Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Song: One of your girls by Troye Sivan

Will’s POV:

It was just a stupid game that stupid drunk teenagers thought was funny. Nothing was gonna happen, technically we didn’t need to do anything. So why was there a little voice in my head telling me to take advantage of the situation? The group practically shoved us out of the kitchen and into the hallway. We weren’t even in the closet and I was panicking. Like I mean, my palms are sweaty and my legs are shaking. He grabs my hand as if to reassure me, it works I guess. We both simultaneously turn to look at each other and we give a little nod. Without wasting another precious moment we head off toward the closest.

Bran grabs his phone and hastily sets a timer. Seven minutes, that's all. I just had to survive seven minutes, alone, in a tiny space, with him.

My stance is awkward, it looks straight out of a coming of age movie with a loser main character. I’m the loser main character, by the way. Bran looked at my lips, not even for a split second, a full on inspection. My face grows red seeing the look on his face. Never in the eleven years I’ve known Bran has he ever looked at me like that. Before I can even get a word out to try and tell him we don’t need to do anything, his lips crash down onto mine consuming all my innocence from that one kiss.

When he eventually pulls away, unfortunately, he doesn’t even apologize for just randomly kissing me, I mean not that I’m mad but still. I chose to not say anything either, it would just make things awkward and awkward definitely wasn’t what I needed right now. If we were actually doing this I wasn’t gonna let it go to waste.

I back up to a wall, pulling Bran with me so our bodies are basically one. My hands find their way to his hair and I kiss him. It’s not perfect or slow, it’s messy and aggressive which is what I need right now. His tongue swirls around my bottom lip as an attempt to penetrate my mouth. With no hesitation I cave and open my mouth slightly, a low moan coming out as soon as his tongue enters my mouth. Shit, I can literally feel myself getting hard right now. Not only that, I can feel Bran against me. The things that would be happening right now if we— my thoughts are interrupted by Bran’s hands, undoing my belt. As if he read my fucking mind.

5 minutes left.

He pulls away, panting but not wasting a beat as he slides my jeans down, then my boxers. Does he ever take a breather oh my god. My skin suddenly gets burning hot as he places kisses on my neck, not hard enough to leave marks, thankfully. Unfortunately I’m not even able to move my head back and give him more access because I’m trapped against a wall. That, however, doesn’t stop me from making noises.

I swear I almost had a heart attack when I felt Bran’s hand stroke my cock. Never would I have imagined we would ever do this. His thumb rubs over my tip, and my hands are digging into his hair, a desperate attempt to hold my balance. Then, he full on grabs my length and moves his hand up and down for a little. My mouth is agape, letting out pathetic breathless moans. When he’s at my tip again, he twists it slightly making me let out a sharp gasp. My knees were definitely gonna give in soon. Bran repeats this pattern three more times before eventually I feel like I’m about to come. My eyes fall shut and I let out a loud cry of pleasure which obviously tells him my situation. A whine escapes my lips as he moves his hand away. Bran is fucking smirking at me when I’m on the brink of an orgasm?

2 and a half minutes left.

“Bran… please” my words are slurred and pleading. He takes a good look at my current state and bites his lip before getting on his knees. No fucking way. My childhood best friend was about to suck me off?

First, he takes my tip in his mouth and grabs onto my thighs, hard enough to leave bruises. When he takes me fully, he stares at me. I sort of find the eye contact hot, like he isn't just staring but looking, does that make sense? Bran starts to lick my cock, doing absolute fucking wonders. I move my hands to his hair, pulling at it and forcing my dick deeper in his mouth. He doesn’t try and stop me, instead he starts to suck. I can feel him moaning around my mouth and it just pushes me closer to the edge. God, he looks so fucking good on his knees for me like this. Bran’s hair is all messed up from my hands and his face is flushed. He then swirls his tongue around my head and bobs his head up and down. “Fuck..” is all I can manage to get out. I can only hope they can’t hear us in the kitchen.

30 seconds.

I can’t hold back anymore. I come in his mouth. With no hesitation he swallowed it and then let my cock go. The alarm goes off. Shit. He stands up, smiling and breathless. I grab my jeans, putting them back on. “That was really good.” I whisper shyly. I’m almost embarrassed to look at him right now. He cups my face and kisses my nose then responds, “Hopefully not a one time thing.” This man was gonna be the death of me.

As soon as we start to walk back, I lean on him barely able to hold my body up. I was so tired. Bran held my waist, keeping me glued to him. Not like I was going somewhere anyway.

The group eyes us suggestively when we sit down. “Did you guys actually fuck?” “I think Will got his brains fucked out.” “Damn how good was Bran?” Questions all blur together but I don’t bother to answer. They don’t get to know about my sex life. I bury my head in the crook of Bran’s neck, mumbling something about wanting to leave.

Word count: 1061

Chapter Text

Song: False God by Taylor Swift

Bran’s POV:

I wasn’t expecting to see him. And I definitely wasn’t expecting him to be in my trailer. He held the mug full of water in his hand, just staring at it. “You’re not gonna drink it?” I inquired, pointing at the mug. Will looks up at me and mumbles, “not in the mood.” Oh, so it was like that? I don’t know what came over me, but I kissed him. It was messy, one of my hands in his hair and the other one all over his body. He sets the mug aside and I can feel his hands on me. Oh my god, I’ve missed this so much. Our tongues are battling each other, fighting for entry in the other's mouth. His lips tasted like honey. Will slowly moved into my lap, now halfway on top of me. I pull away, laughing. The sight of him flustered and hair messed up because of me was truly a treasure.

It was about ten seconds before we were all over each other again. He wasted no time coming back to my lap. Kissing me with his soft, honey tasting swollen lips. I reached for his shirt to pull it off and he pushed my hand away. Well that wasn’t what I was expecting. “What’s wrong pretty boy?” I ask while I cradle his face. He truly was like a piece of art. “Nothing I’ve just.. never done anything before.” Will explains, half whispering it. I nodded softly. I understood the dream of wanting your first time to be perfect and being scared of anything but that. “Can I?” I slightly tug at his shirt and look at him through my lashes. Will just nodded, obviously nervous. Slowly, his shirt is off, then my shirt, then our pants.

Now, we’re simply left in our boxers.

“Do you trust me?” I ask and brush my thumb over his cheek. An attempt to memorize his jawline, his eyes, his lips, I wanted to memorize everything. Just in case this was temporary. “Yeah, always,” Will answered. Simple as that. “Can you lay on your stomach for me, baby?” My words are soft and quiet, contrary to how we last spoke last year. I press a soft kiss to his nose. He bit his lip, which is a habit he did when he was very focused or thinking hard. Will then did as I asked, turned over and laid down on his stomach. My fingers went into the hook of his boxers and slowly pulled them down. I let out a breathless gasp, in disbelief of the sight before me. One of my hands rubs patterns on his arm to keep him distracted while I find the lube. I wasn’t having sex often, so it was unopened. I mean it was hard to kiss someone and not think of Will. My Will. I carefully applied it to my fingers, careful to not put too much.

Slowly and carefully I pushed my middle finger inside his anus, my free hand still rubbing his arm. His whole body tensed up. It clearly wasn’t a feeling he was used to. I arch my finger a little, pointing upward toward his bellybutton. “Does that feel good?” “Mhm” the sound is incredibly muffled but nonetheless, I hear it. I nod quickly to myself. My body pivots slightly to move myself more on top of him so I’m able to kiss his back. At this very moment was a rare time where I could tell you that I was truly happy. Yes, I was in the process of fingering my ex whom I didn’t expect to see at all, but just him trusting me to do this made me content.

When I could tell he got used to one finger, I carefully slid another one in. The motion caused him to let out a throaty breath. Taking that as a good sign I slowly pumped my fingers in and out. “Doing so well, baby” I pressed my mouth to his ear and reassured him. Then, I sit back up and continue the maneuver. The action progressively got harsher the more comfortable Will got. A feeling in the back of my mind told me he liked it so I just had to pray I was right.

