Work Text:
Tap.....
Tap tap.....
Tap tap tap tap—
Will groans into his pillow.
For one blissful second he thinks maybe it’s part of a dream.
Then the tapping comes again, louder this time, followed by a muffled whisper outside his window.
“Will!”
Will’s eyes snap open.
He sits upright so fast he nearly headbutts the wall beside his bed. The cabin is dark except for moonlight pouring through the curtains, and for one horrifying second he thinks maybe something’s wrong—
Then he sees the silhouette outside the window.
Mike.
Balanced terribly on his bike, one hand gripping the frame while the other taps against the glass again.
Will immediately scrambles over.
“What are you doing?!” he whisper-hisses while shoving the window open.
Cold night air rushes in.
Mike looks pink-cheeked from the cold, nose red, hands shoved under his arms for warmth. There’s something ridiculous about seeing him here like this—half-frozen and sleepy and still willing to bike across Hawkins at midnight just to see him.
Mike beams at him like an idiot. “Hi.”
“It’s midnight!”
“Technically,” Mike says, climbing halfway through the window already, “it’s twelve-thirty.”
“Mike—”
“I missed you.”
Will stops.
Mike says things like that now sometimes. Casually. Like it doesn’t rearrange every single organ in Will’s body.
Outside, crickets chirp softly in the woods.
Mike’s hair is windswept from biking over, his eyes bright and fixed entirely on Will like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
Will swallows hard.
“You biked all the way here?”
“Yeah.”
“For me?”
Mike snorts softly. “No, for Hopper actually. I wanted to see if he’d adopt me.”
Will laughs before he can help it, quiet and breathless.
Mike’s expression immediately goes soft at the sound.
God.
That look is becoming dangerous.
“Can I come in,” Mike whispers, “or are you gonna leave me hanging out the window forever?”
Will rolls his eyes, but steps back anyway.
Mike climbs inside awkwardly, nearly tripping over the windowsill and catching himself on Will’s shoulders at the last second.
“Jesus—”
“Shh!”
Mike bites back laughter while Will hurriedly shuts the window behind him.
The cabin falls quiet again.
Small.
Warm.
Too close.
Mike’s hands are still resting on Will’s arms.
Will becomes painfully aware of this all at once.
So does Mike apparently, because his grin fades into something quieter.
Something nervous.
Neither of them move.
It still feels unreal sometimes.
The kissing.
The secret hand-holding under tables.
Mike showing up at Will’s window after midnight because he “couldn’t sleep without seeing him.”
Will still hasn’t figured out what to do with all that.
Mike rubs his thumb lightly against Will’s sleeve. “Hi,” he says again, softer this time.
Will’s stomach flips violently.
“Hi,” he whispers back.
Mike leans in first.
Tentative at first—still careful, even weeks into this, like he’s scared Will might disappear if he moves too fast.
Will kisses him back immediately.
Mike melts against him with this tiny relieved sound that nearly kills him on the spot.
Their kisses are always kind of clumsy still. Smiling too much. Bumping noses sometimes. Laughing into each other’s mouths.
But Will thinks maybe that makes it better.
Mike’s hands slide carefully to his waist.
Will grips the front of Mike’s jacket tighter.
When they finally pull apart, both of them are smiling so hard it almost hurts.
“You’re cold,” Will whispers, still close enough that their noses brush when he talks.
Mike’s grin turns crooked. “Well maybe you should warm me up then.”
Will’s face flushes instantly.
“You’re insane,” he murmurs pushing mike away
Mike shrugs, completely unapologetic. “Yeah, but you like me anyway.”
Unfortunately, he says it with that stupid soft smile that makes Will feel like his stomach is doing flips
Will sighs dramatically. “Fine. You can stay.”
Mike lights up immediately. “Really?”
“For a little while.”
Mike is already kicking off his shoes before Will even finishes speaking.
“Will, c’mere.”
Will rolls his eyes, mostly to hide how fond he feels. “You’re still cold.”
Mike groans, holding his arms out dramatically. “Guess I’ll perish here in your cabin.”
“You’re so annoying,” Will mutters, even as he walks over anyway.
“And yet—” Mike steps closer the second he’s near, nudging their noses together lightly, “—you let me climb through your window at midnight.”
Will tries to glare at him.
