Archive of Our Own

If you had told 12 year old Will Byers that being roommates with Mike Wheelers would make him borderline homicidal, he wouldn’t have believed you. In fact, he probably would’ve laughed in disbelief. Even a few months before moving in together, Will wouldn't have believed it. He thought it would be easy, fun even. It took him approximately a week to realize it would be none of those things and come to terms with the fact that living with the boy he loves, not just in a best friend way, but in a soulcrushing, somewhat exhausting way that essentially consumes his every waking thought, is not, in fact, fun. He’s even tried to go down the it’s just a silly crush route, tried to convince himself, tell himself Will, it was really nothing, all of it. Don’t be ridiculous but nothing works. Living together resurfaces feelings Will thought he had long buried. 

So, it makes living with Mike slightly hellish. 

It wouldn’t be as much of a problem if everything in their apartment wasn’t so small besides Mike, with his long, lanky limbs that have a mind of their own and no sense for personal space. When they’re in the kitchen together, Mike is bumping up against Will’s hip, or knocking into his elbow as he cooks. Their tiny bathroom doesn’t even have room for more than one person, unless one of them is in the shower, which Will doesn’t even dare to entertain the thought of. Even their couch is small. It’s ratty, slightly disintegrating, and barely big enough to fit the two of them. It’s basically the crux of Will’s problem. The stupid couch. Because if Mike wasn’t long and big in every way possible, if he just sat like a normal person, they could fit comfortably together, and Will would be able to watch the TV or read a book without feeling the smothering heat of Mike pressed into his side. 

The problem is that Mike doesn’t sit like a normal person. He flings himself down onto the couch and spreads his long legs wide, far too wide to be sitting with another person. His knees will bang into Will’s, their outer thighs smushing together uncomfortably. Will tries to make himself small, he really does, pushes himself into the corner of the couch, crosses his legs together, tries not to feel the delicious heat that Mike throws off, but it’s nearly impossible. The invasion into his space always makes him feel like he’s going to combust, and the urge to crawl into Mike’s lap gives him a dizzying, nauseating head rush every single time. Mike’s lack of awareness of the way Will is dying inside, at the way his touch makes Will want to hurl himself into oncoming traffic, is really the cherry on top of the shitty cake Will has been eating ever since they moved in together.

He blames it on the couch. It might end up being the death of him. 

It’s been bothering Will for weeks before he actually says anything. Mike catches him on a bad day; work had been long and his boss had grilled him for being five minutes late. It had rained on him on the way home and he had no umbrella. And he dropped the keys into an dubious puddle of gunk outside their apartment. It was a terrible, no good, truly rotten day, and Will just wants to relax and read his book until he maybe falls asleep on the couch, but as usual, he can never have nice things.

“Hey,” Mike says as he turns the corner from the kitchen. He has a handful of crackers cradled in his open palm and looks far too cheerful for the way Will feels like he’s boiling from the inside right now. Will grunts as his only response, trying hard to focus on the words on the pages in front of him. They swarm in front of him, unable to pierce through the static in his head. Mike lets out a snort and flops down on the couch next to him. “How was work?” 

Will flits his eyes up from his book briefly, heart skipping pathetically at the way Mike watches him intently, like he’s studying every move that Will makes. While most people ask that question out of sheer politeness or small talk, Mike looks so earnest, so eager to hear how Will’s workday actually was. It makes some of the ice encasing his heart melt away. Just a little. 

“It was…” Will starts, tossing words around in his mind. “Alright.” 

“That bad, huh? Tell me about it?” Mike asks, shoveling the rest of the crackers into his mouth and spilling crumbs down his front and on the couch cushions in the process. Just like that, Will feels himself becoming annoyed again. He takes a deep, steadying breath, and forces himself to not lose his mind over a few crumbs. 

Just when Will has finally brought his blood pressure down a bit, he feels the couch shift underneath them. Mike lets out a sigh as he makes himself comfortable, spreading his legs into a wide sprawl and leaning back onto the couch. His legs immediately are pressed against Will’s and the heat, the pure invasion, makes Will’s final straw snap right in half. 

Will huffs out a loud sigh, shooting up from the couch and clutching his book tight to his chest. Mike’s eyebrows shoot straight up to his hairline, mouth open midway through his chewing. 

“What’s wrong?” Mike asks, but it’s muffled through his mouthful of food. He shifts slightly on the couch, Will’s abrupt movement giving him extra space to spread his legs even wider. Will wants to strangle him. He also wants to kiss him silly. Neither of these things are new urges.

“What’s wrong is that-” Will starts, but he hears how hot his voice sounds, watches the way Mike’s face contorts in shock and confusion, and pauses. He can be an adult about this. “It’s rude, Mike. This.” 

Will gestures to Mike’s open legs haphazardly. Mike furrows his brows and looks so much like a kicked puppy that it makes Will’s heart wilt. “What is?” 

“Your… manspreading,” Will says, his face immediately flushing as the words pass through his lips, like speaking them somehow gave them a life of their own. He tries hard not to look at the inviting space between Mike’s legs. 

“Manspreading,” Mike repeats blankly. His kicked puppy expression has shifted into something unreadable. 

“Yes, Mike. Manspreading,” Will continues, feeling the fire of irritation reignite in him at Mike’s blissful vacant expression. “It just - it takes up so much space.” 

Mike blinks at him, before a slow, lazily, shit-eating grin spreads across his face. “I need the space, Will. For…you know.”

Will’s mouth dries out as his gaze instinctively drops to where Mike’s legs are spread wide, practically taking up the whole couch at this point. Through Mike’s baggy sweatpants, Will can just barely make out a bulge, soft, but still startlingly obvious now that his attention has been called to it. He just barely fights the urge to fall to his knees, to crawl into the inviting space between Mike’s legs, and take Mike’s cock out to see how big it really is. He wants it in his mouth, on his lips, undoubtedly heavy and thick and ruining Will for anyone else. The urge comes on so strongly it’s almost violent, and Will barely bites the desperate whine bubbling up in his throat.

Suddenly, Mike clears his throat, startling Will out of his trance-like state that he’d fallen into. The smile on his face makes something heat up inside Will, and he has to frantically reel his brain back in from thinking completely inappropriate thoughts about his best friend again. He makes a conscious effort to keep his eyes focused on Mike’s and not let his gaze flick back to Mike’s lap on shameless display, tries to hold his ground and keep being mad, make a point out of this ridiculous conversation, but his stomach flutters anyway. 

“I have a dick too, Michael,” Will says, hoping Mike doesn’t notice the way his voice shakes. “You don’t see me sitting like that, do you?” 

“Will, uh - it’s different. For me,” Mike says, looking like he’s barely holding back laughter and gesturing lightly to his lap. Something dangerous swirls inside Will. 

“There’s no way your dick is that big,” Will blurts out before he can stop himself. He clamps his mouth shut, surprising himself with his own bluntness. He’s actually feeling slightly proud of himself for being able to talk about Mike’s dick without spontaneously combusting, but then he looks at the expression on Mike’s face and it all falls away. 

Mike stares at him, really stares, eyebrow quirked in a way that says actually, it really is that big. And Will, he’s only a human, and can’t help it when his gaze flicks down to Mike’s lap, and starts salivating a little bit. He swears, if he squints, he can actually make out the damn thing, long even as it lays soft (dear God, that’s soft?!) against Mike’s thigh and hidden by the thinning sweatpants. Before his mind can start flooding with dirtyhotwrong images, Will reluctantly tears his gaze back up to Mike’s. When he looks back up to Mike, he’s smirking. Will wants to kill Mike. Then himself. 

He can’t fight the way his face immediately heats up, and lets out an annoyed huff, before stomping out of the room. He hears Mike chuckling to himself in the living room, undoubtedly sprawling to an even more obscene degree now that he had the room to do so. Will locks himself in his room and flings himself on the bed, groaning and fighting the urge to throw himself out of a window. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop thinking about the look on Mike’s face and wondering how big Mike really is. 

That night, Will sleeps terribly. His dreams are full of Mike, which wouldn’t be anything new, if it wasn’t for the frankly filthy things Will starts imagining Mike doing in the dreams. He imagines Mike taking his cock out, stroking it to full hardness, just letting Will watch as he makes himself feel good. Mike doesn’t even do anything to him in the dreams, doesn’t even say anything, just watches him, his hand lazily passing over his ridiculously big dick. Pathetically enough, he wakes up hard enough to cut glass either way. 

It sort of spirals out of control after that. When he wakes up in the morning, the first thing his stupid brain helpfully reminds him of is the way Mike smirked at him as he gestured to his lap, or, if Will is really unlucky, another dream about Mike’s cock. Throughout the day he’s distracted, to a frankly disturbing degree, by thoughts of getting on his knees for Mike, trying to take it all into his mouth. He doesn’t know if he’s more excited by the thought of being able to take it all at once, or failing to. When he gets home he has to avoid Mike, and if he can’t (small apartment, truly Will’s downfall), avoid eye contact at all costs - it’s the only thing separating Will from imagining what Mike’s gaze would look like if he spread Will’s legs and pushed his dick inside Will.  And in the dark of night, when Will is truly at his most depraved, his most shameless, he gently teases his entrance, never entering, just wondering, thinking, imagining. He imagines how Mike would be worried that it wouldn’t fit inside, or how Mike would have to go slow at first, to let Will adjust. He often imagines that Mike is big enough that his cock would be a constant press against Will’s sweet spot, and that every thrust would be pure, toe-curling pleasure. 

It’s more than an obsession. It’s unhealthy, embarrassing. Disgusting. 

Part of Will hopes that maybe Mike was kidding. Exaggerating, maybe. It might make it better, if it was just a joke, just guys being dudes. Then, maybe, Will could move on with his life.

If Will had to be cautious before, he has to be meticulously careful now. It’s almost like Mike is purposefully going out of his way to make it harder for Will (no pun intended). He started taking to walking around the apartment after he showers for hours with just a skimpy little towel hung low on his waist, revealing the slender cut of his stomach and a small trail of hair leading down to no man’s land. Will actively has to stop himself from foaming at the mouth at the sight, and that’s not even the worst of it all. Mike wears grey sweatpants practically everyday that leave nothing to the imagination. He makes comments at the grocery store about how they need the biggest bananas in stock (“For extra vitamins!”). He’ll randomly decide they need to compare hand sizes (for science, of course) and will press their palms together in a way that makes Will swoon pathetically and try not to pass out at the sight of Mike’s long, pale fingers dwarfing his own. Once, Mike had even mumbled, “guess I’m just bigger everywhere” and Will truthfully, honestly, almost died on the spot.

Will thinks he might end up killing Mike. Or worse, he might end up falling to his knees and begging Mike to whip it out, and cry for Mike to please show him his apparently massive dick. It would be utterly humiliating. He’d probably need to change his name, move to a new state. And he really doesn’t have the money for an identity change right now. 

So, Will uses his masterfully crafted avoidance skills to dodge Mike, to avoid eye contact, and for the love of god, stop staring at Mike’s crotch. All things considered, Will thinks he’s doing a pretty good job. That is, until one faithful night. 

Will handles his liquor relatively well, especially for someone who doesn’t drink that much, but that night he gets drunker than usual. He feels like he needs it, like it’s his reward for not falling to his knees and sucking Mike off until he comes down Will’s throat, and finds himself getting drink after drink, until the whole world starts to blur a little around the edges. It doesn’t help that he can’t help but watch Mike from across the bar, taking in his sharp cheekbones, his boyish smile, the hair that’s falling into his face because it’s getting a little too long.

Because even though Will’s current Mike-related hyperfixation is his cock, it, of course, doesn’t mean he can’t stop looking at, loving, obsessing over the rest of him.

Besides the emotional turmoil that overpowers his every sense, it’s a fun night, something he desperately needed, and he feels like he’s floating on a cloud, even as he’s stumbling home through the dark, damp streets. The alcohol has given him a serenity and unworriedness that Will hasn’t possessed (especially relating to Mike) in a very, very long time, and he hardly even freaks out about the fact that he’s arm-in-arm with a very giggly, very touchy Mike. 

Mike seems to be unwilling to release his grip on Will, which, even through the cloud of the alcohol, Will’s heart flutters at, and struggles to unlock the door. When they finally make it into the sanctuary of their apartment, they’re red faced and light headed, and Will slides down to the floor, no longer able to keep himself up right. 

“Will, Jesus-” Mike chokes out, face flushed with alcohol and laughter. He looks so beautiful it’s unfair. Will has to bite his lip hard to stop himself from saying as much. Mike slams his back into the wall next to Will, before he’s clumsily landing on the floor next to Will, grinning. “You are so drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk,” Will protests. He isn’t anymore, truly, he’s just a little fuzzy around the edges, blissful, not thinking about all the worries of the past couple weeks. Mike blinks at him slowly, looking like Will has the secrets of the universe. Despite his best efforts, it makes something twist painfully inside Will, knowing that he’s on the receiving end of all that affection, with nowhere to put it. “You’re drunk, Mike.”

Mike doesn’t seem particularly drunk, but the alcohol has made him happy and light, and he merely laughs, tilting his head back against the wall. The long slope of his neck is hypnotizing, and Will wants nothing more than to crawl into his lap and press his lips into that soft flesh until it’s covered in marks. Until he’s undeniably, irrevocably claimed by Will. He gulps, trying to force the nagging thought down, but it stays in his mind, loud and swarming. 

“You’re quiet,” Mike notes softly, lowering his gaze to meet Will’s. His voice takes on the pitch that it only does whenever Mike talks specifically to Will. The Will voice, as Max says, as though the very concept of something of Mike’s existing solely for the purpose of Will isn’t enough to set his very soul on fire. How is Will not supposed to be in love with Mike when he talks to him like he’s precious, when he looks at him like he hung the stars and moon? Mike clears his throat pointedly, startling Will out of his silence. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m okay,” Will answers, forcing himself to maintain Mike’s searing level of eye contact even though it’s killing him. It’s not technically a lie, but it feels like one anyway. He is okay, this level of love for Mike, of wanting something he can never have, is nothing new for him. He’s learned to live with it. 

Mike hums in response, seemingly convinced for the moment, before he pushes himself up to stand, staggering to the kitchen wordlessly. Will blinks at the empty spot next to him, trying not to mourn the warmth, the phantom closeness. He only has to try for a few moments though, because Mike is suddenly back in front of him, casting darkness where he stands over Will. Will looks up, immediately feeling heat flush through him at the way Mike looks down at him, at how powerful Mike looks. At how, if Will just sat up a little bit more, maybe got into a kneel, he’d be eye level with Mike’s dick. 

