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The first time Will Byers sees Mike Wheeler in three long years is at his brother’s wedding rehearsal.
It’s spring 1995, two years after Will graduated from university. He’s currently sharing an apartment in New York with his boyfriend of four months. His name is Carl. Will met him at a downtown bar while out for drinks with his work friends. He’s pretty. Funny. Tall. Nice enough to introduce to his mom.
Jonathan had insisted that Will bring him to the rehearsal so he could finally meet the family. Will thinks it’s too soon. Yes, they live together, but it’s more out of convenience than anything else. They were already in the same building anyway, and New York rent is expensive.
“You should’ve still brought him,” Jonathan tells him as they make their way to the dining room, where the majority of the guests are already waiting.
“Next time, promise.” Will says, a small smile on his lips.
When he finally steps into the room, he glances around, not looking for anyone in particular. Except perhaps Nancy. He should probably say hi. It’s been too long since his last visit.
He’s about to sit down in his designated place next to his brother when he feels someone’s eyes on him. He can smell the perfume before he even sees him. The same one Mike used to wear years ago. A scratchy feeling rises in his throat, and for a second he thinks that if he inhales too sharply, the scent will undo him, sending all those careful years of trying to move on down the drain.
Still, he lifts his head.
He makes eye contact with Mike.
His best friend. Or his ex-best friend. Will isn’t sure where they stand anymore.
Mike looks older but heartbreakingly familiar. His hair is a little shorter than the last time he saw him, but the same curls Will used to love are still there. There’s a stiffness to the way he’s holding himself, like he’s bracing for impact. For a moment, neither of them moves.
Then Mike’s mouth curves into a hesitant smile, small and uncertain, like he’s afraid it might not be returned.
Will’s chest tightens.
He manages to nod in response, a small acknowledgement, before turning back toward his seat, which just so happens to be right in front of Mike’s. His hands feel unsteady as he pulls out the chair, and he hates how much that one look has already shaken him.
It will be a long night.
They’re halfway through the rehearsal dinner when Mike finally breaks the ice between them.
He’s already on his second glass of wine, his cheeks flushed pink, his words slightly slurred when he speaks, “Will,” he says, just loud enough to catch his attention. “So, uh- how’s life?”
Will blinks, clearly not expecting Mike to initiate a conversation, and on top of that act like nothing’s changed between them. He turns in his chair, fingers tightening briefly around his fork as a way to ground himself before he lets it rest on the plate. “It’s… good,” he says after a beat. Safe. Neutral. “New York’s busy. I like it.”
Mike nods a little too enthusiastically, swirling the wine in his glass. “Yeah. Figures. You always liked busy.” He pauses, then adds, quieter, “You look good, by the way.”
The words land heavier than they should.
“Thanks,” Will replies, forcing a small smile. “You too.”
There’s a stretch of silence that follows. Not uncomfortable exactly, but fragile, like either of them could shatter it by saying the wrong thing. Mike opens his mouth, closes it again, then takes another sip of wine.
Jonathan clears his throat beside Will, oblivious or pretending to be. “You really should’ve brought your boyfriend, Will.” he says.
Out of the corner of his eye, Will can see Mike suddenly reengage in the conversation, shifting in his chair.
“Jonathan, drop it,” Will mutters. “I told you I will when the time comes.”
“You’ve got a boyfriend?” Mike asks, looking taken aback, his wine glass frozen halfway to his lips.
It’s only when Mike speaks again that Will notices Jane’s hand resting on top of Mike’s. The sight lands like a delayed sting. He feels a flash of guilt for barely registering her presence all evening. They’ve barely exchanged more than a few words.
“I didn’t tell you?” she says, turning to Mike, her tone light, almost amused.
Mike blinks at her, then back at Will. “No,” he says. “You definitely didn’t.”
Will swallows, suddenly hyper aware of the room, the table, the way all of this feels too public. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I’m seeing someone.”
There’s a brief pause, filled with clinking cutlery and low conversation. Jane smiles first, warm and easy. “You should’ve brought him,” she says. “I would’ve liked to meet him.”
“Yeah,” Mike adds, a beat too late. “Me too.” And then, accidentally, surely, Mike’s foot brushes against Will’s under the table.
Will freezes.
