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Will has had enough today. He’d known right in the morning — waking up to a note from Mike saying “I’ll be out all day” — that today was going to let him down. He’d known the hours in their empty apartment would drag their feet, that he’d curse at the microwave and at the ice stuck in its mould. He just hadn’t anticipated waking up with a very persistent, painful as all hell boner.
Not that Mike would definitely help with that. If anything, the asshole would only make it worse, tease him and then leave him hanging to go frolic around with some random girl that only wants him for his dick. And— okay, maybe Will’s a hypocrite. That’s fine. He sighs, finishing his third cup of coffee and reaching for the coat hanger. Jerking off in his bed and then in the shower obviously isn’t helping. What he needs is a walk.
He loves New York. The Party all have apartments in the same block, their neighbourhood is beautiful and the people much more interesting than Hawkins’ dead-beat population. The ache in his pants is gradually forgotten the farther he goes, waving at an artist setting up a pop-up exhibition to his right. He knows that girl; she’s great at live sketching people. Normally Will would go and make conversation, maybe leave a tip, but he doesn’t trust his mood enough to do that today.
“—ait, Will! WILL!” comes a shrill voice from behind him.
Will’s smiling even before he’s turned around.
“Hey, big man!” Lucas greets, panting like he’d run towards Will from across the street.
He wraps Will in a warm hug. Will melts, shoulders easing at the familiar smell of Lucas’ cologne that had unfortunately been the subject of way too many conversations between Will and Max.
“Hi, Lucas,” Will says, gratitude seeping through his voice.
Lucas pats his back. “What’s up? Why’re you—”
“Will! Lucas!”
They both turn around to find Dustin closing in on them, long hair whipping behind him like a scene from a movie.
“You know I hate running, assholes,” he says, breathing hard as he hugs Will. “Hey, hey.”
He’s holding Lucas’ bag, so Will assumes they’ve been out doing something together. Also, Lucas is wearing that one red bomber jacket he loves to wear on walks around the city. Will likes how it brings out his shoulders and has told him that, even emphasised it once or twice in front of Mike. Just to feel something.
“Good to see you, Dusty-bun,” he teases, patting Dustin’s shoulder.
Dustin tips an imaginary hat at him. “The pleasure is all mine, Willy-nilly.”
Will laughs at the awful nickname and gestures for them to keep walking. It’s too cold to stand in one place for too long. His nose is already beginning to feel numb.
“Didn’t we decide to drop that?”
“Oh, did we? My bad, Byers,” Dustin says, walking to Will’s right while Lucas takes his left. “So… are you going to tell us what you’re doing out here in your slippers?”
Will looks down at his fuzzy rabbit socks and bright yellow flip-flops and slaps his forehead.
“Oh my god. I forgot to change into my shoes.”
“Left in a rush?” Lucas asks, frowning in sympathy.
“Not really.” Will pouts. “Just needed the walk.”
“Good,” Lucas replies and slings an arm around Will. “Cause it’s Star Wars Saturday and Mike already blew us off. So let’s all have a date without him.”
“Yeah.” Dustin plays with the rings on his fingers, eyes narrowed. “I refuse to believe it’s more fun to hang out with… What’s the name this time? Laura?”
“Lara,” Will corrects through gritted teeth. He glares at the uneven footpath, already regretting having left the house.
Dustin and Lucas share a look and rush to break Will’s staring competition with the ground by waving their hands around.
“Whatever, man. I’ll call the girls. Who’s hungry?”
———
It’s not Mike’s first time getting a blowjob.
Yet, something about this one is different. There’s the familiar feeling of warm, wet lips around his head, the usual sucking and moaning and zaps of pleasure from the vibrations. But there’s also, strangely, a tingling sensation inside him that’s not just his impending orgasm.
He squints, standing up straight and staring at the girl with her lips around him. She meets his eyes: hers perfectly lined, false lashes caked in mascara, his probably looking ridiculous, unfocused, pupils blown out, and searching her face like he’s trying to decode a puzzle. He should enjoy this. It’s not every day you get a pretty girl on her knees enthusiastically offering to blow you. He shakes his head, puts a hand in her hair, humming his approval.
She likes that and starts endeavouring to take him deeper, long manicured nails wrapping around his base. Her hair falls onto her face in perfect curls that survived an entire day out in the sun, but now Mike is messing them up. He lets them go, dropping his head back against the door and letting out a quiet moan. It’s not fake. He really does feel good. It evidently isn’t her first time doing this. She knows just how much pressure to apply, how much to move, and she’s not hurting him. Another couple minutes of this and he will cum. It’s good.
Then, through the haze of building pleasure and alcohol, Mike feels something hot and wet pressing against him. It’s not her mouth, and it’s even not against his exposed dick but further back, against his ass. It’s both tentative and deliberate as it rubs against Mike’s hole. He gasps, arching off the door and accidentally fucking his dick into her mouth.
“Sorry. Sorry, Lara. I don’t—” Mike stutters as she gags and pulls off with teary eyes.
He tries to be discreet about looking back at the spot he was leaned against. It’s a crazy thing to do, because he’s obviously not expecting the door to have grown a dick. Mike frowns, frantically searching the day for any edibles he had consumed. But no, they’d gone on a very tame lunch date, made out in the bathroom, laid down on the beach, made out in the showers some more, and just when Mike thought of heading home, she’d made him an offer he couldn’t refuse: a party. They’d danced close and drank tons but, unless someone had spiked him again, he’d not consumed any hallucinogenic drugs. Then why—
Mike moans loud, slapping a hand over his mouth. It’s inside him. Oh my god, there’s a dick inside him.
He looks down at Lara, eyes wide, and she looks just as shocked as him for a second, but then, even with her mouth stuffed, Mike sees the corner of her lips twitch in satisfaction. He slumps against the door as the phallic intrusion bottoms out, feeling suddenly like he’s got no strength in his legs. She holds him up with a hand on his hips, and works her mouth up and down faster.
On one hand, Mike’s relieved whatever ghost dick is entering him decided to do so when his own cock was actively in her mouth. He can only imagine how mortifying it would have been if Lara had been sitting back and he’d started moaning like a whore, completely untouched. On the other hand, this is the worst time for whatever the fuck is happening to him because he has to travel home in a bit and the thing inside him doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to stop.
