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The Wheeler's dining room was filled with the heavy, comforting scent of bubbling cheese and rich tomato sauce, a smell that seemed to anchor the humid May air that was currently drifting through the open windows and making the evening feel thick and restless. The Party was gathered around the large as Mike’s mom made good on her promise to feed them one last proper meal before they headed out into the night as high school graduates. A large, steaming pan of homemade lasagna sat in the center of the table, the layers of pasta and meat already being carved into by a hungry group of teenagers.
"I just don't know if I'm in the mood to spend our very first night of freedom dodging a bunch of drunk varsity guys who think they own the town," Mike muttered, stabbing a piece of pasta with a bit more force than necessary while he looked around the room with a skeptical brow raised.
"Mike, don't be a buzzkill," Lucas countered immediately, reaching for a piece of garlic bread and pointing it at Mike like a weapon while the crickets outside in the yard began their rhythmic evening drone.
"Yeah, exactly like I said in my speech today, we’ve all been getting along lately," Dustin chimed in, his eyes bright with a mix of leftover graduation adrenaline and genuine optimism. "The basketball guys apologized like a long while ago and we've been cool since then, so I think it's worth a shot to actually see what a real party is like, plus Stacy seemed interested in me during the ceremony and I’m not about to let that lead go to waste."
Mike opened his mouth to protest again, probably to bring up the fact that they could just stay here and play another D&D session without the risk of someone throwing up on their shoes, but Max interjected before he could get a single word out. "We are definitely going, Mike, because it’s literally the first time we’ve ever been invited to a real high school party and I’m not going through hell to graduate just to sit in your basement again," she said, her voice firm and leaving no room for debate.
"I think we should go too," Will added quietly, his voice surprisingly steady as he looked up from his plate.
The reaction was immediate as Mike and Dustin both looked at him with wide, shocked eyes as if he’d just suggested they move to the moon, while Max and Lucas didn't seem surprised at all, their grins only widening as they traded a quick, knowing look. Mike blinked a few times, his fork hovering halfway to his mouth, clearly stunned that the usually reserved Will Byers was the tiebreaker for a night of social chaos.
As the group eventually finished their meal and began the chaotic process of clearing the table and grabbing their jackets, the air in the house shifted toward a frantic sort of excitement. Max waited until Mike and Dustin were occupied with a loud argument in the kitchen about who was going to sit in the middle seat of the car, and then she slipped over to Will’s side, making sure there was no one else listening before she nudged his shoulder with a sharp, teasing elbow. "So," she whispered, her eyes dancing with mischief as she looked at him, "care to tell me why you're suddenly so eager to get to a house full of sweaty jocks, or should I just guess that a certain someone is going to be there?"
Will felt the heat rush to his face instantly, and he looked away, trying to hide the small, private smile that was threatening to break through his composed mask while he fumbled with the zipper of his jacket. Max was the only one who actually knew the truth, a secret she’d earned months ago when Will had shown up at her door in a total panic because he had no idea how to cover up the dark, blooming hickeys on his neck. He was pretty sure Lucas suspected something was up because Lucas noticed everything, and he was almost certain that his mom and Hop also knew on some level, though they hadn't actually sat him down to talk about it yet.
"It’s graduation night, Max, and I just think we should actually go out and do something normal for once instead of hiding in a basement while the rest of them are celebrating," Will murmured, his voice dipping into a low, playful register as he finally dared to meet her gaze with a defiant spark in his eyes. He gave her a pointed look, one that silently acknowledged exactly what she was implying without him having to actually say the words out loud in the middle of the Wheeler's hallway.
Max let out a short, knowing bark of laughter, shaking her head as she adjusted her bag. "Nice try, Byers, but you’re a terrible liar when you’re this happy, so just try to keep your head on straight once we get there," she said, her grin softening into something a little more supportive. "Just make sure you don't disappear for too long, or I'll have to start making up excuses for you when the guys start wondering where you went."
Will gave her a quick, playful glare that told her to drop it for now, but as he followed her toward the front door, his mind drifted back over the last seven months, his thoughts snagging on the memory of all the secret, stolen getaways he and Chance had managed to pull off. They’d perfected the art of disappearing during school hours, finding refuge in the humid locker rooms or the back corners of the library, but most of their time had been spent in the cab of Chance’s truck since Will’s car was far too small to be anything close to comfortable. He could almost feel the phantom sensation of the fogged up windows pressing against his skin and the way his own handprint had smeared against the glass as he tried to steady himself while Chance thrusted into him from behind, the rhythmic, heavy heat of it making the world outside the truck disappear entirely.
Will had to sharply pull himself out of those thoughts before he got himself into an awkward situation right there in the hallway, and he cleared his throat, blinking rapidly to ground himself in the present moment. The group piled out of the house and into the car, the humid May night swallowing their laughter as they drove toward the party.
The transition from the safe, domestic warmth of the Wheeler house to the chaotic pulse of Stacy Albright's party was enough to make Will’s head spin, but he kept his focus on the rhythm of the music and the comforting presence of Max as she pulled him toward the makeshift dance floor in the center of the living room. The air was thick with the scent of cheap perfume and the heavy, humid heat of too many bodies packed into a single space while the strobe lights flickered overhead in a way that turned the room into a fragmented, neon dreamscape where every movement felt like it was happening in slow motion. Max was moving with an easy, reckless grace that he’d always admired, her red hair catching the blue and violet light as she spun, and for a few minutes, Will let himself forget about the world around him.
