Work Text:
The music pulses from every direction, drowning out Will's thoughts as he sits at the bar, sliding his drink around in its own condensation. He tries not to tense up as someone new plops down on his right. He flicks his eyes to the side, taking in the newcomer: buff, blonde, preppy. Will dismisses him, turning back to his drink. He's already had to turn down three guys.
Will sighs, and it's swallowed up by the bass and the blue lights.
This isn't his usual thing. His Fridays are normally spent at home, where he can be comfy in his sweats, with a favorite movie on for background noise and a sketchbook in his lap. He tries not to think of his recent conversation, the "You should go to a club, meet someone. Maybe get a little... physical."
It had felt weirdly exciting at the time, the thought of meeting a stranger in a place like this just to be... physical. It's something he's never done before, but he's entertained the thought a handful of times when he's alone and feeling desperate.
The reality though is too warm, too bright, and too fucking loud.
He wiggles a little on the uncomfortable bar stool.
At least my ass looks perfect in these jeans, he thinks with a smirk.
He's been playing with the same vodka tonic since he came in half an hour ago, barely any headway made on it. He's too amped up.
Will checks his watch. Thirty minutes is more than enough time being here, he thinks. He abandons the drink and stands up, ignoring the ache in his thighs from the hard metal of the seat. He pushes away from the packed bar, eyes scanning the bodies between him and the door, planning his escape.
Will is skirting the dance floor when he spots someone lounging by the exit. The man is tall, with dark curls and dark eyes, clothes fitting tightly over a lean frame.
Time slows down, and Will's breath catches in his throat.
Their eyes meet across the crowded room.
Will is frozen, bodies gyrating around him to the song now muffled in his ears.
The man's eyes travel Will's body, head to toe and back again. It hits Will like a physical weight. When their eyes lock again, the man smirks at him, pushing himself off the wall. He stalks toward Will, all lean muscle and predatory intent.
Will still hasn't moved.
The song changes, synth beat pulsing through the floor as the man reaches Will. He makes a grab for Will's waist, his large hands spanning Will's sides. Will lets him, butterflies dancing under his ribcage.
The man leans in to be heard over the music and Will can smell a sweet, musky cologne, sweat, and something else, something familiar.
"Hi," the man murmurs. Will shivers.
"H-hi," Will stutters back. The man chuckles, tightening his hold on Will.
"I'm Mike."
Mike moves his hands against Will's waist, swaying them to the beat. Will trails his hands up Mike's sleeves to rest on Mike's shoulders. He turns his head, finding Mike's ear.
"Will," he tells him.
"Nice to meet you, Will."
Will is burning from the inside, and he clutches Mike's shoulders.
"You too," Will says.
Mike pulls his head back to watch Will, their bodies half a beat off-kilter to the music. They stay like that for a few minutes, eyes taking each other in as the lights flash and change around them. Mike looks unfairly hot in loose jeans and a thin cobalt blue henley, his curls dipping towards his collar.
Mike brings his head back down to Will's ear, breath warm against his neck. Will's heart thuds hard in his chest.
"What brings you here, Will?"
Oh you, know, he thinks of saying, hoping for the chance to get fucked by a stranger.
"Just... expanding my horizons, I guess."
"Yeah?" Mike's hands blaze a trail to the hem of Will's shirt, fingers inching beneath the fabric. Mike traces patterns along Will's bare back. Will's breath stutters. He's half hard already.
"What kind of... horizons?"
Feeling bold, Will moves his hands into Mike's hair and lightly tugs. Mike's head falls back immediately, his hips thrusting against Will's as if he can't help it. Mike is achingly hard already against Will's thigh.
Encouraged, Will stands on the balls of his feet, bringing his lips to Mike's neck. He licks a stripe onto the smooth skin there, places his lips at the juncture between neck and collarbone and nibbles.
Mike's hold tightens as his hips rut into Will's thigh, once, twice. "Jesus."
It's a hiss, a plea, a prayer.
Mike brings a hand to Will's face to pull him off his neck. Before Will can feel the disappointment crash through him, Mike's lips are on his, wet and desperate.