Being drunk makes it a little bit easier to find humour in this entirely confusing situation. He smiles to himself, both hands in her hair again, trying to get his bearings. It’s a Saturday night. Him and Will are still broken up. He’s been out with Lara almost all day and now night. She’s incredibly pretty, smells like honey, and she’s got his dick in her mouth. All those things he knows for sure. There’s just one tiny amendment that’s difficult to digest:
There’s a very real, very thick cock penetrating him at the same time that he’s getting a blowjob. Except there’s no one else in this room that has a dick, and Mike’s not that far gone that he’d consider the possibility of Lara’s mouth somehow linking with his own insides. So, in a truly devastating feat of the impossible, Mike Wheeler has a cock inside him that’s not his own, that’s not a toy because it’s moving, that’s attached to a real live person who’s decided to start up on him without his permission.
Zero prep, too. Mike can’t still have been loose from last night, and yet, it doesn’t hurt in the least. It feels the way he imagines it would feel in a fantasy world where assholes were always perfectly stretched out, so they could all just give in to the pleasure and fuck each other whenever, wherever. It feels almost like his body is welcoming the intrusion.
He bites his lip, trying not to whine at the stretch and the fullness inside him. Not only does the well-endowed individual fucking him know exactly what they’re doing, they also seem incredibly pent up. They might have been slow with the initial slide in, but right after Mike felt the long, hard dick brush against his prostate for the first time, it had started ramming into him in movements almost inhumanely fast.
He has to shut his eyes, lean back, and give himself instructions: Deep breaths. Focus on Lara. Whatever you do, do not start crying and begging for the phantom cock to go harder.
Lara’s bobbing her head now, clearly pleased with whatever face Mike is making. He babbles for her to keep going, barely able to hear his own voice over his nerves singing from the pounding he’s receiving. He can’t help it, his hips start driving back to meet the thrusts even though that’s probably doing nothing to help his case. If Lara notices how he’s moving away from her mouth instead of into it, she doesn’t say anything.
“Oh fuck.”
He bites the back of his hand, tears stinging his eyes as the cock finds his spot and immediately starts abusing it. Mike doesn’t think he’s ever been fucked this rough or driven to an orgasm so fast in his life. Whoever is railing him is going to cum too. He can feel it in the arrhythmic thrusts, and he doesn’t know if he’s going to survive that, doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get home after this. All he knows is that he wants it, needs this ghost dick to pump him full like he’s never desired anything else.
Lara moans, taking all of Mike as his dick twitches and jerks. He can barely feel the heat of her mouth anymore, too overstimulated to think of anything but the huge, thick length inside him. Then it strikes his prostate one last time, making Mike cry out as his insides are flooded with hot liquid. He empties his own cock into his date’s mouth, hips helplessly following the last of the relentless movements into his sore hole. He cradles the back of Lara’s head and hunches under the implications of what just happened.
He shudders as the thing pulls out after cumming inside. There’s actual, real cum inside of him that’s going to leak all over his thighs. His head is throbbing, the skin on his entire body and especially around his hole is tingling, and his legs are screaming at him for relief. Mike’s proud of himself for how valiantly he fights the urge to sink to the ground and sob.
Instead, he sucks in a breath and gently nudges Lara back to her feet, pulling his boxers back up the first chance he gets. He’s still buzzed from all the alcohol running through his system, but whoever that was had fucked him sober enough to know there’s no way in hell he’s letting her see the cum dripping out of his ass. He thinks hey, maybe this is another torture mechanism his mind cooked up as a special treat for the weekend. Clenching makes a glob of cum leak out of him and, for no reason at all, that’s the moment that it hits Mike. He gasps, eyes widening at the memory of the cock rocking into him, spurting inside in an uncannily familiar rhythm.
It’s Will. Mike knows Will’s dick better than his own at this point, knows all of Will, as a lover, as a best friend, as someone he’s had sex with more times than anyone else on this planet. He just doesn’t know how the hell William Alejandro Byers managed to fuck him from all the way across town.
———
“This is such a bad idea,” Will admits to his ceiling, legs spread and aching from a day out with the Party minus Mike.
They’d had Chinese for lunch, then spent an hour walking around trying to get everyone’s stomachs to calm down. Will hadn’t given a single thought to whether Mike had eaten, not one. El had loudly announced that she’s never eating ever again, but gotten distracted mid-sentence by an ice lolly stall. None of them truly had the strength to deny her anything, so of course they’d gotten lollies too, and somehow managed to carry them home to devour on their Return of the Jedi re-watch.
Will had kicked them all out around 7, saying he had an assignment to finish and that he was tired, but really, he’d just needed to jerk off again. He felt like a sex addict, slumping in the shadows waiting for his friends to leave so he could dash back to the shop they’d passed by earlier. Because one product on display had caught his attention and held it the entire afternoon.
“No way,” he says, even as he’s lubing himself up. “I’m not actually going to do this.”
What has Mike made of him? Sometimes, Will feels like his entire life derailed the minute he turned his head and there Mike was, swinging around all smiley and beautiful. It’s fucked up. It should be a diagnosable illness how every moment after that has just been Will trying and failing not to think about Mike’s smile.
He sighs for the fiftieth time today and uncovers the toy from under the blanket, dick in his other hand. It’s not too flashy, not too big. If you didn’t look too closely, it could almost pass as a flashlight. Maybe Will could put a lid on it and do just that, in case he ever finds himself in the mortifying situation wherein Mike finds the toy in his desk drawer. Except Mike’s too smart to believe a flashlight would be translucent blue all over, with no front light at all but instead, a gaping hole for Will to stick his cock into.
He drops his head back onto the pillow and lets out a long-suffering groan.
Yeah. It’s an astronomically bad idea. But you want to, don’t you, Will?
Sue him, he really wants to.
He starts slow and plans to keep it that way. The sheets are soaked with lube before he’s even started, which is his fault entirely because he’s stalling, guilt crawling inside his stomach like a venomous spider. He glances towards the clock, even though Mike said he’ll be back late tonight, which probably means not at all. Will’s gaze falls on the toy’s wrapping and instruction manual that he’d chucked to the corner of the room in his hurry to get on the bed, boxers already half-off.
He takes a deep breath and presses the tip of his dick against the flesh-light’s entrance. As always, Mike is the only thing on his mind. Despite the uncomfortable pit in his stomach, he can’t help but whine out the name of the only person he’s ever loved as the heat engulfs his cock. He thrashes around, breath accelerating as he stares down at the faint outline of himself inside the translucent toy.
