Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Simon stares at the plaque on the floor directory where SocialFly Digital AB glints back at him in one of the ugliest fonts he’s ever seen. 

The office is located on the eleventh floor of the first of the five Hötorget High-rises that lie directly across from Sergels Torg and form a single file line down the broad street of Sveavägen. They stick out like an eyesore, towering above the rest of the buildings in the area, a gleaming, soulless mockery of glass and metal without any shred of charm or elegance. 

Swallowing tightly he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and bracing himself as he steps into the elevator and mashes the button for the right floor. Just as the doors are closing, a group of harried-looking corporate suits pushes their way in, barely sparing him a glance as they hit nearly every fucking button on the keypad and knock into him, pushing him back to the mirror.

“Excuse you.” He mutters, gripping the handle of his frayed messenger bag. The woman closest to him turns to him sharply, perfectly styled blonde hair framing her attractive face, makeup flawless and heavy. Simon likens it to a kind of war paint when she smiles thinly, looking him over with sharp eyes. He sees her take in his graphic T and plaid button-up, the pins on his bag, and his scuffed converses. 

“Oh excuse me.” She says and then adjusts her leather briefcase, purposely flashing her fancy designer watch as she does so. “Do you know what floor you’re going to?”

He gives her a flat look, “Yes.” 

She smiles again and turns away from him, leaning into the man next to her who laughs a bit when she says something that Simon doesn’t hear.

He takes another deep breath through his nose, leaning back against the wall of the elevator, looking up at the mirror on the ceiling into his reflection. Honestly, he doesn’t blame her for judging him. It’s his first day at this job and he looks like a mess. There are deep circles under his eyes and his hair is messy and un-styled. He’s dressed like a teenager, in some of the only clean clothes he had found at the back of his closet. Simon frowns at his reflection and looks away, gaze slipping back to the buttons as they make their excruciating climb upwards.

Simon knows he should feel some kind of sense of shame at how little it looks like he cares. It’s not like he doesn’t have better clothes, or that he didn’t have time to do his hair. But he hadn’t slept well last night and he’s been dreading this since he had gotten the offer to work here.

It’s fucked to complain about having a job these days. Even if it is an office job. He really shouldn’t. He knows he’s super lucky to have found something so fast, especially when money is tight, but despite the trendy design of SocialFly Headquarters, there is something about an office that just sucks the joy right out of his soul.

He got this job through his connection to Maddie, who works here as a social media marketer. She had assured him that the company was flexible with hours and he could work at his own pace as long as deadlines were met. The benefits weren’t bad either and sure Maddie may have over-exaggerated his background to their hiring manager, but Simon did have some previous experience in a similar position. That is up until he had decided to pursue music full-time. 

The big dream had always been to be a recording artist, to perform live on the stage and write music for a living. It was why he had gone to KMH, why he had moved to Stockholm from his tiny town of less than two thousand. He had worked for a long time in order to realize that dream and finally, he had felt at the point in his career where he could do it full-time. And at first, it went well, it seemed promising and exciting, as though he was just on the cusp of something big. Simon already had a lot of connections in the industry and soon he was releasing digital singles and getting airplay while amassing a dedicated following of listeners.

And then, just as he had booked his first festival, everything had gone to shit. Simon had lost his inspiration for music and hadn’t touched his recording equipment or his keyboard since. Notebooks he once carried around with him to scribble down lyrics whenever inspiration hit now sat stacked and untouched, pushed into his desk drawer. 

It’s as though Simon has lost his connection to music and the more time passes, the more distant his dreams seem, the more empty and directionless he feels. His world had gone from being full of possibility, made of vibrant colors to muted and monotonous. 

So here he is. Joining the ranks of the other washed-up, bitter 20-somethings in the current corporate pipeline trend of social media and digital marketing where dreams come to die.

At some point in his bitter monologue, the elevator hits the eleventh floor and he steps out, turning to the right to see the glass doors and the agency’s sign fixed to the wall. 

Peering inside he sees a trendy-looking, open space, long tables with an abundance of plugs made for communal working spaces, as well as ergonomic desks. There are no cubicles or claustrophobically closed-off sections and the people inside seem to be around his age as well, thankfully not dressed so corporate, but more casual and stylish than he had expected.

The time is counting down and he’s supposed to meet Maddie at 10:30 to get his paperwork and onboarding materials. Looking at his phone, Simon knows he can’t stall any longer, he bites his lip and pushes through the doors, looking around for Maddie’s familiar face.

Some of the people in the office look up curiously and finally, he swallows his awkwardness and asks the woman closest to him where he can find her.

“You must be the new hire, Simon.” She smiles kindly, swiveling around in her chair and calling out in a loud voice across the office, causing everyone to look over in their direction, “Hey Maddie! The new guy is here!”

Maddie pops up from somewhere deeper within the room and grins brightly when she sees him, coming with quick strides over. Her hair is in space buns and she’s wearing butterfly clips in her dark bangs that match the colorful kaftan-like dress she’s wearing. The next thing he notices is that she’s not wearing shoes. 

“Simon! Hi! I’m so glad you’re here!” 

He makes a soft grunt as he feels her arms wrap tightly around him, but hugs her back relaxing a bit at her warm welcome. He definitely feels more comfortable here than in the elevator with those suits. 

“Isn’t it chill we are working together now?” Maddie speaks an odd mix of English and Swedish with a strong accent, but it’s always been part of her charm.

“I know I just saw you like two days ago but how are you?” She squeezes harder before pulling back to look him over.

Maddie and Simon used to go to school together, in the first year of secondary. She had been an international student at the highly esteemed Hillerska, an elite boarding school just outside his hometown of Bjärstad. 

Both Simon and his older sister Sara had transferred to Hillerska from their local school in his first year, but he had left in the middle of his second, while both Maddie and Sara had continued on to graduate there.

But even though they had gone to school together at one point, Simon knows Maddie much better these days because she’s dating one of his best friends.

“Rosh told me you aren’t sleeping so well, and you look super tired, is everything okay?”

“They told you all of that, huh?” He laughs, reminding himself to pester Rosh not to tell their girlfriend everything now that they are working together.

Maddie gives him a look, running her eyes over his face for a moment, “I have some moonstone you can use, it helps promote better sleep by releasing emotional tension, you sleep with it in the bed, I like to keep a piece of lepidolite under my pillow as well.”

“A crystal for every occasion huh.” He smiles a bit tiredly and she shrugs. 

“Well, there’s nothing to lose by trying it in any case.”

“I bet I’ll sleep better once Rosh is out of the apartment.”  Simon teases, “Their shit is everywhere in boxes right now and they are always up at the ass crack of dawn working out or pushing their furniture around or whatever they are doing in their room.” 

“Oh be serious, you’re going to miss them.” Maddie gives him a knowing smile, nudging him with her shoulder.

“Okay maybe. A little. But I can just crash at your place whenever I want to see them again right?”

The dark-haired girl snorts, raising an eyebrow, “Well sure I guess, but just be aware that you never know what you’ll walk in on, we like to get naked in the afternoons and——“

“Oh my god okay, I get it.” Simon finds himself laughing, genuinely for the first time that day, “I’ll make sure to call first then. I’ve already seen enough things to last a lifetime.”

Maddie slips her arm through his, “Good so we are in agreement. Well then let me show you around and introduce you to everyone.”

He follows her through the office as she points out important departments and who is who. Everyone seems friendly enough and he’s already clocked a few more people he suspects are queer, which sets him a little more at ease than he thought it would. He had already known Maddie obviously, but he’s always felt more comfortable with other queer people, especially since his experience in High School had been so shitty. Bjärstad was a small town after all, with small-town “values” and he had often been one of the only queer people in any given space. 

Which of course was less true after moving to Stockholm, which was a very diverse city, but he doesn’t think he will ever stop noticing things like this, 

“Oh this is Wille’s desk, he's our Creative Design Manager but he’s out right now visiting a client.” Maddie points over to a rather messy-looking desk in the back corner of the space. There’s a sweater tossed over the desk chair, which is some weird spacey, ergonomic super chair he’s never seen before.

“Oh, he brought his own chair.” Maddie shrugs when Simon points it out, “That’s just how Wille is.” 

Simon looks over the haphazard papers, the half-empty coffee cup and the random sticky notes stuck to every surface and raises an eyebrow. 

She takes him to his desk, thankfully clean and empty. He’s facing the windows that look out onto Sergels Torg, to the fountain and the glass facade of Kulturhuset as well as the strange vertical tower that seems to rise out of nowhere. It’s some kind of art piece, but Simon has never really paid that much attention to art. All in all he can’t complain about the view even if it is dizzyingly high.

Maddie drops by again and gets him set up in the agency's system before bringing him the paperwork that HR wants him to sign by the end of today. 

“You can take these into Anna when she’s back.” Maddie points to the room across the way, “She’ll be in after lunchtime.”

“Great. Thanks, Maddie.”

“Sure no Problem. There are a few things that you’ll need to do, but for now, I’ll send you some of your client profiles so you can familiarize yourself after you’re done looking over the onboarding materials.” She squeezes his shoulder, “I’m really glad you’re here.” 

He smiles at her, unsure if he can really say the words back. He feels so ungrateful but as he looks around at the desks and computers, the large, round couches, the corporate environment thinly masked by the illusion of individuality and communal space he feels like he's failed.

________

Around 1 pm he realizes his stomach is growling and checks his phone to see how late it’s gotten. Some of the people in the office had actually invited him to eat with them, but he had been so into the onboarding materials and wanted to get through them as soon as possible so he didn't have to stay. Now that he’s finished though, he’s wishing he had taken them up on it, Simon was told he could take lunch anytime between 11 am and 2 pm depending on how he feels so he figures an hour is just enough time to find something down on the street. He gets out of his chair and stretches, grabbing his bag and shooting a message to Maddie that he’s stepping out.   

He’s just stepping away from his desk when he senses someone approaching.

“Simon Eriksson..it’s certainly been a while.”

Simon stops, looking up to see a shockingly familiar figure studying him in interest. His eyes widen, his mouth going a little dry as he realizes with a sudden sense of surprise that Wilhelm Cronstedt is standing in front of him looking him over with his intense amber eyes.

Wilhelm looks different than the last time he had seen him at Stella’s party last New Year. Not that Simon remembered much about that party, after the bottle of rich people's champagne he had nicked from the kitchen to drink his misery away. 

He has an edgier, artsy sort of haircut now, long in the back, shorter in the front, and purposefully messy, as though he's just rolled out of bed. Simon is painfully aware that he is most definitely pulling it off.

His eyes also go to the fucking stud piercing he has in his right ear. 

Oh and not to mention the casually fashionable way he’s dressed. Simon suddenly feels like a slob. 

Wilhelm smiles at him, tilting his head, “You do remember my name don’t you? The last time we met—-“

“Yeah, I do. Of course, I do. Sorry…um what exactly are you doing here?” 

Wilhelm stares at him for a moment as though he doesn’t understand his words and then he laughs, softly but the amusement is evident. “You know that I work here right?” He turns to point to the cluttered looking desk Simon had passed earlier. “Just over there. I’m the Creative Design Lead.”

Oh.

Wille .

Maddie had said the name as though she expected him to know who that was and he hadn’t thought much of it, but now he realizes that what she really had meant was Wille, as in Wilhelm, as in Wilhelm Cronstedt, unfairly attractive nepo baby that Simon had gone to Hillerska with. Whose friends had made his life a living nightmare and eventually led to him transferring.

To be fair, Wilhelm had never been anything but nice to Simon in school, but he had to have known the shit his friends had said about him, the way they had treated him as though he was lower than the dirt on the soles of their shoes. 

And yea that was a long time ago, but seeing him now is like stepping back into a time portal.

“Simon?” Wilhelm asks, taking a step closer, “Are you alright?”

Simon snaps his attention to the other man, “You work here?”

Wilhelm blinks, “Didn’t Maddie tell you that?”

He feels his cheeks warm slightly and shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck, “Not really.”

“Oh…I just assumed.”

“Yeah no. She didn’t.”

They stand there awkwardly for a moment, Simon picking at one of the fraying threads of his bag unsure what more there is to say to each other.

“I just had lunch are you on your way out?”

“Yeah, I lost track of time a bit.”

“It happens.” Wilhelms smile is easygoing and kind, annoyingly and effortlessly attractive. His eyes seem to follow Simon as he begins to step away

“Um well, I’m just going to get lunch…”

“Sure,” Wilhelm murmurs and then he calls out as Simon had already started toward the elevator. “Hey. Welcome to SocialFly Simon. It’s nice to have you join us.” He slides his hands into the pockets of his pants and gives Simon a little half smile that is way too confident and attractive for his own good. 

Simon blinks, unsure what to say and the moment stretches a bit too long to be comfortable. Wilhelm inclines his head and turns, headed over to his desk leaving Simon to stare for a second longer before getting his shit together and hurrying back to the elevator.

As soon as the doors close he’s opening the group chat with his roommates.

And they were roommates

Me

Holy shit there’s a guy at my new office who I used to go to school in Bjärstad with, 

Me

Do you guys remember me talking about Wilhelm?

Rosh

Wilhelm?

Me

Super rich, nepo baby from a noble family turned big-time lawyer family?

Rosh 

Wasn't everyone in that school a super rich nepo baby? 🤑

Me

Good point

Ayub

I remember him. The cute one.

Me

??????

Rosh

?????

Ayub

You thought he was cute.

Me

How the hell do you remember that?

Ayub

Bro I listen when you tell me shit?💀

Rosh

Why the fuck are there so many people from Bjärstad here istg

Me

Well to be fair his family is from Stockholm, he was only going to Hillerska cause it’s legacy blah blah blah

Ayub

How the hell do you remember that? Hmm?

Me

Shut up

Rosh 

Isn’t it your first day? Shouldn’t you be like signing documents or some bs? 

Me

I’m taking my break

Ayub

Sweet. Don’t forget to Rosh’s goodbye party is at 7 tonight🍕🍰

Rosh

If you can remember random details about a guy you thought was cute in school then you can remember that

Me

I didn't forget wtf?

Rosh 

Just Making Sure 

Simon closes the chat, rolling his eyes and sighing. He’s on the street now, turning towards Kulturhuset and to where the square is located below ground level. 

He ends up in a coffee shop in the underground shopping center with a milky latte-type thing and a cookie. Rosh would be berating him right now about his juvenile and disordered eating habits, but he’s much more interested in messing around on his phone.

Namely stalking through Wilhelms Instagram feed. 

He's not the type of person who does these kinds of things, really he’s not. But Wilhelm had fallen off his radar since he had left Hillerska in his second year and he’s extremely curious about what brought the richest kid in his class, the one whose family owns one of the largest and best corporate law firms in all of the Nordics, to a place like SocialFly Digital.

It’s almost laughable when he thinks about it. As far as he knows everyone in Wilhelm's family are lawyers, and he knows for a fact that’s the path that Wilhelm himself had been on at least when they had known each other in school.

Wilhelm had always seemed to fit in perfectly among all of the pretentious children of privilege, he wasn’t as loud or crass as some of his friends but it had always come off to Simon as some kind of false humility, considering how his family line came from nobility and how wealthy he was.

Surely he was supposed to be sitting in some sleek expensive law office, going over mergers and helping giant corporations crush little privately owned businesses with a pretty perfect, shark of a lawyer girlfriend by his side. Simon thinks the woman from this morning in the elevator would be just the type.

What the hell is he doing with a messy hairstyle, piercings, and jewelry in a digital marketing startup like SocialFly?

Wilhelms Instagram is even more confusing, it’s aesthetic and weirdly artsy, photos of friends and places and random objects that are somehow appealing and interesting to look at. He pauses at a candid photo of Wilhelms profile, one of his friends must have taken it.

The man’s hair is a little shaggy, longer in the back and he’s wearing a fucking ear cuff and a loose black sweater that’s slipping off of his shoulder.

Simon stares at his large hand, wrapped around a beer bottle, at the rings and the fucking black painted nails.

Who the fuck is this person?

He thinks back to Sara’s Studenten photos. His sister had continued to go to Hillerska and she had graduated there. Simon and their mother had been at her Studenten at least for the utspring when the students ran out of the school for the final time and then all end up mingling in the front of the school as they say their goodbyes.

He hadn’t really interacted with Wilhelm there, but he had been in a lot of his sister's photos. Simon is having such a difficult time coming to terms that the straight-laced-looking boy with his neat haircut and expensive tailored suit and this person are one in the same.

And then he finds something that really shocks him.

There are a lot of photos of Wilhelm and Felice, one of his sister's close friends from her Hillerska days, as well as a shorter man that Simon vaguely recognizes as having been a third year when he was in his first year at the school.

There is one particular photo that catches his eyes though, the three of them are pressed together, drinking, in some sort of nightlife environment. The other man is wearing a shiny, almost sparkly button-up, holding a cocktail, and looking at the camera with a smirk. Felice is kissing Wilhelms cheek in between the two men and Wilhelm, in a loose white and blue shirt and layered necklaces, is grinning so wide it looks like his face might break in two.

But it’s really the caption that surprises him the most.

If there’s one thing about us queers, it’s that we fucking know how to party.

He reads it again and looks back at the photo, feeling suddenly like he has stepped into an alternate timeline or dimension.

Is Wilhelm queer?

The first thing he does is message, Maddie.

Me

Maddie is Wilhelm Cronstedt queer?

He stares as he sees the typing bubbles appear and disappear, sipping his coffee.

Maddie

??? That was random.

Me

You didn’t tell me he worked with you? Don’t you think that’s information I should know? We all went to school together??

Maddie

I did tell you. I showed you his desk?

Simon rolls his eyes and hunches over the cafe table to type his response.

Maddie

Wait did you not realize I was talking about Wilhelm? Like I was just mentioning a random Wille?

Me

Wilhelm and I were never friends in school, I didn’t recognize him by his nickname. But is he queer?

Maddie

Why don’t you just ask him? 

Me

I saw his Instagram

Maddie

You’re stalking his insta?

Me

🙄 not like that idk I just didn’t expect to see him today. He’s so different than he was in school

Maddie

We are all pretty different than we were in high school Simon 😭😭

Me

Yea but I had no idea he was queer?? Like he always was so straight looking 

Maddie

💀 not you assuming his sexuality based on how he looks

Me

Hell I didn’t mean it like that you know what I meant

Maddie

I mean he wasn’t out in school. But really if you want to know so bad you should ask him about it

Simon bites his lip, knowing she’s right. He feels a little ashamed of being so adamant about his perceived straightness when he really hadn’t known Wilhelm so well back then and it's true, people change over the years, especially after high school.

It’s not his place to speculate, but it’s odd to know years later just how many queer people had been at Hillerska when he had felt so alone and ostracized there. He had often thought it had been because he was the only queer kid in his class, but now as an adult, he’s realizing that his perceptions of things hadn’t been very accurate. 

He thinks about Wilhelm back then, in his Lacoste and Ralph Lauren, on the rowing team and part of the boys club that had seemed to ooze elitist, white and wealthy traditional values. Had it been difficult for him? Fitting into an environment there back then? 

He looks over the photo of his side profile again, the way he’s laughing, messy, and inelegant, and realizes that he never once saw him smile like that in school.

“Huh.” He murmurs aloud, to himself more than anything. He finishes his coffee and takes another bite of the cookie before realizing he’s been out for way longer than he intended.

Simon throws his trash away, tucks his phone back into his pocket, and hurries back to his new office, but he’s still thinking about Wilhelm and Felice and the other man he remembers is named Nils. 

________

His boyfriend has been blowing up his phone with messages.

It’s not like Simon is ignoring him, he’d answered a few times but he’s been in a meeting with HR until now, going over the hire materials and discussing his new role in order to get acquainted with everything.

Simon had been clear that he would be busy today and he’s annoyed that today of all days Marcus decides he suddenly needs to speak with him and that Simon somehow is ignoring what he has to say if it takes longer than five minutes to get back to him.

Marcus always messages him when it’s convenient for him, and there have been times when it literally took him an entire day to respond, yet he has the nerve to get pissy about this? 

He doesn’t bother complaining to Ayub and Rosh, he knows exactly what they will say. His friends, Rosh especially, are not very fond of Simon’s boyfriend. Simon isn’t even so sure he’s very fond of Marcus, but every time he starts to realize that he doesn’t really enjoy being with him, every time he starts to lose interest, the other man suddenly does something incredibly sweet or thoughtful and Simon is reminded of all the good memories they have had together and the idea of breaking up seems like a bad idea. It’s not easy to find someone, and Simon hates being single more than he hates dating.

Marcus is the only person who didn’t push him and tell him he was making a mistake when he quit music. Simon had been miserable about it and he had been the only person who hadn’t made him feel worse. 

Rosh had argued that Marcus had wanted Simon to quit music, but they don’t understand. Marcus had never been that interested in Simon’s music career, the man was an engineer with a mathematician's brain, creative pursuits were the last thing he cared about, but he was steady and normal and things with him were relatively easy.

As long as he is in a good mood.

Marcus could be obnoxiously jealous and they had had plenty of fights over him feeling entitled to monopolize Simon’s time. 

They had broken up before, but it hadn’t lasted very long. Simon hadn’t felt good about himself after the breakup, and the moment Marcus was there, complimenting him again, showing him attention he had made the mistake of letting him back in. 

He catches himself at the word “ mistake ” and frowns looking down at his phone. It’s not like Marcus isn’t nice, everyone fights with their partner that’s normal right? Mistake is probably too strong of a word, but he is just annoyed now because the other man is blowing up his phone when he told him he was busy at his new job.

Me

Stop messaging me I’m busy. I’ll call you after work.

Marcus

You’re ignoring me. I’m trying to ask you a question about tomorrow.

Me

Tomorrow?

Marcus 

It’s Alvin's birthday? Don’t tell me you forgot

Me

Wait, I told you I couldn’t go. Did you tell him I would be there?

Marcus

What do you mean you can’t go?

Simon makes a sound of frustration, tugging at his hair and fighting the urge to slam his head down on the desk to put himself out of his own misery.

Me

Rosh is moving out of the apartment tomorrow, I told you that Marcus. I told you multiple times. I told you that was why I couldn’t go

Marcus is calling him again and he closes his eyes, rubbing his fingers into his temple and taking a short, tight breath before answering. He picks up the phone call and doesn’t even have a chance to speak before Marcus is in his ear.

“You know this is important Simme. I already told him you would be there, he made a reservation and I already paid for both of us.”

“It’s not my fault that you went ahead without my permission and told him I would be there Marcus?” He says, trying to keep his voice low and even so that he wouldn’t attract the attention of his new colleagues. 

“I don’t remember you telling me that, and besides I thought you were having Rosh’s party tonight? Why do you have to be there tomorrow?”

He bites his lip, grip tightening on his mobile, cursing in his mind but trying to remain civil, “We are having the party tonight, which by the way you said you couldn’t come to because you have to get a haircut . Rosh is one of my best friends since fucking—“ he looks around the office and then hunches down lowering his voice even more, “since grade school and you’re insane if you think I’m not going to be there to say goodbye when they leave the apartment. I told them I would help with unpacking and the boxes. That’s what friends do, Marcus.”

His boyfriend laughs humorlessly on the other line, “Don’t get so offended, it’s not my fault you weren’t clear to me. Now you’re just going to embarrass me in front of my friends by looking like you don’t give a shit about my best friend. And when I already paid for you and no I can’t get a refund. Thanks a lot for nothing, that’s so inconsiderate you know?”

Simon wants to scream, his heart is racing at a sick pace and he closes his eyes tightly trying to gain control over his voice, “Don’t try to make me the bad person here. You know fucking well that I told you I couldn’t go there, and if you paid already that’s on you.”

And then Marcus curses and hangs up on him. 

Simon fights the urge to throw his phone, it wouldn’t be the first time and he can’t afford another one right now. He runs his hand over his face and lets out a muffled scream into his elbow before glancing at the clock and grabbing his things, pushing back from the desk.

Most of the employees have left and he’s more or less finished, but that stupid phone call had kept him here longer than he was planning.

He’s just whipping away from his desk, still flushed and angry when he hears a voice behind him.

“Everything alright?”

He freezes, looking behind him to see Wilhelm, his things together, jacket hanging over his arm, and a large canvas bag on his shoulder, heavy with what Simon assumes is his laptop and other work materials.

“Oh, you heard that?”

“Parts of it.” He says apologetically, “Not to mention the not-so-subtle scream you just tried to hide in your elbow.”

Simon sighs, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple, hating everything in the world right now. Finally, he opens his eyes and looks back to Wilhelm who is giving him a small sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about that. It’s just some drama with my boyfriend.”

“Ah.” The other man runs a hand through his shaggy hair and grimaces a bit, “I’m sorry. That’s always so shitty.”

“It’s okay Wilhelm. I’m just sorry you had to hear all of—“ he gestures  with his hands, “ that.”  

“It’s cool. I was just hoping everything was okay.” Wilhelm smiles a bit looking him over, “Are you on your way out?”

Simon blinks, “Huh?”

The other man gestures to his bag and the things he’s holding. “Are you leaving? I just assumed…”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m leaving.”

“Want to go together?” Wilhelm asks casually, “I’m on my way as well.” He nods toward the elevators and smiles again. Simon is distracted by the slightly crooked shape his lips make when he does so, it’s weirdly attractive. He’s not sure how he never noticed that before. 

“Um…yea sure.” 

He and Maddie are supposed to go pick up a cake and head back to his apartment together, but there’s no reason he can't wait downstairs for her right? 

Wilhelm nods and heads out of the building and toward the elevators, one is just arriving and they step inside. Luckily no one else is riding with them.

“So,” Wilhelm says looking over at him. Simon blinks back, fingers gripping the strap of his bag. “How was your first day then? As bad as you thought it would be?”

“I didn’t think…” The expression on Wilhelm's face is amused and he sighs, “Okay. No. It wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not the worst job. I actually like it a lot. I get to be as creative as I want without being micromanaged.” He shrugs, “But I'm not doing the same thing as you. I can't speak for how it will be in your department.”

Simon nods. He thinks back to his revelation from earlier today to the mystery of what Wilhelm is doing here and how he really hadn’t known anything about him in school despite having a very clear idea of him in his head. 

“I was surprised to see you here…” he starts carefully. Wilhelm looks at him and there’s something complicated in his eyes that makes Simon unsure if he should be so direct with him or not. “Uh…because I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Wilhelm turns a little towards him, the walls of the elevator are mirrored and Simon feels as though the other man is surrounding him, seeing him from every angle. “We saw each other at Stella’s party.” There’s a smirk that tugs at the corners of his grin like he’s referencing an inside joke that Simon isn’t a part of. 

“Yeah we did, but it’s not like we really talked or anything.”

“Well, we talked a little bit.” Wilhelm laughs softly, “But then I guess it devolved into not talking.”

“What do you mean?” Simon asks, confused at his words. Wilhelm blinks at him, amber eyes just as confused as Simon feels and then they widen slightly and he pulls back as though he’s realized something.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well we talked at some point I think, but I was really drunk and honestly I don’t remember a lot from that night. Sorry.” He grimaces thinking back. He doesn’t drink very often but that night had been the tail end of a massive shitstorm where everything that could have gone wrong did, he had been in a bad place and had drank so much that the majority of the evening was nothing but a fuzzy, confusing memory. 

“Oh. I see.” Wilhelm's voice softens a bit and he loses the smirk turning back and away from Simon, and Simon feels less pinned and observed as he did just a second ago. “That’s okay. Sorry I didn’t mean to confuse you.”

“No, I feel kind of bad, like if you told me something important or whatever. It’s just that it was a weird night and a lot happened that I don't remember.”

“Yeah, sure. I understand.” The other man smiles, pushing back his bangs and stepping out of the elevator when they arrive at the ground floor. 

“You know I actually have to wait for Maddie here.” Simon says looking around the sleek-looking lobby, “I kind of forgot that when we were leaving, but thanks for keeping me company Wilhelm.”

“No problem.” He shrugs and readjusts the bag on his shoulder. Simon gets the feeling the other man wants to say something else but he doesn’t, just nods, “Well see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll be here.” Simon says, eyes still lingering on him.

“Okay.” Wilhelm starts to turn and then stops as though he’s thought better of it, looking back to Simon, “By the way. You can call me Wille. everyone does.”

Simon blinks, he swallows, and nods, trying to understand everything that’s happening in his own mind, “Ah. Yeah right.” He finds himself laughing a bit awkwardly, feeling self-conscious under the other's gaze and his amused smile.

“Have a nice evening Simon.” Wilhelm—no Wille says before turning and walking out the rotating doors. Simon watches his figure as he grows smaller and smaller and then finally turns and disappears into the crowd of people headed down Hamngatan. 

You can call me Wille.

It feels oddly familiar and close considering they hadn’t really interacted much at school. Simon supposes he’s being a little too weird about the whole thing considering Wilhelm seems to be close friends with Maddie and Felice, who is good friends with his own sister. Really he’s probably making this into a bigger thing than it really is, but it’s just kind of odd.

Especially the way Wille had been acting so familiar with him in the elevator, as though the two of them have some kind of history he’s unaware of. 

He says this to Maddie as they wait for the cake and the girl rolls her eyes.

“Maybe he was flirting.” She jokes and Simon rolls his eyes.

“Oh please.” The staff behind the counter hands him the box in a plastic bag and his receipt and he motions for Maddie to follow him out of the shop.

It’s almost November, and he feels the chill already through his thin jacket. Pretty soon he’s going to have to pull his winter clothes out from the back of his closet and it’s going to be dark and dreary and miserable again. Simon isn’t looking forward to it at all. Winter is bad enough, but winter in the city is worse. Having to run around in slush and how everything is just gray and people are in such bad moods. Even the snow, which can be pretty, just turns into a dirty mess after a day, that refreshes overnight into slick icy sidewalks that spell out imminent danger for everyone trying to make their way to work in the mornings.

“Flirting? Why would he be flirting with me?”

Maddie snorts. “Well, considering you’re attractive maybe that’s a good place to start.”

Simon rolls his eyes again cursing as a particularly chilly gust of wind hits him from the side as they turn the corner to go down into the underground.

“I’m sure he’s dating someone.” 

“Nah. Wille doesn’t really date.” She says offhandedly and he looks over at her.

“You think he’s single?”

“I mean he’s not like celibate ” she laughs, “But I don’t think he’s had a long-term relationship in a really long time. This isn’t gossip, he told me himself.”

“Huh.” 

Simon scans his train app on the reader and walks through the gates when they open, turning around on the escalator to look up at Maddie, “So do you know what he’s doing at the agency?”

Maddie raises an eyebrow, “SocialFly?”

“Yeah. Isn’t his whole family like lawyers or something?”

Maddie shrugs, “Actually I don’t know. Maybe he just wanted to try something different. He’s really talented, he does digital art on the side, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I can send you the link to his website.”

Simon raises an eyebrow in surprise and nods, stepping off of the escalator and toward the platform for the train bound toward Brommaplan with Maddie right behind him.

It’s a train trip to Brommaplan and a few stops on the bus that lets them out at the station across from his apartment complex. The sun is already low, indicative of the changing seasons and Simon knows that in a few months, it will be dark when he leaves for work and dark before when he returns. 

Maddie throws her arms around Rosh when they come around the corner as the two of them are kicking off their shoes.

He hears Ayub and one of Rosh’s football friends playing video games in the living room and he skirts past them all to set the cake on the counter before rejoining everyone.

Ayub looks up and waves, “Hey man! How was your first day?”

His friend is a teacher at a nearby primary school by day, but he also works at a music studio in the evenings. He’s into the hip-hop scene and Simon used to spend hours upon hours in the studio with him just to soak up the environment. But it had been a long time since he had followed along with him to the studio, long enough for Ayub to stop asking him to join. 

Simon sets his bag and keys on the table and goes into the kitchen to grab a can of cola from the fridge. “Yeah, it was good.” He crosses over to the couch and sits next to Ayub, practically on his leg.

“Bro?” Ayub complains trying to not lose his concentration in the game.

“Move over.” Simon pushes at him and his friend makes a half squeal or wail when his character falls into a ravine because Simon knocked the controller.

“Yes!” Rosh’s friend cries out, “You’re a lifesaver, Simon.”

Ayub groans, throwing his head back against the couch, “You suck so hard.”

“You suck.” Simon parrots back, taking a sip.

“No, you suck.”

“You.”

Rosh from across the room, mid-conversation with Maddie yells out, “Simon is probably a lot more talented at sucking than you will ever be Ayub” which causes everyone on the couch to laugh, including him.

“Shut up Rosh! And focus on honing your own skills!” Simon yells back at them, before hearing Maddie giggle.

Rosh and Maddie and Rosh’s friend duck out at some point to pick up the pizzas, leaving him and Ayub to clean up and get ready for the rest of the group to show up,

“So Wilhelm works with you, yeah?”

Simon looks over at him from the side of his eyes, “Yeah he does.”

“Was he nice?” Ayub asks.

“Nice?”

“Well I just remember all the shit that went down at your school and…he wasn’t involved with that was he?”

Simon frowns, thinking back. Going to Hillerska hadn't been all bad of course, but he had had a hard time of it, it’s what had prompted him to transfer out despite the fact that Sara was still going there. “No. Well, not directly. Some of his friends were involved, and his cousin, but I don’t think he remembers. Or at least he’s pretending not to.”

Ayub frowns, “I’m sorry man.”

“It’s fine. We talked today actually. He’s…” Simon pauses and thinks for a moment before looking back at Ayub who is pulling out a stack of paper plates. “He’s different than I remember, or maybe more than I expected.”

His friend looks up briefly, nodding, “That’s cool. People can get better with age I guess.”

Rosh and Maddie return just as they are finishing up, with a few other people in tow, and before long the party, more of a chill dinner affair, is underway.

Simon leans against his athletic friend, “I’m gonna miss you waking me up at five am doing squats and deadlifts and shit.” 

They snort, ruffling his hair and shaking their head. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to love the peace and quiet.”

“But what if I need someone to catch a mouse, or change a lightbulb or fix the remote?”

Rosh nudges him with a strong shoulder and grins, “Oh please you’re perfectly capable of doing all of those things yourself, except maybe the mouse thing. In that case, you just call me and I’ll be right here.”

Simon purses his lips and looks over at Maddie, glaring dramatically for emphasis, “This is all your fault.”

She just leans against Rosh, planting a kiss on their cheek, and smiles with guileless ease at him, “Yep. Sure is. Not apologizing.”

“Oh, are we making a Rosh pile?” Ayub mutters from behind them on the way to the kitchen.

“No. We are not making a Rosh pile” Rosh’s eyes go wider, trying to pull away, but it’s too late as Ayub opens his arms wide and lets himself drape over them. Simon pushes himself closer to his friend as well while Maddie grins and starts to give them kisses in quick succession.

“I can’t fucking breathe—“ Rosh complains loudly, pushing at them in a halfhearted manner, but Simon hears the way they laugh and it only encourages him to be even more obnoxious.

“Thank god I’m moving out.” 

__________

That night after the party, Simon is lying in bed on his phone. Marcus has sent him several messages, but he hasn’t even opened their chat. 

Instead, he finds himself scrolling through Wille’s Instagram again. Really he swears he doesn’t usually do stuff like this, but he can’t really get the other man off of his mind after today.

That moment in the elevator, Wille had been turned towards him, and his expression had been sharper, more intense, and as though he knew something about Simon that even he didn’t know himself. He bites his lip, tracing over his face in an old picture from several years ago. It must have been right in Wille’s first year of university, he's in pajamas on someone’s couch, with a glass of wine. He looks tired, there are dark shadows under his eyes. He looks like one of those sickly skinny supermodels, shoulders, and cheeks sharper than he has ever seen, and Simon frowns when he reads the caption.

Blood may be thicker than water, but friendship is thicker than both.

Without meaning to, he accidentally likes the photo and then without thinking unlikes it, sitting up in bed and cursing out loud.

Wille definitely will see the notification, and then he will know that Simon had been stalking his Instagram considering the photo was years old. But then he will realize that he has unliked it as well which is just so pathetic because it makes it obvious that he’s stalking his Instagram and doesn’t want him to know.

As if sensing his crisis his phone buzzes and he stares at the message from Wille.

Willetalks 

😎 caught you

His eyes widen even further as he takes his phone in his hand and stares at the message and the emoji.

Me

You didn’t see anything

Willetalks

Unfortunately for you I have a very bad

 habit of spending way too much 

time on social media before bed. 

Simon finds himself smirking a bit, looking around at the setting where he himself is at the moment. It seems a bit familiar, he imagines Wilhelm also lying back, mindlessly scrolling through Simon’s photos as well.

Me

Who are you? Me?

Willetalks

I guess it’s a common affliction of our 

generation. 

Willetalks

I was in my heroin chic phase

Me

What??

Willetalks

Just kidding. The photo you liked

 hate that picture 

Me

Why do you have it on Instagram then?

Willetalks

It’s a memory of a difficult time in my life.

 It reminds me that things are better now.

Me

Oh. It really isn’t that bad. You just don't look very happy.

Willetalks

I wasn't.

Willetalks

But that was years ago 😎 you could have 

at least liked one of my thirst traps

Simon snorts, furrowing his brow at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

Me

I didn’t actually see any 

Willetalks

Ouch 😭

He’s about to reply when a text from Marcus comes in and he makes the mistake of opening it. It’s his boyfriend apologizing for today, for calling him so much at work and getting angry at him.

Marcus

I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to be inconsiderate and you’re right. No worries who cares about the money. I should have asked you before I made the reservation. I miss you. Don’t be mad please?

Simon rolls his eyes at the text, biting at his thumbnail before looking out the window of his room. It’s impossible to see anything from here, except for the strip of road and the faint light from the bus stop.

He should ignore the message, and let the other man stew for a bit, but now that Marcus has seen that he read the message he feels like he has to respond.

Marcus

I was really rude. I’m sorry

Me

It’s okay. I forgive you.

Marcus

Baby you’re so kind, thank you. I really was an asshole today. I think I just missed talking to you and was excited to see you tomorrow. We haven't seen each other in so long.

Me

It’s okay Marcus. It’s not a big deal.

Marcus

Do you miss me?

He frowns at his phone, biting his lip to keep from frowning. They haven’t seen each other since last weekend when Simon had spent the night at his place. Simon knows that his boyfriend had been looking forward to the two of them having some alone time, but he had come down with some sort of bug and he hadn’t felt so well so Marcus had been disappointed when he had left early.

Me

Yeah, I miss you.

Marcus

Want to come over this weekend? Or should I come there? 

Simon leans back on the pillows and sighs. Lately, it feels as though spending time with Marcus is more of a hassle than actually any fun. Simon likes sex and he likes intimacy, and they had never had an issue being compatible on that front until recently. Lately, he just feels like he’s not really motivated anymore. 

His phone buzzes again and he’s expecting another message from Marcus but finds himself pleasantly surprised when he sees the little Instagram logo and Wille’s username looking up at him.

Willetalks

Are you done stalking my Instagram then?

Me

Don’t flatter yourself 

Willetalks 

😎

Me

Still looking for any alleged “thirst traps”

Willetalks 

Hell. You really know how to take a guy down several pegs

Me

😏 that’s not all I know how to do

Simon stares at his own brazen response and feels a rush of disbelief go through him. He’s ridiculous, he probably shouldn’t be flirting with a coworker, even if they are in different departments. Wille is still above him and he literally just started this job. 

Not to mention Wille is…well he’s Wilhelm Cronstedt. The rich, maybe-not-as-nepo-baby as Simon had once thought, but still. It was probably better to stay away from any and all of that.

He plugs in his phone, setting it face down under his pillow without sending either Wille or Marcus a message in reply. 

It’s been a long day and he’s tired and confused and his mattress is calling for him sweetly as he closes his eyes.

After all, tomorrow is another day selling his soul to the gods of corporate monotony and he needs all the rest he can get.

Chapter Text

It’s nearly dark when Wilhelm says goodbye to Simon and leaves the office building. Fall is in full swing and the days are getting shorter and colder. He looks back once at the solitary figure standing in the lobby, lit by the industrial office lighting, and exhales softly into the crisp air, trying to dislodge any lingering awkwardness that lingers from realizing they weren’t quite on the same page.

As he turns down Hamngatan, he can’t help how his thoughts turn to the other man. Seeing him today wasn’t exactly a complete surprise. Maddie had said that Simon was starting a job at SocialFly, but he still doesn’t really understand why he’s there.

It’s not that he isn’t glad to be sharing an office and space with Simon once more. It’s just that he isn’t sure why Simon, the creative artist that he is, is working at a place like SocialFly . As far as Wilhelm is aware, he hasn’t been writing or producing music in a while, but it feels like that’s what he was always meant to do, it feels like that's the path he had always been striving towards.

Of course, Simon doesn’t owe any explanation and in any case, it’s just nice to see him again and know that the other hasn’t completely forgotten who he is, even though Simon had never reached out to him after what had transpired between them.

If he’s being honest, Wilhelm had been a little disappointed, but he’s old enough to take rejection when it comes. However, their conversation in the elevator had been practically mortifying when he realized that Simon didn’t quite seem to recall what he had been referencing. 

He’s not so sure if Simon is pretending not to remember, or if really has forgotten. It’s not really something that matters anyway, judging by the phone call that Wilhelm had overheard. It doesn’t really matter that they had had a moment at some random party nearly a year ago, it's clear that he is dating someone. 

Well, it’s obvious, someone like Simon wouldn’t be single for long.

He frowns, shouldering his bag as he feels his phone buzz

bad bitches 💅

Nisse

I'm bored. Drinks at Papillon tonight? 

Felice 

I have a client meeting until 18:00 but I can come 

Nisse

I knew I could count on you. The girlies never disappoint 

Felice

😘💅

Nisse

Where is @Wille

Me

I’m here. Yes god PLEASE I need a stiff drink

Nisse

You need a stiff something else 🍆

Felice

Is everything okay?

Me

Nisse you suck

Nisse

Suck? I can keep going with the eggplant jokes you know. You’re practically writing them for me 😩

Me

Everything’s okay Felice

Me

But guess who started working at my office today 

Felice

Ohhhhhhh right

Felice

Was it awkward?

Nisse

What am I missing here? Excuse me? What’s the tea? What’s the hot goss? Why are you bitches talking about drama I am not savvy to???

Me

Simon Eriksson started at my job 

Nisse

OHHH??????? The cute one? With the curls and the face and the voice?

Me

Yes

Nisse

Didn't you two almost hook up at Stella’s party

Felice

Yes

Me

Yes

Nisse

Oooohhh the plot thickens. What did he say? Do? 

Me

Uhhh nothing? You know I gave him my number at the party but he never called or messaged so I figured he wasn’t interested. 

Me

And then today he’s there looking at me like i'm some kind of alien and I don’t think he remembers the party? Or he’s pretending not to remember idk 

Me

It’s fine

Felice

Well let’s have some drinks later 💕 we can talk about it?

Felice

I know you were kind of bummed he never contacted you back

Me

Well, it’s not a big deal. I just thought things were headed in that direction maybe? idk haha.

Nisse

Just do what I do

Me

What? Sex parties in Verbier?

Nisse

They aren’t sex parties. Although sex does happen. 

Nisse

Okay admittedly a lot of sex

Nisse

Mmm okay they might be sex parties

Nisse

Anyway want to have a sex party?😌

Me

That’s the last thing I think I want to do Nisse. At least with you 🤷

Nisse

😩😩

Nisse

Felice?

Felice

That’s going to be a definite no from me

Nisse

😩😩

Wilhelm rolls his eyes, a small smile on his lips as closes the chat and slips his phone into his pocket. Normally he drives his car, mostly because he lives rather further out and it’s faster to get to the office by car, and parks in the underground parking at the office, but he had woken up early today. Early enough to get in a run and fiddle with his new coffee machine (spoiler alert the new coffee machine did not in fact help him improve his latte art. No he’s not becoming a barista anytime soon ) so he had decided it would be nice to take a break from driving and come into the city with the train. 

It gives him time to think over the things that had happened today.

Maddie had told him Simon was starting, but Maddie, as far as he is aware, doesn’t know about what happened between him and Simon so it had been just a general statement, brought up because she thought it was relevant. They had, after all, gone to school together even if it was only for a short time.

Wilhelm makes his way to the train station, thinking back to the last time he had seen Simon. That night at Stella’s party. It was something he had spent a lot of time going over in his head, wondering sometimes if he had only dreamed it. Simon had seemingly disappeared after that night, Wilhelm had hoped that he would reach out and had had to swallow his disappointment when he never had. 

But it was hard; to push out the memory of his lips on his, the warmth of his skin beneath his hands, the soft, desperate sounds he had made into their shared breath. These are things he had thought of for months after that night.

________

Simon Eriksson is at this party.

Wilhelm hasn’t seen him in years, not since the middle of the second-year gymnasium. Felice had mentioned, offhandedly, that Sara’s brother was here and that she hadn’t seen him in a long time. She surely had seen him more recently than Wilhelm himself though, for him it had been nearly six years now.

Sara stayed at Hillerska even after Simon had left and she and Felice stayed friends after school, so Wilhelm has seen her several times since graduation. She doesn’t live in Stockholm,  but she comes often on the weekends to visit her brother and friends and of course, she’s here at Stella’s big New Year’s party. Everyone comes to Stella’s New Year’s parties. 

Everyone except Simon.

Simon hasn’t ever come to one of these parties, even back in school he had avoided them, so hearing that he’s here is a surprise.

He can’t help but look for him as the night goes on. 

Stella’s family owns a spacious estate close to Åkeshov, a sprawling place with extensive grounds and plenty of rooms for partygoers to disappear into and get up to all sorts of things. Her family always spends New Year in the Seychelles, but Stella (who can’t stand her family) usually makes some kind of excuse to stay in Sweden, which is the perfect opportunity to make use of their big empty home for a proper party.

Sure they had “sophisticated” it up a bit the older they had gotten. Charcuterie and champagne. Suits and glitzy dresses. Back in the day it had been cheese puffs, vodka Red Bull, and skimpy clothes better suited for a nightclub, but none of these things changed what was always the core of these parties. 

They were always an excuse to get shitfaced and laid. 

He takes a sip of the drink that’s been pushed into his hands looking around again over the tops of people's heads and frowning slightly.

“Who are you looking for?”

He jumps when he hears Felice speak in his ear and some of the beer in his glass splashes on the front of one of his shirt. It’s one of his nicer shirts that he had pulled out for this, a little silky and in a pale blue color that unfortunately doesn’t hide the spot where the liquid has spilled at all.

“Oh shit.” She giggles spinning around to grab a napkin off the hors d’oeuvres table and wipe at the wet spot. “Sorry!”

“It’s okay” he reaches out, stilling her hand, “don’t worry about it you can’t even see it anyway.”

Thats a lie, but all he can really do is hope it dries soon, the lighting is dim enough in here that it’s probably not that noticeable anyway.

She giggles again, tipsy and obviously in a good mood, “Soooo who are you looking for?”

“I’m not looking for anyone.”

She snorts, “Sure you aren’t.” 

“Who is looking for someone?” Nils is suddenly there at their sides, a champagne flute in his hand and a conspiratorial look on his features.

“Wille is looking for someone.”

“I’m not—-“

“Oh Wille, who are you looking for? Isak? Imani?” Nils begins to list off some of the names of Wilhelm’s more recent hookups and he makes a sudden noise like he’s realized something, “Do you have a thing for ‘I’ names? Is that why we’ve never hooked up?”

His friend cackles as though he’s said something really funny and Wilhelm rolls his eyes. “Yes, Nisse. That’s why we’ve never hooked up.”

“But seriously, who are you looking for?” Felice is asking, but he barely sees her as his eyes catch something over the heads of the people. 

Suddenly Wilhelm sees him. Just through the gap in the crowd, across the room. His side profile is caught in the colorful lights and Wilhelm feels his breath catch for a moment. He’s wearing a transparent black button-up, the ridges and lines of his shoulders and clavicle exposed to the light. Simon tilts his head toward the ceiling before biting his lip as he looks back at the table.

Wilhelm watches as he raises a whole bottle of champagne, which he’s holding in a loose grip around the neck with slender fingers. Wilhelm swallows hard, watching as he lifts the bottle and tilts back his head, exposing the length of his throat as he drinks. Champagne spills from the side of his mouth and Wilhelm's throat feels dry as he watches him wipe it away with a finger and absently suck it off.

Holy shit.

“Oh my god, you’re looking for Simon?” Felice says, practically cackling with glee. 

He blinks, coming back to the real world and the noise of the party around him. “Huh?”

“You’re staring at the boy like he’s a half-off at the marketplace.”

Wilhelm looks around at them, “I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you were.”

“You were giving him fuck eyes.”

“What the hell are fuck eyes Nisse?”

“The eyes you give someone when you want to fuck them. This isn’t a hard concept to follow” he looks to Felice, “is this a hard concept to follow?” 

“No, not a hard concept to follow. So are you going to talk to him—-“

“Are you going to hook up with him?”

“Fuck off, Nisse.” He groans and his friend grins at him, obviously enjoying this.

“I mean Eriksson is looking good since we were in school together. If you don’t want to try then maybe I’ll—“

He shoots Nils a dark look and pushes off the wall, ignoring his friends jeers from behind him as he strides over towards Simon who he notices is reaching for one of the other champagne bottles. Slightly surprised he watches as the other slips out down the hallway around the corner and is just fast enough to see him disappear into one of the adjacent rooms.

Wilhelm wonders for a moment if he’s with someone and has nicked a bottle to share. He almost turns around but something tells him not to.

He hasn’t seen Simon since secondary school, despite the fact he’s been following him on social media and paying attention to his music projects. 

For a while, he had thought that Simon was just on the verge of really blowing up in the industry. People had been really talking about him, his music had been getting airplay and Wilhelm remembers hearing his music blared from teenagers speakers as they lay on blankets in the summer sun. 

And then one day he had announced he was pulling out of a festival and it had all just—-stopped. No more posts or tweets from his official accounts, he had made his personal Twitter and Instagram private and had gone radio silent without another word.

Wilhelm had asked Felice actually, if she was aware why he stopped making music, but she hadn’t had anything to tell him except that and she had once asked Sara who had remained tight lipped about it. 

But knowing that Sara was still in touch with him at least reassured Wilhelm that he was still around in the city. He's not sure why, but he had felt a bit worried, it had just seemed so sudden. 

Standing in front of the door to the room Simon had disappeared into he frowns, leaning in a bit to listen for voices. He rationalizes that if he hears anyone inside he will turn around, but if not, if Simon had just wandered in here with a whole bottle of champagne, two if you count the one he had just been drinking, then he has to wonder if everything is okay.

Wilhelm doesn’t hear anything and presses his ear to the door, which turns out to be a bad decision as the door hasn’t been properly closed and he suddenly stumbles forward halfway into the room. 

He freezes, looking up to see Simon, sitting on the floor with his back against the couch. He looks relaxed, one leg straightened out in front of him, the other bent at the knee. There is an empty bottle of champagne next to him and one in his hands. 

Simon’s expression is wide-eyed and surprised, and Wilhelm can’t remember the last time they had been this close. His dark eyes stare at him for a moment, an entrancing, deep shade of brown taking in Wilhelms figure as he straightens himself and coughs awkwardly into the silence.

Simon is flushed and pretty and the sheer black shirt he’s wearing is disheveled, slipping down his shoulder. 

“Um. Hey.” Wilhelm says, trying to save the moment, hoping he doesn’t come off as fucking awkward as he feels,

There’s a beat and then Simon’s expression smoothes out and he beckons him forward, “Oh good. Help me open this.”

Wilhelm notices the bottle of champagne in his hands and blinks looking around for a moment to see if there’s someone else in the room with him or if Simon is actually alone.

“Help me open it and I’ll share.” 

He looks back up and sees Simon watching him, smirking a bit, the corners of his lips tugged upward into an expression that’s intrigued and full of possibility.

“Uh, sure…” Wilhelm looks around for something to put over the cork of the bottle, his eyes land on a fine-looking throw blanket that’s draped across the couch, but he decides against possibly ruining Stella’s family’s things and slips off his jacket instead, extending a hand.

Simon wordlessly hands him the bottle and Wilhelm can feel the way his gaze slips over his shoulders and the lines of his body. Trying to ignore the weight of those eyes and the way they spark heat in his core he focuses on getting the bottle open, wrapping his jacket (it can be washed) around the cork, pointing it away from both of them, and popping it open. The bottle makes a hissing noise and he sees Simon grin.

“You’re a lifesaver.” He murmurs as Wilhelm drops his jacket, which is now all wrinkled and just a little wet, and hands him the now open bottle of champagne.

“Well, I guess I’m useful sometimes.”

Simon leans back and he watches as the man takes a long drink, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up at him. “Want to join me, stranger?” He pats the space next to him and Wilhelm swallows dryly.

“Do you remember me?” Wilhelm asks, a little more softly than he intended perhaps, watching the way the dark-haired man is looking up at him through long, pretty eyelashes. Simon licks his lips and smirks a bit. 

“Do you want to find out?”

Wilhelm sits down beside him and Simon turns his body toward him halfway, reaching out to hand him the bottle by the neck. “The question is. Do you remember me?”

The green glass of the bottle's thin neck is cold and wet with condensation when he takes it. Wilhelm is still focused on the other's gaze, as it travels conspicuously up and down his body.

“I remember you, Simon.” He says honestly with a bit of a smile when he sees the surprise reflected back in the eyes of the other. “You didn’t expect me to?”

“Well, it’s been a long time. Four years…no fuck…five?”

“Six,” Wilhelm says, taking a long sip of the champagne, tasting the tart, bubbly flavor of it on his tongue. He hands the bottle back to Simon, who holds it loosely as he grimaces.

“Fuck. Six years? God, I feel fucking old.”

Wilhelm laughs at that, “Time went by pretty quickly huh.” 

Simon runs a hand through his curls, looking slightly distressed and he barely catches his words when he talks next.

“Maybe too fast.”

“How have you been Simon?” He asks, genuinely.

It’s more than curiosity about what happened to his music. Wilhelm had been rather fascinated with Simon since he had first laid eyes on him performing a solo for the Hillerska choir.

Simon had been so different than anything and everything Wilhelm had known, had grown up around, and he had always wanted to be closer to him than he had been in school, had been drawn to him in a way he hadn’t understood. Simon was direct and upfront about his beliefs, he didn’t mince words or hide behind niceties. He was openly queer and proud of himself and fiercely talented in ways that Wilhelm could never be.

He had wanted so badly to try and become friends with him, but Simon was so fucking intimidating and every time he had so much as looked in his direction he had felt like the other was very uninterested in talking to him.

Back then Wilhelm had been much more reserved and unsure of himself, his insecurities and anxieties had kept him from reaching out, and then in the middle of the second year Simon had left the school suddenly and he had never really figured out why.

“Me? Im fucking great. Obviously, as you can see.” The man says and Wilhelm can’t tell if he’s joking or not. For a moment he feels worry twist his stomach and then Simon smiles at him, soft and coy, leaning a bit closer. 

“How have you been, Wilhelm.”

“Wille.”

“Wille?”

“You can call me Wille.” He says again, unable to break the eye contact that’s happening between them. 

Simon smiles again, slowly, raising the bottle to his lips again, “How have you been, Wille?” 

He says his name like he’s teasing and Wilhelm feels the back of his neck flush.

“I’m good.”

“You look good. Different.” The other's eyes look over him again and he shivers a bit under his intensity.

“Yeah? How so?”

Simon shrugs, “You don’t look so…stuck up and repressed.”

Wilhelm's eyes widen and he has to stifle a laugh, because if only he knew. 

He had been miserable in school. Absolutely miserable. He had felt like his entire life had been planned for him like his future was a dead end and he would forever be trying to live up to the expectations of his parents and his brother. 

“You thought I was stuck up?” He settles on, chuckling a bit and Simon grins at him. Wilhelm realizes he might be a little more affected by the alcohol than he initially realized.

“Yep. Weren’t you?”

“I don’t know. Why did you think that?”

“You never spoke to me. You were always hanging out with your little group of friends and you didn’t want to talk to me.”

That’s a bit of a revelation.

Wilhelm turns toward him, taking a breath, “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Sure. Why not? Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“Honestly I was really shy Simon.” There's a long pause before Wilhelm admits it out loud, “I thought you were way too cool to want to talk to me.”

It’s now Simon’s turn to laugh, “Me? Cool? What the fuck are you on about.”

“You didn’t care about what people thought about you…and you had really good grades and were really talented and it was like everything they said against you you were just stronger than all of it. You were so impressive——“

“I did care.” The words are soft and unsure. Wilhelm looks over at him and blinks. “I cared a lot. About what they said..and thought about me.”

There’s a sad, shadowed look in the man's expression and Wilhelm feels something like clarity register with him. Maybe Simon hadn’t been as cool and unaffected as he had once thought he was.

“Me too.” He says softly, seeing Simon in a different light suddenly. 

