The Usage Of Tentacles In Stranger Things Is So Graphic Lol Like 🤨 I Know What U Are, Bro(s)......

the usage of tentacles in stranger things is so graphic lol like 🤨 i know what u are, bro(s)......

More Posts from Toomuchswagonme and Others

1 year ago

"Mike...Mike! I don't want to be wearing turtlenecks for the next week. Its Summer," Will said as Mike kissed his neck.

"You look good in turtlenecks," Mike mumbled, pulling away.

Will smiled at him. "I'd melt in a turtleneck."

"You'd be my adorable gooey puddle of Will the Wise," Mike said, leaning closer to pepper Will's face with kisses.

"Eww gross. I'd rather not be a puddle of gooey me," Will laughed.

"You forgot the adorable in that sentence," Mike said with a grin.

Will took Mike's hand in his and kissed it. "No, you're adorable."

"No, you."

Will shook his head, "Nope, you're definitely more adorable."

Mike looked at their hands and his heart fluttered. "What if we're both the most adorable. More than everyone else."

Will nodded excitedly. "Yes! We are the most adorable in all of the land!"

He leaned in to kiss Mike, but Mike lunged at him and gave him a giant hug. "Hugs first," he said, "kissing later." And he squeezed Will, who smiled into his shoulder.


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2 years ago
🥰

🥰

This Is Probably My Favorite Picture Of Mike And Will

This is probably my favorite picture of Mike and will <3

Reblog with ur fav pic of them !!

2 years ago

His new description is actually a serve like it kinda gagged me ngl.

His New Description Is Actually A Serve Like It Kinda Gagged Me Ngl.

"Award-winning Actor" hell yeah dude!! "Entrepreneur" I know that's right!! "Student" as you should!!

2 years ago
Actually, To Me It's Not Cool Until You Finally Confess You're In Love.
Actually, To Me It's Not Cool Until You Finally Confess You're In Love.

actually, to me it's not cool until you finally confess you're in love.


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1 year ago

here’s a small fic i wrote ig

Hopeless. 

Mike stared at the boy laying on his chest, who was doodling a forest. He watched his meticulous pencil strokes skid across the page, shocked at how Will managed to create masterpieces with the simplicity of some graphite. Will’s head is right next to his, focused on his work, sticking out his tongue. It drives Mike crazy. He is hopeless. 

Will smells like lemons and cinnamon. A smell that lingered whenever Mike decided they would “borrow” his sweater. Then Will would roll his eyes, and tell him that maybe he should return the other ones, but there is no malice in his words. In fact, it’s the opposite. Will’s voice is a sweet syrup that cures the ugliest of Mike moods. A syrup that, when Mike isn’t cautious, causes a lump to form in their throat, and their face to warm up. 

They sat in a comfortable silence, until Will’s hand got crammed up forcing him to set down his hard work for a couple seconds. Mike grabs his hands, and kisses them. This made Will get flustered, like he does every time this happened, which was always. However, it only worsens whenever Will realizes Mike is watching him with awe. An adoration adorns his eyes like flowers decorate a field or lights decorate a tree. They are filled with a joy brighter than the sun, and more intense than moonlight, and all of his attention was dedicated to a boy he met on a set of swings years ago.

Mike closes the distance between them, giving Will a short and sweet kiss. 

“What are you thinking about” Will asks

“How much I like your sweater” Mike replies, as Will rolls his eyes.

As little as Will wanted to admit it, he liked taking Mike’s sweaters almost as much as Mike liked taking his. They smell like peppermint and laundry detergent. They smelled like home, they smelled like Mike. 

“I would use one of my sweaters” he teased “if my boyfriend didn’t steal all of mine”

Mike smiled, kissing him again.

People sometimes look at Mike as if he is complex. Incomprehensible. He hates it. He hates how alone they feel because then he’s stuck with all the emotions they don’t understand, creating a fire of hatred that has accumulated over the years by comparing these emotions to the ones their parents expected of them. However, Will always seemed to understand. He would look at Mike once, and hold his hand calming the avalanche in his brain. 