As I felt him tense around my fingers I figured he was about to come. I removed my fingers. I had no intention of tiring Will out before I got to actually fuck him. I quickly sanitised my hands using the small bottle on the counter then sat back down. A small breath escapes me. Truly, I am dumbfounded by this situation. Will and I haven’t spoken for a year and I’m about to fuck him. What a strange world we live in. I awkwardly take my boxers off and apply the lube to my tip. Will must feel so embarrassed from just saying there like that, all naked and vulnerable. And a horny mess.

My hands slowly opened his legs, wide enough for me to be comfortable. Wilson’s face and neck were completely flushed and his hands were already digging into the bed even though I had barely done anything yet. “Breathe.” I remind him. My cock slowly slid into him which caused Will to let out a moan and simultaneously, wince at the pain. I grip his shoulders, slightly digging my nails into them. “So good Will..” the words come out more breathy and soft than I planned. Then I continued, “just tell me what you want.” He seems to have heard me, but is too overstimulated to actually respond. Slowly, I start to thrust. Making sure to not hurt Will too much. The feeling of me stretching him out forces a sharp gasp from me. I moved my hands from his shoulders to instead hold his hands as I kept a steady rhythm.

Sweat formed on the back of my neck and by the looks of it Will was sweating too. I had such a primal desire in me to simply ruin him. Will’s gasps and moans only gave me more motivation as I pulsed deeper with every thrust. I, myself, was getting close to coming. I take my right hand and unlink it with his, then slowly start jerking him off. “Bran— I-“ Will stuttered. His back arched slightly and his mouth fell agape. I examined the way his fingers curled into the bed, the sounds he made, the state of his body and the way he was shaking. Shit. He was on the brink of finishing. This was most likely his first orgasm given that he was a virgin who had never touched himself. My hand let go of his cock and held back onto his hand. “You look like you’re about to come,” I whisper, my lips brushing his ear. Will nodded and let out an exasperated sigh.

Watching him come undone for me was a new level of pride I felt within me. Will’s body shook heavily with pleasure. He let out one final pattern of loud moans and gaps before collapsing back on the bed. It was only seconds after when I followed suit. I rode my orgasm out slowly, trying to not tire Will out anymore. I hesitantly pulled out which made a small noise of pain erupt from Will, and moved to lay next to him.

My fingers tangled up in his curls as I pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He had no idea how long I had been waiting for that to happen. “You good?” I ask, cradling his face. “Yeah, yeah just… tired. That was— I’m happy my first time was with you.” His words were so sincere it almost made me cry. A smile crept its way onto my face and this was another rare moment where I could tell you I was truly happy. A lot of those moments seemed to be with Will.

“Come here” I open my arms for him to lay on my chest. He curled up instantly, digging his head in my sweaty chest. “Get some rest pretty boy.”

Word count: 1352

Chapter Text

Song: Sad Beautiful Tragic by Taylor Swift

3rd person:

Wilson, he drew nigh his comrade's form, seeming dead to mortal eye. Yet did the youth, though pale and wan, retain a charm thereby. Wil sat him down by Bran, and thus did speak, beseeching heaven that Bran might hear his cries so bleak. "Alas, poor Bran, how witless was I to let thee fade! Ere we could sway the village to our love, thou wert gone. My husband to be, I weep and yearn! No solace dawns in this bleak plight, save one. I crave to join thee in death's embrace. In realms beyond, I pray we meet, my Bran so dear. For not e'en death can sunder us, nor dim the flame I bear for thee."

The woeful lad, he took his love's fair hand, the poison in the other did command. The village ne'er would grasp why he should die with Bran, his love, beneath this weeping sky. They knew them not, their love a thing forlorn, and threatened death had they their passion borne. 'Twas fate, it seemed, that led them to this place, to death's embrace, together, face to face. Strive as they might to flee its grasp, yet death did loom, a fate none could unclasp. "By quaffing this fell draught, I sign my heart to thee for aye. My love, anon we shall meet again." Thus spake the dark-haired lad as he uncorked the vial that held his doom. Then Wilson, he did quaff the venom'd draught, thus sealing his own doom. As by his love he lay, these final words he breathed, "I yearn to see thy face again, to press my lips to thine, and feel thy sweet embrace. Anon, in afterlife, we shall thus meet. I love thee." Each word did wane in strength, as poison took its hold. And ere long, life did hence depart from him.

The deed is wrought. The hue shall soon forsake his visage. Anon, he'll be but an olden tale, of lad a who loved too deep. A boy who, for his Bran, did seek his grave.

The boy, alas, did not perceive that Bran was yet alive. An elixir he'd received, to feign his demise and flee the Lady Heather's suit. Forty-two hours in the tomb he must lie, then seek out Wilson, but fate hath altered that course, alack!

When what seemed an age had passed, the golden boy did breathe again. He sat upright, bewildered and undone. Bran's eyes, in haste, did search about, and found the corpse beside him laid. His love, now dead. As if his heart itself had ceased to beat. Not thus the plan was meant to run— Wilson should have known Brando's stratagem. 'Tis clear, he did not. The youth's eyes blurred as tears did flood his sight. He could not stay the tempest of his grief, and sobs upon his lover's form were spent. A pain unknown to him, this was. Though spurned by kin for love of Wil, 'twas naught to this agony he felt, to see his love, now but a lifeless clay.

"Ah, Wil, wherefore art thou so noble? Why didst thou tarry for me, only to forsake me now? To wake and find thee thus, 'tis a sight mine eyes ne'er did behold in such horror." Bran, grasping the boy's lifeless hand, did speak these words. Thy eyes did spy a glint beside young Wilson, his dagger keen. A thought, most impious, in Bran's mind did bloom. "'Tis but just that I should die for thee, as thou for me didst give thy life, my Wil, my precious heart! Soon shall I join thee; fret thou not." He seized the blade, his fingers traced its edge. 'Twas his resolve; with it, he'd seek his final rest. Against his heart he pressed it, eyes now shut. Naught did the lad more willingly embrace than death for Wil, his love, his dearest heart, the sole who knew his soul's most secret part.

He did thrust the dagger deep within his chest, a gasp of anguish did his lips attest. The steel felt keen as Wilson's form, now still. Tho' death did claim him, freedom crowned his will. He plucked the blade, and let the crimson tide, upon him flow, where once his shirt did bide. A sinner's stain, upon the white it lay. Upon his love he fell, as life ebbed away, their mingled blood, a bond that shall not fray.

Word count: 725

Chapter Text

Song: Escapism by Raye

Wil wasn’t a huge drinker. In fact, he usually only had alcohol once a year. However, he had just been dumped and this was an exception for him. The vodka cranberry in his hand seemed never ending, and he hadn’t even refilled it yet. His finger tapped the bar counter rapidly as he became increasingly annoyed. He came here to get drunk and possibly kiss his problems away, but by the looks of things, everyone here was straight. And Wilson had no hope of trying to ‘convert’ a straight guy.

Just as he was gonna give up, the bar door opened and in walked Brando. They had briefly seen each other before, semi-flirted but nothing more. Now this was something Wil could work with.

He softly bit his lip, took a sip of his drink and very shamelessly let his eyes roam all over Bran’s body. Obviously if Bran never looked at him, this would just turn out embarrassing for Wilson but he held out hope.

The tall boy sat next to Wil at the bar, ordering a simple beer. Interesting, not really though. Wil knew nothing about alcohol. Unfortunately, Wil being Wil, he was too scared to make the first move. Even with the liquid courage. So, he resorted to checking him out.

