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Mike knows he’s not a girl. He doesn’t want to be a girl.
It started when he first saw women’s lingerie when he was a teenager. It was an accident. He was stunned, but more intrigued than uncomfortable. The incident stuck out in his mind. It wasn’t because he was imagining what it would look like on a woman. Though he did use that incident to convince himself it was because he liked women. Spoiler alert: Mike Wheeler does not like women.
Then, these thoughts persisted when he grew out his hair. He used to brush it and braid it. All in the privacy of his room, obviously. He used to want to dye it bright colors. What would he look like with blond waves? Blue jagged edges? A fiery orange mohawk?
Then came the gay thoughts. There were a lot of those. They were unambiguous and explicit. He wasn’t stupid. He knew why he had those thoughts. It was just easier to place blame on the easiest target, his best friend who he had no idea was undergoing the exact same internal battle. Lashing out and projecting onto Will has to be one of his biggest regrets.
So, Mike cut his hair. He never tried to dye it bright colors. He bound himself in drab polo shirts and khakis. Boring boring boring. He dimmed himself as if that could change the fundamental thing that was wrong with him.
Mike kept himself caged. But freedom was within his grasp because he and Will made a plan to work lame jobs in Hawkins for a year to save up—and take a much needed break from school after a chaotic tenure at Hawkins High—because they wanted to move out of state and start fresh, but not completely fall flat on their faces financially. So, like Jonathan, they took a gap year, and chose NYU.
It didn’t take any time at all for everything to bubble over once he broke free of containment. Nobody in the city gave a fuck if he wanted to grow out his hair or wear bright colors. Hell, he even pierced his ears. He and Will bet each other they wouldn’t be able to go through with getting their ears pierced. They ended up going to get it done together, and Mike is so glad they did because they look totally punk rock. Mike’s parents are gonna freak out when they see him over the holidays.
He started living, embracing color and whimsy, because Will showed him the playbook. Living, laughing, goofing off.
Oh yeah, and fucking.
Long story short: they’re boyfriends now. It took them about a month of living together to finally explode all over each other, literally and figuratively. Makes sense it happened so quickly because all they could afford was a one bedroom and that’s really all they needed to finally break the years of aching tension and consummate their new life of freedom in Vallaki.
Back to the subject at hand.
Mike is not a girl and he doesn’t want to be a girl. But there has always been something drawing him to femininity. This is New York City. He’s seen many characters out and about. Men in heels and skirts. Some of them in full faces of makeup. They sure aren’t in Hawkins anymore.
Mike wants to explore.
So, here he is, focused in front of a glittering display at Bloomingdale’s, a random pit-stop on his way to meet his boyfriend after he gets off his shift at the nearby art supply store.
Eyeshadow. Lip gloss. Mascara. Lipstick. For some reason, it’s the lipstick that piques his curiosity the most. Dusty Rose. Strawberry Shortcake. Matte Ruby. Poppy Love. Scarlet Siren. There are so many to choose from. Mike swallows.
This is silly, right? It’s not like he’s gonna wear this in public. Why would he get this if he’s not gonna use it? It’s a waste of money and he and Will are already broke-as-fuck college students.
But Mike wants to explore.
He’s come a long, long way from suffocating under the weight of crippling self-hate. He and Will have been fucking shamelessly for months. A few weeks ago, Will fucked him so good that he cried after from how incredible it felt, then felt so emotionally raw that he finally confessed to Will that he loved him. Then, Will did the same, then they cried some more and sucked each other’s dicks on and off for like an hour and a half. It’s been a massively hugely gay several months. So, it’s safe to say the self-hate has been tamped down to a tiny little stump.
Despite this incredible arc of character development, Mike kinda feels embarrassed as hell purchasing the lipstick. Yet the shame is far quieter than the call of the Scarlet Siren. It’s bold and bright and he can’t leave without buying it. The decision was made as soon as he laid eyes on the tube of wonders. Dammit, he earned this.
He has nothing to be ashamed of. It’s just makeup. It’s not drugs. He shouldn’t be embarrassed. They are not in fucking Hawkins anymore. And it’s the nineties. Times have changed and so has he.