The truth is his emotions are not that complex. His love is a 4 letter word who has been around before he knew what love is. A word that possesses all the beauty in the world, and all of the happiness Mike had. A word that has all of Mike’s good memories, and was there when things were rough. His love sat in a river made of galaxies, giving his love moles to cover the stars he had.

I love Will Byers, he thought to himself I’ve loved him since the moment I saw him alone on the swings, but now i’m in love with Will Byers and I don’t know when that happened


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1 year ago

Only Thing On My Mind

(Byler makeout fic ask/request for @iloveheadphones)

No one knows this, but it’s their 6th month anniversary. Mike and Will have been actual boyfriends for that long and it’s honestly kind of incredible. They’ve shared a lot with each other, back when they were merely friends. Best friends. From crayons to homework answers to food and so much more. This is different though. Good. No, more like better! 

This time, instead of sharing something that could easily be considered normal friend behavior, Mike and Will have gone above and beyond, and shared their once guarded hearts freely with each other. Completely open and vulnerable. Ready to be doted on and loved. The ultimate treasure, so priceless and unique and in their grasps, finally, fucking finally. Simply put, they’re happy, and because Mike’s a sucker for puns, he substitutes happy for “gay” now that he’s comfortable saying it. They're gay and Will rolls his eyes at the bad joke Mike giggles in his ear often. 

“Hey, Will?” Lucas asks one day when the Party’s sitting in Mike’s basement, going on a marathon of playing video games and munching on snacks, “You had your first kiss yet? Or are you saving it for someone special?”

All eyes are on him, except for a nervous Mike, who’s just a bit too obvious in his distress. It’s by the grace of God that Mike’s always been naturally weird so their mutual friends don’t bother pointing out how their dear leader nearly spits out his soda all over an oblivious Dustin and Max. Will’s feeling conflicted. Half trying not to laugh at his boyfriend’s lack of tact, seeing Mike choke-cough-swallow his drink down. The other half is Will trying not to shout to the world how he not only has had his first kiss, but he’s also the self-proclaimed Hickey King. 

Mike has used the excuses of getting bit by mosquitos, and having sensitive skin that bruises too easy, in order to hide the fact that Will could be a vampire or possibly a cannibal because the boy likes to bite. 

An air of confidence whirls around Will when he cheekily grins and boldly announces, “Yeah, actually, I have.” 

All goes still and quiet after a collective gasp resonates among them. Then there’s uproar. Mike feels like he’ll die.

“WILLIAM!” El and Max say the first part of Will’s government name in shock, jaws dropped, as Lucas and Dustin finish the last part screaming elatedly, proud smirks plastered. “BYERS!”

Will laughs at their reactions, somewhat knowing that they all expected him to do the usual, shy away or wistfully sigh that his time hasn’t come yet, with Mike his personal knight in shining armor, typically swooping in for the rescue by changing the subject. That was when he had nothing to give them, but Will's feeling mischievous lately. Knows that Mike’s sweating bullets, and maybe Will’s a dormant bully all along because he rather enjoys seeing his curly haired boyfriend brightly blush, watching Mike subconsciously shield his long kissable neck that’s not exactly covered in vicious mosquito bites as their dear leader has claimed.

Video game abandoned, Lucas and Dustin hurry to flank Will, ready to interrogate, simultaneously patting him on the back in congratulations, and by doing so they carelessly push Mike out of his rightful seat on the couch beside the man of the hour, onto the less comfy floor. What a way to treat the host, sheesh.

“Argh!” Mike yelps pitifully as he falls halfway on Max, who shoves him off her quite roughly, but to be fair he is really heavy for her petite body to be squished under.

El, the only friend Mike considers an angel to his Hellfire Demon Party, has the decency to check on him, though the urge to be nosy and question her brother (maybe annoy him now that she’s embraced her sister role fully) is hailing her.

