as much as i love top mike, bottom mike is also so good. feel free to scroll if this isnât your cup of tea.
just imagining mikeâs face pressed against his bed, laying on his stomach, ass out as he pulls his briefs down to sit right under his cheeks, giving it some plump. he has a big cock and itâs pressing hotly against his bedsheets, already collecting a bead of precum at the tip. he has his signature season 5 yellow-collared sweater on and itâs rumpled up, riding his lower back, giving more to view. he turns slightly, eyes heavy on willâs timid face. fuck me, will mike wants to say. youâre mine, youâre always mine, he desperately wants to say.
but he doesnât. he just breathes hard through his nose, his heart hammering in his chest. presses his face back on the sheets.
this mike loves to bottom for will, loves the feel of willâs unsure, shy hands taking him by waist, lifting his ass a little up. willâs cock is a little smaller than his but girthier, fuller and its now pressing against his ass, the tip catching at the cleft - mike scrunches his eyes shut and swallows down the heat flashing over his face and chest. he lets out a moan through his throat and itâs so, so embarrassing but he knows in just a minute heâll get over it soon enough.
how quickly it goes â will lubing his own cock with mike rubbing lube over his own hole, dipping in his fingers as will watches in simple amazement. will, so shy will, thinking heâd be the one bottoming, thinking thatâs what mike would want. will just watches, slack-jawed as mike lay on his side, jeans and boxers now scrunched down at his ankles, dipping two fingers into himself as his soft pink lips part, eyes getting dazey, foggy, staring up into willâs
âfuck.â mike whispers. âfuck, will.â
willâs hard cock bobs in his hand and mike knows will isnât even thinking when he suddenly takes mike by the waist again and pulls him even closer, taking his lubed fingers out. mike relaxes pleasurably at the slip out but then watches will shuts his eyes, breathes funny, like he almost came, as he rubs his cock against mikeâs pinkish rim. just that is enough â mikeâs eyes involuntarily roll to his back of his head, not caring in the world, hand sticky with lube, spreading his cheeks a little more open for will. go in. please.
itâs that movement that helps willâs tip slide in with complete ease and both of their breath catchâ mike feeling the thickness of willâs cock stretching him, burning him so, so good â and will feeling the engulfing heat, the velvet warmth of mike, sucking him in, pulsing around him. will is moaning sweetly, whispering meek mikeâs over and over, and pushing himself further in while leaning forward over mike, wanting to kiss him, taste his tongue, fuck his mouth.
mike knows all of what will wants. he wants it the same. he scoots just a bit, pushing his ass down and will is completely in, catching his prostrate at the sudden move. mike is enthralled, enraptured and opens his hot mouth to let will fuck him there too as will begins to thrust into him in automatic, heated, sticky, unthinking pleasure.
in a second their tongues are wet and sliding over each other as will is fucking his ass deeply, fucking him good and hitting his prostrate. mike isnât just moaning, breathing hard between their kiss-fuckingâ heâs almost gasping, trying to ignore how much he fucking loves this. how much heâs in love with will and his nice fat cock. he knows heâs crying. the tears on his cheeks, the shine of them catching from the light and he knows will can even feel the wetness on his face. mike doesnât care. will is all his and thatâs how itâll always be. he isnât scared to show it anymore.
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Mike comes only two thrusts in and Will comes at the same time because Mikeâs meek âWillâ itâs so tightâ Iâm gonnaââ was also enough to send him over the edge.
Itâs even hotter when Mike is still hard in him afterwards- even as heâs almost passed out and slumped over Will, trying to catch his breath. His hips are already moving though, automatically thrusting deep into Willâs heat as his cum begins to dribble out. He wants to cum even more.
âSo good- fuckââ Mike sounds so delirious but Will canât talk. Heâs been moaning gibberish with some âMike youâre â too bigââ in his pillow this entire time, completely unraveled. With the friction of the bed rubbing his sensitive dick and the head of Mikeâs cock pressing against something in him, Will can barely contain another sobbing gasp as he feels another wave of cum about to be milked from him.
will sucking mikeâs cock so tenderly and sweet at first. heâs so shy and still in kind of disbelief theyâre together and doing thisâŚ.to then only a couple of weeks later heâs deep-throating mikeâs cock with his precum all over his lips, while willâs own dick just cums at hearing mikeâs gaspy moans and the feeling of his hips thrusting jerkily into his throat. âwill,â mikeâs voice is high while heâs panting. âwill, willâgodââ
it doesnât help that mike always has too much cum and will canât ever get enough.
sneak peak of the buff!mike oneshot i'm working on. this is a draft and stuff might change. hopefully i'll get it posted next week or so.
