Chapter Text
La pittura è una poesia muta, e la poesia è una pittura cieca
Leonardo da Vinci
“Are you seeing this, Mike? A perfect score. A perfect fucking score!” Will is basically vibrating with happiness, his smirk so big you can see it from a mile away. “There’s no way you beat me this time,” he continues, walking towards his group of friends, the party, as they call themselves.
The main study hall of Rightside University is tinted with an orange light, the clock on the desk marking a few minutes past six p.m. Everyone is sitting around the round table, books scattered across the surface.
Mike looks up from his book, gaze locking with Will’s. “Mmm. No way, you say?”
Will stops in his tracks, his smile faltering completely.
"Here we go again," Max says, rolling her eyes.
Max Mayfield: daughter of the Dean. Majoring in Applied Mathematics. Fourth best student at Rightside University.
"How do we end up doing this every single time after an exam?" Dustin asks, burying his face in his hands.
Dustin Henderson: son of the best Opera Singer of California. Majoring in Computer Engineering. Third best student at Rightside University.
"And it's always the same outcome," Lucas adds with a click of his tongue.
Lucas Sinclair: son of the Mayor of the city of Eureka. Majoring in Legal Studies. Sixth best student at Rightside University.
"No, not this time. He might have gotten the exact same score as me, but there’s no way he got more. I literally got a 100,” Will says, turning his head to look at Mike again.
Will Byers: son of a grocery store clerk. Majoring in Art History, Criticism & Conservation. Second best student at Rightside University.
Mike keeps his eyes on Will’s face, moving slightly towards the desk to reach for the folded sheet in front of him.
“Wanna bet?”
And there it was. That expression that seems to be reserved for Will, and Will only. That fuckass grin.
Mike Wheeler: son of the CEO of Wheeler's Group. Majoring in Literature and Creative Writing. Best student at Rightside University.
Here’s the thing: Mike Wheeler and Will Byers hate each other.
Okay, maybe hate is too strong a word. They definitely feel… passionately towards one another. They’ve been rivals since they were kids. Whether it was for sport competitions, homework assignments, group projects, you name it.
There hasn’t been a single day since they met that they haven’t actively spent trying to one up each other, and it always ends in the same way: Will Byers trying the hardest he can, staying up all night studying, spending every single day reading more books than you’d find in a library, and Mike Wheeler getting perfect score after perfect score and always being one step ahead.
Will comes from a humble family, but he met Mike as a child thanks to their mothers, who were friends at school. Mike's mom, Karen, met her husband Ted after graduation, while Will's mom ended up marrying Lonnie, the prick she’d dated all throughout high school.
Luckily, Lonnie had left when Will was just a kid, being that he was an absolute shit parent, never caring about him or his brother, Jonathan. Their mom always worried about how that could impact them though, especially Will, who was always a very shy kid who struggled to make friends. After opening up about it to Karen, the two decided to introduce their children, given that they were the same age.
On one of their first play dates, Will showed Mike his beautiful and intricate sketches, while the other showed his writing contest trophies. This only encouraged Will to do better, and the next time he was awarded a prize at school for one of his drawings, he couldn't wait to shove it in Mike's face. That was until Mike flaunted the grade he’d gotten on a test. A perfect score that had earned him a little medal for his skills. Will swore from that moment on that, one day, he would beat Mike Wheeler.
In order to do so, Will convinced his mother to let him follow Mike to every school he ever attended. His mom would often work double shifts, and his brother would take on some photography gigs while still being in school himself. Will was incredibly grateful to have a family that supported him that much, and of course it wasn't just to beat Mike.
Okay, that was a really big part of it.
But obviously going to such prestigious schools was a great way to secure himself a future he knew he deserved. That's how he got into Rightside University, a school for wealthy and gifted kids: attending these institutions granted him the possibility of obtaining a scholarship, which he did.
So yeah, competing with Mike was fun, but also extremely rewarding.
They made each other better, pushed themselves to the limit just to show the other what they were capable of. Mike, who never showed any emotion towards anyone- other than maybe annoyance- always seemed to be grinning whenever Will approached him with a new test result, knowing he would always be one fucking step ahead.
Another little thing you should know about them is that they have been secretly fucking for the past few months.
So when Mike asks Will if he wants to bet, they both know precisely what he is asking.
If I win, I get to do whatever I want with you.
If you win, you get to do whatever you want with me.
Will has never once gotten to do what he wanted.
Not that he ever complains, of course, seeing that all Mike ever seems to want is to give Will the best orgasms of his life; blowing him, eating him out, and fucking him mercilessly. But it would be really nice to watch Mike fall apart at his hands for once. Hear him scream his name and come undone, helpless.
That is really all the motivation Will has needed for the past few months. The insane need to watch Mike Wheeler crumble under his touch.
He snatches the piece of paper from Mike’s hands and unfolds it. He looks at the big red score on top.
A hundred and one.
A hundred and fucking one.
"Hi guys! What did I miss?" Jane greets.
Jane Hopper: daughter of the Chief of Police of the city of Eureka (appointed by Lucas' dad). Majoring in Interior and Furniture Design. Fifth best student at Rightside University.
