Archive of Our Own

Mike was hunched over the kitchen table, a mountain of textbooks threatening to bury him alive. A half-empty mug of coffee sat beside his elbow, cold and forgotten. The tip of his tongue poked out slightly from the corner of his mouth as he scrawled notes in the margin of a worn paperback. He looked up when he heard the soft click of the bedroom door closing, his eyes following Will's movement across the living room.

Will was a vision. He was dressed in a pair of tiny, faded denim shorts that left little to the imagination. They hugged the generous curve of his ass and thick thighs, the frayed hem barely grazing the tender skin where his legs met his body, Mike could already feel how the soft flesh would give so beautifully under his hands. A simple white crop top exposed the soft plane of his stomach and the delicate trail of hair leading down from his navel. He’d also added makeup—dark, smudged eyeliner that made his eyes look greener, and a slick of lipgloss that shone wetly under the apartment lights. Mike already knew it would taste of cherry; he’d had that flavor on his tongue more times than he could count.

"Hey," Mike said, his voice a little rough from disuse.

Will startled, not realizing Mike had seen him. He gave a small, almost shy smile. "Hey. I'm just heading out. Charlie's having a little get-together. I didn't want to disturb you."

He moved towards the front door, his shoes silent on the carpet. He was almost there, hand on the doorknob, when a shadow fell over him. He turned just as Mike pressed up against him, caging him in with an arm on either side of his head, his body a warm, solid wall. The distinct, heavy ridge of Mike's cock, even soft, pressed insistently against Will's navel through the thin fabric of his sweatpants.

"You think you can just walk out of here," Mike murmured, his voice low and dangerous, "without saying a proper goodbye?"

Will's breath hitched. He tilted his head back, looking up at Mike through his lashes. "I... I didn't want to distract you."

Mike's eyes dropped to Will's glossy lips. "Now you know that's a lie. Walking out looking like this." He leaned down and captured Will's mouth in a deep, possessive kiss. It wasn't chaste or sweet; it was a claiming. His tongue swept in, tasting the cherry lipgloss, and he groaned softly at the familiar flavor. One of his big hands slid down from the door to grip Will's hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh just above the waistband of his shorts.

Will melted against him, his hands coming up to fist in the front of Mike's shirt. He could feel the heat radiating off Mike's body, the surprisingly sturdy muscle shifting under his palms. Mike's other hand moved to the back of Will's neck, holding him in place as the kiss deepened, their tongues sliding together in a wet, messy glide.

"You're so fucking pretty," Mike breathed against Will's mouth, his thumb stroking over the sharp line of Will's jaw. "My pretty boy."

Will whined softly, pushing his hips forward to grind against the growing bulge in Mike's pants. "Mike..."

Mike chuckled, a husky sound from the back of his throat. He pulled back, his lips swollen and smeared with lipgloss. "Go have fun," he said, his hand slipping down to give Will's ass a firm squeeze through the denim. "Don't stay out too late."

Will nodded, dazed, his own lips feeling puffy and sensitive. He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking down to the now very obvious tent in Mike's sweatpants. He licked his lips, tasting Mike and cherry. "Good luck with the studying," he whispered. "Maybe when I get back you can take a break."

Mike just hummed in agreement, watching as Will finally managed to open the door and slip out. The soft click of the lock echoed in the sudden quiet of the apartment. Mike pressed his forehead against the door with a sigh, adjusting himself in his pants. He had a lot of work to do, and now a very distracting image of Will in those shorts to try and forget.

Charlie's apartment was warm and chaotic, filled with the low thrum of music and the sound of overlapping conversations. The lighting was soft, coming from a few strategically placed lamps and a string of multicolored fairy lights draped over the bookshelves. It was the perfect kind of gathering for Will—intimate enough to not be overwhelming, but lively enough to pull him out of his own head.

He was quickly pulled into a circle of friends on the floor, a mixed group of girls and guys from his art classes and the local queer scene. They were passing around a bottle of cheap red wine, and someone had made a huge bowl of popcorn. Will accepted a plastic cup of wine and settled in, his back against the couch, feeling himself relax for the first time all week.

The conversation flowed from music to bad horror movies to the latest campus gossip. They were all a few drinks in, cheeks flushed and voices loud, when the topic inevitably turned to sex.

"So, like, what's the weirdest kink you've ever encountered?" asked a guy named Mickey, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

This prompted a volley of hilarious and horrifying stories, from a guy who wanted to be spanked with a bible to a girl who had a thing for men dressed as clowns. Will was laughing so hard his sides hurt, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

The conversation then shifted to first times, and the mood turned more nostalgic and soft.

"My first time was so awkward," sighed a girl named Lucy, tucking her legs under her. "We were both virgins and had no idea what we were doing. I think we banged heads, like, three times."

Will smiled, swirling the dregs of his wine in his cup. When the attention turned to him, he didn't hesitate.

"My first time was... intense," he started, a dreamy look crossing his face. "It was with Mike, obviously. We'd been... figuring things out for a while, but the night we properly got together we just went for it. And he's..." Will trailed off, searching for the right word. He glanced around the circle, his friends listening with rapt attention. "Well, he's not exactly... small."

A chorus of "Ooohs" and knowing giggles went up.

"No, seriously," Will insisted, his cheeks flushing pink. "It was a lot. He was so gentle and careful, but the stretch... God, it was like I was being split open in the best possible way. I could feel him everywhere, all at once. It was almost too much, but I didn't want it to stop. I felt so fucking full. It was like he was reshaping me. God, it was perfect."

The silence was broken by a chorus of "Oh my God" and a playful shove from Charlie. "Will! You absolute size queen! I knew it!"

Will's face went from pink to crimson, but he couldn't help but laugh along with the rest of them. "What? I'm just being honest!" The teasing was good-natured, and it felt good to be able to talk about this part of his life so openly.

The conversation moved on, but the topic lingered in the back of Will's mind like the ghost of Mike's touch, a persistent thrum beneath his skin. As his friends debated the merits of different horror movie franchises, Will found himself drifting, his thoughts circling back to that first time with Mike—the memory of Mike's thick length pressing against him, the dizzying sensation of being stretched to his absolute limit, the overwhelming fullness that had left him breathless and trembling. He took another sip of wine, the cheap, fruity taste doing little to distract him from the phantom ache between his legs.