What if Simon had felt just as lonely and out of place as he had back then? What if all of that confidence and strength had just been a way of protecting himself? 

Fuck he's an idiot.

Suddenly he realizes that Simon is much closer than he was before, Wilhelm Stares at him for a moment, eyes widening. From this close up he can see the tired lines in the other's face but he’s so fucking beautiful even with the shadows that cling to his eyes and the slightly pale sheen to his brow.

“Do you really want to keep talking about high school or can I kiss you?”

His breath catches in his throat, body burning in response to the words. The tension builds quickly, thick like the tide that pulls them together and he feels his heart pounding in his chest as he nods. “Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Simon’s hand goes into his hair pulling him close as their lips crash together, slick and messy. He tastes the alcohol the other has been drinking, but he kisses with heat and sparks and pretty soon he isn’t noticing anything except how good it feels.

Fuck. It feels really good.

Simon kisses with such intensity that it makes his body respond in a way he didn’t even realize it could. It’s as though every nerve, every cell is on fire where he touches him.

Wilhelm's hands tangle into the other's curls, god he’s always wanted to touch them, always imagined what they would feel like, if they were thick and unwieldy or soft, slipping through his fingers like silk. It’s something in between both, he realizes, as his fingers tighten reflexively in response to the electricity racing beneath his skin where Simon’s needy hands drag over him. 

He’s about to loosen his grip but the other moans loudly, the sound vibrating through him. It’s one of the fucking hottest things he’s heard and he does it again to test if that’s what pulled it out of him and see if he can get him to do it again.

“Fuck.” Simon keens, letting his head fall back slightly and Wilhelm's eyes go to his elegant neck, he wants to taste the skin there, wants to make him moan and feel the vibrations of it with his tongue as it escapes him.

Wilhelm drops his lips to the curve between his shoulder and neck and kisses him, not so gently, with teeth and tongue and lets his fingers grip at his curls, feeling satisfaction curl through his stomach as the man makes a noise that’s so obscene it goes straight to his cock.

In response, Simon is touching him everywhere it feels like, fingers searching beneath his shirt, burning trails of desire in every single place he can find. Wilhelm sucks in a sharp breath when he feels his hand smooths over his cock, which is embarrassingly hard and straining against his pants. 

Simon takes a shuddering breath, palming it through the fabric, “You’re so hard…” he murmurs with a soft laugh, pulling back, taking his turn on Wilhelms exposed neck. He swears he can feel his lips forming a smirk, “Just how big are you?”

There must be some kind of static or white noise in his mind because he’s so fucking gone. The feeling of Simon touching him, his lips claiming him and the leftover buzz of the alcohol in his blood is intoxicating, making him feel like he’s lost in a sea of nothing but white, blinding heat.  

“Simon—“ he gasps as the other pulls him back to his lips by his chin, demanding and insistent. 

Simon climbs into his lap and Wilhelm moans into their kiss as the other man grinds their hips together, panting open-mouthed. Wilhelm chances a look at him, at his slightly glazed-over eyes and the flush that’s bloomed deeper and dusky over his cheeks. Simon looks wrecked and desperate and Wilhelm can’t breathe when he leans forward, nipping at his bottom lip before kissing along the curve of his jaw up to murmur into the shell of his ear, “I really really want to fuck you.” 

It’s hard to draw air into his lungs, much less think rationally, and there’s a sound that spills out between them, faint like a whine that he isn’t sure which of them actually made.

He’s trying desperately to think with a clear head, which is hard under the influence of the alcohol he’s been drinking and how painfully turned on he is. “Simon—-“ he gasps, “Wait—-“

“Or do you want to fuck me?” Simon whispers, rolling his hips against him, their erections creating the most delicious friction, he can’t help the way his hips raise in response and he moans again, panting. Fuck, fuck…

“Simon wait—-“

The other man stops immediately and pulls back and Wilhelm tries to catch his breath, feeling shaky and flushed and hot all over his body. His cock is so hard that it’s leaking, his whole body wound like a spring and he wants nothing more than to split the other open above him, to take him just like this. Or hell, Simon can have him here, pressed up against the couch, but—

Simon’s drunk, he’s been drinking a lot, they both have and this, it shouldn’t happen like this. 

Simon has stilled and gone quiet, staring down at him with irises blown wide with desire, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. The things that Wilhelm wants to do to him, the things he would let him do.

“You…you have no idea how badly I want this.” He manages to get out, it’s so hard to say the words, to stop him when he is looking at him like this, breathing hard and looking debauched above him when he can feel the evidence of his want pressed against him. “But—“

“But?” The other man murmurs, watching him. 

“You’ve been drinking Simon. A lot…and so have I. It’s just…I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

The other man stares at him and blinks with a frown that crosses his face. His eyes are glazed over but Wilhelm’s not sure if it’s from want or from the champagne. There’s a long moment that passes in silence and then Simon slips off of him, inelegant and a little clumsy. “Right. Well.” 

Wilhelm sees him reach for the champagne bottle and considers stopping him but knows it’s not his place. Simon is a grown man and Wilhelm doesn’t know what his relationship with alcohol is. Maybe this is just a one-off time where he’s had too much, he himself has certainly had those as well.

“I’m sorry.” He says and Simon looks over at him, his cheeks are still flushed and Wilhelm can see he's still turned on, but there’s something loose about him, the way he moves when he shrugs and shifts boneless back down to the floor. 

“Nah. You’re probably right. I get it.” He frowns. “At least one of us is the responsible one I guess. Im pretty pathetic aren’t I? It was like everything went wrong at the same time. I broke up with him….and… ” 

He watches as Simon cuts himself off by biting his lip, a pained expression crossing his face before he shakes his head, running his hand over his face a few times.

“You’re not pathetic.” He says softly, he doesn’t really know what's going on with the other man, but he feels his heart twist all the same. Seeing Simon sad and small like this is a new experience, seeing him be vulnerable makes him want to promise him that he will help him fight his demons. But in the end, they are still strangers and Wilhelm doesn’t know if he would be this open with him if he weren’t under the influence of the alcohol in his bloodstream.

 Simon leans his head back and sighs before taking another swig, there’s a cracked-looking smile on his lips when he looks at him again, “Please. I know that's not true. You don’t have to be nice to me.”

“Simon that's not—I know what it’s like. To feel like everything is falling apart and like your whole world is slipping away from you. It’s not pathetic to feel that way. It’s okay to need time to process things, it comes out in a lot of different ways.” And he means those words, hopes that he can somehow reach him in the mire of his self-doubt.

Simon stares at him, dark eyes widening slightly before his gaze slides back to the bottle in his lap. He chuckles, but the sound is without humor and then he sighs, “You’re nicer than I thought.” 

There's a small smile on his lips, but it's strained, Wilhelm watches the emotions that pass over his features, its as though he’s met a completely new person. The Simon he remembers from school was never this expressive, he had always closely guarded his emotions, something that Wilhelm is realizing was most likely a defense mechanism more than the air of confidence he had always interpreted it as.

Simon leans toward him a bit, the open expression is gone now, replaced by a teasing smirk and he seems sure of himself again, almost as though that moment had never happened, “You sure you don’t want to fuck me? I’ll let you.” 

Wilhelm’s eyes widen slightly, feeling a shiver run down his spine, but now he’s more decided and knows that the other isn’t really in the right state to continue this. It feels wrong; like he would be taking advantage of him in his moment of vulnerability.

“I think we’ve had too much champagne for that…but here.” He reaches out and grabs Simon’s phone out of his pocket, where he had felt it earlier, and puts his number in. Simon pulls it away from him before he can finish the entry with his name and blinks at the screen before looking back at him. 

“It’s my number. If you decide you want to do this again, when you’re sober, let me know.”

Simon grins at him, a little lazily. The champagne bottle slips from his fingers a bit but he manages to catch it before it falls and laughs. “Wow. I have Wille’s number in my phone.”

Yeah, he’s definitely wasted. Wilhelm can’t really believe he hadn’t noticed it before, but he’s so glad he’s stopped them before they had gone much further. Hooking up tipsy is one thing, but he’s really too drunk for the lines to be clear and Wilhelm isn’t the kind of person who would want to test that. 

“I didn’t realize you were such a gentleman,” Simon murmurs and closes his eyes.

Wilhelm catches him as he leans too far to the side, gently supporting him as he looks toward the door.

“Do you…hey isn’t your sister here?” He asks, realizing that the other seems to be crashing a bit and it’s probably a good idea to see if he can find who he came to the party with, “Did you come here with her?”

Simon nods, eyes still closed. “She’s around somewhere.”

“Maybe we should go find her, you should probably go home. Do you know if she was drinking?”

“Probably not a lot .” He says softly, eyes opening, “Wow there’s three of you….that’s hot.”

Still supporting him by the shoulder, Wilhelm sends a message to Felice asking about Sara and she replies after a moment that the girl is with her.

“Hey, your sister is with Felice and can take you home yeah?” He stands and extends a hand, which Simon isn’t quite able to take. Instead Wilhelm reaches down to take his arm, helping him up as he stumbles a bit but thankfully doesn’t fall.

“I’ll take you to her, alright?”

Simon nods, leaning on him, his weight solid and warm and Wilhelm slides an arm around his waist to help him along. He gently disentangles the almost empty second bottle of champagne and leaves it on the floor helping him into the hall as he looks for Sara or Felice somewhere within the party.

“Mmm, you smell good.” Simon turns his face into his neck and he shivers a bit remembering the way it felt to have his lips and teeth there.

“You’re going to need a lot of water and some painkillers tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“You’re gonna have a hangover I would expect.”

“Hmmm maybe…hmmm…”

He sees Felice and Sara as they near the end of the hallway and the girls come over to him, looking over Simon. Felice seems worried, but Sara just looks exasperated. 

“How much did he drink?” Felice asks in surprise and Wilhelm makes a face.

“Like nearly one and a half bottles of Champagne from what I could tell…I have no idea how much he normally—-“

“He doesn’t usually drink.” Sara cuts him off with a frown, “But he’s…well he’s going through some stuff.”

It tracks. Mentioning his break up, the cryptic way he was talking tinged in self-doubt and shadows of misery. It’s not his place to press her for more information, but he can’t help but wonder if there was something else, something deeper that he was struggling with. 

Wilhelm adjusts him on his shoulder and looks over where his head is lolling to the side. He’s not quite asleep, he’s humming softly, but his eyes are closed and he seems in his own world.

“I should take him home.” Sara frowns.

“I would offer to drive but I didn’t bring my car and I’ve been drinking,” Wilhelm explains and Felice steps forward.

“I’ll call an Uber. And we can take him to my place, no worries.” She looks over at Wilhelm.

“Do you need my help? He’s heavier than he looks.”

Felice chuckles and looks over at Sara who shrugs. 

“It might help. I don’t want to drop him or something accidentally.” Simon’s sister says practically.

“Are you sure Wille?” Felice frowns, looking reproachful, “You don't have to leave the party—“

“I was gonna go soon anyway.” He says, “It’s really fine, I don't mind.” it’s only partially true, he wasn’t actually on his way out, but he’s not lying when he says he doesn’t mind helping.

“Okay, that’s what we will do then.” Felice pulls up the app, ordering a car as their group heads toward the exit.

“Oh I forgot to tell Nisse—“ Wilhelm looks around and Felice waves him off.

“Don’t bother, he's off hooking up with some guy he found—Isak something. I'll text him later.”

Wilhelm laughs, “Tall? Blond?”

“Yeah? Oh wait…is that Isak from last New Year? The one you—“

Wilhelm nodded, chuckling and readjusting Simon once more who scrunches his face up cutely and grips on his shirt.

“Whoa—“ Wilhelm murmurs as the man sways a bit, righting him as they wait at the end of the long driveway.

“Where was he? When you found him?” Sara asks, peering over at the two of them once he helps her brother into the car. Felice goes to sit in the front to direct the driver and he crawls in from the other side.

“Are we in a car?” Simon murmurs saving Wilhelm from having to answer as he blinks blearily and is confused as the car pulls into the road.

“We are going back to Felice’s.” Sara frowns, “Why did you drink so much? You smell like booze.”

“I drank booze that’s why I smell like it.” Simon turns and blinks at Wilhelm, brows furrowed together. “What are you doing here?” 

“Making sure you get home.”

“I should kiss you again.”

Wilhelm meets Felice's eyes in the rearview mirror, wide and surprised. Sara leans over to look at him with a raised eyebrow,

Simon giggles, “Just kidding, I'm just messing around. Unless you want to…” he giggles again and Wilhelm meets Sara’s slowly narrowing gaze.

“I’m tired. And thirsty.”

“I’d say,” Felice mutters from the front and Wilhelm puts his face in his hand, leaning against the window as the car drives through the countryside to where Felice lives. 

Wilhelm helps Sara get Simon into Felice’s Apartment, laying him down on his side in one of her guest rooms. Sara thanks him perfunctorily, taking a glass of water and a box of painkillers into the room.

On the way out Felice stops him, grabbing his arm. 

“What did Simon mean? Was he serious?” She asks as he is putting on his shoes. Wilhelm swallows, keeping his gaze down as he finishes.

“Wille?”

He casts a gaze at the room where Simon is and frowns before looking back at her. “Simon and I…kissed.”

Felice’s eyes widen and she grips his shoulder, grinning widely, “Oh my god!? Wille? Wait…just kissed?”

“I stopped it…before it went too far. He seemed really drunk and I had been drinking and—“

“Yeah, that makes sense. But wow…High school fantasy finally realized, making out with the cute choir boy you were crushing on?”

Wilhelm rubs his temple, looking down at his feet before looking back up at her with a bashful kind of grin. “Yeah, maybe a bit.”

His friend grabs his arm and squeals, “Ah! So what does it mean? Does it mean anything?”

It’s a question he doesn’t really have an answer to. They had barely spoken to each other before things had gotten…intense. And it hadn’t really meant anything, but he hopes…really does, that Simon might use the number he had left in his phone and call him. 

“It doesn’t really mean anything. But…who knows.” 

“Yeah.” Felice smiles up at him before hugging him tightly and squeals happily, “Who knows?”

 ___________

It’s a good thing that Wilhelm hadn’t taken his car today, because he leaves the bar a little more than tipsy and in a strange, reflective mood.

He had met both of his friends at their favorite place, a little vintage-style bar located in a boutique hotel close to the waterfront. The place is tucked away into the side of the hotel with walls of dark wood and flanked by bookcases and there are only a few tables and it’s intimate and private feeling. 

They had ended up there one night just looking for a place to sit that wasn’t overcrowded and noisy. It’s conveniently located in between all of their workplaces, so after a while, it had just become their spot. It’s where they go when they just want a moment together, the three of them. To talk shit or commiserate or sometimes just to reflect.

Felice and Nils were his closest friends. Of course, he had a wider friend group than just the three of them, but both of them had become family to him in different ways, and eventually, he had been what brought the two of them together.

It’s stupid maybe, but Nils had been the first queer person he had known, besides Simon of course. Wilhelm had always seen Simon as different, separate somehow. He had come to Hillerska open and apologetic, not giving a damn about all of their unspoken rules and expectations. Simon wasn't locked into behaving a certain way or socializing with certain people. Simon’s entire future wasn’t already decided for him. Wilhelm had wanted nothing more than to be like Simon, to not care what people thought of him, and be able to break out of his family’s iron grip. Simon was beautiful and free and intimidating in a way that made his heart race and made him want to be braver if it meant the other boy would notice him. 

 Wilhelm had wanted nothing more than to be like Simon, but he had realized that in many ways he was a lot more like Nils. Hiding things from the people who were supposed to care for him. Lying about things just so that he doesn’t stick out, doing just enough to blend in with everyone else. Wilhelm had had no inclination that he and Nils had anything in common. The boy was a third-year student who was friendly enough with August, his cousin, but the two of them hadn’t really had many conversations. It was toward the end of their first year that he realized Nils was hiding something behind a fake exterior, just the same way he was. 

Finding out about Nils had been an accident, one day after seeing his notifications while the other was taking a shower after rowing practice.

He still remembers the surprise, the almost frozen panic he had felt when he had heard the notification and seen several messages come in with the Grindr logo. The fact that he was even familiar with the logo was enough to make him feel like his face was going to burst into flames. 

Wilhelm had wanted desperately to reach out and ask Nils about it, but he couldn’t do that without revealing he had seen his private messages and he still wasn’t ready at that point to get into a discussion about his own sexuality. 

Wilhelm had known for a long time that he wasn’t like the other boys, or like the others in his family. He wasn’t his brother Erik, who brought home a different pretty girl every other month and wasn’t like his cousin who always had something inappropriate to say about their female classmates.

Wilhelm liked girls, he found them pretty, but Wilhelm also liked boys. Thought about them, wondered what it would be like to kiss another boy, to touch them. He had kissed girls and sometimes he wondered what it would feel like, if it would be different to kiss a boy. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to kiss Simon. 

Sometimes, and recalling this brings a hot flush of shame to his cheeks, when he kissed girls he imagined he was actually kissing him. Imagined fuller lips, a strong sharp jaw, larger hands, and bonier fingers pressing into him with more strength. Imagined tugging his fingers through his curls and pressing himself to the hard lines of his body.

Maybe if he was braver, more confident, more sure of himself. But he could barely talk to Simon and the idea of kissing him had felt like nothing more than a fantasy.

And then in his third year, he met someone, And it had changed so much , the entire trajectory of his life had veered off severely in ways that were both good and bad.  

Alexander had transferred to Hillerska in their second year. He was shy and quiet, from “new money” as some of the boys liked to disparage him. But Wilhelm had recognized something similar in Alexander as he had in himself, and in Nils.

In third year they had grown closer. Their relationship had been quiet, hidden touches and secretive glances. Experimental really in the sense that neither of them knew what they were doing, but exciting in a way that it had never really been before. They had both been careful to keep it a secret between the two of them, knowing that it would be chaos if certain people were to find out. They may have lived in a progressive country, in a progressive time, but there were many things that remained difficult to navigate in the society that they were a part of. 

Wilhelm had never felt ashamed of the way he felt, but he was realistic. He knew their circle never really allowed for someone to stray out of the lines, and he knew his family would never support him. In Alex’s case, his family had worked hard to get to where they were in life and the boy hadn’t wanted to bring any stress or trouble to his parents who were also, like Wilhelm’s, quite religious.

So hiding it, keeping it behind closed doors and staying quiet had been beneficial for both of them.

And then on the evening of his graduation, everything had crashed and burned.

The buzz of his phone pulls him out of his thoughts. He’s on the bus, leaning his forehead onto the window. The glass is cold and it’s dark outside. His stop isn’t far and thankfully he hasn’t missed it, but he realizes with a start that he has lost track of time.

Taking up his phone he sees the time and then sees the notification staring back at him from the home screen.

Simmesimme liked your photo.

His eyes widen a bit and he taps on the notification to see that the one in question is an old photo, from that dark time after graduation and when he had been scrambling trying to hold his life together feeling lost and directionless. When his friends had really stepped up for him, sometimes he wonders if he would even be here today without them. 

Wilhelm hates this photo. He’s thought about deleting it before, he's gone back and forth about it more than once, but he always resolves to leave it there as a reminder of where he is now versus back then.

When he checks he doesn’t see that Simon has liked it and he realizes then he must have liked and then unliked it. It hits him then that Simon must have scrolled through his account for a long time to get to this photo. 

Is Simon stalking his Instagram?

There’s just enough alcohol left over in his system to ignore any reservations about messaging him, so he does and There’s just enough alcohol left over in his system to give him a certain flirtatious edge to his messages. 

He wonders if he’s overstepped, or sounded too familiar but he’s pleasantly surprised when the other indulges him. 

As he finally gets back to his apartment, he sees the message that he’s sent and stares at it, pausing just as he’s opening his front door.

Simmesimme

😏 that’s not all I know how to do

Wilhelm pushes into his dark apartment, toeing off his shoes in the entrance, feeling the grin on his own lips, the laugh that’s just there in his chest. 

He takes a moment, biting his lip before he responds. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but he feels brave.

Me

Oh is that right? Care to enlighten me?😉

Simon doesn’t read his message. Wilhelm takes a shower and gets ready to collapse in bed and by the time he’s clean and laying with his back against the mattress he checks the chat once more. The message stays unread and unanswered. He sighs, leaning back to stare up into the ceiling of his bedroom, maybe they’ve crossed some kind of boundary the other isn’t comfortable with. Yesterday he had told him that he was in a relationship, but then again, it had been Simon who had turned the conversation in this direction.

Wilhelm runs a finger lightly over his bottom lip, remembering in the wistful, reflective state he’s been in this entire evening, the memory of how kissing Simon had felt. He closes his eyes and thinks back to the way his hands had felt, how insistent and strong he had been lost in the throes of his own desire. You would think considering this had happened almost a year ago he wouldn’t remember everything in such sharp detail, but he does. 

He remembers it like a movie scene playing out in his head, his body remembers it as well, remembers it with curls of heat that wrap their way around and tighten in the core of him. 

“Hell.” He murmurs into the emptiness of his room.

Running a hand over his face he takes a deep breath, sighing out a breath as he tries to force himself to calm down. 

Fuck it’s been too long since he got laid. 

Wilhelm makes a noise of frustration and turns onto his side. For some reason, he doesn’t touch himself, though he considers it for a moment. It feels strange now that Simon is back in his life in a way. Before it was more of a fantasy he could lean back on when he didn’t have to think about interacting with him, but now it feels like he’s doing it behind his back.

He closes his eyes and tries to relax into the mattress, knowing that it’s going to be hard to fall asleep in the restless and fitful state he is in. The combination of alcohol and the constantly circling thoughts competing for attention in his mind ensures that it’s a long time before he finally drifts off. 

Chapter Text

Simon stares at the message from Rosh and feels a sudden rush of panic claw up through the pit of his stomach.

“Oh shit.” 

He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be at the apartment to let the movers in. Originally, Ayub was supposed to be home to do it, but last week he had told them that he had a teachers meeting that had come up after classes the same day so Simon had promised he’d be there instead. 

Last night after they had finished the pizza and procrastinated playing FIFA before they had finally finished packing the last of Rosh’s things, moving the boxes into the living room where they had been waiting to be picked up the next day.

Rosh had gone home with Maddie that night to their new place and it was odd to see into the empty room, remembering where his friends' weights, trophies, and football cleats had once taken up space. 

Maybe he had been purposefully blocking it out, the impending reality that their apartment was going to be one person smaller. 

It was odd to wake up that morning without the sound of the shower running after Rosh’s morning run, without their morning playlist and the sound of the blender pulsing up spinach and frozen mango and protein powder into a horridly green liquid that they had been trying to get Simon to drink for years.

“I don’t drink salads thank you. ” He had always said as if he actually even eats vegetables in any form in the first place. Rosh had been on his ass for years about his childish palette and he should probably be grateful that they wouldn’t be hanging over his shoulder every time he eats at home from now on, but Simon can’t lie, he’s going to miss it in a strange way. He’s going to miss the way they left sticky notes in the fridge when staples like milk and eggs needed replacing and miss the way they always ironed his clothes with their own (despite the fact that Simon never actually did it himself).

Walking into the kitchen now Simon is almost a little nostalgic looking at the clean counters and everything tidy and put in its place. There isn’t even a single hint of that icky green smoothie on the backsplash, nor blender parts in the sink. It’s almost a little too clean for his liking.

The apartment had felt just that bit lonelier and emptier without Rosh there. 

Simon looks at their group chat again, at the last messages sent between them from this morning.

Me

I miss you :(

I didn’t have to clean up dried green gunk

off of the counters this morning

Rosh⚽️

Sounds like you should be

pretty happy about that

Me

:(

Me

Rosh

Rosh⚽️

?

Me

I miss youuu

Me

Love you 

Rosh⚽️

💀

Me

:(

Rosh⚽️

Okay I miss you too. 🙄

Rosh⚽️

And I love you too

Me

Aww Roshhhh

Rosh⚽️

You little nerd

Me

Ah 

Me

For a second I thought Maddie

had changed you

but then you came back to me

Rosh⚽️

Don’t get your hopes up 

Oh, Rosh is going to take back those words when they realize how he’s forgotten the one thing he promised he would do. 

Biting his lip Simon looks down at the time on his phone frowning deeply when he realizes he's screwed. It’s fifteen until 3 pm, which means the movers are supposed to arrive at the apartment anytime now. It takes him a good forty minutes from the office to his doorstep so in conclusion: he’s so screwed.

Rosh had told him, multiple times, that he had to be there to let them in on time, or they would get charged for an extra hour. Simon is aware that this move has already cost his friend a lot more money than they had originally budgeted, so if they end up having to shell even more on these movers they hadn't even wanted to hire in the first place, Simon was going to have to figure out how to pay them back in the end. 

“Oh shit.” He curses out loud again as he hesitates in typing up a message to Rosh. How had he forgotten about this? They were literally talking last night about Rosh moving out and their things getting picked up. He really should have written it down or something, or set some kind of reminder.

Simon pushes back from his desk and starts to collect his things. He’s lucky that the company has a pretty flexible schedule, he can just log in later to finish up the last few things, or he can just come in half an hour earlier tomorrow. 

Maddie is looking at him from across the room as he moves around shoving things into his back. Hell, the last thing he needs is her to say something to Rosh and get them all wound up. He checks the time again and breathes out in frustration, there’s no way he’s going to make it fast enough with the train or the bus, but the idea of calling an Uber makes him cringe. It’s going to cost so much money to call a car out to where he lives from here, that’s not an option either.

He’s going to have to get in contact with Rosh and ask for more time. 

“Everything okay?” 

He looks up and spots Wilhelm looking at him. Simon hadn’t exactly been avoiding him today, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he had purposely been using different routes around the office so he didn’t have to pass his desk. 

Wilhelm has his tote over his shoulder and he’s wearing a luridly green checkered flannel over his T-shirt. There’s a scarf in his other hand and Simon realizes suddenly that he must be on his way home.

He feels himself flush slightly, pinned by the other's attention after managing to avoid him all day, remembering with a bit of a guilty conscience the Instagram messages that neither one of them has mentioned or acknowledged. 

(Hell did he just admit to himself that he was avoiding him?) 

“Oh…it’s just…I was supposed to let some movers in my apartment. One of my roommates…”He pauses, realizing then that Wilhelm would probably have an idea of who Rosh is considering he works with Maddie. 

He’s not sure how close Wille and Maddie actually are but seeing as how Rosh hadn’t realized that “rich nepo baby Wilhelm” was the same Wilhelm as the one Maddie worked with (not that Simon had either) he's guessing not as close as he is with his other friends. Though to be fair, Rosh is a busy mother fucker and the two of them have been dating now for only half a year. 

“You know Rosh right?” He asks and Wilhelm furrows his brow looking back at Maddie who is typing away at her desk.

“Maddie’s partner? I’ve heard about them…Wait….they are your roommate?”

He nods, “We’re like childhood friends from Bjärstad.” 

Wille’s eyes widen slightly before a soft chuckle escapes him, “Damn…small world isn’t it.” 

“Yeah well,” Simon laughs humorlessly, Wille has no fucking idea, “Rosh is supposed to move out today  and I forgot that the movers were coming to get their stuff and now I’ll never make it there in time with the train and —“

“I can drive you.”

Simon stops talking and refocuses on him. “Huh?”

“Seriously. I’m leaving now anyway and don’t have anywhere to be. It’ll be faster than having to wait on public transport.”

He's not surprised at the information that Wilhelm has a car, considering how notoriously wealthy his family is; old money and all. Simon knows there’s underground parking for these buildings just down the way, but he hadn’t seen him going in that direction yesterday. 

He glances at the clock on the wall, sucking in a sharp breath when he sees the time reflected back at him. Simon knows that it will be much faster and more direct if he lets the other drive him and when he looks back at Wilhelm, the man looks genuine and slightly concerned and he can’t think of a reason to say no.

 “Okay…if you’re sure. You don’t have to”

“I don’t mind. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have offered.” The taller man smiles, catching the way Simon looks nervously over at Maddie, “Well let’s not waste time then.” 

_________

Simon isn’t sure what he was expecting but Wilhelm’s car is very normal, much more so than he would have expected from someone with the last name Cronstedt. 

It’s a pretty old model, probably early 2000s, and the paint is a bit faded and looks to be chipping away. The car’s exterior itself is equally as worn, a bit beat up with obvious signs of use and wear. Wille has a single sticker on the rear of his car and there’s a pair of chunky plastic yellow sunglasses hanging from the front mirror.

However, the inside is surprisingly cleaner than he had expected based on the man’s desk and except for the few things floating around in the backseat, it seems as though it’s pretty organized. Simon climbs in, looking around before he stashes his bag by his feet.

Wilhelm slides into the driver's seat and reaches into the back to put his tote with his laptop behind them.

“What, no Tesla?” Simon jokes reaching for the seatbelt as Wille gets situated.

The other man looks over at him, with a slightly confused look, “Tesla?”

He feels heat rise to his cheeks when he realizes Wilhelm is genuinely confused and his joke has flown completely over his head. The words sit in the air for a moment before he can see the other man's expression change in understanding.

“I think a Tesla is a little out of my price range.” He snorts and Simon can’t help it really, he can only continue to stare at him, because as he remembers it, the Cronstedt family owns a literal estate with stables and luxury cars, and summer properties in the Meditteranean.

“Oh?”

Wilhelm makes an understanding noise, “Oh yeah. You wouldn’t know.” He laughs a bit as he puts the car in drive, it’s a manual so he takes hold of the stick and guides the car into reverse, checking his mirrors before he presses on the gas. “My family cut me off.”

He looks over at Simon’s surprised expression and gives him a cheeky grin as the information starts to sink in.

“Oh shit…I’m sorry?”

Wille shrugs as they start toward the exit of the garage, “Don’t be.” He says fiddling with the heating controls on the dash. “Sorry the heating is kind of shitty, it’s so old they don’t really make the parts to fix it anymore.”

Simon is still digesting this piece of the puzzle that is this new version of Wille as the other pulls onto the broad street, joining the flow of traffic. 

“Aux?” Wille asks him, gesturing to the cable that Simon realizes is laying in front of them. Simon doesn’t know what to say, much less what to play so he shakes his head and Wilhelm reaches over him keeping one eye on the road while he attempts to set up his music. 

They swerve slightly and Simon makes an executive decision to snatch the phone out of his hand, glaring at him slightly. It sets him on edge to see him messing with these things as the cars weave around them.“Oh my god, I’ll do it, just tell me what you want to listen to.” 

“Oh shit sorry.” Wille laughs softly, “Bad habit.”

“You shouldn’t do this while you’re driving. You’ll get in an accident.” He feels himself chiding, realizing how much like his mother he sounds. 

Wille doesn’t look at him but he smiles and nods, “You’re right. Sorry, Simon. Uh if you could just find my driving playlist.”

He goes back to the phone, looking through his Spotify frowning, “Wille you have like six driving playlists…wow do you not organize these?”

Sure enough, there are several playlists labeled “driving playlist” some separated by numbers and some by mood. 

“I mean to, but I always forget.”

“Well… you have driving playlist happy…driving playlist angry… driving playlist sad…driving playlist no.1 …” he scrolls through with his finger, being nosy as he looks at the other names jammed in his list. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason and Simon has no idea how he can remember where anything is.

“Happy one,” Wille speaks up and he makes a sound of compliance as he scrolls back up to the top and presses play. 

As the music begins to play he snorts, looking down at the list of songs feeling a sense of amusement take him.

“What?” Wille looks over at him grinning a bit.

“Harvey Danger?” Simon raises an eyebrow, turning to look back at him as the loud, crashing sound of “Flagpole Sitta” comes through the speakers. 

Wille laughs hard, his eyes turning into happy crescents as he glances over at him, “I’m a rebel and I like 90’s music, what can I say.” 

“We weren’t even conscious in the 90s, Wille,” Simon murmurs softly looking over at him with a shake of his head.

“Hey it’s my car, I get to pick the soundtrack.” Wille reaches over and turns up the music with a sharp grin on his profile and Simon laughs leaning back in the seat, eyes slipping back over to the street, watching as the cars pass them on the other side.

“ Been around the world and found

That only stupid people are breeding

The cretins cloning and feeding

And I don't even own a TV ..”

An amused smile tug at his lips as he hears the other start singing along loudly and over the song coming from the stereo. Simon looks over at him again with an entertained rise of his brow, taking in the way his eyes skirt over the road, head bopping to the brash alt-rock. It’s so strange he wouldn’t have imagined that Wilhelm would be like this at all. Singing along to 90s songs with dirty lyrics in his old beat-up car. 

Simon takes in his profile in the driver's seat framed by the setting sun. Wilhelm is tapping his fingers along the top of the steering wheel, the stud in his ear glints in the light, the jacket pushed aside just enough to see the layered necklaces over his T-shirt. The light hits him just so that Simon can see the pale freckles and faded pockmarks on his cheeks, his hair is messy and Simon wants to reach forward and run a hand through it to try and tame it a bit.

The thought surprises him a bit and of course, it’s at that moment that Wilhelm looks at him from the corner of his eyes and he grins in that crooked and playful way that makes Simon’s stomach do a little flip and hell it’s a lot more attractive than it has any business being.

Simon looks away from him sharply, focusing back on the road as they follow the directions from his phone where he had entered his address earlier.

It seems as though Simon can’t keep his eyes off of him for very long before soon the song changes into something equally loud and offbeat and he looks back to him as he nods along to the music, eyes on the road as he shifts gears and turns smoothly down another road. 

The questions he had been momentarily distracted from come back then as he considers him. Wille had said he had been cut off from his family, and honestly, it had surprised him so much that Simon hadn’t really had any follow-up questions.

It’s not really his business and the other man hadn’t offered more of an explanation, but still, it’s another thing to add to the growing mystery that is Wilhelm Cronstedt, a person who is nearly unrecognizable from the person he had known back at Hillerska. 

Simon knows people change after high school, grow up, and figure out who they are. It seems like Wilhelm…no Wille (somehow Wilhelm doesn’t seem to fit him anymore, not really) has found himself over the years while Simon feels as though he’s completely lost touch with who he always was, and now he’s lost and directionless.

It’s ironic in a way.

Here Wille is, this whole new confident person, and Simon barely even recognizes himself. 

As if sensing his eyes on him, Wilhelm looks over. “What’s up? Are we okay on time?”

“Oh yeah…that’s not...” Simon blinks feeling a bit out on the spot, he frowns softly when the other looks back at him briefly in confusion. “We’re good, they haven’t even called me yet.”

Wilhelm nods as he turns down another road into a more residential-looking area. “Good, we should be there soon, at least if Google Maps isn’t lying to me in an attempt to keep things interesting.”

Simon snorts looking out as the surroundings become more and more familiar.“Well I know where we are now so I don’t think you need to worry too much.” 

The building he lives in becomes visible once they turn and he leans forward in the seat pointing it out, “Yeah turn there, it’s that complex.” 

Wilhelm pulls into the parking lot and Simon directs him where to park. It’s fortuitous timing because not even a minute after Wille puts the car in park, Simon’s phone lights up with a call from an unknown number. 

The movers are just behind them, driving in with their truck and he steps out of the car, waving at them before bending back down to lean into the car.

“Thanks so much, Wille. You’re a lifesaver.” He breathes out in relief, genuinely so grateful that he stepped up tonight. “Really I owe you.”

The expression on his face shifts, eyes widening a bit before Simon sees him straighten and cough.

“It’s really no problem Simon. I’m just glad I drove to the office today so I could help you out.” 

He feels himself smile a bit. “Yeah…” from the corner of his periphery, he can see the truck stopping and two men getting out of the front, loitering a bit while they wait for him. 

“Listen, let me know what I can do to thank you,” Simon says genuinely.

“Well…” He pauses as though considering something, “ I wouldn’t say no to you buying me lunch next week.” 

Simon catches the other man’s gaze and blinks before he feels his own lips draw upwards into a smile, “You know what…sure I think that’s a good trade.” 

Simon laughs a bit as Wilhelms expression melts into something easy and open.

He feels like he should say something else, as they hold each other's gaze, but he’s not sure what it is that he wants to say. The moment hangs there, stretching longer until it begins to turn strange and he can sense the annoyance of the men behind him, hear them cough, and shuffle their feet.

Finally, it’s Wilhelm that breaks the odd spell, grinning at him, “Well I guess you should let them in now. Have a nice weekend yeah? I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Right. Um, you too…and drive safely. Don’t fucking mess with your phone on the road okay?”

“Okay okay, I won’t.” The other man laughs and waves at him as Simon shuts the door and takes a step back. He hears the best from the 90s hip hop blaring inside Wille pulls out of the parking space and waves before driving off.

Simon smirks, shaking his head as he watches his car disappear around the corner.

When he turns toward the truck he realizes with a start that Marcus is standing just outside of the entrance, watching him.

The first thought he has is what the hell is he doing here?

He jogs up to where the larger man is and gives him a hurried greeting and a confused look before turning to the two men beside the truck with the clipboard. 

Normally they would rent a truck and move things on their own, but Rosh owns a few things that are difficult to move namely a very heavy safe, gym equipment, and some art they wanted professionally packed and transported.

He talks to the movers and lets them up, propping the door open. Rosh has messaged him that they will be there in about thirty minutes and to have them take out the cardboard boxes first and let them oversee the transportation of the tricky items. 

They start getting to work and Simon stands back to get out of their way as Marcus comes over to stand beside him.

“I thought you’d be a little happier to see me?” His boyfriend frowns looking over at him and Simon turns to look up into his frustrated expression.

“I don’t really understand why you’re here?”

The last time he had spoken with Marcus was their argument about his friend's birthday that was supposed to be happening tonight, but here he is instead. Instead of being happy about it, it just rubs Simon the wrong way. It bothers him that he hadn't asked or informed him beforehand that he would come.

Marcus frowns, “I just wanted to help you tonight. I know I gave you shit yesterday and I’m sorry.”

Simon stares ahead as the movers come in again, collecting more of the stacked cardboard boxes to load into the truck. He’s quiet, not sure what he’s supposed to say to him. It’s nice of him to do this. Right? That’s what people do when they care about each other, isn’t it? But for some reason, all he feels is a numb kind of apathy. 

“Simon I came here for you you could at least—-“ 

“I didn’t ask you to.” The words are said flat and tense. 

“Un-fucking-belieavable —-“ Marcus scoffs next to him and he sees from the corner of his eye how he shakes his head, his broad-shouldered posture angry and tense.

He’s saved from listening to more of his angry diatribe when Rosh and Maddie come in. Simon pushes himself off of the wall without a look back, to go and meet them, and as he approaches he sees how Rosh’s eyes move from him to the figure of his boyfriend standing behind him. Their expression is confused and when he gets closer they frown, gaze flickering between the two men before finally settling on Simon.

“Hey, thanks for letting them in. Everything going fine?”

Simon nods and gestures to where the majority of the boxes are gone. “They’ve made pretty quick work of all of this.”

Maddie nudges Rosh, leaning over and kissing them on the cheek before spinning off in the direction of the kitchen, calling back that she is going to grab a glass of water.

“What’s up with him?” Rosh gestures in the direction of Marcus who is sulking in the background.

“He came to help,” Simon murmurs with a shrug, looking back at Marcus who seems to realize they are talking about him and starts toward them.

“Well I guess gotta use The Hulk for something.” Rosh snorts, leaning in and murmuring under their breath which has Simon grinning a bit in amusement. 

“Hey, Rosh,” Marcus says as he falls into place, standing next to them. He slides a hand over Simon’s shoulder. The touch makes him bristle slightly, but Marcus doesn’t seem to notice he’s uncomfortable. 

“Hey.” 

Maddie slides in next to them, sipping the glass. “Are you one of the movers?” She says and Simon sees how Rosh tries to reign in their snort of amusement. Marcus shifts at his side and Simon can hear the frown in his voice when he speaks.

“No, not exactly. I’m here to help though.”

“Well great because I could use your...” Rosh looks him up and down and makes a vague gesture, “ Muscle to help us load the heavy stuff into the truck.”

Simon takes a step back with Maddie as the two get to work with movers to take down the remaining things. She takes his arm, tugging slightly as they head into Simon’s room, wordlessly understanding that they both want to get out of their way. 

Maddie lets go of him once the door is closed and she walks around his room, looking with interest at the things he has. His room is neat and organized, with books stacked on the bookshelf and a broad collection of CDs, vinyls, and other vintage music paraphernalia. He can see her inspecting the succulents he has lined up on his windowsill before heading over to the shelf with his comics and his small collection of figurines. She reaches out and trails the tips of her fingers over his little Koro-sensei figurine looking back at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"It's from Assassination Classroom..."

Maddie lets out a little laugh but there's nothing malicious in her expression when she grins at him, "You really are a nerd." 

Simon rolls his eyes as he watches her set it back down before crossing to the bed and flopping back against the mattress making herself comfortable in the center.

“You have a lot of recording equipment here.”

“Yeah, I know…” his computer and keyboard sit unused with a slight coating of dust over them. He knows his notebooks are stacked and pushed to the back of the drawer where they’ve sat unopened for over a year now. 

There's a pause before she speaks again, “So…Is that the boyfriend?”

He looks over at her with a brow raised, “What do you mean the boyfriend?”

“Rosh said he’s an asshole.” Maddie leans back on his mattress, a single eyebrow raised.

Simon frowns, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Oh, did they?”

He’s well aware that Rosh dislikes Marcus, they like to remind him that he’s emotionally manipulative and Simon has run out of excuses to defend the other man with. He bites his lip, leaning against his desk and looking across the room at her in the center of his bed.

“Mhmm.” Maddie drops the subject and tilts her head to consider him, “So you want to tell me why you left with Wille?” She asks and he swears he sees the ghost of a smirk hiding on her purple-stained lips.

Simon feels his eyes widen and a short burst of panic spread through him. “Hell…Maddie…” he groans, “look he offered to drive me because it would be faster…I was running a little behind don’t tell Rosh.”

She shrugs, twirling the end of her braid around her finger and grinning at him, “I thought you were a bit late. I won’t say anything. For the record, I don’t think Rosh would care since you were here anyway but I get it.”

“I know but I felt bad because they told me if I wasn’t here on time they would get charged for an extra hour.”

“Well, Wille to the rescue then.”

When she mentions Wilhelm again he goes to sit next to her on the bed, looking over at her and hesitating before he asks the question that's been burning in his mind since he first found out, “Hey Maddie do you know why Wille’s family cut him off?”

There’s a pause of silence and she shakes her head, “Actually…I don’t. Like we get along really well and we hung out in school but after third year he kind of dropped off the face of the planet for a bit and we lost touch. It wasn’t until we started working together that we started talking again. He’s really close with Felice and Nils if you remember him though so I’m sure they know. And he’s pretty open, you could always ask him if you really wanted to.”

“I know Maddie…but it feels weird to ask that when we aren’t really friends.”

She raises an eyebrow, “I mean he seems pretty fond of you. And you guys get along right?”

Simon sighs, “His friends made my life hell in school. He acts like he doesn’t remember that, and I know it was years ago, but I don’t know. I don’t really know him.”

“People change a lot, Simon. He’s changed a lot….and maybe he didn’t know. Honestly, he wasn’t that close with those people back at Hillerska anyway. He was always closest to our group. Felice and Stella and Fredrika.”

“He wasn’t close with them?” Simon looks at her like she has a second head, “But they were always together?”

She looks like she's considering something before she speaks next, “Wille’s brother kind of was a legend at Hillerska you know?” 

Maddie shrugs, sitting up straighter and looking at him with an open expression, “Wille was supposed to kind of take his place when he left, and like his family is super wealthy and important. Those guys never gave a shit about Wille. They just wanted to be in his family’s good graces. He’s not dumb, I think he was aware of that.”

Simon nods, biting his lip as she speaks. How incredibly off had he been about Wille this entire time? He had made so many opinions based on his own assumptions about what Wilhelms life was like, who his friends were, and how his family treated him, but he seems to have been completely wrong in many ways and it makes him feel a little sad because he wonders if he had tried to get to know him if things would have been different. He wonders if they could have been friends back then.

He doesn’t get much more time to dwell on this as Rosh calls for them from the living room and they both get up, going to see what’s going on.

Marcus is hauling away the base of Rosh’s weights with the movers, while Rosh stands back directing them. He raises an eyebrow and sees them turn to smirk back at him, obviously seeming to enjoy telling Marcus what to do.

Simon laughs behind his hand as they come over with a grin. 

“Well, that’s everything.” Rosh fishes through their pockets and Simon can hear the sound of the keys they pull out and place on his palm. “These are yours then.”

Closing his fingers around the metal, Simon looks at his friend and frowns softly. “You’re actually leaving me.”

“Sorry, but it was bound to happen eventually.” Rosh claps his shoulder with a look of exaggerated sympathy, “For what it’s worth I think you might enjoy not having me to try and drag you for a run at five am.”

Next to him, Maddie snorts, “You better not try that with me, babe.”

“See Rosh. Maddie won’t even entertain your habit of pulling your friends into your hobby, this is what you’re leaving us for.” He sighs dramatically, “What does she have that we don’t?”

There’s a moment of quiet and he looks back down as the two share a look. Maddie is smirking, twirling her braid and Rosh grins at him. 

“You sure you want to know that?”

“Oh my god I get it I get it.” Simon laughs sharply, pushing at his athletic friend's shoulder as they take a step back to right themself and then reach for Maddie’s hand.

“You and Ayub are welcome over whenever. I promise. And once we get things put together we are planning to have a little housewarming party, which obviously you have to come to.”

Simon smiles wide and leans forward to hug her, “Sure I’ll be there.”

“See you on Monday Simon.” Maddie lets go of Rosh’s hand to hug him back and then once they’ve let go she heads out of the door to wait by the van. As she’s leaving and he is leaning forward to hug Rosh as well, Simon sees Marcus return out of the corner of his eye.

“Take care friend,” Rosh murmurs by his ear, hugging him with a tight grip.

“I will, congratulations on the whole new girlfriend and new place thing. I hope you guys are really happy,”

“Thank you….and hey listen.” Rosh leans closer, dropping their voice in his ear, “If you ever need anything…let me know okay…anything.”

He squeezes them tighter and nods into their shoulder. Rosh smells clean, like soap and the laundry detergent they've been using for years. Simon sighs, struck again by how much he’s going to miss them, even though it’s all very melodramatic considering they are only going to be half an hour or so away. 

Finally, Rosh pulls back, claps him on the shoulder, and squeezes his hand before stepping away to their girlfriend. The couple wave as they head out the door, Maddie issuing a “Thanks Marcus” as somewhat of an afterthought. 

When the door closes it submerges the room and the two of them in quiet. After a beat, Marcus goes to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water for himself, knocking it back in a single motion. Simon hears the clink of the glass as Marcus sets it down in the sink and looks up to see the man bracing against the counter, looking down somewhere Simon can’t see from where he’s standing.

“Who was that?”

His boyfriend’s voice cuts through the uneasy quiet and Simon turns toward him slightly.

“What do you mean?”

Marcus catches his gaze and the larger man lets go of the counter, folding his arms over his chest and frowning. “The guy who dropped you off. Who was that?”

A feeling of exasperation goes through him and he furrows his brow, “My coworker drove me—-why?”

“Why didn't you take the bus?”

“He offered to drive me.” Simon knows he could probably explain about running late and being worried about Rosh getting charged for an extra hour, but his response is clipped and annoyed as Marcus continues to speak. He doesn’t have to justify his reasons for anything, it’s none of the man’s business, “Why are you even here anyway?”

His boyfriend stares at him and shakes his head, “Seriously? I come here to help you and I see some stranger dropping you off and when I ask about it you’re so defensive and then you make it sound like I inconvenienced you?”

“Stranger…I told you he works with me.” He ignored what he said about coming to help because he knows if he points out that he didn’t ask him for help in the first place it will only lead to more arguing. 

Marcus rolls his eyes, “Are you serious? Simon, why do you think he offered?”

A wave of defensiveness unfurls in his stomach, “Because he’s nice Marcus.”

“Oh come on.”

And now Simon gets it, and he now knows what this is about. Marcus is feeling insecure after seeing him and Wilhelm together and that’s why he feels justified in interrogating him about it, “Oh come on, not everyone does things with ulterior motives.”

The twist of his brow shows Simon that Marcus catches the subtle dig and he lets out a low, incredulous laugh, “Is he gay?”

“Huh .”

“Is he?”

“That’s not your business.”

“Why won’t you answer me then?”

“Look I didn’t exactly ask him, okay” He turns toward the man with a frown, leaning on the back of one of the dining chairs, “He might be queer okay but it’s not my—-“

“And you don’t think he had a Reason for driving you?” The rise of the other man's eyebrow, and the twist of his lips, the heavy implication in his tone strikes Simon with a sick feeling in his stomach.

“Wow. So you’re suggesting that the only reason someone would want to help me out or be my friend is because they want to fuck me?”

“I never said that Simon.”

Incredulous, he scoffs shaking his head, “And now you’re trying to gaslight me?”

“Look I don’t trust people I don’t know—-“

“You know me. You should trust me!” Simon steps forward, pointing to himself and trying to keep his voice down even though he feels a spike of frustrated anger at the idiotic conversation they are having right now. “Hell Marcus not everyone is like you and would cheat on someone when they are just a little upset with them”

“Oh please don’t bring that up again. How many times are you going to ask me to apologize for that? know what this is. You know I get why you’re insecure but Simon—“

He doesn’t want to hear anymore, he’s tired and fucking done listening to this, “Fuck off Marcus.”

The older man takes another few steps toward him and Simon crosses his arms over his chest, closing off to him. Marcus looks angry and it’s almost laughable because he seems so offended by something that's pure fact, a mistake that he himself had made even if it had been over a year ago.

“I made a mistake once and you’ve been holding it against me since then. Blaming me for everything. For your little career goals failing. Well newsflash, you’re not special Simon. You’re just some guy from the middle of fuck all with a dime-a-dozen talent. You have to have the drive to be a success, and you fucking crumble at the first sign of pressure. And don’t fucking blame me or your deadbeat dad for that that’s all on you.”

Simon takes a step back, eyes widening. Marcus has never been physically violent with him but he could have hit him for all it matters the way that his words affect him. He feels like he loses his breath for a moment.

The words find something just beneath the surface of his consciousness and hook into him with a radiating force of truth in them. They find the insecurities he has harbored inside of himself, the times he’s doubted himself, the rejections he’s faced, and the constant worry and fear of Am I good enough, they grab tight onto him and twist sharply, painfully, digging deep into the core of his heart and his mind.

He had never been good enough. Not for his father, who had fallen into addiction and who had turned into a completely different person, he hadn’t been enough to shield himself, he hadn’t been enough for him to try and get better.

He had endured hate and cruel words at every turn, High School had been miserable, he had never really found a way to fit in. He had Rosh and Ayub But sometimes he wondered if they only stuck with him out of a sense of obligation or loyalty considering how long they’ve known each other. When he dropped music, they had fought him on it and even now he wonders if they had lost respect for him after. He can’t help but wonder if they think he’s pathetic.

“I think you should leave.” He says softly, swallowing hard and feeling like there is static in his head. He doesn’t even want to look at Marcus.

“Hey I didn’t…hell Simon don’t take it so personally—“

“Don’t take it personally? You made it personal…you fucking even brought him into it when you know…when I’ve told you about him and how—-“ Simon swallows again, feeling something thick lodged in his throat. His eyes burn and he wipes at them fiercely wanting desperately to not cry in front of him, to not be vulnerable in front of him.

“Simon…” Marcus steps forward, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder and Simon recoils as though he’s been burned.

“I want you to leave.” He says

“Hell Simon don’t do this come on.” Marcus steps forward again and Simon feels his back hit the wall, panic blooming in his stomach, feeling trapped between the wall and his large form. Marcus has never hurt him, he’s careless with his words and he can be blunt and obtuse but Simon never felt unsafe . But now he feels trapped and the apartment is empty except for the two of them and Marcus won’t leave . He feels a sick sense of nostalgia, can almost hear the sounds of yelling and dishes crashing and the feeling of wishing he could make himself small enough to disappear. 

So when the man takes another step toward him he lashes out, pushing at him with all the strength he has.

“What the fuck Simon?” The larger man stumbles, eyes widening and looking up at him in surprise. 

“I said to fucking leave and you keep pushing me!” He hisses, cornered “If you don’t get the fuck out now I’ll call the police.”

“Hey! I didn’t even do anything!”

“He said to leave.”

They both freeze and when Simon looks up he sees Ayub standing in the doorway, expression stony. The light from the kitchen lights him from the front and his friend crosses his arms over his chest looking hard at Marcus who takes a step back.

“So you should leave or we will call the police.” 

Marcus lets out an incredulous laugh looking between them, “Ayub—“

“You better leave bro.” 

His roommate steps into the room and away from the doorway, leaving space for him to exit, Marcus looks back to Simon with a frown, his expression changes as though it’s finally dawning on him how all of this looks.

“Hell…I’m not… baby please listen—-“

“Don’t …don’t call me that…” he finally finds his voice, and with it a swell of anger and hurt comes up like a wave.

“Simon I’m sorry—“

"Get the fuck out Marcus.” His voice is shaking now and he can feel the tremor go through his body to the tips of his fingers.

“You got like five seconds before I’m fucking calling the cops,” Ayub says and his expression is impassive and serious. He’s usually such an easygoing person that it’s unnerving to see him like this, but Simon is so grateful for his presence now. 

Marcus raises his hands, seemingly realizing the seriousness of the situation, and takes a step back. “Fine….fine. Whatever.”

When he’s finally gone it’s like a pressure valve has been released. Simon feels his breath coming thick and fast and he puts a hand over his chest to try and somehow still the racing of his fragile heart from outside of skin and bone. 

“Shit bro, are you okay?” Ayub closes the door and locks it, hurrying over to him, “He didn’t do anything right?”

Simon somehow finds the ability to shake his head and he feels his friend's hand on his arm, guiding him to one of the chairs at the dining room table. 

“I’m alright.” He says quickly once he’s found his voice again, “I’m…sorry I don’t know what happened.”

He can guess though. Something about Marcus’ angry words, the way he loomed over him and refused to leave had unlocked something deep and hidden within him. Something he tried to forget. 

“You sure he didn’t do anything, Simon? Didn’t hurt you? Or touch you when you told him not to?”

“He just—no it just…freaked me out a little.” 

Ayub places a glass of water in front of him and Simon looks up at him gratefully.

“You got to fucking get rid of that guy Simon,” Ayub says in earnest sitting down across from him.

“But—“ He stops. Ayub is right. Simon isn’t sure why he’s kept him so long, allowing him to mess with his heart and his sense of self-worth. He wonders if it’s because he’s always been terrified of people leaving him, or if it’s because he thinks he’s not enough for something better. But Marcus isn’t all bad, right?

“He skipped out on dinner with his friends tonight to come help,” Simon says looking at Ayub, because that has to count for something right? 

A frown crosses his childhood friend's face. It’s the expression he always makes when Simon says something he doesn’t believe at all.

“Bro. He’s an asshole. Yeah, he does nice things but then he uses those against you.”

“He’s never done anything to hurt me, he's never—-“

“Simon. That’s the bare minimum .” Ayub looks incredulous, “It should be a given that he wouldn’t do something like that.”

He’s not sure why he’s sitting here defending Marcus to his best friend, isn’t sure what’s possessing him to defend a person who had just said all of those things about him.

“Dump him, Simon.” Ayub leans forward with a serious expression. “You deserve a lot better than that asshole. Didn’t he fucking cheat on you before?”

Simon winces, pulling back. God, he’s pathetic. Why has he allowed this person to do this to him, to talk to him the way he does, to treat him this way? Why is he like this?

“But he wants to be with me.” The words come suddenly and he feels sick when he realizes that what it really boils down to is that he’s afraid to be alone. God. Someone just shows him attention and says they want to be with him and he lies down and lets them walk all over him because he’s terrified that no one else will want him. Is that really what this is?

“Simme.” Ayub reaches for him, “That’s…you deserve more than that…you should be with someone who treats you like you are the most important thing to them…not just because they are a convenient option.” 

He stares at his friend, eyes widening.

“You gave him a second chance, which I never really understood Simme…Do you think what happened with your father was part of that? He was there for you I know but—--“

“I felt…I feel…” Simon shakes his head, cutting the other man off he knows what he wants to say. The words hang in his tongue but he chokes when he wants to speak them.

He’s lonely. Even being together with Marcus he still feels loneliness, like a splinter in his chest spreading out in sharp slivers of pain throughout every part of him. But it’s hard to say it out loud, he doesn’t know how to voice those thoughts, they feel too embarrassing and pathetic even to say to the person who has known him for most of his life. 

“Maybe I just…maybe I need a break from dating. Maybe I just need to discover who I am…as a single person for a while.”

Ayub makes an understanding nod, and Simon knows that he understands him. 

Simon had spent his entire life back in Bjärstad wanting to escape his small town and his home life and everyone who knew all of his business and then when he had actually managed to do it he had fallen into shitty relationship after shitty relationship until he had no longer really known what it was like to be himself. 

