byler

Will stands by the railing, clasping his hands around it as if trying to shield himself from his own thoughts. He doesn't look at Mike, his gaze fixed on something empty. His voice is quiet, barely concealing the tremor.
Will: "I just... I was really afraid that after all this, after I... well, confessed everything, we wouldn't be able to communicate like we used to anymore."
Will finally turns to Mike, his eyes filled with vulnerability and fear of rejection. He takes a shaky breath, searching for words.
"Will: I was afraid we'd become strangers. Or that we were just... well, acquaintances. Or just friends."
He lowers his head, prepared to hear the worst, and smiles bitterly at his own thoughts.

Mike takes a step toward Will. His face, previously focused, softens. He shakes his head firmly, closing the distance between them so Will can be sure to hear him.
Mike: "Friends? No way."
Mike smiles warmly—that same genuine childhood smile that Will hasn't seen in a long time. He places his hand on Will's shoulder, forcing him to look up.
Mike: "Partners."
The tension in Will's shoulders eases, and he lets out a barely perceptible breath of surprise. Mike squeezes his shoulder lightly, looking into his eyes, which are filled with tears of joy.