He was just beginning to relax into the heavy bass of a synth-pop track when his gaze drifted toward the edge of the kitchen, and that’s when he saw him standing near the base of the stairs, looking so undeniably out of place and yet perfectly at home in the middle of the madness. Chance was leaning back against the wooden banister with a plastic cup held loosely in one hand, his dark hair messy in a way that Will knew was the result of him running his hands through it, and the moment their eyes locked, the music and the shouting teenagers seemed to fade into a dull, distant hum. Will felt a sudden, sharp jolt of electricity shoot through his spine, but he didn't stop his movement, instead continuing to sway slightly to the beat even as his eyes stayed anchored to the boy who held his entire world in his hands.
Chance didn't look away or offer a friendly wave, but instead, he slowly and very deliberately broke the eye contact to let his gaze travel down the length of Will’s body, his eyes lingering on the fit of Will’s jeans and the way his shirt was tucked in just right. The look was so heavy and so charged that Will felt a wave of heat wash over his skin, a flush that started at his toes and ended in the roots of his hair, making him feel like he was standing in front of a furnace. When Chance finally brought his eyes back up to meet Will’s again, a slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face that told Will exactly what he was thinking, and the intensity of it made Will’s knees feel like they were made of water while he kept up the rhythm of the dance just to keep himself from collapsing.
Without saying a word or even moving his lips, Chance did a subtle, sharp jerk of his head toward the second floor, a silent signal that was meant only for Will, and then he turned and began to climb the stairs with a casual, predatory stride that made Will’s heart hammer against his ribs like a trapped bird. Will stayed on the dance floor for only a second longer, his breath coming in short, jagged gasps as he tried to compose himself, but he could feel the magnetic pull of the other boy drawing him toward the hallway with a force that was impossible to resist.
"Go on, Byers, before you actually melt into the carpet and I have to explain to Mike why there's a puddle where his best friend used to be," Max whispered into his ear, her voice full of a playful mischief that told him she’d seen the whole exchange from the corner of her eye.
Will didn't have the breath to answer her as he turned and began to weave his way through the crowd, his eyes locked on the spot where Chance had disappeared at the top of the stairs, and he felt a desperate, clawing need to be behind a locked door where he didn't have to pretend to be anything other than a boy who was completely and utterly in love.
The guest bathroom at the end of the hall was small and impeccably clean, a space that looked barely used by the Albright family and stood in stark contrast to the sticky, beer-slicked surfaces of the rooms downstairs. A single light fixture overhead cast a muted, lemon-yellow glow over the white tile and the silver fixtures, creating a sanctuary that felt entirely disconnected from the world beyond the door, where the music was nothing but a distant, rhythmic throb that pulsed through the walls. For a long moment after the lock clicked into place with a definitive, metallic snap, they simply stood there in the sudden silence, the air between them thick and heavy.
Chance exhaled slowly, a long and jagged sound that made it seem as though he'd been holding his breath since the second he stepped through the front door of the party, and he looked at Will with an expression that was raw and stripped of his usual practiced indifference. “God,” he murmured, his voice sounding low and slightly broken in the quiet of the room as he let his eyes wander over Will’s face, “seeing you out there on that dance floor, Will, I didn't think I’d be able to stay on the other side of the room for another second.”
Will let out a soft, breathy laugh, the nerves buzzing under his skin like a live wire even as a sense of profound relief began to settle in his chest, and he took a small step forward into Chance’s personal space. “You’re the one who started it with that look you gave me, so don’t act like you were some innocent bystander,” Will countered, his voice steady despite the way his heart was hammering against his ribs.
Chance smiled, a small and private thing that was meant only for Will to see, and he moved even closer until Will could feel the radiating heat of his body and smell the familiar, sharp tang of his cologne, a scent that had come to mean safety in a world that often felt anything but. Chance lifted a hand and brushed his thumb along the line of Will’s jaw, the movement gentle and deliberate as if he were trying to memorize the texture of Will’s skin in the dim light, and his gaze turned serious as he searched Will’s eyes for any sign of hesitation.
“Tell me if you want to stop, Will,” Chance said, his voice turning deep and raspy.
Will didn't look away, and instead he met Chance’s eyes with an unwavering certainty that felt like the most honest thing he'd ever possessed. “I won’t,” he replied, his voice a firm promise that shattered the last of the distance between them.
The moment the words left Will’s lips, Chance leaned in and captured his mouth in a kiss that was slow and devastatingly thorough, their tongues beginning to tangle in a desperate way that made the rest of the world fall away.
Chance pulled back for only a fleeting second, his breath hitching as he reached down to grab the hem of Will’s t-shirt and yanked it up and over his head in one fluid, practiced motion. He tossed the fabric aside without a second thought before surging right back in, his mouth crashing against Will’s with a renewed, hungry intensity that left Will breathless.
While their mouths remained locked together, Will’s own hands were busy, his fingers shaking only slightly as he fumbled with the buttons of Chance’s dark shirt, desperate to feel the heat of the older boy’s skin against his own. As Will worked the fastenings with a frantic energy, Chance’s large hands began to roam freely over Will’s bare torso, his palms mapping out the familiar curves of his waist and ribs before one hand migrated upward. Chance caught one of Will’s nipples between his pointer finger and thumb, pinching it firmly before he began to roll the sensitive peak between his fingers.
