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It starts as a joke. They’re at the bar with their friends, getting ribbed for the hundredth time about how freakishly, happily monogamous they are—even the most smitten long-term gay couples they know cruise for thirds every now and then. “And you’re turning thirty,” Chris says, pouting. “Your best twink years are far behind you.”
Will rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his vodka soda. “I know,” he says, sarcastically. “I really missed my chance to get passed around at a party.”
It’s a joke. Everyone laughs, and Mike laughs along with them. But later that night, trailing his fingers absently up and down Will’s chest, curled up behind him in bed, Mike can’t get the idea out of his head.
“Did you ever wish you did?” he asks, as if they’re in the middle of a conversation.
“Hm?” Will says. He’s half asleep already, voice thick in his post-orgasm haze.
“Get… passed around. Have you ever… wanted to?”
Will turns his head, blinking at him in the dim light. They’re both still a little tipsy. “I don’t know,” he says. “It could be hot.” He searches Mike’s face, curious. “How would you feel about it, though?”
“I don’t know,” Mike says, honestly. Picturing Will at the center of an orgy makes his stomach twist with arousal and jealousy all at once. “It could be hot.”
“Hm,” Will says. He presses a soft, lazy kiss to Mike’s mouth. “Okay.”
The topic gets broached a few more times as the year winds to a close. When their friend Jacob teasingly asks if they want to come to the play party his roommate is throwing on New Years—I don’t know, babe, maybe this is our chance, hah. In heady, blissed-out whispers late at night, when Will sucks on Mike’s fingers as he rides him—do you wish you could have a dick in your mouth right now? At the bar, when some tall, buff guy offers to buy Will a drink—what do you think? Should we invite him to our orgy? It’s a joke. It’s all hypothetical, until suddenly it’s not, until it’s mid-January and Mike is drafting up a Craigslist personals ad on the desktop in their living room: Gay man ISO 3 fit, clean tops to help me give my boyfriend the best sex of his life for his 30th birthday.
Planning the party feels like the most high-stakes thing Mike has ever done, and he literally went to an alternate dimension to destroy a supernatural evil when he was sixteen. He interviews seven different guys. He cleans the apartment like a madman. He frets over what to wear. “I’m not cool enough to host an orgy,” he moans to Jacob in early March in the aisles of Duane Reade, frozen with indecision over how many different kinds of lube and condoms he should buy.
“No,” Jacob agrees. “You’re not.”
On March 22nd, he jolts awake at five in the morning, absolutely wired.
By the time Will rises bleary-eyed and pads into the kitchen at half past eight, Mike has deep-cleaned the grout in the bathroom, done the laundry, and prepared an elaborate breakfast feast.
“Happy birthday,” he says, pulling Will onto his lap on the kitchen chair, peppering him with kisses. There are balloons and a stack of small, messily-wrapped presents sitting next to Will’s plate of pancakes, a bowl of strawberries cut into hearts. Will smiles, nuzzling his face into Mike’s neck, still half asleep.
“Your pulse is going crazy,” he murmurs, kissing the vein.
“Yeah,” Mike laughs. “I might die before eight o’clock.”
“That would really suck,” Will teases, grinning against Mike’s jaw. He makes his way to his mouth, and they get lost in each other for a minute, slow, languid kisses that draw soft noises from their throats. Will pulls back, combing his fingers through Mike’s hair. “It’s gonna be great,” he says. “And if it isn’t, we just kick them out.”
“Yeah,” Mike says, nodding. He takes a deep breath. “I just want you to have the best birthday ever.”
One of Will’s birthday presents is a cell phone, and they spend most of the morning setting it up and checking out all the features. Some of their friends have had them for a few years, but on a comic artist and adjunct English professor’s salaries, it didn’t make sense for them until Nokia released a new, cheaper model in the fall. They text message with Dustin, who sends his birthday wishes from Seattle; they play Snake and Space Impact on the phone’s impossibly tiny screen; they mess around with the camera and capture about twenty blurry photos of their grey cat, Gandalf, as she bats a streamer toy around in the air. Mike is pretty sure the dick picture one of the guys who’s coming over later today emailed him was taken on a phone just like this. The future has truly arrived.
