[It seems impossible that Mike’s face could get any brighter, any warmer, but it does. Honestly – blindly – Mike has never considered that as a factor, not with Will, not with El, not in any aspect of his life. Frogface, Freakshow… worse ones starting with the same letter. The world has told him he’s ugly and he’s railed against it with fists and bared teeth: so what, fuck off, leave us alone. Even his friends have picked at his hair, his ears, his freckles. But not Will. Never Will.
I’m not, he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Because more than anyone else in the world, he trusts Will. He could never not trust Will, not even when he had black eyes and too-pale skin and a voice that wasn’t his own.
He’s not sure what he’s planning on saying next, with Will’s face so close – his thick eyelashes, his awed little mouth – but it’s certainly not, ]… Frodo’s peeing on the doormat.
[He hadn’t even noticed that the dog had gotten off Will’s back, as sucked into the moment as they’d both been, but apparently Frodo is overdue for a walk.]
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I’m not, he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Because more than anyone else in the world, he trusts Will. He could never not trust Will, not even when he had black eyes and too-pale skin and a voice that wasn’t his own.
He’s not sure what he’s planning on saying next, with Will’s face so close – his thick eyelashes, his awed little mouth – but it’s certainly not, ]… Frodo’s peeing on the doormat.
[He hadn’t even noticed that the dog had gotten off Will’s back, as sucked into the moment as they’d both been, but apparently Frodo is overdue for a walk.]