The sharp, electric jolt of sensation was enough to make Will’s knees buckle, and he let out a low, needy sound that was swallowed by the heat of Chance’s mouth, his body arching instinctively into the contact. The sensation of Chance’s warm skin finally meeting his own as the dark shirt was shoved aside felt like a bolt of lightning, and they continued to kiss with a feverish intensity as the discarded layers of denim and cotton fell to the floor like the heavy weights of their public lives.
Every flick of a tongue and every nip of a tooth felt like a confession of how much they’d missed each other, and the friction of their bare bodies grinding together made the small, cramped room feel like it was boiling around them. Eventually, Chance hoisted Will up and sat him on the edge of the sink counter, the porcelain feeling like a jolt of ice against his bare skin, which only served to make the heat where their bodies met feel more explosive.
They stayed there for several long minutes, Will’s hands gripping Chance's shoulders until his knuckles were white, his fingers digging into the firm muscle as he pulled the other boy closer to bridge every possible gap between them. Chance crowded into him, his legs forcing Will's even wider so he could press himself fully into Will's space, the intensity of the contact making Will's head light. The friction was agonizingly perfect as Chance began to grind his hips against Will's, a slow and rolling pressure that made the air in Will's lungs vanish instantly. Will let out a moan that was far louder than he intended, the sound echoing off the tiles and the mirror, a sharp cry of pleasure that seemed to vibrate through the entire small room.
Chance immediately pulled back just an inch, his hand sliding up to cover Will's mouth while his other hand gripped Will's hip to keep him still for a second. "Shhh, you're gonna have to be quiet for me, Will, unless you want the whole party to come knocking on this door to see what we're up to," Chance whispered, his breath hot against Will's ear. Will's breath hitched, his heart slamming against his ribs, and he saw the dark, playful glimmer in Chance's eyes. "Or do you like the idea of someone seeing us? Do you like the thought of someone walking in to find you bent over this counter for me?"
Chance leaned a bit closer then, his nose brushing against Will's until Will could feel the ghost of Chance's damp, shaky breath right against his own lips, the intimacy of the proximity making Will's vision blur. "Tell me, baby," Chance murmured, his voice a low, honeyed lure in the quiet of the room, "do you want someone to see how beautiful you look while I'm inside you?"
The provocative words sent a fresh jolt of heat through Will that went straight to his cock, and he felt a surge of defiant, electric energy. Will lunged forward, his fingers tangling roughly in the hair at the back of Chance’s head as he surged up to kiss him with a ferocity that caught Chance off guard, effectively silencing whatever other teasing remarks were waiting on Chance’s tongue. Chance let out a muffled grunt of surprise that quickly dissolved into a low, appreciative hum as he leaned into the contact, his hands tightening on Will’s hips to anchor him as they fought for dominance in a kiss that tasted of sweat and desperation.
The rhythmic thumping of the party downstairs seemed to sync up with the pounding of their hearts, creating a frantic, double-time pulse that vibrated through the floorboards and traveled up through Chance’s legs into Will’s own body, and he felt a sudden, dizzying sense of vertigo as he realized just how thin the door between them and the rest of the world really was. It was only when the heat between them became almost too much to bear, a stifling and electric pressure that demanded a release, that Will finally wrapped his legs around Chance’s waist, locking his ankles behind the other boy’s back as he was hoisted up with a grunt of effort. Chance carried him across the small, tiled space until Will’s back hit the solid, painted wood of the linen closet door with a muffled thud, and he held him there, one large hand clamped firmly onto Will’s hip to take the brunt of his weight and keep him pinned securely against the door, ensuring he didn't slip even as Will’s legs squeezed tight around his middle in a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between them.
The air in the bathroom was already thick and heavy, but the friction between them made it feel like it was about to combust as they ground their naked bodies together in a slow, punishing rhythm that sent jolts of heat straight to Will's core. The slick slide of their cocks against one another felt like a direct current of electricity, and the damp, salt-kissed heat of their cocks pressing together created a friction that made Will’s head light with a desperate need.
He had his arms hooked tightly around Chance’s neck, pulling him closer until there wasn't a single inch of space left between their chests, and he could feel the steady, powerful thrum of Chance’s heartbeat against his own ribs as they searched for any kind of relief from the building pressure that was quickly becoming unbearable.
"Open your mouth for me, baby," Chance murmured against his lips, his voice a low, gravelly command that Will didn't even think about questioning before he was parting his lips and tilting his head back to receive him.
Chance guided three of his fingers into Will’s mouth, and Will took them in greedily, his tongue swirling around the knuckles and his eyes fluttering shut as he focused on the slick, wet heat of the gesture, tasting the salt on Chance's skin while they continued to rock against each other.
They continued to move in that tight, frantic circle, the steady grinding of their sweat-slicked hips keeping time with the muffled bass of the music downstairs, until the friction became a dizzying, constant thrum that threatened to pull Will under completely and leave him breathless in the sweltering dark. After a long, breathless minute of holding Will’s gaze with an intensity that felt like it was stripping him bare, Chance slowly began to draw his fingers out of Will’s mouth, a thin, silver string of saliva stretching between them in the dim light before it finally snapped, leaving Will’s lips wet and glistening as he let out a shaky, needy exhale into the quiet space.
Without breaking the connection of their bodies, Chance reached down between them, his hand disappearing into the narrow, heated space to find Will’s entrance, which he began to rub with a steady, rhythmic pressure to distribute the moisture he’d just gathered from Will's mouth. Will’s breath hitched in his throat and his fingers dug into the hard muscles of Chance’s shoulders as he felt the first, tentative slide of a finger entering him, the sensation making his vision go blurry for a second as his muscles clamped down in a reflex of shock and pleasure.