The contact is light, barely there, but it sends a jolt straight up his spine. He tells himself it’s nothing, that Mike will move any second. But he doesn’t. Instead, his foot nudges again, hesitant, testing.
Will’s breath catches. Slowly, before he can overthink it, he presses back.
Mike stills. Jane keeps talking, unaware, her hand still resting over his. The tablecloth hides everything. The world keeps moving. So does the conversation. And under it all, their feet remain tangled, a quiet, impossible secret.
Will can’t do this.
“I- uh,” he says suddenly, pulling his foot away. “Excuse me.” He stands too quickly, chair scraping harshly against the floors, and heads for the restroom without looking back.
The bathroom is cool and empty. Will grips the edge of the sink, staring at his reflection, willing his pulse to slow. This was a mistake. He should not have come.
A minute later the door opens behind him.
Will looks up just in time to see Mike slip inside, quietly locking the door before turning around. The noise of the dinner fades away, replaced by the sound of their breathing. Too loud, too close. “Will,” Mike says, low and unsteady.
Will swallows, fingers tightening on the porcelain. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Yeah,” Mike replies, not moving farther away. “I know.”
“That was an accident,” Will says quickly. “Under the table.”
Mike huffs out a quiet laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah,” he says. “Sure.”
Silence stretches again, heavy and familiar in the worst way. Mike’s eyes flick up to meet Will’s, then away, like he’s afraid of what he’ll find if he looks too long.
Will knows exactly what he's going to find, and it terrifies him. Being this close to Mike again is dredging up memories he doesn't want. The good and the bad ones, all colliding at once. They rush through his head so fast it leaves him nearly shaking, furious at himself for how easily he’s breaking after spending so many years carefully rebuilding his walls.
“This boyfriend,” Mike says slowly, deliberately. “Is it serious?”
They're closer now. Too close. Will catches something in Mike's eyes he can't quite name. Something almost desperate.
The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “More serious than we ever were.” He holds eye contact with Mike as he says it, watching the way Mike's breath hitches, just for a second, like he's been struck across the face. The reaction gives Will a cruel, fleeting sense of satisfaction.
Mike scoffs, letting out that same humorless laugh from before. “Why are you acting like what we had wasn't a mutual agreement?” He snaps. “Why am I always the bad guy to you, Will?”
Will shakes his head. His hands are slick with sweat, and it has nothing to do with alcohol. He barely touched his wine. “I’m not doing this with you, Mike. Not again.” He turns away, twisting the faucet on and shoving his hands under the stream, focusing on the cold water instead of the tightness in his chest. “You're with my sister, remember?” Will continues, voice strained. “Again. So why do you care if what I have is serious? Why does it matter to you? Why do I need your approval to move on and be happy?” He says all this in a single breath, his voice cracking on the last word.
He hates himself for it. For letting Mike see him crack.
He feels fourteen again, raw and exposed, despite being ten years older and supposedly wiser, he still feels small next to the man standing next to him.
The water keeps running, the only sound in the bathroom besides their breathing.
Will stares at his now washed hands like they might tell him what to do next. His chest feels too tight, his throat still burning from where his voice cracked. He hates that Mike can still do this to him.
Behind him, Mike is quiet for a long moment. Then, softer, he finally says, “I care because it's you.”
Will laughs weakly, shaking his head. “That's not an answer.”
“It is to me,” Mike says. He steps closer, close enough that Will can feel the heat of him at his back. “You don't get to tell me to stop caring.” He places a hand on Will’s waist making his breath hitch. Will closes his eyes before turning around fully.
Will knows it's a mistake the second he does it.
Mike’s eyes are dark, fixed on him like he's something Mike has already lost and is refusing to let go of. There's something else there that makes Will’s chest ache.
They’re so close Mike’s breath hits Will’s lips when he says his next words, “tell me stop, and I will.” He murmurs keeping his eyes fixated on Will’s lips as he speaks. One of his hands is still holding Will’s waist like he might break. Will hates it.
He tries to say something. Anything. But all he can focus on is the way Mike’s thumb keeps rubbing circles at his waist. He gives in, closing his eyes and waiting for the inevitable.
Mike’s hand at the back of his neck is all the warning he gets before his lips crash into his. Will breathes through his nose letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding and melts into Mike’s touch, moving his lips against his. His mouth opens slightly and Mike takes that as a hint to deepen the kiss, their tongues moving in a practiced dance they still remember perfectly after three years of withdrawal.