“Wilson, right? We’ve met before.” Brando turned on the bar stool to face him as he spoke. Thank god, it had only taken Wil ten minutes of staring for him to notice. “Yeah, yeah but just Wil is fine.” He smiled and straightened his posture while replying. “Well Wilson, you’ve been staring at me for a while.” The dirty blonde pointed out and raised his eyebrows, curious. “Oh uh I guess I have, I don’t really know what to say I hope it wasn’t like weird or anything—“ Brando stopped him mid ramble, “not weird don’t worry. More like, endearing. We’re not exactly the closest but I can tell from the past times we’ve talked you’re not exactly the confrontational type huh?” “Something like that..” Wil mumbled. His face was entirely red by now. He couldn’t fuck this up. “I sort of think you're cute I suck at conversations, sorry. And the fact that I’m drunk doesn’t help.” He talked, his fingers tapping his glass as he tried to not mess up his words. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself." Bran leaned a little closer, brushing Wil’s curls out of his face which caused Wil to blush even harder. He swallowed, hard. Unfortunately his mind was blank and his throat was dry, making him incapable of replying to Bran. Which was a little sad because Wil did enjoy talking to him. “So, why are you at the bar? I come here every week and never see you. Trust me, if I did I would remember it.” He inquired. As he waited for Wil’s response, his hand ever so innocently moved onto Wilson’s thigh. “I uhm, well like two days ago I kinda got dumped.” He laughed, attempting to hide the embarrassment. “You’re here to what? Try and drink your problems away or maybe..” Bran smirked and took another sip of his beer. “Well I'm definitely trying the drinking option, not going so well though. I learned that being drunk just makes me emotional.” He shook his head, curls falling in front of his face. “Well I think you need to be cut off because uh from the looks of it you’re a sip away from a mental breakdown.” The dirty blonde boy moved Wilson’s drink away from him and called the bartender over. “Oh you don’t need to pay for me it’s fine—“ “Wil it’s not an issue and I won’t take no for an answer.” Bran quickly paid for his and Wil’s drink before he could complain more.

The conversation seemed endless. They covered all the basics, childhood, schools, hobbies, etc…. But throughout the night Wil couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that Bran always had a hand on him. Whether it was on his thigh or holding his hand, he was always touching Wil. Not to mention constantly looking at his lips. They had flirted before on multiple occasions but this wasn’t words— it was physical. Wilson wasn’t sure how long they had spent talking but in his mind, it would be safe to try and take things further. That was the original plan after all.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom.” Wil said, getting up. Bran smiled and nodded while watching Wil walk away.

When he opened the bathroom door he stood in front of a mirror and took a deep breath. He had definitely sobered up a bit which, honestly, made him more nervous. All he wanted was a rebound but god why was he so attracted to Bran? This wasn’t like him— in the few relationships he had always been the one who was dumped and he always took so long to move on, like a routine. He was freshly dumped and usually he wouldn’t even be able to look at another guy let alone flirt with one. But Bran was different. He already knew him, he’d already flirted with him, he’d almost kissed him multiple times. This wasn’t a stranger. Maybe that’s why it was so easy? Whenever he looked at him all he wanted to do was grab him and kiss him. Again— unlike Wil.

He turned the sink on, the water cold on his hands. After his hands were very soaked, he ran them through his hair and splashed his face. A very failed attempt to calm down. “Get it together Wil, god.” He mumbled to himself and took a deep breath in.

Bran walked in, searching for Wil. He looked a little confused which made Wilson confused, he had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. Brando walked up to him, holding his hand and his gaze softening. “You kinda just disappeared on me. Are you good?” He asked, eyes searching his face for an answer. “Yeah I’m fine, sorry. Just uhm— never mind. I’m good.” He reassured the boy in front of him. But Wil himself wasn’t fine. He was internally panicking at how close Bran was and how they were holding hands and god how much he wanted to kiss him. “Wil…” Bran breathed out and leaned in a little closer. His free hand cupped Wil’s face. “Mhm” Wil mumbled. He seemed to have swallowed all his words. Bran moved closer until their noses were touching. This just made it impossible for Wilson to breathe. “You’re close..” he said, his eyes darting all over the taller boy's face. That caused him to laugh a little, Wil could smell the scent of beer in his breath.

Without any warning, Bran kissed him. It wasn’t a shy kiss, it was one that held so many unspoken words, one that would replay in Wil’s mind constantly. His hands tangled in Wilson’s curls and pulled him as close as humanly possible. Bran tasted like beer but at that moment it seemed to be Wil’s favorite thing. He kissed him back with equally as much passion.

Suddenly, the taller boy pulled away, making Wil frown. “Why’d you—“ without letting him finish his sentence, Brando pulled him into a stall and locked it. “I don’t want anyone to walk in and interrupt.” Bran rubbed his hand against Wilson’s cheek as he spoke. Even though his words seemed trustworthy, Wil couldn’t help but suspect that that wasn’t the only reason.

He pulled Wilson back in, shamelessly open mouth kissing him. He slid his tongue into the curly haired boy’s mouth and cornered him against the bathroom stall’s wall. Brando kissed him like it was something he craved, like the only oxygen his body could breathe in was from Wil’s mouth.

Bran moved his mouth to Wil’s neck. His kisses were hot and messy but Wilson couldn’t care less. He held Bran there, letting out small moans and gasps. Wilson let his eyes fall closed and for once in a while, let him enjoy himself. Brando let his lips linger just above Wil’s neck for a minute, catching his breath and trying to figure out where the smaller boy's pulse point was. He figured he could just kiss almost all of his neck until he found it. So that’s what he did. However luckily for him, Wilson was sensitive almost everywhere so specifically finding his pulse point wasn’t very important. He took Wil’s skin between his teeth, gently biting it then pressing a soft kiss to the red mark. The action caused Wilson’s mouth to fall open and he let out a small moan. Bran thought he had the green light to go further. He slowly moved his hand down Wil’s body until it was at his belt. While kissing him, his hands undid the flustered boy’s belt.

Wil pushed Bran off him, catching his breath. “What are you doing?” He asked, bending down and picking his belt up. “I’m sorry— I thought that it was okay-. Shit, Wil sorry.” The boy profusely apologized. “No, it’s fine I should’ve uhm clarified. I don’t really know if I feel like hooking up in a bar washroom.” He rubbed his hands on his jeans and cleared his throat. “It doesn’t have to be here— I mean if you do want to uhm sorry I’m gonna stop talking now.” Wil laughed at Bran’s nervousness. The invite was very tempting. “Like at your house..?” The smaller boy asked, looking at his hands. “If you want.” “Yeah. Yeah that’s fine.” He nodded and smiled a little. They interlinked their hands and walked out of the bar, getting into Bran’s car.

Word count: 1615

Chapter Text

Song: Home by Cavetown

The sun peered through the window of Wil’s room. He was sitting at the chair in front of his desk, Bran behind him. Brando had spent months staying up late watching videos and practicing how to cut hair. He really wanted to help Wil with his transition as much as he could. So here he was, holding scissors and preparing to cut Wilson’s hair like it was life or death.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Wil asked, biting his lip and turning his head to look at Bran. The boy in front of him looked determined and nodded. “I’ve been practicing don’t worry Wil I’m not gonna fuck it up. I think. Like 99% sure.” He said, confidence fading with each word. “Okay so uhm I need to wet your hair. A lot.” Brando explained and grabbed the spray bottle. He began spraying Wil’s hair, making sure to cover every inch. Wilson on the other hand kept flinching at the cold water that got onto his face. He looked over Wil’s hair, making sure he wet it properly.

Once he was pleased he grabbed the scissors off the desk. “Okay don’t move please I don’t wanna accidentally mess up.” Brando advised Wilson while grabbing a section of his hair. “What if you poke me with the scissors, what if you cut it unevenly what if—“ “Wil! Please.” “Okay okay sorry I’ll be quiet.” The curly haired boy put his hands up in defence for a second. Then rested them on his thighs and stayed silent.

