Chapter Text
“I mean, it’s like they don’t have a singular brain cell!”
Will giggles as Dustin slams his locker shut, the sharp metallic bang echoing down the hall and making Will flinch. “You should have just punched him.”
They are talking about the basketball team. Again. Dustin has let the group get to him, which he once swore he’d never do.
But things are different now.
Hawkins felt frozen in time, as though stuck in a continuous loop. It had almost been a year since the "earthquake," Dustin had lost Eddie, Vecna was nowhere to be found despite the 22 crawls Hopper had completed. And Will was…different.
Being back in Hawkins was strange, despite how much he missed it desperately. Missed his friends. But he did not miss that feeling. That feeling of a slow evil spreading inside of him and pressing into his chest. Being close enough to somewhat feel that Vecna was still there, but not close enough to be as useful to the group as he used to be. And yet, despite all that, it felt like a good kind of different. And he knew why.
Dustin leans against his locker, his chemistry textbook clutched at his side. “Believe me, I wish I had. But I’ve already done that once before.”
“Twice.”
“Whatever.”
Will laughs as he fidgets with the handle of his locker, opening it just a crack before closing it again.
“Dustin, look, you need to just forget it. They’re never gonna change.”
Dustin sends him a homicidal glare. “Wow, I think you’ve found the solution, Will. I’ll ‘just forget it’ now.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
Dustin pulls himself up from off his locker in defeat, letting out a strong huff. “Whatever, man. I’ll see you in an hour.”
Will nods, finally opening his locker as Dustin disappears into one of the classrooms. The first thing he sees is a scrunched up piece of paper, black ink bleeding through it. Will smiles. He was somehow expecting it to be there as there had been a new one every single morning. Exactly why he had not opened his locker in front of Dustin. He pulls the paper free and smooths it out between his fingers to see the familiar, messy handwriting.
Bathroom. I'll be waiting. - C
***
Will's back slams against the locked stall door, the metal rattling as Chance's lips collide with his, the feeling just as exhilarating as the time before. And the time before that. Like adrenaline, only a thousand times stronger.
Will's posture melts against the door as Chance's fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to make his breath hitch. A quiet sound slips from Will's throat before he can stop it, surprising even himself as his hands tighten at Chance's waist.
When Chance's lips leave his mouth, he almost protests, until he feels them trail along his jaw, down the sensitive line of his neck as his hands slide up to his hard shoulders and then to his neck. "I have to go in a second." he manages, breathless, the words barely coming out as Chance's lips linger at his neck deliberately. Will knows better. He knows neck kissing is dangerous territory. Still, he tilts his head back, giving in.
"Nope," Chance murmurs, his voice low and amused as his lips stay on his neck. "Not done yet."
Will's head falls back against the door, immediately complying. Chance laughs softly under his breath before pressing a trail of light kisses back up along his jaw to his cheek, lingering there.
"I need to go, Chance." Will repeats, softer this time, though not very convincing.
He hums in response, the sound vibrating against his skin, then presses a firmer kiss onto Will's cheek and then one to his lips. When he pulls back, his voice is warm and just as breathless as his. "I like it when you say my name."
Will huffs out a quiet laugh, breath pushing between them. "I'll say it as many times as you want later if you let me go to class."
Chance groans in defeat but doesn't move right away. Will takes advantage of this, planting a firm kiss onto his neck.
That finally does it.
Chance lets out a quiet laugh and finally pulls his body off his, his hand resting on his chest as he finally gets to look at him. His cheeks are a light shade of pink and his lips are swollen and red but most of all...he is gorgeous. His black hair falls perfectly in front of his face and his dumb tigers letterman jacket swallows him whole. the sight of him like this hits Will harder than he expects. He bites his lip, wanting to kiss him again.
They both stand there for what felt like hours, still breathless messes. The world feels paused and quiet, as though it will implode if they move.
Will swallows. "I need to talk to you later too. It's about Dusti-"
"No need," Chance interrupts gently, pressing a playful smack onto his Will's chest, understanding immediately. "I'll try to sort it out."
"I know you're doing the best you can. I'm grateful."
Chance smiles and kisses him again, slowly this time. Will's hands find their way to Chance's face, his thumb brushing along his cheek.
"I'll see you later, yeah?" Chance asks, his lips still pressed against Will's before pulling away.
"Later."
***
Look.
Will didn't plan this. He really didn't. It just...happened.
And if anyone's to blame. it's Chance. Entirely Chance. Will refuses to accept responsibility for something he never saw coming, and especially not from someone he hadn't even known existed before California. So how can it be his fault?