Even with the ticking clock of the party outside the door and the frantic need to just finish this before they were caught, Chance forced himself to be patient, knowing that being gentle now would only make the later parts of the night better for Will. He kept his first finger moving in a steady, internal curve, waiting for Will’s body to stop trembling and start accepting the intrusion, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin nearby to keep him grounded. They were both moving fast, their breathing ragged and their skin slick with sweat as they rushed toward the finish line, yet Chance refused to add a second finger until he felt Will’s muscles finally loosen and melt around him.
When he finally felt that soft, yielding surrender, Chance slowly added a second finger, the deliberate stretch and the wet, quiet sounds of his movements filling the small room until Will was nothing more than a collection of raw nerves and desperate, broken gasps. He moved his hand with a precision that was born from every single time they had done this before, his fingers remembering exactly how to move from all those hours spent in the cramped cab of the truck or the steam-filled locker room showers, finding the spots that made Will’s back arch and his toes curl while he continued to nip at the sensitive skin of Will’s collarbones. Will braced himself, his head lolling against the closet door as he prepared for more of the same slow, agonizingly patient movements, but the tension was already coiled too tight in his gut. "Chance, please, just hurry up," Will managed to choke out, his voice cracking with a frantic sort of impatience that seemed to snap something inside the older boy.
He felt Chance finally slide a third finger inside of him, and finally, it snapped instantly into something far more primal and demanding. Instead of the steady, circular stretching Will had expected, Chance began to pound into him with his fingers, the sudden roughness taking Will by surprise and knocking the breath clean out of his lungs. When Chance first hit Will’s prostate head on with a rough, heavy thrust of his fingers, Will let out a moan that was far too loud for the small space, the sound echoing off the tiles and making his own heart stop in fear.
Chance immediately leaned in, his lips brushing against Will’s ear as he delivered another sharp, targeted jab that made Will’s vision go white. "Didn’t I tell you to be quiet, baby?" Chance whispered, his voice a low, dangerous growl that sent a different kind of shiver down Will’s spine as he felt the vibration of the words against his damp skin. Will let out a high, broken whimper, his mouth clenching shut as he tried to swallow the rest of his cries, but Chance was relentless, his hand moving with a speed that was designed to break Will’s resolve.
"Do you want everyone out there to know just how good I fuck you, Will?" Chance murmured, his movements becoming even more punishing as he felt Will’s muscles tighten in a desperate struggle for control. He let out a dark, mocking chuckle and added, "Do you like the thought of everyone knowing you sound like this? Because I can just open this door right now and let them see you drooling on me while I take you apart."
A sudden, traitorous thought flashed through Will’s mind, a jagged bolt of heat that made his stomach flip as he imagined how hot it would be if the door swung open and everyone saw them—if they could all see exactly how well Chance fit inside him and how well Will took him. The mental image was so intense that Will had to bite his lip until he tasted copper to stop another loud, revealing moan from tearing out of his throat, and he buried his face deep into the crook of Chance’s neck, his hot breath ghosting over the other boy’s skin.
He was suspended in a blur of shame and overwhelming desire, his eyes squeezed shut as the targeted friction pushed him toward a release he couldn't control. The sound of the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin was muffled only by the heavy bass of the party, and Will’s legs shook where they were hooked around Chance’s waist, his fingers digging into Chance's shoulders as he was hammered against the wooden door. He could feel himself getting dangerously close to the edge, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs as he hung there, helpless against the relentless movement of Chance's hand.
Just as the pressure became unbearable and Will’s back arched in the beginning of a climax, Chance abruptly pulled his fingers out, leaving Will feeling cold and hollow in the sudden absence of that friction that left Will whining at the loss. The humidity in the small space seemed to double in the silence that followed, the air thick with the heavy scent of their shared heat and the cloying, floral smell of the soap on the counter, and Will felt as if he were being consumed by a fire that Chance had started and was now refusing to let him extinguish.
The air in the bathroom had become a living thing, thick with the heavy scent of salt and the suffocating, humid heat of their bodies, and Will could feel the rhythmic, low vibration of the party’s bass rattling through the wood of the door. He was suspended there, caught between the solid, unyielding strength of Chance’s hands on his hips and the white paint of the linen closet, until the need to be closer, to be the one giving back and taking control, became a physical ache he couldn't ignore any longer.
"Put me down," Will said, his voice dropping into a low, jagged rasp that was raw from the strain of his earlier moaning as he fixed his dark eyes on Chance’s with an intensity that left no room for argument.
For a second, Chance hesitated, his grip tightening almost instinctively on Will’s waist as if he were afraid to let go, and a flash of genuine confusion crossed his face and he searched Will’s eyes, his brow furrowing slightly while he tried to figure out why Will wanted to break the rhythm they’d just established. He looked almost dazed by the heat and the proximity, his hands hovering at Will’s waist as if he were unsure whether to tighten his hold or obey the command, but when he saw the steady, quiet fire in Will’s gaze, he finally relented and let his grip loosen.
Chance slowly lowered him, their slick bodies sliding together until Will’s feet finally made contact with the cold, hard tile floor, and the moment he was steady, Will dropped to his knees without a single moment of hesitation.
Since the room was so small, Will was still boxed in, kneeling right between Chance and the linen closet door with his back brushing the wood as he looked up. The shift was seamless, and Chance let out a sharp, hitching breath as he braced both hands against the door at chest height. His shadow loomed over Will, and Chance just stood there staring down with a dark, focused hunger that made Will's cock twitch in anticipation as he prepared to dismantle Chance's control piece by piece.