They while away the hours of the afternoon at the Whitney, Mike trailing Will through the new exhibition, thoroughly distracted. They meet up with Jonathan for a drink in the Village around four. When they get home, there are a slew of birthday messages on the answering machine: Joyce and Hopper calling from Montauk; Lucas and Max from LA; Will’s best friend from art school, Terry, who they’re seeing for dinner next week; Robin and her girlfriend Ellie from Northhampton; Steve and his three kids from Hawkins, the youngest of whom is still learning to talk, which makes for a pretty endearing and chaotic rendition of the “Happy Birthday” song. Mike takes his second shower of the day and puts on an excessive amount of deodorant, and then cedes the bathroom to Will to get ready. He’s setting out a bowl of chips when Will emerges into the kitchen in loose plaid boxers and a white t-shirt, hair damp.
“Did you… buy snacks?” Will asks, eyebrows raised. He smiles, looking around the pristine room.
“I don’t know,” Mike says helplessly. “Like, what’s the etiquette?”
“Probably not snacks,” Will says, grinning. He crosses the room and kisses him. His mouth tastes like spearmint toothpaste.
“You look so good,” Mike says, skirting his fingers under the hem of Will’s shirt.
Will shrugs, pleased. “It’s all coming off soon anyway,” he says. “Just figured I’d go with something comfortable.”
“I’m kind of bugging out,” Mike admits as he wraps his arms around Will’s waist, as if it’s not patently obvious.
“Me too,” Will says, which is a surprise, because he’s been cool as a cucumber all day. “I’m excited, but…”
“Yeah, me too,” Mike clarifies, just in case.
“It’s, like, so hot in my head, but I feel like it’s going to be so awkward at first,” Will says, looping his arms around Mike’s neck. “They won’t know how to touch me like you do.”
A little bubble of pride swells in Mike’s chest. “I guess I’ll have to show them how,” he says.
“Yeah,” Will says, swallowing, his eyes going dark at the prospect. “I guess you will.”
They’re kissing a little desperately up against the refrigerator when the doorbell rings, five minutes past eight.
Mike is pretty proud of the selection he ended up with. Stephen, 32, is a data engineer with a passion for mountain biking, 5’10” and lean, with wavy blonde hair. Aaron, 29, is a banker by day and a DJ on the weekends, 6’0”, muscular and biracial, with short tight curls. Ben, 34, is a concert photographer, 5’11” and tattooed, with shoulder-length dark hair. There’s not a dick under six and a half inches among them, and everyone has assured they get tested on a regular basis. Most importantly, they all agree with Mike on one thing: that Will is gorgeous, and deserves to get fucked within an inch of his life and have as many orgasms as his body can physically handle.
It is, undeniably, a little awkward at first. They make small talk in the narrow galley of the kitchen until everyone has arrived, and then adjourn to the living room with drinks in hand. Aaron and Stephen both drink the craft beers that have been taking up precious space in their fridge ever since Terry brought a pack to their Halloween party last year. Ben joins Will and Mike in drinking vodka soda with lime, but he also pulls a joint out of his leather jacket pocket, and they pass that around while they chat. Mike never does well crossfaded, so he hands it straight off to Will when it comes around the circle. He watches him take a hit, entranced, as always, by his hands, the artful, loose way he holds the joint between his pointer and middle finger, the smoke ghosting out of his lips.
“You painted that?” Aaron asks, nodding at the canvas hanging on the wall above the couch. It’s twenty-one-year-old Mike in profile, shirtless at the kitchen table reading a book, washed by yellow lamplight in the dark blue night of Will’s old apartment.
“Yeah,” Will says, passing the joint off to Stephen. “It was for my senior thesis. I did a whole show on light and shadow, and…” He trails off, like he thinks no one cares. “Anyway, I mostly do comics now.”
