In the morning, the sharp, rhythmic buzz of the phone alarm cut through the quiet bedroom. Willy woke up instantly, his hand darting out to silence the screen before the noise could disturb the boy sleeping beside him. Tim was completely dead to the world, breathing softly, his face looking incredibly soft without his usual guarded expression.
Willy leaned over slightly, carefully brushing a few stray locks of dark hair away from Tim's forehead, and pressed a quiet, gentle kiss against his skin.
Tim's eyelashes fluttered open. The moment his gaze locked onto Willy, a sudden wave of uncharacteristic shyness washed over his face. Flustered, Tim immediately lowered his head, hiding his blushing face directly against Willy's chest.
Willy chuckled, the vibration rumbling in his torso. "Good morning, sleepyhead. Get up and get ready, we have a flight to catch."
"Good morning," Tim's muffled voice came from beneath the blanket. "Just give me five more minutes. I'll start moving then, promise."
Instead of getting up, Tim wrapped his arms tightly around Willy's waist, burying himself deeper into the warmth, completely refusing to let go. As his brain slowly fogged through the remnants of sleep, he suddenly paused, looking around the unfamiliar room. He remembered eating pizza and watching the opening credits of a movie on the couch, but everything after that was a total blank.
Tim looked up, blinking. "Wait... how did I even get into your bed?"
Willy raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "What do you think, genius?"
The previous night, the moment Tim had drifted off against his shoulder, Willy had carefully slid his arms under him, lifting him effortlessly off the sofa. He had carried him into the master bedroom, gently laying him across the mattress and sliding his shoes off. But just as Willy had turned to slip back out to the living room couch, Tim had instinctively reached out in his sleep, his fingers locking around Willy's wrist in a desperate, subconscious grip.
"I'm right here, Tim. I'm not going anywhere," Willy had whispered into the darkness.
Tim hadn't replied, but his breathing had instantly stabilized, a look of pure relief washing over his sleeping face. Willy hadn't wanted to risk breaking that rare, peaceful slumber by prying his hand away, so he had simply climbed in, lying down carefully right next to him for the rest of the night.
Tim bit his lip, looking genuinely apologetic. "We didn't even get to finish the movie last night because of me. I'm sorry, Willy."
"It's fine," Willy reassured him, his tone soft. "We can just finish it another time."
"I don't think that's going to work," Tim murmured, a bittersweet smile touching his lips.
Willy frowned, genuinely confused by the sudden deflection. "Why do you say that?"
"Because when I'm with you, Willy, I feel this overwhelming sense of calm and safety. My brain finally shuts up," Tim confessed, his eyes locking onto Willy's with terrifying honesty. "I think the exact same thing will happen next time, too. The second I sit next to you, I'm just going to pass out. We're never going to finish a movie."
Willy's heart did a violent, erratic flip against his ribs. The sheer weight of Tim's words made a wave of intense happiness wash over him. Struggling to keep his icy composure, he cleared his throat and patted Tim's shoulder. "Alright, seriously, wake up now. We have to go."
"Five more minutes," Tim pouted, squeezing him tighter.
"You already used that excuse, and those five minutes are officially up."
Tim sighed dramatically, staring up at the ceiling. "You know what superpower I wish I had right now, Willy?"
It was a completely random, unexpected question, but Willy was slowly learning how to navigate the strange, beautiful labyrinth of Tim's mind. "Time travel?"
"No, but you're close," Tim smiled softly. "Time control. I want the ability to completely freeze time."
"Why? Just so you can ignore your alarm and sleep longer?" Willy teased.
"No," Tim whispered, his gaze turning incredibly intense as he looked up at him. "I want to freeze time because I want this exact moment to last forever. When else am I ever going to get the chance to wake up to your kiss in the morning and just hold you like this?"
Willy felt the heat rushing to his ears. He looked away, his voice quiet but steady. "Maybe... maybe you'll get to wake up like this every single day in the future."
Tim's eyes widened slightly before a massive, radiant smile broke across his face. He pulled Willy down into an even tighter, crushing hug. "Forget the international tournament. Let's just stay right here in this bed and never leave."
"We have to go, Tim. We don't have a choice. The university is counting on us," Willy said, forcefully breaking out of the embrace to sit up.
Tim immediately began to sulk, burying his face back into the pillows, making it painfully obvious that he had absolutely zero intention of moving toward the airport. Willy knew exactly how to handle his stubborn streak now. Leaning back down, he captured Tim's lips in a deep, firm, and lingering kiss.
When he pulled back, Tim was completely breathless, his eyes shining with a dazed, brilliant happiness. Tim swallowed hard, reaching up to pull Willy down by the collar just enough to whisper against his ear.
"Great. Now I want to stay here even more," Tim purred.
Willy smirked, standing up from the bed. "If we actually get through this competition together, I promise I'll kiss you again."