Mike wasnât ripped, not really. But after everythingâwhat happened to Hawkins, the long nights, learning to live every day with their new reality âheâd started lifting. It was small weights at first. Then more. And then Nancy came by, approving, showing him how to handle a shotgun.
For protection, Mike told the party one day when Lucas had eyed it at his side. Dustin could only nod, solemn. "For peace of mind," when Mike noticed Will said nothing.
He was staying at the Wheeler's now. Same reason as before, for peace of mind. Mike told his mom he wanted him close, to watch him. Be by his side like three years ago in that shed, at the lab. Joyce agreed, reluctantly. Will had been pleading with her already.
But now, Will was considering⌠if it had been a mistake.
Mike wasn't buff or anything. Just enough that his arms stretched the seams of his old shirts. He stopped wearing sleeves around the house. Tanks were easier, he said. It was better to wear with the heat in the house, he also said. Something like that. Not to show off or anything.
Will was losing his mind.
He didnât ask questions. At the Wheelersâ, he mostly stayed in the basement, kept his head down, and triedâreally triedânot to stare at Mike. Sometimes he even skipped dinner. He was scared heâd be too obvious, or maybe act too weird and someone would notice. Tonight was one of those nights.
But it didn't matter.
No matter where he was, living with Mike made it impossible to function sometimes. Every time Mike walked byâsweaty from working out, or fresh from the shower with damp hair curling at the edgesâWillâs eyes followed him involuntarily. It was automatic; like breathing. Like panic.
He just wanted to go up to Mike one day after a shower. Get on his knees and slide his pants down until his cock sprang free, maybe even catching Will by his lips, practically begging for him to suck it. He could already see Mike groaning, hitching his shirt up to expose his toned stomach and nicely formed pecs. He'd run a hand into Will's hair, pressing his face against his cock--
There was a gentle knock at the door.
Will breathed through his nose, willing his growing hardness to go away. It didn't take much effort as he already gotten weeks of practice.
âWill,â Mike said, voice low. âYou down there?â
Mike.
Before he could answer, the basement door creaked open. And there he was-- Will watched as Mike stepped onto the stairs, closing the door quietly behind him.
Tank top. Damp hair. Shoulders slightly broad and toned, catching the low basement light.
Mike came down slowly, that familiar soft smile tugging at his lips.
âHey.â
Will swallowed and straightened. âHey.â
Mike scratched the back of his neck, muscles flexing. âJustâ I thought you mightâve left or something. To Hopper's cabin."
Will blinked. âWhy would I leave?â
Mike shrugged, stepping a little farther in. âDunno. Youâve been kinda⌠quiet lately.â
Willâs eyes dropped to the floor. Of course Mike noticed. âIâm always quiet.â
"Not like this."
Will wanted to kiss him. Kiss him hard, kiss him sweet and never let go. Mike knew him too well, and yet...
âYou didn't join us for dinner,â Mike said, dropping into the armchair across from him. âMom saved you leftovers.â
Will nodded too quickly. âYeah. Thanks. Just⌠I wanted to be by myself for a second.â
Mike leaned back, arms draped along the sides of the chair, casual in a way that made Willâs mouth go dry. His eyes scanned the basement like he needed an excuse to be here.
âI don't mean to push Will. I just- I don't know." Mike took a breath. âI⌠I worry.â
Will wished Mike was closer, next to him. He would hold him so close. âYou donât have to, Mike."
âI know,â Mike replied. âDoesnât stop me.â
Silence folded in around them. There was a soft creak of floorboards from movement upstairs. The silence - it wasnât uncomfortable. It was warm. Almost a sort of nice heaviness.
âI like it better when you talk to me,â Mike added, voice barely above a murmur.
Willâs chest tightened. He looked down, hands tightening around the blanket at his waist.