It would probably work better if he wasn’t smiling.
Mike’s expression softens a little then. He reaches for Will’s hands carefully, threading their fingers together like he still can’t fully believe he’s allowed to.
That part gets Will every single time.
The gentleness of it.
Like Mike spent so many years wanting this that now he handles it like something precious. Fragile.
Will squeezes Mike’s hand once before he can overthink it.
Mike goes still for a second.
“Oh,” he says quietly.
Will ducks his head immediately. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t even say anything!”
Mike laughs softly under his breath and drops back onto the bed, tugging Will forward until he’s standing between his knees, Mike’s hands settling warm against his waist.
Will looks down at him automatically.
Mike looks up at him the same way he always does lately—soft and open and a little awed, like he still hasn’t fully processed that this is real.
“You know,” Mike says, quieter this time, thumb brushing absentminded circles against Will’s side, “I really did miss you.”
Something in Will’s chest twists painfully.
Because Mike says it so easily.
Like loving Will is the simplest thing in the world.
Will swallows hard and looks away first.
“You saw me yesterday,” he mutters weakly.
“Yeah,” Mike says immediately. “Too long.”
Will huffs out a laugh before he can stop it.
Mike smiles at the sound, gentler now.
“I mean it,” he says. “School sucks when I can’t talk to you.”
Will blinks at him. “ what are you talking about? We talk.”
“Not really.” Mike shrugs one shoulder. “Not like this.”
Will thinks about their knees touching under the table, the secret smiles hidden behind textbooks, Mike reaching for his hand every five seconds just because he can.
Will’s face warms all over again.
Mike notices immediately, obviously
“You’re blushing.”
“I hate you.”
Mike grins. “aw, you don't mean that”
Will tries to glare, but Mike’s hands are still resting on his waist, warm and careful, and his hair is all messy from the bike ride, and his eyes keep flicking down to Will’s mouth every few seconds like he can’t help himself.
It makes Will feel dizzy.
Mike leans forward a little. “C’mere.”
“You’re literally already holding me.”
“Will....”
Will snorts helplessly.
Then Mike rests his forehead lightly against Will’s stomach, arms slipping more securely around his waist.
And just like that, all the teasing disappears.
Will’s breath catches softly.
Mike sighs against him, content and tired all at once.
“Missed this too,” he mumbles.
Will stares down at him for a second before his fingers slowly slide into Mike’s hair.
Mike melts instantly. Completely.
Will feels him smile against his sweatshirt.
And god, Will is so completely done for.
“I missed you too,” Will admits softly.
Mike goes completely still for a second.
Then he looks up at Will like he just handed him the moon.
It’s so open. So impossibly fond that Will almost has to look away.
Almost.
Instead, his fingers stay tangled carefully in Mike’s hair, brushing through the soft curls at the back of his neck.
Mike leans into it instinctively.
Mike looks up at him “Wow,” he says quietly.
Will groans immediately. “shut up, your dramatic"
“And you’re cute when you’re mean to me.”
Will feels his face burn hotter. “Mike.”
“What?” Mike asks innocently, though the smile tugging at his mouth ruins the act completely.
Will shakes his head, trying and failing not to smile back.
Mike watches him for a second like he’s memorizing it.
Then his expression softens again, quieter this time.
“I really like this,” he says.
Will’s stomach flips. “The cabin?”
“You.” Mike’s arms tighten slightly around his waist. “This. Sneaking over here. You playing with my hair.” He smiles a little. “Feels like I’m getting away with something.”
“You are getting away with something.”
Mike laughs softly.
Outside, wind rattles lightly through the trees, the cabin warm and dim around them. Somewhere deeper in the house, a pipe creaks.
But here, in Will’s room, everything feels still.
Safe.
Mike tilts his head back just enough to look at him again. “Can I stay the night?”
Will pretends to think about it.
“Hm. Depends.”
“On what?”
“You snore.”
Mike gasps loudly. “i don't snore!"
“You absolutely do.”
“I do not!”
Will raises an eyebrow.
Mike pauses.
“…Maybe a little.”
Will laughs, and Mike immediately smiles too, like hearing it is his favorite thing in the world.
“Okay,” Mike says after a second, “Counteroffer.”
Will narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Why do you sound like a lawyer?”
