Chapter Text
The small crowds, muffled voices and strong jazz music. It all seemed pretty normal to Mike now. Embarrassingly, this dive bar could be classified as his second home, considering both bartenders know him by first name and his drink of choice that night. It wasn’t always supposed to be like this. He had dreams of being this incredible writer, making cult classics, or comics even- but nothing broke out of the… 10 to 20 people who decided to support him at his book release.
He thought his writing was good, he knew it should've been more popular, but he just couldn't get his name out there. So, the bar became his comfort, drowning his failed books and papers in the sweet taste of whiskey. This time, he had his notebook out tonight;, an idea he had a couple months ago now has an outline– maybe it’ll be his break. Get him out of this bar, this city– maybe he’ll finally live in New York, see his books have the “bestseller novel” sticker on the cover, and have his name in lights- maybe even a movie adaptation.
“Heya Mike, the usual?” the bartender yells from across the bar, shaking up another drink in his mixer. Mike quickly nods, an inviting smile on his lips, hands simultaneously writing in his notebook.
“Yeah, just put it on my tab.” He calls back, moving his fingers through his curls, maybe it’ll help him think better- he's hit a wall on this character; he seems fluid and real, but he also just… doesn’t work. He needs something more.
The tension in the bar seemed to fall a lot thicker on him today than usual. The jazz music seemed louder, the glasses clinking together seemed to ring in his ears worse than normal, and the whiskey burned a bit more on his throat tonight. He didn’t even feel how fast he had drunk it, until he looked down and saw nothing left in the glass. He barely felt tipsy though– he was never really a lightweight, it usually took more alcohol than he’d like to admit– and also took more money than he had on him.
He keeps his head firmly planted in his notebook, scribbling down whatever footnotes he could for his characters, and starting a very rough draft of his world building. He didn’t have a full idea, to be honest, it was a fantasy with a knight, who had to save the royal family, but something- or rather someone was getting in his way. Sure- it seemed a little cliche and a bit predictable, but he has a crazy plot twist in mind, okay?
….
He doesn't know what the plot twist is yet, but he’ll figure it out soon.
Half an hour goes by, it's late now, the clock finally hits 12– New day, still his same broke self. Several dollars more broke now, since he's ordered his second glass of whiskey. He's still trucking along in his notebook, looking at old sticky notes he made in his past visions, trying to tie them all together in a pretty bow. The outline seems almost complete now– a couple plot holes he’ll just have to fill in when the time comes, but right now at least it's enough to get working.
Well, until a man, seemingly a little younger than him, sat on the stool next to him. He had this stunning shade of brown hair, a little caramelly, a bit closer to chestnut. He only got a glimpse at his eyes before he turned his head, but they shimmered like golden amber in the light– they were captivating. He wore a thick brown coat, covering up most of his outfit, except for his pants and shoes, both seemed to be expensive just by looking at them. He examined the inner parts of his coat, seeing buttons in places he's never even thought of, and the inner lining was fleece fur.
Fuck his story, who’s this guy? Why’d he be in a shitty dive bar? In bumfuck Indiana no less?
“I can feel you staring at me, you know.” The man says as he turns his head, now in full view of Mike. He was absolutely stunning. From his long lashes, to his bangs gently covering his forehead, soft and warm, to the light pink he has on his lips, color maybe a little skewed from the lighting in the place, but he knocked the wind out of Mike, pen dropping onto his notebook. He felt like his heart was pounding out of its chest, face feeling hot.
“Shit, I’m sorry, it's just I don't really see people around here with coats as expensive like that– they’d probably get stolen” He jokes, fidgeting with his hands, not really knowing what to say. The man was just looking at him, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
He smiles back, making Mike feel even more flustered than he did before. He shoots back a swift smile, swallowing hard as he looks at the man with too much anticipation than he’d like. He plants his head back down, looking at the small amount of liquor stuck to the bottom of the glass. Stay calm– maybe mysterious if the liquid courage thing works.
“I have my ways of staying safe. What are you drinking tonight?” He taps his finger against the empty glass, a small echo rings in his ears. He looks at his hands, grabbing the glass in compliance with the question.
“Uh, whiskey actually. I probably shouldn’t grab another one– I need to pay rent, you know?” He plays it off as a joke, but in all honesty… he really should stop before he’s tempted for another one. He's barely been able to pay for rent and groceries these past couple months.
The man waves over the bartender, automatically walking over to him, almost telepathically, to order another drink.
“I’ll get a tequila sunrise, and whatever he wants. Put his drinks on my bill.” The bartender has an endearing look on his face, almost amused but shocked at the same time.
“Alright Wheeler, whiskey it is” The man responds, going back to pour out another shot of whiskey neat.
