Switch Hitter

by pinkcash

Summary:

“So what else is there?”

“What?”

Mike paused and shifted uncomfortably, like his legs were falling asleep or something. He squeezed at his own calf. “That guys do, that makes them gay.”

“I—hah—I don’t know, Mike, like, suck each other off? Probably?” Fall in love, he avoided saying.

“Do you wanna do that?”

Will raised his brows. “To each other?”

 

(OR: part two of Fence Sitter wherein after their one-off sexual encounter, Mike and Will continue to trip over their feelings and desires until everyone is confused, but at least they get off)

Chapter 1

Notes:

aaaand the gay panic continues

Welcome to part two of Fence Sitter! pls leave notes and encouragement and also read the first one u nutter

 

 

Mike was right. Nothing ever did go back to the way it was before.

They continued seeing each other, of course, but it was different.

For one thing, they weren't doing anything sexual. Not because Will didn't want to—he definitely did—but because he knew that it would only complicate matters further.

He wanted to stay close friends. Best friends. 

He wanted to talk about what had happened.

He wanted to make sure that Mike understood that he loved him, and that he would always love him, no matter what.

He wanted to hang out, watch movies, eat dinner, fuck, whatever.

He wanted to be friends.

He wanted to talk about what happened.

But they didn’t. 

Over huge slices of New York style pizza the two of them talked about everything and nothing. The only thing they hadn't discussed was what they’d done. And how Mike had admitted that he liked both boys and girls. Both boys and girls. Boys. A boy— the thing Will was. 

He wanted to talk about it.

The pizza was good. They picked up a crate of Arizona tea at the store. They hung out a bit after, too. But they didn’t— wouldn’t— talk about it. Maybe not ever.

 

Now that it was nearing the end of the school year and SAT signups were popping off, Will had started studying. He was in his room, curled up on the end of the bed like a cat and pouring over his textbook study guide when Mike half-knocked on the frame of his door.

“Hey!”

“Hey, man,” Mike said and smiled. He tossed his bag down onto the floor.

“Thought your mom wanted you home for dinner, that’s why you couldn’t stop by,” Will said, just excited to see him. 

Mike dropped himself onto the bed and relaxed with a sigh. “Yeah well, fuck it. Just gonna hang here for a bit and then head over before she’s done. Dad won’t get home for a while anyway.”

Will smiled at him.

“Ew,” Mike said and pointed at Will’s study book. Will laughed. 

“Aren’t you taking yours?”

Mike shook his head and stretched out on the bed next to him, legs long and arms behind his head. “I’m thinking of taking it over the summer.”

“What, after you’ve forgotten everything?”

“Dude—it’s like a vault up here.” He brought an arm down and tapped the side of his head.

Sure about that? I can name one thing you've forgotten.

Will swallowed. He shook his head and looked down. 

“But nah, I just don’t wanna stress about it and school at the same time.” Mike smiled. “Plus if you take it first you can tell me what’s on it.”

Will shook his head. “That’s… not how it works. And I wouldn’t do that.” He rolled his eyes.

“That’s because you’re a square,” Mike said, followed by a loud sigh. Will looked at him.

A square has straight lines.

“A very squiggly square,” he corrected, and Mike actually laughed. 

Were they acknowledging it? Maybe he didn’t get the joke.

Mike got quiet.

After awhile, Will didn’t mind. It was just nice to have Mike near him. His bedroom window was open and it felt balmy outside. He could hear birds and his own calm breaths, fist tucked up under his chin as he read. 

“Hey, man, I was thinking,” Mike said after a considerable silence and Will had gone back to memorizing quadratic equations. “About what I said the other day.”

Will looked up at him, expression cold. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good. “Yeah,” he responded slowly. 

“Maybe I don’t like both. Like. Maybe I just liked how it felt. Because everyone likes getting a handjob, right?”

He suddenly couldn’t hear the birds anymore.

Will sighed. He dropped his hand down on the page of his textbook with a thunk. “Right. Yeah. I guess,” he said, blinking slow. 

I mean, jerking off two cocks side by side and dry humping like idiots wasn’t EXACTLY like getting a handjob, but alright.

“So it was probably just that. Because… I mean, I REALLY like El. And I think about like…”

Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.

“fucking her, like all the time.”

“Yeah.”

“Like all the time.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“And I just don’t feel that way about… anyone else, really?”

Will groaned, resisting the urge to shove his fingers up into his eye sockets, maybe far enough to scratch his brain that Mike made itch on a daily fucking basis.

Five minutes of peace, that’s all he’d gotten.

“Maybe you’re just a good boyfriend,” he said, rolling his eyes behind his eyelids before opening them to look at Mike pointedly.

“Ex boyfriend,” Mike corrected.

Will paused. “Sure.”

“I just haven’t thought about doing that with dudes, really—“

“Okay, Mike, I get it. Really. You don’t have to like… check in with me. I don't really care what you are. It’s just- we’re friends. You’re my best friend, it doesn’t matter.” Will shook his head in exasperation and looked away from Mike, hoping the subject was dropped. It was hard enough dealing with his erotic whiplash, he didn’t need a play by play to alert him every time his chances increased or decreased.

His heart was fucking pounding so hard it hurt.

“Yeah, no, I was just talking about it. I mean. Just speculating. Theorizing,” Mike said a bit distractedly.

“Okay then, theorize away,” Will said, feeling like it hardly mattered.

Mike shifted. He sat up and crossed his legs under him, leaning forward to Will like he was about to spout some elite hypothesis.

“Okay. You said, like— that you knew you were… y’know, because you just never started liking girls?” 

“Yeah.”

“So when did you start liking guys?” Mike paused. “Do you, like guys?”

“I… yeah, Mike, I like guys. That’s kind of what the word means,” Will said. He had scoffed like the question was stupid before it registered that he hadn’t actually said the word in question at all. 

Gay. 

Now he knew what it was Mike had actually been asking. All he’d ever said explicitly was that he never felt attracted to a girl, not that he had any eye-opening realizations of being attracted to guys instead. In fact he’d never said he was attracted to guys at all. He just said he wasn’t attracted to girls. And now Mike was looking at him uncomfortably, nervous and confused, like he didn’t want to step on his toes, and Will’s gaze softened, feeling like he may have been a dick about this after all. He’d never even called himself gay, and now he was annoyed with Mike’s use of pussy footing euphemisms like ‘you know’? Will had been ‘you know’ing his whole fucking life. 

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “Sorry— um. I guess. I guess looking back on it, the whole time too.”

“Really?”

Will breathed. He didn’t meet Mike’s eyes. There was too much behind them. “Yeah. Like, as kids, I just felt like I loved you guys way more than you loved me. I mean, I was obsessed with you. I used to think it was because I wanted to be you. Like maybe I was just insecure. When I got a little older I realized it was because I…”

“Because what?” Mike was quick to prompt him, like he was hearing an interesting story and was dying to know what came next.

“Because maybe I wanted to be with you.” Will paused and looked at him, then looked away. “Or maybe I still just want to be you, I don’t really know.”

Mike was frozen.

“Sorry. Not really being helpful,” Will said.

“But why would you want to be me?” Mike asked.

Will laughed. “Because you’re hot,” (goddamn if that wasn’t a giveaway that he’d listed it first) “and sure of yourself, and talented, and brave, and kind and—“

“Will, dude, I’m not sure of myself. Are you high? I’m regular. I’m just like you.”

“Yeah, with a superhero girlfriend,” Will responded quickly. 

“Okay—and, and you’re talented too—the drawing?”

“Stop.”

“And besides, she dumped me. Because I’m an idiot,” Mike continued and Will looked up at him, shaking his head.

“No you’re not and no she didn’t. She’ll probably get back together with you in like point five seconds,” he said. 

“It’s been like… over two million seconds.”

Actually, that math was sound.

“What’s the point of this conversation again?” Will snapped. “You wanted to know what makes me gay?” Mike flinched when he finally said the word and Will felt his heart sink.

Mike nodded. “Yeah. I just don’t get it. Like what exactly makes you gay.”

They both thought about it.

Mike continued. “Because everyone knows it feels good, you know, when someone does it to you, and doing it to someone else just feels like doing it to yourself just, you know, from a different angle.”

“I guess so,” Will muttered, confused. “Wait, are you talking about jerking off? Or getting jerked off by a guy? Like what we di—“

Mike coughed loudly to cover up the rest of the sentence. Will blinked rapidly at him and then narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah—like—getting turned on from that. You obviously were, and I was…you know. How do you know you’re really into that kind of stuff or if it just felt good?”

“There are other reasons I think I’m gay, Mike, I didn’t just have a revelation down there with your—“ he stopped before Mike could stop him. It got quiet.

“So what else is there?”

“What?”

Mike paused and shifted uncomfortably, like his legs were falling asleep or something. He squeezed at his own calf. “That guys do, that makes them gay.”

“I—hah— I don’t know, Mike, like, suck each other off? Probably?” Fall in love, he avoided saying.

“Do you wanna do that?”

“I… I don’t know,” Will said with a laugh and a shrug. He knew the fucking answer but he wasn’t going to just say it. He wasn’t going to discuss sucking cock with Mike fucking Wheeler.

“You should do it. We should do it,” Mike said after a long pause.

Will raised his brows. “To each other?”

Mike gave him a duh sort of look.

“Yeah, because sucking dick definitely doesn’t feel like doing it to yourself so that’s, that’s pretty gay. That’s how we’ll be able to tell.”

Will was one improper fraction away from laughing at him.

“Mike, are you trying to figure out if you’re gay?”

“No. I’m not. I know I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out if you are. You know, help you, or whatever.”

“Mike, I already know I’m-“

Will suddenly stopped. He looked at Mike’s perfect face and the freckles he could just barely see in the sunlight. His eyes were so dark. So, so brown but they almost looked amber in the sun. 

“Okay. Okay, yeah. It is helping. I guess.”

Mike smiled sort of dopishly. He relaxed a bit.

“And maybe I won't, like, maybe I don’t need to, but you could…”

Will finally laughed.

“Mike, are you asking me for a blowjob?”

Mike dropped his jaw dramatically like he was offended. “No,” he scoffed. “Yeah.”

“What, for science?”

Mike laughed. “Yeah, for science.”

Will shook his head. “Okay. Maybe. I don’t know.”

God, yes.

“Not… not now, obviously, just, you know, whenever,” Mike reassured him, lifting up his hands unassumingly as if it’d take the pressure off. Will could not stop his chuckle of disbelief. Mike was nothing if not bold.

How truly brave of him.

“You’re an idiot,” he said and laughed. Mike sat up straight and threw his shoulders up in a jestful shrug.

“You’re an idiot, dude! I’m a martyr!”

