Archive of Our Own

The Wheeler family’s kitchen is a whirlpool of organized chaos.

It’s Thanksgiving afternoon, and each family member is dutifully doing their part in the last-minute final preparations before departing to the Byers’ house for dinner. Since Nancy and Jonathan started officially dating not long after Halloween night, Ms. Wheeler made it a priority to get along with Ms. Byers. Considering how Nancy hasn’t had a boyfriend since she was fourteen, and to Karen Wheeler, Nancy having a boyfriend once again is a momentous event. Nancy and Steve only dated for a few months and he was a complete douchebag, turning her off all men. She turned all her focus to her studies and friends—until now. Naturally, all of the Wheelers wonder what it is about Jonathan that makes him different—Mike always found him strange, and still doesn’t see the appeal.

So far, Mike has heard from his mother that she and Joyce have seen each other a few times in town. The brief interactions that Karen optimistically recounted to Mike asserted that they got along well while getting to know each other. Karen was even able to rope Joyce into getting coffee together one morning in which they gossiped about their children, particularly their eldests. Mike nodded along to his mother’s enthusiastic retelling, willing to endure the boring details of what a model housewife finds interesting to please her.

The next time Karen mentioned Joyce Byers to Mike and the rest of the family, it was to announce that they would be sharing Thanksgiving dinner together on the day itself. It was on one of these shopping trip run-ins that Karen had brought it up with her. Mike secretly thinks that his mom might just be stalking Joyce, for how often she tends to casually “run in” to her. Mike chuckles along to this thought. Everyone has a hobby, he supposes. Initially, she invited all three Byers to their own house for Thanksgiving dinner—but Joyce had flipped it on her and had insisted that she host herself, stating she had a new method for cooking turkey she wanted to take a crack at. Karen looked slightly pained as she recounted it. Mike stifled an amused grin. It was written all over the diminished curve of her lips; shocked, scrunched brow; and twitching, smiling cheek that it hurt her soul on a deep level. Karen took pride in cooking a turkey, and having the tradition lowered to what sounded akin to a DIY craft was unspeakable. But, to Mike’s surprise, she conceded. If that is what it takes to get to know the mother of her daughter’s boyfriend, to have the two families acquainted on good terms, then she would sacrifice her pride. Mike was nearly touched by her selfless display.

Mike hasn’t ever liked Thanksgiving all that much. It’s too performative, and the amount of food they are meant to inhale while roleplaying happy, nuclear family is repulsive. Currently, Mike is half-heartedly chucking the rest of the chopped herbs into potato salad. Like his sisters, he was begrudgingly roped into helping in the kitchen to finish food prep in time. While Joyce is handling the turkey, cranberry sauce, and gravy, Karen insisted she herself handle the other side dishes, leading to her whipping up garlic and herb potato salad, glazed roasted squash and Brussel sprouts, savory cornbread, tossed couscous salad, and fluffy browned dinner rolls. Mike eyes it with concealed disdain. It’s a feast—and entirely too much for eight people. Both families will have left overs for days.

But besides the huge amount of food, besides the performative get together, Mike is still raring to go. He’s been counting down the days ever since the announcement. Nancy may be excited to see Jonathan, and Karen may be frothing at the mouth to make the best impression possible in front of Joyce and the Byers, but Mike doesn’t care about either of those things.

He only cares about seeing Will again.

Will. Mike exhales, soft and wistful. Will’s never really left his mind, always orbiting around the edges before racing to the forefront as Mike was reminded of him. He was reminded of Will by so much since their meeting a month ago. Their one passionate experience. Mike feels a little like he’s going crazy. It’s like alongside food and water and shelter, being in Will’s presence has become a basic need. Will is a drug he needs to survive, and without him, he’s been going through withdrawals. Mike never understood the feelings his friends talked about when they described the girls they liked, and then how they (especially Dustin) took to waxing poetic about their appearance, their personalities, how cute and soft they were. Mike understood lust—that part of attraction, while initially concerning, isn’t foreign to him.

But love?

It’s a whole new playing field.

In all things short, Mike has a crush. A very strong crush, he’ll admit. Mike’s only just met Will, only been with him once for one spectacular night, the best of his life. He knows it’s too early to tell, to actually know he loves Will.

But Mike’s more than a little obsessed with seeing him again.

Losing his virginity with Will has been the star of his dreams. For the first week after, he woke up to wet boxers every night without fail. It was like he was fourteen all over again. The flush of Will’s cheeks, all the soft moans and whimpers Mike rung out of this pretty mouth with his exploratory touches, the feeling of being inside Will, his cock wrapped up in his tight heat. It never failed to make Mike blush. He’s jerked off to the memory of it shamelessly every day (admittedly, sometimes two, even three times in a day), then added onto it with fantasies of everything they could do next. There were so many ways he could take Will, and he wanted to try them all.

While Mike finds Will incredibly physically attractive, and the sex was amazing—life-changing, even—and that he fantasizes about stroking his hands down Will’s side, fondling his pink nipples and groping his small round ass, touching him in his most sensitive places until he’s shaking and coming undone under Mike’s skilled hands—Mike also just likes Will as Will. He’s genuinely one of the sweetest people he’s met. Mike’s caught himself wearing a goofy grin more times than he can count recalling Will’s laugh and shy yet playful demeanour. Mike wants nothing more than to bask in Will’s presence like a lizard under a heating lamp, or to wrap around his body like a snake. Mike would hug him so tight and tickle him with his flicking tongue until Will’s precious giggle bubbled out.

There was one issue, however. Mike had no idea how he was going to see Will again, or when that would ever happen. At first, Mike was lost—he’d found the little boy of his dreams, and now he had no way to meet with him again. But then, when Nancy shared that she and Jonathan were going out, Mike felt hope. Jonathan is a bridge to Will, and Mike immediately began to devise plans of how to walk across. Then came the announcement of the joint Byers-Wheeler Thanksgiving dinner, and it was like the stars aligned. Mike could scarcely wait for Thanksgiving evening to arrive, and now that it has, he feels about ready to burst.

While everything happening with Will is incredibly exciting, it’s still been nerve-wracking. The first three days after Halloween, Mike spent in pathetically repressed abject terror the cops were going to burst into his room and haul him away in cuffs in front of his entire family. The thought kept him awake at night, and it was rough to say the least. Mike worried endlessly if he had done enough to soothe Will and really drive home his point of secrecy; that maybe he had hurt Will, traumatized him, and Will had cried to his brother about the whole experience. The thought of causing Will tears flooded Mike’s heart with sorrow. He prayed he hadn’t, and hopes he never will. Mike remembers how happy Will had been, so he’s sure he did right by him.

It’s been nearly a month now, and as the days went by and there was no release of an article in the local paper about Mike Wheeler, the teenage local child molester, he exhaled the quiet anxiety and paranoia. As the fear faded, he finally began to relax. Just as he thought, Will did enjoy himself with Mike. Will listened, just as promised, to their pact of secrecy. Since Will hasn’t said anything to anyone, and Mike himself certainly hasn’t, he bets that he’s in the clear. They’re safe. And, considering how Mike isn’t behind bars, Will must like Mike too—maybe even, Mike hopes, nearly as much as he likes Will. As Mike settled into the knowledge that he got away with it—that Will really did like everything they did—he began to feel a tremor of excitement. An illicit sexual affair, right under everyone’s noses. It makes Mike feel stronger, to know he and Will hold this passionate secret.

If Mike thought Nancy’s crush on Jonathan Byers was embarrassing, she has nothing on Mike—Mike’s crush on the young Will Byers is all-consuming—and the worst part is, he can’t talk to anyone about it.

He’s going mad.

At the least, Mike has been able to see Will. It’s fueled his addiction but amplified the withdrawal once he was without Will; scarce once again. Though his Will-spottings have been brief, and not nearly long enough or of the best quality, each time has been a gift Mike’s incredibly grateful for.

All three times have been when Mike was picking up Holly after school. He usually does so once a week on the days his mother is caught up with errands or Joyce-stalking. He got to bike with Holly to school on these days, while Nancy would ride with a friend. He and Nancy debate between themselves about who will pick up Holly on the times their mother can’t, and often opt to take turns. Initially, Mike jumped at the chance to rescue his sister from a long day at school, not only because biking back home with her was fun as they sang her favorite Disney songs, but because Mike used his time on the playground for a more unfavorable hobby of his. It was a school full of rambunctious children—Mike was only looking. But eventually, He found that while he does love looking at kids, he doesn’t love loving looking at kids. He opted for the turn system with Nancy to avoid tormenting himself with what he thought he could never have.

These past weeks, there have been three memorable occasions where Mike retrieved Holly from school and spotted Will amongst the other school children. The first time came as a shock to him, as while Mike was aware Will and Holly went to the same school, he never really considered he would see Will in such a casual context outside of Halloween. Will had been so built up in his mind that when Mike spotted him on the playground, swinging quietly by myself on the swing set, he stopped dead in his tracks. Mike stared and stared and stared, attention entirely captured as he tunnel-visioned on Will. It was November 6^th, six days since Halloween. The world fizzled out for the moment as Mike reconciled his perceptions with reality. His heart pounded to the rhythm of his speeding thoughts. Will was not just a tantalizing memory and reoccurring perfect fantasy, but a real, breathing, school-attending boy.

Mike swallowed drily as he blinked back into the present. He inched closer, but from there, he wasn’t sure how to go about approaching Will. Mike didn’t see him with any friends, and he assumed he must have been waiting still for Joyce or Jonathan to pick him up.

Mike stared for perhaps a little too long, tracking the motion of Will moving back and forth on the swing, before he started trying to catch Will’s eye. Mike’s waving was subtle enough to not make a fuss, but big enough to succeed in his mission. Will stopped pumping his legs as he saw Mike’s figure standing just outside the playground. Mike smiled at him and wiggled his fingers in a greeting, before taking a couple steps closer. Mike had been nervous, wondering about Will’s reaction to him—the threat of police involvement was still relatively fresh in his mind—and seeing Will now, unmoving on the slowly rocking swing, looking at Mike shyly, caused Mike to slow in his approach. Will turned to the wood chip floor and swung his feet. He glanced back up to Mike, then around the playground with an expression so timid and neutral it drove a stake through Mike’s heart.

Mike came up to Will and stopped a few feet away. “Hey,” he said gently.

Mike clung desperately to his last shreds of feeble hope.

Will stared at Mike’s chest. He wouldn’t meet Mike’s eyes.

“Um, hi,” Will said.

Mike shifted and leaned his weight on the swing set pole. “How’s it… how are you?”

“Good,” Will squeaked, quiet and reserved.

Mike cleared his throat. This was it. Will didn’t want him. The events of Halloween were just that—one night and one night only, stuck in the past, doomed to never repeat again. Will’s unwelcoming reaction tightened Mike’s chest with anxiety—would Will tell someone then, if Mike didn’t mean anything to him?

Mike nodded, heart cracking. “Good. That’s—good. I, um, I missed you,” he said. “Been thinking about you,” he added in a whisper.

The look of wonder and longing Will sent to him next instantly eased Mike’s paranoia. Mike sighed softly and smiled.

“Y-you did?” Will asked incredulously. Mike watched with desperate intrigue as the ice in Will’s eyes melted.

“Of course. I like you, Will.” Mike chuckled. “A lot.”

“Oh,” Will blushed and smiled giddily. He giggled and kicked his feet in the air.

Mike still doesn’t know what goes on in Will’s mind, but in that moment, he felt he wasn’t alone with his feelings. The small insight was immensely relieving.

Holly appeared at Mike’s side soon after to tug on his sleeve and ask to head home, so Mike, comfortable in his position, bid Will a quick, kind farewell with a wave. This time, Will waved back.

The second time Mike sees Will out in the wild is a kinder experience on his fragile heart and anxious mind. It’s another five days later that Mike is picking up his sister once again. Mike couldn’t spot her on the playground, so with a twinge of worry for his youngest sister, decided to wait for Holly to appear outside the school’s front doors. He was approaching the point of entering the school to look for her when, to Mike’s surprise and delight, she and Will walked out together, one after the other, with their backpacks over their shoulders.

