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The first time it happens, Mike blames it on the heat.
He and Will are on the couch of their brand new, totally historic apartment, so close to each other that they only take up one cushion. Will's back is against a pillow; his leg is crammed between the back of the couch and Mike's body. What started as a movie devolved into this: Mike, kneeling in between Will's legs, rather enthusiastically making out with him.
Sue him. He finally has his boyfriend alone.
He isn't sure how long it's been since they started kissing, but their current status consists of Mike's hands moving from feeling Will's chest to caressing his jaw. Will's hands are where Mike likes them best: in his hair. They haven't ever gotten to take it this far in the year they've been dating; their kissing usually was interrupted by their friends or family who couldn't leave them alone. Sure, Mike has driven Will towards Lovers' Lake in hopes of kissing in the car, but it's just not the same as this.
"Fuck, Mike," Will groans as they break apart, Mike licking the string of saliva between them into his mouth. Will looks thoroughly kissed; it's just how Mike likes him. His hair is a mess, his lips are red, and his cheeks are flushed. Mike's other favorite part of it all—Will rarely swears, but when he does, it's in moments like these.
Mike assumes that he looks similarly to Will in the moment; he feels a pull in his chest and warm all over. He links his hands behind Will's neck contentedly, grinning unabashedly at his boyfriend. "Can we keep kissing?"
Will's hands rest on Mike's hips, now. "Sure, baby."
Mike feels a roaring fire in his stomach, and he launches forward to kiss Will about it. He can't resist Will when he calls him baby. He ignores the fact that his knees are getting a little sore, being in one position and all, and snakes one hand into the back of Will's hair, tugging on it gently. This elicits a moan from Will, which Mike swallows with his tongue. He loves the feeling of this—of his tongue against Will's. His other hand squeezes Will's shoulder and trails up and down his arm, feeling the different ways Will has filled out since leaving Hawkins.
He's still the same Will, but he's grown into himself more, now. He doesn't have to ration his food or worry about demogorgons attacking him anymore. He's even taken up running, which gives his arms a toned feeling to them as Mike explores how it feels on his fingertips.
One of Will's hands stays on Mike's hip, and the other returns to his hair. He gives a tighter tug—Mike prefers it like that—and Mike falls forward, unable to help himself as he moans loudly.
That's when he feels it.
Their hips have accidentally collided, and between Mike's pajama pants and Will's shorts, Mike can feel everything. He freezes, refusing to move his body at all. He searches Will's eyes to see what he's thinking, but he can't read his expression. It's a mixture of daze and something else. Mike doesn't know what to do.
He feels his palm on Will's bare arm getting sweaty, and he hopes Will can't feel it. "I—um…" He stutters, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. "It's… It's getting hot in here. We should turn on the fans." And he shifts his hips back away from Will's, wincing a bit at the feeling of his lower half not touching anything anymore.
Will's brows furrow for a split second—Mike almost misses it—before he's clearing his throat and nodding, removing his hands off Mike. "Yeah. Okay. We can… We can get rid of the heat."
Mike sits at his desk in their bedroom, pretending to read a book, until his boner goes down.
The second time it happens, it should probably be expected.
They're in their bedroom, lazily kissing on a Sunday morning. They went over to their friends' apartment last night, where they both tried a cigarette and hated the taste. After a night of board games and sharing a mixed drink, neither has any particular urge to get up. Their bed is pushed to the corner of the room to make room for Will's extra art supplies; Mike doesn't mind it because Will then gets the warmest spot trapped between Mike and the wall.
They kiss each other softly, both laying on their pillows so they don't even have to get up. Mike's hand is on the back of Will's neck—they both like when it gets warm—and his other is between his and Will's chest, intertwined with Will's. Will's free hand rests on Mike's hip, rubbing small circles into his skin where his shirt has rode up.
"I love you," Mike tells him—just because he can. Ever since he started saying it, he hasn't wanted to stop. Screw morning breath; screw their eight a.m. classes. All he needs is to love Will Byers.
Will beams at him. Squeezes his hand three times. "I love you, too." And he leans in, lifting his head off the pillow so he can kiss him more fervently.
Mike hums happily at the new angle. He smiles into the kiss when Will bites his lower lip, running his tongue over it afterwards.
After a few seconds—what's likely closer to a few minutes—Will pulls back, looking at Mike with a glint in his eyes. "Can I…" He sucks in a breath, almost nervously.
"What, love?" Mike asks.