Hours later, the party was winding down. Will was well past tipsy, his head spinning pleasantly. He was draped over the back of the couch, singing along badly to an old David Bowie song someone had put on the record player.

Charlie came over and gently extracted the empty wine cup from his hand. "Alright, Ziggy Stardust, I think it's time to call your man," she said, her voice full of fond amusement.

Will pouted. "Nooooo. Mike's studddying," he whined.

"And I'm sure he'd rather pick up his drunk boyfriend than have you try and walk home alone at this hour," she said, already skimming the book next to the phone for Mike's number. She pressed the receiver to her ear as it began to ring. "Hey, Mike? It's Charlie. Yeah, he's great, just... very, very happy. Can you come get him?"

Will couldn't make out what Mike's muffled voice on the other end was saying, but he could hear the mix of exasperation and affection.

Within twenty minutes, Mike was at the door and being greeted by a very tipsy Mickey, who threw it open with a flourish and a wide, unsteady grin. "Mike! The hero arrives!" he announced with a theatrical bow that almost sent him tumbling over.

The apartment was quieter now, the music turned down low. Mike's eyes scanned the room, immediately finding Will, who was now attempting to braid Charlie's hair with very little success, and let out a soft sigh. "Come on, you menace," he said, crossing the room.

Will's face lit up like the sun. "Mike!" He launched himself at his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his neck and nearly knocking them both over. Mike stumbled but caught him easily, his hands instinctively going to Will's ass to steady him.

"Hey, hey, easy there," Mike chuckled, his nose buried in Will's hair. He smelled of wine and popcorn, and Mike felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him.

"Take me home and fuck me," Will whispered loudly into his ear, his voice slurred but earnest.

Mike blushed, glancing over Will's shoulder at Charlie, who was trying and failing to hide her laughter behind her hand. "Yeah, okay. Let's get you home first."

He said his goodbyes and thank-yous, maneuvering a clingy Will out the door and onto the sidewalk. The cool night air hit Will like a slap, and he burrowed deeper into Mike's side.

"You're so warm," Will mumbled, his hands sliding under Mike's jacket to touch the t-shirt beneath. "And you smell so good."

Mike just shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. He guided Will home, their steps slow and meandering. Will kept stopping to try and kiss him, to nuzzle his neck, to tell him he loved him over and over again.

When they finally got back to their apartment, Mike sat Will on the edge of the bed and knelt to pull off his shoes. Will watched him with bleary, adoring eyes.

"Are you gonna fuck me now?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

Mike looked up at him, his expression soft. "Not tonight, baby. You're drunk."

Will's face fell into an epic pout. "But I waaant it."

"I know you do," Mike said, standing up to help Will out of his shirt. He kissed the tip of his nose. "But I want you to remember it in the morning. Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

He helped Will into a pair of soft sweatpants, the fabric a welcome relief after the tight shorts. He made him drink a large glass of water, two painkillers, and then finally tucked him into bed. Will was already half-asleep, his body heavy and relaxed.

Mike got undressed and slid in beside him, pulling the smaller boy into his arms. Will immediately latched on, draping a leg over Mike's hips and nuzzling his chest.

"Love you, Mikey," he mumbled into the warm skin.

"I love you too, Will," Mike whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He stroked Will's hair until his breathing evened out into sleep, the last of his energy finally spent.

The morning sun filtering through the blinds was too bright. Will groaned, burying his head under the pillow. His mouth tasted like death, and his head was pounding. He felt the bed shift beside him, and then a cool hand was gently stroking his back.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Mike's voice was soft, laced with amusement. "How's the hangover?"

Will peered out from under the pillow, squinting at Mike. "Terrible," he croaked. "Why are you so bright?"

Mike laughed, a sound that Will felt in his bones. "That's the sun, baby. Not me."

He leaned down and kissed Will's temple. "I've got coffee and toast for you. And more water."

Will grumbled but allowed himself to be coaxed into sitting up. He sipped the coffee gratefully, the hot liquid soothing his raw throat. The food helped, and slowly, the world came back into focus.

He looked over at Mike, who was sitting against the headboard, a textbook open in his lap but his attention entirely on Will. The morning light caught the angles of his face, the soft curve of his lips, the dark lashes framing his eyes. A wave of affection and desire washed over him, stronger than the hangover.

"Thank you for coming to get me," Will said, his voice still a little hoarse.

"Always," Mike replied simply.

Will set his coffee aside and shuffled closer. He ran a hand up Mike's thigh, feeling the firm muscle beneath his sweatpants. "You know," he said, his voice dropping to a lower register, "I feel like you should get a reward for being such a good boyfriend last night."

Mike raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. He closed the book and set it aside. "Is that right?"

Will nodded, his hand inching higher. "I feel much better now. And I'm sober."

Mike's hand came up to cup Will's cheek, his thumb brushing over Will's lower lip. "Well, in that case... I think I might be persuaded to take a little study break."

The kiss that followed was slow and deep, a remapping of already explored territory. It was a lazy, Sunday morning kind of kiss, full of soft sighs and gentle flicks of their tongues. Mike's hands roamed over Will's bare chest, tracing the lines of his ribs, the dip of his waist, the soft swell of his ass.

Will's own hands were busy, pushing up Mike's shirt, wanting to feel more of his skin. His fingers traced the dusting of hair on his navel, the slight definition of his stomach. They broke apart just long enough to pull Mike's shirt over his head, then they were back together, skin on skin, the contact sending a fresh jolt of arousal through them both. Will's hands were mapping the expanse of Mike's back now, the strong muscles shifting under his touch.

Mike guided him to lie back against the pillows, settling between his legs. He kissed his way down Will's neck, across his collarbone, pausing to tease a nipple with his tongue. Will arched into the touch, his fingers threading through Mike's dark curls.

"Mike, please," he breathed, his hips already rolling in search of friction.

Mike's hands hooked into the waistband of Will's sweatpants, pulling them down with agonizing slowness. He kissed his way down Will's stomach, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin. He bypassed Will's hard cock, kissing the inside of his thighs, his teeth grazing the soft flesh.