“Because this is serious.” Mike squeezes lightly at his waist. “If I stay over, I’ll be quiet, respectful, and only snore a medium amount.”
“A medium amount?”
“Barely noticeable, honestly.”
“You drool too.”
Mike looks deeply offended. “You have no proof.”
“I literally have your drool on my pillow from last week.”
“That could belong to anyone.”
Will stares at him.
Mike tries to hold the serious expression for about two seconds before cracking up completely.
Will shakes his head, smiling helplessly.
“You’re impossible.”
Mike smiles up at him for another long second before finally tugging gently on Will’s hand.
“C’mon,” he murmurs. “My legs are gonna fall off if I stay sitting like this.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
“Cruel.”
Still, Will lets Mike pull him down beside him, arms wrapping around his middle the second he settles onto the bed.
Like instinct.
Will lets out a quiet huff as Mike buries his face against his chest again.
“Tired?” Will murmurs.
Mike nods against him. “Bike ride was long.”
“It’s like twenty minutes away.”
“In freezing temperatures.”
“It’s October.”
Mike lifts his head just enough to glare at him. “You’re being really unsupportive right now.”
Will smiles and threads his fingers back through Mike’s hair.
That shuts him up instantly.
Mike practically melts boneless against him with a quiet sigh, eyes slipping half-shut.
Will feels something warm bloom painfully in his chest at the sight.
He still isn’t used to this.
To being wanted so openly.
To Mike looking happiest when he’s curled up against Will like this, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
Mike’s voice comes quieter now, words starting to blur with sleep. “You know I’d still come here even if Hopper actually did try to kill me.”
Will snorts softly. “That’s not romantic. That’s concerning.”
“M’serious.”
“I know.”
Mike’s grip tightens a little around him.
Will looks down.
Mike’s eyes are already closed.
“You falling asleep on me?” Will whispers.
“No.”
A pause.
Then, sleepily:
“Maybe.”
Will laughs under his breath.
Eventually they manage to untangle enough to crawl fully under the blankets, though Mike complains dramatically the entire time
The mattress dips beneath their weight, old springs creaking softly as Mike immediately rolls onto his side to face him. Their knees bump together beneath the blankets.
Close.
Everything with Mike feels close now.
Mike reaches up absentmindedly, pushing a piece of hair away from Will’s forehead.
Will’s heart stutters embarrassingly hard.
“You keep doing that,” he mutters.
“What?”
“Looking at me like…” Will gestures vaguely. “Like that.”
Mike smiles sleepily. “Can’t help it.”
Will rolls his eyes, but it loses all effect when Mike scoots even closer, practically folding himself against Will’s side.
“You’re clingy,” Will says quietly.
“And whose fault is that?”
Mike says it so casually that Will doesn’t even realize what he means at first.
Then he does.
Heat crawls all the way up his neck.
Mike grins triumphantly at his expression before burying his face against Will’s shoulder.
“your so pretty,” he mumbles.
Will goes still at that, like his brain short-circuits for a second.
“Don’t say that,” he mutters,
Mike doesn’t move away. If anything, he settles in closer, like Will is the only place he’s supposed to be. His voice comes out muffled against Will’s shoulder.
“Why not?”
Will glances down at him. “Because you’re… you’re just saying stuff.”
Mike lifts his head slightly, just enough to look at him properly. His grin softens at the edges, less teasing now and more real.
“I’m not just saying stuff,” he says. " Will your amazing"
That makes Will’s chest feel weird in a way he doesn’t have a name for. He looks away first, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve like it suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world.
“You say weird things,” he says, quieter now.
Mike doesn’t even hesitate.
“Yeah,” he says simply. “But I mean them.”
That lands heavier than the teasing ever did.
Will’s fingers pause at his sleeve. He can feel Mike watching him—really watching him now, like he’s not just joking around anymore, like he’s actually waiting to see what Will does with that.
Will swallows.
“You can’t just… say stuff like that,” he tries again, but it comes out weaker this time.
Mike shifts a little, still close, still not giving him space even though Will kind of needs it and kind of doesn’t.
“Why not?” Mike asks again, softer now.
Will opens his mouth, then closes it.
Because it feels like too much. Because it makes him feel seen in a way that’s kind of terrifying. Because it makes him want to believe it.
