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Being with James in his flat so late at night was like playing house sometimes. Will moved languidly around him in the kitchen as dinner was cooked and stared at the TV from the island counter as James moved around behind him, finely chopping ingredients for food Will never bothered to learn to make himself. James would poke fun and tease the older for being incompetent with a fond look on his face and a false glare while Will playfully rolled his eyes and told him to fuck off. Their dynamic had slowly turned domestic over the years and Will wasn’t sure when watching James cook turned into something normal for them. Maybe when Rodd’s became less of an idea and more of a game plan and Will stayed in Brighton for longer periods of time.
Love was stored in shared pasta eaten on the sofa while Formula One played on the TV, Will completely engrossed while James scrolled on his phone, occasionally stealing glances at the older to bask in his happiness. Plates were cast aside on coffee tables and Will laid his head in James’ lap. Physical touch came easy to them now, it had been seven years and James was used to running his hands through unruly curls and detangling them with his fingers while Will idly sent emails on his phone, soft complaints falling from his mouth as he breathed softly in time with James.
It is ten-o-clock on a Tuesday night and Will is surrounded by James. His cologne, his stuff in his apartment, his hands in Will’s hair, his hoodie on Will’s skin, his food in Will’s stomach. His head feels light and airy as another knot is detangled and Will sighs gently, this is a recurring occasion. The Geordie comes over and James offers everything in his house to him like it’s nothing. Because he is selfless when it comes to Will Lenney, because he adores him with every bone in his six-foot-four body, because this is easy. He’s wrapped around Will’s finger and he’s doing nothing about it.
Sometimes you chalk your own love up to loving your best mate instead of romance; James did this for a long time until he had a dream about a future where Will was holding a toddler with James’ hazel eyes and Will’s slightly crooked smile; A little girl maybe two or three, and he couldn’t forget it for the life of him. James wants that future so badly, so he sits and he combs his hands through Will’s hair and imagines a daughter in the spare bedroom down the hall in five-to-eight years time. He cooks dinner and imagines a wedding band around Will’s ring finger instead of the flower ring on his pinky. Thinks of his own clinking in Will’s when they hold hands.
They haven’t even kissed and James imagines a future with Will.
Will looks up at James when the younger starts gently tracing his face with his pointer finger—he’s done this before and it always ends with Will falling asleep in his lap while he softly pets his sleep furrowed eyebrows. James doesn’t want him to fall asleep this time so he speaks softly, “Where do you imagine yourself in five years time?” Will’s face contorts and James smooths the lines out with his thumb. “Doin’ YouTube still hopefully, travelin’, maybe have a life.” The ‘with you’ part of the sentence goes unspoken but the little smile on Will’s face tells James everything he needs to know.
James hums, watches as Will blinks up at him. “Why’d you ask?” James smiles and then shrugs half-assed, like he doesn’t know why he asked. “I’ve been thinking about futures.” Will grins, all sunny and sweet in the glow of the TV screen. “You’re a real sap.” It would be so easy to ask Will to sit up and ever so slightly tip his chin up into a kiss. Everything not shared but still heard, like their minds have synced from knowing each other for so long. James silently counts the freckles on Will’s nose, makes it up to thirty-two and loses count.
Maybe that little girl will have those same freckles. “You’re staring y’kna.” Will’s accent is layered on thick, he hasn’t filmed this week and the North is weighing in on him, James loves it. “I like staring at you.” When he got so bold, James has no idea but he traces the outline of Will’s nose and exhales a sigh. Will chuckles, his body lightly jolting the younger man’s thigh. “You like what y’see?” James scrunches his nose up at him, lightly thumbs at Will’s lips; Chapped and rough but still slightly soft.
“Yea, ‘course I do.” Will’s pretty objectively, but James is obsessed with him in a way that makes his own heart beat out of his chest. He’s beautiful, like his face was hand sculpted and his body was pre-made just for James to gently run his hands along. James wants to kiss him. So he asks, “Can you sit up for a minute?” and Will obeys, expecting the other man to readjust his position on the couch but instead his hand tilts Will’s chin up and he speaks again, “Can I kiss you?” because it’s easy. Because playing boyfriends has been extremely easy and James wants to reap the rewards.
Will grins, sighs out a soft “Thought you’d never ask, you big dope.” and so James leans forward and presses his own lips onto Will’s, takes in those chapped lips that taste like ice pop Prime and lingering nicotine and smiles into it when Will tries to bite onto his lip. James feels like cartoon hearts are popping above his head as he leans into it more and it gains a little whine out of Will. James pulls away first with a giant grin dancing on his features, looks at Will who’s smiling shyly at him like a cat who’s got the cream.
“Sooner next time.” Will pats James on the cheek, and he laughs, pressing his forehead to Will’s, closing his eyes. “Had a dream, y'know. About a future with you and I want it to happen so bad I think I’ll go crazy if it doesn’t.” Will kisses his cheek, pulls away, laying his head on James’ shoulder. “We’ll have to make it happen then, huh?” Will teases, his eyes fluttering.
“If you give me the pleasure of being yours.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”