Even though he knows all of this and he’s come so, so far, he finds himself keeping the tube of lipstick secret from Will. When he greets Will with a loving smile after his shift, the Scarlet Siren stays hidden in his jacket pocket.
He waits until he's home alone. The lipstick has been burning a hole in the little hiding place in his sock drawer. Will isn’t gonna be home for another hour. Now is his chance.
He kinda feels like he’s doing something really, really bad. He shouldn’t feel this way anymore. He’s sexually liberated. Will eats his asshole like a five-course meal. They aren’t in Hawkins anymore. It's the nineties. Despite what he knows, Mike’s chest is in full drum solo mode as he pulls out the tube of Scarlet Siren from its secret place. It’s now or never.
Mike hurries to their bathroom and flips on the light switch. He tousles his hair and it falls in waves to one side of his face. It’s jaw-length. Will really likes his hair long like this. He hesitates before uncapping the shiny rose-silver tube. The cap pops off and he lays eyes on the vibrant red for the first time since he bought it. It’s much more electric than he remembers.
With a shaky hand, Mike brings the tip to his bottom lip and drags the color across. Whoa. That’s really red. He’s breathing hard as he fills his lips with the pigment. He’s never done anything like this before, obviously, so he doesn’t color all the way in the lines. Will would be much better at this, but the thought of Will catching him like this makes him pink in the face.
Even though it’s a little messy in places, he did an okay job. Mike caps the tube, breathing deeply through his nostrils. The man in the mirror looks back at him with wide, dark eyes (fat pupils, because yeah, this is turning him on, kind of a scary amount, kind of a grotesque amount). He parts his Scarlet Siren lips. Holy shit. This is making him insanely hard right now.
Mike pulls down his pants and pumps some of his face moisturizer into his hand and jerks himself off to the Scarlet Siren, forehead pursed, mouth open in red hot circle. He comes in like thirty seconds, splattering between his fingers.
Okay, what the fuck.
He tampers with all the evidence. He washes and re-washes the Scarlet Siren down the drain, burning with shame, Mike’s final foe that he thought he once defeated.
Later, Will comes home to make dinner and snuggle with him on the couch, entertained by the new episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. Mike is feeling frisky, so he crouches on the floor and works Will’s cock in his mouth like it’s a competition and he’s gonna take home the gold. He closes his eyes as Will’s strong hand tangles his hair, seeing electric red. Dirty, dirty, wrong. In his mind’s eye, his lips are siren red, striping Will’s cock with it as he bobs his head.
“Fuck,” Will whines, “I’m gonna come.”
Greedily, Mike swallows around Will, shaking with his own release against his palm. Will’s back arches as he finishes with a moan, and Mike swallows every bit of it. Wow, I am a total freak, he thinks. He just came in his pants to the mental image of his scarlet lips choking Will’s dick.
“God. What was that…technique?” Will asks, in between pants, once Mike lets Will go from his mouth.
Mike furrows his brow. “Uh. It’s called head.”
Will rolls his eyes. “You were doing something different this time. It was crazy. Jesus.”
“I was really into it, I guess,” Mike says, face hot, still fixated on the image of his scarlet lips around Will. Such a twisted fantasy.
It’s kind of too twisted. Because the Scarlet Siren is infecting pretty much all of his intimate moments, especially with Will. When Will batters his throat, it’s the Scarlet Siren. When he hops on Will’s dick, it’s the Scarlet Siren. Oh, and when he’s home alone, all he can think about is masturbating in front of their mirror to the Scarlet Siren. So he does. He does it a lot.
It was only a matter of time for the inevitable to happen.
“Mike.” Will steps into their living room.
Mike jabs at the controller of their Nintendo to dodge one of Donkey Kong’s hurtling barrels. “Hm?”
“Can you pause that, please?” Will sounds concerned. He sits beside Mike on their couch, brow tight.
“What?” Mike asks, confused. Also concerned, because usually Will is usually as cool as a cucumber, even when Mike is stressed about money or their nosy neighbor who seems to not understand why two men would share a one-bedroom apartment. It’s called being gay, Beverly. It’s the nineties, Beverly.
“I don’t—I’m not—” Will is flustered. He searches for the right words. “You know I love you no matter what, right?”