Startled, Will opens his mouth. Mike takes advantage immediately, sliding his tongue in, running it over Will's. It's sloppy and hurried and Will has never been so turned on in his life.
He's not sure what the people around them are making of their indecent display; Will has never done anything like this in public before. He knows in general that it's safe here, in a club catering to people like him, like them; he's watched more than a few couples locking lips on the dance floor and in corners, even in just the short time he's been here.
He never thought he'd be one for that.
Mike has proven him wrong.
The song changes again, and the people around them howl like a Greek chorus to the lyrics. Mike pulls back from Will. His lips are scarlet, eyes frenzied.
"Come with me," Mike shouts over the din, and then he's tugging Will by the hand to the back of the club. The difference in temperature is immediate, cool air rushing under the gaps in Will's t-shirt providing a relief so potent that Will feels lightheaded.
Mike still has hold of his Will's hand as he starts trying handles down the corridor. Will tries hard to hide his amusement, people around them either giggling or oblivious to Mike's obvious frustration.
Finally, down a second hallway devoid of patrons, Mike finds a single-use bathroom unlocked and unoccupied, flipping on the lights. It's surprisingly large, with a toilet on one end, and a white "marble" vanity on the other, sink set along the right side rather than the middle. The mirror behind the vanity is almost comically large, running all three feet of it, and all the way up to the ceiling. The wall is painted in geometric patterns, washed out greens and pinks and blues over eggshell white. Glow-in-the-dark, probably.
Will laughs, startled, as Mike hauls him bodily in and twists the lock.
Mike crowds Will against the door, arms bracketing either side of his head. The taller man looms down into Will's space, eyes heated.
"Where were we?" Mike asks, eyes raking over Will in the light.
"Maybe... here?"
Will slides his hands up Mike's chest, feeling his way over firm pectorals and strong shoulders, lets his fingers drift up over Mike's neck to pull him down.
Mike hums in satisfaction as their lips meet again and moves his hands from the door. One hand going to Will's thigh to hike it over his hip, and the other to Will's waist. Mike snakes his way under the fabric to stroke the bare skin of Will's ribs. He taps short and long patterns onto Will's skin, but Will's obviously too busy to try and decipher them.
Will presses harder against Mike, moves his hands into the other's hair again. Mike breaks away from the kiss, breath stuttering as Will scrapes his nails over Mike's scalp methodically, backwards and forwards, temple to neck. Mike's breathing grows heavier, eyelids hooded.
Will pauses for a moment, absorbing the way Mike is so responsive to his touch, lets it curl through him with deep-seated satisfaction.
And then Will yanks on Mike's curls, tipping his head back and exposing his neck. The sound Mike makes is unholy, something gutteral and groaning that goes straight to Will's dick.
Some possessive monster inside Will flares to life at the sound — he moves to suck a bruise onto the pale skin of Mike's neck, laving it with his tongue once the skin turns the color of wine, and then moving just inches to the left to repeat the process. He waits until his teeth are over Mike's collarbone to tug on those soft curls one more time.
Mike gasps, rocking his hips against Will's thigh before wrestling his head free. He attacks Will's mouth like a man starved. Will kisses back just as forcefully, losing himself to the taste of Mike's mouth.
Mike's lips migrate south, over Will's chin and jaw and neck. They hover over Will's pulse point.
Teeth drag over his skin and Will groans, throwing his head back —
— hard, against the door.
"Ow."
Mike detaches his mouth with a wet plop.
"Shit, are you okay?"
Will brings a hand to the back of his head, checks for blood. Finds none.
Probably fine, all things considered.
"Oh, you know. Just some mild embarrassment. A bit of light brain damage, maybe."
Mike puts his forehead against Will's collarbone. His shoulders start to shake.
Will feels a blush creeping up his face and playfully shoves Mike's shoulder with his free hand.
"Don't laugh," he groans. "You're not allowed to laugh."
Mike is doing his best to contain himself, but his eyes are sparkling as he looks up at Will again.
"Start over?" Mike offers magnanimously.
With a deep breath, Will nods.