Will is being pressed so hard against the bathroom sink he feels a sharp pain at his lower back. He lets out a hiss against Mike’s lips silently letting him know. Mike picks up on this fact quickly like they've kissed in this bathroom a million times before, the hand at his waist moves to his lower back rubbing it to ease the pain, and he takes that opportunity to grab Will by his thighs placing him on top of it.
Will separates their lips to breathe, placing his hands on Mike’s shoulders. The look on Mike’s face feels like a knife is being pushed through his heart. If that were true he's sure he would press himself against it, savoring the pain while he still can. As long as it gets him closer to Mike. It’s mental and so inevitable.
Mike is kissing him again before Will can voice that they really shouldn't be doing this. His sister is outside this bathroom waiting for Mike to return to the table. His boyfriend is at home oblivious to everything.
He finds that he should feel more guilty than he does. He missed Mike. Missed this thing between them. He needs it like he needs air, and if he has to be a little selfish to get it, he will. Just this once.
“Mike,” Will whispers, pressing his hands on Mike’s chest so they can separate. “We’ve been gone for too long.” Mike keeps kissing him like he didn't hear him.
Only after smothering Will’s face with kisses does he speak, “you should know I don't care, Will.” Mike whispers tracing one of Will’s eyebrows with his thumb. “I really don't.” He says brushing his lips against Will’s. It's too much. They need to get out of this bathroom before things escalate.
Will gets down from the bathroom sink running a hand through his hair. “Well, I do.” He says turning away and looking at Mike through the reflection in the mirror. “We have to go back. Just… stop by my room after dinner, ok?” He says before he can regret it. There's a small smile on Mike’s face. “To talk.” He sighs and starts fixing his clothes.
“Right…” Mike says. “I didn't say anything.” There's an amused tone when he speaks and it tugs at Will’s heartstrings more than he would like. He missed him so much.
“Ok. See you later.” Before Mike can respond Will is already out of the bathroom leaving him behind.
Later Will enters the hotel room on autopilot, Mike trailing behind him. He moves to the bed and drops down, pulling his knees up to his chest like he’s trying to make himself smaller. Maybe it’s instinct. Maybe it’s self-defense. From Mike, from the past, from the way his heart is already racing, being alone with Mike in a room after three years. This is a terrible idea. Even worse than playing footsie with each other while his sister was latching onto Mike’s arm the rest of the dinner.
Mike just laughs under his breath as he enters the room, shrugging off his jacket. The motion is effortless, practiced, and so attractive it leaves the hairs on the back of Will’s neck standing up.
Will tries not to look at the way the fabric of Mike’s dress shirt stretches across his shoulders, but his eyes betray him.
“So,” Will says, as Mike sits down beside him with that infuriating confidence. “We should talk.”
Before Will can start rambling about the relationship Mike and his sister have and how fucked up it is that they're doing this, Mike leans in close enough that their knees touch, close enough that Will can feel his breath against his lips.
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, hm?” Mike murmurs, his voice soft. He tilts his head slightly, the tip of his nose brushing against Will’s. “Let’s…” A smirk flickers across his lips. “Talk later.” Mike’s fingers trace lightly along his thigh, barely there. He swallows hard, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet of the hotel room.
“You do know I have a boyfriend waiting for me at home, right?” Will says quietly, the words leaving his mouth before he can stop them, and the second they do, Mike exhales. A soft, tired sound that feels heavier than it should.
“Jesus,” Mike murmurs, “I don't give a fuck about your boyfriend, Will.” His hand, still resting on Will’s thigh, moves upward. Fingertips brushing against his jaw before tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. The touch is gentle, almost deliberate, and for a second, Will lets himself believe it means something. That maybe the feelings are real. That maybe he’s what Mike really wants, and he can forget about his life in New York.
But the thought fades as quickly as it comes.
Will isn’t stupid. He knows why Mike is here. Knows that this has always been less about feelings and more about escape. That has been their problem ever since they started casually making out in their university days.
So instead of asking questions he doesn’t want answers to, instead of pointing out the faint red lipstick on Mike’s lips, and instead of defending his boyfriend's honor, Will gives in.
