Chapter Text
Ever since he was born everyone in his life always expected Will to be an omega, or at least a beta—no one expected him to present as an alpha, but he did and it clicked almost instantly, and despite being the last to present in his group of friends, he adapted faster to his presentation than anyone else in the Party—mostly. The changes were overwhelming at first, as with anyone, and while Will did a great job at fighting through the flashes of anger and irritation that come with newly presented alphas, no matter what he did he couldn’t push down the possessive feelings he got around his friends. It’s common, sure, but he’s snapped at his brother once already when he made a joke about Lucas’s basketball team, something he’s never done before, and he’s grown picky about the types of people he lets hang around El, always keeping a watchful eye. But none of that is anywhere near what he does with Mike. Mike, who’s been an omega longer than he’s been an alpha. Mike, who’s every dream of his tucked into one person. Mike, who’s an omega and he’s an alpha.
The dynamic between alpha and omega was unique, much like the relationship between Will and Mike always had been, so maybe it was just that—the uniqueness of their relationship that made him act this way. But there was no way he could fool himself into thinking that. Will was deeply, irrevocably in love with Mike and there was no way around it—everyone knew: he did, the Party did, everyone did—except Mike because of course he didn’t. Mike didn’t notice the way he was clingier with him than the rest of the Party, always whining or irritated the moment he slipped out of his grasp and pressing close the moment he came back. Mike didn’t notice because he seemed to have thought it was normal, some part of newly presenting—getting possessive over your omega best friend, even if none of the other alphas in their group did that.
But maybe Mike had a right to being so dense—he hadn’t presented yet when the other two alphas in their group did: El and Lucas. When it came time for Mike’s presentation it came as a surprise, both to Mike and everyone else in the Party. He, like Will, was someone who had been so clearly made to be a specific presentation, told all his life how he was going to make ‘such a good alpha, just like his father’, but he wasn’t and never could be because Mike Wheeler was an omega. Mike’s presentation was the final blow to an already crumbling dream—the picture-perfect life he had always imagined splintering at the seams; he would never become an alpha, would never meet his perfect omega, and although it meant he could realistically get back together with El, there was nothing he wanted less—he didn’t want to be an omega.
And unlike most other omegas who knew it was coming, who had time to prepare a nest, to not be around all of their closest friends when it hit—Mike had been the opposite. An omega presentation was nowhere in his mind when he had spent the entire movie night with the Party squirming and warm, a light flush to his cheeks for hours on end. It wasn’t until his scent began to change, to sweeten slightly, mellowing out from its neutral note of soap into something more floral that anyone even began to notice what was happening. Lucas and El were the first to notice, pressed tightly against his sides on the lumpy couch in his basement, and Mike barely had time to even notice the scent change himself before El was rushing up the stairs to find his parents.
He had froze at the time, eyes flickering all around the room as if looking for whoever it was that was presenting, and as his eyes traced hopelessly over Max, Dustin, and eventually settled on Will, he knew with startling clarity who it was. Him.
“What?” Mike had croaked out, shaking slightly as reality set it.
For a moment he wished it was different, wished it was someone else that was presenting, giving off a scent that could mean nothing other than omega. He didn’t want to be an omega—he had never even thought it to be an option; he wasn’t small in any of the right places, wasn’t placid or meek like the stereotypes said—he wasn’t even sweet. So how was it that this was his reality? How was it that everything he had been told his whole life ended up a lie?
It had hardly registered in his brain when Will had jumped up from his spot across the room, crossing it in what seemed like two steps before he reached him, and his brain only just started to work when he felt arms wrapping tightly around him.
“It’ll be okay, there’s nothing wrong with what you are.” Mile felt it murmured into his ear, head tucked under Will’s chin as he trembled.
There was a sour scent in the air, one of water logged books and rancid flowers, one that screamed unhappy omega, because that’s what he was now. Mike no longer had the neutral scent of a beta and something about the scent change stuck with him. It felt wrong, like something had irrefutably changed with who he was and there was no way to go back to how things were. If Mike had a choice he would’ve gone back and prayed harder before his presentation, even just to be a beta, to smell like Dustin and Will for longer.
But that’s where Will had come in, whispering into his ear words of comfort as his scent had continued to sour until Mike felt him nuzzle into his newly forming scent gland. Almost instantly he had relaxed, scent mellowing out as Will’s fresh laundry smell surrounded his senses. It was taboo to outright scent someone without permission, but Will hadn’t cared for taboos, he cared for comforting his best friend and trying his best to calm him down. And he certainly wasn’t going to let someone else get the first whiff of Mike’s new scent.
Without the sour tinge to it, Mike’s scent was heavenly—the scent of old books and faint florals, the kind of clean, downy softness that settled deep within Will’s chest before he even realized he had nuzzled in closer, mouth watering. It was almost overwhelming, being able to scent him so clearly—he had been able to pick apart the notes of anxiety and fear wafting off Mike from this close and he couldn’t stand it. Will nosed along Mike’s scent gland for another long moment before he had pulled away, taking a slow step back, and despite the new space that had formed between the two of them, there had been no denying that Will smelled as much like Mike as he did himself. It was nice—as much as Mike didn’t seem to enjoy it.
And not even a moment after Will had stepped back, Mike was whisked away by his mother, scent souring almost immediately. Part of his reasoning for being so upset when he had first presented was his family; he had known what their reactions would be to having an omega son when they should have had an alpha son—his fathers reaction was certain, and it wasn’t something he wanted to face then or ever, but he had to get used to it, because there was no going back.
The last of their group to present was Will, and for a while he had almost been able to convince himself he might be a beta instead of the omega he had been told his entire life he was going to be but then his brother jolted one day as they sat together, staring at him with a haunted expression Will recognized all too well because it was the exact one they had given Mike—he was presenting now. It had taken him a long moment before Will had realized just what he presented as, too overwhelmed with the realization that people would either be proven right or wrong after theorizing about him his whole life and maybe this is how MIke felt when he had presented too- but it wasn’t, not anywhere close. Will Byers was an alpha, not an omega, and there was no disappointment in his family when news spread like wildfire.
The Party knew almost instantly that something had happened to him when he didn’t show up for school the next day, and through fits of uncomfortable cramps and bouts of snappy irritation, Will had been able to explain over their radios that he—in fact—did not present as an omega, but as an alpha. And through cheers and celebrations with his family while he got used to his new presentation, Will had felt as though he was finally starting to figure things out—getting a hold on his new alpha instincts- until he had seen his friends again, that is.
Their first Party hangout after his presentation had been at Mike’s house, as usual, and the moment Will had walked in, getting hit with a wave of Mike’s scent he had known he was completely and utterly fucked. After presenting his senses had changed, increasing his nose’s sensitivity to scents, especially omega scents, and when his best friend and love of his life just happened to be an omega, he should've known it would be like heaven on earth smelling him post-presentation. But being an alpha had left him in an odd spot—the spot next to Mike was empty, reserved almost exclusively for Will at any event, but were things different now that he was an alpha? Could he still sit with Mike how he used to? Or had things completely changed?
But instead of faltering or encouraging him to sit elsewhere, Mike had patted the seat next to him, grinning over at Will with his same old smile, and from that point on Will decided to be greedy—to not question what an alpha and omega should do, but what we wanted to do, and he wanted to sit with Mike, so he had. Will had wiggled into the spot next to him, pressing as close as possible to his side, and the two had spent the entirety of the movie whispering to each other. It made Will’s heart thump, because the longer they had sat next to each other, the longer they had brushed arms, the longer their scents had begun to mix ever so slightly, and Will had never smelt anything so good in his life.
As time passed and Will continued to get used to his presentation he barely noticed when he started to really act like an alpha—to look like one. As if overnight he gained confidence in himself, some that was much needed after years of being bullied, he gained more muscles, arms and shoulders filling out until he actually looked like he worked out, and he had become more sure of himself and who he was. All these alpha changes had been a good thing, until they weren’t—but at least Mike hadn’t noticed because of course he hadn’t.