"Judging by the smoke coming out of Will's ears, I'd say you didn't miss anything we haven’t seen already."
"Oh, Will," Jane says, a pitiful smile on her face, patting him on the back.
"How the fuck did you get a hundred and one, Mike? There was a very precise evaluation grid, there was-"
"A spelling mistake in a question. That's what there was. I pointed it out to Professor Carter, so she gave me a bonus point."
"That's not how it works! That’s not fair! I stayed up all night studying, I even submitted an additional paper and researched the best ways to make use of Freytag's pyramid in order to be prepared for this goddamn exam!"
"And you did, in fact, get the maximum score Will. Why are you so upset?" Max says in an attempt to calm him, effectively worsening the situation.
"Yeah, Will. Why are you so upset?" Mike asks mockingly.
"Wait, who’s Professor Carter?" Dustin asks, brows furrowed in confusion.
"You know, Ashley Carter? I guess she used to go by Mitchell but she took her wife's name after they got married. She teaches English and Creative Writing," Jane explains.
"Well, while we’re on the subject, why are you even taking her classes? You’re an art major," Lucas points out.
"I wanted to beat Mike fair and square. We’re always getting graded on different subjects, it made sense," Will shrugs.
"Except you have never once gotten a higher score than me."
"That is not the point," He growls, shooting him a glare and grabbing his water bottle to take a sip.
Mike, the jerk that he is, takes advantage of the situation just to mess with him.
"It literally is the point. You want to study just so you can finally pin me down and fuck me over."
Will chokes on his water.
"Figuratively, of course."
"Of course," Max says, a look of disgust plastered on her face.
"Anyway," Lucas interjects, shifting the conversation. "I still have to write my essay on how the doctrine of consideration continues to serve a useful function in modern contract law," he continues, and is immediately met with five confused faces staring right back at him.
"Okay. Let me rephrase that. I still have to write my essay on very difficult lawyer stuff, would anyone like to join me for a session tonight?"
The party's study sessions always look more or less the same: they meet up at one of their houses, pretend to study for, like, half an hour, and then chitchat for the rest of the evening.
"Will's mom and my dad are going out for dinner. We could do it at either one of our houses," Jane offers excitedly.
Their parents have been dating ever since they met at Parent’s Weekend last fall. Will's mom was hesitant about going out with Jane's dad at first, but eventually she’d caved, and he couldn't be happier for her. Hopper was a good man, and an excellent dad to Jane. Hell, he was even an excellent father figure to Will, too.
The offer makes Will reflect on the situation for a second. He and Mike exchange a look and understand immediately what the other is thinking.
If we go to my house, we won't have any excuse to be alone together after, Will's mind suggests.
"Your house would be better, Jane," Mike proposes in a hurry. "It's bigger, and closer to our houses anyway. I could drive anyone home after, as always."
"You mean your driver can take us home," Max corrects.
"Yeah. Same thing."
"You're such a snob."
"I’m not hearing a thank you for making sure you arrive home safe, Mayfield."
"Thank your driver for me, Wheeler."
Mike smiles at her and she rolls her eyes, fighting back a smile of her own.
Will has always been amazed by their friendship dynamic. They give each other shit all the time, actively at each other’s throats over every little thing, but he swears they'd die for one another.
"So it's settled. Let's meet at Jane's around… let's say eightish?"
They all mumble a series of sounds perfect and good for me.
"Great! I will see you guys there!" Jane says, picking up her bag. They all start to disperse, moving towards the door, leaving Mike and Will behind to collect their things.
"So," Will starts the moment they are alone.
"So," Mike repeats.
"Same arrangement?"
Their arrangement consists of this: Mike makes sure his driver takes everyone home, leaving Will for last. The back of Mike's BMW being their favorite spot. They fuck at their houses on occasion, when no one is around, or in the library next to the school's greenhouse, which is almost always empty.
Mike shakes his head, walking towards him. "Actually, I was thinking we could skip the car ride this time."
"Oh," Will says, hating the hint of disappointment in his own voice, only to be met with a Cheshire cat smile in front of him.
"Don't look so devastated, Second Best," Mike says, invading his space completely, lowering himself to whisper in Will's ear.
"I was thinking of another type of… ride this time. And for that, we'll need a bed."
And just like that, Mike’s gone, leaving Will alone in the main study hall with his face burning and his knees weak.
He is most certainly not going to survive the night.
⊹˚˖⏮⏱ ୭˚⋆
a few months back, during a late study session…
"Dustin asked Stacey Albright out. Again! Can you guys believe that?" Lucas asked with a teasing smile, trying to control his laughter.
"You'd think that after the fifth rejection you would have learned your lesson," Max pointed out, patting her friend on the shoulder. "Truly a never ending story of embarrassment."
The whole group started laughing, except for Mike, who kept on reading his book with determined focus.
"You guys don't get it. That's what Stacey does! She likes to be courted and loves when I give her my full attention. She’s always asking me to study with her!" Dustin said with a defensive tone.
"Of course she does, you're a genius," Jane cut in. "You practically do all the work for her. You help with all of her assignments so she doesn't have to lift a finger or actually pick up a book to get an A."