And just like that, Will’s blissful bubble of not-thinking-of-Mike’s-dick is rudely popped.

Mike clears his throat again, before he’s thrusting something yellow and long into Will’s hand. Will blinks down. A banana. He stares up at Mike, whose expression is unreadable, looking a little otherworldly with the entrance light haloing around his head. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Will says hoarsely, after much effort. Mike quirks a brow at him, slowly unpeeling his own banana and biting down on the tip. Will can feel his palms dampening with sweat, his heartbeat picking up rapidly at the sight. 

“Doing what?” Mike asks through a mouthful of food. He raises the offending banana into the air with a smile. “It’s a preemptive hangover cure.” 

Will has never heard such a thing, but he doesn’t bother telling Mike that, just barrels forward, emboldened by the alcohol and the weeks of pent up suffering and desire. “Mike, it’s phallic.” Will says miserably.

“So?” 

“So?!” Will exclaims. “Do you not remember the conversation we had?” 

Suddenly Will worries that he’s said too much, that he’s exposed himself and the fact that he’s been obsessively thinking about Mike’s dick for the past month, but then Mike grins down at him and his brain flatlines. “You mean about my dick?” 

“Mike!” Will squawks. He hopes it comes off as scandalized and disgusted, but is also terrified that the rising blush on his face is enough to reveal everything. 

“What? That’s what you meant, isn’t it?” Mike asks with a shrug, casual, like they’re talking about the weather. Will lets out an undignified splutter and Mike chuckles. “I didn’t realize it bothered you so much.” 

“I - it doesn’t,” Will starts, feeling mildly hysterical. He hopes that neither of them will remember this conversation tomorrow, but somehow he doubts that. They’re nowhere near drunk enough to forget this and besides, the universe would never be so kind to him. “I mean it’s subjective isn’t it? What does big even mean, really? There’s no way-” 

He cuts himself off, avoiding elaborating further, fervently praying that lightning will strike him down or that the earth will swallow him whole. He can’t believe how he’s rambling, how he’s talking about Mike’s cock so unabashedly, basically waving a banner around that says 'I've been thinking about your cock on a near constant basis, please let me blow you!’ He wants to die. Mike quirks his brow, an unreadable expression on his face.

“If you wanted to see it, you just had to ask,” Mike says, any humor gone from his voice and replaced with something Will’s never heard - something dark and low and heated. Will’s mouth drops open and before he can tell Mike to stop messing around before he actually bursts into flames, Mike is popping open the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. 

With a deft maneuver that Will is way too stunned to make out, it only takes another second for Mike’s cock to be out. Out in the air of their apartment. In front of Will. In front of Will’s face, making direct eye contact with him, making it so he’s practically hypnotized. 

Even from where it’s peaking out of Mike’s jeans, it’s noticeably bigger than Will’s. It’s thick and girthy and long, practically bending with its own weight. It’s easily the biggest dick Will has ever seen, and not only that, but it belongs to Mike. Straight Mike. Will’s Mike. Mike that Will is in love with. Will can't breathe.

Will blinks up at Mike, his brain filled with a static and fuzz that makes it hard for him to form a cohesive thought. Mike looks down at him, eyes dark and serious, and Will feels his mouth filling up with saliva as he literally drools for Mike’s cock in front of him. Mike sighs, like something has disappointed him, and mumbles, “Well, it is soft.”

Will almost laughs at the absurdity of it. Like it’s not huge, even soft. Like this isn’t the object of his every desire for the past month. When Will opens his mouth, he’s not sure what he’s expecting to come out, but certainly wasn’t planning on saying, “It is. So that doesn’t really count.”

It does count, and they both know it, but Mike doesn’t point that out. 

“Okay,” Mike only says in response. Instead of laughing it off like Will thought Mike would, Mike wraps a hand around his cock and slowly starts stroking at it. Will feels his entire brain short-circuit as he watches Mike’s dick harden right in front of him. It takes seconds, only a few strokes, before Mike is fully hard, making little wounded noises in his chest with every tug. And god, his dick is not only unfairly bigger when it’s hard, but it’s veiny and wet, the round, bulbous head dripping precum onto Mike’s jeans. The worst part is that Mike won’t look away, just keeps staring right into Will’s eyes like he can see into the very core of his being as he makes little grunts and moans in the back of his throat.

Will thinks he might be dead and this is heaven. Or that this is hell, one where he can see Mike’s big beautiful cock and isn’t able to touch it, or wrap his lips around it, or have it dragged across his lips. He can feel his own dick straining painfully against the zipper of his suddenly too-tight pants and lets out an involuntary whimper. 

Mike’s eyes immediately snap down to Will’s lap, undoubtedly landing on the obvious bulge. Will feels panic jolt through him. Even though Mike knows he’s gay and has been supportive, surely this crosses the line, doesn’t it? Getting hard at watching your best friend jerk himself to hardness? Basically asking your best friend to jerk himself to hardness? Will is about to open his mouth to stutter out apologies, when Mike tilts his head and asks, “Aren’t you going to take care of that?” 

Will feels like he’s been possessed, like a horny and reckless spirit has completely taken over his body and thrown any hesitancy or embarrassment out the window. His hands seem to be moving on their own accord, and before he can stop himself, he’s fumbling with his own zipper and letting his own dick spring out into the cool air. 

Mike lets out a little gasp, like he didn’t actually expect Will to follow through, and his hand starts moving faster on his cock. It’s dizzying, it’s every single wet dream Will has ever had and more, and Will only has to wrap his hands around his dick before he’s staggeringly close to coming. 

“Will,” Mike says, his voice dangerously close to a whine. Will bites back a wanton noise threatening to bubble out at the way Mike says his name like that, like Will is putting his hands on him, like Will is getting him off. Will wants nothing more than to replace Mike’s hand with his own, to stick his tongue out and catch the precum that flies out wetly. He wants to put his mouth on Mike just to see how much he can take, to hear more of those delicious little noises Mike keeps letting out. Electricity shoots through him at the thought, and he moans out desperately, frantically grasping the base of his cock and forcing himself to not immediately spill all over his hand. Mike’s eyes flick to the motion, and his hips stutter, letting out another stuttered groan. “Will - fuck - you’re so hard.” 

“So are you,” Will responds immediately, like it’s not obvious, like Mike’s cock isn’t ridiculously thick and throbbing and perfect in front of him. His voice is so breathy and whiny he barely recognizes it as his own. He suddenly feels shockingly, alarmingly close to coming, even though he’s barely touched himself. “Mike, I’m gonna-” 

“Me too,” Mike says. He gives a twist of his wrist that has his hips stuttering dangerously close to where Will is sitting and Will can barely fight the urge to lean forward and let his desires take over. “Shit, shit, shit-” 

It’s all Mike can grit out before he’s coming without warning, his hot release splattering all over Will’s face and chest. Will lets out a startled, wrecked moan, his back arching taut off the wall, desperate to be closer to Mike, to feel more of his come all over Will, claiming Will. He fights through his haze, sees Mike blinking down at him, with his ridiculously big dick softening in his hand, chest heaving, and for a moment, Will can imagine what Mike would look like after Will sucked him off, and Will loses it - whining and jerking desperately into his fist as he spills all over his shirt and stomach. 

For a moment, Will loses all awareness of where he is, of what he’s doing, and who he’s doing it with. His vision practically whites out, his heart pounding desperately in his chest as he rides out the last twitches of his orgasm. When he finally comes to again, he opens his eyes to find Mike still staring down at him, still holding his dick, and Will feels his spent cock twitch desperately at the sight. 

“Mike…” Will starts, but cuts himself off, suddenly feeling very unsure of himself. The desperation and sheer need has worn off, replaced with something oily and unpleasant swirling in his stomach. He’s hyperaware that Mike’s come is still on his face, but is too frozen to bring himself to wipe it off. 

“Let’s - uh,” Mike says, clearly unsure of himself as well. He finally takes his hand off his cock, offering it to Will to help him off the ground. Will blinks up at Mike, then back to his hand, where he can still see Mike’s wet release. At Will’s hesitation, Mike looks down at his own hand and flushes, all red and rosy and laughably, inappropriately endearing for the situation. Mike wipes his hand on his jeans, offering Will his clean hand. Will feels a burst of delirious laughter bubble up inside him at the absolute absurdity of the situation, but it’s quickly overtaken by the dread that floods his entire body at the seriousness of what they did. 

Will sighs and grasps Mike’s hand, trying not to melt into the warmth or think about how big and all encompassing Mike’s hand is compared to his own. He pulls himself up to stand, immediately mourning the loss of contact as he reluctantly slides his hand out from Mike’s grasp. His legs feel slightly like jelly, and he leans on the wall to steady himself and put some distance between him and Mike. It feels too dangerous to be this close to Mike right now. 

“You have - uh, shit,” Mike starts, frowning at the mess on Will’s face, before he uses the sleeve of his shirt to gently wipe the drying come off. Will feels like his heart might’ve briefly stopped, like his lungs forgot how to pump oxygen, and stares at Mike, mouth agape. 

“Thanks,” Will finally says, breathless. Mike blushes, like he hadn’t quite realized what he had done.

“Should we-” Mike stutters out, his arm still awkwardly outstretched. If Will didn’t know anymore, he’d say Mike was fighting the urge to reach out and touch him again. The look in his eyes is so full of need, it makes Will’s knees buckle slightly. But Will does know better, and he knows that if anything, Mike is probably feeling mortified by the whole situation. That Will, obviously for a different reason, will probably be mortified in the morning as well, once the alcohol and postorgasmic bliss wears off. 

“Bed?” Will supplies, trying to push himself off the wall. The room feels slightly like it’s spinning, and he knows it’s not just from the alcohol. 

“Yeah, let’s go to bed,” Mike sighs out, sounding relieved. He moves slow and uncertain, like he’s trudging through water, before he halts, his face flushing red again. “Separately, though! Obviously.” 

“Yeah, separately,” Will says slowly. His brain, currently liquid and pouring out of his ears, struggles to push down the images of falling into bed with Mike, of their legs tangled together, of breathing the same air as they fall asleep together. “Obviously.”

“Cool,” Mike laughs out, but it sounds too strained and nervous to be genuine. 

“Cool,” Will echoes, even though it’s very much not cool. He quickly turns on his heel and practically sprints into his bedroom so he doesn’t have to look at Mike and wonder what the hell he got himself into. 

The next morning Will wakes up with a devastating hangover that’s more from sheer mortification than alcohol. He can’t believe he let things get that far, that he possibly ruined a lifelong friendship just for a sneak peak at Mike’s dick. He spends practically the whole morning in bed, praying that maybe he’ll just disappear into the mattress or that Mike will go out and leave him to his own misery for the rest of the day, but he can hear Mike puttering around in the kitchen, humming to himself, and knows he has to face this. If he’s lost Mike for good, he’d rather get it over with fast. Ripping the bandaid off and all that. 

When he exits the safety of his bedroom, the first thing he notices is the smell of bacon and coffee swirling in the air. Will inhales deeply, his stomach immediately rumbling and forcing his feet into the kitchen. Even if it means facing Mike. 

Mike has his back to Will, the broad muscles of his back shifting under his t-shirt. Despite himself, Will feels his mouth dry out, suddenly shockingly desperate to place his hands on Mike’s back, feel the heat, the strength radiating off, and never let go. 

“Hey,” Mike says, not turning around from where he’s facing the stove. “Making breakfast. Want some?” 

It’s not a great sign that Mike won’t look at him, but he tries not to read too much into it. After all, Mike is making breakfast, and Mike never cooks. 

“What’s the occasion?” Will asks, shuffling into the room on socked feet. He immediately cringes, regretting drawing attention to things being out of the ordinary or different between them. 

“Can’t a guy cook?” Mike chuckles, turning around to face Will with a plate of food and a steaming cup of coffee. He looks sleepy, hair tousled in every direction, glasses skewed slightly on his face. Will feels something twist uncomfortably inside him. “It’s just bacon and toast anyway. Nothing special. You know that’s all I can make.” 

“Thanks,” Will croaks out. He takes the plate from Mike’s hand and tries to ignore the way his heart skips a beat when their fingertips brush. 

“Welcome,” Mike answers easily, shoveling three pieces of bacon into his mouth and sliding into their kitchen table. His legs immediately spread wide where he’s seated and Will’s mouth practically waters. He wants to push the table to the side and clamber into Mike’s lap, knees bracketing Mike’s hips. He can practically taste the phantom feeling of Mike’s firmness underneath him, of Mike’s hands, steady and stabilizing, gripping his hips. He knows that, if he could, he’d spend every second of the day in Mike’s lap, even eating breakfast together. Will shivers somewhat deliriously then immediately internally kicks himself. He really needs to get a grip to avoid another disaster of last night happening again. 

Will scowls as he moves to sit across from Mike, pointedly avoiding his eyes. 

“So,” Mike says through a mouthful of food. Will’s heart skips a beat in anticipation of what Mike is going to say next. “You’re going shopping with Max and Jane today, right?” 

Will blinks. He wasn’t sure what he expected Mike to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. He was thinking it was going to be more like you disgust me or I hate you and I’m moving out or you’re a freak and I’m going to tell everyone how obsessed you are with my dick. Also, I know you’ve been in love with me since forever. Mike looks at him curiously, and for a moment, Will wonders if Mike doesn’t remember. If Will has somehow been cursed with the knowledge of what his best friend’s cock looks like, of what he looks like when he comes, but has also been blessed with Mike not remembering. Of it being something that exists solely in his head. 

Mike clears his throat, frowning at Will’s silence and tilting his head. Will shakes himself out of his daze, somewhat giddy at the prospect of not having to deal with the fallout of last night, of it potentially being completely swept under the rug and never brought up again. “Uh - yeah. Yeah I am.” 

“Cool,” Mike says, taking a long sip of his coffee, letting out a pleased little hum. His pause is just drawn out enough that Will starts remembering other pleased noises that Mike makes. His brain unhelpfully supplies him with an shuddering echo of Mike's little whimpers and moans, of what Mike sounds like when he's close. Will shudders, and Mike continues, seemingly blissfully unaware. “Take my card.”

“What?” Will asks, unable to hide the shock and pure confusion in his voice. 

