i love being sober and talking to drunk people at parties cause i asked a guy “if you were a wizard what kind of spells would you cast” and i know he wasnt lying when he said “summon creatures”
The fight that started it all. Or rather, what came after the fight that started it all.
No warnings except for some spicy flirting and heavy implications of sleeping together. It's in that 86-87 timeskip so nothing at all graphic except the banter and making out. Enjoy?
(under the cut for length ig)
Will can taste the blood on his tongue, salty and metallic but as they both catch eyes, wild and alive while Dustin and Andy hold them both back, they're both smirking through bloodied faces and bruises that'll no doubt look worse than they are.
"Dude, c'mon. We gotta go." Dustin warns, holding Will around the middle in a bear hug.
"I'm fine." He pulls away, but they're both still staring, a sly knowing grin that's not meant for anyone else to notice in all the commotion.
"This ain't over." Andy concedes, dragging his friend away before any teachers could catch on.
"Bathroom in 5." Chance mouths while Andy lets him go and they both head further down the hall. Will, however, is snapped out of his little haze by Dustin grabbing his chin and inspecting the damage.
"You're fucking dead, Byers!" He shouts. For good measure.
"Dustin, I'm fine, I swear." He politely moves away and then while looking for an easy out, he waves off his friend's concern.
Dustin laments about how much of an asshole Chance is. But Will...
There's something he can't quite explain starting to smoulder just beneath the surface. And all he can think about is another encounter with Chance Lawson.
"I'll. I'll see you later, alright?" Will waves him off and heads in the same direction he saw Chance go in.
"Yeah, alright man. Go to the nurse." Dustin calls out, but Will's already halfway down the hall.
He rounds the corner and before he can take another step, he's grabbed hard by the shirt and dragged into a bathroom that's being set to out of order and locked by the time Will can even see who's got a hold of him.
"The fuck?! Get the fuck off!" Will manages to shout before pushing him away.
That urge is back again and he can't tell whether it's rage or...
He doesn't want to think of the alternative as he finally gets a look and rolls his eyes.
"Don't tell me I have to beat your ass again, Lawson." He's still messed up and bleeding from their fight but he's closing the gap rapidly between them then pinning Will between his body and the cold brick wall. And there's this look in his eyes.
"Shut up a second." And there it is. Soft lips so rough against Will's, and hands holding his head in place. And for the life of him, Will can't understand or comprehend it, but there's something he likes about their tongues down each other's throats. A fire that seems far beyond extinguishing as Will grabs Chance's Varsity jacket and pulls him so they're flush against each other, damning the sensation of him not feeling anywhere near close enough.
Will's not sure why he does it, but before they can really sink any deeper, he bites Chance's bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood.
"Jesus fuck! Look at this shit, Byers! you fucking bit me!" Chance holds his fingertips to his now bleeding lip. Will grabs him by the hips and shoves him up against a sink. The change in pace both angering and exciting them when their eyes finally meet, still wild - with rage, with desire, who can say which.
"Yeah, well now we're even." He points to the cut on his lip where Chance punched him.
They stay with Chance pressed against the sink for a moment longer, unable to tell if they want to fight more or...
And with little thought or warning, they're kissing again, just as hungrily and violently as the fight that broke out in the hall. And judging by the keening sounds they're both making into each other's mouths...
Fighting may be the last thing on either of their minds.
"Wanna come home with me?"
Chance asks breathless when they break apart, his hands still on Will's hips while his breath is hot against his collarbone and neck. And all Will can do is nod and reply with a shaky breath -
"Yes."
They both take one last look into each other's eyes. They should hate this, there should be anger, but all either can see, either cares to see is that fire, that wild want to scratch and claw and tear each other apart until there's nothing left and Chance feels it too when they find themselves almost diving in for another tumultuous kiss.
Before either go, however. Chance is trying his best to wipe away the blood from Will's lip, at least make him look more presentable before they walk out and not just like they've ravaged each other right against the bathroom sink.
"Your nose looks pretty bad. And I'm pretty sure that cut's gonna need stitches." Will says, making casual conversation.
"You got a hell of a haymaker there, Byers. Who knew you had it in ya?" Chance laughs and tries to use his shirt to clear away the blood.
"I can do it again. Show you what I'm really capable of." Will jests, then starts to tend to the cut on Chance's eyebrow.
