Chapter Text
Will can already hear Chance’s voice behind him, entering their apartment. He doesn’t turn around yet, can’t - none of this matters. He's just done a horrible, horrible thing and he can't stop thinking about it. How did he do that? Why, how? How could Will … how could he do everything he hates? He’d just cried about Chance cheating and then he turned around and did the same. With Mike! His best friend! He made him feel pressured into thinking he had to do it. Mike probably still thinks he’s upholding this “duty” to help him. Shit, Will really fucked up… he needs to change everything, but he can’t. What’s he supposed to do?
Shit, shit, shit …. Chance is gonna hate him. Because it was just a random girl, but Will cheated with Mike and Chance is gonna know. He’s gonna know….
“Will?,” Chance asks behind him and Will’s heart stops completely for a second. He’s gonna know…. he’s gonna know. But …. How could Chance do that to him? Why is all of this so confusing?
Will is standing in the kitchen with his hand trembling, trying to fill a cup with water, yet pathetically failing.
“Will?,” Chance asks, making his voice sound desperate. Why does Will know it’s fake? Because he really does, he knows it in his gut. “Will, baby, can we talk?”
Will doesn’t look up. He’s unable to. How could he? He can’t …. He knows he’ll break apart if he does.
“I’m so sorry, I was drunk and-”
“Why did you do it?,” Will asks straight up and looks up to gauge Chance’s reaction. Look at him, he does break. Seeing Chance’s face so cold, so pretentious … he’s performing to feel bad. Will can tell, but he can’t say it out loud. Why is Chance that way? Why can't he … why is he that way? Why - Will looks away, his eyes already fill with tears.
“I’m sorry! please forgive me, Will.”
“I can’t I can’t forgive you, Chance-”
Chance’s eyes are filled with contrition and Will wants to believe him. He almost looks pleading, and Will wants, he needs to believe him, but he doesn’t. Not after all this time.
“Just…,” Chance says, bringing a hand up to wipe his tears. Will has never seen him cry outside of arguments. “I feel so bad, so guilty, Will. Just that … Mike drove me crazy and I kept thinking about how you don’t want me-” He pauses to let out a sob. “I mean, just think about it, I - we had a fight and when I went away, I found out you let him take care of you and I, I kind of lost it-”
“That was months ago,” Will reminds him as he looks up. Fuck, he really made Chance feel this bad…. Chance’s gaze is fixed onto him, his brows drawn together in a silent plea. They’re standing together in the kitchen and nothing ever comes good from that. Chance can be so cruel, so cold when he’s angry at Will, but when it’s this, when he’s … when he’s crying...
“And I couldn’t talk about it because I felt liek you’d run to him… all my life, people found different people that were better for them and I love you so much and I just don’t want you to- fuck, this sounds like I’m victimizing myself. I'm so sorry, Will, just- so many years, I just kind of learned that others are better at relationships than me. And I felt scared of losing you, so so scared, I lost it-”
Chance has his face buried in his hands, dead still on the other end of the kitchen. And Will’s heart breaks. He knows all about Chance’s trauma, about his parents, about how he was friends with the bullies in high school because they were his only way to be “safe”, to not be ridiculed like he’d been his entire life before. And Will still loves him. All their memories, all that they experienced. How could he not walk over and comfort Chance? How could he not feel bad and guilty at making Chance insecure over all this time? How could anyone not?
Will does exactly that, with his chest shaking, he spreads his arms to wrap them around Chance, who’s still hunched over the kitchen counter. Will needs him to know that it's okay, that he has nothing to fear. Everything is going to be okay. They both did something bad, but Chance has a reason. He had one and Will didn’t. Shit, Will is really just … What can he do?
“I’m so sorry, babe, I’ve been the worst boyfriend… You deserve the world and I've just been stuck in my trauma and didn’t tell you about it, of course you don’t understand…”
“Shh, shh,” Will calms him down by rubbing soft circles onto his back. Chance cheated and it still hurts, but seeing Chance like this hurts a lifetime more. “I’m sorry too… I’m so sorry for making you insecure like that. You should’ve talked to me.”
“But I couldn't. You… you kept on defending him and saying that I’m the toxic one.”
Chance is right. He’s so right. Shit, Will is the worst, he really is…
“You are not, Chance. It was all me.”
“I just… feel so embarrassed when I cry and I can’t tell you….”
