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He could feel that itch again. That god awful, terrible itch in the back of his throat. The one you get after eating too much chocolate. One that could only be quelled with an entire glass of water. His mouth felt weird, sticky and dry to a fault. It was an odd combination.
Lungs flaring, he hoped that perhaps more oxygen could still the burning sensation. That hot, fiery sting in his stomach after too many days of starving himself. God, he hasn’t felt this hungry in weeks. It was his own fault, really. Perhaps he should have taken- used the rat in the trap.
In a way, it was fate staring into his eyes that night. A cruel symphony written just for him. Its big, black eyes looked at him as it screeched. Just like him, the rat had been hungry. And the cheese presented to it on a silver platter was simply too delicious.
The rat was just like him, really. Tempted by hunger. Tempted by something too good to be true. The only difference between Will Byers and the rat is that this wild animal was no longer trapped.
A knot – or perhaps a nasty cramp in the middle of his stomach – made his eyes flutter shut. The dizziness started barely three days ago. Muscles lax and a nasty headache followed soon after. And now? Now he could barely recognise himself. He let the hunger overflow, consuming his mind until there was nothing left. Or perhaps not, considering his legs were moving on their own.
A staircase so familiar greeted his soft thuds. Will wasn’t sure when he got off the couch in the basement. Wasn’t sure what time his wristwatch said. Jesus, he didn’t even know when he made it in front of the wooden door. The door that separated the predator from the prey. His prey.
Was he supposed to knock? Probably, but that didn’t matter anymore. Not when he was already closing that goddamn wooden door behind him. The same door that had little lines drawn on it. If he had any sense of self left, Will would chuckle.
Height measurement had always been some sort of odd tradition. Back when times were easier. Back when he was not this. Back when he wasn’t hovering above his best friend like he was prey.
Will knew, deep down, that Mike Wheeler would be the best meal he’s ever had. He knew the moment he turned – back when his feet carried him to the Wheeler house, through the always open backdoor. God, how he wished he could have died that night. But even that he couldn’t do. He still clung to life, even if he was technically already dead.
But Will Byers has noticed another thing. Something he really wished he didn’t. He never asked to know how life tastes. That it even had a taste to begin with. At times it was sweet, sometimes a little sour. It could be salty too, almost bitter even. Over the past few weeks, Will Byers had the taste of life on the tip of his tongue too many times to count.
Yet, he has never hated himself more than in this moment. What would Mike’s life taste like? Sweet or Salty? Thick or watery? Rich or –
No.
The way his body craved the taste was more evidence than needed. In no world could Mike Wheeler taste bland.
His hands found the other’s wrists before his mind had caught up. Caging his best friend underneath him, rendering him borderline immobile. His knees pressed against Mike’s thigh, strengthening the hold. Will should let go, leave the room- hell, he should leave the entire house. Maybe even the state.
Somehow, this was another reminder of his predicament. Were predator and prey really all that different? As he let more of his bodyweight press onto his prey – best friend, he tried to remind himself – Will couldn’t help but wonder. One would always end up trapped, hunted down, slaughtered and eaten. And the other? The other would forever be haunted by this growing, never-ending hunger.
Nostrils flaring, the scent hit him like a truck. A truck he desperately wished into existence. Perhaps getting run over would stop him. Stop him from deeply inhaling the warm air radiating off Mike’s impossibly flushed skin. Flushed with the blood coursing through his veins.
God, leaning closer was not a good idea. In fact, it wasn’t an idea at all. Will couldn’t think – couldn’t muster a single thought other than Mike. And nothing has ever smelled more alive than Mike.
It was cruel, really. A joke the universe played on his slipping control as if it wanted to laugh at him. A mocking, sick cackle in the middle of an endless nothingness. Mike turned, a soft exhale following. With Will caging him – caging the boy like the prey he is – only his head moved. Black hair messy and sticking out. His neck was flushed, Will noted, flush with life.
