Archive of Our Own

Will rounded the wooden archway, already feeling on edge from the immense amount of pressure he was under.  His first art show of the year was in a few days, and he had been scrambling around for approximately six weeks.  Everything had to be perfect.  There was no negotiation—the show was either going to go his way or go to Hell.

Unfortunately, Mike had also been incredibly tense for the past few weeks.  Tonight was the biggest night of his career—he was going to sign a massive publishing deal for his fantasy trilogy.  He and Will were invited out to dinner with a couple of representatives from Simon & Schuster, which had been Mike’s dream publishing company since he was old enough to know what that was. 

They hadn’t had sex in two weeks.

From late nights to early mornings, there hadn’t been any overlap in rest between their opposing schedules.  Will had been trying his hardest to save his pent-up sexual frustration for whenever Mike had a moment, but alas, he always fell asleep before Mike got home. 

This meant constant arguments.

Will entered the kitchen with the intent of grabbing a cup of coffee when he saw it.  His blood immediately started to boil, heating up his gut until he fully saw red. 

Oh, hell no.  I cannot do this right now.  Not today, Satan.

“Michael!” Will shouted, spinning away from the cherry-wood counters.

“What?” Mike called back, his voice coming from the recesses of their bedroom. 

“Get in here now.”

Will could hear Mike grumbling the entire time it took him to get from their bedroom to the kitchen in their very tiny flat.  As he rounded the corner, Will could see that Mike was trying to fasten a deep blue tie around his slender neck.  The sleeves of his white button-up were rolled to his elbows, and the narrow waist of his black slacks was cinched with a patent leather belt.  If Will weren’t so aggravated, he’d be salivating.

“Jesus Christ, Will,” Mike grumbled, his dark eyes flashing in the golden, setting sun. “My full name?  Really?  What is it now?”

Oh, the fucking insolence.  You’ve got to be kidding me.

“What is it now?  What is it now?  Are you serious, Mike?” Will seethed, throwing his hands up.  He rounded on the coffee machine and pointed at the very apparent lack of water. “How many times do I have to tell you to refill the goddamn water?  I’ve asked you seven times this week alone.  It’s not that fucking hard.”

“And now you’ve asked me eight,” Mike snipped back, his nostrils flaring as he finished knotting the tie.  

That little comment did absolutely nothing to alleviate the situation.  In fact, it filled him with an inordinate amount of ire that pulsed through him with such strength it was a miracle he hadn’t imploded.  Will was about to go full Bruce Lee-mode when Mike threw his hands up with frustrated resignation, moving around Will to reach the coffee machine.

“I’ll fill it up now, Will.  Would that make you happy?” Mike huffed, his brows scrunched as he stared at Will with wide eyes.

“No, Mike!” Will exasperated, rolling his eyes. “I want you to replace the water when you use the last of it.  That’s my fucking point.”

“So… you don’t want me to fill it up?” Mike puzzled, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

He’s acting dumb on purpose.  He is purposefully trying to anger me.  For what reason, I don’t know.  I don’t understand—right before this meeting?  Now was the best time for him to pull this?

“No!  I do want you to.  I just want you to continue to do it whenever you use the last of the water.  Do you not understand?  It’s the principle of the thing, Michael.”

Mike shook his head and yanked the clear plastic water reservoir from the black machine.  He muttered under his breath the entire time that he held it underneath the faucet, the whooshing of the water failing to mask the word, “brat.”

What did he just say?

“Excuse me?” Will whispered, unable to speak at a normal volume.  He needed to keep his cool.  As annoyed as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to yell at Mike right before his meeting—it was too important. “I’m not sure I heard you correctly.  What did you call me?”

Mike finished filling the reservoir before whirling on Will, the tips of his ears burning red.

“I said, you’re being a fucking brat, Will,” Mike snarled.  Will jolted, completely taken aback by Mike’s brazen confession.  He’d assumed that he would say, “nothing” or “I’m sorry” and give up.

Will felt a twinge of guilt wrack through him before he was overcome with fury once more.  The blue marble and maple kitchen around them faded into nonexistence as he looked at his boyfriend.  Mike was standing less than a foot away, looking down at him with a steely expression on his face.

“Say that again, Michael.”

Mike arched his brows challengingly, not backing down whatsoever at Will’s warning tone.  The air around them immediately stilled, seemingly waiting with bated breath to see what Mike would do next.  Would he apologize, or would he double down on the insult?

“You’ve been a whiny brat all week, Will,” Mike fumed, his voice hushed and low. “You always get like this whenever you have a show coming up, but I’m always good.  Are you going to be able to behave for me tonight?  Because I need you to, Will.  I need you on your best fucking behavior.”

Will stopped moving completely.  The breath in his lungs froze as he stared back at Mike, whose face was resolute.  A solid thirty seconds passed before he leaned in, placed his hand over Mike’s heart, and whispered in his ear.

“Make me.”

Immediately, Mike’s heartbeat sped up beneath Will’s palm.  He smirked, thinking that his job was done, and turned to heat up the water in the coffee machine.  However, before he could move more than a solid foot, Mike’s long fingers wrapped around Will’s wrist and swung him around.  He yanked Will right up against his body and held fast onto his arm. 

Will could feel every inch of Mike pressed flush into him.  He was hard.  Undeniably so.  Will’s breath hitched in his throat as Mike leaned down and whispered in his ear.

“I will make you.  I don’t think I can trust you to conduct yourself on your own.  You’ve been too…” Mike trailed off, his breath warm against Will’s neck.  A shiver snaked down his spine as his eyes fluttered shut. “Frustrated.”

Will clenched his hands into fists, trying his best to fight his body’s obvious response to the proximity.  The heat was too much to handle.  It was too fucking much, especially given the lack of sex from the previous two weeks.  Will hadn’t even been able to bring himself to jerk off—how could he when he had Mike?  It was like comparing a crumb of regurgitated, stale bread to a five Michelin-star meal.  The problem was that it didn’t compare.

“Yeah?  Are you gonna fuck me into obedience, Mike?” Will whispered, unfurling his fists to clutch at Mike’s narrow waist. “Are you gonna fix me now?  Do you really think you can do that?”

Mike absolutely could do that.  In fact, he’d done it many, many times.  Will was trembling in anticipation, the anger that he’d felt from just moments prior completely dissipating into the ether.  He fitted his hips against Mike’s, standing up on his tiptoes to do so, and slowly, ever so deliberately, grinded into him once. 

The feeling of Mike’s length dragging against his sent shockwaves of ecstasy throughout him.  It’d been too fucking long since he’d felt Mike’s heat against his body.  A thin whine escaped his lips, disappearing into Mike’s head of onyx curls.  But before he could roll into him again, Mike’s hands flew down to his hips and pinned him in place, effectively preventing him from moving at all.

“Mike, please,” Will moaned, dissatisfaction trickling over him at the sudden loss of too-brief friction.  He’d been reduced to a fucking beggar.  It was pathetic. “What’re you doing to me?”

“So now you’re not angry?” Mike tutted, shaking his head at Will as he continued to hold him down. “If only I knew that you were just… pent-up.  I could’ve solved the bickering from the beginning.”

“Mike, seriously,” Will said breathlessly, glaring at Mike. “Stop it.”

“I can’t fuck you right now, Will,” Mike whispered, his darkened eyes flickering down to his mouth.  Will subconsciously bit his bottom lip, feeling the need to relieve some of the pressure that had built low in his stomach. “We have to leave in twenty minutes, and I take my time with you.  So no, we’re not going to fuck.”

“Then why should I behave for you?” Will retorted.  He saw red, the anger from before simmering in his chest yet again.

“You’ll have no choice but to,” Mike responded.  He let go of Will, reached into the back pocket of his tailored slacks, and pulled out a blue silicone butt plug. 

Will stared blankly at the toy.  It was big, and the end curved inward, but other than that, it just looked like a regular fucking butt plug.  Will didn’t understand what it was supposed to do for him. 

I thought Mike knew how the male body worked.  What the fuck does he think this is gonna do for me?  And… what is he wanting me to do with this, anyway?  Is it just so that I’m prepped and ready for after the dinner?  I mean… I guess, bro. 

“Mike, honey,” Will said slowly, fully prepared to explain that he wasn’t going to be able to get off with just a butt plug.  I mean… maybe?  I haven’t cum in two weeks.  Who knows what could happen? 

Mike shook his head, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  With his other hand, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a matching, tiny remote.  Before Will could say anything, Mike clicked the button, and the butt plug began to vibrate. 

Will’s eyes went wide.  To say he was gobsmacked was an understatement.  His brain completely short-circuited, nothing filling his head except for static and fuzz.  Did Mike… plan this?

“Mike,” Will breathed, his voice faint.

“Put this in,” Mike commanded, placing the device inside Will’s limp hands and closing his fingers around it. “You say one wrong thing, or put one toe out of line, and I turn it on.  Do you understand?”

“Are you trying to make me cum in front of your publishers?” Will gasped, his pulse climbing high into his throat at the thought.  He could practically see it happening: Mike turning the vibrator on, Will being unable to control himself, an absolute disaster ensuing afterwards. 

But on the other hand… it was fucking hot.  The idea of keeping this debaucherous secret in front of Mike’s superiors on the biggest night of his career caused Will to quietly gasp with arousal. 

I’ll be getting off the whole time, and they won’t suspect a thing.  Jesus Christ.

Mike chuckled and gently placed the remote back into his pocket, patting it with his veiny hands.  Will loved his hands.  He couldn’t help but trail after them with his eyes, couldn’t help but watch the way that the tendons rippled.  They resembled the oily movement of the ocean, perfectly recreated the smooth waves that swelled at sea. 

“Like I said, if you’re good… then you don’t have to worry about that,” Mike said smugly, smirking as he crossed his arms across his chest. “But I need you to put that in, Will.  Consider it… insurance.”

Will swallowed and stared at Mike for several seconds before tipping his chin in the tiniest of nods.  Mike’s face immediately melted into a grin.  He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Will’s hot cheek, the touch a caress more than anything else. 

“You’re so good for me,” Mike whispered.  Will shuddered at the loss of touch when Mike moved back.  He then spoke at a normal volume, the smirk from before plastered back onto his face.  “Go get ready.  I’ll make your coffee.”

God, I fucking love him.

Will watched Mike turn around for just a moment, admiring the way his forearms flexed as he moved about the kitchen.  His heart swelled with affection for him, nearly bursting out of his chest in an attempt to smother Mike with love.  However, he did have… other body parts that were taking over his mind. 

He made his way to the bathroom and closed the door behind him with a quiet snick of the lock.  He immediately slumped against the door and released a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding.  Looking down, he stared and stared at the deceivingly innocent butt plug that was resting in his hand.  The blue silicone was silky against his skin, the matte sheen of it seeming to absorb the light emanating from their clean bathroom. 

“Fuck,” Will breathed.  Giggles bubbled up inside him, threatening to burst out loudly.  He clapped his palm over his mouth before Mike heard him, his body shaking from the sudden onslaught of giddy laughter. “Holy shit.”

He walked over to the shower, flicked on the handle to the hottest possible setting, and watched as whorls of white steam began to fill the air.  Sighing, he walked over to the toilet and began the unpleasant process involved with prepping.  Fortunately, he’d been prepping every single day for a fortnight with the hopes that he and Mike would have sex, so he wasn’t entirely starting from scratch. 