They both laughed. Will shoved him roughly in the shoulder and Mike giggled.

“Get out of my rooom, let me study!” Will griped playfully. He pushed him with his foot until he was stumbling off the bed.

“Okay!” Mike relented, laughing. He stood up and grabbed his bag off the floor.

“See you, dude,” he said with a chuckle, and Will smiled for at least 20 minutes after he left.

—

It was a couple days later, after the weekend, that Will saw Mike again. He’d taken the test on Saturday and waited for Mike to call. It wasn’t until that following Monday that he stopped by after school. 

“Hey man, how was it,” Mike asked, bag slung over his shoulder when he walked into Will’s room.

“It was… it was alright,” Will replied, sitting up and coiling himself into a sitting position so Mike could sit down. He threw his backpack down and did.

“Ballpark, how do you think you did?” Mike asked.

“1400-1500?”

“That’s awesome, man. Sounds like you killed it.” He punched him in the knee. 

“We’ll see.” Will smiled.

“Any advice?”

“Um. Read the dictionary? Some of those words in the vocabulary part are… deleterious,” Will said. 

“What?” Mike furrowed his brows.

“Um. Harmful. Like… bad for your health,” Will explained.

“Oh, like—deleterious—like—needs to be deleted. “

Will laughed. “So bad it needs to be deleted, yes.”

“Gotcha,” Mike said.

Will shook his head and tried to purse his lips out of the genuine smile that had overcome him. Mike made him smile. The little shit he said. 

“Hey um—by the way, I’m sorry for what I was saying, you know, about the whole... all that stuff. I was just being weird. Still taking it all in I guess,” Mike said, looking at his hands. He picked a hangnail. “I don’t think I know anyone who’s… gay.” 

“You’ve known me since kindergarten. That’s like 10 years,” Will said.

“Right, yeah. Guess you passed the math section too.”

Will smirked and looked down.

“I mean, you’re really that sure?” Mike asked after awhile.

“Is it possible you’re making me question it now just because you’ve asked me so many times?” 

He’d said it in jest but Mike looked back down to his ragged thumbnail. He picked at it some more.

“I know, sorry. Sorry,” he said. 

Will shrugged, trying to be light-hearted. “Don’t have to suck your dick to know.” 

Or for you to know, he wanted to say but didn’t.

“I know.”

Will watched him. He was mostly in the center of the bed, stretched out, with Will still sitting at the foot. Just like they’d been the other day. Mike clunked his head back against the beige-colored wall, eyes downturned in thought, and Will sighed. 

He thought about it. He thought about how eager Mike seemed, and how much he wanted to give in to his request. There was no reason he shouldn’t, should he? And no reason he should… shouldn’t he.

Will chewed his lip. He watched Mike.

“Here,” he said, and Mike looked up. 

“What,” he replied quickly and Will unfolded himself from sitting position to get up on his knees and tug at Mike’s legs to get him to lie flat.

“God,” Mike muttered, a bit jarred, maybe even annoyed by the sudden manhandling. He repositioned himself and stared up at Will with furrowed brows.

Will’s eyes had sort of glazed over, like they had been when he was studying the night before. Calculating, theorizing.

He threw a leg over Mike’s waist and sat down against his hips. Mike immediately raised his hands up, breath hitching nervously. 

“What are we doing,” he asked cautiously and Will barely even glanced up as he settled down on him. Mike didn’t stop him. He just made a little squeak as Will adjusted, his shorts running high up on his thighs. 

“I wanna see something,” Will said. He sat back against Mike, until the curve of his hips were digging into the back of Will’s thighs. He made another nervous noise and Will looked at him, face contemplating and serious. He put a hand on Mike’s chest. He moved his hips. 

Mike’s breath got instantly rapid. He swallowed spit loudly and Will rotated his hips in order to find the thick, warm mound of his crotch and rub himself over it. Mike blinked dumbly and a sound broke in his throat. Will rocked forward then and Mike grabbed his hips, arms tense and rigid. His eyes were searching and his face was getting pink. Will smiled. 

“You know,” Will said slowly. He leaned forward and propped an arm beside Mike’s head. He rolled forward and looked his friend in the eyes.

“I want to suck your cock. I already know I do.” Mike made another breathless squeak. His fingers twitched. 

“I wanna put my mouth on it. And I think about it all—the time—“

He’d punctuated with one, then another more aggressive slide of his hips and Mike was throbbing. He’d gotten hard pretty much immediately. Like dumb, stupid hard. But maybe just from the physical contact. Will got hard from a good breeze now and then. So just to be sure, Will continued. He leaned closer and dragged himself over Mike’s erection. God, his eyes were wide as saucers. He looked at Mike’s lips and they were already hot pink in color. Magenta. 

Will moved again, harder, a bit faster, and Mike’s hips jumped up to grind back. Will shook his head. He sat down hard in Mike’s lap to pin him to the bed and smiled when he didn’t try to move again. Mike moved his hands away slowly, holding them up.

Will smirked.

“You’d let me do anything,” he whispered. 

Mike’s hands were back. Not pulling or pushing, not even guiding, just holding. Holding on while Will fucked over the stiff part in his pants. Mike’s eyes were fluttering. He was nodding his head.

“You’d let me ride you.” Mike dropped his head back to the pillow and gasped around several breaths.

“Yeah.”

He’d said it quietly, whimpered it, so Will bucked himself forward and then back to make him pick up volume. Mike moaned, legs starting to shake. 

Will quit the tentative motions. He’d been rolling his hips with no particular consistency, just trying to build and elicit reaction. But once Mike said that yes… that little tiny secret whispered yes — Will began to ride him. He shifted forward and back rhythmically, rolling over and over Mike’s very hard dick, and he began to pick up speed. 

“Ah—ah,” Mike choked out. He held his hips with sweaty palms. He’d stopped looking up at Will and was looking instead at their lap—the conjoined space of Will’s body working over his in long strides that had his own clothed cock dragging against him on every downward pull and then grinding up into his stomach. Will was plenty hard, pretty obvious in his shorts, and it looked like Mike was admiring it.

Will sat up straight again, hips rocking much faster, riding him like a bull. Mike was bright pink in the face, stuttering breath and little broken squeaks of his voice slipping out as if he were trying to say something but simply could not.

Will had no idea his body could move like this. It felt fluid, like a rolling, tumbling wave crashing over Mike to drown him. He could come like this. He could absolutely come like this. Maybe they both could. 

Will pushed a hand into his shorts, making sure to buck sharp to get Mike’s attention on him. Mike watched him with mouth slightly ajar when Will pulled up his shirt, only a bit, just above his bellybutton and let him watch his hand work over himself in his underwear, his stomach muscles rippling and clenching with every movement overtop of him. 

Mike looked like he was in actual pain, watching. “Fuck,” he said in a gasp. He sounded squeezed of air. His hair was starting to stick to his forehead. 

Will dropped his shirt and fisted over himself a few more times before pulling his hand out of his underwear and collapsing onto two arms extended on either side of Mike’s head. He looked down at him and smiled. Mike looked worried, anticipating.

“Would you fuck my ass, Mike? Would you come in it?”

But he probably didn’t anticipate that.

Mike’s eyes pinched shut and he moaned out a very loud “oh” type sound. His dick throbbed and he was just gasping now, rather loud, sobbing out moans and breath. 

Will slid forward slightly more and rut his aching perineum down on Mike’s dick, just at the head, so the length of him was slotting and grinding up into the cleft of Will’s ass. 

“Hm?” Will asked softly. He fucked Mike’s cock between his cheeks, the acrylic of their shorts making it a dangerously easy slide. So smooth riding over him. Pressing down on him. 

“Answer me, Mike,” he said softly, sweetly. 

“Fuck—Will—fuck—yes—yes,” he said in the air left of his voice. He was dragging Will’s hips now. Muscles jumping and twitching. 

Will leaned down lower, just by his ear.

“I want you to fuck me in the ass and leave me full of come.”

“Ah—shit—ah—shit, shit!”

Mike dropped his head back and Will admired his throat. He could remember sucking that spot into it, the one right by his jaw that was only sort of yellow now. The muscles in his neck were tensed, his Adam’s apple bobbing from all the moaning. His breath was so ragged. Didn’t even sound like him. He jerked his head back up and dropped his jaw. His eyes rolled back. He dropped his head again. His toes curled so hard Will heard them pop. He arched against the pillows, closed his eyes, and came hard into the front of his shorts. 

So there. Mike Wheeler was not straight. Case closed.

Will dropped off to the side, but not before lingering long enough to feel the wet spot soak through. 

“What… fuck,” Mike groaned.

“What fuck?” Will repeated him and laughed.

“What did you just do to me?”

Will shrugged. He looked at him. They were side by side on the bed, breathing deep and full. 

His dick ached.

Mike turned his head to look at him and Will turned his attention down. In a split decision, he stuck his hand into Mike’s shorts, into his underwear and swept his fingers through his come. Then he used it to jack himself off. He pulled his shirt up to his chest. It only took two or three pulls to shoot directly up his torso, puddling obscenely in the dip of his sternum. 

Mike seized up against the mattress. He watched. He watched Will come. He glanced down at his crotch like his own dick twitched when he saw it. After a moment he lolled his head back center to breathe up at the ceiling. He shut his mouth and swallowed.

Several moments passed, just breathing.

Mike never took his eyes off the ceiling. 

“Maybe I’m gay,” he said.

Will snorted and looked at him, then looked away. 

“Mike. You’re not gay.”

Mike made a weird little breath and Will turned his head. He pulled his shirt back down. When he looked, Mike’s eyes seemed red.

“Are you crying?”

“No,” Mike said. He reached up and began to rub his eyes with both hands. “Yeah.” He pushed his fingers hard into the sockets. When he pulled his hands back and dropped them by his sides Will could see they were teary.

“Why?”

He reached up again and scrubbed at his eyes. His breath was all shaky. 

“Because. Because if I am gay that changes everything. That changes my whole life—I”

“Mike. You’re not gay. You like El—you’ve liked girls before. You could still be with a woman.”

There was such a long pause Will thought the interaction was over. He joined Mike in staring back up at the ceiling.

“But I want to be with you now,” he suddenly squeaked out.

Will snapped his head toward him. “Mike… what?”

Mike took a shuddering breath and sat up. 

“Nothing. I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face. He laughed. 

“Shit, man. You made me come so hard I factory reset or something.” Another shaky breath. “Had me thinking about a house and kids. Fuck.” He cleared his throat and turned away, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and planting his feet on the ground. 

“I’m better. I’m fine,” he said. He was wiping away actual tears with the back of his hand. “Goddamn,” he whispered. 

Eventually he turned back and laughed, shaking his head at Will. 