When the feelings of possession had started it had scared him, and, convinced he was going crazy, he had confessed to Lucas and El, the other Party alphas. They had lasted all of one shared look before they burst into laughter, telling him that no, he was not going crazy, and that feeling possessive was normal of a new alpha—it would fade over time, he just had to get used to it. And Will had believed them, because, with each passing day, the flashes of anger and irritation he would get, the possessive feeling over his friends, were already fading—except with Mike. Mike had been a constant with his newfound feelings; he always wanted to sit with Mike and had to hold back a snarl if anyone dared to take his spot, but it wasn’t until he had growled at Dustin for teasing Mike that everyone had clicked in to what was going on, but it wasn’t his fault. What else had they expected him to do when the boy he had been in love with for years smelt like heaven and was everything he wanted in one person?
But as time went by, Will got better at hiding things, better at pushing down his instincts until he was certain that Mike would never pick up on it. But it’s clear that maybe he hasn’t been hiding it as well as he thinks when Mike corners him one day, just as he’s about to leave his house.
“Is everything okay?” Mike asks, leaning against his doorframe, blocking the door just enough that Will would have to push by him to leave.
Will freezes for a second, heart racing, convinced that Mike has finally figured him out. “What do you mean?”
Mike squints at him for a moment, as if considering his words. “I dunno, just ever since you presented you’ve been… a bit moody.”
Will frowns, but before he can speak Mike continues, “Ah- sorry if that’s like offensive. I’m not an alpha-“ Will knows. “-so I don’t really know how someone’s supposed to be after their presentation.”
“Well…” He shifts his gaze away, feeling a bit awkward. “Lucas and El said it was normal to feel a bit more irritated and possessive than normal.”
Mike slowly nods, looking pensive. “I thought you were pissed at me for a while.”
Will blinks in shock. “What?”
“Yeah. I guess because you always get the most moody and snappy when I’m talking or doing something so I thought maybe I was doing something wrong.”
Will quickly shakes his head, taking an almost desperate small step forward into Mike’s space. “No-! It’s not you it’s-“ He cringes a bit. “It’s me.”
Mike gives him a deadpan look. “Well obviously yeah, but what do you mean?”
Will shifts again, awkwardly. “I guess… I just get jealous when everyone else gets all of your attention.”
It’s quiet for a moment before Mike snorts and Will watches as his hand moves up and shoves at his shoulder. His gaze snaps back to Mike’s face just in time to watch a small grin spread across his face. “And since when do I pay more attention to the others than you?”
Will’s lips twitch up ever so slightly and then, before he knows it, Mike is pulling him in for a loose hug, and it’s Mike’s face this time being the one to nuzzle into Will’s neck, just shy of his scent gland.
“Just come over more often then if it starts bothering you.”
Will swallows, harshly.
“Would that be better?”
The words are spoken directly over top of his scent gland and he’s almost vibrating on the spot with exertion, trying desperately not to tremble like a newborn pup in Mike’s arms. No, probably not, it’d probably make it worse- “Yes.” Fuck.
“Mmm, okay. Well, you know you’re always welcome over.”
Will finally loses the fight against himself and his arms fly up to wrap tightly around Mike and he has to fight off the guilty feeling that explodes in his chest when he does. Mike just wants to help out his friend, he has no idea why Will is really doing this and if he knew he wouldn’t- Oh. Despite all the racing insecurities in his brain, telling him he’s taking advantage of his best friend, Will feels every single one of them fizzle out the moment Mike’s head shuffles forward until his nose is pressed right up against his scent gland. Mike nuzzles into the spot lightly for a moment, breath wafting out over the gland, sending tingles down Will’s spine before he shifts again, and this time Will can’t fight back his full body tremble. He hears and feels Mike snort and knows he has felt it, but instead of pulling back, Mike leans forward a bit more, pressing closer and rubbing his own scent gland against Will’s—scenting him.
“So you don’t get all whiny before you’re over next.” He can hear the smirk in Mike’s voice, the slight mocking tone, but he’s hardly paying attention to that.
He’s paying attention to the way their scents bloom together, mixing until Will can barely distinguish where his scent begins and Mike’s scent ends, and it smells divine—better even than Mike’s own scent. His mouth waters and he feels his fangs threatening to drop when he finally leans into it, relaxing into his hold.
“Woah- that actually did help…” Mike murmurs, as if surprised something he had suggested actually ended up helping.
And Will can’t do anything more than grumble in agreement, body slumping further into Mike’s hold until he’s practically holding his entire body up, Will’s body almost completely boneless as his eyes flutter with each inhale of their now combined scents.
It becomes an almost normal thing after that- the two of them scenting. It’s common enough that everyone in the Party comments about it at some point, saying how Will smells so much like Mike they can’t even tell he’s an alpha anymore. And maybe that would’ve bothered him if he was covered in anyone else’s scent but Mike’s, but this is Mike, so he’s more proud than anything to be covered so deeply in his smell.
Mike lets him nuzzle into his neck during movie nights, whining when he pays more attention to someone else. Mike lets him snuggle into his side when they’re hanging out, lets him stand almost protectively behind him whenever they’re out, lets him do practically whatever he wants. And it’s clear the Party knows what he’s doing yet no one says anything to Mike, cautious to step in between a newly presented alpha and the omega he’s clearly been pining after for years, but it’s also clear from El’s warning looks that Will doesn’t have that much longer before she tells him. But despite that, he wants nothing more than to keep being greedy for just a bit longer, wants to keep watching the way Mike so easily gives things up to him—relinquishes control whenever Will asks or needs him to. It feels good to be the one who finally gets through to Mike, to let him feel like he can actually open up to people, and it feels good to finally not be afraid of asking—even if he wasn’t entirely truthful about the reason why.
It’s weeks later now, officially months after his presentation and maybe he should’ve been the first to notice something was up when he was… more than usual—more everything, but with a pretty omega tucked into his side almost constantly it was hard for him to truly notice anything else.
And that pretty omega had been tucked into his side all night, wiggling closer with every movie until Will had to leave, shuffling out of the comfort of his spot to trudge to the bathroom. He’s quick, almost rushing through the motions so he can hurry back and reclaim his spot next to Mike on the loveseat, but the moment he steps back into the room he stops, because right there in his spot is El, leaning into Mike’s side and whispering something as the movie plays in the background.
Mike is laughing quietly, muffling his laughter with the palm of his hand as he flashes her hidden grins, leaning back into her and it sends a spark of possession through Will’s body. That’s his spot. And he knows El is doing it on purpose when her gaze flits over to him for one quick moment before she leans in closer, exaggeratedly close, close enough to just barely brush their scent glands together as she whispers something else into his ear before she pulls away fully. She stands up this time, stretching slightly before she moves back to her spot from earlier, curled up with Max in a giant blanket nest on the floor, pouting the absence of Lucas while he’s sick.
Will is back in his spot against Mike’s second in seconds, pressing flush against him and wrapping his arm tightly around his shoulder, tugging him so he’s leaning back against Will’s chest this time. Mike lets out a surprised noise, freezing up for a split second before he relaxes, letting Will shuffle him around as he pleases until they are practically fused together.
He only stiffens again when Will’s nose burrows into the crook of his neck after he’s curled around him, rubbing deliberately against his scent gland as he breathes in deeply—trying to catch if El successfully left her scent on him. What used to be a soothing scent, downy floral and old books, was now tinged with something deeper, something not him. It pisses Will off, enough that his brain practically goes blank, unable to focus on anything but the way that Mike should smell like him not her, enough that he hardly notices when his mouth opens, tongue dropping out and dragging up the side of Mike’s neck, directly over his scent gland.
Mike lets out a sharp gasp, freezing up further, and maybe Will would’ve been nervous someone had overheard—noticed what he was doing right in front of them—but their friends were too busy giggling amongst themselves, effectively ignoring them. So he does it again, tongue dragging more slowly this time, lapping over Mike’s scent gland until it coaxes more of his scent out slowly. Will’s tongue drags harshly a few times, washing away all remainders of El’s scent and when he’s rewarded with a fresh burst of pure Mike he can’t help his sigh, breath wafting over the gland.