“Are you okay?” She peeps down at Mike sprawled on the floor akimbo. 

He gives a halfhearted thumbs up paired with a blank face, groaning. “Peachy.”

They look towards the couch, where Max has joined Lucas and Dustin in surrounding Will, begging for details and the sight reminds Mike of the gossip circles Karen runs with when mothers of Hawkins see each other in grocery store aisles or scheduled book club meetings. As far as the secret couple’s friends are concerned, Will’s technically a late bloomer so this info dump is a big deal.

“Was it a girl in Lenora?” 

“Hawkins? It’s gotta be!”

“No, it’s a random chick on that road trip from Cali to here, right?”

Will keeps laughing at all the wrong answers, the Party growing more frustrated, and Mike hoping none of them wonder why he’s suspiciously not participating when, according to his actions from that one infamous Halloween, he’s the most possessive over Will out of the friend group that should definitely be demanding the truth because friends don't lie by omission.

“Sorry,” Will’s grin is cute and he puts on some gentlemanly accent. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Booooo!” 

That’s how it goes for a few minutes, them trying and failing to get Will to give away even the tiniest bit of descriptions, and El’s horrified to know that her brother is immune to her pleading puppy dog eyes (that usually worked on Jonathan and Hopper, damn).

“Cookies!” Mike abruptly hollers as he jumps to his feet, causing everyone to halt their speech to eye him, perplexed. He gestures his arms as wildly as when he attempted convincing people to sub for Eddie’s Hellfire campaign. “Who wants them? Mom bought the ready-to-bake ones and since we’re all here…”

“Actually, that does sound like a good idea.” Lucas only agrees because his stomach starts howling, his appetite more voracious now that he’s a certified athlete burning calories.

Dustin, El, and Max also agree that they could go for the sweet treat. Mike’s nerves calm down a tad, having successfully deflected the “Who’s Will Kissing?” topic that sent him in a crisis. Last thing he needs is for their friends to know that Will’s far from innocent. Call him selfish, but Mike wants to be the only one reveling in that knowledge a little more, quite mesmerized by how unhinged Will can really be when he’s completely candid. Joyce’s off-her-rocker genes are strong in her sons, and Mike’s kind of horrified that he and Nancy can’t leave the Byers brothers alone even if they tried. 

“I’ll help Mike with the cookies.” Will offers, and there’s a glint in his eyes that has Mike already anticipating where this is going. “I can carry a tray of milk for us while Mike has the cooled off pan. We can pretend we're Santa.”

Oh gosh. Why is Mike’s boyfriend so naturally sneaky? None of their friends suspect anything. Some even encourage Will to go so Mike won’t burn the cookies, not trusting the raven haired boy’s baking skills at all. 

“Dunking cookies in milk is the best! Can’t wait to eat.” Dustin says, unaware of Will licking his lips salaciously while following an eager Mike up the basement stairs.

Will parrots quietly under his breath. “I can’t wait to eat, either.”   

********

The kitchen is supposed to be a sacred place, but with all of Mike’s family out of the house doing errands or other activities, and with the rest of the Party distracted by leveling up in video games, Mike and Will take the opportunity alone to start their 6 month anniversary festivities early. 

“Swear on my life,” Mike hisses a feeble threat as Will devilishly presses him against the kitchen wall, a hand firmly on Mike's chest, the other grasping Mike's waist. “If you leave another mark I’m gonna have to steal my mom’s makeup and learn how to use her concealer.”

Will’s only half-listening, famished lips already latching onto the exposed patch of skin on Mike’s pale throat, mouthing along from the jawline to the collarbone to the crook of the shoulder and base of the neck. “Then you better get to learning. Think makeup would look pretty good on you.” He jokes.

