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Will twists and turns in front of the full length mirror in his bedroom, admiring the outfit he's chosen for himself. Blue button-up under a brown leather jacket, matching brown leather belt over acid wash jeans, black high-tops, and silver star earrings along his right ear that match the silver charm necklace resting below his throat.
He's been absolutely dying to wear these new jeans, knows Max is going to squeal with envy when she sees them; they hug his ass so perfectly, and sit low enough for just a peek of white lace from his fresh panties.
Will's heart races knowing what Mike's reaction will be.
As he passes his desk to turn off the light, Will pauses, considering. He hesitates for a moment before peeling off his scent patches, tossing them into the mini trash can by the door.
Mike is on the couch with a notebook when Will walks out, pen tapping against paper. The alpha is still dressed in his jeans, but he's changed into one of Will's band tees, the fit too tight against Mike's broad chest. Will stares at the faded shirt, something dark and possessive squirming under his skin.
"Where are you going?"
Will's trance is broken. He bites his lip at Mike's tone, eyes searching their apartment for an excuse to linger. Will starts meandering into their cheery little kitchen with its yellow cabinets and plants along the windowsill. He makes a small loop around the kitchen island before hovering on the space where the rooms merge.
"Max invited me out with her and Jane, remember?" Will asks innocently. "You told me it was fine three days ago."
"You changed your clothes," Mike accuses, neither confirming nor denying Will's words. Will had loved the outfit Mike dressed him in this morning — the soft, oversized buttercream sweater and tan corduroy pants over brown suede Doc Martens. The sweater had even smelled like Mike, as if Mike had taken the time to run every inch against his scent glands. An added measure.
But Will was allowed to pick his own outfit for Girls' Night, and Will had bought these jeans weeks ago! Mike had yet to let him wear them anywhere.
Mike's look when Will came out of the dressing room still makes Will's pussy throb.
Will backs up instinctively as Mike stands quickly from the couch, using his larger frame to crowd Will against the kitchen island. Will looks up shyly from under his lashes, Mike's alpha pheromones spiking.
"Y-yeah," Will's heart pounds, his own dessert-sweet pheromones flooding between them in supplication. "I just really wanted to show the girls my new jeans."
Mike hums, bringing his nose to Will's neck and inhaling, seeking his own, now muted, scent. Without warning, Mike licks a long stripe against Will's unmarked scent gland, tongue catching against the chain of Will's necklace. Will gasps, clenching his thighs tight. Mike presses their cheeks together, rubbing against the omega's face.
"And why are your patches gone?" Mike asks quietly, voice on the edge of a growl.
Mike knows Will well enough to tell when he's lying, so Will delivers a half truth.
"I don't normally wear them this late. You know they make me my glands itchy."
"Sure," Mike agrees easily, pulling back. Before Will can breathe a sigh of relief, Mike's eyes turn dark.
"You know the drill. On your back."
Mike uses two fingers to push against Will's chest. Will doesn't bother to fight it, dipping his top half back against the kitchen island and pulling his shirt up to his ribs. He wiggles, trying to find a comfortable way to lay against the hard tile. He eyes a pattern in the ceiling he's never seen before, careful not to give away how much he craves this.
Normally they do this in Will's bed or on the couch; it's been Mike's way of protecting Will since they moved in together freshman year of college. I can't always be there, Will, Mike had told him, eyes puppydog wide. But this will keep you safe from alphas with bad intentions.
The sound of Mike undoing his belt buckle cracks through the kitchen. Will's breath catches, vanilla scent sweetening; he can already feel the slick gathering in his panties.
Will's fingers grip the edges of the island as Mike moves to Will's own belt and jeans, torturously slow in undoing them. There's a short struggle as Mike tries to tug the jeans over Will's plump ass, and Will does his best not to giggle at the sensation. He'd had to hop into the denim to even get them on, so it's no surprise they take as much force to tug down around Will's thighs.
Will doesn't feel like laughing anymore when Mike peels the lace panties down atop the jeans, a string of slick connecting him to the lace before it snaps.
