A Bridesmaids Tale part 7

Hello Friends

Here is the next part in a sweet story about Andy and and Will.

It is quite long but remember you can download the Audio version at the bottom.

A Bridesmaids Tale part 7

  Will swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest.

Andy was still looking at him, wide-eyed, breath shaky, lips parted like he wanted to speak but didn’t know what to say. His dress shimmered under the soft lantern glow, his cheeks still damp with the remnants of tears, his entire body radiating uncertainty and something else—something fragile.

But Will needed to know.

He took a slow, steadying breath.

“Andy,” he said, his voice quiet, careful.

Andy’s breath hitched. “Y-yeah?”

Will hesitated for only a second before asking, “Did you… want to kiss me?”

Andy’s whole body went still.

His fingers curled into the fabric of his dress. His chest rose and fell a little too quickly. His lips parted slightly like he wanted to respond, but nothing came out.

The world around them held its breath.

Will’s own heart pounded as he watched Andy’s expression shift—shock, uncertainty, panic, something unspoken flickering behind his wide, glassy eyes.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

And Will—who had known Andy his whole life, who had seen every side of him, who could read him better than anyone—waited.

Waited, even as Andy’s hands trembled.

Waited, even as Andy’s face flushed.

Waited, because deep down, he knew.

Andy had wanted to.

But Andy was afraid.

And that was okay.

Will let a small smile tug at his lips, warm and reassuring. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You don’t have to—”

“Yes.”

The word was barely more than a breath, so soft Will almost didn’t hear it.

But he did.

Andy looked up at him, eyes wide, heart racing, expression raw with something terrifyingly real. His voice was barely steady as he said it again.

“Yes, I—I wanted to.”

And just like that, something shifted between them.

Something irreversible.

Something true.

Andy felt his entire world tilt.

His heart, already fragile and fluttering, flipped over itself at Will’s words.

"Good," Will had said, voice quiet but steady, "because I really want to kiss you."

Andy barely breathed.

Will wanted to kiss him.

Will—his best friend, the one who had always been there, the boy he had climbed trees with, scraped knees with, stayed up late watching dumb movies with—wanted to kiss him.

Andy’s head spun. His fingers clenched into the fabric of his dress, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

This wasn’t just happening in his head. This wasn’t something he had imagined in a dream, something he would wake up from, heart pounding, face burning.

This was real.

Will was right there, close enough that Andy could see every little detail—the way his brown eyes flickered with something uncertain but sure, the way his breath was just a little uneven, the way his lips parted ever so slightly as he waited, as if giving Andy the space to back away if he wanted to.

But Andy didn’t want to.

He wanted—

God, he wanted.

His entire body felt weightless, like he could float away at any second, like nothing else in the world existed except this.

“Will,” Andy whispered, his voice barely there.

Will leaned in just slightly, his fingers twitching at his sides, as if resisting the urge to reach out.

“Yeah?”

Andy swallowed hard, his pulse thundering. “Are you gonna—”

“Yeah,” Will murmured. “I am.”

Andy barely had time to take a breath before Will moved.

And everything stopped.

3/3

Andy barely had time to process what was happening before it happened.

Will leaned in, closing the space between them, and just as Andy’s breath hitched—just as his mind spun in dizzy disbelief—he gasped, the words slipping from his lips before he could stop them.

“Oh, God—”

And then—

Will’s lips met his.

Soft. Warm. Certain.

Andy swore his heart stopped.

The world around them melted away—no more music drifting from the ballroom, no more distant laughter, no more cool evening air. There was only the gentle press of Will’s mouth against his, only the feeling of something impossibly right settling deep in Andy’s chest.

Will wasn’t hurried, wasn’t forceful. His lips moved against Andy’s with a careful slowness, like he was savoring it, like he was memorizing the feeling of it.

Andy—who had never once thought about kissing his best friend before tonight, who had never imagined it, never dared—now felt like he could never imagine not kissing him.

His fingers, still trembling, reached up hesitantly, barely gripping the front of Will’s jacket, as if afraid this was all some kind of fragile dream that would break apart if he moved too suddenly.

But Will wasn’t breaking apart.

He was here.

Kissing him.

Kissing Andy.

And Andy—helpless, overwhelmed, wanting—kissed him back.

It was nothing like he had imagined a first kiss would be.

It wasn’t practiced or perfect.

It was soft. It was uncertain. It was everything.

Andy could feel Will’s heartbeat against him, could feel the warmth of his breath, could feel the slight nervous hesitance in the way Will lingered, as if making sure Andy wanted this, as if he was waiting for Andy to pull away.

But Andy didn’t pull away.

Andy melted.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, through the rush of emotions and the impossible realization that this was real, Andy thought—

Oh.

Oh.

So this is what it feels like.

The kiss felt like it lasted forever.

Soft. Tender. Gentle.

Neither of them rushed. Neither of them pulled away too soon. It was as if time itself had stretched to accommodate this moment, to give them the space to understand what was happening, to feel it fully.

Will’s lips lingered just long enough that Andy thought—maybe he doesn’t want this to end either.

But eventually, slowly, carefully, Will pulled back, just enough to look at him.

Andy’s head spun.

His breath was shaky, his lips tingling, his entire body feeling weightless.

He didn’t let go of Will’s jacket. And Will didn’t let go of his arms.

They stayed close, still caught in the space between what had just happened and what came next.

Andy’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to process it, to make sense of what he was feeling.

And then, before he could stop himself, the words slipped out, raw and honest.

“You were my first kiss, Will.”

Will blinked.

Andy felt his face burn as he realized what he’d just admitted. His first kiss.