With each passing moment the gland begins to swell under his tongue as Will continues to lick, watching absently as Mike begins to fidget, twitching and wiggling in his arms but never pulling away, letting out little gasps with each rasp of his tongue against his gland. His head lolls against Mike’s shoulder, his whole face practically pressed into his gland, so every fresh wave of his scent goes straight to his nose—straight to his brain. Will feels like he’s scent drunk, unable to think of anything but coaxing more of that delicious smell out, enough that the next time his tongue drags over the now swollen gland, his lips follow, sealing ever so lightly around it and sucking.
Almost instantaneously he’s rewarded for his troubles: Mike’s scent gland begins to oil, something that happens only to a well aroused gland, letting out thin secretions of his oiled scent, a taste that has Will holding back a loud groan as it melts into his mouth. It’s so fucking good. But then he smells it- a waft of something almost sickly sweet, something familiar but not, something Mike, and it hits him. His grip tightens around Mike—he made him slick his fucking pants.
There’s no way Will could pull away at this point, his senses going haywire with the taste of oil in his mouth and the faint scent of slicked up omega in his nose—an omega that’s practically his, his inner alpha reminds him and it has his body burning. He wants to smell more, wants to taste more, wants to have Mike all to himself. He sucks again over the gland, quickly, just enough to coax more oil, more slick, from Mike’s body before Mike abruptly pulls away, shooting to the other side of the couch, one hand clamped over his gland.
Their gazes meet in the middle, Will’s hazy and unfocused and Mike’s wide eyed, pupils dilated. Neither of them move for a moment, one that stretches on into something that feels like eternity before Mike stands up awkwardly, hurrying out of the room with some half-assed excuse tossed over his shoulder. No one really seems to notice why he leaves either until Max sniffs the air, and there’s no doubt in Will’s mind that she understands what happened when she freezes, gaze snapping over to the couch—to Will. Her gaze is sharp, judging, and Will can only handle it for a second before he shifts his eyes away, breaking eye contact, trying his hardest to act normal and praying he isn’t failing when Mike slinks back into the room, smelling like he practically bathed himself in cologne. But despite the thick, heady scent of the cologne, he can still pick up the bloomed smell of his scent underneath, even when Mike sits as far away from him on the other side of the couch this time. It doesn’t hurt—it doesn’t—not even when Mike refuses to talk to him the rest of the night.
They don’t talk about it. Really, they don’t talk at all for almost two days, spending the Sunday not speaking and the Monday at school almost avoiding each other. And this time it does hurt—it makes him want to snarl, to steal the spot of anyone sitting in his normal spot next to Mike in classes and at lunch, but he doesn’t. Despite having a dumb alpha brain now, Will is smart enough and cares way more than enough to realize he may have fucked up last night. The last thing he wants is to ruin their friendship over something as stupid as his crush, a crush he still has no idea if it’s reciprocated. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give up—his years of love, all his other friendships—just to make sure he still has Mike in his life somehow.
They’re still not talking when they finish school and are all getting on their bikes, ready to bike home. Normally at this point Will would be biking with Mike, either to Mike’s house or his own—there was practically never a time when they went home separately. Except today, he flashes Mike a tight lipped smile, trying to convey somehow that he hopes they’re okay but will give him space, and turns his bike the opposite way—alone. It’s only when he feels a tug at the back of his sweater that he looks back and startles a bit when it’s Mike tugging him back, not one of their other friends, looking anywhere but at him.
Vaguely, Will recognizes the sounds of the Party calling out various goodbyes, beginning their own treks to their houses, but he can’t bring himself to look away from the boy in front of him—frozen, as if one wrong move would send Mike running away again.
“Sorry.” Mike mumbles quietly, and Will almost tumbles off his bike in his desperation to lean close enough to hear him.
“What?” He gasps out, because what is he even apologizing for?
“The other day…” Mike trails off awkwardly, risking a glance over at Will. “I-…”
Mike gulps. “I know you said it’s your instincts because everything is still so new but I can’t control it either.”
Will’s eyebrows furrow almost immediately, his heart hammering away in his chest. “Your… reaction?”
Mike nods, blinking a few times before he tugs the high collar of his shirt to the side, just enough to show off a small swollen lump on his neck—his scent gland.
“I’ve tried everything but it just won’t go down when you’re around.”
The words feel like they’re muffled by cotton, Will’s mouth watering as he stares at the swollen gland. It’s not leaking this time but he can almost imagine if it was—hidden away under Mike’s shirt all day, smearing oil into the cotton fabric until he had a hand, or a mouth, to help him. And Mike had said that it’s swollen when he’s around. When he’s around. Will. He knows Mike isn’t an idiot, and Mike has dealt with this presentation thing for much longer than him, so he also knows Mike knows what this means—they both do.
“And it hurts.” Mike whines, “It’s so achy and I can’t even get it to… oil like it’s supposed to when it’s swollen.”
“You, uh-“ Will swallows harshly, gaze still stuck on his neck. “Can’t?”
“No.” He frowns, and as if to prove a point he rubs his thumb harshly over the gland.
Will practically feels his pupils dilating as he watches Mike rub over his own gland, and proving his own point, nothing comes out even when he presses harder.
Will snatches Mike’s hand away after a moment, “Don’t do that.” He frowns. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Mike scoffs lightly, looking perturbed, “It hurts anyway, at least I’m trying to make it better.”
“Maybe you just need to try something different.” The words fall from his lips the same time his brain does out of his head.
Mike doesn’t answer immediately, giving him a partially squinted look as if trying to decipher him before he blinks, as if accepting whatever conclusion he had come to.
“Can I come over?”
It was hardly an out of the ordinary request, but something about the request now of all times has the small remainder of Will’s head spinning. He had been feeling wound up all week, enough to lead to the events of the other night, and now the thought of Mike coming over, coming into his room, was winding him even tighter.
“Yeah, okay.”
And maybe it’s a stupid decision of his, one he might come to regret later on, but for now, it could hardly be bad if it made Mike grin at him like he was.
They’re on his bed, laying down, idly talking about some homework assignment due next week, one Will hasn’t even looked at, when he starts to feel it. There’s a warmth building in his abdomen, enough that it breaks his attention away from his sketchbook and the soothing sound of Mike’s talking, enough that he winces and catches the moment Mike does too. And instead of focusing on his own problems and trying to figure out why he’s suddenly feeling so weird, he can’t think of anything but the way Mike begins to poke at his neck again.
“Are you okay?” He questions, voice a bit more unsteady than normal, but thankfully Mike doesn’t seem to notice.
Mike nods but winces when he presses down on his covered gland. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just hurting again.”
“Maybe you should… see a doctor or something.” Will suggests meekly.
Mike sends him a look, lip scrunching slightly. “My dad always gets weird whenever I try to see a presentation specialist. It’s fine, I’ll just… deal with it.”
And because he can’t seem to keep his mouth shut or brain straight around him- “I could try.”
Mike freezes the same moment he does.
“Try… what?” Mike’s expression is almost cautious as his hand drops slightly from his gland.
“Um.” His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “Helping. I was able to do it last time.”
At the mention of last time, Mike flinches slightly, the pinched expression coming back onto his face as his cheeks flush. Will mentally curses himself out for being such an idiot and bringing it up. Of course it would make him embarrassed—he had practically sucked on his neck until he slicked in his pants in the same room as all of their friends.
“Okay.”
Even though it had been him to make the suggestion, Will freezes, mouth dropping open as he stares, wide eyed, at Mike.
“Wait, are you sure?” He asks, voice trembling every so slightly.
He wants it to be true, so, so bad. Inside of him he can feel the change even before Mike’s response, the way his inner alpha claws at the cage of his mind, snarling, paws thumping against the bars as it begs—demands—to be released so it could taste, lick, bite.
“Y-yeah.” Mike stutters, and Will feels his eyes glaze over this time when he finally reaches up and pulls the collar of his shirt down, exposing his scent gland. “It feels nice when you do it. Maybe that’s part of why I keep letting you do it.”
Just the sight of the swollen puffy gland has Will fighting back a groan but the moment Mike’s confession registers in his brain, it slips out anyway, breathless and quiet. It’s clear Mike picks up on it when he flushes a pale pink, but Will doesn’t dwell on it enough to feel embarrassed, quickly leaning forward, shuffling closer to Mike, before he replaces where Mike’s hand used to be over his gland with his.