“Of course,” Mike replies, growing uneasy due to Will’s demeanor. “I love you no matter what, too.”
“You can talk to me, you know? About anything.” Will is beating around the bush. “You know. If you have, maybe... feelings about your gender. I’m here for you.”
Oh, Jesus. It happened. Mike flushes in mortification, ducking his head and looking away. “You found the thing,” he mutters, lava-hot with embarrassment.
“I was just gonna borrow a pair of socks. I wasn’t snooping,” Will says. “No matter what…changes that happen. It won't change how I feel about you. We can do this together,” he finishes, like a vow. He truly means every word.
Jesus Christ. “I am not transexual. I’m not a girl and I’m not trying to be a girl,” Mike says, bristling. He isn’t trying to be defensive but that’s how it comes out. Mostly, he’s just fucking mortified Will found his lipstick. The lipstick that gives him a mega boner just thinking about it. It’s the nineties. Why can’t he just jerk off in the mirror wearing lipstick? Is that illegal? He’s a grown man and should be able to masturbate how he pleases. So why is he so embarrassed about it?
Will blinks, reorienting his thoughts with the new information. He doesn’t know what to ask. “Is it…for fun?”
“Yeah. You could say that.” God, why is this so hard? Will is the one person he shares everything with.
But Will does not understand what he’s insinuating. Mike sighs, roiling with anxiety.
“It kind of…” Mike looks down. “Turns me on.”
Will’s eyes go round. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
The room falls silent.
Will asks a follow up. “So do you like to…”
“I put on the lipstick and then I jerk off in the mirror when you’re not here, yeah,” he blurts. He’s still stupidly holding the Nintendo controller, so he sets it down. “Sorry you’re dating a pervert.”
“Mike.” Will is serious. “You’re not a pervert.”
Mike laughs. “That’s funny.”
“You’re not. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to judge you. I just didn’t expect this. I thought you were like, going through a transition.”
“Well, I’m not.”
The room is silent again.
“When did you start?”
Mike swallows around nothing. “Like a month ago. It’s kind of become a problem.”
“How is this a problem?” Will asks, again, so earnest.
“Because. It’s like a fetish at this point. I feel like a degenerate.”
“Mike!”
Mike glares at him. “You’re sure looking at me like I am.”
“That’s not what I’m thinking at all. If anything, I’m sad. I wish you felt comfortable sharing this with me.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” Will’s green eyes dart all over Mike’s flushed face. Down at his lips. What Will says next totally throws him for a loop. “I bet you look really nice with it on.”
Just like that, the air in the room changes direction. Mike’s heart pounds madly, and the siren’s call is beautiful music. Fuck me, would Will actually like it, too?
“I dunno,” Mike mutters. He’s ashamed, yes, but Will is giving him that look, the one that makes Mike’s knees draw together and his dick twitch.
“I didn’t, uh,” Will’s voice cracks. Oh, Will is definitely getting horny. Fuck yes. “I didn’t take the cap off. What color is it?”
Mike’s whole body is buzzing. “Scarlet Siren.”
“So, it’s red?” Will asks, breathing hard.
Oh god yes please god. “Very red.”
“But you like the way it looks.” Will doesn’t ask this time.
“Yeah,” Mike nods. “I could show you. But try not to laugh,” he says, twisting with nerves.
If Will thinks he looks like a clown, Mike just might cry. He feels vulnerable, sharing his deep dark fantasy for the first time in his life. But he’s sharing it with Will, and Will is the one person on the planet who he can count on to not make fun of him about something like this. Doesn’t mean Will is actually gonna find it as hot as Mike does. There’s only one way to find out.
“I promise you I won’t laugh,” Will says. He picks up the remote control and powers off Mike’s game.
Mike stands, contorting his T-shirt with anxious fingers. “Okay. Just stay here.”
Will nods, trying to conceal a thick swallow.
Mike pulls open his sock drawer and retrieves his lipstick. In the bathroom, he carefully applies the color. Somehow, it has gotten even brighter. When he’s satisfied, and half-hard, Mike grabs a tissue to clean the wobbly edge from his bottom lip. He wants to look perfect. He steps back in their living room and can’t help but duck his head.
Mike forces himself to look up at Will.
Will is gob smacked, looking back at Mike with such shock that he might explode with it.