Will stands against the sink beside him once finished, and when Chance catches a glimpse in the mirror, he spots Will looking at him with a glint in his eye that says whatever this is between them is far from over. Then he's lifting Chance's chin up with his fingers, looking like he's starving for more than just a taste.
It's a look that Chance can't seem to turn away from and again, they're making out, this time he's making sure Will's legs are wrapped around his waist and they're as close as they can get until Chance pulls away and whispers -
"C'mon." It's low in Will's ear when Chance takes him by the hand and leads him out of the bathroom. And even though they could easily get caught, they keep their fingers threaded together. Will's heart's racing. They should be fighting again not looking for an exit so they can ditch class.
But that's part of the thrill that hits in a way that both shocks and excites Will. A sensation rips through him that he's unsure how to contain.
They both manage to sneak away quietly and without notice, and once they make it to the parking lot, they're headed straight for a tricked out black 1979 Dodge Pickup.
The Beast, Chance lovingly calls it.
They're shoving each other up against the driver's side door with a force, kissing again as if it's the last thing either will ever do. That fire only seems to burn brighter with each look, each touch, each kiss as they finally pour into the truck through the driver's side.
"Still wanna go home with me?" Chance asks, roughly sucking an angry red welt into Will's neck and drawing out a gasp that he swears sounds like a groan.
"Uh huh. Unless you're too chicken." It just slips out in the midst of another heated kiss. "No one has to know." It's the giggle he lets out that gets Chance and now more than when they met in the bathroom, wants more of whatever this side of Will Byers is.
"God, you are just...." He can't even finish talking before their tongues are back down each other's throat and Chance has Will pinned to the red leather seat under him.
"You sure?" He gives Will a chance to back out, to walk away and pretend they're not feverishly making out in the front seat of his truck.
"Because I really wanna take my time with you." Chance admits in a low, husky tone in Will's ear, adding as he plants a hungry open mouthed kiss on his neck -
"Show you what it's like to be with a real man." It's all for show but by the look on Will's face and the way he responds with another kiss, Chance can tell he's already got him.
Hook, line and sinker.
"God, shut up. You talk too much." Will whines into one more kisses and suffice it to say, they don't make it out of the parking lot...
At least not immediately.
Will's the first to wake up a few hours later in a strange bed he's never slept in, and the boy he's spent the better part of a day with is still very much asleep beside him. He thinks about what they did in the front seat of his pickup truck, what they did on his couch, on the kitchen counter, in his bathroom, even in this new bed he's woken up in as daylight begins to fade.
"Shit. My mom's gonna fucking kill me." Will says it loud enough to wake his bedside companion as he scrambles for his clothes.
"Just say you're crashing with a friend."
"Yeah last I checked, you and I aren't friends." Will laughs sarcastically as he pulls his jeans on, only to be stopped by Chance sitting up behind him and teasing against the back of his neck where he's leaving little kisses -
"We could be friends." Will feels Chance's lips move, feels his hands wander around his waist as he nips at the skin just under his ear and tells him,
"C'mon, Byers. You know you like this. I know you like this. Why quit now?" It's true. And Will doesn't even deny it.
Will instead finds himself reaching behind and letting his hand run through Chance's hair as his head falls back on the boy's shoulder.
"We don't have to stop this." Their eyes meet again, hazy with want and yet neither can find it in themselves to pull away.
"Fine." Will sighs, only to warn Chance as their lips get dangerously close -
"After tonight, we can't see each other like this again. I think we should..."
"After tonight?" Chance interrupts with a smirk. There's no intentions of either stopping and as they sink back under the covers of Chance's bed, they both know there's no way Will's making it back to the Wheelers.
Unfortunately, I haven't gotten much writing done in the last few months, but I've been primarily working on my Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic, Warpath, and I think most likely the next two chapters I publish will be in this fic, since I've made at least some progress in them both.
The very next chapter (title: Politician's Smile) is from Wyll's POV, and it's been slow going primarily because I'm not as familiar with his voice as I am with Lae'zel's, Shadowheart's, or Astarion's since I didn't have him in my party after Act One (he left after I destroyed the Grove). He's not going to be in this story after Act One either, but I'm planning to expand his role in Act One significantly because one of the primary things I'm trying to do with this fic (in addition to giving BG3 a better, more in-depth evil path) is to give the NPCs more agency and independent influence in the story outside of simply following the player character's lead. Psychology and accurate narrative voice are almost always my number one priority when writing, so I intend to keep tweaking this chapter as long as it takes until the voice is just right. (And, besides, all the death and betrayal to come won't be very meaningful if you don't get to know and care about these characters as people first, will it?)
