Work Text:
“You’ve been really stressed lately,” Will commented as Mike walked behind him. They had chained their bikes up across the street, and now he was leading him back to the warehouse that the NYU art students called home. No one should be there right now, which meant what he had planned wouldn’t be a disruption of any kind.
“We both have been, next week is finals week,” Mike shrugged, arms brushing together as they walked side by side. His friend had his hands tucked into his pockets, glancing around at the dark streets. It wasn’t the first time he had brought Mike to the warehouse, he had used his best friend as a model more times than he could count in the past five semesters.
Enough that some of the other gay students in the art department had commented on how cute he was, on how close the two of them were. Will has to brush off the playful accusations every time and turn away from his friends so they couldn’t see his blush. One or two had asked if he would set them up with Mike, too.
Of course he said no, selfishly.
“Ugh don’t remind me,” he groaned, as if they weren’t actively walking to where he had been holed up working for the past week. He slipped his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the garage door. Before he could even bend down to hoist the heavy door open, Mike was beside him and doing it instead. He felt his heart flutter at the casual help. “Thanks.” Mike flashed him a smile and stepped inside.
Will glanced around the warehouse and walked over to his unofficial area, where he currently had one large canvas in the middle of it. He had already tucked away his actual projects- the last thing he wanted right now was to mess up something due next week. He went into his drawer and grabbed the bucket he had prepared, feeling Mike’s eyes on his back.
“So am I sitting for you again? I probably should’ve washed my hair so it looked better-” He glanced up to see his friend shifting awkwardly on his feet, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket. Will smiled- he was really cute when he was nervous like that. Even if he was sitting for him, the state of his hair wouldn’t matter- Will thought he was always so beautiful.
“You aren’t sitting for me,” he interrupted, reaching into the bucket, “you’re helping me with something else.” He held the paint-filled water balloon in his palm and tossed it up, letting it land back solidly between his fingers. Mike’s eyes tracked the movement and then raised to his face, cocking his head in confusion.
“What’s that for?” He asked, stepping a bit closer until he was standing on the tarp with Will. He smiled, turning and pulling the canvas more centered so they could both get to it.
“Sometimes, when us art kids are stressed, we’ll get a big canvas and fill some balloons with paint,” he explained, stepping next to Mike’s side and shifting into a throwing position. “Then we-” He chuckled the balloon at the canvas, a little weak due to his lack of proper form, and grinned when it splattered heavily at the center. The yellow paint stained the white, dripping down slowly. “It's therapeutic.”
Mike was watching the canvas and then looked down at him in amusement. Will felt his heart flutter with the way he raised an eyebrow. “Wow, I didn’t know you had anger issues,” he teased. Will rolled his eyes and elbowed him, making his friend laugh. Then, Mike shucked off his jacket and threw it off to the side. Will watched the way his t-shirt clung to his frame, his arms that had grown more defined over time, as he reached down to grab a balloon from the bucket.
Blue created green as the streaks of colors mixed together on the canvas. He grinned.
“Satisfying, right?” he prompted, bending down to grab two more balloons. He tossed one to Mike, who immediately reared back and threw it. Will joined him and their paint splattered in near sync. Will hummed, crossing over to the canvas and watching the way the colors were falling. “This could be a cool project- something about academic stress-”
Cold paint splattered against his back. He froze. Did he really just-
His hand moved around to touch his back, glad he was wearing a paint shirt as his fingers came away covered in blue. He heard Mike’s stifled giggles behind him, turning to face his friend. The boy had a hand cupped over his mouth, his shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter.
“Oh, oh you’re dead.” Mike’s eyes went wide at Will’s mock anger, but he couldn’t fight a small smile from pulling at his lips as he darted towards the bucket. They got there at the same time, grabbing for balloons to hurl at each other. He shivered when it split over his head, paint dripping down through his hair and onto his exposed skin. Mike was now stained with yellow, splattered across his chest.
“This is really helping my stress!” Mike laughed as he darted away from Will, trying to dodge his next throw. They were both shaking too much to really aim or dodge, so both of them were getting messily splashed with paint over and over. Canvas entirely forgotten, the targets were now each other. He felt like a kid again in this moment, the faded warehouse lights the only thing illuminating them as they ran around the room. Mike’s laughter was so carefree it made his heart soar, he hadn’t heard him like this in years.
They were running out of balloons. One of the last ones splashed right over Mike’s crotch, making the boy flinch with a shout of alarm. He squealed as Mike ran towards him instead of the bucket, like he knew it was already empty. He tried to run from him, but Mike’s arms wrapped around his waist from behind and pulled him close as he squirmed and shouted in protest.
“Mike! Let me go!” he yelled, mixing paint where their bodies pressed together. He smacked at his arms, kicking his legs as his surprisingly strong friend held him tight. Mike finally dropped him, and when he whirled around to face him he realized he was no longer laughing.
