Archive of Our Own

The black, pointed edge cracked and broke, dragged across the paper with a heavy touch, leaving a trail of dust in its wake and smear across Will’s skin, staining it. Will had never been able to master charcoal. It wasn't like he was terrible at it or anything, he just had a preference for ink or oil. Will brushed stray hair away from his face and tucked it behind an ear, leaving a dark smudge across his brow from the charcoal powder.

The advertising firm he worked for didn’t really allow him much room to stretch his creative muscles the way he liked, so on the weekends he worked on commissions for other students at his school. Lots of portraits for TTRPG players to staple to their character sheets. Mostly busts, done in charcoal, ten bucks a pop. It was easy money and Will enjoyed it now just as much as he had when he was a kid. Allowing people to have a custom, visual representation of their characters was fun and almost fulfilling in a way. His artistic skills and willingness to share it with others had earned him admiration and endearment at the local game shops. He even got invited to DM for Adventure League games every couple of weeks and it was a good way to not only find potential clients for character busts, but on occasion people would ask for more detailed pieces.

If someone really wanted it, Will would do full body pieces, full color, or an action scene. Those cost more of course but he wasn’t exactly making a profit from it. Most of the cost went back into supplies, paints, canvas, and the like. But he really enjoyed it and the shop owners liked to hang up the pieces and Will was proud of that. Any money left over was Will’s play money or went towards paying his tuition at community college.

Will shifted and took another sip of his coffee, leaving black smudges on his cup and chin. His apartment was small but comfortable. His kitchen acted as both a place to prepare meals and his work studio. Will had a few oil pieces laid out to dry on the counter and the dishes were piling up but it didn’t much matter. Will didn’t do a lot of cooking so the lost counter space wasn’t a big deal and he had all weekend to get the dishes clean and put away. The dried pieces of art that Will didn’t sell were scattered around the rest of the apartment, the only real decorations he had.

Will jumped, almost spilling his coffee on the half finished Ranger he’d been working on when there was a knock at the door. One of the only things Will hated about having a first floor unit was solicitors that came calling (could they interest him in some Tupperware? Information about their church and how he could find eternal salvation?). Will sighed and took a breath to blow the charcoal dust off the picture before lifting his pencil again. As he brought it down, the knock came again.

He hesitated, unsure. Did Will have a bill due that he’d forgotten? Was it the landlord finally sending someone by to repair the screen door like he’d said he would three weeks ago? Will stood up, pushing the chair back so he could maneuver around it to answer the door. When he pulled it open he paused, hand still gripping the handle as he looked at the young man standing at on the stoop.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m here on behalf of the Clinton campaign, canvassing door to door and I was wondering if I could interest you in some literature or information about our platform today? It will only take a moment of your time,” the man said, spouting off the practiced script with ease, keeping his brown eyes focused on his clipboard all the while. Will examined him, the curve of his lips, the slope of his straight, hooked nose, the dark out of control curls that spilled around the top of his shoulders, and the thick heavy lashes that obscured the deep brown Will knew his eyes were.

Will swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat as the man spoke again. This time he reached out, holding a pamphlet with Bill Clinton and Al Gore’s smiling faces on it, offering it to Will without looking up. Will extended his hand, thumb brushing the other man’s, who finally looked away from his clipboard for the first time since Will had opened the door.

“This is some great information you can really use to help make an informed decision during the general-” he trailed off, that store bought smile frozen as his eyes focused in on Will’s face.

Will swallowed again, letting his hand holding the pamphlet drop to his side as Mike did the same. For a long, uncomfortable moment, they looked at each other quietly. Mike’s smile faltered and he took a step back.

“Will,” he finally breathed, the smile back but unsure.

“Hey Mike,” Will said. “How have you been?”

“Ah, busy, you know,” Mike replied, lifting the clipboard, briefly flashing the addresses printed there. “You look good,” he added, tilting his head at Will.

The shorter man shifted, tucking his charcoal stained hands into his armpits to hide them, suddenly very aware of the fact that he was wearing the sweatsuit he’d slept in (despite it being June), covered in old paint stains. Had he even brushed his hair yet? He certainly hadn’t brushed his teeth. And shit, he knew he had charcoal dust on his face. Will felt a flush starting beneath his collar.

“You too,” he said, and that was true.

Mike was tall, slim but more filled out than he’d been at 17. His dark hair was longer than it had been but styled in that fashionable, grungy way. His skin was bright and warm, his freckles were darkened from his time in the sun and speckled his face like stars, (forming constellations on his skin, entire universes). He’d really grown into himself.

Will shuffled his feet.

“What, uh, what are you doing here?” he finally asked, trying to find a way to start a conversation after so long.

Mike held up the pamphlets, grinning. “Canvassing.”

“No, I mean, what are you doing here? In Richmond?”

“Oh, I’m a student at USI. You?”

Will felt the flush rise again. “Owensboro,” he replied hesitantly, not particularly proud of his school when compared to Mikes. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, but Will had been going there the past two years, having spent his first year out of high school working and could still only afford two, maybe three classes a semester (if he was lucky). Mike was probably close to graduating, his parents likely having footed the entire tuition bill so Mike could focus on his studies.