Mike didn’t wonder for long as to why they were both walking out together and late, as Holly was quick to brightly greet him and explain how she and Will were friends now and were looking at the caterpillars in their classes together. As Mike walked down the steps with Holly and Will, the two kids explained their classes’ project of raising caterpillars into butterflies in a large net display in the centre of their classrooms.

Mike found their childish enjoyment of the simple occurrence of watching bugs grow charming, but was particularly captivated by Will’s sweet voice chiming in alongside Holly’s. Holly was always quick to talk about her thoughts, but Will was harder to pull from his shell. Among other feelings, Mike was proud to see Will comfortable in this way. Holly ran ahead, wanting to play on the playground with Eva for ten minutes. Mike made a show of dragging of his feet in faux reluctant agreement, taking pleasure in Holly’s little chuckle. Once she was off, Mike greeted Will properly.

“Hi. It’s nice to see you again,” Mike said. “How are you?”

Will smiled. “I’m good. I like your shirt.” He pointed at Mike’s The Cure band t-shirt. “Jonathan likes them, too.”

Mikes grinned. Will really was adorable. They chatted briefly, and Mike wasted no time in pulling out all the stops on his charm. He had Will blushing and giggling in no time, gazing up at Mike with those big sparkling hazel eyes. Mike admired how sweet Will was with his meek questions and observations, how cute he looked in his long-sleeve white and blue whale shirt, how his large yellow backpack hung off his shoulders. Will fiddled with the straps absentmindedly, until he perked up, staring at the parking lot.

“My mom’s car.” Will pointed to a green station wagon that just rolled up to the curb. “I have to go,” he said slowly.

Mike tamped down his frown and pat Will’s shoulder. He gave him a little squeeze. Mike was sad to see him go already. There was never enough time with Will. Mike wished they could stay in their moments forever.

“I’ll see you sometime soon, okay?” Mike smiled reassuringly and let his hand fall, reluctant and slow, from Will’s shoulder.

Will nodded. “Okay. Bye, Mike.” Will walked away without another word, yet he looked back with one last kind smile and farewell wave.

Mike thought about that interaction for a long while after—he still thinks about it to this day, weeks later. He wishes he could have simple, friendly conversations like that with Will every day.

The third time Mike saw Will was after the announcement of the joint Wheeler-Byers family Thanksgiving dinner, eight painfully long days since he’d last been graced by the presence of Will and nine days prior to the actual event. Karen had announced it at breakfast. At first, Mike was dismayed to have to endure the company of not one, but two families for the holiday gathering, his spirits quickly brightened as he realized Will is in one of said families. Mike immediately knew that would be his chance to not only see Will again, but to really experience him; to properly speak to him, and, if Mike was lucky, to touch him in all the ways he so desired. He knows Will would enjoy it, too. Mike knows how to make him feel pleasures beyond his wildest imagination, sensations that only he knows how to give him. It’s been a gift to be that person for Will, and he wants to give him more, so much more.

Mike mentally checks himself with a sigh. It’s a family gathering, and not the kind of lucky chance he had on Halloween. He will reign himself in, keep himself in check. Realistically, he can’t expect more than a hug from Will, and even that might be reaching in front of the audience of their families. Anything more would be dangerous. Mike won’t let his eternal boner for Will get the better of him. He can simply enjoy Will’s company, which he does adore, like a normal, law-abiding citizen. Mike barely represses his deranged grin.

When Mike saw Will the third time, he and Holly were walking to their bikes after school, and as he approached, he caught sight of another pair walking close by. Mike turned to see Will already staring Mike down with a glimmer. Will smiles, wide and unprompted, and waves.

“Hey!” Mike said. He waved back, open and welcoming. It was all he could do, really. They were in public, right out in the open—not to mention they were with their siblings, but at least it was something. Mike was further reassured now that he had the confirmation to cling to of seeing Will in a more private setting—and he still hopes for much more private—in a little over a week.

Mike spots them by the same green station wagon as before. They were parked quite close to their bikes—a lucky occurrence, and soon Will tugged at Jonathan’s sleeve. The brothers walked over and Jonathan greeted them both. They chatted politely about the upcoming dinner, but through the surface-level, tedious small talk, Mike made sure to pay Will a compliment on his new red sneakers. Will smiled bashfully, and Mike’s heart soared.

“Thanks! Mom got them for me when I won the spelling bee,” Will explained.

Mike stayed in Will’s bubble as they narrowed in on each other, leaving and Holly and Jonathan to chat on the outside. It left Will slightly flustered and Mike longing for more.

Jonathan broke the moment with a polite yet final interruption; comments about seeing each other soon and “looking forward to it”.  They both departed soon after, leaving Mike to forlornly watch over his shoulder their green station wagon pull away.

His three brief visits with Will weren’t enough—not nearly enough—but hell, it was something, and Mike will take every crumb he can get.

Refocusing on the present moment, Mike feels immense relief that he’ll be getting his biggest hit yet in less than a half hour. Eager to head out, he hastily completes his tasks and announces he’s finished.

It isn’t long before the other Wheelers finish up with the final food preparations and Karen herds them to the foyer. As a perfectionist, she always makes sure to leave early and with nothing forgotten. She dutifully checks over each of their bring-along items before deeming them ready to go. At her insistence, they all adorn coats and scarves, though Mike doesn’t see much of a point—they’ll only be outside for a few moments in between houses. Mike sighs and does as told, grabbing at his thinner blue winter coat. He shrugs it over his simple blue button up paired with black pants. It’s not worth it to fight her on this. He shoves his boots on, then steps out into the dim, late afternoon light. The streetlights glow yellow against the deep navy sky, and highlight the subtle beginnings of frost clinging to the lawn. Mike feels the chill on his exposed skin. He suddenly feels less resentment about being forced to dress warmer as he pulls his coat further around himself.

The five of them clamber inside the family car with an audible fuss. As offspring, Mike and Nancy, though adult size, are relegated to the backseat, sitting on either side of Holly who, being the smallest, squeezes into the middle. With the three kids squished knee to knee and bundled in warm winter wear, already uncomfortable, its only made even worse by the fact that they each have a dish or two settled on their laps. Their mother holds a large bowl too, so all except their father is pitching in, instead serving as the designated driver. The three siblings fiddle with their plates, squabbling as they click in their seatbelts, then announce their regret at wearing jackets in the car. Ted takes off, and though he can be a slow driver, Mike is grateful it shouldn’t be much more than a ten minute drive.

Holly squirms, bumping her elbow into Mike’s ribs.

“Ow, Holly,” Mike mutters.

“I’m… being… squished!” she complains.

It is a rare sight to see all five of them crammed into one car, so Mike doesn’t blame her. He furrows his brow, then shifts to give her more room.

“Better?” he asks, peering at her with concern.

Holly pouts. “My food is still squishing me.” She jolts her arms, rising up the large plate she’s balancing on her lap. She turns the full force of her big pleading eyes on Mike, and he sighs. She knows he will always concede to that. He smiles, begrudging yet fond, and motions to take her plate.

“Here we go,” Mike says. “I’ll trade you.” He has two dishes—a plate and a small bowl, so he gives Holly the little bowl and takes the larger dish from her small hands.

“Yay!” Crisis averted, Holly clutches it to her chest in success. Mike huffs through his grin and organizes the plates on his lap. She’s much too happy about this small victory, but Mike still finds her adorable. It would always be worth it to take on a little extra if it meant she could sit more comfortably. Mike thought it a fair trade anyway, especially when he is soon rewarded by a loving, appreciative smile. His lovely little sister leans into his side, snuggling up to him. Mike chuckles. He adjusts the dishes on his lap precariously, then slings his arm playfully over her shoulder. He twirls a lock of her golden hair, admiring how it shimmers under the passing flashes of light. Mike’s heart is fixated on Will, but Holly still had his notice. He sighs wistfully, then turns to gaze out the window.

After the expected ten minutes the car pulls up to the Byers’ house. Mike unclips his seatbelt as the car is rolling into the driveway and flings open his door as the car stutters to a stop. He’s the first one to hurl himself out and into the chilly air, with a stern admonishment from his mother. He barely hears her, because Will just is moments away. Mike balances his two plates then turns back to see the rest of his family piling out, Holly bounding up to his side with her small bowl in hand.

Mike eyes the welcoming front door. The porch light bathes the door and wooden front step in warm yellow light. Mike has never felt so called to a cozy home before, standing in the cold while knowing that inside holds the warmest person of them all.

Before Mike can do something foolish like throw himself at the Byers’ front door and drop the side dishes his mother slaved away on, Karen steps up to the front of the group as Ted is locking the car.

His mother fixes her sharp gaze on her children. “Mike. Holly. I expect you two to be on your best behavior,” she says curtly.

Mike frowns. “What, not Nancy too?” He eyes his sister with suspicion.

Nancy smirks and pats his head—it still manages to come off condescending though she’s nearly a foot shorter than him. He tries to swat at her but fails when he remembers his arms are full. He aims to kick instead, but she laughs and easily dances away with her one bowl.

“Only for the kiddies,” she teases, and Mike scowls.

Their mom sighs. “Okay, let’s get inside. We don’t want to catch colds.”

How could we, Mike thinks dryly, we’re sweltering in layers of winter gear.

Karen and Holly hold hands, leading the group, and the rest trail after. Mike walks quickly up, aching to get inside.

“You know,” Nancy starts, keeping Mike’s quick pace. “Jonathan’s told me Will’s been dying to see you again.”

“He has?” Mike says, flattered. A pleased smile rises up his cheeks. Holly rings the doorbell as Mike and Nancy wander up the steps.

“Yeah, I think you really made an impression on him,” Nancy elaborates. She bumps her shoulder into his lightly. “And you two were so cute last holiday, when Jonathan and I found you cuddled on the couch and fallen asleep.”

Mike blushes and grins sheepishly, looking to the wooden porch below his boots. It was stupid of himself to let his guard down like that, but he’s glad it’s been interpreted in such an innocent matter.

“Guess I’m just good with kids.” He shrugs.

Good at touching them and bringing them to multiple orgasms, if he wants to be specific.

It is at that moment that none other than the mother of said little boy opens the door with a warm smile—Joyce Byers. Mike has met her briefly before at Melvald’s, as well as seen her around town. She’s a nice woman, as far as he can tell, and must be especially so to raise a boy as sweet as Will. Mike likes her already.

“Karen!” Joyce exclaims warmly.

“Hello!” Mike’s mom replies with a little wave. Mike grimaces at the awkward pang he gets watching their overly friendly greetings.

“Thanks for coming. Come in, come in.” Joyce beckons the five of them inside.

Jonathan appears to help carry off the side dishes to the kitchen, greeting Nancy fondly as he goes. Joyce helps her son, taking the two plates from Mike’s hands. He likes her even more, now. Once the Wheelers have shucked their coats and boots, Joyce invites them further inside to the living room.

It is there that Mike spots Will, dangling his legs off the edge of the couch. Will perks up straight as he spots the newcomers, and Mike is instantly fixated on him. It’s like the world is narrowing down to one point, and it’s Will, it’s all Will. The mindless polite chatter fades away as Mike’s racing heart pounds against his ribs. He feels both light in his chest and a sinking, warm, tugging feeling in his gut. Will looks angelic as he is, haloed by the soft light of the lamp next to him. It brings out the hazel of his big eyes and the kind turn of his pink lips. Mike thinks he looks—happy to see him again. Though Will had been excited to see Mike the last they saw each other, Mike still couldn’t know for sure how he would react this time in the new location. Now, Mike realizes he had no reason to worry.

Seeing Will again now, in this setting, is everything. Mike is home.

Tunnel-visioning on Will, Mike stutters half-hearted greetings to the other Byers before somewhat clumsily making his way over to Will. It’s all he can do. He’s a puppet of his desires. Will looks at him with a quiet, pleased mirth, perking up in his seat as he senses the desire radiating off Mike in waves. Mike hopes Will knows he’s wanted, he’s so wanted. Will has to know. Mike can’t even spare the thought to wonder how he looks to others, but he hopes that they’re all too focused on their holiday greetings to notice.

He stops just short of Will, towering over the young boy. Will bends his neck back to meet Mike’s brown eyes, smiling shyly. Mike chuckles sheepishly before stepping aside and plopping himself next to him. Mike instantly leans into his space, but quickly realizes they are seated too close. He regretfully scootches over a cushion until it’s more of an appropriate distance. It;s much too early in the night to attempt public cuddling. Even the chaste position Nancy and Jonathan found them in last month could have been compromising, had their minds been willing to wander the dark.