"Now that’s simply not true. You see-"
"Yes, it is, and you know it," Lucas interrupted. "Look, we are not laughing at you, Dustin. We are laughing with you, over the absurdity of the situation. You’ve been trying to go out with her for God knows how long! It's just funny that you can’t seem to grasp the concept that she might not have any interest in sleeping with you."
"Who said that I wanted to sleep with her?"
"Oh, please."
Five heads whipped around simultaneously towards the person that had just spoken: Mike, eyes still fixed on his book with an expression of absolute boredom on his face.
"Got something to share with the class, Wheeler?" Max asked, eyebrows raised.
"I'm just saying it's a bit ridiculous to pretend that you have no interest in sleeping with someone who you have actively pursued for months," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Okay, first of all, take it down a notch with that snobby ass attitude," Dustin sneered, "And second of all, it's easy for you to talk! You never have to worry about that sort of thing. The hottest girls here throw themselves at you."
"And I don’t give a flying fuck about them. All they care about is Ted's money anyway."
"So? You still get to bang them," Lucas pointed out. "I just know some of them are into the craziest- OUCH. What the hell?"
"Stop talking. Right now," Max ordered.
"Still, Lucas is right," Dustin said, resuming the conversation. "What is it like to sleep with a snobby, spoiled Rightside chick?"
"I wouldn't know. I’ve never slept with one."
"You’ve never had sex with any of the girls here?" Will asked, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth.
Mike stopped his reading for the first time since the conversation started, raising his gaze to stare directly at Will.
He almost looked as if he was too upset to answer back.
"No. I’ve never had sex with a girl. Full stop."
Will felt his ears burning at how intensely Mike was still looking at him. Everyone else seemed to lose the ability to speak, awkward silence filling the room.
Huh. Mike Wheeler is a virgin. Definitely wouldn’t have guessed that.
"Okay, I think that was enough for today! Very productive," Max said, breaking the silence, also trying to get the idea of Mike Wheeler having sex out of her head. "I have to be going home anyway."
"Me too, actually. Hop asked me to be home for dinner. Said he wanted to talk to me about something," Jane stated, collecting her books. "You coming, Will?"
"I think I still need a little bit of time. You guys go ahead, we'll catch up later," he said, picking up his pencil case.
The rest of the party collected their things and began exiting the library one by one, Max closing the door behind them.
Will kept on repeating the words in his mind.
No. I’ve never had sex with a girl. Full stop. Mike has never had sex. Mike is a virgin.
He supposed it made sense. Mike was always a pretty reserved person, kind of in his own world. A loner. He didn't like to interact with a lot of people– Hell, he didn't even like to entertain a conversation most of the time.
"So…" He started, putting down his pencil, unable to shake the conversation off of him. "You have never had sex."
Mike stopped his reading again, this time closing the book and putting it on the desk in front of him. He furrowed his brows and looked at Will with his eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Mike."
"I know. But it's also not true."
Confusion took over Will's face.
"I don't get it. You said you’ve never been with anyone?"
"No. What I said is that I've never been with a girl."
The realization washed over Will like a tidal wave, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment.
“Oh," was all he could manage.
“Yeah. Oh,” Mike said with his eyebrows raised, as if he was challenging Will to say anything else.
"I, uhm," Will started, struggling to find the words. "Thank you. For telling me," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
Mike crossed his arms and shrugged. "Sure. It's not like it's a secret anyway, just…"
"It’s just that no one else seems to be gay here at Rightside besides us," Will finished.
Mike swallowed, his eyes downing on the books in front of him. "Yeah."
"So it's not like there's any reason to say it out loud."
Will's words stung in his throat as he said them, recalling his coming out to the party back at the beginning of freshman year.
It was never a secret for him either, but it's also not like he had paraded it around. He just never used any pronouns (or names for that matter) when speaking about partners, up until he felt comfortable enough with all of them to say the words.
In a way, he’d always known he didn't like girls. He’d never looked at girls that way. He never dreamed of what it would be like to hold a girl's hand, he never wished he could kiss one.
The memory of his first kiss, a gentle peck on the lips from an arrogant boy with black curly hair and freckles scattered across his face flashed through his mind.
"You know," Mike began, pulling Will back from his thoughts, "We could do something about it."
"Meaning?" Will's eyebrows pulled together with confusion.
"You know what I mean."
"I’m afraid I don't. And I honestly don't even know if I want to know."
"Come on, Will. Think about it. We are the only two gay guys we know of on campus. We could… help each other out? Release the tension."
"Are you seriously suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?"
"Fucking each other with no strings attached? Yeah, I am."
Will made a disgusted face at the words. "You're gross."
Mike scoffed, a mischievous grin appearing on his face.
"Am I?"
Will could feel his face burning, heat reaching the tip of his ears.
He hated that Mike had gotten him to react that way, and he hated that despite the fact that they were sworn rivals, there was still no one's respect Will craved more than Mike’s. It's like he had a desperate need to please Mike Wheeler, always hoping he would one day look at him and tell him that he did good for once.
"Why would I want to do that with you, Mike?"
