Breathing In Your Dust (I Wanna Be Yours) / Greatwise

Dancer

Notes: dancer by emma foley.
*content warning for mature sexual content*

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Chapter One: Dancer

Radiohead played at a low volume, the melody mixing with the sound of swishing water as Will swirled his paintbrush around in the mug he'd claimed for painting. He brushed the bristled against a piece of ripped up cloth then dipped it into the puddle of red on his pallet. He mixed it with a bit of yellow then white to achieve the shade of orange he wanted. He swiped it against his canvas in gentle strokes, a beam of light projecting from a lamppost over the figure of a boy beneath it.

A gentle rapping pulled him from his trance. His head popped up, looking to the door for a second before the rapping came again, further to the left. He looked to the window and his body pulsed with the mixed feeling of guilt and pleasure as Mike waved his hand and gestured for him to let him in. Will sighed softly, standing from his chair as he dropped his paintbrush back into the mug. He walked to the door first, flipping the lock before opening the window.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, sparing a glance at the digital clock on his dresser. It was nearing 1am, the glowing blue numbers blinking as another minute passed.

"I wanted to see you," Mike shrugged as he climbed through the window. Deep down, Will knew better. But on the surface, with Mike grinning at him from beneath overgrown curls and his hands instantly taking ahold of Will's waist, all he could feel was satisfaction. His heart raced when Mike drew him in and started trailing kisses down his neck. His stomach swooped when his hands slid up his tee shirt, cold hands touching warm skin. His breath stuttered when he caught a patch of skin between his teeth, biting and sucking until it was raw.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Will whispered like he always does.

"You always say that," Mike said, like he always does.

"Yeah, because we shouldn't be doing it at all," he said, tipping his head back to give Mike more access.

"Will, you know I'm not ready," he said, pulling Will's shirt over his head and working to unbutton his own.

"Then why don't you break up with El? For good. Do you know how shitty it feels to secretly hook up with your sisters on-again-off-again boyfriend?" He said as he let Mike unbuckle his belt and slide it through the loops of his pants.

"I can't just end it with her," Mike huffed, dropping his tee shirt and pushing Will down onto the bed, climbing on top of him and dipping down to kiss at his chest.

"You can't love her as much as you say you do if you can do this," Will muttered.

"Look," Mike sat back with another huff, running a hand against his hair, "this is the best scenario for all of us, okay? El can't be hurt if she never knows, I get to explore this side of me, and you get attention," Will flinched and Mike sighed. "I'm not trying to be mean, Will," he ran a hand against Will's cheek, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips, tugging at his bottom lip the way that makes Will's breath tremble, "but it's not like guys are lining up outside your bedroom window," he whispered. Will's stomach fell, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as Mike worked his pants off.

Will closed his eyes for a second, breathing in deep as Mike leaned up to work his own pants off. Being gay isn't unheard of anymore, and it's not as dangerous to be out as it once was, but Will remembers his father face when the AIDs epidemic hit. He remembered his father's words, full of misplaced hatred and closed-mindedness. He remembered his fathers accusations against Jonathan when he defended the community, he remembered the black eye on Jonathan's face the next day. He understood the fear. But he wasn't scared, he was tired.

He played the game nonetheless. Opening himself up while Mike watched, pressing lazy kisses to his lips. He released himself to the pleasure when Mike pushed in, pushing and pulling and chasing his pleasure. He tried to let his brain go quiet, to surrender to the pleasure. He tried to let himself enjoy the feeling of Mike's hands on him, his lips on his skin, marking him like he actually belonged to him.

He stayed for the obligatory five minutes afterwards. Once he'd thrown away the condom and laid back down. Letting Will lie against his chest as the seconds ticked by. Will covered himself with his blankets as he watched Mike get dressed, running his fingers through his hair

"See you later, man," he said, their eyes not meeting. No good bye kiss before Mike made his way over to the window, slipping out silently. Will stared at the billowing curtains as the late night breeze came through. Something rancid settled in his gut, like it always does. He's not sure how many times he needs to feel like this in order to learn his lesson. But Mike had a point. There isn't a line of guys standing outside of his window. There isn't one other guy whose eyes might linger. Will had long since settled into the awkward, nerdy kid that wasn't handsome enough or funny enough to be worth the time.

With a heavy chest, he shoved his blankets off, tugging his briefs back up before moving to the window to shut it, locking it then drawing the curtains. He slipped a tee shirt on, one of Jonathan's old ones that were too big on him. He grabbed his headphones and plugged them into his Walkman, setting the volume on high as he sat himself down at his desk again, picking his paintbrush back up.