Will gives him a confused look, pursing his lips, but it quickly rises back up when Mike smiles encouragingly. Maybe Will was just as affected by their parting as Mike was. He wishes he could know exactly what it is that Will is feeling. He wishes he could feel what Will is feeling, really—to experience it himself would be so intimate, almost magical, to experience the childlike wonder of infatuation.

They sit in a comfortable silence, buffered only by the sounds of greeting conversation from their families, as they take each other in. Mike rememorizes Will’s face, his body, in this new context. Will is wearing a soft lavender sweater that hangs just right around his thin torso, slim brown trousers that hug his little thighs, and playful blue and yellow striped socks. Mike adores him.

Finally, Mike speaks. “Hi.” He raises his hand for a playful wave, bobbing his eyebrows in tandem. Will giggles, and Mike’s heart sings.

“Hi,” Will replies through his grin.

“Will, it’s really good to see you again,” Mike says earnestly. He looks around the room—Joyce and Karen are caught in conversation, Holly is tugging on her father’s sleeve, and Jonathan and Nancy are once again whispering while caught by each other’s enamoured gazes.

Facing Will again, Mike thinks the slouch of his shoulders and tap of his fingers is shy and nervous, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. Mike scoots an inch closer.

Mike leans in to Will. “I missed you,” he whispers. He quickly retreats, casting a glance to his family. When Mike sees no one watching them, he knows he’s in the clear.

“I—um—thank you,” Will mumbles. “Me too.”

Mike chuckles. He rubs his thighs and down to his knees, smoothing away the nerves. It’s a keyed-up combination of long-held anxiety and overflowing excitement. Mike feels a little like a soda can shook up and left to sit, fizzing and popping at the seams. He wants to scoop Will into his arms and hold him tight, both to assure himself Will is really here, he is really his, and to remind Will how desired he is, so Will knows that no one can lo—care about him like Mike can.

As Mike searches for something to say, he’s saved from his awkward silence by Joyce announcing to the room that dinner will be served in thirty minutes. Karen quickly insists on helping in the kitchen, and though Joyce tries to convince her to stay using hostess charm, Karen wins her over with an adamance that leaves no room for protest, leaving both women to sweep towards the kitchen. Mike thinks his mom just wants to attempt salvaging the turkey.

The rest of their families take seats in the living room, and Mike turns his attention back to Will. He bites his cheek in thought. For all Mike has longed to be in Will’s presence once more, he finds he actually doesn’t know what to say. He blinks and furrows his brow, then decides upon a simple, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Will says. Mike thinks that’s all he has to say, before Will takes a breath and adds on, unprompted, “We made new art projects in class!”

Mike quirks a brow. “Oh yeah?” He feels a wave of relief as Will speaks with energy reciprocating Mike’s, and Mike instantly feels more secure. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if Will decided he wasn’t interested in him any longer.

Will nods. “Yeah!” He clasps his hands tight and holds them in his lap, like he’s containing all his excitement in the cup of his two hands. Mike is reminded by the excitement Will held on Halloween as they ran together through the streets. “Because it’s autumn and Thanksgiving is here, Ms. Sally taught us finger painting and drawing together!” Will squeals. “I didn’t know you could do both, but it’s really cool, and mine is—”

“Hi Will!” Holly calls, successfully interrupting the beginnings of their conversation. Irritated, Mike’s attention is severed as he snaps his head to his cheerful sister. He barely stops himself from glaring dangers at Holly. Never has he been disappointed to see her or hear her voice, and yet, clearly there’s a first time for everything. He takes a breath. She’s just a kid saying hello to one of her schoolmates—she’s done nothing wrong. She’s allowed to speak to Will.

Mike clenches his hands into fists. He forces himself to smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Hi Holly,” Will replies lightly. He’s smiling at her.

Mike tries to nod, but he doesn’t think he manages it.

Holly continues to pester Will with comments, sitting up on the coffee table to face him. Resigned to sharing Will’s attention, Mike sighs softly and slouches, tension snapping in his body like a guitar string wound too tight. Really, he should have expected this. After a month of basically no Will, Mike is now being cockblocked by his little sister.

Well, that’s just perfect.

Mike sighs again and keeps his eyes on Will, studying his demeanour. Mike thinks Will seems a little put out by Holly’s interruption, too—well, Mike hopes he is. He knows Will enjoys being in his own company, as he’s always sure to give the most devoted attention. Will is precious; he deserves that much. But now, watching Holly talking to Will, stealing Will’s attention away, Mike can’t help but feel a sharp, ugly, and confusing pang of jealousy. His eye twitches as he looks between the two children. On the one hand, there’s Will—his Will, who he’s thought of non-stop for a month, who is so kind, creative, soft, and sweet, with gorgeous hazel eyes and soft brown hair, who Mike’s held so intimately, kissed and moved with passionately. But on the other hand, it’s his younger sister, Holly—always thinking of him and lifting his moods with her playfulness, kind and social, so beautiful with her long platinum hair, so willing to give Mike her affection.

Mike feels a heady possessiveness rise in him on a primal level, feeling pulled back and forth between the two and somehow still left on the outside. They’re not supposed to look at each other that way, with those smiles and tentative strings of friendship, with adoration—that’s meant for Mike.

Especially Will.

Mike glares between them, hoping to sever their budding connection with the force of his gaze alone.

Will has a tentative smile rising up his cheeks, showing his white bunny teeth. Holly is beaming at Will as she recounts her days on the playground, an excited shimmer in her eyes.

Will’s grin crinkles around his eyes.

They’re both smiling so happily at each other.

Mike blinks. The tension in his heart snaps.

He has to admit to himself—he does, very deep down, find it nice to watch the two of them get along. They’re the same age and go to the same school, and Mike does want the best for both of them. He taps his fingers along his knees, drumming a steady rhythm. They have the perfect setup for their circumstantial friendship to grow, fueled by the dual forced proximity of the schoolgrounds and their siblings’ new relationship. Mike knows Holly is a social butterfly and not lacking in the friend department—but Will? Mike has met his bullies. Will has confided in him the way he is treated. Mike tips his head while he curiously and tentatively shifts his perspective. Will needs all the support he can get—and if that means sharing Will with his sister, and Holly with his crush, then so be it.

Mike relaxes his shoulders once more. He allows a faint smile to grace his lips. He tries to insert himself into the conversation, and is immensely grateful when two kids are receptive to his comments. They both appear excited that Mike is wanting to talk with them, and pull him into their discussion about their favorite toys. They’re already thinking of what they’ll get for Christmas and from Santa. Mike’s annoyance slips away and he brightens as the three of them chat. He gradually realizes that speaking with both Will and Holly is a pleasant experience. They are his two favorite people, after all.

Mike’s pulled away from the conversation by Jonathan’s polite conversation, reeling him in awkwardly by asking about classes. Mike squints at him a moment before relenting, giving him a simple enough answer. Jonathan is awkward with it, but Mike does think it’s nice that he’s make an attempt to get to know his new girlfriend’s family. Mike takes pity on Jonathan and takes his chance to ask a simple question in turn.

Their conversation pitters out relatively fast as they realize they don’t have enough in common or the level of social skills to weave a conversation together, leaving them in a new awkward silence. Jonathan retreats first, turning back to Nancy who’s been watching with an amused grin as they played conversation like two beginner chess players. She didn’t lift a finger to help them. Mike rolls his eyes.

Will and Holly have taken to inspecting one of Will’s toys left under the coffee table. Mike looks between the two of them, and something fizzles out inside—that’s enough, now. They’ve had plenty of time to catch up, and Mike’s been very patient. He doesn’t want to be patient any longer.

Mike taps Will on the shoulder gently. As Will turns, Mike smiles warmly.

“What’s this little guy, here?” Mike inquires, tugging on the ear of the teddy bear.

“This is Julie! I’ve had him for a long time,” Will explains, fiddling with the worn paws. “He’s special.”

Mike leans in closer and puts his elbows on his knees, partially cutting Holly off from them.

“He’s cute,” Mike says. Without taking his eyes off Will, he playfully ruffles Will’s hair. Will grins and turtles into the collar of his sweater, taking Mike’s frisky attack quietly. Mike chuckles and smooths out Will’s hair, and Will slowly drops his shoulders. He giggles, then holds Julie out to Mike. Mike knows he has Will now.

“Oh, thanks.” He delicately receives Will’s teddy bear, then turns him around to face Will. He holds the bear up to his face and drops his voice into something playful and springy.

“Hi Will,” Mike says through his grin. As hoped for, Will giggles again. Mike thinks he could listen to the sound forever.

Mike laughs and drops Julie back onto his lap, settling the bear carefully in the dip of his thighs. He holds his cheek in his hand as he rests his elbow on his thigh again. Holly shifts next to them from her seat on the coffee table, and Will glances over to her with mild surprise.

Mike clears his throat quietly. “Can you tell me more about your Thanksgiving art project? I still really want to know about it,” he asks, staring Will down until he turns back to face Mike.

“Yeah!” Will nods. He looks between Mike and Holly once more, then begins to share about his class project.

Mike holds Will’s attention with a death grip. Whenever there’s lull in his recall, Mike is quick to dive in with questions. At times, Holly tries volunteering something from her own class, but Mike is quick to interrupt her with a question for Will. Will blushes under Mike’s intense gaze and sneaks nervous looks to Holly, but he answers as asked.

Good boy.

Not long after the third interruption, Holly sighs and turns tail, heading over to Nancy and Jonathan seated across the room. Mike smiles victoriously watching her go, and Will is quick to hop up on the couch to sit next to him. Mike hands him back his bear and Will cuddles it to his chest as they continue to chat.

Within the next five minutes, Joyce rounds the corner and peeks her head into the living room. “Hey, dinner is ready!”

Mike perks up. He doesn’t always feel hungry, and admittedly skips meals when he forgets to eat, but right now, bathed in the tantalizing Thanksgiving scents, food is more than welcome. He just won’t eat the gross amount that is required of him. That’s a Thanksgiving tradition he can easily skip.

He turns to Will, who’s sitting straighter and appearing equally interested in the announcement.

“You hungry?” Mike asks in a lilting voice.

Will nods, looking up at Mike. Mike holds his gaze, waiting to see if Will will run ahead of him to the kitchen.

He doesn’t. He sits obediently, waiting for Mike’s next move.

Mike smirks and jerks his chin. “Come on.”

Mike and Will make their way out of the living room, trailing behind Nancy and Jonathan. His sister turns back to him with a teasing simper.

“You know, maybe you should sit at the kiddie table, Mike,” she jests. “You are the unofficial babysitter, after all. I think you’d fit in better, with the other kids. Leave the grow-ups to talk.” She grins, eyes sparkling with mirth.

Mike knows it’s a demeaning comment, but his initial reaction is positive. He wouldn’t mind—in fact, would prefer sitting at a table with just Will and Holly. Will and Holly, completely at his attention? Mike would be in heaven.  

“Oh ha ha, Nancy. Real funny,” Mike snarks. He rolls his eyes for good measure, and catches Will’s pleased little grin at the tail end. Mike smiles at him, bringing him into the fun.

The dining room as a oval table with a leaf in the centre, fit with eight mismatched chairs. Mike thinks the Byers aren’t used to this many guests, as the dining table is looking quite stuffed to the brim with platters of food. There’s barely room for their plates and utensils, and yet the two families all find their seats. On the two ends are Karen and Joyce, while Ted sits next to his wife, and Nancy is sandwiched in between him and Jonathan. Mike sits across from Nancy with Will and Holly on his two sides.

Like any good Christian family who barely participates save for statutory holidays, Karen asks to say grace. They all join hands around the table. Mike’s eyes sparkle at Will, staring down his slender pale hand in the yellow light of the chandelier. He eagerly takes hold of it. He squeezes their hands and gives Will a warm smile. Will kicks his feet giddily under the table and squeezes him back three times in playful succession. Will is too cute to be real.

Karen says grace, and each one of them tips their heads down and closes their eyes. In a fit of daring, Mike laces his and Will’s fingers together. He cracks open his eyes. Everyone is completely unaware. It sends a pang of excitement racing through Mike.