He doesn’t say any of that.
Instead he just mutters, “It’s embarrassing.”
Mike’s expression changes at that—like something clicks into place.
“Oh,” he says quietly.
A pause.
Then, a little more careful, “Does it make you uncomfortable?”
Will shakes his head fast.
“No. It’s just—” He hesitates, then finally admits it in a smaller voice, “It’s a lot.”
Mike goes quiet for a second,
His hold on will weakens
“Okay,” he says. “I can do less.”
Will notices it immediately—the way Mike’s hold loosens, like he’s already halfway to pulling away.
And something in Will panics at that more than the words ever did.
“No—” he blurts, before he can stop himself.
Mike pauses.
Will takes a breath, slower this time, forcing the words to behave.
“I didn’t mean stop,” he says, quieter. “I just meant… I guess I’m not used to being loved like this.”
The last part comes out barely above a whisper, like saying it too loudly might make it disappear.
Mike doesn’t move away.
He just goes still.
Like that sentence hits him somewhere deeper than he was prepared for.
Then, very quietly, “Oh.”
Mike shifts again, but this time it isn’t pulling back. It’s adjusting, like he’s correcting something he didn’t realize he got wrong.
“You don’t have to be used to it,” he says.
Will keeps his eyes on the ceiling, like if he looks anywhere else he might fall apart a little.
“I don’t know how,” he admits, barely audible.
Mike nods like that makes perfect sense. Like it’s not a problem that needs fixing, just something he needs to understand.
“Okay,” he says softly. “Then I’ll just… keep doing it.”
Will finally glances at him, confused. “Keep doing what?”
Mike’s expression is steady, but gentle.
“Loving you,” he says, like it’s the simplest answer in the world. “and I'll keep doing it until it doesn’t feel like too much anymore"
Will huffs a small breath through his nose.
“That’s not how it works,” he says automatically.
Mike tilts his head. “Why not?”
Will opens his mouth—then stops.
Because there isn’t a clean answer to that.
Because the truth is just a messy tangle of what he’s used to and what he doesn’t believe he gets to have.
He swallows.
“Because,” he starts, then falters, voice dropping again, “people don’t just… keep doing that.”
Mike doesn’t look away.
“Why not?”
Will lets out a quiet, frustrated breath. “Because they don’t.”
“That’s not an answer,” Mike says gently.
That makes Will finally turn his head, just slightly, enough to look at him properly.
Mike looks… steady. Not challenging. Not pushing. Just there, like he’s refusing to let the conversation slip away into old assumptions.
Will’s voice comes out smaller.
“People get tired,” he says. “Or they realize they were wrong. Or it gets annoying.”
Mike blinks slowly, like he’s taking each option seriously.
Then he says, “will, I don't think I'll ever get tired of you”
Will’s face goes warm immediately—too fast to hide, too obvious to pretend it didn’t happen.
“I—” he starts, then stops, like his brain has completely lost its instructions.
Mike notices right away.
“I’m not doing this because I think you’ll fix it,” he says after a moment. “Or because I’m waiting for it to feel easier.”
His hand finds wills and gently squeeze it
“I’m doing it because I want to.”
Will’s fingers tighten faintly at his sleeve.
A million things go through his head—too fast, too tangled to catch properly.
Mike loves him.
The thought doesn’t arrive gently. It just hits.
And for a second, Will doesn’t know what to do with it at all.
His throat feels tight.
Mike is still there beside him, waiting—not pushing, not filling the silence. Just giving him space to land wherever he’s going to land.
Will swallows.
“That’s…” he starts, then stops again, because his voice feels unreliable right now.
Mike tilts his head slightly. “That’s what?”
Will finally looks at him.
Really looks.
Like he’s trying to confirm it’s real and not something he imagined in the space between words.
“That’s a lot,” he says again, but it’s different this time.
Mike’s expression softens immediately.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I know.”
A pause.
Then, gentler, “You don’t have to say anything back. Or figure it out right now.”
Will lets out a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
“I’m not good at this,” he admits.
Mike’s mouth quirks slightly. “Neither am I.”
That gets Will to huff something close to a laugh—small, but real.
Mike shifts just a little closer again, careful like always, like he’s learning Will’s edges as he goes.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeats, softer this time. “That part’s simple.”