Mike clicks his tongue.
Eyes on me.
Will's empty hole clenches at the sound, and he scrambles to obey, propping himself on his forearms.
Mike's eyes are on Will's as he strokes one hand over his long, thick cock, the other coming to rest over Will's tummy. He presses his palm against the blue jeweled belly button ring, pinning the omega in place.
Mike starts jerking himself slowly, circling closer and closer to Will's cunt, predator's eyes cataloging Will's every reaction. Will tries to open his legs wider, but the jeans have no more give to them. It almost makes him want to cry.
Finally, finally, Mike brings the head of his cock to Will's wet folds. Will slicks more immediately, coating Mike's hand and cock as Mike slides himself along.
Mike tuts when Will breaks eye contact to throw his head back. Mike pulls away completely, clicking his tongue again in warning.
Will's hips jerk up automatically, seeking friction again. He brings his eyes back to Mike's. There's an agitated tightness around Mike's eyes, but the corner of his mouth is quirked up despite that. Mike's feeling playful.
Fortunately, Will loves this game.
"Miiiike," Will whines. It goes against his instinct to remain still when his alpha's cock is right there.
"Behave." Mike emphasizes this by smacking his hand against Will's pussy, slick making a lewd, wet sound as it splatters. Will moans, barely remembering where his eyes need to be.
"But you already marked me this morning."
The words have their intended effect.
"And now I'm doing it again," Mike growls. The tip of his cock is back to rubbing against Will's pussy, catching the clit on the drag upwards. "Better watch that smart mouth. I don't have to touch you to do this."
Will swallows a bratty retort before Mike's good mood evaporates.
"Yes, alpha," Will murmurs.
"That's right, good girl," Mike coos, bumping against Will's clit again and again and again. Will can feel his orgasm building, tummy clenching just under the massive hand holding him down. Will takes a shakey breath, orgasm sneaking closer.
"I'm just looking out for you, Will," Mike says in that quiet voice reserved only for Will. "You're my best friend. You wouldn't want some asshole alpha to take advantage of you, right?"
"N-nuh uh," the omega whines.
Mike speeds up, dipping back in to swirl slick against Will's clit. The sound is absolutely obscene. The room is drenched in the combined smell of vanilla and oakmoss, and Will is drunk on it.
He shifts to get a better look between them and sees the knot swelling at the base of Mike's cock.
Want your knot, alpha, he barely stops himself from saying, his inner omega trying to override his brain-to-mouth filter.
Mike and Will aren't like that, Will tries to remind his hindbrain. They aren't courting, they aren't boyfriends, and they definitely aren't mates. They're friends. They're. Friends.
And Mike is a good alpha taking care of his unmated omega best friend. Such a good alpha.
Alpha, that inner voice croons. Alpha, alpha!
"Alpha, please," Will cries. "I wan' it, I wannit!"
"You can have it, baby." Mike drills against Will's clit until it's almost too much —
Will's pussy clenches around nothing as he cums, a high, slutty whine filling the room.
"That's right, princess," Mike pants. He gives three final jerks before hot cum spills over Will's clit and folds, dripping into his cute little panties. Mike rubs his still spurting cock all along Will's seam, careful to keep from dripping into the jeans as he milks himself.
When he's done, Mike lets himself hang, still half-hard, his knot inflated. The thumb over Will's belly button drags against the aquamarine stone in thought.
"Did you take your pill today, baby?"
Will lifts his head to look at Mike; his body is shaking in the comedown, arms still propping him up.
Will forces himself to think, to remember what Mike is talking about.
Birth control. Right.
"Y-yeah," Will replies brokenly. "Took it. Y-you always make sure I do."
Mike's lips curl in consideration, his eyes sweeping over Will's exposed stomach as his free hand settles between the panties and Will's leaking pussy.
"Can't have my baby getting knocked up before he's even taken his first knot, can I?"
Will grips the edges of the island as Mike swirls his fingers into the mess of his slick-covered cum — and shoves two long fingers into Will to finger-fuck him.