“That’s cool, man. We’re practically neighbors. Crazy we haven’t run into each other before now,” Mike commented, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Will averted his eyes. Not so crazy.

Richmond was a big place and Will had actively made an effort to avoid contact with the people left behind in Hawkins when Joyce moved him here. It just, it seemed like the best thing to do at the time. To throw away the radio, to not pick up the phone and call. Will had wanted to, it’s just, it was… complicated. Will had struggled enough with the ghosts of that place and it was just easier to repress his memories and feelings than to actually deal with them, make a fresh start. As far as Will had known, he’d left every painful (beautiful) memory in Hawkins. But here was Mike, one of the ghosts, manifested and taken form, on his doorstep.

“Hey, so, it’s been great seeing you again,” Mike said, interrupting Will’s train of thought. “But I have to go finish this,” he said, raising the clipboard and taking another small step backwards.

Will almost reached out but pulled up short.

“Hey, uh, do you want coffee?” he blurted out instead. “I have a fresh pot on-”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Mike cut him off.

Will’s heart dropped, settling into the pit of his stomach like a heavy stone. Of course Mike wanted to leave. Will had spent the last four years avoiding him, avoiding anything that had to do with Hawkins. He was so stupid, so so stupid to think Mike would want to talk to him now, to have coffee with him like nothing had ever happened, like Will hadn’t disappeared from his life, dropped him like he never existed in the first place. So fucking stupid.

"But uh, I should be done around three,” Mike finished. “I could swing by after? We could like, grab a drink or something to eat, catch up?”

Will lifted his eyes.

“Y-yeah, sure, I don’t have plans.”

“Cool dude. I’ll stop by around five? Gonna need to stop home and shower or whatever after being out here all day,” Mike said, that easy smile returning to his face. “I’ll pick you up?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Will replied eagerly, feeling his heart lift.

“Very cool. Hey, read that info I gave you over, okay? I’ll be back in a bit.”

Mike raised a hand on a half wave and turned to go. Will nodded and watched as the tall man trotted down the sidewalk to approach the next apartment unit. His practiced, store bought smile was back in place as he knocked on the next door.

Will stepped inside and shut his own, letting out a shaky breath. Had that actually just happened? Will looked down at the pamphlet. It was real enough, solid in his hands. Oh, they’re still covered in charcoal. Will walked down the narrow hall to his bathroom to wash his hands and cringed when he saw his reflection. There were dark smudges on his face too, standing out starkly against his pale skin, his unshaven face darkened with stubble. Perfect, just perfect. Christ, what the hell was wrong with him? No, he hadn’t brushed his hair either and it was a rumpled mess from sleep. Who the hell wears a full sweat suit in June, anyway? He looked like a wreck and Will was sure the broken screen door and his address hadn’t helped the image. Great first impression after years of radio silence on his end. He sighed, washing his face.

Mike was going to be back in six hours. At least that gave Will time to clean the apartment, and himself, up. He could try to make a better impression when Mike came back.

By three Will had cleaned every surface he could think of, including a much needed dusting of his windowsill and baseboards. By four, he was examining himself in the mirror, still foggy from the steam of his shower.

Well, he didn’t look homeless anymore. His shirt was loose fitting button up, purple and gold. A little faded maybe, but he'd managed to steam out the wrinkles by hanging it in the bathroom while he showered. He’d rolled the sleeves up, exposing his thin forearms. His slacks were khakis. Again, worn but well fitting. Will had even managed to get his fine, straight hair to feather a little with encouragement. He’d shaved, slapped on a little cologne and lightly scented aftershave. It wasn’t an awful look but not exactly show stopping either. Will hesitated a moment before slipping a vest on. Was that too much? No, he had to make up for this morning. Will checked himself over once more before deciding it was fine, he was fine.

By four thirty he began to worry. What if Mike wasn’t going to come back? He hadn’t given Will a phone number to contact him with. If he wanted to, Mike could make a clean escape from that awkward blast from the past. It had crossed Will’s mind that maybe Mike had told him he’d be back just so he could get away before Will had a chance to ask for his contact information. Maybe after four years of silence and total neglect on Will’s part, Mike wanted to forget the past and move on.

Will flushed when his thoughts drifted not only to their previous friendship but to… the other aspects of their relationship. Will had complicated it all, ruined it. It had been embarrassment (in part at least), that had made Will cut off communication. He thought back to those nights. How they had explored, touched, fucked, and held each other. It hadn’t been more than a week after the incident in high school that Joyce announced the move and less than a month after that she’d actually packed up and moved the family to Richmond. Will and Mike hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about what had happened, mostly because Will avoided the subject like the plague. Once he’d moved and shut off any means of contact for Mike, Will wouldn’t have been surprised if Mike returned the favor by not showing. Will probably wouldn’t have. He was the master of avoidance, of repression. Any uncomfortable feeling was pushed down and ignored, much like how he’d pushed down the loss of time he’d had when the Mind Flayer had started taking him over. Will really hadn’t learned anything, had he?

At four forty five, there was a knock. Will jumped from where he sat, wallowing in self doubt. He paused, straightening out his shirt before opening the door.

