EJ runs his finger down Will's cheek, not soft, not hard but chilling. Will backs away, one step, two steps, three, until his back hits EJ's desk. "Stop," he whispers.
The older man's chuckle is dark and rich and it sends frissons of dreaded delight through Will's veins, from his head right down to his cock. "William, you and I both know you don't want me to stop." EJ moves closer, closer, until he is only inches from Will's face, his body. Will can smell his cologne, expensive and spicy.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Will says. "I don't want to be here. You're blackmailing me."
EJ's eyes are mesmerizing, his smile predatory. "There are things I can make you do, but don't lie to yourself, there are other, more… intimate thing that you will give me freely."
Will gulps, wants to say that he won't give anything freely, that EJ will have to take him, but he doesn't get a chance to say it, because suddenly EJ is kissing him. His lips are soft and knowing and his body hard as he pushes Will against the desk…
And Will drags himself out of the fantasy. His head aches and his cock is heavy in his hand, but he will not come thinking about EJ DiMera.
"Jesus Christ," he mutters, "when did I get to be so messed up?" He turns to his computer screen, the oversized image of a young blond bent over while a dark hair man fucks him. There is no way, at this point, that Will can come without feeling dirty, but he needs to find release. He closes his eyes, tries to picture himself with an anonymous man, someone safe, anyone but EJ.
And then there's Sonny, sweetness in his smile, like sunshine in Will's blackness. It shouldn't make Will feel better, because really, who pictures their best friend while they're masturbating? That's a little creepy, too. But after the dark guilt that came with EJ, envisioning Sonny feels clean and right.
So Will lets himself go, losing himself in Sonny's imagined arms.