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The blankets are warm, piled up at the foot of the bed. The sheets are creased. The clothes from the previous day are scattered on the ground, forgotten. They are lying close together, the sunlight rising inexorably towards their eyes.
Will has already turned off the alarm clock. In reality, he doesn't need the alarm clock today: adrenaline fizzes through his veins at the same rate as the most intrepid red blood cells. His hand unravels from the sheets and lands on Mike's side.
Mike’s profile is sculptural, so dense yet so delicate. Will's fingertips explore Mike’s exposed skin. They set off on an adventure in the dimples of Venus, then explore the defined muscles of the back and shoulders. They dive into the abs and march up to the center of the chest, up to the neck.
Since living together, mornings have become their favorite time of day. Mike is always reluctant to wake up, but Will now knows how to convince him. It's always a collection of delicate touches, impalpable kisses and whispered words. The days they don't have work, the hours in bed drag on until their stomach complaints become so fierce and loud that they can't be ignored.
But this isn't one of those mornings.
Will's touch gets more insistent. He moves: his chest is now attached to Mike's back and his mouth is a few inches from his ear.
“It's time to wake up. It's the big day” he whispers. His voice produces an imperceptible shift of air that makes Mike's hair flutter and teases his auricle.
Mike's hands move to caress Will's hand, which is still on his cheek. He slowly turns to his boyfriend, with a small, sly smile. In a fraction of seconds his lips change, as if overcome by a mysterious force, and tend into a large, noisy yawn. They both burst out laughing.
Mike sticks his own face into Will's neck, who places a hand on his lower back and pushes him toward him. Bare skin warms up from rubbing. The bed is big now, but they never sleep more than a few inches away.
“Every day with you is a great day” Mike mumbles.
---
It all starts the day before the essay on Tolkien is due. Mike is sitting at the table of his favorite bar, his legs crossed, a half-drunk coffee, an expanse of papers, and his hand full of ink. He doesn't know why, but it always comes down to the last. His biggest resolution for next semester is to convince himself to start earlier.
It's quiet around him, the atmosphere is quiet and music plays on the radio, a background that's never annoying. Only after a few minutes does he notice that someone is standing in front of him.
Mike looks up. The boy is the cute barista who serves him the best coffee and the biggest desserts. He has sweet, shy brown eyes and he is playing with his fingers. He looks embarrassed.
“I don't want to bother you, but the café is closing” the barista warns him. His voice is always cautious and polite.
Mike feels disconsolate. He has finally found inspiration, and moving to a new environment could destabilize him to the point where he can no longer write anything.
“I'm sorry, I didn't notice the time. But I'm almost done. Can I stay another ten minutes?” He blinks, trying to convince the other boy.
The barista smiles at him. “All right. I'm starting to fix it.”
Mike starts writing again, but every now and then out of the corner of his eye he peeks at each other's movements. They still stay half an hour and leave the cafeteria together. It's hot outside, summer is nearby, and sunset is still fading behind the houses. They have to go in the same direction.
“I'm Will,” the boy says before he starts asking about Mike's course. For the first time in months, Mike is talking to someone other than his family and group of friends. He doesn’t like going to parties, but when Will invites him to the one his friends have organized for the end of the year, Mike can't help but happily accept.
Will studies art and every time Mike enters his cafe, he feels his heart tighten. He's normally an extrovert, but with guys who like to talk, it seems like the hardest thing in the world. Mike has long hair that reaches under his ears and he is tall and lanky, occasionally trips over chairs and looks like a newborn fawn to Will.
The party isn't really a party. That's six people complaining about their week and exams.
Mike decides that Dustin is the smartest person he will ever meet. He keeps talking about all the errors in his nuclear physics exam track even though no one understands anything.
Mike and Will are sitting close together in the corner of the couch, their thighs pressed together and their arms still brushing against each other as they share their opinions on the latest comic book series that everyone except Eleven seems to have read. She's more of a 19th-century novel person, and she and Mike find themselves talking about Frankenstein's unprecedented innovation.
