Chapter 20

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No matter how much time he spends with Boris, it’s always hard seeing him go. They had finished watching Ghostbusters, hands clasped tightly together despite Mike’s confused glances every now and then, only for his mom to kindly remind him that Jonathan and Argyle were due to take him home that afternoon.

It makes his stomach swoop downwards like a pit, feeling so much like a loss, even though he knows in his heart that he’ll see him again soon.

After the three of them collectively clean up their movie mess, Boris dismisses himself to gather his things from Will’s room, leaving Will and Mike alone in the kitchen. Will, at that moment, wants nothing more than to follow.

Mike is standing next to the sink, watching him with eyes that seem to hold something knowledgeable, but with what, Will doesn’t know. He isn’t sure he wants to find out either—not just yet.

“So…” Mike starts. And like a startled colt, Will runs.

“I’m gonna go make sure Boris doesn’t forget anything.”

The look on his friend’s face can only be described as put out.

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll be right back,” Will assures him.

Mike nods. Will nods back. And then flees, flees to the safety of Boris, who is waiting for him behind his closed bedroom door, arms crossed, smirk on his face.

“You jerk,” Will says immediately. “You did that on purpose.”

“I would never do such a thing, William. Only thought you two could use a moment. He looked as if he has had his first thought in years.”

“That’s…” Will splutters, “that’s not nice.”

“HA!” Boris’s laugh explodes throughout the room. “Am not wrong though.”

“What if I don’t want to know his thoughts?” Will asks, shifting uncomfortably. It makes him feel terrible to say. There was a time not so long ago when he would have given anything to know every thought on Mike’s mind. Good or bad. But now, he just doesn’t feel ready. He had a moment of bravery during the movie, but he forgot during that time that he was going to be alone to face the consequences.

“You worry it is bad?”

“I mean, yeah.”

“Why?” Boris asks, dropping his arms and stepping closer, reaching out to give comfort.

“He saw us holding hands,” Will almost whispers.

“So?” Boris says nonchalantly.

“What if he…what if he’s…”

“Piss on him if he’s angry. No loss to you. But maybe he is not angry. He could be many things. Confused. Jealous—”

Will scoffs.

“Mike’s not jealous.”

“How would you know? Everyone should be jealous that I have you.”

Boris is fully in his space now, holding on to his arms, nuzzling his nose into his cheek. It makes Will feel complete and loved.

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