Brando got to work, cutting each piece off carefully. He stuck his tongue out a little, a habit he had when he was focusing on something. Wilson saw in the mirror and suppressed his laughter, remembering to stay still. Bran had a hard time figuring out how short he was cutting it since Wil didn’t even know himself. So, in simple terms, he was completely winging it. At least he knew what he was doing. A little. Maybe?

“Okay uhm I’m like halfway done I think. Is it short enough or-?” Bran placed the scissors on the desk and took a picture of the back of Wil’s hair. Then he showed it to Wil, crossing his fingers. “Yeah, yeah it looks great. Wow I’m surprised you didn’t chop all my hair off.” He joked, handing the phone back to Bran. Brando scoffed and clutched his chest. “Excuse you! I’m very capable and talented.” Wil gave a small smile and shook his head, laughing. Brando bit his lip and looked over Wilson’s hair. He still had a bit left to cut and he just had to continue doing well. Easy enough.

Wil was smiling like an idiot in the mirror while Brando, his boyfriend, cut his hair. It was all very surreal to him. Bran and him had finally gotten together once Wil had come out to him. In fact, he was the first person Wilson told about being trans. Bran of course was a little confused at first because he had grown up knowing Wil as a girl. But over time he had become the most supportive person and a huge support system for Wilson. He had even helped him come out to his mom. Thankfully, his mom took it well. But then again she had always been accepting of him and already had a feeling he was trans. Wil and Bran had been planning this day for a while. Brando stayed up countless nights attempting to learn how to cut hair at least a little well. He is Brando though and it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t mess up a little.

Bran stood back, smiling at Wil’s newly short hair. He looked proud like he’d just won a war. “It’s done and not to be narcissistic but I think I did pretty damn good.” He turned Wil’s chair around and grabbed his hands, pulling him up. “Thank you for doing this. It’s perfect.” The curly haired boy smiled and hugged Brando. He was starting to feel a little more at home in his body. Of course there was a long way to go but this was step one.

Word count: 697

Chapter Text

Song: Oxytocin by Billie Eilish

Everyone in Wil and Bran’s life knew they were only interested in each other. That they couldn’t say no to the other. So when Wil proposed the idea of handcuffs, how was Bran supposed to turn it down?

Bran took them off the night table in the middle of a makeout which instantly caught Wil’s attention. “Put your arms out for me.” The blonde boy asked, voice quiet and mouth next to Wilson’s ear. He easily complied and stretched his arms to Brando’s chest. His breath hitched as the handcuffs were placed on his wrist. To be truthful he had fantasized about this moment. Maybe it was because of trauma or some deep psychological shit but Wil had always wondered what it would be like to be completely helpless with Bran. And now he would finally know.

Wilson half-sat, half laid on the bed. His head and upper back were against the headboard while the rest of his body was on the bed. Bran carefully took his wrists and handcuffed it to the headboard, successfully making Wil defenceless. Then he climbed on top of the smaller boy and wasted no time taking his shirt off. Brando bit his lip, he was gonna compliment Wil like he usually would but he remembered but Wilson asked him. He forgot he was dating a fucking masochist.

He took a sharp and deep breath in while his eyes devoured his boyfriend. It truly took everything in him to do what Wil wanted. He removed his pants, then the other boys. Wil’s boxers were already straining, he was definitely eager to say the least. Bran lay on top of him, holding himself up with his arms and grinder against the boy below him. “Do you like that slut?” The words rolled off his tongue, cold. “You’re already so fucking hard for me. Always so easy for me.” He continued, mouth pressing against Wil’s collarbone. The words mixed with the action of Bran pressing his dick into Wilson’s made the curly haired boy moan. Not a soft one like usual, loud into the night. Bran took Wil’s boxers off and wrapped his hand around his length. “I bet you can’t wait for me to make you come hm? Do you think about it all day like the fucking whore you are?” He asked while he tentatively jerked the other boy off. Wil’s mouth fell slack open and he couldn’t even grip onto anything because he was handcuffed to the headboard. Which he completely forgot he asked for. Wil was so eager and easy he wasn’t gonna last long. And Brando knew that. His motions sped up, his hand pulling and stroking like there was no tomorrow. His partner couldn’t help but whimper and moan, like a slut.

Bran moved his hand away, wearing a proud smirk that made Wilson want to slap it right off. “You said you wanna hurt right?” He asked, his thumb caressing Wil’s cheek. The curly haired boy nodded. He had dreamt of this. It was fucked and sick but it was Wilson. With this knowledge Brando didn’t hold back, he smacked Wil’s face. The sound was loud and echoed through the apartment. Tears welled up in Wil’s eyes but he wasn’t exactly sad. It felt oddly good. Better than he thought it would. Bran pressed kisses to the red mark on his cheek, even when he was supposed to be rude to him he couldn’t help but treat Wil like a porcelain doll. Wilson spoke up, “Bran.. I…” His voice was small and fragile. But it wasn’t broken or sad. Which made the other boy feel a sense of relief.

The dirty blonde boy put his hand on Wil’s leg and pushed it up until it hit Wilson’s shoulder and until Bran could actually have an entrance point. He lined himself up with Wilson’s anus and pushed himself in. It wasn’t exactly comfortable for Wil, no condom, no lube, no stretching beforehand. But then again, he wanted this.

Bran began thrusting in, slow at first, taking Wilson’s feelings into account. Wil let his head fall back and hit the headboard, crying out. It felt so bad but so good at the same time. But shit he was gonna be so sore tomorrow. Worth it. His thrusts sped up the more comfortable Wil got. He continued this pattern until he was fully inside Wilson. Their mouths only inches away, both panting. Wil had tears streaming down his face solely from how intense the pain was. And how helpless he was. He had never felt better in his life.

He pushed himself further until his cock hit Wilson’s prostate, making him let out a loud pleasurable moan. “Bran… I’m so close— oh god—!” He said. The smaller boy pressed his teeth together, an attempt to both calm down and control the never ending sounds he was making. “Wil.. come for me baby.” Brando said, holding Wil’s face. That was all he needed

His body shook with pleasure, his come going onto the sheets and partially Bran’s leg. Brando came soon after, filling Wilson up. He uncuffed Wilson, finally. The boy sank into the bed, exhausted from their… activities. His body was still shaking the tiniest bit. Bran lay next to him, pulling him close to his chest. He then whispered into his boyfriends ear, “you look so fucking good with my come spilling out of you.” Wil went crimson red and dug his head into Brando’s neck. This definitely wasn’t gonna be the last time this would happen.

Word count: 925

Chapter Text

Song: The Giver by Chappell Roan

Wilson and Brando were sitting on the couch, watching a shitty movie. Neither of them paid much attention to it though. Bran was busy contemplating the pro’s and con’s of leaving Wil ti go shower. Pro’s being he would be clean, and he obviously needed to shower. The only con is that well he’d have to leave Wil. But in the end, he stood up, sighing. “I gotta go shower baby, I'll be back.” He said. He pressed a small kiss to Wilson’s forehead, lightly laughing at his whining. And then walked over to the bedroom. Bran grabbed a random pair of shorts, boxers and a shirt and of course a towel. He took his shirt off first, tossing it on the ground somewhere. Then his pants, thrown on the floor next to his shirt. As he slipped his boxers down his legs, he felt someone staring at him. Of course.

Wil peeked his head through the small crack of the bathroom door, looking at his boyfriend undress. He really couldn’t help it, the poor boy was so touch deprived. But alas, Brando caught him. Like he always did. “Cmere” one simple word was all it took and Wilson was simply undone. He didn’t argue, didn’t try to make a stupid excuse, he just walked into the bathroom. Bran looked at Wil, ever intimidating and started to take Wilson’s pants off. The curly haired boy felt himself grow red and aroused, he felt like his knees would buckle right then and there. Instead of letting his boyfriend kill him (even though he wouldn’t complain if he did) Wilson took his own shirt and boxers off.