Mike positions Will's hands back onto his shoulders, dropping his own to Will's hips. Mike trails his mouth down Will's throat again, but more contained this time, almost lazy.
He walks them both back to the sink on the far left of the door. Mike pauses his ministrations to scoop Will up by the backs of his thighs and hefts him onto the faux-marble vanity like it's nothing.
"That's so fucking hot," Will admits against Mike's ear. Will feels Mike grin before he nips at the edge of Will's jaw, moving his hands to the back of Will's knees and yanking their hips to grind together. His mouth moves further down to lick and suck at Will's sensitive throat.
"Mirror's further back than the door," Mike says between hickeys. "Probably safe enough, Danger Magnet."
Will scoffs, rolling his eyes. He retaliates by moving his hands back to Mike's hair and lightly tugging.
Mike pouts adorably, and Will captures his lips again to smooth it out. It turns heated again, and soon enough, Mike is pawing at the front of Will's jeans.
"Can I?"
Will nods. He grips the front edge of the vanity, fighting nervousness as Mike undoes the button, pulls down the zipper.
Mikes breath hitches.
"Oh god, are these lace panties?" Mike runs a finger under the white lace trim, light enough that it almost tickles. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth.
"You like them?" Will asks shyly. He'd found them on sale a few weeks ago and had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to wear them. The lace is surprisingly soft, making up the bulk of the band and crotch, the back made from some kind of stretch satin.
Mike's eyes, dazed and intense, find Will's. Will's cock twitches at the look. Mike draws his fingertips over the dampening front of the panties and Will lifts his hips to chase the sensation.
"I love them."
Mike dips his head down to Will's lap and slips his tongue behind the top of the white lace. Will works his hands through Mike's hair as he teases Will, ignoring his cock and pushing his jeans down an inch further. Mike pulls back just enough to take in the full picture of Will, pupils dilating.
"So pretty," Mike sighs. Will sucks in a breath.
Pretty, Will thinks. Prettyprettypretty.
Will wants to drop to his knees and run his face across Mike's lap, wants to pull out his cock and drool on it, gag on it.
It's such a potent idea that Will reaches out to tug on Mike's belt, insistent, hoping to pull him up and switch places.
Mike gently catches Will's hands and gives him a questioning look.
"Wanna —" Will blushes, forcing himself to complete the thought. "—wanna put my mouth on you."
Mike twines their fingers together like it's second nature. Will fights to not let it distract him from what he wants. Squeezes Mike's hands anyway.
"Hmm," Mike considers. "I think I like where I'm at, actually."
Will blinks at him.
"You're... turning down a blowjob?"
Mike rocks back on his heels. Shrugs.
Suspicion zips through Will. He frowns.
"Why?"
"Well, someone once accused me of being a 'service top.'"
Don't laugh, don't laugh, Will tells himself. He takes a deep breath to keep it behind his teeth. Of course Mike notices anyway. Will waits to see if Mike calls him out on it. Instead, Mike is serious.
"This is about you, Will." Mike disentangles their hands, lets his rest on Will's thighs.
Will searches Mike's face for any breaks, squinting. He decides to be a little bratty. He is entitled, after all.
"And sucking your cock can't be about me?"
Mike kneads at Will's thighs roughly. He shrugs when he says, "I just figured you'd want me to fuck your tight little hole until you cry."
Will's hips give an involuntary jerk.
Mike looks far too pleased with himself at that.
"Okay," Will says. "Yeah. Sure, yeah."
"Good. Now —" Mike yanks Will by his jeans, and Will stumbles off the vanity. "—pull these down."
Following instructions doesn't work though, because Mike refuses to let Will tug them all the way down. Instead, Mike takes over, jiggling the denim down, just under Will's plump ass and below his aching length, stopping mid thigh.
Will tries not to think of how gross the counter probably is, or how gross the bathroom in general is as Mike flips Will, positioning him to lay with his front against the counter, arms spread out.
Will catches sight of himself in the mirror, takes in his swollen lips and mussed hair, his eyes bright with excitement. Behind him, Mike's reflection kneels on the floor and massages Will's ass over his underwear. Mike slips his fingers just under the edges, teasing, pulling Will's cheeks apart and then letting them rest back together.