“You guys have been together since college?” Ben asks, at the same time Stephen says “Like Superman?”
Mike takes the first question. “Yeah, eleven years.” He rubs his thumb back and forth over Will’s shoulder. They’ve been in physical contact at all times since the first guest arrived, and it’s soothing Mike’s jumpy stomach, the way Will smiles over at him and leans a little closer.
“Damn, that’s amazing,” Ben says, raising his drink to them in a cheers.
“Not actually Superman, but yeah,” Will says to Stephen. “Superheroes, some horror stuff. I ink for an indie publisher.”
“So cool,” Aaron says. “That’s like one of those dream jobs you want as a kid but think no one really has.”
Will looks proud, smiling shyly as he takes another sip of his drink. “I’m pretty lucky.”
“You’re pretty talented,” Mike corrects, and Will lets out a little laugh and shrugs, ears pink.
The conversation skims the surface for another fifteen minutes, until the roach of the joint is stubbed out on the coffee table ashtray and everyone’s draining the last drops of their drinks. Will stands up abruptly and stretches, t-shirt riding up to expose a strip of skin above his boxers. Everyone’s eyes follow him.
“Okay, boys,” he says. “I’m gonna go get comfortable… Mike will tell you the rules.”
He kisses the side of Mike’s head, and then turns and walks into the bedroom without another word.
“Um, okay,” Mike says, swallowing, staring after him. Will at thirty is more confident than ever, and it’s the biggest fucking turn-on. He turns back to the other men, wiping his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans, and tries to act like he’s not having a minor heart attack as he gives them the run down.
Mike and Will talked about it extensively, back at the beginning of the year when they decided to take this idea out of the realm of the hypothetical. Some of the boundaries went without saying, and Mike communicated them upfront when he was interviewing interested parties last month: no choking, slapping, bondage, degrading language, or otherwise hardcore behavior. Everyone has to be clean, but just in case, of course, they’d require condoms. But beyond that, Mike had a lot of questions for Will about specifics: blowjobs? (yes) with condoms? (no) face-fucking? (maybe, it depends) rimming? (only from Mike) hair-pulling? (probably not) facials? (yes, please). Did Will want to prep beforehand, or have Mike work him open as they get started? Did he want to be manhandled and tossed around, or did he want to call the shots himself? How many rounds did he want to go? Should they have a safeword—or gesture, if mouths are otherwise occupied—if things get too intense?
“Okay, so,” Mike says, steeling himself, looking around at each of them. “Remember, you can come on him but not in him. Condoms for anal, otherwise whatever. Um, he likes it a little rough but don’t get crazy. If he says stop or wait, listen to him or I’ll kill you.” Stephen laughs; Mike doesn’t. “If he squeezes you three times like this that means stop. Uh, he really likes when you touch his hair, but don’t pull it. Oh, and I’m the only one who gets to kiss him.” He slaps his hands on his thighs and stands up. “Everyone good? Got it?”
The three of them nod.
“Okay, then,” Mike says, taking a deep breath. “Come on in.”
He leads them down the hall, anticipation buzzing under his skin. Gandalf winds around Mike’s ankles as he makes to open the bedroom door, and he nudges her away gently with the side of his foot, pushing her back towards the kitchen. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says as she mews in protest, batting at his big toe. “Not tonight.”
Will is naked when they walk into the room, sitting at the edge of their bed in the warm lamplight. He’s already mostly hard, and Mike’s mouth is already watering. He hopes these guys know how lucky they are to get to touch the hottest man on planet earth. He pulls his shirt off over his head and drops it on the ground as he approaches the bed, and Will stands to meet him, circling his arms around Mike’s neck.
“Hi,” he says, low, smiling a little nervously.
“You’re alright?” Mike checks, scanning his face.
“Yeah,” Will says. His eyes drift behind Mike as belt buckles clink and fabric rustles, falling to the ground. He swallows. “Kiss me?”