The room was filled with silence, the only sound being the running water as the pair stepped into the shower. The hot water poured over both the boys' skin, not aiding the fact that they were already extremely turned on. Maybe Brando shouldn’t have asked Wil to join him. But then again, he knew Wilson would’ve somehow persuaded him one way or another. And funnily enough, Brando was the one who made the first move. He pulled Wil into a desperate, messy kiss. Hands tangling in each other’s hair, lips fighting for dominance. Wil moved back against the cold shower wall, pulling Bran with him and making sure to not stop the kiss.

They could’ve stayed like this forever, the two of them kissing underneath the warm water. But they both wanted— needed more. Wil hooked one of his legs around Bran’s waist, craving friction. His hips bucked up mid-kiss. Bran smirked at the action, at how much of a wreck and how desperate Wil already was. He took the other boy's leg, putting back on the floor and he very slowly and innocently let his hand slide down Wilson’s body until it was at his cock.

He started just slowly stroking, but it was enough to make Wil moan. After Bran deemed it fit, he moved his hand to the tip of his cock, his thumb moving in a massage like demeanour. This motion lasted a few seconds before he moved his other fingers around Wil’s length, firmly squeezing. He gently skimmed his fingers up and down his cock, feeling the hardness.

When Brando noticed Wilson tensing up and his moans getting more ragged, he figured now would be a good time to stop. Wilson looked at him, confused. “Why’d you stop…?” He asked, dazed. “Can you turn around for me, baby?” Brando requested, rubbing his thumb against Wil’s cheek. Wilson complied, turning around so that his stomach and hardness was pressed against the shower tile.

Bran traced circles with his fingers near Wilson’s anus. A very teasing motion which caused the curly haired boy’s breath to hitch. Then, with precision and care, he stuck one finger in. Wil instantly folded, his shoulders relaxing just a little more but his fists clenched at his sides. He moved his finger more inside of Wilson inch by inch, enjoying dragging this out. Then, he put a second one in. Wil was a moaning mess, now his forehead was leaning against the shower wall and his hand pressed hard on the tile next to it. The hot water poured over the two boys bodies and steamed the whole bathroom up, the glass door and mirror foggy. Bran pushed his fingers upward, in the direction of Wilson’s bellybutton. Wil’s eyes fluttered and his mouth fell agape, letting out a cry of pleasure.

Slowly and carefully, Brando removed his figures, whispering sweet nothings to Wilson as he did. Being in the shower was helpful because one, Brando didn’t have to awkwardly ruin the moment to clean up, and two, there wasn’t any lube needed. But of course it wouldn’t be the most comfortable way they’ve had sex. Although, neither of them cared much. “Put a leg up against the wall.” Brando said, though it sounded more like a command. And so Wilson did, his mind completely hazy and his body completely horny.

“You tell me if I’m hurting you okay, angel?” Bran pressed his mouth to Wil’s ear and spoke, his tone considerate. Wilson mumbled a “yes” barely audible enough for Brando to hear. He lined himself up with Wil. Then slowly, carefully, pushed himself in.

The rhythm started slowly, tedious almost. Like Brando’s mission was to make Wilson beg. And god knows he would beg if he had to.

Bran leaned forward, pressing his face into the crook of Wilson’s neck. He could feel everything from Wil’s increasingly fast heart beat to the way his cock felt inside him. How perfectly they fit together. He thrust himself deeper, letting out a breathy moan. Wilson clenched around him, which motivated Bran further. He placed his hands on Wil’s hips and pushed himself in until he hit Wil’s prostate. He let his cock drag against it, wanting the loudest possible reaction from Wilson as possible. And loud he was. Shamelessly practically screaming Bran’s name but saying it in a way that felt like a prayer.

The dirty blonde boy pressed kisses to Wil’s neck, not hard enough to mark but soft enough to calm Wilson down while Bran was actively pulsing and thrusting inside him.

Wilson’s whole body shook, his hands desperately trying to grip Brando’s hair. He let his head rest on Bran’s shoulder as he slowly rode the wave of his orgasm. Meanwhile, the other boy was rubbing circles on his arm and whispering encouraging words into his ear like “you’re doing so good Wil” and “you’re the only one who can take me this well.” Which made Wilson’s knees and heart ache.

Just as Wil calmed down, Bran came shortly after him. His moans muffled from the fact that his head was buried in Wilson’s neck.

The pair stood there for what felt like hours, just shaking and panting. Brando realized the water had gotten cold and turned it off to which Wil whined in response, “I don't have the energy to walk.” “So, I’ll carry you.” Bran replied. The curly haired boy blushed, beet red. “What—“ Brando led him out of the shower and picked him up bridal style. “This okay for you, baby?” His voice was like honey that made Wil’s heart absolutely melt. “Mhm…” he mumbled in response. He tucked his head into Brando’s chest and wrapped his arms around his neck, thoroughly enjoying this new position. Brando opened the door with one hand and plopped Wil onto their bed. Then he picked out a fresh pair of his own boxers and a shirt, throwing it at Wilson. The two had become so used to sharing clothes it wasn’t even a question when Wil put them on.

Brando joined him on the bed after getting himself dressed. The two lay there, comfortable and content. Like nothing was wrong in the world. And maybe for them, the world was truly perfect. At least for right now.

Word count: 1321

Chapter Text

Song: blue hair by TV girl

His hair was shorter. He had been accepted by all his friends, his mom and Brando. No one judged him for dressing like a boy. But even after all that, when he looked in the mirror he never felt like he was seeing himself. He hardly recognized the person staring back at him. It was supposed to feel freeing to be able to express himself properly and publicly, but he felt as though his wings had been clipped. Wil would never truly be a man. He could always tell himself and be told he was one, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t have the same hormones or body as men. And he just had to deal with it.

Even now, just watching Brando swim in the creek, so freely, it made his stomach sink. Wil was watching him, sitting on a log, his shirt still on. He hadn’t worn his binder today because he figured there was no point if it would just get dirty and wet. And he was very serious about taking care of it. It was a miracle he didn’t have a naturally large chest or perhaps his predicament would be much worse. He’d wondered. Did Brando actually see him as a man? Did Brando like men? He was always so gentle with Wil whenever they kissed, alas, his mind ignored that. He truly had a way of fucking himself up. It was almost impressive.

Bran walked over to him, taking a seat next to him. His body was soaking wet as he pulled Wilson closer, arm wrapped around his shoulders. “Are you okay, Wil?” He asked, voice sweet and soft. Bran always saw right through him. “Just.. uhm.. yeah I’m fine.” Wil’s voice cracked as he spoke. Such a simple slip up but one that told Bran everything he needed to know. “Wilson.” Brando’s words became more stern. He held Wil’s chin and turned it to face him. “You don’t need to be okay with me. You know that. I might not understand what you’re struggling with but I can always try.” Wil’s shoulders relaxed a little and he buried his head in Bran’s chest. His boyfriend held him there, rubbing his back. At least Wil could always trust Bran. Right?

Word count: 379

Chapter Text

Song: So it goes by Taylor Swift

The club was loud, dizzying. Lights were flashing all over the place which made it hard to concentrate on anything. Brando was watching Wil on the dance floor. He looked absolutely mesmerizing. Bran admired the way he was able to let loose in a way Bran himself couldn’t. It was truly refreshing to see Wil be so confident and happy after such a long time of hiding himself. The difference between him a few months ago, the boy who buried himself in his art book and now, the one laughing on the club dance floor, was insane.