“I know it’s too much,” Mike blurts, face hot with embarrassment. “But yeah. I just bought it to try something out. I would never wear it outside.”
“You look incredible,” Will tells him, unwavering.
The admission brings the scarlet from his lips down to his chest.
“I-I still can’t believe it,” Will whispers.
“What?” Mike doesn’t understand.
“That you’re mine.”
Oh my god. Mike’s heart leaps as fast as he does into Will’s lap, bracketing his long thighs over Will’s thick ones. Unhinged desire lights him from head to toe. They are breathing so hard, but they’ve barely touched each other. Will solves that dilemma by boldly pulling Mike down by the neck to kiss his electric red lips, immediately slipping his tongue inside because that’s where it belongs. Mike moans around it, grinding their groins together. Pulling back, Mike moans again at the faint red marks his wet kiss left behind. He wants to leave these marks all over every inch of Will’s perfect body.
“Gorgeous,” Will groans. He’s called him that before, but it hits differently like this. Mike dives in for another sloppy kiss, making his head spin like a merry-go-round.
“Ah,” Mike whines, when Will anchors him closer around his slight waist. Will’s hot kisses travel to his neck—ugh, fuck me, that’s so good—and his fingers crawl up his body to his mouth.
“Here,” Will murmurs once he pulls back to stare dazedly at Mike’s face, like he’s passing him a water bottle to drink. Only he’s sticking two fingers in Mike’s mouth, instead. Mike’s eyes widen as he sucks them down like peanut butter through a straw. Has he ever tasted something so delicious? There’s probably only one other thing he’d rather have in his mouth.
“Oh, Mike,” Will gasps, captivated by the sight and sounds.
“Mmm,” Mike nods, rocking their groins together and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise around Will’s fingers. They are shorter than his own but slightly thicker, like Will’s dick only it’s way thicker, fuck yeah.
Will is already a wreck. “Your mouth.” Not a question. More like an observation.
Mike pulls off. “Wanna fuck it?”
“Jesus Christ,” Will hisses. He nods, fumbling for his zipper between them with his free hand. But Mike slides to the floor and takes care of it in a flash.
Mike has, for a fact, never been this turned on in his life. He roughly pulls down Will’s pants as Will wriggles his bottom free from its confines. Because he has big plans, he pulls Will’s pants and underwear completely off, leaving his whole bare ass on their couch.
“God, your mouth,” Will repeats, and it’s crazy because Will sounds like he’s about to burst into tears. Even crazier considering Mike hasn’t even sucked his dick yet. Have you ever been this turned on, too?
Mike plays with Will’s tip, gripping the shaft and shamelessly absorbing the wild noises and contortions of Will’s face from above. Little teasing licks to his base, his balls, prying Will’s legs apart to access below to his taint, leaving behind a few faint splotches of red. So much evidence.
“Holy shit,” Will moans. A tear falls down the side of his face. Mike shudders, obsessed with it, and how incredible this exploration has been for them both already. The possibilities are impossibly infinite.
“Your mouth,” Will babbles, as Mike continues his torment. Enough teasing. Will wants his mouth and Mike is going to give it to him on a bright red platter. He takes Will deep because by now, he and Will have done this enough to be certified cocksuckers. They could probably put this on their résumés.
“Oh, god,” Will actually sobs, oh fuck yeah, this is everything. They connect eyes and Will’s loss of control manifests completely. He bucks his hips into Mike’s face, forcing his way into the part of his mouth that used to make him gag like a bitch. He must have leveled up, or maybe it’s the power of the siren that turns all his noises into filthy moans.
Will isn’t really holding back at all. No more words. He’s pulling and pushing Mike’s head like it’s one of his endurance exercises. Mike tastes the wax of the lipstick and all of Will’s sweet and salty Willness, along with the exquisite beating Will is giving his face.
The combination is deadly. He has to get some reprieve, and Will has it covered up here, bouncing his head like a basketball. It only takes a few tugs for Mike to come in his fist with a muffled squeal.