“That was good though, I’ve never… seen you like that.”

Will shifted up into a sitting position. “Yeah, sorry, I just. I don’t know what came over me either, that was kind of… intense.” He paused. “Sorry for making it weird. Again.”

“No. No, it's totally cool. Just… pretty unexpected. Um,” Mike tugged at the wet spot in his shorts. 

Will glanced up. “Uh, bottom drawer,” he said.

“Thanks.”

Mike stood to rummage through and find something clean to wear.

“And could you hand me a shirt?” 

Mike tossed him one and Will looked away dutifully when Mike stripped down and changed shorts. Then Mike looked away when Will changed his shirt. Will laid back on the bed. It was weird and quiet.

Mike sat back down beside him, looking at him sort of sheepishly. He looked genuinely sad. Will started to feel his chest swell up with shame—that big gay guilt for doing what he’d done. Every time. It happened every time.

“I think I’m gonna go home,” Mike said softly. His voice still didn’t sound right. Will sat up. 

“Mike,” he said solemnly. Mike wouldn’t even look at him. 

“Come on, Mike, you’re not really worried about—“

“I’m not worried I’m just,” Mike paused. “I wanna go home.”

“Mike, I’m—“ he almost stood up to follow him but forced himself to stay seated. “I’m s—did I do something wrong?”

“No, no,” Mike said a bit intensely. He picked up his bag. “Um. No—I’m just gonna go. But can I, like, call you later?”

“Of course, man, of course—anytime. I’m…” he’d started another sentence but didn’t know how to end it. 

Mike looked at him and made a tight lipped sort of half-smile, something that didn’t look at all comfortable or confident. 

“I’ll call,” he said. He waved to Will weakly before exiting the room. 

He didn’t call.

 

 

Notes:

*panics but in a gay way*

Comment or I'll cry

Chapter 2

Notes:

ya boys are bad at conversation. 😎 courtesy of yours truly

 

 

They didn’t mess around after that. They didn’t even talk about it. Whatever had happened had scared the shit out of Mike. So much so that he never brought up the whole gay thing again. But he never treated Will any differently either. It was like he’d just sort of… forgotten. Pretended it never even happened. He’d even sometimes mention girls and include him in conversation about it as if it were relevant to him, but only in front of the other boys. Will figured maybe he was just trying to keep his secret, trying to not blow his cover. Still, it seemed very strange. It felt strange, like a persistent thickness in the air. 

With a sense of objectivity, Mike wasn’t acting all that different. But sometimes when they glanced at each other for a bit too long, Will wondered if maybe he was thinking about it. Will certainly was. Screw smuggling Playgirl magazines like he had been. He had plenty of jerk off material now. There wasn’t a day that went by that Will didn’t touch himself to thoughts of him. It felt almost sick, considering protocol was to not acknowledge it. 

He was certainly acknowledging it to himself. Sometimes twice a day. 

Mike had gotten so loud underneath him. And what he said after was… weird. Really weird. Mike wasn’t even all that convinced he liked both—and then he was concerned Will had turned him gay?

That’s where the guilt came from. Will knew homosexuality wasn’t contagious, but he’d confused Mike so much he’d made him believe it was. 

So he knew better than to hope for a repeat occurrence. He needed to… fuck, he needed to leave Mike the hell alone. Or maybe Mike needed to leave HIM alone. It wasn’t like Will was always starting it. Part of him still thought Mike was fucking with him just to get off. And maybe he just felt bad afterward and that’s why he always wanted to go home or leave the room and ignore it. 

He wasn’t sure how horny Mike was normally. He’d been right, they didn’t talk about that stuff. He wasn’t even really sure how far he’d gone with El. 

Well. Actually, she would just tell him. Definitely if they’d gone all the way. But what about everything else? Were they doing something else? Was Mike used to getting off every day and now Will was sparking his fancy just because he’d found out he was gay? Gay and willing?

Was he using him? 

Will had made him come hard. Both times. It would be unlikely he wouldn’t come back for more if that’s what he was doing. Using Will as a means to an end. 

For a while Will was looking over his shoulder. He was stuck. Stuck between feeling bad and being angry at Mike. For a bit anyway, until things seemed more normal and time seemed to pass, albeit slowly.

It had been long enough now that their encounter and subsequent conversation was a far off thought, not pulsing at the front of their brains 24/7. That had been how it felt for Will anyway, just counting down the seconds until the day he could stop thinking about counting down the seconds. Loving Mike was like a catch-22, a snake eating its tail. Telling yourself not to think about the pink elephant and then thinking about the pink elephant. 

 

It was summer before it all came up again. Mike had been studying intermittently for the SAT he’d gotten scheduled for later that week. Interspersed with—and mostly instead of—studying, were long winded hang outs with their friends. Will was always there, but it was rarely the two of them alone. Every once in a while he would stay over, but everyone’s curfew had been extended an hour or two for summer and he always ended up falling asleep before anyone even left. Sometimes Will had bouts of paranoia that Mike had orchestrated it that way to keep the two of them from being alone, but that would have to mean he told the others about what happened. And he wouldn’t do that. He would never, ever do that. If he wouldn’t acknowledge it to himself when he looked in the mirror, why would he tell a friend. Or anyone. 

The night before the test he had everyone over again at the Wheeler house, drinking. What was left of the group, anyway.

Dustin was gone visiting Suzie and Max was with El. Lucas was the only other of them over and Will was still wide awake when he wrestled up from the couch to go. 

Will had looked panicked over to Mike, but Mike seemed unphased. Completely unbothered, like it wasn’t the very first thing that popped in his head, like it was Will’s, that they’d be alone.

“Peace out, dudes—see you tomorrow,” Lucas said.

And he left. Lucas left and Mike just let him leave. Will gripped the couch.

Mike stood and stretched. It sort of shocked Will how loud his lanky bones could be when they popped. He stayed there, huddled on the couch and gawking a bit until Mike turned.

“You staying over?” he asked.

Will whipped his head around. Mike was still standing and stretching, even sort of yawning. He almost spilled what was left of the beer in his hand. 

“Um, sure, I could,” Will replied. His mouth was all numb and he wasn’t sure why. Was he excited? That would be stupid.

“Cool. You can take the pullout or— I think Nancy is probably at your place actually if you wanna crash up there,” Mike said, rolling his head to one side and then the other to stretch his neck.

“No I’m fine here,” Will said, sliding his palms out over the futon cushions. They were sort of sticky under his palms but he might have been imagining it. 

“Okay… Well you’re not going to bed right now are you,” Mike said after an awkward pause. Why was he standing up again? 

“Oh—no. I mean, unless you are?” 

It was like 8 o’ clock. Mike laughed at him and smiled. “Nah, I’m just bored—was gonna see if you wanted to hang upstairs for a bit.“

“Oh, totally,” Will smiled, then laughed. He didn’t move.

Mike reached over and took a last few sips of his beer and set it down. They were cool to leave the bottles downstairs on the table. It was pretty easy to blame it on Nancy or Jonathan whenever he’d been over, and he was always happy to take the fall. Will set his own on the table as well even though he’d only drank it halfway down. He was regretting that now. Why’d he have to be such a slow fucking drinker.

Mike shifted his feet. 

“You coming up?” he asked again, his lean body tilting toward the stairway. 

Will had gone full Iceman.

“Oh. Yeah, should I… should I bring the beer?” Will asked, snapping out of it and throwing his legs out from under him to plant on the ground. What the fuck was he doing. Blowing it, that’s what.

Wait, no, don’t think about blowing.

“Yeah— carry it up in a backpack though so my parents won’t see,” Mike said and crossed the room in a few long strides. 

Will gathered up what they had left of the beer and stowed it inside his school bag. He tugged it over one shoulder and made his way up the stairs.

“Will’s spending the night!” Mike half-shouted when he passed his mom in the dining room. She probably said something but their footsteps were too loud clambering down the hallway to hear her.

Just because Mike got there first and Will was eternally weird, he knocked on Mike’s door and waited for a response before entering.

“Come on in, man,” Mike called out and laughed. The door was fucking open but, shit, Will figured maybe he’d give him time for a courtesy flush in case he had anything weird left out. Will felt momentarily embarrassed by the idea of Mike finding the things he kept under his mattress.

Will stepped into the room and Mike maneuvered around him to shut the door. Will glanced around briefly before dropping his bag next to the foot of the bed.

“What do you want to do?” Will asked, watching Mike lean against his mattress. His hair was messy and he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

He wished he had remembered to shave last night. His face prickled as he sat on the edge of Mike’s bed.

“Well, I thought we could play some video games or watch movies, maybe go down to the park and hang out?” Mike said. He motioned toward the open curtains. “We’d have to sneak out, though.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Will agreed, turning away from the window. “Or—video games, I mean. Mom doesn’t let me play much at home, so.”

Mike smiled and shrugged.

A few hours later the two boys were sitting cross-legged in front of his tv monitor each with an empty bowl of popcorn between them, watching each other take turns at Kung-Fu Master.

The first round got boring fast. Mike had always been better than Will at fighting games and Will knew it. Sure he could win sometimes with a lucky shot or skillful maneuver, but it took him forever to get anything going, to work up the courage to actually attack instead of defend. He hated getting hit.

They switched to Super Mario Bros. and played a few rounds of that together while they drank, the cord stretched tight so they could hammer at the controls while sitting on the bed. After the fourth or fifth game, Will started feeling dizzy, just like every other time he'd drunk that amount of alcohol.

But he was also feeling brave.

He was watching Mike more than the game, eventually. Watching the way his lips pulled up in a smile, and his boyish laugh. The way his eyes and nose crinkled. The freckles he’d watch fade over the years.

It was hard for them to fit on the bed together now. They’d both grown so tall. Will could remember squeezing into forts with Mike, or hiding in cabinets with knees up to their chests during hide and seek. Mike looked so much different now. Will wondered if he did too. He felt like whenever he looked in the mirror it just looked like… him. Like he’d been 5’8”, pale, and effeminate his entire life.

Well, he didn’t think he was effeminate anyway, but he’d been called so ever since he was a child.

His mom just told him it was because he had pretty eyes.

He’d thought he was normal. He couldn’t remember ever being any different. But this—this was different. Mike was different . Barely like his old self at all. The Mike stretched out beside him had long limbs and cheekbones that could cut glass. The way shadows would fall in the hollow of his cheeks. The tensing of his jaw. He looked carved from stone. Why had he grown up to look so vastly different—so beautiful and comfortable and divine and. And Will just felt like… this. Whatever this was. A child too big for his skin. 