Bran’s smile quickly faded as a man approached Wil. His eyes locked in on the man, he already hated him. Of course given the fact that he was sitting at the bar and Wilson was on the dance floor, he couldn’t hear their conversation. But, he was sure it wasn’t anything he would approve of. The nameless man lightly touched Wil’s arm and that was more than enough for Bran. His throat burned and palms sweat as he approached the two. He stood behind Wilson, hands on his partner's waist and chin resting on his head.

“So you free then?” The man asked, quite literally paying no mind to Brando.

“Who the fuck are you?” The dirty blonde boy answered for Wil. His eyes stared daggers into the man’s eyes.

“Uhm my name’s Charlie and I think the question is who are you? And why are you all over him?” He practically spat in Brando’s face.

“You don’t get to just ask him out, prick.” Brando retorted. He was getting properly pissed off now.

“And you don’t own him.”

Bran’s fingernails dug into Wil’s hips, piercing into his skin. It was a bruising grip that made Wilson squirm, but he didn’t tell Bran to stop. The taller boy took a deep breath, trying to calm down as if he wasn’t using Wil as a stress toy.

“No but he’s my boyfriend and he’s frankly not interested in your stupid ass.” His words pierced through Charlie’s mind. And for a second, his smile faltered, lips twitching.

But it didn’t last long. He straightened his posture, and cleared his throat. “If he’s only interested in you, why didn’t he stop me from asking him out? Hm?”

Brando ignored him, instead he lowered his head until his mouth was pressed against Wil’s neck. He placed sickeningly sweet kisses to his skin. Wil moved his arm, practically clutching Bran’s head. His eyes fluttered shut and he let himself forget that they were still in public. Charlie watched— waiting, wondering what the point of this was. Did being sexual in public appeal to them? Was it a kink thing? Bran took Wil’s skin between his teeth, effectively biting him. Wilson opened his mouth, letting out a sound only the boy kissing him could hear. He licked over the mark and pressed a soft kiss to it.

He looked up at Charlie and said, “the mark on him is from me. He’s my fucking boyfriend not a sex toy for you. So, you can go fuck off before I punch that smile off your face, Charlie.”

Charlie hesitated at first, looking the pair over. But the look he was getting from Brando told him what was going to happen if he so much as even looked at Wil again. So he decided to be and walked away. Earning Bran to mumble a “finally” into Wilson’s neck.

The two stood there, basking in each other’s touch. Brando realized he was still squeezing Wil and let go. “Shit that’s gonna leave a mark.” He said, looking Wil over. Wil let out a small whine of protest at the loss of contact. If he could, he would spend every second of every day attached to Bran. Like a parasite— but a cute one. An adorable gay parasite.

Bran grabbed Wil’s hand, making the curly haired boy’s heart skip a beat. And without a warning, he pulled Wilson out of the club and into his car.

Wil started it, connecting his lips with Brando’s while laying down in the back. He hitched a leg on his boyfriend’s waist, desperate for some sort of friction. Bran leaned down, basically ripping Wil’s shirt off then kissing his chest. The kisses were rapid, rushed, begging for more. Wil let out a shaky breath, which then turned into a moan. And that sound went straight to Brando’s dick. “I’m the only one that gets to touch you like this. Right angel?” He asked, searching for reassurance even though they both knew he didn’t need it. Wilson had been in love with him since their first conversation. It wasn’t even a question. “Mhm.. just you..” Wilson choked out in between gasps from Brando’s mix of kisses and bites. He moved his hand down to his boyfriend's pants, pushing them down.

—

Wil was passed out in the back seat as Brando drove home. He just let him be. Bran’s fingers tapped impatiently against the wheel as he stopped at a red light. He turned back to look at the boy in the back. The way the moonlight reflected off his unconscious face and the way his curls fell perfectly into place made him look straight out of a museum. At least, to Brando he was perfect. Even if he refused to admit it for a long time, he would do anything for that boy. Of course Wil only started to actually believe he loved him when Brando started being publicly affectionate. Which of course he had every right to be skeptical. Bran had been an absolute asshole to Wil for years. And now he’d almost beat a guy up for flirting with him. So he thinks he’s made up or at least has started to make up for all the… assholery.

If a car hadn’t honked at him, he probably would’ve stayed looking at Wilson for an hour. But he did want to get home, to get Wil into bed so he could sleep properly and comfortably. So, he reluctantly continued driving. But his thoughts didn’t stray from the boy behind him. It was a constant reel of Wilson, Wilson, Wilson and more Wilson.

—

As the car pulled into the driveway he let out a sigh of relief. He wasted no time getting and getting Wilson out of the car, carrying him bridal style. He admired the boy in his arms, his clothes were ruffled from their… previous attacks. It made him all the more adorable.

Carrying him all the way to their room was quite hard given that he didn’t wanna wake him up, but he eventually got there. He laid Wilson down and went into the bathroom to get ready to go to bed.

While he brushed his teeth, his mind wondered to how he acted tonight. He didn’t essentially bask in the fact that he was aggressive and rude and possessive. In fact, he mostly loathed it. When he acted like that, it reminded him of his father. How his father acted with him. But the weird thing was that Wilson never complained about it or showed signs of disliking how he acted. Which did lift a weight off his chest. Bran loved to make Wil happy, he lived for it. It was as if God created Wilson specifically for Brando. And honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He joined Wilson in bed, pulling the blanket over them. Like Wil always did, maybe subconsciously, maybe not, he curled into Brando’s side. And Brando? He never complained about it. Instead he held him there and pressed a kiss to his head. He shut his eyes, smiling. Truly, he was content.

Word count: 1285

Chapter Text

If there was one thing everyone knew about Wilson Avis and Brando Daker, it’s that they hated each other. And not in a cute way. Wilson used to have a crush on Brando and Brando asked him out to a party just to lock him in a closet because he knew he was claustrophobic. Frankly, Wil was just as bad. The farthest he’d gone was when he spent a couple hours photoshopping a shitty photo of Bran and wrote stuff about him on the photo, given he had just watched Mean Girls, and hung them all around school. It was a very complicated task but he’d got it done. Wil was more of a quiet, lay low, type of mean kid. He hadn’t said a word about the posters, just sat in the back of his classes, doing his work. But everyone, especially Brando, knew he was responsible.

Wil was in the bathroom, on the counter, eating an apple. He had no interest in being in a cafeteria full of people whispering about him— or having to see Brando. Right, of course, because he hated him. And speak of the fucking devil. As if on cue Brando Daker walks in like he owns the place. Wil felt his heart stop and his hands sweat. Odd. Bran walked in front of him, wearing a stupid smirk. “Hiding in here again, Avis?” He taunted. Brando always refused to call Wil by Wil. It was always Avis or some stupid insult. Bran cocked his head to the side and stood in between Wilson’s legs. Wil would be lying if he didn’t say he found it hot— because Brando was a conventionally attractive man! “Hiding from you, yeah. Gotta preserve my sanity somehow.” Wil retorted, smirking right back at the dirty blonde. “You’re so good at lying.” The boy in front of him spoke, his tone softening a little. Wil tilted his head to the side, puzzled. “What?” He asked, subconsciously leaning forward. “Hiding from me yet here I am in between your legs? Just say you want me to fuck you god.” Wil was baffled. Absolutely baffled. Brando Daker just said that to him. What was life? “Please I don’t want you to fuck me. You’re only this close to me because I’m feeling nice.” He said, his hands increasingly sweating and pulse quickening. “So if I…” Bran paused, leaning forward to the point where their breaths mixed, then continued. “Was this close.. are you still feeling nice?” He was so annoying Wil wanted to punch him. How dare he make him feel so flustered? The boy played into it, leaning forward. His lips ghosted Brando’s as he said “if you think I’d ever wanna kiss you, you must be insane. Go hook up with one of the girls clinging to you.”

Alter he spoke, he shoved Brando back and hopped off the counter. While walking out, he felt victorious. Finally, he won. He had made Bran flustered and confused and maybe even made him feel a little insulted. What a perfect day?