Mike was a mess, his curls damp with blue and yellow paint, dripping from the strands and onto his clothes and skin. He was holding Will tight by the waist now, breathing heavily, lips parted from exhaustion. He looked so unbelievably pretty it made his heart stop- there was no way it was fair for his best friend to look like this and hold him like this.
“Mike-” He was about to push away, let them both catch their breaths and suggest that they should get cleaned up and try to wipe away some of the paint that had gotten all over the warehouse. He didn’t want to leave a mess for the others, after all. He didn’t get the chance, though, because those big brown eyes dropped down to his lips and then, in what felt like a long time coming-
They were kissing.
He faintly tasted paint on their lips as they slotted together, hands squeezing tightly at his waist. He looped his arms around Mike’s neck, tangling his fingers in paint-soaked hair. He didn’t care about the mess they both were, only the taste of his best friend on his lips as he moaned into his mouth. He pulled at his hair, tugging him impossibly closer until their bodies were bowed together.
Mike’s hands began to obsessively wander over his body, sliding down to his hips and pushing up the hem of his shirt. Paint-slick hands ran over his stomach and he gasped, welcoming Mike’s tongue into his mouth. His nails scraped at his scalp slightly, lungs burning with the need for air that he was denying. He didn’t want to stop kissing him, like he wasn’t entirely sure this would be real if he did. Right now, it just felt like the heat of the moment.
His back hit the canvas they had originally begun painting, the larger frame of his best friend pinning him there. A gasp tore from him when the kiss broke, his lungs ached, head tilting back against the canvas as he tried to catch his breath. Lips landed on his neck, likely getting a mouthful of paint and drawing another gasp from Will.
“Mike-” he breathed, fingers tangled in his hair, holding him as lips and teeth brushed along his neck. “Mike I don’t think this is non-toxic paint-” it was a weak protest, he really didn’t want him to stop.
Teeth dug into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and he cried out, his body arching into him. “I don’t care,” he replied, voice rough in his ear as he nipped at his earlobe. Will moaned again, cursing softly as a hand gripped at his ass and then slid to his thigh, hiking it up over Mike’s hip. “Will-” he murmured in his ear and he sounded about as wrecked as Will felt, “Will I’ve needed this.”
God, he never thought he’d hear that. He never thought Mike would want him in the same way that he had ached for him their whole life. His fingers pulled at his hair and Mike whined, nibbling at his throat now.
“Me too,” he gasped, a hand sliding down to grip at Mike’s shoulder. The boy groaned, an impossibly sexy sound right in his ear. “Mike we’re covered in paint and this is a school facility-” he protested as the boy continued to grope and kiss at him. He was so sure he’d have marks on his neck, as well as paint stains, but he really didn’t care. Even his protest wasn’t overly serious, because he was just aching to be touched like this forever.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked lowly, pulling away just enough for them to make eye contact. Mike’s lips were swollen and stained with green paint, eyes half-lidded with lust. They probably both looked absolutely debauched, Will felt like he was being torn apart even more under the hunger in the other boy’s gaze.
“No,” he confirmed. Immediately, hands slid down to his thighs and gripped them, urging Will to hop up into his arms. He didn’t expect Mike to be able to carry him, but the boy effortlessly squeezed his thighs when he wrapped them around Mike’s waist. Mike had a sly grin on his face and Will decided he needed to just kiss it off of him. Their lips connected again as Mike blindly picked his way over to the chaise Will had nearby.
••••
Will blinked up at Mike blearily, totally worn out, as the boy gently wiped the paint off of his skin. They were both still shirtless, just in their boxers, and Will was very glad no one had come by to work on a late night project. Paint had been smeared everywhere, but Will thought that Mike looked like a work of art with blue, yellow, and green on him. He could even see some of his own hand and lip prints, pressed over Mike’s skin. But he was cleaning them up, which was now revealing the hickeys covering both of them, as well as the angry red lines over Mike’s back.
“Thank you,” he said softly when they were both mostly clean. Mike squeezed onto the chaise with him and then pulled Will until he was laying on his chest, comfortable with their bare skin pressed together. He was already addicted to the feeling- addicted to Mike.
“You don’t have to thank me,” Mike replied, so sweet as always. He felt a nose and then lips press to the top of his head. He smiled against his chest, kissing him in reply. “That definitely made me feel less stressed,” he joked, making Will snort and roll his eyes even though he knew Mike couldn’t see it.
“This wasn’t my plan, but I can’t say I’m complaining,” he hummed. After a moment, he shifted so he could see him, arms pillowed on Mike’s chest and looking down at him. “The canvas usually works just fine.” Mike chuckled and tucked some hair behind his ear- Will could feel the strands stiff with drying paint. He groaned, “this is going to be such a mess to wash off.”
Mike grinned, shrugging, a streak of yellow lingering on his cheekbone. He looked so incredibly pretty, he couldn’t even handle it. He felt like he was melting all over again, as if this wasn’t real in the slightest. Maybe he had just fallen asleep while painting and had a very embarrassing sex dream with some of his friends around.
