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Mike is a fucking freak. And not in a good way.
Here’s the thing. He could stave off the guilt for this. He could. Because people have weird things that they like, stupid shit like bird watching or soap carving or collecting trading cards. And the people that like these things are never ashamed of it, ever. So Mike shouldn’t feel ashamed of what he likes, no matter how weird.
The problem is that it’s really fucking weird.
Sometimes Mike wishes Will had never told everyone he didn’t like girls that day at The Squawk. Not that he has a problem with it, because he doesn’t. But sometimes, when it’s just the two of them hanging out – when the rest of the group ducks out early and Will gives Mike a look as if he’s not really interested in heading back home yet – Mike can’t help but feel like things are different. Not bad, but changed.
They’ve grown, sure, found some independent interests and learned to socialize with people outside of the party, but that’s not what Mike’s feeling a shift in. It’s in the way Will carries himself. His mannerisms. The faces he makes. The stuff he says.
Mike puts a lot of pride in the way he’s changed himself. Since saving the world, he’s done quite a lot of self-improvement. For example, he’s begun to wash his t-shirts after one use instead of trying to squeeze two days out of them. He’s also been trying to pay more attention to other people’s feelings.
Unfortunately for him, this has made him acutely aware of everything Will Byers does all the time. Every quirk of his mouth, every pinch in his eyebrows, every scratch of his neck. It’s like he’s in a perpetual state of making sure Will isn’t trying to communicate something telepathically.
With this new development, though, an increasing bubble of indignity blooms in his gut. Because, as much as he loathes himself for it, he’s begun to come to terms with the fact that there’s a small chance he has a crush on his best friend. But that’s not even the problem.
The problem is that Mike sort of likes to watch Will cry.
He doesn’t even know when it started.
Scratch that, yes he does. It started after Will no longer had an inter dimensional monster swimming through his veins and thus didn’t really have anything devastating to cry over anymore. Barring the occasional nightmare or rueful retrospection, the things Will sheds tears over are pure enough for Mike to think maybe he’s not an absolute screwball.
It’s things like sad movies or when he laughs so hard a few teardrops track down his cheeks. The way his eyes look after, all shiny and a little bloodshot and red around the edges.
There was this night near the beginning of the summer following graduation where the party was sprawled out in Mike’s basement watching Dead Poets Society. It was Max’s choice, and Mike had a dispute rousing at the tip of his tongue right as Will admitted he’d like to watch it. Mike doesn’t like denying Will of things after all that’s happened, so if Will wanted to watch a movie, then he’d shut up and watch the movie.
Mike didn’t expect Will to cry over it, though.
It didn’t last long, the crying, but Mike watched as Will clung to Max’s side and weeped with her for a decent five minutes after the sad part. He watched the way Will sniffled a little, the way his bottom lip trembled and his lashes clung together in dark brown clusters. After, when everyone said their goodnights and started heading home, Will’s eyes still looked a little glassy.
“Gonna be alright?” Mike had teased, unsure why he felt the need to curl his fingers over Will’s shoulder.
“Shut up,” Will replied, paying no mind to Mike’s touch.
It’s been a month and a half since then, and Mike, contritely, has been trying to get Will to cry in the least conspicuous ways possible.
It started with more movies. Mike would deliberately pick out films with sad endings, and he’d plant himself on the couch next to Will and hope that the boy’s resolve would crackle. Those weren’t much of a success, as Will normally just ended up launching into a tiff about “the lack of emotional integrity in characters these days.”
Then came the push for cuteness aggression. It was Mike’s most futile attempt — he’d point out commercials with baby animals and started seeking reasons to be around kittens more often. The only result it got him was an overwhelming stroke of endearment whenever Will’s face lit up at the sight of baby things.
So, feeling like the most evil person in the world, Mike has reverted back to acting normal. Mostly.
Right now, Mike’s got the landline cradled to his ear, the cord pulled tight so he can curl up on the basement couch, and it’s late enough that he’s not too worried about his mother spying on his conversations. Will’s on the call, telling him about his art portfolio, about college and how he’s wary but excited, and all Mike can think about is the fact that Will is going to be leaving. Soon.
“There’s this one painting I think you’d like,” Will’s saying. “It’s kind of depressing but it has a cat in it.”
Mike hums noncommittally, then hates the way he sounds disinterested. “You’ll have to show me.”
“Yeah. I think I’m gonna use it as my color theory piece,” he explains. “It’s pretty… diverse, I guess.”
“Are you gonna be sad to leave?” Mike asks suddenly, unable to help himself.
There’s a pause on the line. “Yeah. I mean- yeah, of course I am. But I’m also happy I’ll get some new scenery. It’s… I need it, I think.”
Mike hums again. “Are you… gonna come back? To visit, I mean.”
“To visit you, you mean?” Will corrects, a playful lilt to his tone. Mike rolls his eyes even though Will can’t see him. “If you want me to, of course.”
“I want you to,” Mike admits. Then, after a beat. “I don’t want you to go.”
A moment passes where Will doesn’t say anything, and Mike’s eyes widen, afraid he’s made it weird, or something.
