Chapter Text
The clock on Will’s nightstand was an old, beige plastic box that hummed with a low-frequency vibration before the internal gears clicked to advance the minute. It was 12:14 AM.
In the sweltering humidity of an Indiana July, the silence of the Byers' house was a symphony of settling wood, the distant drone of a cicada that had found its way into the attic, and the oppressive, heavy stillness of air that refused to move.
Will lay flat on his back, his limbs spread wide to catch any ghost of a breeze from the small oscillating fan on his desk, his skin feeling tacky against the polyester blend of his sheets. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, tracing the faint, glowing outlines of the stick-on stars he’d placed there years ago that were fading now
Tonight, his focus was tuned entirely into the rhythmic, tectonic rumble of Hopper’s snoring echoing from the master bedroom at the end of the hallway. It was a deep, grounding sound—the sound of a man who had spent the day policing the town—and next to him, his mom would be curled up, her breathing light and shallow, her sleep likely filled with the mundane worries of the general store. Will sat up, and the springs of his mattress gave a sharp, treacherous squeak that made him freeze, his heart leaping into his throat as he waited to see if the snoring stopped.
When the snoring continued, steady as a heartbeat, Will finally let out his breath. He dressed with the practiced, silent efficiency, pulling on a thin, striped shirt and reaching for his denim jacket. He didn't put his shoes on yet, carrying his beat-up sneakers by the laces as he crept past the refrigerator.
The kitchen held the ghostly remnants of the day: the sharp scent of the onions Joyce had chopped for dinner and the lingering, masculine musk of the tobacco Hopper used. Will reached the back door, gripping the handle with a white-knuckled intensity, lifting the door just a fraction to take the weight off the hinges before he turned the deadbolt. The lock gave a soft, oily snick, and he was out.
The night air hit him like a warm, wet blanket, smelling of honeysuckle and the damp earth of the woods. He didn't stop until he reached the end of the driveway, where he sat on the gravel to pull on his shoes, his fingers trembling as he tied the laces. Once he was upright, he broke into a quiet, determined jog toward the end of the road. There, tucked under the massive, drooping branches of an ancient silver maple, was the car.
The moonlight caught the chrome of the bumper, making it look like a predatory animal waiting in the shadows. Chance was leaning against the driver’s side door, his silhouette a sharp contrast of white cotton and dark denim, and as Will approached, he saw the cherry-red glow of a cigarette between Chance’s fingers.
"You're late, Byers," Chance whispered, the words vibrating in the humid air as a thin plume of grey smoke drifted upward, silvering in the moonlight. "I was starting to think you might've gotten caught."
"I almost did," Will breathed, stopping just inches from him. "The bed almost gave me away." The heat radiating off Chance was palpable, a furnace in the middle of the night.
Chance reached out, his fingers hooking under Will’s chin to tilt his head back. He still held the cigarette in his other hand, the smoke curling between them, adding a sharp, acrid bite to the smell of the woods. In the pale, silver light, Chance’s dark hazel-brown eyes looked like polished mahogany—deep, warm, and entirely focused. He leaned down, his lips brushing Will’s in a soft, lingering greeting that tasted of the smoke and the peppermint gum he was always chewing.
Chance pulled back just an inch, his eyes locked on Will's for a heartbeat longer before he finally dropped the cigarette and crushed it into the gravel with the heel of his boot.
"Let's go," Chance murmured against his mouth, his hand sliding from Will’s chin to the small of his back, guiding him toward the passenger side.
The door shut with a heavy, satisfying thud that seemed to seal them into their own private universe, the sudden enclosure cutting off the sounds of the Indiana night and replacing them with the intimate, confined hum of the cabin. Inside, the air was slightly cooler than the heavy humidity outside, smelling of old vinyl, gasoline, and the peppermint that seemed to follow Chance everywhere.
Chance reached for the dashboard and flipped a cassette into the player. There was a moment of mechanical whirring, the soft hiss of the tape head finding the start of the song, and then the haunting, crystalline synths of "Eternal Flame" by The Bangles began to bleed into the cabin.
"Really? The Bangles?" Will teased, leaning his head back against the seat and watching Chance’s profile in the dim light.
"It’s good Will. Don't be a music snob just because you spend all your time listening to The Cure," Chance retorted, though his voice was full of affection. He shifted the truck into gear, the engine letting out a low, throaty growl as they pulled away from the curb.