Will rubs at it gently, jolting slightly when he feels just how swollen it was. There were obvious signs of irritation, of where Mike had probably rubbed at it hard enough to burn to try and get it to oil but just couldn’t. At the feeling of the first few tentative touches, Mike relaxes, a shiver traveling through his body as he sighs, eyes fluttering slightly, but despite his relaxation, the gland stays swollen and puffy.
Will leans in after a moment and soothes his fingers over the spot, earning him a pleased shiver from Mike who’s flush starts to spread as his scent starts eagerly leaking out—practically screaming pleased omega. His eyes flutter, almost rolling back when he catches a whiff of the smell and he leans in more, nosing at Mike’s neck and he can feel himself getting scent drunk already.
“Can I…” He trails off, breath puffing out into Mike’s neck, right over his gland.
He watched the way Mike’s skin prickles, goosebumps erupting over his skin as he shivers and his flush deepens. “Y-yeah.”
Will doesn’t wait another moment before nosing into his gland, inhaling directly from the source before he groans lowly and licks at it. It’s kitten licks at first, soft, attempting to soothe the angry gland rather than stimulate it, but it’s just when he starts to taste the first hints of the oil that what little control he has snaps, and in seconds his tongue goes from slow, controlled licks, to desperate rasps over his gland. There’s no question that it must ache, the deep redness of the gland giving it away almost as much as the small flinches of Mike’s body with every harsh press, but the moment the first drops of oil hit Will’s tongue, Mike trembles before falling boneless beneath him.
The two flop back onto the pillows of Will’s bed, Mike spread out, relaxed against the soft downy fluff as he bares his neck further, tilting his head the opposite way—inviting Will back in. Will presses closer, his arms caging around Mike’s head as he buries his head back into his neck, licking longer stripes this time up his gland, coaxing the first real drops of oil to start spilling. It tastes just as good as last time and he eagerly starts to suck, light as first before growing harsher when the entire gland grows wet.
He feels and hears it when Mike shakily groans beneath him, body stiffening, almost locking up, before he feels him shift and then there’s frantic breaths against his own neck. The sensation hardly registers in his brain, barely giving him enough time to prepare himself before Mike is nosing at his own scent gland. Fuck.
It wasn’t often that Mike touched his gland, no one really did, it was usually him rubbing himself all over Mike’s gland and leaving his own left out, but the knowledge, the feeling, of Mike wanting to scent him back had him licking harder over his gland.
Mike pants into his gland for a moment before his tongue joins the picture, licking once, briefly over Will’s own gland and Will freezes. There’s a staticky feeling building in his brain, spreading all throughout his body as he catalogues the feeling of Mike licking at his gland, and once it registers, he can’t stop his mind from wandering. The thought of him continuing, of licking, sucking—biting—further at his gland has his mind going blank before he redoubles his efforts, sucking more eagerly at Mike’s neck, practically smearing the oil across his mouth and down his chin, smothering his face in his scent.
That seems to be enough consent for Mike to continue because he does, licking more firmly over Will’s gland until it swells almost instantly, oil bubbling up in seconds because he has never been this turned on in his life. He could die happily here, face buried in Mike’s gland, sucking oil eagerly down his throat, drinking it down like ambrosia, but a new scent hits him, one that’s more familiar this time—the scent of slick.
This time he really does groan into Mike’s neck, loudly, and he pulls back. Will stares down at Mike for a moment, taking in his disheveled appearance, neck reddening and swollen, slowly leaking oil from his still aroused gland, mouth shiny and coated in his own oil, and pupils blown absolutely wide. He lasts another second, another moment of simply staring down at Mike before he lunges forward again, but this time it isn’t to mouth at his gland, but to rub the two together. Rubbing glands together wasn’t something people typically did, reserved usually for couples or for trusted friends and pack, but rubbing oiled glands together was another thing entirely—it would ensure their scents were ingrained into each other for days, a telltale sign that people were mates.
The first slide of their oiled up glands against each other has Mike scrambling beneath him, hands flying up to clutch desperately at Will’s shoulders as he twitches and trembles—not to get away, but to shove his neck further into it, grinding their glands together. Almost immediately after comes the combining of their scents, the mixing of old books and lavender and cedar and freshness and slick—another fresh wave of it, stronger this time.
“F-fuck, Will-“ Mike wheezes out, thrashing beneath him as he rubs their glands together harder.
Will presses himself further into Mike’s neck as a result, his lips brushing against the bone of his shoulder in a ghost of a kiss. What he wouldn’t give to kiss him, to have their scents intertwined everywhere on their bodies, smearing the oils on their lips together until it was almost impossible to differentiate where each of them began and ended. His lips press more insistent this time, trailing along Mike’s shoulder as his brain is flooded with images: of him kissing Mike, of Mike kissing back, of open mouths and twisted tongues, of biting, gnashing teeth, of-
In moments he’s spiralling, glints of teeth flashing in his mind as he imagines them moving south from Mike’s mouth, nipping along his pulse point before they settle somewhere lower, better—his scent gland. He imagines biting him, sinking his teeth into the swollen gland, listening to the way Mike would groan beneath him, oil and scent soaking into his senses. Will would wait for him to beg for it, offering himself up willingly until Will would bite for real, better this time, with the proper fangs, ensuring he would always have his favourite person by his side—-but this isn’t his fantasies, so when Will pulls back, slipping his gland from Mike’s and replacing it with his teeth, Mike freezes in place, not begs him for more.
“Will?” He croaks out, still frozen as Will ghosts his normal teeth over the gland, as if teasing it.
“Mmm?” He mumbles into his neck, brain half melted from oil and glands and scent.
“What are you doing?”
Will mutters something unintelligible back, barely distinguishable even by his own ears as he mouths more insistently over the gland, never quite doing anything but never shying away. Mike shivers again beneath him, another thick coating of oil welling to the surface before his hands on Will’s shoulders shove at him, pushing him back until his hands plant on the bed on either side of Mike’s head to hold himself up.
He blinks slowly, mind reeling as it tries to comprehend what just happened, but the moment it does he scrambles further up, suddenly wide eyed. He just tried to bite Mike. And sure, it wasn’t with his alpha fangs—at least yet—but he still tried to bite him.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Will rushes out, hands gesturing nervously in the air. “That’s not what I- I didn’t mean-”
Mike sits up and grabs at one of his hands. “I know.” He emphasizes, giving Will a rather pointed look. “You aren’t normally…”
Will groans, ripping his hand back to bury his face into it. “I know. I feel like I’m going a bit crazy because all I can think about is you and I can’t stop wanting to-!” He gestures wildly between the two of them with his other hand. “And I’m sorry because I can’t believe I just tried to do that! That’s not why I offered, I promise.”
“You can’t stop thinking about me?” Mike questions, his tone rather breathless.
Will raises his head slightly, peering through his fingers with a frown. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”
Mike’s lips flatten out. “Well, I could talk about how I think you’re been in pre-rut the last few days but have been too stupid to notice but I thought maybe we should talk about this before we get distracted.”
“Pre-rut?” Will shrieks, pushing himself even further back from Mike.
Rationally, it all made sense. It had been weeks since his presentation and he still hadn’t had his first proper rut yet, and all the signs—irritation, higher aggression, clinginess, higher need to scent—all pointed directly at one thing: his rut. Maybe he really was an idiot for not noticing.
“Yes.” Mike groans, “So you really had no idea?”
Will shakes his head quickly, biting at his lip slightly. Maybe that was partially a lie, maybe he did have a slight idea earlier in the week that something was wrong, but he had never thought enough about it to comprehend why.
“I-, I-” He can’t seem to manage words.
Mike puffs a breath out, the air sending one of his longer curls floating for a brief moment before he shifts back in the bed, heaving himself up to sit more level with Will, but it’s at that moment that Will’s head starts spinning again because right under Mike is a damp spot. It’s from his slick almost certainly, the gushing he smelt earlier, and it has his mouth watering all over again before he quickly averts his eyes, trying to pretend like he hadn’t just seen the hottest thing in his entire life.