The feel of Will’s sloppy warm kisses combined with his deliberate humming sends violent tremors throughout Mike’s body, his knees going wobbly weak. He’s glad the wall and Will is supporting his weight or he might collapse. Mike’s shaky squeaky breath hitches, heart stuttering when he felt the familiar slight sharp pain of Will’s teeth sink into his neck. It’s hard enough to leave imprints, but soft enough to not break skin. Mike’s irritated flesh begins to bloom sanguine red beneath Will’s velvety lips, especially when Will switches from aggressive biting to playful sucking in a gentle attempt to soothe. It causes Mike to loudly gasp and grip tighter onto the hem of Will’s sweater, right hand bunching the fabric up in his fist. His left hand flies to Will’s head, threading his bony fingers into silky syrupy brown hair, pushing his boyfriend further into him as if they could become one just from sticking together like paper mache.

Will continues to suck on his bite mark until he’s satisfied with his work, his ears enjoying the whispered mix of curses and praises escaping from behind Mike’s clenched teeth as he involuntarily yet lightly bangs the back of his head on the wall, all tingly and wired. His left hand falls from Will’s hair, fingers tracing the shorter boy’s nape, teasingly rubbing small circles, creating goosebumps with his scratching nails that has Will giving an appreciative purr, which again sends vibrations to Mike’s throat and spreads beyond that bundle of nerves. They were in perfect harmony, a symbiosis some say, with trading pleasures to amplify the experience. Both in agreement to desperately make out as a means to pass the time while their chocolate chip cookies bake in the oven for twenty minutes.

The sound of rushed steps from the basement is thunderous and the couple separate in haste, struggling to fix their clothes and hair. Mike looks absolutely wrecked and Will can’t stop feeling smug.

“Mike! Lucas beat your high score!” Dustin informs the second he’s in their presence and thankfully, he cares more for Mario rather than Mike’s blotchy face and hushed ravenous panting.

“Whoa! No way!” Will manages to speak and gain Dustin's full attention, hand wiping his mouth and then splaying to cover his own feral expression, despite his evidently blown pupils diminishing his hazel irises.

Dustin beckons them to come downstairs to see for themselves, after the cookies are done of course (priority people), and then leaves to complain about Lucas getting coached by Max. 

Once alone again, Mike reluctantly asks Will how bad the damage is, to which Will supplies sheepishly as he scratches his cheek, “Probably wanna say you got bit by a spider this time. It has got to be your biggest and worst hickey as of date.”

“I hate you.” Mike exaggerates, just sensing his neck coloring a riotous purplish-blue, pinching the bridge of his nose in vexation.

********

It’s a long night. The Party plans on sleeping over, although Karen prefers the girls to sleep upstairs in Mike’s room while the boys have the basement. Somehow, the spider bite lie is believable considering its summer and all sorts of pre-historic creepy crawlies are afoot (though Max is doubtful, but remains silent), and when the Wheeler family return home after running whatever errands, Karen justly freaks out and forces Mike to put on healing ointment.

“I’m taking you to the doctor’s for an allergy test. This sensitive skin issue is getting out of hand. And what kind of spider bit you, again? Did you kill it? Is it still prowling my house?” She worries and Mike internally vows to pay Will back for his uncontrollable gnawing tendencies. 

Eventually, the Party prepares for bed. Max and El sleepily walk upstairs and bid the boys a goodnight. Dustin and Lucas get cozy in their sleeping bags. Currently, Mike’s laying on the couch and Will occupies the basement bathroom to brush his teeth. This is routine. Ever since they were kids. Dustin would change into his pajamas and brush his teeth first, then Lucas, then Will, and lastly Mike. Because they did things in that order, that meant Dustin would pass out first, then Lucas, then Will, and finally Mike - who’d stumble out the bathroom to all three of his friends snoring and drooling away - waiting for him to turn off the ceiling light overhead.

Like clockwork, the moment Will started to run the tap to wet his toothbrush, Mike saw Dustin and Lucas slip into slumber with ease - old habits die hard. He quickly leaves the couch to tiptoe to the bathroom, the door ajar. Mike cracks the door open more and Will can spot him in the mirror’s reflection, standing behind him.

“S’not your turn yet. It’s mine.” Will muffles with a mouthful of toothpaste that he spits out to rinse. “See! Finally done. Your turn now.”