"Why wouldn't you? We’re young and we’re both single."
"That's it?" Will asked with his eyebrows raised, an incredulous look taking over his features. "We should fuck once because we’re not in committed relationships?"
"Oh, I never said once."
"You know what, Mike?" Will erupted, voice filled with exasperation, "I’m going to give you some grace and pretend this conversation never happened so that I won't ever have to tell a soul. I think I'd die of embarrassment anyway."
Mike rolled his eyes with a shrug.
"Whatever. Should've known you'd be scared."
That shot something right through Will.
Years of hearing those exact words, time and time again, always muttered by the same smug son of a bitch.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Mike stood up, crossing to join Will on his side of the table, taking the chair beside him and turning it so that he could sit directly in front of him.
"You know. How you always seem to quit right before the finish line. Scared that something real might happen."
"Screw you."
"I mean I’m actively trying to, but you’re cock-blocking me, so-"
"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean? About me quitting? I have always given a hundred percent in everything I’ve ever done" Will interrupted, narrowing his eyes and turning his body to face him.
He knew perfectly what he meant, and he hated him for it.
"Right. My bad," Mike teased, pretending to drop the conversation. "Oh, you know what, I forgot to ask. How did it end with that guy that you were seeing last summer?"
Chance. Will had met him at one of Lucas' basketball games after Max asked him to tag along with her. He broke things off after a couple weeks of fucking when Chance had asked him if he’d be interested in pursuing a 'relationship' in the fall.
Will hadn’t been.
"It didn't work out," he said through gritted teeth.
"Right. Oh, and what about the one before that? What was his name…" Mike tapped his finger on his chin, as if he was genuinely struggling to recall his name. "Tony? Toby?"
"Tobias."
"Tobias! Man, I miss Tobias."
"What are you getting at? Are you just trying to piss me off?"
"I’m trying to make you understand, Will. There is nothing wrong about not being able to maintain a connection with someone."
Will's mind went to all of his past relationships, always cut off before they could become anything serious, anything important… anything at all, actually. He never gave himself permission to let loose, incapable of doing anything if not to its fullest, bored of such meaningless connections.
"You’re wrong about me, Mike."
"Prove it, then. Show me how wrong I am," Mike grinned, moving forward, his voice barely above a whisper."I know you’re just dying to prove yourself to me anyway."
That went straight to Will's dick. Damn him and his pathetic fucking need for approval.
A million thoughts raced through his mind, how wrong it would be, how bad it could end, how fucking ashamed of himself he could be.
He bit his bottom lip, looking down at Mike's mouth for a second before locking his gaze with him.
"What did you have in mind?"
The grin on Mike's face grew impossibly big.
"We could make it a little challenge. We are always competing anyway, might as well make it interesting," he hummed. "Like… we do it every time one of us wins a bet, or gets a better grade."
"Every single time?"
Mike shrugged. "Or something like that. Why not?"
Will's mind was moving a thousand miles a minute, a million thoughts swimming around in his head. Actually do that?
With Mike Wheeler?
It was crazy, right? He was crazy for even considering it.
A mad man.
Still, he couldn't pretend he wasn't feeling an incredible rush of excitement throughout his whole body.
And so he caved.
"Okay," his voice barely audible, even in the silence of the empty library.
"But if we’re going to be doing it so often, we should establish some ground rules," he continued. "First of all, this is just to get each other off. No attachments or expectations whatsoever."
"Sure," Mike agreed.
"Second, we don't tell anyone what we’re doing."
"I can agree to that."
"Third, we only do what we have to do after a bet or a competition of some sort. Whoever wins, gets the other to get him off."
"How about… whoever wins gets to do whatever he wants to the other?" Mike proposed.
"How is that different from what I just said?"
"Oh, it's very different. Almost the opposite, I'd say," Mike smiled, "But I can ask Lucas to read and explain to you the fine print if you’re struggling."
"Fine, whatever. Whoever gets a higher grade, or wins a bet, gets to do whatever they want," Will repeated, emphasizing his point.
"I’m really just doing this for you, you know. You always lose- wouldn't want you to have blue balls all the time."
"Fuck you," he hissed.
"I mean, yeah, I guess-"
"Lastly," Will finished, "no kissing."
"What?"
"We don't kiss."
"Why the hell wouldn't we kiss?"
"It's too intimate."
Mike looked at him, narrowing his eyes, and Will could practically see the gears turning in his head.
"We can suck each other off but a kiss is where you draw the line?"
We haven't sucked each other off yet, but whatever, Will thought.
"That's just sex. It's physical- it doesn't have to mean anything. A kiss though… it does mean something, you know. It's what you do with someone you like."
"Right." Mike's jaw tensed. "And we don't. Like each other, I mean," he clarified.
Will swallowed. "Not like that."
Mike clicked his tongue. "Not like that," he repeated.
The silence was deafening.
"Don't you agree with me?" Will asked, biting his bottom lip.
"That a kiss is an intimate moment between two people that like each other? Yeah, I agree with you on that. So if you don't want to, I respect your decision."
"But you wouldn't mind doing it?"
Mike waited a second before answering, looking like he was calculating something in his mind.