Will drops fully onto the counter hard, any pain overridden by the brutal pace of Mike thrusting in and out, his thumb working over Will's clit. They've never done this before, the fingering. Usually Mike marks him, lets Will cum as he does (when Will is being good and not being punished), and that's the end of it.
Will goes hot all over. He's desperate to know what this change means.
First knot, he said first knot, Will thinks in pieces. Will is still a virgin. Maybe Mike wants...?
But then Mike adds a third finger and changes his angle, and it's all Will can do to stay coherent as his body is thrust against the counter over and over.
One of Will's hands shoots out to clutch at the alpha's wrist against his stomach.
"Too much?" Mike asks sweetly.
Will can feel tears spilling from the corners of his eyes.
Too much, too much — what do those words even mean? Will doesn't know; the only word that matters right now is—
"MikeMikeMike!"
"Yeah, sweetheart," Mike praises. "Let daddy make you feel good before you go have fun with the girls."
"Yesyesyesyes!"
"Fuck, so tight," Mike groans.
Will cums again hard at Mike's words, clenching around his fingers. Will wishes it was Mike's cock instead.
A hand is suddenly around Will's throat, tugging him upright. Will blinks drunkenly, hips thrusting against Mike's hand as the alpha yanks his fingers from Will.
Mike holds the dripping fingers and thumb up to Will's mouth, eyebrow raised expectantly. Even hazey, Will automatically opens his lips to suck them down to the root. He works his tongue over each knuckle, mindful to also clean in between the webbing of Mike's fingers.
Mike gives Will's throat an affectionate squeeze before letting go. Will almost begs Mike to put it back, to squeeze tighter, as Mike carefully tugs Will's panties and jeans back into place and re-buckles his belt. The cum-infused-slick sits lukewarm against Will's cunt like a promise.
The alpha takes a step back to let Will push off the island shakily while he pulls up his own pants. There's a dull pain starting in Will's lower back and against the back of his head, but it's muted by the pulsing throb of post-orgasm bliss.
Once he's done with his belt, Mike reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. His thumb flips through bills, one, two, three, four, five, and fuck, that shouldn't be as hot as it is. Will feels more slick gathering against his already drenched lace.
Mike gently deposits a hundred dollars in twenties into Will's hands, curling the omega's fingers over them gently.
"Make sure you and the girls get something to eat too, okay, baby? My treat for being so good."
Will shivers.
"Thank you, daddy," he whispers.
Mike beams at him, bringing his lips to Will's forehead. He pulls back, but his gaze catches on Will's necklace, now hanging over the collar of his botton-up. Mike brings a long fingered hand up to play with the silver disk, thumb tracing lightly over the engraved M.
It feels like Mike has reached into Will's chest to trace the initial there, too.
"Curfew is twelve-fifteen," he reminds Will roughly before letting go.
Will nods, watching as Mike leans against the back of the couch, arms crossed.
"Call for anything, okay, babygirl? I'll be waiting up for you."
Will licks his lips. Mike's eyes track the motion intently, shoulders bunching as if ready to pounce. The air in the room turns thick, like the air before a thunderstorm. Will's omega instincts beg him to run so Mike will chase and take and knot.
More slick slides into Will's undewear; at this rate, his new jeans are going to be soaked through by the time he meets with Max and Jane.
"Yes, alpha."
Mike's lips part, but whatever he's going to say stays buried. His eyes are dark as he tilts his head at the front door, and Will blindly grabs for his keys on the accent table, fumbling his way out into the hall.
Will takes a gulping breath against the closed door, certain Mike can hear it.
As he stumbles carefully down the stairs, hand clutching the railing, the alpha from 209 comes jogging up. Carlton raises an excited hand in greeting as he and Will pass —
—and Carlton immediately recoils against the far wall of the stairwell, scent turning sour in fear.
"Holy shit, dude," he mumbles up the last of the steps, frantic to be anywhere else.
Will blushes, steps calmer, steadier, as he descends. Warmth blooms in his chest, spreading outward like flowers toward the sun.
Will's alpha is so good to him.