He pushed Will's thighs up and apart, exposing him completely. Will's breath hitched, his hands fisting in the sheets. He watched, entranced, as Mike lowered his head and ran the flat of his tongue over Will's hole.

"Oh, fuck," Will gasped, his back arching off the bed.

Mike did it again, a long, slow lick that had Will seeing stars. His hands held Will's thighs firmly, keeping him in place as he worked him open with his tongue. It was a gentle, but thorough assault, all wet heat and soft, probing pressure. Will was a mess of whimpers and moans, his mind going blank with pleasure.

When Mike finally pulled back, Will was a trembling, needy mess. Mike reached for the lube on the nightstand, slicking up his fingers. He worked one into Will easily, then a second, scissoring them gently.

"So good for me," Mike murmured, his eyes fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside Will. "So open and ready."

He added a third finger, and Will felt the familiar, delicious burn that made him crave more.

"More," he pleaded. "Mike, I need more."

Mike smiled, his own cock a heavy, throbbing ache between his legs. He coated himself with lube, the thick length glistening. He lined up and pushed in, just the tip at first.

Will's eyes rolled back in his head at the familiar stretch. "Yes," he hissed, his hands clawing at Mike's shoulders. "Please, give it to me."

Mike pushed forward, inch by glorious inch, until he was buried to the hilt. He held still, letting Will adjust to the fullness, his forehead resting against Will's.

"You feel so good," Mike groaned. "So tight and hot around me."

Will just moaned in response, his legs wrapping around Mike's waist, pulling him even deeper. Mike started to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one hitting that perfect spot inside Will that made sparks explode behind his eyelids.

It was perfect. It was exactly what he needed. But as the pleasure built, a new, more demanding need began to surface. He remembered the conversation from last night, the memory of being stretched beyond his limits. He wanted that again. He wanted to feel that delicious, almost painful fullness.

"Mike," he gasped, his voice ragged. "More... I need more."

Mike frowned, his rhythm faltering slightly. He was already buried to the root; there was no more to give. "Baby, I'm all the way in," he said, confused.

Will shook his head, his hands gripping Mike's arms. "I know, but... I need... I need to be fuller. Can you... can you add a finger? Please?"

Mike's eyes widened in understanding, a dark flicker passing through them as he processed Will's desperate plea. The pupils of his eyes dilated, swallowing the warm brown until only thin rings of color remained. His breath hitched, a low, guttural sound vibrating in his chest as the image of what Will was asking for flooded his mind. He could see it so clearly—his thick cock buried deep inside Will, his own long finger stretching him even wider.

The thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through him, his cock twitching hard inside Will, earning a sharp gasp from the smaller boy beneath him. He looked down at Will, at the flushed, desperate look on his face, at the way his lips were parted and slick with spit.

"Yeah," Mike breathed, his voice rough and thick with desire. "Yeah, baby. I can do that."

He shifted his weight, supporting himself on one arm. He brought his free hand between them, his index finger finding Will's rim where he was already stuffed full with Mike's cock. He circled the muscle gently, feeling the incredible tightness where they were joined.

"Fuck, you're so tight already," he murmured, his own breath catching at the sensation. "This might be uncomfortable."

"Don't care," Will whined, pushing his hips back against the touch. "Do it."

Mike applied steady pressure, and slowly Will's body yielded, the ring of muscle forced even wider around the added thickness. 

"Fuck!" Will cried out, his entire body seizing up. The sensation was intense, a sharp, burning pleasure that went straight to his cock. He felt obscenely full, like he was being split in two in the most incredible way. His vision blurred with tears, his mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Mike was panting, his own control hanging by a thread. The feeling of Will's hole clenching around his cock and his finger was unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was so tight, so hot, the pressure almost too much to bear.

He began to move again, a shallow rocking of his hips, his finger sliding in and out in rhythm with his thrusts. The new stretch was overwhelming for Will. Every nerve ending was on alight. He could feel every ridge and vein of Mike's cock, the hard length of his finger, the way they moved together inside him, carving a space for themselves.

"Mike! Oh god, Mike!" he babbled, his hands scrabbling at the sheets. "I'm so full! It's so much! I'm gonna—"

He didn't even finish the sentence before his orgasm ripped through him. His back arched off the bed, his cock pulsing and spilling between their stomachs. His hole clamped down around Mike's cock and finger, the rhythmic contractions pushing Mike over the edge with a strangled groan, his cock pulsing deep inside Will.

Mike leaned back, his eyes tracking a tear as it slipped from the corner of Will’s eye and disappeared into his hair. He always looked so pretty when he cried — face blushed pinker than usual, his doe eyes wet and glassy. His gaze drifted lower, over the flush on Will’s chest, his peaked nipples, the cum streaked across his stomach, until it settled on where his finger and cock were still buried inside him.

He flexed his finger earning a small gasp from Will before slowly pulling it out. Will’s hole clenched down around his cock almost greedily, making Mike wince at the sudden oversensitivity. He slipped his cock free as gently as possible, leaving Will’s rim red and slightly gaping. Will let out a choked sob at the emptiness, his body still trembling through the aftershocks.

Mike immediately pulled him into his arms, holding him close as he shook. "Shhh, I've got you," he soothed, kissing his sweaty forehead. "You were so amazing, baby. You did so good."

Will clung to him, his face buried in Mike's neck. He felt utterly spent, his body buzzing with a lingering pleasure that made his limbs feel like jelly. The stretch had been like their first time again. It was perfect. It was everything.

But even as the haze of orgasm began to clear, a tiny, insistent voice in the back of his mind whispered: More.

The next few days were a blur of stress and tension. Mike's exam schedule was brutal—three exams in four days. He spent every waking moment that he wasn't in an exam hall with his nose buried in a book, a highlighter clutched in his hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. He barely slept, and when he did, he was plagued by restless dreams about forgetting entire chapters of his notes.

Will stepped up, attempting to return the same care Mike had given him during his own exams. He made sure Mike ate, bringing him plates of food—sandwiches with the crusts cut off just how Mike liked, or pastries from their favorite diner. Every morning he woke up and made Mike a cup of coffee, bringing it to him in bed and gently coaxing him awake with soft kisses and whispered assurances. He kept the album 'Boy in the Box' by Corey Hart on in the background, a low drone that for some reason helped Mike to concentrate.