Will feels himself leaking pre-cum into the front of the panties. He tries to rub against the edge of the counter, but Mike pulls him back just far enough that he can't, spreading him again.
Will tries to catch Mike's eyes through the glass to accuse him of being a fucking tease when Mike puts his tongue over Will's hole through the satin.
Will cries out, clutching the side edges of the sink. Dark eyes reflect back at him hungrily as Mike moves to nuzzle against Will's ass, dragging his teeth back and forth and gripping thick flesh. Mike alternates between this and using his tongue, makes a game of it: teeth, tongue, spread, release.
It goes on for what seems like hours. Will presses his ass into Mike's face wantonly.
"Please," Will groans.
Mike lifts his head to make eye contact through the mirror.
"Please what?" he says with infuriating calm.
Eyebrows drawn in a frown, Will wiggles his ass to get the point across. Mike stills him between his large palms. He raises his own eyebrow back at Will.
For some reason, this is what embarrasses Will. Asking for what he wants with actual words, putting it into the ether. Will's skin prickles between his shoulders in frustration, and he squirms against Mike's hold.
Like he can sense that unnameable thing in Will, Mike bites the plush muscle of Will's backside, breaking him out of that headspace.
"Fingers!" Will practically shouts.
Mike kisses the bite, runs a thumb over it too for good measure. He pulls himself up from the floor, watching Will's face as he carefully tugs the panties down over the top of the jeans, freeing Will's messy cock from its delicate confines.
Will whimpers at the sudden exposure.
Mike keeps both eyes on Will as he pulls a rectangular foil packet from the pocket of his jeans.
"Brought lube to the club, huh?" Will pants. "Little presumptuous, isn't it?"
Mike smacks Will's bare ass, and Will gasps.
"Oh, you know," Mike says casually as he tears the packet open and spreads a generous dollop over three fingers. "Had high hopes to expand my own horizons tonight."
Will swallows thickly as Mike's lubricated pointer finger circles that tight ring of muscle, lightly dipping in before pulling back out. Will hisses, and Mike uses his other hand to rub soothingly up and down at the base of Will's spine.
"Hey, hey," Mike tells him softly. "I've got you."
Will's body responds immediately to those words as if he's biologically primed to, going pliant. Mike's next sweep of fingers allows him deeper, and Will moans.
"Yeah?" Mike asks.
"Uh huh!"
Mike works into Will gently until he's one knuckle in, two, the whole finger. Will grinds against nothing while Mike starts working in a second long finger, carefully scissoring Will open.
By the time Mike has made it to the third finger, some pathetic and needy noise is echoing through the bathroom, timed to the squelching of Mike's fingers fucking into Will's ass. Mike's other hand is making a circuit through Will's hair, over his shoulders, and over his throat.
It takes Will a few tries to realize Mike has been asking him something. Will forces himself to focus, a slurred "Huh?" the only word he remembers.
Will raises his eyes to Mike's in the mirror. Mike is bent over Will in a way that reminds Will of Renaissance art, bold colors and soft angles and soulful eyes.
Mike's smile is almost evil.
"I said —" He curls his fingers inside Will, and Will struggles to stay conscious but definitely not quiet. "— are you ready for me to put on the condom?"
"N-no."
"No?" Mike feigns surprise. "You want me to just keep fucking you with my fingers, Will?"
Somehow Mike manages to push in deeper, twisting all three fingers and taking more of Will's braincells with the motion.
"Will?"
Will forces himself present to spit out, "No, no condom."
"No condom?" Mike sounds almost mocking, mean. Will tightens around Mike's fingers at the tone. "You want that?"
The hand that had been petting Will comes to rest across Will's throat, splayed, not squeezing. Just holding. He tilts Will's head back up to look at them both in the mirror. "You'd let a stranger bareback you in the club bathroom?"
"Just you, Mike," Will gasps.
Mike moans, burying his face in Will's shoulder. Will thinks he hears Fuck, Will. Mike's fingers piston in and out faster now. Will whines, arching back into it.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mike grinds his clothed dick against Will's bare ass cheek.
