Chapter Text
Wilson Lee, Brando Bennett— two childhood best friends since the spring of sixth grade, when Wil had just moved schools all the way down from Wisconsin to Lockhart Texas. He never had many friends growing up due to how much he moved around, along with his shy, awkward nature. So Bran, the outgoing, spunky kid with a heavy lack of situational awareness, scoops Wilson under his wing.
They fit like two puzzle pieces with an unbreakable bond, arms metaphorically linked every step. If you couldn’t find one, you’d ask the other.
Until the brutality of high school hit them- well, Wilson mostly. Brando, being sociable as he is, was constantly invited to new cliques with the snobby, popular kids. The ones that would ridicule Wil for the way he spoke, how his hair was cut. The bullies that would shove past him in the hall, knock his backpack off his shoulders and call him slurs under their breaths. Wil always had a tough time around new faces, and it never did any favors being an openly queer kid in Texas.
It’s not like Brando didn’t defend him, no, he always did, but usually it would stretch things far worse. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, get in confrontations that usually ended in spread rumors, a black eye or bloody nose that he’d nurse the rest of the day. Wil hated everything about it, the bruises, the pity, except the rumors. He never minded the rumors, in fact, he’d cuddled up to the thought of them. Like maybe someday, Bran could really love a boy like him.
Despite how people viewed him— this bright spirited teen with a big future ahead of him, Bran’s high school years were a nightmare for him. He constantly tried to live up to his parents' harmful standards, crumbling under the weight of it all. No matter how well he did in school or how many sports he could succeed at, nothing he could do seemed to be enough for them.
To top it all, both his parents’ despised how close him and Wil’s friendship was, especially his father. Spitting about how he’s just ‘some fairy Brando dragged from the street’.
That led him falling into dangerous addictions, smoking and self-harm, that only someone as compassionate and empathetic as Wil could help him heal from.
After high school, Wil fled to a decent college down in California as an attempt to create an actual life for himself. He left behind his mother, a heavily cherished figure in his life for her strong suit of resilience and the thoughtful lessons she taught without him ever having to ask. His sweet dog, Bella, could only judge by the type of pets you gave her and nothing more. He ran from that stale hometown, everyday was another bore, unless it was spent around Brando.
Goodness, Brando. Not a day passed where he wished their contact hadn’t been lost somewhere deep in a lapping creek, staring at the brown racing jacket hung sullen in his closet. Leaving easily rid Brando from his life, but never his mind. So, against all will, he wrote up a lighthearted letter with trembling hands and stamped it to the last address he knew of. A half-exploded suitcase waited at his feet.
Brando Bennet was the youngest, deemed least talentless sibling, therefore stuck as the least prized. Tossed around and bruised by his parents, brothers and sisters alike. He never went off to college like Wil had, didn’t see himself in any field with any passion— plus, the only funds he carried came from his job at the parlor, scooping ice cream for teens and flaunty women he held no interest in, still stuck with his devilish parents in a place he’s forced to call home. All he has to show for that suffering is a useless gown and diploma. But God, he missed that boy so much.
That all changes on one fateful day, May 30th. Bran’s smile spread crazy across his cheeks as he held that postcard between his fingers. It was beautiful, adorned with a field of blue bonnets on one side, signed in that familiar hand writing, from, Wilson, on the other.
The beginning of their summer was filled with awkward slip-ups and blushing red as the face of a beet. After Bran was able to piece it all together- Wil’s undying love for him, his undying love for Wil, it’s like he couldn’t stand waiting anymore. As soon as the opportunity rose, Brando leaned into Wil’s breath and kissed him. Tangible sparks fluttered in the air around them as Wilson took onto Brando’s biding lips as well. They finally broke away open-mouthed, the mesmerizing sunset painting them both in a golden light.
And just like fate, a newborn romance began to blossom between the boys. They moved as two lovers in sync, sharing tender moments and wild-thumping hearts. As well as the wonderful, their love came with its own hardships.
Living in such a rural town, it was easy for things to slip out and get passed on to other judging mouths… and unfortunately for Brando, that’s exactly what happened.
After some pressing, Wilson was able to convince Brando to bring him along to his 21st birthday party, not under the faux label of ‘best friend’, but as his boyfriend. The thought of being so vulnerable, revealing himself in an unseen light around his friends was an absolutely terrifying one. With Wilson by his side, he was able to work up the courage, faced by his friend’s quick and startling acceptance for their relationship.
This is the stuff Bran only thought was possible in some over-dramatatized coming of age movie, smiling and giggling the whole ride as Wil drove the very tipsy Brando back to his house.
But all that goes up, must come down.
Through whispers and passed photos from the night prior, Brando’s parents came banging on his bedroom door, demanding answers to why he had an arm wrapped around that boy- and the reason he was resting his lips on his head.
Bran had no leg to stand on, not when the proof was right there in the photo, so he kept his head down and let them tear their relationship apart.
After that, he slipped back into addictions he swore he never would entertain again, and he tried to keep strong for Wil, truly, but his parents’ berating reminder of how sinful it all is- a boy loving a boy, made it that much harder.
All Wil’s calls rang unanswered that afternoon, and soon he was already on his way. When he found him in that hopeless state, cuts lining his hip, smoke on his breath, all he wanted to do was take care of him, just how he did those years ago.
Brando continued being cold, even with endless affection and assurance, and god did it throw Wilson for a loop. He went back and forth, analyzing and reanalyzing what he could’ve done to make him so upset- and how he could maybe overturn it.
Wil landed on one idea, a roadtrip. Five days, him and Brando alone, none of their problems chasing. Bran used to love stuff like that, camping, driving every day to a brand new, but decade old town. Moving quick isn’t anything Wil was never used to.
It would be fun! An easy way to mend him, make him happier, at least he hopes…