“Take my card,” Mike repeats, not a suggestion but a demand. As much as it makes Will feel embarrassingly warm and gooey inside, it’s also completely absurd and out of left field. 

“Mike, I couldn’t-” He starts, but Mike holds up his hand and Will falls silent. 

“You could. And you should,” Mike cuts him off firmly. He rips off a corner of his toast, dabs it in the leftover bacon grease. “It’s no big deal. Really.” 

Will wants to say that it is a big deal, that this isn’t something normal best friends do for each other, it’s something couples do for each other, something a boyfriend would do. His throat closes up dangerously tight and shoves a piece of toast into his mouth to avoid accidentally saying everything his helpless brain is thinking. 

“Besides, it’s pretty big,” Mike says casually. Will almost chokes on his food.

“I’m sorry?” Will coughs out, feeling like he must’ve missed a step or two in their conversation, or that maybe Mike has decided that he actually does want to talk about last night. 

“My credit limit?” Mike answers innocently, tilting his head in a confused puppy way, seemingly completely oblivious to the way Will’s heart is pounding in his chest. 

“Oh!” Will can feel his face heating up to a dangerous degree. He wants to die. “Of course, well, I - uh, I don’t know-”

“I do,” Mike says firmly, pushing himself to stand. He moves to the kitchen counter where his wallet is sitting and fishes out his credit card, before placing it on the table in front of Will. “I insist.” 

“O-okay,” Will stutters out. His heart is doing somersaults in his chest as he shakily reaches out to take the card and slide it into his pocket. It feels like it’s burning a hole into his skin. 

“Thank you,” Mike says contently, like Will is doing him a favor. They finish their food in silence, with only the buzzing in his head stopping Will from thinking about his big credit limit and big dick. 

The next couple weeks pass agonizingly slow, mostly because Will is spending his energy either thinking about Mike or hating himself for thinking of Mike. His brain loops to that night on a near constant basis, unable to stop thinking about how girthy and long Mike was, how his dick was almost drooling with precum, making dirty, wet noises every time Mike stroked it. And Mike’s expression is tattooed in his brain - how his face screwed up like he was in pain, how he’d look down at Will with dark, hooded eyes as he jerked himself to completion. He’s losing sleep over it. 

The worst part is that Mike seems to be either completely unbothered by it, or doesn’t even remember, because he acts no differently. Maybe it was totally normal behavior for friends, no best friends to do, and Will is being the unreasonable one here. Or maybe Mike was too drunk to remember. But Will was definitely more drunk, and he remembers it perfectly - it’s practically burned into his retinas. He feels cursed, like he’s being punished for wanting. 

Sometimes, if he thinks about it too hard, the reality of what he did, of the fact that he succumbed to the urges he’s been trying to push down for so long, and basically took advantage of Mike, literally starts to eat him alive. He almost wishes Mike hated him for it. It would be what he deserves. 

Eventually, Will accepts the fact that he’s maybe just crazy and that he actually did imagine the whole thing.  He tries to tell himself that it easily could’ve been just a trick of the alcohol, or some type of fever dream. It feels so distant, so far away, that Will convinces himself there can be no other explanation, even though, in the back of his mind, he knows it’s not. He’s always been pretty good at lying to himself though, and actually manages to somewhat convince himself of these things until one faithful day when Will realizes the universe might actually have it out for him. 

It’s a quiet Saturday, and Will has dared to venture out of the safety of his Mike-less bedroom for a change of scenery. And because he’s a little bit of a masochist and knows Mike is home. Still, when Will sees Mike come into their living room out of the corner of his eyes with that look on his face - that look that means he’s thinking really hard about something and is going to make it Will’s problem - Will’s heart sinks. Mike flops down on the couch next to Will, immediately widening his legs to a spread and Will sucks in a quiet breath, forces himself to freeze and prays his face doesn’t flush too noticeably. He frantically looks for a distraction and notices a yellow object, half hidden in Mike’s palm. 

“What’s that?” Will nods, ignoring how shaky his voice sounds. Mike perks up and lets his palm fall open. 

“Measuring tape,” Mike says cheerfully, like it’s obvious. Like he usually walks around with measuring tapes for no particular reason. 

And then, because Will has no sense of self-preservation, asks, “What for?” 

Mike’s brows raise and quirk together and Will can practically feel the air shift in the room into something heavier, weighted. “What do you think?”

“Dunno,” Will answers, but a small kernel of him is afraid he really does know. His tongue feels heavy and thick in his mouth, his skin too tight on his body. 

Mike chuckles, shifts a little on the couch, reaching into his lap to adjust himself through his jeans. Will’s eyes helplessly zero in on the motion. If Mike notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Well, you saw it, right? How big do you think I really am?” 

“Excuse me?” Will croaks out, feeling panic immediately flood his system. There’s no way Mike is talking about that now, after everything, after acting like nothing had happened for so long, is there? 

“C’mon, Will, take a guess,” Mike whines out, sounding disturbingly like a petulant child. He holds out the measuring tape. “Or you could just use this.” 

“I am not measuring your dick!” Will says shrilly, jumping up from the couch. He wishes he could pull a pillow in front of himself without drawing attention to it to hide the way his own dick is chubbing up pathetically at the mere mention of Mike’s cock.

“Why?” Mike asks, casually, even confused, like he’s not talking about Will putting a measuring tape up to his dick. 

“W-why? Why? Mike, you cannot be serious right now,” Will says, his voice rising to a near hysterical pitch. “Is this some kind of joke?” 

“You’ve already seen it, what’s the big deal? It’s for science, Will,” Mike asks gently, holding up his hands as he slowly stands in front of Will, moving like he’s facing a spooked animal. Like Will is being the irrational one. Will’s blood is boiling, his mind racing so fast he can barely keep up. “I can do yours too.” 

Will’s stomach plummets to the floor. His dick is twitching in interest at the prospect of Mike being close enough to measure it, but his brain is screaming stop, stop stop! He got off lucky with Mike’s apparent bout of amnesia over their last… incident, but he knows he’s pushing his luck. Knows that guys like him don’t get something good for nothing. There’s always strings attached, always another shoe to drop, always something to go wrong. Always. 

Will opens his mouth to say something, anything to put a stop to this, but his brain skids to a halt as Mike sits back on the couch and spreads wide, before wordlessly unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out. It’s the second time Will has seen Mike like this, but it doesn’t make it any easier. In fact, Will could genuinely fall to his knees and start weeping at the sight - and if it’s out of desire, relief, despair, or some strange combination of the three, he’ll never know because his body is frozen, stunned into immobility at the sight.

Mike is hard already and somehow looks even bigger than the last time, his cock angry and red and just begging for Will to put his hands on it. In the back of Will’s mind, a tiny little voice is asking why the hell Mike is already hard, but he frantically pushes it down. His brain doesn’t have energy to waste on logistics right now, not when it’s already working overtime trying to make sure he doesn’t spontaneously combust on the spot or start begging Mike to let Will take him, in any way possible. 

“Do you want to?” Mike asks, holding the measuring tape up to Will in one hand, his dick grasped tight in the other. Will gulps, words falling dead in his throat. Mike shrugs at Will’s silence, irritatingly nonchalant about the whole ordeal; like his dick isn’t out in front of Will, stupidly hard, and he’s about to measure it. Will would laugh at the sheer absurdity if he wasn’t somewhat convinced he’s already pissed off some entity or god enough to get this much bad luck in his life. Mike hums, squints down, looking like he’s figuring out a particularly challenging problem, before he removes the measuring tape from his dick and holds it up to the light. Will gets slapped with the absolutely dizzying urge to lick the damn thing. 

“So?” Will asks, his own voice startling him. He doesn’t even sound like himself, he doesn’t even sound human. 

“You tell me,” Mike says, and then he’s bringing the cursed measuring tape closer to Will, all the way up to Will’s face practically. Will is surprised his heart hasn’t stopped. Mike’s thumb taps on the tape and the numbers start to blur a little bit in Will’s eyes. “Well?” 

“T-ten,” Will answers, with great difficulty, taking a step back, like Mike’s holding a live grenade instead of his dick. His head is spinning so fast he feels like he’s going to fall or throw up or die on the spot. Mike brings the measuring tape back to his dick, studying it with great intensity. 

“Ten point zero three, to be exact,” Mike adds after a moment, his voice dropping to a pitch that Will has never heard, all gravely and low and way too much for Will’s poor brain. 

“Right. To be exact,” Will repeats dumbly. He feels like he’s in a dream, or under a trance. He’s never been harder in his life and it’s making it impossible to think. Mike blinks at him, easy and casual, even though his dick is still standing proud right in front of Will. 

“Your turn?” Mike asks, holding the measuring tape back up to Will. Will feels his mouth dry out, his eyes immediately zeroing in on the dab of precum oozing down the side of the tape. Mike’s precum. 

“I-” Will starts, brain struggling to compute a single coherent thought under the onslaught it's currently receiving. 

“I’ll do it for you,” Mike says lowly, stepping closer with that godforsaken measuring tape in his hand and a look in his eyes that has all the cells in Will’s brain immediately making a run for it. The thought of the tape that was pressed flush against Mike’s cock being near him in the same way makes something twist nervously inside him. He knows if he actually let Mike do what he’s suggesting, that it would be over for him. Mike would take one look at his pathetically desperate cock and know that Will is a freak who gets off on thoughts of his best friend’s dick. Worse, he’d probably also figure out that this behavior isn’t normal and that Will has some clearly not normal other thoughts about Mike. Thoughts that involve feelings. 

Although Will’s brain has officially checked out, his body still seems to have some sense of self-preservation because before he can make another critical error tonight and actually let Mike see his dick again, he’s bolting out of the room. He turns the corner into his bedroom and slams the door shut, chest heaving so rapidly he can barely catch a breath. His cock is so hard it almost hurts, and he frantically tries to pray his boner away with just sheer willpower. It doesn’t work.

Through the roaring in his ears, he can hear Mike padding close to his door, standing outside it for just a moment, before he’s shuffling away. As his heart races and his lungs fight to get a full gulp of oxygen in, his brain keeps repeating the same thing, over and over:

10.03. 10.03. 10.03.

Will wonders, not for the first time in his life, what he had done to deserve this. 

Will is tipsy. Not terribly so, not more than he'd like, but still. Tipsy. Just enough for him to drop his key onto the floor outside the apartment three times before he manages to unlock the door. 

After much effort, he stumbles into the apartment, knocking into the doorframe before he actually makes it inside. Will kicks off his shoes, flings his coat away and trudges into the living room before he unceremoniously drops himself onto the couch with a sigh. 

After that faithful night a few weeks ago, Will had become determined to put Mike and his stupid big dick out of his brain, once and for all. Realistically, he should be able to take all of this energy, all of this lust, desire, obsession, love that he has for Mike and just put it towards someone else. Someone who could give him what he wants. Someone who’s like him? Right? 

Wrong.

He tries to have no-strings attached hookups, he really does. And if they all end up looking a little bit too much like Mike - all tall, dark hair, and nerdy looking - that’s no one’s business but his. 

The problem is that none of them are Mike. None of them are Will’s best friend who he’s been in love with for an ungodly amount of time. None of them have been cradling the key to Will’s heart precariously in their hands for years.

And now, Will disturbingly realizes that they’re not 10.03. It’s just another way no one will ever compare to Mike.

It’s becoming a problem, both for him and his potential partners. He never used to be like this, not at all actually, but now going home with a guy and seeing what’s in his pants has him running for the door instead of eager to stay.   

Hence, why after another unsuccessful date, Will is tipsier than he should be, deeply pent up, and unsatisfied in every possible way. 

“Woah,” Mike says as he comes into the room and takes in Will’s undoubtedly disheveled appearance. Will fights the urge to groan - it’s just his luck that he can’t get off because of Mike and then immediately has to see Mike as soon as he gets home, all sleepy and soft and endearing. “Bad date?” 

“The worst,” Will replies, tilting his head back onto the couch and staring up at the ceiling. It’s spinning, just ever so slightly. 

It wasn’t actually the worst - the guy seemed nice, polite, even cute. But he wasn’t Mike. He wasn’t Will’s childhood best friend who knew every side of him and still stuck around. He wasn’t the boy who had looked for Will when all hope seemed lost, when everyone tried to convince him that Will was gone. He wasn’t the boy Will loves.

Will still decided to go home with him anyway. Which, clearly, was a mistake. He was sweet, good with his hands, and gentle, but Will didn’t want gentle, he wanted to be devoured. He wanted 10.03. And when he took off his pants, Will had to make up an excuse to go home early. He wanted to cry on the taxi ride home. 

“It shouldn’t that hard for me to find a good fuck,” Will says, throwing his hand over his eyes and groaning. The words slip out without his permission, and he doesn’t realize he’s never said something as direct to Mike before until he’s met with a long beat of silence. He feels his face heat up, and doesn’t dare look over at Mike. “I-I mean-” 

“I think it being hard is the point,” Mike blurts out. Despite himself, Will uncovers his face, looking over at Mike incredulously. Mike only grins at him, wolfish and smug and so handsome it makes something dark and twisted cry inside Will. “C’mon you walked right into that one.”

“I guess I did,” Will mumbles out, and just like that, he’s thinking about Mike’s cock again. How hard it was. What it would be like if Mike crawled between his legs and pushed inside his entrance. How even just the tip would feel huge and unyielding. Will shivers as the images rip through his mind, delirious with desire, but then feels a hot poker of anger spark up in him. This is why he can’t get a good fuck - Mike. 

In hindsight, Will realizes that he really needs to stop drinking alcohol. Not for any reason other than the fact that he seems to lose his brain-to-mouth filter around Mike and starts saying ridiculous things like, “I think you broke me.”

“What?” Mike chuckles out. Will fights the urge to strangle Mike. Or climb into his lap and kiss him. Either would be equally as satisfying. 

“You broke me,” Will repeats flatly watching as Mike flings himself onto the couch next to Will, spreading his legs wide and resting his hands behind his head. He looks so confident, so at ease with himself, that Will really can’t help it when he barrels forward angrily. “You and your stupid dick.” 

The silence that stretches between them is stark enough that Will immediately realizes he’s fucked up. He’s addressed the elephant in the room, breaking his most sacred rule of pretending whatever is happening doesn’t exist. For a moment, Mike’s mouth is open in shock, before it twists into a small grin, just tugging at the side of his lips. 