It’s right under their noses!

As his mother is talking about the grace, love, and acceptance of God, His mercy, His kindness, how He has brought good unto their hearts and into their families, Mike can’t help his mischievous grin. He hasn’t followed God since he was ten, and stopped fearing Him at the ripe age of seven. Mike doesn’t even know if He exists, when it comes down to it.

What God makes a man like Mike?

God has nothing on Mike and his little boy. His Will. Mike lifts his eyelids to peer at him. His head is tipped down, soft brown locks falling above his eyes and brushing over his brow, his dark lashes curling, twitching ever so slightly as he fights the urge to open them. Mike wonders what Will is thinking about, if he believes in God, any God; if he’s even old enough to comprehend the concept. Mike knows Will is an intelligent, creative soul—but he’s still so young. There’s so much beauty in his naïve innocence.

What God must think, looking down on their two families. They give thanks as Mike delights in the intimate touch of a young boy.

They all murmur a collective “Amen,” and the feasting promptly commences. Mike withdraws his hand from Will with some reluctance, and picks up his cutlery.

Mike spends the dinner in a fit of torturous longing—Will is so close that Mike could reach out that half foot and touch him, but save for the brief joining of their hands for performative religious displays, it’s forbidden. Mike takes a sip of his sparkling apple juice. It’s a substitute for the white wine the adults drink, and while Mike would rather something alcoholic, he doesn’t mind it’s sweet, bubbly taste.

It’s not long before Karen begins to ask her children what they are grateful for, and it starts a domino effect around the table for each of them to share. Mike spews nonsense about his two best friends, then tacks on a compliment to Ms. Byers about her turkey. It turned out well, Mike thinks, even though his mom was worried about it. The conversation circles around until everyone’s spoken their gratitude—all except for Will, who’s stayed mostly quiet. He’s patiently and curiously watched the dinner conversation unfold.

Mike turns to him. “What are you grateful for, Will?”

He really is curious to know.

Will shifts food around on his plate with his fork. When he looks up to Mike, he wears a curiously pensive expression. Mike smiles, trying to encourage him, and Will smiles smally back.

“My-my friends, too,” Will murmurs. “I like my new friends.”

Mike beams.

The conversation isn’t so interesting after that. The polite dinner small talk might actually put Mike in Pennhurst by the end of the evening. Asking about his classes, his plan for the future, if he has a girlfriend—Mike can only smile and nod and give excruciatingly non-detailed nothing answers so many times while Will is just sitting primly beside him, not even an arm’s reach away. That’s not even the worse part—since Mike got landed with the unfortunate honour of sitting across from Nancy and Jonathan, who, even though they are around the company of both their families, are too disgustingly besotted to not make unsubtle lovey-dovey eyes at each other.

This is a strange circle of Hell.

Mike doesn’t want to admit it, not really, but deep below the nausea of watching his older sister flirt, he’s jealous. He can’t flirt with Will, not openly like she can with her Byers brother. Mike can’t make eyes at him, can’t secretly hold his hand under the table—as if no one else has noticed them doing that. They can be so obvious at times. Mike wishes that could be him, and it hurts.

He sneaks small glances at Will throughout and is able to make little comments about the dinner. He can’t whisper inside jokes into his ear, can’t swipe the hair from his eyes. It has to be enough. It has to.

Mike survives dinner, and it’s a miracle.

But now that dessert has come around, Mike’s starting to lose it.

Their night together is almost over, and they’ve spent it in excruciatingly censored small talk. Mike’s been ruined since Halloween—how could anything compare to touching Will and wringing out his high moans, to kissing him softly, passionately, languorously, as he fucks inside him?

“I hope everyone likes pumpkin pie,” Joyce says modestly.

“That sounds wonderful, Joyce. Did you make it yourself?” his mother asks politely.

The two mothers discuss recipes and the intricacies of baking. Mike wants to gouge his eyes out.

Everyone is served a generous slice, which Mike has no intention of even trying to finish, and offered a dollop of whipped cream. Mike refuses the topping—the texture of whipped cream is awfully subpar and not worth the mild sweet taste—but Will asks for an extra helping of it, essentially coating his modestly-sized slice. Will looks so excited as he eyes his dessert, kicking his feet that can’t reach the floor under the table, twiddling his small fork, but he waits, glancing around the room at all the others, until everyone has been served. He’s so terribly polite—how does a boy his age act so naturally considerate?—that Mike wants to sigh longingly, gaze at him with hooded eyes and a happy, lazy grin, content in the knowledge that Mike has truly lucked out.

But he still can’t.

The amount of self-control he’s using, watching Will take a dainty bite of his pie, to not push Will against the wall and kiss him until they both can’t breathe is staggering. It’s even starting to hurt, now.

The Byers and Wheelers eat pumpkin pie like two normal families on Thanksgiving and not like the horny animal Mike feels like inside.

Mike sneaks subtle glances at Will as he eats, and he nearly chokes. His grip tightens painfully so around his fork. He clears his throat and quickly looks down.

Does Will really need to suck on the spoon that much? Jesus Christ.

It’s trying, but the last time Mike glances at Will, his gaze lingers for too long. He tries not to gape.

A teenage boy can only withstand so many blows before he cracks.

Mike watches in a daze, zeroing in on Will as the world falls away, as he brings the spoon to his dainty, pink mouth and takes a bite of pure whipped cream. Will’s lips wrap around the silver spoon and lap off the fluffy white cream, then his cheeks hollow and suck. His throat shifts and bobs as he swallows. As if that weren’t enough, when he pulls out the spit-slicked spoon, a dash of whipped cream remains stubbornly at the corner of his lips.

Mike gulps. There’s a feral creature in a horny rut rattling around in his chest—it would explain why he feels like he’s going batshit insane (and, he notes with a fair amount of anxiety, sporting a half-chub in his tightening pants).

Maybe whipped cream isn’t so bad after all.

Will toys with the cream of his dessert, running his spoon through it and marking little patterns.

Yeah, yeah definitely not. God, Mike wants to lick his whole fucking body—

Mike jerks his head away. He draws in a sufferingly slow, heavy breath through his nose, nostrils flared from the effort. Mike was staring. He unclenches his jaw and slowly shifts it. He is going to die.

He looks back to Will, and this time catches his hazel eyes. Will smiles, and Mike breath stutters and stops. It’s what breaks him. It’s the most perfect thing—Will is the most perfect creature. All Mike can do is stare at his cherubic face and curved lips with an insatiable, all-consuming hunger. He’d get down on his knees and pray if it meant Will would always smile at him like this. Mike would ask for nothing else to drive him over the edge.

Maybe this is his punishment—to be driven mad by need.

Mike knows his next move is stupid—he’s going to look back on this, hold his head in his hands, and muffle a mortified scream—but he really is helpless here.

“Will, you’ve got some, uh—here, I’ll get it for you.” Mike carefully swipes his thumb over the cream on Will’s lip. Will stills and blinks up at Mike, eyes shining. If his fingers brush Will’s brightening pink cheeks, no they didn’t.

“Just some whipped cream,” Mike mutters. He doesn’t dare to look at anyone’s reactions—what if they are all looking at him, what if they know, what if Will’s already told everyone and this is all a setup to trap him—

“Oh. Thanks,” Will squeaks.

Mike stares at Will like it’s his job. He’s going for a pay raise and losing his goddamn mind in the process.

And really, how many times is he going to have an opportunity like this, to be in Will’s presence? Who knows when he’s going to see Will next, let alone have the two of them so close to privacy. Really, this is Mike’s only chance. He only knows the now, that this moment, he has Will—and he’s desperate to wring every drop of satisfaction he can from this. Is it so much to ask? He’s only a teenage boy, and he has needs.

He just wants to be alone with the person he desires most.

“Yeah, no problem.” Mike shrugs. Quickly glancing around the table, he notes everyone is absorbed in their conversations and dessert. Mike subtly pulls his glass of sparkling apple juice next to the edge of the table, then makes a bigger show of grabbing at it.

Maybe it’s an accident. Maybe it’s on purpose. Either way, it happens, and Mike isn’t upset with the result. Not at all.

His fingertips hit the side—the glass wobbles—and with a skillful flick of his hand, the glass goes tumbling off the side of the table, and spills directly onto Will’s lap. Drops splash and strike Mike’s chest, leaving Will soaked and Mike lightly sprayed with the sweet, fizzing drink.

Will gasps and jumps in his seat. He blinks quickly and shakes out his hands, as though it would soothe away the sensation of being drenched in wet, sticky clothes.

Several people exclaim simultaneously. It’s a cacophony of loud, overlapping Wheelers.

“Oh!” Karen exclaims, her hand coming up to rest on the top of her chest with a look of barely contained shock.

“Oh, fu—uh—darn, Will, I’m so sorry!” Mike cries.

“Michael.” Ted sighs, unimpressed, and drops his fork on the edge of his plate with a light clang.

“Woah, Mike!” Nancy calls, shooting him an affronted and disapproving glare. She sighs and rolls her eyes, then crosses her arms.

Mike barely holds back a sneer at his older sister. She’s a dreadful perfectionist. Meanwhile, Holly is a little angel. She simply blinks owlishly at the scene unfolding with a small giggle, then goes back to devouring her pie.

“Sorry, sorry!” Mike snatches up his and Will’s cloth napkins and pats them over Will’s sweater darkened by the drink. Mike catches a glimpse of Jonathan trying to hide an embarrassed cringe behind a polite smile. It’s a little mortifying, and if Mike wasn’t so desperate, he’d be terribly embarrassed—but being horny has driven him to all kinds of insanity as of late, so what is this, really, in the grand scheme of things?

“That’s alright, Mike, it’s just a little juice.” Joyce waves him off forgivingly in a motherly manner, and in true Joyce style, turns her caring attention to Will. “Will, honey, are you okay?” she asks, peering at her son with concern.

“God, I can be a klutz sometimes, are you alright Will?” Mike pats lower and over his thighs, then incrementally inches higher.

Will nods, slightly dazed from the sudden kerfuffle. “Yeah, I’m… I’m okay, just all… wet.” Will pouts and looks upon his sweater and trousers with a note of saddened worry.

Mike heartstrings are yanked on painfully. He didn’t want to upset Will, not ever. He’s going to make it up to him. Properly.

“Uh, yeah, I got some on me as well.” Mike chuckles self-deprecatingly with a little shrug, then he smoothly brushes the cloth over Will’s lap and presses at his groin. Will sucks in a sharp, quiet breath. Mike goes one step further and draws his finger pointedly over Will’s clothed cock. For only a moment, Mike gazes down at Will with a small smirk and heated eyes. He winks with the eye only Will can see. Will’s red flush is immediate, and Mike triumphs.

Mike retracts the crumpled napkins and leaves them on the edge of the table. He raises his hands and ducks his head apologetically to the room.

“Uh, I can get us cleaned up in the bathroom. I don’t wanna disturb dinner any more than I already have.” Mike pushes back his chair and stands, looking to Will. He watches. He waits.

Will’s going to come with him, one way or another.

“Oh! That’s very kind of you, Mike,” Joyce says, pleasantly surprised. She leans into Will’s space across the table with a concerned, doting smile. “Is that okay with you, Will?” She whispers directly to her son, though it’s loud enough that everyone can hear.

Will turns his gaze from his mother and up to Mike. Mike subtly cocks the eyebrow only Will can see. Will blinks at him a couple times and nods shakily. He smiles at Joyce, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah, Mike can help.” He bites his lip and scoots off his chair, hopping to the floor and flicking out his fingers.

“C’mon, Will. Sorry again,” Mike says consoling. He offers his hand down to Will, who tentatively takes it. They walk out of the dining area as Mike says, “Lead the way? I don’t know where the bathroom is.”

Will nods and tugs him along. “Mm-hm, I’ll show you.”

Just as they are out of view of the dining area, Mike has the idea for a cover. He says, slightly louder than necessary for just him and Will, “And maybe you can show me your drawings on the way back?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” Will says quietly.

“Cool,” Mike murmurs.

“Here’s the bathroom,” Will whispers. Will stands on his tiptoes to turn on the light, and releases Mike’s hand. Mike follows him in, then shuts and locks the door behind him.

In the privacy of a locked room, there’s nothing holding Mike back anymore.