Mike was incredibly grateful. Between study sessions, he would pull Will into his lap and kiss him soundly, murmuring "thank you" and "I don't know what I'd do without you" against his lips. He'd nuzzle into Will's neck, his stubble scratching against the sensitive skin, and for a brief moment, the stress would melt away, replaced by pure adoration.

But these moments of reprieve were torture for Will. Mike's hands on his hips, the smell of his skin, the low rumble of his voice in his ear—it all served to light a fire in him that had nowhere to go. He'd find himself getting hard from just a simple kiss, his mind immediately filling with thoughts of Mike's big hands holding him down, his thick cock stretching him open.

He tried to be patient. He tried to be good. But he was a nineteen-year-old guy with a high libido and a boyfriend who was currently unavailable. And he quickly realized something else: he hadn't actually masturbated since he and Mike had become a couple. Why would he? Mike was always there, they always wanted each other, and the real thing was infinitely better than his own hand.

Now, he was faced with a problem. He was horny, and he couldn't just jump his boyfriend who was trying to pass his finals.

So, on Wednesday afternoon while Mike was at the library for a group study session, Will decided to take matters into his own hands. Literally.

He lay on their bed, kicking off his sweatpants and underwear. He closed his eyes and tried to picture Mike—the look in his eyes when he was turned on, the flex of his fingers when he gripped Will’s hips, the size of his cock compared to Will’s.

He stroked himself, his hand moving in a familiar rhythm. But it felt... lacking. It was nice, but it wasn't enough. It didn't have the same length, the same weight, the same overwhelming size that Mike did. He tried to focus, but his mind kept drifting back to that morning, to the feeling of Mike's cock and finger inside him, to the incredible, almost-too-much stretch. He wanted that again. He needed that feeling of being filled, of being taken apart and put back together.

His own fingers, when he tentatively pressed one inside himself, felt laughably inadequate. They were too short, too thin. He curled them, trying to hit his prostate, but they couldn’t quite reach. He pulled them out with a frustrated huff.

He remembered then. Tucked away in a box in the back of his closet was a gag gift from a college friend for his birthday this year—a dildo. It was a ridiculous, neon pink thing with a suction cup base. He'd laughed it off at the time, but now, it seemed like his only option.

He retrieved it, feeling a little silly as he looked at it. It was... average. Definitely on the smaller side, especially compared to Mike. It was about five inches long and about half of Mike’s girth. But it was better than nothing.

He went back to the bed, lying back and spreading his legs. He slicked up the toy with lube, the cool gel making it slippery in his hand. He pressed the head against his entrance, taking a deep breath.

The initial stretch was a familiar feeling, but it was so much less intense than what he was used to. He pushed it in, the silicone sliding into place easily. He started to move it, fucking himself with the toy in a steady rhythm. It felt good. It hit some of the right spots. But it wasn't what he craved. The fullness wasn't there. The weight wasn't there. It was like eating a rice cake when he was starving for a full meal.

A frustrated tear escaped his eye and ran down the side of his face. He needed more. He needed Mike.

He was so lost in his own thoughts, his eyes closed, his brow furrowed in concentration and frustration, that he didn't hear the front door open. He didn't hear Mike's footsteps coming down the hall. He didn't realize he was no longer alone until a voice spoke from the doorway.

"Hey, Will, I forgot my—Oh."

Will's eyes flew open, his heart lurching into his throat. Mike was standing in the doorway, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his eyes wide with surprise. His gaze was fixed on the dildo paused all the way inside of Will’s hole, and his expression quickly shifted from shock to something dark and hungry.

Will froze, his face turning a deep shade of crimson. He felt like he'd been caught doing something shameful, even though he knew he wasn't. "Mike," he stammered. "I thought you'd be gone longer."

Mike dropped his bag by the door, his eyes never leaving Will. He slowly crossed the room, his movements slow and predatory. "I, uh, forgot my notes," he said, his voice a low rasp. "But it seems like I've interrupted something."

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his gaze softening slightly as he took in the sight of Will—flushed and disheveled, the toy still buried inside him. "Do you... want me to go? Or do you want some company?"

The question was sweet, giving Will an out. But Will didn't want an out. He wanted Mike. He needed him.

"Stay," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please."

Mike's eyes darkened again. He reached out and placed a hand on Will's thigh, his thumb stroking the soft skin. "What do you need, baby?"

Will's lip trembled. "You," he said, the word a desperate plea. "I tried, Mike, but it's not enough. It's too small. I feel so empty. I need you to fill me up."

Mike's breath hitched, a wave of uncontrollable lust crashing over him. He leaned down and kissed Will, a deep, claiming kiss full of tongue and teeth.

"Fuck, Will," he groaned against his mouth. "You have no idea what you do to me."

He stood up and quickly stripped off his clothes, his cock already hard and straining. He knelt on the bed between Will's legs, looking down at the dildo still inside him.

"Pull it out," he commanded.

Will obeyed immediately, sliding the toy out with a wet sound. Mike took it from him and tossed it on the bed without a second glance. He grabbed the lube and coated his aching length, the sight of it making Will's mouth water.

Mike lined himself with Will’s hole, the rim fluttering, almost like it was trying to grip and pull him in. He groaned at the sight and pushed in, faster than he ever had before, one relentless thrust that had his balls smacking against Will’s ass in a second. 

"Oh god, yes," Will cried out, his legs wrapping around Mike's waist. "That's what I needed."

Mike started to move, his hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm. He was chasing his own pleasure as much as Will's, driven by the desperate need to reshape Will’s hole to his cock. Will was a writhing mess beneath him, his hands clutching at the sheets, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

But even as the pleasure built to a dizzying height, that voice in Will's head started whispering again. More. He needed more. He wanted to be so full he couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

"Mike," he gasped, his voice high and needy. "Please... your fingers. Add your fingers again."

Mike, lost in the tight, slick heat of Will's body, almost didn’t hear him. When it registered, he didn't question it, just slowing his thrusts slightly, reaching between them to press two fingers alongside his cock. Will's body resisted for a second, then gave way, the stretch even more intense than before.

