Chapter Text
Mike heaved a sigh as he managed to insert the key into the lock, hearing the click as it turned. It had been a year since they’d graduated from Columbia College, and time had been spent working since then. He’d been lucky enough to find a job as a copywriter at Leo Burnett Co. with his Creative Writing Bachelor’s and Advertising minor. While it wasn’t what he dreamed of, it allowed him to have some time on the side to work on his own manuscript.
Will in the meantime had picked up a job with an afterschool program as a daycare art teacher with his Fine Arts degree; not exactly his dream either, but he’d taken to it fairly easily, coming home in the evening with a tired, fond smile on his face and regaling Mike with tales of what the kids had gotten up to under his watch.
They’d found a house in Wicker Park for cheap during their time in college, preferring to take the 30-minute “L” ride rather than room in the dorms in order to have more freedom together. The price of rent hadn’t truly mattered anyway considering the government stipend they still received under the guise of the Great 1986 Hawkins Earthquake (he guessed he’d give some thanks to the government for providing something).
They’d both been excited to have something as their own, and Mike was glad for it as he pushed the door open. It was nice to come home to their place, full of tchotchkes Will and him had picked up from across Illinois on sporadic trips during the summer breaks; pieces Will had made hung in any available space, along with blown up photos Jonathan had sent them of New York; mix-and-match pieces of decor scattered among the furniture that they’d ordered from Sears.
While Mike had, unfortunately, gone to work today, Will had taken the day off. The alarm had announced it was 6 a.m. before Mike shut it off, pressing a kiss to his lover’s cheek as he’d slipped out of bed. Will had mumbled something into his pillow, shifting over into the warmth Mike had left behind.
Mike had taken a moment to drink him in: the slack of his face as it was squished partially into Mike’s pillow and his own; his mussed hair, slightly glowing from the sparse rays of light that came through the curtains. Mike had felt such tender fondness bloom in his chest
While Mike had begrudgingly gotten ready for work and headed out, he had found himself distracted—on the ride, and even while reviewing and completing the assignments given to him. All he could think about was Will at home. What was he doing? Was he finally working on painting the piece for Lucas and Max that he’d been relentlessly sketching out, ensuring it was perfect? Was he still in his pajamas, deciding to just lounge around?
Even as Mike went through his tasks, all his mind was filled of was Will.
When lunch time rolled around, he had picked at his lip, trying to focus as he ignored the packed lunch sitting within his bag. If he opened it, all he would be able to think about was the fact Will took the time out of his day to prepare Mike lunch a day before; he would end up just staring at the little note his boyfriend would slip in every time without fail, always a doodle of Mike the Brave in varying situations. He’d been so in his thoughts he’d failed to notice his supervisor, Mr. Bachner—an older gentleman with grey at his temples and a mustache that reminded him of Hopper’s—in front of his desk until he cleared his throat.
Mike had jolted, straightening up from where he’d begun to slouch and slide down in the chair. He’d collected himself enough to listen to Mr. Bachner explain that Mike had been doing well with his pieces, but he was close to hitting overtime due to how often Mike had stayed after hours (which was of Mike’s own fault with his cruel streak of perfectionism not allowing him to finish unless he deemed his work perfect); therefore, he was being cut early.
Mike had thanked the older man, trying not to rush to pack his things up under Mr. Bachner’s watchful gaze before the man had decided he had better things to do, returning back to his office. Relief and joy had run through him at the fact he’d be able to spend the rest of his day with Will and not have to worry about being strangely distracted.
All of that had led to now, with Mike back home after the most mind-numbing metro ride, closing the door behind him.
“Will?” He called out as he slid his bag off and set down his typewriter case in the entry hall. As he toed his shoes off, only silence answered him. It was broken by the clunk of his keys as he placed them in the deformed little pink bowl one of the kids had made for Will when they’d done a form of pottery.
He padded through the house, peering around the corner of the hall as it led to the kitchen, expecting to find Will; sometimes he’d spend his free time baking, pulling from recipes Jane or Mrs. Byers would recommend, leaving him covered in flour and with slightly more stress than he had started out with. It was worth it, in Will’s uttered opinion after Mike had once asked, because it felt satisfying to him to make something with his own hands and have it taste good.
He let out a sound of disappointment as the kitchen stood empty until he stepped into it. He turned towards the dining area, taking a few steps into the room as he glanced towards the backyard. If Will wasn’t in the kitchen or backyard (where he liked to soak up the heat of the sun when possible), he was either asleep in their room or in the spare guest room turned office slash studio.
He fortunately spotted Will through the sliding door and stepped over, not registering what the brunet was wearing until he’d popped the door open. He stopped on the threshold out to the backyard as he took in Will, who was sprawled out in one of the chaises on his stomach. His chin was propped in one hand and book in the other, legs crossed over one another; the beaded anklet Jane had made for him a couple months ago rested above the jut of his ankle, the pastel yellow and purple bright in the sun.