And there he was, Mike had come back. His mass or dark curls were unruly as ever. The jeans he wore were more form fitting than Will’s khakis, his faded jean jacket hung unzipped over the red and black flannel shirt he wore untucked. He was smiling and looking a little windswept, as if he’d driven the whole way with the windows down.

“Hey, sorry I’m early. I didn’t know how long it would take to get from my place here and if I got lost I wanted to give myself time to get reoriented.”

“Oh, no, you’re fine,” Will said, stepping out, cringing when he had to struggle to close the screen door all the way.

Mike turned, leading the way to his car, a 1987 Firebird. Of course he drives a Firebird. Nice car, newer model, and cool without being pretentious. Will cracked a smile when he saw that yeah, the windows were down.

They drove, enjoying the early summer air, Will not even minding that it ruined the effort he’d put into his hair. They ended up at a bar, some little hole in the wall Will never would have found on his own. They talked, and drank, trying to establish a repertuar. Will reminisced about the past, asked after Dustin, Lucas, and the others. Mike chatted about his friends, Nancy, and his volunteer work (apparently he spent a few months each summer working with disabled kids at an equestrian center, mostly mucking the stalls and helping the kids rub down the horses. Who Would have thought Mike would have a skill with animals and kids?).

Will picked at the hot wings, mostly listening. He tried to refuse when Mike ordered them double shots of Wild Turkey (but Mike was buying, besides, Will didn’t have to drive) and one double turned into two, just the way the beer that followed seemed to somehow change from a sixteen ounce to a twenty. Will finally felt himself relax into the buzz, feeling light and heavy all at the same time.

Mike was talking to him as if they’d never parted, like they’d just seen each other in school a few hours earlier. He touched Will’s arm when he told a joke, he laughed easily, and smiled often. Will was starting to forget why he’d put such an effort into avoiding Mike, even if he was a reminder of Hawkins (and other things). When their knees bumped under the table, Will felt a fire bloom in his belly. God, he’d missed this. Once the food was gone and the drinks turned to water, Mike settled back, stretching like an oversized cat.

“Hey, that coffee offer still on the table?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Will replied, reaching for his wallet.

Mike waved a hand dismissively and flagged down their waitress.

“One check, please,” he said, still smiling that big, toothy smile.

Will didn’t know if he should be grateful or embarrassed. Did Mike think Will couldn’t pay his share of the bill or was he just trying to be nice?

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Mike said, briefly placing his hand on the small or Will’s back to lead him to the car.

Will leaned into the touch, enjoying it. It had been a long time since someone had touched him in an intimate, familiar way. Mike must have mistaken it for hesitation because he paused, turning to Will.

“You okay? I’m fine to drive, honestly. You worried that I had too much?”

Will shook his head.

“It’s not that,” Will assured him. “Just, this is great. I, I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Mike grinned, letting his hand trail up Will’s back for a second before dropping it.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’ve missed this.”

The ride back to Will’s apartment was less subdued than the one leaving it. Music played on the radio, Mike singing along carelessly and loud. Will let his hand rest outside the window, making patterns in the air, the wind sweeping back his hair while he sang along under his breath. When they pulled into Will’s complex, the song hadn’t ended yet so they waited, letting the music trial off into silence.

That light, heavy feeling was still present, allowing Will to experience this with a kind of pink, fuzzy haze. He led Mike inside, watching the taller man step in while he kicked off his shoes, leaving them near the door.

“I’ll start the coffee,” Will chirped, moving away towards the kitchen so Mike could look round and settle in.

“You prefer dark or medium roast?” Will called, craning his neck to see Mike, standing at the bookshelf, a painted mini in his hand.

“Dark’s fine,” Mike replied, putting the mini down before picking up another. He turned it over in his hand, examining it, a small smile on his face. “Did you paint these? I thought I saw paint on your shirt earlier.”

Will flushed. Dammit, he knew Mike had noticed what a wreck he’d been that morning.

“Uh, yeah, in my spare time.”

“Very cool. You still play at all?”

“Eh, no, not really. I’ve DMed a few Oneshots but uh, no real campaigns,” Will explained with a shrug.

Mike stepped away from the bookshelf, his eyes turning to the various paintings that Will had filled his walls with. He paused in front of one depicting a purple robbed man, lightning flying from his fingers, darkness all around. Mike chuckled, motioning to it with his head.

“Will the Wise,” he commented, still looking at the painting.

Will froze, totally mortified. He’d been so busy cleaning, trying to not look like a crazy hermit that he’d forgotten his home decor made him look like a total geek. He gritted his teeth and pressed the switch on the coffee pot, turning it on. Will pulled two mugs from his cupboard, making sure they were as nondescript as possible (now was not the time for Cthulhu or Star Trek) and forced out a laugh.

“Ha, yeah, it was a school project and I got a good grade and the place needed decorations,” he tried, hoping he sounded convincing.

He pulled milk from the refrigerator and sugar from the lazy sue, setting them on the counter next to the cups.

Mike nodded, letting his eyes wander to other, no less incriminating paintings. An elf Cleric resurrecting fallen adventurers, a dwarven fighter whose armor was melting from a Mimic’s acid attack, and a particularly epic piece of a Beholder. What was the likelihood Mike would believe they were all school projects?