Mike holds him by the back of his head and kisses him. Will moans softly against his mouth, the anticipation of the night ratcheting everything up tenfold. His body is so warm, pressing into Mike’s skin, and he opens his mouth eagerly to Mike’s tongue, getting deep and desperate fast. Mike hears and then feels the other men joining them, the hair-raising electricity of a body inches from his own, an arm brushing against his side as it reaches for Will. He cracks his eyes open just a bit, watching through his lashes as Aaron stands behind Will and kisses his neck, Stephen crowding in from the other side. Mike feels a hand on his own back that he guesses is probably Ben’s, a strand of long hair brushing his shoulder. Will shudders in a way that makes Mike think someone is touching his dick, and god, this is weird but already so hot. He lets his eyes flutter closed again and focuses on kissing Will as the others trail their hands over his body, winding his fingers through the hair at the nape of Will’s neck.
It’s a minute or two of heavy petting before Will breaks the kiss, breathless, pulling back enough to let his eyes come into focus, looking around. “Bed,” he says, to everyone and no one in particular, and Aaron and Stephen step aside to let him flop backwards onto the sheets. Mike takes the opportunity to shuck his own pants and boxers off, drinking in the surreal scene as the others crawl over him. Aaron’s muscles ripple in the lamplight like some kind of action hero. Ben is as well-endowed as he claimed to be, and eight inches is shocking and impressive in person. Stephen sinks down between Will’s legs and runs his tongue over the length of him, making Will shiver and gasp. But when Will opens his eyes, it’s Mike he’s looking at, reaching for.
“Baby,” Mike says, claiming his space on the bed beside Ben, leaning over Will to kiss him again. “What do you—?”
“Want you first,” Will says, eyes sliding out of focus as Stephen sinks his mouth around Will’s dick. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah,” Mike says, kissing Will again, hard, and then scrambling back to grab the lube. He’d cleared off both of their nightstands earlier and scattered a selection of condoms and a bottle of lube on each, so it isn’t far. Stephen pulls off and shifts to the side, making room for Mike, pumping Will’s already leaking dick in his hand. Over on the other side of the bed, Aaron is sucking a bruise onto Will’s chest, and Ben is combing his fingers through Will’s hair, kissing his neck. Will brings one of his knees up, and Mike lays eyes on the flared black base of his butt plug. It’s a relatively recent purchase, something Will surprised Mike with last year by secretly wearing it for the entire duration of their Valentine’s Day movie date, which promptly made Mike lose his fucking mind when he discovered it back at home. He presses a kiss to Will’s inner thigh as he touches it now, slowly and carefully pulling the bulb past the tight ring of muscle.
Will lets out a shaky groan as the plug leaves him. Mike sets it aside and squeezes lube onto his fingers to open him up the rest of the way. Two go in easy, and he feels his own dick twitch as he adds a third, eager to be inside him. Stephen sucks at the head of Will’s cock as Mike presses into him, and Will whines. His hips buck up, pushing Mike deeper right away.
“Fuck,” Mike says, feeling Will’s muscles clench hard around his fingers, watching him wince. “No rush, baby, we have all night.”
“I want you right now,” Will huffs out, impatient, rocking his hips down onto Mike’s hand.
Ben laughs against Will’s neck. “He’s the birthday boy,” he says to Mike, looking down at him. “You gotta give him what he wants.”
Mike is never one to argue with giving Will what he wants. So he crooks his fingers deep inside him and watches Will writhe in response, letting out a sharp moan. He’s about to ask how Will wants him, what position he wants to start in, but Will is already moving, pushing himself up and starting to roll onto his stomach. There’s a flurry of movement as everyone adjusts, and then Will is on his hands and knees, Aaron and Stephen at his head and Mike and Ben behind him. Mike fumbles for the lube again, and while he’s slicking himself up he watches Aaron guide Will’s open mouth to his cock. Mike’s brain pretty much short-circuits, watching Will suck dick from this angle—the little sound he makes as his head bobs forward, Aaron’s sturdy hand gentle at his jaw. He hurries to line his hips up with Will’s, feeling more desperate for him than ever.
