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In which Will wins a years supply of lollipops - well... 52 boxes to be exact. And from the moment they are delivered to his and Mike's apartment, things start to.... Suck... for Mike.
Or
Will Byers has a fixation with putting things in his mouth and almost drives Mike completely insane in the process.
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Frat President Mike Wheeler and his secret boyfriend Will Byers (deemed the "chess club pixie" by all his friends) try their very hardest not to fuck in the middle of a party thrown by Delta Thi Sigma. They fail miserably.
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Vecna is defeated and the party is preparing for final exams. Will has a problem, he can’t seem to relax. He’s tried pretty much everything but he can’t let go. He talks to his friends about it and they all seem to have their own ways of coping. Still nothing is working, he wishes he was like any other teenage boy, wishes his trauma wouldn't get in the way of a very natural biological function. But he just can't seem to get Vecna's visions out of his head. Enter Mike.
Mike gives Will the massage of a lifetime.
(Characters are 18, everyone lived, the Duffer brothers are cowards and Divorce Gate is real)
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A polaroid lies face down, stark white against the carpet. Will crouches, breath already unsteady, and turns it over. His breath caught in his throat as the image came into focus, sending a jolt straight through him. Mike's jeans strained visibly against the thick bulge at his crotch, the denim stretched taut over an unmistakable erection.
Dear Will,
If you wanted to see me with a boner, you could've asked instead of drawing it.
Love, MikeOR
Will accidentally gifts Mike an erotic drawing of him, Mike returns the favor by sending him polaroid evidence of what his boners really look like.
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Holding Patterns by thecouchsofa
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
29 Nov 2025
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“Do you want to know how it feels?”
Shane let his hand fall back to the couch. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and lifted a brow at Rozanov. “What – holding the Cup? You’ve already made that joke once.”
“No.” Rozanov’s fingers encircled Shane’s wrist and then he was pulling Shane’s hand between his legs.
Or: Shane tops.