He and his sister had fought many times over this very thing. Every time he finds himself in a relationship with someone she would always be so quick to judge them and point out their red flags, and Simon hates it a little because she’s nearly always right, and then when things finally crash and burn and he would try to salvage them she would accuse him of being just like their mother. 

Sometimes he wonders if he’s inherited some kind of generational curse. Fallen into the same patterns because of his pathological need to be loved. 

Simon doesn’t think there’s anything strange about wanting someone in his life to be with. To love. He wants to be held close and touched and cared for and it always feels so so good in the beginning and then it just changes at some point. At some point it just becomes toxic.

“Man you know I’m here for you, right? If you need anything…I’m your hype man okay? I’ll even write the fucking text for you, but you have to break things off with him. For good.”

Simon closes his eyes. Ayub is right. “Okay.”

Ayub draws his chair closer to him. “Tell me what to say.”

“I can do it.” The Lock Screen of his phone stares back at him, a black and white photo of him with Ayub and Rosh. 

“Alright.” His friend says and leans back in his chair.

“What if he was just—-“ Simon cuts himself off with an incredulous strangled kind of sound, amazed at himself. What the fuck is wrong with him. Marcus is an asshole. Marcus had said and done terrible things to him and then gaslit him when he called him out on them. 

He opens their chat and swallows hard fingers hovering over the keypad.

Me

Marcus. I thought about this and I think we should end things.

Ayub is looking over his shoulder when he presses send and he can practically hear the sigh in his voice, “You’re really nice about this.”

“Shut up Ayub.”

His friend bumps their shoulders together and then Simon feels the vibration of his phone as they both look down.

Marcus

Are you serious? Simon please don’t do that. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say those things

“Bro…” he hears Ayub murmur from Next to him and he frowns deeply, closing his eyes tightly and taking a calming breath before responding.

Me

You always apologize but you never change. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care anymore. It’s over between us.

Marcus

Please baby don’t say that. You can just throw away everything we’ve been through together

Me

I’m done Marcus. I’m tired. You don’t treat me well. I deserve more. 

Marcus

?? I don’t treat you well? What the fuck Simon

Marcus

I’ve been there for you through sooo much

Marcus

So much of your bullshit.

Simon has to look away from the phone as the messages start coming in. He takes a shaky breath almost disgusted at the guilt he feels immediately in the pit of his stomach. The sudden thought of if he had done something wrong or been too quick to come to this decision. He feels sick. It’s so twisted the more he thinks about it.

Marcus

I was there when your father died 

Marcus

I fucking listened to you cry all the fucking time despite the fact you said you hated him 

Marcus 

I was there when you quit music

Marcus

I was the one who encouraged you to look for a new job and I was the only one who didn’t nag you about it

Marcus

I’ve always treated you well. It’s you who have treated me like shit

Marcus

Honestly do you know how many times I wanted to break up with you but I didn’t because I love you and I care about you and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings 

Marcus 

Hell you made me skip my best friend's birthday to help you organize and clean after your roommate left and you’re now acting like a sort of victim? 

Marcus

That’s what you do isn’t it. You’re always the victim and everyone else is always just being unfair to you is that it?

Marcus

Fucking answer me Simon I can see you’re reading these messages

Incoming call from Marcus

The vibration of his phone snaps him out of the underwater sort of feeling he has as he stares at the screen.

“Bro don’t answer it.”

He does anyway. Immediately he hears Marcus, his voice in his ear, in his head, working his way into the center like a termite burrowing into wood.

“What the hell Simon? How can you do this to me? I’ve done so much for you? I even canceled my plans tonight with my friends to help you——“

“ You always do things that seem nice, but then you expect some kind of repayment and use it against me.” Ayub’s words come back to him, the truth of them ringing in the air as Marcus pauses and there’s a brief moment of quiet on the other end of the line.

“You know what. You’re right Simon. Poor Simon. You’re such a fucking victim. I’m done—-“

“No I’m done, Marcus.” He takes in a slow, shaky breath, “I’m sick and tired of you using me when it’s convenient, getting angry at me for the most ridiculous things, and then gaslighting me and you keep saying you’ve done all of this shit for me but who the fuck uses the fact that you comforted me after my fucking father died, no matter how much of an asshole he was. Who the fuck used something like that against someone?!” As he speaks his blood begins to boil, the words coming faster filled with a righteous kind of anger that burns in his chest. 

”You just use me to feel self-important and then are surprised when I actually ask you for something because it’s never been about me. It’s always been about making yourself feel good. You feel so threatened about a friend from my job helping me out because he did it out of kindness and without an ulterior motive, but you don’t understand that because you do everything expecting something in return.” 

Marcus makes a sound on the other end but Simon cuts him off brutally before he can so much as speak, “Fuck you Marcus you are a shit person, a shit boyfriend, and a shit lay, and don’t fucking contact me again.”

And then he hangs up the phone and blocks his number. He’s breathing quickly feeling how the anger sits there under his skin. 

“Wow. What a fucking asshole .” He finally says and feels Ayub clap his shoulder with one of his large hands.

“That was epic bro. You put him in his fucking place.”

Simon looks over at him seeing the intense, proud look on his friend's face, and allows himself to smile a bit. It feels good actually, powerful in a way to finally be able to voice the things that have been building up for so long, to finally put his foot down and tell him that he can’t fuck with him anymore.

“You feel good?” Ayub murmurs, getting up out of the chair to cross into the kitchen and fetch some water.

“Yeah. I do.” Simon breathes out, looking over to where his friend is filling the glass from the tap. Ayub turns the water off and looks over at him with a smile.

“Good. You let him have it.” 

His friend returns and presses the glass into his hand. Simon takes a sip, letting himself decompress a bit from the long day. Feeling his limbs go limp in the chair as the tension begins to bleed out of him.

_________

Later that evening Simon finds himself going through the photos on his phone, the ones of him and Marcus, deleting them one by one. It's a strange feeling because as glad as he is to be rid of them, he can’t help but remember the good memories because it wasn’t all bad right? 

Or was it always tinged by a feeling of underappreciation and as if he owed something to Marcus? Now that he thinks back it’s almost as though every good memory is inexplicably linked to a fallout afterwards. It’s easier to see the pattern now that he’s not as close to it.

He should be happy to lose the dead weight that is Marcus. He should be overjoyed that it’s finally over. For good this time. No loose ends are leftover like the first time he had ended things. 

He should be happy, but why does he feel like he’s failed at yet another thing in his life. 

Even though it had taken longer than it should have, Simon had wasted so much time trying to make their relationship work. It had taken him walking in on him with another man to finally end things the first time and then when his father had died and Simon had fallen into a deep and confusing depression, Marcus had been there for him. He had shown him the bare minimum of sympathy, and Simon had needed something to distract him from the conflicting painful twisting things that the news of Micke's death had brought him so he had clung to it, desperate to feel again. 

But he had been fucking lying to himself and distancing himself ever since he had allowed the man back into his life. Hell, he had been practically trying to avoid him. Staying out late, canceling plans, procrastinating answering his texts. They hadn’t been alone in weeks, hadn’t had sex in even longer. 

No wonder Marcus had been so agitated.

What the fuck?

He groans out loud, pressing his palms against his eyes trying to stave off the headache that is starting to build between his eyes. It’s almost terrifying now, realizing how easily those thoughts come to him, how self-deprecating he has really become.

Needing a distraction he finds himself going to his phone, finger hesitating over the name of his sister. He thinks immediately about her, because he can’t really extricate her from memories of his father and that’s what is weighing mostly heavily on him in this moment.

Me

Hey Sara

Sara

Do you need something?

He rolls his eyes, shifting on the bed and hesitating before he answers. Sara doesn’t mean to be so abrupt, it’s just the way she is, and usually it doesn’t bother him but some days he’s a little more sensitive than others and he needs a little gentler of an approach, which Sara isn’t quite capable of. Simon knows she always means well and that she cares deeply, but there are things they can’t discuss together and things she just doesn’t understand.

Me

No?

Me

I just wanted to say hi

Me

Are you in Bjärstad this weekend? 

Sara

I was planning to be

Sara

Why?

Me

Do you want to come up?

Me

We have an extra room now

Sara

What happened?

Sara

Is everything alright?

Me

??

Me

I just asked you to come visit

Sara

You hardly ever message me out of the blue. What happened?

His sister is also incredibly perceptive and since she has no filter when it comes to speaking her mind, she’s ruthless at pointing things out.

Me

……

Me

Okay. So Marcus and I broke up.

Sara

Thank god 

Sara 

FINALLY

Me

Yea yea I know I should have done it earlier

Sara

Fucking finally

Me

Okay I get it

Me

I don’t know it feels weird

Sara

??? Marcus was a tool

Sara

It’s for good this time right?

Sara

Don’t tell me you regret it

Me

No I don’t 

Me

Never mind 

His phone starts to vibrate and he sees that she’s now calling him. Simon knows that his sister won’t let it go if he doesn’t answer so finally he swipes and brings the screen up to his ear.

“Hey, Sara.”

“What’s going on Simon? Are you upset about the breakup?”

He doesn’t really know how to answer that question. He’s not upset about getting rid of Marcus, lord knows it was time. but he is upset in a way, about the feeling of failing and the feeling of allowing himself to be treated that way for so long. Sara would understand if he opened up to her probably, but it’s hard to put into words.

“I just….I know I should be happy. And I am. It’s just a weird feeling.”

There’s a pause on the other end.

“You want me to come up for the weekend Simon? I was actually invited to a party that Felice is going to but I decided not to come. But if you want I can get the early morning train and we can spend the day together tomorrow. If you want you can come to the party with us.”

He’s about to tell her that she doesn’t need to, that she shouldn’t inconvenience herself, but the idea of having his sister here, even if she’s blunt and isn’t very good at comforting. Just her presence would make him feel better.

“Please?” He says with a quiet voice.

“Then I’ll buy the ticket now.” His sister says without even pausing. There’s a brief pause and then she speaks again, “So I’ll be at your place at 8 in the morning. We can go to that breakfast place you like together.”

Simon lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and closes his eyes. “Thank you, Sara. I’ll see you then. I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too Simon. I’ll see you soon though. And the party… should I tell Felice you’re coming?”

Simon knows the last time he had gone to a party after breaking up with Marcus, the evening had ended with him waking up at Felice’s place, confused about how the hell he had gotten there and feeling like he had cotton stuffed in his head and a terribly dry throat.

“Maybe…it might be kind of fun I guess.”

“Well, you can think about it and let us know. No pressure. I know she wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll let you know then…” he trails off.

Sometimes he wishes he could talk to her about everything. About their childhood, their father, and all the things that had transpired in the past. 

But their father had been dead to Sara long before his body had been laid to rest in that tiny cemetery outside of Bjärstad. She had refused to talk about him long before she had refused to go to his funeral and no matter how he is feeling now, he knows it’s a topic she will not breach with him.

“Simon?”

“Mmm sorry.” He realizes he’s been quiet for a while now judging by the questioning tone in Sara’s voice. “I’m tired. I’ll see you tomorrow though. Do you want me to meet you at the central station?”

“If you want. We can grab a coffee there.”

He nods even though he knows she can’t see him, “Alright Sara. Goodnight I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Simon falls asleep with his phone still in his hands, his mind is strange and quiet. His dreams dark and full of ghosts. But he doesn’t wake, he just lets them take him and manipulate him as they will. 

In the morning hopefully, he won't feel this way anymore. 

Chapter Text

The day of Studenten comes and goes in a haze of champagne and beer, blue and yellow streamers, and confetti caught in his hair. 

Wilhelm had spent the night with the others at Henry’s lake house, locked away in a room with Alex where they had stumbled in after the after-party. They had shared a joint, sitting next to each other at the open window framed with the background of picturesque Swedish summer. The land sloped down toward the lake, flanked by intensely green trees lush with rain muted dew-like in the pale blue light of the midnight sun. 

They laughed, bent towards each other as they passed the joint between their lingering fingers. Wilhelm had glanced around and for the first time in so long, felt like he was on top of the fucking world.

Alex had been lit in the blue sheen of pale light and Wilhelm had leaned forward drawing the curl of smoke from his lips into his own, kissing him until Alex had slid off the windowsill, fingers twisted into Wilhelms jacket beckoning him to follow to the couch in Henry’s guest room.

Getting out of the Uber now, in the light of morning, Wilhelm feels a little dazed, grinning stupidly with the pleasant buzz of whatever is left in his system from the weed and the alcohol and the sex he had had on Henry’s family’s stupidly expensive couch overlooking the sloping green and dark waters. 

He runs a hand through his hair, still short but much less neat than it had been hours before standing outside the school for pictures.

Biting the inside of his cheek, smiling hard to himself, feeling happier than he has in a long time. He’s finally graduated, and soon he won’t live in his parent's house anymore. He had been accepted to the Arts school that he had so desperately wanted to go to and he’s been practicing how he is going to approach the subject with his parents, but he’s done exactly what they would have wanted. He's come up with a five-year plan and he’s practiced what he’s going to say until he’s memorized every advantage to pursuing an art degree over law and every way it would help him cope with his fucked up head that his parents have been paying so much money to fix without listening to what the real problem is.

Things are going up. Maybe eventually he will even tell them the truth about him. Wilhelm doesn’t know if he and Alex will continue seeing each other, Alex is going abroad for school and they had both known that it was a temporary thing. But maybe Wilhelm might meet someone in his new school and maybe who knows, maybe one day he will be able to bring them home.

Wilhelm is humming along, tripping a bit up the long driveway. There’s a fountain in front of the estate and he leans over the water to peer at his reflection, grinning and dipping his fingers into the cool water. 

When he was a child he used to drop coins in the fountain and make a wish. He used to wish for all kinds of things, but mostly he wished that his parents would tell him for once that they were proud of him without it being a competition with Erik.

Erik is his perfect older brother, the golden child of their family. He had always been immaculately successful at everything he had attempted. At horseback riding, track, and rowing. In school, he had top grades and was the Skogsbacken Prefect in his third year. Everyone loved Erik, and there were photos of him and evidence of all of his achievements all over their home. Erik could do no wrong, something his parents had made sure to remind him of since the two of them were very young.

Wilhelm thinks they have always used Erik against him to light a competitive spark within him and force him to do better or be better, but Wille had never wanted to fight his brother for scraps. He was okay taking the side-stage and letting him shine in front, Wille didn’t care about those things, the acknowledgments, and the accolades, the way his parents and Erik did. He had always just wanted an older brother who he could talk to and be vulnerable around.

But that was never really how their relationship worked, and Wille can’t even blame Erik, because they had both been pushed and manipulated by their parents and it had manifested in both of them in ways that were vastly different from one another.

The house is quiet when he pushes through the double doors. It’s a bit strange considering the fact that it’s past 9 am and his parents are very much early risers 

“Mamma? Pappa?” He calls out, sitting down on the bench to unlace his shoes and set them aside.

Heading down the hallway he pauses mid-step when he turns into the kitchen and sees his parents sitting at the kitchen table, silent looking toward the archway. His mother is wearing a deeply etched frown and her hands are folded on the table. His father is leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. They aren’t speaking, they seem to be waiting for him.

“Hey…” he says, taking a tentative step into the large archway that leads into their expansive kitchen, The French windows are closed but he can see into the back garden where a gardener is bent in the soil tending to his mother's prized rosebush. 

He looks between the stony faces of his parents in confusion, “Is everything okay?”

His mother's lips tighten, “Is it true Wilhelm?”

The words are fierce, but he doesn’t know where they come from, “Is what true?”

“Are you intimately….involved…with another boy?”

Wilhelm freezes there in the kitchen, eyes widening, feeling as though the ground is falling out from below him.

His parents have always claimed to not be homophobic, but he knows they’ve always excluded their own children from that narrative. It’s not something they’ve ever had to imagine would even touch them in their sprawling estate in their wealthy neighborhood and their social circle of traditional values. 

“I…”

His mother frowns deeper. “August saw you. With the Bragé boy.” Wilhelm can hear the distaste in her voice.

“August?” Furrowing his brow he looks toward his father who remains impassive before looking back at her. “What did August say?”

“He saw the two of you….being intimate. So it’s true then?”

Wilhelm and his cousin August have been at odds recently after his cousin had stolen his anxiety medication, and Wilhelm accused him of it in front of his own parents and August's mother the day of his Studenten after his cousin shown up after Wilhelm had told him not to show his face. 

August had been livid to have his problems exposed in front of his family. Erik had frowned at Wilhelm and told him that it had caused unnecessary issues for their cousin, but Erik is close to August and Erik doesn’t understand.

Erik isn’t the one who had been diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression all of these years like Wilhelm had. Erik never had to endure the quiet judgment from their parents, the shame of knowing that something wasn’t right about him, that he was broken and twisted somehow in the head. 

The drugs that August had taken from him for recreational use at parties were sometimes the only things that Wilhelm could use to bring himself back to earth. A last resort but still no fucking party drugs. It was hard enough to get the prescription in the first place.

It strikes him then.

August in retaliation for exposing his secret drug problem, angry about being humiliated in front of his family and having his perfect image crack in their eyes, in retaliation he must have decided to expose one of Wilhelm's secrets as well.

“Alex…I mean Alexander is…he’s my boyfriend. We are…we are together.” His voice shakes slightly but he tries to swallow his fears. It’s already out and he’s always been a terrible liar, he’s not sure he can lie about this anymore or why he should have to. He just wishes that he was doing this on his own terms. 

Wilhelm feels how his fingers tremble, how his breathing has quickened and he tries to take a calming breath, but seeing his mother's face after he speaks he can’t help the way his chest feels as though it’s cracked open, falling out like the yolk of an egg. 

His mother's expression tightens and Wille's throat goes dry. She looks disgusted, as though he is a complete stranger she’s never seen before and finds extremely unpleasant. 

“I don’t understand Wilhelm. You have plenty of girls in your class. It’s not as though Hillerska is a boys-only school.”

He wants to laugh, but his throat still feels dry. “Mamma that's…I’m not interested in any of those girls. I’m not saying I’m not interested in girls at all…I don’t really know that yet so I don’t want to label myself, but I like Alex a lot—-“

His father coughs, shifting in his chair. The sound draws his attention because It’s the first time he’s really made a sound since all of this began.

“Oh please.” She snaps, and he takes a reflexive step backward, feeling a rush of shock. His mother pauses as well, her expression smoothing out after a moment as though she’s realized her slight loss of control. 

“Wilhelm.” His mother says his name like she’s talking to a petulant child who won’t listen, “You don’t know what you really want. You’re so young. And when you are this young you feel like you can do anything or be anything. You don’t think about the consequences or the implications in the future—“

“I’m eighteen. I’m an adult…what do you mean I don’t know what I want? I didn't just Wake up one day and think hey I want to kiss a boy mamma, I’ve always felt like this and what do you mean implications? Implications for who?”

His parents look at each other and his mother frowns. “Wilhelm you know very well how important our standing as a family is. We can’t slip up and have scandalous—-“

“Wait.” He feels dizzy like the ground is spinning below him, like he’s looking down a terrifyingly high cliff and there’s nothing tethering him to the cliffside. “Wait…you…you think me being in a relationship with my boyfriend is scandalous? You think I’m giving the family a bad name?”

Her expression hardens and Wilhelm again looks to his father, wordlessly pleading for him to say something that makes more sense. But his father is quiet and won’t quite meet his eye. 

“You’re so childish, Wilhelm. You know how the world works. There’s no space for an unconventional relationship when you’re representing everything our family stands for and has built.”

The words sting, somehow he had been expecting them, but it hurts worse than he realized it would

He thinks of the email from the art school in his inbox, offering him a place there and he clings desperately to it, seeing it as a brief glimpse of freedom from everything that’s closing rapidly in front of him. He feels like the earth itself will swallow him whole.

“Also I found this addressed to you.” She pushes an envelope toward him and he sees the name of the art school where he’s been accepted looking back at him in stark bold letters against white paper. They had originally sent him an email announcing their decision and he hadn’t been expecting something physical in writing like this so he hadn’t been keeping an eye on the post box. 

Wille freezes again, his heart hurts, his chest aching as though he’s being crushed from the pressure, and his thoughts are racing, chaotic, fearful. It feels as though he can’t breathe properly.

“You went through my mail?”

“You’ve been keeping things from us, Wilhelm. And you live here. This is our home so I have a right to see who is sending you mail.”

She folds her arms on the table and looks at him squarely with a grave-sounding voice as she speaks, “This is what we will do. You will end things immediately with this boy and go to law school as we planned. You will stay here where we can keep an eye on you and who you are socializing with in order to make sure you are not distracted.”

“I….I won’t. I won’t do that.”

“You will if you want to continue to live using our money. Otherwise, you can leave.”

He stares at her, eyes widening, “Leave?”

“Yes.” 

“Pappa…” he looks over at his father. He feels small and alone and his throat is choked. 

“Pappa say something…please” his voice is cracked and pleading and he feels desperate to reach him, to get him to help him somehow, to stand up to her even though he knows deep down inside that he won’t. 

Instead, his father looks away from him.

And that's it. He realizes looking around the kitchen of his childhood home, at the table where his parents sit, so far from him and so unwilling to meet him where he is or even to try to meet him halfway. Wilhelm realizes that leaving sounds more like freedom than it ever has, even though he’s fucking terrified because he has no idea what he's going to do or even where he’s going to live.

But even sleeping on a park bench is better than being here. 

“I…I’m leaving then.” He says, feeling like he is in a simulation instead of real life, somewhere outside of reality. 

His parents only stare and his mother makes a sound before going back to the newspaper in front of her.

“Right.” He says taking an unstable step backwards.

“You’re more than welcome to come back once you realize how foolish you are being Wilhelm. Actually, this could be good for you. I think it’s high time you experience the real world. If you think you’ll last longer than a few days without us you have quite the education waiting for you.”

Anger flares in his chest and he closes his eyes trying to control his emotions, knowing if he lashes out she will only shut down further and call him a child again. 

He was never good at controlling his emotions the way she and Erik are, Wilhelm was never able to just shut off. He’s always been a sensitive child who always needed more reassurance, but his mother had always been a mother bird who believed in kicking her babies out of the nest in order to make them learn to fly.

But Wilhelm's wings had always been broken.

He turns without another word, hearing the sickeningly loud rush of blood in his head. The trip down the halls and up the grand staircase to where his room is located feels like it takes ages, every step is harder and harder. He has no idea where to start when he enters his room.

Taking an overnight bag he grabs some of his clothes that are easiest to reach, a few of his favorite books, his weed stash hidden under his mattress they thankfully hadn’t found, and a few photos of him and his friends. With shaking fingers he takes his laptop from the desk and his notebooks of sketches and collages. 

On his way down the stairs, he runs into Erik who has just come in the front door. “Hey, lillebror!” His brother's grin is wide and he stretches out his arms. “Grattis! You’re graduated!”

He must see the expression Wilhelm is wearing because his posture changes immediately, “Wille what is it?”

“I’m…I’m leaving,” Wilhelm tells him with a tight swallow as he hears his mother's heels on the hardwood and sees her round the corner, watching him impassively arms crossing over her chest.

“What?” Erik looks between the two of them in surprise, “Leaving?”

“Your brother is confused and has decided that he doesn’t want his parents' help any longer. That he knows better than we do. So he can go see for himself how much he needs us.”

“Huh?” Erik stares at her and looks back to Wilhelm. Wilhelm feels exposed and ashamed. He and his brother have always had a complicated and complex relationship. Because their parents had always used them against each other often it felt as though he could never really relax around Erik, that everything he said or did would be held up under a microscope and used against him somehow in the future. He hadn’t told him about his struggles with his anxiety and the dark turns his mind often took, but Erik had found out anyway, had found him in the middle of a panic attack, and instead of listening to him begging not to tell their parents, he had done so anyway. 

It was Erik who had gotten their parents to put Wille in session after session with psychologist after psychologist all the while lying about what he was doing missing classes and refusing to acknowledge it at home. Maybe Erik had thought he was helping, but in the end, it had made everything so much more difficult. 

So Wille hadn’t breathed a word about Alexander because he was terrified Erik would tell their parents in the same way, hadn’t even been sure how Erik would feel if he were to know that his younger brother had yet another thing that made him stick out, yet another thing that didn’t fit in their world. 

Wilhelm had never wanted his parents to know how weak he was, they already compared him to Erik. Erik would never do this…Erik was always so good at this…Erik was never sick in the head like him.

Erik couldn’t be trusted with any more of Wilhelm's secrets.

“Wait you can’t leave—-wait this has to be a misunderstanding right Wille? You don’t really mean anything right?” Erik reaches out for him, a hand on his arm. He doesn’t even know why this is happening but of course, he assumes it’s Wilhelm's fault. Of course, he does. 

“He’s decided that he’s going to subject himself to the ridicule and hardship of being in a same-sex relationship. Oh and that he has decided he wants to become an artist.” Her voice drips with sarcasm. “After everything we’ve done for him, to prepare his future and to give him all the right opportunities to make this family proud.” 

Their mother scoffs, the sound echoes loudly in the cavernous foyer, digging into his chest where his heart beats frantically. 

Erik stares at him with wide eyes, like he doesn’t even recognize him. it’s obviously a shock to him, his hand falters dropping to his side and Wilhelm can’t bear to look at his expression any longer.

He’s so ashamed of his weaknesses and his brother is the perfect one, Wilhelm can’t bear to see the judgment in his eyes or hear him say something that will only validate how much of a disappointment he is.

“Wille—-“ His brother murmurs, taking a step closer.

“Don’t.” He says, “Just…don’t. Please.” He pulls away, refusing to look at him. It hurts to breathe, everything hurts. He feels his eyes burning with unshed tears, knowing that he needs to leave now before he really breaks down.

“Wille wait no listen…” Erik takes a step forward, “Don’t do this. Sometimes we have to just…sometimes we need to compromise—“

He snaps his head up, the words going through him like broken glass. Eyes widening he feels his breath tighten, difficult and small. Erik looks conflicted like he realizes that wasn’t the right thing to say but Wille wonders if perhaps he doesn’t actually know what to say.

Wille doubts he ever considered that one day this situation would arise and he almost feels sorry when he sees how confused and shocked Erik looks.

But the damage is already done.

He expected these things from their parents but from Erik…it breaks him.

“Compromise?” He says with great difficulty, “Compromise what? Everything? I can't do it…not any longer. I can't Erik.”

There's nowhere else to go, to stay here is to resign himself to a prison of life, an extension of the misery and secrecy he's been living in for so long, except worse because now his secrets have been revealed and he’ll never once again have any sense of peace.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” Erik huffs in amusement, smiling a bit and trying to take a step toward him with that reproachful big brother attitude that always feels so condescending. “Let’s just talk about this–”

Wilhelm pulls his arm away sharply when he reaches for it.

“I’ll fucking kill myself if I have to stay another second in this house with them and you.” Wilhelm snaps, voice shaking with hurt and a wave of anger so sudden and frightening that threatens to swallow him. It’s such a dark thought that comes to the surface but he knows without a shadow of a doubt it’s the truth. He can’t do it anymore. He can’t. 

He can’t. He can’t.

Erik looks like he's been slapped in the face, freezing as his eyes widen in shock followed by a sharp intake of breath. He stares at Wille like he’s a stranger, like he’s someone he’s never met before.

“Oh please.” His mother sighs. “It is dramatic, isn’t it? Before you go Wilhelm…your laptop.”

He’s still staring at his brother who hasn’t moved or made a sound. He’s wearing a sharp suit and he looks so perfect, every bit the perfect golden child he is. 

Wille can’t breathe.

“Wilhelm the laptop.” His mother stretches out her hand expectantly.

He wants to resist but he doesn’t want to be here any longer so he fishes it out of his bag and pushes it into her awaiting hand, turning toward the exit.

“And your tablet.”

Wille freezes, making a surprised sound as he turns back to look at her. His tablet has all of his digital art saved in its memory. The programs which make it possible, are programs he will need for school if he can even go anymore to school. “But…”

“I paid for it. As far as I’m concerned it’s my property.”

With shaking fingers, he slowly hands it over to her. And then without another word, he turns his back on them and leaves.

Erik doesn’t come after him.

______________

It’s always this memory that comes back. 

Followed by the memory of Nils finding him outside that shitty club, shivering, hungry and halfway into convincing a stranger to take him home, the older boy had swept in, taken pity on him for some reason and let him stay at his apartment that very same night. 

The spiral of depression he had fallen into, the way he hadn’t even been able to even look at himself in the mirror, disgusted by what he saw there.

He probably wouldn’t be here today without Felice and Nils, without their interference when he had been at his lowest, and refusal to leave him be to fall further into the darkness that had consumed him at that time.

He owes them so much.

Wilhelm isn’t so sure why he hasn’t just blocked the number. He’s not even sure how Erik got his new number, but he suspects it was Nils or Feloce who had given it to him at some point. They both had encouraged him to talk to his older brother, but Wille hasn’t yet.

He sends things sometimes, and wishes him a Merry Christmas or Happy Midsummer. Sometimes talks about childhood memories or random thoughts and things that reminded him of Wilhelm or them as kids. And then he apologizes. Over and over, says he knows he should have been more supportive, that he didn’t really understand back then, but that he wants to fix things.

And those messages hurt, because Wilhelm wants that. More than anything. He wants to fix things between them but doesn’t how to begin and he can’t help the voice in his head that tells him that his brother is still under the thumb of his parents. What if Erik doesn’t really mean these things, at least not in the way that Wilhelm needs him to, what if he looks at him and Wille sees the judgment and disapproval there again? 

And it’s been years at this point. Erik knows he reads the messages, he can see that they have been read but Wilhelm had never once replied, has remained silent on his end and it’s gotten to the point that he's not sure he can reply. 

Wilhelm has done so much work on himself to try and come to terms with the things he is and the things he wants, to believe in himself when he says he hasn’t failed. It’s still hard but he’s more comfortable now, with himself, with loving himself. There are still days when all he wants to do is hide and when everything he had learned as a child from the environment he had grown up in comes back in a brutal rush of self-hatred. Where the voices of his family and the people he had known come back to ridicule him to tell him he’s done everything wrong. Sometimes it’s even his own voice and that’s the loudest one of all. 

But it’s gotten so much easier. It has.

Still when Erik messages him, sometimes he falls back into that version of himself, the boy that wanted nothing but his older brother's approval and his parent's love and never could quite meet either of their expectations for him.

The message that had come in this morning stares back at him.

Erik

Hi Wille. I Hope You’re doing Well. I really love the new pieces you put up on your website. You’re really talented you know. I don’t know anything about art so I can’t really analyze it haha but it looks really nice. It makes me feel happy and I guess art that makes people feel things is the best kind of art.

Erik

Anyway I just want to let you know I’m still here. If you ever need anything I’m here for you. I’m really proud of you and I’m sorry.

Erik

It’s Christmas soon. I’d love if we could meet at some point but I understand if you don’t want that. 

Erik

Take care of yourself Wille. I miss you and I love you and I’m sorry.

Wilhelm stares feeling numb as he rereads the words that are lit against the screen of his phone. It takes him a moment but he closes their chat, leaning back to take a sip of the beer in his hands. 

“Hey, friend.” Felice’s voice comes from his side as she sits down next to him on the sofa. The venue they are currently in is a nice one, a fancy department store decked out for a party hosted by a very trendy brand of Energy Drink. One of the clients Felice represents at her consulting job. She had invited him a while ago, but he hadn’t decided until today to come. He had felt like it would be a good distraction at the time. 

It’s not a stuffy affair. There’s a DJ and an open bar and the venue is packed with young professionals and social media influencers, theres EDM blasting from the DJ table and a crowd dancing under strobe lights in blues and pinks. It’s actually quite fun, Felice had dragged him into a photo-booth shortly after they had arrived and someone had pressed a drink into his hand and normally he’d be having a great time at something like this.

But his phone is a heavy weight in his hand, even when he slips it into his pocket, it stays at the forefront of his mind.

“Guess who’s coming tonight?” Felice leans over to him. Wille spies Nils over by some sort of booth where a man and women head to toe in glow-in-the-dark fluorescent paints are passing out drinks. He’s holding a colorful-looking drink, in conversation with a built guy who dwarfs his more vertically challenged friend.

“Who?” He murmurs while taking a sip of the beer, looking away from the rave tableau and back to his curly-haired friend. 

“Sara.” 

Wilhelm looks over at her with an eyebrow raised, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He makes a soft hum. Felice and Sara are quite close but as far as he’s aware she still lives back in Bjärstad or at least close to where she grew up. Maybe it was Linköping, he can’t quite remember.

The last time he had seen her was at Stella’s New Year’s party after following her and her brother to Felice’s place. 

Speaking of her brother he turns, eyes widening when Felice casually says, “Oh, and Simon is supposed to be here tonight as well.”

His friend is sipping at her drink and the way she looks up at him coyly through her eyelashes tells him that she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“If you were interested in knowing.”

He blinks looking around with wide eyes which brings a giggle out of his friend, “Wow you’re not subtle at all.”

Felice and Nils both know about what happened last year, and they have been teasing him nonstop since Simon joined his office, well Nils mostly has been teasing him, but Wille is getting used to them bringing it up sneakily practically all the time lately. 

“Cut me some slack okay.”

Felice looks down at her phone which is buzzing and briefly, he sees the name Sara flash across the screen. She answers her phone standing to her feet as she tries to see over the heads of people in the room. 

Wille assumes she’s found her when she starts to wave above her head and he turns to see both Sara and Simon slipping through the people to join them.

Simon looks over at him and Wilhelm feels a pleasant feeling bloom in his stomach when he smiles, trying not to read into the fact that his eyes had found him first. 

He is dressed in a graphic T-shirt and jeans and Wille sees the rainbow rope bracelet hanging on a slender wrist as the man raises a can of cola to his lips, casting a gaze around the room.

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” Wille remarks getting off of the sofa and stepping closer to him as Sara latches onto Felice after he's greeted her as well.

“Me either to be fair.” Simon’s dark curls catch the kaleidoscope of colors from the lights above them as he refocuses back on Wilhelm and shrugs, loose and easy. “Just needed a distraction.”

He feels his curiosity peak and looks over at him with an eyebrow raised, “Oh?”

Simon must realize that he’s perhaps said too much, he looks away from him and sips at his cola. There's a moment of quiet and then he speaks again, less stilted. “Hey, I wanted to thank you again for the other day.”

Wille shifts a bit against the wall where he is standing, “Really Simon, it was no problem.” He looks down at the soda in his hand and smiles a bit, “So no Champagne tonight?”

Watching the other man's eyes widen slightly as Simon looks up at him. For an awkward moment, he wonders if he shouldn’t have brought it up, but then Simon grins, giving an odd-sounding laugh, “No not tonight. I learned my lesson, I woke up with the fucking worst hangover and I couldn’t even remember how I had gotten back.”

He can’t help but laugh a bit in return, and can only imagine how he must have felt like absolute shit waking up after two whole bottles of champagne. “Maybe it’s a safer bet to forego the alcohol tonight then.”

A faint laugh turning into a sigh escapes the other man's lips as they stay turned upward in a feline grin.

“So…” Wilhelm says, feeling something press him to continue as he looks down at him, “I came here because I also needed a distraction.”

Their eyes meet again and the other man tilts his head in interest, and he isn’t sure what possesses him to continue talking still. “Someone I haven’t talked to in a long time… contacted me today.”

“That’s shit…” He can almost hear the frown in the other man’s voice and he chances another glance at him to find that his gaze is open and sympathetic despite not knowing the situation.

“I can understand the sentiment…” Simon muses, tapping a finger against the red aluminum. The motion draws Wille’s eyes to his hands, broad, slender musicians fingers, nails short and clean from color. They make him self-conscious of his gnawed and mangled nailbeds and cuticles which he has the tendency to chew until they are raw in bouts of anxiety. He remembers that the black polish he painted on them on Friday is chipped and messy and that only serves to add another layer of embarrassment. 

“Yeah?”

There’s something quiet and difficult that passes over the man's features as he frowns. “Yeah…my Pappa…he used to…message me sometimes and stuff and…” Simon looks out into the people on the dancefloor and frowns, suddenly bringing a hand to massage his temple. 

It’s not really the confession that Wille had expected. He doesn’t remember ever seeing Simon’s father at school events those few semesters they had been together at Hillerska or after once Simon had left and Sara remained. Wille remembers their mother, a kind, pretty woman with dark hair whose face Simon seems to favor more than his sister does. 

“Can we…go somewhere a little quieter?” Simon asks and Wille blinks when he takes the words in, feeling some of the blood drain from his head as Simon looks up at him again.“I mean if you want to keep talking…it’s just so loud and hot in here I can’t really hear you.”

“Oh sure let’s go then…” He gestures in the general direction toward an exit with his beer, which he still hasn’t finished and is starting to get a bit warm. 

Simon leads him to the terrace of the venue. There are only a few people outside, braving the cold to get some air or to have a cigarette break.

“Sorry. I just felt like it was getting a little hard to breathe.” The other man says leaning against the railing as Wilhelm does the same next to him. 

He looks over Simon now, his beer hanging loosely in his fingertips over the railing as he turns his gaze to the darkness, the glow of the parliament and the palace in the background in a galaxy made of shades of black and dark blues. He can see the reflections of the city in the dark waters, like yellow stars twinkling in a night sky.

“It was my brother.”

He hears movement beside him and turns to see Simon’s dark eyes on him. “Who contacted me I mean,” Wille explains further and sees understanding pass through the other’s gaze.

“Your brother?”

He nods. “Erik.”

“You didn’t want to talk to him?”

“I don’t have contact with any of my family.” The truth rings out bitter and cold on his tongue and Wilhelm frowns, tapping a finger against the neck of the bottle. He wants to tell him that it’s not really that he doesn’t want to talk to Erik, it's just that things have gotten so complicated between them and he doesn’t know if he can unravel all the mess between them and their past. 

“Ah….well family can be…tough.”

He laughs, feeling a bit bitter, and nods, raising the bottle to his lips again, “Yeah well you know what they say.”

“What do they say?”

“Blood is thicker than water…but blood leaves stains.”

“I thought it was Blood is thicker than water but friendship is thicker than both .”

The words tug at his memory for some reason and he looks over at him with a curious glance to see Simon grinning at him a bit, posture relaxed and loose on the railing, his expression is mischievous and boyish and Wille can’t help but laugh softly. “What’s that from?”

“Your heroine chic era.” His shoulders come up in an unaffected shrug and his grin widens.

“Oh come on fuck you.” Wilhelm laughs again, finding himself grinning as well. “You’re really gonna use my trauma against me?”

“Well…sometimes it’s good to laugh at trauma. Otherwise, it starts to eat away at you.” 

There’s a silence that settles over them and Simon is the first to break it shaking his head and turning, opening himself up to him. “I really wish we would have talked back then. In school I mean. It would have been nice to have you as a friend.”

He’s not sure why but the words hit him deeply because he thinks Simon is right. He could have needed someone like him back then, to be honest, they probably could have needed each other. “We were stupid teenagers…I should have talked to you. You just scared me.”

The dark-haired man laughs then, the sound bright and surprised, his eyes are wide and full of a sparkling curiosity and if Wille looks close enough he can see the reflection of the terrace lights in their depths, “I scared you? That’s hilarious…”

“Because seeing you. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.” He shrugs, honest for some reason. That time feels so far away, and he feels like a completely different person than the boy he had been at sixteen. “I had to face that I was hiding who I was and that was really fucking scary back then.”

“Wait…” The other man blinks as understanding dawns on him. Wille isn’t sure what he expects him to say but he snorts when he hears his next words, “So…does that mean you thought I was hot?”

Wille rolls his eyes, huffing out a laugh, “Oh please you know you’re hot right?”

Simon lets out a delighted but incredulous sound, “Wait what? Are you kidding me?”

Wilhelm turns toward him thinking he’s joking and sees that Simon seems surprised, genuinely surprised and he can’t quite come to terms with the fact that the other doesn’t know, or doesn’t believe him that he’s just so…..

“I mean I’m not a complete troll I guess but come on you’re much more….” The man’s eyes go wide as he quickly cuts himself off as though he was about to say something incriminating.

Wilhelm feels something warm settling in his stomach despite the chill of autumn that’s been trying to crawl into his bones. Judging by Simon’s flush and the way he turns away from Wille, Simon might feel it too.

It’s cold, but he doesn’t really feel the chill as badly as he expected, or at least he’s just roughing it out because more time to talk with Simon is more appealing than going back inside. 

Suddenly Simon makes a noise and Wille barely has time to register what happens, when a young man, stumbling drunk pushes into the shorter man, knocking him into Wilhelm hard enough for both their drinks to spill over their clothes. He catches him with his arm, feeling the sore spot on his collarbone where Simon has hit, but it barely registers because he suddenly has a noseful of Simon’s dark curls and he can smell his shampoo and feel the lines of his body pressed against him in a way he has only in his shameful dreams and a distant memory from over a year ago. 

“Oh shit—” Simon exclaims, but Wilhelm is frozen, fingers still wrapped around his forearm and when the other rights himself and pulls back Wilhelm sees the exact moment it sinks in. His expression changes from surprise to a quiet sort of intrigue and Wille is breathless when he sees him wet his lips, staring at him with a dark gaze.

There's a long moment where they stand there and the tension builds so quickly between them that Wilhelm doesn't even notice the icy feeling of his clothes which are wet from where Simon’s soda spilled on the fabric of his silky open-collared shirt. He sees Simon’s eyes travel to where he knows his tattoo is peaking out just by his collarbone and then Simon makes another noise, pulling back slightly. 

“Oh shit Wille your shirt…fuck I’m sorry, it looks really obvious…”

“I guess…” He coughs slightly, trying to pull himself together from whatever the hell that was, “That’s what I get I guess for wearing pastels…”Wilhelm notices that Simon’s shirt is wet as well then, probably from his own beer that had spilled as well, “It looks like we are just a mess…”

Simon looks down at himself, pulling the wet fabric away from his skin and scrunching his nose up in distaste, “Let's…here the bathroom is right over there…gross I smell like beer now.”

“Sorry.” He murmurs to which the other man shakes his head.

“It’s not your fault, careless drunk…hopefully someone gets him sobered up. Come on.” 

Wilhelm can’t contain the surprise he feels when Simon's fingers slide over his wrist, pulling him along back into the venue and towards the escalators, up to the empty second floor of the venue. 

The toilets up here are the luxurious kind found in fancy department stores like this one where the event is being held, the kind with a sitting room and marble floors and countertops and grand lighting fixtures. It’s deserted and silent and when they enter the sound of their shoes on the polished stone seems extremely loud. Now that he thinks about he hasn’t seen a single person here on the second floor. 

Wilhelm leans against the long, cool counter, watching as Simon nervously reaches across him to pull out several papers from the dispenser.

“Here…” The man murmurs, his eyes flitting nervously up as he reaches forward to dab at the wet spots making the fabric cling to Wilhelm’s body.

Wille feels the blood rushing in his head again, feels the way his skin heats up in every place that Simon touches him and the tension that strums between them like a live wire. The other man is so close that he can hear when Simon swallows hard in his throat, the slight shake in his breath, and the way his fingers linger, touch ghost-like over him. 

It would be the perfect time to kiss Simon. If he’s reading the signals correctly, the way that he looks up at Wilhelm with almost shy glances. Neither of them is drunk, this time they will both remember it. If he’s brave enough. If—

Simon stills and finally, he looks up at him taking a step closer until they are standing with mere centimeters between them. Wille stares, afraid that if he speaks then Simon will shy away and disappear for another year, back into smoke at his fingertips and just a vision in his dreams.

“Wille?” The words are whispered into the space between them, even though they are alone here far away from the party that is going on one floor below them.

“Yeah?” He murmurs and with a surge of bravery reaches forward slowly to rest his hand on the other’s hip which pulls a shivering breath from Simon’s lips.

“Did that help?” He asks, and Wilhelm nods even though he’s not really sure what he’s talking about because Simon is so close and he can smell his shampoo and the light scent of his cologne, masculine but soft in a way that he can’t describe. But maybe that's just Simon because the scent is familiar, it reminds him of the night they had kissed on the floor of Stella’s sitting room. 

“You're still wet.” Simon’s fingers trail across the fabric on his skin and then he feels them slip beneath the silk of his shirt and takes in a sharp breath when he feels them trace over his cool skin, rapidly heating beneath his touch. 

“Yeah,” Wille whispers, leaning forward slightly, pressing his nose to the other mans, their foreheads leaning against each other as he waits for him to move closer and close the gap between them. 

It’s a torturous wait. Wilhelm can feel his heart in his throat and the way his body is alive and thrumming with electricity 

Simon kisses him then, and this time he’s not drunk and Wilhelm feels an overwhelming euphoria at the feeling of him in his arms. He pulls him in close, and they fall back against each other, gripping each other as close as they can. 

The door to the bathroom opens and Simon gasps, pulling back with wide eyes meeting his, expression panicked as they hear people in the sitting lounge, coming closer. Wille can practically feel the other’s heartbeat racing against his chest as they quickly stumble together into a stall and close the fancy floor-to-ceiling door. 

They stay frozen in place, both of them quiet, trying to control their breathing as they hear voices and the sound of running water. Wilhelm isn’t even sure why they are hiding like this, but he isn’t thinking about much except how close he is to the other and the way his lips feel caught in his teeth.  

“Shh” Simon presses a finger to his lips and Wilhelm doesn’t know what’s taken hold of him when he leans forward and bites gently at the finger, pleased to see how the other man’s eyes widen and his cheeks darken at the move.

This version of Wilhelm is bold and brave somehow. There’s something empowering about it, the knowledge that if he just made a noise they could be discovered. It does something to him, and makes him proud, because he’s no longer timid and quiet. He’s learned to own this side of himself, Wille knows that. 

He takes Simon’s finger into his mouth without a word and he can see how the other shifts, how his breathing grows louder in the quiet of the bathroom stall. His eyes follow him tightly and Wilhelm smirks as he catches his dark, surprised gaze.

Sliding down to his knees, he hears Simon’s breath hitch as he undoes his belt and then the button to his pants with slow and careful movements.

Simon opens his mouth as though he’s about to say something but Wilhelm looks up at him through his fringe and presses a finger to his own lips, smirking as the voices continue to speak.

Simon is half hard against the fabric of his underwear and Wilhelm leans forward to kiss his navel, hands peeling down the waistband of his underwear as he trails kisses down further. 

When he pushes the fabric free, there’s a kind of electricity that seems to take him as he feels the other tense when he takes him into his hand and then between his lips.

The sensation of having him in his mouth is almost overwhelming, the musky taste and the heaviness of him against his tongue, the softness of his skin. But the way he can see Simon arch his lithe body against the wall of the bathroom stall, the way he bites down on the palm of his hand to keep the sounds trapped in his throat. The way his expressions change rapidly across his features is fascinating and unfairly hot and Wilhelm imagines what it would be like to see him like this, above him, inside of him.

Simon makes a tiny sound, a whimper, lost in the sound of the faucet running water.

There are footsteps that indicate the people have left the bathroom and Simon lets out a tiny, shaking breath, looking down to meet his gaze, running his fingers through Wilhelm's hair almost like a caress. They tighten into the strands as Wilhelm meets his gaze, continuing to work on his cock. 

“Fuck….” Simon breathes out as their eyes meet and he takes a sharp intake of breath, hissing as his eyes and nose scrunch up in an adorable way that would make Wille laugh if he wasn’t otherwise occupied.

The other man’s fingers tighten in his hair, almost painfully but he can’t help the groan he lets out around Simon. He wants to be handled roughly, wants to feel too much so that he can’t feel anything else except the man’s fingers pulling at his scalp and his jaw and throat aching.

Heat curls into his belly as the fingers tighten again, harder this time and he looks up to see Simon watching him, eyes open and glazed over, a flush, barely visible to his cheeks. He looks so pretty and debauched as his chest rises and falls quickly pupils blown wide and impossibly dark.

“Do you like it when I do that?” He murmurs and Wille feels a shiver race down his spine as he nods, Simon still heavy on his tongue.

“Fuck Wille—“ The other man hisses staring down at him, pulling tightly until it aches and forcing his up so that he can see his face better.

Wilhelm groans again, faltering slightly in his ministrations as the heat in him begins to climb to a burning point deep in the center of him.

He needs more, he needs to be ruined by him, needs something to grasp onto desperately and pull him out of the apathy he feels for everything. 

He can feel Simon restraining himself, trying to keep his hips still as he licks and sucks and uses his hand on the base on him. The most beautiful, desperate noises are spilling from his lips, filling the quiet of the bathroom stall. He wants to hear him, to feel him lose control under his hands and mouth and use Wilhelm for his pleasure and his pleasure only.

It would almost be a little frightening if he weren’t so turned on by it. 

Wilhelm pulls back then, gripping at his hips until they must be practically bruising him, the other man gasps sharply, whimpering and looking down at him in flushed confusion. “Simon I want you to fuck my mouth.” He says in a rough voice, practically begging, the other's eyes widen when he says the words and there’s a shuddering breath that he lets out.

“Please.” Wille murmurs and Simon looks at him with a mixture of heated arousal and concern written across his face. He reaches down with a hand stroking his fingers over his cheekbone as if in a daze.

“Hell Wille you’re so…..” 

His breath is quickening and the ache in his core and his jaw burns pleasantly, but he needs more, he’s tired of feeling fragile. Wilhelm licks his own lips to wet them and sees Simon follow the motion swallowing. 

The other man’s cock is hard and shining and so tempting pressed against his lips as he murmurs again, “ Please Simon.”

The other man lets out a tight sound and grips his hair again so that he can no longer move his head away, his cock pushes past his lips and Wille welcomes it, moaning at the force he’s using to hold his head in place as Simon begins to fuck into his mouth just like he wanted. 

“ Fuck… fuck…oh..Wille…” 

They should have agreed on a safe word or action because it is a little rough, and he chokes slightly, eyes burning as Simon’s hips push into him, all he can feel and taste and breathe is Simon. Simon Simon Simon. 

He feels the other beginning to unravel, hears the filthy noises they make, and the sharp razor-like breathing that cuts through the silence of the bathroom.

It’s more uncomfortable than he thought it would be, but it isn’t painful really, it’s just overwhelming to feel so vulnerable and controlled by someone else, it’s so much and he feels light-headed as the other arches against the wall, lost and gone in his pleasure, fingers buried tightly in his hair. He can barely breathe but it’s so fucking hot and he feels the moment that Simon is about to come, forces himself to look as the man throws his head back, a sheen on his neck and forehead, lips parting open in a deep whine that vibrates throughout his entire body as he spills quickly and hot into Wilhelm's mouth.

It’s like a vision of euphoria, blind white behind his eyelids as Wille moans, certain that he’s somehow connected to the other man’s very nerves in the way his own body is shaking, the way he realizes after an electric moment that he’s uncomfortably damp in his own underwear, that he had come as well just from being manhandled. He pulls back, flushed and breathing hard, wiping at his mouth and he tries to calm his racing heart.

Simon has a hand over his mouth, breathing still just as hard in the space between them. He stumbles slightly as he tries to right himself but his whole body seems to be loose and melted. Wille sees as his eyes briefly dark lashes fluttering against his cheek. 

“That was….” Simon murmurs, the first to speak. Wille thought it would feel stranger than this to come back to reality after what they’ve just done, but it doesn’t really. He runs a hand through his hair, fingers catching on the perspiration on his forehead. His body feels like liquid gold, full of an easy satiated warmth that spreads up from his toes to his fingertips. 

His knees ache from kneeling on the cold polished stone floors and when Wille gets to his feet as Simon is fixing himself he finds himself suddenly close to him again, with very little space between them in the small stall.

Simon swallows and he looks almost nervous, eyes wide, pulling back slightly from him. Wilhelm swallows, looking down at the shorter man, the bliss he had felt beginning to recede back into the sharp edges and angles of real life.

“Are you okay?” He can’t help but ask, it’s who he is, always self-conscious that he’s done something wrong.

A dry chuckle escapes the lips of the other. Wilhelm can’t help the way he focuses on them, their shape, the rough place where he had been biting. They are still so close that he can’t get away from the memory of what it felt like to kiss him again after so long. 

“Um…more than okay.” Said lips turn up into a cheeky smile, really more of a smirk. “What about you though…I'm sorry I didn’t mean to—-without warning.“ Simon gestures down at him, “Should I—“

“No I’m good. More than good. It’s what I wanted…really…and don’t worry about me” He grins, still slightly embarrassed and sees Simon eyes widen a bit before he relaxes slightly and nod reaching forward to push a strand of hair from his forehead.

Without really thinking, still feeling the magnetism that had seemed to draw them together he leans forward to kiss Simon, but instead of melting into the kiss like he had done earlier, the other man goes a bit tense.

Immediately, sensing the change in him Wilhelm pulls back and he’s about to apologize when they hear the door open loudly and a group of people enters, high heels clacking against the polished flooring.

Both of them freeze, staring at each other before Wille feels his cheeks flush hot. There are feminine voices and laughter from outside the stall and then they both jump when someone knocks on the stall door.

“Hello?….”

They look at each other again, trying to remain as still and quiet as possible and the person on the other side tries again.

“Fucking hell I have to piss like a pregnant woman”

“Here Madeleine use this one it’s open…” someone says from in the distance and they both breathe small sighs of relief as the woman leaves for the other stall.

If he was a normal person, he would be focused on trying to not get caught in a stall with someone at an event like this, but all he can think about is Simon. The way he had tensed and pulled away and the hesitation and the brief flash of panic he had seen in his eyes.

The quiet builds into an awkward sort of tension as they try to look anywhere but at each other, while Wille still tries to sneak glances without Simon noticing. 

Finally, after what seems like forever, the women trickle out again leaving them in silence. Slowly they meet each other's gaze.

“That was close…”

“Listen, Simon, I'm sorry about that—-“ He means to apologize for kissing him without making sure it was okay, but it’s just hard to know where the line is now after what happened. But his words are cut off as Simon speaks.

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to do that you know….” The other man cuts him off.

Genuinely confused, he blinks at him, “Do what?”

“Kiss me and stuff after…I know you’re not looking for anything more than a hookup and honestly, I shouldn’t even be doing this anyway. I just got out of a relationship like I told you and I promised myself I would stay away from all of this for a while. So really, this is better anyway.”

Wille stares at him, confusion melting away as he realizes what the other really means. He’s not interested in him. And this was nothing but a hook-up at a party. 

He recognizes it immediately, his own pattern. It's something he’s done so many times that he should have thought of it before. Honestly, Wille is not so sure why he feels something burrow beneath his ribcage, sitting there sour and bitter.  

They barely know each other and they definitely don’t owe each other anything. Maybe he had just thought for a second that this would be….well he’s not sure what the hell he was thinking. 

“Like this was really…really great and fun…but look things don’t have to be awkward at work. I just started there and I’d really like to have you as a friend in the office…so please don’t worry. You don’t have to let me down easy or be careful what you say around me. We can just forget it happened.”

Wille stares at him, but Simon’s expression is open and earnest and genuine and he realizes that he’s worried they’ve somehow fucked up the easygoing dynamic they had begun to build with each other. There’s worry in his tone and Wille feels his head spin a bit.

Everything he’s said is perfectly reasonable and honestly quite mature. There’s no reason something like this should affect anything. They are both adults, they can be mature about it. 

But it feels almost…it hurts a little to hear let’s just forget about it when this is the second time they’ve fallen into each other like this and when Wille isn’t so sure he wants to forget about it again. 

“Just pretend like it didn’t happen.” He repeats a bit robotically as his brain catches up. Simon nods, biting his lip, looking up into his face.

“It doesn’t have to change anything you know?” Wilhelm sees the worry and nervous energy radiating off of him and he swallows the things he wants to say and nods, smiling a bit though the expression feels strange.

“Yeah. Of course, it doesn’t change anything…or it doesn’t have to. No worries.”

Simon sighs a bit as though he’s relieved and nods as well, looking up at him again through his eyelashes. “Yeah okay. Great.” He runs a hand through his curls, they are messy and tangled from where Wille’s hands had been buried in them earlier. 

“Um…we should probably leave separately,” Simon murmurs looking at the stall door and Wille finds himself nodding. 

“I’ll just stay and fix myself up…a bit…” he feels his face flush as he stands awkwardly in the stall and senses Simon’s gaze drop, a dusky flush crossing his cheeks as well. 

“Right….okay…um…thank you then for…” Wille watches as the other’s face pales realizing what he’s thanking him for, his words trailing off.

“Thanks?” Wilhelm reiterates, raising an eyebrow.

Silence.

They stare at each other and then Wilhelm lets out a loud laugh that makes Simon jump in surprise at the sheer absurdity of the situation. It’s so stupid, but he can’t stop laughing and soon the other man is joining alongside him a hand over his mouth and eyes scrunched into crescents 

Simon opens the door, biting his lip as he ducks out and looks back at him. There’s still a flush to his cheeks but the awkwardness no longer hangs in the air and Wilhelm feels lighter when he grins at him.