They navigated the winding backroads of Hawkins, the headlights cutting bright, yellow tunnels through the darkness while the woods on either side of the road were a blur of deep greens and blacks. With the windows rolled all the way down, the rush of the night air was a physical force, tangling Will’s hair and pulling the lingering heat of the house from his skin.
At a stop sign on an empty four-way intersection, Chance didn't immediately move, letting the truck idle as the vibration of the engine hummed through the floorboards. He reached across the seat, his hand sliding over the vinyl to find Will’s, their fingers interlacing naturally.
Chance turned his head, and for a long moment, they just looked at each other. The dashboard lights cast a soft, emerald glow over Chance’s features, and his dark hazel-brown eyes met Will’s hazel-green ones; the contrast was striking, as the green of Will’s eyes looked like moss in the shadows, deep and multifaceted. Chance leaned over the center console, his hand traveling up to cup Will’s cheek, pulling him into a firm, slow kiss.
"I missed you," Chance whispered when they finally broke apart.
"I saw you four hours ago," Will reminded him, his voice shaky.
"Four hours too long," Chance said, shifting back into gear.
They turned onto the dirt path that led toward Lovers Lake, the truck bouncing over the ruts and tree roots. The scent of pine and stagnant water grew stronger as they crested the final hill, and then the trees parted to reveal the lake, which was a sheet of hammered silver. The moon, nearly full and perched at the very top of the sky, reflected perfectly in the center of the water.
Chance killed the engine and the lights, plunging them into a world of blue shadows and white light. He didn't get out right away, turning in his seat again to reach for Will to pull him into another kiss. This was a slow, deliberate exploration, his hand traveling up into Will’s hair while his thumb grazed the shell of Will’s ear.
"You ready to get wet, Byers?" Chance whispered, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive rasp.
Will felt a spark of mischief flare up in his chest. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just a hair’s breadth from Chance’s.
"I don't know, Chance," Will whispered back, his eyes dancing with a playful light. "Usually you're the one who has to work a little harder to make that happen."
Chance froze for a split second, his eyes widening in surprise before a loud bark of a laugh broke from his throat. He shook his head, leaning his forehead against Will's.
"God, you're a menace. I'm trying to be romantic here and you're making jokes like that?"
Will giggled, the sound bright and clear in the quiet of the car. "You set yourself up for that one."
"I guess I did," Chance murmured, his grin widening as he pressed one more quick kiss to Will’s lips. "Come on, smart-ass. Let's get in the water before I change my mind."
Stepping out from the vinyl interior, the humidity of the night pressed against them once more as they moved to the side of the car. They stripped down with a quiet, practiced ease, their movements choreographed by the dozens of times they’d done this before. There was a comfortable lack of modesty between them, a familiarity born of long summer days and even longer nights where they had nothing to hide from one another.
Will tossed his striped shirt and denim jacket onto the passenger seat, his fingers working quickly to unbutton his jeans. He stepped out of them and his boxers in one fluid motion, adding the small pile to the seat. Standing in the tall grass completely naked, Will felt the cool night air raise goosebumps on his arms, the moonlight making his skin look pale and almost translucent against the dark backdrop of the woods.
Across the roof of the car, Will watched as Chance finished stripping down, his golden-brown skin glowing like polished bronze in the moonlight. Chance draped his own clothes over the driver's side headrest, the metal of the truck reflecting the silver light between them. Will started to turn toward the lake, but he stopped when he heard the crunch of gravel and the soft rustle of grass as Chance walked around the back of the car.
Will waited in anticipation for the sudden, grounding heat of Chance’s body as he stepped up directly behind him. Chance wrapped his arms around Will’s bare waist, pulling him back until he was flush against him. Without the barrier of clothes, Will could feel the entirety of Chance’s body pressing firmly into his back—the solid strength of his legs, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the radiating warmth that seemed to anchor Will to the spot.
One of Chance’s hands traveled upward, his fingertips tracing the smooth expanse of Will’s stomach before drifting higher to the center of his chest. The touch was light and deliberate, tracing the hollow of his ribs and the steady, frantic thrum of his heart. Will let out a small, contented hum, his breath hitching in his throat as he instinctively tilted his head back against Chance’s shoulder to give him better access.
Chance leaned down, leaving a trail of slow, lingering kisses along the side of Will’s neck. They were soft and warm, and Will’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned further into the embrace, feeling the physical weight of Chance’s affection.
"C'mon, mahal," Chance murmured against his skin, the Tagalog endearment vibrating softly against the sensitive column of Will’s throat.