"Can I sit on you?" Will asks in one breath, forcing the words out of his mouth like he can't believe he's really asking. He sucks in his breath sharply, immediately trying to take back his own words. "I mean—We don't have to. I just—"
"Will, love—of course, you can," Mike interrupts, rolling over flat onto his back. As Will gets on his knees and crawls towards him, Mike watches, pulling another pillow under his head. He's half hard, and he most certainly doesn't plan on making it Will's problem.
It's a bridge they haven't crossed yet. Usually, they'll cut their kissing off when it becomes too much, in which they'll either go to separate rooms to take care of the problems separately or try to pretend like it doesn't exist. It's just how it has always been; the most they've done is palming themselves under their shorts from respective corners of the room. Mike is trying his best to be a gentleman, and he doesn't want to presume that Will wants sex. Their relationship has been more about kissing when they're finally alone or cuddling in the presence of the Party. Mike would rather die than do anything to make Will uncomfortable.
So when Will brackets his legs around Mike's hips and leans in to kiss him, Mike realizes that there's going to be a problem.
He pulls Will's waist forward in an attempt to move him away from his crotch, dragging his other hand through Will's hair. The problem only grows, though, for Mike can feel himself getting fully hard, and if Will leaned back even slightly, he'd completely feel it.
Will is getting comfortable above him, tugging both his hands through Mike's hair as he sucks on his lower lip. Mike knows where this is going. Will is going to feel his erection, and the mood will be completely killed.
He puts a stop to it before he gets too indulgent. "Love," he says as he pulls away—voice hoarse. "We should get up."
Will frowns above him and sits up straight, which is good in theory until he brushes Mike's dick as he sits back. Will fidgets with his hands and purses his lips, examining Mike. "Okay. If that's what you want."
Mike realizes from his new view that what he had been feeling poking him wasn't something Will forgot in his pocket. No, it's the erection that Will is now trying to cover up, squirming and biting his lip like he's nervous.
"Y—Yeah," Mike stutters out. "That's fine."
Will gets off him and goes to the shower. Mike buries his face in his pillow and contemplates planning his own funeral.
The third time it happens, they finally talk about it.
They're on the couch again, cuddling after Lucas and Max departed for their own apartment. They group called Dustin earlier and then watched a movie; now, it's just them in their apartment.
They made up quickly after the Sunday incident. Mike couldn't read Will's expression again, but seemingly whatever had been bothering him was resolved by the time they ate lunch. If Will doesn't want to talk about it, Mike won't, either.
It's not that Mike doesn't want to have sex with Will; he's just nervous. They've been best friends for too long for Mike to go and mess it up. If he had to chose between celibacy and losing Will, he'd never touch his dick again. He's obsessed with the feeling of kissing Will already, and he's more than content cuddling with Will. He can survive with just that. He doesn't want to make it awkward by bringing up sex.
This time, Will is laying on Mike on the couch. They're both facing the television, although they're not sure what show is on anymore. Mike's knees are on both sides of Will's lower half; Will seems more than comfortable as Mike slowly massages his head and neck.
Will hums contentedly, rubbing circles onto Mike's chest with his hand. He peeks up at Mike, a toothy smile appearing. "Kiss?" He asks ever so softly.
Mike is more than happy to oblige. His hands sit on Will's lower back as he adjusts himself to get closer to Mike's face. He presses a chaste kiss to Mike's lips before pressing another to his jaw and then his neck. This is a newer development; they've never consecutively done this. Usually, their neck kisses are more fleeting, less purposeful. Mike feels a tug in his stomach as Will continues, and he wants to worry about it, but his lips have reattached to Will's. He ignores how Will's elbows dig into his chest. He's too busy biting into Will's lip in return.
He loves getting lost in Will's kisses. He could live like this, as close as possible to Will as their tongues swirl around each other. It's as close to being in Will's skin as he can get—a concept Mike often wishes he could feel. It makes Mike's brain go fuzzy, kissing Will. His chest gets warm, and his brain finally goes quiet.
It's precisely why Mike doesn't notice himself getting hard. It's also precisely why he doesn't notice Will getting hard above him.
He's enthusiastically sucking on Will's tongue when their hips collide, causing Will to shudder above him and Mike's hips to involuntarily buck. He freezes in the kiss, barely pulling away from Will's mouth as he whispers, "Love. We should—Oh, shit."
Will has accidentally rocked against him as he props himself up on his elbows again to look at Mike. This time, a frown joins his flushed face. "You're going to say we should stop," he says flatly. It's supposed to be a question, but Will says it like he already knows the answer.