The other man mirrors his expression, a mischievous gleam in his eyes when he gives him a wave and shuts the door in his face.

“See you later Wille.” He says a laugh still in his voice as it drifts further away.

Wilhelm laughs softly, leaning back against the wall of the bathroom stall and closing his eyes, running a hand through his hair for a moment before he lets out a long grounding sigh.

It’s fine this way. It’s good. He likes being friends with Simon. Sure he’s probably too attracted to him for his own good and hell…now that he knows what he looks like lost in pleasure, what he tastes like, and what he sounds like when he comes….

He groans softly and runs his hand over his face several times in quick succession shaking the image out of his head.

Simon has set the boundaries and he is going to accept that. He doesn’t want to make things difficult for him after all. 

After he cleans up and puts himself back together, Wille leaves the stall going to the marble sink with its expensive soaps and fancy mirrors, and washes his hands, looking up at his reflection in the glass.

His hair is a mess , his scalp slightly sore from where Simon had gripped him tightly, fingers twisted into the strands, Wilhelm can still remember the feeling. His clothes are disheveled, wrinkled, and askew and he wonders if his friends will be able to tell what he’s been up to just by looking at him, absently as he runs a finger along his bottom lip remembering what he has just done.

_____________

Later he finds Nils and Felice, who interrogate him for a while about where he had gone before losing interest. Simon has disappeared claiming to his sister he had a headache apparently. It’s a bit disappointing that he really left after that.

But then. In the Uber to Nil’s place where he plans to crash that night he feels his phone vibrate, a message from an unknown number lighting up his screen.

unknown

hey it’s Simon. I got your number from maddie hope that’s okay.

unknown

hope you get back safe. see you monday! think about where you want to go for lunch. my treat.

And Wille smiles, turning the phone over in his lap and looking out as the city goes by, lit up in the darkness. His friends are sleeping in the back so there’s no one to question him when he takes up his phone and writes back.

me

see you 🙂 don’t worry I’ll think of something

me

goodnight simon

It's only a few seconds before he feels his phone buzz, he's just finished changing his name in his contact list.

simon

goodnight 🙂 

Chapter Text

It’s early Sunday morning and Simon can’t sleep. Normally he likes sleeping in but he hadn’t slept well that night and for some reason, he can’t get himself to fall back asleep. Everything feels uncomfortable and the apartment is too quiet. Simon stares up at his ceiling, back against the mattress as he runs a hand through his sleep-mussed curls.

He had left the party last night after he and Wille had stolen away from the event downstairs in exchange for hooking up on the floor above. And sure the bathroom had been extremely clean and fancy with its polished stone floors and sparkling marble, but fucking hell it had still been a toilet and Simon feels something like shame curl in his belly as he drops his hand back onto the mattress and frowns at the cracks in his ceiling like it’s their fault.

Hooking up with Wille had been a stupid mistake. He had just gotten out of a relationship and had just decided to work on himself. He had just started this new job and just started to feel like he and Wille were becoming friends and then he had let his dick think for him instead of his head.

He’s not ashamed of having a sexual encounter on a whim, not at first thought at least. Logically he knows there's nothing inherently wrong with it, but it’s complicated and layered because he’s not so sure he was in the best state of mind to have made that decision last night, not that any of that is on Wille himself. The other man couldn’t have known everything Simon was grappling with, and he had initiated the whole thing and had given him nothing but green lights as it had progressed.

Simon just doesn’t understand why he had felt that he needed it so badly, there must be something wrong or twisted with him. He had just broken up with Marcus the fucking day before.

In all honesty, Simon knows part of the reason he had let that happen was because he felt lonely and he liked Wille. He hadn’t been lying when he told the other he had wanted a distraction from everything, but hell…dancing, talking…those are perfectly viable methods of being distracted. Why is he so quick to chase physicality whenever he feels like he’s failed at something?

Well, he knows why. Actually, over the years Simon has gotten rather good at recognizing this part of himself even if he doesn't want to admit it.

There is something inside of him that wants, needs to feel needed, to know that someone wants him in return. Simon knows that being desired gives him confidence and a heady rush of self-assurance that he gets from so little else. Being chased or sought after by someone, especially someone like Wille, who is attractive and talented and draws people to him like a beacon. If someone like Wille, who probably has a pick of whoever he wants, if someone like him wants Simon it has to mean that at least he hasn’t failed there.

It’s kind of fucked the more he thinks about it, because even though he knows that Wille was the one who had taken things further, and he’s pretty sure they were on the same page afterwards, he almost feels a little guilty using the other man to work out whatever fucked up shit is going on in his own head.

Wille is nice and funny and easy to talk to. He’s the kind of person who actually listens intently when someone opens up to him or needs an ear and supportive shoulder. He’s the kind of person who is constantly checking in on the people he cares about, Simon has already noticed that in the brief interactions, he’s been privy to between Wille and his friends. He is a genuinely good person, and he doesn’t deserve to deal with all of Simon's bullshit.

Simon feels so drawn to him, there’s such a pull toward him that he can’t really explain or understand. Maybe it’s the calm steadiness he exudes, the complete opposite of Simon's own frenetic energy. Maybe part of the reason he’s so drawn to him is that he just wants to absorb that quiet confidence into his bones and let all the things he’s been carrying with him for so long roll off his back

But Wille has his own burdens, doesn’t he? The more he learns about him, the more he feels like despite the easygoing, assurance that he exudes, that is has been forged from a place of darkness. He knows now that he definitely has had a difficult time with his family, and he must have gone through some painful times before now.

Simon wonders how he had found the strength to come out of whatever it was he had gone through and he wishes that Wille might impart his secrets because it just feels like his own life is growing farther and farther out of his control.

He can’t bear laying in bed feeling like he’s growing into his mattress any longer, so finally Simon gets up, leaving the sheets tangled and messy, to pull on his hoodie and a puffy jacket and grab a fresh pair of black jeans from the drawer.

Today he has plans to meet Sara near the central train station for lunch before she leaves Stockholm. His sister had stayed over with Felice after Simon insisted he was fine and that she didn’t have to leave with him. She had been able to tell something was going on, but he had been obtuse and adamant that she stay out and enjoy her time. Sara knew better than anyone how useless it was to argue with his stubborn and hardheaded nature so she had hugged him and kissed his cheek goodnight and told him she would see him the next day.

They aren’t due to meet for at least another four hours, but there's restless energy under his skin, a feeling like he needs to move and escape his own head before his thoughts catch up with him and pull him under, so he decides to take a bus early into the city centre and grab a coffee and just wander around a bit before heading towards the station.

______________

Stockholm is as silent as a grave on Sunday mornings.

Simon remembers going to Venezuela as a kid with his mother and sister to visit family. There it had felt like the world never stopped moving, the streets always full of life, of cars and motorbikes and vendors pushing giant carts with fruits. No matter how early or late the place had been made of kinetic energy, a tumultuous, breathtaking world of colour and smell and sound that never truly fell quiet.

His mother had joked that it suited Simon and his hectic nature and in many ways, he had felt more at ease there, where the energy had matched him somehow, rather than in the place he had grown up, where sometimes he felt like a frantic thing let loose on too quiet streets and hushed halls.

Even in the centre of the city, the streets feel empty. Devoid of cars or people. There’s the occasional jogger or someone out with a stroller or their dog, but otherwise, it’s eerily silent. The broad streets are bare, the shops and office buildings empty and standing like silent sentries as he passes by.

Sometimes Simon likes to imagine he’s in some kind of zombie film after the disaster when he’s out at this time. Like he’s the hero in a post-apocalyptic world braving the outside while the threat lurks in the darkness. Sometimes he just wants to scream and see if anyone, anyone at all reacts.

As he’s walking he finds himself passing a church, one he’s passed many times before, it towers above him on the top of a hill, with its stone facade cutting an impressive silhouette against a bleak, sky of early autumn heavy with clouds of grey.

Simon’s steps slow to a stop as he looks up at the intricate design of the stained glass, it doesn't sparkle in the dullness of the pale light, but it’s beautiful all the same and the colours and patterns draw him in. It reminds him of when he was young and his mother would wake him early for mass at the small Catholic Church outside of Bjärstad she had insisted on going to, even though it was out of her way because a Catholic Church even in Swedish had made her feel more at home.

Once he had gotten older, once things in his house had gotten slowly worse until they were unbearable he had stopped going to mass altogether. His mother had eventually as well, or at least she had, Simon thinks she’s started to go back in recent years.

He’s not sure what brings him up to the large wooden door of the church, but he can hear coming from inside the sound of the choir, singing and he remembers as a child, sitting in the pews and listening to the choir, the swell of human voices wash over him a multitude of voice joining into one living, breathing thing that gave him goosebumps and had him on the edge of his seat in awe.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors into the entrance he can hear the music much louder now, all around him, resonating inside of him somehow. Simon hesitates for a moment before walking through the doorway and slipping into a wooden pew at the very back of the church unnoticed and unmarked.

The choir's voices rise above them, filling the arched dome ceiling with music and it feels powerful somehow, grounding. This merging of human voices pulls at something inside of him that for so long has felt buried in his chest. Simon’s love of music has always been inextricably linked to both of his parents and in his mother's case, it had started here, deeply rooted in a religion she had brought with her from her homeland, in the hymns and liturgies that had captivated him as a boy.

He stays there for a long time, listening until he feels something on his cheek and when he brushes his fingers across the skin he pulls them back in surprise to stare at the shine of wetness there on his fingertips.

The last time he was inside a church had been for a funeral, a last goodbye to a person who Simon had spent so much of his life hating and loving in the same breath. Because his father had screwed up in so many ways and Simon had so many dark and painful memories tied to him and that time living under his roof but he could somehow never forget the good memories before everything changed, the summers by the lake, the concerts they had gone to together, him teaching him to play the guitar and keyboard in their dingy living room with its yellowing wallpaper and it’s too lumpy couch.

Because if his connection to music had been piqued by the choirs of his youth sitting in a small church beside his mother, then it had been born and forged by his father and those two things could never be disconnected.

Music had been their thing. The thing that only the two of them had really shared. Sara had never been interested in learning, but Simon had been in love with music, hungry to learn everything he could and create and his father had taught him everything he knew.

Simon remembers afternoons after school listening to old classic albums, listening to his father pluck away at the chords to House of the Rising Sun , hearing him sing along and grin over at Simon who was staring at him in awe. Like he had hung the very sun in the sky himself.

How is it that two incredibly different images of the same person can coexist at the same time in his mind?

It’s been almost a year since Micke died, but Simon still feels so angry . It’s been almost a year since he hadn’t touched his keyboard or his guitar, since the lyrics and music he used to write in his notebooks, all of his inspiration had fallen apart, running like sand through his fingers as he desperately tried to catch it.

Something about being here feels circular in a way, but it’s also painful because it brings back childhood things that feel more like adult things and reminds me of how tired he is of running from it all. Simon closes his eyes as the song shifts and lets the music live inside of him, feeling the ache that comes from filling the space where it used to be, a reminder that part of him that once existed has been missing for so long.

He’s not listening to the words. Simon isn’t particularly religious like his mother's side of the family, but music is a universal language and he can feel the strength and tranquillity that exudes from the source of this hymn. The beauty of it is a prayer lifted, hope and sorrow and joy tangled in all of the things that encapsulate the human experience.

It hurts, it aches to feel like his connection to this part of his identity and his history has been severed. It hurts to admit that despite all of the years he had spent convincing himself he hated his father, to know that his connection to music and making music was so entrenched in the memories of that man that it had been buried along with him.

He hates the power it has over him, but more than that he wishes he could have it back, he wishes that all of this wasn’t so complicated.

Simon thinks he is twisted up in so many ways. He’s too needy, too clingy, and too lonely. So he looks for love in people who treat him like a convenience, people who will never love him the way he wants to be loved, people who just want to use him for their own benefit.

He runs when things get difficult and he fucks up the opportunities he’s given because he can’t envision the future, he’s too caught up in the past.

Like music, which is one of the things he loves more than anything in this entire world, the language he knows best, even better than the ones that forged his tongue. Music is inextricably coiled together with those memories of him, and even though Simon has spent a long time running once his father died he had felt as though part of him had as well, and he could no longer pretend not to understand.

There’s a large part of Simon who hates himself for grieving over the loss of a man that tore his family apart, Marcus certainly hadn’t understood it, had lost his temper and his patience with him over it, but Simon just can’t separate the two. His father is a part of him whether he likes it or not, he lives on in the music he makes because it was him after all who had taught him to nurture that passion, to harness it and turn it into more than just ideas, turn it into something tangible.

He truly is his parent's child.

There’s a noise, a shift on the pew next to him and he turns to see an older woman smiling kindly at him. He realizes with a start that she is wearing a priest's shirt and collar.

“The service is finished now, of course, you’re welcome to stay, but just wanted to say thank you for joining us.”

He sits up straighter, looking around and realizing that the choir is indeed gone and the pews are emptying, he had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed what was happening around him, “Oh…”

“Is everything alright young man?” She asks and he is confused until he realizes that his cheeks still feel wet. His stomach turns with mortification and he feels the back of his neck hot and flushed.

“It’s okay. Thank you…uh, I should go.”

The priest nods and stands up when he does as well, “Thank you for coming in, you’re welcome back any time of course.”

He nods, straightening his clothes which have become slightly wrinkled, and gives her a weak smile before he slips out the pew and the doors and down the hill to the street.

Simon takes a deep breath once his shoes are on the sidewalk once more, casting a furtive look up at the looming building he has just come from. He is meeting Sara soon and he doesn't want to meet her when he's feeling raw like this, so he forces his breathing to even out, takes several more deep breaths and squares his shoulders, gripping onto the strap of his bag as he heads toward the central station on foot.

____________

The next day he’s dreading work. He hasn’t entirely managed to shake the melancholy of Sunday, it’s still there, clinging to him when he had woken up that morning.

Yesterday he had said goodbye to Sara before she had gone back home and his sister had hugged him extra tight and told him she was proud of him.

For what?

He wonders if she would feel the same if she knew all of the shit that was going through his head.

The office building is just ahead, glass and metal and concrete. It looks exactly the same as it did last week when he had come here for the first time. The lobby is still just as glossy and as he swipes in with his SocialFly badge and gets in the elevator to feel just as out of place with the young professionals in their sharp suits and expensive watches as he did the first time.

Simon wonders when this sense of dread, this feeling of what has my life come to? will go away. Will he ever feel content to take this elevator and get off on his floor and make his way to a desk and a computer of client emails and countdowns until lunchtime, until weekends, until holidays.

Stepping inside the office he smiles at some of the people who look toward him, before making his way to that same desk and that same computer.

He’s accosted by Maddie just as he’s setting his things down.

“Hey!” She says, “Rosh told me to tell you to check your message and answer them about game night next week.”

“Game night? So that’s still on? Are you going to join?” He and his roommates used to have a board game night every month or so. Ayub’s friend usually joined and sometimes even Marcus when they couldn’t find anyone else.

Maddie stares at him and snorts, “Hell no I’m not going to your nerd fest. I don’t know how to play Fix It or Nicknames or whatever you call them.”

Simon winces, “It’s Dixit…and Codenames —-“

“See? I love Rosh, but that’s just not my thing. Have fun though.”

Simon rolls his eyes with a small laugh, “Fine fine…oh where did you get that?” He points to the croissant in her hand, wrapped in a napkin, it’s big and fat and beautiful looking and he hadn’t managed to eat anything before leaving so his stomach gives a little hungry twist as the smell of butter reaches him.

“Oh, this? Wille brought a box, they are over there better grab one before they are gone. Everyone loves when he brings pastries to the office.” She points at the table over by the small kitchenette.

“Lunch together?” She continues and he’s about to agree when he remembers that he promised to treat Wille today. He considers turning her down, but then he remembers the tryst in the bathroom on Saturday evening and feels the back of his neck heat up, thinking it could be a good idea actually to have her there as a buffer.

“Oh actually I’m going with Wille…but you could join us?”

“Yeah? Sure sounds good” she shrugs giving him a small smile before she excuses herself to her desk.

He wanders over to the table where the croissants are and opens the box only to be greeted with nothing but crumbs.

“Morning.”

The voice next to his ear makes him jump as he turns to see Wille beside him, wearing a soft, pastel floral sweater and leather boots. There’s a long dangling chain from one of his ears and his nails have a fresh coat of nail polish, white this time to replace the black that had been chipping off on Saturday.

They’ve traded a few messages since then, but they haven’t really talked, and they certainly haven’t seen one another since hooking up which has Simon feeling slightly flushed for some reason. His gaze sweeps over the purposefully messy way he’s styled his hair and Simon can’t help but remember the wrecked way his hair had looked after Simon had had his fingers twisted into it, the way he had looked up at him through his eyelashes with his lips wrapped around his...

Oh hell.

He tears his eyes off of the taller man, Simon really can’t think about that now.

“Morning...I guess I missed the croissants…” he trails off awkwardly and gives a small laugh as he gestures to the empty box.

“Rule number one, come early whenever there are pastries.” Comes the reply, dipped in a hint of amusement that sets some of Simon’s nerves at ease. There's no reason they can’t be at ease around each other right? Obviously, Wille isn’t having the same weird hangups that he seems to be about this. Simon forces himself to look back at him and sees the freckled grin and the amusement he had heard in his voice reflected in brown eyes.

“Oh, there are rules? What’s rule number two?”

Wille scrunches his nose up, looking furtively around the room before turning a conspiratory look towards him and procuring a croissant from somewhere behind his back and presses it into his hand. It’s wrapped in a green IKEA napkin, crummy and delicious smelling, “Rule number two, make friends in high places.”

Simon stares, looking down at the croissant and back to Wille, “You can’t give me yours, you brought them it wouldn’t be fair if I—-“

“I saved this one for you. I already had one I promise,” the other man gestures to his desk where there’s a plate with nothing left but buttery crumbs.

“Oh….” Simon trails off and looks from the croissant to Wille’s open expression. It’s ridiculously sweet of him, to have thought of Simon and saved one of these for him. It’s stupid, but he’s distinctly aware that Marcus never did something like that for him, in fact, he’s not sure any of the guys he had dated before had been that thoughtful, not that he and Wille are dating or that he should be comparing them in that way, “Thank you, Wille.”

“Of course.”

He takes the pastry from the others outstretched hand and smiles a bit, “So should I call you the croissant fairy?”

Wille snorts, “Don’t ever use that nickname around Nils or he will never stop calling me that. He will especially love the fairy part of that specific moniker.”

That gets a laugh out of Simon and he shakes his head, thinking back to the man, two years their senior, “You are good friends with him right? Is he doing well since Hillerska?”

“He’s a menace.” Wille sighs, but there is a faint smile on his lips and his tone is affectionate as he continues to speak, “But he’s excellent, ferocious and prodigious as always. Actually, he told me to tell you hello since he didn’t get a chance to speak with you on Saturday.”

And there it is. The reminder of what had happened on Saturday and why Simon had ducked out so early.

“Tell him I said hi.” Simon murmurs and then looks at the croissant in his hand, awkwardly raising it, “Thanks again for this…”

“I'm just glad you came before I was tempted to eat it myself.” Wille smiles, giving no sign of being flustered from bringing up the party the way Simon feels like he must be. God he must seem so ridiculous, he was the one who has said not to make it a big deal after all.

“Isn’t it me who owes you though? I still have to buy you lunch.” Simon changes topics and sees his face light up a bit, crooked grin forming on his lips.

“You’re right. I actually picked a place for us to go today.”

Simon swallows, unsure why he feels strange saying his next words, “By the way I invited Maddie since she asked me if I wanted to go to lunch with her. I figured we could all go together.”

Whatever Wille was about to say next is swallowed as he looks up from his phone and makes an oh sound. Simon immediately regrets it, unsure of why exactly it’s making him feel so uncomfortable, “I mean…are you okay with that? I didn’t ask you but I thought you wouldn’t mind since we are all at the same office…..”

Wille pauses for a moment, just a brief second really and then he smiles, “Of course not. It’ll be fun.”

There’s an awkward stretch of silence and then Simon raises his croissant, gesturing back to his desk. “Well…thanks again for this. I was starving so it’s thanks to you I’m not skipping breakfast for once.”

“Glad to hear I’m helping you get on a more regular eating schedule.” Wille grins a bit, shifting where he’s standing, “Well, I have work to do believe it or not, and I’m doing this speaking engagement thing after lunch so I should probably get to it.”

They split, going back to their respective desks and Simon casts a furtive glance back at the other man as he slides into his weird ergonomic chair, eyes glued to his phone typing away,

He feels a little bad for inviting Maddie without clearing it with him first, but he’s not sure why he should feel that way when they never established that it was supposed to be a one-on-one thing.

Simon wonders if they hadn’t hooked up on Saturday, if he would be having the same reservations. It shouldn’t be weird to be in the same space with him, they shouldn’t have to act strange around each other. Hell Simon had been the one who had said just that.

He looks over at Maddie, also on her phone, a smirk on her lips as she types away to whoever is on the other line. He wonders if she would be terribly offended if he rescinded the offer. The idea itself makes him cringe inside, it’s so fucking rude to take back an invitation, even if he hadn’t meant to offer it in the first place.

However, it turns out that he doesn’t have to.

A few minutes before they are supposed to meet in front of the elevator he gets a message from Maddie.

Maddie

Hey Simon thanks for inviting me

Maddie

I totally forgot i needed to get something down for a client so I’m going to eat at my desk today but thank you sooo much again

Maddie

Lets try again this week?

He stares at the messages feeling both a sense of relief and panic come over him as his eyes find Wilhelms profile from across the way. Okay, so he is going to be one on one with him after all.

Work goes by at a slow crawling pace. Simon is putting together some analytics for a client meeting that’s happening next week, while also fielding emails about s publication that's being released soon.

It’s mindless and hell he shouldn’t complain about having a job. He really should be fucking kissing the floor every time he walks in knowing that he is getting paid to sit his ass in an office chair and do things that he could manage in his sleep. But who dreams of doing this? What kid tells the world they want to be a client communications officer when they grow up?

And he feels so guilty for that voice in the back of his head telling him he’s better than this, that he was meant for something else. Simon looks around the office with so many very nice and easygoing people, looks at Maddie with her bare feet up in her chair, chatting away on a work call and Wille staring intensely at the screen of his computer as he tweaks a design and goes through the versions his team have sent.

None of them seem to have an issue, so why does he?

When lunchtime rolls around he feels his phone buzz and looks down to see that Wille has messaged him.

Wille

Lunch? Hope you like dim sum.

Me

Sounds good

Me

Btw maddie cant come so its just us 😊

Wille

Ah, no worries! Too bad tho :/

____________

Wille takes him to a food hall hidden beside an alley beneath one of the iconic bridges on Kungsgatan. A hundred different smells hit him as soon as he walks in, coming from the different stalls lining the walls. There is nearly every type of food someone could want all in one trendy locale with unpretentious benches set up in the center of the hall where they can sit down to eat. The two of them order their food at the counter of the dumpling place WIlle has picked out and take their trays over to a table to sit across from each other.

Simon isn't really sure what to talk about so he’s grateful for the distraction of the food in front of him. Wille makes a few comments here and there and asks a few questions, but other than that they mostly eat in silence.

After a while, Simon can sense the other watching him and he looks up with a tentative gaze as he meets WIlle’s eyes over his chopsticks.

“Hmm? Do I have something like…on my face or something?” Simon asks, reaching for his napkin.

“No…sorry I was just…” Wille’s lips twist a bit like he's having second thoughts about what he’s about to say and then he squares his shoulders, “Is everything okay Simon? Like between us? ”

Simon blinks at him, “Yeah.” He says quickly, maybe too quickly. “Of course it is.”

Wille looks down at the table, fidgeting with the napkin on his tray as he nods, “No look...I wanted to apologize for what happened. I’ve been thinking about it and I feel like I kind of pushed you into what happened on Saturday and I’ve felt awful about it—”

“What?” Simon cuts him off, he can’t help it. The words are so unexpected and surprising and the other man looks up nervously at his interjection, expression slightly pained.

“I mean we didn’t really talk about it before it happened and afterwards…I know you said to forget it. And that’s fine, I just hope I didn’t move too fast—”

Something equal parts endeared and embarrassed blooms in his stomach as he watches Wille struggle to come out with the words and he shakes his head, reaching across the table to tap the space in front of the man and get his attention, “Wille…no. No really…it’s okay. We are both grown men, it wasn’t a big deal. I know I said that we should just stay friends afterwards and I meant that, but I don’t…” He is about to say he doesn’t regret it, but the truth is that he’s not really sure if he does or not. All he knows is that him feeling regretful doesn’t have anything to do with Wille personally, it’s all his own bullshit that's twisting around in his mind and Wille just happened to be unlucky enough to have gotten tangled up in it as well. “It’s okay. Really.”

“That’s just it though…” The other man sighs and winces as though a thought has just occurred to him, he looks up to meet Simon’s gaze with a worried pull of teeth on his lip, “I just thought maybe if we had talked about it it wouldn’t have happened...I should have talked to you first.”

And maybe that’s true, but again Simon had spent time feeling guilty about the fact that he had more or less used Wille to distract him from the fallout of his fucking breakup, so finding out the other has been going around feeling like he had done something wrong is awful to know, “Look. I was aware of what I was doing Wille. Was it the responsible choice? Maybe not. But it's not a big deal. We can be mature about this, it’s just sex. Please don’t feel like you did anything wrong.”

And then Simon sighs deeply, continuing before Wille has a chance to respond, “I just…look I have to be honest…last Friday I broke up with my boyfriend and I was feeling a little down that night…I wanted a distraction and I’m sorry if I led you on or something…it just felt nice to be close to someone.”

His cheeks flare up a bit, warm and so embarrassed as he admits it out loud, but when he chances a look at Wille the other is contemplative and there is an understanding that passes over his gaze. Warm brown eyes find his and Wille leans forward a bit, the empty bamboo basket forgotten on his tray.

“Are you okay?”

Simon wasn’t expecting that and he’s not so sure what he means by it so he leans forward a bit as well, “Okay with what?”

“No.” There's a laugh, an almost frustrated-sounding huff of amusement from Wille as he shakes his head, “I mean how are you doing? After the break-up?”

Oh.

And it strikes him then that no one had really asked him this question and meant it in the way that Wille does right now. Everyone who knew had just been relieved to know he had finally ditched Marcus, had assumed that of course Simon would be more than happy to be rid of him after everything the man had done. But none of them had taken a moment to consider if he was doing okay afterwards.

And the answer is that he’s not sure.

“I’m…I should be happy you know? And I am. It’s been a long time coming.” He frowns and looks down at his hands, drumming his fingertips across the metal surface, “It’s just complicated.”

“Relationships can be complicated.” Wille murmurs, “It’s okay not to know how to feel.”

He looks up and sees the genuine expression in the amber brown of his eyes and the sad kind of smile on his lips and Simon breathes out slowly, feeling a sense of relief enter the same time the air leaves him.

“Yeah. Marcus is…I mean he was an asshole don’t get me wrong. But I feel like I wasted so much time…I feel like I gave so much of myself for that relationship, I made a lot of compromises I probably shouldn’t have… so it didn’t feel so easy to just end it.”

“Sure.” Wille agrees.

“Thank you…for asking,” Simon says and he really means it, he didn’t think it would feel this freeing to talk to Wille about it, even if he’s really just paraphrasing, but somehow it does all the same. “I’ve just been in a strange mood. It’s not anything to do with you I promise. I’m just caught up in my head.”

Wille nods thoughtfully and looks over at him before he looks at his watch. “You want to play hooky with me for a bit?”

Simon blinks, staring at him, “Huh?”

“I’m giving a talk at my old art school.” Wille says, looking from his watch up at Simon from across the table, “About how digital art reshaped marketing and what kind of opportunities exist for artists in the industry...I made a PowerPoint and everything. I’m sure the majority of the students would rather gnaw their own arms off, but it’s about forty-five minutes and then I’m free. You want to tag along for “company support”?”

Simon’s eyes widen, “But the office—“

Wille shrugs, “The boss isn’t here today and half the office is work from home…unless you have something important to finish?”

He thinks about the emails he has to go through and the report he needs to read, but honestly, he can push that to tomorrow and it’s almost alarming how quickly he excuses himself from the rest of the day. “No, not really.”

The other man grins, “Then come watch me humiliate myself in front of kids way smarter than I am who would rather die than have a corporate job and then we can do the responsible thing and hide from our own corporate jobs.”

Simon looks at him for a moment, incredulous that someone technically in a position above him is encouraging him to skip but he grins a laugh escaping him, “You know what…okay.”

____________

They are at Wille’s old university, in a large classroom where Wille is giving his talk to a group of half-present nineteen and twenty-year-olds.

Earlier Wille had given him a very short tour and had taken him to get in what his words was “ the most mediocre coffee ever ” that he was currently nursing as he listens to the other speak at the front of the room. Simon is settled into the back of the classroom as Wille goes through his PowerPoint about how art has changed the face of digital marketing. He laughs under his breath as the man makes plenty of self-deprecating jokes that seem to go over most of the student's heads.

Maddie had messaged him asking where he is, but she hadn’t pressed him about returning to the office. Simon had left without too much to finish up, and in worst-case scenario will just go in a little early tomorrow in order to catch up, no harm done.

He takes a sip of the indeed very mediocre coffee and looks over to where he hears a group of female students in front of him whispering about the speaker being hot. The corners of his lips raise up slightly, eyes considering him as Wille gesticulates wildly and draws something on the board that finally gets some laughs out of the audience. Simon can’t help but smile at the scene, there's just something very charming and cosy about the other man. Even though Simon could care less about what he’s actually talking about, Wille just has such an endearing and likeable personality. He could probably be a salesman now that Simon thinks about it, he’s really just one of those people that could convince you into buying anything simply by flashing a fetching smile and doing that thing with his voice that makes him all the more appealing.

True to his word the class ends after around forty-five minutes or so and Simon watches as the students start the leave. The group of girls go down to talk to Wille, who engages them for a few minutes until it’s clear they are more interested in asking him personal questions than questions about his job, so with a grin and a soft laugh Simon hears the other man gently excusing himself.

Simon takes the last sip of coffee, eyes following him as he comes up the stairs to meet him.

“Are you ready to go?” Wille asks, slinging his tote over his shoulder and running a hand through his hair in a move that Simon is almost sure is purposeful to maintain that artfully tousled look he’s got going for him.

“Where are we going?” He asks, tossing the empty coffee cup into the bin. Honestly, they could go anywhere and Simon wouldn’t mind, would practically jump at the chance just to get away a bit. “By the way that coffee was superbly mediocre, you were very correct.”

“Of course I was.” Wille turns with a smirk and a mischievous glint in the brown of his eyes. “And I know exactly where we are going.”

“Which would be where?” Simon looks back over his shoulder at him, adjusting his bag.

“On vacation.”

____________

Vacation turns out to be one of the Stockholm Hop on Hop Off Sightseeing Busses for tourists. Simon stares as the garishly red double-decker comes to a rolling stop in front of them and Wille steps aside for him to get on.

“Wille…isn’t this kind of…I mean I've lived in this city for years…you grew up here—-“

“Who is Wille?” The other man replies in aggressively American-sounding English, earning a raised eyebrow from Simon as they climb up to the second level.

“Uh okay.”

Wille grins and pulls him toward a seat in front of the bus. “Look how high up we are.”

He’s still speaking English.

“What are you—-“

“Sorry, I don’t understand you. I don’t speak Swedish.” Wille looks over at him with a smirk and Simon blinks for a moment. This is stupid. This is so stupid.

Wille looks at him expectantly and finally, Simon takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment and sighing before looking back at him with a begrudging frown. “What are we doing?” He asks flatly in English as well, this isn’t what he expected and honestly, it's a bit too strange for him to follow.

“We are on vacation obviously. My name is Matthew and I’m just here to party bro.” Wille winks at him, loose and leaning back in the seat

Simon snorts, the expression on the other's face a little contagious if he’s being honest. “Okay, Matthew.”

“What’s your name then?”
He stares at the other man, incredulous. He really can’t expect Simon to play along with this, can he? But the expression on Wille’s face is earnest and sincere, and there is a playful challenge in his eyes as well that makes Simon want to laugh without abandon and get over his reservations or whatever it is holding him back from just being silly and dumb for once, so he swallows and closes his eyes with a long-suffering sigh that is mostly for show. “Okay. My name is…Diego.”

“Ohhh Diego is a mysterious sounding name.” Wille grins, head lolling to the side as the bus drives down the street. “So you see…Matthew was on his honeymoon in Copenhagen when his fiancée left him for the concierge so now he’s gone rouge, stole her credit cards and is on a whirlwind trip around the Nordics.”

Simon laughs despite himself, crossing his arms over his chest, “She left you for the concierge? What’s his deal? He got a bigger dick than you?” He hears the blonde snort and looks over to see a glint in his eyes.

“ Her deal you mean, how heteronormative of you to assume my wife left me for another man.” Wille smirks and Simon rolls his eyes. “Also I should remind you you’ve never actually seen my dick.”

Simon’s eyes widen, mouth opening in surprise as he looks back at him with an incredulous sort of shocked laugh, “Excuse me? Don’t forget you’re talking to Diego right now.”

“Not that Diego has seen it either.” Wille smirks, winking at him, “Anyway pretty sure she found out that Matthew was actually already married and has six kids waiting for him back in Florida. That and the concierge lady was just way hotter than Matthew.”

“Geez that’s irresponsible Matthew, leaving your six kids behind like that. But also sorry about your wife I guess.”

“It’s okay, she was way out of my league.” Wille sighs loudly, giving an animated shrug of his shoulders before looking back at him, “So what is Diego doing here in Stockholm of all places?”

Simon stares at him, his mind doesn’t come up with bullshit as fast as Wille’s seems to, “Diego is…..Diego just broke up…with his boyfriend. They were supposed to come here together, but instead of refunding his trip he just flew here alone.”

Something quiet goes through Wille’s gaze, but the other doesn’t comment on it, just nods. “Nice to meet you, Diego. But question. Did you do the breaking up or were you broken up with because that’s going to inform how I approach my next joke.”

Simon furrows his brow, laughing softly, “Um...he caught Alejandro with a flamenco dancer when they were on vacation in Spain. So he stole his passport and flew to Sweden.”

“Damn, that’s kind of spicy.” His eyebrows waggle suggestively, “ I guess Alejandro was hungry for more than just Paella.”

Simon snorts, “I thought you were going to make a joke.”

Wille, or Matthew , pushes at him with a wicked grin as the voiceover on the bus starts to describe the Royal Palace as they approach. It’s a large brown rectangular building, that’s not very pretty as far as palaces go here in Europe, but it’s a famous landmark and a point of tourism no matter how anti-monarchist Simon is.

“You think we will see the Queen?” Wille asks, still speaking in English and Simon snorts.

“Why don’t you hop the gate and go see if she’s home.” He replies overly sweet, gesturing to the top of the stairs where a guard is standing, “I’m sure her security won’t mind.”

Wille gasps softly, a hand to his chest, “Are you trying to get me arrested because Matthew is just gullible enough to try.” Wille looks out the window and then gets up nudging Simon’s shoulder, “Let’s get off here Diego .”

“Fine Matthew.”

And it’s fun to pretend to be someone else, to wander around his own city with new eyes and get pushed into tourist shops in Old Town, Wille stopping people and asking for directions in loud English and an overload smile.

They weave through the rambling cobblestone streets and then Wille disappears at some point when Simon is standing in line for another coffee, showing up again with a wide grin.

“Diego look! I got you something. You should know I’m your wingman here in Stockholm since your boyfriend…sorry ex-boyfriend decided to go bull riding in Spain”

He’s speaking loudly and in English and half the people in the cafe look up and over at them. Normally Simon would die on the spot from embarrassment, but he’s not really Simon is he? Diego is never coming back here again and Diego doesn’t really care what people think, so instead he just laughs and raises an eyebrow.

“Show me then?”

Wille pulls something white out from behind his back, a T-shirt that says “I ❤️ Swedish Boys” in bold black letters and Simon stares at it for a moment while his brain catches up.

“You can advertise your newly single status. Maybe someone will take interest.”

He laughs a little in confusion, brow furrowing as he reaches out for the fabric, “You’re not seriously expecting me to wear this Matthew .”

“Oh, I one hundred percent am expecting you to wear it.” Wille’s expression is serene. “It’s really such a high-quality piece of fashion and you really deserve it.”

There’s a moment where Simon knows he could refuse and leave and Wille wouldn’t push it, but the fun little moment they have created will be ruined and Simon doesn’t want that, isn’t ready to go back to his real life so he turns the fabric in his hand and snorts before turning toward the bathroom to change.

When he comes back out Wille looks him over and nods approvingly, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“How does it look?”

“Perfect.”

At some point, Simon ducks into a store to buy a particularly horrible-looking knit hat in the style of a Viking helmet, complete with fake braids and plastic horns for Wille to wear and he takes it immediately talking very loudly about how he just loves Vikings and how they simply have to go to the Viking restaurant, stopping someone in the street who stares at him with large eyes as he asks for directions.

“That guy thought you were going to rob him.” Simon nearly cackles as they turn and start down the stairs.

“Those standoffish Swedes.” The other man says in an exaggeratedly judgemental tone, a grin on his lips.

It’s silly and fun and not something Simon ever would have done before. In fact, if you had told him yesterday he would be sitting here having dinner with Wilhelm in a Viking-themed restaurant for tourists with staff in costume, drinking mead from a horn goblet he would have rolled his eyes.

But here he is laughing at all the inane things Wille is saying when the server comes by the talk to them, the storylines getting more and more complex as the night wears on.

The act drops finally as they finish up and leave the restaurant, finding themselves back on the main street of old town Stockholm, the buildings lit up against the darkened sky.

Simon is happier and more content than he’s been in days, but having switched his sweater for a T-shirt he feels the chill from the air despite the warmth in his chest. Wille looks over at him as Simon slides his hands into his pockets trying to keep some heat while looking up at the sky and the sharp roofs of the buildings, buttery yellow and saffron gold.

“This has been a really fun day.” The words are spoken quietly and in Swedish as he feels the night around them. Simon’s eyes catch the windows of a cafe, wax candles dancing happily in the reflection of the glass, delicious and fresh-looking cardamom and cinnamon buns on display.

Wille is still wearing that stupid hat. Simon looks over and reaches for it, pulling it off as the other man looks toward him with a small smile, swaying close to knock their hips gently together.

He shivers again and then he feels something warm over his shoulders and looks up in surprise as Wille slips his jacket over his shoulders.

“Aren’t you cold?” Simon asks and the other shakes his head.

“Not really.”

Simon reaches up to touch the article of clothing on his shoulders, the floral pastels look muted and washed out in the lighting, but it’s warm from where Wille has been wearing it all night and it smells like him, clean and woody, something like cedar or oak. He realizes it's the same thing he’s been smelling all afternoon, pressed up next to him. It’s comforting somehow. “Thanks.” He murmurs, looking away.

“Of course.” Simon can hear the grin in his voice even now that he’s purposefully not looking. “So what's your Yelp review then? As a fellow tourist who has absolutely obviously never been to this city before?”

Simon laughs again, full-bodied and easy. His shoulders and chest feel lighter somehow than they have in a while, “I mean..definitely not the most responsible thing to do skipping work to go on a sightseeing tour of the city we both live in. But I needed it I think. So thank you. Again.” He looks over at Wille who is watching him.

“I’m glad you had fun. So did I. Diego.”

Simon grins and runs a hand through his curls, “Diego is going back to Puerto Cabello where he belongs. Sorry, it’s just Simon left. Much less interesting I know.”

“I don’t think so,” Wille says and his voice is softer, the smile on his lips more genuine. “Between the two I like Simon the most I have to say.”

He feels his breath catch for a moment and swallows, “Well between the two of us…”

Wille leans in a bit when he drops his voice, “Matthew was kind of an asshole.”

Wille laughs hard at that and grins, pulling back to shake his head. “Well, he’s not coming back anytime soon so feel free to talk as much shit about him as you want.”

“Good to know.”

As they walk, their bodies turned toward each other, he feels the ease of conversation and how it flows between them without awkward gaps or stilted moments. It’s frighteningly easy to talk with Wille, something he already knew in a way, but hadn’t really had much time to just talk like this one on one.

The streets are dark and the air is cold, but he doesn’t feel the wind tucked up in the other man's jacket the way he is now. Simon takes a moment to just appreciate the rich beauty of his city in the evening, with its warm lights and the smell of salt blown in from the waterfront and the company by his side.

As they make their way, his eyes catch a poster in front of the large city theatre, and he stops without really meaning, to read what is written on the poster. It’s a classical concert and Simon doesn’t remember the last time he went to a concert like this, it must have been when he was still in secondary school.

“You like this kind of music?” Wille stops beside him, craning his neck up to read the poster himself.

In all honesty, not really. But he remembers his father taking him to the same theatre to see the concert pianists when he was first teaching him to read music and play the keyboard, just to give him a taste of different styles.

“It’s just been a while since I went to one. You know…I used to write music a lot. I grew up listening to a lot of different styles.”

“I did know that.”

He looks over at the other man's expression and makes a noise of surprise, “Oh really?”

Wille nods, looking a bit sheepish, “ Well about you making music at least. I used to listen to your songs a lot.”

“Oh my god.” He laughs, feeling mortified and putting a hand over his face, “That’s so embarrassing—”

“Why?

Simon blinks, dropping his hand and he can’t exactly say, because I feel like shit since I stopped writing music and now I wonder if I was ever actually any good at it at all or if I was just being a fucking idiot , so he just shrugs, “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t realize you would.”

Marcus had been the only person in his life who hadn’t fought back against his decision to stop music, Marcus had never really been impressed with the songs he had written, even the ones Simon had felt especially proud over. At some point, he had wondered if Marcus really was the only person who had been being honest with him.

“You’re incredibly talented Simon,” Wille says and he looks so serious and sincere, his hair caught in the lights from the theatre awning, shadowed auburn, gold and pale in the darkness.

The words are said with such honesty and conviction, that Simon doesn’t exactly know how to respond except to blink at him before looking away with a flush rising to his cheeks and murmuring, “Thanks.”

Wille walks him the rest of the way to the train station down the street, across from the shuttered Market hall. Once they reach the entrance both of them stop, turning towards one another.

“So. See you tomorrow then?” Wille’s voice is soft and inviting and Simon smiles, something fluttering in his chest when the curve of the man’s smile and the crinkle of his eye catch the light from inside of the station.

“See you tomorrow, Wille.”

The air is cold and the sky is dark, the lights of the city like jewels in dark velvet. Simon turns into the station, but for some reason, unexplained to him he feels the urge to turn and watch Wille’s receding back as he disappears down the sidewalk.

Simon realizes then that Wille forgot to take his jacket back and he knows he could call out to him, it wouldn’t be too late to hand it back.

But he doesn’t.

Saying goodbye. Walking away into the cold of night. The soft fabric of pastel floral under his fingers. The image is so clear and the words appear, in his head somehow, a flash of emotion tied to language and he fishes his phone out from his jacket pocket and opens his notes app to get it down before it disappears.

Now I’m on my way home

Your jacket around me

God, I miss you so

I see it now, I see it fast

The laughter and the butterflies

And I, I, I…

As quick as it came he feels it leave again and he reads them over and over, feeling the weight of them on his tongue and humming the beginning of a broken melody that doesn’t quite feel tangible yet.

Simon bites his lip, thinking back to Sunday morning on that pew and the ache that he had felt, the desperate need to be part of it.

His mind feels more awake somehow, there’s a melody that is humming there, warm and whispered, he can’t quite make it out yet, but it’s living there inside of him.

Simon could cry from relief.

_______

Ayub is in the living room, eating a pizza on their couch when he gets home. His friend looks up and smirks when he comes around the couch and Simon instinctively touches his hair before touching his face. “What?”

“You love Swedish boys huh?”

He could die from the embarrassment.

________

It’s little things. It’s the croissants that Wille brings to the office from the bakery down the street, it’s the photos he sends him of random and mundane things, the way Simon comes to work every morning to find a satsuma on his desk because he once told the man they are his favourite fruit.

It’s the lyrics that spill from his pen at the most abrupt moments. Simon isn’t really sure where they come from, but he’s not complaining as he starts to fill the pages of his notebooks again. Not all of it is good, but it is something and he’s grateful all the same.

Wille ties himself into Simon’s life with an ease that no other person has managed so quickly. It’s only been a month and a half since he started this new job, but it feels like he and Wille have known each other forever. Stockholm gets darker and colder as fall begins to surely turn into winter.

Wille becomes a regular guest at his and Ayub’s apartment, and Simon a regular guest at Friday night drinks with Felice and Nils.

They don’t talk about what happened between them that night at the party again, they fall into a comfortable rhythm as friends and Simon explores what it’s like to be single, something that he hasn’t been for a long time.

There are good and bad, both positive and negative. On the positive side, he can make plans to do whatever he wants whenever he wants without thinking about someone else or the plans they are supposed to make. He can browse through Grindr and chat up guys without feeling guilty about it. He could hook up with whoever he wants if he felt like it (which admittedly he doesn’t get the appeal).

The negative side is that well he’s never been single this long which means he’s never gone this long without sex. And that sucks. Something that almost had Ayub falling over with laughter when he admits out loud.

(“Wow sucks for you bro.” His friend had teased in between wheezing laughs, “I wish I could have more sympathy but I’ve been single for over a year at this point so I’m finding it a little hard.”)

But in a lot of ways, it’s what's right for him at the moment. He doesn’t think he’s ready for a new relationship anytime soon, despite missing that physicality and that sense of intimacy and companionship that a relationship allows.

Sometimes he thinks about that night that he and Wille don’t talk about, sometimes it’s a secret little fantasy that he conjures when he’s feeling a bit frustrated, not that he would ever admit that to the other man, even though he’s sure that it would just make Wille laugh his ass off if he were to tell him.

Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to date Wille when he thinks about dating again, and every time he thinks about it his mind rejects the idea fiercely.

No.

He loves being Wille’s friend. He doesn’t want to jeopardize that, because at this point he doesn’t want to lose him. Things always go sour in relationships, people always change and end up showing their nasty side, there's something about that specific label that just brings out the worst in people in his experience.

Simon doesn’t want to change that. He doesn’t want to ruin what they have going for them, so he shuts the idea down as quickly as it comes up.

He’s just happy to be his friend. That can be enough. Can't it?

Chapter Text

“What’s that?” 

“ A mysterious painting of a landscape under the night sky overlooks the lavish entryway. ”

“Oh. Okay.” Wille sweeps his gaze over the board and theres a beat of silence in as he waits for whatever is supposed to happen next.

“Would you…like to search the painting?” Ayub asks after a moment of nothing and looking up he finds all three watching him expectantly and Wille feels a bit of a flush on his neck at what he supposed should have been rather obvious.

“Oh right I can do something like that can’t I…okay yes,” Honestly, Wille keeps forgetting what he can and cannot do in this over complicated game. He’s played a lot of new board games he's never heard of before since Simon started inviting him to their roommate game night, and he’s enjoyed a lot of them, but he can’t say this particular game makes much sense.

“Shadowy figures can be seen amongst the landscape however something in the stars catches your eye .”

“So it looks like you’ve got to do a lore roll, Wille.” He hears Simon say from next to him, leaning over to glance at the card with his investigators stats that he has in front of him on the kitchen table, “But it looks like your lore is only 3.”

As if thats a completely normal sentence to him he nods and rolls the dice, which leave his hand with a clatter into the dice tray that Ayub pushes over to him. They all turn to where they are lying in various positons, Rosh leaning over to peer down at them.

“Oh well, never mind you rolled a zero anyway.”They say with a teasing lilt in their voice.

“Zero? How could I roll zero?! Why are there so many skill checks in this game?” He drops his head in his hand with an exaggerated gesture with a groan, mostly for show as he’s aware of the way Simon is watching him with a sympathetic smile on his lips. Is it just a ploy for attention? Maybe, but he’s pretty sure that Simon genuinely feels bad for him considering how he's been trying to coach him through this whole thing. 

Surely enough, he reaches over and pats Wille’s arm with a soft laugh, “Sometimes we switch it up with house rules but…yeah it's kind of intense.”

“Okay enter zero into the app,” Rosh says with a snort.

Speaking of app. What kind of board game has a fucking app ? 

Ayub continues to read as they quiet down, “ Your recollection about the constellations is hazy but something about the painting rubs you the wrong way, there must be a detail that you’re missing… ”

“Maybe someone else besides Wille should look at it,” Rosh says with a smirk in their voice.

“It’s not my fault the dice hate me,” Wille interjects, leaning backwards with a dramatic flair. From beside him he sees Simon reach for his glass of cola and turns in surprise as he realizes Simon has just stolen his drink.

“Hey! that’s mine.” The gasp causes both Ayub and Rosh to look over at the same time as Simon is lifting the glass to his lips. The other looks over at him from the corner of his gaze, innocence painted on his face while slowly taking a determinedly long sip as Wille’s mouth opens in an exaggeratedly shocked expression, eyes widening, “You’re a thief!”

“It’s my apartment. And my glass. And my soda.” Simon gives him the most shit-eating grin before taking another sip and settling the glass back down in front of Wille with a thud for emphasis.

Rosh throws a chip at Simon with a smirk on their lips and the two of them seem to have a silent conversation with their eyes which ends in a kind of mini-war as the other man reaches forward and grabs a handful of the chips from the bowl to throw back at his friend. Ayub just gives a small defeated sigh and meets Wille’s gaze with an amused shake of his head.

The dynamic between Simon and his roommates (Rosh has since moved out, but it feels like they still very much live here) is fun and sibling-like. It reminds him of his own friends, especially how Simon and Rosh’s back and forth is similar to the way he and Nils always mess around. It’s slightly bordering on insulting one another but in a affectionate way, while Felice is the voice of reason very much in the same way Ayub seems to be. 

Of course, Felice and Nils wouldn’t be interested in this kind of Friday night activity and before he had become friends with Simon he can’t say it’s something he would have necessarily picked either. Usually weekends are or clubs or bars or some kind of party, but he is learning to enjoy something a little more low key. Simon, as he’s learned, isn’t such a party-goer, which is ironic considering how they reconnected and how often they seem to find themselves in those kind of places, but from what hes gleaned from Rosh and Ayub since he’s been single, Simon has been trying to be more social.

Still, Wille quite enjoys the nights in at Simons apartment, every time he’s been here for a board game night, he always leaves having had a lot of fun and with a wide smile, partly because he genuinely likes hanging out with Simon and his friends, but also because the games are fun, unexpected, and unique. Definitely a step up from Monopoly or Life, which is what he had been expecting the first time he had joined them.

However, this particular game is giving him quite a hard time, and he can’t quite seem to wrap his head around the rules or how it works. It seems like no matter how many times they’ve explained things he still doesn’t really understand, or do it correctly. And fair enough, Simon had told him that Mansions of Madness wasn’t exactly a very beginner-friendly game, but Ayub had mentioned that’s what he wanted to play this week in the group chat and Wille had insisted on joining, figuring it couldn’t be that hard to learn. 

Well, he was wrong. He’s trying really, and it’s definitely gotten easier, but to be honest he’s mostly just trying to fumble his way through, with extremely varying levels of success.

It gets much better towards the end of the game as Wille gains more confidence and starts to remember to rules. Ayub gives him some grace since he’s a first-time player, more grace than Simon and Rosh at least with their teasing, and the game eventually wraps up with a somewhat successful ending even though Rosh and Wille’s investigators both go insane. (Which apparently, according to Simon, is something that happens quite a lot.)

“I’m still trying to understand what happened,” Wille confesses later that evening, as they are standing side by side at the sink, washing the dishes from the takeout they had ordered earlier. 

Simon chuckles, taking the plate from him and leaning against the counter as he dries it off with a kitchen towel, “It’s not that easy to learn especially if you don’t really play these types of games often, but I think it worked out in the end. Only two of us went insane in any case.”

“I guess…I think my head is going to hurt for a while trying to come to terms with everything I just experienced.”

Simon looks over at him with an amused quirk of his brow, “Did the game turn you insane too?”

“Maybe a little bit.” He admits with a grin as he hears either Rosh or Ayub laugh from across the room where they are clearing the table of the game pieces. 

“We tried to warn you.” Simon laughs next to him, grabbing a towel from the drawer and throwing it at him. Wille catches it midair before snapping it towards the other who jumps away from him with a squeal.

Rosh carries the empty boxes from their Indian takeout into the kitchen and leans close to Simon, saying something in his ear that makes the man turn around quickly with wide eyes and an indignant sound. Rosh chuckles and Simon pushes them away, but Wille can't quite make out what was said so he lets it go.

As he's finishing the task of drying the plates, he notices Rosh and Simon talking together in front of the dining table, low and under their breath. Simon is shaking his head emphatically, but Rosh is smirking and whatever they are saying makes him very curious. Usually, Wille tries to mind his business, but in this particular moment, he can’t help but wish he could eavesdrop on their conversation. They seem to be arguing about something under their breath and then suddenly Rosh turns toward him, pushing Simon away with a grin on their lips.

“Hey Wille,” Rosh starts, sounding overly cheerful. “It’s getting kind of late and it’s supposed to snow tonight, feel free to stay over by the way. I’m staying as well, but I’m taking my room so why don’t you sleep in Simon’s?”

Wille blinks, looking over at Simon and seeing the slight redness to his cheeks as the man diligently dries a water glass over the counter, gaze fixed determinedly on what he’s doing with his hands instead of his friends.

It wouldn’t be the first time he crashed at Simon’s place and normally he would take the lumpy IKEA futon in Rosh’s old room. But it had been something that only happened a few times when he had missed the last bus to his station or shared a drink with Ayub. Even though Wille only ever drinks a very nominal amount when he’s here, Simon is always very insistent and worried about him getting in the car afterward and Wille doesn’t mind spending more time here instead of going back to his empty apartment. 

“Yeah.” Ayub pipes up from the living room, where he’s closing up the box containing the rest of the game. He shuffles over to the counter, leaning on his arms and watching them clean up with a knowing grin that Simon seems to be steadfastly ignoring, “You should stay over, ask Simon to make arepas for breakfast. He won’t do it if I ask, but if you do I bet he will.”

“Oh?” He blinks, a little surprised. “Do you cook Simon?”

“Are you volunteering me to cook breakfast?” Simon ignores his question, glaring slightly at Ayub from over the counter.

“You’re the only one out of the two of us who can do stuff in the kitchen without burning it down,” Ayub says simply, giving him a pacifying grin.

“But how come you never told me you could cook?” Wille says again, still stuck on this particular nugget of information he’s learned, but all he gets is an eye roll and a snort from Simon in return, “You know I’m pretty good at making cheese sandwiches.” 

Theres a low whistle as Simon puts the glasses back into the cupboard, “Wow that’s complicated stuff. Sliced cheese and buttered bread.” 

“Don’t forget the ham and the cucumber,” Wille adds with a nod.

“Blegh.” The curly-haired man makes a face, “Okay, I’ll make arepas… ” Simon trails off ignoring the whoop of success that both Ayub and Rosh make aws they high five one another over the counter. Simon, however, is looking up at Wille, “I mean if you want to stay tonight that is.”

Wille doesn’t really have anything waiting for him back at his apartment and he doesn’t exactly fancy the idea of leaving the warmth of Simon’s place for the cold and dark of Swedish winter. Tomorrow is Saturday and besides meeting up with Nils and Felice for their monthly brunch, he doesn’t exactly have anyplace he needs to be immediately.

And he can’t deny that Simon makes for much better company than his plants and his TV.

“Well…it’s supposed to snow tonight. So maybe I shouldn’t be out on the roads.”

Simon seems pleased by his response, smiling a bit and even under the harsh kitchen lighting the expression seems to soften his features as it reaches his eyes. “Yeah. Better safe than sorry.”

________

Later that evening, Wille is alone in Simon’s room, waiting for him to return from the shower. Having never been in here alone before, he’s been entertaining himself by checking over the shelves trying to understand more about his friend and what he likes. His shelves are an odd mixture of things, packed with books, comics, and what Wille is fairly sure are video game guides. Looking curiously over the small unfamiliar figurines he sees neatly lined up on the shelf, his eyes catch the rainbow flag Simon has stuck into a potted succulent in the corner. 

His own family always looked down on things like comics or video games, so he can’t say he’s familiar with any of the titles on Simon’s shelves. Wille himself was never really encouraged to play games like these as a child, even though he did have a console at one point, but his mother had only allowed him a few hours a week and he had only played a few shooter types and the odd sports game, definitely nothing like the big open-world RPGs and MMOs that Simon is so fond of. 

He picks up one of the Japanese comics from the shelf at random, flipping through the pages of confusing action and expressive splash art, intrigued by the design style and the sheer unfamiliarity of the contents inside, when he hears the door open.

