kitt

"You like taking care of me? Or do you just like the way I sound when I'm in control?"

Will choked on a gulp, his face burning. He looked down at his lap, the friction of his sweatpants suddenly feeling very prominent.

"I uhm- I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar," Mike whispered.

Through the headset, Will could hear Mike’s breathing and it was heavy, matched perfectly to his own.

"No-Jus-"

"I can hear how you're breathing, Will. Why don't you put the controller down for a second and tell me what you're thinking about?"

Will was frozen from being way too flustered.

"I asked you a question, Will,"

"What are you thinking about right now?"

Will couldn't speak - he felt small, seen, exposed and completely undone.

"Nothing?" Mike prompted, a knowing chuckle vibrating through the line.

"You’re so quiet. But I can practically hear your heartbeat through the mic, I swear to God… you like it, don't you? You like hearing me like this. You liked those sounds I was making."

"I'm listening to you-"

"You're worked up, aren't you?"

Mike wasn't going to stop, he wasn't going to let up and change the subject, Will’s eyes drifted shut. He tried to shake the hardness of himself off but with no use. He swallowed hard, and nodded reflexively before remembering Mike couldn't see him.

"I need to hear it,"

"Yes," Will finally choked out, the word barely a thread of sound.

"Yes, Mike."

"Good. That’s what I wanted to hear,"

The approval hit Will like a physical wave.

"Now, I know you're alone. I know you've got that big bed all to yourself. Get comfortable - grab one of those pillows. - put it between your legs,"

Will circled back to Mike's profile and continued analysing his profile.

One of the newer pictures showed Mike making out with some girl at what looked like a party, camera flash bleaching everything silver-white.The kiss looked deeply unpleasant. Too much mouth. Too much tongue and visible saliva.

Gross.

It looked like Mike was trying to consume her whole face competitively. Will physically grimaced.

He is definitely a bad kisser.

He's probably one of those guys that swallows your face and somehow ends up including your nose in the makeout session.

He's probably the type to stick his tongue all the way down your throat.

He looks like the type to never carry around chapstick, his lips must look like the ground of a dessert.

His tongue probably tastes acidic and like beer too.

Will liked beer.

Stop thinking about his lips.

Mike Wheeler is definitely a bad kisser.

-

read it here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/84415116/chapters/222670191#workskin

a lawless byler smau where geeky art student Will Byers didn’t mean to start flirting with his roommate’s Myspace-famous, dirtbag best friend, but unfortunately Mike Wheeler keeps sweet talking.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/84415116/chapters/222670191

Their teeth knock a little, and it’s messy immediately, Mike’s lips are dry and -yeah, Mike definitely bites Will too hard at one point.

“-mmh” Will makes this half-noise into the kiss, and Mike pulls back just enough to look at him.

“…sorry,” Mike mutters automatically.

Will looks at him,lip bleeding a bit now, hair full of dry leaves.

“…shut up,” he says, and kisses him again.

They’re a mess.

Mike’s got dirt on his face. Will has actual dry leaves in his hair. They both smell like lake water and sweat and beer, and they’re literally lying in the dirt.

From the outside, this would look horrendous.

Like, genuinely embarrassing.

But here’s the thing-

It’s the first time they’ve ever kissed like this without anyone around.

And it’s kind of a disaster.

And it’s perfect.

Mike hates it.

Not the kiss part, but the things he had heard Will say.

It doesn’t mean anything.

---

His hand comes down against Mike’s chest again, the tips of his fingers pushing at his rib cage. A small push with each word, like he’s emphasizing it.

“Doesn’t,” Will says again, pressing down a little more.

“Mean,” another push, coming in closer their faces barely a few inches apart.

Mike’s breathing stutters.

“Anything.”

This time the pressure lingers, his palm flat against Mike’s chest, holding him there.

Mike’s vision blurs for a second, whether from the alcohol or everything else

Neither of them has moved.

“Kiss me, Mike.”

Mike’s head shakes before he can even think about it.

“No,” he murmurs, his face tightening as he tries to keep it together and not give in. His brows pull together, eyes watering,he’s one second away from crying again and he knows it.

Will’s expression falters.

“Mike… kiss me, please.”

Mike squeezes his eyes shut for a second, shaking his head again. “No,” he repeats, barely audible.

Will doesn’t stop.

He leans in anyway.

Mike turns his face to the side at the last second, the kiss missing, brushing near his cheek instead.

Will exhales then his hand comes up.

He cups Mike’s jaw, thumb brushing against his cheek as he turns Mikes face back toward him.

Then closes the distance.

And this time, Mike doesn’t turn away.

And it’s-

God, it’s so soft.

---

“Just look at me for a second, okay?”

And Mike does turn around, he turns all too quickly.

He comes up without thinking and he shoves Will back. His fingertips come in contact with Will's chest briefly. The motion made Will stumble slightly, disorientating him.

Mike watches Will regain his balance, and while wanting nothing more than to catch him whilst he almost falls Mike turns his back on him.

And starts walking away.

“Mike!” Will calls after him, his voice full of anger now.

“What the hell was that?!”

Will catches up quicker than Mike expects.

A hand grabs his shoulder-

And then shoves.

Mike stumbles forward hard, his foot catching wrong, balance already shot. The ground comes closer fast, knocking the breath out of him as he hits it, one of his knees scraping the gravel under him along with both of his palms.

Mike raises his head and turns to the side in order to catch a glimpse of Will behind him, his chest heaving, hair falling into his eyes.

Will stops dead in his tracks. His facial expression turned from anger to worry.

“Oh my god- shit, Mike, I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He steps forward quickly towards Mike, already leaning down to get a hold of him.

"I didn’t think you’d actually- are you okay?”

But Mike wasn't paying attention to Will’s cooing, he pushed himself up-

And this time he’s the one who shoves.

Harder.

Both hands, straight into Will’s chest.

Will goes down with a startled grunt, hitting the ground where Mike had been a second ago, the air knocked out of him, falling onto his ass, releasing a sound resembling a hurt puppy.

---

Mike’s uncapped the bottle, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers while trying to play it cool. “Of course I do,” he muttered. “I don’t want to hurt you, Will.”

Will tilted his head. “And how exactly do you know that?”