"No. I wouldn't."
Will must’ve looked incredibly confused.
"Let me get this straight. You agree that it should just be a moment between two people that like each other but you wouldn't mind doing it with me?"
"Correct."
"That doesn't make any sense."
Mike was practically fuming from his nose.
"You know, Will," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "For being the second smartest person in this school, you really can be as dumb as a box of fucking rocks sometimes."
"Why are you insulting me now?"
"Jesus, can we just fucking drop it?" Mike snapped. "I won't kiss you if you don't want to be kissed by me. God."
If you don't want to be kissed by me.
Will immediately felt incredibly shitty.
And also incredibly turned on.
"Mike."
Mike turned his head to face away from Will, biting his inner cheek.
"Mike," he repeated, " Look at me."
He grabbed his chin, forcing Mike's eyes to stay on his.
"Do you want to kiss me?"
Mike swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down.
"I-"
Will moved closer.
"Cat got your tongue? Speak."
Mike’s eyes went dark, pupils blown wide.
"Yes," a frustrated groan escaped him, "I– I want to kiss you.”
Will’s heart skipped a beat at the confession. It’s not like he thought Mike actually wanted to kiss him, he knew that it wasn’t like that. He probably just wanted the full experience.
Still, a rush of excitement shot through him as he moved closer to Mike, stealing a quick look at his lips. Mike's eyes fluttered shut as he inched even closer, until-
"Then beat me at something and I guess I'll have to let you," Will whispered against his lips, grinning.
Mike let out a whimper and threw himself at Will, grabbing him by his hair and tugging for better access to his neck. Will granted it, clinging onto Mike for dear life as he sucked and bit fiercely at his exposed skin.
He was caught completely off guard by Mike's sudden reaction, the chair clattering to the floor as they stood up. His hands shot up to the other boy's hair, tugging at it and pulling away.
"Wait, not here," Will said, looking at the closed door, immediately regretting his boldness.
"Why not? No one’s around anymore."
"They could still come back. Anyone could come in."
"Still scared, huh?"
That, of course, did something to Will. Something almost primordial, a fierce and all-consuming need to prove himself- to break every rule and simply let go.
Mike guided them towards the desk, Will's back hitting the edge. Their clothed cocks rubbed against each other, imploring to be let out. Mike shot a hand down to palm Will through his pants, eliciting a moan that he couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed about. He felt dizzy at the contact, his mind fixated on the fact that it was Mike fucking Wheeler, his number one rival, touching him there.
Mike started to unbutton Will's pants, stopping himself after having tugged the zipper down. He looked at him, his eyes searching Will’s face for any regret. He didn't find any.
He slowly let spit fall from his mouth into his own hand, maintaining eye contact as he shoved it into Will's boxers, wrapping it around his already achingly hard length. Will hissed at the contact, letting his head fall back. Mike's mouth was back on his throat in a second, biting and sucking, earning a series of unrestrained noises from the other boy.
"Can you be quiet for me, Second Best?" he asked, his hand moving up and down at an agonizing pace, his spit mixing with Will's own wetness.
"I- huh. God, Mike."
Will couldn’t stay quiet for the life of him.
"Seriously, we’re definitely gonna get caught if you don't shut the fuck up."
His head shot up, burning Mike with a glare.
"Make me."
Mike's pupils went wide, eclipsing his irises almost completely.
"Fuck. Hold on." He detached himself from Will, who was already mourning the loss of contact with a broken whine.
He watched intently as Mike undid his neck tie, eyes never leaving his own as he extended his arm, offering the tie in his hand.
"Put this in your mouth."
Will didn't move, his hands rested beside him, gripping desperately at the desk's edge, his breath still coming in shallow and erratic. He kept his eyes trained on Mike as he slowly opened his mouth. A silent invitation.
Mike moved on pure instinct, too entranced by the sight in front of him to resist. He shoved the fabric in Will's mouth with such force that he almost gagged.
"Such a good boy, doing as you're told," Mike praised, resuming his touch on Will's dick, this time at a more generous pace.
The compliment did nothing to help Will maintain his composure, yearning to touch him too, his whines muffled by the dampened fabric.
He moved his hand towards Mike's belt to unbuckle it, only to be immediately stopped by the other boy, who grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand away.
"Gotta earn that, pretty face."
That did him in. The loss of control- of power- the inability to do what he wanted.
He came in Mike's hand with a series of short, staggered breaths as Mike worked him through it with long, languid strokes.
“Let's go ahead and say we're even for every time I kicked your ass, now, yeah?"
So, yeah. That's how they ended up fucking for months behind their best friend's backs.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨🕮୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
"You are not seriously suggesting that having hands for feet is better than having feet for hands!"
Lucas' eyes shot wide open, his arms raising to the sky in exasperation. "Are you insane, Dustin? Who would want to have feet for hands!"
"Who would want to have hands for feet?!"
"Anyone. Literally, anyone. Ask every single person in this room, they'll tell you that-"
Dustin doesn't even let him finish, "How would you even walk-"
"You'd learn how to walk!" Lucas interrupts. "But feet for hands? How would you do anything? You couldn’t even pick up a damn pen!"
