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The night was peaceful, filled with warmth from the house's heater. Brando and Wilson were in bed, about to get ready for sleep. Well, at least, they always said that they would sleep soon, and then ended up talking for hours straight. Or do other things that don’t include much talking.
After a year of being married, after years of going through a bunch of obstacles that had kept them apart, they were now settled down—happy, calm, and drama-free. Things were going well between them.
Wilson sniffled, turning around to face Brando with a smile. “You look so beautiful right now.”
“I look beautiful with messy hair and bags under my eyes?” Brando giggled.
“Yeah, you’re always beautiful.” Wilson twirled his light brown lock around his finger. “You know, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, right?”
“You say that as if we’re about to die.”
“I just love that we were able to make things wo—” Wilson let out a cough. He had to stop playing with Brando’s hair. “Work out.”
“My love…” Brando pulled him in by the waist, tapping his pink nose. “Are you sure you’re not getting sick?”
Wilson shook his head. “I told you I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. I can take off work tomorrow if you need me to. I’m always down to take care of you.”
Wilson let out another sneeze. “I’ll be fine in the morning. It’s just allergies.”
“Allergies in the winter? You don’t even have allergies in the spring.”
“It’s allergies. I’m fine.”
Brando wrapped his arms around Wilson and held him like he would disappear if he let go. He looked down at Wilson and watched as he closed his eyes, using his chest as a pillow. He always smiled at the thought that the person in front of him was now officially his forever.
The day they got married, he had promised himself that he would never let him go. Not only that, but he had promised that he would be there in sickness and in health. That was what marriage implied, and he had no plans to not be present for his husband’s first time being ill while married.
If anyone was capable of taking care of a sick Wilson, it was Brando. He had already made plans for what he would do tomorrow to make his husband feel a little better. Brando closed his eyes, keeping Wilson locked in his arms, and fell asleep.
When the sun came up, he texted his boss saying he couldn’t go to work today. He called it a “family emergency” and to him, it wasn’t a lie. The love of his life was sick, that was enough to turn on his radar. Wilson was his priority before anything else. He’d drop whatever he was doing if it meant being there for him. Taking care of him while he was sick was the bare minimum.
Wilson went downstairs to the kitchen, seeing that Brando was making blueberry pancakes. As they were cooking, he went up to Wilson to check his temperature with the back of his hand.
“You’re burning up, baby,” Brando said softly with concern laced in his words. “I knew you were getting sick when you started to cough last night. I already called off work for you.”
“What? No! I told you not to do that. I said I was fine.” Wilson huffed.
“I’ve known you for years. I know when you’re not fine. Why are you so insistent on being fine? It’s okay to be sick. It’s okay to need a break. It’s also okay to be taken care of by your lovely husband.” He smirked.
“Yeah, whatever. Go check on the pancakes before they burn. If I’m going to allow my ‘lovely husband’ to take care of me, then he better not be feeding me burnt pancakes.”
Brando chuckled and went back to cooking the pancakes. Once they were done, he prepared them exactly how Wilson enjoyed eating them; stacked nothing more or less than three, doused with syrup, butter in between the layers, and whipped cream on the very top.
The smoke went into Wilson’s nose as they were placed in front of him. His nose unfortunately wasn’t working properly. He couldn’t smell the savory cooking crafted by his husband’s hands. It made him a little frustrated. He hated being sick, but at least he had Brando next to him for the day.
Wilson took a bite of the pancake. It tasted a little bland. His taste buds weren’t working as well either. They were still enjoyable, though. Anything Brando made for him was enjoyable.
“I’ve always told you to become a chef, and you never listened to me,” Wilson mumbled.
“I did listen to you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Like I said, I’m your personal chef.” He smiled. “Do you really want other people eating my food and going, ‘Mm, this is so good. I want to fuck the chef who made this!’”
Wilson laughed under his breath. “Who in their right mind would even say that? You’re so weird.”
“I don’t know, Will. I’m a pretty attractive guy.”
“I hate you.”
“Then why are you married to me?”
“Because I love you,” he said with a raspy voice.
“You’re the most indecisive person I’ve ever met in my life.”
Wilson tried to keep his cough in, but the more he tried to stop it, the harder it became to contain. He dropped his fork and let out a hacking cough.
Brando furrowed his brows and frowned. “And you said you were fine.”
“I am fine.”
“You’re clearly not fine. After you eat, you’re taking a shower to help with your fever. You’re not going to say no. Then I’ll give you medicine. I'd better not see you out of bed either. Do you hear me?” Brando told him with a stern tone.
Wilson’s voice was all whiny. “But Bran I—”
“Nope.” He put his finger on Wilson’s lip. “I don’t want to hear another complaint. Now eat.”