Will reached out to guide Chance to him, his hands steady as he began to work with a dedicated, practiced focus, and the second Will took him into his mouth, Chance’s entire body jolted at the feeling of Will’s warm, wet mouth. He was heavy and hot against Will’s tongue, a presence that was impossible to ignore, and Will felt a familiar, grounding thrill as he tasted the salt and the heat of him.
He remembered the first time he’d wanted to do this, how the mere thought had sent a spike of cold terror through his chest because he hadn't wanted it to feel like the invasive, cold violations of the Upside Down, where things had been forced into his throat without his consent. Chance had been so gentle back then, sensing the hesitation and telling Will he never had to do anything he wasn't ready for, but eventually, Will’s curiosity and his growing love for Chance had won out. Even though that first time had been a struggle against his memories, it had been the warmth that changed everything; Chance was alive and burning with a heat that was the exact opposite of the Upside Down’s cold, and having the power to choose this, to be the one in control of the pace and the depth, had turned a source of fear into a source of power.
Chance stayed braced against the door, his knuckles turning white as he leaned his weight into the wood, his shadow stretching long over Will as he towered over him, but as the rhythm Will established began to take hold, Chance finally broke. He took one hand down from the door, his arm trembling slightly as he dove his fingers into Will’s hair to grip the soft locks at the back of his head, pulling him closer as a low, guttural groan was ripped from his throat and echoed off the bathroom walls. There was no hesitation in Will's touch, only the quiet, dangerous confidence of someone who knew every shortcut to making Chance’s breath hitch and his composure crumble, and the sound of the room changed instantly, the muffled thumping from downstairs being overtaken by the wet, rhythmic slide and the shallow, frantic gasps of Chance’s breath as he struggled to maintain his footing.
Will was meticulous, his movements purposeful as he targeted the specific rhythms he knew Chance couldn't resist, watching the way Chance’s head fell forward, his forehead coming to rest against the back of the hand that was still braced firmly on the door. Every low, broken sound that escaped Chance’s throat felt like a victory to Will, a confirmation that even though they'd done this a hundred times before, the impact was never any less devastating. Will could feel the tension building in Chance’s legs, the way his muscles were coiling like a spring, and just as he felt Chance begin to stiffen, the other boy’s breath hitching in a way that signaled he was reaching his limit, Will pulled back.
He didn't want it to end there, on the floor in the quiet; he wanted to be wrapped around Chance, to feel the full, crushing weight of their connection as it happened. Will rose slowly, his knees unfolding until he was standing eye-to-eye with Chance, his gaze never wavering even as he felt the other boy’s heavy, uneven breath fanning across his face. The look they shared in that moment was one mutual possession that didn't need a word to be understood, a silent agreement that the game was over. Chance was looking at him with a mix of desperation and awe, his hand still tangled in Will's hair as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes searching Will's for any sign of hesitation before he moved to take what they both wanted.
Chance shifted his weight, his bare feet sliding slightly on the smooth, damp tile as he fought for a solid footing, and he reached out to hook his thick, muscular arms under Will’s thighs, hoisting him up with a low, grunt of effort that vibrated through both of them. Will immediately wrapped his legs around Chance’s waist, locking his ankles behind the small of the other boy’s back to anchor himself as he was pressed firmly against the solid, painted wood of the linen closet door once more. The sound of the muffled thud as Will’s back hit the door seemed to echo in the small space, and Chance held him there, using the weight of his own body to keep Will pinned securely against the wood so he wouldn't slip even as the humidity made their skin slick.
With one hand hooked firmly under Will’s thigh to keep him hoisted and steady, Chance reached down between them with his other hand, his fingers trembling with the effort of his own restraint as he guided himself to the right spot, and Will let out a sharp, involuntary gasp when he felt the broad, blunt head of Chance’s cock begin to glide and press against his entrance. The pressure of Chance’s bare chest crowding into his own was the only thing keeping them both upright, pinning Will so securely against the linen closet door that the wood seemed to moan in protest before they’d even begun to move.
The contrast of the cool air in the room and the searing heat of Chance’s naked body was almost too much to handle, and Will’s head fell back against the door, his eyes rolling shut as he waited for the first, deep thrust to anchor him. He could feel the muscles clenching in the arm holding him up and the steady, frantic pounding of their hearts against each other's ribs, and for a second, the rest of the world—the party, the music, the risk of being caught—simply ceased to exist.
As the need became a jagged, physical pressure that neither of them could contain, Chance didn’t wait this time. He dragged his cock slowly across the sensitive skin, and Will felt the slick, searing heat of Chance’s precum leaving a distinct, wet trail against his skin—a reminder of just how much Chance wanted him—and the feeling of that moisture coating him made Will’s hips jerk forward in a mindless, desperate plea for more. Chance leaned in, his teeth grazing Will's ear as he pushed just the broad head of himself inside, letting the heavy, blunt weight of him stretch Will’s entrance for a staggering second before he slowly, torturously pulled back out.
Will let out a low, frustrated sound, his eyes snapping open in confusion, but Chance only used the movement to smear more of the hot, slick moisture over Will’s opening, the friction making Will’s skin tingle with electricity. When Chance began to slip the head of his cock back inside for a second time, teasing the edge of Will’s resolve, he started to pull away again, but Will didn't let him.