Will's first couple of weeks back in Hawkins passed in a blur of noise and motion, days folding into each other that they barely felt real. Before he knew it, the four cracks had been sealed and the walls were put up, keeping everyone inside.
Time only finally decided to really slow down when he met Chance in the empty school corridor.
"Hey, excuse me?"
Will quickly turned to see an unfamiliar face standing a few feet away, holding one of his drawings by the corner. "You dropped this."
He gave Will a small smile, not teasing and not pitying, just...genuine. He stepped closer towards him, pushing the drawing in his hand towards him for him to take.
"Oh, sorry. Thank you."
He reaches for the drawing and their fingers gently brush. It was accidental, but it sent a strange warmth straight up Will's arm. He pulls the drawing back quickly, shoving it into his binder, his cheeks warming.
"You're really talented."
That made Will stop, taking a real look at the boy in front of him. The first thing he noticed was the intensity of him. He had this quiet and magnetic presence. His dark, slightly tousled hair fell naturally around his face, as though he hadn't bothered to tame it because he didn't need to. There was a calm confidence there, not cocky or showy, but more like he knew exactly who he was and didn't feel the need to prove it. His arms were solid and defined even through his retro, long sleeved shirt, and Will clocks it immediately. Basketball. Of course he was.
"Oh- uh- thank you. I appreciate it." Will's voice comes out quieter than he intends, as though ashamed of his own skill. He shifts his weight, his fingers curling nervously around the strap of his bag.
"You're in Mrs. Taylor's art class, right?"
The question catches him off guard, blinking at the boy standing in front of him. His tone was light, like he was really curious. "Yeah? Why?"
The boy laughs, a soft, breathy sound that echoes a little. "I'm in there, too."
"You are?" Will's brows knit together. He searches the boy's face, trying to place it, but it comes up blank. He had never been the most sociable, but he had never noticed how he had never even looked at the people in his cla-
"I sit right behind you. You probably haven't seen me. You never really look behind you." His smile turns sheepish. "Or anywhere."
Heat crept up into Will's neck. He let out an embarrassed huff as his gaze dropped to the floor.
"Listen," The boy continued, his voice lowering, less confident as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don't know if this is too forward or whatever but...Would you mind helping me out with the art project that's been set? I absolutely suck at at."
Will laughed. "Then why do you do it?"
"Because I had to pick another class with sport, and I didn't know what to choose, so..." his voice trails off, embarrassed.
They still stood what feels like miles away from each other in the empty corridor.
"I mean, uh...I guess I could."
"Oh, Yes! You are actually a lifesaver! Um, I'm Chance, by the way." He quickly stepped forward to Will, holding out his hand. He looked at it for a moment before reaching over, their fingers brushing a heartbeat too long before their palms met. The handshake was warm but hesitant, neither of them letting go right away. Chance's gaze flickered up to Will's eyes, waiting for him to speak.
"Will. My name is Will."
"Will."
Chance gives his hand one last shake before letting go, sucking in a breath.
"Well, Will, my place or yours?"
It couldn't be at Will's place because it was actually the Wheeler's place. Him, his mom and Jonathan had been staying there ever since they moved back from California whilst El stayed with Hopper. "Could we do your place?" he asks, trying not to sound like it matters as much as it does.
Chance's mouth curves into a small smile, easy and warm. "Yeah, sure."
"Cool."
"Cool."
And before Will knew it, he was in Chance's car, catching himself glancing over at Chance's hand on the steering wheel and at the way his jaw tightened when he concentrated. Then, suddenly, he was in his bedroom, Chance's project laid out on his desk, untouched, while they made out on his bed for what felt like hours.
He doesn't remember much from before they started kissing. All he remembers is that they had spoken for about half an hour, introducing themselves properly and making jokes before their conversation faded and suddenly went completely quiet as they stared at each other for a bit too long.
"We should probably start your project now." he whispered, their faces inching closer.
"Yeah, that would be...smart." Chance's eyes lingered to Will's lips for a split second before looking back up into his eyes.
"Very smart." Will said quietly, neither of them moving. The space between them shrank on its own, like it was inevitable. Their lips crashed together, his hand immediately sliding up into Chance's hair, his fingers threading through the strands.
And an hour or so later, when Will's lips were sore and his thoughts were pleasantly scrambled, Chance was driving him home. Both their windows were rolled down as 'Young Hearts' blasted through the speakers. Chance drummed his fingers against his steering wheel in time with the music, grinning as Will watched him, laughing. His chest was tight with something he didn't have a name for yet.
This doesn't mean anything, he told himself.
And here he is, three months later, doing whatever this is with someone from Lucas' old basketball team and keeping it a secret from everyone in his life.