His hand finds the back of Mike’s neck, small and hesitant, and he leans forward until their lips meet in a slow and familiar rhythm.
It’s painfully inevitable.
Like all the other times before. The way their lips move together, the way Mike’s tongue hesitantly flicks out, asking for permission he doesn’t need. As if Will has ever said no to him. It’s all muscle memory by now, something etched into them, impossible to unlearn.
Mike pulls back first, breath ghosting over Will’s bottom lip. When he speaks, his voice is so quiet that Will almost thinks he imagined it. “I missed you…”
Will’s heart stumbles in his chest. He wants to say it back. To whisper I miss you too against Mike’s mouth. But he doesn’t. He can’t. Because words like that carry too much weight to him, and Will’s afraid that if he says them out loud, Mike will disappear again.
So instead, he says nothing. He just lets Mike kiss down his neck, open-mouthed and hungry, like he’s been starving.
Three years isn’t long. Not compared to all the years Will spent pretending not to have feelings for Mike. But ever since they crossed that line back at uni, Will hasn't been able to stop thinking about him.
And Will, like Mike, feels starved. Hollowed out and wanting to be filled, to be devoured.
Mike’s fingers find the hem of Will’s dress shirt, sliding underneath. The touch is featherlight, tracing from his hip to his ribs, and it’s maddening. Will arches into it without meaning to, breath hitching, wanting Mike to stop holding back. To lose control, to take whatever he wants from him.
Will doesn’t need to ask. One look into his eyes, and Mike understands. He always did. There’s a silent language between them, built over the years and impossible to forget.
Mike’s fingers brush against Will’s elbow, a light tap asking him to lift his arms. Will obeys without question, not breaking eye contact with Mike the entire time.
Mike lifts the soft fabric of Will’s shirt, slow and careful, until it’s completely off. His hand, cool against Will’s warm skin, presses lightly to his chest, guiding him down onto the bed.
The cold, biting air in the hotel room hits him immediately, making Will shiver. His chest rises and falls quickly and unevenly as he lies there in nothing but his suit pants and fuzzy socks, eyes locked on the man hovering above him, still fully clothed in contrast.
“You’re beautiful,” Mike whispers.
He takes one of Will’s legs gently, resting it on his shoulder. His lips brush against the skin of Will’s calf, leaving a trail of warmth before he slowly slides off one sock, then moves to the other leg and does the same, all while keeping his gaze fixed on Will’s face.
Will doesn’t know what that look means. Maybe Mike doesn’t either.
He wants to say something, anything, but his throat feels too tight, words lodged somewhere between his ribs and his heart. Because the way Mike is touching him right now, the care, the slowness, and the quiet whispered praises, it all feels too familiar. Too much like how it used to be between them. Before they ruined it.
“Are you going to fuck me, or are you just going to keep staring at me?” Will says, trying to break the weird tension lingering in the air.
It seems to work, because a second later, Mike lets out a dry chuckle and starts taking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. “You have such a way with words.” The smile Mike had on his face when he chuckled disappears completely. He looks serious now, as he wraps his tie around Will’s wrist.
“Wait. W– What are you doing?” Will’s cheeks feel like they're burning up in contrast to his cold torso.
One of Mike’s eyebrows is furrowed, feigning ignorance. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Mike leans down, close enough to whisper against Will’s lips, “for me to fuck you?” He places a small kiss on Will’s shiny mouth and bites on his bottom lip so hard that Will lets out a whimper.
“That hurt, asshole.” Will snaps at Mike while trying to get rid of the small knot on the tie covering his dainty wrists. “Can you untie it?” He pleads with Mike.
“I don't think so princess,” Mike murmurs against Will’s knuckles, and then moves to leave small kisses on his palms, making Will shiver.
The way his body reacts to Mike’s smallest touches and kisses should be embarrassing. But if there's anyone who knows how sensitive Will can get, it’s Mike.
He knows what turns Will on, which places he needs to touch to make him crumble, or even the exact expression Will makes when he's about to come undone.
Before Will can read too deeply into the look in Mike’s eyes, he gently takes Will’s wrists and lifts them above his head, the movement both careful and commanding. It leaves Will feeling even more exposed than before.
