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It was obvious that he'd never get what he wanted. His love was unrequited. Wille was his best friend . Simon couldn't even chance ruining their friendship; it would probably kill him. He had first realized he was probably not the straightest when he was little. Likely when he met little five year old Wille on the kindergarten playground, who was an endearing clumsy mess then as much as he is now. It wasn’t until much later when Simon discovered what it all meant. When puberty hit around age thirteen, it became crystal clear. Simon was gay. Simon was attracted to his best friend. Simon loved his best friend and not strictly in a platonic way. But there was one major problem: Wille was straight.
Or asexual. Honestly, Simon wasn't sure. The normal default was (annoyingly) heterosexual. Yet, Wille didn't date. Simon is pretty sure he doesn't even realize he's kind of flirting sometimes, but he sort of does it with anyone. So maybe, Wille isn't as straight as he thinks? Shaking his head, Simon pushes any thoughts about Wille's sexuality out of his head because it's never going to happen.
Eventually, he felt comfortable enough with coming out to his friends and family. It took a long time, but he finally felt good in his own skin; finally understood his feelings, his body. He wasn’t worried about how his family would react or Rosh or Ayub. It was Wille who he was worried about. He knew Wilhelm’s family wasn’t the most accepting when it came to different ways of life. Simon was pretty confident Wille might be a little awkward for a bit, but otherwise be perfectly fine having a gay best friend. And yet, there was a little bit of doubt.
When Wille hadn’t said anything after everyone else had, Simon had been terrified. Had worried that he’d just lost the best person in the world. But Wille stayed. If anything they had gotten closer after they both figured out that nothing had actually changed. Wille was actually a little annoying about being his “wingman”. But Simon was probably sure that Wille would have been like that even if Simon were straight, so it didn’t really bother him. Except for the fact that the boy he was in love with kept trying to set him up on dates.
So, when Walter asked him out, Simon said yes. What’s a better way to get over your best friend than to date someone else? A week and a half goes by before he realized he hadn’t told Wille. Had decidedly not told him. And he wasn’t sure why. When Wille stood in his bedroom doorway staring at Walter and him. Suddenly, he regretted not telling Wille as he saw the emotions play out of his face. Confusion, sadness, hurt and a few others that Simon couldn’t place. It had been a strained day to say the least.
But the boys persevere. As they always do. As they always will.
Simon is kind of excited (but also a little jealous if he’s being truly honest, which he's not so nevermind) when Wille starts dating Felice. They’re cute together. Though, it seems like their relationship hasn’t changed aside from holding hands every now and then. He never sees them kiss.
Walter and Simon decide to have a mutual breakup shortly after Wille and Felice get together. It was fun. Simon had his first kiss, first makeout session. But they both decided it wasn’t going anywhere. Walter had told Simon he started having feelings for someone else and Simon wasn’t heartbroken. He tried not to think about it too much. About the fact that his heart was already held by someone else.
“Hey.”
He jumps at his best friend’s voice in his ear. “Jesus, Wille! The fuck was that for?”
“Sorry? It’s not my fault you were spacing out.” They fall into step with each other, walking in silence for a few minutes. “Felice and I broke up.”
“Oh.” Simon wasn’t sure how to feel about this.
“We’re better as friends anyway. Dating each other just felt forced,” he explains. “Like everyone expected it, so that’s basically the only reason we got together in the first place, so…”
“So, that’s what your parents expected is what you’re really saying,” Simon laughs a little awkwardly. Kristina has always wanted what’s “best” for Wilhelm even when what’s “best” isn’t even remotely what the other boy wants. Wille just gives him a pointed look.
It was hard after that to read into his best friend’s actions. They were little things; lingering glances when he thought Simon couldn’t see him or touches that lasted longer than even their decade long friendship permitted. Those little things make Simon question everything. Is he making things up? He has to be. Right? Yes. Definitely.
Soon, Simon forgets about the idea that Wille might, but probably definitely doesn’t have feelings for him. For a couple weeks, he only sees Wille at school. (“My grandparents are in town again,” Wille had said with a roll of his eyes.) He spends his days hanging out with Sara or Rosh and Ayub. They keep his mind busy, making him forget about how Wille makes butterflies erupt in his stomach or on the now rare occasion that he stays the night, Simon will watch him sleep because he’s too cute with his lips slightly parted and making little snoring sounds. He forgets how endearing his clumsiness is, or how he wishes it was his hand that could run through Wille’s hair instead of the boys’ own.
The winter school dance is nearing, Wille and Simon stand in the hall outside the cafeteria staring at the poster for said dance. "Are you gonna ask Felice?" Simon nudges their shoulders together, he is pretty sure Wille is going to say no. But sometimes he likes to tease.
"We're just friends, Simme," he exclaims. There is a tiredness in his voice. Apparently, he’s run the Felice and Wille thing into the ground. Oops.