The thought of Chance crying, all alone because he thinks Will doesn’t want him to confide in him. Of course he has his flaws, but everyone does. Chance is just a product of his upbringing, he’s still the best that happened to Will and no one else would stay by his side like he does.
“You can always tell me, Ch-”
“But you kept on thinking about him, I could tell, when you said his name last night, or when you…,” Chance says, his voice muffled against Will’s chest. Will feels a rush of admiration for him, the way he’s hunched over, so weak …. Oh, how can he not feel bad, how can he not feel like the worst person on the planet?
“When you draw him all the time, it makes me feel so-”
“I’m so sorry, Chance! But I- I don’t feel like that anymore,” Will says, trying to convince him of the truth. He doesn’t, he doesn’t, he really doesn't. He isn’t a person like that, someone who treats his partner like this and is still hung up on his old love. And then watch his partner say all of this while continuing to lie to him. Will isn't like that, he’s not- He’s not. He’s not.
But tonight… Will's chest is literally hurting from guilt and shame. It feels like a sacrilege, the memory. What can he do? Fuck, just … Chance probably feels so insanely guilty at the moment, like he’s the worst person on the planet, and Will keeps letting him think that he is, that he's the only one who did something bad. It's …. Fuck, how can he be doing this? How can he be so heartless?
“I only … I told him tonight, that I love you and that I hate it that he tries to get me to dislike-”
“What do you mean, tonight?,” Chance asks, pulling back. Before Will gets a view of his face, he could swear that Chance’s eyes are completely dry, but that must be an illusion because the other immediately lifts his fingers to wipe his tears.
Will freezes.
Oh, fuck. Oh, no, no no no. Will's breath hitches and he glances around furtively. Acting like the guiltiest person possible. He can feel Chance’s intense gaze on him.
“Did you see him tonight?”
“I-”
“Did you meet Mike tonight or not, Will?”
“I….” Will can’t hold it anymore. And because he feels so bad, it just breaks out of him. “It was a mistake! I- I think he saw me after you ch-cheated and then he ran up to catch up with me and he probably thought he was doing a good job helping me or something, as the straight friend who helps me out-”
“What happened, Will?,” Chance interrupts him, sounding cold and devoid of any emotion. Like that, he isn’t the Chance from earlier anymore. Just like a mere snap, he’s ice cold.
“I-”
“Talk.”
“I- he kissed me.” The words come out in a small shake and it’s as if a bomb has exploded. Wil can see the exact second that Chance clinks out. It scares him, it scares Will so much, he takes a step back and flinches. When Chance’s eyes turn black, there's never a way to turn the conversation back.
“But I swear, I hated it! I-I-! stopped him, I felt like shit and I’m sorry! It was only after you k-” Will tries to huff desperately, but Chance has already turned away.
And for a tense moment, Will is scared. He knows how this plays out. How it's supposed to go, with Chance. He's going to turn around and grip his wrist, pin him against the wall at any second.
“You kissed him,” Chance repeats with a cold voice. Will feels like a scolded child, standing behind Chance’s tall back.
No, he can't have that, he needs Chance to forgive him, it's never like this, never does Chance just stop talking, never does he abandon him like this, by forcing him to look at him from behind… Will feels a sense of desperation overcome him.
Chance… he always wants his body. No matter how much he hates him at that moment, Chance always envelopes him with his warmth, but now .. now there is just cold. Will can’t stand him mad at him. Absolutely not, no no.
“Chance?,” he asks desperately, but the other is just standing there, unmoving. Please… “Chance? I- I’m sorry, okay? Please-”
Will wraps his arms around Chance’s back because Chance always wants him that way, he always wants his body. Always. Now … that’s how he’ll forgive him. But why isn't he doing anything? Why is he not … why is he-
“Chance? I’m sorry-” He makes sure to press a kiss against Chance’s tense neck and all Will can think about is how he needs to keep him, can’t be alone tonight, needs Chance to forgive him at all cost, has him to… He needs…
In frantic movement, Will glides his mouth along Chance’s neck, the crook of his shoulder, but Chance immediately shrugs him off harshly, making Will trip backwards slightly. Ice cold.
No, no….