Wilson groaned and continued to eat his food. He secretly loved when Brando was this way, however. Being cared for was something that used to be a lie he made up in his head. It turned into his reality after he met Brando.
Sometimes he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t met Brando. Or if anyone else could give him the same type of care Brando did. Whenever he did, he concluded that he truly couldn’t see himself with anyone other than Brando. Even if they had the same personality with a different name, Wilson and Brando wouldn’t be the same as Wilson and Holden, or whatever other names existed out there.
Once Wilson was done eating, Brando picked him up bridal style and led him to their room.
They had two showers in the house, but Wilson liked the one in their room a lot more. No one else lived with them, but he said it was less likely someone would walk in on him showering in their bedroom. His best friend Mira had a key to their house. She came around without notice all the time.
Brando set him down on the floor, but he grabbed his wrist to make sure Wilson didn’t try running away. He had learned from experience that he would.
Wilson tapped his feet and looked down at the floor. “I can shower on my own.”
“I don’t trust you to shower on your own. You’ll go in the shower, put water down your body, and leave just to spite me,” Brando replied.
“I wouldn’t do that!”
He raised his brow. “Really?”
“Okay, maybe I would do that…”
“Exactly.”
Brando undressed him and led him into the shower. He adjusted the water to a good temperature and picked up the shower head from the holder. Wilson closed his eyes as the water drenched him. Once he was fully wet, Brando grabbed the loofah and put a decent amount of body wash on it.
“I don’t see why I have to take a shower. I showered just last night,” Wilson said.
Brando rolled his eyes. “I already told you why. Do you not listen to me?”
“I only listen to you when you’re not annoying.”
“Shut your damn mouth.”
“What if I don’t?”
“I’ll shut your mouth for you.” He lifted his hand to give Wilson’s jaw a tender squeeze.
“Then do it.”
Brando tilted his head with a smug grin and eyed him up and down. He placed his arms around Wilson’s shoulders and went in for a kiss. This was usually what ended up happening when they showered together. One of them would start flirting, the other would get distracted.
The kiss started as small pecks, something Brando would always do to tease Wilson. He’d back away slightly, feed him little by little and get him in the mood. And once Wilson had enough of being fed crumbs, he would take over and make his claim.
Whenever they kissed, whether it was soft and sweet or heated, the two of them couldn’t control themselves. They were addicted, in love, and nothing could ever tear them apart.
Wilson was the one who added in some tongue. The loofah and shower head were on the ground, abandoned and sitting there waiting to be touched again. Brando’s goal for showering was temporarily forgotten about.
Wilson rubbed Brando’s cheek with his thumb as they continued to kiss. Their shower had turned from being showered to showering each other with love.
That same spark from the first time they kissed remained each time they had a taste of the other’s lips. It was filled with electricity, it ran down their limbs and blessed them with affection. And whenever they shared a kiss, any type of kiss, it made them crave another one.
They both backed away and laughed. Brando’s eyes were consumed with adoration. He couldn’t believe that someone could make him feel such a way.
“You’re going to get sick now,” Wilson said.
“That just means I can kiss you however much I want because my fate has already been decided.” He gave him one last, quick kiss.
“Stop that.” Wilson took the shower head and sprayed it right onto Brando’s face. His cheeks were bright red. “You’re too nice to me. You’re also really fucking cringey.”
“You complain either way.” Brando pulled Wilson’s hand down to stop the water from getting into his face. “Would you rather me tell you I don’t want to be around you because you’re sick?”
“Yes!”
“You’re such a damn liar.”
He pushed Wilson lightly with his hand on to his cheek, playful yet loving. Then he gave him another kiss, distracting him just enough to take the shower head back. He began to wash him again after picking up the loofah from the ground. Wilson frowned, a little sob coming out of him.
“Why are you crying, baby?” Brando asked.
“Because you’re so sweet to me.” His voice cracked. “And I also feel like shit.”
Brando wiped his tears away and kissed him right where the tears were. “I’m going to give you all the love you deserve and more. Nothing is more important than my lil’ Will.”
“I hate when you call me that.” He cried a little harder. “Why do you still call me that?”
“Because it’s cute, because you’re cute. I don’t like seeing you cry, love. Please, don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it.” Wilson sniffled, but Brando’s words were soothing to the ear. “Sometimes when you’re around me, I wonder what I ever did to deserve someone as sweet as you.”
“It’s not something you did. It’s just something you simply deserved, and I’m the one willing to give it to you because I love you.”
Brando continued to wash his body, scrubbing him clean. He lathered his hair with shampoo and conditioner, then turned the shower off. Brando wrapped Wilson around with a towel before wrapping himself. Wilson let out another sneeze and sniffled as Wilson helped him get dressed.