His eyes trailed up Will’s calves, using the few moles that dotted them as markers up to the curve of his thighs before settling on the swell of his ass, made all the more visible by the tightness and length of the shorts he had on. He felt himself swallow hard at the sight of what others would deem a sinful.
Mike stepped forward quietly as he continued to stare at Will, or more specifically his ass. As he got closer, Will shifted, uncrossing his legs and spreading them slightly. He inhaled deeply as he caught a glimpse—a glimpse of the light dusting of soft curls that decorated Will’s pretty cunt. There was no fucking way Will had no underwear on. Was he insane?
“Hey,” Mike said as he came to stand directly behind Will, eyes still glued to the barely hidden forbidden fruit that dangled in front of him.
“Hey,” Will murmured back, book lowering as he tilted his head enough to glance at Mike, the curve of his nose and long lashes illuminated in the sun. His thighs came together, the view Mike had been stuck on gone with the shift in position. “I heard the door open but you didn’t say anything… and you’re home early. Is everything okay?”
“Uh,” Mike said unintelligently, trying to release his mind from the snag it'd been caught on. “Uh, yeah. Mr. Bachner said I’d been doing well with my writing, but I’m close to hitting overtime so he let me go.”
“Oh, that’s great. Not the overtime part, obviously—you need to take care of yourself more—but that you’re off now. We can spend the rest of the day together? You could pull a chair up.”
Will turned back towards his book, seemingly content at just spending time together side-by-side as they often did. Mike made to shuffle back and away to grab a chair, trying to stay calm, but he watched as Will’s thighs parted again. His shorts seemed to cling to his skin now, probably slightly sticky from the warmth of the outside. As Mike stared, he could feel his cock hardening, finalizing his choice.
He changed direction, moving towards Will. He placed a hand on Will’s ankle, feeling the heat from the plastic beads on his palm and the soft flesh underneath it. He licked his lips unconsciously in reaction.
“Mike?” Will questioned, voice soft as the book dropped back down to the chair.
“Keep reading,” Mike urged, hand moving up to grab at the thickness of Will’s thigh. He lifted a knee and set it on one side of Will’s legs before bringing the other up. As Will turned back to his book warily, Mike crawled on the chair over him, careful with his weight as he settled on top of the other’s thighs. His fingers trailed over Will’s ass, the cotton shorts soft under them.
He could see Will start to turn to glance at Mike, and he made a noise—something stern and almost reprimanding; Will’s head swiveled back to the correct position.
He moved his hands down to where Will’s thighs contoured into the plush curve of his ass. Mike’s thumbs laid on his inner thighs, feeling the prickle of the hair that meandered down from Will’s pussy. He pulled on the skin, leaning back to see how easily his thumbs sunk into Will’s thighs and gained a small look of Will’s cunt on either side of the small crotch coverage of the shorts.
“Mike,” Will gasped out, squirming. “What are you doing? We’re- We’re outside… What if somebody sees?”
“Let them.”
Will let out a sound at that, an almost whimper.
Mike moved his right hand upwards, angling his thumb to have his nail drag against the sensitive skin, gently catching on Will’s folds. The pad of his thumb became wet instantaneously as he sunk deeper, grazing over Will’s hole. He raised a brow at how wet Will was though—as if he’d already prepared and played with himself.
Will let out a shaky sigh, and Mike looked up to see Will gripping his book hard, the pages crinkling.
Mike’s thumb continued in its path downward, finding Will’s clit. He gently rubbed over the swollen bud, Will letting out a loud whine in response which resulted in him clapping a hand over his mouth.
“C’mon, don’t be shy now,” Mike teased, continuing his circular ministrations on Will’s clit. He could feel his cock straining against his slacks. His attention, for now though, was solely focused on Will.
He rubbed at the nub a few more times, feeling Will squirm under him, torn between pressing into the pad of Mike’s thumb or pulling away from it; his breathing seemed to get heavier as Mike moved his finger back up, tracing over the wet hole that he could feel clench on nothing. He crooked his thumb and slowly pushed into it, feeling slight resistance with how tight Will was—despite having obviously fingered himself sometime earlier.
God, he was so perfect in every way.
Mike let his thumb rest for a moment, feeling the heat of Will’s walls as they enveloped it. He pushed in a bit further, rotating his wrist as he went before bending his thumb, feeling for the bundle of nerves he knew would set Will off.
He knew he found it when Will let out a loud keen, not bothering to stifle himself now. His book laid on the chair before him, his other hand barely even holding it anymore.
“So sensitive,” Mike murmured as he massaged the spot again, Will’s thighs trembling under him.
“Mike, I’m- I’m gonna come if you don’t-,” Will tried to say, his voice cracking as part of the heel of Mike’s palm rubbed against his clit.
“Go ahead.”
