Chapter Text
For once, things were going well between Wilson and Brando. Wilson still hadn’t explained what had happened, but being friends with him again was more than Brando could ask for at the moment.
Wilson had introduced Brando to Maisie and Claire, and Brando had introduced him to Isabelle.
It felt like a breath of fresh air for Brando to finally have some actual friends, even though Maisie and Claire had seemed suspicious of Brando in the start for some reason.
His favorite part of all of this was seeing Wilson so confident and happy. He used to be this quiet shy kid with not many friends– so seeing him like this made his heart warm.
The five of them were on their way to a grocery store nearby. Isabelle and Maisie were walking side by side, Maisie complaining about something her boyfriend did back home, and Isabelle giving her advice.
Claire was telling a really dramatic story to him and Wilson. Brando wasn’t really listening though.
He was looking at Wilson. The way the sun made his eyes look brighter, the way his beautiful curls framed his face perfectly– and how he moved his hands when he brushed them out of his face.
He noticed how his jeans sat on his hips, and the inch of skin showing cause his shirt was slightly cropped. He noticed the way his lips moved when he came with comments to Claire’s story, and how attentive he looked.
He noticed how his eyeliner made his eyes look slightly bigger– which was driving Brando batshit for some reason.
When they finally arrived at the store, they split up into two groups– leaving Wilson and Brando on their own.
Brando took a cart, which earned a weird look from Wilson. “We need like four things, what could the cart possibly be for?” He questioned with a giggle.
“It enhances the experience.” Brando answered like it was the most obvious thing ever, which made Wilson laugh, which Brando took as a win.
Wilson joined Brando in pushing the cart, their hands brushing against one another’s.
“Alright,” Brando cleared his throat. “We need coffee, pasta, milk, and honey.”
“We can literally get coffee for free in the cafeteria,” Wilson said followed with an eyebrow raise. “And what do you need honey for?”
“Shh don’t question me.” He answered with a hint of playfulness laced in his voice.
Wilson just rolled his eyes in response to that– not the annoyed eye roll from before, this was different.
They aimlessly walked around the store until they found what they needed, bumping into a few things with the cart on their way.
As they were about to pay, Brando noticed the way the cashier kept eyeing Wilson down– he could tell that he wanted to say something, but was holding back. It gave Brando a weird feeling that he couldn’t quite place.
The cashier was a tall guy who looked about their age. He had curly blond hair and a name tag that said Charlie.
Was Brando jealous? Of course he wasn’t. It wasn’t any of his business, besides, The cashier hadn’t spoken a word to either of them besides a polite greeting seemingly directed at the both of them, so why would it even matter? Why did Brando have to overthink so goddamn much?
“Your total is 28.86.” The cashier said, flashing a smile at Wilson as he paid.
Wilson returned the smile with a flustered expression that caught Brando’s attention immediately. The eye contact lingered between Wilson and the cashier for just a beat to long for Brando’s liking.
He started putting the groceries in his bag, so they could get out as quickly as possible.
As they were just about to leave, the cashier started talking.
“So i was just wondering,” He started his sentence while remaining eye contact with Wilson. “If I could maybe get your number?” Brando actually felt his heart falling to his ass in that moment.
“Y–yeah, sure.” Wilson sounded anxious, but gave his number anyway.
“Well, see you around?” He asked with that same smile from before. Brando hated it.
“Yeah, totally.” Wilson answered, like he was trying to contain the excitement in his voice, the natural blush on his face saying everything Brando needed to know.
As the group reunited and walked back, Brando couldn’t help but think of the cashier, and the way he had smiled at Wilson.
Wilson was talking to the others, giving them a very detailed description about the guy in the grocery store.
This was stupid really, and Brando knew that. He was happy for Wilson, he truly was– so why was there a pit in his stomach? Why did it feel so wrong that Wilson was talking to other guys? And why did Wilson even need other guys? He had Brando, and wasn’t that enough?
He cussed himself out internally for even thinking that. Of Course Wilson was allowed to be friends with other guys or have a boyfriend or whatever.
Wilson was knee deep in his story about the guy from the grocery store when he felt Brando silently staring at him. He could feel his gaze lingering on the back of his neck without even having to look. He couldn’t get himself to tell him to stop, cause something about the attention made his stomach flip with excitement.
The guy from the store was cute, but he knew deep down that Brando would always be somewhere in the back of his mind no matter what, and he had accepted that– well he hadn’t, but he was working on it.
Night came quicker than expected, and the two boys were left alone in their dorm. They were both in Wilson’s bed, silently scrolling in their phones– something about these quiet and domestic moments made Wilson feel safe in a way that he wasn’t used to.
“You’ve been quiet today.” Wilson started out of nowhere, which caught Brando’s attention.
“I’m just tired, I guess.” Brando mumbled.
“Come on, Brando, I know that’s not true.” He replied softly, subconsciously replicating the same tone that Brando would use on him.