—

Around a week later, Wilson had art last period. He was so relieved, a nice quiet way to end off the day. That was until he remembered, Brando was in art with him. He really couldn’t escape him could he?

Wil sat in the back of class, quietly working on his art project for the end of term. It was supposed to be ‘something that feels like you’ or whatever that meant. He was sure his teacher was a philosopher in another life. So, he’d chosen to do a small painting of the creek he’d always gone to when he was younger. It was his safe place, his spot. Before Brando discovered it and practically took it over. Imagine 14 year old Wilson’s surprise when he wanted to go swimming and saw Bran and his friends all over it, ruining it like it was theirs. Not only that but Brando shirtless?

He was sketching out a specific tree at the edge when he felt something hit his head. He turned around, spotting no other than Brando Daker at the scene of the crime. “Really? You’ve resorted to throwing paper at me? You’re getting sloppy Daker.” Wil said, smirking. He fully knew how his words could be interpreted without any context, and that’s why he said them like he did. Although Wilson would never admit it, he actually enjoyed bantering and flirting like this. “It annoyed you enough to look at me.” Brando threw the words right back at him. “You think about me enough to take time out of your day to annoy me? How sweet.” Wil’s smile faded, he was just getting irritated. He’d forgotten how unbearable Bran was. Bran leaned forward, holding Wilson’s chin. It was like everything around them stopped. Wil couldn’t think of anything to say. He didn’t even try to push the boy in front of him away. God, what was happening. “Maybe I just wanted to see that pretty face of yours mad.” Bran tilted his head to the side as he spoke. The sort of look on his face made it seem like Wil was his prey. And Wil hated how much he liked it. “Get off me asshole.” Wilson spat. But he made no actual effort to remove the boy from touching him. It was when their teacher spoke up that snapped the boys out of their trance. “Wilson and Brando. Save the fighting for after school. And Bran for the love of god let go of the poor boy.” In response, the dirty blonde rolled his eyes and reluctantly pulled away. He was still smirking like he’d proven a point. And maybe he had. But Wilson? Well, he would never give Bran the benefit of knowing that.

—

What was Bran doing? Shamelessly touching Wil like that in class. It was disappointing. What would his father say? Actually, he didn’t want to imagine that. He’d kept his father… pleased so far this year, he couldn’t fuck it up now. And if he hated that boy so much then why? Why was he laying awake at night dissecting every second of their interaction that day?

He couldn’t let Wil get so comfortable with him. He couldn’t let his father down. He needed to do something, something that Wilson wouldn’t forget. Bran needed to do something that would make Wil hate him. His parents were out this weekend. Maybe… he could invite a few friends over, which he knew would turn into them inviting their friends and so on. He’d make sure Wil was there. Bran just needed to figure out what to do.

—

This wasn’t how Wilson imagined he’d spend his Saturday night. He wasn’t one for parties and especially not one of Brando’s. He’d been once before and it was shit. Although this time he was dragged here against his own will. So hopefully it wouldn’t be as shit. He sat on a chair in the living room, watching people. Everyone was so fucking drunk the room stunk of beer. It was almost enough to make Wil throw up.

Bran walked over to him, without much warning he grabbed his hand and pulled him upstairs to his room. What the fuck? “Okay gosh I knew you were desperate you could’ve at least asked.” He said, laughing a little while sitting on Brando’s bed. The dirty blonde returned a puzzle look. Ah so this wasn’t a hook up. “My god I don’t wanna fuck you Wilson.” “Then why am I here exactly?” He asked, leaning a little back on his elbows. Bran sat next to him and rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to know my reasons.” Brando said, his voice returning to the harsh Bran Wilson had grown to know. “So mysterious Daker.” Wil taunted. He took a second to study Bran’s appearance. His jaw and fists were clenched, his breathing was fast. Why was he so nervous? It seriously confused Wil. Brando was never nervous around him. He was the type of guy to laugh at Wilson for not tying his shoelaces or something. The point is, something was up.

The boy fidgeted with his phone for so long Wil thought he was literally gonna explode. Finally as if he read his mind, Brando showed a sign of life. He stood up, texting something and quickly shoving his phone into his pocket “I uh— stay here. I need to go.” He said. It seemed like he’d made it up on the spot. Maybe it was the beer or just the fact that he found Brando extremely hot but he grabbed his wrist. “Wait. I need to see something first.” Wil breathed out, eyes scanning all over Bran’s body. The boy in front of him looked both confused and agitated. “Okay, go o—“ he was cut off by Wil’s lips on his. To say it took him by surprise is definitely an understatement. But fuck if this was his only chance he’d take it.

With no hesitation, he kissed him back. His fingers entangled themselves in his hair. Wil was playing around with the buttons on Bran's shirt, just wanting it off. Brando bit down on Wil’s bottom lip, causing the boy to moan into his mouth. He took the opportunity and slid his tongue into his mouth. Bran was practically eating him alive with how close they were and how desperate the kisses were. Wil had finally undone all the buttons, forcefully removing Brando’s hands from his hair and sliding his shirt off. He needed this so fucking bad.

Bran grabbed his hair, yanking Wil’s head back. And Wilson’s mouth fell open, not quite making noise but it was more than enough to tell Bran he liked it. “Fucking slut” Brando spat out then he shoved the boy onto his bed, crawling on top of him. Wil whined, impatiently. He’d waited far too long for this. Bran smirked and practically tore the boy's shirt off. His lips ghosted his collarbone bone. He debated for a few moments if he was allowed to leave marks, then he remembered he frankly didn’t care. Without further consideration, his lips met Wil’s collarbone. He sucked on his skin like a starved man. It was one hot and messy open mouthed kiss after another. And Wil wasn’t complaining. In fact he was being very responsive. His moans and gasps further fueled Bran’s actions. He took Wil’s skin on his neck between his teeth, almost animalistic. And he bit, hard. When he let go, there was a beautiful red mark on Wil’s neck. Bran licked a stripe over it, then pressed a soft kiss as if an apology. But god Wilson hadn’t found anything more hot.

“Bran I can’t, fuck— please.” Wil looked at Bran and begged, completely helpless. “Please what Wil?” The boy on top of him teased, hand running down Wil’s chest. “Please just- I need you to fuck me god please.” And like he was asked, he begged.
Bran hadn’t heard anything more beautiful than that before. And it went straight to his dick. “Fuck okay.” He choked out. Bran got the lube off his nightstand, he looked at Wilson expectantly. When the curly haired boy realized he still had his pants and boxers off, he wasted no time awkwardly shimmying them off and throwing them onto the ground. He bit his lip, eyes falling to Bran’s pants then back to his eyes. Wil didn’t ask for permission, he stripped Bran of his own clothes. Finally, skin to skin.

He applied the lube to his own dick and Wil’s hole. Bran knew he was supposed to stretch him before so it’d be more comfortable but he was just too fucking impatient. The dirty blonde sat up, pulling Wil with him. He motioned for him to come sit on his lap. And Wilson being Wilson didn’t waste a second. He wrapped his legs around Bran’s waist and let out such a loud wet moan as Bran’s cock entered him. It hurt so good. Brando helped adjust Wil so that it’d be a tad less painful. He pushed himself further, earning a gasp from the smaller boy.

Wilson began to move, finding a comfortable pace. His hands were splayed on Bran’s back, nails digging. Bran could’ve come just from this. Wil riding his dick like fucking owned it and he looked incredible while he did it. The way his eyes kept almost rolling back but not all the way, and the various sounds he made? It was enough to drive Bran crazy.

He pulsed inside Wil. It was too calm for him. It was nice— but not enough. His hand went to Wil’s cock and took his length in his hand. He stroked it, and squeezed, just wanting to hear all the sounds Wilson would make. He felt Wil’s nails digging deeper into his back, probably drawing a little blood. But it felt so good. The smaller boy buried his head in the crook of Bran’s neck, making it much easier for Bran to hear him moan.

