♡ ~ It's Like You Want Me ~ ♡

chapter 2

⚠️ SOME WORDS MAY BE DISTURBING FOR SOME PEOPLE SO DONT READ THIS OR SKIP THIS CHAPTER ⚠️

Mike grabbed Will's arm wordlessly and dragged him to the opposite side of Dustin and Lucas. Even if they were in a fight, it went unspoken that Will was on his team.

"I would get mad at the lack of asking for my superior input, but I don't want Mike's uncoordinated ass on my team, and Mike and Dustin together would be a massacre,"  Lucas teased, all too pleased with himself.

"You have a lot to say for someone who hasn't even started playing let," Mike scowled, positioning himself behind Will because of his height advantage.

Lucas served the ball with an annoying amount of precision, and Will jumped up to set it. Mike twitched in his shorts at the view, gaping blatantly and then promptly got hit in the face with the ball.

Lucas and Dustin high-fived, everyone erupting into laughter.

"Seriously Will? You're supposed to be on my team," Mike reminded, earning an endearing shrug in reply.

After a solid five minutes of watching Will bounce towards the ball, ass jiggling and straining against his tight shorts as he moved about, Mike was starting to have a genuine pants problem. Specifically in the relentless tightness of them. After Dustin hit the ball a little farther back than Will had expected, he jogged backwards, trying to spare Mike. Instead, he collided into him, Mike's hard-on pressed right up against Will's soft ass cheeks. Mike bit his lip to hold back a moan as his dick throbbed.

Will turned to face him, blushing a little. Shit, had he felt it? "Sorry," he whispered shyly, just for Mike to hear.

"T-that's okay," Mike assured, clamping his mouth shut before he could beg him to do it again. He tried to mentally force Dustin to hit the ball the same way again, but unfortunately, he was no El.

After a particularly cruel spike from Lucas, Will dove onto the basement floor, and Mike had to remind himself to close his mid-ogle jaw, hoping Lucas and Dustin mistook it for an impressed-at-athleticism stare (or whatever it was straight boys got excited about). Will's unreal ass had almost flopped in slow motion as he dove, and Mike decided with an embarrassing leak of pre-cum that he could not handle this anymore. He was getting lightheaded from all the blood rushing to his angry dick.

"I-I'm just gonna watch," he muttered incoherently, surely red in the face as he stuffed a pillow on his lap in a swift motion as he sunk into the couch.

Will turned to him, concern plastered on his pretty face. Mike offered him a weak smile.

"That okay with you, Will?" Dustin checked.

Will raised his eyebrows to Mike in a silent communication. Mike read it as, "Can I keep playing, or do you want us to stop?"

Mike nodded encouragingly, as if watching Will's body as he played wasn't sending him to an early grave. (Or something slightly less dramatic).

"Yeah, that's alright," Will answered after Mike's confirmation.

"Not like Mike was helping anyway," Lucas agreed with a laugh that spread through the room.