But no, this was real. As real as it could get.
“I’ll help you,” Mike hummed, “since I started it. We can shower when we get back to our apartment.” The amount of plurals in his sentence had Will’s heart racing all over again. We can shower? Our apartment? It felt too good to be true.
“Like- together?” he asked shyly, biting his bottom lip as he looked down at him. Mike grinned, stretching his neck up to kiss the tip of his nose. He wrinkled it with a little giggle, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks.
“Yeah, together,” Mike confirmed, “if that's okay, I’d like to shower with my boyfriend.” Wow, he was really being the king of assumptions today- and it was going to absolutely destroy Will. His eyes went wide, breath catching in his chest. Sure, they had just had sex, but Will had been in love with Mike his entire life, he never thought he’d hear him refer to them as boyfriends.
“Boyfriend?” he echoed softly. Mike smiled, so sickly sweet that it made his heart flutter. He wanted to just make out with him again, but they should probably talk first.
“I want you to be,” Mike said, reaching a hand up to cradle his cheek, “I love you.” He swore his heart stopped, the words he had dreamed about hearing over and over now dancing in his head. “I’m in love with you.” His writer really was determined to kill him, wasn’t he?
He leaned in to capture his lips in an aggressive kiss. The taste of paint still lingered, sour and definitely not healthy for the two of them to be consuming. They’d probably be so sick for the next week or so, but it was completely worth it in Will’s opinion. He felt so loved, taken care of with sweet words and sweeter touch. He never thought he’d get Mike Wheeler like this, it had only taken a decade.
“I love you too, I’m in love with you,” he gasped between kisses, hardly moving away to speak, “I always have been.”
••••
“You made it,” he grinned as Mike walked into the art building, dressed up nicely in a white button-up and black slacks. He wanted to kiss him so badly, suck at the fading marks on his neck. He couldn’t wait to pull that shirt off later, get his hands on his belt. He was basically bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting for permission before reaching out to take Mike’s hand.
Art events were so nice, everyone there was much more open and welcoming. Will felt comfortable being himself here, subtle but still affectionate with his boyfriend. Mike smiled at the touch and squeezed his hand, their shoulders bumping at the close proximity as they weaved through dozens of exhibits and even more people. Some glanced at their latched hands, but most of the time they only got a smile in response to the sight.
“Of course I did, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Mike promised, “especially with this secret project I haven’t gotten to see.” The mention of it made Will’s heart speed up a little. He had been teasing Mike about a last minute edition to his exhibit. Mike had seen all the rest of his works that he had been focusing on for months now, centered around their DnD party, especially Mike the Brave and Will the Wise. He was so proud of the work he had done, and Mike had been so amazed by it all. Hopefully he loved this edition too.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Mike squeezed his hand again and then let go of it, instead wrapping his arm around his waist. He thought it would take a while for Mike to get comfortable with touching like this, especially in public, but he had almost instantly fallen into the routine. In fact, his boyfriend could hardly keep his hands off him.
He stuck close to his side as he guided them to the exhibit, saying hello to a few of his friends and glancing at other amazing art that they passed. Sometimes he really didn’t feel like he belonged amongst all of this, but Mike always reassured him he did.
“Okay, here.” He paused, allowing Mike to step away as they reached the setup. It was seven pieces, staged strategically, telling the story of a campaign. Mike had seen all these pieces already, but he still stared in awed silence as if it were the first time all over again. It made Will blush, waiting until he reached the final piece at the end of the exhibit.
A massive canvas, splattered aimlessly with yellow and blue mixing into different shades of green. There was the print of a body in the center, leaving the impression of someone having leaned against it. Will felt a little warmth in him at the memory of being shoved back against the canvas while they made out, leaving his mark behind.
Mike seemed to notice it, then, taking a moment to register exactly what it was. He approached, gently reaching out and brushing his fingers across the imprint of Will on the paint. Anyone else would’ve gotten scolded for touching, but Mike was an exception always. He smiled at the revered way his boyfriend admired it, watching him for a moment before stepping up being him.
“I called it ‘The Artist and His Heart’.” he informed softly, feeling a little shy. The comment made Mike’s tracing pause, his hand hovering over the canvas still. Then, his boyfriend was turning to look down at him, eyes wide and a little glossy.
“Will-“ he murmured, reaching out to take one of his hands, “it’s beautiful.” Will beamed, squeezing his hand and entangling their fingers on pure instinct. The loud voices in the building faded into the background, the two of them just staring at each other. “Have I ever told you I love you?”
Will giggled, blushing heavily, “maybe once or twice,” he replied playfully. Mike was grinning back, tugging him a little closer by their connected hands. He wanted to kiss him, but that would have to wait until later, when they were alone. Mike’s hands gently rested on his waist, holding him close. “I love you too.”