Wil came quite easily, body shaking and screaming Brando’s name. And Bran well he could tell that the boy was tired. But unfortunately Brando just wasn’t satisfied enough.

“Hands and knees. Face the headboard.” He said, though it sounded more like the boy he was ordering had no choice. Wil complied though, slowly and carefully getting up. It did hurt a bit, the pullout. He got on his knees, leaning down, head buried in Bran’s pillow. “You take it so fucking good you little whore.”

With no warning, he thrust himself into Wil, hands holding his hips. His pace was fast and hard. He’d already done what Wil wanted, he went slow. Now it was his turn. Bran whimpered as Wil clenched around him, it was an indescribable feeling of pleasure. Wil’s jaw went slack, drooling onto the pillow. His cheeks were red and his ass hurt like absolute hell. Bran pulled Wilson’s head up, trying to see his expression. God, even when his brains were getting fucked out of him, he looked like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. In one particular thrust, his cock dragged against Wilson’s prostate. “Brandohhh..! Please Bran.” He said, words slurring with lust. He didn’t make Wil beg, although it was tempting. He thrust in deeper again, determined to make Wil feel good.

Tears formed in the curly haired boy’s eyes as he rode his orgasm out. “Bran!” and “Fuck!” Were some of the things Bran picked up. But he was quite distracted by himself coming. He filled up perfectly. The way his come went into his hole, barely dripping out. Sure, it’d be a pain to clean later but for now it was worth it.

They lay next to each other. Bran was partially covered in lube and legs covered in Wil’s come. “You tell no one this happened. Got it Avis?” Brando said, searching for reassurance. “If I don't, will this happen again?” He asked in response. It wasn’t that he liked Bran but he definitely like the way he fucked him. “If you can find me at a time. Maybe.” “Deal.”

Word count: 2467

Chapter Text

Song: Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter

The sun hadn’t even risen, it was 6:30 AM. And for some goddamn reason Brando was awake. Of course, not by choice but unfortunately once he was up he couldn’t fall back asleep. He looked down at the boy in his arms, so deeply sleeping. Wil looked like he belonged there, clinging to him. The sight was truly adorable.

Bran pressed a soft kiss to Wilson’s neck. He usually woke his boyfriend up with quick kisses and coffee. But god right now Bran wanted more than that. His lips moved against Wil’s neck, sweet and practiced. He knew he was doing something right when he felt the boy stirring in his arms. “Bran?” Wil mumbled, glassy eyes looking up at him. “Mhm” “what’re you doing?” Wilson’s words were sluggish due to his tired state. Another thing about him Bran loved. “Should I stop?” He asked in return. Wil thought about it, biting his lip. Then shook his head.

His hand carefully slipped underneath the oversized shirt Wil was wearing, drawing small circles on his abs. Wilson practically melted at the touch, sinking into the sheets. Bran moved his head from his boyfriend’s neck and instead placed a slow kiss on his lips. It was sweet, intimate, enough to make Wil’s heartbeat speed up. “You’re so touchy” he spoke against Bran’s lips, sheepishly smiling. Bran returned the smile, kissing him again. He moved on top of the other boy, legs on either side of Wil’s hips. Then he proceeded to slowly take Wilson’s shirt off, tossing it somewhere on the ground. His lips connected with his boyfriend’s chest as he placed kisses on his body as if he was worshiping the boy. Another thing Bran liked to do was hold eye contact. He liked to be able to see Wil squirming and all the faces he made while he kissed him. For Wilson, the eye contact made me feel slightly embarrassed, he hated the thought of him being perceived by someone. But he let it go for Bran.

Wil was still, unfortunately, very tired. He felt his eyes closing, but of course, Brando noticed this. He put his hand underneath Wilson’s sweatpants, inching closer to his boxers. That woke Wil up all right. He let out a whine, hands fisting the sheets. “Is there something you want?” Bran asked, all smirks and teasing. “Don’t make me beg.” The dirty blonde haired boy looked up at him. Wil was flushed and desperate, he looked in Bran’s opinion, the most beautiful when he was like this. “You’re lucky I love you.” Before he went further, he slid Wil’s sweatpants off, then boxers. Finally, he carefully stroked Wilson’s hardon. Wil titled his head back, a small moan escaping his mouth.

As much as Wilson wanted to be touched, he had shit to do today so they couldn’t take long. He took Bran’s hand, moving it away. The action only earned him a confused look and for Bran to ask “did I do something?” To which Wil answered, “no just, busy day. We can’t take long.” Bran sighed like he was personally attacked but nonetheless listened.

He reached over and grabbed the lube from the nightstand, slicking his fingers up. “Turn over.” He mumbled while his hand rubbed Wil’s waist. And Wilson did just that, turning over, blushing like he was still in high school having sex for the first time. It always felt like that with Brando. Bran’s hand tracing over Wil’s ass, as if studying his body. “Stop teasing me…” Wil whined. The dirty blonde boy just smiled and slowly, carefully, pushed a practiced hand into Wil.

He went soft at first, holding Wil’s hips and whispering words of encouragement. Then when Wilson had started pushing against his finger, he added a second finger. Bran made sort of a scissoring motion to open the boy up. He loved this, hearing Wil moan and gasp, feeling his shake knowing it was because of something he was doing, making Wil feel good. It was almost addicting. Wilson felt hot all over with his boyfriend’s fingers inside of him. He was already so far gone it was pathetic. And he wanted more, he needed more.

Bran took his fingers out causing Wilson to whine at the newfound emptiness inside him. The dirty blonde boy leaned over his boyfriend, mouth next to his ear. “Are you ready, angel?” His voice was deep and rough, filled with want. Wil nodded, too horny to form a coherent sentence. The boy sat back up, reaching for the lube again. This time applying it to his cock rather than fingers. He held Wil’s waist, steadying him.

In one simple moment he started inching himself into Wil’s anus. Wil’s head dropped forward, falling onto the pillow to muffle his moans. Bran pushed himself further in, slowly. Each thrust was met with Wilson’s own hips pushing back. Clearly he was more than desperate at this point. “You’re so good, baby. You take my cock so well.” Bran praised his boyfriend, his voice dripping with affection. His thrusts slightly sped up, hitting Wilson’s prostate almost every time. Wil instinctively bucked his hips back, wanting Bran deeper. Bran wrapped his hand around Wilson’s length stroking and pulling. He leaned over, kissing his boyfriend’s back like he was trying to make Wil melt. And it was working horribly well.

The sound of moans, whimpers and skin hitting skin filled the otherwise quiet house. The sun was just just rising now, which helped showcase Wilson’s facial features. Bran kissed the side of his mouth, taking a moment to admire the man he was quite literally inside of. Wilson’s beauty had always shocked Brando. He could simply sit and stare at him all day and be happy.

Wil hadn’t said anything, not that he was saying anything opposed to just Bran’s name, but he felt himself come. The boy shook like a wet cat as his come coated Bran’s hand and the bed sheets. “So good…” Brando praised him one final time before he himself came. The two boys settled down, laying on the bed tangled in one another like how they fell asleep.

“If I can’t focus at work it’s entirely your fault.” The curly haired boy looked up at his lover, a stern tone but his smile gave him away. “How horrible I am for loving my boyfriend.” Bran teased. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss to Wil’s lips. To which Wilson rolled his eyes. “I’m being serious! I shouldn’t have let you try anything. You need to learn impulse control.” The other boy laughed dryly at those words. Bran and control? Yeah right. “You’re complaining as if you weren’t just screaming my—“ he got cut off by Wil’s hand over his mouth. “Shut up.” Bran giggled at that, finding Wil’s “annoyance” adorable. Even if they were completely and utterly insufferable and in love, which sometimes was a distraction, they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Word count: 1162