Will moans loud around Aaron’s dick as Mike presses into him, and holy shit, that is something. Mike feels like he’s having an out of body experience. He sinks in to the hilt, gripping Will’s hipbones, and gives it a few seconds before he starts moving. Will makes another throaty, needy noise at the first thrust. Aaron’s hips start moving, too, and Will groans encouragingly as he gets fucked from both ends. Mike feels a little delirious, drunk on him, the tight heat of his body. He watches in a daze as Aaron and Stephen start kissing, and then Aaron pulls Will’s mouth off of his cock and Stephen takes his place.
“Fuck,” Mike mutters, thrusting faster as Will takes the shift in stride with a whimper. Beside him, Ben reaches down and wraps his hand around Will’s dick, which earns him a shaky moan. He has a hand on Mike’s waist as he does it, and then he starts sucking at Mike’s neck, which is—wholly unexpected, but surprisingly, not unwelcome. It’s just a shade of the sensory overload Will is being treated to right now, and the added sensation takes things up a notch. Will’s knees shift wider apart and Mike fucks him hard as his legs start to tremble, and then he pulls his mouth off Stephen’s dick and goes quiet, panting. A moment later his muscles are clenching hard around Mike as he comes, spilling onto the mattress.
“Good boy,” Aaron says, which Mike thinks is a little presumptuous—they never really discussed dirty talk—but actually, Will seems to like it. He lifts his head up and lets Aaron slide a thumb over his lips.
“You wanna take a break?” Mike asks, slowing the pace of his thrusts, wary of overstimulating him.
Will shakes his head. “Mm-mm,” he says, always slow to language after he comes. “I want…” He pauses, catching his breath. “Want everyone to take turns.”
Fuck. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Mike feels suddenly dangerously close, so maybe it’s good that there are others to tap in. He gives it a few more good thrusts and then pulls out carefully, and Will flops down on the bed, boneless, rolling onto his back. Mike lays down next to him as Stephen grabs condoms off the nightstand and tosses them to the other guys. Mike lands with his hand in a streak of Will’s cum, and he licks it off the heel of his palm while Will watches, grinning lazily.
“Having fun?” Mike asks, quiet, and Will just laughs, licking his swollen lips.
Instinctively, everyone seems to line up in order of dick size—Stephen is about the same as Mike, maybe a smidge shorter and thicker, then Aaron, then Ben. Someone slides a pillow under Will’s hips for a better angle, and Mike watches Will’s face as Stephen presses into him. Will’s eyelids flutter, his mouth falls back open, his head rolls to the side. Mike feels like he could practically come, just seeing him take the pleasure. He should probably feel more jealous than he does right now, watching someone else fuck his boyfriend, but in a way it feels like the ultimate act of service—letting other people give Will more than Mike can give him on his own. Of course, he’s been wrestling with his insecurities in the leadup to tonight; a small part of him might never stop believing that he’s running on borrowed time, that any day now Will is going to wake up and realize there’s so much more out there in the world for him. But when Will opens his eyes again and lets out a small, needy “Mike” as another man pounds into him, it confirms what the rest of Mike has known for eleven years—that he is Will’s, and Will is his. Mike needs the world to catch up, so he can marry him already.
He leans in and kisses him, deep and fierce, and Will moans happily against his mouth, noises hitching in time with Stephen’s thrusts. Mike combs his fingers through Will’s hair, one hand on the back of Will’s neck, which always makes him melt. When their lips eventually break apart, Stephen is pulling out to give Aaron a turn, and Will gasps impatiently in the moments that he’s empty, hips squirming. Aaron gets a hand under Will’s waist and flips him back over on his stomach effortlessly, and Will goes like a ragdoll, whimpering into the sheets.