With both his libido and his hopes high, Will began the fastest prep of his life. 

God, the things I do for Mike.

۩۩۩۩۩

Will gently dried himself off, feeling full as he wrapped the towel around his waist and made his way out of the bathroom.  He smelled like lavender; beads of water dripped down his back, racing down his skin until they pooled on the towel.  The polished floors felt cool and smooth beneath the pads of his feet as he walked to the bedroom.  The raucous bustle of New York City permeated through the windows of their flat, ringing through his ears as he took in the sunset.  It was nearly 5:30 p.m., which was when they needed to leave. 

He twisted the slick metal knob and pushed the door in.  Mike was sitting on the bed next to Will’s tuxedo, evidently waiting for him.  A steaming mug of coffee rested on their nightstand, filling the air with a rich, nutty scent.

Will suddenly felt shy, unable to make eye contact with Mike, and instead beelined straight for the closet. 

How ironic.

He didn’t get the chance to open the wood-paneled doors before Mike spoke up. 

“Come here.”

Will closed his eyes and took two deep breaths before walking over to Mike, who was looking back up from checking the time on his watch.  Will silently prayed to whatever gods that might be up above that his dick wouldn’t get hard the second Mike said anything to him—he’d made it abundantly clear that they were going to have to wait. 

“Turn around and drop the towel,” Mike demanded softly, his pupils so dilated that there was only a ring of brown around the blackness.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

That seemed like a solid enough reason to Will.  He obeyed Mike and dropped the towel with a whoosh as he turned around, his breath quickening as the cool air hit his skin.  He stared at the wooden door across from him as he waited in anticipation, trying desperately to admire the knots dotted into the oak.  Right as he was about to start counting the paintings along the walls, he felt Mike’s cool hands splay onto his ass. 

“Bend over,” Mike said quietly. 

Oh, my God.  Are we going to…?

Will immediately arched his back and bent forward slightly, allowing Mike access. 

He felt Mike’s cool fingers trail along his ass, moving closer and closer to the plug that was nestled deep within him.  Slowly, Mike spread him open and whistled lowly. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered, the pads of his thumbs inching closer.  As if it were the most precious thing in the world, Mike gently pressed on the base of the plug, if only to check that it truly was there. 

Will gasped at the pressure, a bolt of pleasure shooting through him as it brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves.  But before he could truly get off to it, Mike let go.  He pressed a soft kiss to Will’s ass, and then flipped him around. 

Mike wrapped his arms around Will’s waist, possessively clutching at the skin on his back as he rested his chin against the smooth panels of Will’s stomach.  His heart fluttered yet again from the intimacy.  He couldn’t help himself from running his hands over Mike’s muscled back, relishing in the feel of the cords beneath his palms. 

“Can I help you get dressed?” Mike asked, his eyes deceptively innocent as he stared up at Will.  The juxtaposition of the pure look on his face next to Will’s hard dick nearly made him snort.  Smiling down at him, Will nodded. 

Mike grinned and pulled back.  He yanked out a pair of black lace panties that weren’t going to cover jackshit; they were decorated with a tiny black bow on the front, as if to say, I’m a good girl.  He waved it around and bounced his eyebrows suggestively with a ridiculously dopey grin on his face.  Mike looked a little too happy for someone who was going to have to wait several more hours to have sex. 

“Really, Mike?  Panties?” Will rolled his eyes, a wide smile stretching across his face as he allowed Mike to pull them up his legs. 

“I couldn’t resist,” Mike chuckled. “They look so perfect on you.”

Will giggled as Mike helped him into the rest of his outfit—especially when Mike fastened his tie for him.  It was a ritual of theirs—Will didn’t know how to knot a tie, and Mike had been exceptional at it since he was thirteen.  It was destiny.

Mike glanced at his watch and gasped loudly. 

“Shit, Will—shit.  We’ve gotta now or we’re gonna be late.  I cannot be late to this.”

“Hey, wait,” Will interrupted, putting his hands on his shoulders to steady him. “Listen to me, baby.  You’re going to fucking crush it.  You were born for this.  Believe in yourself.”

“Thank you,” Mike murmured, his panicked eyes softening as he gazed at Will. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

Mike cupped Will’s cheeks and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.  His mouth was soft and warm, gently brushing against Will’s skin in such a way that it sent a cascade of shivers down his spine.  They still gave each other butterflies after all this time, and they always would.  No matter how many arguments they got into, they would always have each other at the end of the day.

“Alright, alright!” Will exclaimed. “Let’s go.”

They tried to run outside, but Will couldn’t move very fast without feeling the plug brushing against his nerves too much.  He wasn’t trying to catch an indecent exposure charge. 

Eventually, they made it to the congested streets and stood on the curb as Mike waved down a taxi.  By the grace of God, they managed to snag one of the yellow cabs with thirty seconds of standing there.  The second they climbed into the car, Mike yelled the location, and they were off on the road. 

The closer they got to the restaurant, the more hyperaware of the sex toy Will became.  While he felt it with every little movement of his hips, he knew it wasn’t quite enough to get him off.  However, the second that Mike turned it on?  He was a goner.  He might as well come with a sign plastered to his forehead that read, “Big Horny Pervert!” in bold red lettering.

I can handle this.  Mike said this was just for insurance.  I have to be on my best behavior, which shouldn’t be that hard.  “Yes, sir”, “no, sir”, “what a lovely blouse, ma’am”.  See?  It’s not that difficult.  I’ve got this.

No matter what Will told himself, there was still that egging voice of paranoia at the back of his head.  He kept glancing towards Mike’s hands, noticing that one of them was resting deep within his pants pocket the entire time.  Was it resting on the remote?  Was his thumb gently circling over the button?  Was he thinking about pressing it?

“Hey, baby?” Will asked softly, trying not to be overheard by the cab driver.  Mike glanced over at him, a subconscious smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he rested his head against the back of the seat.  Will almost forgot his question as he looked at him.  Mike was simply beautiful.  He radiated with a subtle glow that Will knew was reserved only for him. “Am I just your friend tonight?  Or do they know?”

In October of 1995, it was still as dangerous as ever to be a gay man—especially a gay man in a committed relationship.  The repercussions of the AIDs epidemic still hung over their heads, haunting every public move they ever made.  Will had slightly more expressive freedom in the New York art scene than most gay folks, but it still wasn’t necessarily safe.  Most of the time, they went out in public as “friends” who were a tad too comfortable with each other. 

Fortunately, they’d found and built a little community of queer people the longer that they’d lived in the city.  Nearly every restaurant they frequented was emblazoned with a little pride flag sticker on their windows, signifying that they were able to be themselves.  Every safe haven felt like a breath of fresh air, a place where they could hook their pinkies together without fear of retaliation.  They’d since learned to only attend places that openly accepted them.

The people that Will worked with were mainly queer folks.  The nonprofit he threw art shows for specifically raised funds for gay youth, promising to contribute to a brighter, better future.  One in which they could coexist with straight people.  One in which Mike and Will could legally get married.  It seemed so far away, yet every show reminded Will why he was doing it in the first place: for a world where love of any color could be celebrated.

With Mike’s line of work, it was a little different.  Yes, he was essentially an independent contractor as an author, but he wanted to be published with Simon & Schuster, one of the biggest houses in the world.  It wasn’t Will’s culture, so he didn’t know what was acceptable and what wasn’t.  Ultimately, if they were attending the dinner as friends tonight, Will would understand.  He was just happy to be cheering Mike on, right by his side.  Right where he truly belonged.  With the love of his life that he could only proclaim from the safety of their shoebox apartment.

Mike’s eyes scrunched up as his smile widened.  He took Will’s hand into his own and brushed the lightest of kisses across his knuckles, a gesture that melted Will’s heart into a puddle of warm goo.

“I forgot to tell you,” Mike whispered, his voice bright with glee.  His gaze flickered between Will’s rapidly, far too excited to stay put in one place. “It was one of my nonnegotiables.  They know, and… they’re okay with it.  The restaurant we’re going to is queer-friendly, too.  I refuse to sacrifice my relationship and my truth with you for a stupid book deal.  You’re the most important thing in my life, Will.  So tonight, you’re not just my friend.  You’re not just my boyfriend.  You’re the love of my life.  Out loud.  For everyone to see.” 

For everyone to see.

Hot tears pricked at the corners of Will’s eyes, threatening to spill onto his lapels.  Despite the bumpy ride, all Will saw and felt was Mike.  At this rate, his heart was going to burst out of his chest and smack Mike right in his stupidly pretty face.

“Mike…” Will said thickly, his vision blurring as he lost the battle with his tears. “You didn’t have to potentially sacrifice your career for me.”

“It wouldn’t have been a sacrifice, Will,” Mike murmured, reaching up to softly swipe away the rivulets cascading down Will’s cheeks. “Truly.  If there’s one thing that I know in this life, it’s that I love you.  I don’t need anything beyond that.”

“I love you, too,” Will vowed.  He kept that oath within him like a precious jewel, storing it next to his Mike-tattooed heart.

They rode the rest of the journey in companionable silence, their pinkies interlocked for the entire duration.  Enough time had passed after this new revelation that Will became all-too aware of what was currently buried deep within him like a ticking bomb.

It was hard to ignore it when every time he moved, it brushed against his prostate.  After two weeks of no sex and pent up frustration, he was sensitive.  It was borderline painful.  He was worried that he was going to have to sit through the duration of this crucial meal in a constant state of arousal. 

What the fuck was Mike thinking?

 “Alright.” The squat, ruddy driver pulled over and glanced in the rearview mirror. “That’ll be thirty dollars.”

“Thirty dollars?  For a fifteen minute drive?” Mike exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up past his hairline.  Will felt embarrassment curdle deep in his gut as Mike set about arguing.  He would’ve been content to just pay the bill and leave, but alas and alack, Mike was a ridiculously stubborn man with a penny-pincher mentality. 

“Mike…” Will reprimanded, wanting nothing more than to leave the cab and just enter the restaurant. 

Mike turned on Will and flashed him a warning glare that said, let me handle this. 

“No, Mike—let’s just go,” Will quietly pleaded.  Mike ignored him—or so Will thought. 

Suddenly, there was a jolt from deep within Will’s core.  Mike had turned the fucking vibrator on.  That audacious little bitch.  Will gasped sharply as the plug buzzed against his nerves, lighting him up with an insane amount of criminal sensation.  Heat pooled low in his gut immediately, shooting straight to his dick.  His pants tightened painfully, stretching across him as he tried to fight the pleasure.  He couldn’t help but squirm and try to move away from the pressure building against his nerves.  But it was no use—the movement heightened everything by tenfold.  A quiet whimper escaped his lips, thin as it reached the air.

Almost as quickly as it began, Mike turned it back off.  A warning. 

Holy shit.  I’m not going to survive this dinner.

“Let me handle it, Will,” Mike murmured lowly, his eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at the driver. 

He tried to slow his breathing down, tried to will his dick to soften yet again.  Will was numb to the entire argument, his mouth gaped open as his vision glazed over.  He couldn’t stop thinking about how illicitly good it felt… specifically to be completely at the mercy of Mike. 

I can’t gasp again.  Not in front of the publishers.  Especially since they know that we’re together.  I don’t think I’d be able to pass it off as IBS. 