Chance doesn’t turn around. Will expects him to break apart, he knows that if Chance doesn't want his body, it must mean he’s furious… that’s why Will is expecting him to turn and explode, to yell all the profanities in the book at him and then turn to run out of the apartment, but instead, while the eeriness of the silence breaks down on them, Chance doesn’t do any of that. He simply walks over to the couch and sits down, leaving Will heaving embarrassedly and humiliated in the kitchen.
“Chance?,” he asks quietly, scared.
Chance doesn’t move. It’s scarily silent. Why does it feel like a gun is loaded and pointed at Will’s head, even though nothing is happening?
Will needs Chance to do something, he literally needs him to. Anything. Please, any words so that Will knows it’s okay, that he knows Chance forgives him.
“Ch-”
“We’re going to a bar tomorrow,” Chance says after a while, his voice eerily calm. It’s a complete turn over from the emotion from just two minutes ago, and not quite like the usual scary calmness.
“Just like we used to and I’ll take you out. Tomorrow, I’ll get you from the building entrance at nine.”
Will listens, standing in the kitchen. He nods desperately, even though Chance can’t even see him. Yes, yes, yes! All of this, he needs to… he needs it. Just like they used to be? Like… going to a bar like before everything went bad? His heart is pounding at the idea. They always used to go out at exactly nine because Chance loves keeping old habits.
“Yes, Chance!,” Will smiles brightly. He should feel pathetic and needy, but this ounce of attention is like validation, like a drug he needs. “We’ll go out together-“
Before Will can finish his sentence, Chance is already getting up and Will’s breath halts. What is he- but Chance doesn’t walk towards him. He goes straight to the door, opens it and walks out without a word.
Will is left standing alone, feeling weirdly cold. His fingers are still shaking, but the movement is already petering out.
Tomorrow… they’ll meet at the bar. Will already feels himself smiling like an idiot, but for some reason, tears are falling at the same time.
…
He thinks about how Chance is the entire next day, while he works on his art and watches a move, trying to distract himself. Is he still angry? Is he still sad? He must want to try to do things right again, but… the way he acted last night was different than everything before. Maybe he’s just… maybe he was shocked because Will is such a fucking monster, after all. He should know why Chance feels insecure about Mike. He should’ve, and he still let him kiss him.
But that doesn’t matter today. Today, they’ll make things right again. Will knows it. Chance and him are going out together. Just like old days. He smiles when he gets ready, taking an hour to pick out the right clothes, the right cologne and pushes his hair to the side a million times.
When Will is done, he walks out and downstairs excitedly, feeling the evening breeze hit him. It’s always nice, the night, while the day always holds tears for some reason.
He looks at his wrist watch. It’s already twelve, but there’s no sight of Change. He’s simply not there. But… why? Why isn’t he there? Where is he? He must be late… Chance hasn’t been late a day in his life. Still, he wouldn’t leave Will alone like this. Not after … giving him the sweet hope of reconciliation. It’s too much, too good for Chance to leave him like this. No, he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t.
Sometimes Will feels like Chance only uses him as a catharsis for his pleasure, his anger, his emotions, anything… but he knows he’s in the wrong here. Giving Chance the fault again, acting like he’s guilty when everything they’re having at the moment is his fault. Will is the worst… But Chance… He’s going to show up, right?
Will can see himself in the reflection of the open glass door. Trying so hard. He’s wearing his new shirt when it changes nothing. He’s pathetic. Of course Chance doesn’t … of course he doesn’t want to spend time with him. Will… god, what is he even doing?!
Will just glances away and clenches his jaw to keep the tears from falling, when he hears close steps approaching him.
Is that Chance!? Is he coming after all!?
Will immediately snaps his head to the side, but it turns out it’s just another guy that has nothing to do with him, walking past him and out of the building.
Will is left staring after him, feeling the emptiness creep him up.
He waits outside for a full hour that day, maybe even more. And he knows, he really knows, that Chance would’ve shown up by now. That he’s never late and that he probably did this because he was angry and of course, of course Will didn’t make it right yet. Of course he has to try harder. This is just embarrassing. It’s so humiliating… But that’s what Will is. Why he can’t have anyone else because no one would stay with him.
He looks up at the sun and decides to walk back to his dorm room, his shoulder sagging, staring at the door with slightly shaky fingers. Chance stood him up.
“Will?,” someone asks from a small distance. Huh?
Will lifts his head and comes face to face with Mike Wheeler.