Cure t-shirt, a leather blazer and some black trousers. Will adorned his neck and fingers with shining chain necklaces and metallic rings, some adorned with translucent stones.
Will was committed to looking well dressed. He knew that he didn't deserve something like that, love, he was Spider-Man.Though, he caught himself fantasising if Mike would like his outfit choice, even if he was fully committed to Jane. Will felt like something was missing.
In the same moment of the realisation, he searched for his makeup kit and gathered it all on his desk. It was old and unused. Opening the drawer on his left, he caught a tiny mirror. He looked at the reflection in horror, without recognising his own face. He was tired. Dark circles laid under his eyes, which ones he was forcing to keep open all day long. The lack of sleep, food and basic human needs was killing him.
To hide his zombie look, Will carefully applied the white paint firstly on his cheeks, then on his forehead, and slowly covered all his face surface until he looked like a ghost. He put on a purple sparkling shadow on his eyelids, then blended its tips with black, drawing sharp ends. Will contoured his nose bridge and beneath his cheekbones, making them smooth, added black lipstick and took a look at himself in the body mirror.
He looked great, actually.
Even if it had been a long time since he last applied makeup, dressed like he used to and went to a real gig, instead of fighting criminals and the weird guy in a goblin cosplay, swinging through New York with sick spider powers in a ridiculous suit. He took a last glance at the clock on the nightstand. “07:55pm”.
Will quickly grabbed his mask and hid it in his inside blazer pocket – just in case. - There was no other option except swinging. Who would tell, the perks of being Spider-Man!
Luckily, Will arrived on time.
~⚡︎ 🕷️ ⚡︎~
Will magically immerses himself in the environment he has entered, loosing himself in the music beat. He doesn’t even remember the last time since he frequented some show house. It was all dark, just painted in a mix of blue and red lights. People were shrunken like sardines and smelt like sweat and alcohol.
Punk music was playing in the background, and across the heavy instrumental, an angelic voice made home in Will’s hearing. Mike.
He channelled his way to the front of the stage, finding Mike, energetically playing his blue guitar and singing, almost kissing the microphone.
You could kiss me instead.
I shouldn’t have these kinds of thoughts… it's wrong.
Their glances finally found each other.
His hazel eyes met the familiar chocolate-coloured iris. Their thing happened again. Time slowed down, Will congealed, hypnotised by Mike’s gorgon look, who was wearing some black ripped jeans, a simple white shirt, a leather jacket adorned with some band pins and a pair of combat boots. His hair was black and shaggy, with its tips dyed in hot orange at the shoulder's size. His eyes were accompanied with black eyeliner, slightly smudged.
He energetically performed the song he was singing, making his metallic earrings swing. Mike looked gorgeous, almost angelical, that night.
At the end of the song, he turned to the band and said something. The other members nodded, and the bassist rolled his eyes and giggled to the drummer, joking of Mike’s choice, who responded with a grin.
Another music started playing. Will recognised immediately, “Just Like Heaven, by The Cure”, but dirtier and more screamed. Definitely "punkier".
Mike’s voice came out of his mouth, taking Will’s breath out of his lungs.
“Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick.
‘The one that makes me scream,' she said.
‘The one that makes me laugh,' she said.
And threw her arms around my neck."
Listening to Mike was the closest thing Will had to a transcendental experience. He was enchanted by every sound wave that entered his ears, shaking each one of his limbs.
“Show me how you do it.
And I promise you,
I promise that
I'll run away with you.
I'll run away with you."
Mike’s facial expression softened at the last verse.
Will wondered if he would stay frozen in that moment forever, under Mike’s spell. Their eyes were sparkling more than New York lights, their gaze spreading through the whole environment, illuminating life like a lighthouse lamp in a wide ocean, not even daring to look away.
“Spinning on that dizzy edge
Kissed her face and kissed her head
Dreamed of all the different ways
I had to make him glow."
Both of them widened their eyes at the ”mistake”. Mike look away from Will’s eyes, embarrassed. But quickly returned his gaze towards his honey iris.
Will delighted in every syllable and each word that Mike spell on him. He could sink in Mike’s eyes and Mike’s voice and stay still in the same position forever.
“'Why are you so far away?' he said.
‘Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you?
That I'm in love with you?’”
It was the most beautiful eternity in his lifetime, and he wished that he could have it in his pocket just for him, forever.
Music – Mike's music – kept waltzing in his ears for the rest of the show, and probably for the rest of his life, even when the band announced the end of their performance.
Will had to see Mike. Right now. Just to see his bright face, all covered in sweat.
Will crawled through the messy crowd, pushing and shoving each other, looking for Mike. He wanted to look at every detail of his face and soul, to learn every inch of the universe of his own. All he wanted was to glance at Mike’s eyes after his energetic performance and tell him, “That I’m in love with you," even if those words would be locked in his chest forever, since this is a dangerous sentence to say.
And after some time of frenetic chasing, he finally found him.
They ran towards each other’s direction, both anxiously anticipating their meeting.
