“I think we should go hang out with Mike,” Will says. He’s currently sitting on his bed, sketching a picture of Boris stretched out languidly on his floor. His curls are spilled every which way, and his shirt is riding up to show a peek of his stomach. Will feels flustered but is trying hard not to show it—he thinks it’s stupid that he can still be flustered so easily.
“I think we should smoke weed again,” Boris offers in rebuttal.
“That sounds great, except I said I was only doing it once, and Mike is here now.”
“No fun,” Boris frowns.
Will finishes the final touches on Boris’s hair before laying the sketch pad and pencil down next to him.
“Oh, I’m no fun, huh?” he asks, teasing.
Boris nods, his frown quickly transforming to a small smile quirking at his lips.
“None at all.”
Will lithely climbs from his bed and makes his way over to his boyfriend, kneeling next to him on the floor.
“Just the most boring person you’ve ever met, right?”
Boris reaches out to wrap his elegant fingers around Will’s wrist.
“The very worst,” he says.
Will lets himself be pulled down so that the other can tug him into his arms and press a full kiss to his mouth. He kisses him again, and again, and again, until they’re both breathless.
“You know my door doesn’t lock. We’re gonna get caught eventually.”
Boris’s smile is wide now.
“Exciting,” he says.
“I know I’ve said this before, but you’re ridiculous. That is not exciting.”
His boyfriend nuzzles his nose underneath his ear in a ticklish gesture that has tingles running down his spine.
“Should let me mark you,” he mutters.
“Mark me?” Will squeaks. “Like…a hickey?”
Boris hums his confirmation.
“Just a small thing,” he assures him. Then he buries his face in Will’s neck making him squirm at the sensation.
“You’re insane!”
He grabs Boris by the face and pushes him back down so that he can evaluate his expression, and he immediately regrets it. His eyes are so alive and mischievous, highlighted by a sly grin and flushed cheekbones. He looks every bit like he stepped out of a dream, and it makes Will feel woozy and weak.
“Why would you want to do something like that?” Will presses on despite the feeling. Worried that if he stares too long or falls into it that he’ll end up giving in.
“How could I not? Look at you. Want everyone to know you are taken.”
“It’s spring break, Boris. They’ll want to know by who.”
“Is that so bad? For them to know you are mine? Your brother did not mind.”
Will shrugs one shoulder, immediately
conflicted.
“It would…change things. Jonathan is Jonathan. My mom’s…my mom.”
“And she is a good mother. I can tell.”
Will pulls his lower lip between his teeth, stomach churning at the thought of his mom’s reaction. He knows in his heart that his mom loves him, and would never turn him away, but there’s this itch at the back of his mind, this horrible scenario he’s built up over years where’s she’s devastated. Devastated at the loss of her marriage, because all along her husband was right about him being…
“Hey,” Boris startles him with a soft touch to his face. “Do not think so much, William. I would never force such a thing. You know that.”
Will reaches up to cover Boris’s hand with his own.
“I know,” he says. “I know that. I wish I could tell them too. I’m just…not ready.”
“And that is okay.”
Overwhelmed at his boyfriend’s understanding, Will leans down again to capture his lips in another kiss, which Boris welcomes with a sigh. He’s so full of feeling, a big undefinable frenzy, that he can’t really help himself. For once, like Boris encourages him to at times, he takes. He nips at his lower lip, not gently nor too hard, and Boris parts them willingly for a deep, open mouth kiss.
This time, Will’s the one teasing with the tip of his tongue, dipping and tracing in a way that has Boris—his Borya—pressing back for more. The door lock is long forgotten as Will tangles a hand in his boyfriend’s hair, holds him still so that he can devour and plunder in a way that has them clinging tightly to each other.
When they part, lips swollen and eyes hazy, Will only has one thought in his mind.
“I fucking love you,” he murmurs.
Boris’s eyebrows raise as he smiles. Then, he giggles, a silly little thing Will’s only ever heard when he’s high.
“You said fuck!” he says gleefully, kicking his feet for good measure.
Will gives him a flat look despite the affection he feels.
“That’s what you take out of all of this?”
“Mhmm,” Boris hums, threading his fingers through the hair at the back of Will’s head. “You are sweet boy. Never hear bad words out of you.”
“Maybe you’re a bad influence, then. And I’m not always a sweet boy.”
Boris pulls Will down a fraction so that he can press his nose into Will cheek and whisper: “You are always my sweet boy.”
Will can’t help but grin as Boris presses a peck to his cheek.
“And I love you too, William.”
“Good,” Will says.
He starts to rise from the floor, where he’s been sprawled and tangled in Boris for who knows how long now.
“You know we still need to hang out with Mike, right?”
Boris throws an arm over his eyes and pretends like he doesn’t hear him.