“M-my dick?” Mike says hoarsely. Instead of laughing or calling Will a weirdo like Will was expecting, his eyes darken with something unidentifiable. Will has to fight the urge to break his gaze, to tear his eyes away and break whatever spell they’ve fallen under. 

“Yes, Mike,” Will says hotly. He’s not sure where his filter has gone, but he does know that Mike and his cock have been the cause of most of Will’s problems for the past couple weeks. And, because Will must truly hate himself, asks, “Do you remember that night?”

“Of course I remember,” Mike answers immediately, turning his whole body to face Will. Will pointedly stays where he is, ignoring the way his face heats up. Hearing the confirmation to the question that has been consistently haunting him has his heart speeding up, his stomach twisting and coiling uncomfortably. “How could I forget that?” 

Will’s heart sinks to the floor below them and he decides, very quickly, that he’s not touching that one with a ten foot pole. 

Will makes a noise in the back of his throat, his brain struggling to reign in control and force his mouth not to say anything else incriminating. 

“Dunno,” Will only says, his voice cracking at the end. 

“How did my dick break you?” Mike says, voice low. Their ridiculously little couch seems to close in on them, or maybe Mike is scooting closer to Will, because their knees press together tightly and the room suddenly feels too hot and too small for the two of them. Will almost can’t breathe. “All you did was see it.” 

“Yeah,” Will whispers, his heart pounding so hard that he feels like he might throw up. 

“And what, now nobody compares?” Mike asks. If it were any other circumstance, Will would think Mike is joking, that he’s just being a guy, being Mike, but there’s nothing friendly about the look in his eyes as he scoots even closer to Will, so close he’s practically breathing down his neck. 

“Yeah,” Will repeats dumbly, unsure if his short-circuiting brain can come up with anything else to say. Mike’s eyebrows raise, like he wasn’t quite expecting Will to agree so easily, and then his big hand comes down to rest on Will’s thigh, tugging slightly. Will goes slightly boneless under Mike’s touch, letting Mike tug him closer to him, turning his body like a ragdoll so he’s splayed out under Mike. 

“Yeah?” Mike says, voice low and dangerous, eyes flickering to Will’s lips for just a brief second. Mike shifts, spreading Will’s legs so he can clamber in between them, and it’s only then when Will realizes the danger of the situation, how completely, utterly fucked he is. If Mike just moves an inch, he’ll immediately be able to tell how rock hard Will is, how much Will is enjoying even the easiest of touches. 

“Mike,” Will tries to protest, but it’s all that comes out. His brain can’t get past the fact that Mike fits between Will’s spread legs like he belongs there. 

“Want to see it again?” Mike asks, ignoring Will’s protest. Will can’t help the soft whine that slips out, the way his head bobs in a desperate nod, completely out of control of his brain.  

Mike makes a low noise in the back of his throat, before he’s reaching down to fumble with the button on his jeans with a frustrated curse. Will almost laughs, but then Mike’s cock is springing out of the confines of his pants and it dies in his throat. It’s just as good as he remembers, and he almost starts drooling at the sight, practically vibrating with need, with pent up desire not just for Mike's ridiculous cock, but for Mike himself. Will is about to say fuck it and wrap his fingers around it until Mike comes all over both of them, but then Mike is reaching forward, his deft, long fingers pulling at the zipper on Will’s jeans. 

Will squirms, about to make up an excuse for how embarrassingly hard he is when Mike tilts his hips forward, brushing their cocks together, and every thought in Will’s head dies. 

“Mike,” Will whines out, writhing under Mike, already desperate for moremoremore. It's dizzying, how good it feels, how just brushing against Mike's hard length has him panting and moaning already. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” Mike murmurs, and before Will has the chance to process how that pet name makes him feel, Mike is reaching forward and wrapping his hand around both of their dicks at once. His hand, slick with their precum, slides easily down both of their lengths, creating a friction so delicious that Will’s hips immediately arch off the couch with a cry. Mike’s hand tightens, and he sounds almost reverent when he mumbles, “God, you’re so - you’re so good.”

Will moans, throwing his head back against the arm of the couch and letting the staticky pleasure wash over his body. Somehow, it’s undoubtedly already the best sex he’s ever had, even though it’s barely anything. It’s just a deliciously hazy combination of Mike’s hot breath panting in his ear, Mike’s branding hands, one wrapped hot around their cocks and the other squeezing his thigh bruisingly tight, Mike’s precum drooling onto his stomach, just MikeMikeMike. 

“Look at us,” Mike pants, voice low and promising. Will’s head is spinning, can barely process a single word Mike is saying, but then Mike leans in to bite at Will’s ear, just a nip, but enough to have Will stunned back into reality. “Look, baby, please look.” 

Mike sounds so desperate, so raw, that Will can’t do anything but look. His eyes have trouble focusing at first, trailing across Mike’s red face, his disheveled hair, his dark eyes, down to the way the neck of his shirt scoops forward, revealing the flushed skin of his chest. Will wants to lean forward, wants to run his lips across the tendons in Mike’s neck and kiss and lick him until he’s shaking, but doesn’t dare, terrified he’s going to break the spell. It’s torture, being able to look, and not touch.

Mike makes a low, wounded noise in his throat, and it’s then when Will realizes he actually hasn’t followed Mike’s request. He lets his gaze flicker down, and the sight that meets him is enough to have him on the verge of coming on the spot. 

Will’s dick isn’t small, thank you very much, he’s average. He’s never been concerned or self conscious about his size, never even thought twice about it, and has certainly never thought about putting a measuring tape up to it for a real answer. But the size difference between his and Mike’s cock is staggering. Mike looks huge next to Will’s cock, veiny and thick and leaking precum into the slit of Will’s dick. Will knows he’ll never be able to get the image out of his head for as long as he lives. Mike’s grip tightens, his hips stuttering forward as he lets out a wrecked moan like he’s thinking the exact same thing. 

“Fuck,” Will moans out, unable to stop himself. His cockhead brushes against the side of Mike’s dick, catching on a protruding vein and he sees white. “Fuck, ah - Mike -”

“Yeah,” Mike says breathlessly, his thumb coming to stroke at Will’s weeping slit. Will’s hips jerk forward, and he lets out a whine, screwing his eyes shut as pleasure overtakes him. Mike tightens his grip to an almost painful degree and Will lets out a groan. “Hey, eyes on me, okay?” 

Will nods, words failing him. He tries to keep his eyes trained on Mike’s, but finds himself almost dizzy with the intensity that meets him. Mike picks up speed, his hips thrusting forward even faster, their dicks gliding together obscenely. Mike’s cock almost towers over Will’s, making a dirty, wet noise every time the heads meet. Will wants to drown in the feeling. 

“You’re so - oh god -” Will whines, words tumbling out of him uncontrollably as his gaze helplessly drops back to their cocks pressed together. “You’re so fucking big, Mike.”

Mike gasps, his free hand coming down to grip Will’s hip with almost bruising force, like he’s afraid Will is going to float away. “Yeah? You like that?” 

Will nods so fast it gives him whiplash, jostling his brain around a bit. He’s so close, just needs a little more, a soft push over the edge and he’ll be gone. “Please, Mike.” 

He doesn’t know what exactly he’s begging for, but feels tears springing at the corners of his eyes nonetheless. Mike lets out a dark chuckle, looking like he’s barely holding back from putting Will through the couch. “I knew it, knew you’d like it. Knew you’d need a big dick to get off.”

“Unnh - I do, I do,” Will blubbers, tears flowing freely out of his eyes, gripping the arm of the couch so tightly he can hear the fabric ripping and tearing. He hardly knows what he’s saying, feels like he would say or do anything to get Mike to keep fucking their dicks together like that. “I love it, oh my god, I love it.” 

“Yeah,” Mike says, somehow a strange combination of smug, reverent, and breathless. “I don’t want you going out with other guys, baby. You don’t need it anymore.”

Will whines, and for one blissful moment, he can pretend that Mike doesn’t want him going out with other guys because he wants to go out with Will. Because he wants to see Will like this and fuck Will stupid with his big dick. 

Mike leans forward, sinking his teeth into the base of Will’s neck and it’s over. Will’s back arches off the couch with a sharp cry, pleasuring washing over him in thick, powerful waves. He can feel his own release splatter between them, hot and pulsing. 

“Fuck, Will-” Mike moans out, hips stuttering wildly and making Will squirm and sob with overstimulation. “You came on me, you came on me, oh fuck-”

It’s all Mike can manage to get out before he’s spasming against Will, his entire body locking up as he lets out a guttural groan. Although his head is spinning, he can feel Mike’s cock pulsing and twitching against him, making his own cock perk up despite the bone deep exhaustion that fills him. With one last gasp, Mike’s arms wobble and he flops down unceremoniously onto Will. Will tenses, his brain struggling to wrap itself around the strangeness of the situation. He feels like he missed out on a critical shift between them. 

“Mike…” Will whispers, but Mike only shushes him, nuzzling his face into the nape of Will’s neck and making something twist inside Will. He wants to curl into Mike, to let himself have this, but he knows it’s not possible for someone like him. Knows this will all be some dream that he’ll struggle to wake up from.  The joint come cooling on his stomach starts to itch and he squirms to get up.

“Just stay,” Mike mumbles, already sounding half asleep, his voice lowering to the tone he reserves to be gentle. The one he reserves for Will. 

Will sighs and melts into the couch, hesitantly bringing his hand up to rest in Mike’s hair, terrified that Mike will jump up or melt away into nothingness if Will touches him. But when Will’s fingers meet Mike’s curls, Mike only hums, sleepy and content, and Will knows he’s screwed. Whatever tomorrow brings, whatever hell he will have to put himself through to make himself forget this, he decides that, for now, he will let himself have this, even if it’s just a dream. Even if it’s not real. He falls asleep to the sound of Mike breathing in his ear, low and steady and reminding him of home, and tries to ignore the way it makes his heart break. 

The next morning Will wakes up gently, eased out of the warm embrace of sleep by the flicker of sunlight streaming in through the open window. He can hear the city coming to life outside, and burrows deeper into his plush sheets, wondering if he can manage another few minutes of sleep before he gets up for the day. Through his haze of sleep, the warm, rich scent of coffee comes wafting into the room. Will inhales deeply, thinking just how grateful he is for such a nice roommate like Mike - 

Mike. 

Will bolts upright, panic seizing through his entire body. Any sleep or contentment is immediately wiped from his brain as the memories from the previous night come flooding in: Mike on top of him, seeing Mike’s dick again, Mike’s dick against his, hot and heavy and so good. Oh god. Mike fell asleep on top of him. The room starts spinning around him, and Will has to screw his eyes shut to avoid throwing up. 

Will flops back down on the bed, heart pounding in his chest. As he throws his pillow over his face to try and smother himself to death, he comes to an even worse realization. He’s in his bed, when they obviously fell asleep on the couch together, covered in sweat and come, limbs tangled together. Will’s hand shoots down to his stomach, expecting to find the evidence of last night hardened onto his skin, but that too is gone. Any evidence of last night got washed away with the morning light. 

Will briefly wonders if he hallucinated last night, or if it was just a hyperrealistic wet dream, but when his fingertips find the base of his neck and press down, the bruise that’s undoubtedly blooming under his skin from where Mike bit him flares up. If he presses down hard enough, he swears he can feel teeth marks embedded into the sensitive skin. 

Okay. So, not a hallucination. 

Will stares at the ceiling, piecing together the events of last night with painful accuracy. After much deduction, he comes to the only obvious conclusion there is - Mike regrets what happened between them. Otherwise, why would Mike dump him in his room like trash, like he couldn’t stand to see him or any of the evidence of what they had done together? 

Their friendship is over, along with Will’s entire life possibly. 

There’s no shock that follows his conclusion, no startling bolt of panic, only dull, painful resignation. He miserably wishes he could go back in time, back before Mike’s dick became such a dangerous obsession, beg himself to stop. Tell himself that he should know what happens to boys like him when they think something will go well. That he should stop before it’s too late and he ruins everything he’s ever cared about. 

Will can’t even cry, although his body aches to. He paces around his room, wondering if the movement will somehow shake something loose inside his brain. He debates staying locked away in there, half feeling that if he starved to death, it would be what he deserves, but his stomach and bladder have other plans. He pads out into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible, desperate to avoid Mike. He peers around the wall, wondering if the kitchen is a safe zone, but is met with a startlingly empty room. The coffee pot is still on, steam still pouring out of the top, meaning Mike had essentially just been in here. Will pours himself a mug, forcing himself to drink even though he’s trying hard not to throw up, and tiptoes around the apartment. He feels a bit like a masochist for actively looking for Mike, but finds his feet carrying him there anyway. 

After a quick, but careful search of their very tiny apartment, Will comes to a strange realization: Mike is nowhere to be found. 

It both relieves and disturbs him. On the one hand, he thinks if he actually had to face Mike he might die on the spot. On the other hand, it’s just another confirmation that things are wrecked beyond repair. Something sour stirs in Will’s stomach. Everything is ruined. All because he’s obsessed with Mike and his big dick. 

Will haunts the apartment the entire day, stuck in a torturous state of limbo where he needs to do something to get his mind off Mike, but is incapable of doing anything other than overthink and be full of doom and despair. 

Mike comes home late that night, after Will has already eaten dinner alone, showered, and forced enough tension out of his body to at least try to relax. As soon as Will hears the keys rattle in the door, every cell in his brain tells him to run to the safety of his room, but his body is frozen, glued to the couch no matter how badly he wants to bolt. 

Mike shuts the door quietly behind him, and Will braces himself for impact as he hears Mike shuffle into the living room. Predictably, Mike stops dead in his tracks when he sees Will, eyes wide like Will is an intruder in his home or has three heads. 

“Oh,” Mike says, sounding somewhat surprised. His face flushes a light pink like he’s embarrassed, but all Will can think about is how his face was that exact shade of pink last night, moments before he came all over Will. If Will wasn’t frozen to the couch, he would be throwing himself out the window. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Will says, aiming for calm, cool, and collected, but it comes out squeaky and awkward. 

“How - uh -” Mike starts, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. “How are you?” 

“Fine,” Will lies, feeling slightly on the verge of throwing up as the acidic words pass through his lips. “You?” 

“Fine,” Mike echoes. His eyes are wide still as he starts to back towards his bedroom, moving slowly like he’s trying not to spook a feral animal. “Did you eat?” 

“Uh - yeah, yeah I did,” Will answers, a little surprised by how normal the question is. 

