You and Wilbur were visiting each other, staying in your apartment together for a few weeks before he went off for tour.

The both of you were in the kitchen, cooking something for dinner after deciding to not get takeout again.

You sat on the counter, pajama shorts sitting comfortably on your body and hanging on your hips while the oversized shirt you wore that had some worn out graphic design on it was adjusted to be half tucked in your shorts.

Wilbur was in sweatpants himself, a basic black nightshirt with short sleeves on while he turned the oven off, you said something silly and he laughed.

You grabbed a bowl from the cupboard near your head, handing it to him and he closed the cupboard, getting close to you.

Both of you paused, Wilbur looked at you from your seat on the counter and he let his gaze drift from your eyes to your lips and then back up again.

You swallowed nervously, doing the same just quicker, placing a hand on his chest Wilbur put the bowls down and placed his hands on your hips, leaned forward and kissed you softly.