Incredibly, Will is already finishing, too. This has got to be the quickest blowjob he’s ever given him. Usually, Will warns him with a polite tap to his head. It was cute at first, but Mike kept telling him again and again that he’s only gonna want Will to make a mess in his throat so there is no use in warning him. Plus, Will always freezes before he orgasms. This time is no different, except Will’s strong hands aren’t being so polite. They pin Mike’s skull close as he flagrantly paints Mike’s esophagus, rough in a way Mike has been begging for since always, eyes wide and focused against Mike’s heavy-lidded ones.
“Fuck, that was insane,” Mike tells him, once his mouth is freed from Will’s iron grip. They are both panting like dogs.
Will can’t form words yet. He mops a shaky hand over his face.
“You really went for it,” Mike continues, petting Will’s delicious thighs.
Will trembles, pulling away from the sensation. Will gets so sensitive after he comes. Mike knows not to get too close to his groin, though, because Will might flip out. He sets his chin on Will’s knee.
“That was—are you okay?” Will asks finally.
“I’m fucking amazing, actually.” Had he known that putting on lipstick would finally get Will to use all his strength on him like that, he wouldn’t have tried to keep it a secret.
“Was I too rough?” Will sounds small. No, don’t do that. Be big, because you are.
“Not possible.” Mike pets Will’s thighs. Again, too sensitive. Will shudders.
“You just… look really nice in the lipstick,” Will tells him, staring at his mouth.
Mike cracks a soft smile. “Thanks. I kinda feel dumb for trying to hide it. Turns out, you’re a degenerate, too.”
Of course, Will knows he means it in jest. Will laughs and nods. “Yeah. Big time.”
The next few nights, they keep the Scarlet Siren in Mike’s sock drawer. They joked about it a few times, but to Mike’s disappointment, Will hasn’t brought up wanting him to put it on for more hot, degenerate sex. Which sucks, because Will really seemed like he really enjoyed himself. Maybe he got freaked out after thinking about it. Maybe it was too weird. Like, Will is gay. Maybe the lipstick was too girly for him.
Mike’s stomach sinks when he finds Will at home after class one day. Because there is no mistaking the shame on Will’s face. He’s literally curled up on the couch with his hands hugging his abdomen.
Mike swallows, setting his backpack down. “You okay?” He knows Will isn’t and he can guess why, but he still has to ask.
Will looks at him. “We should talk.”
God fucking dammit. Mike sits beside him, prickling with anxiety. “What is it?” he asks, trying to remain calm. You’re grossed out by me, aren’t you? Of course you don’t want me to put on lipstick like a girl. You like guys. You’d prefer me to be masculine.
“I did something. I’m sorry,” Will tells him, frowning.
“Sorry for what? What happened?” Mike is so confused, and scared.
Will sets a giant paper bag on their coffee table, looking totally miserable, like it’s a bag of dogshit or something. Mike didn’t see the bag at first, but clearly, this is what has Will unstrung. “I should have talked to you first. But I-I couldn’t help it. I was just thinking about myself and what I wanted. I’m sorry.”
Mike doesn’t understand. “What?”
“I should have returned it all or threw it in the trash but then that felt more deceptive—but that’s not really true, either. Because a huge a part of me really wanted you to see it anyway. In case you… liked it.”
Mike grabs the bag and stares at Will, waiting for permission. Because, what the fuck?
“Just open it.” Will’s face is scarlet.
Mike looks inside. Holy shit.
He pulls out the first thing that catches his eye. Shaving gel. He’s shaking. Disposable razors. Each new object makes his heartrate spike. Eyeshadow. Eyeliner. Mascara. Foundation. Blush. Contour. Five different lipsticks, the same brand as the one he bought. A whole set of makeup brushes. Hair cream. Scissors. Oh god. False eyelashes.
Then, there are the clothes.
Stockings: black, white, fishnets. Skirts: one red one, pleated and plaid, and another black one with a slit down the middle. Both are really short (wow, Will). Shirts, all black: a spaghetti strap tank top, a long-sleeved top made of netted lace, a blouse with puffy shoulders, a blouse without shoulders.
Tucked at the bottom is a smaller paper bag. Mike pulls it out. It’s jewelry. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets.
“What are the scissors for?” Mike asks, barely louder than the blood rushing in his ears.
“I miss your bangs,” Will mutters. He’s never seen Will like this. Ashamed and hopeful.