"Fuck, Will!" Mike shouted, his eyes squeezing shut at the incredible pressure. "You're so fucking tight. So good, baby."

Will was beyond words. He was a reduced to pure sensation, his mind completely blanked out by the overwhelming fullness. He could feel every inch of Mike's cock, the long, thick fingers pumping in and out of him. It was perfect, it was everything, but he was still teetering on the edge, unable to fall.

"More," he sobbed, the word ripped from his throat. "Mike, I need more. I need to be fuller."

Mike was barely holding on, his own orgasm coiling tight in his gut. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, but the desperate plea in Will's voice went straight to his cock. He looked around wildly, his eyes landing on the discarded dildo.

"You want this?" he asked, his voice strained.

Will nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face. "Yes. Please. I want everything."

With a groan, Mike grabbed the toy. He pulled his fingers out, making Will whine at the loss, and quickly lubed up the dildo. He pressed the tip against Will's already stretched rim, right next to his own cock.

"This is going to be intense," he warned, his voice rough.

"I don't care," Will panted. "Do it."

Mike pushed. The dildo slid in alongside his cock, and the world went white for both of them. The sound that tore from Will's throat was somewhere between a scream and a sob. His body was stretched wider than ever before, a burning, blissful agony that sent him spiraling over the edge. His orgasm hit him like a freight train, his cock pulsing as he came untouched, his hole clamping down on the impossible intrusion.

The sight, the sound, the feeling of Will's body convulsing around him was too much for Mike. With a roar, he came, emptying himself deep inside Will, his hips jerking erratically as he pumped both his cock and the dildo in and out of Will's spasming hole.

They collapsed together in a tangle of sweaty limbs, both panting as if they'd run a marathon. Mike carefully pulled out the dildo first, then his own softening cock. He rolled onto his back, pulling a limp and utterly spent Will with him.

"Holy fuck," Mike breathed, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief.

Will could only hum in agreement, his body feeling like he'd been put through a wringer. He felt boneless, completely satisfied in a way he'd never been before. He snuggled into Mike's side, his head resting on his chest.

They lay there for a long time, catching their breath, their hearts beating in sync. Eventually, Mike broke the silence.

"That was... not what I was expecting to come home too," he said, his voice soft with wonder. "Are you okay?"

Will nodded against his chest. "More than okay," he mumbled, his eyes already closing. "Perfect."

But even in his post-orgasmic haze, the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place in his mind. As amazing as that was, it still wasn't enough. It wasn't two of Mike. He wanted to feel what it would be like to have two of that thick, heavy, perfect cock inside him at once. He wanted to be filled to the absolute brim with Mike.

He drifted off to sleep, a new, determined thought forming in his mind: he was going to find a way to make that happen.

After Mike's last exam, they collapsed onto the couch in a heap of relieved exhaustion. The stress of the exam period had finally lifted, leaving them both feeling a little giddy and a lot drained.

"I think I'm going to sleep for a week," Mike declared, his head lolling back against the cushions.

Will laughed, snuggling closer. "You deserve it. You were amazing."

Mike smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to Will's forehead. "Couldn't have done it without you."

They spent the morning in a lazy haze, playing video games and watching mindless TV. It was late in the afternoon, the credits of some bad action movie rolling on the screen, when Will spoke up.

"Mike?"

"Hmm?" Mike mumbled, his eyes half-closed.

Will took a deep breath. "About... what we did the other day."

Mike's eyes opened fully, his attention now completely on Will. "Yeah?"

"It was... it was incredible. But..." Will hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip. "Even then, it wasn't... enough. I still wanted more. I wanted... I want to feel like there are two of you inside me."

Mike was silent for a moment, processing this. He shifted, turning to face Will fully. He reached out and took Will's hand in his, his thumb stroking the back of it. "Tell me," he said softly.

"I want to be so full I can't move," Will admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to feel it for days after. I want to be stretched so wide it almost hurts. I... I want to have a mold of your cock so I can always have you, even when you're not there."

Mike's eyes widened. "A mold?"

Will nodded, his cheeks flushing. "I was thinking... you know those kits? The 'Clone-A-Willy' things? I could... we could... make one. Of you. And then... you could fuck me with both."

The idea was so filthy, so wonderfully obscene, that Mike felt his cock twitch in his sweatpants. He stared at Will, seeing the mix of fear and raw desire in his eyes, and felt a surge of love and arousal so powerful, he wasn’t sure what hurt more, his heart or his cock.

"Will," he said, his voice a low rumble. "That's... that's the hottest thing I've ever heard."

Will's face broke into a relieved, hopeful smile. "Really? You're not... weirded out?"

Mike let out a shaky laugh. "Weirded out? Baby, I'm turned on beyond belief. The thought of you, all stretched out and full of me... of two of me... fuck." He leaned in and kissed Will hard, pouring all his desire and love into it.

When they broke apart, they were both breathing heavily. "So," Mike said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "When do we go shopping?

An hour later they were standing in a dimly lit sex shop, the air filled with the smell of plastic and leather. Will was blushing furiously, his eyes fixed on a display of rainbow-colored butt plugs, trying very hard to look anywhere but at Mike.

Mike, on the other hand, looked like a kid in a candy store. He was browsing the shelves with the look he would get when he was working on a particularly interesting campaign. He picked up a huge dildo that was easily as thick as his wrist and wiggled his eyebrows at Will. "Think this would do the trick?"

Will's blush deepened to a shade of crimson that matched the dildo. "Mike! Put that down!" he hissed, grabbing his arm and attempting to pull him away from the display.

Mike just laughed, the sound warm and carefree. He put the toy back and pulled Will into a one-armed hug, kissing the top of his head. "Sorry, baby. I couldn't resist."

Will hid his face in Mike's shoulder, his embarrassment warring with a deep, blossoming affection. He unfortunately loved this side of Mike.

They eventually found the 'Clone-A-Willy' kits. There were a few different options, ranging in price and complexity. Mike picked up the cheapest one, a small box with a picture of a grinning man holding a perfect silicone replica of his own cock.