Swiftly, Mike breaches the threshold, shuts the door, and locks it (memories of Jonathan barging in haunt the Wheeler's sole son daily).

He clicks his tongue, tsking, “That’s where you’re mistaken, Will. It’s actually my turn. My turn to get…. Dun, dun, dun… revenge!”

“Huh?” Will sets down his toothbrush on the sink, twisting around to face Mike, and is caught off guard when his boyfriend pounces on him animal kingdom style.

Stolen kisses taste better. Their lips connect, fit together like puzzle pieces and Lego toy sets. Just like their childish games, Mike plays to win. His large hands are cupping Will's jaw, thumbs smoothing the skin under the shorter boy's lidded eyes. He gives ample affectionate pecks to a pliant Will, who's clasping onto Mike's wrists, squeezing and using his own thumbs to yearningly caress the pulse points of his towering boyfriend. Soon, Mike's insatiable tongue bravely licks at the seam of Will's swollen lips. It doesn't take much for Will to comply, and Mike takes advantage, savoring the fresh icy spearmint contrasted with heated smooches for a hot and cold sensation that sparks up jolting electricity, quick flashes like lightning.

"Mike." Will rasps when his lips are begrudgingly freed.

Dark eyes are even darker, tinged with devious intent, and suddenly Will's on the receiving end of being bitten, branded by Mike's pearly whites while also leaning on the sink, some of the toiletry items like soap and the soap dish falling carelessly to the tiled floor. His only warning is the humorous Transylvanian accent Mike jauntily gives a whirl, "I want to suck your blood."

It makes Will quiver and pull Mike closer to him, flush against, for Mike had the audacity to mumble that in his ear, gingerly nipping at his earlobe. Teeth snatching onto the very spot where girls get piercings. Will’s mouth falls open wide and eyes screw shut, voice unexpectedly roaring in rapture that would definitely wake up the entire household if unchecked. Luckily, Mike has spectacular foresight, sliding one of his hands from cupping Will’s jaw to smother his shrilling mouth. Mike’s other hand snakes across his boyfriend’s back and bends him backwards in a faux ballroom dance dip, arching him over the sink’s edge to the point where Will’s head touches the cool mirror glass. This new angle gives Mike full access to the love of his life’s splattered with moles throat, Will’s Adam’s apple bobbing with every gulp of sheer excitement, inviting. Mike lowers his pink lips to map out a trail along the enticing junctions, biting and suckling and lapping, undaunted at the evidence he’s tagging. Just like his immature days of middle school graffiti. Except this time it’s with his tongue and teeth, not a permanent marker and paint spray can.

Between Will’s muted palatable babbles suppressed by Mike’s left hand, plus his flexing back muscles that Mike’s right hand strokes at a risky area of his spine, and the breathtaking buzz that quakes his every senses, it’s not too surprising when the bathroom light flickers rapidly - as if it’s short circuiting. Mike’s grown accustomed to it. Will’s powers tend to activate when overstimulated. He knows that’s one of the reasons Will tries to lead in their private amorous exertions. Because if Will took the lead, then he could control the pacing and himself better. Not to become undone from Mike’s calculated cradling that makes up for all the time wasted when they could’ve been officially dating pre-Vecna and awkward dancing with girls. So far, Will only trusts Mike to keep this secret of theirs, besides their secret relationship. He hasn’t processed why he has powers yet.

His screwed shut hazel eyes pop open when Mike’s wicked lips siphoned a patch of skin in just the right way that had his nose start bleeding from both nostrils instantly, and the flickering lightbulb above them exploded, glass raining down on them and scattering everywhere.

“Shit!” They both swear in sync, bracing themselves to block the raining glass shards. Okay, alright, Mike perhaps overdid it with his silly hickey revenge. That’s not very herolike behavior of him.