At the end of the evening Mike feels he has found some new friends. He wonders where they had been hiding all his freshman year of college. He doesn't wonder why he's so happy that Will lingers so long in the hug.
Summer holidays are spent in sticky heat. Between a customer asking for a science fiction book and one wanting Dostoevsky's best work, Mike continues to wipe away the sweat beading his forehead. He eagerly waits until the end of his shift at the library to run to the bar where Will works. Then he watches him serve the last customers while sipping a strawberry milkshake.
All their friends came home for the holidays and they are the only ones left. Will lives with his brother Jonathan, while he almost never sees his parents. One night he reveals to Mike that they are part of the secret service and Mike thinks he is joking. Until the night covers the whole sky with its cloak of stars, they stroll through the city. Then it's more the times they sleep off each other than the times they stay in their own beds.
When Mike first sees Will's sketches for a possible comic, he is blown away. From that moment on they spend every free second designing their comic. Mike's room welcomes Will's drawings, which pile up next to his ideas for the characters' lines.
In a few months they become one. Their bodies know each other's needs; Mike knows the grimace that runs through Will's face when he needs a neck massage, and Will perfectly recognizes Mike's tirade about losing inspiration. They gravitate around each other and don't allow anyone to dent their duo.
It's natural when one day, after working late, their eyes cross for focusing too much on the cartoons, their lips meet, their breaths merge, and their cheeks turn red.
They are at Will's house. Jonathan went on vacation with his no-longer-enemy Steve. All the steps they took towards each other culminate in an explosion of kisses. Their bodies search for each other incessantly, their hands wander, and the journey to Will's room is filled with laughter at the constant clashes they have with the furniture. They trip over the carpet and almost end up on the ground.
“You're so handsome” Will whispers as he looks at Mike's broken face: his red, swollen lips, his dilated pupils, his messy hair. Mike is sitting against the headboard of the bed. They need a break, but their hearts don't seem to feel the same way.
The goal of the evening is to gain new skin. The hands wander, more and more centimeters are discovered and immediately attacked by hungry lips. There is no room for words, but they never needed them. They understand each other with just one look. When dawn comes in through the window, they have decided that they will never break up.
The first quarrel strikes them one winter afternoon. They've known each other for a few months but no longer remember what it was like to live without the other. No one moves after Mike accuses Will of working too hard and never seeing each other. Will looks him in the eye, defends himself, accuses Mike of not understanding his situation. It lasts five minutes. Then they hug and end up rolling on the couch. They turn on a movie and forget what happened. They never fight again. They learn to be a team where blame is evenly distributed.
---
Will tries to get up, but Mike grabs him by the hips and brings him back towards him. She hugs him, tickles him, and knows Will won't say anything because he's the first to appreciate staying in bed a little longer.
“Come on, we'll be late” Will whispers between kisses. They are slow and deep, between two people who now think they cannot survive even one day without the other. They eventually get out of bed and head to the kitchen, where Mike begins making breakfast.
“Are you excited?” asks Will, who is biting into eggs with bacon.
He nods and hides a smile behind the cup of coffee. “We've been living these big days every week for a year, but I don't think I'll ever get used to it.”
They finish breakfast and then get dressed. Mike grabs the scarf and wraps it around Will's neck and then closes all the buttons on his coat. They leave the house and walk on the sidewalk. Their hands keep touching, but they don't really hold hands. A little smile appears at every step.
The journey is short, there is almost no one around them. The shop shutters are still down. The newsstand in the center of the square is opening at that moment. They approach together, their hips collide. Mike takes his wallet out of his pocket and the moment they've been waiting for a week arrives.
The newsagent looks at them smiling and hands them the comic. It's small, it's the sixtieth volume. On the cover there is a wizard fighting against a dragon.
Their names are printed on the first page. They look at each other and they know that they will write a million more.