“I'm Will. You are?” His smile is still discernable on his face, a seemingly mutual desire floods through the both of them– at least what Mike hopes to be mutual. He smiles back, putting his elbows on the bar table. His hand was now back on his pen, fidgeting with the cap, repeatedly pressing it down over and over, soft clicks barely heard over the music.
“I’m Mike, I'm also kinda shocked I've never seen you around here before. I feel like I would've noticed someone like you walking around downtown Hawkins.” Hopefully that came off as flirting, it's what he was going for anyway. Will's smile turns bashful, slowly turning his head around to see his drink had been placed next to him, but his eyes instinctively laid back onto Mike, sweet and alluring. He takes a small sip from his flute, still keeping his eyes on him, his gorgeous radiant hazel eyes. They looked like they were basking in the sunlight, like golden hour was only hitting his face.
“I travel a lot actually. I paint for a living, I’ve been in a couple galleries, seeing all the people appreciating my paintings. They seem to like it, so I like it too.” There's a small pause between them as they both sip their drinks, the burning sensation of the whiskey floods down Mike's throat, feeling the warm comfort of the alcohol ease his anxieties. The tension between them was rising, but it wasn't anything he was worried about. He just takes another sip, and continues.
“Shit- a painter? That's cool! I uh, well I write a lot. I actually make books sometimes– uhm.”
Alright– maybe the anxiety didn’t go away entirely, but nevertheless, Will seems enamoured by him, eyes slightly softened and amused. Will glides his hand over to Mike's notebook, gently touching his right hand before reaching and grabbing the corner of the page, pulling it close to him, the book clinking into his glass. Mike's breath hitches, a wave of embarrassment floods through himself about his writing. His writing was barely legible, scribbles crossed out and underlined multiple times just for him to remember, easy words misspelled, everything he didn’t want someone he just met to see.
“Is this another book in the making?” His finger glides along the page, quickly skimming through each line of his drafts. A small huff falls out of Will's mouth, pressing his lips together to conceal his intense fascination with his ideas.
“I wouldn’t have seen you as a medieval fantasy novelist, but either way I'm curious.” His voice was inherently flirtatious, each word dripping with appeal, a soft chuckle at the end of his remark, his syrupy sweet voice alluring to Mike. He smiles back, feeling the heat rush to his face again, calming his unease by taking another large gulp of whiskey, feeling it burn down his throat worse than before.
“Yeah, I just started it tonight actually. It's a really rough draft, so I don’t think it's my best work.” He quickly says, his glances swapping rapidly between the notebook and Will, pulling the notebook back before he embarrasses himself anymore.
Sure, he's spent his nights talking and flirting with other men, usually after a dull day where he just needs some form of action, but this felt so different. Mike was holding on to every word he said, even if it was just some small talk he could have with any other guy. His eyes were like daggers into his soul, seeing right through him. He felt hypnotized.
Will chuckles at him, an endearing smile still tugging at his lips, taking in another quick sip of his drink, it easily slides down his throat, adams apple bobbing up and down, slow, and admittedly seductive in Mike's eyes.
“No, It’s good, really! Take some pride in your work.” He said, bubbly laughter emitting from him, a bit off key from Mike's anxious ramblings, but they felt comfortable together. Will still has a stark smile, pushing the notebook back to Mike, now gradually leaning into him, only inches away from his face. His eyes had been intensely locked onto Mike's for a hot minute now, but they began to falter, looking lower down from his lips, and then further down to his neck. He lingers there for a moment, breath now heavier and more desperate. Mike's eyes were fluttering back towards the other people in the bar, and the devilishly handsome man he had only 3 inches away from his lips. Will's eyes were still stuck on his neck, almost in a trance.
“I like your jacket,” he says, almost in a whisper, just loud enough so Mike could hear it, shivering at the slight grumble in his voice. A small grin tugging at his mouth that he quickly conceals by pressing his lips together.
“It feels very… rugged.” Will coos, his hand slowly gravitating towards Mike's leather jacket, humming to himself– It kept Will from going too far in the moment but god, did hearing his sweet and soft voice drives Mike wild. Will tuts to himself, his pointer finger brushing away the cold exterior of the leather jacket, revealing the dark blue polo underneath. He had top 2 buttons undone, a rebellious move in Mike's eyes.
“More than the undershirt, I'll say that.”
Mike felt like he couldn't even breathe now, let alone speak any witty response into the air. Wills hand progressively going further up his shirt, reaching the collar of his polo. Slowly and methodically curling his finger around his shirt, his strikingly cold knuckles pressed against his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. Mike's eyes were hovering from the careful caress of Will's hand, to the craving look on his face, lips slightly parted and hungry.