âIâm trying,â he finally said. âItâs just hard when you look likeââ He stopped himself. What was he even saying?
Mike leaned forward slightly. âLike what?â
Willâs heart stumbled. âLike..."
Mike waited for him to finish, brows gently raised, plush lips parted in quiet anticipation. His eyes held a steady focus, wide and clear, catching the light in a way that made them look almost glassy.
Will stared at him in almost defeat.
"Like that.â He said quietly. âYou're all strong now and..." He knew his face was rapidly turning a shade of pink, though he pretended not to notice. "Youâre wearing these...muscle tops."
Mike was still for moment before he let out a soft, surprised laugh. He looked down at his tank like he was seeing it for the first time. âWhatâthis? Itâs just comfortable,â he said, tugging at the strap. âMom also always has the thermostat at 80, so...â
Will wanted to crawl under the couch.
What was he even doing? Why was he even mentioning this to Mike?
The night came and Will was home alone; Jonathan was working a double and his mom a shift at her second job. He was used to the quiet. The low rumbling of the TV in his bedroom and the sound of cicadas outside always accompanied him throughout the house.
Will was in the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, wiping the mirror. He took a look at himself for a moment. His hair grew over the summer and he hadnât been eating much. He looked⌠He didnât like how he looked. Something in his appearance made him unsure; one moment he knew exactly who he was, and the next, he no longer recognized the person staring back at him. It was as if the face before him was someone elseâs.
He clicked the bathroom light off.
In his room, he changed into his pajamas and hoped to sleep the insecurities away, though it was useless. They chipped at him with each breath he took and, no matter how often it affected him, it always hurt like it was the first time. He just felt all so wrong. In bed he tossed and turned until he couldnât anymore, covers coming off. Laying still, a pale strip of moonlight lay across his chest. The cicadas sounded louder and the TV, droning. He tried to quell the familiar burn of an oncoming cry tightening his throat.
âI wish,â he whispered, trying to steady his voice, âI wish I had someone. Someone who would like me for me and thatâd be okay. Where I wouldnât⌠I wouldnât have to change myself at all. Andâ and I wishâŚâ He thought of the other day when he went to visit Lucas. Erica had warned him it wasnât a good time, but he figured it was nothing until he was at Lucasâ bedroom door. Itâd been cracked open enough where he could see what Lucas and Max were doing, or beginning to do.
âI wish I had someone,â he started again, closing his eyes, âsomeone to hold me too. To kiâkiss me. To show me what that feels like.â A flush began to color his face and he bit his lip, feeling strangely conscious under the moonlight. He pictured, faintly, someone drawing him close, whispering that Will was all he would ever need. It was his favorite daydream, and he lingered in it, savoring the quiet promise of relief. Again and again, he replayed the scene, letting it soothe him until his breath steadied and his eyelids grew heavy.
And then the cicadas were quiet. He no longer heard the TV.
But it was strange. He was still awake.
Will blearily peaked an eye open to the darkness.
A man was hovering him, arms on either sides of Willâs head.
âHello, Will.â
His voice was light. He was staring at Will calmly, barely looking any older than his age, yet something about him told of maturity, of coming from an older time. He appeared almost made from marble.
Will couldnât move. Fear had already paralyzed his bones.
âWilliam.â The man said.
Will whimpered as the man gave a simpering smile. His too white teeth glinted with his paleness, his fangs noticeable above all. Will began trembling, his lips parting. He wanted to scream.
âYou called for me and I heard you.â The man leaned close. His breath was cold. âI found you after this all time.â
Will shook his head, or at least he tried to. He only could lay there, eyes wide as the man nuzzled his neck, breathing him in. He scrunched his eyes shut. His heart began to pound. His body began feeling hot and his chest tight. He didnât realize, but his hands, his arms - they were around the manâs back, hugging him closer.
âWill,â The man huffed a laugh into his neck, âas always, your body remembers me.â
This time, Will managed to shake his headâbarely. "Though you never called me that," the man eased back, his gaze warm with something unspoken. âMy name. It's Micheal."
The dread melted from Will in an instant then. It was as if it had never been there at all.