Book still in hand, he looks up to see Simon entering, looking freshly showered and soft in a loose faded t-shirt and sweatpants. 

“Have you heard of Demon Slayer before?” Simon asks curiously, returning to the room and patting his curls gently with his towel.

Wille takes a moment, distracted by the cute way his damp bangs curl at his temple and over his forehead, the slight sheen to his skin from the shower, and the smell of his soap. It’s not exactly distinct, but it smells clean and herbal, similar to verbena.

“Huh?” He says, having missed the words. Wille blinks at him for a moment and hates the slight swoop he feels in his stomach when Simon takes a step closer.

“What you're holding.” Simon’s expression is slightly amused as he gestures to the book, “That’s the title.”

Wille looks down at the comic he’s holding, “Oh…” He shakes his head, trying to will the warmth he feels on his cheeks away, “No, I haven’t actually. Sorry, I was just looking around in here…you’ve got a lot of things I’ve never seen before.” 

“Well, I never really pinned you as an anime or manga fan.” Simon laughs softly, “That one is quite good though.”

He opens the pages again, flipping through them before Simon speaks, “You actually read it the opposite way. In Japan, they read manga left to right.” 

Simon reaches out for the book, fingers brushing over Wille’s as he flips pages to the back to show him. However, Wille is paying more attention to the way he smells and the way his skin still radiates warmth from the hot shower he’s taken. 

“See?” Simon adds, “The art is pretty cool.” 

As an artist himself, it’s the first thing he’d noticed. Of course, he’s familiar with this aesthetic, as it’s popular, especially in the digital art sphere, but he’d never really gotten into it before. It could be interesting to try something new though.

“Maybe I should try reading it then. If you say it’s good. The art style is really cool.” He murmurs, distracted as Simon leans closer. 

The other doesn’t respond so he looks over at him and sees that Simon has gone quiet, watching Wille with a complicated expression, a frown twisted on his lips and an almost cautious look in his eyes. Wille doesn’t quite understand the sudden change or what he’s thinking about, but before he has a chance to ask Simon does in his stead.

“You didn’t really like the game today did you.”

Wille blinks, turning towards him in surprise, “I did though. Did it seem like I didn’t?.”

Simon raises an eyebrow and Wille feels like he needs to explain, “I had fun, but I didn’t really understand it so well that’s for sure. It’ll probably be easier next time.

Simon's shoulders relax a bit even though he looks up sharply at the use of next time. He watches Wille as though he’s not sure what to do with him for a moment and then he frowns a bit, rubbing his temple.

“Is…that…I really didn’t mean to make you think I wasn’t having fun. It was just a lot to remember.” He feels a nudge of uncertainty and isn’t quite sure what direction this conversation is going in.

“I’m just…you don’t have to force yourself to do things or be interested in the things I like.” Simon finally says looking at him.

“Huh?” Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.

“You don’t have to force yourself.”

“Simon…I’m not forcing myself,” He knows he must sound confused, but he cant help it. It just feels like the conversation has just taken a very odd turn, “These are things I don’t know anything about so I find it interesting…and they are things you are passionate about so I’d like to learn more about them because it’s kind of like learning more about you.”

Simon stares at him, eyes widening, eyes round and surprised. He looks almost overwhelmed and Wille doesn’t know what he said to make him react in that way. Simon falters, staring up at him and for a swooping moment Wille almost feels like the other might actually kiss him which makes his head spin a bit just thinking about so he tries to push the feeling down and temper his expectations.

Of course, Simon does not kiss him. Instead, he takes a step back, eyes sweeping over Wille’s face before clearing his throat and picking the book out of his hands.

“Okay well first of all. The English title is Demon Slayer , but the original title is Kimetsu no Yaiba which is more like…the blade of the demon slayer and it’s about this guy whose family gets turned into these zombie things and they all die but his sister remains like in control so he carries her around in a box on his back…wait I should probably go to the beginning…this guy is living in the woods with his family…”

Simon gets this furrow when he’s talking about something he’s interested in, and this brightness in his eyes. He sees it often when they discuss music, and Wille is endeared to see it again, now that he's talking about this. Wille wasn’t lying, he is interested, but it’s quite distracting to see how cute Simon looks when he gets excited that he’s finding it a bit hard to follow what he's telling him. 

“That sounds pretty intense,” Wille says once Simon has given him a thorough, if not all over the place, overview.

“It’s good! And the original opening of the anime is one of my favourite songs, even if I do prefer the manga to the show.” Simon says as he crosses the room.

“Oh okay.” Wille says, not quite sure what that actually means, but making a mental note to look it up at some point.

Simon slips out of the room then, letting him know he’s going to hang the still-damp towel he’d forgotten about in the bathroom and once he closes the door, Wille finds himself once again alone in his room. 

Turning to put the book back in its place on the shelf it’s then that he feels the phone in his pocket vibrate in quick succession. It’s been quiet for most of the night, which isn’t so surprising considering that not that many people actually text him regularly, so he assumes that now it’s either Felice or Nils. He fishes the device out of his pocket and checks the screen, swiping open to the chat he has ongoing with Nils and Felice.

Sure enough, theres a soft smirk that tugs at his lips when he settles on the edge of the mattress to look over the messages his friends have been trading back and forth in their group chat.

bad bitches 💅

Nisse✨

whats tomorrows theme for brunch

Nisse✨

Im currently staring at my closet and I don’t know what to wear

Felice💕

You have so many clothes Nisse I thought I had a shopping problem but you’re the true victim of consumerism in this throuple 

Nisse✨

You’re not wrong 😩

Nisse✨

Also throuple sounds kind of sexy 😏

Felice💕

That was the intention

Nisse✨

Hot

Nisse✨

Anyway. Theme??? Last time it was basic bitch fall aesthetic 

Felice💕

Well it’s supposed to snow tonight ❄️ how about alpine realness

Felice💕

Like as if we were supposed to take to the slopes, but we decided to have cocktails and baked brie instead because skiing requires actual exercise 

Nisse✨

Um…. loving that for us

Nisse✨

I see the vision. Ski fashion is having its moment

Felice💕

Or we will start the moment 😌

Nisse✨

I see you reading our messages Wille

Nisse✨

Quit lurking and engage pls

He hesitates for a minute, finger hovering over the screen as he looks around the quiet of Simon’s room. He hadn’t told his friends that he was coming over tonight, not that they had asked, but he toys with the idea of telling them anyway. They’ve been teasing him for weeks about his friendship with Simon, which he’s tried to insist many times that is just a friendship. 

Granted, he hadn’t told them about what happened at the event, and he’s not sure why. Usually, Felice and Nils are the first to hear about anything that happens between him and a hookup and they had certainly suspected something when he had shown up looking flustered with mussed-up hair and making excuses as to why he had to leave so quickly.

Still, for some reason he had kept the information to himself. Perhaps it’s because of what had happened at Stella’s, perhaps he had felt like they would think it meant more than it had, or push him about it. He’s not so sure.

Wille rubs his temple for a moment and then finally decides that it can’t hurt to tell them where he is. After all, they know he and Simon are friends and he’s been spending so much time with him lately they will probably guess anyway. 

Me

Alpine realness sounds great but unfortunately, I don’t have access to my vast collection of luxury ski wear at the moment 😩

Me

I’m not sleeping at home

Felice💕

No? You don’t carry fashionable alpine sportswear with you at all times?

Nisse✨

Much more important question

Nisse✨

Where are you Wilhelm?

Nisse✨

🤨

Me

I’m staying at Simon’s tonight

Nisse✨

Why am I not surprised 🤨🤨🤨🤨

Me

What does that mean?

Me

It’s snowing tonight he insisted

Nisse✨

Mmmhmmmmmm🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

Nisse✨

Are you staying in his room?

Me

Huh?

Nisse✨

Well that’s a yes

Nisse✨

Are you SLEEPING IN HIS BED

Caught, he feels his cheeks flush hotly and throws himself back against the mattress with a groan, biting his lip and turning his head into the pillow that maddeningly smells exactly like Simon’s shampoo.

Me

Fuck youuuuu Nisse

Nisse✨

AH HAHAHA I'M RIGHT AREN'T I

Nisse✨

Sounds pretty gay to me

Felice💕

Doesn’t Simon have an extra room since Rosh moved out tho?

Nisse✨

He does! He told us just last time we saw him he hasn’t found a new roommate yet!

Nisse✨

Oh my god Wille are you naked right now

Me

If I was naked I would probably have better things to do than text you

Nisse✨

Oh my goooooooood she’s here! bitchy Wille my love has entered the chat 

Me

🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Me

Rosh is staying over too! Simon was nice enough not to make me sleep on the floor

Nisse✨

Oh come off it! You probably offered to sleep on the floor bc you're YOU and he wouldn’t let you and now you two are spooning naked

Wille doesn’t answer and huffs out a breath of air, feeling a slight tinge of endeared annoyance at how his friend is pushing. It’s always how Nils is and Wille knows he doesn’t mean anything bad by it. In fact, he usually finds his attitude amusing and he usually goes along with it. He isn’t sure why he doesn’t feel like he can joke so lightly about Simon though, or why there’s a slightly different edge to his reaction, but he’s probably just overreacting.

But on another note…how is Nils so good at sniffing out things like this? He would never admit it to the other man, but he’s not that far off the mark, minus the whole getting naked thing. 

Not that he hasn’t thought about that.

Me

fuck youuuuuu we really are just friends haha

Me

he’s not even here in the room rn

Wille knows Simon will be back soon though, he can hear the soft sound of conversation, voices that sound like they are coming from the kitchen.

Nisse✨

Pics or I’ll just keep believing you’re lying

Nisse✨

I’ve Seen you naked before so you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about

Nisse✨

I promise 😉

Nisse✨

Like if anything I’m more concerned about Simon

Nisse✨

Considering…. 👀

Felice💕

Okay that’s enough of THAT please 😭 I already know way too much about you two

Me

Oh my gooood Nisse

Me

What the fuck

Me

😭😭

Felice💕

ANYWAY

Felice💕

Erasing that from my brain forever 

Felice💕

Bring Simon to brunch tomorrow! 

Nisse✨

Oh please do. I need to hear allllllllll about your sleepover 

Nisse✨

Forget Alpine realness.

Nisse✨

The theme of this brunch will be to sus out if our dear Wille and Simme are as platonic as he keeps insisting 

Me

Yeah I think I’m going to cancel 

Me

You don’t deserve to see me 

Felice💕

Wille you have to comeeeee I haven’t seen you all week! 🥺 I’ll protect you from Nils I promise. I wont let him badger Simon either

Felice💕

And I’ll cut his hair in his sleep if he makes inappropriate comments

Nisse✨

Thats fucking medieval Felice 

Nisse✨

My hair is off limits

Felice💕

Fine. I’ll block him in the gc 💕💅

Me

Actually that might be a good idea

Me

Maybe you should go ahead and do it

Nisse✨

You hags wouldn’t dare

Felice💕

Do you hear anything?

Me

Not a thing

Nisse✨

🙄🙄 

Nisse✨

Okayyyyy fine

Nisse✨

I won’t bother your “friend” I swear 💜 you know we adore him. He’s such a doll. It’s a shame we didn’t all get to know each other back in school

Felice💕

We just all ended up bonding over our gay trauma when we were already out of that place 😀

He makes a self-deprecating laugh at his friend's message and thinks not for the first time that Hillerska could have been such a better experience if they hadn’t all been at such different places in their journeys of self-discovery. 

It’s odd to think that something he had once considered the worst thing that could have happened, getting outed to his family by his cousin, had ended up being the catalyst that changed his life so drastically for the better. Had brought people into his life that he probably never would have had such connections with and pushed him to places he never thought he’d be.

It’s strange to think he and Nils and Felice probably never would have come together the way they had if it wasn’t for Wille’s mother being the way she is.

He’s reached a place where he can say he’s happy and proud of his life, but they all carry lingering hurt inside of them. Nils may be out in his office and his life, but he’s faced difficulties in his work life and his family is borderline unsupportive, refusing to talk about it or acknowledge it with the rest of his family.

Felice isn’t out as bisexual to her family and she has said on multiple occasions that she doesn’t think they’d mind so much because they like to position themselves as progressives, but she just doesn’t want to deal with her mother being judgemental and trying to push her towards a traditional lifestyle even more than she already does. She has a feeling they might react differently if it’s their own daughter and not some hypothetical idea.

Me

I’ll ask Simon if he wants to come

Me

As long as Nisse doesn’t harass him

Felice💕

Yay

Felice💕

I’ll make sure Nils behaves🫡

Nisse✨

Hey I always behave

Me

Sure

Felice💕

Sure

Nisse✨

🙄

Nisse✨

Well I’m going to get my beauty sleep and ignore the betrayal I feel

Me

You do that 

Me

Good night 

Me

💜

Felice💕

Sleep well loves 🫶

Nisse✨

😙

He sits up, looking towards the door and wondering when Simon is coming back and how he’s going to ask him to come tomorrow. He knows Nils is genuinely curious, and he’s sure Felice is as well, but he can’t lie that the attention is kind of nice. He doesn’t actually think that his friends will pester Simon if Wilhelm himself puts his foot down, but he briefly imagines a scenario where they ask him directly, wondering how the other might react, but he can’t quite envision it and it makes him feel odd trying to put words in Simon’s mouth, even in his imagination.

He groans again, running his fingers through his messy hair and looking over at the digital clock on the desk next to the bed. What’s taking Simon so long?

Eventually, he jumps up off of the mattress, making to cross toward the door when he accidentally brushes up against the corner of Simon’s desk. It’s got an array of confusing-looking equipment, which is organized neatly but has a slight film of dust that suggests Simon hasn’t used it in some time. He overcorrects, catching a notebook on the corner and causing it to fall onto the floor, face first onto the open pages. 

Wille picks it up to place it back on the desk, making to close the pages when he sees Simon's handwriting and pauses spotting the words scrawled across the pages. As he looks over it curiously he sees there are multiple lines crossed out, little notes written above the lines and in the corners of the page as well as sketches and doodles in pen and graphite all over the page.

Roses, when you pass by

It’s a garden of you

Morning, fresh air

My head’s filled with you

Smell of wet pavement

A table for two

You’re sweet and fleeting

I’m addicted to you

He reads them aloud in his head, impressed and desperately curious as he continues to where the lyrics trail off into drawings in loopy graphite lines and random words. The lyrics are soft, and sweet in a way that brings the images to life in his head and he turns the page barely getting a glimpse of what’s written there before the notebook is quickly pulled from his hands. 

Surprised, he looks up quickly to see Simon holding the book close to his chest and staring at him with a strange expression. He looks caught and embarrassed and Wille feels a sudden sense of shame, realizing that he had just been looking at something that maybe Simon didn’t want to share.

“I’m sorry I didn’t…I just picked it up off the floor. The pages fell open. I didn’t realize it was private. I didn’t think about it.”

“It’s okay…” Simon says in an odd-sounding voice and Wille realizes there’s a definite flush to his cheeks. “These are just some lyrics I’ve been working on. Sorry…I didn’t mean to grab it like that…just knee-jerk reaction.”

“Are you writing music again Simon?” He asks in surprise and he’s almost sure that the flush on the man’s cheeks darkens as he tucks the notebook back into the space among the others. He doesn’t seem upset that Wille was reading it, but there is a definite sense of embarrassment in his body language and the way he’s having a hard time keeping eye contact.

“Something like that.” He murmurs and Wille grins going over to sit on his bed, facing him.

“That’s amazing. Really.”

“You think?” Simon leans against his desk, hands behind him as he regards Wille with a slightly disbelieving look.

“Of course it is!” Wille grins leaning back on his hands, “I mean I couldn’t help but glance over the lyrics, sorry again, but they were really nice. You make art with words, I think it’s great you’re writing again. You enjoy it a lot right?”

Simon bites his lip and nods. Wille isn’t quite so sure where this timid version of the other man is coming from, but he’s realized over the time they’ve spent together that his own relationship with music is somewhat of a delicate subject for him, even though he’s not exactly sure why.

“I do,” Simon says finally after a moment. “I mean I know I’m not that good but—-“

Wille leans forward staring at him with an incredulous look, “Not very good? Simon that’s not true at all. You write beautifully I mean…wait let me remember it… Before you, everything was a strange winter.  After, anyone else would feel like a stranger. I love that line.”

He sees Simon’s eyes widen slightly, “Isn’t that….?” It’s as though he’s just now realizing he had been quoting his own lyrics to him. 

Wille rubs the back of his neck and nods, “I told you I listened to your songs.”

“That was one of my least popular songs.” Simon laughs a bit and Wille grins, “It had like only a few thousand streams on Spotify.” 

“Well, it’s one of my favorites. It’s complicated and contradictory and I feel like that’s kind of the way people are you know?” Wille tilts his head to consider him as Simon comes to sit next to him on the mattress. “I always wondered who you wrote it about since it felt so sincere.”

Simon stares at him for a minute, it looks like he's about to say something, but then he stops. A few seconds pass and Wille sees him bite his lip, looking like he’s just decided something before he speaks again, “You want to know something?”

“Sure.” He’s not sure why Simon seems so hesitant to breach the topic of his music, but he seems to be opening up a bit tonight, and Wille wants to know more and is pleased that he feels comfortable enough to do so.

“That song isn’t about anyone . I’ve never really felt that way about anyone.” Simon’s words come slowly as though he’s trying to put his thoughts into words, “I wrote that song because I wanted that kind of thing. I was dating this guy at the time and he was actually a huge asshole…I think that’s something most of my exes have in common.”

Simon laughs but the sound isn’t very lighthearted and Wille frowns softly. “I’m sorry.” 

Simon shakes his head.“It’s in the past. Apparently, I’m just really bad at sensing red flags.”

There's a story there, he’s sure, but it's not something he’s going to push the other to talk about.

“Anyway, I kept thinking about what that would feel like. That kind of all-consuming love that ruins other people for you. Does that make me a fraud?” Simon looks over at him with a weak grin, “Making up shit to write about even though I don’t know what it feels like?”

It’’s hard to understand how the vastly different way Simon feels about himself compared to the way Wille sees him. Even more surprising after knowing him back at Hillerska, the relentlessly self-confidence that he had exuded even under scrutiny from their peers. Of course, he knows now there was much more behind the surface then, but it’s still an image of Simon he is trying to unlearn, or at least replace, with the silly, rather nerdy (in the most endearing way) musical genius he is today.

“I mean…it touched me .” Wille says after a moment, “What you write, the music you made…that you make. It touches people. Even if that's not something you have personally felt about someone else. Even if it's just something you want one day…I make art about things I don’t necessarily have first-hand experience with. That's kind of the beauty of creativity, the ability to touch other people and express yourself beyond your own experience.”

Simon looks at him as though he almost doesn’t believe what Wilhelm is saying and then takes a step closer to him and Wille feels the breath die in his throat and they consider each other.

Simon looks soft and pretty in the low light of his bedroom, the sky outside is a black ink canvas dotted in places with smeared colour and light. But inside everything has a softer edge, muted and faded somehow like some kind of dreamy filter. The lamp spills golden orange on half of his figure while submerging the rest in shadow. His eyes are round, dark, and pretty, and they stay fixed on Wille as though the other is thinking or having some deep internal debate with himself that Wilhelm is not privy to. 

It’s the second time this evening that Wille imagines Simon might actually kiss him.

However, instead, Simon breaks eye contact and wraps an arm around himself. “Are you going to be cold on the floor?” 

The complete 180 of topics throws him for a bit of a loop but he looks at the thin mattress Simon has put down when Wille had insisted he would sleep on the floor so he wouldn’t bother him.

Simon looks over at his bed, with its soft comfortable-looking duvet and fluffy pillows and Wille almost swears he sees a flush to his cheeks, but it’s hard to tell in the dim light.

“We can share the bed.” The other says looking back at him, gaze heavy and holding something that makes Wille take pause. If he didn’t know better he would almost say that he looked nervous. It’s almost cliche, the whole only one bed thing, but this isnt some cheap paperback novel and they both respect each other too much to test boundaries.

“Are you sure?” Wille finally says, trying to warn him beforehand, “ I’m kind of like a starfish, my limbs end up everywhere.”

Simon laughs as Wille flails a bit to emphasize his point but he seems to relax a bit and shakes his head, “I don’t mind. The bed is big enough and I’m pretty small. I think it’ll be okay.”

“Well…yeah okay then.”.

They both climb into the bed, careful not to touch and it feels odd, like this underlying tension, this buzz like the aftereffect of too much caffeine in his bloodstream. It settles around them and Wille doesn’t know why this feels like a bigger deal than it really is. It’s not like he’s never shared a bed with a friend and he’s sure it's something Simon has done as well, so why are they both acting so odd about it.

Sure, Willie knows he's attracted to Simon and he’s fairly certain Simon is also attracted to him, but they had approached that line once before, and Simon had backed out and Wille understands that. They’d had a good discussion about it and really that should be the end of that. 

They’ve been friends, like actual, genuine friends even after what happened which is great because Wille would have been devastated if he had messed that up somehow. He isn’t sure he’s ever connected to someone else so quickly before, and it’s something that he treasures greatly, especially considering how he’s learned over the years that it’s not so often that you meet people you can easily make deep connections like this with. 

He feels like he can talk to Simon about anything even though in reality it hasn’t been that long that they've actually known one another. There's this comfortable familiarity between them and the drive to understand him more, to want to share parts of his own life with him. And yes, Simon is very attractive but it’s not like Simon is his only attractive friend. Wille has plenty of objectively hot friends but there’s something about him that is just different, that pulls Wille’s eyes to him and settles in his chest when he thinks about him. Simon doesn’t really seem to care about labels or trends or taking photos for the sake of some aesthetic. He just is, his beauty is just a part of him, inherently embedded in not only his physical features but also in his mannerisms and his personality. He really is a beautiful person, and the more Wille learns about him, the more it is apparent that Simon is special and that there won’t ever be anyone quite like him.

There’s a quiet lull a shift of fabric. The room is dark and Wille can only see what’s illuminated by the light from the alarm clock. Several minutes go by, slowly on the clock. 

“Are you sleeping, Wille?” A whisper.

“Not really.”

“Me neither.”

He shifts, turning towards the center of the bed and Simon does the same until they are facing each other. They keep their voices low, to a whisper for some reason even though it’s only the two of them in the room.

“Can't sleep?”

“I don’t know why..:”

Wille hums softly to himself, leaning his head back “Okay let’s play a game then…Tell me something about yourself that you have never told anyone before.” 

“Geez. Straight out the gate with the deeply reflective questions are we now.”

“You don’t have to answer. We can talk about something else. I just find that when I can’t shut my brain off it helps to talk through what's going through it.”

A pause.

“Okay then.” Simon shifts, turning onto his back. Wille can see his profile, dark and looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t…I don’t really have a lot of confidence in my ability to make music.”

Wille rejects the thought immediately, wants to interject and tell him how wrong he is, but Simon sounds vulnerable and quiet and he recognizes something familiar there so he stays quiet and just listens.

“I don’t…think I’m actually good. A lot of people assume that because I do it…I’m super confident in my ability or something. But I’m not….it’s more like…I feel like I physically have to do it. Like if I’m not creating something then I’m going to go insane….that probably makes no sense at all.”

Honestly, Wille gets it. He has this same inner struggle when he looks at the art he makes all the time, “No…I get it. I kind of feel the same way about my art sometimes. Like…as though it’s not really good . Like I’m a fraud after all the work I put into making it work. Into making this life for myself…I still have that voice in my head telling me it doesn’t mean anything and that I’m a disappointment.”

It’s a voice that coincidentally always sounded oddly enough like his own mother.

Simon readjusts his pillow and lets out a huff of air, “My ex he….he always acted like music was just this cute hobby I had. But that one day I’d… grow up or something. He was always putting me down for my interests…calling them childish. And then he seemed almost happy that I quit music…”

“Happy?” The concept is beyond Wille’s comprehension, even more ridiculous sounding than that overly complicated game they had spent nearly four hours playing tonight. 

“Yeah,..”

The sheets make a rustling sound, loud in the quiet as Wille turns, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at Simon in the dark shadows of his bedroom. “It sounds like he didn’t really bother to try and understand you at all then.”

He hears Simon’s breath catch and can only vaguely make out his expression and there’s a long beat of silence before the other speaks, “You’re probably right. Honestly all of my friends hated him. I don’t know why I kept him around so long.” 

Wille frowns, a wave of indigence welling up inside of him thinking about this person having the opportunity to have a relationship with Simon and not bothering to even so much as feign interest in his passions. Suddenly his suspicious attitude when Wille had been asking about the things on his bookshelf earlier makes so much more sense. Simon didn’t believe he could genuinely be interested, because that person had made him feel small for the things he liked. Simon doesn’t deserve someone like that. He deserves someone who will encourage him and support him, who will be interested in the things he loves and cheer him on.

“Okay then.” Simon says before he can say so, the words caught on the tip of his tongue, “Now your turn.”

“I already talked a lot .”

Simon laughs softly, “That was just you commenting on my thing. You tell me something new.”

Wille takes a slow breath and looks at him again in the dark. There’s something about the quiet hush of the night, and something about the way they are speaking so openly with one another and the way he feels so comfortable with the curly-haired man that has him lying back down against the mattress, staring up into the ceiling and chewing on his lip as the words begin forming on his lips, “Um…maybe that…actually…you know that photo on insta you accidentally did or didn’t like before. The one we talked about briefly?”

“Yeah.”

He sighs softly, “I was joking about it, but when that picture was taken…it was a really deeply scarring time for me. I can laugh about it now, but … I think if things had continued like that I wouldn’t be here anymore.”

Beside him, Simon has gone silent and stiff and he can feel his gaze on him, nonjudgemental and warm. 

“Everyone thinks my…issues with disordered eating happened back when all the shit went down with my family…..but if I’m being honest with myself. It started a lot earlier than then.”

“Oh…Wille…”

“I just…you know I grew up in this incredibly oppressive environment…without any control in my life or choices…I was in this fierce competition with my brother and I was already so burnt out by the time I was like fourteen…and I felt like I couldn’t make any decisions at all….you know I didn’t want to go to Hillerska.”

Simon shifts, imperceptibly closer, surprised, “Really?”

“Yeah really. I wanted to go to school here in Stockholm with the friends I had made in the area. There was a really big park where I’d see them hanging out and they started inviting me to join...we hung out all summer. It was the best summer of my life and when I found out they all went to the same school and were all about to start at the same high school I really thought it was finally my chance to have friends I actually had stuff in common with. So I asked my parents and they said no. My mother told me I didn’t have any direction and didn’t know how to plan properly for my future.”

Simon makes an incredulous noise beside him, “You were a kid.”

“Maybe. But I was a Cronstedt. And Cronstedts only receive the best education, at the best schools, surrounded by the right people and the proper environment conducive to honing skills and connections for their future.”

“Jesus that sounds like you memorized her words.”

“I still remember everything she said.”

“They didn’t even consider it?”

He smiles wanly, looking toward the wall. “No. We fought. Like…I stood up against her for really the first time. It was pretty bad. She refused to listen to me and I felt so powerless and so anxious . It was like the anxiety was eating a hole inside of me. And it wasn’t only anxiety about having to meet new people or leaving home for boarding school. It was like…I saw the path my parents wanted for me and I thought for the first time….oh maybe I can just adjust a bit to work better for me, I’m still going to do what they want but maybe I can do it this way. But I realized that the tracks don’t move. And that I was stuck for good, going in a direction I didn’t want. And I felt like I’d never get off. Like it would never change.”

Simon is quiet, and Wille has never said this out loud, not even to the therapist his friends had encouraged him to start seeing several years ago. Its something that he had been fighting for years, and looking back now he knows it’s gotten better, but there are good days and bad days and they tend to come quickly and without warning, but he’s learned to better deal with them over the years. 

He picks at the blanket and sighs, “I didn’t have control over anything in my life. So…I started controlling the one thing that I did. I would just refuse to eat and at first, I did it because I was angry…but then I realized that my family didn’t notice…or seem to care that I wasn’t eating so I started to wonder…what would it take for them to reach out or even just ask me about it—“

“What about your brother?”

Wille thinks about it for a moment, “To his credit…Erik did ask me about it. But I brushed him off and then he didn’t ask again. I think I wanted him to fight me on it...but I can’t really fault him…he was just a teenager and he was caught up in everything going on with him, he wasn’t even living at home you know? He was hours away at Hillerska.”

He feels Simon reach out and take his hand, gently, and feels him squeeze, his grip solid and sure. “Do you miss him?”

He stays quiet, even though he knows exactly who Simon is talking about. It's a minute before he gathers his thoughts well enough to put together his idea,“I think that I miss…the relationship I wish we had. I always wanted him to be like the big brother you see on TV. You know? I think in some ways…he was…is…but we both got caught up in this game that our parents made us play. It’s stupid, but we were both just as hungry for their approval. Erik realized the way to get their approval was through achievement and he was good at that. “

“And you?”

“I just...I just wanted their affection. I was an emotional and anxious kid…I just really wanted someone to just….hug me and tell me it was gonna be okay. I wanted them to tell me that was okay.”

“Oh, Wille…”

“It’s not a big deal…..”

“No…it is….fuck…I wish we had known each other better in school…”

“We know each other now.”

“Dammit Wille…come here.” Despite the words, Simon is the one that moves forward, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around Wille in the best way he can. The position is a little awkward, but Wille has always felt so hungry for physical affection, of any kind, it was always something he desperately craved and so he nuzzles in close to him and tries to control the racing heartbeat in his chest. 

“You know…” Simon starts quietly, “I understand it…..I really do.”

“Understand?”

“Missing the relationship that you feel like you should have had….wanting the kind of relationship with someone that you see other people have. Or that you see on TV.”

Wilhelm pulls back a bit to see his expression. It’s odd, far-away even, as though he’s seeing something that isn’t there. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable. You already told me something—-“

“Shh Wille I’m trying to connect okay?” There’s a faint smirk on his lips and Wille falls silent laughing softly.

“I just….you know. I had a very complicated relationship with my father.”

“Had?”

“He’s no longer here. He died over a year ago…but I hadn’t been living with him for much longer than that.” Simon pauses, “Actually that first year of Hillerska…was not so long after my mother my sister, and I finally managed to leave him.”

The wording makes it sound like there's a story there and Wille stays quiet, letting Simon build up the courage to speak. They are so honest with one another right now that it’s almost frightening. It almost feels like too much, too vulnerable and stripped, but he doesn’t feel scared, or nervous. He feels quite at ease really, and judging by the way he’s speaking so freely, Simon must be as well.

“He used to be a good dad…I think. I mean…I have good memories, but…then he changed. He started using drugs and drinking a lot and he would get so angry…and lash out at whoever was in his way or just…happened to be close by.”

He chews the inside of his lip as he debates his next question. Wille has had his fair share of hurt at the hands of his parents, but while they had always resorted to mind games and withholding affection and impassivity they had never used physical violence against him. But there’s something far away in Simon’s eyes that draws the words out of him “Did he ever…..hurt you guys?”

Simon is quiet for a long time and Wilhelm knows the answer before he speaks next.

“Yeah, sometimes when he’d get in these blind rages, and if you ended up in his way…well.” He purses his lips and Wille watches as he dark gaze slides from the ceiling to the wall, “And then later he’d be so upset about it. And just…beg for forgiveness. I was terrified of him. I honestly was afraid he’d kill my mother. I used to lay in bed, staring at the door and trying to hear anything in case I needed to jump up and call the police.”

“Jesus Simon….”

It breaks a part of him to think of Simon, young and afraid of living in his own house and his own father. Wille knows his parents were never more than perfunctorily adequate, he knows that he carries scars from them carved deep into his bones and his very identity, and it hurts to know that Simon has experienced hurt at the hand of his father as well, even in a different way.

“Thankfully it never…got that bad…but I was still scared. But finally, we left…and I thought eventually it would be better but it wasn’t. Turns out those things follow you around.”

“I’m sorry Simon….”

“It’s just hard to reconcile that he wasn’t always that way. That at one point he was a good father but that he’s not anymore, and that he’s not even really a good person even if I remember him being one. He tore my family apart, he hurt people I love….it’s his fault that I—“ Simon cuts himself off and Wilhelm presses their foreheads together, aware of the startled way Simon’s eyes flicker up to his, searching. His eyes have a glossy sheen to them in the dark and Wille uses his thumb to stroke the back of his neck absently, waiting until he can hear his breathing even out once more.

“My therapist told me once that people who are supposed to love us unconditionally are the ones who have the ability to hurt us the most.” He murmurs and after a moment Simon nods, tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

“I think that’s a good summary.” 

They go quiet, remaining close and curled in toward one another like question marks, huddling beneath the warmth of Simon’s winter comforter. 

“You’re easy to talk to,” Simon says after a moment where Wille almost thought he had fallen asleep. “You’re a good listener too.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” Wille muses, fighting the urge to push the other's dark curls from his forehead. It would be weird, wouldn’t it? Too intimate perhaps.

Simon hums thoughtfully and falls silent again as time stretches on. It’s warm and the combination of his sense of safety and the soft way the old mattress and comforter hug them together makes his eyelids feel heavy.

“See you in the morning Wille.” Simon’s whispered voice reaches him from somewhere on the edge of his subconscious and suddenly he remembers that he hadn’t asked him about brunch. 

“Oh shit I forgot to ask.” He says, and hears the shift next to him as Simon lifts his head to peer at him from beneath messy curls, face pressed into his pillow.

“Hmm?”

Wille sighs, “Felice and Nils want you to join us tomorrow for brunch…I mean I want you to as well. Obviously. Just…yeah do you want to? It would be fun.”

Simon tilts his head back a bit to look at him more fully, a curious, amused look on his face. “Yeah?”

He nods, holding his breath a bit and hoping that the other will be agreeable to the idea. It would be nice to wake up with him and not have to say goodbye so soon, to go into the city together for once.

“Um. Yeah okay.” Simon murmurs, smiling a bit, “Sounds fun. Although Ayub is going to kill me for not making arepas in the morning.”

He feels the breath he’s holding release gently as he relaxes into the mattress, “You’ll just have to make them for him some other time then.”

Simon snuggles back into his pillow, still peering out at him with one eye, the corners of his lips partially visible and Wille feels how warm and soft the expression makes him feel. Simon looks young and sweet and it’s infectious, this bubbling feeling in his chest so much so that he feels himself smiling and turns his own face into the pillow he’s borrowed.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. It depends on how nice he is to me the rest of the week..” He hears the smile in Simon’s murmured words,
“Goodnight Wille”

“Goodnight.”

__________________

They meet Felice and Nils inside the trendy hotel where they’ve booked a table for brunch.

Ayub was in fact rather annoyed at the lack of arepas for breakfast, but he had begrudgingly grabbed the packet of knäckebröd from the cupboard and set about making himself a sad-looking cheese sandwich instead as they had been tumbling out the door.

And it had snowed last night. Thick, magical, white blankets of the stuff. It was beautiful. The journey to the hotel in the city center had taken a little longer than originally planned due to the thick snow that had settled over everything as they had slept.

Wille loves snow, loves how bright and clean it makes the world. How everything is hushed and the smell of it is cold and sharp in his nose. He loves the way it makes the darkness of winter brighter as it sparkles and reflects the lights from the street lamps.

It seems Simon does not share his love for snow, as far as he can tell at least from the angry way he stomped through it on his way to the bus stop grumbling and how he spent nearly the entire bus ride complaining in a way that would be more convincing if it wasn’t with a cute flush from the cold on the tip of his nose and in the apple of his cheeks. 

Just inside the hotel, Felice makes a sound of excitement as she sees them approach, standing up from the table and throwing her arms out to hug Simon who hugs her back with a more reserved smile.

“Hi! I told your sister I was seeing you today and she told me to tell you that you owe her and your mother a phone call.”

“Oh did she now?” The man laughs a bit as Felice nods and pulls away with a grin.

Felice takes the opportunity to turn to Wille and pull him in for a crushing embrace, rocking back and forth a bit as Wille leans into her. “You Good?” He asks when she tightens her grip a bit.

“I’m just recharging. I haven't seen you in a while.”

“It’s only been a week…” he laughs gently, but nuzzles close. Wille knows he’s been spending more time with Simon lately and it’s been a long week at work which has taken a lot of his energy that he would usually have for his friends. 

“I know.” She sighs a bit and then leans up to kiss his cheek which makes him smile and from the corner of his eye he sees Simon watching with a smile on his lips.

And then Nils complains that Felice is getting to hug him for too long and he wraps his dramatic friend up in a tight hug, too tight judging by the way he smacks his arm and asks to be let go.

Simon makes a sound, a soft laugh at his side, and both of his friends turn almost in unison toward him, smiling wide, too wide to look natural.

“Simon! Good morning, thank you so much for joining. When I found out Wille was with you I told him he simply had to bring you.”

Simon looks a bit flustered at the attention, eyes widening in surprise, looking between him and Felice. “Oh? You’re not tired of me crashing your cocktail nights?”

Felice giggles, taking his arm and leading him over to the table they’ve been given, “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a joy to have here with us.”

She pulls him into the seat next to her and Wille catches the Look she gives Nils and then the fierce little conversation that passes between them with only their eyes.

He rolls his eyes and sits down beside Nils who leans forward with a too-sweet smile, “So Simon tell me how was last night?”

Wille reaches, pinching him from under the table which causes the man to jump and smile a little too tightly, hand wrapping over Wille’s wrist and pushing his hand away. 

Simon shrugs, “Wille came over for board game night. We usually do it a few times a month. I think he was a little overwhelmed last night though. I think this time the game was pretty hard.”

“Oh? Was he overwhelmed because it was too hard?” 

“ I’m sure you had a lovely time,” Felice interjects quickly and Nils agrees enthusiastically which makes her roll her eyes.

Simon has seemed to catch on to what they are doing and then laughs, seemingly unbothered, catching Wille’s eyes before looking down into his plate of quiche. 

Thankfully his friends let up and they manage to actually have a pleasant brunch, the three of them share a few mimosas while Simon sticks to fruit smoothies. Theres all sorts of foods to eat and his friends take a little bit of everything in order to taste as much as possible, but even then Wille is almost certain they’ve forgotten something. Now, taking a small bite of a chocolate mousse with a spoon, he observes the animated way Simon, Felice and Nils are all laughing about something that had happened while he was bringing back the plate of sweets.

When they had first started hanging out, Simon had expressed worry that he wouldn’t fit in with Wille’s friends, two people from wealthy backgrounds with very different lives and experiences. Wille had reminded him that he himself was also one of those people, but he understood he was still quite affected by his time at Hillerska, and he had admitted that knowing they had gone there definitely gave him preconceived ideas of what they would be like.

But it had been easy, natural even. Not that he had expected less. Felice and Nils could both be a little posh (Nils especially) but they are both down to earth when it comes down to it, and they have all grown up a lot from their days in school.

Afterward, on their way out, Simon slips down the corridor to use the toilets before they leave and once he’s out of sight and earshot Nils turns to Wille with wide eyes. 

“What the hell is going on with the two of you?”

Wille rolls his eyes and looks over at Felice for support but she simply gives him a knowing smile and shrugs.

“Oh not you too.” He says, recognizing the expression on her face.

“Sorry but…Nils has a point. You two were basically flirting the whole time we were there, at some points we had to actually fight for your attention.”

He makes a show of acting shocked, pressing his hand over his chest and sucking in a breath, “Traitor, I thought you were on my side!” 

“I am!” She laughs brightly, “You two are just…”

“I feel like they really need a big gay heart-to-heart to get on the same page.” Nils smirks from next to him, taking his arm at the same time as Felice.

He shakes his head in amusement and is about to give them a retort when Simon’s head of curls pops up from the stairwell followed by the rest of him.

“Thanks for inviting me.” He says once they’ve reached the entrance of the hotel.

“Of course!” Felice says leaning forward to hug him as Nils steps in to give him a peck on both of his cheeks.

“It was lovely to see you, Simon.” His friend says and Wille sees how Simon’s lips quirk upwards before he looks over to him.

“Thanks for letting me crash last night.” Wille says, “I should probably get back to mine and make sure all my plants aren’t dead.”

“Tell Carola I miss her.” 

Felice and Nils look over at him curiously as he laughs, “I will…oh” he looks over to his friends to explain, “Simon named all my plants. But his favorite is Carola.”

“Like Carola Carola?” Nils asks and Simon looks over at him with a grin.

“This plant is such a Diva, just like the real Carola.”

Nils’ eyes widen and he reaches for him, “Oh my god we have to do karaoke. I know nearly every Carola song by heart—-“

“Okay okay, Nisse.” Wille laughs putting a hand on his shoulder and looking over at Simon. “You unlocked something inside of him, you have no idea how much of a super fan he is.”

Simon grins, “No we can do Karaoke sometime. It would be fun and I don’t mean to brag but I’m pretty good at covering Carola songs.”

“Marry this man Wille,” Nils says, turning sharply to look at him seriously, reaching for his cheeks and squishing them a bit which makes Simon squeak in surprise. “Not only is he gorgeous, he has fucking taste .”

“Noted.” Wille laughs as Felice pulls Nils Off of Simon who seems a bit flustered but is smiling in confusion. 

He leans forward to hug Felice goodbye and then Nils and finally turns toward Simon who is the one to step into his embrace first, squeezing him tightly. 

“See you Monday Wille.” He murmurs and Wille squeezes him back tightly.

“See you soon.”

_____________________

In the Office on Monday, Simon finds him as he’s just finished sending off the finalized draft to a client. He looks up over his monitor to see him, hovering there, looking down at him impatiently. Before he even has time to say hello, Simon is already on him.

“Did you get an sms?” Simon asks, drumming his fingertips against the top of Wille’s desk.

“Huh?”

“For the party…wait you have to be in the group chat right?" Wille sees the phone he has in his hand and leans forward to peer at the screen before giving up trying to read from the distance he's at. Simon seems to have found whatever it was he was looking for though because he makes a satisfied noise,"Ah there you are. Let me just add you.”

His own phone makes an electronic chirp and he looks down to see the message Simon🍊 has added you to a groupchat called: Nonstop Notifications

Another party ? He thinks, pulling out his phone to check what Simon is talking about. At this point they might as well just open their own club, it would probably save them all a shit ton of money.“What is this?”

“Rosh and Maddie are finally moved in completely and are having their housewarming party.”

“Didn’t they move into their new place like over a month ago?”

“Yes.”

Wille distinctly remembers having been to Rosh and Maddie’s apartment on multiple occasions, so the whole premise of this party doesn’t even make sense. “Haven't we already been to their place before?” 

“Yeah, but be real it’s just an excuse to invite a ton of people over and drink and make stupid decisions.”

“We seem to have a lot of excuses for that kind of thing don’t we.”

“Hey, it’s usually your friends that are the instigators.” Simon says with a huff and an amused look on his face, “I mean this time it’s mine, but you know what I mean.”

“Well, I can’t help that my friends are alcoholics.” He leans back in his office chair and adds out of consideration, “ Functioning alcoholics that is.”

“ I will admit that they really like to drink.” Simon grins at him. He’s carrying some kind of envelope and Wille can tell he’s stopped here on his way back to his desk. 

“That’s rich considering the first time I met you after years and years was when you were drunk off your ass and you don’t even remember a thing.” Maybe it's a bit dangerous to admit, but he can’t really help himself.

“Oh come on. You keep teasing me about that. What did I miss? Did Beyoncé perform at the party or something? It’s like you’re holding something over me.”

“Oh no ha…nothing like that.” No Beyonce had not performed, but yes, they had made out and basically dry-humped each other before almost hooking up on Stella’s couch. 

“Did I strip and do a provocative burlesque performance for everyone?” Simon asks, leaning closer and waggling his eyebrows in a way that's supposed to convey he is joking, but it just makes Wille sweat a bit because really he’s not that far off.

“No, but now the image won’t leave my mind…”

“Anyway,” Simon laughs, “So you’re in the group chat.”

“What if I don’t want to go.”

“I’m not giving you a choice.”

“Wow.” Wille shakes his head, “ You really are a menace.”

Simon winks at him and makes to take off down the hall before Wille grabs one of the clementines off of his desk. 

“Hey Eriksson, catch.” The fruit leaves his fingertips in an elegant arch and Simon is quick, catching it at the last minute with wide eyes and quick reflexes.

“Another one?” Simon asks inspecting the fruit in his palm before looking up curiously at him.

“Well judging by the way you normally eat I thought you’d probably benefit from some vitamins. Plus it’s winter so you know what they say about vitamin C and colds.”

“Thanks, Wille.” The other shoots him a grin and raises the clementine before ducking out to wherever he’s headed. Wille watches him go and feels the smile on his lips grow. It’s better if Simon doesn’t know about Stella’s party right? Afterall they had gotten further after that and it wouldn’t change anything. Right? 

As he sits back down at his desk, he feels something hit the back of his head, a piece of paper balled up, turning he sees Maddie staring at him shaking her head, and then as if in succession his phone buzzes on the table.

Maddie:🔮 

Simp

He promptly flips her off with a middle finger and a sweet smile before he turns back to his monitor. 

_______________

The work week isn’t so exciting or noteworthy. After the leftover energy from the weekend wears off and fades into the monotony of client meetings, emails, deadlines and small emergencies that Wille has to deal with, it isnt’t until Thursday that he starts looking forward to the weekend. 

He heads over to Rosh and Maddie’s apartment on Friday evening,  after going home to get dressed for the party. He’s wearing a colorful and oversized patchwork sweater and dangling cross earring on one ear and several stud piercings on the lobe and upper part of his other ear. Wille spends a few minutes checking his reflection in his car mirror, making sure his hair doesn’t look too much like a rat's nest, and frowns at the red spot on his jaw that had seemed to pop up overnight. 

All in all, he’s not terribly displeased with his appearance so eventually he gets out of his car and locks it before making his way to the entrance of the apartment, ringing the apartment, and slipping inside after the door unlocks.

Maddie and Rosh live on the third floor overlooking a nice street and a park that is barely visible in the darkness. 

There’s already a collection of people when he gets let into the apartment by Maddie who has her hair in intricate braids and is wearing a psychedelic-colored sweatshirt and a choker necklace studded with the moon in different phases of eclipse. 

“Wille! Welcome!”

He looks around as though he hasn’t already been here a handful of times and smiles back at her, lifting the plastic Lidl bag he’s brought with him and pushing the bottle into her arms.

She opens the bag curiously, a grin blooming on her lips as pulls out the clear bottle of vodka he’s brought along.

“Housewarming gift for you. I thought about bringing a plant but considering the nature of the event this seemed more appropriate.”

“Vodka?” She grins, “You’re planning on getting shitfaced?”

“Oh, it’s not for me.” He assures, “I can’t drink vodka anymore after all of those university parties.” A full-body shudder goes through him and she makes an understanding noise. It must be some kind of universally accepted truth that there's always at least one type of alcohol that is forever ruined after enough university parties. 

She pulls him into the main room and introduces him to her friends, some of their neighbors, people from Rosh’s football club, as well as their work and sees a few people from his own office that he goes over to speak with for a bit before Felice and Nils show up after a bit and they all get roped into doing shots and events begin to get a little blurry.

At some point, he winds up with a rather fabulous pink wig and heart-shaped sunglasses that most likely were planted on him by Maddie but he has now decided belong to him.

He’s in the middle of recounting what he’s sure is a hilarious story when he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see Simon behind him, lips splitting wide into a grin as their eyes meet.

“Well, good evening sir.” He looks down over the rim of the pink plastic and winks at him with more bravado than you would think for someone who is definitely not drunk.

“Wow. This is certainly a look .” Simon laughs looking over him in a mixture of secondhand embarrassment and wonder.

“Be honest.” Wille slips the glasses off of the bridge of his nose and leans his head into his palm, fluttering his eyelids and pursing his lips in an attempt to be seductive, “You really want me right now don’t you.”

“Oh, I can barely control myself.” The curly-haired man fans at himself, “Believe me.” 

They both laugh, dropping the act and Wille turns fully to hug the other, sliding an arm around his shoulder, his own beer hanging loosely from his fingers. “Did you say hi to Maddie and Rosh?”

“Yeah I saw Maddie, but she told me Rosh is in the middle of something so I’ll go find them in a bit.”

“Want a drink?” He asks over the music and the noise of conversation and sees Simon nod, looking around the room,

They head over to the kitchen and Wille pulls out a cider for Simon who raises the can and clinks their drinks together with and grin.

They are with each other every single day, but he’s still excited to get to hang out with him outside of the office. There just something he loves about getting to be with Simon, being around him, being the person who has his attention and the person who makes him laugh and smile. 

“Rosh told me they invited a friend over tonight to introduce me. That might be Rosh’s way of telling me I need to start meeting people again.”

The words bring him pause as he looks up to gaze at his friend under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen. “Oh…like a guy?”

“Yeah.” He hears the frown in Simon’s voice and turns toward him.

“You don’t sound so excited about it. It's a good thing no?” It is a good thing that Simon wants to meet people. His friend deserves that.  

“I just….” Simon looks up and frowns, “I want to get over this hang-up I have….but I’m not really…I don’t want a relationship with this guy I just want….” Simon goes a bit pink and averts his eyes quickly.

There’s a beat of silence as his words trail off and Wille wonders momentarily what he means, tilting his head in thought before it dawns on him, “ Oh.”   A laugh bubbles forth when he realizes and Simon groans face growing an even darker hue of red.

“Simon if you want to hook up with someone just go for it—-“

Simon groans again, and covers his face with his hands, “Look I know you are more experienced when it comes to that but hookups aren’t really my thing .”

The words make him feel stunned, as though he's been tripped or the surface he's standing on is pulled out from beneath him. Wille goes quiet, thoughts racing to catch up as he replays them. Technically, Simon isn’t wrong, Wille definitely has had his share of one-night stands but the way he says it like Wille is always casual and it’s his relationships, while not exactly wrong…it doesn’t feel good coming from Simon. 

“I mean I know we….” Simon swallows and looks back at him with an odd sort of look. There’s a tension that builds suddenly as they watch each other. They haven’t spoken about that night, almost as though they’ve had some secret agreement, but there’s this vulnerability, this sense that things are shifting, seismically, when Simon turns toward him, biting his lip, finger tapping against the can of the cider.

“Um, Wille…”

“Yes?” He asks quickly, staring at him and the air between them grows heavy with unspoken things that he cant quite place.

Simon takes a step forward, but at that moment several people enter the kitchen and Wille hears a voice speak.

“Oh hey, Simon! Rosh told me you came in here…”

They both turn, a sinking feeling in Wille’s stomach as he spots a tall, broad man approach them with an easy handsome smile. The man has a shock of short blond hair, bright green eyes and a smattering of freckles that are painted across the bridge of his nose. This must be the guy that Simon had been talking about. It’s good that Simon wants to meet people. He has to tell himself the words a few times so he gets used to the way they sounds, but  even so theres something unknown and unpleasant shifting around in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey, you must be Rosh’s friend…Henrik?” Simon asks and the man leans toward him, a flirtatious smile crossing his lips.

“Oh, I see you already know my name?”

The thing that's inside of him, grows, twisting unpleasantly around his insides like a great big monster, annoyed and frustrated. “I mean Rosh must have told him,” Wille says flatly, but it’s under his breath and neither of them hear. He leans against the counter and sips at the bottle of beer he’s been nursing, for the first time that evening desperately wishing for something stronger.

He runs his eyes over Henrik, or Henke as he insists Simon call him. The man is undoubtedly attractive, with an athletic-looking body, well-defined arms and shoulders, and a waist that tapers into the sharp ridges of hips he can just see under the other’s tight-fitting top. 

He also seems fairly good at conversation if the way Simon leans in to talk to him is any indication. There’s a moment when his friend looks over his way almost like he’s looking for some kind of reassurance.

Wille knows it’s a lot that Simon is even putting himself out there, remembers his words about trying to meet people again, and tries to squash the strange feeling. He gives the man a discreet thumbs up and what he hopes is an encouraging smile even as the green thing inside him gnashes at his stomach.

Finally, Wille makes the decision to leave them be so they can get to know each other in peace, or whatever it is that they are doing and he slips out of the kitchen, downing the rest of his drink before grabbing another from a bowl of melting ice on the counter.

He makes it to the living room before he has to stop, rubbing against his chest and the confusing, contradictory things he feels there. It’s not okay that he monopolizes Simon's time, this reaction is stupid especially when Simon doesn’t like him like that and Wille was the one going on about how much he deserved to meet someone who wanted to get to know him just last weekend

Taking a long drink of the beer, Wille lets out a long sigh, allowing himself to lean back against some kind of piece of furniture, an end table he is careful not to shake and knock off the lamp that's sitting atop it.

“He’s in my football club.” 

Wille swears that he jumps nearly half a kilometer as the voice comes out of nowhere. His second instinct is to check the lamp, thankfully intact, and he turns to see Rosh leaning against the doorframe watching him with interest.

“Who? Hannes?”

“Henke.”

“Oh, sure. Cool.”

“You okay Wille?” Rosh asks, raising an eyebrow as he downs another great sip of beer.

“I’m cool. I’m good. Yeah.” He looks back toward the kitchen, where only part of the room is visible, where he can still just make out the profile of Simon turned toward the other man in conversation.

“So…Hannes is a good guy then?”

“Henke .”

“Right sure.”

“Yeah. He’s nice and a hell of a good footballer. Plus I happen to know he’s kind of Simon’s type.”

“Oh?” Wille turns, “Is that Simons type? With the muscles and the…little shirts and everything?” He gestures nonchalantly, thinking about the pecs and all of the lines and dips that are so visible in that very very small shirt the other man is wearing. “I didn’t realize…he was into muscly…athletes.”

Rosh snorts and if he didn’t know better he would almost think that they looked rather gleeful, “You sure you’re okay Wille?”

“I’m great.”

“Good because Maddie is arranging a game of truth or dare and she insisted that I get you to join.”

“Oh I don’t really—“

“You can’t get out of this one my friend. Maddie was very insistent, and whatever my woman wants, she gets.” They smirk a bit and gesture at him to follow over to the couch and where their girlfriend is standing in the middle of a circle of people, gesturing as she explains how the game is going to work.

“Oh my god Wille!” Maddie crows, definitely inebriated, reaching for him and dragging him toward the couch, and pushing him into the small sliver of space next to Nils.

He hasn’t played these kinds of party games since he was in university, but he can’t help but be swept up by the enthusiasm of the group and the beginning of a pleasant buzz in his stomach that’s helping distract him from the thing that’s stomping around out of frustration inside of him and the knowledge that some blond in a very tiny shirt currently is chatting his friend up in the room next door.

“This ought to be juicy.” Nils leans in and murmurs. 

They go around the group and everyone is just loose enough thanks to the drinks that they are playing along. Felice dares Ayub to tell everyone an embarrassing story about himself, which Simon, who has come in to join at some point with that hunk of meat trailing behind him, gladly contributes to much to his friend’s annoyance. Someone dares Maddie to show the group the last five photos on her phone which results in everyone getting more of an eyeful than they bargained for. She then in turn dares Nils to send a spicy sext to the last person he messaged and read it aloud. Which has everyone howling once he reveals he had sent it to his boss. 

When it’s Nils turn he looks up with an almost calculating gaze that sweeps over the faces in the room until it comes to rest on Wille who feels a sense of alert rush through him, sitting up straighter and trying to convey with his expression that he better not be doing what he thinks he’s about to do. Nils smiles, giving a guileless slow blink that Wille can see straight through having known him for so long.

“Truth or Dare Wille.” His friend says sweetly.

He can sense Simon looking over at him, and feels all of the eyes of the group turn to him as his smile tightens. He knows what game Nils is playing, and he's not going to make it easy for him, “Well since everyone has been doing Dare I guess I’ll do Truth.”

Nils smirk widens and he leans forward, eyes sweeping the room as he considers, finally his friend turns back to him with a devious glint in his eyes, “Have you ever made out with anyone sitting in this circle before?” 

Wille laughs dryly and he sees Nils’ expression light up as they regard each other. The group is now all looking around at each other now as if trying to get some context or see if anyone looks guilty. 

“I won’t answer that, come on Nils.” He says smoothly, “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

The group groans and he briefly catches Simon’s eye, the other man is slightly flushed and watching him with an unreadable expression.

“Oh my GOD you are so boring!” Nils laughs, downing the rest of the drink he’s holding, “Okay fine. Then rules say that since you didn’t answer you now have to do a dare.”

“Oh, do they now.” He sips at his beer and Maddie interjects with a profuse Yes they do.

Bullshit.

“I dare you to…” Nils looks around again at everyone, an exaggerated show of trying to decide when suddenly his eyes find Simon’s. “I dare you to kiss Simon. With tongue. If he lets you of course.”

There’s a ripple of laughter that goes through everyone, Maddie screams “OH MY GOD YES” slamming her hand on the floor and Rosh starts cackling from their spot close to Felice who seems like she’s trying to hold back a laugh. 

“What do you say, Simon?” Nils grins, “I bet Wille is too much of a coward to do it! Right?” 