When Will leaned forward to set his empty cup on the floor, Mike slid behind him on the bed, relaxing a bit more. He tossed down the controller after about the third time he’d accidentally yanked it out of the console by leaning back just one extra inch too far. Will felt himself go unbalanced after the weight shift on the mattress and Mike placed his hands on either side of Will's shoulders to steady him. Will lifted his chin a little so his neck was exposed to look at him.

“You okay?” Mike asked, his breath warm on Will's ear. He felt it ghosting across his neck, all the way down to his clavicles.

“Yeah, I'm great, just a little tired, that's all,” Will lied, trying to relax. His heart was beating so hard in his chest. Mike smelled like sweat and beer, which, combined with the sweet taste of the popcorn in his mouth, made Will feel giddy.

Mike let go and his shoulders felt damp from where he touched. Mike laid back down on the bed behind him and Will stared up at the tv screen.

“I’m… do I plug it back in?” Will asked.

“Put Kung-Fu back on. I wanna watch you play,” Mike said, stretching out. 

Will laughed and stood. He plugged the controller back in and pressed the power button again and replayed the last level. He kept playing, nervously. He tried not to let his concentration be broken, but when Mike put his hand on his shoulder again, Will felt like he might just fly off the bed.

Slanted upright, mostly laying down but leaning back on his elbow, Will turned to look at him. Trying, and failing, to look relaxed.

He was closer than Will expected. Mike had been laying on his stomach, cheek resting on his folded arms—except now he had one stretched out, his blunt fingertips moving from his shoulder to touch parts of Will’s hair, his neck, the collar of his t-shirt. Will shivered. He got goosebumps immediately and Mike smiled through a laugh, his eyes never leaving the path he was tracing.

Mike didn’t look at him, didn’t acknowledge Will had stopped playing. His eyes were dark. It was mostly pupils. The bridge of his nose was a bit pink. He looked sort of out of it. Will wondered if maybe he was drunk.

“Let's turn off the lights," Mike said.

"Won’t be able to see you,” Will replied quickly, and then shut his eyes in immediate regret. 

He recalibrated and nodded, pretended like he hadn’t just said that. He stood up slowly and walked around to the desk lamp near the window. He tried turning the knob twice, getting it the wrong direction both times, and then just panicked and pulled the cord out of its socket. He breathed unevenly.

“Do you like it when I look at you?" Mike asked, still speaking softly.

"Yes... I mean, yeah..." Will answered, his voice almost a whisper.

He moved back to the bed and sat on it. Mike shifted up. It felt like only moments passed and Mike's hands were on Will's waist, fingers digging in slightly. He was sitting up behind him and then cupping Will's cheeks to tilt his head back to press against his shoulder. 

Will was afraid to breathe.

"I can't stop looking at you," Mike whispered, staring into Will's eyes. 

Will felt hot all over.

Mike's lips were so close. So close they brushed Will's skin as he spoke, right along his hairline, his brow. Will could feel Mike's heat on his skin and smell his beer breath.

“So pretty,” Mike moaned. “You’re so pretty, Will.”

Will was frozen solid, through and through.

As if sensing Will's hesitation, Mike slowly backed away, leaving Will sitting there by himself, on the edge of the bed. 

He laughed, nervous.

“You’re just drunk, Mike,” he said.

“A little bit,” Mike said and smiled. “A little bit, yeah. Are you?” 

Will swallowed hard.

“Yeah, a little.”

Will’s hand left the controller. He moved himself further onto the bed until he could feel the wall behind him.

Mike moved in, his face way too close to be normal or necessary. Will almost went cross-eyed looking up at him. He tilted waywardly to the side, catching himself on one arm and propped himself up, and Mike followed him all the while. He smoothed his hands up Will’s thighs and Will jumped like a frightened cat.

The room was dark and silent except for the music playing on the loading screen. Will leaned against the wall bordering the bed, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes. He heard Mike moving towards him again, felt the warmth of his hand on his back.

"I really like you, Will," Mike whispered, his breath tickling Will's ear. "You're so fucking cute. I love how you act all shy and quiet like you don't know what to say, but you talk so much shit sometimes, I can't believe it."

Will didn't answer. He wanted to, but he couldn't speak.

"I wish I could be your boyfriend," Mike continued, his voice low and dry.

Will swallowed nervously, his throat tight. Was he blacking out? 

He shook his head once and Mike frowned.

"Why not? You make me happy when nobody else does," Mike whispered. He bit down on his lip and Will's stomach twisted with desire, his cock twitching in his jeans.

Jesus Christ. Will felt his voice start to shake, even before he used it.

“You’re drunk, Mike,” he insisted. 

Mike laughed. He paused and then pulled away. He scratched the back of his head as if anyone had ever actually itched there before, ever. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry—um,” Mike shifted toward the edge of the bed again. “Is there any more beer?” 

Oh god. Mike was getting nervous. That’s what that meant, right? What the fuck was happening? Will felt like things were going off the rails.

Mike stood up. He pulled a beer out of the bag and didn’t bother to disguise it in a cup like they had been. He twisted off the cap and chugged it, tilting his head all the way back. 

Will gulped along with him, watching his throat bob. He winced.

They didn’t speak. Just loud, loud gulping and silence. Mike set the bottle down and got back on the bed, vertical, long legs stretched out and feet hanging off the edge. 

Will put the controller down and sat up, letting his feet dangle off the edge of the bed alongside him, but Mike moved. He took his place behind him again. Will turned his head to face him, expecting him to touch, or speak, or do something. But Mike just stayed there, staring at him with those big brown eyes.

"What?" Will asked, looking between Mike and the tv, confused. They looked at each other back and forth. Why was it so dark again?

Mike touched his legs.

God damn it. Will pressed his thighs together. Trying not to get hard. Things were getting out of hand. He should've just put the game back on. He felt like he was walking through treacle.

"I promise, I won't tell anyone," Mike said, and Will started squeezing his legs tighter together.

That statement sat, just soaking in the air. Will hardly believed what he was hearing. He wanted to keep talking but he couldn't. He felt like he was being slowly swallowed by the mattress beneath him. He didn't want to feel this way anymore.

“Just let me be your boyfriend."

“Mike, stop,” Will pleaded. “You’re fucking with me.” He looked Mike seriously in the eyes, and that seemed to stop him. The smile dropped off his face momentarily, but then it was back, goofy, shaking his head. He pulled his hands away nervously.

“Yeah. Okay, man. Sorry,” he said, looking away.

“Sorry—I’ll stop. I’m just… tired.”

Will breathed shakily, his heart moving so fast it felt like an engine inside him. Why the fuck… Why the fuck would Mike say this shit? 

Mike laid down flat on the bed and then groaned, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He sighed, turned over, and for a while Will just stared at his back. The way the creases in his shirt moved with every breath.

This was just fucking weird. 

“Mike,” Will said softly, and Mike turned to him. Just his head, from over his shoulder. He kept his body turned mostly away. Will peered down at him. 

He looked almost sad. Will was starting to wonder if he’d gotten this all wrong. Was Mike fucking with him? Why would he be? He suddenly felt bad… or should he? Was he just trying to goad him into a blowjob? Because he’d said he wanted to? 

Mike looked at his lips.

“Don’t do that,” Will said.

“Don’t do what,” Mike replied. He looked back up at his eyes, earnest. 

Will felt his voice break somewhere at the back of his throat. Did he not even realize he was doing it?

Will leaned in and Mike turned a bit more. He uncurled himself and propped slowly onto his elbows, his fingers balling up so he could pick nervously at his thumbnails. He looked like a kicked puppy. A horny little kicked puppy.

Will's heart started racing. He wanted this so badly. So fucking bad. But every time they did this, Mike got further and further from being his friend. He could feel it, no matter what he said.

Will's body was responding already, he could feel the tension building within. He was afraid that once he got started he wouldn't be able to stop. He felt achy inside, like he needed to release.

“God damn it, Mike,” Will mustered. He sat forward until their faces were so close he could feel the baby hairs on Mike’s forehead. He touched the side of his face and watched how Mike tilted into it, the edge of his jaw so prominent in Will’s hand. His lips fell apart, he was pliant to the touch. He wanted to be kissed, and it was obvious.

Will considered it. He never made moves like this first. It was Mike who always got the preemptive strike.

He considered it for so long he realized he was getting dizzy from inhaling only what Mike exhaled, high on his carbon dioxide. Or maybe it was the beer, making him feel floaty.

Mike bumped his lips against him but didn’t kiss. He didn’t press, but he was very much there, and Will could feel himself opening his mouth to him. He closed gently around his lower lip and hummed, and Mike's fists slowly unfurled and reached instead to hold onto the sheets. His arms were shaking from holding himself up. He still wasn’t kissing. Neither was Will. Will held his lower lip in his mouth and pet it with his tongue. Slow licks. Mike made a broken little noise he could practically taste and Will reached up to hold his face with the other hand too. 

Was this what he wanted? 

Just a little bit of this?

Would he shut up? Stop playing around?

Will sucked gently on Mike’s lip, just the slightest bit of suction to tug blood to the surface. Mike made that sound again and Will knew he felt it. Knew he liked it.

And at this point he didn’t know who he was doing it for. He wasn’t sure if he’d just been too scared to kiss him, or if he was teasing him, or if Mike was simply waiting for more and he was waiting for Mike to take the lead but… Will released his bottom lip, wet, and drew his mouth quickly back against it. It was hotter than a thousand suns now, and pink. Much pinker than the other and glistening in the light. 

Will looked down.

Mike was hard as a fucking rock. 

He did that. He got Mike hard from a little suction on his lower lip.

That made his eyes roll back. So he kissed him for real. 

Mike reacted pretty quick, his breath already rapid as he shot one hand up to the back of Will’s neck and yanked him in. His arms and shoulders were trembling even harder now from holding himself up one handed and Will pressed down on him to get him to lay back. Mike tugged at his face with both hands until Will was leaning over him, up on his knees.

It was happening. Fuck, it was happening again.

The excitement and the fear bubbled up from its depths and Will thought he might float away, or maybe it was just the alcohol. All the beer, the suds. They’d both drank so much to try and feel comfortable and this was the result.

Mike was desperate. He was whimpering, like he’d been waiting for it all night. Will rolled his tongue into Mike’s mouth and Mike sobbed around it. Will was kicking himself for putting this off. He forgot how good it felt. He forgot the nerves glitched away and made him feel like he’d never been nervous at all, ever, in his life. 

He fucking loved kissing Mike, and he realized quickly how long it’d been since he last did. The hours and hours they spent intermittently inside each other's mouths in that basement. Their mouths fit perfectly, clicking together and then apart wetly. His lips were so soft, his tongue softer. 

Mike was a good kisser. Will realized he must have had plenty of practice with El and while Will had none, god, he could just tell. The way Mike held his cheek in one warm palm and opened his mouth exactly when he needed to. Even when Will started, Mike led. His tongue was swift and sure, and so deft moving over his. He knew when to pull off, sucking on his lips, and then push back in with renewed vigor.