Out of his control, Will suddenly hugged Michael closer, bringing his body flush with his. Another sound escaped him, a gasp of relief, of⌠gratitude? He felt so different, so foreign, as if he were in a dream and who he was was not himself. And yet, he felt at total peace. In his mind, he felt a haze so heavy and a name that was now already at the tip of his tongue. He knew he felt in absolute love in this dream, in this haze.
âMike.â He breathed.
He felt the man smile against his neck, hugging Will even closer. âThat's me." He murmured.
Will smiled drunkenly, his hand now in his Michealâs hair, the other still holding his back. His lips began to move though he felt not present. âMike.â
âFuck, Will.â In Willâs haze, he barely registered Mikeâs heavy breathing before warm lips found his neck, sending a shiver through him. It was so ticklish that Will let out a breathy giggle, gently tugging at a handful of Mikeâs hair, hoping to pull him away and make him stop. He felt a flicker of confusion when his hand did the opposite, pressing Mikeâs face deeper into his neck, his fangs grazing his skin. At this, Mikeâs movements grew urgent, lifting Willâs hips suddenly as he began slipping off his pants. Will didnât even know who Mike even was, but he helped raise his own hips anyway, laughing shyly. The cool air hit his ass and Will felt his dick stiff and already leaking, some precum catching on his thighs.
Before he could let out a moan, Mikeâs lips were on his, his tongue already sliding against Will's, over and over, hot and cold all rolling against each other. He moaned against Mikeâs lips, unable to properly speak, unable to feel anything but complete rapture. He was so lost he barely realized his thighs had been spread apart and Mike was between them, undoing his own pants, freeing himself. Will felt it then, the hardness of Mikeâs cock pressed against his as Mike aligned himself, groaning into Willâs mouth.
"It's been too long." Mike said, breathy as he held both of their dicks, rubbing himself against him. "I missed you, Will. I missed you so much."
It was already hot mess of precum, or just cum, Will couldnât be sure. Somewhere in all the kissing, he felt he came already. Heâd never done this before, with anyone for that matter, and here he was - moaning as Mike grabbed him by his jaw, making him stick out his tongue as he slid his own against it, kissing him deeply again and again, as if his life depended on it. Will nearly couldnât breathe but he didnât care. Never in his life had something felt so right as this. At some point, Mike then held either sides of Will's face, whispering his name over and over, trying to keep him still while his hips rutted jerkily, his own cock rubbing wetly against Willâs. And then Will was gone again, his eyes rolling back as he felt another orgasm hit him, cum dribbling all over Mikeâs cock and some spilling on their chests.
âMike.â His voice cracked. He had no idea what has happening anymore, only feeling his cock pulse in sensitivity and his throat so dry in how breathless he was. In his delirium, a memory flickered in his mind. A dream within a dream.
It was Mike, smiling at him. He was buttoning his waistcoat, giving him a gleeful eye. âYou do know Iâll reject her proposal, right?â
Another memory. Mike, shirtless, burn wounds littered over his chest. A heart-shaped one over his cheek. Will saw a hand that looked much like his own come to ghost over it and Mike closed his eyes, leaning against it. âWill.â He murmured.
âMike.â He heard himself say. In memory or in this dream, or in real life, he couldnât be sure. He couldn't be sure what this was.
Will opened his eyes, not knowing when he closed them. Mike had sat up on his knees, raising Willâs legs to rest on either sides of himself. His dark hair was ruffled over his eyes and in the darkness of Willâs room, he looked like a breathing statue.
âDo you remember me now, Will?â
Will blinked sluggishly, breath still coming in quick bursts. It was only a moment before he lifted his hand hesitantly, and Mike leaned in, watching as Willâs fingers brushed the spot on his cheek where the heart-shaped burn had once been.
Mikeâs lips curved into a slow smile, his fangs flashing sharply against his skin. âYouâre remembering,â he whispered, voice thick with emotion.
