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Wilbur laughs, chasing Tommy through the endless displays of potential house room decors. There’s people following them with their eyes, surely filled with judgment.
He could care less, however. He has a mission to complete: catch his boyfriend, who has decided it was a great idea to play tag in a busy store.
Wilbur never loses sight of him, despite Tommy’s obvious attempts to blend into the crowd, and he’s learned to spot Tommy from miles away. His blond hair being a dead give away, but Wilbur’s also simply an amazing, wonderful boyfriend like that.
Wilbur still remains mindful of people, electing not to yell after Tommy, and instead, sneak behind him. It ends up working because soon he wraps his arms around Tommy’s stomach, pulling him to his chest.
“Got you,” He whispers into Tommy’s ear.
Tommy groans, tilting his backwards to look him in the eye. Wilbur raises an eyebrow at him, an amused smile splayed on his face. “What? Upset you lost again?”
“It’s only because of your stupidly long legs that you win,” Tommy retorts. “It isn’t fair at all,” He pouts, bonking his head against Wilbur’s collarbone.
Wilbur continues smiling at his antics. God, he loves this guy. “Would a kiss make up for it, perhaps?”
Tommy hums, pretending to think about the offer. Suddenly, he frees himself from Wilbur’s grasp, “No! Bet you can’t catch me this time, Wil!”
He watches the blond scamper away, huffing fondly.
——
“Smells delicious, honey,” He compliments, voice posed as what Tommy would consider a posh tory.
Tommy pretends to pull food from the oven, “Oh, sweetie, that’s because it is delicious,” and places it in front of Wilbur. “Tonight, we feast like kings!”
Wilbur tilts his head up and to the side to look at him. “My favorite?”
“Indeed,” Tommy confirms, waltzing over to the sink and turning it on. No water comes out. He frowns, facing Wilbur, “The sinks broken.”
Wilbur laughs, getting up. “Good thing,” He says, rushing over to the next fake kitchen, “we bought a house with two kitchens, dearest.”
Tommy collides with him, hands on Wilbur’s forearms, “You’re so smart…” He’s grinning and Wilbur can’t help but grin back, staring into those eyes he loves so much. “So smart,” Tommy says more quietly.
He thinks Tommy is going in for a kiss, but he proves him wrong, once again dashing away from him. “Race you to the bedroom!”
Without a second thought, he rushes after him, doing his best to avoid bumping into people. When he reaches “their bedroom” Tommy is already laid in the middle of it, waiting expectantly for him.
He slowly crawls to him, putting some of his weight on Tommy and the rest on his left arm. Their faces are inches apart, breathing in each other's air. “Darling,” He starts, voice mockingly serious, “I don’t know how to tell you this…” Tommy stares at him confused. “But there’s a family in our bathroom.”
His eyes follow to the bathroom, Tommy doing the same and coming face to face with a family that looks both mortified and mildly disgusted. Tommy chuckles awkwardly, biting his thumb, a little habit of his that Wilbur’s noticed since before they started dating.
The family slowly walks away, and Tommy turns on his side, a mild redness on his cheeks. “This is fun.” Wilbur giggles, tucking a stray hair behind Tommy’s ear. “Your fun,” Tommy reiterates.
“Thank you,” He mumbles as Tommy’s balls up part of his shirt and drags him into a kiss. Wilbur gladly accepts it, sliding his hand to cup the back of Tommy’s head gently.
When Tommy pulls away, Wilbur follows trying to get another kiss in. Tommy lets him, both smiling through it.
——
“Okay, imagine this,” Tommy announces, stopping before a plush, velvet sofa. He plops down, his legs dangling over the edge. “We’re married, right?” Wilbur’s heart stutters. “And we're old, like, really old. We're sitting here watching our grandkids play in the garden.”
Wilbur couldn't help but grin at the image, imagining a more subdued, less chaotic version of their current, loud life. He sinks into the sofa beside Tommy, the plushness surrounding comfortably around him.
“You'd be complaining about the grandkids making noise, and I'd be making you tea.” Tommy illustrates, reaching for Wilbur's hand, intertwining their fingers.
“And you'd be forgetting to stir the sugar,” Wilbur counters with a playful nudge, “And then we'd have a whole argument about it, just like old times.”
Tommy laughs, a bubbling, infectious sound that always fills Wilbur with warmth every time he hears it. “Just like old times.”
Hmm, marriage.
——
Wilbur coughs obnoxiously, kneeling down on one knee. “Thomas Simons, would you do me the absolute favor of accepting my proposal to be with you till death do us apart?”
Tommy taps his chin, contemplating. “I do not see why not.” Wilbur hands him their makeshift ring, a cup, might he add. “It will combine our kingdoms and make us more powerful.”
“But, Prince Simons, I thought you loved me!” Wilbur gasps, a hand coming up to cover his heart, faux hurt.
Tommy tuts, patting Wilbur’s head. “How naive you are, Prince Soot. It is merely for convenience that we shall be wed.”
Wilbur rises to his full height, angered and confused. “You said we were meant for each other.”
“A lie I told you, to get you to fall for me, and how simple it was to do so. But I am a charmer, aren’t I?” Tommy shrugs, walking away from him.