As Will turns to face him with a trepidatious gaze, Mike snatches him by the waist and lifts him up. He presses Will to the adjacent wall, pinning him with his whole torso, and kisses him roughly on his perfect lips. Will squeaks and clings to Mike’s shoulders. Kissing Will again is everything to Mike, and he’s so wrapped up in his haze of lust that he doesn’t initially notice Will tensing up. When Mike realizes Will isn’t reciprocating the kiss with as much fervor, he slows his lusting assault. He pulls back with a soft click and smiles sheepishly. Will is blushing bright pink, lips kissed red. He gives Will’s waist a squeeze, then kisses the tip of his nervous nose. Mike’s dick, growing harder from the feel of Will pressed to him, of licking his soft lips, pulses with fiery hot irritation at stopping.

But Mike has self-control. He can check on Will first.

Mike sighs. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t really mean to spill my drink on you and make you upset. I just wanted to be alone with you, so I can really show you how much I love you.” Mike kisses from Will’s temple and down along his jaw. “Please, baby. I’m sorry. You’re so beautiful, so lovely, and I missed you so much.” Mike pecks Will’s lips, then gazes into his shimmering hazel eyes, flicking back and forth between Mike’s adoring, pleading stare.

Will parts his lips. He breaths, but doesn’t speak. He squeezes Mike’s shoulders, then looks away. He gives a little nod and kicks his legs on either side of Mike.

“Will?” Mike presses with a pang of worry. He cups Will’s cheek and sweeps his hair aside. “Will, baby, it’s okay. We like each other, remember? I missed you, I missed you so much. I just want to be around you all the time. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” Mike breaths against Will’s lips. “I’m sorry.” Mike kisses him again, slotting their parted lips together like puzzle pieces. Will is open just enough to give Mike room to worm his way in. He darts his tongue inside to tease Will’s, then flicks it over the ridges of his palate. Will hums, relaxing in his hold as Mike nuzzles into him with slow, deep, soothing kisses. Will wraps his legs around Mike’s waist and hooks his ankles at the back, warming up to his advances. It gives Mike better access to press Will more firmly into the wall. A burn reignites in Mike’s belly at the feel of him, and blood shunts directly to his rapidly hardening cock.

Mike pulls apart with a click. “You’re so special to me, Will,” he whispers heatedly. He dives back in, drinking Will in and tugging at his lips, teeth clashing as Mike, pent-up and longing as he is, does his very best to absorb Will into his being.

Between kisses, Mike continues to speak softly to Will, complimenting and praising him however he can, until Will is a bashful, blushing, giggling, squirming mess underneath him, overwhelmed by Mike’s affection. Mike beams at him. He just can’t help himself.

“You’re my favorite person here.” Mike pecks his lips. “So cute, with the prettiest smile. I needed to be alone with you.” Mike pulls Will back in again. “I adore you, baby. Like you so much.” He kisses Will’s chin, who’s smiling too widely to properly kiss anymore. Mike’s grin stretches ear to ear, eyes crinkling at the corners with unabashed joy.

“Do you forgive me?” Mike whispers, rubbing their noses gently together. He bites his bottom lip. “Please?”

Will wrangles in his smile and his face softens into a simple, adoring acceptance.

“Yeah, it’s okay. I forgive you.”

Mike bumps their foreheads lightly together.

“Thank you, baby,” he coos.

Will giggles, and his legs squeeze around Mike’s waist. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Mike breaths. He gives Will a final peck on the lips, then grips his thighs. Will’s legs are so small that Mike’s large hands wrap nearly all the way around.

“Let’s get towels and get you dressed, hmm?” Mike gives him a playful squeeze.

“Mm-hm. I’m still all… wet,” Will says, his little nose twisting up with disdain.

Mike chuckles, then sets Will down on his feet next to him. He glances at his own shirt, dampened by his time spent pressing himself to Will. He doesn’t have a spare to change into, but he hopes it will dry enough by the time he returns. He tugs open the small linen closet in the corner and roots through, finding a plush white towel. He waves it in front of Will.

“Show me to your room?” Mike asks, somewhat cheekily.

Will leads them out of the bathroom, Mike flicking the light off as they go. Mike holds the towel just-so in front of himself, subtly covering his groin. They head into Will’s room off the end of the hall.

Mike’s never been in Will’s room—hell, this is the first time he’s been at Will’s house—and he wasn’t sure what to expect—but gazing around his room now, Mike can see how perfectly it suits him.

The walls are a faint, warm yellow, and the one window has soft white curtains parted around the frame. His bed is small—a twin with a short head and footboard in light wood, and a simple striped duvet featuring a comical green dragon flying and spewing bright red fire. There’s a small desk opposite the bed covered in sketches and crayons, where Mike can see little colorful doodles of fantastical characters. Mike, sidetracked from his original mission, inches closer to the drawings. While basic and sketchy, here’s a certain technicality to them that Mike has never seen for a boy Will’s age, and the choice in colors accentuate and draw out certain features.

He really has an eye for art.

“Will, did you draw these?” Mike taps the desk and turns to face Will. Will is standing in the middle of his room, fingers laced together, and Mike waves to the drawings on his desk. Will nods, and when he notices the sparkle in Mike’s eyes, smiles broadly and bounces on the balls of his feet playfully.

“Yeah, umm, I drew them.”

Mike reaches Will in one large step and swoops him up, spinning him around once before settling him at his waist.

“They’re amazing, Will! You’re a really great artist, I mean it.”

Mike does, he really does.

Will giggles and looks down. His two hands twitch and shake with excitement.

“Thanks, Mike,” he squeaks.

Mike chuckles and presses a swift kiss to Will’s head, then gently places him down on the bed to sit.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, for real this time.” Mike tosses the towel next to Will, then crouches with his hands on his knees. “Arms up, baby.”

Mike, barely holding back his excitement, hastily reaches out. Mike’s been sporting an obvious hard-on since shoving Will up against the wall and sucking his face. His cock throbs as Will dutifully raises his arms over his head. Things are progressing in a much desired way.

Mike tugs up the hem of Will’s pretty lavender sweater, revealing his pearly white torso unexposed to rays of sunlight. Mike lifts it over his rose-pink nipples steadily beading at the change in temperature. He gently touches one with his thumb as he goes. Will shivers and blinks up at Mike with a knowing yet shyly curious look, and, dare Mike think, a timid longing. Mike smirks, then lifts the garment off. He tosses it across the room, never taking his eyes off Will’s exposed chest. Mike leans up and over Will, and Will falls back slightly to compensate Mike’s height. Mike breathes over Will’s collarbones, tracing the small yet infinite expanse of his smooth, hairless chest with his nose, his lips, then laps his warm tongue lightly over Will’s nipples.

“Mm!” Will jumps a little under Mike, then relaxes once again as Mike presses a long, slow kiss to his sternum.

“Gorgeous. So gorgeous, Will,” Mike whispers. He raises his gaze to meet Will’s as he kisses down the length of Will’s torso, over his soft belly slightly distended in his youth. Sugary, sparkling apple flavours Will’s skin; perfumes his soft, supple torso. Kissing Will’s body is sweet like drinking from a honeyed-elixir; energizing, activating, rejuvenating, and Mike loses himself in the true depths desire. Mike swears that if this continues, he’ll live forever.

 He kisses Will’s belly button and his tongue slips out, dipping in. Will squirms and giggles, and Mike smiles, squeezing at his sides. Mike catches Will’s eyes once his laughter has settled down, then pointedly lowers them to Will’s damp lap.

“It looks like your pants are soaked, too. We’re gonna have to take them off,” Mike states simply. He fingers the hem of Will’s stained brown trousers, then fiddles with the button and zipper, exposing Will’s yellow briefs. He spreads the fly, eyeing Will’s small bulge with a watering mouth, then snaps his head around to the door in a small panic.

“That door have a lock on it, Will?” Mike asks, voice tense.

Will shifts on the bed. “No.”

Mike hums and draws back from Will, eyeing his small room. He decides on Will’s desk chair, hauling it up and over to the door. The back is just high enough to wedge under the door, providing a crude lock.

He doesn’t think anyone would interrupt them—the dinner party is in full swing, and they all know Mike and Will have a soft spot for each other. It makes sense they might take a while. Mike breathes carefully. It makes sense. Besides, they would just think Will got caught up showing Mike all of his toys and many drawings.

They wouldn’t test the door. But… if they did, it would be better for them to be suspicious about a temporarily jammed bedroom door than walking in on Mike and Will’s antics. It would irrefutably confirm the worst of said suspicions.

Mike, forcing himself to feel content enough with their level of protection, slides back over to Will, who has remained sitting still and shirtless, propped up on his hands. Taking all of Will in, Mike lets his anxiety wash away. He kneels before Will with a small, eager grin.

He dips his fingers into the waistband of Will’s yellow underwear, and delights in the soft gasp it draws out of the boy. Mike thumbs the fabric. They’re completely dry.

“I think these need to be changed too,” Mike murmurs. He snaps the waistband, eyeing Will. Will nibbles his bottom lip, and Mike rushes up to kiss him as he peels his underwear down with both hands, then drags them down his hips and over his thighs. He pulls out of the kiss to tug them off Will’s ankles, snatching his striped socks as he goes. He tosses them aside.

Will’s entirely exposed to Mike—his small, lithe, plush body on display for him and his eyes only. Mike’s cock twitches in his dress pants. If he wasn’t completely hard before, he definitely is now. He stands up, only to lean over Will and place a large hand over his chest. He rubs it along to his side, memorizing the planes of Will’s perfect, smooth body.

“That’s better, baby,” Mike murmurs silkily. “Let’s get you dry.”

“Uh—uh-huh,” Will stutters in agreement, and his pretty blush spreads down to the top of his chest.

Mike snags the towel he left stranded beside Will, then brings it over the slight dampness of his chest. He drags it down, and the plush towel swipes up and absorbs the last remnants of the sweet drink from his torso. Mike wipes it gently over his lap and thighs, then takes extra care to swipe it around Will’s sweet, small, pinkening cock. Mike thinks that if they had more time, more privacy, he’d lick Will clean head to toe and suck every sweet drop of juice from his skin until he’s red, needy, and begging for Mike’s cock to fill him, to pleasure him where he deserves.

Mike envies the towel.

He drops the used fabric to the floor and pushes Will back by the hips. He gently pries apart his soft thighs, revealing more of his precious arousal—all for him, all for Mike. Mike’s dick jerks at the sight, straining against his pants. He tugs at the fabric, then looks up to Will as he lowers his mouth down, lips parted gently and breath grazing his pink tip. Will is watching him with wide-eyes full of wonder and mystification, and as Mike licks the head of his cock and sucks it between his lips, Mike sees every question Will had be answered. Will moans and shudders from only the smallest attention. The taste of Will’s arousal is like no other—delicate and pure, light and heady on Mike’s tongue. It’s the sweetness of his young, plump skin, the pulse of pleasure in his veins, warm and heated with desire. It’s driving Mike over the edge, and he’s spiraling in midair, no bottom in sight. Mike squeezes his hips, then pops off his cock with a small, wet click.

He rises up to Will’s eyeline. “You like that, baby? Want me to do it more?” Mike croons sweetly, temptingly, goading him to pluck the apple and take a bite. Mike will hungrily lick the juices from Will’s chin.

Will shivers and pants. His dilated pupils can’t decide where to stay, and they flicker between each of Mike’s dark eyes and his flushed red lips. Mike runs his tongue slowly through the slit of his lips. Will’s pupils dilate. He gives Mike a small, shaky nod; not much more than a jerk of his chin.

Mike hums and leans in closer. “I want you to say it,” he purrs. “Tell me.”

Will sucks in a tremorous breath. He fixes his eyes on Mike’s lips. “I like it,” he whispers.

Mike cocks his head. “And?” he coaxes.

Will nibbles his lip, then meets Mike’s eyes and releases it. The flesh is newly bright pink.

Mike wants to devour him whole.

Will holds his gaze bravely. When he speaks, he’s so quiet that if they weren’t entirely still, that if their hearts beat a little faster, a little louder, Mike doesn’t think he would have heard him.

Will exhales. “I want you to do it more.”

Mike wastes no time in answering Will’s desires.