No way. This can’t be right. He’s never used a flesh-light before, never been driven to that extent, but it feels too real. If Will didn’t know any better, it feels almost like he’s actually fucking…
———
“Mike. Mike. Oh, yes. Right there, to the left.”
Mike hums and is in the process of shifting his tongue as directed, when Will enters him again. Right then, he regrets not leaving after he had cum in Lara’s mouth, moaning so embarrassingly loud he’s baffled she hadn’t called him out for it. But then again, what kind of shitty guy would he be to leave her unsatisfied after she was so careful and patient with his own pleasure?
He pulls back a little, grip tightening on her thighs. It’s not even been that long since the first round, but no, it’s definitely Will again. Mike can feel it clear as day. It’s Will, big and thick and fully hard like he hadn’t just pumped Mike with a shit load of cum just minutes ago. Jesus Christ. Today’s the day he dies. He should probably start asking around for graveyard deals.
“Mike? You okay?” Lara asks, looking down at him. She cradles his face, pupils blown out wide and her lipstick smudged a little. “Why’d you stop?”
She’s so sweet it makes Mike want to burst into tears, that and the way Will is now pistoning inside him like there’s no tomorrow, like a fucking maniac. He bites back a whimper and re-adjusts his knees, praying that it’s not visible how fucked out he’s already starting to feel, how Will’s cum has stained the back of his boxers while his own dick drips pre-cum down the front. Will’s not going easy on him, seems to have really good leverage in whatever position he’s in because his thrusts are so powerful they’re almost punishing.
Mike offers Lara a weak smile and dives back in to muffle his moans between her legs, which is something he never — even on his worst acid trip — could’ve imagined himself doing. It’s insane the situations his life has led him to.
By some miracle it works, and Mike spends the next twenty minutes groaning onto her skin, trying his best to focus on making her cum. But ignoring the cock ramming into him is the hardest thing Mike’s ever done, especially now that he knows who it belongs to. The logic of how that’s possible isn’t something he’s even in the headspace to investigate right now. All he knows that it’s Will’s massive dick hitting his spot every time, making his entire body rock with pleasure and setting his nerves on fire. He starts humping the mattress half-way through, lightheaded from the fucking and the lack of oxygen.
Something is different this time though. Will starts off at the same brutal pace he did before, but he calms down after a while. His dick keeps dragging in and out of Mike, but slower, pressing on the sensitive skin of Mike’s insides as if Will is rolling his hips. It’s torturously luxurious, like Will’s bored and just rocking Mike’s entire world to pass the time. Fuck. Mike’s going to cum again.
By the time Lara finishes with a shout of his name, Mike barely remembers it himself. His vision is blurry from the tears, he can’t feel his legs, and his ass is numb because Will is still going. He feels so out of it Will might as well have been fucking him for hours. He’s intoxicated again, almost used to the constant stimulation now. Even just thinking about Will pulling out makes him clench at the phantom emptiness.
Will. Please. I love you.
Will hears him, because suddenly, Will’s cock stutters to life and starts jack-rabbiting with greater purpose. Mike bows onto the bed, clutching his hair and whining. Drool drips from his open mouth onto the sheets, and he can faintly register Lara’s concerned hands tugging at him, asking why he’s shaking so much, why he’s burning up, are you okay, Mike? Mike?
———
Will lies in a puddle of his own sweat, his sheets so far messed up they’re coming untucked at the edges. The toy is still clutched in his right hand, held up to his face because he can’t believe what just happened. He bites back a moan as the blanket brushes against his hyper-sensitive dick that he’s pretty sure is hexed today because he just came more than he probably ever has in his life, and still, his cock looks ready to rise again at the smallest stimulation.
He gapes at the toy and thinks about how he needs to get in touch with the designer because that thing feels too realistic. He’s always been a lost cause with making everything in his life about Mike but there’s no way he’s actually hallucinating the tight heat of Mike’s hole onto a piece of plastic. That’s biologically impossible. He runs a hand through his hair and finds it, unsurprisingly, also steeped in sweat.
It’s nearly half past 8. He needs to knock back some benzos and put himself to sleep, but… He stares at the toy again, turning it around and watching his cum drip along the insides like flakes in a snow globe. His dick twitches again at the sight and slowly, his other hand lifts itself and starts extending towards the flesh-light like it’s intending to go in. But Will hasn’t fallen that far into depravity to be fingering his own cum out of a sex toy, so he stops himself from doing that and jumps out of bed.
He needs hydration, a shower, and some serious help.
Yesterday had not been ideal, waking up snuggled in Mike’s chest had lulled him into a false sense of security. Then Mike had woken up, mouth twisted in a scowl, and asked what the hell Will was doing in his bed. Granted, Will had deserved that with the way he’s been treating Mike for a while now, snapping at him without really meaning to and then running away when he tried to get to the heart of the dark cloud hanging over Will’s head all month.
Still, Will’s always been sensitive to Mike’s moods, and even as a supposed adult, can’t stop the tears from stinging his eyes when Mike is upset at him. Mike had apologised instantly, earnestly, and asked Will what was wrong again. Will had tried to answer him, but then Mike looked so cozy in his pyjamas, sleep-mussed curls laid out against the sheets, and faint marks on his cheek from the pillow. So Will had jumped him. Sex with Mike was always good, and it was definitely much better than trying to parse out whatever is wrong with himself.
He rubs his temples and steps out of the shower, staring at his blotchy, wet skin in the fogged up mirror. Mike’s toothbrush is missing, which makes Will want to call him this instant and start sobbing loudly into the speaker. Instead, he drags himself to the kitchen and chugs the entire jug of water with a Tylenol. An ache in his head on top of the ache in his heart and the one between his legs might be too much, even for a sorcerer.
Predictably, images of Mike flash through his mind: Mike’s long fingers gripping the sheets and Will’s hair, tugging him closer, Mike’s swollen lips opening wide, his neck bobbing as he swallows Will’s spit, his neck twisted to reveal half of his face, tear tracks on his cheeks, his legs shaking as Will pulls out almost all the way to drive back in, Mike’s hands on the headboard, screaming for Will to go harder, show Mike who he belongs to, sweat and spit and cum everywhere, the room cloying up with the smell of sex, Mike’s wrists bound in Will’s belt, tears in his big, pleading eyes, a gag in his mouth soaked in drool, puppy ears bouncing on his head with every plunge, a choker, a cock cage, him smirking as he rolls his hips, wow, you’re really worked up today, aren’t you, baby?