His legs tightened around Chance’s waist like a vice, his ankles locking so hard it probably bruised, and he dug his blunt fingernails into the damp, tensed muscles of Chance’s bare shoulders to pull him flush against his chest. "Don't you fucking dare," Will hissed, his voice a raw, jagged command. "Fuck me. Now."
The tension snapped instantly, and Chance let out a dark, guttural groan and drove forward with a single, powerful thrust that buried him completely inside Will in one heavy, seamless motion.
The impact was so sudden that Will’s vision blurred, a sharp, broken moan tearing out of his throat that was a dizzying mix of sharp pain and overwhelming pleasure. It was a heavy, demanding invasion of heat that filled Will up so well it made his eyes roll back in his head and his fingers claw into the hard muscles of Chance’s back. Chance let out his own low, choked sound, his jaw clenching tight as he felt the tight, squeezing heat of Will’s body clamping down around him, and he stayed perfectly still for a moment, his forehead dropping onto Will’s shoulder as he fought to find his own breath and let Will's muscles adjust to the sudden, staggering fullness.
The sensation was a deep, relentless weight that made the noise of the party outside the door completely disappear, leaving nothing but the sound of the blood rushing in Will's ears and the sharp, gasping breaths they were both fighting for in the stifling bathroom air. Will’s back was pinned firmly into the solid, white-painted wood of the linen closet door, which let out a single, sharp creak under the sudden, heavy force of their combined weight as Chance braced them both against it. The door held firm, but Will could feel the vibration of Chance's chest against his own, and the throbbing of his cock inside him.
Will’s breath was hitching in a jagged, syncopated rhythm, his legs trembling where they were locked around Chance’s waist as he waited for the initial shock of the entry to fade into a dull, pulsing ache. He could feel every inch of Chance inside him, a presence so broad and blunt and he buried his face in the crook of Chance’s neck, his hot breath ghosting over the other boy's skin.
"Move," Will finally managed to gasp out, the single word a broken, breathless command that seemed to shatter whatever was left of Chance's restraint.
The single word was the only permission Chance needed, and he didn't waste another second of the silence. He began to move with a brutal, single-minded focus, his thrusts coming hard and fast in a rhythmic, crashing collision that made the small space feel like it was shrinking around them, the slap of skin on skin and the wet sound of Chance thrusting in and out filled the room.
Will buried his face in the crook of Chance’s neck, his teeth grazing the salt-slicked skin there as he tried to muffle the loud, broken cries that were being forced out of him by the intensity of the contact. Every slide of skin against skin felt like a bolt of lightning, and Will could feel the way Chance’s muscles tensed and bunched under his fingers, a landscape of raw strength that was anchoring him to the present moment even as his mind threatened to drift away into the blinding white noise of pure sensation.
The heat in the room was cloying, the scent of their shared sweat and the floral soap making the air feel like a solid thing, but Will didn't care about anything other than the way Chance was filling him up and the raw energy of the connection that was burning through both of them. It was in the middle of this synchronization that Will’s head fell back against the wood, his eyes drifting upward until they landed on the large mirror directly behind Chance’s head, and he saw their reflection clearly for the first time in the flickering, lemon-yellow light.
He saw the way his own body was arched in a mask of raw desperation, his skin flushed a deep, telltale pink and his fingers digging into Chance’s shoulders with white-knuckled intensity, and the sight of himself looking so completely overtaken was enough to make his breath hitch in his throat. Chance must've felt the sudden shift in Will’s focus or saw the way his eyes were darting toward the glass, because even with his back to the mirror, he knew exactly what Will was looking at. He let out a low, knowing huff of air against Will's neck, his grip on Will's thigh tightening until it was almost painful as he used his weight to pin Will even more firmly against the rattling wood of the closet door.
Without breaking the punishing rhythm of his lower body, Chance reached up to grip Will’s chin with firm, steady fingers, forcing Will’s head back so that he had no choice but to lock eyes with his own reflection in the glass rather than hiding his face in Chance’s neck. "You like seeing yourself like this, don't you, baby? Look at yourself," Chance growled, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that sent a fresh wave of heat through Will’s entire body.
Will’s moans began to crest and break louder against the tiled walls, the sound of his own pleasure echoing back at him from the vanity. Chance leaned in closer, his lips bruising against Will's ear as he watched the way Will's mouth hung open in a dazed, frantic gasp. "Louder, Will, let them fucking hear you," Chance hissed, his thrusts becoming more deliberate, more punishing. "Let the whole house hear how pretty you scream when I'm deep in you. I want every one of them to know exactly who's making you sound like this."
Will let out a high, thin whimper at the thought, his eyes wide and fixed on the mirror as he watched the way Chance’s sculpted ass flexed and his hips drove forward again and again. "You want them to hear? You want them to know you're in here getting wrecked against a door?" Chance prompted, his voice dropping into a dark, possessive growl. "You want them to know you're mine? That I'm the only one who can ruin you like this?"
Will couldn't even form words anymore, his response reduced to a series of desperate, rhythmic whimpers that only got louder as he watched the reflection of Chance’s back muscles working, the sight of them tangled together making the reality of it impossible to ignore. He watched in the glass as Chance’s hand stayed firm on his chin, forcing him to witness the way his body was being rearranged by the force of the older boy's hunger.
"Go on, watch how well you take me, baby," Chance urged, his pace increasing until the linen closet door was rattling violently on its hinges, a metallic clatter that felt like it should be audible to the entire house. "Watch how stretched out you are with me inside you and imagine someone walking in right now. Tell me you wouldn't want them to see exactly who’s fucking you like this."