“Be a good boy and hold still,” Mike murmurs, his voice low. He reaches for the waistband of Will’s pants, his fingertips tracing light patterns along Will’s skin, making him squirm. Finally, he starts removing them along with his boxers, but so slowly it drives Will mad.
Will looks up at Mike, acutely aware of the contrast between them. Will is now completely naked, and Mike has only his dress shirt unbuttoned.
“Can you… Take off your clothes?” Will asks softly. He feels foolish asking that. He has no reason to feel this uneasy, especially not in front of the one person he trusts the most in the world.
“In a second,” Mike replies, but Will knows that’s not his top priority right now, not when he feels Mike’s warm breath on his dick. “Pretty,” he whispers before leaning in and pressing his lips so softly on Will’s tip that he feels it everywhere.
Will wants to call Mike pretty, too. Especially in this position, his messy bangs sticking out in every direction, and his shiny lips glistening with Will’s pre cum. He wants to say so many things, but when Mike finally wraps his mouth around his cock all Will can do is arch his back and open his mouth in a silent moan.
He wants to reach out and touch Mike’s hair, maybe even pull on it as payback for ghosting him, even though they are both responsible for that, but Will remembers he’s supposed to keep his hands where Mike placed them, right above his head. And even though he could move, considering they’re not tied to anything else, Will wants to be good for Mike. He wants to let go completely. Just this once.
Mike keeps the same slow rhythm, the tip of Will’s cock hitting the back of his throat every time. He has one arm wrapped around Will’s tiny waist, keeping him in place, while his other hand is busy playing with one of his nipples. All Will can focus on, though, is the way Mike’s tongue keeps tracing the vein on the underside of his cock every time he takes him into his mouth.
“Mike... Ah-” Will moans and squirms, the movement making Mike take him even deeper into his mouth. It’s embarrassing how that alone makes Will almost come. “Mike… Slow down, please… I’m close.” Mike looks up at him, his eyes look a shade darker than usual, and the small tilt of his head tells Will he doesn’t plan to slow down.
“Fuck-” Will whimpers when Mike replaces his mouth with his hand, wrapping it around Will’s cock, his movements quick and precise, while consecutively leaving small kisses on the head before he starts sucking on the tip in a faster rhythm than before. Will doesn’t get to warn Mike before he spills his release into the latter's waiting mouth.
Will is about to ask Mike why he didn’t pull out when he realizes he didn’t swallow.
Mike looks up at Will, while placing the hand that was stroking him below his chin, and without warning spits Will’s load onto his waiting palm.
“Wha-” Will looks at Mike with a frown as if waiting for an explanation, but before he can utter another word, Mike grabs both of his legs with his clean hand and pushes them against Will’s chest.
All Will has time to process is the cold feel of his own come dripping onto his hole, making him tremble from head to toe. “Ah-” He shivers at the feeling as Mike wipes his hand on one of Will’s thighs and finally starts to unbutton his black slacks while keeping his eyes on Will’s flustered face.
“You know,” Mike mutters when he stands to the side of the bed to easily remove his pants and boxers, along with his dress shirt that was already unbuttoned, “I told you to stay still, but I didn’t think you would actually be able to do it.” He says getting on the bed again and tracing his fingers through Will’s sweaty bangs. “Do you not want me?” Mike says in a teasing tone, leaning down and brushing his lips against Will’s. The feeling is barely there, but it makes Will’s chest ache.
Mike lazily trails his fingers down Will’s body until he stops where Will wants him the most. “You can touch me,” Mike says, and that’s all it takes for Will to wrap his arms around Mike’s neck and bring their faces close to each other.
“You know what I want,” Will manages to get out despite feeling his throat close up.
Mike’s index and middle fingers make circling movements around Will’s rim, teasing him before he pushes the middle one in. “I’ll give it to you, baby, relax for me.” Mike presses their lips together for what feels like the first time that night.
Will missed him so much.
Their tongues meet, and it’s messy and filthy. His hands are still tied together, but now he can play with the hairs in the back of Mike’s neck. It’s so familiar it hurts. Will can feel Mike’s perfume everywhere. He lets out a whimper, at the same time Mike hums into his mouth in response before he starts working another finger inside him at a faster pace. It’s a little uncomfortable, the come is already dry, but Will doesn’t want to say anything. He just wants Mike, in any way he will let Will have him.