By the time Will’s in bed again, he doesn’t even have to stroke himself. He moves on instinct, picking the cum-stained flesh-light back up and ramming into it. He sucks in a breath, throws his head back, and whimpers:
“Fuck, Mike.”
Call Will crazy but it really does feel like him. The heat, the pressure are so eerily similar Will’s imagination doesn’t even have to work all that much to picture Mike underneath him. He rolls over onto his stomach, grunting like an animal as greater waves of pleasure wrack through him the harder he thrusts. Mike always says sex is a great way to relieve stress or frustration, and Will lives by that because this is great. If Mike’s hell-bent on leaving him alone and pent up, this can be exactly what he’s going to do to retaliate.
He braces one hand against the headboard, holding the toy in place with the other and letting his hips tire themselves out. The sheets only get damper the more he sweats, feeling like he’s right on the precipice of an orgasm that never comes. Still, he keeps going, too addicted to the feeling of hitting Mike’s spot every time, Mike pleading with him to cum, that it hurts but it feels so good, please, please, Will. He imagines Mike wearing nothing but a collar, arching his back as Will tugs on the leash and tells him to be quiet and take it. Sees Mike in lace, pulling it to the side so Will can get to his hole. Feels Mike’s broad shoulders press him against the bathroom door, biting at the back of his neck and rutting into him until they both cum.
Will doesn’t realise he’s fallen asleep until the dream ends and he wakes up with his dick throbbing from spending so long inside the flesh-light, his wrist and legs cramping in the awkward position. With a ragged moan, he switches wrists and sits up, unable to stop himself from continuing to chase that orgasm. There’s drool caking on his jaw, tears all the way down to his neck, and so much heat in his gut he’s surprised he isn’t burning from the inside out. He must have been fucking the toy in his sleep, but he hadn’t cum, and god, he really wants to, if it’s the last thing he does.
“Will. Baby. Please. Take me. I want— I need you now.”
Will’s hips stutter, his ears ringing. “Mike. Mike, sweetheart— shit—”
“Leave me aching, leave me sore, darling. Please, I want to wake up sore.”
Will cums with a shout, collapsing flat onto his front. The pillow cover flutters with the violent gusts of breath leaving Will’s mouth. As with the first time, the toy milks him completely dry. He doesn’t plan to move for the rest of the night.
———
Achingly bricked up, sore, and disoriented, Mike manages to gather his belongings and his remaining pride. Lara is looking at him weird the entire time, but she’s still loopy from her own orgasm so she lets him go without much fuss. Mike grabs his bag off the floor, pulls his trousers back up, biting back a wince as his dick protests the restriction. He doesn’t bother to fix his face even though he’s sure it looks an absolute mess.
“Call me, Mike,” Lara purrs from the bed, her long hair laid out perfectly on the pillow, face positively blissed out.
Mike feels his brain rattle inside his skull as he nods and shuts the door. He leans back against it for a minute, ignoring the loud music downstairs in favour of trying to catch his breath. Nothing makes any sense. Every part of his body aches for Will, who’s nowhere to be seen. He’s probably already asleep, and has been this entire while that Mike’s delusional, desperate mind has been trying to convince him that the relentless, infamous ghost dick making him see stars belonged to his best friend.
Feeling pathetic as all hell, Mike trudges down the stairs and refuses to meet anyone’s eyes or high five the people trying to congratulate him on a successful hook-up. Lara was great, smart and interesting and incredibly pretty. But she wasn’t Will. Mike doesn’t want her. He wants Will.
On his way into the subway station, he accidentally shoulder-checks a girl with a platinum blonde bob. “Hey! Watch it, dickhead!” she snarls, throwing up her middle finger.
Mike giggles. Right. Dickhead. Like the one that had been pounding his prostate for what felt like hours earlier, that left him shuddering and begging with his ass stuffed full of cum and no release at all. That dick head.
The lights on the subway are extra bright today, the seats extra smelly. Or maybe Mike is just extra sensitive. It’s a thirty minute ride back home and he intends to sleep through all of it. He puts his bag in his lap, arms crossed over it, and tucks his head into them. No one ever told him how physically draining sex could be.
He dreams about Will wearing a cock ring, circling Mike with eyes so dark he looks possessed. He stops here and there to tighten some of the restraints, the ones around Mike’s wrists and his ankles, holding him in position, exactly the way Will likes.
“Will. Fuck me,” Mike hears himself whine, and in return, Will takes his vision away.
The blindfold is on the verge of too tight. He feels Will’s hot breath ghost over the side of his neck, Will’s tongue brush the shell of his ear. He bites his lips and goes to press his legs together, but he can’t move them, can’t move at all. He’s completely tied up and at Will’s mercy.
“Please, Will. I— I’ll do anything. Need you.”
Will doesn’t reward him with an answer, just something foreign nudging at his bare ass. Mike sucks in a breath, trying to relax and take whatever Will gives him, until the toy starts vibrating. Then his back arches of its own accord and he moans out loud, doing nothing but giving Will easier access to slide the vibrator all the way into his hole. Will makes him climax like that, working the toy in and out as his other hand tweaks Mike’s nipples, idles up and forces Mike’s mouth open. He doesn’t have to command Mike to suck when that’s instinct. Mike bobs his head, flattening his tongue to take Will’s fingers deeper. He moans himself hoarse because he knows it pleases Will to hear him lose his voice. Will does fuck him then, presses right in with the vibrator still up his ass. He’s completely lost in it, babbling for Will to keep going, that he’s so close again, telling Will he needs cum inside him until he’s fucked completely full of it.
“So good, baby. So— you fuck me so—”
Mike wakes up in a sweat, his hands balled in his lap so hard he has to work to unstick his fingers. He inspects the red, throbbing crescent shapes all over his palm and winces. Jaw cracking on a big yawn, he looks down to check for his bag, even though it’s late and this line is usually safe. His bag is there alright, but his eyes catch on the protrusion down the front of his trousers.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
He throws his head back against the glass, feeling his hips jerk forward with the rhythm of Will’s thrusts. Again. You know what they say about thirds and charms, Mike doesn’t quite have the brain capacity to remember right now. His burning eyes dart around, suddenly incredibly conscious that he’s not in the privacy of a room anymore. Needing immediate damage control, he grabs at the ratty old newspaper two seats down from him. He’s never stared at one so intently, never felt the need to although every morning, Dad and Nancy would sit exactly like he’s sitting right now: legs crossed, newspaper blocking their faces, and a cup of coffee steaming next to them.