"Mike, please!"
Mike gasps. In the mirror, Will can see Mike's blown pupils and the flush rising up his face. He looks wrecked.
"Please what?" Mike's voice is gravelly.
"Please f-fuck me!"
"Anything for you, baby." Mike pulls his fingers out slowly, and Will nearly cries at how empty he feels now.
Mike shushes him, and Will watches through the mirror as Mike rushes to undo his belt buckle, mindful of his messy hand. Will squirms waiting for Mike to pull down his jeans and boxers.
Will catches a glimpse of Mike's cock as he pulls it out and Will makes a broken sound.
"It's so big." Saliva pools heavily in Will's mouth, threatening to spill out.
Mike takes himself in hand and lightly smacks Will's ass with his dick.
"Think you can take it?" Mike asks.
Will leans his body flush on the vanity, no longer caring how gross it might be.
"I can take it," he promises, "I can take the whole thing, please, Mike!"
Mike is practically panting as he grabs the packet of lube again, hand shakey. Will grabs the edges of the counter as Mike, now slicked up, rubs his cock between Will's cheeks, teasing back and forth, avoiding his hole.
"Mike," Will hisses.
Mike looks up grinning like a devil through the glass and pushes in sloooowly before rocking back and pushing forward again. Will is sucking in breath after breath, needing to be filled nownownow.
Will arches his back, a silent plea to hurry the fuck up. Mike latches onto Will's hips under his jeans and slams the rest of the way in, bottoming out.
Will throws his head back, keening.
"Yes!"
Mike's pace is punishing after that, dragging himself almost all the way out just to slam back in. Will is lost in the sensation, trying to meet Mike as just as hard as he shoves his ass back against him.
Mike runs his clean hand through Will's hair, grabbing it by the roots and forcing Will to look up into the mirror.
Will is cock-drunk, tears streaming from glassy eyes, a sliver of drool mixing with salt at the corner of his mouth.
"Look at you," Mike growls, hips flush against Will's before yanking back again. "Taking my cock so well, crying for me, fucking drooling. God, you're perfect. Gonna fill you up, make you mine."
Will has never heard anything better in his life. He manages a small nod around the hand in his hair.
"Yours, yours!" Will gurgles.
Mike moves his mouth to Will's neck, licking against the hickey already blooming from earlier before sucking at the same spot again. At the same time, Mike changes his angle upwards just slightly, hitting that small bundle of nerves inside Will.
Will's scream is hoarse, his vision going white around the edges.
The light in the bathroom flickers, buzzes, matching Mike's pace fucking into Will.
From somewhere in the very back of his awareness, Will catches the overly satisfied look on Mike's face as he pulls off Will's throat, a long string of saliva connecting them before snapping against Will's collar.
A familiar pickle starts at the base of Will's spine as Mike continues to hit that sweet spot, thrusting-thrusting-thrusting. Mike's lube hand reaches around Will to fist his leaking dick. There's enough pre-cum to slick Will almost completely.
Will is nearly sobbing now; it's a miracle he can see anything at all past the tears streaming down his face.
"I'm s-so close, Mike, please, please—" Will begs.
Mike brings his other hand back to Will's throat, grip soft as he massages Will's pulse.
"The second you cum around my cock," Mike whispers in his ear, "I'm gonna fill you up so good the lights blow out."
That knowledge is what sends Will over the edge, breathless as his orgasm tears through him, relentless and all-consuming; his cum paints the vanity cabinet and Mike's fist as the fluorescent light dies overhead but doesn't actually break. The glow-in-the-dark paint along the walls acts as a weak, secondary light source.
Will all but collapses along the faux marble as Mike fucks into him one, two, three more times before cumming himself, fulfilling his promise to fill Will up. Mike drapes himself over Will's back, forearms on the counter to keep from crushing Will completely.
They're both taking stuttering breaths when Mike carefully pulls out. Will manages to scoot over, giving Mike space to lean back against the vanity on his elbows for a moment. Will shivers at the feeling of cum cooling against his front and leaking from his ass. His face feels tight from the tears still drying.