“Coffee’s ready,” Will called, hoping to draw Mike away from his art and into the kitchen.

Mike came, eyes scanning the new environment with interest. He took the cup Will offered while looking over the drying paintings on the counter. Oh great. Even in here there were clear testaments to Will’s geeky hobbies. Will grimaced, watching Mike take it all in.

“You’re still drawing a lot, huh?” Mike asked, pouring the milk into his cup until the contents were the same light shade as Will’s eyes.

“Uh, yeah, a little. It’s dumb, it’s just-”

“-It’s awesome. You always had a talent,” Mike interrupted, drawing the steaming mug to his lips for a long drink.

Will felt warm at the compliment and looked away, flustered.

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly.

Will leaned against the counter, nursing his own drink and watching Mike’s long fingers cupping his mug. He didn’t know what to say exactly, so he took another sip. Will glanced up as Mike approached, staying motionless as the taller man encroached on his space. His breath hitched as Mike reached out… and past him for the sugar bowl. Mike was so near him now, his freckled nose mere inches from Will’s ear as he worked on portioning out his sugar. Their shoulders brushed as Mike stirred the granules into his drink.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Will reached out, grasping Mike by the elbow and holding him in this position. He felt a warm breath against his face and let his eyes drift close. Mike hadn’t tried to detach himself from Will’s grip, instead remaining still, his breath tickling the hair near Will’s ear. They stayed that way, motionless, bodies near but not touching. After what seemed like an eternity, Mike let out a sigh.

“Will, I wanna kiss you.”

Will shuddered, his loose hold on Mike’s elbow tightening. He sucked in a small breath, eyes still shut.

“Is that okay,” Mike asked, cautiously, like Will was a wild animal that might spook and run if he moved too fast. “Can I kiss you?”

Will nodded. Yeah, that would be more than okay.

He felt Mike shift and then a warm, gentle pressure on his mouth. Will whimpered, releasing the small sound that had been trying to free itself since the moment Mike had leaned over him to reach for the sugar. He parted his lips, inviting Mike in, tugging at the denim on his arm, pulling him closer until their noses bumped. Mike’s tongue slipped in, still tentative, as if he was afraid Will might still bolt. Will opened for him, drawing Mike in to the kiss, escalating the contact.

Oh god, Mike was kissing him and Will was kissing him back, sucking Mike’s full, lower lip into his mouth, his teeth grazing against it, wanting to bite. Mike groaned, shifting himself closer and gripping Will’s arms, holding him firmly. He moved his hips, grinding against Will’s stomach as their kiss deepend. Will felt his toes curl with desire and he let out another helpless whine. Mike drew away, leaving Will breathless and needy.

“Christ, Will, I want to touch you,” he said through gritted teeth, head bowed as he restrained himself.

“I want you to,” Will said, voice low and hoarse with just how much he wanted Mike to touch him.

Mike made a low noise, almost a growl at that. Will shivered at that primal sound and bucked into Mike’s thigh, grinding his growing erection into the taller man. At that press, Mike’s hands lowered, moving from Will’s arms to his hips, squeezing him and holding Will’s body in place, keeping his erection pressed against Mike’s thigh. Will tried to buck against him again, but Mike’s hands were big and he was strong. Will wanted that friction, but the best he could do was wiggle and squirm while Mike started rolling his own hips in languid, controlled motions. Mike raised his head, catching Will in another kiss as he dug his denim covered cock into Will’s stomach, drawing small sounds from both of them.

Will wanted to cry out, to beg for more, but he couldn’t with his mouth on Mike’s, the taste of coffee and booze clinging to them both. He settled for moving his hands beneath Mike’s jacket, burying his fingers in the flannel shirt that covered those broad, well muscled shoulders. Mike pulled Will closer, until their bodies were flush, chest to chest, leg to leg, and ate at his mouth as if it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Will lifted a leg, hooking it around Mike's.

That seemed to encourage Mike, embolden him. He moved his hands from Will’s waist to his thighs, curling underneath them and lifted him. Will clung to Mike’s shoulders, breath coming heavy as Mike settled the smaller man on the counter, making their heights almost equal.

Will pulled back, looking eye to eye with Mike for the first time since the dark haired man had hit a growth spurt in third grade. Will stayed there, just examining him. His features were sharper, more defined. A little wider in the jaw, his cheeks more prominent. Mike waited, patient, breath controlled until Will slid his hands up and gently pushed at the jean jacket, trying to remove it.

The freckled man helped, wriggling his arms until they slipped free and the jacket fell to the floor. He relaxed into the feeling of Will stroking over his shoulders, up and down his arms. Slowly he raised his own hands, drawing them up over Will’s flanks, over the material of his striped shirt. Will leaned forward, closing the distance between them and drawing Mike’s lips to his again. The kiss was gentle, unhurried, and Mike’s hands roamed over Will’s sides, tickling him, until they slipped between their bodies, hesitating at the buttons of Will’s shirt.

“I want to look at you, Will. Is that okay?” he asked, forehead pressing lightly to Will’s own brow.

Will nodded, hair brushing Mike’s.

“Would that turn you on?” Mike asked, nuzzling against Will’s neck.