"This one looks simple enough," Mike said, reading the back of the box. "It comes with the molding powder and the silicone. We just need to add water."

Will took the box from him, his own blush fading as curiosity took over. "Do you think it'll work? I mean... will it be... accurate?"

Mike grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Only one way to find out."

They brought the kit to the counter, where a bored-looking woman with purple hair rang them up without so much as batting an eye. Will felt a little less embarrassed. As they were leaving, Mike pointed to a display of vibrating cock rings.

"Maybe next time we should get one of those," he whispered in Will's ear, his breath hot against his skin.

Will just shoved him out the door, his face once again aflame, but he was smiling.

Back at their apartment, they laid out all the contents of the kit on the kitchen table like it was a science experiment. There was a plastic tube, a bag of molding powder, a smaller bottle of liquid silicone, a thermometer, and very detailed instructions with illustrations.

The first problem became apparent when Mike looked at the size of the molding tube. It was... decidedly average-sized.

"Uh, Will?" Mike said, holding up the tube and then looking down at his own soft cock, which was already larger than the container's diameter. "I don't think I'm gonna fit in this."

Will peered at the tube, then at Mike, and then burst out laughing. "Oh my god," he wheezed, clutching his stomach. "Of course. Of course your dick is too big for the standard mold."

Mike was trying to be annoyed, but Will's laughter was infectious. He soon found himself chuckling along. "Okay, so maybe we should have sprung for the 'Deluxe' kit."

They looked at the clock. The store was still open for another hour. With a shared sigh and a shrug, Mike pulled up his pants and they headed back out.

This time, they went straight for the premium kit. The box was bigger, the price tag higher, and the molding tube was reassuringly large. The cashier gave them a knowing smirk this time, which made Will's ears burn, but he didn't care. He was getting a clone of his boyfriend's massive cock.

By the time they arrived home, the mood had shifted from playful to heated. Mike stripped off his clothes, his body already responding to the anticipation in Will's eyes.

"Need your help," Mike said, his voice cracking slightly. "I have to be, at... at full attention for this."

Will didn't need to be told twice. He dropped to his knees in front of Mike, his hands already reaching for the waistband of his boxers. He pulled them down, freeing Mike's rapidly hardening cock. He took a moment to just look at it, to admire the thick, heavy length, the prominent veins, the way it jutted out from Mike's body, impossibly large and perfect.

He leaned forward and licked a slow stripe from base to tip, savoring the taste of him. Mike's hand came to rest on his head, his fingers tangling in Will's hair.

"That's it, baby," Mike groaned as Will took the head into his mouth, his lips stretching wide to accommodate the girth.

Will set to work with a single-minded focus, using all his tricks—his tongue swirling around the head, his hand stroking what wouldn't fit in his mouth, the occasional deep swallow that had Mike's knees buckling. He wanted Mike as hard as possible, wanted to create the most perfect replica.

When Mike was panting and thrusting gently into his mouth, Will pulled back with a wet pop. "I think you're ready," he said, his voice hoarse.

Mike's cock was flushed dark red at the tip, standing at full, proud attention. It was a magnificent sight.

They followed the instructions carefully, mixing the molding powder with the precise amount of water. Mike carefully inserted his cock into the thick, gooey mixture, hissing slightly at the temperature.

They waited. The four minutes feeling like an eternity..

"Okay, time's up," Will said, checking the clock.

Mike slowly and carefully extracted himself from the now-solid mold. It was a perfect, negative imprint of his cock. Will couldn't help but reach out and touch it, tracing as far down as his fingers could reach, the shape of the head, the indents where the veins would be.

"This is so weird," he laughed, but his eyes were gleaming.

The next step was to pour the liquid silicone into the mold. When they were done they sealed it and placed it on the counter, and that was when the real waiting game began. Twenty-four hours.

"Well," Mike said, washing his hands in the sink. "That was... an experience."

Will came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Thank you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. "For doing this with me."

Mike turned in his arms, cupping Will's face in his hands. "I’d do anything for you, Will. You know that."

They spent the rest of the evening half-watching the original Star Wars trilogy, both of them too excited about the mold to properly pay attention. Luckily they’d already seen the movies about ten times.

When Luke first ignited the lightsaber, the long blue blade snapping out with that deep, heavy hum, Will visibly squirmed on the couch. His thighs pressed together and his eyes flicked, almost guiltily, toward the kitchen where the mold was still setting.

Mike noticed immediately. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched Will out of the corner of his eye, a slow smirk pulling at his mouth. When Will squirmed again, Mike leaned in a little, voice low and amused.

“You good?”

Will’s face went pink. “Shut up.”

The next night, Saturday, they were both vibrating with nervous energy. They ordered takeout, but neither of them had much of an appetite. They sat on the bed, the mold between them, staring at it like it was a bomb about to go off.

"Should we do it?" Will asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Mike nodded. "Go ahead, baby."

He carefully broke open the mold, his fingers working slowly. And then, there it was.

A perfect, silicone replica of Mike's cock. It was exact in every detail—the length, the girth, the thick veins running up the shaft. It even had Mike's unique, slightly flared head. It was heavy in Will's hand, a solid, weighty thing that made his mouth go dry.

"Holy shit," Mike breathed, staring at it. "That's... that's me."

Will was speechless. He ran his fingers over it, marveling at the texture. It was soft, yet firm, just like the real thing. He looked up at Mike, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and barely contained lust.

The next thirty minutes were a blur of frantic preparation. Mike was insatiable, he needed to get Will ready for what was about to happen. He laid Will out on the bed and went to work on him with his mouth, his tongue, his fingers.

He stretched Will open slowly, methodically, adding more lube, more fingers, until Will was a whimpering, writhing mess. He used two fingers, then three, scissoring them, curling them, pressing against his prostate until Will was seeing stars. He used the smaller dildo again, fucking him with it while he slid two fingers beside it, bringing him to the edge and back again, until Will was begging and crying with need.

"Please, Mike, please," he sobbed, his hands fisting in the sheets. "I'm ready. I'm so ready. Please, fuck me with it."

Finally, Mike deemed him ready. He coated the replica with a generous amount of lube, the slick silicone glistening in the low light. He knelt between Will's legs, his own cock achingly hard, and pressed the tip of the clone against Will's entrance.