“I mean, I do. Well- I want you to experience the world and stuff, obviously. And to meet new friends and learn new things and whatever people do at college,” Mike stammers. “You deserve it. After everything, you deserve a normal life. A soft life. We all do. I’m- I’ll just… I’m just gonna miss it, still, you know?”
An exhale breezes over the phone, and Mike closes his eyes. Will inquires, “Miss what, the party? Or the way things were?”
“Yeah, the party, the hangouts.” Mike swallows. “And… I’ll miss you, too, you know? Like, you and me.”
Will doesn’t speak for a bit. When he does, it’s gentle; “I’ll miss you, too.”
Mike can hear the shift. The way his voice sounds a little thick. The sniff that follows his words. God, he hates himself. He wasn’t trying. He swears. But with his toes already dipped into the water, he can’t help but submerge. He may have improved some of his faults, but selfishness will forever be intricately woven into his soul.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you here, honestly.”
Will chuckles a little, then sniffs again. “Probably form a D&D youth group or something.”
Mike snorts. “Probably.” He shifts on the couch, falling onto his back and staring blankly up at the ceiling. “Seriously, though. I know… I know I don’t say it, like, ever, but you mean a lot to me. More than you think.”
“Feeling sentimental tonight?” Will jokes after a beat, but there’s a crack in it. “You, uh… You mean a lot to me, too. Like, a lot a lot.”
“Yeah?” Mike grins. “Never could’ve guessed. You roll your eyes at me even more than El did.”
“‘Cause you’re annoying,” Will lightheartedly shoots back, and it’s nice, thinking back fondly on things like that, despite everything. “I keep you humble.”
“Can we go back to five seconds ago when you were telling me how much I mean to you? I liked that better,” Mike complains, twisting the phone cord around his forefinger.
Will halts, a tiny breath wafting over the line. “You do mean a lot to me. You’ve… you’re the reason I am who I am.”
Mike’s brows furrow. “Elaborate.”
“Your bossiness rubbed off on me,” Will says, to which Mike sighs loudly. Will laughs, then sobers. “You’ve made me braver.”
“Braver how?”
“It’s like- don’t let this get to your head,” Will warns. “But it’s like you bring out the parts of me I would normally be afraid to show people. The deep parts.”
Mike’s lips tug up at the corners. “Like the fact that you still sleep with Mr. Floof?”
“Don’t talk about Mr. Floof,” Will bites. “He can hear you.”
Mike laughs, unabashed. “No, but really. What parts?”
“You know, the personal parts. Like, when we were younger…” Will trails off, and Mike can hear his breathing deepen. One big inhale and an exhale that comes out a little wonky. “When I first figured it out, you were the only one I wanted to tell. About me.”
Mike’s stomach sinks a little. “Why didn’t you?”
Will doesn’t reply for so long Mike almost thinks he’s been hung up on. But then, “I can’t tell you that.”
Mike’s heart fully palpitates. “You’re contradicting what you said, like, just a second ago.”
“I know, I know,” Will rushes. “I just- the answer’s really… intimate. Something just for me, if that makes sense.”
Mike wants to ask what’s so intimate about it. What could possibly be the reason Will withheld such a thing from him for so long. Even if he kept it a secret from everyone else, he could’ve confided in Mike. “Did you think I wouldn’t accept you?” Mike wonders, because he has to.
“No,” Will assures. “No, it’s not that at all.”
“Okay, good,” Mike nods to himself, because that matters to him. All of this matters to him, more than his weird fascination. “Just making sure. ‘Cause I would never think differently of you for that. For anything, actually. You’re too important.”
Will sniffs again, and this time Mike knows he’s plucked at something soft. He really wasn’t even trying to. He wasn’t.
Mike can’t stop the words from continuing to spill out. “I don’t think I’ve ever really told you how much I care about you. Definitely not since that day at The Squawk. You- you’re one of the most important people in my life, and I want you to know that. You’re- you’re… fuck, it’s so hard to say meaningful shit.”
Will chokes out a watery laugh, and Mike’s stomach flutters. He’s so fucked. So so fucked. He can’t grapple with this — the way he means what he’s saying and the way he also feels inclined to say it just to hear that sound.
“You’re everything.”
Will’s breath hitches when Mike says it, and Mike chomps down on his bottom lip as heat climbs up his neck. Surely that was too much.
But then Will whispers, “You’re everything, too,” and Mike feels a lot better about it.
Mike also feels like a pervert.
Because Will’s crying, Mike knows he’s crying – he can hear the sniffles and the way his voice has grown a little more croaky – and now Mike’s pajama pants feel tighter around the waistband and it’s so fucking wrong and so fucking stupid but he can’t help it. It’s, like, instinct or something. Pavlov’s reflex. He’s been conditioned, maybe.
“I really don’t want you to leave,” Mike murmurs, his voice dropping an octave involuntarily. He clears his throat.
“It’s gonna suck,” Will mutters. He sniffs, then his breath catches on an inhale. God fucking damn it. “I wish you could go with me.”
Mike’s doomed. Mike’s fucking pathetic. He clamps his free hand into a fist, pressing it into the side of his hip while his other fingers grip around the receiver with immeasurable force. “I would if I could.”