Will hesitated. He’d never been particularly comfortable in his own skin. He wasn’t sure he wanted Mike to examine him like that, so exposed.

“I-I don’t know.”

Mike stopped, pulling back a little. Will hated that so he pulled harder on Mike’s shoulders, halting the movement.

“I wanna turn you on, what can I do?” Mike asked, pressing his face back into Will’s shoulder.

“Can… can you go first?” Will asked, voice small, embarrassed.

“Yeah, of course,” Mike agreed, pulling back and detaching himself from Will’s grip.

After taking a step back, he easily pulled the loose flannel shirt off, exposing his narrow waist, his wide chest, and the smattering of freckles there. Will inhaled a breath and held it. Mike had grown up. He had tattoos and muscles that rippled as he shrugged the shirt off, letting it fall to the floor with his jacket. He stood there, waiting, letting Will look him over. The tattoos were scattered, a sugar skull here, a pinup there, a pineapple? And was that…

Will let out an unexpected laugh, startling Mike.

“I-is that a D20?” he asked, still chuckling.

Mike glanced down at his waist where the top of a tattoo peaked out from the hem of his jeans. He reached down, tugging at the material to lower it and expose what was an undeniable D20, the 20 facing up and the words ‘Critical Hit’ inked beneath. Will laughed again, sudden relief flooding him. Yeah, he was a nerd with his minis and paintings but Mike wasn’t in any position to judge with that ‘Critical Hit’ tattooed right next to his groin.

“You, you’re such a dork!” Will chortled, sitting back, mirth coloring his face.

Mike cracked a grin and stepped forward, capturing Will’s smiling mouth in a playful kiss.

“Your turn, Will the Wise,” he teased, nipping Will’s ear.

Will leaned back, letting Mike reach for the buttons of his shirt, popping them open with ease. In one smooth motion, Mike pushed both the shirt and vest from Will’s body, letting them pool around Will’s hands on the counter next to the forgotten coffees. Once free of it, Will averted his eyes, still slightly self conscious. Mike inhaled and dipped his head, kissing Will just beneath his sternum where a mole decorated the skin. Will groaned and leaned into the touch, entangling his fingers in Mike’s dark curls, holding the other man there, pressed to his chest. Mike kissed him again, teeth grazing skin before he wrapped his hands under Will’s thighs, under his buttocks, and hoisted him up off the counter.

Will instinctively wrapped his arms tighter around Mike’s neck, elbows resting on his shoulders while Will’s legs encased the freckled man’s narrow waist like a vice. Held up like this, Will could have rested his chin on the top of Mike’s head, nestled into those soft curls like a pillow. His stomach, chest, arms, it all burned from where his bare skin touched Mike’s. Mike took a step back, mouth still worrying at the place on Will’s chest he’d been kissing and licking when he lifted the smaller man. He carried Will through the kitchen and into the living room.

Will had known Mike was strong but he was carrying Will like his 150 plus pounds meant nothing, barely even an afterthought. Will gripped him tighter, lowered his head and whispered,

“Down the hall, on the right.”

Mike growled and placed a gentle bite on Will’s skinny ribs. As he walked, face buried in Will’s flesh, he bumped into a wall while navigating blind into the bedroom, refusing to lift his face from Will’s body to look around and guide himself. Once inside, he bent at the waist to lay Will down on the bed, spreading him out with his legs hanging off. Mike took a step back and looked down at Will who waited, anxiety and excitement making his heart pound against his ribs like a bird’s wings against the bars of a cage.

After a moment of looking, Mike stepped forward, positioning himself between Will’s parted legs and rested his hands there. Will shuddered, bucking slightly at the contact.

“Goddamn Will, you’re so sexy,” Mike groaned, tracing circles into Will’s thighs. “Tell me what you want. I wanna make you feel good, but you’ve gotta tell me what you want.”

Will jerked his hips up, cock twitching with anticipation. What did he want? Will wanted everything. He wanted everything Mike could offer and then more. It was a selfish, greedy need, a longing he’d been harboring for nearly a fucking decade. The brief tastes he’d gotten before hadn’t been enough, not by half. He wanted all of Mike, had wanted all of him for so long that Will didn’t even know how to express it with words. He wiggled, hoping that was enough indication for Mike that he was giving permission.

Mike only kept massaging Will’s thighs, waiting patiently for the go ahead.

Will wet his lips, clearing his throat as he struggled to form words for his desires.

“I want this,” he finally whispered awkwardly. “I want you,” he tried again, uncomfortable with having to say it out loud, that secret he’d been harboring since before he even knew what it was.

All his life Will had been passive. The passive friend, the passive sexual partner. He liked to give, to make people happy. He wasn’t used to asking for things in return, especially not something that he’d held so close to the chest, had kept repressed for so long.

Mike leaned forward, draping himself over Will’s prone form like a living security blanket. He kissed Will’s collar, licked his way down that thin chest, towards his navel, and lower. Will felt a tremor start up, making him quiver as he watched Mike raise his hands to Will’s khakis, popping the button open. He willed himself to relax into the touch as Mike pulled the zipper and eased the pants down past his thighs, his knees, over the calves and off his ankles. Mike slipped one of Will’s socks off, then the other. In his crouched position he gripped Will’s ankles as if he was testing the hold on them. When he let go, Mike slipped his own jeans and briefs off and dropped to his knees again. Will held his breath, the front of his boxers quickly dampening from his leaking precum.

