An anon asked:
“I’ll sell my soul for a fic in which Chris calls Will’s penis “Willdo”. I’ll sell my soul.”
Anon, you can send your soul here. No rush, just whenever you’re done using it. Made rebloggable by request.
“Did you ever name it?”
Will cracks a grin and looks down his body. Chris is curled sideways across the bed, his hair an absolute disaster where it’s resting against his thigh, and he’s currently cradling Will’s soft dick in the palm of his hand, his wrist shoved against his balls and a curious grin on his face while he just… holds it. They’ve been awake and lying around long enough for his morning wood to have abated, and he just feels heavy, lazy, like they could lie in bed all day just petting each other and chatting about bullshit and trading slow, sloppy kisses and dumb stories.
“Um, no.” He gets a hand in Chris’s hair then, pets him right back. “That phase passed me by while I was still kind of afraid of it and what it seemed to be into.”
Chris hums, runs his fingers over the head, looks at it. “Got it. You don’t seem scared of that anymore, though.”
Chris meets his eye then, and Will holds it and grins dirty right back. “No. Not so much.”
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