Will couldn’t have been bothered to question if Mike noticed the trap. Not when Mike, so unknowing and alive, presented his neck so willingly. Or unwillingly, depending on how you look at it.
Will felt his breath hitch and his fangs sharpened on their own. Ears, attuned far more than what any human could dream of, picked up on the steady drum of Mike’s heart. Not just his heart – Will could hear the steady rush of blood beneath too-thin skin. Skin his fangs could break into so easily. Just a little bit, a tiny pick and a miniscule drop of blood.
His lips found Mike’s exposed throat in an instant. And god, it was pure bliss. Heat his own body was no longer able to produce, engulfed his face. The skin his lips touched drummed quietly to the beat of rushing blood. Barely noticeable. That needed to change, though.
Clarity had long left his senses, only needs and wants driving him forward. Tentatively, almost like trying to savour a meal, Will let his tongue dart out. A slow, gently lick along Mike’s pulse point. A shudder ran through his entire body like lightning. He didn’t know if his arms were shaking this much before. But as his tongue licked another stripe – all the way from Mike’s shoulder to his ear – Will knew he was done for.
“Will?”
There weren’t many things Will Byers was afraid of. He was afraid of cats because they always seem to scratch him. Slugs he wasn’t very fond of either – they remind him of whatever unholy creatures he threw up after being stuck in the Upside Down. The government could be pretty terrifying too. Untrustworthy allies, as his mother called them. Karen Wheeler, whenever she noticed the Party was awake past 1am, was a horrifying sight to see as well.
His father used to be one of the scariest things. Back when he hit Will for being too girly. Back when Lonnie threw the words, fag, queer and fairy around like weapons. And in a way, they were. Will Byers had always, in a way, been afraid of himself. Of the wrongness inside of him. Afraid of the feelings he harboured for the very boy that stirred beneath him.
Maybe, Will thought, maybe he’s never been more afraid in his life than in this very moment. Movement – a twist and a turn – a failed attempt of freeing himself. Mike blinked up at him, eyelids sluggish with sleep.
“Jesus, are you okay?” Will could hear the worry and fogginess in Mike’s tone. Though, the fogginess probably came from his own mind. Another turn and twist – but nothing in their position really changed. It couldn’t. Not when Mike was still so full of life. So full of that deliciousness Will desperately needed on his tongue.
In the back of his mind, Will noticed a slight spike in Mike’s pulse. Fear? Will swallowed, gulping spit that felt too dead and too little to satisfy. Beneath him, Mike tried to move again and Will tightened his grip. He didn’t want to – of course he didn’t. It was a reaction, a reflex uncontrollable and unwavering.
“Hungry much?” The amusement in Mike’s voice did not go unnoticed. Eyebrows creasing, Will could do nothing but stare. Words seemed too far away and thoughts too intangible to grasp. What was so funny? Predator on prey – life or death. Nothing about this situation should be funny.
Even so, with pupils most likely dilated, Will couldn’t find it himself to lift his gaze from Mike’s face. Pink lips slightly parted, breathless and beautiful. In any other situation, Will would have dreamed of this. Being so close to his best friend, connected by their hips, faces inches away from each other.
But fate was cruel like that. Of course, only a life or death situation could bring them this close. Connect them so intimately. It could have been romantic, sweet and loving. This, however, was a far cry from all the fantasies and dreams Will would never share.
Breath hitching, he barely registered Mike’s legs moving. Slowly, gently, almost as though he tried not to startle Will. To make himself more comfortable, maybe? Mike’s legs were parted further but he tried not to move away. For a second, Will wondered if his best friend harboured some unsaid death wish.
Then – Will felt the knot in his stomach tighten – Mike tilted his head again. This time though, the boy was fully awake, fully aware of his actions. “You can have some but only if you promise to tell me how I taste”, a breathless, shy chuckle left Mike’s lips. If Will had any strength left to talk, he’d tell Mike how dangerous the game he’s playing was.