Eventually, the men stopped arguing, and Mike ushered Will out of the yellow vehicle.  As they closed the door, the driver shouted a righteous, “Fuck you!” and sped off.  The dramatic exit had less of an impact, however, because the traffic was jampacked.  The driver ended up stuck between two other aggravated chaffeurs. 

Will would’ve laughed at this, but he couldn’t focus on anything except the fact that Mike had already “punished” him for stepping out of line.  Mike was dead fucking serious about using it. 

“Alright,” Mike said, turning towards the restaurant emblazoned with the sign Le Coucou in delicate golden lettering. “Let’s go.  They’re waiting.”

Will’s jaw fell open.  Mike was being so casual about the fact that he’d just fucking edged him.  No, he wasn’t just being casual—he was acting as though it hadn’t happened.  He reached for Will’s hand and squeezed it once.  His palm was callused and completely normal.  Nothing felt normal to Will in that moment—how was Mike so unaffected?

Well, two can play at that game.  I can make him twitch just as much—if not more—than he can. 

Will nodded at Mike and plastered a nonchalant smile onto his face in a valiant attempt to appear impassive, despite the fact that he’d been whining from unlawful pleasure not two minutes prior.

The streets were teeming with pedestrians as they walked up to the restaurant.  From the outside, it was a fine, red-brick establishment that was adorned with hanging plantars in shades of peridot and emerald.  There was a balcony on the second floor that was encrusted with ornate black railings.  All in all, it was stunning.  But the feature that stood out to Will the most?  The tiny pride flag sticker on the lower-right corner of the warmly-lit windows.  He was flooded with relief and gratefulness at the fact that Mike’s publishers were so accepting.  That didn’t stop the nerves from coming in, though.  He wanted this to be a success for Mike more than anything else—as long as the plug didn’t get in the way, everything should be fine.

A doorman in a crisp white suit opened the ornate doors for them and ushered them in with a practiced smile.  As soon as Will entered, he gasped—it was gorgeous.  Crystal chandeliers with amber lights dotted the ceiling, a live string quartet was playing sweet classical music, and the walls were made of Grecian marble.  The nutty smell of French bread rent the air, wafting into his nose and making his mouth water.  The fanciest part of the restaurant wasn’t the architecture or personal waiters.  No, it was the customers.  Immediately, Will could tell that only highbrow, affluent oligarchs could afford to eat here. 

Gulping, he turned to Mike, who was waiting to be led to their table by a pretty, blonde hostess. 

He can’t turn it on here—not in front of the top one percent.  We already don’t fit in.  My tux is rented from fucking Ralph Lauren, not Dior or whatever the fuck these people wear.  God, they probably have a designer that us proletariats don’t even know about. 

“We’re here with Isabel Sutton and Richard Thornton,” Mike informed the hostess. “They should be here, already.”

“Right this way,” the blonde hostess said cheerfully.  She began to weave her way in between cream-clothed tables.  Will was about to follow her when Mike tugged on his elbow and leaned down to whisper in his ear. 

“Remember, Will,” Mike breathed, making Will shudder as his soft lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Behave.  No… brattiness tonight.  You can do that for me, right?”

“I can, I promise,” Will murmured weakly, his lashes fluttering against Mike’s high cheekbone.

“For who?” Mike challenged, pulling back slightly to look into Will’s eyes.  His own were dark and heavily lidded, desire palpable in his strong features. 

“For you, Mike.  I’m behaving… for you.”

A crooked smile tugged at the corners of Mike’s lips, a devious glint radiating from his irises.  He leaned down and whispered once more. 

“Good boy.”

Fuck.

With that, Mike laced his fingers through Will’s and gently led him to where the hostess was walking.  Because the restaurant was queer-friendly, they were essentially ignored—not many people batted an eye.  There was one old woman in a tweed Chanel suit who curled her lip at their joined hands, but other than that, it was smooth sailing. 

The hostess turned around smiling, her eyes scrunching up as she addressed them. 

“Your party is up on the balcony.  Follow me.”

As they made their way up the opulent stairs, Will could feel the plug brushing against his sweet spot with every movement.  He’d never put one this big in before, so he hadn’t been anticipating the constant contact with his prostate.  Every time the firm silicone pressed against it, a tiny gasp would escape his lips.  It took everything in his power to stop himself from getting hard.  He had to think of things that he would take to his grave.

Will let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in when they finally crested the stairs.  It was a crisp autumn day, the air as clean as it could get in New York.  The sun shone brightly from the horizon, painting an ombre of salmon, tangerine, and scarlet across the sky.  The balcony was filled with tables that were all occupied, ensuring maximum exposure. 

Great.  Just what I needed—a fucking audience.

No matter what he did, his thoughts ultimately strayed back to the toy nestled inside of him.  He couldn’t stop thinking about how much power was within Mike’s hands, as he’d so kindly demonstrated back at the taxi.  As they approached Mike’s finely-dressed publishers, it was all he could think about. 

Oh, God.  They know.  Can they see it in my face?  Is it obvious that I’m aroused? 

Mike didn’t let go of Will’s hand as Isabel and Richard stood up to greet them.  Isabel was a tall, willowy woman with a sharp, chestnut bob.  While her height was intimidating, she had a kind face that immediately helped Will to relax—not too much, though.  Richard, on the other hand, was a nerdy-looking man with rectangular glasses and gelled red hair. 

“Mike!” Isabel welcomed warmly, stretching out her hand to shake his.  Will’s eyes trailed the movement of his hand, catching on the soft hair that trailed down his forearms.  He could only see a sliver of it due to Mike’s blazer, but the preview made his mouth go dry.  He didn’t realize he was staring until Isabel addressed him. 

“And you must be Will,” she beamed.  Will jumped slightly with shock, feeling caught in the act of drooling over Mike’s fucking wrists.   Thirsty bitch. “Mike has told us so much about you.  I hear you’re an artist?”

“Yes!  Yes, I am,” Will stuttered, his face no doubt flushing a bright crimson as he shook her hand with the one not occupied by Mike. “It’s so great to meet you guys.”

“Likewise,” Richard interjected, a smile also gracing his features. “Let’s sit.  I’m starved.”

Will chuckled, immediately comforted by the kindness being displayed.  Mike pulled out Will’s upholstered chair for him, refusing to sit until Will was seated and pushed up to the table; once he was situated, Mike sat down in the floral chair next to him.  The cloth that adorned the table flowed halfway down to the ground, effectively concealing Will’s lap from Isabel and Richard, who were sitting across from them. 

“We ordered a bottle of riesling, if that’s okay,” Richard said, opening his satin-covered menu. “Do you like white, Will?”

“Oh, I don’t really drink,” Will responded, smiling apologetically. “I’m the boring sober guy.”

“Good for you,” Isabel remarked, winking at him. “Just a personal choice?”

“You could say that,” Will murmured, pulling the fancy menu closer towards him.  He silently praised himself for getting through that interaction without Mike pulling the trigger. 

Okay, this isn’t looking so difficult after all.  These are nice people.  They seem genuinely interested in me, which must mean that they’re genuinely interested in Mike’s work.  Why else would they give a fuck about what I think of anything?

Everyone settled into a few minutes of comfortable silence as they perused the menus.  Will had never heard of any of these dishes, and didn’t know how to pronounce any of them—he’d slept through his college French class. 

Will nudged Mike’s foot with his own to snag his attention.  Mike glanced to the side, a genuine smile melting the harsh lines of his face into a radiant sun.  Will bounced his eyebrows at Mike, as if to say, you good?, to which Mike nodded. 

“Here’s your riesling.” A tall, black-haired waiter appeared, presenting a fine bottle of wine.  He began to pour the sweet liquid into everyone’s wineglasses, passing over Will’s when he put his hand over his glass. “Can I get you started with some hors d’oeuvres?”

“Sure,” Richard said. “What does everyone think of the morilles farcies?”

What do I think?  I think nothing at all.  I don’t know what the fuck that is.  It’s probably a singular grape with three caviar eggs on top, wrapped with the nice price of a million dollars.

“Sounds good to me, Rich,” Mike responded jovially, knocking his knee against Will’s under the table in a way that said, I don’t know what the fuck that is, either.

“Excellent choice, sir,” their waiter said approvingly. “Shall I give you more time with the menus, or are you ready to order your entrees?”

I wonder if a requirement for this job is kissing ass.

“We’re ready,” Richard replied.

Will internally sighed with resignation.  He supposed he was just going to have to pick the dish that sounded the prettiest—it was all in French, and he assumed it would all come in a grand serving size of approximately two bites.  It wouldn’t matter if it was nasty or not—it’d be gone the second he breathed over it. 

Thank God almighty that the publishing house was paying for the meal—the menu didn’t have prices.  Money evidently wasn’t a factor to anyone who stepped foot inside these ornate doors. 

Will ended up ordering something that sounded like an incantation when he said it aloud.  Friendly conversation peppered the atmosphere as they waited for their hors d’oeuvres, mainly drivel and fluff about how their days had fared.  As time went on, Will was feeling more and more confident about his conversational skills.  Mike hadn’t turned the vibrator on, which must have meant that he was doing a good job. 

“So,” Isabel said loudly, business clear on her mind as she leaned forward.  Will was fascinated by her hair—the line of her bob was so sharp and clean that it resembled a sheet of paper as she moved. “As you know, we absolutely adore your series, Mike.  We want to represent you.”

“Oh, my God!” Will squealed, turning in his seat to face his boyfriend.  Mike was beaming and blushing, the prettiest peony shade lighting up his fair skin. “Mike, that’s incredible.”

Mike squeezed Will’s hand, a smile stretching his face to the absolute limit. “I’m beyond honored,” he said warmly. “It’s truly a dream come true.”

“We never did ask you,” Isabel began, swirling the glass of riesling in one hand. “What was the inspiration behind it?”

“Besides fighting interdimensional demons in my youth?” Mike said jokingly.  Will’s smile froze—if the plug was in Mike, and Will had the power, he would’ve turned it on.  Luckily, it was fucking outlandish, so the representatives just laughed.  Oh, thank God.  I’m gonna beat his ass when we get home. “We played Dungeons & Dragons all growing up.  This world is based around our characters.”

“When you say ‘our’, do you mean the two of you?” Richard asked, looking from Mike to Will. 

“Yeah!  Our entire friend group played,” Mike responded. “I was the paladin.  Will, why don’t you tell them about your character?”

“Oh, I was just a wizard,” Will said flippantly, waving his hand around. 

Without warning, Mike turned the vibrator on.  Will jumped and gasped loudly as it buzzed deep within him, lighting his nerves on fire.  It felt like he was about to start levitating as his chest fluttered with heat.  His heartbeat crept into his throat, entirely blocking off his air supply while he tried to regain his composure.  He was burning and aching; his mind was telling him that this was preposterous, while his body silently begged with Mike to not stop.  Isabel and Richard jolted with concern, the latter opening up his mouth to undoubtedly ask Will if he was okay when Mike cut them off. 

“You weren’t just a wizard, Will,” Mike tutted, shaking his head as a look of disapproval crossed over his features.  Will gawked at him with bulging eyes as he continued to let the plug vibrate.  His back was starting to arch from the sheer amount of pleasure he was desperate to escape. “Tell them about your role.”

