Work Text:
the texas sun slowly retrieved from its place above the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over everything in its path.
glowing rays of sunlight made its way into wilson's bedroom, lingering on the open notebook nestled in his bedsheets and the guitar next to it.
pages and pages were filled of wilson's small cursive handwriting, dozens and dozens of love songs in the pages. he sat on the bed, picking up his pencil then setting it down and grabbing the guitar.
all of his love songs, though he deemed them amazing or horrifying, were about one person. his best friend since they were little, the one who had been there since forever, the one who he would give the entire world for.
brando.
he'd sung some of his songs to brando before, hoping the other boy wouldn't notice it was about him. brando would always listen and compliment them, with a smile and that glint in his eyes that hinted at something more but never quite explained.
wilson sang about all the sleepless nights they spent just talking. the time he got so upset over a grade and brando was his anchor, even if his grade was even worse. the time brando fought a classmate because he called wilson a slur. the time brando's parents arguing got so bad he snuck over to wilson's place and spent the night crying in his best friend's arms. he wrote about the time brando dated a girl in tenth grade and it ended in disaster.
speaking of that, wilson always thought brando was straight. and even now, as he's planning to confess his feelings in the near future, he couldn't shake the feeling - what if brando doesn't see him that way? what if he was straight all along? what if the confession ruins their friendship?
his head is spiraling at this point, so he puts the guitar down and closes the notebook, eyes traveling to the scenery out his window, still thinking about the other boy.
—
somehow, for whatever stupid reason, they were on a roof. the roof of wilson's house.
wilson just sang him a few of his recent works, the ones he was the most proud of. the wind occasionally passed by, carrying his angelic voice to the trees and causing his curls to fly into his face, which, according to brando's humble opinion, made him look silly and absolutely adorable in the faint glow of moonlight.
wilson climbed back into the house, squeezing through the window to put his guitar away before scooting back out, resuming his spot next to brando.
wilson's gaze drifted to the tiny glowing little dots of light in the night sky. stars. he loved stars. he had always been one to connect the dots in his mind until they spelled out brando.
"bran," he turned to the other boy, who was stealing glances at him and flushed slightly at the sudden motion. "do you like stars?"
brando hesitated for a moment, before smiling. "they're pretty."
"but you're the prettiest one." he added, in this ridiculously tiny voice, half hoping wilson wouldn't hear him, the other half hoping he would.
"huh?" wilson turned his head. apparently it was too small to be audible, but not small enough to go unheard.
"nothin'." brando chewed on his lip, looking back up at the sky. there was something so fascinating about stars to him, mainly because wilson liked them, partly because something so majestic in nature but exquisite to the human eye.
he turned back to wilson, and found the boy gazing at him with an unexplanable fondness in those brown eyes of his. he looked back, really looked at him. the way his curls gently danced in the wind. the way his cheeks were a shade of faint rosy.
and then, both their eyes dropped to the other's lips.
brando looked back up at wilson, and saw something in the way he looked at him that made him make the final move.
he kissed him.
somewhere in the distance, a shooting star glided past at that exact moment.
wilson's eyes widened at first, like he didn't believe this was really happening. then he quickly melted into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut, enjoying the way brando's lips felt on his. and he kissed back, until brando broke apart first to catch his breath.
"woah." wilson mumbled, his brain short-circuiting and still refusing to believe the one thing he's been waiting for since he knew what love was just happened.
"wilson," brando began, cupping his face in his hands. "can i be your boyfriend?"
wilson didn't speak for a second, then broke off into a fit of giggles. "yes."
brando let out a sigh of relief. "i thought you were going to say no or something and then i have to curl up into a ball and die." he laughed.
their second kiss landed softly, more gentle and less unexpected.
"you know," wilson said dreamily. "all the love songs i've sung to you, and even the ones i haven't. they were about you, always about you."
"i know." brando said simply. "i was just waiting for when you'd tell me yourself." he placed a kiss on wilson's forehead.
they spent the night outside until it got chilly, and made their way back inside.
that night, curled up next to his boyfriend, listening to his steady breathing, with one of brando's arms wrapped around his waist like an anchor, for the first time since forever wilson didn't make a wish when the clock hit 11:11.
he already had what he wished for.