Not just his first kiss with Will.

His first kiss ever.

He swallowed, his voice softer now. “I—I mean, I’ve never—”

Will’s eyes flickered with something new—something warm and gentle, something understanding, something fond.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?” Will asked, his voice just as quiet.

Andy shook his head. “No.”

Will let out a small, breathless chuckle, something shy and disbelieving at the same time. His fingers twitched against Andy’s arms.

And then, after a moment, his voice dropped even softer, as if this was some fragile, precious truth between them.

“Well,” Will murmured, tilting his head ever so slightly, “I feel kinda honored then.”

Andy’s heart flipped.

Will was smiling.

Not teasing, not joking—just this small, knowing smile, like the weight of what just happened wasn’t something to be embarrassed about.

Like it was something good.

Andy let out a shaky breath, barely holding back his own smile.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Me too.”

And for a long, perfect moment, they just stood there—still holding onto each other, still figuring it out, but no longer afraid.

For a moment, the air between them felt delicate—like the weight of everything that had just happened could settle too heavily on their shoulders if they weren’t careful.

Andy’s heart was still racing, his skin still tingling, but he could see it—how Will was processing, how the reality of the kiss, of all of this, was washing over him.

And Will wasn’t running. He wasn’t pulling away.

But Andy knew him well enough to see that he was overwhelmed.

And so, with his heart full and his body still light from the magic of it all, Andy did what came naturally—he made it easier.

With a small smirk and a breathless voice, he added, “Just… don’t kiss me like that if I score a goal on Saturday.”

Will blinked.

Then—

Laughter.

Real, warm, genuine laughter burst from Will’s lips, his head tipping back slightly as he grinned. It was such a Will laugh, the kind that made Andy’s chest feel full, the kind that felt like home.

“Oh my god,” Will said between chuckles, shaking his head. “That is your takeaway from this?”

Andy’s smirk widened, his nerves melting into something easier, something them.

“I just think we should establish some ground rules,” Andy teased, his cheeks still flushed but his eyes sparkling now. “We can’t have you getting all emotional about my athletic brilliance.”

Will rolled his eyes but he was still smiling, still standing close, still holding him.

“Oh, trust me,” Will shot back, “if you actually manage to score on Saturday, I’ll be way too busy having a heart attack to kiss you.”

Andy gasped in mock offense. “Wow. Wow. I let you kiss me and this is the kind of disrespect I get?”

Will grinned, nudging him playfully but still not letting go. “I’m just saying, miracles happen once in a lifetime.”

Andy scoffed, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

And just like that, the weight that had been threatening to settle between them lifted.

The moment was still there—still huge, still important—but it didn’t feel heavy anymore.

It felt good.

It felt right.

It felt like them.

And as the laughter faded into something quieter, something softer, Andy looked at Will and realized—

He wasn’t afraid anymore.

Andy didn’t think.

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess, didn’t feel the need to overanalyze.

Because now, it felt natural.

So he leaned in and kissed Will again.

Quick. Light. Loving.

Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Will barely had time to react before Andy was pulling back, smiling as if this—as if they—had always been this way.

Will blinked, dazed, his lips still slightly parted, but then—he smiled too.

And just like that, the world felt lighter.

Andy exhaled, shaking his head with a small, breathless laugh. “What a day,” he murmured.

Will chuckled. “Yeah. No kidding.”

For a moment, they just stood there, side by side, soaking in everything—the weight of the evening, the strangeness, the wonder of it all.

Then Andy sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Pity we can’t go back to the party,” he said, his voice playful but wistful. “I was looking forward to more dancing.”

Will smirked, tilting his head. “Who says we can’t go back?”

Andy let out a small huff. “Will, look at me. My tears totally messed up my makeup.”

And then—

He paused.

His heart stuttered.

His stomach flipped.

His makeup?

The words had left his mouth so naturally, without thought, without hesitation, like it was just an obvious truth.

He had been thinking about it all day—the makeup, the dress, the way he had looked, the way he had felt. But now, standing here, realizing what he had just said so easily, so casually—

Something inside him shifted.

Will was watching him, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful, his gaze steady, knowing.

Andy swallowed, his mind suddenly whirling with a new kind of realization, a new kind of understanding.

“Oh,” he whispered to himself.

Will tilted his head slightly, waiting. “Andy?”

Andy blinked up at him, his lips parted slightly, his breath uneven.

“I…” He swallowed, not sure how to finish that sentence yet.

Because now—

Now, he wasn’t just figuring things out about them.

He was figuring things out about himself.

Andy’s head spun.

His mind was racing, thoughts colliding into each other, overlapping, unraveling. The realization sat heavy in his chest, yet it wasn’t heavy at all—it was light, floating somewhere inside him, something that had been waiting to be understood.

His makeup.

His dress.

The way he had felt all day.

It had started as a role—his sister’s bridesmaid, a bit of fun, a chance to play along. But it had become something else, something he hadn’t expected, something he wasn’t quite ready to put into words yet.

He wasn’t just wearing a dress.

He wasn’t just playing a part.

He liked this.

The way he looked. The way he felt.

And that thought—this quiet, uncertain realization—made his heart pound harder than the kiss had.

Andy felt a soft touch on his arm, grounding him. He blinked up, startled, as Will’s fingers brushed against his skin in a gentle, soothing motion.

“Hey,” Will murmured, his voice warm. “Wait here.”

Andy blinked. “What?”

Will gave him a reassuring smile, his thumb running over Andy’s arm one last time before stepping back. “Just trust me, okay?”

Andy opened his mouth to protest—where are you going?—but before he could, Will had already turned and disappeared back inside the ballroom.