Will lets out a quiet sob, barely there, but Mike’s entire body reacts to it. He’s tenting his pajama pants, his dick so stiff he can feel it throb. He bites down on his tongue hard enough for it to hurt.
“Would we dorm together?” Will implores, probably trying to lighten the subject.
Mike should allow it. He should let Will navigate them somewhere easy, somewhere with more digestible words and less heavy breathing. But Mike’s not in a clear headspace right now. “I wouldn’t want you to dorm with anybody else."
“Sounds a little possessive,” Will jokes, but Mike is dead serious. “Don’t you wanna make new friends?”
“Not when I’ve got you as an option for a roommate,” Mike replies. His knuckles are white. He’s barely able to speak without spitting the words out through gritted teeth. “Wouldn’t want anybody else.”
“Why not?”
If Mike was in a normal state of mind. If Mike was calm and collected. If Mike was straight. Fuck, if Mike was straight. He wouldn’t say something stupid.
But Mike isn’t any of those things.
“I only want you.”
Will practically gasps on the other end of the line. Mike promptly slams the back of his head against the pillow as hard as he could muster.
“Sorry,” Mike rasps. “That was forward.”
“Forward?” Will says, almost disbelievingly. “More like completely out of character. Are you okay?”
Mike huffs a humorless laugh. “You don’t wanna know the answer to that.”
“I do,” Will argues. “I really do want to know the answer to that.”
Mike stalls. Fuck it. Tongue darting out to wet his lips, he heaves a breath, then asks, “What are you doing right now?”
Will makes a weird sound in his throat, then replies, “Uh, laying in bed and talking to you, why?”
“Do you wanna come over?”
Will chokes on a laugh. “Mike, it’s-” There’s movement on the line, sheets rustling. “-one in the morning.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Will hesitates. He hesitates. Mike’s dick twitches in a clash of anticipation and fear. Will asks, “What for?”
How does Mike say this? How does he tell Will he’s essentially calling him over just to see what Will would do if he saw Mike like this? He’s so fucking sick in the head but he can’t help himself.
“Just come over, Will,” he decides for him. “Be quiet, though. Come through the basement and leave your bike by the bushes.”
He says it like they’ve done this before. Like Mike’s requested Will to come hang out in the middle of the night just because.
After a long moment, Will says, “Okay.”
Mike has to restrain himself from audibly cheering. With a coy smile, he echoes, “Okay.”
“I’ll… see you in twenty, I guess.”
“See you.”
The call crackles, then a steady hum comes through as Will hangs up. Mike lays there with the buzzing receiver to his ear for a solid thirty seconds trying to collect himself. What the fuck did he just do?
Clamoring up off the couch, he slams the receiver back onto the hook and scurries over to the bathroom. He surveys himself in the mirror, and suddenly feels even more shame sludging around in the pit of his gut. He looks crazy, his dark hair fuzzy from his head jostling around on the pillow, his t-shirt wrinkled to hell, his pajama pants so explicitly displaying his raging boner that he blushes just at the premise of it.
Does Will know what he’s walking into? Was Mike obvious enough in his request? Mike idly wonders if he should maybe hide the fact that he’s so visibly hard in his pants, but part of him wants the boner to speak for itself.
He hasn’t reached the “strengthening communication skills” segment of his self-improvement arc yet.
He is so fucking stupid. This is the stupidest thing he’s ever done.
The erection hasn’t waned even a little by the time Mike hears rustling in the bushes outside. In fact, he might’ve gotten even harder during the wait just from suspense alone. He doesn’t stand from the couch until he hears three little knocks on the door, and when he does stand, he suddenly feels so nervous that a wave of nausea rolls through his stomach.
He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, but god he needs something like a miracle to happen right now.
He gets the door, hiding his lower half behind it as he peers around to see Will standing outside in his own pajama pants and an old Aerosmith t-shirt. Will meets his eyes timidly, his hands wringing over his lower stomach, and Mike feels a pang of adoration wash over him for a brief second. But then Mike notes the fact that Will’s lashes are still a little damp, and suddenly he’s plunged right back into his dirty mind.
“Hi,” Will whispers, a small yet nervous smile creeping onto his mouth.
“Hi,” Mike replies, opening the door wider to let him in.
Will steps through the doorway and Mike closes it behind him, quickly moving his hands to cover his crotch as Will toes off his shoes by the coffee table. They don’t speak for a minute, and Will won’t really look at him properly as he settles down onto the couch, concentrating really hard on all of his movements like he’s purposely stalling. Mike’s dick aches where it’s hidden beneath his palms.
“So, um,” Will starts, glancing at where Mike still stands on the opposite side of the coffee table. “Are you gonna tell me what you wanted me over for or did you just wanna hang out?”
Mike didn’t prepare an answer to this question. He shifts on his feet. “I’m… afraid to tell you.”
Will blinks at him. “Mike. What?”
“I’m, like, really scared right now,” Mike admits, and it’s the truth. He’s terrified. He should not have opened this can of worms.
“Why?” Will asks, so soft it makes Mike’s ears warm. “What’s happening?”
Mike’s breath stutters, and his palms close harder over his crotch. Will’s gaze flickers down just for a millisecond, almost like it was an accident, before landing on his face again.
