(unveiling this fic i wrote 3 years ago in case anyone is interested 😎)
any semblance of touch (8.8k, mature)
“Nothing,” Will says, right into Mike’s ear. “Still feeling good?” So good. Mike makes sure to not say it aloud this time. “I think,” Mike says slowly, heart pounding, “I need” — Will pulls back just a little, just enough for their noses to bump against each other, clumsy, and Mike bites the bullet — “one more.” Will is still in Mike’s lap, which is maybe not very platonic of him, and the joint has smoldered its way down to the end, nearly over, all eaten up by the fire. Will swallows thickly, then leans closer, a perfect imitation of their positions from earlier. Mike isn’t sure how long it’s been, but fire has been eating away at him too, this whole time, leaving him on the brink of going up in smoke, slow and burning and so good. “Yeah?” Will murmurs, realization dawning on him, eyes wide. “One more?”
or: Mike’s still new to this whole smoking thing. Will has a few ideas.