Instead, he leaned down. Slowly and gently placing another kiss on Mike’s neck. Directly above his pulse point. The body underneath him tensed, but Will had a hard time focusing on that. Not when Mike’s blood pulsed so sweetly beneath his tongue. He could feel a slight twitch and from the corner of his eyes he noted how Mike’s fingers grasped onto the pillow.
Will murmured against warm skin, gentle and almost soothing. Then, without much thought, he loosened the clasp on one of Mike’s wrists. Hand moving upward, he intertwined Mike’s fingers with his own. To give him something to hold onto. Mike’s breath hitched, shallow and trembling, against Will’s tongue. Another kiss to the neck, sweet and savouring. His fingers twitched against Will’s, curling in response.
Fangs darting out, lips parting, he hovered just slightly. The temptation was there, sweet and unnerving. A fluttering pulse below warm skin, a nervous hand in his – Will really wasn’t sure who was the nervous one – and bodies meeting by the hips.
Will Byers had everything he ever wanted and everything he’s ever feared right here. And his best friend offered himself so willingly. Just a tiny drop of blood, Will promised himself. He would stop after having just a taste.
“I’ll be gentle”, was the one promise he managed to force through his lips before teeth met skin. A light puncture, right where shoulder meets neck, and suddenly the world exploded in colours. Pink, purple, blue, yellow. The moment Mike’s life met the tip of his tongue, Will could feel his life changing.
Colours meshed together in a beautiful, chaotic sense that felt foreign but right. Right to a fault. Fingers tightening around Mike’s, Will could barely hold himself together. Actually, he couldn’t even do that. His entire body pressed closer into Mike’s and both shuddered. He could hear slight gasps from below, a gentle thumb drawing circles on the back of his hand.
“‘M okay, keep going.” Usually, he appreciated encouragement. But this time – this time Will wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stop tasting Mike. It was heaven and hell meeting in the west. Yellow and blue breathing life into his body.
Mike’s blood was different. It was thick, sweet and almost syrupy. A hint of metal hit his tongue in the most delicious way. A wave of copper touched his nose but most importantly – he experienced life. Smelled it, heard it, tasted it and felt it.
Blood was flowing onto his tongue, into his mouth all the way down to his core. He’s never felt this close to being alive. The knot in his stomach lessened but the need couldn’t subside. Not even as blood was rushing faster, Mike’s heart drumming quicker. It felt impossible to ignore yet impossible to stop. And deep down, Will knew he never wanted this to end.
He felt complete, like he was always meant to be here. A stuttering breath forced him to pause. Was it too much? Not enough? Certainly not enough for him. But that didn’t matter – not right now, not ever.
Pulling back just a little bit, instinctively licking the open wound, Will faced the boy he’s loved since forever. Black eyes, unfocused and beautiful, stared right back at him. Mike’s cheeks were flushed and lips curled into a lazy smile.
“Tastes good?” His tone was teasing and to be honest, Will probably wasn’t expected to give an answer. With a slight nod, he gave it anyway. Hunger slightly stilled, he felt the wooziness in his mind leave little by little. Piece by Piece.
Once more, their faces were inches from each other. Hovering, not touching. Will could feel Mike’s breath on his lips. He considered it, kissing Mike Wheeler. He’d thought about it before too. Fantasised about it, really.
Now was not the time to do so, Will thought. They weren’t together, they weren’t dating. They were best friends – a pleasure Will had learned to live with. And now, apparently, they were predator and prey. An ugly combination, if you think about it.
Hazel eyes wandering back to the wound, his stomach felt like an animal again. Hungry, needy. Mike seemed to have noticed. “Want some more?” Again, Will could but nod. The bed creaked softly as Mike moved again – this time Will allowed it.
When the other’s throat lay bare again, Mike let out a sound dangerously close to a whine, dark eyes fluttering shut. The open wound stared at him, judging and inviting the hunger rooted too deeply. A soft tickle of blood leaked, steady and waiting. Was it a crime? A crime to carefully catch the red substance with the tip of his tongue?