“I—I was a cleric,” Will blustered, trying to will his voice into a normal, human register. “I drew power from the gods, and—and—”

He faltered as Mike increased the speed.  Slowly, he turned his head to look at him, at a complete loss for words as the sensation shot straight to his dick.  What the fuck did Mike want?  The publishers were staring at him as he twitched in place and stared at his conniving boyfriend. 

“Your powers are innate, Will,” Mike murmured softly, cocking his head to the side. “So, again, what were you?”

“A—a sorcerer,” Will rasped out. “I was a sorcerer.”

As soon as he said sorcerer, the vibrations ceased.  His taut, wired muscles immediately relaxed, and he melted back into his chair with relief.  His dick was painfully hard, leaking with precum that began to seep through his pants.  Those goddamn panties weren’t absorbing anything. 

It was incredibly difficult to contain his rapid breathing.  His lungs wanted nothing more than to hyperventilate, but he had to deprive himself of oxygen in order to appear to breathe normally.  He had to maintain his composure.  The scene he was causing was fucking unacceptable.

“A sorcerer, huh?” Richard repeated, choosing to completely ignore Will’s odd spastic episode. “That’s cool.  What about your friends?”

Mike went on to explain the characters that everyone else played, rewarding Will with a brief reprieve from talking.  The pressure that had built in his dick caused him to throb with soreness.  Where the pants had fit absolutely perfectly an hour prior, they now stretched across his hips uncomfortably. 

With the attention off himself, he snaked his hand underneath the tablecloth and pressed it against his erection.  He tried frantically to relieve some of the tension by spreading the blood, but it was too late.  There was nothing he could do now to dispel it.  He couldn’t help the tiny whine that escaped him as he unzipped his fly—the relief he felt was infinitesimal, but nearly orgasmic.  Oh, the irony.

Luckily, the publishers didn’t hear his little moan, but judging by the way that the muscles in Mike’s jaw flexed, he most definitely heard it.  While it was subtle, this small detail told Will that Mike was getting off to this, too. 

An idea crept its way into his brain.  It was criminally insane, but Will couldn’t focus on anything else.  He’d never been more aroused and narrow-minded in his life, his attention zeroed in on the way his hands itched to touch Mike. 

I can do so much worse, baby.  You don’t know what you’ve just done.

The length of the tablecloth was a blessing in hindsight. 

Will snaked his hand underneath the cloth and slowly gripped Mike’s knee.  Will pretended to absorb himself in the conversation, laughing at all the right places and nodding his head seriously.  What the publishers couldn’t see was his hand slowly creeping up Mike’s thigh.  He trailed his fingers lightly, teasing Mike with the subtle threat of touch. 

Mike’s voice hitched up fractionally.  It was something that only Will was able to notice; after all the years that he’d known Mike intimately, he knew exactly how his voice shifted whenever he was turned on and aching for more.  Smirking to himself, Will dragged his fingers further up, until he was tracing everywhere but Mike’s dick.  He wasn’t going to let him get quite what he wanted.  No—Will was going to torture him with the possibility. 

The waiter came back with their hors d’oeuvres on an engraved silver platter.  As he explained the dish to the publishers, Mike leaned down and whispered feverishly in Will’s ear.

“What’re you doing?”

Will widened his eyes innocently as he continued to massage the apex of Mike’s thighs.  His brows screwed with fake concern as he whispered back, “I’m not sure what you mean, baby.  Is something wrong?”

Mike’s ebony eyebrows twitched as he took in Will’s deceptive rebellion.  After a minute during which he frantically searched Will’s hazel eyes, he puffed a short laugh through his nostrils and leaned in once more.

“Are you sure you want to play this game, Will?  I can make this really, really difficult for you.  I don’t think you can handle it.”

With the lightest of touches, Will trailed his thumb over Mike’s very hard dick.  He made sure to trace the underside of the head, the part that Will knew made him go crazy with pleasure.  He circled it twice, making sure that his hand was completely concealed underneath the table.  His palms ached to take Mike’s length into them, to feel his silky skin become slick with precum as he stroked it up and down.  But he was going to have to wait until they got back home.

Mike took in a sharp breath, his thighs tensing as Will continued to knead the head.  Ducking his chin, Will murmured softly in his ear.

“Oh, this isn’t a game, love.  Are you afraid you’ll slip up?  Because I can stop.  Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

Will waited with bated breath as Mike stared at him, the faintest hint of shock visible in the way his lips were slightly parted.  Will gave Mike until the waiter stopped droning about the nasty mushroom appetizer to tell him to stop.  But as the waiter walked away, Mike didn’t admonish him.  Will turned back to the conversation at hand and bit back a crazed smirk as he trailed his fingers up the planes of Mike’s lower stomach.  He could feel him quivering beneath his touch, his skin burning up with anticipation. 

Will had the sudden, insatiable urge to run his fingers through the soft trail of hair beneath Mike’s belly button.  As Isabel told Will about her collegiate journey, Will slipped two fingers into the waistband of Mike’s slacks and untucked his button-up. 

“You went to Columbia?  Impressive,” Will remarked as he fingered the downy hair.  He was tempted to move further into Mike’s pants, to lap up the fluids that he knew were leaking, but he refused to give in just yet.  As he pulled his fingers out of Mike’s waistband, he heard the audible click of the remote moments before he felt it again. 

This time, he was more prepared.  He clenched his jaw tightly and gripped onto Mike’s thigh as the vibrations pulsed into him.  It was fucking electric, being able to touch and hold Mike but unable to truly do anything about it while he was getting off like this.  His back began to subconsciously curve as he fought through the waves of pleasure that were washing over him. 

At this point, bruises had to have formed on Mike’s thigh from the white-knuckled grip he had on him.  As he forced himself to take deep, steadying breaths, Richard turned to him.  Will plastered a pained smile onto his face that literally caused his ears to flex in his attempt to seem normal. 

“So, how long have y’all been together?” Richard gestured between the two of them as he delicately placed a mushroom monstrosity on his small appetizer plate.  These mushrooms were covered in tiny holes, a fact that made Will mildly uncomfortable.  He chose not to look at them for the rest of the evening.  Besides, he had… other things to concentrate on. 

“Since we were eighteen,” Will said through slightly gritted teeth.  Just then, Mike increased the speed, sending pulsing waves throughout his gut.  The pressure continued to build,  tightening his skin in a way that nearly made him moan.  Mike must want me to go into more detail. “It’s been about… six years, at this point?  We’ve… been through… a lot… together.”

Will had to keep pausing and taking deep breaths in between words, trying his best to fight through the feeling.  He felt fucking drunk.  He’d never felt this sickeningly good in his entire life. 

I need to touch him.  I need him in my hands, with my fingers around him.  I want to feel how hard he is for me. 

Richard and Isabel exclaimed and congratulated them on the longevity of their relationship, which would’ve been objectively odd if Will weren’t so preoccupied.  Mike went on to entertain the conversation, which Will had completely checked out of by then.  Unlike the teasing slowness of last time, Will’s hand shot to Mike’s pants. 

He quickly slipped his hand inside and grasped Mike’s dick.  It was hot in his fist, and he gave it a possessive squeeze.  Mike gasped at the contact, his eyes going wide.  But he was a professional—he didn’t break character as he continued to laugh with his bosses. 

Will wasn’t inside of Mike’s slacks to give him a simple handjob, though.  No—he had a mission, a purpose for seeking it out.  Slowly, he dragged his fist up and ran his thumb over Mike’s slit to gather every drop of precum.  His dick and stomach twitched against Will’s grip, begging for the mercy of release, which he wasn’t going to give.  When he was confident he’d collected all of the silky liquid, he pulled his hand back out. 

When the publishers weren’t looking, Will brought his thumb up to his lips and waited for Mike to look at him.  Slowly, Mike’s eyes found his, and widened with shock as Will dragged his tongue along his thumb and lapped up every bit of it.

God, the saltiness of it was fucking insatiable.  Will wanted nothing more than to wrap his lips around Mike’s length and stroke him until he was pulsing with cum.  But he had to cover Mike back up—they were in public, after all. 

Reaching under the table, Will covered Mike’s exposed tip with his pants and zipped him back up.  He smirked through the tension building low in his stomach, relishing in the way that Mike’s lids grew heavy with wanton desire.  But instead of lowering the speed or turning the plug off, Mike decided to punish Will even further.   

He couldn’t help the whimper that escaped him this time.  His voice was loud and strained as his ass lifted off the cushioned seat.  Mike had turned the fucking speed to unprecedented levels; the plug burned inside of him, overpowering any semblance of thought.  His fists were clenched so tightly that his nails left little crescent-shaped punctures in his palms. 

“Will?” Isabel worried, leaning forward sharply. “Are you okay?  What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong is that I’m not being fucked right now.

“I’m—fine,” he gasped, trying desperately to sound normal. “I’ve just—got some… stomach issues.”

God, he couldn’t even push a coherent sentence fully out.  He took a great, dragging breath in through his nose as the publishers’ eyebrows scrunched together with concern. 

“I have Advil,” she responded, reaching for her brown Coach purse. “Take some.”

At this point, he was physically unable to talk and reject her pain medicine.  She quickly unscrewed the lid, tapped two terracotta-colored pills into her palm, and placed them on his appetizer plate.  Will whimpered yet again as he reached for them and swallowed them dry. 

“I also have terrible stomach issues,” Richard chimed in warmly, clearly trying to make Will feel unembarrassed. 

Will didn’t have it in him to feel embarrassed. 

Mike’s hand crept beneath the tablecloth to greedily land on Will’s trembling thigh.  It was almost too much to have him touch this innocuous part of his body; every little fraction of his skin that Mike’s hand covered was on the brink of exploding. 

He clenched his teeth together in determination to ride out this dinner successfully.  Fighting through the tingling sensation in his lower abdomen, Will swallowed and cleared his throat to open it up. 

I’m not fucking letting Mike win this.

Just then, the waiter came by with their beautifully laid entrees.  Amidst all the hubbub, Will allowed himself to grind down into the chair once.  The plug sank deeper into him, vibrating with greater pressure against his sensitive spot and causing him to break out into a sweat.  It felt so good that his eyes fluttered shut for a moment.  The only thing tethering him to reality was Mike’s hand on his knee. 

God, it fucking hurt.  It hurt so badly to sit there and deny himself release.  What a cruel, cruel thing Mike had done to him.  The plug was unrelenting and vicious; Mike clearly had no intention of turning it off anymore.  Will was going to have to suffer through the rest of dinner and do everything in his power to not orgasm.

He shot his hand out and grabbed his glass of water.  He forced himself to not guzzle it in one gulp, and sipped it slowly through the waves of blinding sensation instead.  Once he’d drank it all, he looked at his entrée: it was an entire roasted rabbit.  If he wasn’t so dazed and out of it, he would’ve been disgusted and vowed to become vegan.

Okay.  I think I can do this.  I can talk.

“What specifically drew you guys to Mike’s book?” Will asked in a thin voice.  He might not have sounded fine, per se, but he’d managed to get the sentence out without shuddering. 

“The story is just so… whimsical,” Isabel responded, her eyes twinkling as she thought about it.  She cut into her orange-glazed veal with gusto as she continued. “We’ve been searching high and low for a story just like it.  It was kismet.”