“Not so bossy anymore, is he,” Ben grins, petting Will’s hair.
“That happens,” Mike says, and then he gasps as Will reaches out blindly and wraps his hand around Mike’s dick.
“Want you to—ah—” Will’s slurred words are choked off as Aaron presses into him. “Want you to come,” he finishes, pumping Mike loosely in his hand.
“I will, baby,” Mike says with a little laugh, brushing his thumb over Will’s cheekbone as he pants with his tongue out, saliva pooling on his lips. It feels absurd to think that Will is cute right now, debauched at the center of an orgy, but that’s the thing about him. He’s sweet, straight to his core.
With some effort, Will lifts his head back up, propping his upper body up on his elbows, and tugs at Mike until he gets the message to come stand by his face. Will blinks, getting his bearings, and then looks up at Ben and tilts his head, nodding him over. Mike’s breath catches in his chest as Will licks a drop of precome off the head of his dick, and then turns and darts his tongue over Ben’s. He goes back and forth like that, taking each of them deeper in turn, eyes prickling with tears as Aaron fucks him hard. He looks both completely overwhelmed and blissed out beyond belief.
“You’re taking it so well,” Aaron praises, and Will moans around Ben’s cock, exhaling hard through his nose as he lets it slide deeper into his throat. Everyone seems to catch on to the fact that a little praise goes a long way with Will, after that. Things get a lot more chatty, murmurs of gorgeous and fuck, so hot and doing so good intermingling with all the gasps and grunts and groans. Mike has fully given himself over to the experience at this point, swelling with pride at the fact that Will is getting praised so thoroughly, as he should be, always. Will gets greedy and tries to suck Mike and Ben off at the same time, hinging his jaw wide, and it doesn’t quite work but for Mike, the sensation of brushing against another dick inside the wet heat of Will’s mouth is surreal and beyond hot.
Aaron fucks Will until he’s close, and then pulls out and slides the condom off, jerking himself to completion and painting Will’s back with long ropes of cum. Will whimpers, mouth going slack. Ben presses his thumb against Will’s lips, pushing into his mouth along the side of Mike’s dick. “You ready for more?”
Will lets out a wordless little moan as he nods.
“You like to ride?” Ben asks. Will mhms as much as he can with his mouth wide open. “Good,” Ben says, patting his cheek, and he leans back to grab a condom.
Will pulls off of Mike’s dick and pushes himself upright on his knees, wobbly, clinging to Mike’s arm for support. Mike holds him up, pulling him closer, and Will kisses him hungrily, sloppy, making soft noises against his lips.
“How’s your jaw?” Mike asks as he pulls back, massaging his thumb over the muscle at the corner.
“‘S good,” Will mumbles, leaning into Mike’s hand. Mike resolves to run him a bath and give him a long, full-body massage tomorrow.
“C’mere, birthday boy,” Ben says, and after stealing one more kiss from Mike, Will goes. Ben sits back against the headboard and guides Will into his lap, facing out. Will’s thighs tremble as he sinks down, eyes closed, mouth hanging open. The view is amazing—Mike takes a mental picture of Will on top from this angle, slowly rocking down inch after inch with a long moan. His hair is tousled and he has hickies all over his neck and chest, and his dick is half hard again, twitching with interest, which means orgasm number two is in the cards.
“Mike,” Ben says, and Mike snaps to attention, which is—whatever. He’ll think about that more later. “Come put your mouth on him.”
Mike never needs to be told twice to give Will a blowjob—it’s his favorite thing in the world. He scrambles onto the bed and gets down on his elbows to get a better angle. Aaron and Stephen circle up to kiss and suck at Will’s neck and chest as Mike takes him into his mouth, and it’s strange and stupidly hot, being this up close and personal as Will takes another man’s dick in his ass. Mike knows that when Will has already come he’s unlikely to get fully hard again right away—at least, not since they were twenty-two—but he can still definitely come again like this, especially with something inside him. He pumps his hand and sucks at him lazily, and Will whimpers as finally he sinks all the way down on Ben’s cock, shuddering as he rocks his hips back, adjusting to the length of him.