The effect of the promise was instantaneous. The second those words left Willy's mouth, Tim practically bolted out of the bed, his previous lethargy completely vanishing as he began frantically searching the room. Willy leaned against the doorframe, a fond, amused expression on his face as he watched Tim pace back and forth.
"Come on," Willy said. "Let's get in the car so we can stop by your apartment and grab your luggage."
Tim waved his hand dismissively. "My apartment? Why would we waste time going there? I have my passport in my pocket, and honestly, I don't need anything else."
Willy blinked. "Are you planning to travel internationally without a single change of clothes?"
"You're completely forgetting that we're flying to the exact country where I actually grew up, Captain," Tim reminded him smoothly. "I have an entire wardrobe and everything I could ever need waiting for me at my estate there."
"Okay, but what about right now?" Willy pointed out, gesturing to Tim's rumpled outfit. "You literally slept in those clothes, and you're planning to walk into an international airport looking like that?"
Tim paused, looking down at himself, then shot Willy a wicked, mischievous grin. "Then I'll just borrow something from your closet."
Willy's eyes widened. "I don't think my style will"
Before Willy could even finish his sentence, Tim had already marched into the walk-in closet and began pulling hangers off the racks. Within a minute, a massive, chaotic pile of shirts and trousers was tossed onto the mattress.
Willy sighed, rubbing his temples. "What are you doing? It's going to take me hours to fold and reorganize all of that."
"Perfect," Tim beamed, holding up a designer button-down. "Then we'll definitely miss our boarding call and we'll be forced to stay here."
Willy's smile faded, his sharp intuition picking up on the underlying pattern. Ever since Tim had opened his eyes this morning, he had been desperately trying to manufacture any excuse to avoid leaving the house. And yet, joining the club and entering this international tournament had been Tim's idea from the very beginning.
Willy walked over, his expression turning serious. "Tim, what's really going on? You've been trying to sabotage this trip since the moment you woke up."
Tim froze, the shirt in his hand dropping onto the bed. He suddenly avoided Willy's gaze, his jaw tightening as he stared at the floor. He opened his mouth, but it seemed like the words were physically catching in his throat.
"I'll clean up this mess I made," Tim muttered quietly, his playful demeanor completely vanishing. "It won't take me more than ten minutes. Just... wait for me downstairs, and then we can leave."
He was completely shutting down, deliberately looking away to evade the conversation. Willy stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and firmly caught both of Tim's hands in his own.
"Don't do that. Don't avoid me," Willy said, his voice laced with a gentle but unyielding authority. "Tell me what's happening. You told me last night that you trusted me, Tim. Prove it."
Tim hesitated, a profound vulnerability flickering through his eyes. He let out a long, ragged breath. "You're... you're going to think it's a completely childish, pathetic reason. But the truth is... I absolutely hate that country."
Willy stared at him, genuinely shocked. He hadn't expected an answer with that much gravity. Tim had just traveled across the border to visit his family a few days ago. What on earth had happened during that brief trip to cause such a visceral, dark shift in him?
"I hold dual citizenship," Tim continued, his voice tight and hollow. "But the truth is, I don't feel comfortable or safe in either country. Even though I technically have a luxury home in both places, neither of them has ever felt like a real home to me. But... I know how much this specific international championship means to your career and the university club. That's the only reason I'm forcing myself to go."
A wave of intense warmth and protectiveness crashed over Willy. Without a word, he pulled Tim into a tight, secure embrace, gently patting the back of his head. "Why didn't you just tell me that from the very start, you idiot?" Willy whispered against his hair. "I'll call the rector right now and tell him we're pulling out of the tournament. We can cancel everything."
Tim shook his head against Willy's shoulder, his grip tightening. "No. We have to go. Willy, I would do absolutely anything for you."
Willy pulled back just enough to look him dead in the eye. "Remember what you told me at the bowling alley yesterday? You should never force yourself to do something you genuinely hate or fear just to make someone else happy. I am holding you to your own standard, Tim. I'm calling the university administration right now."
Willy turned around to search the nightstand for his phone, but Tim's hand shot out, firmly catching his wrist to stop him.
"No, Willy, please. We are going," Tim insisted, a fierce, protective look entering his eyes. "I might completely despise that place and the memories attached to it... but I love you. And as long as you are standing right by my side, I feel like I can face absolutely anything."
Willy's chest tightened, a profound warmth spreading through his entire being. He wrapped his arms back around Tim, leaning up to press a firm, deeply reassuring kiss against his forehead.
"I promise you, with everything I have, I will be right by your side the entire time," Willy vowed softly. "Now, change your clothes so we can go. The very second you feel uncomfortable or want to turn back, you tell me immediately. Deal?"