“I’m not an idiot but I think I have to be honest- I knew it wasn't just your instincts when you started scenting me. Or at least I hoped it wasn’t just that because—I already said this—but I liked it. I liked when you would spend time with me or- scent me, and I didn’t know if you were doing it for that reason too or if your presentation somehow stunted your brain too.”
“No- maybe-” He tries to fight through the brain fog but his brain keeps looping back to that damp patch on his sheet. His sheets.
“Will, I need you to be honest with me. Was this just some… instinct thing to you?” Mike’s tone is cautious, almost hurt just at the thought.
Will’s brain catches on the word honest, stuck somewhere in between wet sheets and pants and the meat of Mike’s thighs-
“I want to lick your slick off my sheets and spend the rest of the night with my face between your thighs.”
He blinks, brain catching up to the rest of Mike’s words. “Not an instinct thing, I’ve liked you for years- Oh my god.”
His brain finally catches up to what he said now.
“Oh my god.” Will repeats.
Mike sits in front of him, a stupefied look on his face before he slowly looks down, at the spot he had been sitting in before, and his face explodes bright red.
“Oh my god…” It’s Mike this time, quieter than either time Will had spoken.
“You..?” Mike questions, still in that quiet voice, eyes searching Will’s face almost desperately as he shifts in place.
Will nods, unable to deny it now that he’s dug the hole himself. “Y-yeah.”
The two pause for a moment, neither speaking.
“I think you might be closer to real rut now than pre-rut.” Mike murmurs eventually.
Will nods again. “Probably.”
“So that… probably wouldn’t be the best idea.” Mike swallows thickly, but despite his words, his scent betrays him.
Will smells it almost immediately, the thick, sweetening scent of a fresh gush of slick, and in seconds his eyes are darting down, as if expecting to see a new wet spot beneath him and is heavily disappointed when there’s not. But despite that, his mouth waters again and when he finally tears his gaze back up to Mike’s face he almost reels back at the desire he finds there.
“Fuck it- please.” Mike says, breathy, and Will has to almost restrain himself to wait. To check.
“Are you sure?” He pants out, “What if it’s just my pheromones messing with you-”
“Shut up.” Mike groans, “See this is why I tried to talk about this earlier, but idiot alphas never listen.” He shakes his head briefly and his eyes clear ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t have let any other alpha treat me this way. You think I’d let Lucas rub all over me like some sort of dog whenever he was feeling clingy? No. You think my gland would swell the moment I was around him? No. Will, you’re the idiot here. I liked it, liked you- like you.”
Will kisses him in place of an answer—something he’s dreamt about for years—leaning in before he can second guess it, hand cupping Mike’s jaw, and presses his lips against his. Mike is still for a moment, and if he hadn’t just thoroughly confessed his feelings just seconds prior, Will might’ve panicked and ran away, convinced he ruined everything, but it’s clear he hasn’t, clear he might’ve just made the best decision of his life when Mike finally groans and leans into the kiss.
They meet somewhere in the middle of soft and passionate, lips moving, mouths opening. They skirt around tongue for a while, hands wandering as they become more acquainted with the way their mouths could meld, the way teeth could nip along lips, the way two people could become one, their oils mixing on their lips. But it’s not enough, not for the years Will has spent dreaming of this moment, not for the heat continuing to build in his body, not for the alpha growling in the back of his head, screaming for him to take, take, take, and it’s so hard to block it out, almost impossible with each searing kiss—so he doesn’t. Will lets the feeling crack through his skull, crawling into the depths of his brain—his neural wiring—before he’s prying open Mike’s mouth, licking his way inside.
It’s so much hotter, so much wetter, enough that it has him imagining just how wet other places might be. Will groans, panting into Mike’s open mouth as he heaves himself back for a moment. Mike blinks slowly up at him, eyelashes fluttering as his chest shakes with quick breathes; his mouth is sloppy and wet, smeared with their combined oils and spit, an ambrosial mix, one Will thinks he could drink down forever.
“You’re so hot.” Will groans out, lunging back down to capture Mike’s lips in another feverish kiss.
“You think I’m hot?” Mike murmurs, tearing his lips away after a moment, brushing them against Will’s, just far enough that he could pull back from every attempt of Will’s to crush them back together, teasing. “Even before you presented you were all I thought about during my heats. Your arms, your lips, you.”
The confession has Will groaning again, louder, as he desperately attempts to reconnect their lips to no avail.
“But once you presented-” Mike’s pupils are blown wide, flush deepening as the air around them begins to sweeten even further—slick. “I stole a sweater you left at my house and I hid it in my nest. I used it throughout my heat- pretended it was you there- rode my fingers wishing it was you instead.”
This time Will whines, nosing at Mike’s cheek as he presses insistent kisses along his jaw.
“Ple-ase.” He whines, voice cracking in the middle. “Let me kiss you. I’ll do anything.”
“I don’t want to imagine you anymore.” Mike whispers, grabbing onto Will’s chin before he finally pulls him in, kissing him.
It’s even better this time, or at least Will thinks it might be, his brain half melting out of his head with every hot lick of Mike’s tongue into his mouth. He’s overwhelmed with sensations, the tingling heat that’s been growing stronger and stronger ever since Mike sat on his bed, their mixing scents, the throbbing in his jeans. Their lips move frantically against each other, desperate for more, saliva and oil bubbling to the surface, mixing as they drip down Mike’s neck, leaving his neck as soaked as the rest of him smells. And Will wants to lick it off him, suck it down until he’s addicted to the taste of them and then chase it down with something solely Mike.
“Let me taste you.” He begs, hardly pulling away from Mike’s mouth long enough to force the words out, his tongue laving over the line of drool down the side of Mike’s mouth. “Fuck, let me eat you out, please.”
“You-” Mike gulps, his throat catching for a moment when Will trails his lips down, following it. “You’re really focused on that, huh.”
“Mmm.” Will hums, mouthing along Mike’s collarbone before he licks, sucking up a mix of them.
His hands wander for a moment, slipping up underneath Mike’s shirt. They trace over his waist, fingers fitting perfectly into the slope of his hips, nails digging in ever so slightly as his brain fills with thoughts of just how well he could hold him like this. It’s taking over his thoughts, his whole brain, scent deepening as the thought flits by quickly before it sticks—how he could hold him down, pull him back against each thrust with a grip like this. But before he can get too distracted, Will tears his hands away, sliding them further up Mike’s chest until he can shove the rest of his shirt up along with them.
He reluctantly tears himself away from Mike’s neck, blinking heavily down at him. “Off. Take this off.” He yanks at the offending material, almost tearing it in his haste.
Mike shakily nods, sitting up quickly as he attempts to throw the shirt off, almost getting caught in it as he slips the material off his head. It lands somewhere behind the two of them, lost to Will’s floor and immediately gone out of his mind when his eyes are finally met with the sight of Mike’s bare chest.
“Take yours off too.” Mike demands.
Or at least Will thinks he might, because he’s stripping his own shirt off in the next moment, head going hazy as he collapses back on top of Mike, nosing at his now bare collarbones. He nips at one lightly before laving over the skin with his tongue, heat building within his body to a smolder, threatening to burn through him when he hears Mike whine quietly. The sound reverberates in his head and time slows, almost stopping as he replays the noise over and over again. Fuck. Will wants to hear him whine again—louder this time.
Will shifts on the bed, shuffling further down Mike’s body as his hands continue to wander, naturally seeking out their new favourite place along his waist as he presses light kisses down from Mike’s chest to his stomach. He hums against Mike’s skin, nuzzling into his stomach as his eyes flutter closed, wisps of Mike’s scent hitting him stronger now—he was almost there. Just as he’s about to move, to tear his lips away from Mike’s skin and move them further down, he feels it, a slight vibration against his lips, and it’s only when he fights through the haze in his head that he realizes what it is—Mike is purring.
“Fuck.” Will whispers, eyes shooting open as a responding groan is pulled from his mouth.