"Oh, I can pick up a pen with my feet alright."
"Now you’re just being dense on purpose. I know you can pick up a pen with your feet, but it's not like it would be much use. You wouldn't even be able to use it!"
"It would be perfectly possible to write with one's feet."
"You are not actually being serious right now! You’re rage baiting me."
"I'll write the fuck out of my essay on the role of Quantum Computing in the future of Data Security with my feet if I have to!"
"Are you seriously that petty?"
"I am not petty. I am right and I want to prove it."
Dustin and Lucas have been going back and forth like this for at least half an hour, playing would you rather and getting mad at each other's choices over and over again.
The study session had actually started pretty well, everyone on their best behavior, catching up on their assignments.
Jane shakes her head, amused by the situation. "Okay guys, I think it's time to let this one go. It's clear neither of you are going to change your minds and agree with the other."
"I just think it's ridiculous to insinuate that-"
"Anyway!" Max interjects, trying to change the subject in order to prevent another spirited discussion on appendages. "This is actually starting to bore me. Where is the fun in any of these questions? I want something juicy!"
"You know, I think there’s a setting on the app that gives you only spicy questions," Jane says with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows as she moves closer to Max, looking at the phone in her hand.
"Wait, you’re right. There we go! So, the next question is for…" Max taps the red button on the tiny screen to reveal the next player, grinning deviously at the name on the screen. "Will! Would you rather… have a passionate night full of hate sex or a mediocre one with loving sex?"
"What kind of dumb question is that!" Dustin scoffs.
"It's not like I thought of it, Henderson."
"That’s actually a good question, the answer isn't as obvious as one might think," Lucas argues.
Will feels slightly embarrassed, his tone betraying his insecurities, "I, uhm-"
"Who would want to have hate sex when you can have perfectly fine loving sex?" Jane points out.
Mike and Will share a look.
"Well, it's a different dynamic. One isn't necessarily better than the other. It's just… different. A preference."
"What do you think, Mike? You’ve been suspiciously silent," Max says, then “not that I’m complaining.”
He crosses his arms, glaring at her apathetically. "I don't think you can actually have one without the other."
"Care to elaborate?"
"You don't just hate someone. Usually it's just the absence of love, the anger over what there once was, or still is, but don't know how to express. So you hate. Because you're mad that you can't love."
"Right. Except that that doesn't really have anything to do with this, so forget I asked," she scolds him.
"Well, actually, I hate to agree with Mike here-" Dustin starts.
"Dude!"
"But scientifically speaking-"
Everyone groans.
"BUT SCIENTIFICALLY SPEAKING, love and hate share the same underlying neural pathways and elicit very similar physical and emotional responses!"
Mike glares at Max pointedly and motions to Dustin, "Thank you."
"So, Will? your answer?" Max says, willfully ignoring the turn that the conversation took.
"Uhm. I don't really think I know the answer to that… it depends too much on the context, you know? Like the situation you're in-"
"The person you're doing it with," Mike cuts him off.
"That too, yeah," he agrees, a traitorous blush spreading across his cheeks. Thankfully, no one notices, and if they do, they don’t say anything.
"Oh my god, you’re no fun. Fine, I'll change the question," Max says, tapping the button again. "Oooh, okay. Would you rather… tie someone up or be tied up yourself?"
Will can feel his whole face burning as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
"Tied up," he says, voice barely audible as he risks another glance at Mike, who is already staring him down with a subdued grin.
Mike clears his throat, "Okay. I think it's time to call it a night," he says, and Will swears his voice is slightly pitched.
"But, we were just starting to have fun!" Dustin complains.
"It's almost midnight. I still have to get everyone home and be up early tomorrow to help Ted at the firm. I’m going, whoever wants to stay is free to call an Uber."
"Fine, geez. No need to be so cranky."
"Max is right, Mike. You should really lighten up," Will agrees jokingly.
Mike narrows his eyes at him, "Oh I'll lighten up, don't you worry. Just have to tie up some loose ends first," and Will hates himself for the reaction that the comment elicits from him.
They all say their goodbyes to Jane, thanking her for having them as they move towards Mike's car. The ride is quiet, filled with occasional chitchat from Max and Lucas and Dustin.
Will is starting to feel extremely nauseous.
They haven't done this many times, going to each other's places. They usually prefer the quickness of the car- hiding in plain sight. Never having to stop, to stay still. The fastness of the car always gives Will the perfect excuse not to brace for impact, his thoughts moving at a thousand miles an hour.
They remain alone, and Will starts to feel his pulse quicken,his heart beating erratically. He’s nervous. Nervous to go to Mike's house, nervous to be welcomed into a place so empty. So sad. He remembers the feeling from when he was a kid: Mike's house has always been beautiful, of course. It had everything anyone could ever dream of.
Everything but love.
It lacked warmth. It wasn't filled with music or laughter or the sugary smell of Sunday morning breakfast prepared with your loved ones. It was always empty- cold. So big that even if someone was there, there’s a solid chance you would never even cross paths. In a way, it was perfect to hide their shame. To hide their arrangement.