Wilbur follows him, when Tommy halts to a stop and turns around, leaving Wilbur perplexed.
Tommy unexpectedly jumps, and it has Wilbur with no other choice but to catch him. “Tommy?” The blond merely clings to Wilbur like a koala would to a tree.
“I would say yes by the way,” Tommy speaks up, unhelpful to the questions swirling in Wilbur’s brain.
“You’d say yes to what?”
“To marrying you.”
Oh. He can’t begin to find the words of how happy that makes him. His thoughts are replaced with images of him and Tommy on the day of their wedding.
“That’s…” His voice chokes up halfway. “That’s good to know, Toms.”
Tommy’s nods in agreement. “Yeah.”
——
“What will I do without you?” Tommy yells, voice full of sorrow. “You can’t leave me like this. I won’t allow you to.”
Wilbur takes a hesitant step forward, “Darling, you have to understand this isn’t easy for me either.”
Tommy scowls, but the tears that follow diminish the effect of anger. Wilbur doesn’t want to leave. Why would he ever, when he has Tommy, but he has no choice. “I can’t live without you.”
He sighs. He can’t live without Tommy either. What is he doing? Wilbur lunges forward and tackles Tommy into the couch. “I can’t live without you too.”
Wilbur grabs both sides of Tommy’s face and kisses him with a wave of desperation. Tommy matches it, hooking his legs around Wilbur, the heels of his shoes digging into the back of Wilbur thighs.
“You’re a good actor,” Wilbur hushes out, “Almost thought the tears were real.” Tommy laughs, while Wilbur trails kisses down to his neck.
“Maybe because they were real.” At those words Wilbur pulls away from Tommy’s neck, worry laced on his face. “Are you okay?”
Tommy nods, fiddling with one of Wilbur’s curls. “Of course I am. It’s just me being stupid.”
Wilbur frowns. “You’re not stupid.” He never likes when Tommy dismisses his own feelings. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Tommy assures, smiling wide at him again. “You’re such a worry wart, Wilbs.”
“I care about you,” He defends, oblivious to the wandering eyes of others.
“I know you do. I also care about you.” Wilbur lets it go. He knows Tommy won’t talk about it, not yet at least.
——
Wilbur, ever the theatrical one, flings himself onto a red loveseat, dramatically sighing, “Oh, Tommy, I'm so tired from a long day of dealing with preposterous people!”
Tommy, perched on a nearby armchair, chuckles and replies, “Don't worry, my love, I'll take care of you. Rest, and let me fetch you a glass of… something.”
He mimics pouring an invisible drink from a nonexistent decanter, his eyes twinkling. Wilbur, in turn, pretends to take a sip, his face contorting in false ecstasy. “Ah, this is the life!” He exclaims, throwing his head back in exaggerated laughter.
Tommy appears from above the chair, and kisses Wilbur. “Even better!” Wilbur declares. “I’m no longer tired. I’ve been cured by the cute little blond!”
Tommy rolls his eyes playfully. “You better not be referring to me as little, William.”
“Do not fret, beloved. I was talking about the woman on the tele,” He points to the television that is off. “One look from her,” He says, arm lazily gesturing towards the device, “and poof! Not tired anymore.”
“Very funny,” Tommy deadpans. “Oh!” Wilbur turns to see what Tommy’s looking at. “Look there’s this really hot guy right over there! Be right back!”
Wilbur jolts up from the seat. What the hell? He was joking! A rush of jealousy comes over him. The ugly feeling burrowing deep in his stomach.
Wilbur reaches where Tommy is chatting away to someone on his phone. He’s just about to end the call for him when he notices it’s an ugly photo of Wilbur that Tommy took a few days ago while he was asleep. The feeling dissipates.
Tommy grins, “Wilbur, look! I would like you to meet the really hot guy I saw.”
“Very funny,” He says, repeating Tommy’s own words. His boyfriend stands, wrapping his arms around his neck, “You’re pretty hot too, you know,” and scratching his scalp lightly. “I could settle for you.”
Wilbur narrows his eyes, “You could settle for me?”
“I can, yes,” Tommy nods. “I don’t know what my boyfriend would think about that though.”
“What’s your boyfriend’s name,” He asks, playing along with Tommy.
“Wilbur. He’s a really sweet guy. Treats me right and all that.” Wilbur feels his insides turn to goo. Leave it to Tommy to have him weak like this.
“And all that?” He questions, swaying them side to side.
“Yeah, I’m very lucky to have him,” Tommy speaks earnestly. “Sometimes I think I’m not good enough for him and he’ll leave.” Ah, so that’s what earlier was about.
“He’d be an absolute idiot to leave you.” Wilbur would rather hurt himself than ever hurt Tommy and his pure heart. Tommy doesn’t deserve to experience heartbreak and he never will, not with Wilbur around.
“You think?” Tommy’s tone meek. Wilbur despises that Tommy ever had the chance to question his love for him.
“I know,” He states, with a certainty that would leave Tommy without a single ounce of doubt. Wilbur pulls Tommy into a languid kiss in the middle of another false kitchen. “I love you, sunshine.”
Tommy hides in his chest, cheeks bright red. Still, Wilbur hears the words returned, slightly muffled, but they were spoken. And he knows Tommy means it.