They hear multiple stomping and stumbling noises from beyond the bathroom door. Both in the basement and up above on the ground floor. If it wasn’t pitch black, they’d see each other’s shared looks, reading each other’s minds from mere eye contact - Will must’ve broken every lightbulb in the house. Damn.

“Mike! Will! Where the fuck are you guys?!” Lucas shouts and Mike feels for the bathroom door, careful to not step on any shards and slice his bare feet. At least Will has socks and slippers on.

“I’m by the washer and dryer!” Mike lies, slithering out the bathroom before Will, rushing over to the adjacent location he claimed to be at. “Will’s still in the bathroom!”

That much was true. Will is still in the bathroom. It’d be suspicious if they both were there during this extremely uncanny blackout. Dustin has said something neither Mike nor Will can make out, but it’s all unimportant once the basement door opens.

“Are you boys okay down there?” It’s Karen, tone motherly and leveled. “Ted’s gone outside to see what happened. Apparently, the whole block is without power. The streetlights have all… Uh… exploded or cracked or something. Mr. Sinclair’s telling Ted he thinks it’s another weird earthquake since the lights were flickering strangely.”

“Bullshit!” Dustin exclaims in the darkness. “If it were that shouldn’t furniture be toppled over, too?!”

Mike effortlessly deadens Dustin’s prying. “Hey, now, it’s Hawkins. What’s new?”

“He’s right about that.” Lucas cosigns. “If it ain’t one thing, it’s another with this place.”

The boys decide to stay up using the Wheeler’s spare flashlights. The girls join them, El even tapping into the mindspace and finding nothing odd out of the ordinary since the Upside Down gates were permanently sealed. Another mystery for the Party to solve at daybreak. Until then, they huddled together and told ghost stories, making the most of it. Mike would hope one day to figure out exactly why Will's powers manifested and lingered, despite his connection to Vecna being severed.

*******

It’s early morning. Hours after Will accidentally ruined the power grid system of Mike and Lucas’s street. The electrical company’s out to fix things. Weather’s in their favor, blinding rain pouring as Mike and Will are the first ones up in their sleeping friend huddle to get dressed, throwing on hooded buttoned up rain coats (blue and yellow respectively) that hide their blemished necks efficiently. The couple’s not usually morning people, but with the Party unaware of their relationship and probably on the cusp of it, Mike and Will always stayed one step ahead just in case. The rest of them promptly wake up one after the other. With no power, the sleepover is cut short - so says Karen - and everyone leaves. Lucas drives Dustin and Max home, with El hitching a ride to stay with Max a little longer at her trailer. Mike opts to drive Will home, the Byers-Hopper house in the opposite direction of where Lucas’s going.

“We can’t let that happen again.” Mike chews on the inside of his cheek, blushing aflame when driving by the electrical workers scratching their heads at a broken streetlight. 

Will huffs, arms crossed, slinking into the passenger seat. “Whose fault do you think that is?”

“Well, you started it! You freaking vampire.” Mike rips his hood off to display Will’s mock spider bite hickey smudging his pale neck.

“Oh, yeah! That’s only one! You did a gazillion on me!” He copies Mike to show off his hickeys that seem to be the same amount as his moles, his neck almost two-toned.

They glare at each other for just a fraction of a second, the steam getting lukewarm. Neither can be too mad or peeved with each other. It’s in their nature to forgive the other. That’s just how they are. Mike does a peace offering, laying his hand on the armrest, palm side up, and Will automatically interlocks their fingers. Holding hands in the car is a few of their favorite hobbies. They pull up to Will’s home, not a single car in the driveway. Maybe, Hopper’s been spirited away by the station to investigate the power outage. Will has no idea where Jonathan or Joyce could be. But with Vecna gone and the Upside Down perished, the Byers don’t keep tabs on each other like they used to.

“Your folks out?” Mike wistfully probes, eyebrows waggish and dark eyes sly. 

Will thoughtfully glances his way. “Seems so.”

“Are you cold? Since it’s raining, y’know?” Mike’s expression is laced with suggestions.