It was taking all his willpower to not unceremoniously pull them off and take himself in hand. Instead, Will concentrated on looking at Mike who was still kneeling next to the bed. From this vantage point, Will couldn’t see him well, but he could see the motion of Mike’s arm, the flexing of his shoulder that told Will he was stroking himself. After a few slow pumps, Mike released himself and gripped the elastic of Will’s boxers, pausing again.

“Make sure you tell me if you want me to stop,” Mike said before pulling the material down, freeing Will’s straining member.

Mike made an appreciative sound as he looked at Will who was squirming slightly, wanting to be touched. Slowly, he raised his hand and wrapped those long, delicate fingers around Will, pulling back his foreskin in a gliding motion and exposing the rest of him.

Will hissed at the feel of the solid pressure of Mike’s hand, the glide and slip of his skin being retracted. Mike held him firmly at the base for a moment, coaxing another bead of pre out of Will who gripped the comforter and let out a small whine, shifting his hips up, pleading for Mike to continue. Mike obliged him, stroking up and back down with steady, controlled movements.

“Lay back, relax, this is all about you,” Mike uttered, using his free hand to lift Will’s legs until they rested on Mike’s shoulders, Will’s heels pressed firmly into that broad, muscular back. “Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he reiterated before continuing. “I’m gonna make you feel good, Will. Wanna make you feel so good,” Mike breathed, stroking Will’s weeping dick with intent.

Will nodded, knowing Mike preferred verbal cues but hoping he would accept this instead.

Mike did and kept stroking Will with an even, steady, measured rhythm, drawing heavy breaths and shaky sighs from the other man. With his legs hitched over Mike’s shoulders, Will could feel Mike stoke himself in time. This was so erotic, so intense, Will felt his toes curl again.

Will nearly choked when he felt wet warmth encompass him, drawing him in, into Mike’s mouth as the dark haired man’s hand held his base. Jesus Christ, was Mike actually doing that? Will propped himself up on his elbows, desperate for his eyes to confirm what his body felt.

Yes, there it was, the scene that Will had been picturing for years. Mike on his knees, Will’s legs wrapped around his neck, Mike’s head dipped and raised, his tongue running across the underside of Will’s shaft, teasing the sensitive and engorged head. Mike swirled his tongue across Will’s slit and even though he didn’t mean to, Will felt his thighs tighten their hold on Mike, squeezing him gently but forcefully as the other man worked.

When Will squeezed, he felt Mike moan and saw him open his eyes. Will watched as Mike looked up the length of his body, meeting his eyes. Holy fucking shit, Mike was watching Will while blowing him. Will convulsed, still clutching the comforter in his hands just to keep his nails from digging his nails into his own flesh. Will felt Mike shift, using the hand he’d been stroking himself with to do something Will couldn’t see. Will jerked, surprised when he felt a slicked finger start pressing at his entrance.

Mike pulled himself off Will so he could speak.

“Is this okay?” he asked, still massaging and jerking Will.

“Y-yeah,” Will gasped, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the blanket.

“Tell me if you want this, Will. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want,” he said, kissing the dip of Will’s hip.

Will took a moment to collect himself before answering. He gave a meaningful squeeze with his thighs and nodded.

“I do, Mike. Christ, I want you, I want you,” he begged, voice small. “Please,” he added.

Mike was more than happy to comply, quickly ducking his head to take Will into his mouth again, giving an enthusiastic suck and swirl of the tongue while staring up at Will, watching the way the other man reacted. For his part, Will threw his head back, gasping and writhing as Mike pressed one slicked finger inside him.

Will hadn’t exactly prepped himself when he showered earlier that day, but he hadn’t exactly not prepped either. It’s not that he’d expected to end up in this situation after half a conversation with a friend he hadn’t seen in years… it’s just that seeing Mike again had caused those memories to resurface and Will’s hands had wandered. So even though Will hadn’t expected his night to end like this, Will was grateful he’d taken that extra time in the shower.

Mike’s hand working inside him and his mouth made Will move unintentionally. Every movement of Mike’s hand, every lick, every graze of the teeth against him made Will writhe with pleasure. Mike had added a second finger now and was using them to scissor Will open, to loosen him. When Mike curled his fingers Will cried out, pressing down against Mike, begging him for more, more of anything he was willing to give. Suddenly Mike dipped his head low, drawing Will totally into his mouth, into his throat, and fucking swallowed.

Will almost wept at the feeling, tears actually forming in his eyes and then Mike added a third finger and hooked them and that was it. He didn’t even have time to warn Mike, all he could do was cry out, covering his mouth with one hand and spasm.

Will had expected Mike to pull away, to sputter from the sudden release but he didn’t. Instead, he swallowed again and again, milking Will dry even as he continued to thrust his fingers inside of Will. It was too much, just this side of pain. Will was overstimulated and twitching, helpless beneath Mike’s ministrations. Once Will was spent, a quivering mess, tears still clinging to his lashes, Mike withdrew his hand and mouth. Will blinked down at him, flushed and sweating.