“That was awesome!” The words slipped out of Will’s mouth between some shy giggles. “I mean, your gig – you have such a stage presence,” he nervously complimented, gesturing.
“Oh! Thank you, I guess," he responded, painting a smile that gets on his blushing cheeks and softly takes space in his eyes. “And your makeup is sick!” Will smiles at the response.
Thin rain droplets started falling from the cloudy sky, which had no stars, because the two boys had borrowed them to paint their own colliding galaxies. Consequently, their eyes were more sparkling that night, adorned with stolen stars, because, probably, they wouldn’t return them to the universe.
“I’m glad that you actually came by,” Mike continued. "Since we graduated, we don’t meet each other that much. We could plan something, like, the whole party.”
Who needs the whole party!
“Y-yeah, sure! That’s a great idea. Really." He hesitantly agreed and then got quiet. Maybe I should…he came up with something. “We could have some hotdogs, ya’ know, just… you and me.” Will hopefully offer the possibility to Mike.
“Right now?”
“M’hm,” Will nodded.
The rain was getting harder. Water started to fill the road, travelling down storm drains on the empty road.
“I’d like to hang out with you, but I’m going to dinner with El. Do you want to join us? I mean, it’s not a cool restaurant and everything, but the food is kinda great.”
“No, thanks. I don’t want to ruin the mood.” Will embarrassed himself by the answer.
Mike looked down at his watch and then at Will. “I need to get on my way. El must be waiting for me. See you around!” The boy smiled one last time at the other’s hazel eyes and left, leaving Will alone.
“Bye.” Will followed Mike, leaving the place with him, observing the boy tracing his path to the nearest tube station. The streets were quiet, since most people were still inside the show house or in the bars nearby.
Will’s hair was all wet, his makeup melted and his clothes drenched. The miserable way he looked in that moment didn’t really matter, because his face painted an overgrown smile. A real one. He knew that his faith was dying alone in some heroic act and he couldn’t fall in love. Hurting somebody else besides him wasn’t a risk he would take. He would never forgive himself if someone else ended hurt, or worse, even.
Will’s thoughts come and go, while he observed Mike. something weird was happening. Two men, suspiciously talking to each other and then turning their heads to Mike.
They started following him.
Shit!
Will started to take his blazer and pants off, running in the direction of the road and throwing his clothes at some random spot.
They were cornering Mike.
One of them, who was wearing a cap, grabbed his hands and abruptly pushed him towards the wall, hitting his head in the process. “Hey, little faggot,” the man approached. “Where do you keep your wallet? If you tell us, it will make our job easier, you know."
He was alone, there was no one around them. At the realisation, Mike tried to unravel himself from the robbers. At the same moment he - ineffectively - attempted to run, but the other pressed him against the wall again.
Mike grimaced.
“Calm down,” the other guy said and handed a penknife and directed it under Mike’s chin, close to his throat. “Listen to me, if you don’t collaborate, we’re going to have to do it in the worst way.”
Suddenly, the knife guy got pulled back by a mysterious shadow, familiar to Mike, who pushed him right in the face. He fell like a ragdoll on the floor.
The cap man turned his back against Mike, handing a gun instinctively.
“C’mon! This is cowardice! You’re the only one armed here, and it’s two against one. Let me make things fair.” Spider-Man shot the gun and quickly threw it to the other corner before the robber even thought about using it. “Now we can start for real.” Considering that he didn’t have time to wear his mask, Will put his suit’s hoodie instead, to preserve his identity, obviously.
He started jumping in excitement, like he was a child on a trampoline. In an adrenaline boost, the robbers attempted to attack the spider-guy-in-extremely-tight-clothes, which failed. Because, in a zero-effort action, the hero – can he even call himself like that? - hit their heads like two domino pieces toppling down on each other. At least they tried.
They ran away in fear. I was kind of comical.
Mike moved away from the brick wall behind him, stepping into the darkness. He squinted at the mysterious hero before him, searching for some humanity on Spider-Man's face – which could possibly have lots of eyes and appear to be something close to some kind of a mutant. - He wondered why he was known by "Spider-Man", since he didn’t have any extra limbs or something spider-like. Mike’s eyes started to distinguish some lines lightened by the dim illumination. A nose, a mouth, two eyes. Definitely human. But who owned these traits was a question he couldn’t answer in that instant.
Will’s silhouette was waltzing in the shadows. He adjusted his hoodie to cover all of his face, looking for a corner to hide from Mike’s dangerously curious gazing. They were drowned in silence, wet with unsaid words and rain. Hovering around raindrops, secrets they wanted to share, but couldn’t. Spider-Man broke the thin barrier of sound.
“You have a knack for getting in trouble.”
Mike grinned, slightly flirting. “You have a knack for saving my ass. I think I have a superhero stalker.” He answered, referring to the last time he was rescued.
Mike wondered for some seconds if he really was going to say it. “I have a question, I know it’s dumb. But you have powers? Like, for real, since you climb walls and shit… or is it a science thing?” He asked, really curious about the response.