“Oh, okay,” Mike says awkwardly. If Will didn’t know any better, he’d say Mike might’ve wilted in disappointment a bit at that. “Well, I - uh, okay. I guess I’m just going to head to bed.” 

“Cool,” Will says, trying hard to fight back tears because apparently, he’s fine, and Mike is just fine too. Even though they came together again, and had their dicks pressed together, and are apparently incapable of speaking to each other like normal people now, they’re fine. 

“Cool,” Mike echoes again, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Although he’s moving slowly now, he’s practically in his bedroom doorway, and Will can’t even see his face as he says quietly, “Good night, Will.” 

Will doesn’t respond, biting back hot tears that get caught in the back of his throat. He has to try extra hard not to think about how not 24 hours ago, Mike had called him baby. 

Will faces unprecedented levels of torture the next few days. He wants to scream and cry, to throw things, to curse the universe, but he knows there’s no one to blame but himself. Will had spent so long pushing down his feelings for Mike and praying for them to go away. He was good at it. He had it all under control. He should’ve known better.

Will and Mike are like passing ships in the night, both clearly having mastered avoidance. The true test comes creeping around the corner much faster than Will would like; every Friday, Mike waits for Will’s shift to be over and they stop at the pizza place across from their apartment to get a slice and commiserate how awful their respective weeks have been. That Friday, Will is a nervous wreck wondering what they’re possibly going to talk about, when the source of his misery the whole week has been Mike. However, as he makes his way out of work and into the dusky, chilled night, the spot where Mike is usually standing and waiting for him is empty. 

Will gapes, momentarily shocked, and begins peering around the corner, half expecting Mike to pop out from a shadow and say surprise! You didn’t think I would miss this, did you?, but it never comes. His insides tighten uncomfortably and he has to fight back the embarrassing urge to cry in the middle of the street. Mike never misses one of their rituals. Never. Even when they’re both ridiculously busy or had bickered about something stupid, he’s always here, everything else forgotten but the small amount of time they had allotted for themselves. 

Will walks back to the apartment in a daze, his vision blurry with unshed tears. When he finally makes it inside, he’s half debating staying in the hallway, uncertain what he’ll find when he goes inside, uncertain if Mike will even be there. However, against his better judgment, he goes inside, and finds Mike, sitting on the couch, reading a book. Ridiculous as he feels, it’s enough to have his unspilled tears slipping out of his eyes and across his cheeks. 

He must make a noise, or maybe Mike can sense his haunting presence, because Mike’s head immediately shoots up, eyes meeting Will’s with startling intensity. 

“Will?” Mike sounds startled, immediately closing his book and placing it on the table. “What’s wrong?” 

Will has to bite back the mildly hysterical bubble of laughter that threatens to spill out. What isn’t wrong? He thinks about clamping his lips shut, about ignoring Mike’s question and spending the rest of the night, possibly the rest of his life, locked away in his room. Instead he blurts out, “Do you hate me?” 

Mike blinks at him, furrowing his brows and eyes widening in alarm. He stands up slowly, approaching Will cautiously. He would look calm, if not for the way his jaw is clenched tightly, or his hands are twitching at his side like he’s debating reaching out for Will, but is stopping himself. “Hate you?” Mike balks. “Why would I hate you, Will?” 

Will’s helpful brain reminds him that Mike isn’t actively denying anything. Will wants to hurl himself into oncoming traffic. Something ugly rears its head inside Will, and for a moment, he feels so angry he can’t even speak. He feels enraged at himself for being so stupid, for believing that he could have something, for once in his life. For how, even if it was shortly lived, Will tried to convince himself that what they were doing meant something. That it wasn’t all nothing, something he made up in his head. 

“Because… y-you - you…” Will starts, but trails off, uncertain how to even begin explaining himself. Mike is silent, only looking at Will patiently. How can he say you let me see your dick and now you won’t even look at me without sounding like a freak? He settles on the safe answer, the answer that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface, “You weren’t there. After my shift.” 

His voice is so small, so pathetic, that it makes him cringe. His anger sours into something weaker, something ugly, and it makes him want to curl into a ball and die. A beat passes between them, and for a moment, Will thinks that Mike will deny it, that he’ll say he forgot and this was all some big misunderstanding. He’ll frantically beg for Will’s forgiveness, which Will will immediately give without any hesitation, like he always does. Instead, Mike says quietly, “I thought you wouldn’t want me to be there.” 

A small inkling of confusion blossoms inside Will, but it’s quickly overtaken by the hot tears sliding down his face, uninhibited and humiliating. “You don’t have to lie, Mike.” 

Mike looks up, looking so despondent that it makes Will’s heart ache in his chest. For a brief moment, he thinks about getting on his knees and begging for Mike’s forgiveness, for Mike’s mercy of just putting this behind them. Mike steps closer and flinches, like their proximity physically hurts him. 

“Lie?” Mike asks, so low, Will can barely hear him. 

“I know I was being…  inappropriate with you, and I’m sorry,” Will babbles, feeling mildly hysterical. Mike’s face shifts into something that Will disturbingly cannot read. He barrels forward, the words freeflowing out of him. “I’m so sorry, Mike. I know you think I’m disgusting, but I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll leave, I’ll-” 

“Will,” Mike cuts in. His eyebrows furrow on his forehead, in that adorable way that makes Will want to kiss him silly. Will frantically has to remind his brain not now. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“You think I’m disgusting. Because of what we did,” Will whispers, the words burning his insides as they fight their way out. Saying them out loud somehow makes them hurt more, but he forces himself to continue. “And that’s why y-you don’t… you don’t like me anymore.” 

“Will, I came so hard that I immediately passed out,” Mike says slowly, like he’s turning over every word as he says them. “And you thought I didn’t like it? That I think you’re disgusting? Are you kidding?” 

Will blinks at Mike, digesting his words and feeling like he must’ve hit his head in the shower and this is all some bizarre, coma induced dream that he’ll soon wake up from. Mike stares back at Will, clearly expecting an answer. Will flinches, letting out a quiet and uncertain, “No?” 

Mike huffs out a disbelieving breath of laughter. Will feels like he’s on overdrive, like his body can’t quite figure out what’s going on yet. “Why would you possibly think that?” 

“You dumped me in my bedroom and you’ve been avoiding me ever since! How was I supposed to take it?” Will says, his voice rising to a mildly hysterical volume.

“Dumped you? Will, I-I…” Mike trails off, suddenly looking embarrassed. “I felt like I took advantage of you.” 

Will blinks, freezing. “Advantage? Of me?” He repeats, debating pinching himself so he can start waking up. 

“Yeah, I kind of, you know, forced myself on you. You had been drinking and then during it-,” Mike babbles, cutting himself off and flushing bright red, averting his gaze to the ground. Will’s body heats up at the memory. “You were crying, Will. And then I fell asleep on top of you, and the next morning I heard you awake, pacing around your room, but you wouldn’t come out and talk to me.” 

Will doesn’t know how to respond to that, doesn’t know how to say that he was haunting his room and praying for the ground to swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to endure the humiliation of being rejected and shamed by Mike. At Will’s silence, Mike sighs heavily, shifting on his feet. 

“We didn’t even kiss, Will,” Mike says sullenly, his face falling.

Will’s head is spinning so fast he can barely breathe. Mike thought about kissing him then. Mike says we didn’t even kiss with more anguish than Will has heard from him in a long time. Will doesn’t know what to make of that.

“Did you want to kiss me?” Will whispers, terrified, but desperate for the confirmation that this isn’t all in his head. 

“Wanted to then. Currently want to. Always want to,” Mike says miserably, hands reaching up to press into his scalp like he’s trying to keep all of his thoughts inside his head and failing. “I think about kissing you a lot, Will. So, if anything I’m the disgusting one, because I took advantage of you-” 

“What if I wanted you to take advantage of me?” Will blurts out. Mike freezes, fingers tangled in his curls. Will takes it as a sign to continue, and figures that if everything has gone to hell, at least he’ll go out with a bang. “What if… I liked it so much that I wanted to do it over and over again? What if I think about kissing you and want you to kiss me too? What if-”  

“Will,” Mike cuts in, lowering his gaze to look into Will’s eyes. Will forces himself not to look away, despite how much the eye contact burns him inside. “Don’t say stuff you don’t mean.” 

“I mean it,” Will says, trying not to sound too forlorn, like it hasn’t been killing him every day of his life, for as long as he could remember. “I mean every word of it, Mike.” 

Mike blinks at him, quiet, before Will sees his eyes start to mist and water. The idea of making Mike cry is slightly horrifying, and Will falters, unsure if he should reach out and comfort him or leave him alone. Fortunately, Mike doesn't make him decide, just pulls away and flops back down on the couch with a heavy, resigned sigh. He looks up at Will with such adoration and pain that it makes Will’s heart hurt. 

“Will, I can’t -” Mike starts, flinching, and for the alarming moment between Mike’s words, Will’s heart shatters into a million little pieces, scattering all over their living room floor. “I can’t do casual, Will. Not with you. I…” 

As Mike trails off, undoubtedly coming up with a polite way to crush Will’s heart, any calmness or confidence Will was feeling immediately floods out of his body. He knew Mike regretted it. All his denial was just to soften the blow that he can’t do this with Will. Maybe he could with someone else, but not with Will. The thought sits sour and acidic in his stomach. It feels almost like a sick joke at this point, a game the universe is playing on him to see how many times he can get his hopes up from the same boy after getting them crushed time and time again.

“Oh,” Will croaks out, hands shaking by his side. Humiliatingly enough, feels himself start to cry again, but thankfully, his body seems to have an ounce of self-preservation left, because he instinctively starts backing out of the room. “I’m sorry, Mike, I know you’re not - you’re not like me, I’m sorry-”

“Woah,” Mike says, quickly standing up and practically materializing by Will’s side. He grabs Will by his shoulders, the touch gentle, but firm, and making Will flinch as his pathetic heart clenches painfully in his chest. Will sways, half feeling like he might pass out. “Woah, not like you? Will, what?”

“Mike, let me go, please,” Will whines, squirming in Mike’s grip, desperate to get away from this sheer humiliation ritual that Mike is insisting on him. Mike pauses for a moment, long enough for Will to get a glimmer of hope that maybe, if he stays silent, Mike will just let him go and let this be done with. Let him crawl back to his room and lick his wounds and debate never coming out. 

“Will you let me finish?” Mike finally asks softly, his fingers tracing soothing circles on Will’s shoulders. Will can’t breathe, can’t stop shaking under Mike’s touch. “Will? Need you to use your words for me, baby.” 

Will can’t help the pained whimper that escapes his lips at the use of Mike’s baby again. Hearing Mike say baby to him is almost physically painful, like salt in the wound, like Mike is kicking him when he’s already down. Mike blinks at him, seemingly unaware of his slip up. Will lets out a sigh, finally resigned to the fact that Mike isn’t going to let him leave this conversation unscathed.

“Yes,” Will says, voice barely above a breath of air. 

“I can’t do something casual with you, Will.” Mike repeats, and Will starts squirming again, body rearing in anticipation of hearing Mike’s rejection again, but Mike holds him even tighter. “I want everything with you. Not just to hookup or makeout, or whatever. I want to date you, Will, because I-I… I love you. Like I’m in love with you.”

Mike stops abruptly, like he has more to say but is physically restraining himself. It looks almost like he’s in pain. Everything suddenly feels like too much: the lights too bright, the hum of distant traffic too loud, Will’s skin too tight across his bones. He feels like he’s going to pass out or throw up as he lets the words wash over him, dangerously light headed as he digests their seemingly impossible meaning. 

“Will?” Mike asks hesitantly, startling Will out of his silence. The color has drained out of his face, and he looks about as queasy as Will feels. “Say something. Please.” 

“Mike, I-” Will chokes, tears threatening to burst out of his eyes. Even though he knows Mike’s words should make him happy, should make him jump for joy, he can’t help but not believe them. He doesn’t even think Mike is lying, per se, he just knows it can’t possibly be true, not for him. He swallows tightly, forcing the rising bile in his throat back down to his rumbling stomach. “You don’t mean that.” 

“Will…” Mike trails off with a frown. He screws his eyes shut tightly, looking like he’s also fighting back tears. “If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But don’t tell me I don’t mean this. I’ve never meant something so much.” 

Mike’s words knock the air out of Will, and the look of pain on Mike’s face has Will’s insides clenching agonizingly. He forces himself to be honest, to be brave, like Mike. The words fight their way out, shuddering in the light after having been shoved down for so long. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.” 

Mike stills, and for a moment, Will wonders if he ruined it all again. If he laid himself too bare and revealed a part of himself that Mike wasn’t ready to see. If Mike was now going over every single one of their interactions and second guessing Will’s motives and intentions. Will is about to open his mouth to start backpedalling and doing damage control, but then Mike pulls him in impossibly close, wrapping his arms around Will with a satisfied sigh. Instinctively, Will sags into Mike’s arms and presses his nose into the crook of Mike’s shoulders, inhaling the comforting scent deeply. Mike tightens his arms around Will, like he can’t bear to let him go, and tucks his head over the crown of Will’s head. 

“I love you so much. Oh my god, I’m such an idiot,” Mike says, laughing breathlessly and giddily. Will snorts out a bubble of laughter into Mike’s chest, fisting at the soft material under his fingertips. “Hey! Don’t agree with me!” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Will says, voice muffled because he can’t bear to move out of this position. It feels like everything in his life has been leading to this moment, and he can’t imagine letting go now. 

“You didn’t have to,” Mike says softly, hand coming up to gently cradle the back of Will’s neck. They stand like that for a moment, just breathing, hearts pressing up against each other’s, before Mike shifts, gently tilting Will’s head back from where it’s resting on Mike’s body. They’re still pressed against each other, not an inch of space between them, but this is almost nicer because now Will can look into Mike’s eyes, can watch the way they frantically search Will’s face for any hint of discomfort. “Can I kiss you?” 

A burst of breathless laughter shoots out of Will at how ridiculous it is that Mike thinks he has to ask for permission to kiss Will, like it’s not all Will has ever wanted since he even knew what kissing was, like Will hasn’t been Mike’s since the day they met on the swingsets. His eyes sting as tears threaten to spill out of them again. Mike’s thumb traces his cheekbone mindlessly as he waits for Will’s answer, making him feel slightly dizzy. “Yeah, Mike. Yeah.” 