“Shit Mike, I’m sorry,” he gasped, apologizing for cumming in the other’s mouth.

To Will’s surprise, Mike grinned and kissed his inner thigh.

“Jesus Will, you’re so hot. I love making you feel good. You look so good like this,” he sighed, nuzzling the still shaking leg that rested heavily on his shoulder.

Will didn’t know he could blush any deeper than he already did, but somehow he managed. Mike chuckled and kissed him again before rising from his knees and crawling forward to drape himself over Will again. Will raised his legs, hooking them around Mike’s waist and drawing them closer together. Will could feel Mike, hard and hot against him as the taller man bent to press their foreheads together.

“So goddamn pretty,” Mike whispered, more to himself than to Will.

Will squeezed Mike’s waist, drawing attention back to the heat between them.

Mike glanced up.

“I want you to fuck me,” Will blurted out, his spent member already twitching again, trying to get back to attention.

“Fuck, Will,” Mike groaned, rolling his hips. “Fuck, are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Will assured. “I’m so fucking sure,” he said, lifting his hips adrendtly.

“Jesus, fuck, okay,” Mike whispered. “I’ve got a condom, just hang tight,” he explained, withdrawing from the embrace and rolling off the bed to where he’d been perched moments before.

He struggled with something on the floor and when he emerged, his hands were on his cock, coating the now covered appendage with lube. Will welcomed him back, spreading his legs. Above him, Mike held himself in hand. Will shifted, lifting his hips and allowing his friend better access. He felt Mike line himself up, and felt the shudder that passed through the taller man as he pressed against the entrance to Will’s body.

“Shit, Will, are you sure?” he asked again, biting his lower lip with his teeth.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Will said, pressing against the other man and impaling himself on Mike who let out a high, needy moan.

“Ah, fuck,” Mike muttered, letting Will take the lead, letting him push himself onto Mike until the other man was fully sheathed within him.

Will spasmed at the feel and gripped Mike’s biceps, letting out a breath.

“You okay?” Mike asked, letting himself stay seated fully within Will but not withdrawing.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Will responded, grateful for a moment to adjust to the full feeling.

Mike pulled out and looked down at Will who was still flushed and yielding.

“I wanna wreck you, Will Byers,” he groaned, eyes fluttering shut.

Will thrust his hips up in response, begging Mike to do it. The tattooed man thrust forward in response, forcefully but not roughly. He was demonstrating an amazing amount of self control, using deep, steady thrusts to loosen Will beneath him. The dark eyed man was using every inch of himself to explore Will’s body. His hands touched hair, his lips skin. Will was whimpering with every thrust, Mike echoing back low keening sounds.

It was everything Will had imagined, the feeling of Mike moving within him, the muscles of Mike’s arms flexing as Will dug his fingers in, holding tight. Between their bodies Will’s wilted dick was coming back to life, hard and excited. The friction of being rubbed between their bodies was making Will cry out as surely as the feeling of Mike moving inside him.

When Mike pulled back, raising himself to his knees, he pulled Will with him. He drew Will’s ass and hips up at an angle so he could move and look down at Will at the same time. It felt amazing. Not just the sex, but the way Mike moved Will with such ease. There was something very powerful and freeing about giving up the power, of having someone who could move him so easily, who had the sheer strength to do that, use it. But Mike was always careful, sure to never be too rough. Based on earlier examples Will reasoned that Mike could have easily snapped his hips forward in such a way that he could split Will upon him like a log, leaving him shaken and bruised. But he didn’t, he used that strength to move Will, but not force him. The ripple of muscles beneath his skin could have absolutely delivered on the power they promised.

Will shuddered at the thought and let his hand drop to his dick, stroking it despite its heightened state of sensitivity.

“Fucking Christ,” Mike grunted out. “Will, my god, that is so unbelievably sexy. I wanna watch you, just like this. I wanna watch you come on my cock,” he babbled out, increasing his speed but losing some of his tempo. “Touch yourself, Will. I want to see you,” he gasped, tightening his hold on Will’s hips.

Will complied, one hand working himself, the other holding desperately to one of Mike’s wrist. He helped guide Mike, adjusting the position just so, until Mike hit that bundle of nerves again and Will saw stars. White dancing lights clouded his vision and every movement made him thrash and squirm. How was he this close again already? Will didn’t know but that burning, tight feeling was building low in his stomach and the base of his spine, threatening to spill over.

“Will, you’re amazing, you’re so fucking amazing,” Mike gasped and moaned, placing one of his hands flat against Will’s chest, spreading his fingers wide.

Will pressed into that touch. It felt like a collapsing star, burning him without leaving a mark. Will rolled his shoulders, trying to use his elbows to press himself into a seated position without releasing himself or Mike but it was a struggle. Mike saw Will’s attempt and maneuvered his hands up Will’s sides, lifting Will again, pulling him up as Mike shifted his own position to a kneeling one. When he did, he slipped free from Will’s body and Will almost wept at the loss.

Following Mike’s lead, Will straddled the taller man’s thighs and kept himself in a raised position despite the shaking that threatened to make him collapse from exhaustion. Mike realigned himself and Will lowered down onto him, causing Mike to hum and gasp at the contact. They took a moment to adjust to the new position of sitting up, Will straddling Mike while Mike bore the brunt of both their weight.