Mike's dick aches. He wants nothing more than to roll his hips up against Will's, but he doesn't want to force Will into anything. He blinks slowly, trying to find his words. "We should talk about it first, don't you think?" It's a good resolution in his mind. If Will doesn't want sex, he hasn't made it sound pressuring. If Will does want sex, they can figure out the logistics before it happens.
Will's brows stay furrowed together, and he hisses as he sits up, his dick brushing against Mike's again in the process. "Fine," he tells him. "I'm going to go take care of this first, though," he gestures at his crotch.
Mike hums happily. It's nice that they'll finally talk about it. He's not sure why Will looks so unhappy, so he tries to smile at him to cheer him up. "Okay, love. I'll wait here for you."
And so he waits, ignoring his dick as it softens without Will being around anymore. He checks his watch periodically and tries to get into the show. He wants to give Will his privacy, but not even ten minutes later, Will is marching back out to the living room.
He sits in the arm chair next to the couch, which is unusual. His frown has deepened, and he crosses his arms as he avoids looking at Mike.
"Babe," Mike sits up, realizing something is wrong. "Are you okay?"
Will sucks in a breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and replies meekly, "Do you not want to have sex?"
"What?"
"Sex, Mike." Will looks at him directly now. "You don't seem to want it. Do you?"
This isn't how he envisioned the conversation going. He sputters, now avoiding looking at his boyfriend. "I—Well, you know—Who—"
"Mike," Will's voice softens. "If you don't want it, that's okay. I just… I want to talk about it, if that's okay."
"I thought we were going to talk about it after you… You know, took care of yourself," Mike mutters.
"I couldn't. I was too frustrated."
Mike freezes, feeling anxiety rising in him. "Why were you frustrated?"
"The last few times we've made out, we always… We always stop right before anything happens," Will answers.
"That was only, like, once!" Mike says defensively. He's embarrassed to be the reason Will is pent up. What kind of boyfriend is he?
"It was actually three times, to be exact." Will's lip twitches in amusement.
This breaks the awkwardness between them as a laugh escapes Mike, which Will then mirrors. Mike makes grabbing hands at Will, who easily caves, joining him on the couch. Will sits across from him and intertwines their hands.
"I was starting to wonder if you didn't want sex at all," Will admits, rubbing Mike's knuckles with his thumb. "It's okay if you don't. I just… I just want to talk about it with you."
"No, no, no. I do want it. I just—you know, what if I'm bad at it?" He bites the inside of his cheek, fidgeting slightly. "What if you, like, hate it?"
"Mike, baby, I've been dreaming about this for years. I promise you, you're not going to disappoint me."
"Saying it is a lot different than doing it."
Will holds the back of Mike's hand to his lips and kisses it, holding eye contact with Mike the entire time. "I mean it."
Mike focuses on his breathing while maintaining eye contact. When he's ready to speak, he does so quietly. "I don't want to disappoint you. Our relationship is so good, and I don't want sex to ruin it. Of course, I want it with you. I just… what if it changes us, and we don't like it?"
"I get it, baby. You're worried about it changing things?"
Mike nods, squeezing Will's hands tighter.
Will doesn't seem bothered at all. "It is a big change, but I don't think it has to be a bad thing. Right? What's the worst that can happen—we try something out and decide we don't like it?"
"You… You would be okay with that?" Mike's insecurity creeps in—the worries that tell him he'll be inadequate at it, that Will could be treated better by someone else.
"I would be okay with it," Will confirms. He smiles sweetly at Mike, caressing his cheek with one hand. "Are you sure sex is something you would want to try?"
"Yes. Definitely," Mike replies without an ounce of hesitation.
"Okay, baby. We can take it slow, yeah? We don't have to do anything we don't want to do."
"I love you."
"I love you, too," Will echoes.
They don't do anything besides cuddling for the rest of the night.
They plan out their first attempt at sex, naturally.
It all starts with casual conversations, with Mike mentioning how he doesn't work on Saturday and Will sharing that he gets home early on Friday. And even though they don't plan on going "all the way," they agree to count it as sex. They don't need labels on what counts as sex, they decide.
Once they decide there won't be any penetration happening, neither really has to prepare for Friday night. Mike stands naked in front of the mirror after a shower one day and debates trimming his hair, but he gets distracted by a pimple that he wants to try to pop. As long as they're showered and clean, they don't need any fancy preparation.
Mike is laying in bed when Will gets home from class early on Friday. It's early in the afternoon; Will's teacher is sick this week. Mike has been reading a book, but ten minutes ago, he stopped reading and started checking his watch continuously until the second Will arrived home.
"Hey, baby," Will beams as he crawls onto the bed to greet Mike, kissing him firmly and cuddling into his side.