“Will. God, please,” he mumbles, head hanging in defeat.
He’s so tired. It still feels so good. He shouldn’t like this. It’s crazy to enjoy the feeling of a disembodied dick burying into his asshole again and again, even crazier to be convinced that dick belongs to a particular body.
So it’s a Saturday night when Mike has to sit through the third batch of cum pumping inside him on the fucking subway. He has his legs pressed together, hands almost tearing the large newspaper that he’s not comprehending a single word of. Thankfully, there’s no one sitting in his row because they would have been able to clearly see Mike’s blissed out face covered in a sheen of sweat, bottom lip between his teeth, and a damp spot on his crotch where he’s trying his hardest not to cum and earn himself the mortifying experience of walking over to his apartment sticky and gross from the back and the front.
He almost cries in joy when Will doesn’t pull out this time but stays inside, keeping Mike stretched out around his huge shaft and the cum plugged up so it won’t trickle down the insides of Mike’s thighs. However, walking with a cock inside him is way more difficult than he anticipates. Good thing he’s too far gone to care about the side-stares he gets from people on the sidewalk that see him limping and stumbling along. They probably think he’s high out of his mind. He certainly looks the part. He just needs to get home, just needs Will.
He trips into their shared apartment, flinging his shoes off and blinking at the clock. He’s early. He’s not even supposed to be here. He told Will he’ll see him tomorrow. But he’s not thinking straight with the fat dick up his ass, so he walks straight to Will’s room and bangs the door open.
The sight of Will on the bed, cozied up under his fluffy pink blanket and reading a comic drives Mike to his knees. He feels the cock inside him jerk as Will sits up and puts the comic aside. His other hand stays suspiciously out of sight.
“Mike! You’re— Hi!”
———
Will watches as Mike crumples to the floor, unable even to hold his gaze. He realises with a jolt that the room probably reeks of sex and sweat with how long he’s been in here. There’s aftershocks from his last orgasm still raking through his body, but Will does his best to fight them off because there’s something wrong with Mike. He’s shaking much more than Will. He’s on the ground and he’s not getting up.
“Hey,” Will repeats, his voice soft and plenty worried.
He may have spent the entire day furious at Mike, cooking up a thousand different ways to punish him, but Will loves him to death. His comfort comes before anything else. So Will forgets about how frustrated, sexually and otherwise, he’s been all day. He forgets about his grudge and the flesh-light still encasing his dick, and calls to Mike.
“Hey, Mike. A— are you… okay? What’s wrong?”
Mike must find that incredibly funny because he starts chortling, breathing hard like he’d sprinted all the way here. Will’s heart beats in wild abandon inside his chest, from the relief that Mike’s not dying and the knowledge that he’d spent the evening fantasising a plastic hole was Mike. He brings a hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead and thinks about killing himself.
“Mike. I need you to say something, please.”
“What? What? Am I okay?! I’m at my fucking limit, dude,” Mike spits, and why the hell is he angry? He lifts himself up enough to glare at Will, both hands braced on the floor. Will’s breath catches at the lack of white in Mike’s eyes, his hair a wild halo around him. “You’re clinically insane.”
“What?” Will frowns, his own face red and shining.
A pang shoots through Will’s left hip and he shifts to relieve it. To his surprise, Mike shudders and curls in on himself. The toy seems to actually clench around him, and Will has the sudden preposterous thought that he’d just unintentionally driven his cock deeper into Mike, nudged against his no doubt overstimulated prostate. But that’s clinically insane, right? Each one of Will’s nerves is alive and jittery, his skin on fire, and his stomach churns as he fully takes in the state Mike is in. He truly doesn’t know what to believe, until Mike solves it for him.
“Three times, Will?” Mike grits out, hair casting a shadow over his face so Will can’t see it. But he can hear the edge in Mike’s tone loud and clear. “Don’t you seriously have anything else to do?”
“Wha—?”
Will’s mouth stays hanging open even when no further sounds leave him. The evening flashes through his mind like a race car, and he recalls every thrust, every orgasm, and the brief thought that his cum seemed to be disappearing into the flesh-light. The things he’d said to his empty room, bucking into the toy, convincing himself it was Mike. The things he’d done, not once considering the possibility that he’d actually been doing them to Mike.
“Mike. I— Um, I think I’m reading this wrong,” Will says, legs shaking underneath the blanket. He’s now hyper-aware of the scalding heat of the flesh-light, of Mike around him, and it’s making speaking very difficult. “You’re… are you saying that I’m—”
“Inside me. Yeah,” Mike confirms, nodding. His voice sounds more and more weakened by the second. Now that Will looks closer, Mike’s bottom lip is riddled with his own teeth marks and he’s shifting his hips slowly, almost imperceptibly, like he’s trying to get more friction. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Will. I can— fuck, please, I can feel you.”
“You can what?” Will’s eyes widen as he yanks his dick out of the toy.
Mike whines, sliding back onto the floor like a puppet behind closed curtains. Will jumps out of bed, not bothering to put on pants as he rushes to the side of the room. Behind his back, Mike’s quietly sobbing into his arms. Probably at the feeling of your cum leaking out of him, staining his pants, Will’s mind whispers. He’s only mortal. He can’t help the way arousal ripples through his body at the realisation that he’s the one that’s reduced Mike to a drooling, crying mess on the floor without even really touching him. Will can’t help wondering how much more he could do if he could actually get his hands on Mike.
“Oh my god,” Will mutters, rapidly flipping through the pretty baby pink manual that came with the flesh-light, hands shaking.
Both parties. In almost every second line, the manual mentions the toy being an erotic and enjoyable experience for both parties. Turns out being aroused beyond your wildest imagination doesn’t render you immune to feeling like a complete idiot.
“Oh shit. This is impossible.” He doesn’t look at Mike, suddenly incredibly embarrassed with himself. He feels depraved and selfish, even while his cock continues standing at complete attention. “Mike. This is… this is impossible.”