Will has another bag, but this time he opens its contents. Two boxes of shoes: chunky 3-inch heels with a little buckle around the ankle, one in black, and one in scarlet red.
“I know this is crazy. I’ll get rid of it all, I swear,” Will says, shaking his head.
Mike sets the box of shoes down and grapples Will’s face with both hands. “I love you so much,” he whispers, sealing his vow with a kiss. If we could get married right now, I’d wear all of this to our elopement.
Will smiles, melting with relief. “You don’t think it’s weird?”
“Are you kidding me? This is the best thing ever. I was freaking out all week because I thought you regretted what we did. I thought you wanted me to be, y’know, manly.”
“That’s crazy. I was totally losing my mind because of you in that lipstick. It was unbelievable. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Because you’re incredible. I mean, you’re incredible all on your own, but that was just… something else.”
Mike could die from euphoria right now. “Can I… can we use some of this stuff tonight?” And tomorrow and every fucking day.
Will nods, looking so in love with him. Mike eagerly grabs the shaving gel and razors. “Be right back.”
Mike has never shaved his legs before, but now that he’s doing it, he kind of really fucking likes it. With every stroke of the blade, he reveals endless stretches of pale, unblemished, bare skin. Because he’s curious, he shaves his armpits, too, and around his stomach and groin just a bit. He’s got a half-chub from the meticulous preparation, also because Will is just sitting there in the living room probably planning which outfit he wants to see him in to consummate their new adventure.
Will wants to trim his bangs, so he slips on an oversized T-shirt and goes back into the living room. Surely enough, Will has set out the outfit he gets to try first. Will chose the black lacey long-sleeved top, the spaghetti strap tank top, the red plaid skirt, white stockings, and the scarlet red pumps. Everything else is in the bag.
“I don’t have to cut your hair,” Will says.
“I want you to,” Mike replies, giddy with anticipation. “You can do whatever you want to it. We could dye it, too. I’m not picky.”
Will smiles bright like sunlight. “I’d love that. But I want to see you dressed up as soon as humanly possible,” he says, confidence building.
Mike tames the desire to immediately start tongue fucking each other, because Will wants to give him bangs. Will wants to dress him up. Mike sits on the dining chair that Will gestures towards. He pets his freshly shaved thighs, imagining Will doing the same. Soon.
Will comes close with the scissors and a comb. Will is in deep concentration as he makes careful snips of the scissors. Mike’s forehead tickles as his new bangs curl against it. Will trims the hair framing his face, too, then breaks out a hair dryer (he already had the thing ready, wow, he is so prepared) to blow dry and style Mike’s damp waves, finishing with some hair cream. When Will is done, he pecks a soft kiss to Mike’s mouth, and they both smile like idiots.
“You’ll get to see it when you’re dressed. You look amazing,” Will promises, kissing his cheek. Cutesy foreplay to a wild night of backbreaking fucking. Awesome.
“Fine by me.” Mike stares in eager excitement as Will gathers his palette of makeup. So many things to choose from. Whatever Will wants, goes.
Will gets to work. Foundation, blush, contour, fake lashes, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara. He blinks his lids against the new heaviness. Then, Will brings a pencil to his eyebrows. Mike didn’t even know that was a thing. Will really must have been doing his research. Then comes the lipstick. Did Will choose a new shade, or stick to the Scarlet Siren? Regardless of the color, Will is totally captivated by his work.
“Jesus Christ, Mike.”
“Am I pretty?” Mike teases. He has no idea what he looks like, but Will must have done a killer job because he’s practically wagging his tail.
“You’re a bombshell.”
Mike warms from the praise. Next comes the clothes. Mike doesn’t really want to admit it, but he’s nervous about this part. He’s skinny with broad shoulders, thin arms, and big hands. He isn’t exactly ready for the runway. What if he looks like a gangly idiot? What if he’s not sexy at all?
Will seems to sense his discomfort. “Do you like this outfit?” he asks, looking a little uncertain.
“I hope it fits. It’s nice,” he swallows.
“We don’t have to. You already look incredible.” Will is telling the truth because he’s pitching a major tent in his gym shorts.
“No, I wanna at least try it on.”