Such a good kisser, and Will wondered if he’d ever need to kiss anyone else to know that for sure.

He wanted to practice more with Mike. He wanted to reward him for teaching him this, opening up and letting him lick inside. He wanted to know what other parts of him tasted like. 

His hips were lifting before Will even touched him. 

But he did. He touched him.

If asked, Will could say he didn’t even realize he’d done it at first, but something about closing his eyes and drowning in Mike’s mouth made him feel ethereal. Much more dream-like than before. And feeling safety in the fantasy, he pushed his hand down over Mike, palming where he was hard and eliciting the most choked of sounds thus far.

Or maybe it was a moan, pushed fast down Will’s throat.

Mike pulled his hands away, holding them up and away as if nervous. Maybe scared he’d get in trouble for touching Will again. And now Will felt bad for steering him off. He wanted to be touched. He wanted it all.

Will ducked even lower to kiss him, pulling forward on his knees, and tugged him with his hand, over his pants.

God. Will felt sort of out of body. Like he wanted to keep Mike in line but also wanted to explore. Mike would let him. Look at him. He’d let him touch whatever he wanted. Just like he’d said the other day.

Will touched the button of his jeans.

“Mike?” he gasped.

“Yeah?”

“Can I do something?”

“Yeah—yeah, what?”

“Can you just…”

Will sat up and Mike edged back, eventually coaxed down to the bedspread to lay flat again with his head against the pillow and Will over him. Mike looked nervous, or maybe excited.

Will palmed him over his pants again, rougher, and Mike hissed at the touch. Will looked at him with wide eyes and Mike looked back blankly. Then he lifted his hips into Will’s palm.

“Can I?”

Mike nodded and Will unbuttoned his jeans, then reached with both hands to tug them down. They’re tight so Mike wordlessly lifts himself up to push them down and off his legs. Will looked at him in his boxers, touched him a little, and then tugged at the elastic of his underwear.

“And this?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mike said quietly and helped him pull them down. His cock slapped red against his belly and he reached up a hand to cover his eyes and lean his head back. He was breathing loud.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I can—“

Mike shook his head fast underneath his hand, hair trembling and fanned out on the pillow. It was dark against the plain white casing.

“Okay.” 

He was so pretty—smooth and stiff and pink at the tip. He didn’t have a lot of hair, surprisingly. Just a bit of downy curls Will ran his fingers through, darker and coarser running up toward his belly. He hadn’t noticed that before. 

Will tugged against the hair and Mike jumped.

“Okay,” he said again and Will bent to open his lips against the underside of his cock, only breath at this point, and Mike immediately shot down both hands to grip his shoulders, a sharp gasp rising out of him.

Will didn’t say anything but kept very still. Like dealing with an unpredictable animal he was afraid of scaring away. He looked up to find Mike blinking rapidly at the ceiling and then slowly, nervously swallowing and turning his eyes to Will.

Will licked him. 

“Oh god”

“Oh fuck”

Mike put a hand to his mouth. Will licked again and Mike breathed inconsistently like he’d completely forgotten how.

“Is this oka—“

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Mike interrupted him. It sounded muffled under his hand where he’s trying to keep himself quiet.

Will waited, watched his pulse decrease, and then licked him again and listened to him moan. He watched the spike of movement right there in his neck. If he looked close he could see it there in front of him too, at either side of his hips and in the veins of his cock. 

Will continued. Nervous, curious. He liked the way Mike’s fingers bit in on his shoulder and he struggled with sounds into his own hand.

He worked on the tip, coating it with spit. Every noise invigorated him but he was still so shaky. He kept sliding in and out of reality—between doing what he thought may feel good and what he genuinely wanted to do. The kind of worship he wanted to give Mike’s cock—the most intimate, private part of him he’d never thought he’d see. His mouth was over it, kissing it as if it were his mouth. Rubbing his tongue along the underside and catching it in his mouth when Mike unintentionally throbbed, making it jump.

On a particularly hard twitch, Will caught him with his hand and circled it around him. Mike squeezed at his shoulder. 

It was nothing like he expected.

The smell of him, the taste. Maybe it was the alcohol but every bit of it felt erotic, quiet, slow, like the reverb turned up too high on a guitar. Every lick and kiss and suck lasted for ages after he did it, until Will felt like he was layering over himself and blending all into one. 

He shut his mouth fully around Mike’s prick, just the head of it, and Mike groaned so long Will knew he had to be completely out of air. 

He must’ve never had a mouth on him before. And that made him feel good.

Will smiled in spirit, his mouth full. 

He drooled. He read enough about giving head in girly magazines like Cosmopolitan to know blowjobs were supposed to be wet. Messy. He was scared to take his mouth further but he did anyway, trying not to gag, keeping his lips somewhat loose to keep the spit dripping. He moved his hand, rubbed down the saliva, and held it snug at the base.

God. He was so focused on his ministrations he’d almost forgotten they were a part of a person—the actual boy he was fantasizing while sucking his first cock. It was HIM for god's sake and he was in… disbelief. 

Will pulled his mouth back up quick to breathe, his heart in his throat. He felt like the tip of Mike’s dick might touch it. 

The moment he pulled off, sucking up spit behind him, Mike moaned so loud it made Will’s brows shoot up. 

Oh my god.

He really liked this.

Somebody probably heard that.

Will looked at him. He was completely red in the face. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his stomach concave on every inhale. He could see the dip at the bottom of his throat had collected with a light sheen of sweat. He’d be surprised if there weren’t nail impressions on his own cheek from covering his mouth so hard.

His muscles were clenching and unclenching in a consistent rhythm that told Will Mike was already desperate to come. He knew it. He’d done it himself alone in his bed, taking his hand off whenever he got close because he felt too guilty getting off to thoughts of a boy—thoughts of him.

God, he’d pictured Mike in every kind of position known to man. It didn’t even feel real peering up at him from between his legs. He quickly recalled all the facial expressions he’d already internalized from when he’d made him come in the basement, then again in better light in his bedroom, sitting on top of him. That face. That face he made when he was over the edge.

Breathless, all his marbled features gone slack except his eyes shut tight and his perfect eyebrows pulled together, and down— and then slightly up after the second or third pulse of his orgasm.

Will fucking memorized it. He could see it with his waking eyes. 

He wanted to see it again. 

He didn’t know what come tasted like. He wanted to know what come tasted like.

He was salivating. His entire body enthusiastic. It felt like a natural instinct, a bodily response, how quickly his mouth filled with spit from beneath his tongue before returning it around the head of his cock. He shoved himself down and Mike jumped hard against his hand and in his mouth. He tightened it and sucked and Mike clenched and was writhing. He could feel his toes digging hard into the bed, legs shifting and lifting and trembling.

Will bobbed only a couple times, sucking on him, stroking. His skin was hot and velvet and only getting hotter the longer it spent in his mouth. His lips were coming close to the base with every plunge until Mike’s cock had swollen up so much with the urge to come that it was getting hard to fit him against the back of his tongue. 

Mike was breathing so hard and twisting on the mattress. He brought both hands to Will’s hair and squeezed. He began to pulse.

His hands were still tight in Will’s hair when he started to come. He’d said something. He’d gasped something out and Will wished he’d heard it. It was some kind of warning, something like “Fuck, Will—god damn,“ and “I’m gonna fucking—I’m gonna fucking come” 

Something heavy with curses and gasping and weak boyish moans. 

He pulsed wet into Will’s mouth with every hard, demanding clench of his pelvic floor. Each one shook him on the bed, his shoulders jerking up, spine tight. 

He was coming for years in Will’s mouth and Will let it go. His fingers loosened, like letting water flow through a hose. He didn’t swallow, didn’t spit, but instead sat with it. He felt it coat his teeth and his tongue and his lips when it dripped out and around the appendage. He made a meager little sound and sucked against him, almost like slurping, until he popped off the head of his cock and then swallowed down rather loud just to prove he could.

Mike audibly squeaked.

His come tasted bitter and sharp, with a dull aftertaste that made him throb between the legs.

“Holy shit,” Mike breathed.

Will removed himself. He sat back, dizzy. 

He palmed over the crotch of his pants.

He was harder than he’d ever been in his life. His shorts were tighter than all hell and he ached like running a marathon. 

“God, yeah, I’m definitely gay,” he said after a moment, looking down. 

He didn’t even feel that horny. His dick was just interested. Shocked and perplexed and excited at what he’d just done.

He felt like he could suck Mike’s dick ten times more. 

Mike stared at him for a long, long time. Blinking and breathing. He lowered his eyes to Will’s hard-on. Again, lobotomized. 

“I don't know… I don’t know how to do that,” he said slowly, voice hoarse.

Will shook his head. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.” He wiped at his mouth and realized he was shaking. He sat back against the wall and wrung at his hands, heels pushing down on his cock. He looked back at Mike. “Also I didn't really either, I’d never… done that before.”

“Seriously?” Mike asked, lifting his hips to pull his boxers back up. He was clumsy, wobbly. 

“Yeah.”

“Well it was really good,” he said softly, dropping his jeans off the bed and onto the floor.

“Thank you, I think,” Will replied.

Mike looked at his boner again. He looked like he felt bad. He had pulled himself all the way up to the head of the bed, knees tucked close to his chest.

“It’s fine. I’m actually a little stressed out so it’ll probably go away soon,” Will said, shaking his head. Mike looked confused.

“Why?”

Will almost laughed.

“I just blew you. That’s… kind of a lot.”

Mike seemed vacant, while Will’s heart was still pounding. They were both quiet then, assumably thinking about completely different things. Will was surprised when Mike started speaking again.

“Was it? I mean… is it? It felt like a lot, but like—was it hard… to do?” he asked.

“What?”

Mike paused. He straightened out then crossed his legs underneath him, sitting forward to pick at a spot on the duvet. “Was it difficult? You know…” He wouldn’t meet Will’s eyes.

“I mean… no?” Will said. “Obviously I liked doing it, so.”

Mike looked up. 

“Yeah. I mean yeah, you really liked it. You weren’t even… touching yourself or anything and got—”

“See. So I’m sure.”

“Yeah.”

“About the gay thing.”

“Yeah, got it.”

They were quiet. They both looked away.

“So then it’s easy… sucking dick,” Mike said, shifting uncomfortably, picking at the spot again. Will snorted and looked at him.

“I—hah—I wouldn’t call it easy, I just. Like my mouth hurts I guess. My jaw anyway. It was sort of messy and confusing. I didn’t really know what I was doing so I may have not done it right,” he said and shrugged. Mike looked at him pointedly.