Hand finding the other’s waist, Will steadied himself like that. Fingers gently moving below Mike’s shirt, he drew soft circles against heated skin. Mike’s back arched slightly at the motion, a tiny shiver escaping him. A reminder to himself. He could be gentle. He will be gentle. Nonetheless, Mike's breath hitched all the same.
Just because he could, Will’s hand gave a tentative squeeze. Skin dipping lightly underneath, he could feel Mike shudder. Fingers slowly tracing upward, he mapped Mike’s stomach. Muscles tensing below, Will decided to go a step further.
Fingers gently tracing Mike’s ribs, Will caught the softest moan in his ears. A suppressed chuckle escaped Will. Who knew that Mike Wheeler could make such pretty sounds?
Eyes flicking back up, the red blush creeping up was unmistakable. Perhaps that’s what led to Will’s boldness. The fact that still, Mike didn’t push him away. Carefully, fangs sunk back into the wound. Overwhelming taste steadily fed into his delirium. The dream that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one enjoying this.
Love and hunger tangled together inside of him – a dangerous cocktail of control and instinct. Soft hands found his hair, pulling Will ever so closer. Closer to the source of all his troubles. A light scratch against his scalp as fingers tightened in his hair. “Feels… ‘s nice”, Mike’s voice slurred as Will kept going. Kept feeding. Kept drinking and tasting and experiencing and –
A shiver ran through his body as Mike gasped, deep and low. A full body shudder, if you will. Subconsciously, he pressed closer, hips pressing into each other. Curling his fingers around Mike’s as he fed a little more gently. He wanted to be soft, he really did.
“Dizzy”, came as a whisper and finally, with a last swallow of the most delicious substance, Will pulled away. Lips planting tender kisses on the wound, steady and deliberate. The puncture would look ugly if he didn’t try to fix it. So his tongue darted out. Lazy strokes until the wound started closing again. Tissue meeting tissue. Vampire saliva had a funny effect like that.
Every last sense of hunger, of starvation, ceased to exist. It was odd, to say the least. Every other drop of blood, every other feeding had required more. More blood, more life. Or struggle.
A not so funny thing about vampires, as Will had noticed, was that fear made blood taste like more. Stilled the hunger inside him better. As he pressed a tentative, loving kiss to Mike’s jaw, he wondered if love had the same effect.
He could still taste the sweetness on his tongue, feel the thickness clinging to his fangs. Even so, his fingers continued to draw soothing circles on Mike’s waist. Should he move away? Leave the room?
An easy tension filled the room, soft moonshine filtering through the window. It drew a nice picture, in all honesty. Perhaps, even if the situation was less than ideal, it could still be perceived as romantic. More than just prey and predator. More than best friends.
The quiet hummed around them, engulfing them in imaginary cotton. Mike lowered his hand from Will’s hair to his cheek. Soothing touches alongside his jaw, bringing them closer together. Was now the right moment to kiss Mike Wheeler?
The choice wasn’t his. Not really anyway. Not when Mike Wheeler leaned forward, hot breath tickling his lips. Every nerve in his body tickled lightly. Anticipation dancing like a madman on his skin. Their lips met, soft and welcoming.
Will Byers never imagined his first kiss would be with his best friend. Never in a million years would he have considered the possibility. And if you had told him a year ago it would be right after drinking Mike Wheeler’s blood, he would have called you crazy.
It was magical, to an extent. The way their lips fit together so perfectly. The softness of Mike’s body which he held so closely. A soft sigh escaped him as Mike teasingly licked his bottom lip. Will wondered if Mike could taste the blood. It was intoxicating, to say the least.
Fingers tightening around each other, bodies pressed together – Will thought he won’t ever be able to live without this. As their lips separated, Mike leisurely pulled Will next to him. Nuzzling into his chest, Will exhaled slowly. Arm now draped around him, pulling Will closer, Mike pressed a soft kiss onto his lips once more.
Will Byers knew one thing for certain. Mike Wheeler, his best friend and lover, was the best meal he’s ever had.