Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Will woke up on Saturday morning around ten a.m. A dull dizziness lingered behind his eyes as he blinked and looked around the room. It was no surprise to see Carlton still asleep beside him, turned on his side, one arm tangled in the sheets.
Will rubbed his eyes. He had planned to wake up early and clean the apartment a little, but instead he stayed where he was, letting himself rest for a few more minutes.
His life was good now. Maybe not perfect—but close enough. Almost everything he had dreamed about had come true over the past year. Being accepted into art classes at a college in New York still felt unreal sometimes. He had met so many people who shared his interests, people he could talk to for hours about color theory or the meaning of shadows and light.
For the first time, his talent felt real. Not just something his friends from Hawkins believed in, or something Jonathan and his mom said because they loved him. Real artists—people who truly understood art—saw his work and called him talented. Still, Will knew how much he had left to learn. Becoming a professional would take years of hard work.
College itself was easy for him. Living in New York was not.
The apartment he rented was barely bigger than a capsule, in an old building that never seemed to sleep. At night, music and shouting from nearby clubs leaked through the thin walls. Opening the window was impossible if he wanted any sleep at all. On top of that, the restaurant on the ground floor filled the stairwell with the constant smell of grease and fried food.
But it was his only option if he didn’t want to end up sleeping on Max and Lucas’s couch. He loved them more than anything, but they were a couple now, and he didn’t want to get in the way.
His mom and Hopper sent him money when they could, but Will didn’t want to rely on it completely. He knew his mom didn’t have much, and he hated the idea of putting her in a position where she had to depend on Hopper because of him.
Hopper felt like a father now—the kind of father Will had never really had. He was the man who believed his mom without hesitation and rushed into the Upside Down to save him when he was twelve, without stopping to think what it might cost him.
Still, Will wanted to stand on his own. That was why he’d taken a job at a local café. The pay wasn’t great, but he got free coffee and lunch, which mattered more than it sounded. For now, it was enough.
“Hey, babe.”
The sound snapped him out of his thoughts. Will looked toward Carlton and smiled softly.
“Good morning,” he replied. “How are you feeling?”
“Not so good,” Carlton groaned. “I’ve got a headache.”
“I told you not to drink that much.”
“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to relax after such a hard week.”
“Do you want some water? Breakfast? I can make scrambled eggs.”
“I need to wait a bit before I can eat anything,” Carlton said. “Water would be nice.”
Will got out of bed and brought him a bottle of tap water.
Carlton drank the whole thing. “Oh God, I was so thirsty.”
“Do you want some more?”
“No, thanks. By the way, you looked like you were thinking about something. What was it?”
“I was thinking about my old apartment.”
“Thank God you don’t live there anymore. Whenever we met, you smelled like fries. Or fries and coffee.”
Will laughed.
“Yeah. The smell was pretty bad.”
“I’m going to sleep a little longer,” Carlton said. “Then we can plan something nice for the afternoon.”
“Okay.”
Will got out of bed and went to take a shower.
Carlton lay back against the pillows, a little disappointed that Will had left so soon.
After the shower, Will made himself some tea, took his sketchbook, and decided to practice a little. The last classes had been focused on portraits. It seemed like a rather trivial topic, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to practice. He decided to create a portrait of a fictional young, handsome man.
As he drew, his thoughts drifted to his relationship with Carlton.
He had met him at the café where Will worked. Carlton was an everyday customer who ordered the same coffee every day, said thank you, and left. At first, Will hadn’t paid much attention to him. He was just another regular, like the hundreds of others who passed through the café.
That changed when one of Will’s coworkers pointed out that Carlton had started coming in more often after Will was hired. Before, he had never sat at a table, but now he stayed inside the café at least two or three times a day, drinking his coffee instead of taking it to go.
Will caught Carlton staring at him a few times, which made him blush.
A few days later, after Will finished his last shift of the day, Carlton was waiting for him near the café doors. When Will stepped outside, Carlton asked for his name and then asked if he would like to go for a beer with him. Will agreed, even though he wasn’t a big fan of bars or alcohol.
They talked for hours. The next morning, Will was late for class because his alarm couldn’t wake him up.
They started dating, and everything was going really well. It felt nice—almost unreal—to meet someone like Carlton. Someone who was interested in him. That was something completely new for Will.
He looked down at the sketchbook. The basic shapes of the portrait were done. Now it was time for details. A nice nose—not too big. Dark eyes, carefully shaped.
His relationship with Carlton continued to grow slowly, but steadily. Will was busy with classes and work, so they didn’t rush anything.
About a month into dating, Will received a notice from his landlord informing him that his rent would increase by twenty-five percent. He was devastated. He couldn’t afford it. Paying the new rent would mean barely having enough money for food, or having to move out within two weeks.
He immediately ruled out asking his mother for more money.
He started thinking about possible solutions, lost track of time, and before he realized it, someone rang the doorbell. It was Carlton. Will had completely forgotten about their date.
When Carlton heard about Will’s problem, he immediately offered him a place in his apartment. Will wasn’t sure if it was really a good idea, but he was running out of options. In the end, he agreed—on the condition that it would only be temporary.
He looked back down at the sketchbook.
Okay. The eyes were perfect. Regular lips. Now it was time for the hair. Definitely dark, slightly curly. Not too long, but definitely not short. He worked on the neck next, making the Adam’s apple a little more visible.
Carlton’s apartment was nothing like his old one. It was small, but it didn’t feel like a capsule, and it was really nice. The building had been renovated, everything new and fresh. The apartment itself was modern, with a minimal design, and Will liked it.
The location was perfect. It was only a three-minute walk to his job. Living here was completely different from the awful capsule he used to live in.
They had been living together for three months now, and Will had stopped looking for his own apartment. Their relationship had sped up because they spent so much more time together, but Will wasn’t really ready for everything Carlton wanted to offer him.
He felt like something was missing. Sometimes he thought he was ungrateful, that he didn’t deserve someone as great as Carlton, who was genuinely kind to him. Will hoped that everything would come in the right time for them.
He looked at the sketchbook again. The portrait was finished. It looked really, really good.
Then it hit him.
Why on earth had he drawn a portrait of Mike?
Carlton got out of bed, and Will instantly closed the sketchbook, like a child who had been caught red-handed doing something terrible.
“What were you drawing?” Carlton asked casually as he stretched.
Will froze for half a second.
“Nothing,” he said too quickly, keeping the sketchbook closed on his lap.
Carlton raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Just practicing?”
“Yeah,” Will replied. “A portrait assignment.”
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Carlton said, his voice light, but curious.
Will shrugged. “I need to practice as much as I can.”
Carlton studied him for a moment, then smiled. “Fair enough.”
He stood up and grabbed a clean T-shirt from the chair. “I’m going to take a quick shower. I still feel like I smell like last night.”
“Okay,” Will said, relief softening his shoulders.
“When I’m done,” Carlton added from the bathroom doorway, “we could grab breakfast. There’s that little place around the corner—you know, the one with the great croissants.”
Will hesitated. Just for a second.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “That sounds nice.”
Carlton smiled at him before disappearing into the bathroom.Will waited until the sound of running water filled the apartment before opening the sketchbook again.
He looked at the portrait. He remembered every detail of Mike’s face so well that the drawing could have been a photograph. The curve of his mouth, the shape of his eyes—nothing felt imagined.
Will closed the sketchbook carefully and put it back in its place, his fingers lingering on the cover for a moment longer than necessary.Then he sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Carlton.