Will’s eyes drop again, but he doesn’t pull away.
“So I’ll stay until it stops feeling impossible, and a little longer.”
Will looks at Mike, his expression soft in a way he probably doesn’t even realize he’s making.
“…You’re really weird,” he mutters.
Mike doesn’t even try to defend himself. He just smiles a little wider, like that’s the nicest thing Will could’ve said.
“Yeah,” he agrees easily. “But you’re still here.”
That makes Will blink.
Because it’s true.
He is still here.
Even though everything in his head feels messy and unfamiliar and a little too bright.
Will shifts slightly, shoulder brushing Mike’s again without him thinking about it. This time, he doesn’t pull away from it.
“…That doesn’t mean I understand you,” he says quietly.
Mike hums. “You don’t have to.”
A pause.
Then, softer, like it’s the simplest conclusion in the world:
“You just have to let me stay.”
Will hesitates.
His eyes drop for a second, then flick back up to Mike’s face.
“…You’re not gonna, like, suddenly decide I’m too much?” he asks, quieter now.
Mike’s expression changes immediately—subtle, but firm.
“No,” he says. “That’s not a thing that’s gonna happen.” dropping his head to wills shoulder
Will studies him for a second longer,
“…Okay,” he says
Will can feel Mike smiling against his sweatshirt.
Outside, wind brushes softly through the trees surrounding the cabin. The room is dark except for the weak glow of Will’s bedside lamp, everything warm and hazy with exhaustion.
Mike’s arms slide around his waist again automatically.
Like they belong there.
Will stares at the ceiling for a while, listening to Mike breathe.
"I'm sorry that you had to bike over to see me" will says quietly
After a minute, Mike speaks again, voice already sleepy.
"You know id bike over to see you in a storm"
Will shakes his head, smiling despite himself.
Then, quieter:
“You can stay.”
Mike stills.
Even half-asleep, Will feels the way those words hit him.
“Yeah?” Mike asks softly.
Will nods once against his hair. “Yeah.”
Mike makes this tiny happy sound Will doesn’t think he was meant to hear.
Then he pulls the blankets higher around both of them and presses one last sleepy kiss against Will’s jaw.
A few minutes later, Mike’s breathing evens out completely.
By the time the cabin goes fully quiet, Mike is half sprawled on top of him, one arm thrown around Will’s waist, their legs tangled together beneath the blankets.
Will stares up at the dark ceiling for a long moment.
Listening to Mike breathe.
Feeling the steady warmth of him.
Safe.
Wanted.
Loved.
The thought hits so hard it almost scares him.
But then Mike shifts closer even in sleep, holding onto him tighter without waking up, and something inside Will softens completely.
Will closes his eyes.
Then he falls asleep too.
...
Mike wakes up warm.
Warm blankets, warm morning light slipping through the thin cabin curtains, and Will curled against his side so tightly it almost feels like they grew there overnight. Mike blinks sleepily at the ceiling for a second, disoriented, before the memory comes rushing back.
Cabin.
Midnight bike ride.
Will cracking the window open so Mike could climb in without Hopper hearing.
Mike grins instantly. Will had shifted in the night, his face half-buried in Mike’s shoulder, hair sticking up everywhere. His hand is fisted in the front of Mike’s shirt like he grabbed it sometime during the night and refused to let go.
Mike’s chest aches in that terrible, wonderful way Will always makes it ache lately.
Carefully, he brushes a thumb against Will’s wrist.
Will makes a tiny sound and scooches closer.
Mike has exactly enough time to think: ~oh my god I’m actually gonna die, I love him so much~
Then Will’s eyes open.
Green eyes blinking slowly.
Soft with sleep.
He stares at Mike for three whole seconds.
And then—
Will bolts upright so fast Mike nearly gets whiplash.
“GET OUT,” Will whisper-yells immediately.
Mike recoils. “What?!”
“Get out get out get out—”
“You invited me here!”
“My mom’s awake!”
Mike freezes.
Both of them listen.
The cabin is quiet except for distant movement somewhere inside the house.
A cabinet shutting.
Footsteps.
Will looks genuinely horrified now.
“Oh my god,” he hisses, scrambling over mike “If Hopper sees you in here I’ll actually die.”
Mike snorts. “You’re being dramatic.”
