Archive of Our Own

“From now on, no moving, no swearing.” Will’s thumb brushed once along Mike’s jaw. “Just lie back and look pretty for me, ‘kay?”

Mike gritted his teeth, feeling the soft strands swipe over his the base. “Y-yes, Will.”

With the first drag of the brush over his length, Mike felt pretty confident. Slightly overwhelmed, but confident. He could handle the wide strokes over the velvety skin. The short, light teasing with just the tip was kind of funny. Ticklish, but intense. It made Mike’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, but he could swear that it was manageable.

“Shit, fuck!” The slick tip tickled his slit, making Mike’s body seize — the sensation so sharp it almost made him come.

A loud slap landed on his cheek. “I said no swearing.”

“Sorry, god, I’m so sorry,” Mike whimpered when the now-wet brush swiped his nipple. His breath hitched. “It’s just— ah— so strange.”

It took Will a beat to answer. “Good strange?”

“Yes!” Mike yelped, both as an answer and as a reaction to the brush returning where he needed it the most. He breathed hard through his nose, keeping everything still apart from the twitching around his groin.

“There you go. Just like that.” Will’s free hand squeezed his thigh, grounding him. “Just keep still, and I promise that I’ll make you come.”

“Thank you.” The touch turned more pointed and deliberate once again, making Mike’s eyes water. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

After a series of short dips right into the opening where the pre oozed from, Mike’s confidence started to falter. The brush teased his glans. Dipped lower to trace the vein on the underside with more force. Mike used it as a chance to take a solid breath before it came back to the slit.

Mike swore he gave Will a look at abs he’d never had, given how tense the muscles in his stomach had gotten from the calculated swipes. The sounds coming out of his throat were borderline feral, as Mike’s whole focus was tied to staying perfectly still.

The tension kept building and building. Not just from the effort, but from the intensity of the targeted stimulation too. It would be just one more swipe and…

Mike’s body betrayed him, shifting just barely.

The touch disappeared.

“Will, come on!”

Will sighed, a little theatrical. Almost bored. “You moved. Again.”

Mike’s head tipped back slightly, chest rising and falling a little too fast. “How the fuck am I supposed not to!?” The frustration broke out of him in a violent sob.

Another slap hit him on his right cheek, making him cry out from the pain-tainted pleasure. “Language, Michael.”

There was a quiet firmness in the correction. Will shifted, letting the brush drift closer again. Just enough for Mike to feel the absence of it more sharply. He couldn’t see a thing, but all of his other senses were so sharpened that he could picture a clear outline of a very smug Will holding that damn brush a millimeter from his leaking tip.

“Sorry, I— I’m sorry. Please, I just really need to— Will, please.” The words tumbled out, softer now, strained. His fingers twitched again against the surface beneath him, but he caught himself this time, forcing them still.

“Oh, poor thing. You’re really close, aren’t you?”

Will finally let the brush make contact again, but not where Mike expected it. A featherlight stroke dragged along Mike’s hip, slow enough to make it unbearable. It trailed closer to the centre, then stopped, hovering.

“Yes! Will, god, I’m so close. Please.” Mike’s voice cracked around the edges. He sobbed with it, but managed to keep himself still.

The brush dragged lightly over his taut balls — controlled and deliberate. “Well, begging won’t get you anywhere now, would it?” He lightly tapped the brush there — a final warning. “You have to stay still, Michael. Or use your words.”

Mike let out a small, helpless sound, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to inhale deeply. Once. Twice. Trying to steady himself, to keep every muscle locked in place despite the way the teasing touch made it nearly impossible.

The brush moved upwards to dip at the fresh dribble of pre. Mike growled and shoved his hands under his ass, letting his weight keep them down.

Will giggled, patting Mike’s thigh. “That’s smart. I’ll allow it.”

What came next was as much torture as it was a treat. The brush was soaking wet at this point, painting an invisible work of art all across Mike’s aching erection. He tried to calculate its pattern. Tried to get into Will’s vision, but every time he thought that he had cracked the case, an unpredicted swipe would follow.

As Mike lay there and took it, he found his brain completely empty. All there was in that moment was the solid weight of Will and the soft, slick bristle of the brush keeping him on edge. Mike was so far gone that he would breathe only when Will reminded him to.

It was when the brush started to repeat a more familiar pattern right over his slit that Mike broke down in tears again. “S-shield,” he managed between the sobs. “Shield, Will.”

The brush landed somewhere on the sheets, and both of Will’s hands came up to cup Mike’s face. “Hey, what’s wrong? Is it too much?”

“N-no.” Mike jerked his hands from under himself to stop the tingling. “I just… I need a second.”

“Of course.” Will pressed his lips softly onto Mike’s cheek, kissing away the tears. “Do you want the blindfold off?”