But Mike, as always, notices the way Will’s body tenses up. He stops kissing Will, their lips still close, a string of saliva connecting them. Will thinks it’s ironic. “Your bag?” Mike mutters before placing a kiss on Will’s nose. He nods, feeling the heat flare to his cheeks. Embarrassing. He’s so easy for Mike.
Mike removes his two fingers from Will’s hole. He feels empty and exposed while Mike walks around the bed, walking over to the other side of the room where he placed his bag.
When he turns around, Will notices he’s only carrying the lube. He frowns, “Did I not bring condoms?” Mike nods. “Then why-” Mike grabs Will’s legs again, spreading them apart while uncapping the bottle of lube.
“You ask too many questions,” Mike says, voice steady. Before he can pour the contents of the bottle onto his fingers, Will grabs his wrist.
“Wait,” Will says, closing his legs in the process. “I thought… Are you not having sex with my sister?” Will swallows. He can feel a weird sensation behind his eyes at her mention. Will can’t bring himself to think about her right now. If he pretends she doesn’t exist, maybe it will hurt less.
Perhaps he won’t feel guilty and dirty for doing this to someone who means so much to him.
Will notices Mike is looking at him like he wants to say something. Will wishes he did. He hoped and waited for the day Mike would call him on the phone and tell him it’s over between him and Jane. He knows it’s not that easy. They live together. They co-parent a pet for fucks sake. And even if they were to break up, who’s to say Mike would want Will like that? They broke up time and time again and that didn't make Mike come running into his arms.
They’re meant for this. The hiding is thrilling, and deep down, Will knows that’s all Mike seeks in him. He’s always been a free spirit who doesn’t want to be confined to one place. Or person, for that matter.
After a while Mike sighs, and Will can see the way his adam’s apple moves when he swallows. “I haven’t had sex with anyone in over a year, Will.” The second the words leave Mike’s mouth, Will gets whiplash.
What?
“What do you mean?” Will asks, making sure he heard Mike say what he thinks he did. He can feel his head spinning at the implications of what Mike just said.
“You heard me,” Mike says nonchalantly, and Will almost misses the way something in his face changes. Almost. What it is, Will is unsure, and he doesn't have the mental capacity to analyze it right now, with Mike between his legs, looking like he doesn't want to be anywhere else.
Mike finally pours the lube onto his cock, tossing the bottle somewhere on the bed. Will’s been so in his head the entire time; he’s only now realizing how hard Mike is. Will bites his bottom lip to the point of bruising, while Mike spreads his legs again, and Will obliges like it’s muscle memory, even though they never went this far before.
He wants to talk about it. He wants to ask so many questions about this new revelation about Mike’s sex life. He wants to remind Mike they haven’t done this. Ever. He wants to say maybe it’s a bad idea, and perhaps they shouldn’t. But when Mike aligns his cock with Will’s entrance, all coherent thoughts leave his mind.
Mike pushes in so slowly it feels like he’s breaking Will in two. And maybe he is. In more ways than one.
He’s barely halfway in, and Will can already feel tears form on the corner of his eyes. He can feel Mike everywhere, actually feel him for the first time.
When Mike moves into him completely, he stays still so Will can get used to the feeling. “Fuck- you’re so tight,” Mike mutters, looking down at where they’re connected. Will knows Mike is holding back from moving; he wishes he didn’t. It’s been too long since he's felt this full.
He tries not to compare Mike to all his past partners, but considering this is the same Mike he’s been in love with for over 10 years, that feels impossible. It's different in more ways than one, and for a second Will thinks he’s going to be ruined forever. All future boyfriends be damned. This is it.
“You can move,” Will whispers, bringing his legs closer to his chest instinctively, the motion making Mike let out a breath and dropping his body forward, placing his hands on both sides of Will’s head.
Mike is so close that Will can count every single one of his freckles. He’s so beautiful it hurts. “Kiss me?” Will speaks as Mike starts moving at a slow pace just before leaning down and kissing him roughly, in contrast to his movements. The sound of their bodies moving together echoes in the quiet hotel room.
One specific movement Mike does has his cock hitting Will’s prostate immediately. Will moans into Mike’s warm mouth, forgetting to kiss back; it feels divine, and Mike catches on if the way he quickens his movements is any indication.
Mike wraps one of his arms around Will’s waist, lifting him up a little, this new position making Will feel him more intensely than before. “Mike-” he whimpers.