Chance finally pulled back just enough to catch Will's hand, his fingers interlacing with Will's as he began to pull him toward the shoreline. They moved through the grass, two pale shadows against the dark earth, until their feet hit the damp sand of the beach.
"It's perfect, Will. It’s actually pretty warm," Chance said, his silhouette already halfway to his waist in the dark water.
Will followed behind him, the sand shifting between his toes and the water rising to his knees, then his thighs, feeling like a step into a dream. The temperature was surprising, a gentle contrast to the thick July air that made Will want to dive in and never come back up.
Suddenly, without any warning, Chance let go of Will’s hand, cupped his hands together, and sent a massive sheet of water directly into Will’s face.
Will gasped, the shock of it making him stumble back as he wiped the stinging lake water from his eyes. "Oh, you are so dead," he laughed, immediately lunging forward to return the favor.
They devolved into a chaotic, breathless war of splashing and chasing. Will tried to duck underwater to grab Chance’s ankles, but Chance was too fast, skipping backward with a loud, triumphant laugh that echoed off the dark tree line surrounding the lake. The water felt heavy and supportive, swirling around them in shimmering rings as they spun and splashed. Will finally managed to catch Chance by the shoulders, his damp skin slick under Will's palms, and they both tumbled backward into the deeper water.
They went under together, the world turning into a quiet, dark blue void of bubbles and muffled sound. Below the surface, the light of the moon was a fractured, dancing ceiling of white. Will felt Chance’s hands steadying him as they drifted for a few seconds in the weightless silence, the coolness of the lake seeping into their pores. When they surfaced, they were both gasping for air, their hair plastered to their foreheads in dark, messy clumps.
Chance reached out, his thumb gentle as he wiped a stray, stubborn drop of water from Will's eyelashes. He didn't pull his hand away immediately, his dark hazel-brown eyes searching Will's face with a sudden, quiet intensity that made the laughter die down in Will’s throat.
"You look—" Chance started, his voice a low rasp, but the rest of the thought was cut short as Will surged forward.
Will didn't wait for him to finish, closing the distance with a practiced confidence and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Chance’s lips. Even after months of this, he could still feel the sudden, sharp intake of breath Chance took against his mouth—that tiny, hitching sound of excitement and surprise that Chance always made when Will took charge.
Chance’s hands, which had been hovering near Will's face, immediately settled on Will's waist, pulling him closer as the cool water around them seemed to vanish, replaced by a deep, steady warmth. When they finally broke apart, Chance was wearing a look of stunned, genuine adoration, his chest heaving with a mix of exertion and something much more fragile.
"You look beautiful," Chance finally finished.
Will felt his face heat up. He looked down at the water, unable to maintain that level of eye contact for more than a second without feeling like he might actually float away. "Shut up," he muttered, though there was no bite in it. "I'm a mess."
"No," Chance said, cupping Will’s jaw to force him to look back up. He held Will’s gaze, his fingers tracing the line of Will’s ear, and in the pale light, his eyes were steady and unreadable. "You're beautiful."
The playfulness was gone now, replaced by a tension that felt thick and sweet, like the humidity before a storm. They stayed there for a long moment, just swaying together in the waist-deep water. Will could feel the steady, rapid thrum of Chance’s heart against his own ribs, a frantic rhythm that matched his own pulse. Chance moved his hands down to Will’s waist, his grip firm and certain as he pulled Will flush against him.
The movement brought them together, their wet chests meeting with a soft, watery thud that made every inch of Will’s skin hyper-aware of where it met Chance’s. Will reached up, his hands settling on Chance's shoulders to steady himself, his fingers digging slightly into the damp skin. Standing there in the water, they were perfectly eye-to-eye, the moon directly overhead casting a silver halo around them.
"I used to think that a night like this was something I'd only ever get to see in a movie or read about," Chance started, his thumbs tracing slow, nervous circles against the sides of Will's waist. He looked down for a second, watching the way the water rippled between them, before looking back up. His dark hazel-brown eyes started welling up with small tears, catching the moonlight in a way that made them look like liquid gold. "But it's not the setting or how romantic it is that makes this feel real. It's just… you. I think I've spent my whole life looking for something that makes sense, and that something is you, Will."
Chance took a shaky breath, his hands tightening on Will’s waist as if he were afraid the moment might dissolve if he let go.
"I... I love you, Will," Chance said, his voice cracking with emotion, the weight of the words finally breaking through his usual cool exterior.