He knew it was possible—every omega could purr, it was a known fact they were taught in health class, but Will just never thought he would be the person to make Mike purr. It was rare, something drawn out only during intense moments of comfort or security, and in some cases, arousal, and it wasn’t difficult for him to imagine which of the three Mike was feeling now—although he probably wouldn’t be wrong in assuming all three. Never even in his wildest dreams had he imagined Mike purring for him, it always seemed too intimate, too far past the line of being just best friends, but now, hearing and feeling Mike’s chest rumble beneath him, it was probably the best sound Will had ever heard in his life.
“Mike.” Will breathes out, and there must be something in his voice, or maybe his eyes, because when Mike flutters his eyes open and looks up at him, his purr stutters.
“Y-yeah?” Mike’s voice trembles, still rumbling through his words.
“I really need to eat you out now.” He warns, or at least it feels like a warning, because the next moment he’s popping the button of Mike’s jeans and yanking them and his boxers off.
Mike gasps this time, sitting half up in surprise as his purrs get cut off, but Will hardly notices, attention drawn instead, much further down. The inside of his thighs are so wet they’re practically glistening, thick strands of slick stretching between them as they part and Will can’t help himself from inching closer, forcing Mike’s legs to part even wider. He wants- no, needs to see how far they can stretch so he watches, completely entranced, as he slips a hand under one of Mike’s thighs and lifts it and a strand finally snaps; it splatters half onto him and half onto Mike and Will flickers his gaze upwards for one quick moment, catching the exact moment Mike’s expression pinches, clearly embarrassed as his face flushes crimson. But Will wants to kiss the expression off his face and catalogue that memory in his mind forever, because there was nothing to be embarrassed about when he’s been dreaming about this for years.
The hand on Mike’s leg presses down harder until it bends back against his chest, leaving him open and exposed, and this time when Will risks another glance up at Mike’s face, it’s not only embarrassment he sees there, but desire. Desire to be touched, desire to be wanted, desire to be spread open under the alpha he had let scent him for weeks- and Will is the exact same, the feeling spreading through his body until the only thing he can feel is heat. It’s then that he finally lets his gaze lower all the way, and the groan he lets out when he does is downright filthy.
In seconds Will feels his inner alpha howling, clawing at the edges of his mind and he’s right there alongside it this time, following his instincts blindly as they demand he put his face where it belongs and please his omega. He lurches down and instinctively, Mike flinches, his thighs tensing, attempting to squeeze around his head but Will pins down his legs, digging his fingers into the meat of his thighs in order to keep them still. As his fingers dig in deeper, forcing Mike’s thighs to stay, he hears him and fuck. It’s a breathy, pathetic sound, barely loud enough to even be considered a whimper but one of the hottest sounds he’s ever heard Mike make, and if the noise didn’t convince Will that maybe Mike enjoyed being pushed around, the sight did—a thick gush of slick leaking out of his hole. And Will wants nothing more than to lick it back up or fuck it back up into his hole but there’s another thing he wants more in the meantime.
Before any of that he kisses along the inside of Mike’s thighs, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses as he moves higher and higher until it’s not just his mouth leaving Mike’s thighs wet but his own slick too. Mike’s inner thighs are smeared with slick and the moment Will’s mouth brushes against them is when he begins to lick, taking in tongue full after tongue full of omega slick and drinking it down, cleaning up his thighs just for each subsequent gush of slick to dirty them all over again, but he wasn’t complaining—it just gave him a longer excuse to stay down there. Every taste lingered in his mouth and each lick felt almost indulgent, his mind blanking; it was better than his lips, better than his oil, better than anything Will has ever tasted before and if were to die today he would die a happy man having gotten to taste this.
This was a taste, a place even, to be revered, to be preached about at chapels and prayed for in church—the type of thing to be spoken of in confessionals, a sin he couldn’t resist, bewitching and intoxicating. And he had spent half his life doing the opposite, wishing he didn’t feel this way for his best friend, didn’t crave his taste and scent like a drug, didn’t pray one day for him to feel the same, but he shouldn’t have—he should have been here.
As the slick slowly dissipates from Mike’s thighs, gulped down gush after gush, Will’s mouth travels further up and it’s then that he finds his prize or prizes—the glands on Mike’s thighs. He teases them, sucking and biting at the small glands until they, like the one on Mike’s neck, begin to oil too; it’s less here, only leaking out the smallest amount as Will rasps over them with his tongue, but it’s just as good. And so he sucks and bites until they’re swollen and red, looking worse than the one on his neck, leaving hickeys and bites along the inside of Mike’s thighs until he’s trembling, begging him to touch him.
“Will-” Mike groans, thighs shaking beneath Will’s mouth. “Fuck… Please- please more- I can’t-”
He presses another soft kiss against the mark and Mike whines this time—loud.
“Please. You said you were going to- to eat me out so please.”
“Can I?” Will asks, brushing his lips even higher until they brush against the inner crease of Mike’s thigh.
Mike jolts beneath him, nudging Will’s head closer to where he so clearly wants it. “Yes!” He snarls. “I’ve been telling you yes! I want you so fucking bad-”
With confirmation and a little begging out of the way Will doesn’t bother waiting for Mike to finish as he finally relents—he would do anything after a little begging from Mike—and buries his head forward this time, licking a quick stripe up his hole before he dives in. Now presented with the exact scenario of almost every wet dream he’s had since Mike’s presentation, his mouth is nonstop in its motion, eagerly licking and sucking and moaning against his rim, sending vibrations through the abused muscle as Mike thrashes beneath him.
He gets lost for a while in the feast before him, pressing closer and closer as he sucks and licks, almost drowning in slick as Mike’s body continues to gush. With his mind lost to the sensation of wet, soaked omega before him, he hardly notices his hand massaging further and further up Mike’s thigh until his moans pitch higher and he jolts, breaking Will out of his slick induced mindmelt. Will pulls his face back slightly, eyes half lidded as they flutter open and peer to the side, and it’s just in the moment that his brain registers he was rubbing at one of his glands that Mike’s starts to purr again. It’s a halfbroken, stuttery noise, rumbles cut off every few seconds by a groan or gasp, and when Will dives back in, sucking harder against his hole, the sounds of Mike purring is drowned almost completely out, broken apart by rising moans until it’s only in the back of Will’s mind that it’s even there.
“Can you-” Mike cuts himself off, throwing his head back with a low groan when Will hums against his rim again. “Fuck- can you do more?”
Will knows what he means, knows what he wants, and wants it too so fucking bad he can hardly breathe.
“Can you finger me? Want to finally feel you inside me- fuck! Will- how are you so good at this?” He’s panting now. “I need it—told you I didn’t want to have to imagine it anymore.”
Mike’s begging now, hands flying down to thread through Will’s hair, holding his head just where he wants it and Will relishes in it—in Mike finally asking for what he wants.
“C’mon, please?”
The howling in his head stops for one quiet moment before it explodes, louder than ever before and Will can do nothing to block it out. There’s bolts of electricity shooting through his body, leaving him trembling and aching against Mike’s body and he’s just so hot, his body sweltering as the fire in his stomach continues to grow. With each of Mike’s sweet pleas his mind races, growing darker as it fills with images of Will shutting him up, holding him down on the bed, gagging him with something—maybe a pillow, his hands—as he makes him take his fingers, then his cock, then his knot. He wants to feel him squirm beneath him, struggling to take it all but able to do nothing but take as Will gives it to him.
There’s no way to turn back now, not with his mind and his alpha so fixated on Mike’s pleasure, but as Will sucks a hickey onto his inner thigh, fingers circling his rim, he knows without a doubt that’s no turning back for Mike either—not when he’s this desperate for it. Mike groans, low and shaky, his fingers tightening in Will’s hair, tugging harshly when he skims the pads of his fingers over his hole once, teasing—he couldn’t help it—but then he starts. Two fingers instead of one slip inside, sliding in fully until the base of Will’s knuckles rest against his rim; he knows Mike can take it, knows he doesn’t need any warm up because of how fucking soaked he is.
“Fuck.” Mike tugs again at his hair, shoving his face further in between his legs and Will indulges him—rut taken over his brain enough he can’t even think of denying him.
“Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou-”
Will’s bedroom fills with breathy, whiny moans and the wet, sloppy noises of his fingers and mouth, a cacophony of noises that sounds better than any record, any mixtape he’s ever heard. With every thrust of his fingers, every slide of them against the soft silken walls of Mike, it grows, squelching louder and louder as Mike continues to gush, despite Will’s mouth there to catch it all; a third finger slips in amongst the chaos, hardly noticeable over the noise and sensations, but the moment Will angles all three up, bending them to drag against his walls, Mike positively shrieks, legs kicking out—he’s noticed now. But Will has noticed something too, his scent and slick drunk brain running solely on rut induced desire catches on the noise so he does it again, rubbing his fingers harder this time, and Mike thrashes again, almost knocking Will in the head with his knee as his legs instinctively jolt closed.
Without bothering to pull his mouth back, Will snaps. “Stay.”
He needs Mike to calm down, needs him to relax—submit—so he can’t help the growl that rumbles out of his throat, loud and irritated. It catches the both of them off guard, but instead of Mike freezing like he had expected, quieting down and listening, he continues to shake, another thick gush of slick dripping out of him as he chirps.
And this time, Will’s vision goes red and he bites. His teeth sink hard into Mike’s thigh, growling into it as he picks up the pace with his fingers, drilling into him, and Mike can’t do anything but tremble and whimper and moan as he drills into his prostate. But he can’t last for long away from the dripping treat in front of him so after a moment, Will unlatches his jaw from Mike’s thigh, groaning lowly in his throat at the mark left behind, practically screaming claimed omega, before he dives back in, eagerly drinking down the new gushes of slick as his fingers continue their pace. It isn’t long before Mike is shaking constantly above him, each thrust of his fingers causing him to jolt and chirp, and Will feels it the moment it happens—Mike cumming. He gushes around his tongue and fingers, hole tightening, almost cutting the circulation in his fingers off for a moment before he clenches rhythmically, thrashing above him once again as he lets out broken moans.
There’s so much slick it’s leaking down Mike’s thighs and Will’s chin, smearing his bedsheets and leaving them stained, and when Will darts forward again, licking up one final gush that Mike pushes out, he’s yanked back harshly by the hand still in his hair.
“S-sensitive.” Mike’s trembling still, legs jolting every few moments as he tries to relax from the aftershocks of his orgasm.
Will finally relents, sliding his fingers out slowly, pressing a soft kiss against Mike’s inner thigh when he winces from the feeling, obviously overstimulated. The moment they’re free, Will leans back ever so slightly, pushing himself up to sit back on his hunches, staring down at the heavenly sight in front of him, pupils blown wide enough Mike couldn’t make out even one sliver of colour left in his eyes.
“Holy fuck.” Mike groans out, hands dragging over his face as he lets out a shaky laugh. “That was so good- holy shit.”
He peers out between his fingers and Will can just barely make out the pleased grin on his lips. “I can’t believe you’re in rut and that was what you wanted so badly. I thought you would’ve been trying to fuck me.”
Will’s face flushes, nails digging into his palm as he tries to hold back from doing just that, alpha is his head howling for it, loud enough he can barely think. “I- I have been but I care about you so I can’t just-”
They’re kissing again before he can even finish, and Will groans into it the moment it registers in his brain. Eating Mike out had been amazing, something straight out of his dreams, but kissing Mike was an experience unparalleled to anything else. The kiss was desperate, mouths opening immediately as Mike dove into the kiss, sucking his own slick from Will’s mouth as he slipped his tongue deeper into his mouth, moaning at the taste. Their hands are just as needy, wandering and grabbing onto each other wherever they can reach, and the moment Will’s hands slide from Mike’s thighs up to his waist, Mike lurches back, tearing his mouth away with a loud groan.
“I’m on suppressants.” He starts, and Will does not like where this is going—he knows exactly how little control he has left, and with each word leaving Mike’s mouth he can feel his control diminishing. “The good ones. So there’s no chance that I’ll-”
Will was right to think he didn’t like where this was going, right to know he was barely holding on, because before Mike even got the chance to finish Will’s vision was flooding red once again, and this time he didn’t hold back from shoving Mike back against the pillows. He growls again, low in his throat as his knees shove their way under Mike’s hips, angling them up as he pushes down Mike's knees to his chest, positioning him just as he wants him—just how Mike wants it too.
“Want it that bad?” He finds himself saying, barely in control of his mouth anymore as he starts undoing the button on his jeans.
In the haze of everything else, it almost slipped Will’s mind just how uncomfortable it was to be hard in jeans, but the moment the button pops free and he has his zipper undone, it feels like relief, and he knows something even better is just within reach. Now half free, Mike grabs his face and tugs him back down into a searing kiss, one that has Will struggling to shove down his underwear, wrestling his them and his jeans off his legs and the moment he does, Mike pulls back, desperation clear on his face.
“Hurry up.” Mike complains, hands moving from Will’s face to his shoulders, tugging him further down on top of him. “What? Not alpha enough to fuck me? Gonna wait around for someone better to come?”
Will’s vision blurs, gritting his teeth together loud enough to hear them creak.
“Maybe I should’ve gone with someone else- let them scent me for weeks until I was so pent up my gland wouldn’t go down.” He’s taunting him now, a snarky grin spread wide across his face. “Maybe I should’ve asked El.”
The world slows, almost pausing, as all the blood in Will’s body rushes to his face, vision going completely red as he growls, but it isn’t low this time—it’s loud, completely drowning out any other noise in the room and it has Mike freezing beneath him. The images won’t stop flashing through his brain: El and Mike kissing when they were together, the look on everyone's faces when Mike presented as an omega and El was an alpha, the way the Party looked at them as if they would get back together—before it changes slightly, thoughts devolving into El scenting Mike in his basement, El is his place, hands all over Mike’s naked body and he can’t fucking take it-
He looks down and if he wasn’t gone before, he is now—utterly and completely gone, because it’s his dick out, not anything of El’s that he sees, leaking, knot already beginning to swell ever so slightly at the base, hovering right over Mike’s dripping entrance. And he knows it’s dripping for him, knows all of Mike’s slick is from everything they had been doing, but it doesn’t stop the all-consuming feeling in him to prove it—to prove that El couldn’t do this to him. So he does, he doesn’t fight back against it, lets Mike’s bratty attitude win and gives him exactly what he wants—removing one hand from the back of Mike’s leg to grasp at his own dick, gasping lightly when he does, and he angles it down, rubbing the leaking head against Mike’s hole.
They both moan, shaky, broken noises falling from both their lips at the feeling. And for a moment Will thinks about staying there for a moment, taking in the sight and the feeling, relinquishing in a dream coming true after 10 long years, but his resolve completely shatters when he feels Mike gush out more slick. Their eyes meet as Will’s eyes flicker up to Mike’s, and he already looks wrecked, a heady flush on his face, hair a complete mess, but despite all of that, there’s a wide smirk on his face, one that Will wants to ruin.
“Do you need me to te–nghh-” Mike starts but Will doesn’t want to hear him finish, he wants to fuck the voice out of him, so he does.
He slots his dick right up against his entrance and the moment words start falling from Mike’s lips he presses forward, gentle at first, just enough to push the head in and it almost pops in, stretching Mike wide around him. The moment it pops in, his brain melts entirely, giving way to the fire that had been building in his body all day, letting the rut finally take over, and maybe normally he would’ve waited, given Mike a moment to adjust to the stretch, but with nothing but his alpha left in his head, he can’t do anything but listen when it tells him to take.
Will’s hips shove forward, pushing heavily until in one forceful thrust he’s buried to the base inside Mike and it feels so. Fucking. Good. Mike trembles beneath him again, his eyes almost bulging out of his head as his mouth falls open, letting out small pants as his hands strain against Will’s shoulders. Through his hazy eyes, Will stares down for all of one moment, taking in the desperate expression on Mike’s face, before he pulls back, pulling out almost all the way and thrusting back in, practically drilling his way back into Mike’s body.
He feels the way Mike’s slick coats around him, sticking to his dick, and with each thrust, he feels himself starting to fuck it out of his body too, covering both of their thighs as Mike practically floods with slick. The scent of the room goes heady, thick with the scent of omega slick and alpha rut, a unique mix that, if Will still hadn’t any brains left, would’ve sent him spiraling even further.