“I only want you,” Mike repeats uneasily for the second time tonight, hoping his message gets across.
Will’s eyebrows navigate through a range of positions before settling into an upturned pinch. His lips are parted, and Mike’s eyes lock onto them mindlessly. “Mike, I don’t understand.”
Mike wants to die. “I- I heard you cry,” Mike says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I heard you crying, and-”
Using every ounce of courage in his entire body, Mike angles his head down at his crotch, like he’s trying to instruct Will to look, and he moves his hands away. He’s still fully hard, his pajama pants doing barely anything to stifle the protruding length of him.
When he finally forces himself to look at Will, his stomach flips. Will’s eyes are set on Mike’s crotch, wide with shock, and his jaw has gone slightly slack, his mouth popped open.
“Mike,” Will stutters breathily, his gaze not faltering. “From… me? Crying?”
“It’s embarrassing,” Mike whines. “It’s so embarrassing, I know. And I shouldn’t have invited you over expecting you to do something about it, I don’t know what I was thinking. I just- Every time you cry it- it happens. And other things, not just you crying. You just. You really turn me on sometimes and I felt like a creep not telling you but now I feel like a creep for telling you so I don’t know if there was any correct choice here.”
Will is completely speechless. He’s sitting there stock still and Mike wants to fucking spontaneously combust right here in the middle of the room.
“I’m sorry,” Mike tacks on uselessly.
Will looks up, then, back at Mike’s face, and he’s beet red. Mike imagines his own face is probably also very flushed.
“Mike,” Will sighs, and he fishmouths for a second before continuing, “can you come sit down please.”
Mike obeys hurriedly, sitting down cross legged beside Will on the couch, just far enough so that they’re not touching.
“Where is this coming from?” Will asks softly, though Mike can literally see his pulse racing in his throat.
“I think it’s always been there,” Mike confesses. “Not the crying thing, but the… everything else.”
“You’re straight?” Will states, but it comes out as a question.
“Will,” Mike starts, licking his lips to steel himself. “I just opened the door and saw you standing there and my dick literally, like, pulsated. I don’t think I’m straight.”
Will’s neck blooms red, and he looks taken aback by Mike’s language. Mike has never spoken like this with him before, or with anyone, for that matter, so Will must be rather confused.
“I don’t know what to say,” Will murmurs. “I’m feeling a little cornered right now.”
“I’m sorry,” Mike says again. “I’m so sorry, Will. I felt like I needed to tell you.”
Will’s posture is stiff, his back a straight line against the back of the couch. He looks… conflicted. “I need you to be honest with me right now.”
“I’ve been so honest,” Mike says petulantly, because he has.
“Am I here because you’re horny or am I here because you love me?”
It’s so brazen and to the point that Mike almost laughs. He doesn’t, though. Rather, with his heart in his throat, he replies, “Will, I don’t think there’s anyone on earth I’ll ever love more than I love you.”
That’s all it takes.
“Please come here,” Will basically chokes, and Mike, with unfathomable relief, maneuvers onto his knees and crowds Will’s space. He plants his hands on the cushions behind either side of Will’s neck and waits, looking desperately into Will’s eyes with a renewed sense of vigor. Will smiles and whispers, “Do you need further instructions?”
Mike presses his lips to Will’s, then, and sparks shoot fiercely up his spine, so much so that he squeaks a humiliating sound at the back of his throat that causes Will to smile into the kiss. Mike kisses harder, urging Will to stop fucking grinning and just make out with him, and Will eventually caves.
Mike lets Will lead their kisses, lets him suckle at Mike’s bottom lip and slide his tongue against the tip of Mike’s, because Mike thinks Will should dictate exactly how his first everything should go. Will’s tongue dips into Mike’s mouth curiously, licking at the ridges of his teeth and into the pool beneath Mike’s tongue. Will’s hands shakily land on Mike’s ribcage, then slide up his back to bring him closer. Mike takes this as cue enough to touch him back, so he slides a hand into Will’s hair, cupping the back of his head, and lets his other hand trail down to Will’s waist.
“Mike,” Will exhales when they part for air. “Mike, what are we doing?”
“What do you mean?” Mike slurs dazedly.
“I’m hard,” Will admits, and they both look down to Will’s lap at the same time.
Sure enough, Will is definitely hard, his thick cock pressing against the fabric of his pajama pants. They’re the kind with a button at the crotch, and Mike can see a sliver of pale skin through the slit of it.
“You’re not wearing underwear,” Mike notes, voice pitched up in mild disbelief.
Sheepish, Will only tightens his grip at the back of Mike’s t-shirt
“Will Byers,” Mike beams. “Were you anticipating this?”
“Please shut up,” Will groans.
“William Byers,” Mike says, laughing a little now. He reaches down for Will’s legs, hooking his hands under Will’s knees and yanking him so that Will’s laying flat on the couch. He hovers over him, planting himself in the space between Will’s legs. “Who’d have thought you’d be… easy?”
Will snorts. “Is that an actual question?”
Mike presses a kiss to Will’s cheek, then another. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you had a crush on me.”
Will’s breath hitches, but he still teases, “You were cuter when you were nervous.”