Anyway, though the chapter is still a long way from finished, here's an excerpt from a section that I think is already in a pretty decent state:
“Go on,” Wyll said. “Give me your best shot.”
With a trembling hand, Umi raised his sword. The little tiefling paused, took a moment to steady himself. Then struck.
Wyll deflected. Their swords clashed, and Umi lost his grip. His blade tumbled out of his hand and clattered noisily to the ground. In an instant, Wyll’s own blade hovered before the tiefling’s face—barely an inch from the tip of his nose.
That frightened him. Though Umi knew the blade was blunt, just one glance at the child showed that his instincts hadn’t quite caught up to that knowledge.
But Wyll could hardly ease up on him. It would do no good to pretend the world was safe. They had to make it safe.
“Not bad,” he said, lowering the sword and giving Umi an encouraging smile. “Again.”
Umi released a shaky breath. Bending down, he retrieved the sword, then returned to his starting position. He looked up at Wyll, the uncertainty in his face slowly hardening into determination. He raised the sword once more. His right leg twitched in a manner that made it all too obvious what his next move would be.
He lunged.
Again, Wyll deflected. Umi’s momentum carried him just far enough forward for Wyll to bring his sword around and tap it into his back. Umi staggered, then whirled around, shooting a silent, angry glare at Wyll.
Good. Anger was far more likely to keep him alive than fear. If only Wyll could teach him to channel it productively.
But he doubted there would be time for a philosophy lesson.
“Easy mistake,” he said, smiling to take the edge off the criticism. “Next time, don’t move before you’re ready to strike. Or your enemy might see it coming. Again.”
He turned and waited for Umi to reposition himself. But the child didn’t move. Wyll looked back to find the little tiefling with his head hung low, horns pointed forlornly at the ground.
“I can’t do it,” he said in a tiny voice. “I’m not like you.”
Internally, Wyll sighed. What was that he’d just decided? That there would be no time for a philosophy lesson? He should’ve known better. An army was made or broken by its morale.
“Umi,” he said, kneeling so his face was level with the child’s. “You don’t need to be like me. You just need to buy enough time to run.”
Umi’s eyes widened—though whether out of fear or mere surprise at his bluntness, Wyll wasn’t certain. Wyll smiled, hoping to lighten the weight of the thought.
“When you make it to Baldur’s Gate,” he continued, “you’ll have plenty of time to perfect your swordsmanship. If that’s what you want. But first, you need to survive the trip.” He gave Umi a quick pat on the shoulder. “Come on. I believe in you. You can do this.”
“Can’t I take a break?” Umi pleaded.
Wyll hesitated, wishing he could say yes. But from what he’d seen, those druids were on the edge of expelling their unwanted guests by force. He had no way of protecting the tieflings save by teaching them to fight for themselves. And no way of knowing just how much time they had left.
“Tell you what,” he said, a new idea springing suddenly to mind. If it was fear of an opponent who outmatched him that was holding Umi back… “Why don’t you pair up with one of your friends and practice all the forms we’ve learned together for a bit? Then, after you get tired, you can both take a break.”
“All right,” Umi said, his face brightening. “I’ll go see if Barris wants to fight!”
He ran off, barreling through the crowd of tiefling children and straight towards his friend. Wyll watched him, his sword wiggling wildly by his side as he ran, and felt his first natural smile of the day find its way onto his face.
Of course. He should’ve thought of it sooner. There was no better balm for hard times than camaraderie.
A moment later, his calm was broken by a distant shriek.
Tagging: @illusivesoul, @advictoriams, @ghostoffuturespast, @milkywayes, and @wanderingaldecaldo. No pressure ofc!
Putting the term "Catholic guilt" on a high shelf where fandom can't reach it until everyone learns how to identify characters who are very very clearly coded as Protestant.
I say this every time, but people Do Not Realize just how short the timeline has been on gay people in kids’ media. And it’s an ongoing fight, but this was 10 - 15 years ago.
I'm not in the Steven Universe fandom. I don't really even know the show. But the story she's telling here is important to remember. What feels like small snippets of representation took a lot of fighting to get and it wasn't as long ago as you think.
titsay