They stayed in bed and snuggled for some time, before Brando asked, “Does your throat hurt? I can make some tea for you before I make you some soup.”
“It’s starting to hurt a little bit, but I think it’s just because I’m coughing so much.” As Wilson replied, another cough came out of him.
“Right, okay, so tea and soup?”
“Fine. Yeah, sure.”
Brando nodded. Before leaving the room, he made sure to make it clear he had to remain there. He was extremely keen on that part. If Wilson wasn’t going to let himself rest, Brando would force him to.
Brando returned a little while after with the soup, tea, and a tray in his hand. It was the same soup he made whenever Wilson was sick. It was also tradition that he fed him the soup. Otherwise, Wilson would refuse because it didn’t have the best taste. But with whatever magical cooking skills Brando had, it always made him feel a lot better.
He put the spoon up to Wilson’s mouth after blowing on it. “Here comes the choo-choo train.”
“I’m not a child.” Wilson giggled.
“You’re not, but it still makes you laugh.”
“Will you continue to baby me when we have our own children one day?” he asked, struggling with the taste of the soup.
“Of course I will,” Brando said casually, then his eyes grew wide open and he backed up. “Wait, you want children?!”
“I do.” He nodded. “I want to see you be all disciplinary and everything. Do you not want children?”
“No, no. I mean—yes. Wait, fuck, no. Wait… umm… I don’t know. I’m sorry! Hold on!” He shook his head to try to get his response together, a little baffled by the topic. “Your question was just worded weirdly. I do want children, especially with you. We just haven’t spoken about it.”
“We should. I want to raise a family with you.” He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t mind going through the adoption process so we could. I know you’d be a great dad.”
That made Brando blush. He couldn’t meet Wilson’s eyes. “You’d be a great dad, too.”
“So, can we talk about it more? See if we’re ready?”
“We’ll talk about it more once you’re feeling better, love,” he spoke with the sweetest voice humanly possible. It sounded like a lullaby.
“Okay.”
Wilson blushed, too. He couldn’t keep his smile intact. It started to fade once Brando gave him another spoonful of the soup, though.
“Do you seriously have to put so much garlic into this soup?” he asked.
“Garlic is good for when you’re sick.”
“Yeah? Why is it good?”
“You know, it’s just like… good for you. It has good things in it or whatever.”
“Wow.” Wilson dragged out the word. “That is such a good explanation.”
“I’m not a doctor. I don’t know the exact reason, but just because you keep asking, I’ll look it up and have the answer prepared next time.”
“Good thing you’re not a doctor. Imagine a patient asks you why you think they need medicine and you respond with, ‘Oh, you know, medicine is just good for you. It has good things in it or whatever, but I’ll look it up for your next appointment.’”
Brando chuckled. “Maybe that’s why I’m not a doctor or in the medical field. Have you ever thought about that?”
“Well, you should never try to get into that field. You’d be horrible.”
“At least I’d be a sexy doctor, though. That would give me some good reviews.”
“Your looks can’t fix all of your problems you fucking asshole.”
“No, but it can fix that fucking attitude of yours, you little brat.” He stared straight at him with a squint. The tray in his hand was now on the nightstand. He picked up Wilson’s chin and tilted his face to look at him.
Wilson returned his gaze. His face was all heated and desperate before Brando kissed him. It was different from the one in the shower. This one was just as nice, but it was much more steamy and demanding. One hand was in his hair while the other was on his cheek. When he backed away, Wilson looked dazed and exhausted.
“I swear you put drugs in your kisses,” Wilson mumbled.
“The only drug I’ll ever give you is my love.”
“You’re so stupid, but I love you,” he whispered as he got comfortable in Brando’s hold.
“I love you most.”
Wilson closed his eyes.
“Do you want me to speak to you while you fall asleep?” Brando asked.
“Mhm.”
Brando told him some stories as Wilson fell asleep. He always spoke with a calm tone, with a tone that Wilson could listen to forever. As each day passed, he found that he learned new things about him. It had been years, and there were so many things the two could discover about one another.
Brando stared at his sleeping husband with his teeth flashing through. He thought about their conversation from earlier, he thought about what it would be like to build a family together. When he was younger, he didn’t think children would be something he could ever have. But now, well now, he wanted it more than ever.
His soulmate was right in front of him, sleeping as if it were a normal day, probably dreaming about random things. While his mind spiraled into the depths of his imagination. He hoped one day the imaginary children in his head would come to life.
He couldn’t wait for that to happen. And he also couldn’t wait to see what the future held for them. Not just with children, but with everything. All the endless conversations, endless memories, endless kisses, endless hugs, endless everything. He wouldn’t rather have it be with anyone else.