Will’s hands travel up Mike’s body before landing on the back of Mike’s thighs, pressing them forward more and keeping his legs bent against his chest as he leans further down, driving further into him as his thrusts speed up. With each powerful thrust Mike’s body gets shoved further into the pillows at his headboard before the tight grip of Will’s hands on his legs drags him back again, a constant cycle that has Mike moaning through it, his nails clawing down Will’s back.
“F-uck!” Mike moans out, voice cracking as his nails dig in deeper, dragging dark red lines from the tops of Will’s shoulders all the way down to his lower back.
The sharp pain in his back is just enough to snap Will’s attention away from the backs of Mike’s thighs—how prettily the meat of them spills out between the gaps in his fingers—and draws it upwards, to Mike’s face this time, and he catches the moment a small pleased grin spreads across Mike’s face. As if he’s exactly where he wants to be.
It’s a beautiful sight, telling him all he needs to know about his performance and the way the two of them mix together perfectly, but, of course, it’s not enough for the greedy voice inside Will’s head. He wants to see Mike with his mouth open and panting, unable to even grin because he’s fucking him so good—so he releases his legs and pulls out, ignoring the almost immediate whine that Mike lets out, and he flips him in one clean movement.
For a moment no one moves, Mike freezing and Will sitting back, waiting for something—somehting he wasn’t even sure of, but he knows the moment it happens what it is. Mike shifts, unsteadily for a moment, peering over his shoulder quickly and gulping, eyes shakily tracking over Will’s body, and he must see something there—or maybe something in his brain tells him what Will’s waiting for—because he really moves this time. He shifts onto his knees, bringing them up under his body as he leans forward, pressing his chest to the ruined sheets of Will’s bed and his hips lift and then it hits- he’s fucking presenting—and perfectly at that.
“You-” Will swallows, drool filling his mouth as he stares for a moment, cataloging the sight away in the back of his mind. “You’re so perfect. So pretty.”
Mike’s responding moan is muffled, his head still buried in the sheets of Will’s bed, and before he could make any move to shift, to move his head from the bed to speak back, Will slips right back in and fucks him, even harder than before. His hands drag up Mike’s body before landing on his waist, curling into the divot there and digging his fingers in, using it like handles to drag him back into each powerful thrust. It’s driving Mike crazy, forcing choked gasps out with each thrust as it bangs up against his prostate and keeps him there, Will’s grip on his hips keeping him from wiggling away. It’s too much and too little and just enough, and vaguely Will is aware they’re probably ruining his sheets with how much omega slick is running out of Mike, but it’s a sign he’s doing his job, treating his omega good, so he’s hardly bothered by the thought of the clean up.
“Keep going- please, please, please.” Mike is loud, almost too loud as he whines.
So one hand slips from Mike’s waist to his upper back, pressing his chest further into the mattress, muffling his voice even further as his face presses into the sheets. And maybe it works to muffle some of his voice, whines and moans dulling in tone, it does nothing to mask the loud clap of their hips together as Will presses further in.
He can feel and hear Mike getting close because despite the sheets doing their job to muffle him, nothing can block out the sound and feeling of Mike’s thunderous purr, blossoming from a soft buzz into a full-bodied rumble. It’s louder than he’s ever heard it before and, alongside the way his body goes almost boneless beneath him, is a clear sign he’s close. So Will ramps up, flexing the muscles in his thighs as he digs his knees further into the bed, leaning over Mike’s back as he plants wet, open mouths kisses against the back of his neck. He grinds further into him, their hips almost sticking together with the amount of slick pouring out as Will changes pace entirely, switching from longer thrusts to short, faster ones, ramming into his prostate with each grind of his hips.
And instead of Mike being the one to beg, this time it’s Will.
“Please.” He whispers, pressing open mouthed kisses to the back of Mike’s neck because that’s all he wants. To please. To have Mike cumming around him. To please his omega in ways he’s never been pleasured before.
“So close, fuck, Will.” Mike whines out, shaking so hard beneath him he almost collapses. “So close, so close, fuck, please! Gonna cum- fuuuckk-”
So he keeps going, pressing kisses and bites along Mike’s neck as he keeps battering inside, drilling his cock home until it feels like coming home with each thrust. Will’s mouth finds its way to Mike’s scent gland eventually, as it always did, drawn to the overwhelming scent of happy, aroused omega and before he could talk himself out of it, he drags his teeth against the gland, careful to keep his fangs from touching it. And finally, he feels Mike freeze before his body explodes all at once, hole gushing and clenching down so hard he almost loses it completely as Mike cums. It’s almost too much, hitting him all at once as Mike’s mouth drops open, eyes rolling back as his hole gushes so much Will has to pause in his movements, plugging him up as he clenches down rhythmically around him.
The air around them seems to hum as Mike finally comes down from his high, trembling harder than Will has ever seen, and when Will finally shifts, he feels him jolt this time, fighting through the aftershocks.
“I know.” Will murmurs, kissing the back of Mike’s neck as he pulls back slightly. “Sorry, but can I- I need to- please, baby, can I knot you? I’ll be so good, I promise. I’ll make you feel so good.”
Mike whines again, trembling harder when Will continues to pull back before he pushes back in slowly.
“Please?” He kisses over Mike’s gland and feels the oil well up immediately. “I’ll be so good for you- I- please.”
He hears Mike swallow harshly before he turns slightly, peering back at him but he looks more collected now, despite his still trembling body.
“El would’ve done it already.” That taunting tone is back, and it’s clear he’s teasing, just doing it to rile him up, but Will can’t help but fall for it all over again.
In seconds he’s bearing his full weight down, forcing Mike further into the mattress as he mounts him and despite his sensitivity only moments before, Will doesn’t wait any longer before pounding back into him. His hips piston faster, no longer just focused on chasing Mike’s pleasure but also his own now, feeling the swell of his knot already starting, tugging on Mike’s rim with each brutal thrust, because this is the love of his goddamn life letting him fuck him—knot him.
“Fuck, is that-?” Mike groans out, finally beginning to notice the tugging as it grows stronger and stronger.
“Yeah.” Will pants out, vision growing hazy as Mike begins to tighten around the knot. “A-almost there. You- fuck- you ready?”
“Please.” Mike begs. “Knot me, alpha.”
It’s that exact word—alpha—that drives him over the edge, shoving his hips forward on one brutal thrust until his knot finally pops in and bulges, swelling rapidly until it locks just behind Mike’s rim, spreading him so wide he starts shaking again. There’s a moment, one quick beat, before Mike whimpers and he’s cumming all over again, clenching down around him, practically milking his knot as he squirts out slick and then it’s Will’s turn. His vision whites out as the sensations overwhelm him, the world narrowing down to the feeling of his omega squeezing his knot just right as he shoots deep within him, jolting with each rope of cum Mike milks out of his dick. It lasts a while, longer than Will thought was possible, each clench of Mike’s rim tugging another squirt out of his own cock until finally they both collapsed, boneless.
Will’s hands catch him moments before he were to collapse onto Mike’s back and he shifts the two of them so they can lay more comfortably on their sides, pressing in close against Mike’s back as his eyes flutter closed. And just as Will starts to finally come back to his senses, relaxing every so slightly when the wave of rut begins to dissipate for the time being, Mike runs his mouth again and ruins it.
“You didn’t claim me.”
Fuck.
Will groans, loudly, feeling his dick pulse inside of Mike, shooting out another dribble of cum as Mike laughs against him, his back shaking against Will’s chest.
“No.” Will grits out, nails digging into his palm with the effort not to think about how his mark would look on Mike’s neck, how it would feel to claim him.
“You should’ve.”
He freezes this time, nails digging hard enough to well blood to the surface. “Y-yeah?”
“Next time.” Mike promises, peering back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he bears his neck, showing off the already thoroughly marked gland, bruised and reddened, but it’s still missing something—his mark.
Will just groans loudly again, already feeling another wave close to hitting as Mike bursts back into laughter next to him. Next time he would.