"I just don't know why you two broke up. You were so cute together, but what do I know," he shrugs. Wille just rolls his eyes. "You could date anyone here, I just don't get why you don't have a girlfriend," he comments as they walk towards the buses.
" Anyone ? Really?" He scoffs. "I'm just not interested in dating anyone right now. You know this," he rolls his eyes again.
Does he know that though? Wille hasn’t actually said that before. Actually, now that he thinks about it, Wille hasn’t really been talking much to him at all. They still hang out when Wilhelm doesn’t have family shit to attend, but they haven’t had any deep conversations lately. Though, Wille kind of gets like that sometimes; getting too much in his head. Simon knows the other boy probably suffers from depression and definitely has anxiety.
It wasn’t until he was sitting at the pizzeria with his family, Wille and Erik that he realizes he fucked up again.
The previous day, he had been sitting next to Lukas during study hall and they had got to talking. It was nice. And then Lukas asked him to the dance. Immediately, he said yes. Lukas was a cute dark skinned boy with black eyes and lanky frame, not unlike Wille’s physique, but Lukas wasn’t clumsy; he knew where his body started and ended. How could he not say yes?
But there is a problem.
Once again, he has kept it from Wille until he can’t anymore. Until Wille catches him texting under the table while they eat their pizza, when Wille knows that Simon is lying about it being nobody. Seeing the emotions flash over Wille’s face hurt. Seeing him sink into himself. He feels guilty for not telling his best friend about his dating life. Again.
“Who are you going with, Wille?” Erik asks.
“No one,” he mutters, a frown etched into his brow. He takes another bite, taking his time chewing. Looking like he just wants to disappear.
Sara chimes in, “Felice, Madison and I are going together.”
“Oh, mama, Lukas wanted to get dinner before the dance, is that okay?” He has to ask now before he forgets again. That’s what he and Lukas had been messaging about. About where to go on their dinner date. Another wave of guilt douses over him like a bucket of ice water, especially when he hears the telltale signs of Wille’s anxiety kicking in. The quickened breath next to him makes him feel like shit.
“Of course,” she smiles.
“Excuse me,” Wille murmurs to no one in particular as he gets up and makes his way to the restroom. Simon watches as the other boy bumps his hip into a couple of chairs as he unsteadily makes his way to the far end of the restaurant and disappears into the restroom.
Simon isn’t sure how to read the look on Erik’s face as he watches his brother hide himself in the bathroom for minutes on end. Or how his eyes keep landing on Simon, but quickly flit away when Simon catches him staring. Erik knows something, he’s sure of it, but Simon has no idea what it could possibly be. It’s not like Wille has made any effort to talk to him at all lately. Maybe he shouldn’t feel so guilty.
Ten minutes pass before Erik says, “I’m going to go check on Wille.” Setting his napkin next to his plate, he stands and walks away.
“Simon,” his mother looks at him with that look. The look that says she knows something. He told her about him not telling Wille about Walter, so it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. “You didn’t tell Wille about Lukas, did you.” It’s not a question. It’s almost accusatory. That’s fine. He deserves that. “Oh Dios mío.”
“Why didn’t you tell Wille? He’s your best friend. You tell him everything before you even tell me,” Sara adds her two cents. And she’s right. Sara is usually second know about the goings on in the mind of Simon, but for some reason, not with matters of the heart.
“Can we not talk about this anymore? They’re coming back,” he points out. Linda gives him a stern look.
Wille looks like shit, with red rimmed eyes and the look of exhaustion coating his features. A panic attack then. It wouldn’t be the first time Simon saw his best friend like that. Though, usually it’s his parents that cause the attacks and not Simon.
The brothers just sit back down. Wille pretends to eat the rest of his pizza slice, but Simon can see that he’s just ripping it apart, separating the veggies into piles. Pointedly not looking at anyone or anything besides his plate. No one says anything. Everyone just goes about the rest of the meal and ignores the elephant in the room. Simon ignores the elephant in the room because what is he supposed to do? The other boy doesn’t like talking right after his panic attacks, so it’s not like talking right now would help anyway, but it still feels weird to just completely ignore Wille for the rest of the meal.
The car ride back to their house is quiet. Linda and Erik talk some with Sara piping in every now and then. She leans forward from the middle seat so she doesn’t have to talk as loud. Simon glances over at Wille when she does and he looks tired and hurt. The boy has his arms wrapped around his body with his forehead rolling against the window when the car hits a pothole.
Simon wishes they could go back to when they were younger; when feelings weren’t so complicated. When they could just be Simon and Wille and nothing more. Just best friends who hung out all the time; who played all weekend and slept in the same bed with naught a worry. When hugging and cuddling were easy and comfortable. When attraction and sexual desires were never a thought. He misses those days. Misses not knowing that he loves his best friend more than life itself, that he just has to wake up in the morning and will see Wille at school and they’ll take the bus home to his house and hang out all day without a care in the world.