Mike leans forward, looking at Will with so much love that it makes him weak in the knees, before he brushes their lips together. Will gasps against Mike’s lips, electricity shooting through him. It’s gentle, almost comically chaste compared to what Will was expecting, but it’s perfect. He thinks he might fall over if Mike wasn’t holding him upright. 

For a blissful moment, it’s just their lips pressed firmly together, sharing oxygen and heartbeats. Will thinks he could be content to die like this, but then Mike swipes his tongue at Will’s lower lip, begging for entrance, and Will thinks, no, I need to live so I can experience this forever. When they pull away, Mike frowns down at Will, concern gracing his perfect features. 

“You’re crying,” Mike whispers, thumbing away tears that Will hadn’t realized had fallen. 

“They’re happy tears,” Will laughs wetly. “I’m so happy, Mike.” 

“I’m so happy, too,” Mike says with a soft smile. His brow furrows. “Wait… so does that mean when you cried… the other day, that it was-”

“Those were good tears too,” Will says, maybe a little too quickly, feeling his face heat up as the memory floods through him. “Different good, but still good. Really good.”

“Oh yeah?” Mike asks, voice turning low and sultry.  Will nods, not trusting his own voice and dares to hold the heated eye contact with Mike. “What if I want to make you cry like that again?” 

“Then I would say…” Will starts, aiming for smooth and confident, praying his voice doesn’t betray how he’s a heartbeat away from losing his mind. “Bring it.” 

Mike blinks rapidly at him and Will wonders if he grossly misunderstood the whole situation, but then Mike’s gaze darkens and he knows he hasn’t. “Careful,” Mike warns, voice dangerous. 

“Don’t wanna be careful,” Will replies easily. He hasn’t wanted to be careful ever since Mike spread his legs and insinuated that his dick was massive. He doesn’t think he can handle being careful anymore. Will feels his mouth water as he thinks about all the ways he could be not careful; he wants to beg Mike to let Will see it again, to let him put his mouth on his dick, to let Will make him feel good. He suddenly remembers he can ask for that and blurts out, “I’d really like to suck your dick.” 

Mike groans, screwing his eyes shut like he’s in pain, but they’re so close that Will can feel the way his dick twitches in his pants and betrays any semblance of control. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Will breathes out, fingers itching to close the distance between them so he can undo Mike's pants and pull out his rapidly hardening cock. He’s practically alight with the thought of it. “Been thinking about it forever.”

“I knew it, you do just want me for my body,” Mike says, but there’s no seriousness to it. He keeps his hands firm on Will’s hips, as he guides them to the couch, only separating them to flop down somewhat unceremoniously and spread his legs wide. Will’s mouth waters and he crawls into Mike’s lap. Mike’s hands immediately come back down to grip his hips like they belong there and Will almost laughs at the sheer absurdity of the situation, has to press his lips to Mike to stop a manic giggle from slipping out. He’s still in disbelief that he can and swallows every little content noise Mike makes. 

The kiss is deeper than the last, tongues entangled and greedily drinking in the other’s spit, and Will feels slightly intoxicated by it. For how lanky and boney Will usually thinks of Mike as, he feels surprisingly strong and solid underneath Will, and he can’t help his hips from starting to swivel and grind down onto Mike’s lap. Mike lets out a wounded noise, and his steadily wandering hands slip down to Will’s ass and grip, rocking Will tightly against him. Will moans into Mike’s mouth, startled as a little bolt of pleasure shoots through him. When he shifts a little, he can feel Mike’s hardness hot against his thigh, and he suddenly remembers what he’s been dying to do. 

Will starts to pull back, tries to maneuver himself downward, but Mike won’t let him go. He whines when their lips separate, grips Will’s ass even tighter, like he’s afraid Will will float away, and latches his mouth onto Will’s neck. 

“Mike-” Will protests, but it comes out as a moan. He would be content to stay like this, to rock lazily into Mike’s lap until they come, panting into each other’s mouths like horny teenagers, but the (rapidly shrinking) active part of his brain pushes through the haze. “C’mon, Mike, wanna suck you off.” 

That seems to snap Mike into alertness. He lets out a desperate noise, one that can be classified as a whine and lets his hands drop from Will’s hips wordlessly. It’s as much of an invitation as Will needs, and he slinks down the length of Mike’s body until he’s on his knees between Mike’s spread legs. He looks up at Mike, at the way Mike’s eyes are dark with hunger, the way his legs spread wide in invitation, and feels his mouth start to fill with drool. With shaking hands, Will unbuttons Mike’s jeans, trying not to pass out when his fingertips brush Mike’s cock through his boxers. 

“Will,” Mike whines, squirming a little under Will’s hands. “C’mon.” 

Will suddenly feels like he has the upper hand for the first time since this whole monstrosity started, and almost feels like he doesn’t know what to do with all this new power. He leans forward and mouths at the rapidly dampening cloth of Mike’s boxers, feeling the powerful heat under his lips. Mike lets out a wrecked moan, and any desire to draw this out or to tease Mike vanishes. Will pulls the waistband of Mike’s boxers down and lets his cock spring out, almost hitting him in the face. 

Seeing it up close, with real, honest-to-god permission to look, touch, taste, has Will salivating uncontrollably. Knowing what’s coming next is almost intimidating, and although it’s nowhere near Will’s first time, he feels like it might as well be. It’s just so… big. It’s long, girthy, and oh-so thick. He doesn’t know how he’s going to fit it inside him, whether it be in his mouth or his ass. 

Will shivers at the thought, the promise of what’s hopefully coming later. Like a man possessed, he mindlessly leans forward, giving the weeping tip a small, kitten lick.

“Will,” Mike warns, but he’s trembling too much for Will to take him seriously. Will merely hums, finding some sort of satisfaction in the fact that he’s been waiting for this for so long and now Mike is here, in front of him, shaking and barely able to control himself. “Will. Baby. Please.” 

Mike sounds so desperate, so completely unraveled, that Will can’t help but break. A surge of bravery courses through him, along with the toe-curling, all-consuming desire to have Mike’s leaking, throbbing cock in his mouth, and he leans forward to suck the head into his mouth in one smooth motion. 

Mike immediately groans underneath him, and Will hears when his head thumps to the wall behind the couch. He tries not to smirk, focusing all his effort on relaxing his jaw and throat for the large intrusion. He lets his jaw open even further, sliding his mouth down another few inches, feeling along the veiny side with his tongue. 

“Oh god,” Mike moans, sounding gone already. “Baby, holy shit.” 

Will hears Mike fist his hands into the couch cushions, and when he glances over, sees that Mike is gripping them so tightly he’s almost ripping out the threads. Will hums, not daring to take his mouth off of Mike’s cock, and looks up. He meets Mike’s eyes instantly, and almost trembles with how heated and dark his gaze is, completely trained on Will with a predatory focus. He’s also almost comically disheveled already - his shirt wrinkled and his hair sticking straight up from where he was running his fingers through the curls. Will decides right then that he needs more of Mike, and gently pries his fingers off the couch cushions and guides them into Will’s hair, without stopping the slow, lazy movements of his mouth once. 

Once Mike realizes what Will is doing he lets out an honest to god whine, and the sound is so needy, so delicious, that Will can’t help but moan around the pulsing length in his mouth. Mike breathes out another startled moan, his fingers tightening their hold on Will’s hair, before immediately loosening. 

“‘S okay,” Will says as soon as he takes his mouth off Mike’s cock with a dirty pop. He knows he sounds wrecked already and he hasn’t even taken most of Mike into his mouth. It just makes him more determined. Mike pants, looking down on at him with an almost frantic look in his eyes. Will clears his throat, licking the stray dab of precum off his lips and watching with fascination as Mike’s eyes zero in on the motion. “You can touch me, I want you to touch me.”

Mike groans like he’s in pain, but he’s betrayed by the way his cock twitches where it’s resting against Will’s lips. Will can’t fight the urge to put it back in his mouth, not waiting to hear Mike’s response. 

He gets a little lower down before he feels his throat spasm with a wet gag. He pulls off, trying to catch his breath, and praying Mike doesn’t notice the tears gathering in his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” Mike says, thumbing Will’s cheek in a manner so soft and romantic compared to what they’re doing. Will leans into the touch with a hum. “You’re doing so good. Taking me so well.” 

Will shivers as the praise rolls through him and immediately puts his mouth back over the head of Mike’s cock, lapping at the absolute fountain of precum coming out of it. He gets a little excited thinking about how he can maybe get even further next time, how he can keep trying and trying and one day be able to open up and relax his throat completely for Mike. He imagines all of that thick length in his mouth, pulsing, neverending, completely all encompassing - how his nose would be buried in the thatch of dark curls at the base, maybe even able to touch the quiver in Mike’s stomach. 

The thought has him practically vibrating with desire, and he doesn’t realize how hard he’s sucking at the tip of Mike’s cock, licking at the weeping slit like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, until the volume of Mike’s moans increase and the hands in his hair tighten to an almost painful degree. 

“Will - baby, I’m gonna come,” Mike warns, clearly trying to be a gentleman, but seemingly unaware that Will is dying for Mike to come in his mouth. Will’s hand comes up to stroke the remaining length as he sucks on the tip and Mike flat out whimpers. “Shit, shit, shit-” 

It’s all the warning Will gets before Mike’s hips arch off the couch with a wrecked moan, sliding his dick a little bit further into Will’s mouth as a hot burst of come splashes onto Will’s tongue. Will moans, both at the taste and at the feeling of Mike getting even deeper into his mouth, even if it did make him gag a little. He keeps sucking, desperate to drink Mike completely dry, drinking in every soft moan he lets out. It’s only when he starts to actually shake that Will lets his cock fall out of his mouth and limply onto his leg. 

As he tries to catch his breath and come down to earth from the almost out of body experience sucking Mike’s cock gave him, Will lays his cheek on Mike’s thigh, looking up at Mike and thinking about how even soft and spent, Mike’s cock is dangerously large and now he gets to have it all to himself. Even though he’s still rock hard in his own pants, Will feels wolfishly satisfied, like sucking Mike’s cock completed a part of him in some strange, perverted way. 

From underneath Will, Mike’s chest heaves with effort, and a thin sliver of flushed skin on his chest pokes out from the collar of his shirt. He looks unfairly hot, and Will debates sucking him back to hardness and going again, but decides against it, knowing there’s more to come. Instead, he crawls back into Mike’s lap, sighing at the immediate comfort he feels at being there. He can’t believe he spent so long not having this. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to go back. 

Mike leans up, pressing their lips together without opening his eyes once. He grasps hard at Will's back, kissing him so earnestly, he's practically devouring Will. Will gasps at the feeling of Mike's tongue everywhere in his mouth, wonders if Mike can taste himself on Will's tongue. The thought is dizzying. 

When Mike pulls back Will has to fight the urge to whine and chase his lips. Mike cracks open his eyes to look at Will, his breathing slowly returning to normal. Will shifts on Mike’s lap, his own hardness straining in his jeans. 

“Holy shit,” Mike finally says, his voice gravely and low, making Will squirm in his lap at how good he sounds. “That was insane, baby. God, what the fuck?” 

Will giggles, a bubble of mild hysteria rising up in him. He can’t believe this is his life. He’s still waiting to wake up. 

“All that big talk about your big dick,” Will teases, emphasizing his words with a grind of his hips. Mike hisses in sensitivity, his head falling to rest on Will’s chest. “You always come that fast?” 

He really, truly wouldn’t have cared even if Mike had come in three seconds flat, as long as Will got his mouth on him, but seeing Mike get flushed again is a reward in itself. 

“No,” Mike pants, gazing up at him with such intensity it makes Will shake. “It’s ‘cause it’s you.” 

Will blushes, his earlier confidence fading away at the pure honesty, the pure love and devotion in Mike’s words. “Oh. Well, I’m flattered.” 

“Shut up,” Mike says, his laughter vibrating against Will’s chest and sending warmth throughout Will’s whole body. His hands trail down Will’s back in soft caresses, making Will shiver. Mike is still soft underneath him, but Will needs him so bad it almost hurts. He tilts Mike’s head back up and catches his lips in an open mouthed kiss. 

“I’m starting to want you to make me,” Will pulls back just enough to whisper. He watches as Mike processes his words, his eyes darkening, and doesn’t get any warning before Mike is pushing up off the couch, keeping Will flush against him. 

Will lets out an undignified shriek, immediately wrapping his arms and legs around Mike. Although Will can feel him shaking with effort, Mike just lets out a soft chuckle, his hand coming down to Will’s ass to support him. Or feel him up again. Will can’t really tell.

“Jesus, Mike,” Will says into Mike’s neck, trying to ignore the way Mike’s caveman display of strength makes his stupid heart flutter frantically in his chest. “We couldn’t have just stayed on the couch?” 

“I’m not fucking you for the first time on that thing,” Mike grumbles, stumbling into his bedroom. Will can’t help the little whine he lets out at Mike’s words, or the way he clings to Mike even tighter. Mike unceremoniously dumps Will on the bed, and looks down at him curiously. “That is what you want, right?” 

It’s somewhat of a ridiculous question. Will doesn’t think he’s ever wanted something more and nods rapidly, past the point of caring if he seems needy. He feels practically boneless on the bed, and watches with bated breath as Mike kneels between Will’s spread legs and crawls forward, until they’re face to face, sharing the same oxygen. Mike brushes their lips together, and Will can’t help the desperate little noise he lets out, so on edge just from kissing, just from sucking Mike off, that he feels like he’s going to explode. 

“Mike,” Will whines, shifting his hips under Mike’s. He can’t even be embarrassed for the way it sounds like he’s begging, like he’s desperate, because he is. 

“Tell me, baby,” Mike whispers against his lips, grinding their hips together and sending a sharp shockwave of pleasure through Will’s entire body. 

“Fuck me,” Will says breathlessly, shocked as the words easily make their way past his lips. Mike looks down at him, eyes so dark, so filled with want and pure love that it makes Will shake. “Please.” 

Will is about ten seconds away from begging, so high strung from the past weeks of torture that he’s ready to say just about anything to get Mike to just get a move on, when Mike leans in, low, just over the base of Will’s neck and bites. 

Will practically lurches off the bed with a moan, clutching at Mike’s back and clawing down the clothed skin. He feels a bit shellshocked with how badly he needs it, with how badly he needs Mike. It feels like he needs him as close as humanly possible, or maybe even closer, until they become one person, one heartbeat. Will doesn’t even get the chance to feel frightened by the intensity of his thoughts because Mike’s mouth trails down the expanse of Will’s neck, and his mind goes blank.