“You think I’m cute?” Mike grins, kissing along Will’s jaw. “Don’t worry, I’m still terrified, baby.”
Will shudders at the pet name, his whole body, and Mike bursts with pride. He presses more kisses down the length of Will’s neck, opening his mouth to lick at his skin. Will tilts his head back, allowing him more room, and Mike sucks gently on the space right above his collarbone. Will sighs, a small little sound, and Mike kisses over the spot and pulls back before he can leave a mark — despite how badly he wants to.
“How far do you want this to go?” Mike asks genuinely, leaning up just enough to look Will in the eyes.
Will tugs at the hem of Mike’s t-shirt. “I’m not leaving here without seeing your dick.”
Mike makes a noise between a laugh and a moan. “Holy shit.”
Will just smirks, pulling up at Mike’s shirt, and Mike lifts his arms so Will can tug it off of him. Mike rests back on his haunches and reaches for Will’s waistline, his fingers dipping under his shirt and sliding upward, rucking up the fabric as he goes. He watches Will’s stomach jump under his hands, goosebumps rising in his wake. When the shirt is bunched up under Will’s armpits, Mike bends forward and plants his mouth on Will’s sternum. After wrestling the rest of the way out of his shirt, Will’s fingers find their way into Mike’s hair, petting him softly as he trails kisses up to his right nipple. When his tongue comes out to flick at it, Will mewls, his back arching. Mike smiles, his tongue still stuck out and teasing at Will’s nipple.
“Mike,” Will whines, his fingers threading tighter in Mike’s hair.
Mike hums playfully in question, wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking. Will’s breathing picks up, and Mike plants a hand flat over Will’s stomach to feel as he gasps and arches up into him. Mike is already looking up at Will’s face when the boy peers down, and Mike revels in the way Will’s eyebrows pucker, the way his lips curve downward like he’s overwhelmingly aroused just from this.
Leaving one last kiss to Will’s nipple, Mike trails more open-mouthed kisses down the line of Will’s stomach, the tip of his tongue tasting the skin right below his navel, prodding at the coarse line of hair there. He looks up at Will again through his lashes.
“Tell me what you want,” Mike orders gently, kissing at the waistband of Will’s pajama pants.
“Please,” is all Will says, and that won’t do.
Mike lifts up, gazing down at Will below him, and Mike’s dick is definitely the hardest it’s ever been in his entire life. Will’s legs are open wide, his cock pushing at the button of his pants, barely concealed by it. He’s got one hand fisted in the couch cushion beside his hip and the other shoving his hair out of his eyes, his bicep flexing with the motion of it. His stomach keeps stuttering with shaky breaths, and Mike wants to lick him all over.
“I’d do anything you asked me to right now,” Mike murmurs, his hands sinking down Will’s thighs and squeezing at the curve of his hips. Then they sink lower, worming between the couch cushions and Will’s ass, and he gives his cheeks a good squeeze. “Anyone ever told you you have a nice ass?”
Will barks out a laugh. “No, can’t say they have.”
Mike hums. “Well, you have a nice ass. So nice. Lemme see it.”
Will lays there unmoving, his mouth parted, and Mike just smiles and tugs at Will’s leg. Will goes pliantly, albeit blushing like crazy, as Mike turns him onto his stomach. He lifts Will onto his knees, watching as his back arches and boosts his ass up into the air. He’d like to think Will’s doing it on purpose, putting on a show. He showed up with no underwear on, so Mike wouldn’t put it past him at this point.
“My god, Will, this is crazy,” Mike basically blubbers. He places his hands on Will’s clothed ass, one on each cheek, and just fondles them. “I can’t believe I have you like this right now. You’re so… you’re so hot. So pretty.”
Will whimpers — or at least what sounds like a whimper — into the throw pillow under his face. Mike grips harder at his cheeks, jiggling them a little, and then drags his thumbs over the crack. He looks down at the back of Will’s head, admiring the muscles in his shoulders as he fists and unfists his hands in the cushion, and then Mike’s fingers hook over the band of his pants.
“Will?” Mike prompts gently. “Can I take them off? I really wanna see.”
“Yes,” Will replies instantly, nodding enthusiastically into the pillow.
Mike swallows, trying to compose himself, then slowly pulls them down, revealing the plump of his ass bit by bit. He removes the pants fully, flinging them off somewhere to his left, and he allows himself a moment to just look. Will’s arched up obscenely, his puckered hole completely out and clenching and unclenching on nothing, his knees spread wide enough so Mike can see his dick and balls hanging between his thighs.
“Will,” Mike breathes again, because he just can’t believe it. He needs to say Will’s name just to remind himself that this is really Will. His Will, the one he’s known his whole life. The one who paints pretty pictures and wore a wizard costume to play D&D and read comics with him every night in fifth grade and swears he’s not afraid of ladybugs even though he totally is. Will, who loves Reese’s pieces and tigers and the color yellow. “Will, I love you so much.”
Before Will can even react, Mike plunges forward, spreading Will’s cheeks apart with his thumbs and licking a fat stripe right over Will’s hole. Will gasps loud, his entire body jerking, then wails out the hottest sound Mike has ever heard.
“Oh my god,” Will moans, pushing his ass back toward Mike. “Oh my god, oh my god, Mike please do that again.”