But now… Now he lays in his bed and hopes he can forget enough about his feelings, about the friendship that he feels like he’s losing, before the dance on Friday. He wants to have fun, to dance and be free, if only for a night.
It manages to be easy to forget about his feelings for his best friend. Wille seems to be avoiding Simon. Wilhelm’s dodgy behavior does sit at the back of Simon’s mind and he worries. Yet, it only lasts until Lukas slips his hand into his own and his mind goes to infinite dark eyes along with warm calloused hands. Not to mention, wet, soft lips.
Friday finally arrives and Lukas picks him up for dinner. They go to a hole-in-the-wall pasta place that is absolutely amazing. Lukas plays footsie with him under the table. Mocktails are ordered and they have such a nice time that they end up being late to the dance. Neither of them care. Especially when they park in the school parking lot and make out for ten minutes.
The boys walk into the gym hand in hand. He sees Sara and Felice dancing near the edge of the crowd. It takes a few minutes for him to notice that Wille is there dancing with them as well. Wille looks like he’s having a good time, his face looks relaxed, a smile on his lips as he laughs at the girls doing stupid dance moves from the 80s.
They all dance together for a while until the music calms down and Wille excuses himself, saying something about water. Lukas pulls Simon in close, bodies flush from hip to chest, Lukas’s hands wander and Simon feels like he’s going crazy. Hands find his ass and pull him even closer and suddenly hormones take control. Their lips move together seamlessly, tongues delve deep as their bodies move together in the sea of dancing students.
Simon knows this is dangerous. He’s turned on. He can feel Lukas being turned on. He knows that dances are a normal event for people to hook up. That’s why when a song he actually knows comes bumping through the speakers, he breaks apart from his date to put just a bit of space between them.
“I love this song!” he yells and starts jumping with the girls. Lukas looks a little wrecked and disappointed, but he pulls through and starts jumping with their group.
He has no idea how much time passes before he realizes that Wille never returned from his water break. “Where’s Wille?” he asks Felice when they all take a break.
“He went home, he wasn’t feeling good.” She waves her phone at him showing the group chat message, making him pull his own phone out and seeing the same text on his screen. For some reason, it doesn’t feel right.
Simon knows Wille. Or at least he did. And him just leaving without actually saying anything feels weird, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it when Lukas is pulling him back to the dancefloor. He once again gets lost in the beat, in the motion and feel of Lukas’s hips against his and he starts feeling a bit euphoric. He had no idea that dancing like this could be such a turn on.
Lukas’s hands on Simon’s hips pull his ass back into Lukas and he nearly moans at the feeling. His date is really turned on. He feels sinful open mouth kisses on his neck causing Simon to involuntarily tilt his head to the side to give more access. It’s indecent.
“Simon! Get a fucking room!” Sara yells at him and covers her eyes.
That’s when he takes stock of where he is and what he’s doing. He tries to pull away, but Lukas has a firm grip. “I need a break!” Simon basically pushes the boy off of him and jogs outside where he can actually breathe and think about what the fuck is happening.
From inside, he can hear the DJ telling everyone that there’s only two songs left.
“Simon?”
He turns around and finds Lukas standing there. “Sorry about running out.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry I let my body do the talking,” Lukas chuckles uncomfortably, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Simon smiles and they go back in for the last dance of the evening ignoring the buzzing of his phone.
Linda takes him and Sara home. Simon showers because he’s ridiculously sweaty from dancing and basically dry humping his date for hours. After throwing on a fresh pair of boxers and laying down on his bed does he finally look at his phone. There are some Instagram notifications which he swipes away along with his email, it’s all junk anyway. It’s the missed call and voicemail that catch his attention.
Wille never calls. Always preferring to text. He’s worried now as he sits up on the edge of his bed and listens to Wille’s voice.
“ Simon? It’s so bright out, but it’s night, I know that much .” He pauses for quite a while. Simon’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest. Finally, Wille keeps talking, but this time with more of a whisper that’s almost hard to make out, “ I found it out. Everything is fake. Everything in the world is fake. It’s like, you know ,” there’s a pause where Simon holds his breath, waiting, “ the grass on the football field isn’t even grass. It's… it’s plastic! ” His voice has picked up in volume again. “ All the people are fake. They’re made out of metal. But I like you. And that is not fake .”
And that’s it. He pulls the phone away from his ear to make sure. The playback of the visual voicemail is at the end. He listens again to be sure that Wille is actually at the football field. He calls Wille and hopes he answers. It rings and rings and then voicemail. He tries again, Simon thinks it’s going to go to voicemail again, but the call is answered and all Simon can hear is harsh slow breaths.
"Wille?!” Nothing. “Wille? Are you okay?" Simon is frantic. "Wille, please say something!"
" I …" Simon nearly sighs out of relief hearing his friend's voice even if it sounds rough and barely there.
"Where are you?" After hesitating, Simon continues, "Are you still on the football field?"
" I… hm ," Wille manages to push out.