"Oh shit, hang on," Mike tells him before stumbling several steps to the left to grab an unnecessary amount of paper towels. Will doesn't bother to take them, trusting Mike to clean his back and front. It's not the softest material, but it works well enough.
Only once Mike is done cleaning Will does he bother to clean himself and make an attempt at the cabinet. They both wash their hands before pulling clothes back into place. Will's panties are damp in several places, mainly along the back. Will bites his lip.
Mike's cum is making my panties stick to my ass.
Will can feel himself getting hard again.
He leans his hip into the edge of the sink to tamp that down for now. Mike swings himself up onto the counter, his thigh brushing Will's hip.
The light from the paint is dimming already, but Will can still see Mike's self-satisfied grin. Will fights back a grin of his own. Loses.
"So," Will says.
"So," Mike replies.
"Light didn't actually break," Will points out.
Mike groans.
"You would point that out."
"Oh I'm sorry, I was promised to be filled up so good the lights blow out."
"And they went out!" Mike gestures to the ceiling.
"But did they blow out, Michael?"
Mike makes an indignant noise, face screwed up.
Will laughs, brushing their elbows together.
"Also, not to dock points —"
"Oh, here we go." Mike scoffs, but grins anyway.
"— but it was out of character."
"Oh my god, Will, come on," Mike whines.
"Hey, you're the one who promised total immersion!"
Mike crosses his arms, rolling his eyes playfully.
Will's legs are still shakey, but he maneuvers himself between Mike's legs. From this angle, they're almost the same height. Will rests his hands on Mike's thighs, rubbing up and down, more to comfort than entice, though Will wouldn't mind another round somewhere cleaner. And with more light.
He brings his forehead to Mike's, uses his own head to try and move the damp curls to the side. He ends up nudging Mike's nose more than anything.
Mike's eyes go all crinkly, and he nudges Will's nose back.
"I loved it, you know," Will breathes.
Will runs his hands up Mike's thighs to the hem of his shirt, tugging Mike closer. Mike's hands go to Will's waist, thumbs brushing back and forth in comfort.
"Yeah?" Mike murmurs back.
"Yeah."
Will closes the remaining distance between them. This kiss is deep but unhurried, one of thousands and hundreds of thousands they've shared before it.
The last remaining light in the bathroom is nearly gone before they disentangle themselves. Mike swings down from the sink, leading the way out.
Even though it doesn't matter at this point, Mike checks that the hallway is clear before signaling Will out with him.
They lace their fingers together as they take their time, following signs down for the back exit.
Will glances at Mike. Mike is already looking, and Will smiles. Mike squeezes Will's hand, eyes searching his face.
"What are you thinking about?" Mike asks.
"That I need the hottest shower known to mankind."
"That shower gonna have room for one more?" Mike waggles his eyebrows. Will shoves Mike's shoulder playfully with his free hand.
"Dork. And obviously yes."
Mike brings their joined hands to his lips, kissing Will's knuckles. Will melts, leaning his head on Mike's shoulder.
The late March wind steals through the door as soon as Mike pushes it open, flinging it back against the side of the building.
"Shit!" Mike drops Will's hand to grab for the industrial metal door. Despite having put on some muscle in the last few years, Mike still struggles.
Will laughs at the way Mike hikes a leg on the side of the building for leverage.
"I don't see you helping, O Great Sorceror!" Mike yells over the gust, turning to give Will a look.
Will rolls his eyes and motions for Mike to move, bringing his other hand up. Mike steps back, letting Will telekinetically shut the door.
Will instinctively goes to wipe his nose, still not used to the lack of blood even years later.
Mike rejoins him, slinging his arm around Will's waist and kissing the side of head.
"Anything else for the birthday boy?"
"Technically my birthday isn't for another —" Will checks his watch. "—hour and fourty-two minutes."
"Still! Pretty sure the Chinese place is still open."
"Ooh, I like that idea."
They make their way back from the side street behind the club, and Mike's hand makes a detour to Will's ass just before stepping into the more populated area of downtown Manhattan. Even though he's expecting it, Will still jumps when Mike squeezes.
"Your ass really is perfect in those jeans, though, by the way."