Mike’s stomach keeps doing violent flips, his cock twitching constantly at everything Will does. He dips forward again, licking another stripe and then closing his mouth around the hole, getting a real taste of him. He tastes clean, like he’s recently showered, and a little like salt and something tangy, and Mike likes it quite a lot. Will shoves his face into the pillow and practically screams, and Mike’s never seen him like this before — so desperate yet so blissed. Mike licks faster, flicking his tongue over it before pressing in deeper, the tip of his tongue breaching the muscle.
Will keeps babbling, things like “Holy shit Mike,” “Yes Mike,” “Please Mike,” almost like he wants to keep saying Mike’s name, too, and then Will’s hand stretches behind himself and lands in Mike’s hair, and pulls. He pulls Mike in hard, his fingers mindlessly yanking at Mike’s curls, seemingly trying to get Mike’s tongue in as deep as possible.
Mike groans against him, and he grips so hard at Will’s hips it’ll probably leave bruises. Mike’s dick is leaking persistently, he can feel how wet he is through his boxers, and he has to consciously keep himself from rutting into the couch and coming to the sounds Will is making.
“Mike, I’m gonna come,” Will pants, barely coherent, and that’s when Mike pulls away. Will full-on whines into the pillow, and Mike has just enough composure to smile at it before helping Will flip back onto his back.
When they make eye contact again, Mike nearly comes in his pants.
Will’s eyes are wet, lashes clumped together and his waterlines are red, and his lips are spit-slick and swollen. He’s looking up at Mike in awe, his breathing erratic, and Mike desperately wants to fuck him into the couch right here right now. He knows they won’t, they’re not prepared for that, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get it as soon as possible.
“Your face,” Will murmurs, reaching a hand up and wiping under Mike’s chin with his thumb. “You look so…”
“Covered in spit?” Mike tries.
“I was gonna say hot, but that works too,” Will says, his teeth poking out a little for a smile.
Mike bends forward a hint, then pauses. “Would it be gross if I kissed you?”
Rolling his eyes, Will grabs onto Mike’s jaw and pulls him forward for a kiss. Will’s mouth is warm, warmer than before, and wetter, too. Mike’s lips glide against his quickly, and he loves the way he can feel Will’s little puffs of air as he breathes through his nose. Every sensation goes straight to his cock, so hard it aches, but all he can think about is Will Will Will.
When they part, Mike smiles against his mouth, then kisses the tip of his nose and whispers, “Love you.” He then shuffles back down between Will’s thighs, Will’s fingers still secured in his curls.
“Love you,” Will replies on an exhale, a little delayed.
Mike watches his face for a moment, every little twitch and tremor, then he looks down at Will’s dick right in front of him. It’s thick and hard, curving up toward his stomach. It’s flushed in a deep red color, almost purple at the tip, and the slit is steadily leaking precome every time it throbs. Will’s hands slide out of Mike’s hair and rest on his own thighs, which start to close self-consciously.
Mike’s gaze darts back up to Will’s face, and Will looks a little insecure. “What’s wrong?” Mike asks gently.
“Nothing,” Will answers quickly. “Just never… This is new. And it’s you, and the way you’re looking at me is really… intense.”
Mike hooks his arms under Will’s thighs, his fingers wrapping over the tops of them, and he rests his cheek against the warm, plush inside of Will’s right thigh. Will’s breath hitches again.
“It’s just me,” Mike reassures, planting a kiss to the soft skin near his mouth. “Just me and you. Sorry if I’m staring a lot, I’m just really… I’ve been wanting this for a really long time.”
Will’s hand returns to brush away a few stray locks of hair at Mike’s temple, and Mike preens. Will smiles a little. “It doesn’t feel real,” Will whispers breathily.
“It doesn’t,” Mike agrees. “Especially since you look this good.”
Will’s cheeks go pink, and, with a grin, Mike ducks his head forward toward where Will’s cock is twitching vehemently. Eyes locked on Will’s face, Mike sticks out his tongue and laps at the slit of Will’s dick, dipping into the precome there. He watches Will’s face contort, the way his eyebrows screw up and his mouth opens wide on a stuttered gasp. Will’s hips buck up on instinct, and Mike hardens his grip on the tops of Will’s thighs.
He laps at the head for a little, mostly just teasing, then kisses down the shaft all the way to the base. He notices how intently Will’s watching him, and he moves lower to suck one of Will’s balls into his mouth. Will moans, and Mike releases one of his thighs in order to wrap his fingers around Will’s cock.
He jerks him off steadily, smothering his hand in the precome at the head, and he trails kisses down Will’s perineum and back toward his asshole. It’s still wet with Mike’s saliva, and, just for visual purposes, Mike gathers more spit in his mouth and gobs it onto Will’s hole as he continues stroking Will’s dick.
“Oh, Mike,” Will gasps, his back arching like he’s unsure whether to buck up into Mike’s hand or press down onto Mike’s tongue.
“That feel good, baby?” Mike asks, muffled against Will’s ass.
“So good,” Will mewls. “Can you-” He cuts himself off with a throaty moan as Mike’s tongue flicks relentlessly over his hole.