"Hey. How was class?" Mike asks. Will's Friday morning class is an art workshop, so he's usually either working on a project or doing critiques.
"It was okay. Got our next big project."
"Are you stressed about it?"
Will shrugs. "Not yet."
Mike runs his hand up and down Will's arm as he tries to think of the best way to word his next question. "Do you want to kiss and have sex?" He blurts.
To his surprise, Will breaks into a fit of laughter.
"Hey! I'm serious," he complains with no bite.
Will kisses him gently for a few seconds before pulling away. "I know, baby."
"And, um, what's your answer?"
"Yes. My answer is yes."
A smile spreads across Mike's face; he's buzzing with excitement inside. He rolls towards Will, sliding their lips together messily. Will happily lays on the pillow, kissing back with equal fervor.
It gets heated quickly; Will rests his hands on Mike's waist, eagerly tugging him forward. Mike kisses from his lips down his neck, moving aside Will's collar to latch to his collarbone. He's never given anyone a hickey before, but he finally wants to try.
"Oh," Will breathes as he tightens his grasp on Mike, letting his head fall back onto the pillow as Mike sucks and bites at his skin. Really, it's the noises Will makes that turns Mike on most. He enjoys having something to do with his mouth on its own, but the added sound only makes it better.
Mike realizes as he comes up for air that he's painfully hard. Without letting himself think too much about it, he wraps his leg over Will's, creating friction. "Oh, shit," he murmurs on accident.
Will groans below him, tugging on his hips again. One hand slides to his lower back, brushing over the waistband of his boxers, and presses down. "You can do that," Will tells him, voice raspy and full of want.
Mike moves slowly, dragging his hips up and down. He looks at Will's collarbone, already reddening, and looks down lower, realizing that Will is also hard. And—well, that just won't do. Mike can't be the only one getting off. He removes his hand from Will's collar and drags his down his chest, hesitating as he gets to his lower stomach. He stops his movements and tries to ask as smoothly as possible, "Can I… Can I touch you?"
"Fuck, Mike. Yes. You can."
He grins, going for the button of Will's jeans, but it's an awkward angle to be doing so, especially when all he can think about is his own dick touching Will's leg and the fact that he's about to touch Will's.
"Come on," Will mutters under his breath. He unclasps the button himself, swatting Mike's hand away. And when the zipper is pulled down, he grabs the waistband of his jeans and looks pointedly at Mike. "Hips up," he says.
"Okay." Mike bites back a groan at the loss of sensation against his dick, but he's also excited to be able to touch Will's actual skin.
Will shimmies off his jeans down to his knees and toothily smiles at Mike. His hand finds the back of Mike's waist again, and he presses down on it. "Kiss me," he tells him.
He's happy to oblige, eagerly kissing Will again. He presses his hips to Will's leg again, moaning into his mouth while doing so. With his free hand that he's not leaning on, he softly trails down from Will's chest to the edge of his boxers, lightly tracing the line of skin above it teasingly. Over his boxes, he lightly palms Will. It's a complicated maneuver at first; Mike isn't used to multitasking like this. After a few seconds of touching his boyfriend, he realizes he hasn't been kissing Will at all, rather just leaning his open mouth against his.
Still, Will's whine as Mike rubs against him makes it all worth it, and he kisses him fervently again. Their tongues mix together, and Mike continues his motions. His hips tremble as he ruts against Will. He thinks he can feel a wet spot in his boxers under his sweatpants, which he's almost embarrassed about until he feels it.
He can feel a wet patch on Will's boxers where his tip is, which he enthusiastically uses as motivation to add more pressure to his motions. He likes feeling Will through his boxers; he can practically feel everything. It's just about the hottest thing he has ever felt—unless he counts eventually feeling Will's actual dick.
Neither of them have ever done anything like this before. They're each other's first boyfriend; minus Mike's chaste childhood kisses and Max's dare to Will and Lucas dare to kiss each other senior year of high school, they're each other's first for everything else. Everything that really matters. It's only one of the reasons that Mike is so set on getting it right; he would rather die than disappoint Will.
Will brings him back into the moment as he kisses down Mike's jaw. His one hand is still in Mike's hair, tugging him closer, and his other hand presses down on his waist in the rhythm that he's rocking against him in. Mike focuses on making Will feel good instead, letting his mouth hang open as he holds his upper body up, gasping into Will's forehead as he kisses his neck. Will squirms underneath him, and Mike realizes he wants more.
He hesitates at the waistband of his boxers. "Can I?" He whispers—attempting to sound attractive, but it more comes out as a croak.
