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Will wakes up to the sensation of being fucked but he’s groggy so he thinks it’s just a wet dream but holy fuck it feels so real? He’s drowning in the pleasure but tries swimming to the surface of his consciousness.
He dives deep into his thoughts, trying to remember where he is and who he’s with. He thinks maybe he should be frightened; he’s either having an embarrassing sex dream or someone’s actually—
Someone gasps out a very real moan right above his face, and Will’s heart stops.
He knows that voice. He knows it as if it were his own. Everything comes crashing down on him as he remembers.
He remembers coming back to Hawkins yesterday. The distressed discussions of sleeping arrangements. He remembers climbing a very familiar set of stairs into an even more familiar bedroom. Climbing into a bed next to…
Will’s eyes fly open and it’s all he can do not to moan at the sight that greets him.
Mike is above him—shirtless!—and his eyes are shut softly in pleasure. He’s moving against Will and his movements are rough yet tender. His dark curls are bouncing gently around his freckled shoulders with each thrust. His bottom lip is now trapped between his teeth, possibly a result from the slip up a few moments ago.
He looks positively criminal.
Will’s mind immediately floods with an onslaught of thoughts.
First, Mike is fucking him.
Second, Mike is fucking him! And god it feels incredible. It makes Will aware of how needy he feels. He’s torn between yelling at Mike and grabbing his cock to get some relief.
He should be yelling at Mike.
Asking him what the fuck is wrong with him. Why he thinks it’s okay to just rape Will in his sleep! For him to stop and leave Will alone.
For him to keep going, faster and harder. Crying out how good Mike’s making him feel.
With that in mind, Will keeps both eyes glued to Mike’s face as he reaches down to grip his cock. He immediately has to bite back a moan as he begins roughly stroking himself. He does his best as well to move his hips in time with Mike’s and meet his thrusts, but it’s pretty sloppy.
Mike, however, doesn’t seem to mind as he releases his lip to let out the most intoxicating noise Will’s ever heard. He still doesn’t open his eyes, though, and part of Will wonders if he’s asleep himself.
Wouldn’t that be great. Mike having a wet dream and fucking the only available person in his sleep while he imagines it’s El… The thought physically repulses Will and makes him flinch. But he’s already too far into this to care about Mike’s intentions. It feels too good to care.
Mike’s hips begin to move against him faster and his breathing becomes quick and erratic. He grunts softly and digs his fingernails into Will’s hips hard enough to hurt, but it only increases Will’s own pleasure. He cups his free hand over his mouth and pumps himself harder as they both climb higher and higher. Mike’s face scrunches up as he rolls his hips one last time, before his features smoothen out and he breathes out a faint, “Will.”
Already close to climax, hearing his own name in such a blissed out tone—in Mike’s voice—has Will coming undone. His entire body curls into the pleasure and he goes limp, hand falling to his stomach.
“Mike,” he whispers into the quiet room, not sure if it was an accident or a conscious decision.
He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, though, because Mike’s eyes blink open and lock onto his own. His face goes through every expression before settling on absolute terror.
“W-Will?!” he looks around for a moment as if dazed. He looks nothing short of a guy on the verge of a panic attack. “W-what…?”
Mike looks down and takes in their position. He’s still inside Will. He looks a bit sick. His eyes travel slowly up Will’s body until he’s back to staring at Will’s face. “Did we… Did—Did I…?”
Will’s not sure what expression his own face is making but he hopes he’s schooling his own terror and shame. “Um… Well, you kind o—”
“Oh my god!”
Will winces as Mike forces himself out of him and tumbles backward off the bed.
“I did this? To you? I fu… I—you? Ohmygod!” Mike’s eyes are wide and his entire body is shaking as he kneels on the floor by the opposite side of the bed, clutching the sheets with a white-knuckled grip. “I am so sorry, Will! Oh, god. Ohgodohgodohgod.”
“Mike, hey, breathe.”
When Will shifts to move from the mattress, he becomes hyperaware of himself. His ass hurts, for one. He realizes now that he was caught up in his own taboo pleasure to notice before. But clearly Mike hadn’t used lube since—well.
And the marks on his hips sting from where Mike sank his nails into him. He’s also aware of how his sleep shorts and boxers are tangled together between his thighs. Mike must’ve somehow pulled them aside when he…
Mike’s right… Oh, God!
“Mike,” he repeats, despite his own panic setting in. “Come on, buddy, breathe.”
Will winces at his choice of words. Buddy, he thinks. Really, Byers? Stupid!
He moves closer to the edge of the bed, slower this time; and sinks down next to Mike, who’s got his head in his knees and his hands clawing against his scalp.
Tentatively, Will reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. “Mike?”
When he’s met with only silence, broken only faintly by the sniff of tears, Will decides to push harder. “Hey, um… I’m not—I’m not mad, if y-you’re not mad.”
He feels, rather than sees, the slow intake of breath through Mike’s shoulder; but still no response.
He rubs his thumb over Mike’s skin in what he hopes is a soothing gesture. “Are you… Are you mad?”
And that’s what does it. Mike’s head shoots up from between his knees, and he looks over at Will with features he almost doesn’t even recognize.
“Mad?” he asks. “Why would I be—” He laughs, a humorless puff of air. “Will, I basically raped you! How are you not furious with me?” He shakes his head, brows coming together in a disgusted pout. “I’m not—Could never be… Not when—”
“Hey, shhh. It’s okay, Mike. Really.”
“Nothing about this is okay!” Mike stresses. “I never should have… You shouldn’t be here!”
“Oh.” Will’s hand drops from his shoulder, and Mike immediately backtracks.
“No, wait! That’s not how I—” He scrubs at his face. “I just mean that… I don’t know, Will. I’m just so fucking sorry.”
He’s looking at Will now and, even in the near pitch black room, Will can almost see each emotion swirling around those desert brown eyes. “I’m sorry, too, Mike.”
Mike cocks his head to the side, making him look like a confused kitten. “For what? You’re not the one who—”
“But I did,” Will says. “You were asleep, too, Mike. And I didn’t…” Will feels his cheeks flush in shame and embarrassment. “I didn’t stop you.”
“But—”
“It goes both ways.” Will reaches up to find Mike’s shoulder again. “We need to talk about it. But can we please do it in the bed?” Will’s eyes widen, and he automatically tightens his grip on Mike in a pleading manner. “I mean, talk! C-can we t-talk in the—I just mean—” Will wants to drown. “My ass hurts!” he says, far too loud in the quiet room. “I-I just want to be somewhere more comfortable than sitting on the floor, is what I—um, mean.”
Mike’s face is scrunched up in too many emotions for Will to properly read in his anxious state. He snatches his hand away like it burns and scrambles up to bed; immediately regretting his hastiness as his asshole stings.
“Um, here,” Will whispers and tosses Mike his shirt.
“T-thanks,” he hears in response.
When Mike climbs into the bed beside him, Will does his best to curl into himself. It’s been a weird night, and they have a lot to talk about.