When Will starts to wriggle too much from the sensation, Mike pops off with a loud slurping sound and prompts, “Can I what?”
It takes a minute for Will to respond. “Your tongue. Inside?”
Mike’s dick twitches. “Anything you want, baby.”
With that, he sets a firm pace on Will’s cock as he plunges his tongue back into Will’s hole. Will’s legs stutter up on their own accord, his toes curled as he widens himself even further. He’s squirming so much, alternating between trying to pull away from Mike’s mouth and trying to push back on it.
“I’m gonna,” Will moans, mostly just a high exhale of air. “Gonna come.”
Mike’s fist speeds up, and so does his tongue, thrusting into his hole at a pace that has his jaw sore and face muscles burning, but he fucking loves it.
When Will comes, his hole clamps down around Mike’s tongue, making it hard for him to keep working into it, but he continues until Will’s spent body starts to pull back from overstimulation. He didn’t even realize how lost in it he’d gotten until he opens his eyes and looks up the expanse of Will’s body.
Will’s lying boneless on the cushions, his stomach heaving up and down with deep, slow breaths. Mike releases Will’s dick, holding his come-covered hand uselessly in the air for a moment as he looks around for somewhere to wipe it. Upon finding nothing, he glances at Will, then at his sticky hand, then he lifts his hand to his own mouth and licks.
Will whimpers again despite not even being touched, and Mike watches his face as he licks his own hand clean of Will’s come. It’s a little bitter, weirdly slimy as it slides down his throat, but it’s Will’s, it came out of Will, and something about that makes him so horny that he barely even registers the taste.
Once his hand is clean, he makes a show of hooking his thumbs over the waistband of his pants and boxers and tugging them down together, slowly. Will watches, wide-eyed, as the head of Mike’s dick catches on the band, then springs free, so hard it instantly smacks up against his groin. Smirking lopsidedly, Mike shucks out of his pants and tosses them over the back of the couch.
Mike stands, a little wobbly, and towers over Will’s lax body on the couch. Will looks up at him through his lashes, his hair damp with sweat against his forehead, and Mike cannot believe he hasn’t come yet.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” Mike huffs, his hand reaching for the stump of his own hard dick.
Will sees the motion and jumps back into action promptly. Mike watches as he sluggishly props himself up, sitting right under where Mike is standing over the cushions. Will’s eyes keep flickering down to look at Mike’s cock, and when they linger there, Mike grabs at the base of his dick, positioning it out straight so it points directly at Will’s face.
“Will,” Mike murmurs with a playful lilt, trying to get the boy’s attention. “Do you like my dick?”
With his grip on the base, he swings it around a little, letting it bob through the air obscenely. He watches the line of Will’s throat as the boy gulps, then nods.
“Is it what you were hoping for?” Mike pushes, shuffling just a fraction closer so that the tip of his dick swings right in front of Will’s face. “Look how hard it is for you, baby.”
Will whimpers a little, and his eyes are still a bit glassy, and a spurt of precome leaks from the head of Mike’s cock at the sight. After staring for a grueling handful of seconds, Will finally dips forward, almost curiously. His tongue pokes out and touches the head, just barely, and Mike loses all semblance of equilibrium.
“That’s it,” Mike coaxes eagerly. “Try just licking me with your tongue first to get used to it.”
Will does as told, his tongue curling under the head and licking over it. Mike groans, one hand finding gentle purchase in Will’s hair as the other keeps his dick steady against Will’s tongue.
Will then closes his mouth around the head, suckling at Mike’s slit like he’s trying to slurp him dry, and Mike makes a low noise that rumbles deep in his throat.
“Good, Will, that’s good,” Mike exhales. “Can you- can you stick out your tongue again?”
Will obeys, popping off the tip and letting his tongue stick out of his mouth, waiting. Mike feels a little woozy, aching with the need to release but so enthralled by the sight of Will like this that he needs to cherish every second of it. He maintains heavily lidded eye contact with Will as he grips onto the base of his own dick and slaps the head onto the flat of Will’s tongue. It makes a slick, wet noise, and he gives it a few more pats before rubbing the tip all over Will’s tongue, then Will’s lips, then his cheek and chin and the bridge of his nose, smearing precome all over his face.
“Sorry,” Mike murmurs, even though he’s not. “You’re so pretty. You look so pretty with my dick in your face.”
Will, probably regaining more strength, lifts his hands up, then, planting them on Mike’s thighs. “Put it in my mouth,” Will requests.
“Holy fuck,” Mike moans pathetically, aiming the head back toward Will’s gaping mouth. “This is insane.”
Will finally closes his lips around Mike’s shaft, and heat shoots up Mike’s entire body so quick he feels lightheaded. His fingers tighten in Will’s hair, and Will keens, his eyes fluttering as he peers up at Mike’s face. Mike can’t keep his eyes off him, watching as he takes Mike down further and further. The inside of his mouth is so hot and wet, so tight around Mike’s dick that he knows he’s not going to last more than a few minutes.
“Careful, baby,” Mike warns lightly as Will takes him deeper, but Will doesn’t listen.
