Fics like My Muse. All Mine.

“Will…” Mike whines again, his hips twitching as if he wants to grind down, but he knows he’s not allowed to yet. Will pauses his drawing momentarily to swipe a thumb soothingly over Mike’s waist, pinching a little just to see him squirm, “I’m nearly done.” He promises, his voice a husky rasp, thick with lust. Mike shivers hard, a whimper rattling from his lips, the skin around his eyes red and moisture shimmering in his eyes. He’s so desperate, but he’ll be good, Will knows. His drawing isn’t the best. The fine lines are shaky, the shading is off, but given the treat in his lap, Will doesn’t hold the poor quality against himself. It’s not that bad, and he’ll probably end up refining or redoing it later. It may not be a van-gogh piece, but it captures the supple flesh of Mike’s thighs, folded at the knees and squished against Will’s legs. He draws Mike's lips, plush and glistening, the teary look on his face as desperation builds, and the defined dip of Mike’s waist, his hands bound in string behind his back. --- Or: Will's classmate draws Mike in her sketchbook, and Will gets a little possessive.

Fics like My Muse. All Mine.

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