"Wille, don't move. Stay there!"
Quickly, he pulls on clothes, not caring if they’re clean or not before rushing to the living room where his mamá is quietly watching the late night news.
“Mamá,” Simon feels like he’s going crazy as adrenaline buzzes through his veins.
Linda looks at him with a small smile before her expression turns into one of concern.
“It’s Wille. He’s in trouble.” He explains everything and then she’s rushing to put on her shoes and hollering at Sara telling her that they’ll be right back. She grabs her purse and her keys while Simon grabs the throw blanket off the back of the couch and they’re on their way. Neither son, nor mother say anything. Both know that if they do manage to find Wille, that he’ll be high. Both know what the other is already thinking about. Though, both know Wille is nothing like Micke. They know Wille isn’t violent. Wille is just a broken boy lost in his own depressive thoughts and left alone too often.
The lights of the sports field finally come into view and Simon immediately shoves his face against the window, searching. Eyes frantically darting around looking for a body. Linda parks when Simon breathes out Wille’s name and throws open the door before the car comes to a complete stop.
He’s running across the frosty astroturf towards the dark figure laying on its face at centerfield. His lungs hurt from the chill air, but he can’t think about that right now. Wille needs him.
“Wille!” Simon skids to a halt, steps getting smaller as he tries to quickly slow down as he falls to his knees by his best friend. “Wille!?” He grabs the boy's shoulders, turning him over and pulling him up. He’s freezing. Thankfully, Wille has enough motor function to stay seated as Simon pulls open his eyelids.
“Simme?” Wille acts surprised to see Simon. Maybe even a little happy, but it’s short lived and he’s suddenly muttering “no” over and over again. Simon hates the panic in his voice.
“Wille, you’re okay. I’m here,” Simon tries to reassure him, or maybe Simon is trying to reassure himself. “What did you take?” He knows Wille has gotten high before and that it only ever has happened when he was feeling really low or stressed. But he had never seen Wille like this before and Wilhelm knows about Simon’s father and his addictions. Yet, Simon can’t seem to blame Wille for ending up like this.
Simon is the constant in Wille’s life and lately, he hasn’t been very constant. Guilt rolls through him. If he had just been paying attention to his friend, this wouldn’t have happened. Wille wouldn’t be high in the middle of the night, alone on the football field covered in frost.
“I’m sorry,” Wilhelm repeats over and over as he tries to grip at Simon, his hands too numb to properly hold on. “I’m sorry,” he cries.
“Shh,” Simon attempts to calm the boy in his arms as he pulls him into his chest. He manages to reach the blanket he temporarily forgot about and throws it around Wille’s trembling shoulders. Simon watches as confusion and realization flit over his friend’s face before pulling the corner of the fabric to his face and inhaling.
“Wille,” Simon says, worry leaking into his words. Wilhelm looks up at him then, a frown creased between his brows. His hand lifts up to try and touch Simon’s face.
“You’re so beautiful,” Wille slurs. Simon immediately pulls away. The boy knows he doesn’t like his face being touched, but he’s too high to remember. He can’t even appreciate the compliment because he doesn’t know how real it is. Now that he thinks about it, he’s not sure how real the words in his voicemail were. Though, deep in his heart, he knows they’re real, but he can’t let himself hope.
Wille pushes out of Simon’s hold, attempting to stand and failing with little grace as he mutters, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Let’s go home, Wille. We need to get you warm and dried off.” Simon looks towards his mamá standing by the car, waiting. He waves his arm for her to come to them. Immediately, she’s jogging over. “Come on,” he pleads and he’s not sure if it’s to Wilhelm or his mother. All he wants is for this night to be over.
“Let’s get you home, mi amor,” Linda says as she wraps an arm around Wille’s waist. Simon comes in on his other and pulls an arm over his shoulders. Wille drops his head in what looks like defeat. It’s a difficult trek to get Wille back to the car as he stumbles, almost pulling them down with him. Somehow, they manage to get ragdoll Wilhelm buckled into the back seat. The drive home is quiet, the radio is off and all Simon can hear is the uneven breathing coming from behind him.
Simon almost sat in the back with Wille, but with too many conflicting feelings in his heart and in his mind he decided to sit up front. Linda keeps glancing at Simon and in the rearview mirror at her second son. She’s worried; she knows of Wille’s destructive behaviors. Knows that he drinks sometimes, has taken drugs and gotten high before, but she’s never seen it, like Simon. Him breaking that wall makes this whole situation even worse. Like Wilhelm is finally once and for all falling apart more than he can handle on his own. Both Linda and Simon know that his parents won’t help and that Erik can’t help most of the time because he’s at university.
Wilhelm was born into a wealthy family with everything he could ever want except for the things that he really needs. Simon was born into a low income family with hand-me-downs and secondhand toys, but he had what he needed: the love and support of a loving parent.