“I—” Mike starts, cutting himself off with a groan.
Will turns back to find him pushing himself upright again. That look in Mike’s teary eyes, Will would do anything for it. Inside his chest, his heart does a painful squeeze and he drops to his own knees a foot away from Mike.
Even coming from outside, Mike’s radiating so much heat it envelops them both like a blanket. It’s funny how even in a situation like this, just being closer to him makes Will feel comforted. Mike’s always encouraged him to be more selfish anyway, saying he deserves to take what he wants. Will’s gaze trails down Mike’s trembling body, his rumpled flannel and faded trousers, the obvious bulge between Mike’s legs. He meets Mike’s eyes, takes a deep breath, watches it hit the ends of Mike’s hair. If Will deserves to take what he wants, then he wants Mike.
“I know what I feel, Will,” Mike whispers, eyes stuck on Will’s lips. He’s sweating so much one could think he’s run a marathon, someone that doesn’t know Mike Wheeler and his extreme aversion to physical activity. But Will knows Mike, knows all this is because of him. All for him. He places a gentle hand on Mike’s right cheek, smiling when Mike leans into it.
“I know,” Mike repeats, voice soft and reverent like it’s not about to deliver one of the most crass sentences Will has ever heard from him. A vein jumps on the side of Mike’s jaw as he fidgets, moving his hips this way and that against the probably frustrating restriction of his pants. “I— mmnh, shit— I could feel a fat fucking cock ramming up my ass all day and I know it was yours.”
“That’s crazy,” Will says, hot all over with arousal. He pulls his hand away and stands back up. Mike looks so good from this angle it’s like he belongs there: kneeling obediently by Will’s feet.
“No shit, man. Jesus Christ. My ass hurts,” Mike whines, and it’s a mistake because it makes Will’s gut clench in desire. He wants to make Mike whine again, higher, with more oomph. Mike reaches both hands out to him, wriggling his fingers. “Help me up, baby. I need—”
“No.”
Mike’s mouth drops open. “I—”
His eyes widen as he takes in Will’s crossed arms, firm stance, faint smile that betrays his amusement. Mike’s brows furrow, chest rising and falling faster.
“Will,” Mike gulps, but doesn’t move. He smells of his own honey cologne, but also someone else’s, a foreign floral scent Will immediately dislikes. “What?”
“Stay,” Will commands easily, because he can, and because he’s got nothing to lose. No matter how hard he stakes his claim on Mike tonight, it seems he can’t make him stay, can never make him stop going on those stupid dates. So he grits his teeth and decides to devour what he gets. “Stay on the floor, baby. Now that you’re here, we can have some fun.”
With that Will turns to the side, walking back over to his bed, smile widening as he watches Mike’s eyes track his every movement. He likes Mike’s attention on him, just on him.
“Sit there like a good boy and,” Will dips his head, slowly stroking himself, his whole body on fire seeing the desire darken Mike’s expression, “watch me fuck into you.”
“Will,” Mike says, fists digging into his thighs, his skin so pale its flush is all the more visible.
Will twists his hand and groans, throwing his head back. “Michael.”
“Will,” Mike tries again, shaking just from the promise of Will inside him again. “Come on. I can’t—”
“You can’t?” Will raises an eyebrow, reaching a languid hand towards the toy, ignoring the way Mike rapidly shakes his head.
“I can’t— I can’t do this again, Will,” Mike stutters, transfixed by the flesh-light in Will’s hand, and Will realises with a jolt that this is Mike’s first time seeing it.
He smirks and positions it in front of his dick, letting Mike feel the tip. He fights back his own shudder, resisting the urge to sink in with every last shred of control he has.
“You’ve been— fuck,” Mike’s eyes squeeze shut as Will slowly pushes in, slower than he has the entire day, just to tease. Mike reacts like Will’s already gone all the way, spine straightening up with a jerk and one foot braced out in front of him like he’s going to get up. His eyes are blood-shot as he pleads, “I’ve been so good for you, bunny, please, I want— I’m so—”
“On your knees, Mike,” Will tuts, gesturing with his pointer finger, his other hand holding the toy in place. Another wave of pleasure crashes through him when Mike looks like he’s going to start crying again. Will’s having way too much fun with this. “I won’t say it again.”
“Oh, god,” Mike whimpers, rogue leg falling back into place as he sags.
He lets out a long, pained whine when Will bottoms out inside his tight hole for the fourth time this evening. Will doesn’t react, just drinks in Mike’s desperate grip on the bed, the tremble in his body, his tears about to fall. Will tilts his head, stroking his other hand down his chest, giving Mike a show and relishing in how much Mike obviously enjoys it. He lets out a moan of his own as he starts moving his hips, his thrusts shallow for now, but firm enough for Mike to feel and to react to.
“Bet you never get this angle, pretty boy,” Will teases, smiling at the tiny grunts and whimpers that start to leave Mike’s lips. They don’t break eye contact, Will laid back comfortably on his pillows and Mike on the floor by his bed. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. “You should be thanking me.”
“Will. Fuck me, please,” Mike begs, but it’s not nearly convincing enough with how frayed his words are, so quiet Will wouldn’t be able to hear them if there wasn’t complete silence in the room otherwise. Mike moans, bites his lip, and seems to be fighting his instinct to roll his hips back to meet Will’s movements. “No more, no more. I need you, Will. Need the real thing now.”
“This is real, Mike,” Will counters, words sickly sweet. “I can feel you, you can feel me. It’s my cock right there inside you. I’m aiming straight for your spot. You said you could feel it, didn’t you, darling?”
Mike gasps as Will pulls almost all the way out and impales him again. He’s shifted closer to the bed, so when he drops his forehead it bangs against the wooden edge. His sweaty bangs fall over his gorgeous face, hiding it from Will’s view. Will clicks his tongue, immediately snagging Mike’s attention.
“Uh-uh. Hold yourself up, Mike. You can do that much while I’m doing all the work.” He bucks into the toy again to demonstrate, feeling drunk on power. “Eyes on me.”
Mike sobs but does as he’s told, mouth hanging open so Will can see the drool rolling down his jaw.
“Look at you, sweetheart,” Will mocks, letting out a dry laugh and a groan as the toy sucks him in. “Used and filthy and still crawling back to me for more.”