Will helps him strip, holding out his oversized shirt to keep his makeup neat (hopefully he isn’t so careful with the makeup later). Now naked, versus a fully clothed Will, Mike’s confidence spikes. He would literally dress in a banana costume if it turned Will on.
Will helps him with the tops: first the tank, then the lace one. They are both really snug. Will sneaks a grope over his waist, making his dick twitch some more. When the red plaid skirt comes on, and it fits perfectly, they’re both breathless. When the thigh-high white stockings adhere to his smooth skin, Mike’s cock misbehaves and tries to escape through the pleats of the skirt concealing it. Will has to get to his knees to snap on the chunky red pumps, eying Mike’s hidden erection. Lastly, Will helps him put on silver, dangling earrings and a black felt necklace that is more like a choker. He adds a ring on his long finger like they’re a bride and groom, then a few plastic bracelets to complete the look.
From his new, towering height, Will gapes up at him in awe.
“How do I look?” Mike asks shakily, holding his arms out. He looks down at the pumps and tips the toes together. He feels awkward trekking on this novel, untouched ground.
“Come here,” Will tells him dreamily, taking his hand. He leads them to the bedroom, his heavy heels thudding against the wooden floor, to where Will moved their body length mirror from their closet door and propped it up towards their bed. Will, you dog.
Mike stares at his reflection. First off, his face. Will made him look like a supermodel. He didn’t know he could look this attractive. The bangs are really fucking cute, curling with the product Will added. His done-up eyes are dark and striking, lashes fat with the extensions (holy shit) and the mascara. His skin is neat and porcelain, impeccably contoured and shaded. He recognizes the lipstick shade: Scarlet Siren. The rest of the outfit flows directly from it.
His silver earrings glitter and sway. The black choker captures his throat. The lacy top hugs his broad shoulders and flat chest, and has a narrowing effect on his arms, but not in a bad way. The skirt cinches his waist and flares out flatteringly, mimicking womanly curves just a bit, especially when he turns to the side and arches his back. His thigh-high white stockings leave him speechless, and the red heels make him want to hump a pillow until he passes out.
“Wow,” Mike finally says, not believing his eyes. “You have good taste.”
“How do you feel?” Will asks. In the mirror, Will looks like he wants to eat him alive.
“Really hot,” Mike breathes. Can you just jump me already?
Will answers his prayers. He comes up behind him, and because of the heels, he’s only tall enough to peer over Mike’s shoulder. Mike sighs and slumps like a ragdoll when Will’s warm hands snake around his waist. His hands massage Mike’s hips, then they go lower, beneath his skirt but not touching his raging hard-on—oh, Jesus—just rubbing the sides of his hips and the tops of his thighs. The calluses from Will’s palms caused by his weightlifting catches on the thin tights, making Mike draw his knees together.
“Beautiful,” Will groans, getting on his toes to tongue into his ear. Mike moans and reaches back to run his fingers through his hair. Taking matters into his own hands, Mike arches backwards and grinds his skirt-clad ass into Will’s hard cock. Will answers back by gripping his hips with a bruising strength and humping the space below his ass cheeks.
Before Mike’s moans can turn into words, Will regains control and pulls Mike backwards onto their bed. He arranges him on his hands and knees, facing the mirror. Mike almost comes from the sight alone. Will says nothing, transformed by need, as he strips completely and gets behind Mike to grip his ass with both hands. Then, he spits, dead center. Mike stares at himself as his face changes shape from supermodel to super whore, gasping against Will’s newfound aggression.
“Oh, god, please,” Mike moans, when Will starts to tongue fuck him into oblivion. He squirms as Will takes his time. You’re making me so wet. That might be too much to say out loud, so Mike keeps it tight inside as Will makes him looser and looser, his untouched dick tangled in the pleats of his skirt. As Will’s work continues, sweat beads on his forehead, making his freshly trimmed and styled bangs curl and stick together.
Mike has no idea how long it’s been; he just knows his arms are tired and his asshole is wet and ready. Rearrange my fucking organs.
Will gets to a stopping point and pulls back. He enters Mike with two fingers, fucking him easily with them.
“Look how wet you are,” Will says, like he’s lost his god damn mind.