The words were simple and honest, but carrying so much emotion at the same time. Will felt his own breath hitch as he looked into Chance's eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability there that mirrored exactly how he felt. He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.
"I love you too," Will whispered, the words feeling like the easiest thing he’d ever said. "I love you so much."
Chance let out a huffed, relieved laugh, a small sound of pure joy that vibrated through both of them. He tightened his grip on Will's waist, pulling him even closer until there wasn't a breath of space left between them, his fingers pressing into Will's damp skin with a desperate kind of certainty. He leaned in, closing the tiny gap between them, and pressed a kiss to Will’s lips.
The kiss was slow and heavy, a deep, rhythmic press of lips that felt like it was pulling the very air from Will’s lungs. With his hands on Chance’s shoulders, every shift in Chance’s movement was amplified; he could feel the corded muscle of Chance’s back beneath his palms and the steady, solid heat of Chance's chest against his own.
The water around them acted as a conductor, vibrating with every shared breath and every muffled sound that escaped between them. Will’s fingers drifted from Chance’s neck, his hands moving slowly to cup Chance’s face, feeling the radiating warmth of a pulse that was just as frantic as his own.
Will could feel the entire length of Chance’s body pressed firmly against his—the solid, submerged weight of Chance’s thighs and the unmistakable, heavy pressure of their lower bodies meeting beneath the surface. It was a dizzying, all-encompassing heat that made the cool lake water feel like it was miles away. Every time Chance shifted his weight to keep them steady in the silt, the friction of their skin against one another sent a fresh jolt through Will’s system, making him cling to Chance just a little tighter.
As they swayed, the moonlight seemed to liquefy on the surface of the water, and every tiny movement they made sent a fresh set of ripples outward—shimmering rings of silver that caught the lunar glow and threw it back against their skin. Chance groaned softly into the kiss, a low, vibrating sound that Will felt deep in his own throat, and his hands squeezed just a fraction tighter against Will’s waist, pulling him in as if trying to anchor them both to the spot.
"I can't believe this is real," Chance whispered, his voice thick and rough, his breath warm against Will’s lips. He pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against Will's as he looked into those hazel-green eyes. "I've wanted to tell you that for so long."
Will let out a shaky breath, his hands drifting from Chance's shoulders to cup his face, feeling the radiating heat and the dampness of the tears that had spilled over. "Me too," Will murmured, a slow, radiant smile breaking across his face that seemed to make the air around them feel lighter. "God, this just feels unreal. I... Chance, you make me so happy."
Chance felt his heart do a slow, heavy roll in his chest, that smile hitting him with more force than the confession itself. He looked like he was actually melting, his posture softening and his eyes growing even warmer as he looked at Will.
Before Will could say another word, Chance surged forward again, beginning to pepper Will’s face with a barrage of tiny, frantic pecks. He started at the corner of Will’s mouth, then moved to his chin, his nose, and the apple of his cheek, each kiss accompanied by a soft, wet sound. Will started to squirm in Chance's arms, his upper body arching back as the ticklish sensation of Chance’s damp hair and stubble grazed his skin. A small, bubbly giggle escaped him.
"Chance, stop," Will gasped, though he was already reaching out to pull Chance back in. "It tickles!"
"I don't think I can," Chance murmured against Will's cheekbone, moving his kisses to Will’s eyelids and then up to his forehead. "So you’re just gonna have to deal with it."
Will laughed harder now, a breathless, giddy sound that made his shoulders shake. Chance found the sensitive spot right behind Will’s ear, planting a loud, exaggerated smooch there. "Chance! At this point, Hopper’s gonna hear you if you keep making that much noise," Will said, his hazel-green eyes bright and watering from the force of his laughter.
Chance pulled back just an inch, grinning that effortless look while his dark hazel-brown eyes danced with mischief. "Let him hear," Chance teased, leaning in to press one more soft, slow kiss to the tip of Will’s nose. "Let the whole of Hawkins hear. I don't care."
Will finally quieted down, his breath coming in short, happy hitches as he reached up, his palms framing Chance’s face. He looked at the way the silver light reflected in those dark eyes, seeing a reflection of his own joy mirrored back at him.
"You're an idiot," Will whispered affectionately.
"Yeah, but I'm your idiot," Chance replied, his voice dropping back into that low, serious register. "I love you, Will. More than anything in this crappy town."
Will leaned in, his forehead coming to rest against Chance’s, and they just drifted there in the center of the silver abyss, two silhouettes lost in the middle of a dream that was finally, undeniably real as the ripples of the water slowly quieted around them.