“Yeah, he’s fucking amazing,” Will breathed, his eyes beginning to water.  He hoped that he could pass it off purely as heartfelt emotion for his boyfriend’s writing career. 

“He really is—and he’s lucky to have you.  You’re so sweet, Will,” she hummed, spearing a piece of meat and winking as she took a bite.

She really knows nothing.  Incredible.

“I really am lucky,” Mike murmured, squeezing Will’s thigh with a vague sense of urgency. “Thank you, baby.”

Will winked at him before he grimaced.  His vision was starting to tunnel, the world around him turning black as the toy continued to pulsate.  The shockwaves were starting to overlap into a constant, crashing blanket of barely suppressed ecstasy.  He was losing an uphill battle with his body, his mind unable to distract from the pleasurable pain for much longer.

Everyone except for Will dug into their meals.  He’d barely registered that there was an entire fucking dead animal on his plate; he couldn’t stomach it.  He also wouldn’t be able to stomach his favorite meal.  The only thing he wanted to consume was Mike, and that was something he wasn’t allowed to have right now. 

“Are you not hungry, babe?” Mike asked innocently, his eyes wide as he took a bite of his buttered lobster.  Will was utterly entranced with Mike’s mouth, unable to look away from an errant drop of butter that had pooled in the cushion of his lower lip.  He could almost taste it, could almost feel the velvety smoothness of the liquid on his tongue.  More than anything, though, he wanted to bite him.  He was filled with the raw, carnal desire to consume Mike until their bodies were completely merged.

“I’m very hungry,” Will whispered, tilting his cloudy head and staring at that damned drop of butter.  I’m so close.  I could just lick it.  I bet it’s salty and slightly sweet, just like him. 

“Yeah?” Mike breathed, finally bringing his lip into his mouth to drink up the golden liquid.  It felt like a brutal tease, like Mike was taunting him with the possibility of what he could have. 

Two weeks without Mike inside of him left him ravenous and utterly reckless.  They hadn’t so much as kissed for more than five minutes; every time they did was when Will had been on the brink of falling asleep.  He knew he was deprived, but he hadn’t realized he needed it this much.  Being teased and denied an orgasm for nearly an hour now was fucking killing him.

“Mhm,” Will hummed, his voice strained behind his bitten lips.  He was back to being unable to articulate himself, his mouth dry from deep thirst. 

Mike’s eyes flashed with a darkness that Will hadn’t been privy to for a fortnight now.  It sent his heart swooping in his chest; it was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there.  Will had to wrench his gaze away and close his eyes for a solid minute. 

“So, Mike,” Richard began.  He pulled out a piece of paper with a barrage of fine print on it, including a signature line at the bottom.  Mike’s hand started to trail up Will’s thigh as he stared at the contract that would go on to change their lives.  The touch left a path of fire in his wake, causing Will to erupt into gooseflesh as a shiver shot down his spine.  At the same moment that Richard slid the paper across the table, Mike’s fingers pressed into Will’s ass, deepening the angle of the plug. 

Will saw white. 

He gasped so loudly that haughty people from neighboring tables swiveled around to stare at him.  Isabel passed it off for him, saying, “Yes!  It’s amazing.  We officially want to sign you on.”

But it was too late.  Will physically could not withstand it anymore.  He shot up from the table, sliding the chair back with a screech.  Luckily, he had the forethought to hold his suit jacket in front of him to conceal any damning evidence.  The publishers stared up at him with impossibly high eyebrows, alarm palpable on their faces. 

“Amazing—congrats… babe,” Will stuttered, a thin whine spilling from his lips. “Emergency.  Bathroom.”

Mike just fucking smirked as he watched Will go.

Unfazed by the weird looks he was getting from everyone, Will stumbled to the engraved bathroom door along the balcony.  He whimpered with every step, tears beginning to leak from the corners of his eyes.  It was a miracle that he could even walk—every movement was labored as he forced one foot in front of the other. 

He loudly swung his way inside with a bang, unable to think clearly as he stared at the gilded single bathroom.  He didn’t have the forethought to lock the door as he whined and fumbled with his belt.  His fingers were suddenly useless and numb, a tingling sensation spreading its way up his arms. 

Will had only one thought: release.  There was nothing he needed more in the world than to fuck himself with the still-vibrating plug.  He couldn’t wait for Mike anymore. 

“Fuck,” he sobbed, unable to stop the tears running down his face.  At last, he unbuckled his belt with a sharp click and wrenched his pants from his body. 

He didn’t bother to remove the debauched lace panties, and instead shoved them to the side with one hand.  He spat into his other palm and quickly brought his hand down to his ass, spreading the warm liquid around his rim to act as a lubricant. 

At long fucking last, Will braced himself against the sink of the low-lit bathroom and grasped the base of the shuddering plug.  Biting his forearm to try and muffle his cries, he slowly began to fuck himself. 

He gently pulled at the toy until the widest part of it stretched him out, crying at the feeling of fullness that it gave him.  Once he adjusted to the feeling, he pushed it back inside and began a pumping rhythm.  The sound of the pulsating plug slapping against his skin filled the air, competing with the low hum of chatter right outside of the unlocked bathroom. 

“God,” he hissed, sweat slicking his hair to his skin.  He started seeing stars, release just beyond the horizon.  He was so, so fucking close.  Just a few more strokes, and the agony would be over. 

Right when the world began to shrink, the vibrating completely ceased. 

“What?  No!” Will sobbed, his eyes wide as the orgasm retreated.  Without the extra stimulation, the plug was just a regular fucking plug.

“Fuck!”

He arched his back to deepen the angle and sped up, slamming the plug into his prostate with an erratic rhythm.  He clenched his jaw, determined to finish what Mike had started. 

Knock… knock… knock…

“Just a moment!” Will called out in a thin, strained voice.  He didn’t stop for a second, instead shooting his other hand down to his painfully hard dick to begin stroking it.  It twitched underneath his palm, red and angry.  He gasped at the sensation, a tiny, disbelieving laugh escaping him. 

“You better not be taking care of yourself.”

Mike. 

Just the sound of his voice nearly made him finish.  At the same time, it was a cruel reminder that Will wasn’t being fucked by Mike’s dick.  No, instead he was left with a pale imitation and his right hand.  It was utterly cruel. 

“Fuck you, Mike,” Will seethed through the pain, throwing his head back onto his neck. 

Slowly, he saw the gold door handle twist downward. 

He didn’t care that people outside might see him.  As the door cracked open, he continued to “take care” of himself.  He watched through hazy eyes as Mike’s tall silhouette materialized and slipped through the ajar door.  Mike quickly shut it with a crisp snick, forgetting to twist the lock in his wake as he stepped towards Will. 

Will almost couldn’t see through the tears.  He stared at Mike from his position against the cool, smooth sink; Mike ran his hand through his curls, his eyebrows twitching together on his shadowed face.  Will’s ragged breaths mingled with the low gasp Mike let out as he watched him fuck himself. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Will whispered, unrelenting in his movements.  His shirt was completely soaked through with sweat, and his pants were flung into some dark corner of the tiny bathroom.  Catching a brief glimpse of himself in the ornate mirror, he saw that his hair was beginning to fray, his hazel eyes were unfocused, and his cheeks were flushed a dark red. 

A deep moan left Mike’s lips as he threw his suit coat off, sending it into a crumpled heap on the floor.  Slowly, he stalked towards Will with a predatory look in his blackened eyes.  Time seemed to slow down as Will defiantly helped himself in front of a prowling, demanding Mike.  With each step he took, with every stroke Will gave, heat simmered in his gut to an unbearable temperature.  The room smelled like the lavender shampoo Will had washed his hair with earlier mixed with the scent of sex; Mike took a deep breath through his nose, smiling wickedly at the debauched fragrance.

Mike grasped Will’s tireless arms and pinned them to either side of the sink.  A desperate whimper of protest escaped him at the sudden loss of friction, but Mike refused to relent.  How fucking cruel.

“You did so well for me, baby,” Mike murmured, his voice slightly broken as he gazed at Will’s leaking dick. “Let me take care of you now.”

Madness overtook Will, stealing all oxygen from his lungs at Mike’s promise of the ultimate reward.  Mike paused, seemingly unable to look away from Will’s fucked-out eyes and glistening, feverish body.  After a few still beats during which they could hear conversation from outside the door trickling in, he swiftly released his grip on Will’s wrists.  Will nearly cried out as Mike’s fingertips suddenly pressed into his pliant hips, flipping him around so that he was facing the sink.  Automatically, he bent over, trembling in anticipation.  He rested his cheek on the cold, gold-plated spout, unaware of the metal biting into his agitated skin.

But instead of fucking him senseless, Mike dropped to his knees.  Confusion surged though him until he felt Mike hook his fingers around the base of the plug and gently begin to pull it out.  It felt stupidly good to feel the velvety silicone slide from his body, relieving him of the prison Mike had made.  Will clenched around the toy as the widest part of the bulb stretched his rim open.  He whimpered softly while Mike let it rest there, allowing Will to adjust to the feeling; the stretch was fucking delicious.  Once his body relaxed enough, Mike completely pulled it out and let it fall to the floor.

The loss was immediate and taunting.  His ass throbbed several times as it tried desperately to grasp onto the fullness that had previously been there.  It was no use—Mike wasn’t going to let him off that easily, and he knew it.

Mike grasped onto Will and spread him open, exposing him to the chilly, motionless air of the room. 

“God, Will.  You’re… insatiable.”

As if he couldn’t resist his urges anymore, Mike dove forward and dragged his hot, firm tongue in a long strip down the center of Will’s ass over the lace panties.  It was wet, with just the right amount of pressure that he knew made Will go insane.  As Mike trailed over his sensitive rim, Will spasmed violently.  He was burning and overstimulated from the tease, unable to beg for more as his voice refused to work.  Mike continued to drag his tongue in a slow motion from top to bottom, refusing to focus on the part that Will needed the most. 

“M-Mike…” Will whined, his head falling forward into the bowl of the sink. 

As if Will’s voice was the only motivation he needed, Mike locked his burning lips around the opening and sucked.  His muscles pulsated with the sensation, desperate for more, more, more.  Will screwed his eyes shut, rolling them to the back of his head and completely blocking everything out from the dim room.  Mike’s nose pressed into him as he loudly feasted, low groans rumbling from his throat. 

But it wasn’t enough—he needed to feel Mike inside of him.  Will was incredibly desperate, begging for mercy as he let go of his iron-grip on the sink and shot down to palm at his length through the panties.  He was leaking, the wetness soaking through the lace fabric as he rubbed his hand in a dragging motion.  Before he could truly do anything, Mike quickly pulled back with a pop and yanked Will’s hand away. 

“Fuck—Mike.” Will’s voice was broken.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself.”

Mike grabbed both of Will’s arms again, twisted them carefully, and pinned them behind Will’s arched back.  Will’s muscles contracted repeatedly, his body aching to feel Mike fill him up.  After he was sure that Will was contained, Mike leaned back in and sunk his teeth around the lace fabric, swiftly ripping it off.  Will gasped at the cold whoosh of air hitting his fully exposed ass as Mike spat it onto the ground, his heartbeat pulsing rapidly in his throat as Mike dove back in. 