"We’ve arrived, Mr Wheeler," the driver announces, pulling him from his thoughts.
"After you," Mike says, opening the car door for Will from the inside.
The walk to his room is deafeningly silent, Will's confidence and smugness from earlier beginning to wane, replaced instead by a feeling of impending doom.
"Here we are," Mike says, opening the door for Will once again.
"Here we are," he repeats.
Mike closes the door behind them, resting his back against it. Will hears the lock turn.
"Sit on the bed," Mike orders.
And so he does.
"Take off your shirt."
"You’re very demanding today."
"Just claiming what's mine," Mike says, earning a curious raise of Will’s brows.
"I mean, what I won," he corrects himself.
"Of course."
And with that, Will does as he's told, slowly taking off his shirt, tossing it somewhere on Mike's floor. He sees Mike's jaw tense, his eyes scanning over Will’s chest. He feels incredibly exposed, even with a majority of his clothes still on.
Mike detaches from the door, stalking towards him. Will leans back on the bed, resting up on his arms, gaze locked with Mike’s.
"Now what?"
Mike gets on his knees as he approaches the edge of the bed, placing his large hands on Will’s thighs before spreading them. He invades his space, moving his hands to unbutton the other boy's pants. Will’s breath catches as he waits for Mike's reaction to…
"What’s this?"
Mike stops dead in his tracks, slowly raising his gaze to meet Will's, who is now feeling pretty good about the fact that he rendered Mike Wheeler speechless.
"Fuck, Will. You’re insane."
"Thought you deserved something nice for the bonus point," he purrs. "What? You don't like them?"
Mike’s eyes flick back down towards Will's unbuttoned pants, a pair of black lace panties peeking out above the zipper.
"Not one bit. As a matter of fact, I hate them so much I'm gonna fucking rip them to shreds." In one swift move, he frees Will from the confines of the denim, leaving him only in his panties.
He lowers himself down again, taking the delicate waistband between his teeth, slowly tugging them down, leaving Will completely naked beneath him.
Will is fully hard, his cock already red and leaking against his belly at the sight of Mike Wheeler on his knees in front of him, lacy panties in his mouth. He watches as Mike rips them apart, ruining them before tossing them to the floor.
"That's a shame. I really liked those panties."
"I'll buy you a fucking stack of them," he says, and in a second he is completely on him: the sensation of Mike on him, still fully clothed, sending a shiver down his spine. Their lips find each other easily, sucking and biting, all teeth and spit. Will feels Mike's tongue grazing his lower lip, and so he opens his mouth to welcome him.
Mike takes him by his wrists, and without ever breaking the kiss he flips them, settling under Will after moving them towards the center of the bed.
"Sit on my face."
"So fucking needy, Mike."
"Shut the fuck up and do as you’re told," he commands as he removes his shirt and pants, leaving him only in his boxers.
Will positions himself over Mike's face, entranced by the sight of the boy under him, his cheeks flushed with desire. His brain can't seem to function, desperate with anticipation of what they’re about to do.
Mike grips his ass, spreading his cheeks apart, collecting sweat with his tongue, moaning against his skin as he tastes him. He works up towards Will's hole, sucking until he can feel it fluttering for him. He starts to fuck into Will with his tongue, earning a series of moans from the boy sitting on his face, whose hands shoot up to grip the headboard in front of him.
"Oh, God."
Mike tightens his grip on Will's cheeks at the sound, removing one hand to bring it to Will's mouth. "Suck," he orders, muffled by Will’s weight.
Will doesn't need to be told twice: he takes Mike's fingers into his mouth, wetting them with his tongue, sucking until they are slick with his spit. Mike removes his hand from Will's mouth to bring one finger to his rim, massaging gently before pressing in, stretching him open.
It takes everything in Will not to come from that alone, his body starting to rock and grind down on Mike’s face beneath him. He can feel the stretch, the burn but it’s so extremely thrilling that he feels drunk on it.
Mike inserts a second finger while he eats Will out, so greedy- so eager- to get him ready.
Will has always thought that Mike was an impatient person.
Their little escapades confirmed it.
Will moans as he feels Mike's fingers grazing against his bundle of nerves, his body shuttering at the touch.
"Shit, shit, stop," he pleads, but Mike doesn't listen to him. He keeps on fucking him with both his fingers and his tongue, the sensation too much, too overwhelming, too-
"I said stop you fucking asshole," Will says, gripping Mike's hair and lifting himself up so that he’s no longer sitting on his face.
His breaths are ragged, his heart pounding so fast that he’s afraid it might break right out of his ribcage.
"What the fuck is your problem?" Mike asks, incredulous.
He looks absolutely wrecked. Lips and chin covered with his own spit, cheeks flushed with all-consuming want.
"I was about to come," Will says, knitting his brows together with confusion.
"Yeah, and?"
"I would’ve come right on your face, Mike."
"So what if you did?" he shoots back, face scrunched up in annoyance.
"I-" Will's words die on his tongue, his dick twitching at the answer.
Mike, of course, notices.
"Uh. Interesting."
"Shut up."
"So, can I keep fucking you, or do you want to talk a little more?"