“Good, just like that,” Ben mutters as Will rolls his hips forward again, and it does something to Mike’s head, the way he’s talking him through it. When Mike was choosing the lineup for tonight’s festivities, he’d passed all their photos to Will for approval, and Will had given him pretty straightforward evaluations—this guy is too hairy, this guy is too ripped, this guy has nice hands, a nice cock. Mike hadn’t thought at all about his own personal preferences, beyond whether or not they seemed respectful, responsible, and passed the twenty-question survey he’d put together for safety’s sake before he ever pulled a photo of Will out of his wallet. It’s occurring to Mike now, in a hazy, peripheral kind of way, that he might be attracted to Ben, actually. He’s fucking Will in the exact kind of playful, admiring way Mike does, which helps a lot, but he also reminds him vaguely of Eddie, which Mike isn’t prepared to linger on for more than a fraction of a moment. Mike has never thought too hard on what his “type” might be, because he already has everything he’s ever wanted. He bottoms maybe once a year, as a treat, and obviously it feels good, but he gets so much more out of making Will come, out of falling down and worshipping him at every possible opportunity. But Ben’s rough voice is definitely scratching some kind of itch in his brain that’s never been scratched before, making him wonder what it would be like to be bent over under someone like that. It’s interesting. It’s an idle fact to tuck in his back pocket for another day—not to do anything about but just to reckon with—when his head isn’t full of cotton and lust, when he isn’t sucking precome off the tip of his boyfriend’s dick as he whines and rolls his hips with someone else’s fingers in his mouth.
“Doing so good, pretty boy,” Aaron says as Will’s hips rock more urgently. Pretty boy. It’s true, and it’s also so strange, how all these phrases Mike would never break out in the heat of the moment because it’s just not them feel more natural on someone else’s lips. They’re all so tangled up now, so much skin contact, Aaron’s knee wedged behind Mike’s elbow, Mike’s forearm braced against Ben’s thigh, Will’s hand wrapped around Stephen’s dick, knuckles brushing against Mike’s ear. Ben takes a firm hold on Will’s hips and starts lifting him up and down, which makes Will moan louder and makes it harder for Mike to keep his mouth on him, but he isn’t deterred, drool rolling down his chin as he keeps his mouth open wide and chases the movements of Will’s body. Will’s free hand finds Mike’s hair, grabs a fistful and pulls, which always drags a satisfied groan from deep in Mike’s throat, urging him on. He can tell by the way Will’s thighs are trembling as he bounces up and down that he’s close again, and sure enough a few moments later his loud moans drop into silence as he bears down and his release hits the back of Mike’s throat. Mike swallows it down greedily, sucking him through it until he can’t bear sensation on his dick anymore and nudges Mike off, fingers still tangled in his hair.
“There you go,” Ben praises, and Will lets out an overwhelmed little laugh, eyes closed and head tipped back. “Still doing good?”
“Uh-huh,” Will says to the ceiling, voice raw. He lets his head fall forward heavily, and then opens his eyes and meets Mike’s gaze. “Mike.”
“Yeah,” Mike says, pushing himself up off his elbows, shuffling forward on his knees. “I’m here.”
Will lets gravity tip him into Mike’s arms for a kiss. He pants against Mike’s mouth. “Want you to come inside me,” he breathes, pulling back enough to make unfocused eye contact, “and everyone else on my face.”
This night is going to be the death of him. “Yeah, baby,” Mike says immediately, brushing a thumb over Will’s cheek, the sweaty edges of his hairline. “Anything you want.”
There’s an untangling of limbs as they all shift, figuring out the best new position. Will ends up on his back with a pillow under his hips, and Mike grabs more lube as everyone else circles up; Aaron is back in the mix again, rock hard after a shockingly short refractory period. Mike’s angling his hips to line up when Will grabs his arm and pulls him down for a deep kiss, sighing happily against Mike’s mouth.