This time, he buried his tongue deep inside of Will with a sense of urgency.  It was silky and desperate against his smooth ring of muscles, leaving him slicked and hungry.  A raucous burst of laughter from outside the bathroom sounded through the door, but Will was so far gone that he didn’t register that he was literally in public.  He was unable to stop himself from moaning loudly as Mike fucked him with his tongue. 

Mike hummed through the movement, sending vibrations through Will that had him shivering.  His teeth grazed against Will’s prickling skin, sending a bolt of electricity up his spine.  Will’s legs were quickly turning to jelly, unable to hold him up for much longer.  He ached to touch his dick, to finally feel relief, but Mike refused to let go of him.  After several minutes of inaudible mouthing, Will finally found his voice.

“Mike.”

“Hmm?” Mike purred, not stopping. 

God, it felt so indescribably delicious—but it just wasn’t enough.  Will needed Mike in him or he was going to die. 

“I—I need…” Will trailed off, the fluttering in his chest migrating to his throat and preventing him from voicing what he frantically craved.

Mike dragged his spit-slicked face back from Will’s ass, moving as if he were fighting the world’s strongest magnetic pull.  He shifted his grip so that one of his hands was holding both of Will’s in place, and brought the other down.  He began to circle Will’s rim, pressing lightly against the sensitive flesh.  His touch was featherlight, a tease that sent waves of tingles rippling over Will’s body.  Will hissed through his teeth, arching his back subconsciously in his search for fullfilment.

Slowly, Mike pushed one finger in to the first knuckle.  Will inhaled sharply at the intrusion, unable to stop himself from throwing his body back until Mike’s finger was completely buried inside of him.  He brushed against Will’s nerves briefly, lighting them on fucking fire; his knees buckled, nearly sending him toppling to the floor as stars swam across his vision.

One finger wasn’t enough—nothing was going to be enough in comparison to Mike’s dick.  But if this was all he was going to get, then he was going to chase what he could. 

“Fuck, baby,” Mike murmured, his eyes glazed over as he allowed Will to fuck his finger. “Do you think you can take another?”

“Please, Mike,” Will whimpered, the tears unceasing. 

Mike pulled out before inserting another one, letting go of Will’s wrists with his other hand to tightly hold his hips in place.  Slowly, he began a scissoring motion; the stretch burned, teasing him with possibility.  He purposefully avoided Will’s prostate while he prepped him; it almost felt like Mike was mocking him.  Every movement pulled a whimper from Will; he was going to lose his mind if Mike didn’t fuck him within thirty seconds. 

“Mike… Mike… please—come here,” Will begged, unable to wait any longer.  He’d been ready to take Mike for a fortnight, at this point.    

Mike continued to scissor his fingers, his other hand gripping Will’s hip so hard that he was inevitably going to leave bruises. 

“Tell me what you want,” Mike demanded, his voice deep and breathy.  He leaned forward and placed a soft, featherlight kiss to Will’s tender inner thigh. 

“I want—” Will broke off into a ragged moan as Mike purposefully pressed against his nerves.  He didn’t move his fingers, and instead, continued to add pressure.  An overwhelming sense of electricity radiated from his core, tightening his muscles to the point of stinging.  Will collapsed into the sink, the white porcelain bowl the only thing holding him up. 

“Use your words, Will,” Mike commanded, massaging Will’s hip.

“I need… you,” Will croaked.  The pleasure was unforgiving, sending shockwaves throughout his body that refused to crest.

“Where do you need me?”

“Need you… inside of me.”

“Very good.”

As if all Mike needed was Will’s permission, he pulled his fingers out, placed one last kiss on Will’s ass, and quickly stood up.  Gripping Will’s waist, he flipped him around.  Will gasped at the dark, glazed look in Mike’s eyes; he’d never seemed so… hungry, before. 

“I need to see your pretty face,” Mike murmured, his thumbs brushing lightly over the clothed panes of Will’s stomach.  He shivered at the touch, ignoring the footsteps that sounded outside the door. 

“Kiss me.”

Will’s breathy plea was the last straw.  They surged towards each other and met in the middle in a crushing kiss, arms desperately roving over each other’s bodies.  Mike tasted like the sweet cream of butter, his lips soft and wet and firm and just irrevocably Mike.  They were already panting into each other’s mouths, breathless and desperate to grind their bodies together. 

Will needed Mike’s skin underneath his hands.  Without breaking the kiss, he shoved Mike against the far wall of the tiny bathroom with a loud rattle.  Hooking his fingers through the opening of Mike’s button up shirt, he carelessly ripped it open and sent the pearly buttons cascading to the floor. 

Mike groaned lowly against Will’s lips and possessively dug his fingers into his waist.  Before he knew it, Will was being lifted into the air.  He wrapped his trembling legs around Mike’s hips while Mike stumbled forward and slammed him against the door with a resounding bang!  Will whimpered in a high pitched voice as all the air left his lungs. 

“Dangerous… you’re dangerous, Will,” Mike whined into his mouth. 

He trailed a line of tingling kisses down the curve of Will’s neck, eliciting a tiny gasp with each touch.  Mike’s heady cologne invaded Will’s senses, acting as a drug that caused his eyes to flutter shut, and his head to fall back against the door.  Threading his fingers throughout Mike’s silky curls, Will tugged lightly on his hair; Mike bit the sensitive crook of his neck in response, pulling out yet another cry. 

Will Byers was nothing if he wasn’t fucking loud.

“Mike, fuck,” Will panted, staring at the intoxicating curve of Mike’s back as he nipped Will’s collarbone. “Mike, baby.”

“Yeah, Will?”

“Fuck me, already.”

Will unhooked his legs from Mike’s waist and threw him next to the sink.  Mike smirked as he crashed into the wall, watching with heavily lidded eyes while Will unhooked the buttons of his own shirt, unfastened his tie, and threw them behind him.  Slowly, Mike undid his belt with his long fingers, tantalizing as he took his time pulling it from his slacks. 

Will’s mouth watered as he watched Mike drop his pants and kick them to the side.  His previously crisp, white shirt was ripped open, exposing the trail of hair below his navel that Will went feral over.  His navy tie had been ripped loose, framing the deep red flush of his neck.  The air went thick as he unhurriedly hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of his black briefs and peeled them from his body. 

Will’s mouth went dry.

Mike’s dick slapped against his stomach as it was released from his clothing.  Will loved how fucking big it was—nothing compared.  It was already leaking from the tip, blisteringly red and so incredibly hard. 

Will surged forward and wrapped his hand around the base, sighing at the heavy weight of it in his palm.  But before he could so much as stroke it once, Mike grabbed his hands and pinned them to his sides. 

“Let me take care of you, baby.  You’ve worked so hard to be good for me.  Let me repay you.”

Will gulped, his knees buckling as Mike bit his bottom lip and slowly roved his eyes over Will’s body.  Abruptly, everything went still.  There wasn’t a single sound in the bathroom, the only noise being the low hum of chatter muffling its way through the door.  His skin prickled as Mike prowled towards him, the air frozen in his lungs. 

He directed a suddenly helpless Will towards the sink, sliding his callused hands over Will’s and placing them on the edges of the cool, smooth bowl.  He traced his fingers up Will’s arms, over his shoulders, gently down his back, and eventually came to rest on Will’s ass.  Squeezing gently, he spread him open and whistled lowly.  Glancing in the fogged-up mirror, he saw Mike lick his full lips as he stared. 

“Bend over for me, love.”

Will immediately obeyed, trembling with eagerness as he draped himself over the sink.  The time during which Mike did nothing felt like eons upon eons that left him breathless and hopeless. 

The crisp snap of a bottle cap opening echoed throughout the minute, ornate bathroom.  That sly motherfucker brought lube.  Will smiled wildly as he heard the cool, thick liquid squelching from the plastic bottle into Mike’s palm.  He could hear Mike rubbing it between his hands as he warmed it up, could hear it as he stroked it loudly down his length.  Nothing prepared him for how good it felt as Mike gripped him open and smoothed it over his ass; it was like liquid silk.

Will’s muscles went taut with anticipation as he felt Mike position himself against his entrance.  Just that alone nearly made him cum. 

“You ready, baby?”

Will just choked in response. 

Mike chuckled lowly before slowly, painstakingly pushing his tip inside.  He groaned loudly as Will gasped, pulsing around Mike while he got used to the feeling of so much fullness.  Mike waited for the solid minute it took for Will to adjust and stop squeezing around him; he kneaded Will’s clenched muscles, working the tension out with patience.  Eventually, Will couldn’t take it anymore—he needed Mike to fuck him into next week.

“You can… go further.”

Mike rolled his hips forward, easing his way inside of Will, who had been prepped so thoroughly that he was able to take Mike effortlessly.  Mike brushed against his sweet spot as he slid inside, causing Will to see stars and yell out. 

“Shh, baby.  I don’t want my publishers to hear you,” Mike whispered, massaging Will’s ass in what was meant to be a soothing manner.

Well, it’s too fucking late for that.

Mike continued to press further inside, sucking through his teeth and hissing noisily.  Will was about to tell him to just fuck him again when Mike finally, finally bottomed out.  He inhaled sharply, his legs tingling; he could feel Mike in his fucking throat.  Snaking his arm from the sink, he trailed his fingers over the bulge visible in his stomach.  Pressing lightly, he moaned at the loud gasp Mike let out over the sensation of Will from both the inside and outside. 

“Fuck, Will.  You feel so good.”

“Mike…”

Mike took the hint.  He pulled out and slowly thrust his way back in, taking his time to allow Will to truly get adjusted to the feeling.  Will was about to scream at him to go faster after a few leisurely, deep strokes when something seemed to snap inside of Mike. 

Whether he could sense Will’s impatience, or whether he couldn’t restrain himself anymore, Mike pulled out and fucking slammed into Will. 

Will cried out loudly as he banged into the mirror.  Mike began a rough, punishing rhythm, causing Will’s head to hit the glass repeatedly.  Between Will’s guttural shouts, Mike’s frantic pants, and the rattling of the mirror, they were creating a criminal uproar.  The wet slap of Mike driving relentlessly into Will mingled beautifully with everything else. 

They didn’t notice how silent it had become outside the door.

Mike shot his hand out, creating a softer barrier between Will’s head and the unforgiving mirror.  Will could smell the salt on Mike’s palm, egging him on like an aphrodisiac.  He was beyond trying to form words at this point, and was instead reduced to whimpering with every thrust.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mike’s head thrown against his back in the reflection.  The long, pale columns of his neck were exposed, giving Will the sudden desire to sink his teeth into his throat and taste his sweet flesh. 

“Shh, Will,” Mike whispered, his face twisting through the pleasure as he bucked into Will.

There was only one way to shut him up, and it was to occupy his mouth. 

Mike released his other hand from Will’s hip and traced it gently against his lips.  Slowly, he slipped his fingers inside.  Will immediately wrapped his lips around them, sucking hard as he flicked his tongue and rolled his eyes back.  Mike tasted vaguely of salt and… Will.  It was fucking intoxicating.

“Good boy,” Mike panted, his voice much closer.  He was folded over Will, both of his hands being occupied.  Will loved nothing more than when Mike praised him.  To reward him for it, he began to ram his ass backwards, slamming Mike to the hilt every time.  The angle that Mike changed to meant that he was hitting Will’s nerves with every stroke.  Unadulterated ecstasy built inside of him, hardening his dick to the point of near-agony; silky precum was leaking onto his stomach, pooling at the tip as he ached for release.