“Did you have fun on your little date, Mike?” he asks, working himself up with his own words, jamming his cock in and out of Mike so he can feel just how frustrated he’d made Will all day. “Did you enjoy yourself without me?”
“Nngh— No,” Mike says, shaking his head, hair flying. He scrambles at the bed, nails digging into the sheets, breathing hard. His knees are bound to be hurting by now. “Missed you, missed you a— time— fuck, fuck, please—”
“Aw, you poor thing. You missed me? I’m sorry, baby,” Will coos, not apologetic in the least.
He may have been a couple minutes ago, just until he’d seen in Mike’s expression just how much he wanted this too, and then Will didn’t feel any remorse for fucking Mike three times without his explicit permission. From then on he’s only felt a burning, several voices in his head telling him to ram into Mike so hard he’s incapable of ever going for anyone else.
When Mike doesn’t respond beyond another moan, Will smiles.
“I’ve already fucked you stupid, haven’t I, puppy?” he asks and Mike can only whine in response, his gaze unfocussed. He reaches a hand out towards Will before it falls onto the bed, useless. Will sits up, rotates the flesh-light on his dick and watches Mike squirm at the unfamiliar sensation.
“You wanna be closer to me? Come here, then.” Will pats the sheets next to him, struck by sudden inspiration to see just how far the magic can take him. “On the bed, ass up. I wanna see something.”
It takes Mike a while to understand him, even longer to comply. The entire situation is not helped by the fact that Will doesn’t stop, keeps forcing his dick into the flesh-light, idly rolling it around inside, keeping both himself and Mike on the edge of pleasure. Mike shakes and shakes as he tries to rise to his feet, then gives up and resorts to crawling onto the bed on all fours. He stops with a loud moan when the stretch probably puts more pressure on his own neglected cock. Pleased, Will drives in again, making Mike’s arms buckle under his weight.
He falls face first onto the bed and Will moves, crowding him in from the back. He presses kisses to the sweaty curls over Mike’s nape, unbuttoning the front of Mike’s trousers with one hand while the other keeps holding the flesh-light in place. He can’t help it when he ruts forward and the end of the toy presses against Mike’s ass. Will can’t even imagine how that feels, being stimulated inside and out by the same dick, but he thinks it must be good because Mike positively sobs and crumples into the sheets.
When he finally gets Mike’s lower half naked and sees the dried up mess in Mike’s boxers, Will has to stop his movements, afraid that he’ll cum on the spot. The dark material is completely streaked in white, so much of it Will can’t even be sure how many orgasms Mike had had, completely untouched. Because of him. He growls and slams back into Mike, feeling electric, and the sight that he’s met with is one hundred percent worth this entire day’s suffering.
“Oh Jesus fuck, Mike,” he says, breathless, intoxicated, completely taken by Mike. “So pretty, baby. Your hole is—”
He brushes his fingertips over Mike’s stretched out rim, jaw dropped open at the obscene sight. He’s fucked Mike more times than he can count, but he’s never seen this: Mike’s hole completely pulled apart to reveal pink, glistening insides splattered with white. Will almost can’t believe he’s been deprived of this view all this time that they’ve been fucking the normal way, never knew his dick had been obscuring this treasure underneath it. It’s like he’s dreaming.
This position for railing Mike is also really comfortable. Will’s leeching off Mike’s heat, running his hands over his back and his waist. He can manoeuvre the toy much easier over his dick than he can an entire person. Which also means he can go so much harder.
Will really shouldn’t feel so cocky about it, but Mike’s got no real reason to be here, and still, he keeps crawling back to Will time and time again. He could have gone into his own room, into the shower, finished himself off and never spoken about this. Will would have never had the courage to bring it up himself. But no, Mike’s here, in Will’s room, with his face shoved into Will’s bed, breathing in his scent, ass up while Will humiliates him. Mike chose to be here, obediently holding himself up so Will can keep fucking into him and admiring his hole stretch each time. Cruel as it is, Will’s not even trying to make Mike cum, just to amuse himself for now. He’s trying to tame the green monster inside him that won’t stop chanting Lara’s name.
“Did you fuck her, Mike?”
Mike stutters, completely incoherent. He sucks in a ragged breath and moans again.
“I asked you a question, pup,” Will says into Mike’s ear, nosing the sensitive skin behind it, feeling the way Mike chokes on a sob. “You gonna answer me or am I going to have to fuck it out of you?”
“What— Wi— shit, shit, fuck—”
“Did you,” Will nips at Mike’s earlobe, pulling at it, “fuck Lara?”
Mike shakes his head. “N— nnh— no.”
“Are you sure? Cause you look like you did. Your hair is all messed up and you’re bathed in sweat, baby.” Will yanks Mike back by the hair, making him shout out Will’s name. “You know what happens when you lie to me.”
The accusation seems to snap Mike to attention. “Not lying, Will, please,” he says, words slurred and breathy. “I’m not— didn’t fuh— fuck her. She was blowing me when— ah, mmh— and then I—”
Will blinks and almost busts on the spot.
“Mike. Speak clearly.” He grabs Mike’s jaw, holding it firmly in place. More tears escape Mike’s eyes and he’s trembling so hard Will’s a little worried he’s going to give himself a concussion. “She had your dick in her mouth when you what?”
“When you— you started fucking me, Will,” Mike grits out, glaring back at Will, his eyes red and bleeding tears.
Will has no words other than, “Holy shit, Mike.”
He knows Mike must have returned the favour. He always does. So that means the second time, after Will’s shower…
“Yes,” Mike babbles like he’d read Will’s mind. “And then again, again, and again on the subway.”
Will’s so turned on he feels like someone’s smacked him over the head. To think he’d unknowingly been pistoning into Mike all this time while he was in bed with some other girl and then on the subway? Wow. Will had really spent the past three hours making Mike’s life difficult. That last thought shouldn’t excite him as much as it does.
“Not gonna fuck you for real today, baby,” he says, pulling back a little so he can roll Mike over onto his back. “This is your punishment for whoring yourself out to some other girl, okay?”
Mike looks absolutely ruined. There’s almost no white in his eyes, his entire face is glistening red, and he’s making loud, punched out noises with every thrust.
“Tonight, you’re my flesh-light. I’m going to cum in you one last time,” Will announces, caressing Mike’s face, pushing the hair out of Mike’s eyes, his movements gentle and a complete contrast to how rough he’s about to be. “So sit pretty for me and take it, darling.”