Will curls his finger again, playfully tugging on his collar, Mike immediately gravitating towards him, but Will pulls back, a teasing smile returns to his lips. Mike felt this strange need to have them mesh together, hear his voice, follow his eyes, feel their hearts beat as one, it was all so overwhelming, but addicting at the same time, but he kept his eyes on him. Will’s expression was unreadable, although his faded smile was still visible.
Mike didn’t even care about his half empty glass of whiskey anymore. He needed to get out of here, he thought, and he needed Will on his arm.
“Hm? I didn’t realize how eager you were.” Will blurts out, seemingly caught off guard by his own words. He pulls himself back from Mike, awkwardly twiddling his finger on the rim of his glass, head slightly turned from Mike, but keeping half-lidded eye contact through his disgustingly long eyelashes.
Mike hurriedly grabs his wallet from the pocket in his leather jacket, finding a crumpled up 20 and a random receipt from the gas station. He took a moment to look at the receipt before throwing it on the table with the bill.
Grabbing Will's wrist, they stumble their way through the crowd of people chatting and chugging down shitty beers, passing through them to finally make it to the outdoors, wind hitting brisk and chilling, the breeze following them to the back alley beside the bar. It lay stagnant in the winter, dark and cold, but with each other in their hands it felt comforting.
Will playfully pushes Mike’s back against the wall, the frigid concrete nipping at the warm coverage from his jacket and polo, while simultaneously lifting his head up, neck open and vulnerable. Will presses himself against Mike, his right hand firmly placed on Mike's hip, the other cupping his face, rubbing small circles deep into his skin. Their lips crashed into one another, hungry and uncoordinated, their teeth lightly grazing over each other, their mouths felt hot against each other, Mike almost panting from desperation. Will quickly pulls away, a soft smirk on his lips, leaning in for a second time. The second kiss was more soft, more cautious with a tighter grip on Mike's face- it’d almost be painful if his adrenaline wasn't as high as it was. A soft groan from Mike's mouth escapes on Will's lips, catching both himself and Will off guard, a small giggle from Will emerges as they kiss, Mike laughs with him, taking one chaste kiss before Will slowly pulls away, only enough where their lips are still practically on each other, Mike gasping for air like he forgot how to breathe.
Will closes the gap again with a gentle kiss, followed by Will’s tongue grazing Mike's bottom lip, slowly reaching further up until their tongues mesh together, softly engaging in the area around them, feeling their saliva mesh as one. Mike could taste the grenadine and orange still on Will's tongue, and he knew Will could taste the whiskey on his. Will pulls away again, saliva pooling at the corners of Mike's mouth, lips now red and swollen. Will teases with a kiss on the corner of his lips, then further to his jaw, peppering kisses around his neck until he found the perfect spot. Will closes his lips around a thin part of Mike's neck, starting with gentle sucking but quickly forming a strong suction, taking small nibbles to recalibrate himself. Mike was whining under his breath, chest intensely driving up and down, but still barely able to catch any air. Mike feels his hands unconsciously rubbing up and down wills back, stopping for a moment to grab a fist of hair, pushing and pulling– he didn’t know what to do. Everything felt so overwhelming, so perfect and warm-
Mike feels a soft puncture in his neck- two to be precise, right where Will was sucking, both were now pressed together even more than physically possible, but Mike could feel the life be drained out of him, in the best fucking way possible. It felt better than kissing anyone, better than sex, better than anything his brain would let him think about– which granted wasn’t much considering the situation. Mike feels himself involuntarily cursing under his breath, babbling noises escaping his lips as Will continues, leaving his vision hazy and his legs weak, feeling the want to drop down to the floor. But he held his own, gripping his hands onto Will's back, pulling him in closer as if he was going to lose him.
Several minutes go by, the sucking on his neck falling more delicate and soft, color draining from Mike's face and lips, feeling cold and brittle against Will, who now felt softer and warmer, still gripping onto him with strength stronger than before. He felt his breath slow, and his eyes took long lingering blinks at the night sky. He counted the stars he could see from the alley, murmuring to himself to make sure he was still alive– 18, he counted, a dumb grin on his face. Will slowly lifts his face from the crook of Mike's neck, a slobber of deep maroon around his lips and the corner of his mouth, a teasing grin on his face. The deep red was messily over the corners of his mouth, dripping down to his chin, drying to his face. He licks his bottom lip clean with a seductive gaze lingering on Mike, head purposefully lower to make sure he was looking up at him. Mike returns his gaze, eyes half closed and dazed, barely able to see Will. His eyesight was partially spinning, partially covered in splotchy blacks, But even so, he still made sure to keep his eyes and hands on Will, breathing him in like he was oxygen.