Wilson sighed when he didn’t get an answer. “I know you really well, whether you like that or not, and I can tell that you’re not telling me the truth.”
“What do you mean whether i like it or not?” Brando sat up instantly.
“I just– I didn’t mean it like that,” He closed his eyes for a second as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me if i did something.” His voice got smaller and more desperate. “Or if someone else did something, just please…Please talk to me.” The last words barely made their way out his mouth.
Brando looked at him for a second, like he was contemplating whether he wanted to tell the truth or not.
“It’s not…that I don't want to talk to you, I just don’t know what to say.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s hard to explain to you how I feel when I don’t even know it myself.”
Wilson gave him a small smile, “That’s okay.” He said while softly dragging his thumb over Brando’s knuckles. “We should sleep, you seem like you need it.” He said, looking up at Brando through his lashes.
He wanted an answer more than anything in the world right now, but decided against fighting for it, which felt like the most rational choice right now.
They laid in silence after that, no giggling or sharing stories that they’d already told each other a million times. Wilson took advantage of that and really listened to Brando’s uneven breathing, and how it slowed when he eventually fell asleep.
They were laying so close, almost like they’re one person. He was lying half on top of the other boy, his arms resting on Brando’s torso, and his head buried in the crook of his neck.
He lifted his head to get a better look at the boy who was currently sleeping in his bed. He looked so beautiful in the dim lighting– his hair was slightly messy and he looked impossibly peaceful. He could see the very faint freckles on his face, they reminded him of the stars when it’s completely dark outside, and your only source of light is the moon and the stars– which in a sappy, stupid way, kind of reminded him of Brando.
As he continued to admire Brando’s face, he couldn’t help but play with his hair, lightly tugging at the dirty blond strands. His hair was soft, and smelled lightly of Wilson’s shampoo, which made him chuckle quietly.
He looked at his face for a beat longer, before gently pressing a kiss onto his head. It was a light kiss, just a quick press of lips onto his forehead, but it felt like everything Wilson could ever have asked for. That soft, intimate moment that left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. This was all he allowed himself to take, and everything that he could ever have.
The realization hit him like a truck.
This was all that he would ever have, the stupid little fake scenarios that he’d made about them in his head late at night could never come true. tears welled up in his eyes before he knew it.
He looked down at Brando once again before laying down again. His tears soaked Brando’s shirt, but luckily he stayed asleep.
What usually felt like Wilson’s favourite place on earth, suddenly made him feel suffocated. He lifted his head slowly, and then removed the rest of his body from Brando’s. When he made it to the floor, it felt like he was stuck there– he couldn’t turn his gaze away from Brando, but he also couldn’t take more than this.
He finally forced himself to take a step away– making his way to the door as quietly as possible.
He gently pulled his shoes on, before slowly but surely cracking the door open and walking out.
He had no idea where he was gonna go, he just knew that he had to get out.
It was currently 2:36 am, so he just kind of assumed that none of his friends were awake.
He decided on a walk down the street, in hopes of calming himself down.
He reached for his wired headphones in his pockets and connected them to his phone.
The first song that played was Pictures of you by The Cure– which didn’t make him feel better in the slightest.
Big ugly sobs escaped his throat before he could even register it, and before he knew it, he was crying like an idiot as he walked down the street. He was slightly cold, due to him leaving his dorm in nothing but a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts.
I’ve been looking so long at these pictures of you, that i almost believe that they’re real
People were staring at him with concerned looks on their faces, but he kept walking nonetheless.
I’ve been living so long with my pictures of you, that I almost believe that the pictures are all i can feel
He started gradually speeding up, and before he knew it, he was running. Tears streamed down his face, and his lungs were burning, but he didn’t stop. He bumped into a few people in the process, not even taking the time to mumble a half assed apology.
There was nothing in the world that i ever wanted more, than to feel you deep in my heart
As the song was nearly done, he stopped running. He was out of breath and his face was puffy and red from crying. He sat down at the nearest bench and opened his phone– not so delighted to see three missed calls from Brando
Shit
Along with the missed calls, he also found three messages from him.
Brando: Where are you??
Brando: Wil please pick up the phone
Brando: I’m worried about you Wil, did I do something?
He felt really bad, he truly did, But he couldn’t talk to Brando, not now.
He had tried to just ignore his feelings in hope that they would go away, or at least that they would fade a little bit, but nothing seemed to work– he felt more hopeless than ever.
He figured that he needed to at least let Brando know that he was okay, even if he couldn’t actually talk to him.
He decided to call the only one of his friends who might be awake.
Isabelle picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?” She answered, to Wilson’s surprise, she actually didn’t sound tired at all. “Wilson? Is everything okay?” She sounded worried, and suddenly he felt like he couldn’t speak.