Will whips around. “Mike, Hopper owns guns.”
“Okay, fair point.”
Another creak from down the hall.
Will panics harder.
He’s suddenly everywhere at once—snatching Mike’s stuff off the floor, under the desk, off the lamp like the room itself is trying to sabotage them. One sneaker by the desk. Hoodie draped over the lampshade. Jeans somehow halfway shoved under the bed like they tried to escape on their own.
“How did your pants even get over there?” Will hisses.
“It was hot!! I took them off!”
Will finally looks at Mike properly for the first time that morning.
And immediately regrets it.
Because Mike is just… there.
In a T-shirt and boxers like it’s completely normal, like he isn’t currently sitting in Will’s bedroom at risk of being discovered by Joyce at any second. Hair messy, blanket half twisted around his legs, looking way to comfortable
Will’s brain short-circuits.
He just stares.
Mike blinks up at him. “What?”
Will opens his mouth.
Closes it.
“You are not dressed.” he says finally
Mike looks down at himself like this is new information. “Oh. Yeah.”
Will turns bright red instantly.
Mike notices and bursts out laughing.
“Shut up,” Will mutters, throwing the pants directly at his face.
Mike catches it, still grinning stupidly.
Will keeps pacing. “Okay. Okay. Window. You leave through the window.”
“The window!?” mike exclaims still getting dressed
“Yes, the window!”
Mike walks over and squints outside. “Will, that’s like an 3 foot drop.” he complains
“You have a bike helmet. You’ll survive.”
Mike turns back toward him with a dramatic hand over his heart. “You’re so mean to me.”
Will grabs his face suddenly and kisses him quick and panicked.
Mike forgets how to function for a solid five seconds.
“There,” Will says breathlessly. “Now go.”
Mike stares at him. “You can’t kiss me and then kick me out the window.”
“I absolutely can.”
Footsteps get closer.
Both of them go rigid.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Will?” Joyce calls. “You awake?”
Will practically launches Mike toward the window.
“GO.”
“Okay, okay—”
Mike scrambles awkwardly onto the windowsill, one leg already hanging out.
“Why are you pushing me like I’m escaping prison—”
“Because you are,” Will hisses.
Another knock.
“Will?”
“COMING!” Will squeaks back, voice cracking horribly.
Mike snorts at exactly the wrong moment.
Will whips around and glares at him with pure betrayal.
Mike clamps both hands over his mouth, shoulders shaking silently.
“Move,” Will mouths furiously.
Mike grabs wills coller and gives him a sloppy kiss and starts climbing out the window
Then immediately slips.
“AHH—”
There’s a loud THUMP from outside followed by the unmistakable sound of leaves crunching violently.
Will slaps both hands over his face.
“Oh my god.”
Outside, Mike groans weakly from the forest floor.
“I’m okay,” he whisper-yells.
Joyce tries the doorknob.
Will nearly has a heart attack.
“Just a second!” he blurts, lunging across the room to yank Mike’s hoodie out from under the bed.
Outside the window, Mike appears again slowly, hair full of leaves now.
He gives Will a thumbs up.
Then immediately loses his balance and disappears again with another crash.
Will bites down hard on his sleeve to stop himself from laughing.
“Will?” Joyce says again, suspicious now.
“YEAH,” Will says, voice still strangled. “I’m—getting dressed!”
There’s a long pause.
Then:“…At nine in the morning?”
Will freezes.
Outside, Mike is visibly dying trying not to laugh.
Traitor.
“Uh..... yeah” Will says intelligently.
Mike peeks up over the windowsill again, grinning like an idiot despite the dirt smeared across his cheek.
Will glares at him while frantically shoving his sneaker out the window at his head.
Mike barely catches it before it nails him in the face.
“OW,” he whisper-shouts.
“You deserve worse,” Will mouths back immediately.
Joyce sighs from the other side of the door. “Breakfast in ten minutes, okay honey?”
“Okay!”
Her footsteps finally start to fade.
The second they’re gone, Will collapses face-first onto the bed with a muffled groan.
Outside, Mike’s head pops back into view one last time.
His hair is a disaster.
There’s a twig stuck in it.
And somehow he still looks unbearably pleased with himself.
“Worth it,” he whispers.
Will throws the other shoe at him.