"Look at me," Mike commanded, his voice low and rough.

Will forced his heavy eyelids open, his gaze locking with Mike's. The intensity in Mike's eyes took his breath away.

Mike pushed the dildo in, slowly, like it was his own cock. Will's mouth fell open in a silent scream as the familiar, yet alien, shape filled him. It was Mike, but it wasn't. The stretch was incredible, a perfect, full feeling that had him trembling.

When the clone fully seated inside him, Mike paused, letting Will adjust. He watched Will's face, his chest, the way his stomach muscles clenched. Then, Mike did something that made Will's eyes roll back in his head. He gripped the base of the dildo and curved it, pressing upwards. Will looked down, and a choked moan escaped his lips.

The silhouette of the dildo was visible, pressing up against the skin of his stomach. It was a perfect, obscene outline of Mike's cock.

"Fuck," Mike breathed, his own voice awed. He traced the bulge with his finger, pressing down slightly. Will cried out, his back arching off the bed.

"You see that, baby?" Mike murmured, his eyes dark with lust. "That's my cock inside you. That's how deep I am."

Will couldn't speak. He could only nod frantically, tears of pleasure leaking from the corners of his eyes.

Mike started to move the dildo, pulling it out almost all the way, then sliding it back in, watching transfixed as the bulge in Will's stomach disappeared and reappeared with each thrust.

Will was lost. The feeling was indescribable. He was so full, it was so deep, he felt completely owned. But the thing he craved most was still missing.

"Mike," he gasped, reaching out for him. "Your fingers. Please."

Mike added two fingers alongside the dildo, the stretch immediately more intense. Will's back arched off the bed, a strangled cry tearing from his throat.

"More," he begged, his mind lost in a haze of pleasure-pain. "Please, more."

Mike added a third finger, his own breath coming in harsh pants. The sight of Will's hole stretched so impossibly wide around the toy and his fingers was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

But Will still wasn't satisfied. "Mike," he whined, his voice high and desperate. "Your cock. I need your cock. Please, I need both. I need to feel both of you inside me."

Mike felt like he might pass out from how much blood had been redirected to his cock. He pulled the dildo and his fingers out, leaving Will empty and crying out at the loss. He looked down at Will’s slightly swollen entrance, the pink rim flexing and clenching around nothing. Gathering saliva in his mouth he spat directly on Will’s hole, the greedy gape swallowing it quickly.

“Fucking hell, so hungry for it.” Mike mumbled under his breath. He lubed up his own cock, his hand shaking slightly. He positioned himself at Will's entrance, slapping his cock lightly on the rim before sinking in. Will was so loose and slick from the prep there was barely any resistance.

"This is it," he growled, his voice barely recognizable. He picked up the replica and placed it next to where his cock was fully buried. The silicone teasing them both.  "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Will sobbed. "Fuck yes, please!"

Mike pushed. The pressure was immense. He watched, mesmerized, as the head of the toy pressed down on his cock, desperately trying to make room for itself, it was carving out space that didn’t exist. When the first inch slid in, Will's hands flew to Mike's arms, his nails digging in hard enough to draw blood.

"Oh god, oh fuck, Mike, it's too much!" he cried, his body tensing up.

"You can take it," Mike gritted out, his own body trembling with the effort of holding back. With his free hand, he held Will's hip in a bruising grip, keeping him still. "You were made for this, baby. Made to take my cock. Now relax and let me in."

With one final push, the replica slid in fully next to Mike’s cock. The feeling was indescribable. For Will, it was a white-hot explosion of sensation. He was so full, so utterly and completely full, he felt like he might burst. The stretch was beyond anything he'd ever imagined, a burning, glorious agony that sent him spiraling into an immediate, shattering orgasm.

He came with a wail, his cock pulsing violently, painting his own chest with cum. His body clamped down on the two thick lengths inside him, the rhythmic contractions almost painful in their intensity.

Mike didn't stop. He couldn't. He held Will's trembling body down and started to move, his hips pumping in short, hard thrusts. The feeling was incredible, a tight, hot, vise-like grip that was milking his cock for all it was worth.

Will was sobbing now, overwhelmed by the relentless pain-pleasure. "Mike, Mike, please, it's too much, I can't—I can't—" he babbled, but his body was betraying him, his hips trying to push back against the thrusts.

"You can," Mike growled, his own control slipping. "You're going to take it. You begged for this."

He shifted his angle, and Will's eyes flew open as the two cocks pressed directly against his prostate. A broken sound escaped him, something between a moan and a whine. Drool was leaking from the corner of his mouth, his eyes were glassy and unfocused. He looked completely wrecked.

"Look at you," Mike panted, driving into him with a renewed fervor. "So fucking full of me. Your stomach is bulging even bigger, baby. Can you see it? Can you see what I'm doing to you?"

Will managed to glance down, his vision swimming. He saw it—the distinct, moving bulge low on his stomach, appearing and disappearing with each of Mike's thrusts. The sight was so obscene, so hot, it sent another, weaker orgasm tearing through him. He was just a dry, sobbing mess now, his body nothing but a vessel for pleasure.

Mike was close, his rhythm becoming erratic. He reached down and grabbed the base of the dildo, using it to fuck Will even harder, the toy moving in counterpoint to his own cock.

"Such a greedy little hole," he spat, the words degrading but full of awe. "Taking two cocks at once. You're a fucking cock slut, Will. But it's for my cock. You hear me, Will? You’re mine."

Will could only whimper in response, his head lolling to the side. He was gone, floating in a sea of sensation, his mind blank.

With a final, brutal thrust, Mike came, burying himself balls-deep inside Will. He could feel his cum pumping into the already packed space, the added girth and wetness pushing Will over the edge one last time. 

Mike held still, his chest heaving, as the last waves of his orgasm ebbed. He looked down at the sight below him and felt a primal sense of satisfaction. Will was a mess, covered in his own cum, tears and drool streaking his face, his hole stretched obscenely around Mike’s two thick cocks.

He gently pulled out, first the replica, then his own softening cock. The sound that came from Will's body was obscene—a wet, squelching pop. And then, the most incredible sight of all.