Wille looks over at Simon, who is actually laughing. Hans or Håkan ( whatever his name is) beside him looks a bit annoyed, gaze suspiciously moving between the man next to him and Wille himself. 

Simon shrugs, “I’m down. But I don’t know…Maybe Wille IS too much of a coward.” 

He looks over at Wille and smirks, meeting his eyes with a challenge. Nils crows victoriously and then everyone starts chanting Kiss him! Kiss him! Kiss him!

The thing inside of him perks up at the look in Simon’s eyes, the lines of his body posture as he watches Wille from the other side of the circle. The noise made by the others is dense and raucous and something confident and similar to the rush of intensity that had led him and Simon into that bathroom stall months ago brings him to his feet as he stands up from the couch.

A hush falls over the circle as he strides toward Simon, whose eyes are widening, lips open in a slack expression of surprise. With a deft, but gentle move Wille takes his hand and pulls him toward the couch as Nils and the girl who had been next to him leap apart to give him space.

He hopes Helmer is watching this very carefully.

Wille falls back onto the couch, tugging at Simon’s hand, and in response the other slides onto his lap in a single fluid motion, resting on his knees, barely hovering over him and looking down at him with dark eyes and a faint flush on his cheeks. 

“Are you going to take the wig off?” Simon asks and he hears the tease just there under the faint nervousness.

“I don’t think I will,” Wille says with a smirk and takes the other's chin with a gentle, but firm hand, tilting his face downward to look into his own.

Faintly he registers that their friends are being loud, but it’s faded, the noise nothing but a dim background buzzing as his heartbeat is the loudest thing in his ears and every cell in his body is practically humming with energy as his entire vision is full of nothing but Simon. 

Simon’s curls and his pretty eyes and dark lashes, the little scar near his lip, and the almost airbrushed look of his skin save for the small scar near his lip that Wille wants nothing more than to reach out and run his fingers over.

“Is this okay?” Wille asks under his breath only for Simon to hear, and the other man laughs softly, perhaps nervously at the words, “Because we don’t have to you know. I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

The response is almost immediate, and Simon looks earnest, placing a hand on Wille’s chest between them, “I’m comfortable. It’s okay.”

Wille thinks about the man who had spent the last twenty minutes chatting Simon up, his eyes drifting over to where he’s sitting watching them both with a sour expression. 

He feels a stab of vindicated glee at the expression, the green monster inside of him that had come to life satiated and smug, looking back at him with a grin tugging at his lips. 

They lean forward a bit and he’s somewhat aware of the noise outside of their space growing louder, their noses brush awkwardly and then they both laugh at the same time, tension releasing as the laughter grows. He waits for Simon to make the first move and finally, when the man leans forward, he also feels him rest his body against his, hips fitting flush against Wille’s own.  

Simon kisses him and he can feel the grin still on his lips as his hands slide over Wille’s shoulders, their bodies seem to instinctively press closer together, somehow fitting just perfectly against each other. Wille brings his hands to Simon’s waist and kisses him back.

He tastes like the syrupy cola he’s been drinking and Wille feels him laugh against his lips again as there’s a tug on the stupid pink wig he’s wearing. Simon brings a hand up to wrap tightly between the strands of his hair and they both take a sharp breath, Wille tilted up towards him as Simon kisses him, full of some newfound confidence, nipping his bottom lip and Wille can feel him grinning against his smile.

It’s like a challenge, something that sends a white-hot heart like a shock of electricity through him and he’s gripping at his sides, kissing up insistently into Simon as he is hyper-aware of the little movements of the other's hips and where their bodies are pressed into each other.

The room around them comes back, as though it’s been unmuted and sound comes pouring back in. The bass of the music, their friends catcalling and laughing.

Simon pulls back in that same moment with a sharp grin on his lips, cheeks slightly flushed and Wilhelm could stare at him for hours like this. It’s  almost cinematic how everything comes together to make him feel, the way his friend looks like an image he has only seen in some kind of fantasy, loose and pliant with a teasing glint in his eyes and lips capable of devastating things.

Simon eyes flicker almost shyly between his own lips and eyes and Wille looks up into his face, slightly dazed as he feels his hands brushing against the nape of his neck, lingering there for a moment where only the two of them exist. And then Simon pulls away from him slightly, twisting his upper body slightly to look over at the people behind them and hold up the wig which makes everyone explode once more in cheering.

“My trophy,” Simon murmurs once he turns back to him and Wille swallows as he winks, crawling off of his lap and hopping off the couch to twirl the sparkly thing in his fingers.

There are people nudging him, but he’s only watching Simon who is being pulled away by Rosh and Ayub. And then there is the unbridled sense of glee he feels when he sees Henrik or whatever his name is storm off somewhere with a frown on his lips. 

Felice catches his eyes then and raises an eyebrow as she sips the unidentified alcoholic beverage from the glass with a smirk that makes him want to grab her and make her tell him why she’s looking like that.

At some point, Simon comes back and the game has already dissolved into dancing in groups and Maddie grabs them both, pulling them over to the center of the room with her and Rosh and Felice. 

Simon pulls him close when a song he likes comes on over the speaker and Wille sees every eye in the group, including Nils from the other side of the room turn to him, watching as Simon touches him, lightly, and briefly, but solid.

They grin at each other, effervescent and easy as they circulate one another. He’s happy. Really fucking happy, because he got to kiss Simon, and the world didn’t fall apart and swallow him whole. He’s still standing here and it doesn’t feel weird or awkward and they are laughing and Simon is smiling at him and he’s so fucking glad they are in each other's life. 

The evening shifts and time stretches and eventually his phone is practically begging for a charge having gone down to under ten percent. Wille remembers he keeps an extra charger in his bag so he heads to the hallway, where he's hung his things up in the closet when he hears someone behind him, footsteps hurrying after him.

“Wille!”

He stops but perhaps too suddenly because he finds himself with an armful of Simon, beaming up at him. “You’re not leaving are you?” He asks, slipping an arm into his and Wille smiles a bit at the tight way he’s holding on.

“No, I wasn’t planning on it.” Wille says, “My phone is dying so I was looking for the charger—”

“You forgot this.” Simon holds up the pink wig and shakes it causing several of the glittery strands to fall from his fingers, practically laughing as he does so. 

Wille beams at him and gives a small laugh, shaking his head, “I thought you said that was your trophy. I thought I’d let you keep a token from your conquest.”

“I think it looks better on you.” Simon laughs and Wille clicks his tongue, placing his hands on Simon’s shoulders and turning him toward the full-length mirror near the entrance. From this position he can see the difference in their size, how he is just tall enough to rest his chin on the top of his head. Simon meets his gaze in the mirror, almost expectant. 

“Hmm, I have a theory,” Wille murmurs leaning forward a bit with his cheek pressed to the side of Simon’s curls. 

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” His friend asks, gaze never once wavering off of his reflection.

“That anything would look good on you,”

Simon laughs but Wille feels the way he tenses slightly under his fingertips, catches the way his fingers linger on his shoulder, on his arm.

“Yeah, I’m not so sure that’s true in this case.” Simon turns toward him finally, grinning and he tears his gaze away from the reflection of the two of them and looks down into his dark amused eyes.

“I’ll prove it.” Wille says seriously, raising an eyebrow in a show of seriousness, “Just close your eyes.”

Simon snorts and then without a single complaint closes his eyes just as Wille instructed. It’s cute, but he had expected him to resist a little bit more than that, laughing Wille fishes the wig from his hands, “That was a little too easy. You didn’t even ask me why.”

“I trust you,” Simon says simply and it’s stupid but he can’t help the way his heart skips a beat.

“Maybe that’s your downfall.” He teases as he settles the wig on top of the curls.

“Don’t fuck up my hair Cronstedt. Not all of us look good with a mullet.”

“I won’t thank you very much. Also thanks for telling me you think my mullet looks good. I knew you had a thing for it.”

“I do not —” Simon reaches backward trying to hit him and missing greatly as Wille ducks out of the way. He finished, looking into the mirror at his finished work before letting out a sharp bark of a laugh, slapping his hand over his mouth.

“What?!” Simon is laughing now too, “Oh my god let me just—“

“You look like the Gen Z version of Liza Minelli oh my god…” he can’t stop laughing and finally he feels Simon grab his wrist and pull it away from his head, eyes snapping open to meet his own reflection in the mirror.

They both freeze, Simon staring for a second and then as he meets Wille’s gaze again they both can no longer hold it in. They practically collapse in a heap of giggling, Simon reaching for the wig and practically throwing it across the room with an exclamation of oh my god no one can ever see me look like this! 

“Hey, my wig!” Wille cackles, swaying as Simon grips him, wiping at the tears that have collected in the corner of his eye. His face hurts from laughing and smiling so hard and Simon might be experiencing the same problem with the way he’s laughing with flushed cheeks that he tries to massage out.

“What did I tell you? Liza Minnelli right?”

“Shut up oh my god!” Simon pushes at him, cackling, “I’m burning that thing so I’ll never have to see you or me in it ever again.”

“You have my permission.”

They both freeze when they hear a voice, “Hey, is this your wig?”

A young woman has come into the hallway on her way to the toilet, bending down to pick up the messy pink atrocity, she takes a step toward them, offering it out.

“Nope,” Wille says as seriously as he can, trying to control his face.

“Definitely not.”

“Never seen it before in my life.”

“Wig? What’s a wig?”

And then he can’t control it anymore, they both burst into giggles, gripping onto each other which causes her to look at them in confusion, blinking before setting the wig down on the table “Um. Okay?” She goes into the bathroom and they wait until the door is closed before turning to each other again.

Wille pushes Simon, “ What’s a wig? What the fuck?” His cheeks ache from the grin he’s got across his lips.

“I was going to tell her the ghost of Liza Minelli left it there but let’s be honest she probably had no idea who Liza Minelli is.”

“Oh hell.”

Simon laughs again, leaning his head back against his shoulder, leaning his body weight against Wille’s chest. “This has been a fun night.” He hears Simon say and leans against him as well with a smile.

“Oh Ho Ho Ho . What is this I see?” Another voice sounds, a familiar voice this time, and when he turns he sees Nils, leaning in the doorway, Smartphone raised in the act of no doubt, taking a picture of the two of them.

“Hey, Nisse.” He says, with a slight tone of fond exasperation, “Did you get lost?”

“No, but your manic pixie Liza Minelli in candy land fantasy wig sure did.”

“See! He sees Liza too” Simon says, pointing to Nils as the other bends down to pick the thing up and pull it over his head.

“And I look much better than either of you ever could.” Nils strikes a few exaggerated poses, making them both laugh. The real gag is that he actually can pull it off somehow. Maybe it's confidence or maybe Wille is just a bit more tipsy than he remembers being.

“Are you stalking me?” Wille finally asks pulling away from Simon.

“Oh…sorry for intruding but actually there’s a gentleman asking where you are.” He points toward Simon, who widens his eyes.

“Oh?”

“Tall, broad, athletic, blond type. Very small shirt. Ring any bells?”

“Oh…Henrik….I told him I’d talk with him later. Is it already later?”

As if on cue Henrik (so that's his actual name then huh) materializes from around the corner. He looks a bit annoyed to see that Wille is there as well and when he steps toward Simon he doesn't even acknowledge him.

“Well speak of the devil and he shall appear.” Nils murmurs leaning close to Wille who frowns a bit, unsure why his mood has begun to sour. He turns to listen as Henrik bends close to Simon’s ear even though it’s not his conversation to eavesdrop on.

“What?” Simon asks as Henrik is saying something that it seems like the other man is having trouble making out, so this time when he speaks the blond repeats loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You want to come get a drink with me in the kitchen?”

“Oh…” Simon looks over at Wille, expression searching, “I’m not sure…” he looks a bit awkward and Wille frowns realizing that he’s been monopolizing Simon’s time again, without really meaning to. The fact that Simon even feels like he needs to ask Wille’s permission or something to go talk with this guy wasn't his intention.

“You should go.” He says, slightly under his breath, nudging Simon who stares at him with an unreadable expression for a moment.

Henrik picks that moment to lean forward, looking between them curiously. “Is there something between you two?” 

They both turn toward him in surprise while Nils miraculously, for the first time all night, remains silent. “Why are you asking?”

The blonde shrugs and Wille sees the way the man’s large hand settles over Simon’s shoulder, “That kiss seemed pretty…intense.” 

He’s still riding the high of the party and the realization of how much this friendship with Simon means to him. And he knows Simon has been holding himself back from dating because he’s trying to focus on himself for a bit. But it’s been months and now Simon’s been toying with the idea of dating again, they’d talked about it before.

He sips at his drink and looks down at the same time Simon looks up, catching his eye. For a moment he imagines that Simon is at a  loss, almost as though he's looking for something from Wille himself.

However, after a beat, Henrik turns back to Simon, "So? Anything I should know about?"

Simon stares at Wille, but he doesn't understand the look, and the first thing his mind goes to is that Simon is annoyed that Wille is there hovering over him while he's trying to flirt. Wille takes a step back and shakes his head and Simons expression tightens a bit, he almost looks disappointed as he turns to the blond, “Oh…no Henke, we are just friends.”

“Oh yeah?” The other pulls back looking equally surprised and pleased to hear this “You could have fooled me with that kiss, that was hot—“

“ Well, we are just friends.” Wille hears Simon say again, turning his body away from him and towards the blonde. 

The green monster that had reared its head earlier shifts unhappily inside of him and he takes another long sip of his drink and pushes it down. 

This could be a chance for Simon to meet someone again, to try opening himself up to the idea of dating once more. This guy could be a really great one, if he’s friends with Rosh then he’s got to be a decent guy right? 

He looks over at them again, staring at Simon’s back as they talk, the man, Henrik, looks up catching his gaze for a moment before leading Simon back down the hall.

“Wow.” His friend's voice comes from behind him and he turns to see Nils leaning against the wall, contemplative, looking rather serious even though he’s in a sparkling pink wig. 

“Don’t start Nisse.”

“What was that about?”

“What are you talking about.”

“You just willingly pushed Simon into the arms of another man. I don’t get it, Wille. Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” His friend raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. 

He stares at Nils, his mind scrambling to come up with a good answer when people start down the hall, chatting between one another and cutting him off just as he’s about to defend himself.

They shift a bit as the partygoers grab their shoes and coats and there’s an odd, awkward silence as they are pulling them on, the rustle of fabric and the heavy sound of boots.

“Goodnight.” The girl smiles, nodding to them as they step outside of the apartment. Wille isn’t sure he had actually spoken to either of these people all night.

“Have a good evening,” Nils says for him, waving as the door shuts behind them. The man then turns, looking at him.

“He was totally waiting for you to say something,” Nils says and they are back to this. Honestly, the conversation is hurting his head.

“Simon and I are friends. Nisse. He told me he wants to be friends and I respect that.”

“I don’t know Wille. I think he likes you.”

“Nisse,” With a slight smirk on his lips he turns to look at his friend with a raised brow, “I think we both know that two people can be attracted to each other and be close friends but not date.”

His friend laughs hard at that, “Are you saying that I am attracted to you?”

Wille grins at him, “I'm saying we’ve been in similar situations before.”

That pulls a raucous laugh from the shorter man who shakes a finger at him, “I think you’re changing the subject, but I’ll bite. Maybe that’s true but I never gave you puppy dog eyes in hopes you would come in with your noodly limbs and obsession with Art Nouveau and whisk me away from a handsome football player.”  

Wille rolls his eyes and smirks around the rim of his beer bottle, “Puppy dog eyes. Oh please.”

“No really. I mean he was practically begging for you to throw him a bone. Literally and figuratively I’d wager.”

“Oh shut up.” Wille pushes him and the other man sidesteps him with a single graceful move and then laughs when Wille flips him off.

“Listen, you're a grown man. I’m not going to tell you what to do. But I have eyes. Felice has eyes. We aren’t dumb.”

“Nisse. Look.” He sighs and closes his eyes a minute before looking over at his friend, “I appreciate you guys doing this, but I love being Simon’s friend okay? You know my track record with dating my friends…I don’t want to lose him, the way I lost Alex. Plus…he told me he just wants to stay friends, so that’s that.”

At the mention of his last relationship, or at least the last relationship that had been deeper than both sexual attraction and compatibility, Nils frowns and takes a breath. He had been there to witness the fallout from all of that after all.

It's just not that easy.

“Alright, I’m not trying to push you. I just…you’re right. It’s between you guys.” Nils leans against him, he still is wearing that stupid wig. “I just want you to be happy, you know?”

“I know you’re just being supportive, but it’s okay . I am happy.” Wille turns to look down at him, nudging their shoulders together with a grin.

“Promise?” The expression on the other's face is contemplative and Wille feels a burst of fondness for him.

“I promise.”

“Fine.”

They lean against each other for a minute before Wille reaches up and snatches the wig right off of Nils’ head, who lets out an indignant cry.

“You little whore!”

Wille raises it high above his head, cackling as Nils tries unsuccessfully to grab it because of their height difference. “It’s so cute seeing you try.”

“Fuck you!” 

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in me like that.”

“You wish. It’s not my fault that you’re freakishly tall and noodly.”

“Maybe you’re just freakishly short—“

“Oh go to hell.” Nils laughs pushing him away.

“It’s probably way warmer than Sweden.” They catch each other's eyes and grin before Wille tosses the wig at him and darts down the hallway.

“I’m not chasing you! I’m a grown man!” His friend's voice echoes down the hall.

“You’re an old man you mean!” 

“What the fuck? I’m only two years older—-“

The last thing he sees when he turns his head is Nils chasing him with the pink wig still clutched in his grip and Simon, in the living room with Henrik, gaze straying over to them as the man leans forward in conversation.

It's enough to just be friends. That's what Simon wants. Isn't it?

Chapter Text

Simon is halfway back to his apartment when he finally sees a text from Henrik.

Henrik

Hey everything okay? Where did you go?

He snorts, leaning back in the bus seat, arms crossed over his chest and considers putting the phone in his bag and ignoring the message but after a minute or so the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Rosh nagging at him so he opens the chat with a frown.

Me

Hey. Sorry I had to run home. Tried to find you but couldn’t

Me

Really sorry. Thanks for the night!

Simon sees that Henrik reads the message almost immediately and feels a hint of guilty panic bloom watching the texting bubbles appear and reappear. But why should he feel guilty? This whole trying to be more confident and self-preserving thing is much harder than he had expected.

He closes out of the chat before the other can respond. 

Okay so bailing on their “date” and trying to excuse himself by lying isn’t the greatest thing but my god he couldn’t sit through another hour of bar trivia he would have probably ended it all.

Twenty-six minutes.

That was how long it took Henrik to realize he had left. Simon had come tonight keeping an open mind knowing for the first time he’s been single and able to be casual and no strings attached. Henrik doesn’t know this but he would probably have gone home with him had the man played his cards right. So frankly, if it took almost half an hour to notice his absence the guy couldn’t have been so invested. Not to mention bringing him on a date to a bar with six of his friends for a trivia night which Henrik was weirdly competitive about and so focused that Simon couldn’t even get him to talk much. 

So he thinks Henrik will be fine. 

The first thing he does after complaining cryptically on his Twitter circle is pull up Wille’s contact.

Me

How is it that the first first “date” I end up going on after almost two years with my ex and months of being single is such a complete disaster

It’s not even two minutes before he gets a reply.

Wille🧑🎨

How bad was it?

Me

You want the long or short version?

Wille🧑🎨

That bad? 

Me

I left without telling him and it took him almost half an hour to realize.

The next thing he knows Wille is calling him, the screen is lit up and when Simon answers he finds that he's genuinely touched by the undercurrent of worry he hears in Wille’s voice, however, at the same time he’s a bit surprised considering how late it is. 

“ What the fuck? What an asshole. Are you okay?”

“It’s okay Wille.” He says trying to dissuade his worry as he turns to look out the dark bus window, the lights passing over the grey ghostly white streets and rooftops. “It wasn’t as dramatic as I made it sound. We went to bar trivia ” He can’t quite help the disdain in his voice which makes Wille laugh softly on the other end. 

“ Want to talk about it?” 

“Yeah but not now. I’m exhausted. But why don’t we get out of the office tomorrow at lunch and I’ll spill all the dirty details. Or lack thereof.”

“ Are you on your way home? ” Wille’s voice is soft and concerned, distorted slightly through the speaker.

“Yeah, I’m on the bus. I’m almost there…you know it’s almost 1 am, Wille.”

“ Yeah? And? ”

“You didn’t have to call, you should go to bed you have work in the morning.”

The man snorts, “ Interestingly enough so do you. Did you forget we actually work together ?”

Simon rolls his eyes, before checking where they are. He is only one of two other people on the bus which is silent and dim as it drives through residential streets. One of the other passengers is sleeping, pressed against the window while the young woman in front of him is scrolling through her phone.

“I mean I made that conscious decision before I went out. You’re like at home right?”

“ Yeah, I’m in bed .” 

Simon imagines him, sprawled out with those stupid long limbs in that lumpy bed of his, or hunched over his tablet adding details to a drawing that’s been consuming him for days. He imagines the wrinkled twisted sheets and the goofy pyjama pants that the other owns, smiling a bit at the image.

He has been to Wille’s place a few times. They usually hang out at Simon’s since Wille lives much further out than he and Ayub do. But Wille doesn’t have a roommate so financially it makes more sense to live further out. 

Simon sometimes wonders if he’s lonely living out there by himself, he had asked him once but Wille had told him that he liked living alone. No one to be annoyed by his odd sleeping schedule or when he has fits of midnight creativity that have him up at all hours, playing music as he works. No one to complain about his playlists or if he doesn’t do the dishes immediately.

However, Simon, can’t fathom living alone. It’s already weirdly quiet without Rosh, Ayub is usually gone in the daytime at the school where he’s a teacher at a middle school in one of the city’s lower-income areas. He puts a lot of work into his job and the evidence of how important it is to him is visible in their apartment. The photo with his class on the refrigerator, little notes and gifts from students and their parents taking up an increasing amount of space on the shelves in his bedroom. At night though he spends a lot of time in his friend's studio, the same place Simon used to record. Ayub’s hobby is music as well as DJing at bars and clubs and he’s usually always out in the evenings. 

Simon hadn’t really noticed it much, with his own odd hours as a performing artist and with Rosh around in the evenings. But now that he has a 9-5 and not much going on in the evenings, the apartment is quiet. Too quiet for him. He doesn’t like the quiet or feeling like he’s alone in the apartment, which is one of the reasons Wille has been spending more and more time over.  

“Sorry for bothering you, Wille.”

A laugh, a shift and rustle of sheets. “ Simon I called you.”

“Yeah but I texted you super late—“

“ Don’t apologize I’m glad you texted. I was up anyway. ”

“You were?” Simon had suspected as much, “On your tablet?”

Wille pauses for a moment and the longer the silence drags the more the concern blooms in his chest, “ Just…having some trouble sleeping lately .” The other says, “ I’m okay though ”

Simon frowns, shifting and grabbing his things as the bus comes to a halt at his stop. “can’t sleep?” 

“ It’s just one of those days. ” Is the other's response and Simon remembers the things the other had shared with him that night in Simon’s bed about his anxiety and mental health struggles, how Wille had told him he had bad days and good days. 

Simon steps off the bus and into the cold dark night. The bottom of his shoes crunch against the slushy wet ground as he turns in the direction of his building, “You can talk to me if you need to, you know that yeah?”

“ I know that. Thanks, Simon. Really I’m okay, it just is like this sometimes…are you still on the bus?”

“If you’re sure.” He murmurs, his breath crystallizing in the frigid air as he makes his way along the lighted pathway. “No, I just got off at my stop. Almost home now.”

“ Okay well, I’m going to try and sleep before I’m completely useless tomorrow…err today. I’m glad you’re home safe. We will talk about everything at lunch, yeah? ”

He pauses at the entrance, biting the inside of his lip, he can’t really help the worry that flutters around in his stomach but he isn’t going to push him and there’s not much he can do from here anyway. “Okay, Wille. Sleep tight. See you tomorrow.”

“ See you soon .”

He pulls off his earphones and stuffs them back in their case as he makes his way up the staircase and quietly lets himself into the dark apartment, pulling off his boots at the entrance and hanging up his fat puffy jacket. 

The place is hushed and lightless save for the sliver of dim light from the nightlight in the bathroom and the distant glow of street lamps that comes through the window in the kitchen that faces the street. 

Simon gets himself a glass of water, looking out into the night he had just come in from and sighs, running a hand through his curls. He’s exhausted and the knowledge that his deskjob is waiting for him is a little more than soul crushing. The one bright spot in all of this is the knowledge that at least he will get to see Wille.

Thats the thought he carries with him as he washes up in the bathroom and then heads to bed after changing. At least he can tell all of this shit to Wille tomorrow.

______________

Ayub corners him in the morning, seemingly much more fresh-faced than Simon himself. He doesn’t know if his friend was home when he came back, but judging by the way he’s humming under his breath and how he isn’t carrying a Monster energy drink in his hand he’s guessing he had an earlier night than Simon himself.

“Hey, Simme.” Ayub grins as he shuffles up to the coffee machine, pouring himself a large cup.

“Hey. Thanks for making this for me.”

“I was kind of surprised to see your shoes in the hallway this morning. I assumed you would spend the night with Henrik.” His friend waggles his eyebrows suggestively and Simon turns, leaning against the counter and snorting. 

Something about his body language must give him away because Ayub blinks and then leans toward, “Oh shit bad night?”

He frowns, looking up over the lid of his mug, “Well let’s just say. I thought I wouldn’t be coming back home either but we both were proven wrong.”

“Oh damn.”

“Why is this so complicated Ayub? It shouldn’t be so hard right?”

“Uh, what exactly?”

He groans, not really wanting to spell it out but having no choice, “Like…I thought Henrik was going to be up for something casual and just…you know…like…”

“Just sex.”

Ayub’s straightforward words make him want to curl in on himself a bit only because of how transparent he knows he is being but he just sighs and nods. “Yeah. I just thought it would be easier to have casual sex than to date you know?”

“So you’re not interested in dating him?”

“I’m not interested in dating anyone,” Simon says and Ayub hums.

“I mean. Did he know that?”

“I mean—- we said we were just going to hang out and see where the night takes us. But we ended up playing trivia in a bar with six of his friends. Not exactly the end of the night I was hoping for. We never really got to the subject.”

Ayub laughs, “Why are you so horny Simon. You’ve only been single for a few months?”

“Yeah…but Marcus and I didn’t…we’ll it’s been longer than a few months let’s put it that way. Ugh, I hate dating. I hate it. But being single kind of sucks too.”

“I haven’t gotten laid in so long that at this point I feel like I’ve transcended above physical needs. I’m like a guru or something.” Ayub closes his eyes in an exaggerated expression of peace and contentment. 

He snorts and shakes his head, “But are you okay with that?”

His friend opens his eyes and shrugs, “To be honest man…I’ve never really cared much for sex anyway. I mean it’s fine but I always feel like I could be doing something else.”

He wishes he could relate, but really he’s the opposite and he’s going slightly stir crazy. “I wish I could just turn my brain off—“

“Your other brain?”

“Shut up Ayub.”

“I don’t know man. Why don’t you get a fuckbuddy or something.”

He coughs into his coffee, “Ew Ayub.” He thinks of anonymous, faceless strangers in seedy clubs and unfamiliar hands and the idea doesn’t appeal at all, “I wish I could just…I don’t know meet someone who like I get along with and isn’t a complete creep and who I’m attracted to…but it’s like no strings attached. But also not anonymous like a hook-up because I don’t think that’s really my thing.”

“Simon that’s literally what a fuckbuddy is. Like friends with benefits, you know? A friend who you already kind of know and you both have an arrangement that works for you two.”

He pauses and looks over at Ayub the gears turning in his head, “Oh…”

Ayub blinks at him after a minute of this, “I’m not offering. By the way.” His friend laughs and it pulls Simon out of his thoughts as he makes a face.

“Ew.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Simon reaches for him, “No, I've known you too long and also not interested in being your gay awakening thanks.”

Ayub laughs hard at that and shakes his head, “Hmm well it’s just an idea. Sex doesn’t have to be such a big deal unless you want it to be. There’s got to be someone who would be up for something like that right?”

He leans back, chewing his lip, his mind already going to a specific person and the idea seems crazy, except…well they kind of have already been there, done that and it had turned out pretty great because they are closer than ever before and he doesn’t feel any pressure for that to change. 

It’s easy with Wille.

Sure he had sometimes wondered whether Wille ever thought about him as more than just a friend, but that question had been answered for him at the party at Maddie and Rosh’s. So Simon feels pretty confident that that’s where their relationship fits most comfortably. 

That whole night Simon had been wondering if Wille would make a move, but aside from kissing him (and hell Simon still thought about that kiss because….reasons) they had firmly stayed in their places. But it had felt nice to be able to kiss him and it just be a kiss for fun, to not feel the pressure of what’s going to happen next . What does he want? What do I want?

It’s kind of freeing in a way even.

“Who are you thinking about?” Ayub asks curiously and Simon looks over at him.

“Mmm, you know Wille.”

His friend doesn’t look surprised, instead, he gets this kind of serious look on his face and blinks, crossing his arms over his chest and placing the coffee mug on the counter, “Yeah. I think I’m familiar.”

“We…kind of hooked up once? Already?”

That does manage to surprise Ayub, his eyes widen and he makes a noise, “Oh shit Rosh was right.”

“What?”

“Rosh guessed something happened with you two.” And Simon can’t believe his friends have been talking about this without him knowing.

“Oh well…it wasn’t like…we hooked up and then we decided to keep it friendly. We’ve actually become really good friends since…and it feels like he might be…into the idea.”

“Friends with benefits?” Ayub seems surprised and he frowns, “But…I thought you guys liked each other.”

“We do like each other.”

“No as more than friends…like you don’t want to be friends with benefits with someone you have actual feelings for Simon…it gets messy. It should be very upfront and laid out.”

“Oh.” Simon frowns, “I don’t think he has feelings for me Ayub. Like we are attracted to each other but we’ve spent a lot of time alone like we’ve slept in the same bed and he’s never made a move since we hooked up. Plus…I trust him and I think it would be fun. For both of us. I don’t know it’s kind of perfect.”

Ayub looks doubtful, troubled even, “You don’t like him though? You wouldn’t date him?”

Simon frowns and looks over at the window, Ayub doesn’t really understand. “I don’t want to date him.”

“Simon you like him right?”

“Yes. As a friend.”

“Really just friend s?”

He closes his eyes tightly and then looks at Ayub, “You know what I’ve learned after all my shitty relationships?”

His friend swallows his words, perhaps sending the tension in him or maybe just not knowing what to say.

“I’ve learned that dating people ruins everything. You can like someone a lot and think they are really fun or cool or whatever but then as soon as you put a label on things it changes. They change. You change. Things always end up bad and end up in fights and with you never talking to each other again.”

“Simon….”

“I’ve dated a lot, Ayub. I haven’t been single since I was like seventeen. And every time it’s disappointing.”

“Maybe Wille is different though…”

“And if he isn’t? Then I’m just going to lose him and lose this friendship we have. I can’t lose that. I don’t want to.”

“But Simon what if he wants more and it just makes it difficult and you lose him anyway?”

“I’m going to be honest with what I want. And if that’s not what he wants then he would tell me. Right?”

Ayub shuffles to the side, frowning, “….I can’t know that Simon. I would hope so.”

“I don’t know why I can’t just have something that’s easy and fun and casual. Wille does that all the time why would it be any different with me?” He’s frustrated, everyone keeps telling him its easy, hell even Simon himself thinks it can’t be that difficult, it was Ayub who had suggested this in the first place, so why is he being weird about it now?

“Just be honest with him Simon. Like I said it doesn’t have to be a big deal, but sometimes it is. When there are feelings involved. So make sure you’re upfront about you want and what you expect and hopefully he is too.”

“He will be.”

_______

There isn’t much that's more depressing than commuting to work in the pitch dark, especially knowing that you're stuck inside an office for the few hours of meager sunlight and that it will be pitch dark once you start to commute home.  

Simon doesn’t even remember the last time he felt the sun, like real sunshine on his skin. 

Maybe he’s being over dramatic, but he hates winter. Hates the cold and the darkness, hates the bleak skies and dead tree skeletons that line the pathways where lush green once was. He hates the way everyone seems short-tempered and sour. Hates having to wear so many layers and hates how long it takes to get out the door.

He even hates things that are supposed to be charming about Winter. 

Simon hates snow with a passion, could care less about winter sports, doesn’t particularly care for hot chocolate and Christmas is one of his least favorite holidays. Christmas always comes with bad memories of his father getting drunker and drunker and his parents fighting until Micke would explode and turns his anger on whoever was unlucky enough to be closest to him. 

No, Simon is much more of a summer person.

So when he finally trudges through the commute to the office and finds Wille with his nose practically pressed against the glass he can’t fathom for the life of him why Wille seems so freaking excited as he looks out at the square, dusky and blue in the low light, lights in the glass of Kulturhuset and the headlights from the traffic that circles around the fountain.

“Simon it’s snowing.” He says as Simon approaches from behind, having already dropped his messenger bag at his desk.

Taking a sip of coffee out of the mug he’s brought from home to store here he frowns and looks out, following Wille’s line of sight, it had just started snowing again once he had gotten on the bus, which had delayed the route because of the slower traffic and all he could think about was how much he hates snow.

“Unfortunately.”

“I just don’t understand how you can hate something as pretty as snow. It’s so magical.” The shine in his eyes and the way he’s so fixated on the view outside of the glass is full of childlike wonder almost, and he just can’t understand it because Wille has been living in Sweden his whole life, how is he not desensitized by now?

“If I could live somewhere that I never have to come face to face with snow again. I would. In a heartbeat.”

Wille rolls his eyes, looking back at him with a shake of his head. “You’re so grumpy.”

“Well, that’s probably due to the vitamin D deficiency.”

His friend smirks and makes a low whistle as Simon stares blankly.

“Vitamin D deficiency you say.”

“Because it’s dark….”

“Right. Sure.”

“What are….oh. Fuck you Wille” He says in exasperation, pushing at the other's shoulder, “Don’t you have some work to start?”

“Don’t you?”

“I have a meeting in an hour that I need to prep for and then I have some things to look over that will take a while.” 

“What time should we head out?”

Simon thinks about the work he has to do and checks the time on his phone, considering, “Maybe eleven? Or noon? I should be at a good stopping point then. Unless they keep sending me shit that they could have answered if they knew how to use a fucking Google search.”

Wille snorts and steps back from the window, raising his mug of coffee to Simon with a grin. “See you on the other side then.”

Almost as soon as he sits down he gets a phone call, and practically as soon as that’s over their boss comes by to run some things over with him before their meeting. He quickly tries to go over the main points for the meeting as he and the others in his team are crossing the room toward the open tables and wide windows on the other side of the office. Simon joins them at the table, glancing over to where he can just see the top of Wille’s head over his monitor from where he’s standing. 

The other man has his head down, seemingly focused on something that Simon can’t see from here but as if he senses that someone is watching him he looks up and meets Simon’s gaze, grinning a bit before going back to his work.

But then he jumps when Maddie pinches him from under the table unseen from under the table and he turns to glare at her as she tries to drink from her coffee and pretend as though she hadn't done a thing. Before he can say anything to her, their department head strides over, to start the meeting and he sees the smirk she’s wearing behind the coffee cup she brings to her lips. 

It’s around half past eleven when he senses someone at his desk and looks up to see Wille leaning against his desk, in his powder blue collared jacket, one hand tapping polished fingers against the surface of his desk and the other twisting one of the longer strands of dirty blonde at the nape of his neck. 

“Are you at a stopping point now?”

Simon raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, “I guess I could be, lunchtime?”

His friend hops off the edge of his desk, “Yep. Let’s go now before someone needs something.”

He looks over the room to see Maddie sitting with her packed lunch (he recognizes the plastic storage box she has her lunch in as Rosh’s)  and nods. Sometimes she joins them for lunch, but most days she likes to stay in the office and scroll social media in peace and quiet during her break, which he can’t fault her for.

“Let me just get my things.” He grabs his bag, double-checking to see if his wallet and phone are there before following Wille to their cloakroom where they both pull on their winter gear.

Once on the street, the air is crisp and each breath he takes is sharp and edged with what feels like icicles. It’s also grey, a miserable excuse for what maybe counts as the sun, hidden behind a cloak of clouds.

“Where are we going?” Simon asks, looking over at Wille in his huge oversized coat acid wash jeans and black doc martins.

“I thought we could go to that place we like on Kungsgatan.”

It immediately comes to mind, 

“Oh, that one is further away.” He mentions offhandedly, following behind him.

“Yeah well,” Wille turns to look at him over his shoulder and smirks, “I thought we could use the extra time to have a proper shit-talking session.”

Simon smiles, feeling warm that the other remembered. It’s a small thing really, but after nearly two years of either keeping things to himself or having to remind Marcus constantly what was going on whenever he had something to tell him it feels nice to know that Wille hears him and cares about these things.

The cafe they go to on Kungsgatan is fairly new. It has a wide open floor plan with sleek modern features, comfortable armchairs, decorated with modern art and plenty of plugs for charging devices. Wille orders a croissant sandwich and a coffee while Simon ends up with a pastry, not exactly something that would be considered “lunch” but Wille doesn’t say anything about it. In the back of his head, he can hear Rosh chiding him, but Rosh drinks salads so what do they know.

“So tell me everything,” Wille says as they slide into their seats at a table facing the wide windows onto the street. Usually, the view is nicer, but there is some construction going on the side of the street closest to them so it’s partially obscured by the barriers and construction equipment. 

“How long do we have.”

“As long as you need.” Wille checks his phone, “As long as it’s not over an hour and a half-ish.”

Simon laughs softly and then leans back to take a sip of the coffee, “He asked me if I wanted to go to a bar and have a few drinks, and I was thinking that it seemed pretty low-key and low-stakes enough right?”

Wille takes a sip of his coffee, sandwich still untouched, “Sounds okay.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. And I thought even…” he pauses for some reason unsure if he should be honest, but then thinking why shouldn’t he, “I thought who knows…maybe the evening would end up back at his or mine.”

“Oh, so you like him?”

“Not really. But like he’s hot and I’m very single and well ... what you said about the whole vitamin D deficiency isn't so off the mark.”

It’s a joke, but his friend doesn’t laugh. Instead, Wille hums thoughtfully, “Okay so then…”

“Turns out he brought me to some trivia night which sure I know people like that sort of thing and he couldn’t have known but….I hate trivia. I hate games like that and especially I hate doing it at a bar—“

“Oh shit” Wille laughs, “Tell me again…I'm getting the feeling you don’t like trivia games or something.”

He gives Wille a glare, but there’s no heat behind it.

“Okay okay go on.”

“So it’s bar trivia and guess who is there. Six of his fucking sports friends who I don’t know…oh and did I tell you the most insane part of this whole story?”

Wille shakes his head, leaning closer hands folded in front of him on the table.

“It was at a fucking sports bar . With six of his straight friends from football and the theme of the trivia night was—-“

“Sports?”

“Bingo.” Simon leans back, eyes wide, gesturing at himself Incredulously, “Look at me. Does it look like I know shit about sports or want to hang out with six football bros in a sports bar?”

“I mean isn’t it kind of rude to assume—“

“Oh hush Wille sometimes stereotypes are right.” He cuts him off with a whine, “I’m a nerd. I know it. You know it. I like music and I play instruments and video games and read comic books. I like binging tv series and playing nerdy board games. Also, I’m gay as fuck. I don’t know how to act around all those dude bros and their weird macho energy, and maybe that’s unfair and judgmental of me but it’s also the macho straight guys who were the ones who made my life a living hell in school so I don’t think it’s that weird that I didn’t feel comfortable there.”

“No. I completely understand.” Wille says, expression serious, “Honestly it’s been so long since I was in that kind of environment that I don’t think I’d be very comfortable either.”

“Yeah? So I’m not overreacting?”

“I don’t think so. But also…why would he take you there on a first date? It seems like it’s not a good place to have a conversation.”

“Exactly!” Simon says, “And he introduced me to these guys and one of them called me Henrik's boyfriend and he didn’t even correct him! Anyway cut to an hour and a half later, me scrolling bored on my phone in the corner while they get progressively drunker on beer, having the time of their lives catching up and answering fucking sports trivia .”

Wille sucks in a breath, expression sympathetic.

“So I just left.”

“Shit.” His friend shakes his head.

“I was on the bus home, almost thirty minutes later when I got a text from Henrik asking where I was. It took him thirty minutes to notice. What the fuck….like I wasn’t invested in him or anything but am I really that uninteresting ? Sometimes I feel like all of the guys who are interested in me literally give zero fucks about me as a person. They just like the way I look and then when they find out about my interests they think I’m weird and try to make me feel bad for those said interests.”

Wille is watching him intently, there are a myriad of unspoken emotions written across his face but Simon is talking too fast to really dissect them. 

“I can't stand dating.” He shakes his head, voice raised in exaggeration “ The whole asking countless meaningless questions. What’s your favourite colour? What’s your five-year plan…what are your turn-ons and turn-offs. Ugh.” 

Wille gives him a sympathetic look, “I mean those questions are designed to help people get to know each other.”

“Yeah but don’t you ever wish you could just skip that whole part?”

“Well. I've only been in two like…actual relationships .” Wille admits, using air quotes when he says the word, “Neither of them ended so well.”

“Oh?”

“My first boyfriend. My first…relationship. Do you remember Alexander? From Hillerska?”

Simon has to think back, wracking his memory until a face starts to come to him. Short, nice features, dark hair. “The guy whose mother was some Chinese business mogul and whose father is like a banking CEO in Norway?”

Wille nods and Simon blinks, “….Wait.” He leans forward eyes widening, “You two?”

There's a fleeting expression that crosses Wille’s lips, a strange twisting smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I had no idea he was queer.” Simon says, surprised, “Or about you two…”

“Well, we didn’t get together until third year so you wouldn’t have. And we were both closeted then so…no one really knew except a few people in our year. Well yeah…that ended badly. And then I dated someone in university, but it was really short-lived and we just really weren’t that compatible.” 

Simon blinks, feeling like there’s definitely a story there, but he doesn’t push as Wille doesn’t seem so keen to talk. “Dating is overrated. As someone who has dated probably too much, I just want to skip the whole dating thing.”

Wille makes a noise, “I mean…technically you can.”

“You mean like….casual hookups?”

Wille raises his coffee cup to his lips, quirking an eyebrow.

“Ayub said the same thing but…I don’t know. It feels weird. I just….I don’t want a one-night stand with some stranger. It seems like a very…personal thing to allow someone who you don't know anything about to do with you.” Wille blinks at him and Simon flushes and he scrambles to explain, “I mean don’t get me wrong I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it and like…I don’t think you need to be in a relationship with someone…or even know them to have sex necessarily, but I feel like for me, personally , I would want to at least know that person, or feel comfortable with them first…”

“That makes sense.”

“Really?” Simon knows Wille has a lot of hookups and anonymous sex, but the man seems to enjoy it and he’s responsible. They’ve talked about this before and Wille is very open about the fact that he gets tested often and takes Emtricitabin/Tenofovir and judging many the way he always seems to have a condom on him seems to take that responsibility seriously. 

“Yeah. I mean…sex is a very personal thing and there isn’t one specific way you should feel about it. It’s up to you.”

For a moment Simon feels a bit jealous of how comfortable and confident Wille seems in his own skin and desires. Simon has never been ashamed of his sexuality, but he had often felt like he wasn’t really interested in the same things as other gay men seem to be, had always felt like he was somewhat of an outsider or like he wasn’t gay in the way people expected him to be. Simon wasn’t really that sexually experimental or adventurous, he didn’t care much for fashion trends, he was never the life of the party and was just generally more comfortable at home on his couch than at the gym or at a club. He’s never really appreciated the boxes people have tried put him in over the years. 

Simon is jealous of the way Wille seems so open to everything and so seemingly experienced whereas Simon has spent the majority of his years in monogamous relationships that always started out exciting and ended up fizzling out toward the end. The “wildest” thing he had done was had a threesome once, back before Marcus had cheated on him. The other man had talked about it so often that when the opportunity came up he had felt too guilty to deny it to him. But it wasn’t something he had enjoyed at all nor something he wanted to do again. Marcus had called him boring when he had told him that.

“I’m open to the idea of casual sex.” He says finally. This is different, he knows that. This is Simon calling the shots and knowing how to speak up for himself better than before, he doesn't think it would be awful if it’s someone he’s comfortable with. Simon watches Wille for a moment, feeling a little braver as he leans closer, reaching out slightly to brush his fingertips against the other’s hand. “But it would have to be with the right person.” Head tilted, he looks down at the table, before looking up through his lashes at Wille, biting his lip and brimming with a nervous, fluttering energy as he holds his gaze. 

The other man’s eyes widen in the intended effect, as what Simon is hinting at sinks in and his conversation with Ayub from the morning comes back to him and looking at him now Simon thinks back to his conversation with Ayub, the doubt in his friend's eyes, the reasons why Simon thinks this arrangement would be good for both of them. So many different things fighting for space in his thoughts.

A tense moment passes between them, Simon searching for something telling in the other's surprised honey-brown gaze. “I mean…it’s just a thought.” He says finally, after the silence starts to become too awkward and he feels like his heart is going to come up through his throat. Simon pulls back, laughing strangely, trying to act as though it was all a joke, something stupid he had just said out of some temporary short circuit of thought when in reality he feels mortified. He hopes he hasn't just fucked up their friendship, hopes that the other will let him down somewhat easily, even though he must seem so pathetic right now. Simon hopes he will give him some dignity and not say something cruel. If he calls him out, if he sees right through him into his vulnerabilities and pities him for acting so fucking desperate and pathetic Simon just knows it will destroy him right here and now. He will never be able to look him in the face again, hell he probably will never be able to face himself in the mirror ever again either.

“Stupid I know, nevermind,” He says, voice shaking, “I’m sorry—”

The words die on his lips as Wille reaches out and grabs his hand back, staring at their hands as though he can’t pull his gaze away. 

Simon can’t breathe, eyes widening as Wille looks up at him, fingers slipping, now merely a ghosting, fleeting touch. “Hey…Simon…”

“Yeah?” He swallows.

Wille looks as though he wants to say something, there suddenly so many things that seem to cross his features but once he seems to finally land on what he wants, once he leans forward and opens his mouth, they are suddenly interrupted by the sound of his phone, which shatters the tension between them and actually makes Simon jump slightly in surprise.

Wille freezes and it would be the perfect scene in some kind of serious drama series if it weren’t for his ringtone. 

push it good

(Ah, push it) push it real good

(Ah, push it) push it good

(Ah, push it) p-push it real good

Simon stares incredulously as Wille’s face begins to turn bright red and the other man practically seems to deflate, collapsing face first onto the table, covering his hair with his long arms and making a long drawn out and mortified-sounding groan. “Oh, my god .”

Ow!

Push it good

Ooh, baby, baby, baby, baby

Ooh, baby, baby, ba-baby, baby—

Wille finally kicks into action, peeling himself off the table as he scrambles for his phone and tries to desperately turn off the ringer, or even the phone itself as it cheerfully plays the sound of 80s synthesizers. Simon can’t help it. He absolutely loses his shit, doubling over in the chair laughing fully aware that other patrons of the cafe are looking over at the noise they are making.

“Wille! Is that your fucking ringtone!?” He squeals, trying to cover the sound he’s just made with his hand with very little success. 

“Oh, my gooood.” Is the only thing the other can seem to get out, and even the barista behind the counter is trying to hide their laughter in their sleeve while the others sit around them, watching in a mixture of both amusement and annoyance at the interruption.

“Salt’N Pepa!?” Simon has to catch himself before he falls off his chair, “Oh baby baby” he sings under his breath, delighted at the very bright colour that has flushed the other’s pale skin. 

“I’m going to fucking kill Nils,” Wille growls out and he's staring at his phone as though he'd like nothing less than to throw the offending object across the room. “That fucking asshole must have changed my ringtone again.”

Finally, Simon takes pity on him and tries to hold back his laughter, a hard task that is made slightly easier when he sees how deeply mortified Wille seems which makes him start to feel bad for him. “It’s okay Wille…I’ve done way worse things I swear. Really that was just…”

“Perfect timing right?” Wille mutters, hiding his face in his hands before taking a deep breath, dropping his arms and leaning back to let out a frustrated sound while eventually straightening his posture to meet his eyes again.

Simon smirks a bit, unable to get the grin off of his lips, shaking his head as Wille starts to laugh as well, softly at first and then more relaxed and at ease as he must have begun to see the surrealist humour in all of this. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and then sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. 

“Okay…why don't you come over to my place this weekend?” Wille meets him with a soft, crooked smile, “We can talk more about this then…would that be okay?” 

Simon finds himself straightening as well and Wille’s smile is gentle and infectious to the point that he finds himself relaxing fully, lips turning upward as he nods. “Okay. I’d like that.”

“Me too.” 

_______

Oddly enough, the week isn’t at all awkward the way that Simon had thought it would be after basically admitting he was interested in casual sex with his friend. Work is work, it goes by with a slow and mindless drudge of constant menial tasks. Wille is out on site with clients quite often, overseeing creative materials and implementation and he always brings back things for Simon and Maddie, pastries, cookies, clementines, and coffees. 

Simon has started following along with Ayub in the evenings to his old studio. It's a small, underground place out in Södermalm and the first night he comes back just to listen in on Ayub's session he is welcomed with a smatter of fanfare from Kwame and Peter, the recording engineer and tech engineer respectively as well as a few runners he recognizes, who do a double take around the corner when they see him and greet him with enthusiasm.

Now that he’s here he doesn’t know why the idea of coming back was so intimidating. Ayub spends an hour or so working on a project with Kwame coming in and out to finetune things, while Simon sits on the sofa in the corner, head bowed into his notebook, writing out scales and humming melodies that have started to bloom in his thoughts as he crosses out and rewrites lyrics.

Theres a song forming in his mind and it feels like the more time goes by the stronger it becomes. Actually, he feels like he can’t stop writing, he's slowly filling the pages of his notebook with songs, with solitary lyrics, phrases that come to mind in his dreams or suddenly when he’s going about his day. Simon can’t quite describe the way it feels so freeing to feel this rush of inspiration once more. 

This particular song that's had him so hung up is soft, more hopeful than the melancholic theme of things he’s written in the past, but it feels like it's coming to life somehow, and the feeling of just being able to create something once more, to reach within himself and meet a well of ideas instead of an unbending wall, that alone could make him cry from relief. 

Sometimes he catches Ayub’s eyes on him, a faint smile on his friend's lips, before the man looks away quickly once he realizes Simon has noticed. It’s just nice to have you back here. I’ve missed this. he says one night when Simon prods him on what he’s thinking about. 

Wille sends him encouraging messages every once in a while, once he finds out what Simon has been doing. Simon thinks that one day he might share the song with him, once it’s finished. Maybe. It feels as though it belongs to the other man in a strange way, not that he would tell his friend that, but Simon remembers the moment it had begun to take form inside of him, that evening, watching him walk away from him at the station, still wrapped up in his sweater.

On Saturday evening, after spending most of the day in the studio he heads home to shower and change before meeting up tonight with Wille. He’s going out all the way to Wille’s place in Kungsängen, which is somehow still part of Stockholm even though it feels like it takes him forever to get there on the train.

Theres nothing in Kungsängen, the square is nothing but a few buildings which are practically deserted on a Saturday with the exception of the grocery store whose sign glows lurid green. There are a few people coming to and from the station, but its quiet and dark save for the streetlamps that illuminate the slushy leftover snow.

Wille’s apartment is cleaner than the last time he was here. The place is never really dirty but he definitely tends to leave things a bit cluttered, in a very similar way he keeps his desk at the office. An endearing, but frustrating personality trait that Simon finds cuter than he probably should. This time, however, things have been put away from the counters and surfaces and there’s a nice smell in the room that his friend tells him is some kind of essential oil when he asks about it. There is even some kind of music playing softly in the background, which is a nice touch. It feels mature somehow. 

Also, he notices when looks over at the small kitchen, that Wille has cooked dinner. Which is surprising considering he thought his specialty was cucumber and cheese sandwiches. However sure enough when he steps into the small apartment from the hallway he’s met with something that smells incredibly appetizing and Wille must see the curious look he casts over to the stove because turns from where he's hung up Simon's coat with a laugh.

“I made pasta. What did you think? I’d invite you over and starve you?” Wille grins, pointing to the stove and Simon looks over to see a covered pan of noodles, shiny with olive oil and dotted with bright red tomatoes and something green that looks like spinach.

“You cleaned up the place and cooked?” He asks teasingly, setting his bag down on the couch before kicking off his shoes at the entrance. 

“Maybe. I was trying to trick you into thinking I’m capable of being a functioning adult.” His friend's voice reaches him from where he's gone into the kitchen, to stir the pan, taking a fork to taste the noodles and making a satisfied sound.

“Well, you almost succeeded. Aren’t you supposed to offer a refreshment to a guest when they first arrive?”

Wille opens the refrigerator door next to the oven and pulls out a chilled bottle of white wine with a smirk, “Refreshment?”

Simon laughs going to where he knows the wineglasses are kept and pulling out one for each of them, “I stand corrected.”

The taller man steps over to pour him a glass of wine before he goes to serve their plates, which they carry as they shuffle over to the couch to eat, foregoing the small table thats pushed against the wall. Simon doesnt think theyve ever used that table once the times he’s been here. 

It feels odd, even though Wille was the one who invited him over, the fact that it feels like they are dancing around the whole pretense of why hes here. What they were going to discuss. Sure maybe it’s not exactly tactful to start fresh out the gate with hey remember I alluded to being interested in casual sex with you? But the expectation is there, and even though the food is actually quite decent, and the conversation comfortable and easy between them, he can’t really keep his mind off of it. Simon keeps trying to decide how to bring it up again, or wondering if Wille will just jump the gun and do it himself or not.

After dinner, Wille puts the dishes in the sink insisting that he will deal with them later and they move outside on the tiny apartment balcony to share a joint. Theres a foldable table with an ashtray and two plastic IKEA chairs squeezed next to each other against the wall that they squash themselves into. 

It’s freezing, even with the scratchy blanket that Wille pulls over them as they sit shoulder to shoulder. Sitting here like this they are backlit by the golden glow of lights from inside the kitchen and Simon cant help sneak glances of Wille’s sideprofile from the corner of his eyes while his friend grabs the lighter off the table and brings the flame up to the joint he’s just rolled.

“What are your plans for Christmas?” Wille asks, offering him the first drag, which Simon takes, inhaling and trying not to cough. They’ve done this a few times, usually at Wille’s place, but it’s not really a habit of Simons.Tonight though, it certainly takes the edge off. 

“Going back to Bjärstad probably. Spend it with my sister and my mamma.” 

He watches as the end of the joint burns red as Wille takes a long drag looking over at him with his soft smile, “Sounds cozy.”

“What about you?” Simon murmurs, hunkering down further in the chair as the chill seeps in even through the thick blanket.

Absently, Wille reaches over with his free hand, rubbing over his arm seemingly in an attempt to warm him up. Simon is viciously aware of where he's touching him and he leans closer, a test to see if he will pull away the way he normally does. Tonight, however, he stays in place, even leans in so that they are pressed close, one arm over his shoulder.

“I don't usually do much for Christmas.” Wille says with a shrug, “Felice and Nils and I usually have a little thing before they go off to do their obligatory family functions and then I stay here, eat a ham and mustard sandwich and watch Kalle Anka.”

Simon turns, incredulous, staring at him, “Wille..seriously?”

His friend blinks, joint propped between two fingers, “Well I mean. Everyone is usually busy on Christmas with their families and I’m not exactly welcome at mine.”

Simon frowns, imagining him, alone in this empty place without friends, without family around to make it less quiet. He doesn’t know what exactly it was that happened between Wille and his family, the other hasn’t told him, but he hates it. Hates the idea of him being lonely during the darkest time of the year. 

“What exactly happened between you and them?” He asks finally after fighting with himself over whether he should. Simon feels like they've grown close enough to be able to talk to each other about these things. He had told Wille about his father and his fears. Wille had told him a few things about the state of the relationship between him and his brother, but this is still a missing piece of the puzzle.

The man takes another drag and then passes him the joint, “They kicked me out when they found out I was with Alexander. My mother thought I’d change my mind and come back, but I had to get out of that fucking house. It was killing me.” He says in an alarmingly matter-of-fact way that sounds so detached from what he’s actually saying. “And anyway after that, she decided to disown me.”

“Both of your parents just…like that?”

Wille shrugs, “I mean it was my mother's decision. She’s the head of the family. No one else really gets a say.” 

Simon stares at him, “What…what did you do? How did you…” he looks into the apartment and thinks about how independent and capable Wille is at his job and at this whole adult thing that Simon is still trying to navigate. 