Will moaned around Mike’s fingers, significantly more muffled than he had been previously, though he was still making a lot of noise.  They moved so intensely that they nearly fell over—Mike wasn’t holding onto anything for balance anymore, instead relying purely on his stance to hold them up. 

Will shot his hand out to the towel rack, holding on for dear life as Mike developed an even more brutal pace.  It thumped against the wall with every movement, the golden screws that were holding it in place loosening rapidly with every second that passed. 

“I thought I told you to let me see your pretty face, Will,” Mike groaned lowly, pushing up from his folded position over his back. 

While keeping one hand inside Will’s mouth, Mike threaded his fingers through his ruined hair and pulled it so hard that his back arched.  The pain that erupted from his scalp was fucking addictive, spreading a tingling numbness through his neck and body.  From this angle, Mike hit Will’s nerves every single time, without fail.  Will whimpered desperately around Mike’s fingers, the delicious torment of the pressure building low in his gut nearly blinding him. 

Mike was slamming into him so hard that all of Will’s strength went towards holding onto the towel rack.  He finally glanced in the mirror and looked at Mike, whose eyes were glassy with lust.  They couldn’t look away from each other’s eyes, relishing in the fucked-out expressions on their faces.  Tears were leaking down Will’s face from sheer bliss, pooling into Mike’s palm beneath his chin.  Mike seemed nearly as speechless as Will—his mouth was parted, eyebrows drawn together.

Reaching back, Will yanked on Mike’s tie until his face was at his neck.  Mike’s hot breath caressed his skin, tickling over the shell of his ear.  He didn’t let go of the tie, commanding Mike to stay in place while he fucked him. 

Mike bit Will’s shoulder, lighting his skin on fire.  His hair grazed over Will’s face, filling his nose with the scent of their lavender shampoo. 

“See what you do to me, Will?”

At this point, the mirror was completely fogged up.  Will was so fucking close; the sensation of Mike ramming into him was transcendent.  Will pulled on the tie even harder, forcing Mike to kiss the senstitive spot behind his ear.  Mike moaned, low and desperate, his lashes fluttering against Will’s skin. 

The sink was becoming unstable, rattling against the wall with an increased vengeance.  Will tried to steady himself against the towel rack, but in the next second it ripped from the wall and fell to the floor with a damning clatter. 

They fell forward against the sink, Mike catching them against the mirror at the last second. 

“Holy shit,” Mike breathed. 

He drove into Will so powerfully that he was forced to let go of the tie.  His legs trembled, a tingling sensation shooting through them as he was brought closer to the brink.  Mike pulled on his hair to arch his back again, ruthlessly hitting Will’s nerves. 

“I’m gonna…” Will breathlessly trailed off, his body going rigid as a wave of heat pressurized in his stomach. 

“Shh, baby.  Cum for me,” Mike whispered, caressing Will’s cheek with his thumb. 

His thighs clenched as he screamed around Mike’s fingers; the world shrank to a tiny, white pinpoint.  Cum gushed out of his tightened, pulsing dick, coating the wall and floor.  He collapsed against the sink as wave after wave of pure ecstasy shattered throughout him.  Mike continued to ride Will through it, his hand moving down to his ass and squeezing it to the point of near-pain. 

Mike finally extracted his fingers from his mouth and wrapped them around Will’s throat, using them to angle Will’s jaw upward.  Without ceasing his thrusts, he leaned down and kissed the tears from Will’s face.  Finally, Mike landed on his open mouth; he gently traced the curve of Will’s bottom lips with his silky tongue, relishing audibly in the illicit taste.

At last, Will reached the end of his orgasm.  He fell against the mirror, breathing raggedly as Mike continued to thrust.  Mike nipped at his ear before whispering,

“Beautiful.  But I’m not done.”

Will was completely unable to make noise as Mike stood up and gripped his waist.  His eyes rolled back in his head, oxygen evading his lungs while Mike fucked him with delirious obsession.  He peppered ragged praise with every thrust, somehow working Will back up.

“You’re taking it so well, baby.”

Will felt heat begin to pool in his gut once again, a needy, helpless desire for this to never end entering his muddled mind.

“You feel so fucking good.”

Somehow, Will’s dick began to tighten as his blood rushed downwards.  Pure lust stirred throughout his body, filling him with an impossible, all-consuming electricity. 

“I look so fucking good inside of you.”

Will gasped for air, his dick completely hard yet again.  Mike was fucking ravenous, not stopping for one second as his hand shot out to clasp around Will’s mouth.  His palm was feverish against his skin, tasting delicious as he smiled and laughed wildly underneath it.  He couldn’t stop cackling, his mind completely gone; the only thing he could focus on was pure sexual instinct.

“Shh, my love,” Mike murmured, his head falling forward.  Beads of perspiration rolled down his neck and traced down the panes of his pale, toned stomach.  Will could feel the moisture dripping onto his back, mingling with his own sweat. 

The air smelled absolutely debaucherous.  Will was already close to cumming a second time, his body weary and unable to put up a fight against Mike’s aching rhythm.  The wet slap of Mike slamming to the hilt echoed throughout the room—it was too loud to hear the twisting of the gilded door handle. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open.  Their posh waiter from before spoke before glancing inside. 

“Is everything alri—excuse me?  What are you—”

“Fuck off!” Will screamed, wrenching Mike’s hand away from his face to glare at the dark-haired waiter.  His face was the picture of pure, unadulterated shock.  Mike didn’t cease his movements, pumping relentlessly as the intruder froze and stared at the filthy scene before him.  Will could see fancily-clad patrons in the back craning their necks, desperate to get a look at what had interrupted their dinners. 

“He told you to fuck off,” Mike growled, his eyes flashing. “So, fuck off.”

The waiter stuttered in place, his brain short-circuiting before he finally turned the lock and quickly slipped from the entrance, shutting the door behind him.  Mike moved his hand away from Will’s mouth. 

“No point in trying to be quiet now, baby,” Mike whimpered, his stomach muscles tightening and pulsing as he arched Will’s back yet again.  He purposefully angled himself so that his dick was constantly gliding against Will’s overstimulated sweet spot. 

With Mike’s permission, Will finally let go.  He didn’t give a fuck if they were heard anymore—he could guarantee that everyone within a five-mile radius knew exactly what they were getting up to.  Mike seemed to fully lose himself, as well. 

Reaching forward, Mike used one hand to flick Will’s taut nipples.  Will choked at the stimulation; the feeling shot straight down to his dick, which began to leak precum again.  With his other hand, Mike wrapped it around Will’s hard length and started stroking it in rhythm with his ruthless thrusts. 

Will cried out as Mike’s hand twisted around his weeping tip.  He gathered the liquid to use as lube, stroking down the shaft and twisting up again.  He could feel his dick tightening from the base, could feel his stomach pulsing with the beginnings of an all-consuming climax.  It was too fucking much—Will’s body was too weak to hold on. 

“C’mon, Will—I know you’re almost there,” Mike whispered against his ear, his voice sending shivers down Will’s arched spine. 

Somehow, this orgasm was more powerful than the first one.  Will couldn’t vocalize anything—he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, could hardly fucking stand as his body throbbed and pulsed around Mike.  Cum poured out of him in thick, pearly ropes, trailing down his leg and dripping onto the floor.  Mike gasped as Will spasmed and went red from lack of oxygen, continuing to milk him through it with his relentless hand. 

Will’s vision literally went black, spots of light floating to the forefront of his eyes as he finally managed to gasp for air.  Eventually, he shuddered to the end of his orgasm, whimpering against the sweat-slicked porcelain sink as Mike neared his own peak.  He knew that Mike was almost done by the way his thrusts had become less rhythmic and more instinctual. 

“Fuck, Will—I’m gonna—”

Mike cried out and slammed to the hilt one last time, gripping onto Will’s ass with all his strength as he came.  The hot cum released forcefully against his prostate, shooting inside and endlessly filling him up; it was so powerful that Will had a dry fucking orgasm.  He convulsed in place as wave after wave after fucking wave of painful bliss ruptured throughout him.  Yet again, he couldn’t inhale or move or talk, except for the occasional breathy “Mike.”

Mike was a whiny mess behind him, twitching in place as he rode through his own explosive orgasm.  Will knew that the pulsing of his own was prolonging Mike’s, which made him feel drunk with power.  He stopped before Mike did, his quivering body unable to sustain his climax for very long.  Will vaguely smirked at the tiny, high-pitched sounds Mike was making.  His legs were melting into a pile of goo on the floor, no longer able to hold him up.  Eventually, Mike trembled to a stop and fell on top of Will with a shuddering gasp. 

They laid there and spasmed against the sagging, groaning sink.  Will could feel Mike’s cum leaking from him, somehow finding its way out around his cock.  They both panted erratically, their breaths mingling in the foggy air. 

Will had never been more fucked out in his entire life. 

After a few minutes during which they both eventually caught their breath, Mike gently turned Will’s face and captured his red, bruised lips in a slow, worshipful kiss.  Will sighed contentedly and melted into it, his heart swelling and flooding his chest with warmth.  Mike caressed his fingertips over Will’s cheekbones, smoothed them over his brows, and tucked his sweaty hair behind his ears.  His eyes flicked lazily between Will’s, taking a moment to absorb everything.

Will smiled and giggled lightly, scrunching his nose up at how gentle Mike was being in comparison to the absolute depravity of ten minutes prior.  Mike chuckled back, his pupils completely dilated as he gazed at his gleeful boyfriend. 

A couple more minutes passed by before Will realized that they’d actually have to walk back into the restaurant in order to leave.  What was more was that he could hardly stand, let alone walk.  He groaned loudly, screwing his face up as he rubbed his shaking hand over his eyes. 

“I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” Mike murmured, peppering Will’s face with a smattering of light kisses.

“No—stay for just a few more minutes,” Will whined, not ready to lose the feeling of Mike inside of him. 

“Will, baby—I gotta clean you up,” Mike said softly, pressing one last kiss to Will’s eyes. “I’m gonna pull out now.”

Slowly, Mike extricated himself from Will’s arms.  Standing up, he placed his hands on Will’s hips and gently pulled out.  Will whined at the sudden loss of fullness, feeling the cum fully leaking out of him without Mike acting as a barrier.

He nearly collapsed to the floor, his knees shaking and buckling without Mike there to hold him up.  He grasped onto the porcelain bowl for dear life, about to ask Mike to help him stand when he heard a sudden thump.  Before he could turn around, he felt Mike’s hands splay across his ass and spread him open. 

“Mike, what’re you—oh!”

Mike began to lap up all the cum that was leaking out of Will.  He dragged his tongue until it locked around Will’s rim; the flicking and warmth caused him to fully collapse.  Mike barely caught him before he fell to the floor. 

“M-Mike, too—too sensitive,” Will blubbered, weakly swatting at Mike’s head. 

“I’m almost done.  I have to clean you up,” Mike gently explained, moving Will back to the sink. “You’re nearly clean.”

Will let out a strangled moan in response, breathing rapidly through his nose as Mike finished licking the cum from his skin.  Mike tried his best to avoid Will’s raw entrance, but he had to go over it once at the end.  Will gasped loudly, a couple of final tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as Mike sucked the last of the cum from around his rim.