Will's hole was gaping open, a red, swollen mess. It fluttered slightly, trying to close, but it was too stretched. Slowly, a thick, white glob of Mike's cum started to leak out, running down the crack of Will's ass.

Mike stared, transfixed. Acting on pure instinct, he brought his fingers up to Will's entrance. Will whimpered, still oversensitive, as Mike gently pushed two fingers inside, feeling the hot, wet mess he'd left behind. He scooped up the leaking cum and pushed it back inside, his fingers fucking it deeper into Will's body.

"Mike..." Will whined, his body twitching.

"Shhh," Mike soothed. "Just making sure you keep all of it inside." He slid his fingers out, finally satisfied. He leaned down and pressed a soft, loving kiss to Will's sweaty forehead.

He got up, his legs a little shaky, and went to the bathroom. He came back with a warm, wet cloth and a glass of water. He cleaned Will up with gentle hands, wiping away the sweat and cum, his touch reverent. He helped Will sit up and drink some water, then tucked him into the sheets.

He slid in beside him, pulling Will's limp, exhausted body into his arms. Will immediately burrowed into his chest, his breathing already slowing.

"You did so good," Mike whispered, stroking Will's hair. "You were incredible, baby. The most incredible thing I've ever seen."

Will hummed contentedly, too tired to speak. He felt completely and utterly used, in the best possible way. He could feel the deep, delicious ache in his ass, a reminder of what they'd done, and he knew he'd be feeling it for days.

As he drifted off to sleep, cocooned in Mike's warmth and love, a single, blissful thought floated through his mind: he finally felt full.

The next morning, Will woke up to a strange sensation. He tried to move his legs, but they felt like they were made of lead. He managed to sit up, wincing at the immediate, deep ache in his lower back and between his legs.

"Oh, wow," he groaned.

Mike stirred beside him, his eyes fluttering open. He took one look at Will's face and grinned. "Sore?"

Will shot him a weak glare. "You think?"

Mike's grin widened as he sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist. He leaned over and kissed Will's shoulder. "Let me get you some water and some painkillers."

He swung his legs out of bed and stood up, stretching his long, lean body. Will couldn't help but admire the view, his own body responding with a faint twinge of interest, which was quickly quashed by the soreness.

Mike disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a glass of water and two pills. "Here, take these."

Will obeyed, swallowing them down gratefully. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Mike sat back down on the bed, his hand coming to rest on Will's thigh. "How are you feeling? Besides sore."

Will thought about it. He felt... amazing. Drained, a little tender, but deeply satisfied. "I feel... good," he said, a shy smile spreading across his face. "Really, really good."

Mike's expression softened. "Me too. That was..." He trailed off, searching for the word. "Intense."

"Yeah," Will agreed. He reached out and took Mike's hand, intertwining their fingers. "It was perfect. But, uh... maybe not an every-weekend kind of thing?"

Mike laughed, his eyes alight with genuine happiness. "Definitely not. I think I'd need a week to recover after that. But... for special occasions? I think we've found a new favorite."

Will smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Mike's lips. It was a gentle, loving kiss, a stark contrast to the night before. They were just pulling away when a loud, insistent knock echoed from the front door.

They both froze, their heads snapping towards the sound.

"Are you expecting someone?" Will whispered.

Mike shook his head, already getting out of bed and pulling on a pair of sweatpants. "Stay here. I'll get rid of them."

He padded out of the bedroom and down the short hall to the front door. He unlocked it and pulled it open, his casual greeting dying on his lips.

"What's up, nerd! The party's here!" Max's voice was loud and cheerful, and before Mike could react, she was shouldering past him into the apartment, Lucas right behind her.

"Where's the man of the hour?" she called out, already heading for the living room. "We're here to celebrate the end of midterms!"

"Max, wait," Mike said, his voice a little panicked. "It's not a good time—"

But it was too late. She'd already turned into the living room and stopped dead in her tracks. Will had managed to get out of bed and was standing in the bedroom doorway, dressed only in Mike’s shirt, it was big on him and fell to the tops of his thighs. He was leaning heavily against the doorframe for support, his hair a mess, his face flushed. He looked thoroughly, undeniably fucked out.

Max's eyes went wide, and then she burst out laughing. It was a loud, cackling laugh that filled the small apartment. "Oh my god," she wheezed, doubling over. "Will! You can't even stand! What the hell did you two do last night?!"

Will's face went from pink to a shade of red that had never been seen before. He tried to retreat back into the bedroom, but his legs chose that exact moment to give out, and he stumbled with a yelp.

Mike was there in an instant, catching him before he hit the floor. He scooped Will up into his arms, cradling him against his chest. "It's fine," he said, his voice full of false calm as he carried Will back to the bed. "He's just... a little sore."

Max was howling with laughter, tears streaming down her face. Lucas was standing in the doorway, looking a mix of horrified and amused. "Dude," he said, shaking his head at Mike. "You broke him."

Mike gently laid Will back down on the bed, tucking him in. He turned back to his friends, a sheepish grin on his face. "Okay, so maybe we got a little carried away."

"A little?" Max screeched. "He can't stand up! This is the best post-exam celebration ever. I need all the details. Right now."

Mike just shook his head, closing the bedroom door most of the way, leaving just a crack open. "No details. Go order some food. We'll be out in a bit... once my boyfriend can walk again."

He could hear Max's continued laughter as he climbed back into bed with Will, who was hiding his face under a pillow in embarrassment.

"It's not funny," Will's muffled voice said.

Mike pulled the pillow away, kissing Will's burning cheek. "It's a little funny," he admitted, his eyes full of love. "But don't worry, I'll take care of you. I'll even carry you to the couch."

Will peeked out from under his hands, his eyes still shining with mortification, but a small smile tugging at his lips. "You'd better," he mumbled, snuggling into Mike's side. "After all, this is technically your fault." He reached for Mike's pillow and, with as much dignity as he could muster, smacked Mike lightly in the chest with it.

Mike laughed, catching the pillow and tossing it aside before pulling Will closer. "Yeah," he murmured, kissing his hair. "It was. And I'll take care of you everytime."

Will decided it was the perfect end to a very stressful exam season. Even if he couldn't feel his legs.