Mike gently tugs Will’s shirt over his head and throws it haphazardly across the room, before pulling back, letting his eyes shamelessly roaming over Will’s body. Will fights the shiver that threatens to roll through him, both at the slap of cool air on his skin, and at being underneath Mike, laid so bare before him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Mike whispers, something akin to reverence thick in his voice. Will squirms, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed under Mike’s intense eyes, and fights the urge to push Mike off of him and run into the bathroom to splash water on his face and wake himself up from what must be a very good dream. He frowns, feeling sudden doubt wash over him like a cold plunge. Even if he’s not actually dreaming, he’s sure that just one wrong move, just one second for Mike to pause and realize what he’s doing and who he’s doing it with, is sure to send him running. 

In his silence, Mike makes a low, wounded noise, nosing at Will’s jaw. Will leans forward, biting back tears and suddenly desperate to hold onto this for as long as possible, for as long as Mike will let him. He threads his fingers through Mike’s hair, a tether, and watches as Mike pulls back to look at him, his eyes searching. “Where’d you go?” 

“Nowhere,” Will whispers, thumbing at the base of Mike’s hairline, feeling a strange surge of power as Mike tilts his head into the touch. 

“Liar,” Mike quips, but there’s no heat behind it. The look in his eyes makes Will shake, not just from the intensity, but from the fact that Will has seen it before - practically countless times - in the morning peering over a mug of steaming coffee, when he’s describing his latest idea for a novel to Will, when he’s watching Will from across the room. It’s a look, that Will now recognizes somewhat deliriously, of love, and Will doesn’t know where to put all of it, or if he’s even deserving of being on the receiving end of it. Mike makes another noise, low in the back of his throat. “Baby, c’mon. Talk to me.” 

“I’m fine,” Will says, but even he doesn’t believe it with the way his voice wobbles and cracks at the end. Mike clearly doesn’t either, frowning down at Will with a look that says I know you. And I know you’re lying. Will clears his throat, knowing he won’t be able to get out of this one, and just prays he can get through it without crying. “I just - I guess I just don’t believe this is really happening. That’s all.” 

“Why?” Mike asks, sounding so earnest, so genuinely confused that it makes Will’s heart ache. Will frowns. He wants to laugh, say that surely, Mike must be joking. That things like this don’t just happen. Not to him. He doesn’t know how to say as much without sounding pathetic, or mean, snapping at Mike like a starving dog, so he settles on a soft, “It seems like it’s too good.” Mike blinks at him, unresponsive, and Will sighs, knowing he’s way past the point of hiding. “For me, Mike. It’s too good for me.” 

Mike smiles down at him, but it’s a sad, watery smile that makes Will’s heart clench painfully in his chest. “It’s not, Will. You’re too good to be true. You don’t-” Mike cuts himself off, shaking his head like he’s angry at the mere thought of Will thinking these things. “You deserve every single thing you’ve ever wanted and more.”

“Mike,” Will protests, but it’s halfhearted. He feels his face heating up to an impossible degree. “Stop.”

“No, Will. I’m not going to stop. I need you to know this. Do you know why?” Mike says, voice suddenly serious. Will shakes his head, not daring to speak, not even daring to breathe. “Becaues I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you-” 

“Mike!” Will squeaks, slapping his hand over Mike’s mouth and stopping his rant, even though hearing those words coming from Mike have his heart fluttering. “Enough, I get it!” 

Mike gently pries Will’s hand off his mouth, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to the inside of Will’s wrist, right over his pulse point. Will’s stomach twists.“Do you?” 

“Yes,” Will says, using Mike’s words to try and thaw out the frozen lake of doubt that’s been sitting, undying in his stomach, at best since yesterday, at worst, for Will’s entire life. Mike looks slightly unconvinced, but instead of commenting, leans forward to press his lips to Will’s. 

“Good,” Mike pulls back just enough to mumble against Will’s lips. “I’ll spend every single day of the rest of my life proving it to you. If that’s what it takes.” 

It sounds so much like a vow, like an oath, that Will feels a fresh batch of tears start to sting beneath his eyes. He fights back the humiliating urge to cry and instead rolls his hips up into Mike’s, trying to steer the conversation back in the direction of something that will only make him cry happy tears. “How are you going to do that?” 

Mike’s eyes darken, and he makes a noise in the back of his throat that Will can only classify as a growl, before grinding into Will with enough force to drive him up the bed. The friction sends a heady wave of pleasure through Will’s body, and he clutches desperately at Mike’s back, whining and moaning into the thick air. 

“I was thinking I’d start by fucking you until you cry. And preferably make you come at least twice. Three times if I’m really lucky,” Mike says easily, like they’re talking about weekend plans instead of fucking. Mike’s hands find purchase on Will’s hips as he continues to grind down and Will moans, his eyes fluttering shut at the delicious pleasure that rolls through him. Mike leans down to nip at Will’s neck, making Will gasp. “How’s that sound?’ 

Part of Will wants to tease Mike as much as possible, to pretend like this isn’t affecting him at all, and saying something flirty and confident like I’d like to see you try, but all that comes out is a weak moan, followed by, “Yes, yes, Mike, please.” 

Mike smirks down at him, looking startlingly like a predator, like he’s a creature whose sole purpose is to devour Will. Will shivers in anticipation, practically trembling as he awaits Mike’s next move. Just as he’s about to start begging again, Mike leans forward like he’s going to kiss Will, so close Will can taste him, and then leans back, sliding off the bed. Will whines, unable to fight the urge to try to grasp at Mike’s retreating form. Mike lets out a soft chuckle, but his cool, collected demeanor is betrayed by the way he roots frantically through his bedside table. After a moment, he pulls out a rather large bottle of lube, which, Will notes, is practically empty. 

Mike clambers back into the bed and Will quirks an eyebrow at the bottle, but doesn’t say anything. Mike blushes, the faint, pink color so sweet on his beautiful, pale skin. “You don’t know what it’s like to live with you,” Mike mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he squirts a dollop of lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the tacky substance. 

“Tell me,” Will says, unable to stop the curiosity from bubbling up inside him. The idea that he hasn’t been the only one suffering from this arrangement makes him feel slightly warm inside. Mike purses his lips together, like he’s debating not answering, but then meets Will’s eyes with a wicked grin, his coated fingers tracing the rim of Will’s entrance and instantly evaporating any of Will’s confidence. 

“Well,” Mike starts, pushing one finger inside Will and making him gasp and clutch at Mike’s arms desperately. “You’re a fucking tease. Walking around in those jeans you wear, talking to me about my dick. Basically everything you do gets me hard.” 

“Mike,” Will gasps, feeling his face start to heat to an undoubtedly alarming shade of red. He can’t help but squirm, both at Mike’s careful exploration and at his words, honest and full of unashamed desire. If he had any sort of upper brain function left, he’d be telling Mike that he’s the one who has been suffering from Mike’s teasing. Instead, all that comes out is a garbled noise, followed by a soft moan. “You - I - fuck, Mike.” 

“Yeah, baby,” Mike whispers reverently, like Will’s incoherent moans and whines are symphonies to his ears. Mike pushes his finger in deeper, impossibly deeper almost, the tip of it wiggling around like he’s determinedly searching for something inside Will. 

“Mike,” Will cries, like it’s the only thing he can say. He’s a bit stunned by the fact that Mike is inside him - that it’s Mike’s long finger filling him up, already reaching places Will always struggled to. Before Will can even think of adjusting, Mike is pushing another finger inside Will and crooking them right into Will’s prostate. Will arches off the bed with a startled moan as heat floods through him. “Ah - Mike!” 

“Yeah, you like that baby?” Mike speaks into Will’s skin, grinding his fingers in maddening little circles inside Will. Will can only nod, desperately and somewhat frantically, clawing his hands down Mike’s arm. “Fuck, I can’t believe I get to have you like this.” 

Will opens his mouth to respond that he can’t quite believe it either, but then Mike crawls down the length of his body, never removing his fingers from inside Will, so his face is inches away from Will’s desperately leaking cock and the words evaporate right out of him.

As he continues to gently thrust and scissor his fingers inside of Will, Mike starts to lazily mouth at Will’s stomach, planting wet kisses along the twitching and trembling skin. It’s just on the edge too much, the feeling of Mike’s hot, wet mouth, trailing reverent, almost worshipful kisses along Will’s body, combined with Mike’s long, searching fingers slowly taking him apart from the inside. He feels like he’s on the verge of losing it, moaning and rolling his hips down onto Mike’s fingers desperately, past the point of feeling embarrassed for how badly he needs more. Mike lets out a pleased hum, before he’s wordlessly pushing another finger inside Will and sinking his open mouth down onto Will’s cock. 

Will arches off the bed, moaning as his dick is engulfed in the wet heat of Mike’s mouth. The motion sends his cock further into Mike’s throat, and Mike makes a wet, gagging noise, drool starting to drip out of Mike’s mouth and onto Will’s thigh. It’s so unbelievably hot, so dirty that it makes Will moan even louder. 

“Oh my god, Mike,” Will babbles, one hand fisting the sheets underneath him and the other buried in Mike’s curls. His body can’t tell whether it should grind down on the clever twists of Mike’s fingers or thrust up into the delicious heat of his mouth, so all he can do is shake and tremble underneath Mike’s firm grip. He’s dangerously, humiliatingly close to coming already, but doesn’t want this to be over before Mike can actually fuck him. He squirms, trying to tell Mike as much, but every time he tries to speak, Mike presses impossibly deeper and all that comes out is desperate, broken moans and whimpers. All he can say is, “Oh fuck, Mike, Mike, please. Please, Mike, please. You have to stop -” 

Mike immediately pulls his mouth off with a filthy, wet pop, chest heaving a bit as he lifts his gaze to meet Will’s. “What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice gravely and wrecked. 

Will pants, trying to catch his breath, though it feels slightly impossible to do so when Mike’s looking at him like that and starting to gently thumb at the sensitive head of Will’s cock. “If you - fuck - if you don’t stop ‘m gonna come.” 

“Well, yeah. That’s the idea, baby,” Mike says with a crooked smile, the tips of his fingers grazing Will’s sweet spot and making him twitch. 

“But-” Will starts, but then the grazing turns to pressing and white hot pleasure flashes inside Will. He thrashes on the bed, trying to string together words through Mike’s assault on his prostate. “Want you to fuck me.” 

“Oh, trust me, I will,” Mike says, starting to pump lazily at Will’s weeping cock. Will grits his teeth together to stop himself from letting out more embarrassing noises. “I’m gonna make you come over and over again, until there’s no doubt in that pretty head of yours.” 

As Mike finishes speaking, the slow rhythm his fingers start to pick up, until he’s practically ramming them into Will at breakneck speed, hitting his prostate on every pass. Will lets out a cry, and can feel the moment when the dam breaks and tears start to stream down his cheeks. It’s so much, it’s too much - he feels like he’s been on the edge forever, and he knows he only needs a soft little push to go completely over. 

“Oh god, baby, you’re so pretty,” Mike whispers, so soft it sounds more like he’s talking to himself than Will. He leans forward and starts gently mouthing at the head of Will’s cock, lapping up the precum like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Will starts to shake, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as pleasure overtakes his whole body. “C’mon, let go for me, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” 

Somehow, Mike’s gentle words are what pushes him over the edge, and he arches off the bed with a loud sob, his entire body locking up as waves and waves of pleasure crash over him. Mike doesn’t let up once, continuing to kiss and lick lazily at Will’s tip and grind his fingers in tight, maddening circles right into Will’s prostate, drawing out Will’s orgasm impossibly long. It almost starts to hurt with how good it feels. 

“Mike,” Will slurs, his vision still blurred as he blindly grasps for Mike. “I can’t - too much.” 

Mike immediately stops, pausing a moment before pulling his fingers out of Will slowly. Will gasps at the immediate emptiness his body feels, and blushes at the way his hips instinctively tilt up to chase Mike’s fingers. If Mike notices, he chooses not to say anything, and instead crawls up the length of Will’s body to draw Will into a slow, sensual kiss. 

It’s enough to bring Will back to earth, to cut through the floaty haze that’s clouding Will’s brain from the overload of pleasure that Mike gave him. When they pull away Mike looks at him so adoringly that it makes Will blush and fight the urge to look away. Instead, he threads his fingers back through Mike’s curls, slightly addicted to the fact that he can do that now, and lets out a pleased sigh. 

“Hi,” Mike whispers, his thumb tracing circles on Will’s jaw. 

“Hi,” Will replies, trying not to tremble under the weight of Mike’s gaze. “I think you killed me.” 

Mike huffs out a surprised puff of laughter, blushing endearingly dark. “I hope not. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Will shivers at Mike’s words and when Mike shifts, realizes he must’ve blacked out for a moment for Mike to have gotten undressed as he feels the hard length of Mike’s cock pressing against his thigh. Any exhaustion and overstimulation immediately washes away and he rolls his hips up, reveling in the way it makes Mike hiss and screw his eyes shut like he’s in pain. 

“Mike,” Will pants, already losing himself in the warm, staticky pleasure of their cocks pressing together. Impossibly, he feels himself getting dangerously hard again already. Mike rolls his hips down, his cock so big it easily slides up the entire length of Will’s. He appears to be in no rush, lazily grinding against Will in a maddeningly slow way, which, obviously, just won’t do. Will needs him so bad, he can feel it in his teeth. “I need you, Mike. Need you to fuck me.”

“Condom?” Mike asks breathlessly. Will pauses, the reality of the situations suddenly slamming through him. He knows he probably should say yes, even if he knows he’s clean, but the thought of Mike coming inside, painting his insides, claiming him in every way imaginable has him vibrating with desire.

“No,” Will mumbles shyly, unable to fight the rising blush on his chest and cheeks. Mike blinks down at him owlishly. Will lets out a breathless sigh, averting his eyes from Mike’s piercing gaze. “I want to feel you. Please, Mike.”

“Fuck,” Mike mumbles, more to himself then anything, flushing. His eyes darken before he wordlessly leans back to grab the lube and slick himself up. Will watches unabashedly, practically salivating at the sight of Mike’s ridiculously big cock leaking onto the mattress. He wants another taste, wants to get his mouth back around it and make Mike come again, but the heavier, more desperate need to have Mike inside him, filling him up until he can’t think of anything else, wins out. 