"Mm-hmm," Will murmurs, dragging his teeth across Mike's neck. "Yeah, baby."
"Fuck," Mike ever-so-eloquently gasps at baby. With only a half a second of hesitation, he dips his hand into Will's boxers, finding Will's tip immediately. He jerks him off slowly, wanting to savor every second of this. He loves how warm Will feels; he had always imagined that the sensation would be too sticky, but he finds since it's Will he doesn't mind.
Will helps him rock his hips against his leg, and Mike focuses solely on getting off Will. He likes having a task like this. Will's sounds are nothing but motivation to him. He jerks him off just like he does to himself, basing it off Will's reactions. When Will bites his lips, Mike slows down until he whines in want. When Will gets all breathy and panty, Mike speeds it up, adding pressure to his motions. And when Mike runs his fingers over the tip, Will moans so loudly that it can probably be heard from the living room.
Mike may not be able to use both hands at once—given how once is still propping himself up over Will—but he's always been better with his mouth.
"You like that?" He murmurs to Will, teeth accidentally hitting the top of his ear. "You sound so good, Will."
"N—not Will," he breathes. "The other."
Mike preens. "Okay. You sound so good, love."
That gets the biggest moan out of Will all afternoon. He frantically grabs at Mike's waist, gripping the waistband of his boxers and sweatpants. "Mike—baby, can I take these off? Please. Just want to feel you."
"Holy shit. Yes, love. Take them off." Mike palms Will slowly as Will pulls his pants and boxers down in one swoop. They don't even bother moving them past Mike's knees, for Will is eyeing up Mike's dick like he's just won a prize.
"I—Can I touch you? I need to touch you."
"Yeah. Touch me. Do whatever you want with me. I'm yours." Mike kisses Will, but he gasps into his mouth as Will encloses his hand around his dick for the first time. He pumps him slowly, gathering the pre-cum from his tip and using it as a lubricant.
This only makes Mike bury his face into Will's neck and jerk him off faster. "You—holy shit—you feel so good, love." His breath hits Will's neck, which would usually make him shiver if not for the fact that they're both sweaty and hot.
Will moans into his hair as a response.
"Yeah? Are you going to come in my hand?" Mike keeps going, happy to have something to take his mind off coming too early. Will has to come first, he's decided.
"Mike, holy shit—baby, I think I—"
"You can come, love. Just want to make you feel good."
"Oh, my god—"
Mike realizes he's rocking his hips into Will's hand, too. He speeds up his wrist, whispering into Will's ear, "You feel so good. Come for me."
And Will does, gasping and moaning into Mike's hair as he comes all over his stomach and Mike's hand. And the feeling alone makes Mike come on the spot, too. He pants into Will's ear and rocks until he's spent.
He relaxes against Will, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of his cum between him and Will. "Holy shit, Will," he breathes. "That was awesome. Why weren't we doing that sooner?"
Will breaks into a fit of laughter. "Ask yourself! I could've told you this, like, three months ago." He hugs Mike closer, kissing his forehead softly.
"Okay, okay. You're right. I concede," Mike laughs with him, tilting his head upwards to kiss Will's lips.
"Mm-hmm. I'm always right."
"You are." He glances around the room. "Should I grab us a water and a washcloth?"
"Can we take a nap after?"
"'Course." Mike rolls off Will, trying not to cringe at the drying liquid on him.
As he exits their bedroom, Will calls after him, "You're the best!"
"I know!" He responds.
When Will wakes up later, closer to dinnertime, Mike is already awake, perched against the headboard. His left hand cards through Will's hair as he rests on Mike's chest. The other is writing in his favorite notebook. He's been practically vibrating with excitement, waiting for Will to wake up, but he doesn't want to overwhelm him. It's why he categorized the list he's making, thank you very much.
"What're you doing?" Will wonders, rubbing at his eyes as he awakes.
Mike perks up immediately. "Okay. So I made a list of things for us to try. Not tonight, but, like, in the future." He holds up his notebook proudly and clears his throat. "First, I really want to give you a blowjob."
Will chokes on air and breaks into a coughing fit.
Mike continues talking, though. "And then I have rimming—that could be either of us, you know, or we could both try it—and fingering. Also, shower sex. Think about it! We wouldn't even have to move to clean. We could get clean and fingered all in, like, the same time period. And also, I was wondering if we should workshop dirty talk at all. See, I think I might like…"
They spend the rest of the night in bed, only getting up when their takeout arrives just to return straight to the bed. And when they have sex again that night, it comes as a surprise to neither of them this time.