“They are natural”
“So… you are like a sorcerer.” Will turned his head in doubt about what that supposed to mean. “I mean… from D&D…” Mike raised his hands, gesturing while explaining. “Forget about it, too nerd for Spider-man.” He puffed a giggle between a embarrassed grin.
“I get it. Actually, I used to play ‘Dih n Dih’ too”
Mike came closer, intrigued. Every single inch less before them was a premonition of what was going to happen. Even if Will insisted on retreating, hiding in the darkness has he was used to, Mike kept going forward, bringing light with him.
The superhero turned his back against Mike and disappeared in the shadows. And Mike, in response, chased him in the alley he entered. After some seconds the hero appeared hanging upside down, with his mask on, face to face with Mike, separated by some insignificant inches.
“Do I get to say 'thank you' this time?” Mike rhetorically asked, opening a wild, passionate smile .
His fingertips carefully held Spider-Man's mask ends and pulled it down to the height of the middle of his nose bridge, exposing his soft pink lips, anteriorly painted with black lipstick, which was hard to see in the poor light. It attracted Mike like a magnet is attracted to metal. He looked at it with desire. He didn't just want it, he needed it.
The small number of atoms dividing them was driving them both insane. They couldn’t keep that distance anymore. And they wouldn’t.
Mike got closer. Slowly. Putting both his hands on each side of Spider-Man's red cheeks. They were approaching like two colliding galaxies.
They finally collide.
The first brush was the avalanche.
Their lips softly matched, like puzzle pieces. Mike slid his tongue into Will’s mouth, it tasted like butterflies were frenetically dancing in his stomach.
They were slowly melting in the bittersweet rain in a messy waltz. Tangling themselves in an untangling spiderweb so they could keep their souls crossed like that forever. As well as their tongues, entrancing, thirsty for more saliva, even if they were drowning in the heavy rain and covered in wet. The warmth they found inside each other’s mouths contrasted perfectly with the cold raindrops bouncing against their epidermis, which filled their bodies with ecstasy.
All of their preoccupations vanished and were replaced with hope. Jane didn’t matter right now, Green Goblin neither. Just he and Mike existed in their universe.
Mike bit Will’s upper lip, it gave him goosebumps all over his body and something close to a heart attack going on in his chest. His legs were trembling, and if he wasn’t being held by his web, he would’ve probably fallen straight on the floor.
Mike pressed his thumbs stronger against Spider-Man's blushed cheeks and headed his other fingers toward the back of his neck, inside his hoodie and close to the spider bite. Those were passionate dance moves, sharing their breaths in the harmony of the rhythmic “bleps” of water droplets. Waltzing in synchrony to the out-of-step song of their own. And just like the universe, life and existence, everything comes to an end.
They moved their lips apart since Mike was breathless. The stars trapped in his eyes were collapsing into supernovas, just like Will’s were, and they were the only thing that stayed. And hopefully, they would keep exploding in thousands of colours, like fireworks, every time they remembered that amount of shared seconds. It will be encrusted underneath their skin, mixed inside the core of their souls, forever.
It was the most beautiful glance Will ever have in his life. Mike’s face was painted with raindrops, glittered with bright stardust, stollen from the empty skies. His hair was drenched, hot orange fringe glued on his forehead and the rest of his hair framing his face. He was beautiful that night.
Time was coming back to its ordinary compass, bringing with it the realisation of what they've done.
Oh, gosh… it’s so wrong.
I’m so stupid.
I should’ve agreed with that.
I want to die right now.
Will felt something out of order, his heart was racing faster, but in a different kind of heartbeat. His breathing was running at another frequency, forcing him to use his mouth to try to regain control of the inlet of oxygen into his lungs. Will’s eyes opened wide, filled up with guilt of repressed desires. He couldn’t have Mike for him. Ever. They are boys. He is Spider-man.
I would only cause suffering to Mike…
It could hurt Mike…
I could literally kill Mike.
In a sudden movement, Spider-Man lifted up - to Mike’s surprise, - getting out of the way of Mike’s view, losing himself in the darkness, where he really belonged, alone.
He couldn’t swing too far. So he landed on a dirty terrace of some random residential building. Will took his mask off to help himself stabilise his breathless chest's uncontrollable shaking. His eyes got filled up with tears of sorrow as he fought against their fall, because if they did fall, Will would fall apart with them too. And it was out of question. He was Spider-man, the unbreakable Spider-man. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t fall…
I can’t…
He feel on the roof, tears silently feel with his weight, raining down on his face. It hurts. Oh god, how it hurts…
Why?
Will need to keep on his path. He had to keep on his feet. It was his fate, his duty and primarily, his responsibility.
Love cuts like a knife. And even if his inside was all dead and empty, he could still fell pain, open wounds left on his already aching heart. This is the kind of feeling that could never delight in his position.
A woman's shouting coming from a short distance could be heard from the empty streets. At the acknowledgement, Will cleaned his wet swollen eyes and took one last deep breath accompanied by a suffered sniff.
Will wore his mask again, because there’s no peace for Spider-Man. The city never sleeps, and neither does he.