“Oh you did it right.”

“I’m—”

“You did it very right.”

Will smiled but he shook his head. He turned away and leaned heavy against the wall.

“Does it feel good for you?”

Will laughed again and tilted his head back, rolling his eyes out into the darkness of the room before looking at him. As ridiculous as it was, just talking about it was… soothing. Mike was curious, oblivious, interested. Will felt guilty, but the more Mike pressed the more he wanted to tell. To do it again.

Better not that last part. His boner had just started to go away.

“It’s not like a mouth massage, Mike, it just… really turned me on,” Will explained.

Mike paused. “I turn you on?”

Will looked at him. His eyes were kind of glassy in the dark, still somewhere between drunk and blissed out. The tops of his cheeks were still rosy pink.

“You’re kind of an idiot,” Will said. Mike looked down.

“Yeah. Yeah I know that.”

For a while it seemed like Mike wasn’t going to say anything else. He pulled his hand back into his lap and bit at his lip, pulling the skin, so Will turned to him.

“Why would I suck your dick if you didn’t turn me on?”

“I don’t know. Because we’re friends,” Mike said with a shrug. He still wasn’t looking up.

“Friends don’t suck each other's dicks just because they’re friends,” Will said.

“I mean, they could.”

“You’re saying that because you want me to do it again,” Will said and that’s when Mike looked up, because of course it was. Will sighed. Mike took awhile to respond.

“Right. Yeah, I guess,” he said softly. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be weird, does it?” He looked strangely hopeful and that bothered Will enough to keep direct eye contact, to push the issue. To get it through.

“No, it’s… it’s pretty weird, Mike,” he said. “It’s pretty gay.”

Mike winced. He paused. “To suck or get sucked?” he asked.

“Both.”

Mike looked down. He laid back on the pillow and Will felt bad. They probably both felt bad.

“So we stop then?” Mike asked.

Will sighed a second time.

“Yeah… I mean. We really should. If you don’t think you’re into guys… or into me,” he said.

Mike didn’t say anything. He didn’t do anything. He didn’t nod or shake his head or really even breathe. He didn’t do or say anything. Will grimaced. He’d thought maybe something would come of that. 

Mike huffed. He stretched one arm behind him and crossed it behind his head. He looked at the ceiling, his favorite fucking place. Moments passed. Several. Will shifted to go, and then he turned back with a question. 

“You looked at me,” he said to Mike.

He remembered catching Mike’s eyes several times while his mouth was on him. Only a few moments at a time until his eyes fluttered and jaw unhinged and he had to look away. 

“Yeah,” Mike said quietly.

“Why?”

Mike looked at him for a minute without moving his head, just turning his eyes downward, staring at him straight down from his nose. His hips sort of shifted. He shook his head slow.

“You looked so fucking good down there, Will.”

He palmed over himself weakly. He turned his eyes back to the ceiling and sighed, like he was frustrated with himself. “Fuck,” he whispered, and shut his eyes.

“I should go to bed,” Will said.

Mike nodded. “Yeah, alright.”

Will turned for a second time and then stopped. He took a sharp inhale right before speaking, as if he was worried he’d run out of time or run out of air. Or both.

“Mike are you okay with all of this?” he asked.

Mike opened his eyes. He sat up slow, thinking. He was at a loss for words.

“I’m just glad it’s you,” he said. “That I’m doing this with.”

Will smiled. A sad smile. He moved in, one knee curled up on the bed and one foot on the ground. Half in, half out. He touched Mike’s cheek, held it.

“Of course, Mike. Best friends, right?”

Mike reached up and touched Will’s wrist. He blinked slow and looked down.

“Yeah. Best friends."

 

Will got up to go. When he reached for the bedroom door he realized it was locked. Almost like he... He turned sharp to look at Mike to find that he had turned over onto his side, his back toward the door.

Will unlocked it.

“Goodnight, Mike," he said.

And left. 

 

 

Notes:

I mean honestly how much worse can it get? 🤷 TRYING TO RESPOND TO COMMENTS NOW ILY BYYYYE

Chapter 3

Summary:

Adding this song bc vibes and relevant: Maybe My Soulmate Died - iamnotshane

Notes:

🎉🎉🎉 !!! this took me FOREVER because I had the whole thing written out beforehand and just as I was about to copy paste and upload, I thought of an entirely different ending and could no longer decide. So I had to spend AGES making a CONGLOMERATE of the two and I still don't know if it paid off.

But also I was drunk and made myself cry.

 

 

Will laid awake for hours. What felt like hours, anyway. It could have been only moments, but they were excruciating all the same. 

He was wrong, he never stopped being hard. How could he? He was repeating and repeating and repeating it all in his head. The taste of Mike’s come was still sitting between his teeth and Will found himself sucking through them to taste him again, just a little bit more. He felt debauched for it. Depraved. He was so fucking hard and refused to touch himself out of guilt. 

Who the fuck likes sucking dick that much?

A fag, that’s who. A fag who’s really into his best friend. His evil, manipulative best friend who just wanted his cock sucked and to go to bed. 

Who locked the door as soon as they entered, sure that he would get what he wants. 

Will felt awful. He felt horny and awful. He wondered if this was what love really was. Horny and paranoid and awful. 

He palmed over himself and tried to shove his dick into a more comfortable position. He was so stiff that it was hard to manage. His boxers kept getting tangled on it, his dick catching either against the leg hole or the small opening in the front. He just wanted to go to sleep. He turned over onto his side and hated the friction, then onto his stomach and hated the pressure. He rolled onto his back and just sighed. 

He hated Mike. He thought he might love him now just as much as he hated him, for making him feel this way. 

In equal parts he was thankful. He used to think he’d never have any type of sex, after realizing he didn’t like girls. Now, although it may have been late in some people’s regards, he’d not only had both outercourse and oral sex, but it was with the exact person he was dreaming it would be with.

Now he felt bad for complaining. Will was stuck talking himself in and out of a reaction. He was happy. He was sad. He was angry he couldn’t have more and grateful for what he got. 

Some of Mike was better than none.

Will wondered how long he was willing to take pieces, to feed off the scraps. He worried it might be forever.

After a while, he finally fell asleep. He had a dream he thought might’ve been about Mike, if you looked close enough. Maybe some kind of metaphor. But even when he woke up, his mind wasn’t completely clear on it.

In fact, he wasn’t really clear on anything at all when his eyes fluttered open in the dark. He felt his body moving and writhing, as if it had been already, before waking. He felt his hips buck up, and something wet and warm close around the head of his dick.

Groaning sleepily, Will split off into a very shocked moan when his hands found a soft, soft head of hair above his lap. 

“Shit—oh, shit,” he cursed weakly, voice gravely and cracking with sleep. He breathed hard, his hands finding Mike’s hair and gripping it. He was between Will’s legs, mouth first. Will nearly arched off the bed—the creaky old futon they were on that now felt more like a cloud.

“Oh my go—oh my god, Mike,” he moaned. Mike made a sound.

Was this serious? Was this real?

Will tried to look for him in the dark using only his hands. He gripped his shoulder, boney and broad, right above his hips. 

Mike was holding his waist with one hand, the other wrapped tight around him. His mouth was pulling him in with nervous, tentative sucks, his tongue wet and moving underneath. Will could feel him adjusting his fingers, tightening then loosening then moving down to the base of him. He squeezed and Will groaned.

This was real.

“Yes,” Will gasped.

Mike sank deeper. Will could feel his tongue, then his teeth, a little uncomfortably. Readjusting. Trying to mimic what Will had done to him.

His mouth slipped lower yet again and he could feel Mike trying to regulate how to breathe with a cock at the back of his throat, shifting him around in his mouth—brief against his teeth again.

“Ouch—“ Will murmured.

“So’ry,” Mike mumbled around the appendage.

He shifted the angle of his head a bit and sank down once again.

Oh fuck, that’s it. That was perfect. He’s got it. 

Will rolled his body downward and then back up to give the tiniest thrust inside Mike’s mouth, pushing along the flat of his tongue and the ridges of his palate. He groaned weakly. He had goosebumps.

Mike shifted up and pulled his lips over the head of Will’s cock again and again until there was enough spit to run his hand through. Slick, he pumped carefully and chased his own knuckles with his mouth, meeting in the middle. 

Will hadn’t even looked down yet, but he knew when he did it’d be devastating.

He does.

He sees Mike sucking his dick and he doesn’t believe it. Doesn’t really even think he’s awake, or alive.

Jesus Christ, he’d never felt anything like it. He was shaking all over.

Is this how he’d made Mike feel? 

He looked down at him again. Mike reached briefly to shift at something between his legs and Will wondered for a moment if maybe he was hard. He looked at his face, at his dark lashes downturned, eyes closed. His lips were so red, his hand pale next to them, pulling over Will’s cock right behind his sucking mouth. Will’s hips jumped. He couldn’t help it, physically twitching and shaking with every up and every down—stroking hand, sucking mouth.

Agonizing climb from the base of his cock to the head of it, and then back down again.

He’s gonna come.

Already. Simple as that. He just couldn’t last—but he desperately wanted to. He wanted to keep himself inside Mike’s mouth forever, soak into him and just be a part of it—him—the moment—in around above below. Everything this was. Just Mike.

Oh, he fucking loved him. Probably always had. 

Though it’s hard to know what’s real and what’s a disproportionate reaction when you’re getting your dick sucked for the first time.

Fuck, had he done it this good? 

Will squeezed his hands at the back of Mike’s head, fisting his hair probably a bit too hard but was trying desperately not to push down and up into his mouth.

“Mike. Mike, Mike—I’m gonna,” Will panted.

Mike moaned around him like he fucking wanted it.

“You don’t—you don’t have to swallow it—“ he gasped. 

Mike pulled off with a wet pop but kept his hand moving—squeezing and jerking over the hot, wet skin. Will curled his toes into the mattress and exploded in his hand.

He came powerfully over Mike’s fist. For what felt like ages—hard pulses from his pelvic floor that made all the muscles in his thighs and ass clench. His hands fell and gripped up tightly in the sheets. He was moaning, and very nearly weeping.

His come puddled ridiculously on his stomach, after watching it jump in spurts of an Olympic feat. God, it was almost embarrassing. Then again it was Mike’s fault for holding him straight up.

He panted, Mike stroking him slow, until there was nothing.

Until it was all just quiet, husky breaths and come pooling warm on his belly.

Mike let go and sat back on his heels, his mouth still shiny and wet. 

For a moment Mike laughed absentmindedly, sort of in shock, and then Will laughed too, nervously, shaking his head.

“Wh,” he stopped. His voice was so broken. He tried again. “What was that for?” Will asked, reaching down to touch himself consolingly. He was still wet with spit and he wanted to keep it there forever. His chest was heaving.

