#soft!brad

“Seriously? You want to watch a scary movie after watching Moana?” You turned to face the boy who served as your (daresay, very comfortable) pillow, still appearing quite pleased with himself after his little performance. His eyes danced playfully, his hold around you tightening for just a fraction of a second.

“What? You scared?” 

You scoffed and turned back to the television. “You just want an excuse to keep cuddling.”

“You’re damn right I do.”

Sleep teased the edges of your mind, slowly yet surely pulling you closer until your eyes were surely beginning to flutter shut. However, as Brad stopped just outside your apartment and turned to you, sleep was the very last thing on your mind. 

A smile teased at the corners of his lips, swiping his palms down his jeans as he shifted his car into park. “I’m not sure where you are... But I definitely want to do this again.”

You smiled, caring little about whether or not it was little too enthusiastic. How could you? The boy you once only imagined in your dreams actually wished to spend more time with you. “I would love to.” You paused and before you could rethink it, flashed him a wink. “If I get to pay for dinner next time.”

His eyes rolled playfully, head falling back against his headrest as he sent you a goofy glare. “Maybe — no promises.”

It was nearly impossible to wipe the stupid grin on your face. “Deal.”

There was a brief moment of silence as you both simply admired the other, as if committing the others features to memory forever. You had just began working up the will to actually go inside when he took you completely off guard. 

“Can I kiss you right now?” 

That was the moment you realized — falling in love with this boy was going to be the easiest, most beautiful thing you would ever do.

And you were going to love every minute of it. 

More often than not, when Brad returned home from tour, he fell sick in (usually) a matter of hours. It was often nothing more than a common cold, though often left him bed-ridden for a few days.

“How’s your throat?” 

He took the hot mug from your fingers, relishing the way the burning liquid soothed his equally burning throat. When he spoke, it was barely a whisper. “Peachy.”

You smiled as you slipped onto your side of the bed, fingers brushing through his curls as he sipped at his tea. “Yeah, I made sure to put your stupid honey in there.”

He managed a rather pathetic smile, though it was a smile nonetheless. He waved a dismissive hand, gaze returning to the show he’d been binge-watching since he landed. 

“Oh, come on, can’t I spend some time with my boyfriend?”

He coughed and mumbled a raspy, “You’ll get sick.”

“Brad, I don’t care if I get sick. I haven’t seen for you almost three months.” Pausing, you offered a (somewhat) teasing, “I’ll let you be the little spoon.”

You knew the moment he’d given in.

He released a half-hearted sigh and set his tea down, waiting for you to fall under the covers before bringing you closer. He was overtly warm, enough that you had to kick your socks off to even consider keeping a blanket on. 

It wasn’t long before he was cuddled into your arms, fingers delicately tracing through his hair and lulling him to sleep with your heartbeat. Despite his love for music, it was undeniably his favorite sound. 

Less than a week later, you awoke with a terrible cough and the feeling as if you’d never be able to breathe again. 

Brad’s word of advice? “I told you that you’d get sick if you cuddled with me.”