Mike resumed grinding his hand against Will’s clit and fingering at the spot, feeling Will begin to rock his hips into it, little sighs coming from him. It didn’t take long for Will to tense up, completely clenching on Mike’s thumb as he came, mouth open in a silent cry, gushing out onto Mike’s hand and drenching his shorts.
“Shit,” Mike exhaled, feeling how soaked his hand was.
He gently pulled his hand away, his thumb sliding out of Will as the other’s thighs twitched. His dick ached with how hot the sight was in front of him, and he knew he needed to fuck Will, now.
“Can you give me another, baby?” He asked, tone softening despite the urgency that raced through him.
“Mhm.” Will had lowered himself onto his forearms, head bent forward as he tried to catch his breath. The book sat closed on the edge of the chair, concentration obviously lost, and Mike cracked a grin at how easily he could pull Will apart.
With Will’s confirmation, Mike unbuttoned his slacks hurriedly, pulling at the waistband of his briefs enough to let his cock out spring out. The head of it was flushed red, pre-cum smeared over it.
He had no patience as he spit into his hand, wanting to delve inside Will as quickly as possible. He held his dick, jerking it enough to coat it with the spit and cum from Will, hissing at how sensitive his erection was.
Mike lifted himself up, readjusting where he sat on Will’s thighs before using his a hand to pull at Will’s shorts; the soaked fabric clung to Will’s inner thighs as he hooked his finger onto it, pulling it to the side. He gripped his cock again with his other hand and lined it up, feeling the slick dripping from Will’s hole.
He pushed in, groaning as the slippery warmth of Will’s cunt sucked him, as if eager to make him come as fast as possible. He looked at Will, seeing his head still lowered but face slack and lashes fluttering as Mike continued to slide in.
He took a minute to let Will adjust before sliding back out, then slamming back it. Both Will and him let out matching whines at the feel—of how deep Mike hit and how the heat of Will completely encompassed him.
Mike slid back out, then back in, beginning to get a rhythm as he grabbed onto Will’s waist. The chair creaked under them as Mike’s hips piston back-and-forth, the man losing himself to the ribbed feel of Will’s pussy.
“You were wearing no fucking—ngh—panties. All wet and open. Did you—hn—expect someone to come over here and just—hah—fuck you? Huh?”
“Nooo,” Will whined, head tilting back and back arching as if he was trying to merge with the chair to escape Mike. The book was lost somewhere on the ground now from the jostling movements, Will white-knuckling the chair’s cushion as Mike shoved himself in again.
“Yeah you were, mmh. You slut.”
Mike paused for a split second, baffled at what had just come out of his mouth. Will and him had done dirty talk before, but never like this. Before he could open his mouth though, he felt Will’s walls flutter around his cock and a low moan. Fuck.
“You like that, huh? Being a slut?”
“Miiike,” is what Will moaned in response, higher in pitch this time. Mike felt his cock throb at how debauched Will sounded and looked. He scrambled to change position, sliding out to a distraught whine from Will.
He knocked Will’s legs apart, settling into the gap between them as he knelt, grabbing his dick and pushing just the tip inside before practically laying on top of Will, leaning on his hands to slightly hover.
He pulled his hips up before slamming back in, grunting as the wet squelch of Will’s pussy rang out.
“Who were you expecting, huh?” Mike muttered, picking up pace again, Will’s uneven whines and moans filling the air.
“No—nnh—no one! Just- Just thought about you,” Will admitted, finally giving in and tilting his hips to allow Mike to hit even deeper inside. He saw Will snake a hand beneath him and the chair, his hips starting to rock again as he found his clit and began rubbing at it.
“Yeah? Spending your day off thinking about me? Playing—hngh—with yourself?”
“Yeah,” Will sighed out, almost a whisper from how well Mike was pleasuring him. “Thought… mmh… thought of you in me, your fingers, your dick, hah.”
“Fuck, baby, I thought of you too,” Mike admitted, heat washing over him at the image of Will fingering himself and imagining Mike. He leant his head down to press a kiss against Will’s nape. “Couldn’t stop thinking about what you were doing. Distracted me all day.”
Mike felt pressure building low in his stomach, and he groaned as he thrust once, twice more, before burying himself as deep as he could go in Will; he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t last long with how fucking pretty and pliant Will was underneath him. He felt Will clench down around him, a broken off moan escaping from the brunet as Mike filled him. Mike felt his dick and pants get soaked, less cum this time though considering this was Will’s third orgasm. If Mike could, he’d try to wring a fourth out of him.
“Mmmfuck,” Will said, voice slurred, completely collapsed into the chaise.
Mike let himself fully lay on top of Will now as they caught their breaths, Will letting out a pleased noise at the weight of Mike atop him.
“Best day off,” Will mumbled and Mike let out a breathless laugh in the back side of Will’s neck.
“Definitely.”