Mike stares, wide-eyed, at Will in the mirror. He can’t believe Will would say something like that. “Y-yeah,” he nods, arching his back. “For you.”
Will’s glittering eyes widen. It was just what he needed to hear. He gets the lube and makes Mike nice and slick. Mike is so beyond ready to get railed right now.
But to his surprise, Will sits back against the headboard. Mike knows that look. Will wants him to ride him. Will’s face—in addition to being wet from eating him out—is simply: I want you to make yourself come.
When Mike crawls over and starts to straddle him, his electric red heels clunking against one another, Will just shakes his head.
“Other way,” Will tells him, gaze hot.
Oh. Will wants Mike to watch himself in the mirror as he rides his dick to completion. “Fuck,” Mike mutters, flushing with need. Mike complies, turning around and presenting Will with his back, and carefully bracketing his stockinged legs around Will’s hips.
He looks into the mirror. From Will’s face, hazy with desire, to his own: sweat-matted bangs, smokey eyeshadow, thick eyelashes, and rounded, fat, scarlet lips. Will looks so masculine, defined chest, arms, legs. Meanwhile, Mike looks the opposite of that. It’s making him crazy.
“Ready?” Will asks. He’s being genuine and it just makes him crazier.
Mike nods and raises himself, bracing forward on his hands. Thankfully, Will anchors him back towards his landing pad, otherwise this would not work because his skirt is hiding all the action. Will’s head breaches his wet hole.
“Fuck yes,” Mike groans, gasping as he impales himself. Will’s grip is commanding as he pulls him backward, deep and unyielding.
After waiting for his body to adjust to its favorite intrusion, Mike experiments with a few little hops, his dick flopping in the folds of the skirt. He adjusts his stockinged thighs to a better angle. Will groans in approval: good job.
Unforgettable, Mike thinks, as he stares at himself bouncing on Will’s lap. The angle is impeccable. He rolls his hips, relishing the friction on his prostate. His thighs burn so much but he’ll deal with the aftermath later, because he feels and looks incredible. The black waves of his hair spring with every movement. His dark eyes are wide and blown, framed by his neat eyebrows pinched in ecstasy. And his scarlet mouth—that’s exactly where Will is staring.
Mike fucks himself to exhaustion. It feels so good. Almost there. I’m gonna come just like this. The skirt tantalizes his straining, untouched dick, he’s almost there—
To his utter surprise, Will tells him to stop. Mike sobs, complying in dismay. But he’s only given a second to mourn his orgasm because Will forces him to his hands and knees without pulling out.
The new position turns Mike into a brainless idiot. He screams, clutching the foot of the bed as Will picks up the pace now that he has all the leverage, all the power. His mouth hangs open obscenely as Will brings him back to the edge again with rough, mechanical thrusts. No longer concerned about messing up his makeup, Mike buries his face in the sheet and begs Will to make him come.
The noise that claws its way out of Mike’s throat is absolutely horrifying, but it’s warranted, because Will’s incessant thrusts have turned him into a wild, little, needy animal. He finds his own eyes in the mirror. Apparently, he’s crying, because his mascara is running. Drool drips down his chin. He finds Will’s eyes in the mirror. Unmatched heat, raw and powerful, he’s unlocked a hidden innate sorcerer power. Mike comes. He shakes and cowers into the sheets, vision hazy with electric red. As he’s winding down from the insane high, he rocks with Will’s final thrusts. Paint me inside like you painted my face.
“Fuck,” Will hisses, hips stuttering and stopping. Will likes to finish when they are completely still, and Mike is obsessed with it, because he can literally feel Will’s dick throbbing.
Mike whines when Will eventually pulls out. No longer in sex beast mode, Will flops to the side, catching his breath and curling up like a cat. Mike falls on his stomach, unable to move just yet.
“I really like the bangs. You did a good job,” Mike mumbles, eyes darting all over Will’s face.
“Thanks. You look cute,” Will smiles, meaning it.
Mike has to laugh. After what they just did, the tame compliment is hilarious.
“What?” Will demands, still breathing hard.
“Nothing. You’re just so ‘you’, you know?” Mike loves him so much. “I love it when you’re you.”
“I love it when you’re ‘you’, too,” Will replies, eyes soft.
Mike sighs, finally able to breathe easily.