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"Wilbur, if you don't tell me where we're going I'm going to break up with you." the blond deadpanned, arms crossed over his chest and not looking amused in the slightest bit.
The older man laughed, one hand taken off the wheel to rub the boy's thigh soothingly. "Just trust me. I promise you that you'll love it."
The drive went on, the couple bickering about whatever this surprise was.
Wilbur drank another shot, mind starting to get hazy. His head ached, and the room seemed to be spinning. Had it always been like this?
"We're almost there, Tommy," the brunette man smiled, taking a quick glance at the boy, who looked away to hide the fact his face was red and that a grin was right on his pretty face. "I can still see you, love." Wilbur chuckled.
"Shut up!"
He wonders if the boy would look at him with that disappointed expression if he knew. God, he hated being under that look, but he would take it if it meant Tommy came back to him.
"I love you."
"You're only saying that so I won't get mad."
"Is it working?"
"Fuck off!"
"I guess not."
It hurts. His heart ached. He misses him. Misses his touch. His laugh. His smile. Everything.
"Wil, eyes on the road."
"But you're so pretty.."
He fell down on his knees and sobbed, holding his head as if to stop the memories from crashing back in. Stop. Stop. Stop.
"WIL!"
He was a mess. He should have listened. He was a fucking idiot.
The boy grabbed the wheel himself and turned the car just in time to avoid the bus driving towards them, only to turn too much and crash on the side of the road.
"Tommy.." he cried, clenching his fists. He was pathetic. His lover wouldn't hear him. "Tommy.." he shut his eyes tightly, his breathing starting to increase.
"Wil.."
He punched the floor, hissing at the pain and ignoring the blood coming out of the blooming bruise.
"Wil, I'm sorry.."
"Tommy, it's fine.. Stay with me, sweetheart. Stay with me.."
He remembered his love crying, bleeding out, apologizing over and over again. Why did he apologize? It hadn't been his fault. Tommy hadn't done any wrong.
Sirens. Murmurs. Tommy had gone quiet and Wilbur gripped the boy's hand tightly.
"Stay with me."
The door to his flat opened and the drunk man didn't bother to check on who it was.
Niki sighed, rubbing her temples before going to clean up the mess that Wilbur made, lips pursed and eyes occasionally going to check on said man, who was sobbing and calling out for his long gone lover's name.
She grabbed the small broom and dustpan set to clean up the glass shards from the shot glass that the drunk had dropped.
After cleaning up the mess, she moved onto the human mess, who was still babbling about Tommy. She threw his arm over her shoulder, an arm around his waist as he guided him to sit on the sofa. She took off his shirt and grabbed a towel to wipe his torso of sweat, helping him put on a different and more comfortable shirt.
"I miss Tommy," Wilbur cried into Niki's shoulder as the woman bandaged up his bruised fists. "I need Tommy back.."
Niki didn't have the heart to remind him the boy couldn't come back. That the boy had been dead for six months now.
She moved on to changing him out of his trousers, looking away as she wiped the sweat of his legs and changed him into sweatpants.
Still not saying anything, she went to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, walking back to the sofa and making Wilbur drink.
"Wil-" she started but Wilbur whined. "Only Tommy calls me that!" he slurred, choking a bit on the water.
Niki huffed and gripped the man's wrists, forcing him to limp and lean back on the sofa. "Wil. Please."
Wilbur blinked up at her, tears still streaking down his face as he gave up on resisting. He was pitiful.
Niki held his hands gently in hers, humming a song until he slowly drifted to sleep.
She hated this. Hated seeing him so helpless.
What could she do? She was only ever his best friend, in love with a man who wasn't over his dead lover.
She was only an idiot who couldn't give up on that man, no matter how hard she tried to.
It shouldn't hurt so much. But it does. And it's so unbearable.
"I know you're in love with him," the younger boy murmured, tone kind without any hidden malice. "And I'm not mad about it. It's kinda understandable."
Niki looked the boy in the eyes before looking away, eyes watering.
It hurts that he was so kind. So understanding.
He deserved the world, and Wilbur was his world.
It's so fucking unfair that he couldn't even have that.