Will’s eyes were fixed on the glass, wide and glazed with a frantic sort of hunger. He watched the way his body was arched and the way Chance’s muscles worked, but he found himself desperately wishing he could see more. He wanted to see the exact point where they were joined; he wanted to witness Chance’s cock sliding in and out of him at that punishing, relentless pace, seeing the way his hole was being stretched and filled to the brim.
The thought of it was a gasoline fire in his mind—the dark, electric idea of the door suddenly swinging open and some rando from the party just standing there, frozen in the hallway as they watched Will getting wrecked so deeply and thoroughly by a boy they all thought they knew. He knew with a frantic, bone-deep certainty that if someone actually did walk in, Chance wouldn't be able to stop. He pictured Chance just looking back over his shoulder with those dark, possessive eyes and keeping right on going, his body too locked into the rhythm to do anything but continue driving into Will while the person stood paralyzed in the doorway.
Will’s mind spiraled, imagining the witness being unable to look away, their eyes glued to the sight of Will being completely undone and shattered against the wood. He wondered if they'd get turned on by the raw, primal sound of them, picturing the stranger's hand dropping to their own jeans as they started to touch themselves, getting off on the sheer, reckless intensity of what Chance was doing to him. The idea that they were so wrapped up in each other that the rest of the world could literally walk in and watch them finish was his final straw.
The mental image of being a spectacle for someone else to crave while Chance claimed him so violently, combined with the crushing physical friction, was too much to bear. Will’s head fell back against the wood, a strangled, high-pitched cry breaking from his lips as his climax hit him like a physical blow, his body shuddering with the sudden, messy release of his own cum pulsing out and coating their stomachs.
He was still trembling, his breath coming in shallow, dazed hitches, when he felt the rhythm shift. Chance’s movements faltered for a split second, his muscles locking as he prepared to pull back, his intent clear in the way he started to shift his weight away to avoid leaving any evidence behind.
But Will wouldn't let him go.
With a sudden, fierce surge of strength, Will locked his legs even tighter around Chance’s waist and simultaneously clenched down around him with a desperate, crushing internal grip that made it impossible for Chance to retreat. He dug his fingernails deep into the damp, tensed skin of Chance’s shoulders, dragging them down his back in long, stinging lines that left raw, angry marks in their wake as he anchored him in place. " Cum inside me," Will gasped, his voice a broken, frantic hiss as he hauled Chance back in, pinning him flush against his chest so there wasn't a single inch of space left between them. "Need you to fill me up."
The demand was the final blow to Chance’s restraint, and he let out a low, feral sound that was half-sob and half-growl as he drove forward one last time, burying himself as deep as he could possibly go. The force of that final, bottoming thrust slammed Chance’s cock directly against Will’s prostate while Will was still tightly clenched around him. The combination of the sharp, pain, the overwhelming pleasure, and the impact of the collision was too much for Will's body to handle. Will’s body jerked violently in Chance’s arms, a loud, shattered moan tearing out of him as he came again, his vision going white as he felt the first hot, rhythmic pulse of Chance finally letting go inside him.
The sensation was startlingly intense, a series of deep, surging jolts of heat that radiated from the center of them and shot straight up Will’s spine. It was a heavy, liquid warmth that filled him to the limit, making the friction of their bodies feel suddenly anchored, and Will squeezed his eyes shut as he focused on the internal rhythm of it. He was never going to get over how fucking good it felt to feel Chance cumming inside him, that hot, thick pressure being the only thing he wanted to feel for the rest of his life. Each pulse was a sharp, direct throb that Will could feel deep in his own gut, a physical release that made Chance’s entire lower body twitch and buck against him. With every hot, heavy spurt, the violent jerk of Chance’s hips drove his cock even further home, forcing the cum deeper into Will’s body in a way that made Will’s breath hitch in a broken sob.
As the last of the tremors finally ebbed away, Chance slumped forward, his weight pressing Will firmly against the linen closet door as he buried his face in the crook of Will’s neck, his chest heaving as he fought for air. They stayed like that for a long, quiet minute, both of them shaking and drenched in sweat, with nothing but the sound of their ragged, overlapping breaths filling the small bathroom while the muffled bass of the party continued to thrum beneath their feet.
As he regained his composure, Chance reached up, his large hand cupping the side of Will’s face with the steady, quiet softness that always followed the heat. His thumb traced the line of Will’s cheekbone in a slow, rhythmic motion that felt like he was trying to ground himself. Will tilted his head into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut as he soaked in the familiar, unshielded warmth of the moment, and for a few seconds, the anchored feeling of being joined was the only thing that felt real.
Will found himself wishing they had more time, his mind drifting to those rare, stolen afternoons in Chance's bedroom. He remembered the times they'd just stayed like this for what felt like hours, Chance remaining deep inside him long after the fire had cooled, both of them too relaxed and sated to even think about moving. In those moments, the silence wasn't a ticking clock but a soft, heavy blanket, and the feeling of being one single, still unit was the only thing that mattered. They'd just lie there, limbs tangled and breathing synchronized, neither of them wanting to break the connection or lose the internal heat that made everything else feel small.
But here, in the humid air of a bathroom while a party roared just a few feet away, they didn't have the luxury of basking in the afterglow. The reality of the ticking clock was a physical weight, a sharp reminder that they had masks to put back on and stories to tell. Chance leaned in then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the tip of Will's nose and then to his forehead, his grip on Will's hip tightening for one last, possessive squeeze before he finally, reluctantly, began to move.