“Let me help you get dressed,” Mike murmured, propping Will up with one hand while he rooted around the gold-tiled floor for his pants. “I think the panties are a lost cause.”

Mike held up the ravaged black lace and waggled his eyebrows at Will.  He rolled his eyes and shook his head in response, groaning into his hands yet again. 

“Commando it is, I guess,” Will mumbled, turning on the cold water to splash his face. 

The air smelled distinctly like the two of them.  There was a tiny window; even if they cracked it open, it wouldn’t be enough to air out the scent of sex.  It was a lost cause—Will was not looking forward to the walk of shame out of the restaurant. 

As Mike eased Will into his black slacks—that were fucking rented—Will had a very brief moment of panic. 

“Oh, my God—oh, my fucking God, Mike.  The waiter—the publishers!  Holy shit.  What did we just do?”

“Shh, baby,” Mike laughed, pulling the slacks up around Will’s bruised waist. “I already signed the contract.  It’s legally binding.  Besides—they love me too much.  As for the waiter, well… that’s, uh—that’s gonna be a little different.”

Will sighed as he thought about the look on the poor waiter’s face.  That was definitely something he’d never seen before. 

Mike zipped his fly with a crisp zzzt, buttoned his pants, and looped his leather belt around his hips.  Looking up at Will from his kneeling position on the floor, Mike asked, “Can you walk?”

“Let me try.”

Will made it all of two steps before his knees gave out.  Yet again, Mike caught him before he could hit the floor.  He walked him over to the toilet, shut the lid with a loud clatter, and gingerly rested Will on top.  He winced at the soreness in his ass as he sat on the cool ceramic lid—the temperature was vaguely soothing, at least. 

He held his arms out for Mike to slide his crumpled white button-up on, waiting patiently as Mike attentively fastened a few buttons.  There was no point in making himself presentable—everyone knew what they’d been up to.  Some people even saw them. 

That goddamn waiter.

“I can’t believe you forgot to lock the door,” Will griped as Mike slid his patent leather shoes back onto his feet and tied the laces. “That waiter is going to have to get therapy.”

“Yeah, I, uh…” Mike trailed off, scratching the back of his head as he stood up to dress himself. “I have no excuse.  That man is going to be walking away with the biggest tip of his life tonight.”

Laughter bubbled inside of Will’s chest until it burst out of him.  He doubled over, panting and wheezing through the slight pain as he cackled wildly.  Mike stared at him warily while he finished tying up his own shoelaces and fumbled with his ruined shirt; Will had ripped off every single button. 

“Oh, my God, Mike,” Will crowed, gasping for air. “That was—the best sex… we’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?” Mike smirked, joining in on the laughter.  His caramel-colored eyes scrunched playfully as he slung his suit-coat across his broad shoulders.

“I came—”

“Three times, to be exact,” Mike grinned, proudly holding three fingers in the air like the fucking chump that he was.  Will playfully rolled his eyes and swatted at Mike, who swiftly dodged him. 

Mike quickly cleaned up any… bodily fluids from the floor, making sure that every inch of the surfaces was free of any debauchery.  He picked up the broken towel rack and groaned before placing it back on the floor—there was nothing he could do about it.  He started to walk towards Will before he remembered the errant butt plug.  Swiping his hand to the ground, he swiftly pocketed it and patted his pants. 

“Alright,” Mike announced, staring mournfully at his bare torso. “I’m gonna carry you.”

Will opened his mouth to argue, but quickly realized that it had to happen that way.  He physically could not even stand—he was going to be bedridden for at least a week.  He felt suddenly shy as he sat on the toilet, waiting for Mike to pick him up. 

Mike came over and scooped him up as if he were the lightest thing in the world; he was being carried bridal-style, a fact that made him ridiculously giddy.  He wrapped his arms around Mike’s neck and planted a kiss on his shaven cheek, causing Mike to blush furiously.  After six years together, they still made each other nervous. 

“Hey, Mike?”

“Yeah?” Mike asked, his hand resting on the door handle. 

“I love you.”

Mike’s features immediately melted, his eyes reduced to slits from the sheer enormity of his smile.  Will could feel Mike’s heartbeat pick up against his own chest, could feel it match the cadence of his own pulse. 

“I love you, too,” Mike softly murmured, his pupils somehow dilating even further.

Will sighed when the moment passed, feeling extremely self-conscious about what they were going to look like when they stepped out.  Glancing in the mirror, he saw that his hair was disheveled, his cheeks were a flaming red, his clothes were rumpled and torn, and there was a very distinct bite mark on his shoulder.  Mike wasn’t looking much better either, with his curls in a frizzed halo above his head. 

“Okay, we gotta go,” Mike chuckled. “Or they’re gonna call the cops on us.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

“I mean, I can do it again, if you really—”

“Mike.”

“Okay, okay!” They laughed into each other’s faces; Will could feel Mike’s body rumbling against his. “Let’s go.”

Mike opened the door very, very slowly.  In Will’s opinion, that made it ten times worse.  He wanted nothing more than the bolt to the edge of the balcony and soar off into the sky like Batman.  Unfortunately, he didn’t have his powers anymore, so public humiliation it was.

The sky had dimmed significantly since Will had last been outside.  It was now a dusty ombre of lilac and indigo, with a beautiful, silvery crescent moon hung amid a smattering of twinkling stars.  Will tried desperately to focus on this, but he quickly noticed how hushed the balcony was. 

Looking around, he saw that nearly everyone was staring at them with slackened jaws.  Mike shifted his grip on Will and tugged him closer to his body as he began the trek towards the stairs.  No one said a single word, but the silence was loud enough: they all knew what they were doing.

Will immediately spotted Isabel and Richard, whose eyes were bulging out of their sockets in unadulterated shock.  Will wanted to promptly kill himself.

Unfortunately, they had to walk past the table in order to reach the ornate staircase.  Will tightened his arms, pulling himself into Mike’s neck as embarrassment crashed over him.  But honestly… he didn’t regret it.  He’d never came so hard in his entire life. 

“Richard, Isabel.” Mike nodded at them, plastering a neutral expression of respect onto his unruly face.  They blinked in slow succession, gawping at the ridiculous display.  Mike continued to walk past them. “I’ll see you Monday.”

Oh, my fucking God.

“That’s bold of you,” Will whispered, trying to make himself as small as possible.  It was a feat considering Will had put on at least fifteen pounds of muscle since high school.  

“Power of assumption, Will,” Mike murmured, keeping his gaze ahead of him as he rounded the stairs. “You gotta manipulate them into thinking they’re imagining things.”

“That’s highly unethical.”

“That’s why you work for a nonprofit, and I don’t.  It’s all about balance,” Mike responded cheekily, a smirk pulling at his features. “We’re literally perfect together.  Imagine us as parents: I’m Bad Cop and you’re Good Cop.  It was written in the fucking stars, Will.”

“Jesus Christ, Mike.  I thought the man I loved had morals,” Will giggled, poking at his chest playfully.  The staircase felt much longer than when they’d climbed it over an hour ago.  This time, he was able to admire the delicately-framed paintings adorning the papered walls.  He had the vague thought that he was a better artist than the ones the restaurant cared to display. “Who knew you were such an evil, conniving villain?”

“I’m a Wheeler, baby.  It’s in my DNA.”

Will snorted at that.  Ted Wheeler was the most soulless, bland man Will had ever encountered—there wasn’t a lick of villainy in him.  Come to think of it, there wasn’t anything interesting about him except for his weirdly erotic relationship with his armchair.  Nancy, Mike, and Holly got everything good about them from Karen, who wasn’t genetically a Wheeler. 

Mike paused at the bottom of the staircase, taking brief refuge in the hidden alcove so that he could readjust Will’s weight in his arms.  Maybe they could pass it off here as Will sustaining an injury—maybe the downstairs customers hadn’t heard their… activity.

“Ready?” Mike asked, glancing down at Will.  He quirked his eyebrows together in question, waiting for Will to give the go-ahead.

“It’s either that or kill myself,” Will mumbled, tightening his arms around Mike’s neck. 

Mike snorted softly before taking a deep breath and entering the dining area.  The string quartet from before continued to play their serene melodies as they weaved their way in between tables laden with stupidly tiny portions.  They managed to pass approximately one person before everyone began staring at them.  And, fair enough—Mike’s nipples were literally out.

This must be our karma.

Ah, there he was—the waiter.  He was standing in the corner, looking shellshocked and slightly… curious?  Either way, he was stock-still, with his eyes and mouth wide open while Mike trekked the walk of shame to the front.  That bitch would not stop staring. 

Will couldn’t take it anymore.  Between the waiter, the rest of the staff, and all the customers, he had never felt more self-aware in his entire life.  He quickly nuzzled his face into the crook of Mike’s neck in embarrassment, inhaling his lavender and musk scent to soothe himself. 

Mike stopped at the front, much to Will’s dismay.  He reached into his pocket, pulled out a massive wad of cash, handed it to the waiter, and said, “Sorry about the mess.”

There was no response.

At long, long last, they finally reached the front door.  The doorman opened it for them, no doubt staring with a massive amount of confusion on his face.  The second they stepped into the street, Will inhaled a deep breath of crisp, autumn air, relieved to be free of the restaurant they had just defiled. 

After a lengthy pause, Mike wryly said, “Well, we definitely can’t go there again.”

“Shut up, Mike,” Will groaned, rolling his eyes and attempting to disappear into the ether.  His efforts were unfortunately in vain—he was still existing on the streets of New York City, very much in the flesh.  Oh, well.

At the same time… Will didn’t regret anything.  He’d had the greatest sex of his life with the love of his life.  Mike had achieved his professional dreams, and was doting on him like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing.  He had also come out to his publishers and decided to live loudly with Will rather than hide who he was—despite the danger.  At the end of the day, life was good.  It was more than good—it was the stuff of his wildest fantasies.  Will Byers never thought he deserved anything as precious as this, and yet… here he was.

Mike somehow managed to flag down a taxi, and rushed toward the curb while managing to hold Will safely with one arm.  The yellow cab swiftly pulled over, narrowly avoiding a gaggle of angry pedestrians that were attempting to jaywalk.  Mike opened the door with a soft click and entered after some jerky maneuvering.  To be fair, he was still carrying Will.  He didn’t seem to consider putting him down for one second.

Once they were safely situated in the back, Will attempted to move into his own seat.  Mike possessively clutched his arms around his waist and back, shaking his head slowly. 

“Not so fast,” he teased, winking down at Will.

Instead of rolling his eyes, Will gently cupped Mike’s face and dusted a light kiss on his cheek.  At this point, people had seen them fucking—how bad could it be if their squat chauffeur saw them kiss?

“This time, you’re going to pay whatever bill they give us.  Capiche?” Will chastised, still cringing at the memory of Mike getting into a screaming match with their previous driver.

“Ugh.  If you insist.”

“I most definitely insist.”

“Alright—but only because I love you, okay?” Mike said warningly, raising one eyebrow as he poked Will in the stomach.

Will captured Mike’s lips in a gentle kiss, his eyes fluttering shut.  He wrapped his arms tightly around his neck, and pulled him down until Mike was fully cradling him.  His heart was so full, it was a miracle it hadn’t just exploded.  When they broke apart, Mike rested his forehead against Will’s and smiled contentedly.

“I love you, too, Mike.”