“Shhh. I’m here, baby,” Mike keeps thrusting into him. He’s holding on to Will’s waist with so much force, Will knows he’ll have the bruises to remind him of this tomorrow. As he’s savoring the way Mike’s fingers press into his hips, Mike picks Will up and sits back on his feet, bringing him onto his lap, their bodies never separating. In this position, Will can feel Mike’s cock even deeper than before.
Mike grabs one of his arms; his wrists are still tied up, but it looks like Mike has had enough of that because he starts untying the knot with his teeth. Will is looking down at him while he does it. Mike looks like a sin. His face is flushed, and there’s a small trail of sweat on his brow. Will’s throat constricts. He has to swallow down an embarrassing sound and blink away from Mike’s face. He knows he’s an open book when it comes to his best friend, but he’s also scared of being too vulnerable and scaring him away for good.
Will starts slowly moving his hips in a circular motion, resulting in Mike grabbing both of his ass cheeks, making him stop. “I didn’t say you could move, love,” Mike says around a giggle that makes him look and sound more cute than bossy. Get your shit together, Will Byers.
Mike slides one of his hands on Will’s ass up his spine, making him tremble under his touch. He keeps moving up until he grabs the back of Will’s neck, gently exposing it. Mike places small kisses on it, his tongue darting out to lick a path up to the back of his ear. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Mike whispers into Will’s ear like a secret. He knows Mike likes to give and receive compliments, but it feels like too much when Mike is fully inside him, one hand tracing lazy circles against his waist, the other threading gently through the hair behind Will’s ear. “I want to ruin you,” he murmured. You already have, Will wanted to say.
Not waiting for a reply from Will, Mike grabs the tie that was wrapped around Will’s wrists and envelops it around his neck instead, tightening it so that it barely leaves Will any space to breathe. “Ah-” Mike grabs the end of the tie and pulls on it, making Will’s body crash into his, their chests brushing, making Will’s breath catch, “Mike- Please.. Fuck me.” There are tears in his eyes, threatening to spill. Mike keeps holding the tie, placing his other hand on Will’s chest so he can push him away, still keeping a hold of the tie while his eyes trace Will’s torso. Mike leans up a bit and connects his lips to one of his nipples, never breaking eye contact with him. He sucks and licks, pulling on the pink bud with his teeth. The action makes Will let out a hiss while one of his small hands moves to grab Mike’s curly hair.
Will’s neglected cock sits between them, the head brushing against Mike’s stomach every time he moves. It’s making him delirious. He reaches down to it, his thumb caressing the tip lightly as he spreads the pre cum over its head. “Ahh-” Will moans, and at the sound, Mike looks up at him, continuing to suck on his now red nipple.
Will thinks Mike is about to scold him after touching himself, but his free hand moves on top of Will’s, encouraging him to keep stroking his cock. Mike is the one setting the pace, his long fingers entrelacing with Will’s in a way that is more romantic than it should be. “You’re doing so well,” Mike mutters, quickening his hand movements, but in contrast to the praise, he pulls on the tie around Will’s throat with so much force it feels like it’s a punishment.
Will swears he can feel the oxygen stop reaching his brain for a second, and as the hand on his own cock goes limp from tiredness, Mike takes the opportunity to keep stroking him in a quicker motion, driving him so close to the edge he almost sees stars behind his eyes. “Fuuuck.. Mike-” Will moans but before he can come Mike’s hand wraps around the head of his cock and stops him from reaching his climax. It’s so overwhelming Will almost falls back if it weren’t for the tie around his neck Mike hasn’t let go of. He pulls on it gently, making Will fall against his body. His legs are burning up even though he has barely moved on top of Mike, his sweaty bangs and the tears in his eyes making it hard to see, his mind foggy.
Before Will can point out how cruel Mike is, the latter grabs Will’s face with both hands and kisses him. As their tongues move together, Will starts tentatively moving his hips, trying to get through the overstimulation.
Mike groans into Will’s mouth, “You’re restless.”