His breath came out ragged over the tinny speaker before the tears came back. “I need you to tell Brando that I’m okay, and that he didn’t do anything wrong.” He sobbed into his phone.
“Wilson slow down, you don’t sound okay, what happened.” Her tone didn’t sound rushed, but rather gentle, which made him feel just slightly better.
“I can’t explain, just please tell Brando that it’s okay.” He started talking faster.
“Okay,” She finally said. “But are you alright, Wilson? You can tell me–”
“I'm fine,” He cut her off. “Just please call Brando.” His voice got smaller.
“I’ll call him.” She said in a caring voice.
“Thank you.” He sobbed before hanging up.
Brando was close to losing it all when he heard his phone buzz. To his dismay, it wasn’t Wilson, but he picked up the phone regardless.
“Isabelle?” He sounded stressed when he picked up the phone.
She spoke fast, similar to how Wilson had sounded over the phone just a couple of minutes ago. “Hey, Wilson called–” Brando’s heart nearly skipped a beat at the mention of his name. “He told me to tell you that he’s okay.” That made Brando feel a little more relieved. “He wouldn’t tell me what happened, he just told me to call you and say that he’s okay.” Brando’s heartbeat sped up.
“He didn’t say anything else?” Brando confirmed.
“No, but he was crying.” Brando felt even more worried than he had before.
There was silence for a couple of moments, before Isabelle spoke up. “Meet me outside, you can’t be alone, not when you’re in a situation like this.” She said, not like an offer, more like a set decision.
“Okay.” He mumbled before hanging up.
The walk from his dorm to their usual bench outside felt daunting, but he managed.
Isabelle was already sitting there when Brando got there. She had a worried look on her face that she tried and failed to hide.
She gave him a small smile that he tried to reciprocate, as he sat down next to her.
“I know that you’re worried about him, but I promise you that everything is going to be okay.” She tried her best to comfort him, he responded by giving her a small nod.
“Do you want to talk about something else?” She offered.
“Yeah.” He responded quietly.
The conversation shifted from one random conversation topic to the other, which did make Brando feel a little better, he even found himself laughing at her jokes.
“I’m glad that I could make you laugh, despite everything.” She suddenly said.
“I’m glad that you did.” He replied with a small smile.
Noone said anything for a few beats, they simply looked at each other. He could see a small flush forming on Isabelle’s face. He was scared to break the eye contact first– which Isabelle did by closing her eyes and leaning in.
Suddenly her lips were on his, and Brando felt unable to pull back. He kissed her back, without being sure why.
The moment should have felt perfect, like in the movies where the guy kisses the girl and suddenly everything makes sense, and it feels like your entire life– all your happiest moments, mistakes, grief and every interaction that you’ve ever had has led up to this moment.
But it didn’t. It felt wrong. It felt so wrong.
He was close enough to smell her perfume, that perfume. But it felt wrong on her– not bad, just wrong– he couldn’t quite place why.
He lightly tugged at her hair, which caused a tiny sound to escape her throat. Her hair felt smooth and silky, but not soft in the way Wilson’s curls did.
She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, causing involuntary sounds coming out of Brando’s mouth. Isabelle was breathing heavily, the sound reminded him of the way Wilson would sound when his breath slowed in his sleep, but still not quite the same.
Her skin was hot against his touch, he traced circles on her waist like when he would attempt to calm Wilson down, But her skin was too hot, not like Wilson who needed close to a million blankets just to avoid freezing.
He didn’t understand why he was noticing all of this, until the word “Wil” slipped out of his mouth without even meaning to. It was quiet and imperceptible, almost like it wasn’t there– but Brando felt the impact of it like a dagger to his chest.
Oh.
Oh.
The realization hit him harder than anything, a million different emotions pouring over him at the same time. It was hard to explain, it was like everything suddenly made sense, but at the same time, he was so confused. A single tear fell down his face as he pulled back to look at Isabelle.
Her smile faltered when she looked at his face. “Are you okay?” She asked, looking extremely confused.
“Y-yeah, I’m just– It’s just overwhelming, you know?” He tried to keep himself together.
“Okay,” She whispered with a smile, as she pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
He tried to act put together, like he hadn’t just had his entire perspective on his life changed– and not in a good way.
“It’s late, we should both get some sleep.” She said as she stood up.
“Yeah, we probably should.” It was all too much, like he couldn’t breathe.
When Brando finally shut the door to his dorm, he let out tears that he didn’t even know he was holding in. He cried until his head hurt and he felt dizzy, he was nearly choking on his own tears as he laid down in Wilson's bed.
He grabbed the nearest pillow, positioning it on top of himself in the same way Wilson would always lay on his chest. He kept sobbing, not holding back in the slightest.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” He whispered with ragged sobs into the pillow.
He cried until he physically couldn’t get any more tears out and his entire body was shaking. He ended up falling asleep like that, heavyhearted and worried out of his mind.