Both Linda and Simon help Wille, who is nearly asleep, into the house and up the stairs into Simon’s room. She leaves after helping Simon get the wet clothes off of the trembling boy's body and into a pair of Simon’s oversized sweats.
He directs Wille to the bed and lays him down. The boy mutters some things that sound like “fake” and “sorry” and “disappointed”. Simon just tells him everything will be all right - even though he doesn't know if that's true - as he curls around the broken boy in his bed, holding him tight as sleep claims him.
It takes much longer for Simon to get to sleep.
For having such a rough time getting to sleep, Simon actually sleeps the best he has in a long time. He forgot what it was like to fall asleep cuddled up next to a body. Specifically, Wille’s body. Eventually, he pries himself out of Wille’s clutches and goes to get some food. Sara and Linda are already awake seeing as it’s nearly noon.
“Buenos días, mi amor. How is Wille?” his mamá asks over her coffee.
With a shrug, he replies, “He’s still asleep.” He shuffles around the kitchen to pour himself a bowl of cereal before joining Linda at the table. They don’t talk much, both unsure of how to handle the situation. Simon hadn’t told her the part of the voicemail where Wille confessed his feelings. His knee bounces anxiously under the table as he spoons his breakfast into his mouth. He doesn’t really taste it, too lost in thought to focus on anything physical.
After putting his bowl in the sink, he makes his way back upstairs to his room. He stands in the doorway for a bit and just looks at the boy in his bed. Simon loves that boy. Eventually, he actually goes back to bed after closing the door. Sitting with his back to the wall, he manages to get Wille’s head on his lap without the other waking. There are some discontent sounds, but as soon as Simon combs his fingers through Wille’s matted hair, the boy calms and nuzzles close.
Simon’s heart feels so full that it might burst. Knowing that it’s his touch that causes this boy to calm and feel content makes him happy. But it also makes his heart splinter a bit, unsure of what the outcome of all of this will be.
Wilhelm groans after a while and turns his head away from the light coming in through the window. Simon continues to drag his fingers through Wille’s hair for another minute before taking a break causing Wille to whine. A small chuckle makes it out of his lips. The sudden noise seems to fully awaken Wilhelm and he sits up too quickly, probably making him dizzy and he sways where he sits as a hand quickly covers his eyes.
"Wille?"
For several minutes, the boy just sits there trying to keep his breath steady with his eyes covered. Like he’s afraid of coming back to reality.
"Wille?” He pauses, “Do you remember what happened last night?"
Wille’s hand immediately is brought to his mouth, uncovering his eyes, but they stay averted as he fidgets with the blankets.
"It's okay, Wille." All the other can do to reply is shake his head. Simon moves to sit next to Wille, leaning forward to try and look at his face, but he just turns his face away. Simon sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder, "I didn't know, Wille. Why didn't you tell me?" His voice is soft and encouraging, he watches as Wille's eyes fill with tears, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.
Simon's arm slides around Wille's waist and rests his head on his shoulder. He can't help but lean into Simon's warmth; a moth to a flame. "It doesn't matter," Wille whispers, standing up and keeping his body turned away from Simon, his own arms wrapping around himself. Those words hurt. His own eyes start burning now, prickling with tears that he won’t let fall.
"Why wouldn't it matter?" he asks, his voice thick.
There’s silence for several minutes. Just when Simon thinks Wille isn’t going to answer, he says, "How would this not ruin our friendship?" His fingers clench into the fabric of the jumper he's wearing. Wilhelm sighs, "I don't even know what I am."
“It’s okay to not know,” Simon reassures him.
"It still doesn't matter. You could never feel the same about me anyway," Wilhelm whispers. Simon almost doesn’t catch it. It makes his heart grow and break at the same time. The fact that Wille thinks himself so below Simon is a tragedy.
"Fucking hell, Wille," Simon groans and goes to face his best friend, grabs his face and presses their lips together. Wille freezes. Completely and utterly frozen. Simon pulls away, looking him in the eye, hands still on his cheeks. Their eyes are locked and the only thing running through Simon’s head is WilleWilleWille . He pulls Wille down to him to rest their foreheads together. "I like you too, Wille."
"What?" Wilhelm obviously can’t believe what he just heard as he looks back at him with wide eyes and utter shock written all over his face. Simon thinks it’s cute. The corner of Simon’s lips pull up into a shy smile.
Simon brushes Wille’s messy bangs out of his face, "I like you. Like a lot. And I never thought you were anything but straight. And, fuck, Wille. I would have much rather made out with you last night," he finishes with the same shy smile.
Next thing Simon knows is he’s being smothered in a bear hug. He eagerly returns it and buries his face into Wille’s neck, inhaling the boy’s scent that reminds him of home.
"Simme?" he asks into Simon's hair.
"Hm," he answers, his hands stroking against Wille's back.
"What about Lukas?"
The brunette pulls back to look Wilhelm in the eye. "I don't think it's going to work with Lukas," he says with a smirk.