“Nils was living on his own in the city, going to university, one night he ran into me on the street outside a gay club. I didn’t have a place to stay then so sometimes I would hook up with people just so I wouldn't have to sleep outside—”

His stomach turns sour at the implication and he turns fully to face the other man, eyes wide and concerned,  “What? What about Alexander?”

His friend shrugs, “Alexander's parents basically shipped him off to some Ivy League school in the U.S. and he blocked my number everywhere. On social media too.I tried to talk to him before he left, but he didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“ Wille .” Simon can’t help how upset his voice sounds. When the other had said his relationship had ended badly, he hadn’t assumed something like this.

“It’s fine Simon.” Wille smiles thinly and slips his arm into his, “Like I said. I ran into Nils and he took me home, let me crash there, helped me get some things and even helped me get a job at a cafe down the street. You should have seen me. I didn't know how to do anything, use a cash register or take stock…hell, I even had to be shown how to clean properly because I had never really had to do it.”

“So thats why you two are so close then…and Felice?”

“After a difficult period where I was very depressed you know…things started to turn around and I managed to get into the art school I wanted to go to. The we started to live together. Her parents were paying her rent and she very kindly let me stay there for free so I could save up money. I had like three jobs at one point at the same time I was studying. Nils and Felice helped me out a lot. I owe them so much.”

“Hell.” The words are spoken low and disbelieving, “I had no idea about all of that…I’m so sorry Wille.” Simon whispers feeling the corners of his eyes sting either from the cold or from the sick emotion that's twisting in his chest.

“I'm good Simon. Really.” Wille squeezes his arm and Simon looks up to meet his crooked smile, “It’s actually kind of what I needed. If that hadn’t happened, maybe I’d be in a very different life, maybe I’d be some wealthy lawyer with a penthouse apartment somewhere, but I know I’d be incredibly unhappy. To be honest I don’t even know if I’d still be here.”

Simon has no words. His head hurts just thinking about all of it. 

He himself had gone through so much in his homelife, but even though they hadn’t always done the right things, he had had both his mother and his sister by his side through it. They had gone through it together as a family and had come out the other end scarred and rough around the edges, but together. 

He’s sure Wille doesn’t want to hear another I’m sorry from him, so instead he just presses close and squeezes the other man’s forearm in the best form of support he can give him right now.

“But we didn’t come here tonight to talk about shitty family trauma did we?” Wille murmurs after a moment, a tease in his voice and Simon is on alert again, for another reason, looking up at him.

So this was it? They were going to talk about it now? He had given up the idea of breaching the topic, not wanting to seem insensitive or for it to feel awkward after their candid conversation about the past, but it seems that Wille still very much wants to talk about it. At least if the way he’s watching Simon is any indication.

“No, not really.” He agrees slowly, “Listen Wille...do you ever think about that night? At the event? When we….”

Wille’s gaze is intense and unwavering, and Simon hears his breath stutter slightly, noticing the shift in his posture as he straightens a bit, gaze sharpening on Simon’s own features.

“Do you?”

Simon reaches out to take the joint from Wille’s loose fingers before looking up at him through his eyelashes. “Yeah. I do.”

“I do too.” The confession is spoken in a low voice, searching and careful.

Simon turns so that he’s facing him, the other follows him with his eyes and the intensity makes his stomach curl with anticipation. “Can I….admit something? And if you don’t agree we don’t have to ever talk about it again, okay?”

Wille takes the joint from him and when he lifts it to his lips, the end burns red before he leans forward a bit, eyes intense in the lighting and the flush from the cold on the tip of his nose. “You can tell me.”

“I told you I’m not ready to date. And that’s still true….but I think I’d like…to do those things with you again. And if you want to as well….if you’d want something like that too…we could do that. I’d want to do that.”

And there it is. The truth is out in the open for Wille to do with what he will. He just hopes that if he has been reading this all wrong, that Wille will be easy on him.

“As friends?”

“Yeah. As Friends. Just having fun….”

His friend is quiet for a long moment, expression unreadable and suddenly Simon feels panic burn through him. Fuck hes read this all wrong. Fuck Wille must think he’s so pathetic. This is quickly shaping up to be the most embarrassing thing he’s ever done. Is it possible to take it back? Could it be possible to make him forget somehow?

“Oh shit…I’m sorry…that’s weird, right? Um…yeah forget I said anything…” he starts to get up, shrugging the blanket off of his shoulders and determinedly looking away shame flooding him. Fucking hell this was a bad idea.

He pulls away but then Wille reaches out to stop him.

“Why me?” He asks and at first, Simon doesn’t really understand the question and it must show because Wille continues, “I mean, theres got to be plenty of people who you could chose from. So why me?”

Simon feels incredulous, surprised that he thinks he has that many options and surprised that he doesn’t see why Simon would ask him. But then as he’s trying to find the answer, he realizes he’s not actually sure. He’s not sure what it is that pulls him to Wille, or why they can talk so easily together, or why he never seems to grow tired of him. All he keeps coming back to is something that feels important, and different than his relationships with other people in his life.

“I trust you.” Simon says the truth, speaking it aloud simply and honestly, “You’re the only person I feel safe enough to even ask something like this. But it’s stupid…just forget I—-“

“Come here,” Wille says, cutting him off and taking a drag of the joint. Simon feels a full-body shiver go through him when the other leans forward, watching him meaningfully, Simon opens his lips and Wille leans in further the smoke curling between their lips as he breathes it in

“You want me?” Wille asks and Simon cant fucking breathe.

“Yeah.” He whispers, swallowing tightly and looking up at his features in the dark. Wille takes his jaw in his hand, tilting his face up. His pupils are large and dark and dilated from the low light and the weed they’ve been sharing. 

Wille leans in, their lips brushing, but when Simon moves to close the distance the other pulls back, a grin tugging at his lips as he laughs softly. 

“Wille…” he hears himself whine, embarrassing really. “What—“

“I want you too Simon. I trust you too.”

He can hear the blood rushing in his head, feel the manic race of his heartbeat as Wille watches his lips, eyes flickering up from his mouth to his eyes, hungry and dark. 

Simon wants him so fucking bad. Wants this. But he has to make sure he understands what this is. “And…it’s okay with you? If we don’t like…put a label on this. Right? That we—-“

“Just have fun?” The other supplies, cupping his chin and bringing a shaking gasp out of him when he smoothed his thumb over Simon’s bottom lip. “Yeah. We can do that. Just promise me one thing.”

“Wha…what?”

“Be honest with me. And I’ll be honest with you.” Wille’s gaze is genuine, beyond the haze of desire and want there’s sincerity. “If things ever change, for good or bad. If you start feeling like it’s too much. Tell me. And I promise I’ll tell you too.”

His mind is addled by the heat of this craving and he isn’t one hundred percent clear on what that actually means but it sounds right, sounds reasonable and mature and whatever and Wille is touching him so it’s hard to think about much else anyway. 

“Yeah…” he wraps his fingers around the other man’s wrist and leans his forehead against his. The weed has hit him with a low, mellow floating feeling, but his mind is very much present. “We have to just communicate with each other.”

“Exactly.” 

“Wille.”

“Hmm?”

“If we are going to be honest and communicative…”

Wille leans close, sliding his hand on the back of Simon’s neck and sending a shiver through him, “Mmm?” the sound is curious as the other mans eyes look him over, coming back to hold his gaze. 

“Then I really want you to fuck me.” He leans in as well, murmuring the words against the other man’s lips and feeling the satisfaction of the way he hears his breath catch. “ Honestly .”

Wille laughs then, quiet and strained, but Simon can feel his grin against his lips, which makes him smile as well and it’s such a different feeling, there’s a lightness that he feels even when he’s still very much horny for this to happen, its still comfortable enough to laugh at each other. It doesn’t feel so serious. 

And then Wille puts his hands on his hips, pulling him closer by the small of his back and sliding an arm around his waist as he finally– finally kisses him, deep and without restraint. And this time there are no crowds of partygoers watching them and no reason to stay quiet from anyone who might walk in on them. They are alone, and here they can do anything they can imagine. 

Wille kisses him and pulls him into the lines of his body and Simon isn’t laughing anymore. He wants until the ache goes so deep inside of him that it feels unending and the hungry desperate noise that Wille makes when he runs his fingers through his messy hair and tightens the strands into his fist sends shocks of electricity into his very core.

Simon has moved to straddle the other in the chair which results in the blanket slipping from their shoulders and onto the ground and it’s fucking freezing , but Wille is like a beacon of heat, pure light and warmth and he doesn’t want to lose contact, can’t think about the idea of pulling away from this magnet of desire beneath him.

They kiss like it’s all they know like it’s a thing designed specifically for them and no one else. Simon cradles his jaw with splayed, desperate fingers and every time they surge to meet one another he feels himself longing to bring him closer and closer until he’s become a part of Simon and can never leave again.

But the cold begins to creep its way into their limbs and their lips become icy and suddenly Wille pulls back, breathing hard, his breath curling away from him in soft clouds of condensation. Simon almost curses him out because what could be more important than this , but the complaint dies in his throat as he really focuses on the other’s expression. Wille’s dark eyes are taking in Simon’s features in the wintery night hair as he wets his lips, a hand coming up to brush an out-of-place curl that falls over his eyes.  

“Simon look,” Wille whispers and so Simon does, turning toward the railing of the balcony and feeling a sudden sense of childlike wonder at the sight, almost as though he’s seeing it, for the first time, with the same enthusiasm as Wille himself.

“It’s snowing,” the other says in a hushed tone.

They stay like that for a brief moment, watching the world like a dark canvas of flecks of painted white coming into focus and he’s about to make a joke when suddenly he’s lifted up and carried into the apartment with a short gasp as Wille carries him over to the couch and presses him into the corner, lips on his neck with a new fervour that ignites inside of him, pulling a noise from his throat as he feels Wille’s hand rubbing over the hardness beneath the jeans he’s wearing.

“Take these off,” Wille murmurs into his lips and Simon can only nod because why in the world do clothes exist? They are nothing but nuisances making it difficult to feel skin on skin. 

“You’re bossy.” He’s already got them halfway off but Wille is kissing his lips again, stealing the breath from him and his hands are everywhere, rough and then gentle and then firm and it’s driving Simon insane. 

“I can be bossy. If you like that.” He growls low into Simon’s ear and he feels the flush rise over his cheeks.

“Fuck Wille….” 

“Or maybe you want to boss me around?” The other man whispers and Simon gasps when he feels his hands slip up his shirt, thumb rubbing circles around one of his nipples.

Reality is slipping a bit as he can barely focus and he feels the built-up frustration from these long months building, begging for a release. This new part of Wille’s personality, which before he had only had a glimpse showing itself in full force. 

“Use me, Simon. Tell me what to do and what you want from me.”

He leans his head back, palm covering his lips as Wilhelm's lips are relentless against his neck and his hand ghosts around the area where his erection is at full attention. It’s driving him insane because he’s not touching him, it’s so light, teasing, cruel even.

“Oh hell, fuck… dammit …”

“I need you to be specific. Tell me. Exactly what you want.”

Simon feels a bit at a loss with this sense of control he’s been given. He’s usually following along someone else’s lead in these situations so he’s not exactly sure what to tell him to do. It’s a strange position to be in but when he finds Wille’s gaze, intense and obediently waiting for him he goes with his instincts and reaches for him, fingers tightening in his hair, crashing their lips together once more, a tangle of lips and teeth and tongue.

“I want you to bring lube and condoms and then I want you to touch me.” He says finally, feeling a surge of confidence, encouraged by the way Wille is poised above him, so attentive and focused on him, eyes never leaving his. 

Wille swallows and nods obediently, slipping off the couch to retrieve them from the next room. When he’s gone Simon takes a moment to catch his breath, running a hand over his face and wrestling out of the sweatshirt he was wearing outside. 

His throat goes dry when Wille returns with the things, climbing back into position over him on the couch. From where Simon is settled into the corner, he feels surrounded, but for some reason, the idea of knowing there is so little space between them, that there's nowhere for him to go, the thought goes right to his cock. 

Wille leans down and kisses him again, hard and Simon can feel him shuffle around with the bottle, hearing the cap open and the sound of it the gel squeezing out into the other’s hand.

Wille mouths at his jawline, breath coming shaky as he wraps his large hand around him, Simon’s body arches into the touch a tight sound escaping his lips as he gasps into the room. Somewhere on the edges of his senses, he realizes that the music is still playing. 

Wille works his cock and when Simon shifts, he can feel the other, hard against his leg, still dressed. “Wait…” Simon says quickly and the other immediately stops waiting for some kind of instruction.

“Take them off. Your clothes.” He says, propped up against the cushions, feeling a sense of power knowing that in this state Wille would probably do absolutely anything he asked.

Simon can’t look away when Wille follows his order, lifting the shirt over his head and going for the button of his acid-wash jeans. Once he’s done he tosses his clothes to the side, and Simon is finally faced with the man’s naked body for the first time. He’s so beautiful it hurts, all wirey muscle and lean lines. There’s a slimness to him, but there’s strength there too and fuck his cock is….

“Holy shit Wille you’re….” Heat curls in the base of his stomach as his throat feels dry.

There's no getting around it. He puts Simon’s own very average-sized dick to shame and Simon has never been so hung up on size but for some reason, he hadn’t expected it, hadn’t really even thought about it before, “Well that's a surprise…” He murmurs, unable to tear his eyes away.

Wille watches him and runs a hand over his cheek, gaze intense, he must have misread Simon’s hesitance because he says next, “There’s no expectation that we have to do anything specific you know. We can just use our hands or our mouths.”

Simon however, still a little dazed, swallows dryly and looks up at him and shakes his head empathically. There's no way in hell he’s letting this pass him by, “No…fuck…I want you. I need you to fuck me…I don’t want to wait any longer.”

He must have heard the undercurrent of desperation in Simon’s voice because Simon sees his expression change, almost swears he sees it in his body language.

“How long have you been thinking about me fucking you?” The asshole actually smirks.

“How long have you thought about it?” Simon fires back, the expression lighting a spark of indignation inside of him. He feels hot all over

“Thought about me fucking you? Or you fucking me?” The words are said whispered into his ear and Simon groans again. 

The hand wraps back around him, stroking him in a tight rhythm that makes him feel insane. 

“Either.” He gasps, “Both. You tell me first and then I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls Wille down by his hair, hips rocking into the touch.

“Since the first day I saw you in the office.” Wille murmurs into his lips, “In that oversized shirt. When you reached up to get something on the shelf, I could see the little sliver of skin on your waist and I thought about how it would feel to touch you there.”

It makes him hum with pleasure, knowing that his desire was reciprocated and that Wille’s been watching him all this time the same way he had been watching Wille. It's addictive, the feeling of being desired. It makes him wonder about that night at the event and if that had been something he had thought about doing often.

“Do you ever think about that night? When you touch yourself or when you’re with other people?” He finds himself asking in a strained voice as Wille continues, too curious not to ask. Wille’s hand pauses for a moment, bringing a quiet whine from Simon at the loss of friction. At the sound the other looks down at him apologetically and continues with his ministrations, pulling a moan from Simon’s lips. 

“I thought you were going to give me a reward.” Wille leans close, a smirk on his lips as he murmurs in his ear. 

“Answer me first.” Simon challenges, watching the way Wille shifts a bit to look down at him with honey-amber eyes full of endeared affection. 

“Of course I do.” He says without breaking eye contact. “You were so hot. All of the noises you made, the way you tasted…”

He’s going to die, he’s going to come here and now before anything even happens. He pushes at Wille’s hand and the other immediately lets go, waiting for him. He hates the loss of contact but he just knows that he needs a break otherwise this night will end up being much shorter than either of them want. The intensity of Wille’s gaze on him, the way he talks coupled with the way he’s letting Simon order him around is really fucking doing something for him.

Simon reaches for the lube squeezing some of the slick substance onto his fingers and leans back against the couch cushions. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hopes that he won’t get lube on the couch, but he’s too turned on to do anything about it and really it’s up to Wille to tell him if that's a dealbreaker, but judging by how fucking turned on the other looks Simon doesn’t think it matters right now. Wille is propped on his knees before him watching and his gaze feels heavy, burning through all of his vulnerabilities right now to the core of him. 

Simon adjusts his position and reaches down, touching himself, massaging the outside of his body while flicking his eyes up to watch Wille’s reaction. The other man’s breath catches and he swallows, licking his lips to keep them from drying. Wille reaches for him but Simon swats his hand away.

“No touching. Just watch.” He says and Wille rests back on his heels, chest rising quicker than before.

“Not so talkative anymore are you?” He smirks as he uses his fingers to stretch himself, more leisurely than he normally would, “Just sit there and wait. It’ll be worth it.”

Wille groans and looks at the expression on his face, “You’re really fucking cruel you know that.” He bites out and Simon laughs.

He goes quiet as Wille strokes his thighs with a soft touch, but obediently stays away from his hands as he works himself open. He hasn’t done this in a while, but he had kind of hoped this would happen tonight so he’d come prepared. Usually, Simon doesn’t prefer doing this himself but it’s worth the slightly awkward position when he sees how it’s affecting his friend.

He knocks his knee against him when the other wraps his own hand around himself, “I said look not touch. That goes for you too.”

Wille closes his eyes tightly, nodding, “I give you a little taste of power and this is what you do huh?” 

“Open your eyes, don’t look away from me.” He commands and the other immediately does, body alert and tense, immediately going silent and watching him in a way that looks hungry , he can’t deny the sense of control it gives him is intoxicating and he decides to tell him as much, “It’s really doing something for me. Getting you all worked up like this.” He teases, but it’s the truth and at this point, he doesn’t want to wait any longer so he pulls back and takes a shuddering breath before directing Wille to grab a condom from beside him.

The other man makes quick work of getting ready and looks to Simon who beckons him closer, they shift, finding a good position with Simon pressed into the back and Wille in front of him. Simon helps him find the right angle and then he feels him against the ring of muscle, feels him push past and he throws his head back against the cushions, his arm going back to steady himself and grab at the frame as he feels him slowly push deep into him. He’s taken his time preparing himself but fuck this is a lot. 

“Talk to me, Simon.” The other man says in a low voice, pausing his hips, “Are you—-“

“I’m okay.” He says quickly, finding the others' gaze, the concern he can see there, “It’s just been a while…you’re good…” Wille shifts his hips as he adjusts and the sensation has him biting back a sound on his lips. 

“It’s okay.” Simon repeats, relaxing, “You’re just kind of…bigger than my ex.” He laughs at the surreal feeling of the situation which seems to also release some of the tension in Wille’s shoulders.

“I can’t do much about that, sorry.” He laughs as well the sound strained.

“It feels good, don’t worry... It’s just a learning curve…you should come inside…all the…” At his words, Wille pushes his hips forward and then Simon can’t finish his thought as he is completely inside of him, stretching him, making it impossible to feel anything but him. He lets his head drop back into the couch cushion and runs a hand through his own hair, eyes closing tightly as he hissed sharply at the sensation.

“Tell me what to do,” Wille says in a low voice, that obedient tone going straight to his own cock which is flagging slightly. 

“I've thought about this so much .” Simon admits, voice tapering out into a whine, he's enjoyed having control, but now he just wants to let go, he just wants to feel, “I just want you…take me…make me feel..everything. I don’t want to be in control anymore just…have me.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Wille says and they both let out low, strained groans as he starts to move, fucking Simon into the back of the couch, slowly at first, the tight friction between them absolutely maddening. 

They stop talking after that and Simon forgets the rest of the world exists, focusing only on the sensations of everything, the feeling of the other man inside of him, the way his stomach is coiling, a slow and steady build toward bliss.

It sounds cliche and stupid but he genuinely can’t tell where his body ends and where Wille begins, there’s electricity dancing under his skin and as time passes it's just so maddening, like a will of the wisp that’s always a few steps out of his reach. 

Wille pulls back and they shift. Simon, propping himself up on his knees, arms on the back of the couch for support as the other man takes him from behind. Simon lets out a tight hiss of breath as his cock rams back inside, leaning down to bite his forearm as Wille reaches around to stroke him, leaning over his shoulder to murmur in his ear.

“Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”

From there it becomes harder to know what’s happening, it’s good, but after a while the angle is too frustrating, not quite right so they shift again, Wille fucking him over the armrest and it’s so good. It’s so much better than anything he remembers. His whole body feels like it’s on fire like it’s a string tensed and poised to snap. And he can’t stop the noises he’s making, it feels almost animalistic, something boiled down to nature and instinct and he could make more metaphors for how good he’s being fucked but he can’t think. 

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been at it but when he does finally come, on his back against the couch in a similar place to where they started, his vision explodes in white and he feels like he’s a spectator in his body, like he’s left earth and now exists on some spectral plane.

Ayub would fucking humiliate him for that metaphor but hell he’s just fucking gone. 

Finally, Wille comes, with a groan and a bruising grip on his hips as he collapses next to him on the couch, both of them panting and sweaty. Simon runs a hand through his hair, taking a shuddering breath and closing his eyes as he slowly comes back into his body. “What the fuck.” He mutters, shaking his head. It’s like he’s been let into some secret club like he finally understands why sex is one of the most highly sought-after experiences. He thought he knew what good sex could be like but he’s realizing that he really had no idea before today. Or maybe he’s just too blissed out to think straight.  

“You okay?” Wille sounds just as ruined as Simon feels, laying beside him and Simon turns, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“Uh yeah. I would say so. I’m more than okay. That was…” he feels something hot go through him as the other man’s lips quirk upwards and he cuts his words off. He looks like his ego is way too inflated. “Oh fuck you, Wille.”

They stare, the unspoken truth passing between them. And Simon can practically hear him say it out loud. We kind of just did.

Staring at each other they both start to laugh and he feels so good, warm and floating after a mind-melting orgasm and the light feeling that remains in the air between them. 

He reaches out and pushes him on the shoulder, shaking his head with a smile. “Stupid.”

The other man grins, crossing his arms behind his head and stretching out. “That was really memorable.”

“Yeah, I would say…” 

As good as he feels and as little as he wants to move right now, his bones feeling like absolute jelly, he definitely is starting to feel gross, covered in rapidly cooling sweat and other liquids here on Wille’s couch.

“We should clean up….” He murmurs and Wille shifts getting up and offering a hand to him from above.

“Let’s take a shower then.”

When Simon pulls himself up using Wille’s hand he sees that the other is still hard and it makes something coil tightly in his stomach, surprising even himself when he realizes he probably could go again. 

“You’re…” he murmurs when he’s on his feet, and it takes an enormous amount of willpower to drag his gaze back up to Wille’s face.

The man shrugs, glancing at him, “What can I say…that was…good for me too.”

Simon swallows, following him into the bathroom and the shower, pressing into him when the other pulls him close and kisses him under the stream of the showerhead. 

Said shower quickly devolves into Wille fucking him up against the shower glass. It’s a strenuous position but it's quick and dirty and when he looks over and sees their reflection, somewhat obscured by steam in the bathroom mirror. It feels absolutely filthy, the way they are pressed against the glass, the way the noises they make echo in the bathroom and how Simon’s arm reaches back to curl around the back of Wille’s neck. When their eyes meet in the mirror and Wille leans over to kiss the curve of his neck, eyes pinning him almost like a challenge he falls quickly over the edge.

Afterwards, they actually manage to clean up for real this time, and Simon borrows a T-shirt and long flannel pants to sleep in before Simon collapses on the couch (which seems clean enough after that) in front of the TV to continue to watch the show they had started watching together last week. 

Wille comes from the kitchen, throwing a bag of chips at him before they curl up, sated and sleepy as the TV plays. At some point, Simon must have fallen asleep because he wakes suddenly, to the feeling of Wille gently shaking his shoulder. 

“Oh shit what time is it?” He mutters, sitting up and running fingers through damp messy curls. For a second he forgets what they had done, but it comes back to him quickly, in graphic detail that has him flushing with heat on the back of his neck.

“Almost midnight,” Wille murmurs. “You want to take the bed? I can sleep here.”

“No. We can share. We’ve done it before.” He yawns, not thinking much of it but noticing the way Wille seems to hesitate makes him take note. The thought makes him laugh softly, “You were literally inside of me an hour ago Wille I think we can manage to share a bed.”

They’ve slept together, figuratively and literally at this point so he’s not sure what the hang-up would be. 

“Yeah true.” Wille laughs a bit, “I guess there are many secrets left.”

“Hmm…maybe.” Simon turns to grin sharply up at where he’s propped up on the couch. “But There are still a lot of things we haven’t tried.”

Wille smirks at him and fucking winks which gets him a face full of pillow. As he’s spluttering and in shock, Simon pulls himself up and grabs his wrist as they wrestle with one another. Wille loses his balance as Simon finds himself straddling him, wrestling each other.

Wille laughs wickedly, “Oh wow it’s like being blown around in a light breeze.”

“You’re the worst!” Simon cackles trying to push his arms down as valiantly as he can but failing as Wille locks his elbows making it an impossible task. Suddenly Wille lets go and he drops onto his chest.

“Ow, you’re so boney what the hell,” Simon complains having struck his jaw against his shoulder bone.

“That hurt me too!” The man complains and Simon rolls his eyes looking down at the face he’s making. “You have a very sharp jawline.”

“I don’t feel bad for you. You should have known better than to drop me.”

“Face it you liked the struggle.”

Simon sneaks a hand around, grabbing him by his side to tickle him and Wille captures his wrists again, squeezing and giving him a look that Simon almost thinks is serious if it weren’t for the wavering laughter in his voice.

Arms pinned, Simon curses unable to control his laughter. “Oh, you think you’ve won huh.”

“I don’t think. I know.” Wille smirks, “Without your hands you’re powerless .”

The words spark something in him, something challenging and devious and he makes a thoughtful noise, “Hmm….am I though?” Simon watches the man's expression shift from confused to slightly stunned when he rocks his hips into his, rolling against him, the only thing separating them a thin piece of fabric. 

“Hell Simon….” Wille bites his lip, “Again?”

He feels like a teenager, all endless stamina and out-of-control hormones but it’s too good to pass up, “If you want…” he murmurs and Wille nods breathlessly before Simon pulls down his pyjamas and returns the favour from that night so long ago.

His cock is large and heavy in his mouth and Wille drops the hands -around his wrists, tangling a hand into his hair and letting out a strained sound that vibrates all the way through him. 

It doesn’t take long to bring him to climax and Simon swallows, pulling back to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand as Wille reaches for him.

“It’s okay.” He says honestly, “I’m a little over-sensitive right now. But maybe you can surprise me in the morning.”

The man beneath him looks spent, flushed and dazed and he can’t help but laugh softly, despite the reasons, it’s soft and endearing in a way. Simon just wants to ruffle his hair and squeeze his cheeks. 

“Oh god don’t laugh at me…” Wille groans and Simon shakes his head with an empathetic smile. 

“No, it’s just….I was thinking about….how …in the end I won after all.”

Wille looks up at him, rolling his eyes and pushing him off with a shriek, “Don’t worry Eriksson, I’ll get you back. You’ll be begging me.”

“Well I would hope so—” Simon cackles, making a sharp noise as the other practically picks him up and takes him to his bedroom.

Maybe he could let Wille win this one. At least once.

______________

They had had a lazy morning, Wille had definitely delivered on his promise to pay him back for his cocky attitude the night before and afterward, they had eaten breakfast together on the couch before playing a game on the ps5 that Wille had downloaded at his recommendation.

Around noon Simon decides that he should probably head back if he wants to get anything done this weekend. To which Wille had made a lewd joke about how busy he’d been already that had got him laughing as he had gotten wrapped up in his coat and scarf.

As he’s pulling his boots on next Wilhelm comes to meet him at the door. 

“I’m glad you came.” He says and Simon rolls his eyes.

“What…oh” Wille pushes at him, “I didn’t mean that. Although it works too.” 

They grin, and Simon runs a hand through his curls before he pulls on his beanie in a quick movement. “Well, I can't complain.”

Wille snorts and then pulls him in for a hug. For a moment Simon wonders if he’s going to kiss him, but he doesn’t.  Of course, he doesn’t. That’s not something friends do, and they might have kissed last night, but it was separate, a part of everything else and not their normal after all. 

Still, the hug lingers a little longer than he expected and when they pull back Simon looks over his friend's smiling face. He takes a breath and then smiles a bit, “Thanks a lot, Wille. For everything.”

“Of course. Thank you as well.”

He takes another look around the apartment, Wille hadn’t challenged him, but Simon doesn’t like knowing he’s alone here even though this is literally where he lives and where he lived far before they had become friends.

“Hey Wille…would you want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year?” He asks suddenly and the others' eyes widen. The holiday is just around the corner and everyone in the office is talking about their plans and now knowing that Wille usually just spends it alone here simply won’t do. Not now that they are friends. “My mother is from Venezuela so we do things a little differently, but I’m sure she’d love to have you come. She’s always telling me to bring friends. Ayub might drop by too.”

Wille seems surprised, a bit stunned even but Simon keeps talking, “I think it would be fun. Mamma already knows you since you and Sara graduated together. I'm sure she’d love to see you again. And we have a pull-out couch. I’d let you sleep in my room but my bed is kind of small and you have freakishly long limbs so I don’t know if you’d be comfortable but—-“

“Okay.”

He pauses mid-sentence, “Oh. Really?”

A smile crosses the other's lips, it’s soft and maybe even a little shy when he nods, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, “Yeah. I’d like that actually….thank you Simon.”

“Perfect.” Simon can’t keep the smile off of his lips and he leans forward to hug him once more before pulling back and opening the door. “Then I’ll let her know. I’m going down there next week so…we can talk more about it later this week okay?”

“That sounds good.” Wille crosses his arms as the cold comes in from the doorway, “Have a good Sunday Simon,”

“You too Wille.”

The last thing he sees before he closes the door is Wille in his oversized pyjamas, with his messy bed head, arms crossed over his torso, watching him with bright amber eyes and a crooked smile. 

______________

When he gets back to his place an hour or so later he runs into Ayub who is just in his way out the door, headed to the studio.

When Ayub sees him he smirks, looking  him over with a knowing gaze, “Well you look like you’re in a good mood.”

Simon leans against the wall and grins, a goofy-sounding sigh leaving his lips, “ Four times Ayub.” he says meaningfully, meeting the other’s gaze.

His friend's eyes widen in disbelief, “Hell four ?”

Simon nods, a long languid smile crossing over his lips, “You heard me. I feel like I just learned some great secret to the universe.”

“Damn that good huh?” Ayub whistles low.

“Mmm.” Simon practically floats over to the fridge and opens it to get out the carton of orange juice as Ayub hands him a glass.

“And you talked about it? Properly? What you guys both want?”

“Of course.” He says sipping at the juice and throwing a look back at his friend, “We’re on the same page.”

“That’s important.” 

“I know.” Simon sets his glass down on the counter, “You’re headed to the studio now?” He asks for confirmation to which Ayub nods.

“Mind if I follow along? You think I might be able to record that thing I’ve been working on if there are any open slots?”

He feels full of energy and inspiration and he just needs to do something with all of this, he feels like he could burst from it all.

“I think they would make time for you.” Ayub says checking his watch, “But hurry up I’m leaving in five.”

Simon smiles at him, downing the rest of the liquid in the glass before setting in the sink to be washed later. It only takes him a few minutes to freshen up and then they are out the door.

He’s not sure when it happened, but the sun sparkling against the fresh snow looks more beautiful than it ever has to him before. 

Maybe he could learn to love snow after all. 

Chapter Text

“You good over here Wille?” 

He looks up as Maddie steps over to his desk. She’s already zipped herself up in her aggressively rainbow puffer jacket and she’s got her hat nestled tightly over her hair and ears. Wille spots the bags in her hands and looks up giving her a long-suffering smile, “I still got a lot of work…the client asked for some last-minute changes to the design to be delivered today.” 

Maddie rolls her eyes, “That’s so annoying.”

“Yeah well, they are paying the big money so I would rather just get it done today and be able to go on vacation without leaving loose ends and not have to worry about it anymore.”

“By yourself?” A pout sits on her lips as she looks him over, “That’s kind of depressing. You don’t need anything?”

“I sent the others home. I got it. It shouldn’t take me more than an hour or so. You go. Have a good Christmas. What are your plans?”

“Flying out to New York tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn. Rosh is getting everything ready at home so that we can leave first thing when we wake up.”

“You’re taking Rosh? Is this their first time meeting your family?” He grins, leaning back in the chair and swivelling around to face her.

Eyes wide in an exaggerated expression of stress, Maddie nods, “Yeeep. Obviously, you can see how cool, calm and collected I am right now.”

“Zen.” Wille smirks.

“So fucking Zen.”

“It’ll go great Rosh is awesome. Your family will love them.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about them loving Rosh or not. Rosh is just a perfect, sweet, little cardamom bun—“

“Cardamom bun? isn’t the expression a perfect little cinnamon roll ?”

“Cinnamon rolls are overrated–”

Wille stares are her, leaning back to grasp at his chest in fake shock, “Maddie how could you?” He leans forward and drops his voice to a whisper as though he has something sensitive to share, “You know I'm Swedish right? That is pure blasphemy”

The woman shrugs nonchalantly, looking at her glittery manicure, “Sorry cardamom buns are just better.” 

“Tell that to the millions of people who celebrate National Cinnamon Bun Day Maddie. We don’t have a National Cardamom Bun Day do we now?”

She gives him a bored look, “American cinnamon rolls are better.”

“With the white gooey shit all over them? It looks like someone ji —”

She holds up a hand with a disgusted grimace, “Ah. Don’t. I know what you're going to say, Rosh said the same thing. You two aren't going to convince me.” 

“You Americans just have no taste.” He sighs, teasing her with a grin.

“What I’m really worried about is them surviving the craziness that is my family .” Twirling her braid Maddie puts another hand on her hip and makes a face, “Last year Grams got lost and we ended up having to go all the way to Hoboken to find her. Apparently, she just decided to go on a trip to see some celebrity baker she watches on TV who she actually believed was writing her emails. Turns out she was actually being scammed by someone on the other side of the globe the whole time. She was sending them all sorts of stuff when all they wanted was money…Oh Grandma..” She raises her eyes to the ceiling and sighs, “All those nudes….”

“Oh.” Wille blinks as she shakes her head again in disbelief. He can’t say he has understood a single word of what has been said except for the fact that Maddie’s grandma apparently had been sending nudes to a scammer, “Well at least it won't be a dull trip?”

“Yeah. The McCoys are a real vibe. What are your plans though?”

“Oh.” His gaze shifts over beyond him to where Simon is still working at his desk, the pale blue light from the monitor reflected against his face. “Actually…I’m going to spend Christmas with Simon and his family.”

Maddie makes a sound and when he looks back at her she’s giving him a very interested look, a slight smirk on her lips, “With Simon ? Wow. That is very interesting.”

“I mean I didn’t have any plans and he invited me so…”

Her smirk grows wider, “Well…okay.” As though she’s just lost an internal battle with herself, Madison leans closer to him, a palm on his desk, “What is actually going on between you two?” 

Before he has a chance to respond she cuts him off, “I just mean I’ve noticed you guys are really…touchy lately. Always giggling and practically attached at the hip…are you fucking?” Her voice drops to a whisper and Wille practically chokes looking around the nearly empty office in alarm in case someone overheard.

“Oh my god, you are !” She whispers gleefully, jumping a little in place and he reaches out to grab her arm.

“Maddie calm yourself—“

“This shit is soooo fucking funny, does Rosh know?” And then she pulls back, a hand on her chest gasping softly as though she had just thought of something terrible, “ Oh my god is Rosh keeping this from me ?”

“Maddie .” At his tone, she pauses and looks down, “I don’t if Rosh knows. Simon hasn’t told me who he’s told, also why funny? You didn’t think he'd be interested in me?”

“Oh please. Of course, he’d be interested in you. I mean look at you, you are just the right amount of disillusioned young artist, chaotic queer mess and all-around sweetheart. How could he not? I mean it’s really doing something for me at least.”

He laughs, despite himself, “I’ll let Rosh know you said so.”

“Please do, I’m sure they would get a kick out of it.” Maddie then shakes her head in amusement, looking between him and Simon and leaning forward a bit, “By the way, you should thank me.”

“Huh?”

“I practically am the reason for this.” The dark-haired woman teases,  “I got him this job. So all the action you’re getting right now? It’s thanks to me.” 

“Wow. Thank you, Maddie. Should I have him sign your Thank You Card?” he snorts, becoming distracted when he sees that Simon has noticed the two of them and is looking over their way with a curious expression. 

“Please do, I’m sure he appreciates it too after all,” Maddie says before looking over at the other man and waving coyly in his direction with a sweet smile. Simon raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of them before giving a stunted wave of his own.

“Anyway, lover boy. Have a great holiday. I have to get home or Rosh will be pissed. I already stayed later than I wanted to.” She grins at him and steps away from his desk before saying with a teasing lilt, “Stay safe and all. Damn, I knew I should have bought you condoms and lube for Christmas but I don't know what kind you prefer and Im not sure I really want to know.”

“Bye Maddie.” He says louder than before, with a partly amused and partly mortified strain to his voice as he waves her off. 

She winks and turns away heading to Simon’s desk to say goodbye. Wille keeps an eye on her, curious what she will say to him, but nothing she says seems to fluster him and soon she’s already slipping through the elevator doors with someone else who is leaving.

He catches Simon’s gaze as he looks away from the spot where she had just been and sees him watching him with an intent expression. Wille feels something burning to life inside of him when Simon’s lips pull into a coy smirk, playing suggestively with the pen in his loose grip. Simon winks at him and he feels the back of his neck flush.

This entire past week and a half has been, frankly speaking, the hottest fucking time of his entire life. Ever since that night in his apartment, it was like something had been unleashed in both of them, they can’t seem to get enough of each other, It’s like he’s going through some kind of sexual awakening again , despite being the furthest thing from inexperienced. It’s never been like this, this constant need and constant heat. Being here at the office where Simon is just always around but they can’t touch each other is absolutely maddening.

Simon absolutely knows the effect he has on him and he’s been an absolute menace all week, making excuses to walk past his desk when he doesn’t need to, putting a hand on Wille’s shoulder as he leans over him so he can smell his cologne and feel him press against his back.

But Wille isn’t letting him get away with that, earlier he had definitely been aware that Simon’s eyes had been on him as he ate his lunch, so he’d done some things with his yoghurt spoon that really would be mortifying to think about if they both weren’t so damn horny all the time. 

It’s like a game, who will break first. Who will jump who in the parking garage or as soon as the apartment door closes. Sometimes they continue the game through the night until it gets impossible as their ploys for attention grow more and more ridiculous.

Wille bites his lip and tries to refocus on the work he’s doing, determined to finish so that he won’t have to worry about it over the break. He’s looking forward to spending Christmas in Bjärstad and doesn’t want to be thinking about work or clients and deadlines.

It will be the first time he’s spent Christmas with someone else, much less with a family in what feels like a long time. He doesn’t really know what to expect but no matter what it’s bound to be better than sitting at home and watching Kalle in the silence of his empty apartment. 

It’s past six, which is much later than he’s normally in the office. At this point, it is only Simon, himself and a female colleague who is finishing up some last-minute changes to a campaign, left in the office. It’s very quiet except for the clacking of the keyboard. Most of the lights in the office have already been turned off. 

Tomorrow morning Simon, Ayub and himself are leaving for Bjärstad. It’s a two-hour drive so they are planning to leave fairly early in the morning and since he had offered to drive them all, Wille is going to stay over at their apartment tonight meaning Simon is stuck waiting until he’s finished since they will leave the office together anyway. It’s growing late, so one might think Simon would want Wille to finish up as quickly as possible, but it definitely feels like he is trying to distract him considering the way he keeps crossing over to the window and stretching just so that his cosy looking sweater rides up over his hips to reveal the soft looking skin of his stomach and the lines of his lower back. 

Wille finally gets confirmation that he’s purposely trying to distract him however when he “accidentally” forgets something on his way back to his desk, going out of his way to pass Wille and dropping part of his clementine peel,  looking over at him to make sure he’s watching as he slowly leans down to pick it up. Simon must know how good the curves of him look bent like this because he turns just enough to smirk at him from over his shoulder while popping one of the fruit segments into his mouth, making a borderline lewd noise of approval at the taste. 

That’s it. If Simon wants to get him bothered so badly then two can play at that game. Wille stands suddenly and Simon jumps a bit in surprise, eyes widening as he reaches over a hand on his arm, looking over at where their coworker is seemingly getting her things together to leave as well. 

Wille leans forward to murmur in the shell of his ear, “Conference room. Five minutes.” 

When he pulls back he’s incredibly pleased to see the flush that’s on Simon’s cheeks and the way his dark eyes follow him as he heads toward the cloakroom. 

“Going home now Ebba?” Wille asks their colleague as approaches her desk. He can feel Simon still watching him but keeps his attention on the blonde as she looks up at him with a blinding smile.

“Finally!”

“Have a great holiday,” Wille says, slipping his hands into his pockets, cool, calm and collected and pointedly ignoring the heavy stare on his back.

“You too! I’m just gonna run to wash up before leaving. You guys should go home soon too!”

“Just have something pressing to take care of first.”

“Well don’t work too hard boys.” She smiles over at Simon behind him.

“You know what they say. Work hard , play hard .” This time he looks over in Simon’s direction with a smirk and sees his eyebrow raise practically sky high, coughing into his hand.

She disappears into the washroom and Wille continues without pause to where his weekend bag is hanging with his coat, packed for their trip. He opens the bag and digs around before finding what he’s looking for, slipping both  the condom and the lube into his pocket before turning to look at his appearance in the mirror, feeling his confidence waver for a moment as he inspects his pale cheeks while frowning at a zit that’s coming up near his bottom lip. 

Wille runs a hand through his hair, messing up the style a bit as he inspects himself before checking his breath and scrunching up his nose before grabbing a mint from his bag and hastily chewing it up.

He smoothes out the oversized sweater he’s wearing and takes a step back to inspect himself. Wille isn’t sure what he’s being so critical about, you would think that they’ve already gotten past the point where they should be so self-conscious in front of one another. 

Simon has seen his shitty skin, his ragged nails and the pale scars that line his hip. He’s kissed him with morning breath and laughed at his stupid jokes and allowed him to play his shitty music without complaint. Wille shakes his head at the way he’s acting and shakes his shoulders out, stepping back and rubbing his chin while nodding at his reflection and giving himself what’s supposed to be a cool, suave smile. After a few seconds, Wille scrunches up his nose again, shaking his head before thinking to hell with it , he steps out of the cloakroom, looking over at Simon who is saying goodbye to their coworker at the kitchen sink, washing up his dishes.

Wille turns, continuing into the empty conference room before closing the door behind him with a soft click. The room is dim and shadowed but light comes in through the gigantic floor-to-ceiling glass windows that allow the lights from Sergelstorg and the towering Crystal Sculpture that glow a neon red from across the way. 

It’s six p.m. and the sky is pitch black beyond the windows. The city below, however, is lit with warm lights and glittering wet pavement that reflects the windows and the glow of the neon. From here he can see people moving from place to place, cars with their headlights on driving, a tram rambling by on the tracks. But none of them below knows he’s up here watching, the conference room is submerged in darkness save for the glow of Stockholm on a winter night that sleeps through.

From behind him, the door opens quietly and he turns just as Simon steps inside, a playful grin on his lips. The man closes the door behind him and laughs, “You wanted to see me?”

Wille turns to look at him, bathed in the city lights, the same faint red glow haloing his curls. “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about your performance.” 

“Oh?” Simon clasps his hands behind his back as he takes a few exaggerated steps forward before he stands in front of Wille, tilting his chin to look up at him through his lashes, “You’re going to give me a performance review hmm?”

“Well, technically I am your superior.” Wille shrugs taking a step forward as well,

Simon rolls his eyes, “Oh please we aren’t even in the same department. This is getting a little red flag-y. Do you get off on being an authority figure or something?”

“Do you get off thinking about me as an authority figure or something?” Wille teases and they both laugh as he raises a hand to run through the other's curls, “Okay. Then you give me a performance report. Tell me. What are my strengths and weaknesses then.” He leans forward slightly and sees the shift of Simon’s pupils in the dark as his shadow stretches over the other man’s features.

“Strengths…you’re a very attractive coworker. And you’re always bringing me food so that’s a plus. Hmm, your ass looks fucking incredible in those fake leather pants you’re wearing—“ Simon’s hand snakes around to his backside as if to illustrate his point, “And you’re kind of funny so that’s an added bonus.”

Wille huffs, eyebrows raised, “Oh okay and so weaknesses? Things I could improve on?”

“You drive like a madman. You’re a fucking tease and unfortunately, I’m not getting any work done because all I can think about is you getting on your knees for me. Right here.” He pulls back sharply to see Simon’s gaze sharpen slightly and he feels slightly weak at the sight, but there’s still a grin on his lips his demeanour flirting between something dangerous and coy.

“Right here? In front of all of Stockholm? Are you actually an exhibitionist and forgot to tell me?” Wille presses into him, pushing him back into the edge of the conference table, a hand curling around his hip as he leans forward to press a lingering kiss against Simon’s exposed neck. 

“Oh my god Wille do you ever shut up?” Simon’s voice is tinged with frustration, but Wille feels the way he shivers under his touch and the soft breath he inhales as Wille begins to rub circles into his hip. 

“Are you going to make me shut up?” He smirks, pressing another kiss against his neck.

Simon bites his lip as Wille grinds into him, continuing his lips journey down his neck and shoulder where the loose collared sweater has slipped down, “I have a suspicion that you kind of like it when I don’t shut up.” He grins wickedly against the bone of his shoulder, flicking up to see the way Simon leans his head to the side to give him more access, biting his lip.

“Maybe….” Simon swallows and Wille chuckles, slipping the hand on his hip up underneath the sweater. 

“You know anyone could walk in here right now,” Wille whispers in the shell of his ear and Simon shivers again, gripping onto his other arm. “Does that turn you on?”

“No one’s here.” Simon says, “Ebba already left.”

“What if she forgot something? And came back and saw us like this. What do you think she would say?”

He can feel Simon hard against him, his own body responding quickly to the friction between them.

Simon chuckles, the sound a bit strained, “She’d probably get HR involved.”

Wille laughs, hand going to the button of Simon’s jeans, “See look at you bringing more authority figures into. I think you have a power kink, Simon.”

“I think I’ve decided I like it better when you’re quiet ,” Simon says turning toward him with a grin on his lips to match Wille’s own.

“You get me for a whole four days. Better get used to it.”

“I have my ways of making you quiet.” Simon leans forward, bumping their noses together in a way that’s ridiculously endearing and cute considering the way the man’s erection is pressing into his own.

“Oh, do you now?”

“Yeah.” Simon licks his own lips and leans forward, kissing him, tangling his fingers into his hair and Wille wonders what the fuck he was so self-conscious about earlier because Simon kisses him like he wants him and like he can make him forget all the things he hates about himself.

Wille tugs his jeans down and Simon shifts to help him with the rest until then he’s exposed in the dark shadows of the empty conference room, keeping his balance with one hand behind him on the table and panting slightly, Wille’s eyes follow the movement of his chest and the little dip in his solar plexus where it rises and falls with his quick breaths.

Hell. He’s like an Angel, or maybe some kind of demon sent to destroy him. They were having a meeting at this table not even four hours ago. There’s no way in hell he will ever be able to sit in this room and not think about this.

Wille gets to his knees and the room is suddenly filled with the sound of Simon’s long drawn-out moan when he does exactly as the other had suggested and wraps his lips around him.

He takes his time with it, having learned much more about what the other man likes and how much better at reading the signs of his body. Simon tugs almost painfully at his hair, which Wille has come to understand he’s moving too fast, so he slows down and flicks his eyes up to watch the fleeting expressions of ecstasy that cross his features. The way his brows and the bridge of his nose twist when Wille uses his tongue just so, or how he grips at the edge of the table and whines when Wille hums around him. He’s clearly enjoying this and Wille loves it just as much, loves to see him lose that sense of self-consciousness that he seems to carry and just feel things he wants to feel. 

Since they started sleeping together, Simon has seemed to have changed a lot when they do, becoming less passive and gaining more confidence to ask directly for what he wants and try new things. Wille never went into this with any expectations, and he’s really happy just doing whatever Simon wants to do, but he is glad that he feels comfortable enough with him to let loose a bit as it seems. Simon doesn’t really talk about his past relationships, but from what he’s picked up on, Wille has the feeling that the other man had kind of mostly followed the lead of his other partners because that’s where he had felt comfortable. 

He’s still slightly reserved, which Wille doesn’t mind, of course, he would never tell someone how they should react in any situation, but he’s noticed that the more they do this, the less Simon seems to think about everything and Wille loves knowing how he can make him fall apart. 

Simon tugs at his hair and he pulls back to look at him, breathing hard and lip slightly swollen from where he’s been biting it. 

“What do you want?” Wille asks in a low voice, rising to his feet and leaning in, a hand on either side of the other man.

Simon breathes in shakily, “I have some stuff in my bag…”

Before he can continue, Wille fishes out the small bottle and the plastic-wrapped condom, “This kind of stuff?”

Simon’s wide eyes answer the question for him, “You are prepared.”

“Well, I haven’t been able to think of much else today.” He murmurs, leaning forward and kissing him again, pleased when he melts into the kiss, pulling him as close as he can like this, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Me either. What the fuck have you done to me Cronstedt? I’m literally horny all the time .”

Wille knows, and he’s definitely noticed the same for himself but hearing Simon admit it out loud is probably the hottest thing he’s heard all night and he aches for him, aches to push him down onto the table and take him with the whole city at his back completely unaware. 

They make quick work of it, and soon he’s gripping onto Simon’s hip, guiding himself inside of him. Simon is in a slightly awkward position, trying to hold himself up.

“This is way too acrobatic for me.” He says, groaning as his head falls back and Wille shifts so he can adjust.

“Just lay back if that’s more comfortable.”

Simon nods and does so, shifting his legs so there’s space, laying back on the table.  He looks up at Wille, his breathing is quick, rising and falling, looking magnificent spread out like that on the table. From here Wille is too far away to lean down to kiss him, but he can touch him and he can see everything, and has a perfect view of the way he reacts. 

“Hell,” Wille whispers and he only realizes that he’s said it out loud when Simon swallows and looks up at him with a questioning gaze.

“What?”

Shaking his head, Wille quickly tries to respond coherently, “You just…” 

The other man makes a soft noise, rocking his hips toward him and Wille gasps at the feeling falling forward slightly, his fingers pressing deep into the other's hips.

“Wille… please,” Simon murmurs, running a hand through his curls and leaning back to look at him with heat lingering in his gaze.

And Wille is so so gone. There's nothing he would deny him now.

Wille lets himself focus on the physical feeling of being so connected, how it burns into every cell and nerve of his body. He loses himself in the pursuit of that white-hot pleasure reaching toward it together. It's been a few days since they had sex this way and every time it’s just as good, but something about doing it here, in the place they had reconnected after all these years, where they spend every day orbiting around each other without anyone knowing what they do together when they are alone, it does something filthy to his mind that goes straight to his cock. 

“How long have you been waiting for me to do this to you here in the office?” He asks breathlessly as he slows the movement of his hips forcing Simon to look at him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The other retorts and reaches down to stroke himself, “I hate you please can you just—-“ he arches back with a sharp noise when Wille slides his arms under both of Simon’s legs, pulling him closer and thrusts into him with an intensity that surprises even himself.

“How long?” He grits out and Simon’s eyes are squeezed shut, like he can’t think properly much less manage a response.

“Fuck…. fuck… since we hooked up—“ he’s cut off as Wille’s hips roll into him and he knows that the other man is close, can see the tension that is taut in his body, it isn’t long before he feels the tension snap, the body underneath him arch in small spasms as a deep sound escapes his lips, head thrown back against the table in ecstasy.

Wille feels his release come across his stomach and his chest and it’s what pushes him over the edge as well, mouth open in a silent cry as he almost collapses over the man’s body. 

Hell. Fuck. Shit. Dammit 

His vocabulary fails him, he’s rendered dumb and unable to properly think much less form intelligible sentences. Oddly enough the first thing he can really thing about is that he’s grateful that they had actually taken the time to get undressed. He doesn’t exactly have time to do laundry after all. 

“What about you?” 

He looks up, brows furrowed, pulled away from his odd thoughts trying to make sense of the words and trying to catch his breath, “Huh?”

“How long have you thought about this?” Simon’s chest is slick with sweat, a flush that extends up to his cheeks as he stares at him, panting and looking blissed and boneless on the table.

Since Stella’s party when Simon smiled at him and kissed him breathless, since he realized he was joining their company, since he had watched him standing awkwardly alone at the event, nursing a drink on his own… but he thinks he will sound creepy if he says that so he just swallows and says, “Before we hooked up.”

Simon seems to be satisfied with that answer and nods letting his head fall to the side. “I can’t move. Leave me here. Also, I’m pretty sure I hit my head.”

Wille watches him for a moment, more than a little captivated but eventually pulls back, feeling gross after the loss of contact. “I need to clean this off of me…” he says and Simon snickers, making some inappropriate comment that has him rolling his eyes.

“Here he reaches over for the tissue box on the table, trying not to touch the box itself and only get the tissues, they wipe off as best they can and Wille ties the condom off skirting off to the bathroom to dispose of it with the tissues as discretely as possible, Simon follows after him, going to the sink to wash his hands and splash water in his face. They catch each other's gaze in the mirror and laugh.

“Top ways to get fired.” He grins, “Get caught having sex in the conference room.”

Wille snorts going to wash off in the sink as well, “Well I don’t know how I’m going to act normally the next time we have to go in there for a meeting or a client presentation without thinking about that. ”

Simon smirks and turns around, flicking water at him and Wille gasps, shirking backwards and raising a hand to defend himself, “Hey!”

“Someone needs to take a cold shower when we get to my place.”

Wille rolls his eyes pulling back to go and fetch his things from the cloakroom, “I’ll have to keep the door locked so you don’t jump me.”

“Oh please I’m not that desperate,” Simon calls after him as the door swings shut and Wille grins to himself, a spring in his step as he goes to retrieve his things. 

_________

It’s early when they leave Simon’s apartment. They had put their bags in the car the night before and Simon had slept through his alarm three times but he still looks grumpy and exhausted as he shuffles into the passenger seat in his purple hoodie and the same sweatpants he had slept in the night before. 

Ayub slides into the backseat, yawning and looking bleary-eyed, hoodie pulled up over his dark ponytail and covering his face. He yawns and catches Wille’s gaze in the rearview mirror, “Thanks for driving us bro.”

Simon had told him that Ayub and his family are Muslim so they don’t celebrate Christmas, but since he and his parents have Christmas holiday off from work he’s going back home to spend some time with them and his sisters. Simon had also told him that Ayub and his family often come over to his house on Christmas Eve to share a meal since both their mothers have been quite close since the two of them had met in dagis. He had explained that Linda’s family is still scattered across the Americas and it’s not possible for them to visit very often, so it had become a little tradition between the two women. Ayub’s family always invites them over when they are celebrating something special as well. 

Both Ayub and Simon are dead silent and exhausted looking but Wille on the other hand is awake and ready to go, a giant thermos of hot coffee in his hand as he slips into the driver's seat of the car and starts up the engine and heating, waiting for the windows to defrost and double-checking the GPS directions on his phone before he mounts it on the dash humming under his breath.

“You’re so fucking chipper.” Simon groans and Wille looks over at him, unable to stifle the laugh at the sight of him with his messy bed head hood pulled over his face, curled into the pillow he’s clutching. There’s a glower on his face and dark shadows under his eyes.

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve!” He says brightly, a little too loudly judging by the way Simon shrinks back and Ayub groans from behind them both.

“Sorry…” He laughs, “You guys can just sleep no worries, I have GPS.”

“Sleep? In a car with you?” Simon looks over at him from across in the passenger seat, an eyebrow raised and an incredulous expression on his face, “Are you crazy? No way.”

Wille shakes his head, “I’m not that bad of a driver okay.”

Simon stares at him and blinks, “Yeah no napping for me.”

“I’ll be napping.” A murmur reaches him from the back and he looks in the rearview to see the other man already getting comfortable and closing his eyes.

It’s almost 8 a.m. and still dark enough to be nighttime, it’s a little over a two-hour drive to Simon’s house in Bjärstad, but by the time they arrive the sun will have risen.

The first thirty minutes or so are mostly spent in quiet, punctuated by an occasional yawn from Simon’s side of the car. 

The other man starts to perk up a bit as the sky gets brighter outside and as they steadily deplete their thermoses of coffee. Finally, the sun has risen about an hour after they leave Stockholm, wan and pale as it is and Simon is fully awake. Blinking around at the endless blur of green and the mostly stretch of road ahead of them. Most of the traffic has lightened up once they left the city and its surrounding areas. Wille has some quieter music playing in the background, but Simon reaches for his phone and switches it to the playlist that he himself had made a few weeks prior, letting it run and turning up the volume. It’s a lot of music that he wouldn’t usually listen to, a little more poppy, but he finds he likes it a lot especially when he hears Simon singing along, quiet at first but with increasing volume over time. 