Tim nodded slowly, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. He carefully selected a sleek black shirt and tailored trousers from the pile and retreated into the master bathroom to change, while Willy quickly began sorting the rest of his scattered wardrobe back into the closet.
A few minutes later, the bathroom door clicked open. Willy turned around to speak, but the words completely died in his throat. He couldn't take his eyes off him.
Because Willy possessed a broader, more athletic build, the shirt was noticeably tight across Tim's frame. The fabric clung perfectly to his broad shoulders, pulling taut against his chest and accentuating his lean, sculpted waist in a way that was dizzyingly attractive. Tim immediately caught the predatory, paralyzed look in Willy's eyes. A slow, arrogant smirk returned to his face, and he deliberately paused, smoothing down the front of the trousers just to prolong the attention.
"What's the matter, Captain?" Tim purred, taking a slow step forward. "Can't take your eyes off me?"
Willy completely lost the ability to articulate a coherent thought, his gaze tracing the lines of his own clothes on Tim's body.
Tim chuckled, thoroughly enjoying his victory. "I know your mind is running wild right now, but if we don't move, we are seriously going to miss our flight."
Willy snapped out of his trance, clearing his throat aggressively to hide his embarrassment. "Right. You're right. Let's... let's go get some breakfast first."
Tim leaned in close, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Are you hungry? What exactly do you want to eat, Willy? Me?"
Willy groaned, pushing Tim's face away as he walked past him toward the kitchen. Tim flirted at every single given opportunity, and Willy honestly wondered if his heart would ever survive getting used to it.
"Okay, okay, I'll stop," Tim laughed, catching up to him in the hallway and naturally sliding his fingers between Willy's, holding his hand tightly as they entered the kitchen. Tim pulled open the refrigerator, scanning the shelves. "How about I whip up some gourmet club sandwiches?"
"Sounds great," Willy nodded, reaching for a knife. "I'll help you prepare."
Tim gently but firmly pushed him toward the breakfast bar stool. "No need. Sit down. It is my official duty to take care of you today."
Willy reluctantly sat back down, knowing there was absolutely no point in arguing with an energized Tim. He leaned his chin on his hand, quietly watching Tim move gracefully around the kitchen, slicing ingredients and humming a quiet melody. His college friends visited his house constantly, but with Tim standing there, the entire atmosphere of the space felt fundamentally altered. It felt warm. Safe. Domestic. Willy wasn't used to this feeling at all, his entire life, as the reliable captain and older brother, he was always the one taking care of everyone else. This was the first time in his life someone else was stepping up to take care of him.
"And here is your masterpiece," Tim smiled proudly, sliding a perfectly assembled sandwich and a fresh glass of juice in front of him.
Willy took a bite, his eyes widening. "Wow... thank you, Tim. This is actually incredible."
"Is it so delicious that you would consider marrying me on the spot?" Tim asked casually, leaning against the counter.
Willy instantly started coughing violently, the food catching in his throat as he choked in pure shock. He quickly grabbed his juice, taking a long gulp while Tim laughed hysterically.
Willy glared at him, wiping his mouth. "Maybe," he muttered under his breath.
Tim's laughter cut off instantly. He hadn't expected Willy to actually play along with the joke. A predatory, thrilled glint entered his eyes, and he leaned across the counter, his voice dropping an octave. "Oh? Is that a promise, Captain? Then I will definitely try again tomorrow. I'll make sure you say a definitive 'yes' by the time we land."
Willy rolled his eyes, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. "Stop joking around. Why are you so utterly obsessed with the idea of marriage anyway? You're still so young."
The playful glint in Tim's eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden, piercing gravity that made Willy pause. "So what if I'm young?" Tim said softly, his voice incredibly earnest. "I know with absolute certainty that you are my soulmate, Willy. I want to spend every single remaining day of my life with you. My entire life, I grew up believing that I was broken, that I didn't deserve happiness or love. Until I met you. I don't want to waste a single second playing games or waiting for the 'right time.' I've suffered enough in my past, and now, I just want to be genuinely happy with you."
Willy stared at him, the raw intensity of the confession leaving him completely exposed. "Tim... I understand where you're coming from," Willy began carefully, his voice dropping. "But... I haven't even officially agreed to be your boyfriend yet, and you're already planning a massive wedding."
Tim's expression went completely blank. The vulnerable warmth in his eyes crystallized into something cold and deeply hurt. "Your words really don't match your actions, Willy," he said quietly.
Without waiting for a response, Tim turned around and walked straight out the back door into the courtyard.
Willy let out a heavy sigh, staring at the half-eaten sandwich. He knew if he chased after Tim right this second while they were both heightened, it would only dissolve into a bitter, emotional argument. He quietly cleared the table, washed the dishes, and retrieved his packed suitcase from the bedroom. Rolling it out to the garage, he tossed it into the trunk, got behind the wheel, and started the engine.