Mike obeys easily, slumps onto the bed like a ragdoll, shaking and crying as Will starts up his rhythm again, going as hard as he can. Mike screws his eyes shut, fingers twisting in the sheets. In between his moans and whimpers, he blubbers out something unintelligible. Will has to prod him to repeat himself.
“Hmm? What was that, angel?”
“—ig. So— god— so bi— big.”
Will smirks. “Big?”
“Ye— ah— nngh—”
“I can’t understand you, bug,” Will chides, reaching a hand out to grab Mike’s face again. “Open your mouth properly if you want me to listen to you.”
“You’re— oh, fuck you.” Mike takes in a shuddering breath as one of Will’s thrusts accidentally makes the end of the toy hit his bouncing cock. He keens. “Will, Will, I—”
Will laughs, wrapping one hand around Mike’s neck the way his other one is wrapped around the flesh-light. He presses his middle finger and thumb down, revelling in how Mike’s lashes flutter and another string of drool drips down his bottom lip.
“You look like such a cock-slut right now, Mike,” Will says, dipping his face so close to Mike’s they share the same air. He licks up Mike’s drool. “Moaning and crying on my dick. Fuck, baby. I haven’t even touched you.”
“Mmnh— N— No,” Mike says, and it’s adorable how he’s still trying to argue, even though he’s obviously far beyond the point of making any sense. “Touch— Will, you’re touching— haah— touching me everywhere.”
“Yeah?” Will smiles, proud of Mike for having put that sentence together. With the obscene sounds Mike is making, Will’s not going to last long. “You like how I’m touching you inside, doll? Like being my flesh-light?”
Mike nods hard, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Will. Will. I— mmh— I love it,” he says, all of him gorgeous and drowning in pleasure. “I lo— Will, I love you.”
That does it. Will can’t possibly be expected to hold out after Mike says the words he’s been dying to hear all week.
“I love you. Will, I love you.”
“Fuck yeah, you do. You love me, Mike,” Will spits, letting the monster take over, letting it all out. “You don’t love her. She can’t ever make you feel like this.” He shoots down again and traps Mike’s bottom lip between his teeth, tugging hard until Mike cries out. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
“Won’t, I won’t, I won’t, love you,” Mike chants, thrashing around.
Will smiles at Mike’s instant acquiescence, finally letting himself feel how close to the precipice he is, how his entire body is begging him for reprieve. The flesh-light is so wet it’s slipping from his grip and the holy trifecta of his wrist, his hamstrings, and his dick are screaming. Even after he’s cum more times than he can count today, now that he finally has Mike here, Mike beautiful and ruined underneath him, Will’s about to cum very, very hard.
He bites at Mike’s collarbone. “Cum for me, sweetheart. I love you so much.”
“Haah— aah— I lo— love you,” Mike wails, hands wrapping around Will and tugging him closer as his own back snaps up, “love you, love you, Will, Will!”
“Fuck, Mike!” Will moans, feeling Mike shoot all over his abdomen as he empties himself into the flesh-light. This time it’s evident how Mike clenches and milks every last drop out of him, seemingly content to take what Will decided to give him tonight.
Will rolls onto his side, trying to catch his breath. The toy falls out of his grip and onto the floor, forgotten in the post-sex haze. When he looks to the side again, Mike is already looking at him with half-open eyes, long eyelashes clumped together with tears. Will wipes them off for him, making Mike scrunch up his nose.
“Be—”
“Wi—”
“You first,” Mike whispers, folding his hands behind his back and pillowing his head on them. Will is almost jealous of how good he always looks lying in bed after a fuck, like some invisible hand has styled him to look effortlessly beautiful.
He shakes his head, nudging Mike’s arm. “No. What were you going to say?”
“You spoke first, Will. You go,” Mike says, one eyebrow raised. A challenge.
“You said I love you first. So you go,” Will retorts, seeing in Mike’s expression that he’s won the argument. He resists the urge to pump his fists and instead makes his eyes bigger, rounder, the way Mike says resemble a doe’s, the way Mike likes. “Or did you not mean it?”
“Of course I meant it, you asshole,” Mike replies fast, shaking his head.
For a moment after, he simply stares at Will’s ceiling, and just as Will’s about to start worrying he’s floating off somewhere Will can’t follow, Mike huffs. He turns fully onto his side, facing Will with one arm propping him up.
“I meant it. I always have,” he confesses in that special, soft tone of voice that makes Will’s heart sing. He sighs, takes Will’s hand, who can feel so much heat radiating off his cheeks. “I love you, Will. And I don’t know why we keep doing this to ourselves, but I don’t think we’re ever meant to be apart.”
Will shakes his head in agreement, making Mike smile.
“I was going to ask you to be mine again.”
“Me too,” Will says, sliding closer and hugging Mike’s chest. “I want you, Mike. I love you.”
Will smiles as Mike wraps his free arm around Will’s back, dropping his nose into Will’s sweaty hair and taking a deep inhale like the weirdo he is. Will smacks Mike’s shoulder. “Stop sniffing my hair, dude. I’m trying to tell you something.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Mike laughs. “By all means, continue. I’m listening.”
He pushes Will back onto the bed, rolling on top with a goofy grin all over his face. Will’s eyes go wide in anticipation of what he knows is coming, but he’s helpless to do anything but giggle as Mike attacks his entire face with kisses. When he opens his eyes again, the light is reflecting off Mike’s eyes in a way that makes it seem like they have actual hearts in them.
“You were saying how much you love me and regret letting me go,” Mike teases, tilting his head and rolling his eyes for dramatic effect, his curls tickling Will’s ears, “and how I’m so irresistible you just keep coming back to me and you just can’t stop thinking about me—”
“Oh my god. Shut up,” Will says, pressing both hands to Mike’s mouth. He cranes his neck up to press a kiss over them. “But yeah. Yes. To all of that.”
He takes his hands away, instead threading them in Mike’s hair, caressing them over Mike’s jawline, taking in every perfectly sculpted feature, letting himself relax knowing that it’s all his now.
“I love you,” he repeats, just to be clear. His hand stops at Mike’s neck, wrapping around it to tug Mike closer. “Delete Lara’s number.”
Mike’s answering grin is full of joy. “Never saved it in the first place, bun.”
Will hums, trapping his boyfriend in a firm hug, feeling very victorious. “Good boy.”