Will places his dainty hands on Mike’s shoulders as he takes a moment to look at him before he presses their mouths together again. Will bites on Mike’s bottom lip, making him heave out what sounds like a whimper, and he takes the opportunity to speak those three forbidden words. “I love you,” Will whispers against Mike’s forehead, placing a small kiss there. He keeps moving his hips this time in a circular movement, with barely just the tip in. He wants to make Mike feel good. He wants to make sure he thinks about this night for the next few weeks. “I want you to come. Inside.” He looks into Mike’s eyes and flutters his eyelashes while biting his lip.
“Fuck, Will… You’re going to drive me insane,” Mike says as he takes hold of Will’s waist and makes him press down on his cock so hard it makes all the hairs in Will’s body stand up, his head thrown back as a moan leaves his lips. “Look at me, please..” Mike whispers, and with how quickly Will does, you would think he was made to do everything Mike asks of him.
When they make eye contact, Mike takes full control and presses Will’s body up and down as he enters him deeper every time. The sound Will’s ass makes as it collides with Mike’s thighs is filthy, and it makes Will’s cheeks turn a darker shade of red.
“Ngh- Mi-” Will’s words get cut short as Mike's rosy and wet lips collide with his in a bruising kiss. He keeps thrusting into Will as he kisses him, his cock now hitting his sweet spot. Will can’t think all he can do is keep kissing Mike and bouncing on his lap as he lets Mike do all the work.
“I love you too,” Mike whispers between kisses and Will almost thinks he’s imagining it in his delirious state.
A hard thrust, and the feeling of Will sucking on his tongue has Mike groaning as they both come undone at the same time. Will thinks this is the longest orgasm of his life, he just keeps convulsing as Mike continues to spill inside him.
Will notices Mike shaking slightly when he finally comes down from it. He brushes a strand of hair from Mike’s face so he can place a kiss on his cheek. “That felt amazing,” Will says in a low voice, realizing too late how endearing and romantic that action feels.
It’s stupid, really. Especially when Mike’s now softening cock is still buried deep inside Will. But a cheek kiss between them somehow feels more tender and intimate than whatever they’re doing. Than sex.
He’s overthinking it surely, because a second later Mike returns the kiss, placing his lips longer than necessary on one of Will’s cheekbones. “Agreed,” Mike mutters. “But I’m not done with you, pretty boy.” He says as he lifts Will from his cock, making him whimper at the emptiness. He can feel Mike’s come start to drip down his thighs as he waits for Mike to move.
Mike grabs Will up by the waist and fully lies down on the bed beneath Will’s body. When Mike is comfortable enough, he pulls Will by his hips so he can hover above his face.
“I need to clean you up,” Mike says with a small smile on his lips. Will could never be sane about him.
Mike uses his hands to spread Will's ass cheeks and lowers him down onto his waiting mouth. The weird cold feeling of Mike’s come dripping down Will’s thighs is replaced by a warm tongue as Mike starts licking him clean. His nose brushing against Will’s inner thigh is driving him insane. He has to support himself, one hand on the top of the bed and the other on Mike’s dark hair. “What the fuck- ngh. You’re crazy,” Will mutters, followed by a moan when he feels Mike’s tongue circling his wet rim.
Mike hums against Will’s hole, the vibration making him whimper. He’s getting hard again, not only from the feeling of Mike’s tongue entering him but mostly because it looks like Mike is enjoying it.
He keeps fucking into Will with his tongue to then leave open-mouthed kisses around his rim. A specific suck of Mike’s mouth has Will arching his back as he comes untouched onto the pillow in front of him. What the fuck.
Will’s legs go weak when Mike places one last lingering kiss on the inside of his thigh. Mike shifts up on the bed, avoiding Will’s mess and guiding him by the hips until he’s sitting down on Mike’s lap. One hand steadies Will’s trembling body, and the other reaches for the tissue box on the small bedside table.
In the silence that follows, Mike begins to clean him with soft and gentle motions.
When he’s finished he pulls Will down on top of him by the wrist, and covers their bodies with the covers.
Mike brushes Will’s hair away from his eyes and leaves a lingering kiss on his forehead. “We’ll talk when you wake up, ok?” He murmurs against Will’s ear and starts moving his fingers through his hair in a tender way.
Will knows everything is changing between them. They can’t go back from this. But as he’s about to argue back that they should talk right now, his eyes start closing and he lets out a soft sleepy sigh. “Night, Mike.” He whispers into the silence of the hotel room.
“Goodnight, Will.”