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Wilbur’s not entirely sure where he is. All he knows is that he’s in an all white room, laid on a cot. He feels funny. His head is all woozy, and his limbs are stuck in place, a beeping heard to his right. His eyes feel heavy and his thoughts muddled. There’s a woman near his bed he comes to realize.
“Who are you?” He slurs, having never seen this woman in his life.
The woman jumps, surprised, “Oh, good you’re awake! I’m your nurse,” She explains. “You've been out for a while. I’ll let your family know you're awake.”
The nurse, apparently, walks out, shutting the door behind her.
He sits there in silence, fidgeting with his fingers, trying to figure out why he’s here.
The door opens and in steps a short, middle aged man, with dirty blond hair, then a man who looks oddly similar to him with pink hair. He doesn't know who they are but they feel familiar, but given by the nurse they’re his family.
Everything is just the tiniest bit blurry, but clears when lastly the most gorgeous guy he’s ever laid eyes on walks in behind them. His heart stutters, staring wide eyed as the boy steps closer to him.
The boy also has blond hair, but it’s much more bright and it looks utterly soft, and his eyes. Oh, his eyes are mesmerizing, so blue, almost resembling the ocean, except that comparison downplays their beauty.
He’s unable to focus on the other people he saw walk in, attention solely focused on this guy, who has now sat himself next to his bedside on a chair.
Everything was fuzzy, and he just stares blankly at him, a soft smile growing on his face as he continues admiring him. He feels familiar like the other two, but there’s something deeper happening, he can feel it, but he doesn’t know what it exactly is.
The blond gives him a little amused but confused smile. “What are you looking at?”
Wilbur giggles for no other reason than he can’t help it. He just wants to smile and laugh around this boy. “You. You’re very pretty.”
The boy laughs, and he gasps, entranced by the sound. He wants to hear more. His eyes wander all over the blond’s face, taking him in, and he wonders what it would be like to kiss those lips, they look so soft. Wilbur would be gentle with him, make sure he doesn’t ruin them, but at the same time ravish him completely.
“Thank you, Wil. You’re also very pretty.” He blushes, thrown off by the compliment being returned.
“You just called me pretty,” He giggles again, “Do you think I’m pretty?” He hopes he meant it, despite the chance that he doesn’t look his best. Fuck, he probably looks horrible right now.
Wilbur’s train of thought is cut off. He watches, allured when the pretty boy smiles wide, “I think you’re very pretty.”
“But you’re more pretty. Like out of this world pretty, really really pretty.” He gushes, lazily extending a hand out grabbing this mysterious, pretty blond guy’s hand, and placing it on his own cheek, his own hand over it, rubbing against it, and slightly turning to kiss the palm.
“Do you wanna, like, go out sometime? I feel like we have such a connection,” Wilbur continues, completely unaware of how ridiculous he sounded.
The boy laughs, but then he’s turning away from him to the other people in the room, taking the warmth of his hand with him. “I think he’s out of it.”
Why is he turning away from him? Does he not like him? Wilbur gulps. Oh my god, the pretty boy has a girlfriend because of course he does! One look at him and he has you wrapped around his finger.
Wilbur sure as hell is, and it hasn’t even been fifteen minutes!
But then those blue eyes are back on him and he exhales, relieved. “Do you know who they are?”
Wilbur blinks, continuing to stare at the blond, tilting his head to the side, “Has anyone ever told you, you have really nice eyes,” He slurs out, thoroughly captivated, “And the most beautiful smile.”
“Yeah, they have.” The warmth is back, slender fingers running through his hair, he leans into the touch.
“You’re also very pretty.” He adds, compliments spilling with ease because it’s so easy when the boy is such a pretty sight that you can stare at for hours on end and never get bored.
Wilbur wouldn’t mind that in fact he would love that. He’s sure that blond hair would look like a halo when hit with the sun’s warm rays.
“You told me that already, Wilbur.” He jolts, he knows his name. The angel sent from gods above knows his name.
He squeals, elated with the information. “Someone should tell you that every second of the day.”
“Someone does tell me that every day.”
Wilbur pouts, “Whoever it is, beat me to it. Who is it, your girlfriend?” He blurts, tone tinting with sadness, hearing snickering from somewhere in the room.
God, he’s so pretty. Whoever has this boy is extremely lucky. “No, my boyfriend does.”
“Boyfriend?” That’s both a punch to the gut and comforting. He could have a chance, but his boy is taken. “What’s his name?”
“Wilbur.” It’s said with such adoration and fondness, making him jealous that it’s not directed towards him.
Wait. “Your boyfriend stole my name! Tell him I want it back.” Not only does the boy—Wilbur is sure he’s in love with—have a boyfriend, but he also has the same name as he does. Wilbur’s certain that he’s the better Wilbur!
“He didn’t steal it from you, you’re my boyfriend, Wil, remember? It’s me, Tommy.”
“Tommy,” He mumbles, “That’s a nice name,” His words jumbling together.
“Thank you,” Tommy chuckles, his voice laced with mirth.
Then he registers the rest of Tommy’s sentence. “Boyfriend? You're my boyfriend?” He exclaims, his heart racing at the thought of being in a relationship with Tommy, his tone filled with excitement.
Tommy couldn't help but burst out laughing at Wilbur's happy confusion. “Yes, I am, and you are my adorable, drugged-up boyfriend.”
He freezes. A wave of euphoria fills him. He can't believe it. Tommy is his! He gets to go home with him after this! His face breaks into a wide grin. “I always knew I had good taste,” He says proudly, winking at Tommy then switching to something more sad, but not too sad because Tommy is his and he is Tommy’s. Why would there ever be a reason to be sad when he has Tommy. “I was worried I wouldn’t ever get to have you.”
