rule of nines
Byler | M | Complete | 8.6k
First, there is the dark:
Waking, drowning, sideways-slipping.
A creature with three mouths, ten thousand teeth. The inky collapse of a nebula. A demo-dog with no beak.
Mike in the evening. Mike in the afterlife. Mike with sun-swollen cheeks.
Then:
“Disgusting?” Will echoes.
The clock starts to chime. The world seems to shrink.
“You're disgusting,” Mike says, definitive.
“I’ll just–” Will says, but there is no just about it, only floundering fish-feet as he struggles off the couch and to the foot of the stairs, someone behind him promising the juiciest steak you’ll ever eat!
Then:
Compared to Will’s skin, Mike's hand is nearly searing, long-knuckled, sixteen. It fizzles through Will like a lightning strike. In this moment, in the car, Will wants him.
Will always wants him – his dimples, his fine-motor skills, his tongue caught between his teeth.
[or, after Vecna captures Will, things go a little differently.]
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