“I love you so much,” Will mumbles, voice wooly with pleasure.
“Will,” Mike breathes. It’s crazy how he still gets butterflies after all these years. There’s nothing better than making Will happy. “I love you.”
“Fuck, guys,” Stephen says softly. “This is the most romantic orgy ever.”
Will laughs drunkenly; Mike grins against his mouth. After one more searing kiss, Mike props himself back up on his knees and tilts Will’s hips to the right angle. And then he’s pushing inside, and it makes Mike’s head spin how perfectly ready for him Will is, still tight deep inside but no friction on the way in. Will lets out a satisfied exhale, and then a moan as Mike starts moving, fast. He feels and looks so amazing, it’ll be a miracle if Mike lasts two minutes.
Even still, time seems to move in slow motion. The air in the room is hot and humid, shivering groans and gasps falling from everyone’s mouths, Will’s legs wrapped around Mike’s hips. Stephen is the first to go, and the sight of cum streaking into Will’s open mouth, hitting the bottom of his chin and dripping down his neck, just about sends Mike into outer space. He’s trembling toward his own release as Ben finishes, painting Will’s forehead, his nose, his squeezed-shut eyelids. Mike tumbles promptly over the edge as Will whimpers happily, panting with his tongue out in the air. He comes so hard his vision darkens at the edges, blood pressure dropping sharply, and he’s propped up breathing hard over Will’s body as Aaron crosses the finish line again, hitting Will’s cheek, dribbling onto his shoulder.
“Holy shit,” Mike pants, drinking in the scene.
“Fuck,” Aaron says. He smears a thumb through the mess on Will’s face.
“You get what you wanted?” Ben asks.
Will just laughs, eyes closed, face dripping. He licks his lips.
Two hours later, Will sits in the tub under the spray of the showerhead, still too weak-kneed to bother standing. They’d ended up going another round, after a bit of a break. Everyone who was hard again in fifteen minutes—a group which Mike was a little amazed to find himself a part of, a testament to the insane heat of the whole experience—took a turn until Will came again, almost dry, and was so speechless and overwhelmed that Mike made the executive decision, with Will’s woozily nodded approval, to call it for the night. He kicked everyone out (extremely graciously), brought Will a giant cup of water, wrapped him up in a blanket on the couch, and ordered pizza. By the time it arrived, Will had perked up a bit, and they watched Star Trek reruns in the dark living room until Will decided he had the energy to get clean.
“Who kept calling me ‘good boy’?” Will asks as Mike, sitting behind him, scrubs soap over his back.
“Aaron,” Mike says with a smile. “Did you like it?”
“Actually, yeah,” Will says. “It kind of worked.” He glances back over his shoulder. “For some reason, it would be so weird if you said that to me, though.”
“Good,” Mike laughs. “I would feel really weird saying it.”
Will hums contentedly as Mike rubs the soapy washcloth over the back of his neck. “I think I liked Ben the best out of the three of them,” he muses.
“Yeah, his dick is huge,” Mike says. He can’t pretend there isn’t a part of him that was a little insecure about inviting more well-endowed men into their bedroom, but he wasn’t going to let it stop him from giving Will the best possible party.
“Well, yeah,” Will laughs softly. “But I think I liked him because he kind of looks like you.”
“Oh,” Mike says. He can’t help but smile as he presses a kiss to Will’s damp hair. Will relaxes back against Mike’s chest, leaning his head on his shoulder, and the water beats down on both of them, hot and soothing. The bathroom door creaks on its hinges as Gandalf pushes her way into the room, nosing up to the tub curiously.
“Hey, sweet pea,” Will says, draping a wet hand over the tub’s edge. Gandalf flinches away from the water droplets and bats at Will’s thumb. He laughs, looking back up at the ceiling with a contented sigh. “We have a pretty good life.”
“Yeah,” Mike says with a smile. “We do.”