His come turned runny and dripped down over his hips. Will was too exhausted to even clean it away.

“Nothing, I just—“ Mike wiped at his mouth. He kept staring at Will like it was starting to sink in. 

Oh wait. Oh god.

“I’m going back to my room,” he said quickly.

“Mike, wait. Mike,” Will attempted to sit up after him but Mike was already gone. His footsteps were so light on the stairs it was like he had practiced climbing them fast and silent all his life.

Will groaned and dropped back to the pillow. His whole body was vibrating. He’d gone lightheaded and gotten vertigo just from sitting up. “Fucking—“ he grit through his teeth, balling up his fists. He felt like throwing a fit, kicking on the bed. What the fuck… what the fuck is wrong with Mike. 

What just happened?

Had that really just happened?

He’s not chasing after him. He’s not. Also, his legs don’t work. Mike sucked the bones out of his body. 

Groaning and sighing, Will shifted and shoved his underwear off his legs. He used it to clean himself and then threw it hard at the floor beside him. He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. If Mike came back right now he’d probably punch him in the face and then suck his cock again.

He didn’t understand. He wanted to cry.

Instead he rolled over, in a state of shock.

Suffering equal amounts of oxytocin, endorphins, and cortisol enough to collapse the nervous system of ten grown men, he pulled a pillow over his head and simply passed out.

—

Will woke up alone.

The silence was deafening.

The lights were off.

It took a while for him to remember where he was. He rolled onto his side and looked around. In the dim afternoon light streaming in from the window next to the futon, he could see the outlines of shelves lined up along the walls, a big desk in the middle of the room with their campaign materials spread across it, and the door to the bathroom cracked open.

His heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. Then it started pounding. He opened his eyes wider.

He remembered.

Will put his feet on the floor and lifted himself slowly. His clothes were still there. Everything was exactly where he'd left it.

He sat up completely, rubbing his face. Naked, he ghosted a hand over his dick to try to jumpstart the memory… The memory of Mike’s mouth wrapped around him. 

He couldn’t fucking believe it.

He whined, his forehead pressed down into his free palm and shaking softly from side to side in disbelief. 

Will had spent a lot of time picking apart dreams from reality, especially after what he had been through. And as much as he wanted to disbelieve it, he could remember Mike vividly. The smell of him, the feel of his tongue and the whole inside of his mouth. He could remember Mike pulling on him, stroking him, and his hair tickling the inside of his thighs. There was no way it hadn’t happened. And for some reason, that pissed him off. 

Because he left.

He just left like it was a fucking mistake or an embarrassment or a crime. He left like he’d only come down to pay his dues and then rushed back up to rinse out his mouth. 

But he’d still done it. Closing a hand around himself, Will squeezed and shivered. He could still hear Mike moaning.

Will groaned in frustration. He was reaching a saturation point of deliberating in his head, day in and day out, whether what they were doing was wrong, whether he was being used, whether he liked him back, whether they were ruining their friendship, with no help from him at all. 

Something was wrong with Mike. This was not the Mike he knew.

He found himself wishing he were friends with someone else.

Why didn’t he just say something? Why didn’t he just explain himself? Why didn’t they just talk? 

And you know what? Maybe Will didn’t even want to anymore.

He got up without looking. He shot up off the thin, crooked mattress and grabbed his clothes, fumbling into them, sans underwear after discovering it was soiled with come. He tossed it over by the downstairs bathroom, hardly giving a shit anymore. 

He tried to fix his hair, groaned, and pounded up the stairs. 

 

The door to Mike’s room was ajar. Regardless of its open-to-close ratio, Will intended to barge in no matter what. When he did, the door swung so hard it thwanged against the rubber door stopper on the adjacent wall.

Mike’s head shot up.

He’d been sitting on his bed, fully dressed and curled over a textbook. Will almost forgot he had his exam today, and for a moment he felt bad. But when he saw Mike’s stupid, oblivious face, it immediately faded. Will lurched forward and snatched his bookbag off the ground. He overturned it and shook out the remainder of warm beers stowed inside from the night before. They clinked together and rolled somewhere underneath Mike’s bed. 

“Keep them,” Will muttered bitterly and grabbed for the door.

“W— hey, hold on!”

Will swung around. “No, Mike, I’m leaving,” he said sternly.

“What, why!?”

“Because,” Will laughed, although it wasn’t funny. “Because you’re just being fucking weird now!”

“What?” Mike pushed away his textbook as if making room for the conversation, but Will’s hands were shaking and he wasn’t sure how much more time he could spend inside Mike’s bedroom without exploding. There was a bottle of lotion on the side table that hadn’t been there the night before. 

“Last night? And then you just leave the room like that like I did something wrong?” Will snapped.

“I was tired!” Mike said, his shoulders locked up, way too high in an unconvincing shrug. 

“Bullshit, dude.”

“What?"

Will turned to go and then turned back again for the second time. “You should really figure your shit out before you drag me into it,” he spat at Mike, enraged by the pinch in his brow as if he hadn’t seen this coming one bit. 

Mike scoffed, tried to stand and protest. “What the fuck, man? My shit’s fine! It’s figured!”

He scrambled up off the bed.

“Fine?” Will repeated loudly. “You sure about that?”

“Dude!” Mike threw his hands up and stepped forward after him.

“Fuck off.”

Will glanced back at the lotion and wondered for a moment how he could possibly find within him the time to jerk off. 

He turned and all but fled from the room. Mike stammered and nearly tripped over his own feet in an effort to follow him.

“Will!” 

Will slung his bag over his shoulder and bolted out the front door. He was halfway across the driveway when Mike caught up with him.

“Will, stop! Calm d—just give me a minute!” Mike said, his sneakers scuffing hard on the concrete when he skid to a stop behind him. Will threw his bookbag at his bike with full force and turned.

“Fuck off, Mike, I’m so done with this. You’re actually hurting my feelings, you know that, right?”

Mike opened his mouth and then shut it. He blinked.

“It’s not my fucking fault you’re so repressed or confused or scared or whatever it is—you can’t keep doing this shit with me and then blowing me off!”

Mike stepped forward. “I’m not, let me explain,” he pleaded. “I can expl—just give me a second.”

“Really? Fine. What’d you figure out then? Hm? Since it’s all figured out,” Will said, uncharacteristically severe and, for the first time, truly angry at Mike. So angry that maybe… maybe this time they just wouldn’t make up.

Why was it they always had these confrontations in the fucking driveway?

Mike looked around nervously. There was a neighbor across the street watering her garden and he glanced at her several times before reaching out for Will’s wrist. Will snatched it away.

“Wi— fuck, Will, can we just… can we just go around back for a second?”

Will shook his head but when Mike grabbed his wrist for a second time, he felt so numb he let him drag them around the side of the house and into the shaded back area of the yard, hidden by rose bushes.

“Get—Mike, get off me!” he finally shouted, shoving at Mike's hands. 

“Don’t fucking touch me—stop fucking touching me!”

Mike recoiled, his eyes rapidly blinking. He looked thinner, smaller than he usually did—like he might shrivel up in the sun and blow away. 

Will glared at him, tip to toes, almost with disgust. “I’m tired of this, Mike!” he shouted. “I’m tired!”

He sobbed dryly.

“You’re hurting my fucking feelings!” he repeated, shoving into Mike as hard as he could. “You know— feelings? The thing I fucking have for you?” He shoved again and Mike fell hard to the ground. Will stood over him and Mike shielded his eyes, turning away. 

Will wavered. 

He felt tears wet his eyes. 

He caught a hiccup in his own throat. His lip trembled. Mike slowly lowered his hand and breathed frightened up at him. 

Mike was always brave. Was he really going to let Will have his shot? 

Just like that?

Will unclenched his fists and dropped down to his knees beside him. Mike sat up quick and tried to wrap his arms around him.

“I’m so tired of this,” Will moaned. Mike was breathing rapidly. He pushed Mike’s arms off of him. 

“Why’d you lock the door, Mike?!” he demanded, voice shaking.

“Huh?”

“Why’d you lock the fucking door!”

Mike laughed. He stared. He shook his head. 

“I—I—“

Will stood up. He slapped the grass and dirt off his knees and narrowed his eyes at Mike—watery as they were, he refused to back down. 

“Yeah—just fucking say it, man! Why?”

Mike struggled onto his feet and Will didn’t help him.

“Because I—“ Mike paused and looked like he wanted to cry. He was defensive and sad all at once. “I wanted something to happen!”

Mike smoothed his hand over his mouth like it could wipe away the words, over his cheek to wipe away the tears that weren’t yet there. 

Shame, Will realized. He was witnessing him feel shame. 

“You wanted me to blow you.”

He hadn’t asked it as a question. Will was staring at him, struggling not to give in to the way the waterline of Mike’s eyes were slowly turning red. 

“No. I wanted to kiss you."

Mike covered his mouth and suppressed a sob. 

“I just wanted to kiss you.”

Will fell silent.

Mike uncovered his mouth.

“So did you… did you do it back just because I did it?” Will asked after a few beats of silence. His eyes were narrow, his expression cold.

“Yes. No.”

Will threw up his hands.

“No.”

Will turned his head.

“No, I wanted t—“ Mike turned around and it looked like he took in a big shaky breath. He turned back. He was really trying. “I wanted to do it.” 

“Then—“

“I wanted to do it, I just didn’t think we’d be doing it… then.” 

“You—“

Mike kept interrupting him.

“I just wanted to fucking kiss you, Will.”

And that’s when he started crying. Mike quickly cupped around his mouth and nose and tried to turn away but Will didn’t let him. He grabbed his sleeve and tugged softly and Mike tried his best to push away what he could of the wetness around his eyes before looking back at him.

Will felt stunned. He felt crude for assuming that all Mike had wanted was a blowjob, for face planting right into Mike’s crotch the first moment he got when all he wanted to do was… kiss.

Kiss?

That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Mike was the one who asked him to suck his dick, in that weird roundabout way, who even said he wouldn’t reciprocate. He was the one who kept trying to ignore it, who kept denying that he liked boys, who kept jeopardizing their friendship again and again to get off.

Or was that Will? He couldn’t fucking remember now. He couldn’t remember who started what. 

Will felt a weak, crying sound break in his throat, memories coming back of how nervous Mike had been to kiss him the first time on the couch. And then the second, and then the third. How he kept coming back for more and kissed him over and over and over when Will suddenly turned it into something way more sexual.

Will felt himself ease back, turning small. Both his attitude and his shoulders, pulling in tight against himself. 

Again he felt debauched. A gay fucking pervert, like everyone said he would be. 

“I’m sorry. Okay, I’m sorry,” he muttered, barely audible, wasn’t even sure if he meant it. Wasn't even sure if he was wrong.