"You don't like him?" Simon shrugs in answer. "But last night…"
Simon puts a hand over his mouth to silence him; tired of talking about Lukas when he has Wilhelm here. "It was fun, but it didn't mean anything. I already said I would have preferred kissing you at the dance."
Wilhelm watches him, eyes roaming all over his face like he’s looking for something. Soon, he lets out a soft sigh and brings their foreheads to rest together again. Their noses brush against each other and Simon feels whole. This is everything he’s ever wanted. Wille in his arms, his lips so close as they share nose nuzzles. It’s near perfect. And then, Wille tilts his chin, closing the last bit of space between their lips and oh , now it’s perfect. Every fiber in his body comes alive, hands are gripping the back of Simon's shirt, pulling the other closer, bodies nearly flush. Gently, Simon coaxes Wille’s mouth open and slides his tongue into his warm waiting mouth and this is the best kiss Simon has ever had. Lips moving effortlessly together, like they have been doing this forever. Wille lets out a small whine. This is heaven. He is sure of it.
They pull apart, but only just, their noses still brushing against one another, they are both breathing heavily. Wilhelm giggles, Simon follows. Their smiles grow as does their laughter. Neither of them can believe this is happening. Simon feels like his heart is full to bursting.
Once their laughter dies down a little, Simon smiles into one more chaste kiss before deciding that they should most definitely talk about this. “So, Wille, my friends best,” he teases, “I know what I want, but what do you want?” His index finger stabs lightly at Wille’s chest. Simon is met with a frustrated groan as Wille drops his head onto Simon’s shoulder. Slender fingers slide through blonde hair, he has decided that he loves the feel of Wille’s hair between his fingers.
“I…” he starts. Talking has never been Wille’s strong suit; Simon knows this well. Especially when talking about his feelings or what he wants. He looks at Simon intensely, trying to convey what he wants, what he feels, but Simon knows this trick, he just raises a brow, waiting. Wille throws his head back with another groan. After a deep breath, he is looking back at Simon. “I want to be,” another breath, “your boyfriend.”
Simon stares at this beautiful boy in front of him as he studies the vulnerable state he’s in and the intensity of his eyes. This beautiful, wonderful boy always seems to surprise Simon. Slowly, a smile creeps onto his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He can see the relief flow through Wilhelm and it just makes him smile more.
“Me too,” Simon whispers. Simon’s bright smile is mirrored on his boyfriend’s - boyfriend! - face. The giddiness in the room is infectious. Wille’s arms wrap low around Simon’s waist before picking him up and spinning the boy. Laughter fills the air. He’s so happy! All he wants to do is run downstairs and tell his mamá and then snuggle on the couch and watch a movie, sharing some kisses every now and then.
As soon as Simon’s feet are back on the floor, he says, “I think we should tell Mamá."
Wille’s eyes go wide as saucers. “But I’m not… I’m not,” he stutters and steps back from Simon. Both of Wille’s hands run through his hair. “Why can’t we keep it secret for now? I’m not ready. I’m not… fuck.” His hand is at his chest rubbing roughly. Simon can see the signs of a panic attack coming on, but he’s not feeling super sympathetic at this point. This is not the response he was expecting. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. Wilhelm wants to keep him a secret? He’s not willing to tell the woman who has been like a second mother to him? Simon should have known this was too good to be true.
Simon sits down on the edge of his bed, “I can’t keep this from her. We can’t keep this from her. And fuck, Wille! That’s not fair to me!” He stands again, frustrated, arms flinging out to the side in his exasperation. “I don’t want to be a secret, Wilhelm. I’ll just pretend none of this happened and we can just be how we were before until you figure out what you want.” His arms cross over his chest, tries to keep his face stoic, eyes looking anywhere but at Wilhelm.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Wilhelm changing his clothes and hear his hurried breathing. He hates that he wants to comfort the other in this moment. This moment where Wille has asked a terrible thing of Simon. When Wille’s hands quickly brush across his cheeks, Simon has to look away. He bites his lip hard so he can focus on that to keep his own tears at bay.
Wilhelm is gone before the first tears slip past his lashes, he hears his steps thunder down the stairs and the front door open and close loudly before he lets himself fully breakdown.
His hands cover his face, pressing hard against his skin to keep himself quiet. But it’s useless because Linda is there moments later asking what happened and then what’s wrong when she sees Simon trying to keep himself together. She takes him into her arms and he cries out like a baby when his face hits her shoulder.
Everything hurts. It doesn’t make sense. Why does his arm hurt when his heart is breaking? His mamá holds him, rocks him for what feels like days. Eventually, he gets so tired that she lays him down and he sleeps. The rest of the weekend is spent mostly in his bed that now smells like the boyfriend he had for two seconds. Halfway through Sunday, he gets mad and strips his bed and throws the sheets and blankets into the wash.
Linda tries to get him to talk, but he just can’t. Not yet. It’s too fresh. Too raw. If he thinks about it for more than thirty seconds, his eyes burn with new tears.