He dives back between Will’s legs, his deep brown eyes locked on shimmering, magical hazel, and sucks Will’s undeveloped cock back into the heat of his mouth, all the way down to the root.

Will’s reaction is instantaneous. He lets out a loud, squeaking moan, and his thin arms give out. He lands on his back on the bed, thighs spread apart for Mike to have full, unrestricted access.

Mike stiffens, and his cock is aches painfully. He glances up to Will, back arched and whimpering softly, then pops off his cock. Will pants as Mike rises and leans over him.

“Will, baby,” Mike says. He kisses Will’s neck sweetly, pressing his lips to his pulse. Will makes a soft “mm!” sound as Mike paws his waist and sucks his neck.

“Baby, all your noises are so pretty, and I want to hear them all, but we have to be quiet, okay? Remember that this is just our secret? No one can hear your lovely sounds but me.” Mike strokes his flushed cheek as Will blinks up at him. “Just me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Will nods.

Mike pecks Will on the lips. He eyes the door for several long moments in nervous silence, tensed up like a prey creature ready to bolt. When nothing happens, he kisses Will once more before trailing back down his hairless chest, kissing as he travels lower and lower. Mike quirks his brow as Will watches, propping himself up on his elbows. He smirks devilishly, then licks Will’s hard cock. Will bites back another moan, throwing his head back.

“Good boy. You’re doing so well, Will,” Mike coos. He sucks Will back into his mouth and listens to Will gasp and squeal. Mike’s hand flies up, clapping over Will’s mouth, as his heart races fearfully.

Mike releases his cock again to say, “I love to hear you, baby, but just for this time, okay?” Will has barely nodded in response before Mike is sucking him back inside to the warm heat of his mouth. Will shakes, chest heaving, and moans into Mike’s hand, muffled but vibrating up through Mike’s muscles and into the marrow of his bones. Mike rubs his thumb along Will’s cheek as he bobs and sucks on Will’s little cock. He swirls his tongue, and Will shivers like he’s a live wire in the open atmosphere; an open current with the voltage cranked to high. Mike rubs soothingly along Will’s waist, coaxing him, keeping him grounded, living in the perfect heat rolling from his skin. Will whines into Mike’s hand and wraps his legs around Mike’s neck, pulling him in closer, deeper. Mike responds by hollowing his cheeks further and giving him a particularly hard suck that has Will’s back arching off the bed and his hands wringing in the sheets. With his free hand, Mike snatches one of Will’s and brings it up to his own head. Will instantly kneads his fingers into Mike’s dark curls, and the next time Will moans softly and tugs, Mike’s eyes flutter with pleasure from the passionate pains. He hums around Will’s cock, and that’s all it takes for Will, radiating heat with shaking thighs, to come undone under Mike’s touch, his warm, wet tongue. With a final squeaking moan captured by Mike’s tight palm, he sucks Will through his dry orgasm until the little boy goes still, muscles buzzing like a bee, fingers twisting and knotting in Mike’s hair. Will falls slack, panting heavily.

It only took a couple minutes for Will to orgasm, but Mike feels it deep in his soul that they have been the best moments to happen in weeks.

Mike pulls off Will’s softening, sensitive cock for the final time. He grins, satisfied, and crawls up over top of Will’s sweet, young, pleasured body. Will’s eyes are closed, cheeks flushed bright red, mousy brown hair mussed over his forehead, and a gorgeous bright smile revealing his pearly bunny teeth. Mike noses around his ear, then whispers, “How was that, baby? Did you like it?”

Will shifts, then looks away with a blush and rising grin full of childish joy. Head turned away, nods into his shoulder. Mike peppers kisses along the side of Will’s exposed neck. His lips run up and down from his ear to the base of his throat, until Will’s a giggly mess under Mike’s ministrations. Mike smiles warmly, then cups Will’s cheek. He brings Will’s attention back to him; Mike and only Mike. Will’s smile falls into one that’s small and sincere. He stares at Mike with open, adoring eyes. Mike kisses the tip of Will’s nose.

“I liked it too,” Mike whispers.

Will’s lashes bounce, eyes beaming with delight. His lips pull and twist at the corners as he tries and fails to hold back his big smile. Mike laughs, then he rises and sits up on the bed next to Will. Mike pushes himself up to the headboard, and Will rises halfway, twisting to face him.

Mike purses his lips. He looks Will’s nude body up and down, then gestures with his index finger, curling it, beckoning Will to come forth. Mike spreads his legs until the space is wide enough for Will to fit between. Timidly, Will crawls on his hands and knees across the bed. Mike’s excitement rises as he admires Will’s hips swaying while he crawls closer. Will stops a foot in front Mike with a curious turn to his lips, then sits back on his heels. He blinks up at Mike, obedient and waiting.

Holding Will’s gaze, Mike bites his bottom lip. He fiddles with the button of his pants, thumbing around it. He looks to the door. The flimsy chair holding it in place. They’ve already been gone for at least fifteen minutes, if not longer. Mike thinks he can hear the murmurs of dinner conversation, content laughs from around the table as they converse. How much more time did they have?

Mike pops the button.

They had enough time. That’s what matters. They will have enough time.

Mike pulls down the zipper.

“Come here, baby,” he murmurs.

Will sidles closer on his knees. Mike takes a hold of Will’s chin, then guides his face down, directing Will’s gaze to Mike’s erection straining against his grey boxers. A wet splotch spreads across the front as Mike leaks precum. He wishes Will would drink it, drink all of it, suck him down to the root—

Mike pats Will’s shoulder then gently pushes him down. Will meets Mike’s eyes once more before sinking down and settling on his bare stomach, propping himself up on his elbows. He watches Mike’s fingers dip into the waistband of his boxers as he pulls them down. Mike reaches a hand inside and tugs out his leaking cock. It stands tall, begging for attention, and leans against his belly. He shifts on the bed, spreading his legs a little wider and sitting back farther. Will watches him with wide-eyed, nervous curiosity. Mike bites the insides of his cheeks, holding back a rakish grin, and wraps his hand around the base of his cock, angling it towards Will.

“Put it in your mouth,” Mike says.

Will’s lips fall open into an “o”. Mike is instantly reminded of his matching look of surprise from Halloween, and all of his ensuing fantasies.

“My… my mouth?” Will squeaks.

“Yeah, just like I did for you,” Mike explains. “You wanna make me feel good too, right?”

“Oh, um, okay.” Will shifts a little closer, eyeing Mike’s cock. He blinks and nods quickly. “Um, yeah. I do.” He looks up to Mike with consternation. “Uh, how?”

Mike chuckles. He gives himself a quick stroke from base to tip, spreading his precum down his length. He stops at the base and tilts himself towards Will again.

“Just put your lips on me,” Mike coaxes. He sneaks a glance at the door. “Come on.”

Will gives him one last nervous look before refocusing his attention on Mike’s erection. He reaches out one of his small hands and grasps Mike in the middle. Will’s hand is searingly warm, pulsing like fire where he touches. Mike bites his lip. Will leans in, closing the last few inches between his lips and Mike’s tip, and wraps his lips around the head.

Mike sighs. The relief is immediate, but Will’s tentative tongue poking over his slit, teasing his glans, is pure torment. He needs more.

“That’s good, Will.” Mike strokes Will’s hair as he continues to lick and tease. “You gotta—suck on it, like a lollipop, baby.”

Will gives a minute nod before sinking an inch lower on Mike’s cock, sucking him into his hot little mouth.

“Unh, good, yeah, now bob up and down, and—hahh!” Mike interrupts himself with a breathy groan as Will obediently does as he’s instructed, and it is heaven. He resists from bucking his hips, willing himself to stay torturously still. Will makes such a pretty picture with his red, slick lips wrapped around Mike’s cock. He tangles his long fingers in Will’s hair. “Yes, Will. God, keep doing that.”

Will bobs his head again, trying to maintain suction. He’s only taking Mike in a couple inches, but it’s still good. It’s not like nestling his cock up in Will’s ass, but there’s something to the debauched look of Will’s small mouth wrapped around his cock, spit and precum dripping down his chin, that makes it just as arousing.

Will’s sharp baby teeth nick the head of his cock. Mike gasps in pain and squeezes Will’s shoulder.

“Will.” Mike pulls him off, tangling his long fingers in Will’s hair. With his neck crooked back, Will looks up at him with fearful, worried eyes.

Mike relaxes his hold on Will, moving to cup his cheeks in both hands. “Sorry, baby,” Mike rubs his thumbs along his cheekbones. “You shocked me. No teeth, okay? They don’t make me feel good.”

Will blinks rapidly. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he mumbles sadly. His bottom lip quivers.

Mike’s face falls with concern, brows pulling together. “No, no, no, Will, it’s okay, you’re doing so well,” he soothes. “So well. You are, you’re just learning. It’s okay,” he whispers. His voice is soft and light as he aims to ease the young boy back into security. He’s so sensitive, Mike can’t help but want to hold and protect him.

Mike rubs his cheeks and smiles. “Try again, I’ll tell you more of what to do.”

Will nods, his previous sadness retreating, and sets his expression back into one of determination. With a final glance up at Mike, who gestures encouragingly, Will dives back in. He sucks on Mike’s tip, then moves his head down, taking Mike farther than last time.

Mike groans. “That’s it. You’re good at this, Will.” He twines his fingers in Will’s hair. “Suck a little harder, baby. Hollow out your cheeks, like you’re—oh fuck!” Mike slaps his hand over his mouth to hold back a loud moan. Will is small, but the amount of suction he can provide is intense. Combined with the heat of his mouth, how his spit coats Mike’s hard dick, and just the fact that this is Will, with his pretty pink lips, his big doe eyes, his perfect beauty mark, suckling on Mike’s cock so sweetly—it’s the best feeling ever.

“Yeah, just like that. Go as deep as you can,” Mike encourages, somewhat desperate for more suction, more feeling, as he cups the back of Will’s head and pushes him to go deeper. Will sucks in about an extra half inch before it hits the back of his throat. Will gags, pulling back up to the tip, and eyes Mike nervously.

Mike bites his lip, feeling a pang of disappointment, but he shakes it off. Will is just too small.

“It’s okay, Will. You can use your hand at the bottom, see?” Mike picks up one of Will’s hands and curls it around the base of his spit-slick dick. Will suckles absent-mindedly on the tip, flicking his tongue and tasting in the slit teasingly as understanding dawns on him. He begins to pump his hand. Mike releases a pleased sigh.

“Yeah, see? Come on back down. Bob your head and move your hand at the same time,” he instructs. When Will does as told, Mike shuts his eyes, throws his head back and moans into his palm. He’s not going to last long. Will’s soft tongue brushes the bottom of his cock, flattening and twitching, while the head rubs against the hard ridges of his mouth, butting lightly into his soft palate. Will whimpers softly as he sucks wetly, and when Mike cards his fingers in Will’s hair and rubs his nails along the scalp, Will moans. The vibration adds a whole new level to the fire in his belly. His cock throbs, heating up to match the burn in his cheeks. Will gulps loudly around his length, and Mike can’t stop his whimper. He bucks his hips slightly into Will’s mouth, then clutches the headboard tightly. It’s taking all of Mike’s self-control to not fuck into the tight channel of his throat.

Mike wishes he could draw this out—he’d teach Will properly, get him to relax and suck Mike down to the root. He wants to be inside Will longer—forever, if he could. He wishes he could touch and kiss him everywhere, have Will stuffed full of him and moaning, make him see stars in every color of the rainbow, listen to him begging and pleading for Mike to make him feel the ecstasy only he can give.

But this isn’t reality today. Will’s still learning, and Mike doesn’t have the time to teach him. Not today. Mike sneaks his fingers farther through the fluff of Will’s soft hair. A quick blowjob exchange is as good as it is going to get tonight.

Mike shoots the door a nervous glance, and as Will sucks and bobs obediently on his cock, he feels an unexpected thread of excitement race through him. Anyone could walk in on them. They could be interrupted any second—all it would take is one person wondering where they are and why they’ve been gone so long. They could walk into Will’s room and Mike’s life could be over, just like that. He’s fucking their son, their brother, their friend, and they have no idea. Mike’s heart thuds erratically as a bolt of electricity strikes him at the thought. He muffles his groan by biting his lip, then reaches down to cup Will’s jaw. He curls his fingers and holds tight to Will’s hair, then forces his head to move faster. Will starts making little whining, choking noises that only provoke Mike to move him faster, pull him down a little deeper. He’s rushing them, but he still takes the time to appreciate how sexy Will looks on his cock.