"It's not like you were actually fucking me-"
And that does it. Mike interrupts him by picking him up and pinning him down on the bed with one swift movement, his head now resting near the edge. He removes his boxers, freeing his achingly hard cock, leaking and twitching just for Will. He lines himself up with Will’s entrance before slamming into him with a groan.
His thrusts are hard, impatient, needy.
"Never," thrust.
"Say," thrust.
"That," thrust.
"Again." thrust.
Salty tears spill from Will’s eyes, his whining so desperate and sharp that Mike slows his movements, studying him with furrowed brows.
"What’s wrong?" he asks, "Why are you crying? Are you okay?"
Will's teary eyes shoot open as he opens his mouth to assure him that there is absolutely nothing wrong and that it’s the most insane pleasure he has ever felt in his entire life. With a smirk, Mike starts pounding into him faster than before.
Will moans so loud at the change of pace that it almost sounds like a sob, fingers digging in and seeking purchase on anything he can find.
“Fuck you, Mike,” he cries.
“Yeah, fuck me, Will,” he growls through gritted teeth.
Ropes of cum spurt onto his stomach, and Mike follows him shortly after, filling him up. He collapses onto Will, completely undone, and hides his face in the crook of his neck.
They stay like that for what feels like hours, even though it's probably only minutes, waiting for their breathing to even out. Will can feel Mike softening inside him, their legs still intertwined.
"Mike," he starts, "I should get going. It's already pretty late."
Mike lifts his head, turning to face Will.
"Right, uhm, sorry. Let me get you something to clean up." He slowly detangles himself from their embrace, moving towards his drawer to grab a pair of boxers for himself and a towel for Will.
While he cleans himself off, Mike picks up their clothes and puts them on the bed beside him.
"Thanks," Will says.
Mike just nods, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a threadbare t-shirt that reads best big brother in the world. A soft smile ghosts Will’s lips, surely a gift from Holly, he thinks.
He lets his gaze linger on him and his lean figure, and he can't help but wonder how Mike can go from extremely confident and snarky to shy and reserved in a matter of seconds.
"I'll, uh- I'll go get the car. Meet you outside."
"Yeah, be right there."
And just like that, Will is left only with his insecurities and shame again. Afraid to have said too much, crossed a line, or reached a point of no return. Would they ever be able to go back from this? Would they ever be able to stop? And if they wouldn't, would he ever know how to live without Mike’s ever present existence in his life?
The situation settles sourly in his stomach- the realization that this could end very, very badly. And truthfully, he's surprised to realize just how sad the idea of losing their “friendship” makes him. He's never really thought of Mike as a friend. For a while, he'd really never thought of him as anything other than his enemy. His rival. A reminder of his shortcomings.
But the boy he's started to see peeking out after their private moments? He's… different. Charming.
Will could like him. Will could like that Mike.
I mean, not LIKE like him. No. That's stupid.
He swallows as he leaves Mike’s room, wishing only to be home.
The car ride is silent, as always, and Will's mind is incapable of letting him rest, working full time at supplying him with a million impossible comments, questions, and concerns.
"I've been meaning to ask you something," he says, breaking the silence.
"Sure?"
"Why are you so… secretive? About your sexuality."
"I, uhm," Mike starts, visibly uncomfortable, and Will regrets speaking immediately.
It probably wasn’t the best way to ask, but he has been asking himself for months, why the boy who doesn't let anyone walk all over him would feel embarrassed or scared to be himself out loud.
"You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"No, it's not that, it's just… I don't know. I don’t exactly feel like parading it around. Also, I don't think I should be telling anything unless there's something to tell, you know?"
"Yeah," Will agrees, even if it stings. The implication that what they are doing is nothing. Obviously he knows that, and he doesn't want it to be anything else other than that. But he can't help himself from feeling hurt. Hurt about being… nothing.
"Can I ask something else?" he says, in an effort to keep himself from going there in his mind.
“Why do I feel like you will no matter what I say?”
"You know me so well," he grins. "So, who was it for you?"
Mike eyebrows crease in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"You know. Who made you realize you were… into men?"
Mike turns to stare at Will, the red light in front them giving him plenty of time. He looks at him blankly, his eyes tracing his face meticulously. Going from his eyes, to his lips, to the mole above his upper lip- and Will swears he can see his jaw tighten.
“No one in particular comes to mind.”
Will feels his face grow hot as he decides to ignore the way his heart skips a beat at the intense scrutiny of Mike Wheeler.
"Oh," he says, back at the road in front of him, the car moving again.
"And you? Did you have a, uhm, what's the term. Gay awakening?"
Will chuckles at Mike's very rare display of awkwardness. "No, no, not really. I just, uhm, I guess I always knew."
"Right," Mike nods.
The car stops, having reached Will's house. He unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out, firmly closing the door behind him.
"So, uh, thanks. For the ride," he says through the open window.
And then, because he’s Mike Wheeler, the most smug son of a bitch on the planet, he grins. "Oh no, thank you for the ride." He winks and starts the car again, driving off before Will can even register the words, much less formulate a coherent response.
“Walked right into that one,” he mutters to himself, turning on his heel in the driveway to make his way towards his house.