Over the next week, Simon pretends that he’s not heartbroken. Instead, he pretends that he has feelings for Lukas. That Lukas is actually who he wants. The boy is sweet and kind and hot and kisses him to within an inch of his life. And yet, it’s not enough. But he pretends because it’s better than feeling empty. It’s better than pining for something he can’t have.
He knows it's not fair to Lukas. He knows . But he's the only thing holding Simon together at the moment.
So, he holds hands with Lukas; he avoids his best friend that he isn’t even sure is his best friend anymore. He tries not to notice the dark color under Wilhelm’s eyes when they do have to interact (they share a few classes after all), he tries not to notice when Wilhelm eats alone at lunch and that he doesn’t actually eat, but instead just pushes his food around. He will see Felice try to talk to Wille, but he will flee as soon as he sees her.
Simon knows Wilhelm is alone. Knows that he is probably feeling desperately lonely and it hurts every time to see the emptiness whenever their eyes actually meet. Every time Simon thinks about giving the boy a hug, he remembers that Wilhelm wanted to make him a secret and that urge is gone.
The following weekend after the dance, Simon finds himself at Ayub’s with Rosh. They play video games, watch movies, eat junk food. His friends ask what’s wrong, but he can’t tell them without outing Wille. The more he thinks about it like that, the more he thinks that maybe he was a little too harsh on the boy. It can’t possibly be easy for Wilhelm to be queer with the parents he has. Ludvig is more or less absent and Kristina is a bitch on her good days. Wilhelm only has Erik for any kind of support. Though, he should know that Linda is safe. She’ll still love him and care for him as she always has; always will because that’s who she is.
But Simon should know that that’s not how coming out works. Another reason why he’s plagued with guilt. He just feels kind of shitty, but hanging out with his friends helps.
On his way home on Sunday, Simon feels lighter. His thoughts aren’t as stormy and he feels like he might be able to forgive Wilhelm soon. Maybe. Probably.
As he pushes open the front door, a big gust of wind nearly knocks him over the threshold. He quickly shuts out the cold and kicks off his shoes and hangs up his coat. He makes his way to the dining room, but as soon as he sees Wilhelm, he freezes, but quickly recovers and goes to hug his mother and ignores the other boy as the unresolved anger flares up again. “Hola, mamá.”
She returns the sentiment, then asks, “How is Ayub?”
“Just fine.”
“Good. Did you eat lunch already? If not, there’s still sandwich makings out,” she says before taking another bite of her own sandwich. He hasn’t eaten, but says that he has in order to avoid more awkwardness with Wilhelm in the room. The blonde won’t even look at him. It makes Simon roll his eyes. “Are you going to say hi to Wille, Simon?” She raises her brow at him, she obviously doesn’t know what’s going on between them.
“Hi, Wilhelm,” Simon says robotically, to make his mother happy.
“Wilhelm?” Linda seems taken aback by the way Simon was acting.
“Yes, mamá, that’s his name,” he blurts out before storming upstairs to his room, unable to stay another moment in that space.
His door slams shut and he leans back against it as he attempts to get his breathing back under control. Why is he even here? Padding over to his bed, he grabs his pillow and presses it to his face and screams until he can’t breathe. Simon hates this. Hates what their friendship has become. Hates that they both have feelings for one another, but they can’t be together because one of them is unwilling to come out.
“Fuck,” Simon grits out, fingers pulling at the roots of his hair. He has to keep reminding himself that not everyone feels safe coming out. Even to people who care. Tears slide down his cheeks as he collapses on his bed. Exhausted, he falls into an uneasy nap.
The buzzing of his phone is what wakes him up a couple of hours later. It’s just a message from Ayub telling him about a new high score he got. Simon tucks his phone back under his pillow after sending a congratulations. He feels numb, but not numb enough to not notice the ache behind his eyes. Squeezing his eyes shut doesn’t help to relieve the pain, the action only releases a few leftover tears.
While he’s staring at the ceiling, he hears a quiet knock at his door. Simon assumes it’s his mamá so he gets up and opens the door. He’s shocked to find Wilhelm on the other side, obviously hurting and trying to keep it together.
"I'm sorry," Wille nearly sobs. "I'm sorry I was scared. I'm sorry I called you and had you come find me like that. I'm sorry I ruined everything." His bottom lip quivers, "I'm sorry I always ruin everything."
Simon doesn’t know what to say, how to respond. All he knows is that Wilhelm quickly becomes blurry behind the fresh tears forming in his eyes. He takes too long. He misses his chance to say anything because Wilhelm thinks he’s not going to answer and once again Wilhelm is nearly tripping down the stairs in his haste to get away. There’s a quiet wavering farewell to Linda and then the door opens and shuts.
He doesn’t know how long he stands there in the doorway to his bedroom, staring blankly at the wall across the hall as tears slowly overflow down his face.