Hand interwoven in Will’s hair, pulling him back and forth, he runs a needy, searching hand down Will’s back. He finds purchase on Will’s ass and gives him a squeeze. Will moans, and the vibrations ring out through his cock, sending shudders through Mike’s bones.

“Oh, fuck, Will. Love all the cute noises you make. You’re so pretty like this, sucking on my cock.” Mike stifles a groan. He bites his bottom lip, watching Will suck and slurp him down. “Good boy. So hungry for it, aren’t you?” Mike can’t help but imagine what it would be like, to really fuck into Will’s throat. He wishes they were truly alone—all the things they could do. Mike bites his lip harder.

It’d be so easy, too…

Mike shakes his head. Will is delicate. He’s new to this. Mike’s being restrained, taking his time and teaching Will properly. Not just thrusting into him like some animal. He’s is doing Will a favor. Mike is not an animal.

He watches Will bounce his head up and down, sucking him in while stroking him in tandem, and imagines shoving his cock deep down Will’s throat; Will completely sank down, nose in his dark curly pubic hair, and blinking up at Mike as he swallows around his length; what it would look like to see his cock bulging in Will’s pretty little throat as he fucked in and out of his hot, wet channel. All the little gasping, choking sounds Will would be helpless to release, the moans he’d let out as he was filled up with cum.

Mike’s mouth is watering, and it's such a tantalizing idea that it feels like he’s been possessed by a stronger, primal force. His large hands grip around the base of Will’s head and guide him down deeper. Mike bucks his hips, fucking into Will’s mouth, until his tip butts at Will’s epiglottis and just slips past the tight ring of muscle. Mike moans softly and bites his tongue as Will chokes, gagging and convulsing, as he rejects and tries to dislodge Mike’s cock from his throat. Will’s hand slips off his shaft, and he braces himself against Mike’s hip.

Mike is mindless, lost to his pleasure and nearing his climax as he holds Will’s head and forces his cock back down Will’s throat. A tight knot forms in the pit of his stomach, aching to release. The extra squeeze around the head of his cock has Mike gasping, and all he can think of next is ramming his cock down to the root and cumming down Will’s throat, forcing him to swallow it all.

The next moment, Mike is doing just as he wished. He shoves his entire cock deep into Will’s mouth, managing to pull him down just shy of the base. Mike groans. He’s only has few more thrusts before he reaches his peak—but it’s too much for the young boy, who chokes and manages to wriggle free of Mike’s slackening hands. Will gags as he pulls off of Mike’s cock completely, his slight body convulsing with hacking coughs.

But Mike is so close, he just needs a little more—

Mike takes one of Will’s hands, limp in his spluttering, and wraps it back around his cock. Mike completely encircles and covers Will’s small hand, then pumps them together in rapid succession. It’s just what he needs. Will coughs into his other hand and tries to catch his breath, letting Mike have his way as he recovers.

Mike builds back up to his climax, cock pulsing under their joined hands. His feet crawl up the bed, knees bending and legs contorting. Mike’s voice gets pathetically high-pitched. “Ah, Will, I’m so close, just—” He hums, then sighs. He’d be more embarrassed if it were around anyone else.

Mike’s eyebrows pull together. “Oh, fuck, Will!” he moans, biting down a loud whine. He shakes and jerks himself faster, hand running up and down his length. Heat builds in his stomach and pulses in his dick, then it all comes to a head—Mike tenses, balls tightening, and he shoots his load over Will’s face, yelping and whining as quietly as he can as the wild orgasmic pleasure overtakes him. Mike sighs as cum sprays from his cock. Will shuts his eyes as it coats his brow, cheek, and mouth, trailing down his face.

Mike blinks away the sparkles in his hazy, blissed-out vision. He shivers all over, wrung out from the best orgasm since Halloween. Mike turns down to see Will, where milky, sticky cum drips over his shocked lips. The boy blinks his dark lashes slowly, heavy with Mike’s semen. Mike pants, wringing out the last of his orgasm. He slowly strokes himself through it, milking his cock. The final drops of cum drip over his knuckles.

“Sorry baby, just—so good—”

With a heavy sigh, Mike collapses back onto the bed. He throws back his head and closes his eyes. He takes large breathes through his mouth, smiling lazily. He floats back down to earth, cock softening outside his boxers. It feels awkwardly wet. Mike huffs. He cracks open his eyes to deal with the mess only to see Will, looking quite shocked and flushed bright red. He’s blinking rapidly and clutching onto the bedsheets, splayed out and unmoving. Mike’s eyes fly wide open and he scrambles up closer to Will.

“Shit! Will, I’m so sorry! I—” Mike looks around his room for something to clean Will up with. He snatches up the tissue box next to Will’s bed and rips out a couple. He looks down to his crotch and gives himself a quick wipe before tucking himself inside, then turns his attention to the stunned Will. It occurs to Mike, as he gently takes Will’s chin in hand and directs his soaked face up, that Will has never actually seen cum before. He’s too young to make any himself, and he would have only ever felt it inside him when they fooled around last month. Mike swipes a clean tissue over his eyelids and gently around his watering eyes, cleaning off his beautiful lashes. Mike purses his lips, feeling a pang of shame and worry flood his heart. He wipes down Will’s cheeks, brushing the tissue gently over his delicate skin. Mike cocks his head in consideration, then gathers up the last drops of cum from the corner of Will’s lips. Will’s eyes are closed, fluttering slightly as he breaths heavily. Mike presses his thumb against the seam of Will’s lips, and as if on instinct, he sucks Mike’s thumb into his mouth.

Mike groans softly at the sight, moving his thumb along Will’s tongue until he swallows. Mike grins, then plucks his thumb from Will’s mouth with a soft pop. The sound rouses Will, who blinks up at Mike. Mike’s smile drops when he sees Will’s red eyes. He cups Will’s cheek in one hand and sighs sadly.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs. He gazes at Will’s watery irises for a moment, before tearing them away. He stands and disposes of the tissues in the waste bin in the corner of Will’s room.

Mike immediately returns to Will’s side. He strokes his cheek again, then sighs.

He let himself get carried away. He shouldn’t have done that.

“You did a really good job, baby. I’m sorry if that was a lot for you.” Mike dips his head and curls his shoulders, lowering himself down to Will’s level. He gently hoists Will up by his waist until he’s sitting before Mike. “You’re just so pretty, Will, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Mike presses their foreheads together. Will closes his eyes with a small exhale. Mike continues. “It’s like, I just needed to be inside your mouth. I like you so, so much. You know that, right, baby?” Mike kisses Will’s forehead, tilting his head up. Will’s eyes open, shimmering and wondering, and meet Mike’s. He doesn’t look scared anymore, Mike notices, releasing a soft sigh of relief.

They stare at each other a long moment, before, slowly, Will nods his head in agreement.

Mike beams down at him. “Yeah,” he continues, encouraged, “You’re so amazing, Will.” Mike tilts Will’s head up higher and cranes his own neck down to press their lips together. The kiss is slow and sweet, lingering on each other’s lips without haste. Mike pulls away with a soft click and a small smile. Gradually, Will smiles back at him.

“Aww, Will.” Mike rubs their noses together. “You’re so cute, baby. You’re the best little boy for doing this with me, you know that?” Mike kisses his cheek. Will giggles quietly, shoulders raising up to his ears as he squirms playfully in Mike’s grasp. Mike chuckles and kisses his other cheek. “So special, Will. So special to me—and I’m so lucky I get to have you. Just my special little boy, all to myself like this.” Mike peppers quick, playful kisses along Will’s jaw up to the corner of his lips. Will grabs at the front of Mike’s hoodie and pulls him closer, drawing his small, nude body further into Mike’s willing embrace. Mike kisses his lips once more as he wraps his arms around Will’s middle, reeling him in.

Eventually, Mike stops, both for a proper breath and because he felt Will’s shoulders shiver. Mike looks him up and down—he wishes Will never had to wear clothes around him—but this is a family home, and it’s autumn, no less.

“Are you cold, Will?” Mike asks gently. He rubs Will’s upper back.

Will tips his head. “Um, a little bit. But your hands are warm,” Will says simply. His voice is scratchy, and he touches at his neck curiously. Mike winces and rubs his shoulders. Will gently clears his throat before leaning in closer to Mike’s chest, gazing up with his adorable doe eyes. Will’s hands wander up and wrap around Mike’s collar. Mike grins and bundles Will up in his arms, then in a flash, he’s bridal carrying a happy, giggly Will.

Mike ducks his nose to Will’s chest and gives him a final, warm kiss just below his collarbones, before setting him down on the carpet, upright on his small feet.

“Now, we’ve got to get you dressed.” Mike swivels around the room. “Umm—”

Will walks over to his dresser and pats it. “Mom helps me pick out clothes.”

Mike nods. “Yeah, ‘course, and—” he bends to pick up Will’s discarded underwear. “Uh, these are still clean,” he says with a sheepish smile.

Mike helps Will choose new clothes, speeding them along as he eyes the door and its rickety makeshift lock. He really did get too carried away—was too careless—what was he thinking? He could have been caught—his entire life, done, in the blink of an eye. Mike helps Will into his new sweater, a light blue knit with white stripes. Mike’s heart is pounding. He hurries Will into a new pair of dark jeans, then slips on his striped socks, and finally, let’s out a deep, relieved sigh. He tosses the door one last careless look, and laughs with relief. He sits on the bed heavily and holds his face in his hands.

This was so stupid. This is so stupid. Mike can’t believe he let his desire for Will get the better of him. He’s been so pent-up these past weeks that just laying eyes on Will was enough to shift his centre of gravity. He’s been so worried about losing Will and all the joy that goes with him. It was irrational. It was impulsive.

It was amazing.

Mike regrets nothing.

He got away with it, didn’t he?

He feels a tap on his wrist. He moves his hands to meet Will’s curious and concerned eyes.

Mike smiles fondly at him. He catches Will’s wrist and pulls his hand up to hold between his own.

“I’m okay,” Mike reassures. “I’m great, actually.” He leans in and kisses Will’s cheek, reeling the boy in by his hand. Will giggles and squirms to the side as Mike continues to pepper his sweet face with kisses, tilting his head and shrugging his shoulders to ward off Mike’s affections. Mike just can’t stop kissing him. Every time he looks at Will he’s completely overcome with the want, the need, to shower him in affection. He never wants to stop.

“That tickles!” Will exclaims. He bounces forward and into Mike’s arms. Mike wraps him up in a big hug, holding him close and breathing in his neck. He sighs contently, feeling Will buzz with excitement and joy up against him.

Gradually, Mike disentangles himself from Will, pulling back enough to gaze upon him fondly and rub his small shoulders.

“How about you show me all your drawings now, Will?” Mike suggests. Since they’ve been gone so long, they would need a realistic cover story. And besides, Mike likes Will’s art. He wants Will to know how much he appreciates his creative talent.

Will lights up. “Yeah!” he cries enthusiastically. “Come on!” It’s Will’s turn to grab Mike around the wrist. He hauls Mike forward, and Mike stands and lets himself be dragged around by the enthusiastic boy to his cluttered desk.

Will pats the top of his desk excitedly and points to a drawing of a dragon. He starts rambling on and on about the different characters he’s drawn and why, and what colors he used, all the while clutching Mike’s hand and holding him close. Mike glances at the drawings Will is fixated on, but Mike’s attention is entirely on the sweet apple of his eye.

“You’re an amazing artist, Will,” Mike compliments, entirely honest.

Will snaps his head up to Mike. He beams and bounces on his toes. Mike snickers, and kisses the top of his head.

“Come on, we should go back now. Wanna show these to everyone else too? I know they’ll love them.” Maybe they wouldn’t appreciate them as much as Mike could—he didn’t think it was even possible—but they would tell Will so nevertheless. Will deserves all the praise the world can offer.

“Yeah!” Will scoops up a few of his favorites, and the two head hand in hand to the door.