“Just a little chilly. I could warm up more, though.” Will keeps the game going.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Ten minutes later, they’re in the house, nearly tripping to the living room couch while pawing at each other. The drenched raincoats are pooled at the front door by the hat rack and various assorted shoes. Mike’s hair is a tad damp, and he squeals at Will needily tugging at the curls. Glossy puffy lips weld together, fast and hard. It’s with urgency. They stretch out on the couch, cramming in the cushions on their sides, limbs interwoven and taut, much like intricate Boy Scouts knots (something Mike and Lucas were forced to do for a brief stint in their childhood). Mike’s holding onto Will fiercely, preventing the other boy from falling off by pasting him to his chest and hooking his legs over his hip. Carnivorous messy kisses are exchanged. Will’s nibbles on Mike’s jutted bottom lip. In response, Mike creeps his hands under Will’s shirt, clawing at his vertebrae. 

“H-Happy anniversary, by the way. I mean to give you your gift sooner, but it’s not dry yet.” Will confesses between peppering kisses on Mike’s freckled face.

“Dry yet? Is it a painting?!” Mike sounds gleeful, or that be how ticklish he is, giggling at Will’s switch to butterfly kisses.

“Nope. I’m dabbling in a new media. Clay.” 

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

“Well, my gift to you is two tickets to that art gallery coming to Indy.”

“You didn’t!”

“I did!”

“Indianapolis? Really?” Will stares smitten at Mike who brushes a stray hair behind his ear.

“Totally.”

“Sweet.”

They return to making out, calming down some to delicate touches and massages. Enshrouding tranquility luxuriates them. The rain stopped pouring buckets outside, but neither boy noticed. Too entranced in feeling the other up, immersed in being felt up, and their unconditional enthrallment is to be their rude awakening when a car pulls up in the driveway beside Mike’s. By now, their hair is disheveled and shirts are off. Reddening nail claw marks made from Mike streak Will. Hickeys sprinkle all on Mike’s clavicle, trapezius, shoulder, and sternum. The familiar thrum of Will’s body alerts him that his nose is going to bleed again if they don’t get ahold of themselves.

“Honey, I’m home!” Joyce calls, entering the house with Jonathan and Nancy hauling grocery bags. “You didn’t tell me Mike was dropping… You… Off…” She trails at the sight before her.

Stopping in her tracks, so does Jonathan and Nancy, all three gawk silently at Will and Mike scrambling for their shirts. They’ve been caught. Will’s not too bothered, considering Joyce and Jonathan know that he’s gay. It’s more of the fact that they didn’t know he actually got with his dream boy longterm crush turned true love. Mike, on the other hand, is mortified that he’s in this indecent position and of all people, his sister Nancy, is the first of his family to witness this. He could handle Jonathan and Joyce, but Nancy was a different story.

“Um… G-Good morning.” Mike stammers out as Will grabs his boyfriend’s wrist. 

Well, they certainly have some explaining to do.

___ 

End scene. To be continued or not.... Thanks for reading!       


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2 years ago
Do U Ever Think About How Naturally These Two Were Able To Reconnect And How Damn Easy It Was For Them
Do U Ever Think About How Naturally These Two Were Able To Reconnect And How Damn Easy It Was For Them

do u ever think about how naturally these two were able to reconnect and how damn easy it was for them to fall back into their usual, reassuring, effortless friendship?? like. as a reminder, this was the first time they'd actually spoken to one other after rink-o-mania, and yet they were still able to make each other smile and laugh and blush like their fight and their whole year of distance and miscommunication had never even happened 🥺😭🥹


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1 year ago

miwi where they're playing together but will's a sleepy boy so he yawns and gets drowsy and mike encourages him to nap with his head on his lap and will's like. okay. he settles himself properly with mike's lap on his pillow and he sleeps. it's a good sleep. being around mike always guarantees good dreams.

when he wakes up he slowly blinks his eyes open and sees that mike is staring down at him, playing with his hair. his fingers are so gentle, and will falls a little more in love.


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