His cockhead hits the back of Will’s throat, and Will gags, tears springing to his eyes instantly as he pulls off to cough. Mike’s dick pulsates violently, and surely Will can tell. He keeps looking up at Mike with those wide innocent eyes, like he knows that the tears do something.
He sinks back down onto Mike’s dick, quicker this time, and he gags again but he doesn’t pull off. He starts bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks around it, and Mike is completely fixated on the way tears are starting to trickle down Will’s flushed cheeks.
“Holy fuck,” Mike rambles. “Holy shit, Will. Oh my god, you look so hot. Mouth feels so good.”
Mike tries to keep his hips from pounding into Will’s mouth, he tries so hard, but Will starts to pull at Mike’s thighs like he’s asking for it and Mike couldn’t possibly pass that up.
He starts softly at first, bracing himself on his feet and threading both of his hands through Will’s hair. He bucks his hips in small circles, careful not to gag him too much. Will’s eyes leak persistently, the skin beneath them all wet and shiny, and there’s already a coil of heat pooling in Mike’s gut.
For better leverage, Mike lifts one foot up onto the couch and plants it beside Will’s hip, and he feels dirty in this position. He’s fucking into Will’s mouth with his hands fisted in Will’s hair, and Will’s just taking it.
“Yes, baby, yes,” Mike babbles between wanton groans. “Fuck yes, this is so good. You feel so good.”
Will’s crying. He’s fully weeping, the whites of his eyes turned bloodshot and his nose a little snotty. Mike would feel concerned if Will wasn’t clinging desperately onto Mike’s thighs, pulling him in with every stroke.
“I’m close,” Mike chokes out, and an idea alights in his head that brings him even closer to the edge. “Will, can I come on your face?”
Wordlessly, Will pulls off Mike’s cock and lets Mike finish himself off with one hand. When Mike comes, he paints every inch of Will’s face he can manage — his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead, the space between his eyebrows. It’s more come than he’s ever released before, and he moans so loud with it that he has a mild passing worry that his family can hear him from two floors up.
As he catches his breath, he watches as Will, with his eyes squeezed shut so as to not get come in them, licks his come-covered lips. Mike’s spent dick gives a helpless jerk at the sight.
“Holy shit, man, you should see yourself right now,” Mike blurts, and Will laughs. He literally laughs, his eyes still shut and face still covered with come and tears, and Mike’s heart thumps wildly.
“Can you-” Will starts, then cuts himself off because his voice is so hoarse it comes out as a crackle of noise.
“Jesus,” Mike sighs, completely enraptured. “You’re not real.”
“I can’t see,” Will croaks out at last, and he’s smiling despite his current state of mess.
“Shit, you’re right, I’m sorry,” Mike stammers, looking around for something to clean Will’s face with.
He locates his t-shirt on the carpet and hurries back over, wiping first at Will’s eyes. When they’re clear, Will blinks them open, finding Mike’s face right in front of him, and his smile brightens his entire face.
A giddy laugh escapes Mike. “Dude, you look like you took a bath in it.”
Will chuckles, and Mike laughs along with him, their heads bending together, foreheads knocking a little, and Mike feels warm all over. He continues wiping come off Will’s face until it’s clean, then he lingers for a moment, his gaze flitting between Will’s eyes.
“Will,” he says. “I really do love you so much. Romantically and as my best friend. I want that to be clear.”
Will’s smile turns shy. “It doesn’t feel real to hear you say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve been dreaming of it for almost my whole life,” Will admits.
A wave of guilt rolls through Mike’s stomach. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize sooner.”
Will reaches up and thumbs at Mike’s cheek softly. “You came around.”
“Yeah,” Mike snorts. “Literally.”
Will barks out a laugh, and Mike clamors forward, tackling Will onto his back on the couch. Will cackles maniacally as Mike blows raspberries into the crook of his neck, simultaneously tickling his bare sides. When they calm down, Mike cloaks himself half over Will’s body, clinging to him despite the sweat and come on their skin. He cradles Will’s cheek, tracing his fingertip over his eyebrow.
“Can you take me with you to college?” Mike asks quietly, and he’s not even kidding.
Will grins, his eyes glimmering. “I’ll think about it.”
“Come on,” Mike begs. “I’d be such a good roommate. I’ll cook and clean for you. I’ll be your housewife.”
Will rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right. You’d set the building on fire trying to heat up soup.”
“Not true,” Mike mumbles, knowing it’s true. He presses a soft kiss to Will’s lips, then, shoving away the subject.
After a few minutes of trading languid kisses, Will breaks away to say, “You know, now I’m gonna be afraid to cry in front of you.”
Mike chokes on a laugh, then groans a little. “Dude, I swear it’s situational.”
“What’s the situation then, dude?” Will shoots back.
“Oh, sorry, would you rather me call you baby from now on?” Mike teases, and Will shudders beneath him, then flushes at his own reaction. Mike tsks and quietly comments, “That was really cute.”
“Stop,” Will smiles, avoiding Mike’s eyes for the life of him.
Mike hooks his finger under Will’s chin, urging the boy to look at him. When he does, he bumps his nose against Will’s. Just because, just to make up for all the times he didn’t, he once again says, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Will whispers, brushing a peck to the corner of Mike’s mouth. “Even though you want to see me cry.”