Mike eyes the chair still tucked under the handle. He sighs. He grabs it and sets it aside, but as his palm rests on the handle, he feels a gentle, swinging tug on his captured hand. Mike looks down to Will gazing up at him with gleefully. Will tugs him again, pulling down with his hand in Mike’s and with his other wrapped around Mike’s wrist. Mike smiles, endeared, and crouches to Will’s level.

“What? What is it, baby?” Mike whispers playfully.

Will pulls Mike’s hand to his chest and shifts his weight from foot to foot with an anxious, determined energy. He looks up and down from Mike’s face to the carpet several times. Finally, his eyes land on Mike’s lips. Mike quirks a brow, curiously intrigued.

Before Mike can wonder for long, Will leans in and softly presses his lips to Mike’s. Will’s eyes slide shut and Mike’s flutter closed. It only lasts a couple seconds before Will is pulling away with a soft click. Mike opens his eyes to Will’s bashful smile and pretty pink blush. Mike laughs giddily.

“Aww, Will!” Mike exclaims softly. “Sweet boy…” he murmurs. He cups Will’s cheek. The kiss was a pleasant surprise. Will has never been the first to initiate anything between them before.

Mike thinks that might just be the cutest, purest kiss he’s experienced in his life. He sighs dreamily. He truly is winning Will over. There’s really so much to be grateful for.

Mike gives Will a big, unrestrained smile. He kisses Will in the middle of his forehead with a loud, affectionate smack. Will giggles. Mike just wants to pinch his plump round cheeks and wrap him up in the biggest hug and hold him forever, keep his little boy safe and warm and his.

But they don’t have that luxury. Mike sighs, staring down at Will’s doe eyes wistfully. Will twiddles with his drawings, the corners curling as he fusses with them. He’s irresistibly cute when he’s excited.

With a final sober smile, Mike painfully rips his gaze away and reaches for the brass door handle.

His hand never makes contact. The door flies open and Mike instantly meets the surprised brown eyes of none other than Will’s older brother, Jonathan, standing just a foot away with his hand on the door handle.

Mike gapes, feet rooted to the spot. He’s frozen.

Jonathan is—Jonathan is here. He just—opened the door. Mike’s heart thuds violently against his ribs. Nothing would have stopped him from seeing—there wasn’t a lock; there would have been no warning. Mike only used a stupid, flimsy kid’s chair wedged under the handle to stop the door. Mike blinks. He swallows heavily. Jonathan could have opened the door a moment sooner and caught him, and he would have unlocked the door to Mike’s deepest secret and his darkest desire; he would have caught him and Will in the act doing—all kinds of sinful things—and poof, just like that, that’s the end of Mike Wheeler. Game over.

Mike drops Will’s hand like it burns. He shoves his hands behind his back and knots his fingers together until the skin pulls almost painfully at his knuckles. Jonathan and Mike stare at each other for a long moment. Will turns his head between the two curiously before Jonathan breaks the silence with a meek wave.

“Uh, hey. I was just coming to check when you guys were coming back.” He motions with his thumb over his shoulder. “Everyone’s finished eating and we’re just hanging out in the living room. I think your dad’s wanting to head out.” He shrugs. “He looks pretty tired.”

Mike knows he should say something. He needs to say something, in fact, in order to save his ass, his secrets, his future, his whole life, his entire passionate affair with Will. He needs to say something, anything—but for the literal life of him, he can’t. All Mike can do is open and close his mouth like a stunned goldfish.

He feels Will tap his thigh, but Mike’s eyes are stuck on Jonathan’s expression gradually dimming with concern.

Mike blinks rapidly. He swallows drily and looks away from Will’s brother’s piercing gaze and down to the soft, concerned gaze of Will. His Will.

“Yeah,” Mike wheezes. He clears his throat and looks back to Jonathan. “Yeah. He’s always tired.”

What the fuck was that?

“Oh. Okay.” Jonathan shifts on his feet awkwardly.

Mike doesn’t know what to say anymore. Forming that sentence took everything he had.

“So…” Jonathan starts, but he’s interrupted by his little brother.

“Jonathan, look!” Will says, drawing the attention of his brother. He holds up one of his drawings and waves it proudly yet gently, like a flag in the wind.

Will is Mike’s saviour.

“What’s that, bud?” Jonathan asks with a kind smile.

“My drawings! I’ve been showing Mike all of my drawings and toys this whole time, because I have so many, and Mike really likes my drawings,” Will says in a rush. He grins widely.

Mike exhales, and it’s the release of a dam, stopper removed unplugged tub. Everything rushes out all at once in pure relief. Will—what a smart little boy. Mike doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful for another human being’s perceptive nature before. He smiles. This is it—he’s finally, truly won Will over. No more distant looks, no more wavering—Will is really his.

“Uh, yeah!” Mike chimes in. “Of course I do, Will. Your drawings are amazing. Thanks so much for showing me.” Mike and Will grin at each other, and as Jonathan’s attention is fixed on his brother, Mike winks. Will blushes and flutters his drawing.

Mike rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he starts, trying to play things off cool. “We got pretty caught up with Will’s art, and got a bit carried away.” He gestures aimlessly back to Will’s room without looking back, hoping desperately it looked put together enough. They really didn’t make that much of a mess, but Mike’s toes still curl up in his socks anxiously.

Jonathan nods and waves them both off. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t miss much. It’s mainly been our mom’s pulling the rest of us into conversation—but I’ve been getting to know Holly more, too. Your little sister is really nice.”

Mike grins. It feels genuine. “She is. Cool, thanks, man.” Mike turns abruptly to speak to Will. “Hey, wanna go show everyone else now? I know they’ll love them too.”

Will nods, and Jonathan encourages him, patting Will on the shoulder. “Yeah, come on, bud. Mike’s stolen you away for long enough.” Jonathan chuckles and turns, guiding Will along with him.

Mike laughs nervously, and maybe it’s a little too high-pitched, but Jonathan’s too focused on Will’s excited motions around his artwork to notice. He rocks on his feet a moment before grimacing. He pats the tops of his thighs anxiously, then follows after them. Mike takes deep breaths, calming down from his narrowly avoided panic attack. He still feels a little like his chest is caving in, but he’s no longer “ripping out hair with bloodshot eyes” freaking out.

So. That’s something.

Mike exhales and shuts his eyes as Will and Jonathan round the corner.

Holy fuck. That was way too close.

Back in the living room, their families are sitting on various couches and chairs. Joyce kindly greets the three boys and waves them back in. Will proudly holds up his drawings to his mom.

“Mom! Look! I showed Mike all my drawings, and I wanna show everyone else, too.”

Joyce smiles fondly, eyes crinkling in the corners. “That’s great, honey,” she coos. She strokes the fluff of his hair.

Will goes around to Karen, Nancy, and Holly, skipping over the bored and dead-tired Mr. Wheeler with a nervous glance. Mike thinks it a wise choice. The two Wheeler women are politely interested, complimenting Will and pointing out minor details they enjoy, to his great excitement, while Holly brightly exclaims her love of Will’s characters and chatters on with him about school art class.

Mike sits heavily on the couch and hunches over, watching the two little kids with his cheek on his fist, a soft smile grazing his lips. He sighs heavily.

Mike’s going to go home, flop on his bed, and try not to cry after this. It’s a long time coming.

After a bit, Will comes over to sit next to Mike. Holly has decidedly figured out that Jonathan is her new favorite person, and she’s hanging out his arm and nattering away in his ear. Jonathan doesn’t seem bothered—the opposite, in fact, as he gazes upon her kindly and nods along. Nancy, on his other side, watches her boyfriend and younger sister get along so well like a proud mother hen.

Will leans into Mike’s side. Mike shifts his arm up, allowing Will to tuck his knees up to Mike’s thigh and curl against him. He smiles up a Mike like a pleased, purring kitten. Mike feels a weight lift from his shoulders—feeling Will next to him, seeing his family get along with new friends. Maybe Thanksgiving isn’t so performative after all, not when it feels so warm like this.

It’s not long after that Karen announces, with a sharp pat to her seated thighs, that they best be off for the night—it’s getting late, and Holly has her bedtime. Joyce agrees with a big nod and understanding smile, echoing the same sentiment for Will. The two young kids are cutely upset about the mention of their bedtimes. Holly clings to Jonathan and rests her head on his shoulder. When she likes someone, she goes all out. There’s not a shy bone in her body. Will huddles up to Mike with a quiet sigh, accepting of his fate.

Mike gently pets his hair, giving him a quick, gentle ruffle.

“Hey,” Mike starts kindly. “I’ll see you again sometime, yeah?”

Will rests his head on Mike’s side and nods. “Yeah.”

Mike chuckles. “Okay. Walk me to the door?”

Will nods again, then scoots to the floor. He grabs Mike’s wrist and pulls him with an impish grin. Mike chuckles and rises. Will lets go of his wrist. Mike wishes he could hold his hand.

As the Wheeler’s collect their jackets and put on their boots, Karen leads them in giving their thanks to the Byers for generously hosting them this Thanksgiving, and for a wonderful dinner. Her children echo the sentiment, and as does Ted after his wife elbows him in the ribs. Mike catches Nancy and Jonathan discreetly share a chaste kiss. Mike looks down sourly.

The Wheeler’s begin to file out one by one, but not before Will can squeak out a quick, “Wait!”

Mike turns. He’s the last to leave. He stops with his feet half out the doorframe, teetering on the edge of the cozy warmth of the Byers household and the frigid autumn chill. Will bounds down the hall he and Mike walked earlier, turning the corner quickly. A few moments later, he springs back into sight with a flimsy sheet of paper clutched delicately to his chest. He skids to a stop in front of Mike and reaches out to tug at his sleeve. Mike crouches down to Will’s eye level, giving him his full attention.

Will bites his bottom lip, then extends the paper out to Mike. Mike looks down at it curiously and gently takes it from him. He carefully looks it over, smiling as he does. It’s a drawing of Mike and Will walking side by side in their Halloween costumes, Mike as a black wolf and Will as a white kitten. Will has a large bag of candy he’s hauling behind him, and in the distance, three little figures can be seen fleeing the picture. Both Mike and Will have large, happy smiles on their faces as they traverse under the moon and stars. With Will’s age, it’s a basic drawing with some wobbly lines, disproportioned figures, and block coloring, but Mike knows Will is a great artist. Mike beams at it. He thinks it’s brilliant.

“Will, this is amazing!” Mike praises.

Will blushes. “It’s for you.”

Mike melts, directing the full force of his loving puppy dog eyes on Will.

“Thank you,” he whispers earnestly.

Then, Will rushes into his chest for a hug, wrapping his arms tight around Mike’s shoulders. Mike squawks quietly, nearly knocked over from his teetering crouch, a moment away from landing on his ass on the cold porch. He stabilizes himself with a chuckle, then gently wraps his arms around Will, reciprocating his chaste, family-friendly embrace enough as is appropriate. Mike quickly glances to Joyce and Jonathan to check their reaction. Mike feels instant relief and knows he’s in the clear when Joyce is smiling, teary-eyed with her fingers pressed to her lips, and Jonathan is wearing an amused grin.

Mike laughs once lightly, pats Will on the back, and reluctantly pulls away from Will’s sweetness. Will lets him go, then backs up and stands in between Joyce and Jonathan, clinging onto Jonathan’s pant leg and leaning against him. Mike rises, looking at Will’s gift and feeling oddly, but not surprisingly, light and fluttery in his stomach.

“Thanks,” Mike echoes softly, looking at Will. He snaps his head up and clears his throat. “Again. Um. Thank you for having me. All—all of you. Yeah, I’ll—” Mike motions to the open door. “Don’t wanna let the cold in. Bye!”

Mike leaves with a wave and strained toothy smile. He cringes as soon as he shuts the door behind him. Why did he have to be so awkward? The embarrassment hurts, but Mike feels—he feels happy. He walks with a pep in his step down the driveway, glancing down at the drawing every few steps. He cherishes Will’s gift. He’s grateful for everything Will has given him.

As Mike piles into his respective seat in the Wheeler’s family car, Will’s drawing held up reverently and away from any possible damaging, grabby hands of his sisters, he thoughtfully reflects.

Mike knows Will is the best thing to ever happen to him. Meeting him, becoming his friend, having his as his lover, is the best choice he’s ever made.

Mike knows, that if Will lets him, just lets him in… Mike can be the best thing to happen to Will, too.