Will leans back into Mike, breath heavy and slow. His face was gleaming with excitement and eagerness, but behind his eyes of desire still had a cloud of shyness.
“Your place is only a couple minutes away, I hope you’ll invite me in.”
Mike hums in response, barely even able to give a response audibly. So he gave one physically, lazily lifting his body off the concrete wall behind him, his hands gripping onto Will to stand. He didn't even register what Will had said, his body was too busy yearning for the warmth Will brought him again, so he complied, gripping onto Will's forearm still covered in a thick fur coat, pulling him through the alleyway and down onto the main road, taking sharp turns until they reach his block, wasting no time to get to the entrance. Mike sees a dimly lit door with a keypad beside it, quickly entering his code, ‘5543’, he mutters to himself, Will hears it, softly tilting his head to the side, a flattering grin forms on his lips, still red and puffy.
Mike hears the door unlock, swiftly opening it, feeling the warm air from the heater hit his face like sweet relief, pulling Will into him again, climbing up the stairs to the second floor, his anticipation building up inside him, his body still dazed and fumbling, but a euphoric sense of bliss fills him enough to not worry about how his vision is slightly spinning or how his legs feel like they can barely move.. or how he's been fumbling with the key in his pocket for a good 20 seconds. The key finally goes in correctly, feeling the door unlock in his hands, pushing it away, and pulling Will into his apartment, back into his arms.
Mike presses his lips against his, his left hand lazily messing with the door to slam it close, while his right was firmly wrapped around Will's waist. Mike feels his body melt into his, the same warm and euphoric feeling he felt before, still buzzed and dazed from the kisses in the alleyway. Will pulls away from the kiss, their mouths lingering on each other for a second, before Will kisses him back again, his tongue instinctively slipping into Mike's mouth, exploring the area for a second time, with more intensity than the first. Mike pulls away, eyes half-lidded with arousal, feeling Will's breath hit his mouth. Both their lips were incredibly swollen, half attempts at bites were now a deeper maroon on Mike's lips, slick with saliva and a small amount of blood. Mike shuffles off his leather jacket, feeling the barren cold hit the back of his neck.
All the lights in Mike's apartment were turned off, only two rooms– one being for the kitchen, bedroom, living room, and the other being for his bathroom. It was cozy and cheap, and helped him save money to move to New York, so he did what he could. Better than living with his mom in his mid twenties. Plus, he had the bar a couple minutes away from his house, and other necessities being only a 20 minute walk, he managed.
Will moves his fingers up to the 3rd button on Mike's polo, slowly and teasingly unbuttoning his shirt, moving his body closer each time he opens another, until Mike's bare stomach was exposed to the slightly chilled air. He felt the hair on his skin prick up, but slowly felt warm again as Will pressed his body onto his, another kiss planted on his lips. Will amplifies the kiss again, gradually lowering Mike's polo off his shoulders, falling onto the floor like a feather. Mike takes off his shoes by the heel, followed by Will doing the same, more forward with his body now, moving his right leg in between Mikes, feeling him groan under his touch.
They fumble their way through the kitchenette, Wills back temporarily against the counter, lips still connected and passionate. Mike leans in closer to Will, forcing him to lean back against the countertop, placing lingering fingertip touches against Mike's back to make him quiver- It gave Mike this primal hunger, something he's never felt nor desired before, all caused by a man he just met in a bar not even 2 hours ago.
Will leans back into Mike, their mouths still connected and starved for touch, tongues colliding and desperate to taste one another, lips consciously bitten by both parties, swollen and deep red. Will quickly bats open his eyes, seeing Mike's flimsy mattress, covered in a dark green blanket and grey sheets. Will pushes Mike by the shoulders, fumbling onto the bed in each other's arms, Mike's head resting the pillow. Wills on top of him, pressing wet and soft kisses around his neck, circling around the area he bit at in the alleyway. It was still an open wound, blood pooling around the two holes in his neck, blood still oozing onto his chest. Will pushes out his tongue, starting from the bottom of his chest, and licks the excess blood into his mouth, savoring the flavor as if he just ate at a Michelin star restaurant. His mouth scans another area to sink his teeth into, finding a soft spot around his clavicle, teeth pressing firmly down, breaking skin. Blood seeped from the top of the wound, Will quickly made a suction around it, drinking it like wine. Mike could barely think again, vision hazy and his lightheadedness making a return, stronger than before.
Will lifts his head up from where he was drinking, saliva and blood mixed on his lips, but an endearing smile on his lips nevertheless. Mike had a tipsy grin on his face, taking him in all at once again.
“I’ve never seen someone look as beautiful bathed in moonlight as you.”