Wilhelm doesn’t ruin everything. Simon hates that Wille thinks that. And yet, Simon knows he hasn’t done anything to prove Wilhelm wrong in a long time. He has to fix this. If he doesn’t, he’s sure Wille will self-destruct. They need to talk. And he needs to break up with Lukas.
Monday finally arrives, he and Lukas have an amiable break up. They part ways as friends. It feels good. Simon feels good. Things are going okay.
Except, Wille doesn’t show up for school. Okay. That’s fine. It wouldn’t be the first time his friend has skipped school because of his mental health, which Simon knows is in the dumps right now. Simon texts and asks if he’s okay; if he’s sick, if he needs anything. No reply. Wille doesn’t even read the messages. Tuesday comes and Wilhelm doesn’t. Wilhelm is MIA. Wilhelm is unresponsive to all messages from everyone Simon asks to text Wille. Simon starts calling between classes. Straight to voicemail. Every. Time. He’ll wait one more day and hope it’s not too late.
Simon anxiously waits for the end of the school day on Wednesday. As soon as the final bell rings, Simon is making his way to the bus. He gets off near Wilhelm’s house. It’s been a while since he has been there, so no one can blame him for getting a little turned around. Especially when most of the houses look the same.
Finally, he stumbles up the correct set of front steps and knocks on the door, hoping neither of Wille’s parents are home. What feels like hours pass, but is mere seconds before Simon knocks again and calls out, “Wille!” He’s fucking worried. He’s going insane not knowing if Wille is okay or not. Thankfully, he doesn’t have long to wait as the door swings open just as he’s about to knock again.
Wilhelm is standing in the foyer in nothing but boxer shorts, Simon is too worried and frustrated to really notice. "What the fuck, Wille?!" he yells as he pushes inside. His hand doesn’t burn when he touches Wille’s arm. Or at least that’s what he tells himself.
"Simme?" His voice sounds weak and a little hoarse.
"I thought you were dead, asshole!" Simon throws his arms in the air, clearly exasperated. Wille just looks confused. The other boy scoffs, "Do you know what day it is?" Wille shakes his head slowly. "It's Wednesday. Wednesday! You haven't been answering your phone, you haven't been at school. No one knew where you were!" There was a slight trembling in Simon's voice, barely noticeable under the obvious anger and frustration. He hopes Wilhelm doesn’t notice.
"I'm fine," Wille squeaks out. Simon gives him his 'don't lie to me' face. A blush of shame graces Wille’s neck and ears. Wilhelm wraps his arms around himself. Simon wants to hold him, but he doesn’t. He can’t .
"Did you get high again? Or just drunk off your ass?" Simon is pacing in the foyer and Wille looks at his own feet, pale against the hardwood. He can’t help but notice how pale Wilhelm is. It worries him even more.
"Just alcohol," he manages to say, but just barely. Simon’s pacing stops as he sighs. Wille glances at him. "I'm sorry, Simon," he sobs, quietly.
"What are you going to do about it?" Simon turns to face him and crosses his arms over his chest. "Sorry isn't enough." Wille starts to shiver in the chilly foyer and once again, Simon is taking care of the other boy. He lightly grabs his arm and guides him into the living room, more or less pushing him down on the couch and throwing a blanket over his mostly bare body. "Why can't you take care of yourself?" he mutters, not caring if Wilhelm hears him.
Simon is standing by the fireplace across from him, looking at the photos on the mantle. There are no real smiles in any of the family portraits. No real smiles in the school portraits of either Wilhelm or Erik. There are no candid shots either. It’s sad.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Wilhelm wrap the blanket around his shoulders.
"I talked to your mom on Saturday," he starts. Simon turns to look at him, an eyebrow slightly raised. His mamá never told Simon why Wilhelm had been there and he never asked. Wille looks down at his fidgeting fingers, then runs a hand through his hair. "I- I told her about me. About how I think I'm queer." He looks up at Simon, who can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.
"You told mamá?" Simon takes a step closer.
Wille nods and looks back at his lap. "I told her about our- our fight. About the football field. About me being jealous of Lukas."
This changes things, Simon thinks, as he sits next to Wille. Maybe not entirely. But hopefully they can be friends again. Simon desperately misses his best friend. Neither of them say anything for a while. Wille bites his thumbnail and closes his eyes. He just looks down at his hands and wrings his fingers together.
"Can we please be friends again?" Simon basically begs after a while. Wille lets out a wet laugh and nods as he looks up at Simon. Sometimes, Simon forgets how beautiful Wille is; his honey brown eyes shine with unshed tears in the afternoon light. "I miss you. It has been so weird not talking to you or seeing you." He takes a deep breath and continues, "And if things turn into something more, then they do. Yeah?" All Wille can do is nod, tears crowding in his eyes. Simon leans over wrapping his best friend in a hug. Wilhelm melts into it.
Simon missed this. Missed Wille. So fucking much.