The separation was a slow and sticky process that made Will’s skin prickle with the sudden rush of cool air, and he let out a low, involuntary whimper as his feet finally touched the cold tile floor. As Chance fully withdrew, the heavy, internal pressure vanished, replaced by the warm, thick sensation of Chance’s cum slowly beginning to leak and run down the insides of Will's thighs. The feeling was a visceral, unmistakable reminder of what they'd just done, the liquid heat tracing slow, wet paths against his flushed skin, and Will’s legs felt so much like water that he had to reach out and steady himself against the edge of the sink counter while he watched Chance with a dazed, happy sort of exhaustion.
Chance turned to reach for a towel, and as he did, the yellow light of the bathroom caught the stark, angry lines carved into the skin of his back. Will’s breath hitched, his eyes widening as he saw the evidence of his own desperation, long, red welts that stood out against Chance’s tan skin, some already beginning to puff with a slight, raised heat.
"Oh, God," Will whispered, his voice trembling as he reached out a tentative hand. He let his fingertips ghost over the marks, the skin there feeling feverishly hot under his touch, and a sharp jolt of memory from the moment he’d come flashed through his mind. "Chance, I'm sorry... I haven't done that in a few months. I didn't mean to scratch you that hard."
Chance paused, looking back over his shoulder at his own reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark and heavy with a lingering, smoldering heat that hadn't quite faded. He let out a low, huffed breath that was almost a laugh, but there was nothing mocking about it. "Don't you fucking apologize for that," Chance murmured, his voice dropping back into that gravelly, possessive register as he turned around to face Will. He stepped back into Will's space, trapping him against the counter once more, his eyes searching Will’s face with an intensity that made Will’s heart hammer against his ribs. "I like having them. I like knowing exactly how hard you had to hold onto me."
A sudden, electric flash of heat surged between them, a silent acknowledgment that if they had even ten more minutes, they’d be right back against that door, but the muffled shout of someone laughing in the hallway outside acted like a bucket of ice water. Chance let out a long, grounding breath, the tension in his jaw clenching as he forced himself to step back. "We don't have the time," he muttered, more to himself than to Will, his hand lingering on Will's hip for one more second before he finally reached for the washcloth to start cleaning them up.
He began to clean Will with a dedicated, focused tenderness that Will had come to expect and crave as much as the heat itself, carefully wiping away the mess that had trailed down Will's legs. Will leaned back against the counter, his hands resting on Chance’s broad, damp shoulders for balance, and he watched the familiar, steady movement of Chance’s hands with a sense of profound, quiet gratitude. Once the quiet care was finished, Chance let out another long, grounding breath and stood up, reaching for his jeans on the floor with the kind of practiced ease that came from months of doing exactly this.
The spell of the last hour didn't so much break as shifted into a different, more familiar gear, and Will followed suit by reaching for his own clothes. They moved around each other in the cramped room with a silent, easy coordination, a routine they’d perfected in locker rooms and the cramped backseats of cars until it was second nature. Will fumbled slightly with his t-shirt, his fingers still feeling a little buzzy, and he let out a short, huffed breath of frustration until he felt Chance’s hands settle over his own.
"Here, let me," Chance whispered, his voice steady and warm as he easily helped Will pull the fabric down, his touch lingering on Will's chest for just a second longer than necessary. He smoothed the collar of the shirt with a quick, affectionate pat, a small smirk playing on his lips that was meant only for Will. "You look good, baby," Chance murmured, his hand dropping from Will's chest to give his ass a firm, playful squeeze.
The sudden pressure made Will’s breath hitch, the contact making him acutely aware of the pleasant, heavy soreness blooming deep in his muscles from the way Chance had just been fucking him against the door. It was a grounding heat that made Will’s stomach flip, a lingering ache that felt like a secret he was carrying out into the hallway. Will let out a soft, breathless puff of a laugh, turning his head to shoot Chance a mock-indignant look that was betrayed by the dazed glow still lingering in his eyes.
"You're a menace," Will teased, his voice still a little wrecked and airy as he stepped back into Chance's space instead of heading for the door. Chance just grinned, that sharp, knowing look returning to his face as he hooked his thumbs into the loops of Will’s jeans and yanked him flush against his chest again.
"Yeah, but I'm your menace," Chance countered, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that Will could feel against his own ribs. He let his forehead rest against Will’s for a second, their shared breath mingling in the small space, the playful edge softening into something much more solid. They stood there for a final, heartbeat-long moment, the bass from the party downstairs vibrating through the soles of their feet, until Chance eventually pulled back just enough to tilt Will’s head up with a gentle finger under his chin. Chance leaned in then, claiming Will’s lips in a kiss that was slow, deep, and heavy with a quiet weight that felt exactly like saying I love you without ever having to break the silence.
"Okay, go find your friends before they start searching for you, bunny," Chance murmured, the nickname rolling off his tongue with a natural, easy fondness. Will let out a bright, airy giggle at the name, reaching up to playfully bat Chance's hand away from his waist. Will took a small step toward the bathroom door, but before he reached for the handle, he turned back around and surged forward to catch Chance’s lips in one last, sweet kiss.
"I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?" Will whispered against his mouth. Chance just nodded, a slow and steady movement of his head as he watched Will finally pull open the door and slip out into the hallway, leaving Chance alone in the quiet, humid room to pull his own mask back into place before heading downstairs.