Slowly Mike started to move himself again and Will with him. Will used what strength he had left to ride his friend, wrapping his arms around Mike’s neck and lacing his fingers in that mass of dark curls, like a crown. Mike bent his own head forward, letting his brow touch Wills, their mouths so close that their breath mingled and he used one long arm to wrap around Will holding him close while they moved.

Mike felt so big in Will, filling him and stroking that sweet spot over and over in one continued motion. Will didn’t know if he could handle much more and he pressed himself as close to Mike as he could while that feeling in his spine rose. Will buried his face in the crook of Mike’s shoulder, his hands still tangled in that wild, dark mane of curls.

“Mike, I missed you,” he whispered, nose burning, eyes watering.

“God, I missed you too,” Mike grunted, thrusting up into the smaller man. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again, ever hold you again.”

Will cried out, almost a sob as Mike bore into him and then that building pressure erupted, leaving Will a weak and quivering mess as his release coated both his stomach and Mike’s.

When he felt that hot release, felt Will’s stuttering movements and body constricting, Mike kissed Will’s temple and pulled him down hard and firm. Mike’s hips rolled beneath Will and he felt a steady pulsing deep in his body. Will heard sounds, soft, low mewling next to his ear as Mike released. But he heard other sounds too. Choking, broken sounds were echoing through the room and Will realized, to his horror, it was coming from him.

He was crying. Hot tears were mixing with Mike’s sweat where Will had buried his face and a high, fractured sound kept leaving his mouth and Will couldn’t stop it. What the hell was wrong with him? Will couldn’t catch his breath, he was hyperventilating and clinging to Mike who gripped him tighter while he made those ugly, pathetic sounds and tears spilled freely from his eyes.

“Hey, hey, you okay?” Mike asked, trying to pull away to look at Will only to be halted by the smaller man tightening his stranglehold on Mike’s shoulders.

Will couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, and he didn’t want Mike to see him red faced and blotchy. His whole body felt hot, like he was burning.

“Will, hey, look at me,” Mike coaxed, trying to pull away again.

Will shook his head furiously, clinging tight so Mike couldn’t move. Will still couldn’t breathe and those horrible sounds were still echoing through the room. All Will could do was hold tight and try to ride out the storm that washed over him in a flood of emotion and tears. Mike relaxed his effort to try and pull away, opting instead to lean into the embrace. He used his hands to massage circles into Will’s back as the other man wept openly. He kissed Will’s hair, muttering softly to him in soothing tones.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you. I've got you, Will. You’re okay.”

Will didn’t know how long he stayed that way, sobbing into Mike’s shoulder and he didn’t care. He’d been alone, so alone for so long and Mike was here and he was holding Will tight, his body so hot he was burning away all the cold and loneliness Will harbored. Will didn’t know how long it took, but eventually the sobs subsided to small hiccups and Mike was able to withdraw, leaning back to look at him. He pushed Will’s hair away from his damp, tear stained face and looked him over. Mike didn’t speak and Will was too embarrassed to even meet his eyes. When Will tried to pull away, it was Mike’s turn to halt him.

“Are you okay?” Mike asked cautiously, still pushing loose strands of hair behind Will’s ears, stroking his face.

Will nodded, eyes still averted as he swallowed down the tears that tried weakly to escape once again. Mike leaned forward and kissed Will’s forehead, still working steady circles in Will’s back with his hand. Will hiccuped one more time before looking up.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, voice breaking from shame.

“Don’t be. I’ve got you, I’ve always got you,” Mike replied, kissing him again.

“Will you stay?” Will asked suddenly, desperate and not wanting to be alone.

He couldn’t believe that this was how he was acting after so long. Crying and begging Mike to stay was pathetic and unearned after four years apart, Will knew that. He was definitely going to chase Mike away like this and Will couldn’t bear that thought.

Mike smiled, cupping Will’s face and forcing him to look up.

“Hey, I was never the one who left,” he said softly. “I… I love you, Will,” Mike whispered, barely audible.

Will froze, not trusting his ears. Did, did Mike say that he loved him? Will let out another shaky sob, falling heavily into the embrace, letting Mike encircle him with his long arms and pull him tight. Will let Mike take all of his weight, all of his pain, all of Will, and melted into him. Will pressed his ear to Mike’s chest, listening to the steady pulsing beat. He closed his eyes, feeling light, like some invisible chain or had been unlocked, freeing him. Had Mike held the key, or had Will owned it the whole time, leaving it forgotten in some dark, dust filled cupboard all these years? Will didn’t know, but either way, he was warm. Not even the cold, heavy mass of writhing tendrils seemed to be curled deep inside anymore. After a long moment, Will looked up at Mike.

“You’ll stay?” he asked again, wanting confirmation.

“Of course. As long as you want me to.”

Will fell forward again, resting his head on the shoulder he’d used to cry on. He breathed in deep, the smell of Mike’s sweat, his aftershave, and closed his eyes.

“I love you Mike Wheeler,” he breathed, burying his nose in the soft nest of curls and Mike tightened his hold on Will when he heard that.

This felt good. This felt like home.