Tommy had always found Wilbur's flirty nature endearing, and seeing him like this, under the influence of anesthesia, made it even more adorable.
Now he can ask for a kiss any time he wants! He doesn't have to imagine Tommy with anyone else because he is with him. He decides he wants a kiss right now.
Tommy however turns serious for a moment, holding the side of Wilbur’s face, “Wil, you’ve always had me and always will. I love you.”
He gasps in delight, looking over to the people in the room, “The pretty boy loves me!”
Laughs are heard all around, but he focuses back on Tommy. A stupidly, dopey smile appears on his face, “I love you. Can I have a kiss?”
“You're too cute, Wilbur,” Tommy said, leaning forward to press a kiss on Wilbur's forehead.
He shakes his head ferociously, disagreeing heavily, “Not me. Only you, baby,” He whispers, letting the pet name slip out, closing his eyes and basking in the feeling of Tommy's lips on his skin.
But then they move to his lips. His lips! He’s freaking out. Holy fuck he’s being kissed by his gorgeous Tommy.
His eyes open, to be certain that this is happening, when he realizes it is, he closes his eyes.
It’s easy to fall back into the movement, he can sense they’ve done this millions of times, but right now it feels like the very first time he’s had the chance to kiss Tommy. It’s driving him crazy, the kiss is consuming every piece of him.
And Tommy’s lips are as soft as they look, probably even more. He’s sure he’s died and went to heaven.
He leans up even more, one of his hands sliding to the side of Tommy’s neck, while he leans some of his weight on his left hand, briefly hearing the door to his room open and close.
He’s eager, moving his lips more messily. His desperation to taste more of his boyfriend increasing every second their lips stay connected.
When Tommy pulls back, he chases after, not yet having enough of those sweet, plump lips. He doesn’t think he’ll ever have enough in all fairness.
The breath is sucked out of him. He’s in shock, “Can I have another kiss?”
Tommy laughs at that, but gives him a quick peck on the lips. “Are you feeling alright? You were out for a bit longer than expected.” His boyfriend asks.
“Did you miss me?” He questions, a mischievous glint in his eyes, but delicately lacing their fingers together.
Tommy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What? Of course I did, Wilbur.” His sunshine trying to suppress a laugh.
“I missed you a lot, too. I feel amazing,” He replies dreamily, fingers on his lips the faintness of Tommy’s stuck there like a ghost. His eyes remaining on Tommy the whole time. “Especially now that I know you’re mine.”
“I'm glad I can make you feel so good,” Tommy responds, placing another gentle kiss on Wilbur's forehead and moving a few stray curls away.
Wilbur smiles contentedly, his hand reaching out to caress Tommy's cheek, tucking a few of Tommy’s own curls behind his ear. “I love you.”
Tommy hums, tilting his head into. A surge of adoration and love comes over him, coaxing Tommy into another kiss that’s slow and deep.
God, he is so enamored by this man, wholeheartedly smitten. Tommy could be the meanest person and he wouldn’t care.
He belongs to Tommy and his love for him takes up his entire heart.
Once they break away from each other, he asks, “Are we married?” Because there's now way that they aren’t.
Tommy coughs, choking, Wilbur worries that something is wrong, shaking his head, “No we are not.”
Wilbur frowns, face scrunching up, “That’s bullshit. Why aren’t we married?” Why on earth has he not asked? When he gets out of here he’s going out and buying a ring to propose. He nods to himself, it’s a good plan.
Tommy sighs, smiling ever so slightly, “I don’t know why we aren’t. I guess we’ve never thought about it.”
His frown deepens. That’s not right. “We’re going to get married,” He states matter of factly. He pauses, he should probably ask first. “Will you marry me, sunshine?”
He brings their joined hands together, kissing Tommy’s knuckles, patiently waiting for an answer.
“'I would love to, Wil,” Tommy says, sincerely, but also plays along with Wilbur's delusion. He would forget saying it after the anesthesia wears off most likely (he won’t.) “Now go to sleep, I’m sure you're tired.”
“But then I won’t be able to admire you,” He sulks, like a child. “I want to be able to look at you every second.”
Tommy looks away, steadying his breathing. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Wilbur squeezes his hand, “Promise?”
Tommy squeezes his hand back, “I promise.”
“I'm really lucky to have you,” His voice wavering from the overwhelming love as tears prick at his eyes.
Tommy smiles and wraps his arms around Wilbur, holding him close. “Aww, don’t cry, Wil. I'm lucky to have you, too.”
He sniffles, clinging onto Tommy and nestling his face into the blond’s neck, peppering kisses.
He gives in, trusting Tommy will be here and the first thing he sees when he wakes up again. His eyes flutter close as the anesthesia takes over his body again.
And in that moment, all he could think about was how grateful he was to have Tommy by his side. He may not have been fully aware of what was happening, but he knew that he was in good hands.
The next day Wilbur is allowed to leave, but not before signing paperwork. They wheel him out of the hospital, and settle him in the backseat of the car.
His dad, Phil driving, his brother in the passenger seat, and Tommy next to him.
He’s slumped against Tommy, hiding in the crook of his neck again. Tommy doesn’t seem to mind, simply carding his fingers through his hair, staring down at him.
He looks up, “You’re so pretty,” He mumbles, dazed, but no anesthesia is in his body.
Tommy chuckles, the vibrations of it jostling him a little. “Nobody’s told me that before.” Laughter still evident in his voice as he jokes.
He puckers his lips, a silent question. Tommy tilts his head further down, meeting him halfway, “I’ll have to remind you every day for the rest of our lives.” He promises, in between kisses, remembering what he told Tommy when he was drugged.
“As if you don’t do that already.”