Mike lazily pumps his cock, staring down at Will’s entrance with a small frown. Will can practically hear the gears turning in his head, the doubt in Mike’s mind that this will be too much for Will. Before Mike has the chance to let his doubts eat away at him and stop possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to Will, Will leans forward, grasping Mike’s cock and wrapping his leg around Mike’s waist to draw him in closer. Mike staggers forward, letting out a soft gasp as Will guides him to his entrance. It’s all the encouragement Mike needs before he’s leaning in, letting the head of his cock pop through Will’s entrance. 

A hot stab of pain shoots through him, and even though Mike thoroughly prepped him and opened him up, Will’s entire body tenses at the ridiculously large intrusion. Mike shushes him, running a soothing hand across Will’s trembling stomach as he continues to push in. 

It feels like he’s being split in half. Will is vaguely aware he’s letting out pained little whimpers and whines, and doesn’t realize he’s scratching at Mike’s back hard enough to draw blood until Mike lets out a soft groan into his ear. 

“Will - Jesus,” Mike wheezes out, shoving his face into Will’s neck. He’s practically shaking with what Will assumes is barely contained restraint. Will mindlessly threads his fingers through Mike’s curls and tugs, gentle, but sharp enough for Mike to gasp and send his hips another inch forward. Will whines, but the pain is slowly starting to make way for a slow, syrupy pleasure. “Shit - sorry, baby. God, you’re so tight.” 

“You’re so big,” Will whines, pressing his fingers harder into Mike’s scalp, as though it will bring him back to earth or erase any of the pain he’s feeling until all that exists is neverending pleasure. Mike groans in his ear again, the sound unhinged and almost animalistic. “Oh my god.” 

It’s all his brain can muster up the strength to say, but by the way Mike is panting and gripping him so tight it almost hurts, Mike doesn’t seem to mind. He’s slowly, carefully continuing to push deeper inside, stretching him out to what feels like an almost impossible degree. Mike mouths at the sweat beginning to pool at the base of his neck and lets out a low grumble, “Baby. ‘M only halfway.” 

“Halfway?” Will squeaks out, his body unconsciously tightening even more around Mike and making them both hiss at the added pressure. Mike shifts a little, his hips rolling just enough to send a hazy wave of pleasure piercing through the fading pain. “Oh fuck, oh fuck-” 

“Should I stop?” Mike asks, hips stilling. He lifts his head up, eyes dark and hazy, and looks like his own words are physically hurting him. At Will’s lack of answer he groans, letting his head drop back down to Will’s shoulder. “Will, baby, should I-” 

“Don’t stop!” Will hisses, wiggling his hips encouragingly. Mike makes a noise like he’s in pain, hands pressing into Will’s hips with bruising force and entire body shaking with effort. “Mike, don’t stop, please - please, just put it all the way in, please-” 

He’s rambling at this point, halfway to incoherency. Mike stills, which is the exact opposite of Will wants and is practically begging for. Using his ankles and legs, Will attempts to draw Mike in the last couple of inches, but Mike stays frustratingly, impossibly still. Will whines desperately, clawing at Mike’s back even harder, and rolling his hips up to meet Mike’s. Mike lets out one last wrecked groan, before his hips shoot forward, filling Will up with the rest of his cock. 

Will arches off the bed with a startled cry, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and holding onto Mike like a lifeline. It hurts, being filled and stretched so deeply to the point where Will feels like Mike is in his throat, but with Mike’s lack of movement, the pain quickly makes way for a hazy, delicious pleasure. 

“Will,” Mike whispers, hips twitching slightly and making Will moan, already desperate for more. “Tell me when I can move.” 

And god, Mike is so good to Will - ready to sacrifice his own pleasure to make sure Will is okay, to make sure Will is feeling good. The thought sends warmth through Will, cutting even further through the burn. Mike makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat, his entire body almost vibrating with how hard he must be holding himself back. Will moans, unable to help himself, pressing his fingers into Mike’s heated skin. 

“You’re so fucking deep, Mike,” Will croaks out. Deep doesn’t seem to encompass how it feels like Mike’s cock is trying to carve out a home in Will’s body, nested right next to his heart. Mike places a soothing hand on Will’s stomach, hushing the little whines that Will continuously lets out, until his hand suddenly pauses. 

“Holy shit,” Mike breathes out, awed. “Baby, that’s me.” 

“Huh?” Will slurs out, more than a little dazed. 

“Look down, look at your stomach,” Mike pleads. Will glances down, half delirious, and the sight wrecks him. Just below his navel, his stomach distends slightly, a bulge that is undoubtedly, undeniably Mike. Will thinks that maybe Mike really is trying to rearrange his insides to make space for his cock, and is about to say as much, when Mike’s hand rubs the bulge gently for a moment and then presses. 

Will arches off the bed with a sharp cry, any pain in his body instantly evaporating at the intensity of feeling Mike from both the inside and outside. He grinds his teeth together hard, trying not to come on the spot, and his legs shake where they’re wrapped weakly around Mike’s waist. 

“Fuck,” Mike breathes, pressing down experimentally harder, making Will sob. 

“Move, please, Mike,” Will whines. Mike makes another noise, this one more confused than hurt, and stays still, thumbing over the bulge in Will’s stomach like he can’t bear to stop touching it, even for a moment. The idea of Mike being pushed past the point of words, of being as desperate as Will feels, has Will moaning and whining, arching his back and trying to get Mike in impossibly deeper. “Mike, oh my god, fucking move. I - ah - I need you to fuck me.” 

“I’m trying to be gentle,” Mike says softly, so reverently and adoringly it makes Will shake. “I wanna show you how much I love you.” 

Mike’s words melt something inside Will, and he reaches up, thumbing at Mike’s cheek. It’s shockingly intimate, somehow more intimate than Mike’s cock literally being inside Will, and Will can’t help but blush. 

“You are showing me, Mike,” Will whispers, scared to talk any louder for fear of breaking the bubble of safety they’ve created around themselves. “But I don’t want you to be gentle. I’ve wanted this for - for so long. I need it. I need you.”

It seems to be all the permission Mike needs before his hips twitch once, then start a heavy, deep rhythm of pounding into Will. Mike stops pushing his hand into Will’s stomach, for which Will is somewhat grateful because he’s not sure how much longer he would’ve lasted with the onslaught of white hot pleasure. It all feels insanely, impossibly good, and Will dazedly wonders if Mike’s cock has supernatural properties for how delicious it feels. Mike isn’t really even thrusting, more so just rolling his hips languidly, so his cock never leaves its spot inside Will, and instead stays grinding into him at every pass. 

“Mike, Mike, Mike,” Will moans, clutching at Mike, drawing him in even closer. It feels like the only words he can even speak, that, and, “Harder, Mike, fuck, harder.” 

Will’s words seem to draw Mike out of his haze, because the next thing Will knows, Mike is hiking his legs up to essentially fold Will in half, and slamming into Will with such ferocity that Will can distantly hear the headboard smacking into the wall. 

Will knows he’s being loud, moaning and crying and stringing together noises that vaguely resemble Mike’s name, but can’t bring himself to care. Not when Mike is pounding into him hard enough for him to see starts, his cock slamming into Will’s prostate with every forceful thrust. Through the static steadily increasing in Will’s brain, he can make out Mike letting out an endless string of dirty noises and even dirtier words. 

“You take my cock so well, baby. Need to keep you like this all the time, full of me, never gonna let you go. Gotta fuck you every day,” he breathes out into Will’s ear. Will shivers at the thought of taking Mike like this every day, getting better and better and taking Mike’s big cock until he doesn’t even have to wait to adjust, Mike can just slide right in and start fucking him like this - like he’s trying to put Will through the mattress. Will moans as the images shoot through his mind. Mike huffs out a surprised laugh, like he wasn’t quite sure that Will could actually process any of his words. “Yeah, baby, you’d like that?”

“Love it,” Will slurs, so full of pleasure that he can barely speak. He keeps letting out embarrassingly little uhuhuh’s, cries ricocheting through the apartment at a steadily increasing volume. Mike hums, nipping at Will’s throat and urging him to continue. “Mike, ‘m so full. You’re so big.” 

"10.03, baby," Mike huffs out. He sounds way too cocky, way too put together, and normally it would make Will roll his eyes, but now, it only makes him moan and thrash on the bed.

"Fuck, 's good," Will pants. "So good, so good-"

“Yeah,” Mike says somewhat reverently, stroking Will’s cheek shockingly gently in contrast to the brutal, almost violent way he’s fucking Will. “You love my cock?” 

“I love you,” Will answers immediately, feeling a warm wave of power pulse through him at the way it makes Mike shiver above him. 

“I love you so much,” Mike says, pressing his face into Will’s shoulder. The angle draws Mike in even closer, so his cock is pressed against Will’s sweet spot on a constant basis, shooting white hot, toe-curling pleasure through Will. “I love you, I love you, I love you-” 

If asked, Will would probably say he came untouched from the feeling of Mike’s frankly ridiculously large cock pressing into him, or the way his hands are gripping him at bruising force, but deep down, he knows it’s from Mike’s chanting, from Mike saying I love you over and over again like it’s tied to his very life force. He arches off the bed with a deep, wrecked moan, his cock spurting between them and painting his trembling stomach white. 

“Oh fuck,” Mike groans, “Oh fuck, you’re, - oh - you’re so tight -” 

Will moans, clenching instinctively down on Mike, knowing, even through his haze, that he needs to keep Mike inside for as long as possible. Mike hisses like he’s in pain, shifting backwards like he’s trying to pull out, and Will whines, clutching his back to draw him back in. 

“Baby, I need to pull out,” Mike says, voice turning desperate, almost frantic. 

“Don’t,” Will can only slur out. His eyes roll back at the staticky pleasure that rolls through his body as Mike’s hips jerk deeper into him. “Keep - unh - keep going.” 

“Will,” Mike warns, but he’s betrayed by the way his cock gets impossibly harder inside Will. Will feels a little like he’s floating out of his body, like he’s strung up as a puppet with Mike pulling the strings with every push of his cock, but he knows he wants to be as good for Mike as Mike is to him. More than that, he feels slightly drunk with the thought of Mike coming deep inside him, claiming him, making Will his. Unable to even speak anymore, Will wordlessly rolls his hips up, arching his back and trying to convey his almost animalistic need for Mike to take him. Mike groans, lets Will’s legs fall so they’re wrapped lazily around his hips. “Will-”

“More,” Will whispers, his own voice shocking him with how gravely and utterly destroyed it sounds. “Want - inside, please.” 

“Yeah?” Mike breathes out, the amount of naked adoration in his eyes making Will shake. Will nods rapidly, fearing words will fail him. Mike groans, his hips starting to move on their own accord as he starts lazily pumping into Will again. “Want me to come inside you? You wanna be full?” 

Will nods again, starting to shake as Mike’s rhythm starts to increase. He can’t think, can only chant, “Fill me up, fill me up, fill me up.” 

“Fuck, baby, I’ll fill you up right here,” Mike groans, pressing his palm back into the bulge in Will’s stomach. Will sobs, feeling his legs start to tremble around Mike’s waist uncontrollably. Although his dick is limp against his stomach, he feels impossibly close to the edge again, like he’s just a push away from losing it. Real, fat tears are rolling down his face in full force. Mike leans forward, grinding his hips in maddening circles and groans. “Shit, I’m gonna come.”

Will clenches down on Mike, like his body is trying to milk him dry, and Mike moans, loud and wrecked in Will’s ear, his hips slamming in one last time before Will feels himself being filled. It’s warm and almost neverending, and enough to push Will over the edge again. He sobs, shaking with the force of his orgasm, as his spent limp cock twitches somewhat pathetically on his stomach. 

Will feels like he’s floating endlessly through space and time, and after what feels like forever, is brought back down to earth by Mike’s gentle touch on his waist. He blinks, realizing his vision is thick with watery tears. It’s only after a few moments that Will realizes Mike is speaking to him, his voice low and soothing in Will's ear. 

“Come back to me, Will. Come back, baby,” Mike whispers, rubbing large, looping circles onto Will’s skin. Mike hasn’t pulled out yet and Will realizes with a tired, hazy jolt that he doesn’t really want him to. 

“Mike,” Will breathes out. It comes out without his permission, but the way Mike blinks down at him makes it all worth it. 

“There you are,” Mike says gently, wiping away the tears streaking down Will’s cheeks. “Are you okay?” 

Will nods, feeling too raw and vulnerable to speak. Mike sighs contently, moving like he’s going to get up, or worse, pull out, and Will whines, tightening the grip of his legs on Mike’s waist. 

“I’m gonna get water. And something to clean you up with,” Mike explains, as if that makes it any better. Will feels his lip wobble, feels like he might die if Mike leaves right now. 

“Don’t go,” Will manages to mumble. Mike opens his mouth like he’s thinking of protesting, but then clamps it shut, apparently unable to deny Will anything. The thought makes something warm curl in Will’s stomach and he pulls Mike in closer, tangling him in a hug that would feel endearing if not for the stretching girth in Will’s ass. Mike sighs out against his chest, pressing wet kisses into his skin as Will slowly starts to come down. 

Will isn’t sure how long they lay like that, but feels his body start to shiver and shake as his temperature starts to drop. Mike, who has noticed every little shift in Will ever since they were kids, doesn’t even wait for Will to say anything, simply shifts and pulls the crumpled sheets over them, encasing them in a warm, soft cocoon. 

Mike blinks down at Will, a soft, adoring smile creeping across his lips. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this every day. For the rest of our lives.” 

“That’s presumptuous, no?” Will croaks out, finding his voice even though it feels raw and something not quite human. “You getting me a ring or something?” 

“Yes,” Mike answers instantly, with such certainty that it makes Will blush. “Would you say yes?” 

He’s clearly aiming for flirty, but Will recognizes the doubt and anxiety that’s slowly starting to creep into his mind. Will traces mindless shapes onto his arm. “Obviously,” Will answers, hoping to quell whatever doubt is in Mike’s mind. 

Mike smiles down at him, so soft and fond that it makes Will’s heart do a somersault in his chest. He wordlessly lays his head across Will’s chest, his ear directly above Will’s heart. In the next couple minutes, Will knows Mike will have to pull out. In the next couple of days they’re going to have to talk more about this, what it means for their lives. But for now, they can simply exist, wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing oxygen, and rapidly syncing heartbeats, with not a care in the world besides each other.