Mike took a shaky breath and craned his neck, leaning into Will’s touch. “No, it’s fine. Sorry if I, like, freaked you out.”

“Don’t apologise,” Will said, now stroking firmly all over Mike’s upper body. “I just want to take care of you. All of this is about you, Mike. Your comfort comes first.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

Will smiled against his cheek. “I love you too. So much.”

The solid press of Will’s palms formed a stark contrast to the brush. Slowly, Mike’s breath evened out a little. The tears dried, leaving his cheeks a little prickly. Will kept kissing the flushed skin, providing the needed grounding. He could be harsh and strict when Mike wanted him to be, but at the core, there was still his loving and attentive Will.

“Can you finish me off, please?” Mike said softly after a while. “I’m good now.”

“You’re sure?” Will sounded a little sceptical but sat back up and returned his hands to the top of Mike’s thighs.

“Yes. Please make me come, Will.”

Will cooed at him, giving his thighs a final comforting squeeze. Then one of his hands disappeared. Mike slid his own back under his bum, bracing himself.

A high-pitched whine forced itself from Mike’s throat when the now-cool brush teased his chest. It wasn’t fair. Will had always been a nipple guy — not Mike.

But as it turned out, Mike now was an every-inch-of-skin kind of guy. After the brief pause, Will built it up gradually, mostly keeping it to gentle strokes over his chest with an occasional swipe over the nipples. Somehow, both hit Mike with equal intensity — as if every nerve ending in his body was turned up to the max.

“You did so well, Mike,” Will said softly as he moved the brush lower in a zigzag pattern. “Asked for what you needed just like you were supposed to.”

Mike sniffed when Will traced the vein on the underside of his throbbing length. He wanted to nod, but he knew the rules.

“Good boy.” Another squeeze on his thigh. “Making me so proud. It’s such a pleasure to play with you, you know that?”

“Will— ah—,” Mike’s body locked up when the tip of the brush swiped over his slit. “T-too much, oh— it’s too much.”

Will teased the edge of the crown, then came back to the slit. “You can take it, Mike. I know you can.” The very tip tickled the opening, almost scooping out the pre. “God, you’re so wet. So gorgeous.”

The praise served as fuel to Mike’s determination. All of his muscles burned with the effort, but he kept himself still. He’d ache for days, but he would take it as long as Will was willing to give, as long as he kept talking to him so sweetly.

With every bristle of the brush, Mike’s erection twitched, bumping into the soft, slick strands of its own accord. A sheen of sweat broke out on Mike’s forehead when he started to feel shaky, but no slap followed, and the brush stayed in place.

Then a few things happened at once. With a few pointed swipes, Mike’s body seized. The brush disappeared. A solid slap landed across his face. Will said something, but Mike couldn’t hear him. It was as if he were held underwater.

A few spurts of come landed on his stomach, but Mike barely registered it. It was as if the tight coil in his groin had finally snapped a little — just enough to relieve the pressure. Enough to soothe the ache, but the pleasure stayed teetering.

It all broke down on him when the brush returned. One messy swipe had Mike crying out, body shaking from the all-consuming release. A spurt of come splashed onto his cheek as he erupted all over himself — loud and completely out of it.

Wave after wave washed over him. It felt as if he were pulled out of his body and dragged through a pool of liquefied pleasure. It still sizzled beneath his skin as he came back to reality.

“Wow,” Mike said, his voice cracking. The blindfold was gone, and the bedside lamp casted a warm glow over the room. Will’s form shielded him from the direct light. In fact, Will was all over him — kissing and stroking.

“Just wow?” Will asked, nuzzling into Mike’s temple. “I thought that I had, like… broken you or something? You were just shaking, crying, and moaning for at least three whole minutes.”

Mike felt his cheeks get warm. “Oh.”

“Hey, it was kind of hot,” Will admitted, kissing all over Mike’s flushed face. “I was just a little worried. I wasn’t doing it too hard, was I?”

“What?” Mike huffed a laugh. “No, it was perfect. Like, really fucking perfect, Will. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, you idiot,” Will said, cupping his cheek to meet his slightly dazed eyes. “I hate to see you so wound up, and it’s the least I can do to make you feel a little better.”

Mike rolled over onto his side, groaning. “You make me feel much better, actually.” Another groan, as Mike hoisted his leg over Will and pulled him closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Will slid his fingers into Mike’s damp hair. “Do you want me to run us a bath? You must be pretty sore.”

“Mhm, tomorrow.” Mike’s eyes fell shut. His palms slid under Will’s shirt, and he snuggled in closer. “Too sleepy.”

Will kissed his forehead and wrapped him in a tight, grounding grip. “You’re so gonna regret that.”

Mike hummed noncommittally. Perhaps he would. But right now, he could swear that Will’s sweet laughter would heal him better than any bath ever could.

And as sleep drew him in, Mike chose to believe that.