Mike immediately threw his arms around him. He drew him in and pressed him so tight Will could hardly breathe. It reminded him of his mother. There was no greater love he’d felt than from his mother, and now this. 

Now this.

“I want you. I want you,” Mike said, his voice completely shattered. He’d never heard him like that. “Fuck it, I want you—that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“You want what?” Will demanded into the cloth over his shoulder, his voice breaking too.

“You, Will!” he shouted. “Jesus!” Mike pulled him back to look him in the eye. 

“I’m trying to fucking tell you I—I have feelings too! I like you! I like you the way I liked El and—and I want to be with you the way I was with her.”

Will didn’t blink. None of his features moved. 

“And… and I’m sorry if I keep mentioning her or whatever but, but I don’t really have any other way to describe it, or make it make sense.” Mike was sort of shaking him now, and a tear fell off Will’s lashes. 

“Please, man, I know I’m not good with words. I’m not good at this but I… I fucking love you. And not in a like… not in a friend way.” He dropped his hands. They were shaking.

He squirmed in front of Will and got frustrated, looking around. He tried to pull them toward the patio but Will wasn’t moving.

He pressed at Will’s chest. “Fuck! I’m—I’m sorry, Will, okay? I just… I’ve been trying to—“

Will listened to the cicadas buzzing in the trees. He heard the breeze loud in his ears.

Mike shifted on the grass. He shoved at his fevered cheeks and sniffled. “Can we…. Can we just go back inside? Please?” he begged.

Will shook his head, still reeling and feeling dizzy. He also nodded. He wasn’t sure which one he meant. Mike tugged at his hand which was soft and pliant now, letting Mike guide him in whatever direction he pleased. Whatever direction meant he’d get more answers out of this confusing, messy boy he loved, who just might love him back.

That’s what he just said, right?

Mike led him through the back sliding door and hustled in past whatever was going on in the kitchen and living room. The TV was loud enough to have drowned out their shouting outside but his mom glanced at him with concern when they shuffled by. 

“Honey, don’t you—”

Mike pulled Will quickly into his room and shut the door. His hand moved over the lock and then his face went white and he pulled his hand away. He looked into Will’s eyes and felt them both hang on a single breath. 

Mike broke the silence.

“I tried to tell you. Last night, I tried.”

Will shook his head, still dumbfounded. “You were drunk,” he insisted, face getting hot. He was whispering, tuning in and out, listening to Mike’s mother do the dishes in the other room. He felt within his own panicked bubble while the world moved on around him, around them both. 

Mike opened and closed his mouth several times, standing close and looking at him intensely.  

“So? So—I—I drank a little, so what? I was nervous so I drank but I wanted to tell you those things, Will. I was being serious,” Mike said.

Will laughed. He couldn’t believe it. “You were just drunk and messing around. I thought you were just drunk and messing around!”

“No. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know-”

Mike heard his mom call something from down the hall and he turned to check the clock on his desk. He looked back to Will with worried eyes. 

“I have to go soon… the test, I—”

“No,” Will said sternly. “No, I’m not done. I’m not done with this,” he said, stepping closer. 

“Will, come on—I”

“I don’t understand—I don’t understand why you,” Will glared at him. “Shit, Mike, down there, you—you didn’t seem happy at all. You fucking ran upstairs. It’s like you… it’s like you didn’t even like—”

“I liked it.”

“Wh—” Will paused, his lips still in the shape of whatever he meant to say next. Mike stared at him. 

“I liked it, okay?”

Will froze.

Mike looked at his lips. Will raised his brows.

“I liked it,” Mike said again, his features twitching, almost as if he were about to laugh. 

“I ran because it freaked me out. I was hard after you… after I made you come.”

Will was silent.

“So yeah I fucking liked it,” Mike repeated. He laughed, embarrassed, frustrated. Maybe frustrated that it wasn’t already obvious. “I really fucking liked it,” he confirmed desperately. 

Will started nodding way before he even started talking, but he’d meant to do them at the same time. 

“Okay. Okay, yeah, okay,” he said stupidly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Will had gone full idiot. He was in a state of utter confusion. 

“So,” he muttered, unable to let it go. He wanted to ask every question, to have it explained to him in every combination of words possible. “So you mean you liked receiving, or—”

“I liked doing it and I wish I swallowed,” Mike interrupted him.

Will was hard in record time for that.

He swallowed and his mouth immediately filled with spit again. He felt like he was going to drown. Will cleared his throat as best he could, trying to keep composure, trying to ignore how hard he was now. Trying to ask all the questions, to get what he needed. 

“So you do like both?” he asked seriously. 

“I don’t know,” Mike said.

Will clicked back into his body. Fully annoyed. “You don’t fucking know?” he nearly shouted.

“I don’t know, Will, but I like you. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl thing, or if I’ll ever understand it but… fuck man, I like you. I jerk off to you. About the shit we do.” Mike paused and squeezed his eyes shut, sighed, then opened them again. “Shit, sorry, that was a bit much. But I do.”

Will’s mouth hung open completely.

“You jerk off about me?” he scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Mike shook his head, confused by the reaction. 

“I go to sleep every night thinking about you touching me. I fucking dream of sucking your dick every waking moment.” Will was being serious, but Mike smiled. 

“Really?”

Will almost hit him. Almost hit himself. 

“That’s so hot.” 

Will’s hands itched with the urge to strangle him. Maybe it was cute aggression. Mike was doing his little nose wrinkling smile and Will wanted so badly to put his tongue in Mike’s mouth. But he still felt like such a pervert, and—

“God Will I’m so into this shit,” Mike muttered and stepped forward. Will stepped back, startled.

Mike pressed him to the door. It made a hollow thunk sound where his head hit and Mike just kept pressing in.

Mike looked at him. It was an expression he didn’t recognize, and yet he did. It was the expression Mike made whenever they talked deeply, face to face, and he looked at his mouth mid-sentence like he wanted to kiss it or fuck it until the lights burned out. He’d been doing it for years and he was doing it now, staring at his lips and slowly caging him in against the door.

“I thought about it all night. Just needed to… think.” He reached down and unbuttoned Will’s pants. “You know?” He stuck his hand inside. 

Will’s knees went weak.

Mike grinned and tried to kiss him but his mouth was slack. He found where he was hard and wrapped his fingers around him, smirking at the lack of underwear. He hooked his chin over Will’s shoulder, tugging on him quickly, and got Will off in about fifteen seconds. He wiped the come off on the inside of his shirt. 

“So I'll... I’ll see you after the test, okay?” he said, a bit smug. Will didn’t respond. He made some sounds that didn’t sound human. Mike reached for the knob behind him and Will moved numbly away from it. Mike opened the door a crack before waiting for a response.

Will was red in the face, only sort of breathing, and at high risk for buckling at the knees. His cock was still throbbing and his shorts were wet.

“Y-Yeah. Okay,” he said, barely. His voice was squeaky and stunned.

Mike smiled at him. That beautiful goofy nose wrinkling smile. He closed the door and Will stumbled onto the bed and groaned, rubbing his throbbing crotch. 

—

Will couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Mike had admitted it. All of it. And he’d just sucked his dick and jerked him off without any prompting at all. It was of his own volition. He wanted to do it. He liked doing it. And he did a… suspiciously enthusiastic job to still be this manipulative creature Will had made him out to be in his mind.

Will was uprooted in his beliefs, utterly confused. He had hated him for this… for doing this thing they both loved.

And for what? Why couldn’t they ever find the time to talk shit out? Why was it always awkward silence or pressing matters or angry feelings?

No. No, he didn’t hate Mike for what they’d done. He hated Mike for how he’d made him feel. All the running away and denying and treating him like shit. There was no excuse for the way he blew him off time and time again… there was no excuse for the way he blew him either.

So really, no, he didn’t hate Mike. He wanted to be loved by him, ultimately. He wanted to be touched and brought to orgasm by Mike over and over and over again, and for what he said outside to be true. And Will was worried now that he wasn’t letting it. That he had missed the signs, or bitterly denied them when Mike tried to make them known. Maybe he hadn’t been a very good friend either. Mike had cried outside, telling him how he felt.

It hadn’t really occurred to him at all that Mike might have been struggling in a similar way he had been, all along. Struggling with his own taboo feelings, struggling with the words to explain. Struggling if they should or shouldn’t keep going, take things further, be together. Because what would that even look like? How would that be? Who would they be able to tell?

That’s what had Will melting like a soft shell crab, serving himself on a platter with his legs and his hands and his mouth wide open.

He was mad. He was so desperate and frustrated and knew, even still, he’d do whatever Mike wanted. 

Even if he still wanted to be just friends. Best friends.

Would they always be just best friends? Will felt his eyes tingle and he wiped them. He felt his hands start to shake. Best friends who kiss and fight and go down on each other… 

for what, forever? 

Will was tired of it. And he didn’t want to be best friends anymore.

He wanted to be more.

 

Will didn’t go home this time. He felt like he couldn’t even move. He sat on Mike’s bed and waited.

He’d wait for him. He’d wait for him forever if he had to.

And he prayed to god he didn’t have to. 

 

When Mike burst back into the room, in some sort of hurry, Will sat up at a complete right angle, rigid and full of fear. Fear that maybe he’d changed his mind or done some more thinking or… or worst of all, had been preoccupied with the situation and failed his test. 

“Is everything okay?” Will asked nervously. Mike threw his bag down. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s great,” Mike said. He sat down quickly on the bed. He was smiling.

“The test?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, like he hardly cared. Will breathed around the lump in his throat.

“…Are we okay?”

Mike smiled. He nodded. 

“Yeah.”

Will swallowed. He searched Mike’s eyes. He paused before he said it...

“Best friends?” he asked slowly.

Mike brought his head down and kissed him, smiling through it and pressing soft on Will’s lips. He shook his head and Will could feel his eyelashes brushing his cheek.

 

“No.”

 

 

Notes:

Mike: I love you
Will: *disassociates*

If you need a stronger ending that clearly shows a verbal agreement of getting together, I do have one written. Consider it... an epilogue:

"Do you know what I mean?" Mike asked.
"Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean," Will said.
"Good. Yeah. Good."
"So... Together?" Will asked.
Mike nodded. "Yeah. You and me."
Will stared at him.
"You’re mine. You’re mine and I’ll be yours. It’ll just be us, but… but, different," Mike said.
"Jesus, Mike," Will said in disbelief and kissed him, bringing him into his mouth hard and fast. Mike laughed against his lips and grabbed his face, pushing over and onto Will’s flimsy, shell-shocked frame. He pushed him to the bed and kissed into his mouth, laughing. Both of them laughing.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Fence Sitter