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thinking of university byler but they meet at university.
mike writes, reads and reads, gets glasses and lets his hair grow bit. ernest hemingway to edmund white. along the way, heâs picked up smoking and in his turtlenecks and cardigans, a cigarette burns sometimes between his plush lips. at night heâs just ember and brown eyes that look like the void, sitting at the english building steps, reading pages from some required classic while illuminated by the street lamps. his thoughts always slip to that painter, will byers. heâs in that one class they both share, storytelling - canât mike be a part of his? but mike canât even say hi, hello, hey, because mike is mike. he wonders if will knows he exists? such a sad question to ask, considering itâs only few weeks left of the semester. some ash falls on mikeâs knuckles and burns him a bit but all mike can think of is why isnât will byers next to him right now, huddled close and snuffing out his cigarette like a good boyfriend would do?
will paints. draws a lot, too much actually. always in oversized sweaters, flannels underneath, paintbrushes sticking out of his back pocket. heâs in museums, galleries, jogging in, breathless and painfully cute, though a sore thumb - heâs always too close to the paintings, trying to catch the minute strokes. round? flat? will is all shaggy, dishelved hair and smell of coffee, some hints of honey. youâll catch will byers usually rushing to class, like he does with museums, galleries, the bus, anywhere. and his corduroys always have dried gouache on them, coffee too. professors are never upset when heâs late - his lips, full and sweet with a apologetic smile often have people stop to stare at his best work: himself. he never notices though. heâs too busy staring or daydreaming at his muse: mike wheeler. eng major, brooding usually but then grins a whole lot when heâs right about something. heâs beautiful, will thinks. donât look at the turned canvases in will byersâ room - youâll wonder why a raven with a cigarette perched between his beak is his latest fascination.
As Will sleeps and dreams, Mike realizes for the first times in months Will is finally resting - actually resting. Itâs something close to pure sedation. Mike puckers his lips and softly blows on his face. Will doesnât stir, much less twitch his lips. âWill.â Mike breathes, happy to see it.
Itâs several moments later and through the window, the burn of the late afternoon is gone. All that remains is the light from the moon. It illuminates some of Willâs face, sides partially obscured from some of Mikeâs pillows. His lips are parted and his shirt is rumpled up to his collarbones. There, in his nakedness, his puffy nipples are somewhat perky - stuck between sleep and warmth and arousal. Mikeâs eyes go south to Willâs soft belly that rises and lowers. Itâs a little firm with slight ab indentations. Itâs a little more than perfect.
âIs Will sleeping?â Mike stands still but Elâs voice doesnât get any closer from behind him. She stands outside the doorway.
âYeah.â He says.
Eleven nods, he knows. âYour mother. She is asking for you to join dinner. Meatloaf.â
He half-turns. His hair is a mess over his eyes and heâs sure if he turns anymore, she will see Will the way heâs left him. When he tries to meet her eyes, she is looking down at her feet.
âOkay.â
She raises her eyes and Mike can see she misses him. In what way, he isnât sure. âOkay?â She asks.
Their eyes continue meet evenly for a moment. He knows as well as she does that lying is tired game for them both. âActually,â he looks off, âcan you tell her Iâm not hungry?â
âYou would like to watch Will?â
Elevenâs smile doesnât meet her eyes though she lingers, hoping for an opposite answer regardless. Mike just gives her a simple nod.
âJoyce will come up after dinner.â She presses.
Mike shrugs. âTell her Iâll watch him tonight.â
He turns back to Will before she says anything else. Before someone else comes down the hallway and wonders where he is. He hears Eleven breathe through her nose and she is frustrated.
âOkay, Mike. I will let her know.â
And she leaves. The door slowly moves to the way it was, shut and lockedâŚnow with a pointed click. Mike squints in annoyance, his own words haunting him. I love you with and without your superpowers.
Will mumbles something in his sleep. His heart thuds and he realizes heâs back to being alone. Itâs just him and Will. As it should be. But itâs different now.
His arousal is gone. Heâs in reality. He almost did something. But noâŚhe wouldnât have.
(Will had fell asleep but then he looked knocked cold, had felt coldâ was it the mindflayer, was it⌠him? Mike had raised Willâs shirt, splaying his hand on his chest, feeling the warmth, seeing rise and fall of itâand then he sat at Willâs side. Frozen, it seemed like. How could he get up? Felt like hours passed when it was just minutes. His hard-on thrummed with each hard beat of his own chest, the sight of his actions were in no comparison to the sight of an almost naked Will Byers.
When he finally got up, he thought he couldnât take it anymore. Willâs soft nipples, his nice pecs and the peek of his briefs â)
The burning thought itches heavy on his skin.
I would have.
Mike calmly walks over and lowers Willâs shirt as it was.