He honked the horn softly. "Tim! It's time to go."
Tim didn't say a word. He walked out of the garden, climbed into the passenger seat, pulled his seatbelt across his chest with a sharp click, and stared rigidly out the side window.
The entire drive to the international airport was suffocated by a heavy, agonizing silence. Neither of them spoke a single word.
When they finally arrived at the terminal, Tim immediately hopped out, walked to the back, and hauled Willy's heavy suitcase out of the trunk himself. The aggressive, silent movement was a textbook display of: 'I am absolutely furious with you, but I still refuse to let you lift heavy things.' As they walked through the sliding glass doors of the departure hall, Willy noticed that nearly every single head in the terminal was turning to look at them. Tim already naturally stood out in a crowd due to his impressive height, but today, dressed in Willy's tight, high-end tailored clothing, he looked utterly breathtaking like a dark, mysterious runway model. Willy felt a sudden, sharp pang of possessive jealousy hit his chest as he watched several strangers openly stare.
Deciding he couldn't take the public display anymore, Willy broke the long silence. "Our boarding gate hasn't opened yet. Let's wait over here in the lounge area."
Tim followed him without a word, sitting down on the sleek leather seats and pulling out his phone, completely ignoring Willy's presence. The silence stretched for another ten minutes until Willy couldn't take the suffocating distance anymore.
"Tim," Willy sighed, leaning forward. "We need to talk about this."
Tim didn't look up from his screen. "Okay. But not out here in the open."
"Then where?" Willy pressed.
"I don't know, but definitely not in the middle of a crowded terminal where literally everyone can hear the intimate details of our conversation," Tim muttered coldly.
Willy closed his eyes, centering himself. "Fine. Let's table the relationship discussion until we check into our hotel rooms. But please, let's talk about something else right now. I feel completely miserable sitting here like this, and I refuse to spend a multi-hour international flight in total silence with you."
Tim's shoulders dropped slightly. He felt entirely miserable too. He was used to isolation, but being actively angry at Willy felt like an entirely different kind of torture. He stared at his phone for a moment, his fingers flying across the keyboard.
A second later, Willy's phone buzzed in his palm. He unlocked it to find a long paragraph from the boy sitting right next to him.
Tim:I'm sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn't have snapped and gotten angry at you like that. I know I'm rushing things and moving way too fast, but I'm just terrified of losing this. I want to spend every single morning waking up next to you, Willy. I love you, and no matter how much time you need to figure things out, I promise I will wait for you. I will do absolutely everything in my power to earn the right to be your boyfriend. Let's just get through this flight, and tonight, I'm inviting you out for a proper dinner and a walk around the city.
Willy read the text, a profound wave of guilt and tenderness washing over his chest. Tim was putting his entire heart on the line, constantly taking care of him and adjusting to his boundaries. No one had ever protected or cherished Willy like this before. Tim was right Willy was letting his own fear paralyze him.
Willy began typing his response, his fingers trembling slightly.
Willy:You don't need to apologize to me, Tim. What you said out there was completely true. The truth is, I am terrified of expressing my vulnerabilities. I don't even have the courage to say that I love you out loud yet because I'm still trying to process how fast my world changed. I'm still trying to get used to someone caring for me like this. Thank you for not giving up on me. I accept your invitation for dinner tonight.
Tim read the response, and a radiant, beautiful smile instantly broke across his face, completely erasing the icy tension between them. He looked up, his eyes locked onto Willy's with a warm, unspoken understanding. The awkwardness completely vanished.
But just as Tim was about to speak, his phone vibrated again. A message from an unlisted, blocked number appeared on his screen.
Unknown:I see you're boarding a flight back to your home country today. Wise decision. If you value your life, stay across the border and never show your face here again. Your father managed to pull strings and save you once when you were a child, but he won't be able to save you a second time.
Tim's grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white. A dark, terrifying coldness washed over his features. He instantly hovered his thumb over the delete button, but a sudden flash of dangerous defiance stopped him. He clicked reply, his thumbs typing with a furious, icy precision.
Tim:Stop wasting your time sending me pathetic threats. You are neither the first nor the last shadow trying to put a target on my back. Get in line and take a number, it's not your turn yet. Since you clearly know my travel schedule so well, feel free to drop by and meet me whenever you want. If you think I'm that terrified little boy from your memories, you are dead wrong. You're the one who is terrified, hiding behind a burner number. If you actually have something to say to me, show your face and say it to my eyes. Oh, and I completely forgot to mention I know exactly who you are.
Tim hit send. The moment the message marked as delivered, he instantly wiped the entire chat history and deleted the contact log, ensuring that not a single trace of the exchange remained on his device for Willy to see. He locked the screen, slipped the phone back into his pocket, and looked back at Willy with a perfectly practiced, flawless smile.