Looking at him from the corner of his eye he finds himself smiling as the other sways a bit with the song, looking out the window at the endless blur of green that goes by as he sings almost as though he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. The sound of his voice is so beautiful, Wille could listen to it forever. Somehow Ayub manages to sleep through all of this, but maybe being his roommate already used to it.

Halfway way they stop at a gas station to refill the tank and buy something to eat on the way. None of them had eaten anything before the drive and the coffee on his empty stomach is unpleasant even though he doesn’t really feel very hungry. They buy saffron buns from the counter, which Simon insists on because it’s Christmas . Wille buys another black coffee and Ayub had asked for and they hurry back to the car neither of them dressed warm enough for the harsh cold.

Once they are back on the road again Wille reaches for the phone only for his hand to be smacked away.

“Pay attention to the road. I’ve got it.” Simon says in exasperation and picks one of Wille’s favourite driving lists. He can’t help but feel slightly disappointed however realizing that he won’t get to hear Simon sing along any longer. 

“I still think it’s really nice of your mamma to allow me to join you guys.” He says, merging into the lane where his exit is. 

“She was excited to see you again. Sara too.”

“Was Sara surprised that I was coming?” Wille looks over at him, curious and Simon shrugs.

“I guess? To be honest it’s kind of hard to surprise Sara in general.” The other man looks back at Ayub who is sipping at the tea and looking out the window, “It’s gonna be a full house. You, me, Sara, Mamma…Ayub's family.”

“How many are in your family?” Wille addresses the man in the back who looks over at them, tearing his eyes off the view.

“Six, technically. Me, Mamma and Pappa, and my three sisters. But Salma, the eldest, is living in Canada with her family so she won't be there.”

“How old are your younger sisters?” He asks and Ayub makes a panicked face as though he has forgotten.

“Wait…ah yeah okay. Aisha is sixteen now and Urfi is ten.” 

“Awww I haven't seen Urfi in a long time.” Simon remarks from beside him, turning to look at his friend, “How is she doing?”

“She’s excited to see you.” He sips at the steaming paper cup, “I swear she doesn't care that I’m coming home, she just wants to see Simon.” 

Simon grins at his friend and shrugs his shoulders, “What can I say, your sisters love me.”

“I’m glad you're going to be there Wille,” Ayub says from the backseat and he can’t help the small smile that grows on his lips. He’s glad that Simon’s best friend likes him as well, wonders if he had been at all surprised when Simon had mentioned he was joining this year. 

Wille doesn’t mention that Felice and Nils (mostly Nils) had been extremely surprised. Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, Felice hadn’t seemed that ruffled by the news but Nils had practically rushed him when he had casually mentioned it at their annual friends Christmas dinner.

It is worth noting that he hasn’t told either of them about his and Simon’s arrangement yet, though he’s not quite sure what’s stopping him. Wille gets the feeling neither of them are going to think it’s a good idea. They’ve been teasing him for his supposed “thing” for Simon ever since the man has come back into his life and to be honest, he feels as though they might try to talk him out of this thing the two of them have going.

The truth is, he honestly doesn’t know how he feels when it comes to Simon, it’s confusing, to say the least. Simon was kind of part of his whole teenage sexual awakening so to speak even though they had barely spoken back in school together. He had been a little blinded by him in those days, but he didn’t know him and they hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know each other so his infatuation hadn’t gone anywhere and had eventually been buried as other people came into his life. 

Seeing him again at Stella’s party had awoken that infatuation once more, this time more than an innocent schoolboy crush, but a mature desire that he had much better tools to understand and pursue after enough years of discovering himself. But that hadn’t really gone anywhere either and when they reconnected at SocialFly Simon had been in a relationship.

The one thing he is sure of, however, is that he wants Simon in his life for a long time, in whatever form that takes. Wille knows what he feels is more than friendship, but he can’t say it’s something like that stereotypical romantic love people talk about all the time. It’s important and precious to him, it’s something he wants to nurture, but he can’t really explain it in simple terms like love or desire or friendship. 

But what does he know about love anyway?

After his relationship with Alex had ended so abruptly, Wille had spent a lot of time thinking back and wondering if he had been in love with him. After all, he had all the “symptoms”, butterflies, that sense of exhilaration and thrill, that nervous energy whenever they were together. Feeling absolutely devastated, broken, when he had been so easily abandoned.

Well if that had been love, he’s not so sure he wants to feel that again when he knows how shitty it is once it inevitably ends.

_________

They drop Ayub off outside his apartment building first. Simon hops out quickly to hug him and say see you tomorrow instead of goodbye and Wille waves him off through the window as he disappears into his building. Then they are on the road again, finishing up the short leg left to where Simons neighbourhood is.

Once they reach the address, Wille pulls up to the curb and parks parallel as Simon had instructed. Quickly, eager to get out and stretch their legs and finally arrive , Wille pops the trunk and they get out to grab their things. 

The path up to his house is short, winding through a small garden. The house itself is a modest one-story with very much the same layout and style as the others in the neighbourhood that he can see. There’s a large open window with an triangular advent candle fixture glowing cheerily on the windowsill and from here he can look into the kitchen and dining area that is, from what he can tell arranged cosily with furniture that’s slightly mismatched but well taken care of. 

There’s movement inside and the door opens before they’ve quite landed on the stoop as Linda Eriksson steps out arms open wide and smiling.

“Simon!” She says as they come together, embracing one another tightly and rocking back and forth there at the front of the house. She’s launched into Spanish so Wille can't understand what she’s saying but he can tell in the affection in her tone and the way she leans back to cup his cheeks and smile deep into his eyes, that it’s something indicative of their close relationship.

Linda is almost the polar opposite of his own mother, at least from what he knows about her. He’s met her several times at Hillerska functions, early as the mother of both Simon and Sara, and later after Simon left the school when she would attend various events for his sister.

She’s dressed in a Christmas-y red sweater and has an apron tied around her waist that has traces of flour and remnants of various other ingredients shes been using in the holiday preparation that is already ongoing. Looking through the window into the kitchen he can see, even from here, the counter and the table full of things, many of which are unfamiliar to him, different canned foods and fruits and bottles with labels in Spanish.

“It’s a mess in here, I’ve got everything together in little stations. I’m prepping everything that needs to be cooked tomorrow, and trying to finish up everything that can be done today, you two came just in time to help out.”

Kristina would have never been caught dead with anything on her clothes, much less in an apron to begin with. Now that he thinks about it Wille doesn’t think his parents ever cooked, at least for holidays. His pappa sometimes had made waffles in a heart-shaped waffle iron but that feels so long ago that Wille questions whether it really happened or whether his own mind had supplied it out of childhood imagination. 

Then Linda turns her attention to him and he can’t help but feel slightly put on the spot as she opens her arms for him as well and steps forward, “Wilhelm! It’s so good to see you! It’s been so long.” She hugs him tightly and he is immediately hit by the scent of her perfume and whatever it is that she’s been making, something buttery. He wants to relax into her but, unexpectedly he’s a little overwhelmed from the small show of affection. There’s something inherently maternal about it that makes him feel a little choked up, like his skin is too tight for his body and he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself or his hands. 

She takes a step back and smiles kindly at him looking him over, “Wow you’ve really grown up.” 

Ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck, he lets out a soft, shy laugh, “Yeah well—“

“Wille is the Design Lead at my company.” Simon says and there’s a hint of pride in his voice, “And he’s a great artist.”

Linda looks back at him in surprise, a pleased smile growing on her lips, “An artist? That’s amazing Wilhelm. I’m so happy for you.”

This time he can feel the flush creep up to his cheeks, “Oh thank you, Linda.”

She smiles brightly looking between the two of them before settling back on him and putting a hand comfortingly on his shoulder, “I’m so glad you could join us this year for Christmas.” 

“I’m just very thankful that you will have me.” Those words are honest and genuinely meant. It seems like such a big thing for him coming from his own family, with their stuffy elaborate holiday traditions more often than not full of people he had barely known. Partners and affiliates of their firm, business connections, a very strict and carefully tailored guest list. They would have never allowed last-minute guests and especially not random friends of his.

“Of course.” She beams before clapping her hands together, rubbing them with a shiver, “It’s so cold out here come in come before you both freeze….honestly you aren’t wearing enough so don’t be surprised if you get sick—-“

“ Mamma ” Simon groans a little looking over at Wille with an amused roll of his eyes.

Wille honestly is just enjoying the concern. He’s pretty sure neither of his parents had ever been aware of what he was wearing unless it was for a company event or for their carefully staged yearly photos. 

Linda pokes at Simon’s side, causing him to jump and chides at him in rapid Spanish which he responds sheepishly to as they make their way inside, hanging up their outerwear and taking off their shoes.

It’s warm and cosy inside the house, there are a few fairy lights strung up for holiday ambience along with the large advent light fixture sitting in the window. From here he can spy a handful of Christmas cards in various languages kept on the fridge by magnets.

“Welcome welcome,” Linda says, turning to Wille again and beaming, she looks over at Simon and says something that has the other man turning beet red and letting out a surprised squeak and an indignant Mamma!

Wille blinks, making a mental note to ask Simon later what that was about.

Linda grins as she offers them coffee or tea to which they both ask for coffee, Simon suddenly a little more reserved than usual.

“Simon why don’t you show Wille where you two will be staying and where everything is located. Once you’ve put your things away your coffees will be waiting and we can have a little catch up.” 

Simon runs a hand through his curls and shoots Wille a look that he can’t quite read before nodding and gesturing for him to follow 

“What did your mother say earlier?” He asks as he follows Simon into the back of the house with their bags

“Oh. Don’t worry about that she was just teasing me” 

Wille hums thoughtfully, “Was it about me?” 

Simon huffs a bit, “You don’t ever let things go huh. Maybe you should learn Spanish then if you want to eavesdrop.”

That gets Wille to laugh, “Yeah sure sounds easy enough.” They duck into a room in the back of the house, past the laundry machines. 

It’s a very small room, with a single bed tucked against the wall. There are books and comics stacked on the desk, an old lava lamp, an empty fish tank, discolored marks where posters or pictures used to hang on the wall.

“Cosy,” Wille remarks looking around before his eyes land on the bed.

He realizes that Simon is looking at the bed as well, a faint groan escaping him, that look he couldn’t quite read from earlier creeping back into his face.

And then Wille realizes.

“Your mother thinks we are dating doesn't she.” He says and Simon turns with a slight grimace as though he’s been caught.

“Maybe…like I've never brought anyone home for holidays before and she assumed…sorry about that. I’ll go get the air mattress from the closet, you can take the bed.”

Wille laughs sitting down on the bed, bouncing a little and looking around, “Never?” He’s still stuck on that detail because as far as he knows Simon has been dating a lot of different people and it’s surprising to him he’s never introduced any of them to his family before. 

“No. Never. Not someone I was dating at least.” His eyes widen a bit, “Not that we’re dating.”

“I know what you meant.” Wille smiles a bit as they regard each other, “Well…what do you want me to say to her then?”

Simon groans and runs a hand through his curls plopping down next to him, “I told her we were just friends.”

Which is the truth after all. Wille looks over at him, “You don’t need to get the air mattress if it’s going to be a lot of work. I don’t mind sharing. We’ve slept in the same bed plenty of times.”

Simon laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, his dark eyes flutter up to look at him, “Yeah I know…I mean I don’t mind if you don’t mind. But that’s not exactly going to convince my mother we aren’t dating just so you’re aware. She’s going to be all over you while you’re here.”

Wille shrugs, “I don’t mind.”

Simon turns to look at him.

“That she’s all over me.” He clarifies quickly, “You know. It’s kind of nice, not really used to the whole motherly love thing.”

The surprise in Simon’s expression fades to concern, “Ah…I’m sorry Wille.”

Again he can only shrug, “It is what it is.”

At that moment there’s a noise at the door and they both look up to see Sara there at the entrance.

“Sara!” Simon jumps up 

“Hey.” She says looking at them curiously as Simon strides over to wrap her up in a hug. 

“Hi, Sara. Merry Christmas.” He stands as well, waving to her. Sara nods to him and there's a slight awkward pause as she turns back to her brother.

The two of them were never exactly close in school. They shared Felice as a friend in common, but at Hillerska Sara and Felice had been thick as thieves, they had even shared a room together once Sara had become a boarder. Wille hadn’t been quite as close with her at that point as he had become once they had graduated. 

After Hillerska, Felice and Sara had drifted apart a little, even though they still remain good friends, most likely just a natural consequence of living apart. However, since he Felice had lived together throughout university the two of them had become incredibly close and sometimes Wille gets the feeling that Sara is a bit jealous of this fact. 

“Merry Christmas Wilhelm.” She says finally, looking back over to him, “Mamma has coffee ready if you two want to take a fika.”

Wille thinks his bloodstream must be 70% coffee at this point today but he nods and follows the siblings out to the dining table, where Linda has pushed aside the holiday preparations and has placed mugs and saffran pastries in the center of the table.

“Tell me, Wilhelm.” She turns toward him after they’ve sat down, “I haven’t seen you since yours and Sara’s studenten. What school did you go to? How are your parents doing?” And really he had expected this question. 

Across the table, Simon stiffens, but Wille takes it in stride, “I ended up going to an art school in Stockholm, and my parents are doing fine. Business as usual.” It’s not a lie as far as he’s aware. “Thank you for asking.”

“It’s so interesting that you and Simon met again through work.” Looking between them, she smiles kindly and sips at her coffee.

“I’m surprised he remembered who I was to be honest,” Simon says, causing Wille to look over at him in surprise.

Sara makes a noise from over at her place at the table, something incredulous that is between a snort and a laugh. Everyone at the table turns to look at her and she covers her mouth and tries to cover it by coughing. “What?”

“What are you trying to say?” Simon challenges her, an eyebrow raised and she shakes her head.

Linda looks between her two children sipping curiously at her coffee before looking at Wille himself and smiling again.

Simon and Sara bicker for a bit as Wille awkwardly picks at the tablecloth and finally Linda smacks her palm down on the table, rising with a louder noise than necessary to get their attention. “Okay that’s enough of that . All of you have jobs to do.” Neither one of the siblings breathes a single complaint, though Wille recognizes the look in Simon’s eyes. It’s the same look he gets in the office when he’s asked to do a task he doesn’t really want to do but knows has to be done. 

Linda delegates both her children on cleaning duty and the two of them seem to already know what needs to be done because they split into opposite directions leaving Wille to blink after Simon’s retreating back after he gives him a short explanation and hurries off.

Shifting awkwardly at the table, Wille decides to busy himself by collecting the dishes and cups and carrying them over to the sink where Linda is. She takes them from him with a bright smile and is about to turn back when he asks, “What can I do?”

Linda beams at him, “You’re so thoughtful! Why don’t you help me in here finishing up the Torta Negra. I was prepping all the ingredients before you two arrived.” With a sweeping gesture she points to the counter where she’s arranged butter, sugar, flour and a collection of small bottles and other things including an assortment of candied fruits.

“I don’t know if anyone warned you but I’m pretty awful when it comes to cooking.” He’s not saying that to get out of it, honestly he’s genuinely worried about messing up, especially if it’s some important family tradition, “Are you sure?”

Linda laughs again, shaking her head, the tone warm with a hint of amused understanding, “Don’t you worry I have faith in you. It’s just a matter of measuring everything out, mixing and getting it in the oven. Here I’ll show you.”

With Linda’s supervision, he follows the recipe she hands him as she works on another dish at the counter behind him, popping over his shoulder every so often to check on him. Before he pops the pan into the oven she stops him and motions for him to bring the bowl to her.

“Quality control.” She says by way of explanation dipping a clean spoon she's just pulled from the drawer into the thick, dark batter. He waits, almost nervous, until she nods in satisfaction and steps aside for him to slide the pan onto the rack.

“You did good.” Linda says, “I told you you would.”

“I’ve never tried this kind of cake before.” Wille remarks, glancing at the inside of the oven as he closes the door and takes a step back.

“No, I wouldn't think so. It’s more or less a fruitcake that's popular around this time of year where I grew up, but it’s the recipe my mamma always made when I was growing up. It was never really my favourite, but it just feels like I have to eat it at Christmas time. I’m sorry I didn’t manage to ask you if there was anything you wanted, I guess our meal is going to be a bit different than what you’re used to.”

“Oh please don’t worry about me.” Wille says turning to look at her, “I’ll gladly eat anything you’re offering. I’m just happy to be here.”

Linda smiles, studying him for a moment, “What about your family? Were they okay with you coming here this year? I know Christmas is usually an important holiday for families.”

The question makes him pause for a moment, “Oh…” there is something about Linda that makes him want to be honest. To tell her that he hasn’t spent holidays with a “family” in years, but these things are heavy and it’s Christmas and he doesn’t want to bother her with his family drama, “Yeah. They didn’t mind.”

After a brief moment of quiet, where she's studying him carefully Linda finally nods with a kind smile,“Good to hear then. I hope you’ll pass along my regards.” She then goes back to whatever it is that she’s making, while Wille takes all the bowls and utensils to the sink to be washed.

He’s not so sure if she really believes him, but Wille is very grateful that Linda doesn’t push or ask him more questions. He’s honestly not sure how he would answer. People tend to get sad when he tells them, or try and say things to cheer him up or treat him more carefully like he's going to start crying at a moments notice, and frankly, he hates that. Even if it comes from a place of caring, it’s sometimes just too much for him to handle.

There's another stretch of quiet between them as he washes up the dishes and spoons from the cake mix. Linda moves deftly around her kitchen, adding things to this and that, as though she knows exactly what she’s doing. Not once does she stop to check a recipe or second-guess herself. For someone like him who has absolutely zero confidence in the kitchen, it really is quite impressive to watch. 

Suddenly, just as he's drying the last bowl, she looks over at him and he catches her curious expression.

“So you and Simon…” She starts, almost as though she isn't sure if she should continue that train of thought. Remembering what Simon had said earlier in his room about her assuming they were together, he starts to feel a bit hot around the collar.

“He’s a good friend.” Wille says after a beat, “I’m lucky to have him in my life.”

Linda looks over at him for a moment and then she puts a hand on his arm. The action causes Wille to straighten and look at her closely, “He hasn’t had it so easy so…I just want to thank you for being a good friend to him.”

Wille looks at her with wide eyes unsure where this is coming from as she continues, “He just seems…happier than he has for a long time. So I really appreciate it. I just worry about my kids, you know. I want them to be happy. He’s so far away in the city and sometimes I just feel so out of touch with what's going on in his life. You're a good kid, Wilhelm. It puts me at ease to know he has you.”

He feels himself flush as her words sink in. You're a good kid. His stomach clenches, almost painfully at how kind they are. He can’t remember the last time he had felt that kind of praise from his own parents, and he had been in her home for only a few hours. 

  Linda goes back to what she’s doing and before he has a chance to react or say something in return, Simon himself comes around the corner sniffing at the air, “ Torta Negra huh?” His nose is wrinkled up which tells Wille everything he needs to know about Simon’s relationship with the fruit cake. 

“Yes but don’t worry I have a quesillo in the fridge for you.” She remarks without turning and Wille sees Simon look relieved.

“I finished with the cleaning Mamma,” Simon says coming to stand beside Wille.

“Great. In that case, can you and Wille run to the store? I just realized I need some ingredients. If you could pick up some drinks for tomorrow as well and something for tonight’s dinner I would really appreciate it. I’m just going to finish up these things.”

Looking over at him, Wille nods, still slightly dazed from the casual affection in Linda’s words. He had always had to fight so hard for any shred of praise or approval, that he really doesn’t know how to process it. 

“Sure mamma, we will be back in a bit.” Simon pulls him over to where their coats and scarves are hung up and they get redressed for Swedish winter. It snowed the night before, so there is a thick blanket of white that coats the ground. The store is about a ten to fifteen-minute walk from his house, so they decide to leave the car. 

Cutting across the pedestrian walkway that connects the roads over the highway, there is a small cluster of buildings, a little restaurant, a small supermarket, and a convenience store. Simon directs him into the supermarket and pulls out the list his mother has given him of what needs to be bought. 

They make quick work of weaving between the aisles and grabbing what they can. Judging by this list, Wille can’t really guess what she is cooking, but it’s nice to be here like this with Simon, seeing his family and his life in this way. He can imagine him, grabbing last-minute groceries here back in high school, running errands for his mother in town, waiting for the bus at the station he had spied down the road. 

They turn into another aisle and Simon is asking Wille if he likes Heinz ketchup or Felix better when Wille feels his phone buzz several times. Absently he pulls it out of his pocket and pauses when he sees the messages on his screen. 

Erik

Hi Wille. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.  really hope you’re spending it with someone you love. 

Erik

Do you remember that Christmas we snuck out of the company holiday party to go sledding in the park and got lost? You must have been 8 or 9 o can’t remember but we got lost and ended up wandering around in the dark for hours. We both got so sick and had to stay at home for like a week haha Mamma and Pappa were so angry at me. I think about that almost every Christmas. Even though I got in a lot of trouble it was so much fun

Erik

I spending Christmas in London this year with my girlfriend. Her name is Olivia, we've been together for almost two years now. I’d really love for you two to meet someday. 

Erik

Our parents don’t know this but I’m thinking of looking for work at a firm in London. I’d have to do a lot since the legal system is different there and they aren’t part of the EU any longer, but Olive and I are getting more serious and I’d like to go out on my own. I’m really proud of you for doing that. I know I told you that before but I want to say it again. 

Erik

I’d really like to see you, Wille. I really miss you. 

Erik

You don’t need to explain anything. Or worry. Or feel anxious. I love you no questions asked, no strings attached, no matter what. 

He feels like he’s underwater like he can barely breathe. Wille is frozen in the aisle, eyes wide reading over the message. Erik will send him a few messages every so often, usually more around the holidays, but this one is longer and it hurts. God. His heart feels like it’s breaking.

I love you no questions asked, no strings attached, no matter what. 

He takes a staggering step backwards, feeling his eyes sting and his vision cloud with tears as he closes his phone and stuffs it unceremoniously into his pocket, taking a ragged breath, his hand finding purchase over his breastbone, rubbing at his chest over and over as he tries to remember how to breathe.

Breathing should be instinctive right? Why does it feel like he’s forgotten how?

London? Erik is moving to London? He’s leaving and Wille has been keeping him away for so long thinking that eventually he’d have the courage to find him and make things right and now he’s realizing that everything is going wrong, everything is—

“Wille?” 

Simon's voice sounds far away and outside the edges of his mind at this moment. He presses the heel of his palm into his chest, hard, the bone aching with the pressure and his skin becoming raw with the friction of his shirt as it rubs against his skin.

“Hey… hey Wille look at me.” Gaze snapping up wilder and less controlled than he would have liked, he sees Simon leaning in close, concern in his expression and a hand on his forearm. When his eyes finally find him and catch up with where he is, Wille can see the relief that bleeds into Simon's dark gaze and when he speaks his voice is soft and soothing, as though he’s trying carefully not to frighten him, “Wille…hi.  There you are.”

Wille blinks and then looks around at his surroundings. They are standing in the aisle at the grocery store, he looks down and sees his Doc Martens against the white grey-flecked linoleum floor and looks up to see the neutral white lighting on the ceiling.

Opening his mouth he swivels back to look at Simon and suddenly feels shame curling up in his stomach. What the fuck. What is wrong with him? How is he this pathetic?

“I’m sorry.” He says swallowing hard, feeling how his hands are still shaking, stuffing them in his pockets so Simon won’t see.

“It’s okay. It’s fine…do you need anything? Can I do anything?”

Wille looks down at the basket Simon is holding, all the groceries Linda had asked them to pick up sitting there waiting to be purchased and he takes a shuddering breath. “Do you mind if I just…step outside and wait for you out there in front? I just need to get some air.”

Simon looks like he wants to say something more but he only nods, “Okay. Just…don’t leave or something. I’ll be really worried if I can’t find you.” Hearing the honest worry in his voice Wille feels another stab of guilt at keeping the truth from him and being so cryptic when really this whole thing is so stupid. Honestly, it’s just a stupid message.

But it’s much more than that. At least it feels that way. 

“I’m just going outside so I won't run away okay? Where am I supposed to go? We are literally in the middle of nowhere out here.” Trying to tease him, his own grin feels fake and stiff on his face and when Simon smiles back it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Wille buries back into his long coat, hiding his face in the oversized collar, feeling Simon’s gaze on him as he escapes to the outside of the store, leaning against the stone where he wont be seen from inside, wrapping his arms around himself while taking a deep breath. 

The air is frigid and hurts his lungs as he gulps down too much of it at once until it hurts. Leaning his head against the wall, Wille closes his eyes and tries to remember what his therapist had once told him about panic attacks.

What you’re feeling is scary but it’s not dangerous. 

His phone is a heavy weight in his pocket and his fingers itch to reach for it, to try and read the message once more without that feeling of impending doom that twists his chest, taking his breath and crushing his heart into pieces. 

A young woman around his age or younger, with a tight blond ponytail, comes out from around the side. She must be one of the store staff at least he assumes based on how she is dressed and the name tag half hidden under her puffy jacket as she leans against the wall, pulling a cigarette box and a lighter out of her jacket pocket. Her face glows momentarily, with orange and red as she lights up, looking over to see him watching as she blows out a thick cloud of smoke. Holding the cigarette in a loose grip in her fingers she raises an eyebrow and Wille takes a step closer.

“Hey, can I get one of those?” He asks.

He used to smoke more, and he still does some nights when he goes out partying. Felice hates it and always complains loudly when he does, but he feels tense and is desperate for something to take the edge off. In the past all of this would culminate in him hiding out in the bathroom when he could be alone and purge the contents of his stomach in a vicious cycle of anxiety and feeling desperate to cleanse himself of everything, to be able to control something in his life since he couldn’t control his anxiety.

She wordlessly offers him the box, staring, and he sees how her eyes scan over him in interest. She’s cute with nice features and full lips, normally he’d be much more charming and flirtatious bumming a cigarette off a pretty stranger but his hands are shaking too much and he doesn’t have the desire to try and think of witty things to say to make her smile. 

Wille tips a cigarette out and lights it with the Zippo she hands him before taking both the box and the lighter back and sliding them into her pocket.

He takes a long drag, wishing he was hitting weed instead of the acrid taste of tobacco, menthol and whatever other fucked up chemicals he’s putting into his lungs. 

Leaning against the wall, Wille watches as the cars drive by, their lights flooding the stripe of road. There isn’t much as far as the eye can see, mostly trees and highway, parking lots and a few houses in the distance only visible by their yellow lights glowing in the rapidly growing dark of afternoon.

Feeling the woman still watching him, Wille doesn’t bother looking over. Maybe it’s a little rude considering she had given him a cig, but he doesn’t feel like he’s given her any indication he’s interested in talking. She looks like she wants to say something but the silence stretches longer and she seems to get that he’s not in a talking mood so she finishes up her smoke, stubs it out into the snow and slips back around the building without a word.

It’s a few minutes later that the automatic doors open and Simon comes out holding several bags. He spots Wille against the wall and his eyes linger on the cigarette before he speaks.

“Hey. It’s fucking freezing out here.”

Wille nods, stepping over to the trash receptacle, thoroughly stubbing his burned-down cigarette against the stone before dropping it inside. 

“Here let me take those.”

They walk quietly the ten or fifteen-minute walk back to Simon’s house, but as it starts to come into view Simon’s steps slow and Wille turns back to look at him.

“Are you okay?” He asks, “Back there at the store…what happened?”

Wille lowers the bag from his shoulders and feels the sick guilty feeling swell inside him once more. It’s unfair of him, to make Simon worry like this, running out without an explanation and scaring his friend.

Closing his eyes, Wille takes a long slow breath, the cloud of warmth that escapes his lips pale in the dark light. “I…my brother messaged me.” 

“Erik? When?“

“Just now. In the store.”

Simon makes a soft sound of understanding and frowns, “What did he say?”

Wille’s lips tighten, fingers itching for another cigarette despite the unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth, “Last time we talked about him…I didn’t really tell you that I’m partially responsible for this. For all the distance between us.”

It’s hard to admit out loud, even if it’s no secret in his own mind, “He’s been trying to reach out to me for a long time.” Kicking at a stone on the ground, he sighs as he continues, “After I graduated from university he came to find me and he apologized and all but he still didn’t really understand what I want or who I am. He was trying to defend mamma and pappa, as though they didn’t really mean what they said…he thought he was trying to mediate I guess, be the neutral party. Back then I was dating a girl, who was also queer but of course, he didn’t know that… and he said something that I don’t think he meant but it still fucking stung. He said something like how I could easily bring her home and our parents wouldn’t care and I lost it because I felt like he didn’t even try to understand. I know he doesn’t really spend time learning how to address topics like these but fucking Google is right there —-“ Wille stops himself and shakes his head fingers twisting around the handle of the plastic bag.

“I blocked his old number and I haven’t talked to him since. But I think someone gave him my new number, probably Felice. There was a point that she was worried about me and probably wanted him as an emergency contact.” Wille rubs his temple, feeling a headache coming on, “He’s apologized so many times. At this point, it was years ago. And Simon I want to forgive him. But I’m terrified to talk to him again because I’ve ignored him for so long and I’m scared that he won’t be the person….he won’t be the person I need him to be. That he will say something hurtful again, even without meaning it. Even though I know he’s trying. And now he says he might be moving to London and what if he leaves …and I never…what if we never make things right and we just go on with our lives as though we don’t even have a whole sibling somewhere out there in the world—“

Simon takes a step towards him and Wille feels his eyes burn, he’s not crying but his eyes sting and he feels hot all over, embarrassed at how stupid this all sounds.”God I sound so pathetic..why do I feel abandoned when I’m the one who abandoned him?”

“Hey.” Simon says, gently taking the bags from him and setting them on the ground, “You don’t sound pathetic and you didn’t abandon him, even if you feel like you did.”

And then, without hesitation, Simon wraps his arms around him and pulls him down towards him and Wille feels the storm inside of him calm, the fog on the seas dispersed and replaced by the golden rays of the sun, feels some warmth return into his numb body. 

“You’re allowed to feel that way, you're allowed to be hurt even though I know you don’t want to be….and I get it. I do. Sometimes the people we love don’t really understand us and it sucks because they are supposed to be the ones who are closest to you, who love you unconditionally. It exhausting to be upset with them.”

Wille makes a strained sound and tucks his chin into Simon’s shoulder, soaking in the feeling of him holding him close this way, “It’s not ...  I don’t think he knows better...I feel like I should be easier on him.”

“I know this isn’t really the same thing…but Sara and I went through a period where we didn’t talk to each other for nearly a year. I was convinced she’d never speak to me again.”

“Why?” He asks quietly, turning into the polyester fabric of the puffy hood of his jacket. 

“Remember I told you about my father? How he turned into a really shitty dad and how he basically…fucked my family up really badly?”

Wille nods, pressing close searching for more warmth. He feels Simon’s hands rubbing a comforting pattern into his back. 

“We made a promise with each other after the three of us moved out and got away from him. Me and Sara did. We promised that neither of us would ever contact him again and then after I graduated high school..he reached out and we met for coffee. He had gotten cleaned up and seemed to be doing a lot better and…I missed him.”

Wille pulls back to look at him and sees the complicated expression on his face. 

“My pappa was the one who actually taught me guitar and piano and really…inspired my love for music. I wanted that connection with him again and we would meet up sometimes and for a while it was great. And then..things started going bad. He started using again…started asking for money and showing up to my university drunk and angry. I felt so betrayed and upset, even though deep down I had expected it in a way.” Simon frowns, and its clear to Wille that this is deeply painful for him, that it has affected him on a profoundly fundamental level. He wants to say something, to offer some comfort, but before he can find the words, Simon continues to speak.

“When Sara found out I had been keeping it from her. She was so angry at me…we fought and then I still had some unresolved anger with her…for dating one of the people who made my life hell in Hillerska in the past. I threw that in her face and so we fought again…then she blocked my number and refused to speak to me.”

“Wait…one of the people from Hillerska—” That information sticks with him suddenly. Simon hasn’t spoken much about what actually happened back then and he realizes that there may be more to it than what he’s told him.

Simon raises a hand, “It was a long time ago, I shouldn't have used it against her, she had already apologized. Well, it came down to…if I was okay not having her in my life for the rest of my life and I…I wasn’t. It took a lot of time and talking and apologies on both our ends and promising to be more honest with one another but we fixed things and I’m grateful we did. She’s my older sister after all.”

Wille Stares at him and bites his lip, “What do you think I should do?”

“I can't tell you what you should do. However, I think you already know what you want to do. But I know it’s scary.” Simon says, gaze direct and a small smile on his lips, “To open up with someone and be vulnerable.”

And he’s right. Wille wants to talk to Erik again, he wants him back in his life, wants to meet his girlfriend and know what his life is like now. Wants to be able to visit him in London one day if he moves, and be an uncle to the kids he might have one day. 

They return to the house where Linda chides them slightly for taking so long. Or really, chides Simon while giving Wille an indulgent smile and asking if he would like anything to snack on or something to drink before they have dinner. She takes the bags from his hands and she and Sara put things away as the two of them go to wash up.

They retire to the TV room after dinner is finished and everything is cleaned and put away. It seems as though Simon is not the only member of the Eriksson family with a competitive streak for games and he finds himself laughing as he tries to keep up with them at some card game he’s never heard of, obviously the one at a disadvantage.

“You’ve never played this game before?” Sara asks almost incredulous as he asks yet again what the rules are. 

They sit with their cards hidden from each other and Wille shakes his head, “No. My family never played games like this together.”

“I'm sure you had some other family traditions together.” Linda says, smiling and he realizes as he thinks back that anything that was considered a “tradition” at his family’s get-together a was usually just for PR.

“Well…we always had the company Christmas party at our home.” He says, thinking back to the expensive and luxurious black-tie events teeming with staff and his parents business partners and acquaintances winding through the halls of their large estate. There had never really been many kids he and Erik’s age and they were always pulled over to do family photos and to shake hands with strangers they didn’t know. “Those were always so boring though.”

“You never baked or anything—-“

“Sara,” Simon says quickly and she quiets looking over at him.

“It’s okay.” Wille murmurs, “My family was never really….the holiday baking kind. My mother had everything ordered and brought by catering staff.” 

“How lovely.” Linda smiles, but her eyes seem slightly sad, “I’m sure you always had very delicious things.”

Wille shrugs, “To be honest I don’t really remember if they were good or not.” He looks away from her gaze, but she doesn’t ask any more questions of him and he’s grateful in a way, not exactly wanting to have to reveal any more of how different his family is from theirs.

Linda passes over a large plate of cookies that she had baked while he and Simon were at the store, “Please have some more cookies, everyone. Wilhelm? These are a special recipe.”

He’s not exactly hungry and admittedly he hasn’t eaten much, but he’s been too ever since Erik had messaged him. Still, at the hopeful and excited look that Linda gives him, his feeling of guilt is what brings him to reach out to take one, nibbling on the corner while wearing a small smile. 

Simon says something to her in Spanish and they talk for a moment before she leans back with a shrug and brandishes her cards. “Okay everyone get ready to be crushed.” 

Wille and Simon get their asses handed to them, completely demolished by the powerhouse team that is Linda and Sara and once they finish, Linda declares they all need a break. She calls Simon to come get something from her room and from next to him on the couch, Simon gets up to follow letting Wille know he’ll be back in just a moment. As he’s leaving, Sara puts on a holiday movie on the television for background noise.

“Is this okay? She asks, reaching for a cookie and he nods, looking over at the place Simon disappeared to before checking the TV in disinterest.

Sara is on her phone, barely paying attention to the screen and Wille takes the opportunity to fish out his phone as well and go through until he finds his brother's messages.

He reads the last line again and his eyes burn slightly, running a hand through his hair his thumb hesitates over the keyboard and he thinks about what Simon said and knows he’s right.

He does know what he wants. But he’s afraid.

Simon has been looking up to him, why he’s not so sure, Simon believes in him, and thinks he’s much braver than he actually is, but Simon is right, Wille wants Erik back in his life, he’s been keeping him away for so long and the last thing he wants is to wake up one day and realize Erik is out of his life forever.

Letting out a quiet sigh he types a quick message, staring at it for nearly an entire minute before he hits send. 

Me

Merry Christmas 

Feeling anxiety prickling under his skin, he stuffs the phone back into his pocket knowing he won’t be looking at it anytime soon and tries to ignore the weight on it against his hip.

“What's up with you and Simon?”

Wille pauses, heart still racing from having sent that message, making it a moment before he realizes what Sara is referring to, he turns to face her and sees that she's still looking at the screen of her phone, scrolling,  “Huh?”

“You and Simon,” Sara repeats, as though it's the most obvious thing, “I haven't forgotten how you went out of your way to make sure we all got back okay from Stella's party last year.”

“We are friends Sara—”

“Bullshit.” She looks up from her phone, “I’ve known my brother long enough to know when he's crushing on someone.”

Wille raises an eyebrow and meets her serious gaze, “Sara, we are just friends…look…it’s not really my place to tell you, I would ask him, but….”

“Don’t hurt him.” Sara says suddenly, her expression clouding for a moment as she purses her lips, “Don’t lead him on if you don’t like him like that okay?”

Her words take him back and have him spiralling wondering what it is that she’s talking about, or where this is coming from. “Sara…we’ve talked. We are doing things on his terms—-”

“Don’t hurt him.”: The words are repeated and he sees now what he hadn’t quite noticed before, he isn’t really that good at reading Sara, but now he sees the concern and the worry in her brown eyes and in her voice and posture as she sits up straighter, looking at him. 

“I won’t.” Wille murmurs, “The last thing I would want to do is to hurt him…he’s…one of my closest friends. He’s so important to me. I’m taking that very seriously.” 

She stares at him, frowning softly. There is a noise outside of the TV room and they both look over to see Simon headed towards them, Before he is within earshot she looks back to her phone, but Wille hears the murmured words she speaks under her breath.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing.”

Chapter Text

Simon finds Wille asleep on the couch when he rejoins the two of them in the TV room. His sister is on her phone, just on her way out when he steps into the doorway. Sara just gives him a shrug when he asks about it.

“I looked over and he was just out.” She murmurs as she twirls a lock of her wavy hair, “You two are really cosy. Do you like him?” 

Ever unflinchingly direct, Sara’s words are not ones he hasn’t heard before, but somehow he doesn't want to vehemently deny them. It feels like he’s always doing that every time he’s asked and honestly, he’s just tired of it. “Sara…” 

Observant eyes look him over, nearly the exact shade of brown as his. Simon has always taken more after their mother in looks, while Sara favours their late father, but their eyes have the same quality to them and hers are heavy on him at the moment.

“Of course, I like him, Sara. He’s…my best friend.”

Pursing her lips a bit, her voice lowered to a hush so as to not wake Wille, dozing on the couch she takes a step toward him, “Best friends don’t usually fuck each other regularly Simon.”

“How did you—”

She crosses her arms and looks uncomfortable while he raises an eyebrow, speaking slowly, “ How did you know Sara?”

“You’re the one who gave me a key to your place. Remember how I crashed there last weekend when I came into the city?”

All at once he feels the blood drain from his face, eyes widening, “Sara you said you got in at like 3 in the morning when we were already asleep!” His neck feels hot knowing that his older sister most likely heard the absolutely raunchy shit they had been doing that night when they had believed they were the only ones in the apartment.

“Yeah. I actually got there much earlier. And then I left before you woke up because I didn't really know what to say.”

Running his hands over his face he lets out a low groan, “Look…Wille and I…we are still just friends. We are just having fun right now. Plenty of people sleep around with their friends, it's not a big deal.”

“But do you sleep around with your friends Simon?” 

He frowns, feeling a stab of annoyance at her calling him out like this, as though he’s a child who doesn’t understand what he is doing. The two of them have somewhat of a complicated history together and often have a hard time understanding each other's points of view. Simon tries to take that into account whenever she says things that rub him the wrong way, but it’s frustrating in this context. He’s a fucking adult, and it’s so annoying how everyone in his life keeps telling him that they don't think what he is doing is a good idea, or acting like they are worried about him when it was his decision and the terms that he set. 

“Sara. It’s fine okay. We both understand what this is.”

“I just don’t—”

“Stop it.” He says finally, making her realize how serious he is. “You don’t have to understand it, but it’s frankly not really your business who I am sleeping with or why, okay?” He bites his tongue, holding back the poisonous things he knows would hurt her if he said them out loud. They are things he shouldn’t be mad at her for any longer, but sometimes he wishes he could, just to get them out of his system.

His sister draws up a little and Simon sees a flash of hurt in her expression. It pulls out a twinge of guilt from somewhere in his chest and after a beat he sighs, “I’m sorry if that sounded meaner than I intended it to…but please Sara just trust that I know my limits okay?”

Judging by the twitch of her lips and the way it looks as though she is physically holding herself back from responding, he knows that she has a lot more to say. Thankfully she refrains and finally just nods and simply says “Okay.”

She sighs and then steps forward to hug him, “I just care about you.” And Simon knows she means well, but the sentiment still bothers him. Still, he’s tired and unwilling to fight tonight, especially now, so he just hugs her back tightly before dropping his arms when she pulls away. 

“See you tomorrow.” There's a small, hopeful smile on her lips and he nods, mirroring the expression. “See you. I promised Mamma I would help put breakfast together, so I’ll see you then.” And then in Spanish, he murmurs, “ Te amo .”

“I love you too.” she replies in Swedish, and squeezes his forearm, “Merry almost Christmas Eve.”

“Merry almost Christmas Eve,” Simon repeats, watching as she pulls away from him and heads down to the hallway where her room lies further inside the house.

Simon then turns to Wille, looking over his peaceful-looking form. He’s half curled on the couch, breathing softly. It almost feels rude to wake him, but he’s still wearing his day clothes, and Simon knows he will want to freshen up and get changed before bed. Crossing the few steps over to where he's lying, Simon crouches down, running a hand over Wille’s arm and shaking it gently,  “Hey,” he murmurs studying his face to watch for any shift in his expression.

“Wille…” He tries once more.

After a short moment, the other man makes a soft sound, still caught in the depths of sleep, just beginning to become conscious, and slowly his eyes open, brown and soft and sleepy. They stay trained on Simon for a moment, making him slightly warm on the back of his neck.

“Simon hi.”

“Hi.” He tries to ignore the soft, sleep-affected way he murmurs his name, the way it sounds, and the gentleness he speaks it with.

Looking around in confusion, Wille pushes himself up slightly onto one elbow, rubbing his eyes. 

“Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” he says softly, a smile finding its way onto his lips. He can’t help it really. Wille has a gentle charm about him like this when he’s sleepy. Simon stifles a soft laugh as he peers around, hair sticking up at all angles. Wille then yawns, stretching out a bit before peeling himself off of the sofa.

They go back to his bedroom, Simon watching in endeared amusement as Wille stumbles around, yawning as he prepares for sleep. It’s strange to see him here in his teenage bedroom, it does something gooey and melty to his heart and he finds it hard to take his eyes off of him as he rummages through his messily packed bag, muttering under his breath, a look of concentration on his face and his brow knotted as her mutters under his breath until he makes a noise of satisfaction pulling out the soft sleep shirt from somewhere underneath everything else.

However, when Wille pulls off the sweater he’s wearing, drops it into his bag, and bends over to rummage for his sleep shirt, Simon feels suddenly like he should look away, feels warmth on his cheeks as his eyes scan over Wille’s pale skin. He’s not sure why it feels so intimate to see him undressing in his teenage bedroom, but he finds that it’s hard to take his eyes off the slope and definition of his shoulders, the curve of his neck, and how the skin grows paler further down his chest all the way to the slight dip in his sternum. The way the dark ink of his shoulder tattoo stands out severely against his skin. 

And since he can’t really look away, he allows himself a moment to study the bend of his spine and the twist of his torso when he leans down to grab something else from out of his bag. With the way his back is turned to him, Simon can’t quite stop his gaze from following the way the lines of his lilac crest disappear into the band of the jeans he’s still wearing.

And then, Wille straightens again, moving to pull the shirt over his head, a little ungracefully as his limbs fight to break free. Then he turns, catching Simon staring and blinking, smoothing the shirt down and tilting his head towards him in a curious expression.

Simon feels the back of his neck grow warm, flushing as he looks away the moment he sees the intrigued smirk of amusement that follows once Wille realizes what he has been doing. 

“You know…” He hears the man say from behind him as Simon pretends to be busy with setting up his phone charger and plugging in his mobile, leaving it face down on the desk. 

“It’s kind of….hot being in your room, sleeping together in your bed..” 

“Oh?” He plays dumb as though he also hasn’t been thinking about the same thing since the moment they had set their things down as if he hadn’t just been ogling him with the same exact thought as soon as they came back here.

“Yeah.” Wille’s leaning against his desk now, watching him in the dim red lighting of his old bedside lamp, “What kind of things did you use to think about? In High School? Back when you still lived here…”

Simon had spent many nights as a teenager in this bed, fantasizing about different sexual experiences he hadn’t yet partaken in. Sometimes he would imagine some famous face, sometimes he thought about the boys he found attractive at his school, sometimes his mind conjured some faceless nonexistent lover.

“I don’t know…I guess I was just like any other horny teenager…why what about you?”

Wille laughs softly, running his fingers through his mussed-up hair, “Yeah I thought a lot about sex back then  I’m not going to lie. Sometimes about some of the people at school and—“

“Did you ever think about me?” Feeling emboldened by the intense way Wille’s eyes are watching him the words slip out before he really has time to stop them and he hopes that maybe Wille takes it as him joking. but he sees the way the other's eyes seem to sharpen and feels the heat that flares in response to the look in his own stomach. It’s the same look that reminds him of when Wille is inside of him, when Simon is commanding his whole attention and they are both oblivious to anything that isn't between them. 

“I’d be lying if I said no.” 

The words make him want to die a little inside, everything turning hot and molten and hazy. Simon has to take a moment to take a breath as he looks up at the taller man, fingers twisting the hem of his shirt. “What did you think about?” 

There's a hush between them as Wille steps closer and reaches out to run his hands down his arms.

“Me touching you, you touching me…your mouth…you always had the prettiest lips. I loved to watch you sing in the choir.”

“Oh hell Wille…“ Simon murmurs suddenly, feeling the heat in the room increase and his blood rush in his ears, loud enough that he’s sure Wille must also hear it. To know that the other had been thinking of him this way, even back then? That he could have been the object of someone like Wilhelm Cronstedt’s fantasy when they had barely spoken to each other turns him on in a way he didn’t even realize something like that would. 

Wille’s hands slip over clothed hips, massaging into the bone before they ghost further down, stroking over his hardening cock in his soft sweatpants and Simon makes a strangled sound closing his eyes as the hand cups over him and applies the barest amount of pressure.

“If you could act out a teenage fantasy of yours right now what would it be?” Wille bends over him, curling into him, lips against his earlobe and soft enough to send a shiver over the skin of his neck. 

It must be the heady and ridiculously horny energy between them that gives Simon the confidence to not even be embarrassed when he purposefully bites his lip, looking up at him coyly through his lashes, “I’d suck you off in my bed….”

Wille smirks a bit, hand slipping over to the swell of his ass and pulling him closer so that their hips press into each other and so that he can feel Wille against him. Breathing out shakily he licks his lips and meets his gaze. “What about you?”

His friend makes a contemplative sound as though he’s actually thinking it over and Simon looks up to see the exaggerated expression that makes him chuckle, feeling at ease and comfortable even with Wile’s arms essentially bracketing him in place between the desk and his body. 

“Well.” Wille says playfully squeezing at Simon’s ass through his thin sleep pants, “Having your lips on my cock in your bed is an image that’s really doing it for me.” 

“Yeah?” He can’t help the way the words make his heart skip a beat and his lips pull into a playful smile. Simon likes to feel wanted and desired and Wille always knows just how to say what he wants to hear and dissuade his insecurities or feelings of inadequacy. Like a moth to a flame, he follows him as Wille gently pulls him by his wrists towards the bed, smoothing circular patterns into the sensitive skin with his thumbs.

Wille is just so good . 

But he can also be a little shit. 

As if to illustrate this point, Wille grabs him by his sides, which he knows are extra ticklish and Simon lets out a loud embarrassing squeal, slapping his hands over his mouth, eyes wide as he looks to the doorway. 

However, Wille just laughs, dropping his face into his shoulder and Simon hits him gently, taking a moment to let his racing heart calm down before he’s laughing as well, “You know the walls aren’t that thick here okay? What are you thinking?”

“Sorry,” The smile he gets in return is completely unabashed and charming and Simon rolls his eyes pushing at his friend until they fall into the bed, tangled around one another until Wille leans up to kiss his jaw with a chuckle that vibrates over his skin, through his bone and into his chest, where it squeezes him tight.

Filled with that sudden emotion, Simon pulls back to look at Wille, messy dirty blonde pressed into his lumpy pillowcase, watching him with a flirtatious smile, endearing in this incredibly intimate way that Simon is recognizing more and more as trust.

His heart does something strange and fluttering and Simon can’t believe after all these years and all those times laying awake here in this very spot, wondering if he would ever get to experience the things he thought about, fantasized about, that he one day would be here like this with Wilhelm Cronstedt. 

The expression on Wille’s face softens and Simon is almost surprised when he speaks, “We don’t have to do that you know. We don’t have to do anything.”

He realizes he’s been watching him for maybe longer than is normal and blinks, shaking his head clear, “No…no I was just thinking about how odd it is that we met not even thirty minutes from here….and now we’re back here.”

“It’s weird if you think about it I guess, I was living here for three years and we didn’t meet again until we were both in Stockholm.” 

It’s funny how life works like that, how it brings people in and out of your life. He thinks about seeing Wille that first day in the office when he had felt so insecure and bitter about the way his life was going, how it felt as though it was unspooling just as he had tried to catch it. “Yeah…working in the same office isn’t that crazy.”

Simon still feels that way, that he’s a little lost. He still wants his music back, to feel what he did when it was his whole world. But Wille had done something for him that maybe he wouldn't really understand in its actual scope, he had sparked that passion once more, had made Simon fight the darkness in his own mind to try and find that passion again. 

He expects Wille to laugh but there’s a strange look that passes over his features and he goes quiet for a moment as though he wants to say something, but by coincidence, Simon opens his mouth at the same time and Wille’s cheeks flush rose. 

“Sorry, what were you going to say?” Simon apologizes, watching as the other man shakes his head.

“No, you go say it first”

“I was just going to say that talking about all of this isn’t not doing it for me, but I can think of something I’d like to do to you that doesn’t require talking at all.”

They don’t actually end up getting to what Wille had to say because that’s the moment he reaches for Simon and pulls him in a deep and searing kiss that will surely leave a lasting imprint on him for the near future.

After Simon makes good on his earlier statement, Wille is blissed out, eyes closed, a hand loosely curled in Simon's hair, who himself rests on his friend's stomach, peering up at him and watching as Wille lazily twirls one of his curls between his fingers. Eyes slipping from his face to his chest and his stomach, following the rise and fall of his steady breath.

One would think that after giving a fairly expert blow job that had the other person practically on the verge of waking up the entire house, he would feel even more confident and sexy, but after Wille had come and then offered to return the favour Simon had realized that he didn’t really want to do anything else tonight.

Wille hadn’t questioned him or pushed him about it, but now Simon himself is confused by his own reaction, because why . 

Obviously, he wants Wille and he wants to be wanted by him, so theoretically he should take every opportunity he can get while he still can right? When he had shaken his head and said he didn’t feel like it Wille hadn’t fought him at all on it, which isn’t really something he’s used to from the people he had dated in the past. It awakens something self-conscious in him, something that he’s been worried about ever since they first started this arrangement. That there’s something that he’s lacking and that eventually, Wille will tire of him. 

The voice in his head grows louder and louder until he feels that he has to ask him, to know for certain one way or the other. Simon takes a collecting breath and sits up suddenly, supporting himself on his elbows and looking down at him with a frown and a furrow to his brow, “Wille.”

His friend's eyes widen briefly and he turns his full attention up to where he’s looking over him. “Simon.”

“Do you think I’m boring?”

He sees the words reach the other and spread in confusion over his features, “Boring?”

Simon groans softly, closing his eyes and wondering why the hell he had decided to bring this up in the first place. He takes a moment, taking in a breath before opening his eyes again, “Like…in bed.” 

Wilhelm shifts, sitting up to look over so he can see him more clearly. 

“Simon what? Where is this coming from?”

“It’s just…you…you’re so experienced and confident and I’m realizing that I really…I haven’t really done that much.”

“First of all. You are so insanely far from boring I don’t know where you got that idea but I thought I was making it pretty clear that I am thoroughly enjoying everything we’ve done together.”

To his credit, Wille seems genuinely confused and as he continues to talk he becomes more and more incredulous.

“You’re not just saying that right?”

“No” Wille shakes his head, sitting up completely to give Simon his full attention, “I’m not and second of all… Please don’t feel pressured to do things you don’t like with me because you think that I want it. Please talk to me, if I ever do something you aren’t comfortable with—-“

This isn’t where he meant for the conversation to go, and it hadn’t been his intention when he had brought it up. The way he can tell Wille is nervous that he’s accidentally crossed some line or said something to spark this makes him realize that he really needs to explain himself further,  “That’s…no it’s more like…maybe I just feel like I’m boring…because I don’t know if I like certain things or not because I’ve never…tried them. Some of the things I know I don’t like…or I’m pretty confident I wouldn’t but there are things…I want to try. I just haven't.”

Wille considers him for a moment, “Well…like what? Can you share it with me?”

He recoils a bit as an immediate reaction, “Ugh never mind I should have never brought this up.”

But Wille doesn’t back down so easily and his voice is steady and calm, gentle even as he reaches forward and slots his hand over Simon’s on the mattress, “ Simon you can tell me. You know everything stays between us. You can tell me anything.”

Simon frowns, getting this wrinkle in his brow as he shakes his head, realizing that by opening up like this, naturally Wille would want to know and it’s fucking scary for some reason, to be this honest and say things that he can’t even admit out loud to himself, “Um…okay…well let’s start with a kind of basic one.”

God, why did he bring this up?

“I’ve never…” Simon looks to the ceiling, staring at the faint water stain from a leak years ago, the discolouration from where his glow-in-the-dark stars once had been peeled away pulling off the paint as well. He’s stalling, obviously, but Wille doesn’t push him or even say a word. He can just feel his thumb stroke over his hand, up his wrist and back, “God why is this awkward to say out loud? It’s not like I’m a virgin or anything.”

“It’s okay Simon. Take your time.”

It’s so stupid that he’s so hung up over admitting this. It’s almost embarrassing, being that he’s been openly and unapologetically gay since he was like fourteen and he feels like he should be more confident and versed in all of this. It makes him feel so strangely inadequate to know that he just isn’t and it’s so hard to admit it to Wille, who has spent less time being “out” than he has, and then to admit to himself that he had somehow thought it would mean that Simon knew more than him. 

Finally, he takes another deep breath and looks over at him, “It’s well ...there's a lot of things but I think the biggest one that bothers me is that…I’ve never topped before. It’s something I’ve always wanted to try, but…I feel like I’ve always gotten stuck in this specific role when it comes to sexual relationships…”

He chances a look at Wille, braced for shock or for Wille to tease him or even worse to diminish how important this conversation is to him, but he doesn’t. Of course, he doesn’t. Wille only nods and listens, squeezing his fingertips with his own.

Simon feels relief at the lack of reaction and then it’s easier, to talk, now that the big thing is already out, “I feel like I have to explain a little…it’s… well I was with this guy in my first year of university and like I was having penetrative sex already, not really that often but yeah I felt comfortable with being on bottoms but I felt like I wanted to try more you know? And I guess maybe the first red flag is that they didn’t seem so enthused about the idea…which made me second guess myself, but when we actually tried it…I was kind of nervous I guess…I don't know. I was worried about living up to expectations or just proving my own insecurities correct and I didn’t feel very comfortable. So I had some…issues.” He says meaningfully, hoping that Wille understands without him having to spell it out for him. It’s so so hard to talk about this and he feels like it’s something he never hears other men talk about, or see mentioned in discourse around sex and relationships.

It’s humiliating to think about and even now, knowing that it can happen, he can’t imagine that Wille had ever experienced something like it. It feels as though it’s always spoken about it as though it’s supposed to be easy for men isn’t it? To get hard or stay hard, but he had been all in his head, second-guessing everything and his then-boyfriend's annoyance and remarks had cut down into something vulnerable inside of him. 

After trying and finally having to give up, he can still remember how the other had gotten up, and announced he was going to take a shower before turning back to him and saying “ Look not everyone is vers okay? maybe you should just admit that you’re just a bottom hun.”

It had been so humiliating that Simon hadn’t tried it ever again, hadn’t even breached the topic with other partners.

“Simon…” Wille says after a moment once the other is sure he’s finished, “First of all…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that that person made you feel that way. Really. That was so shitty of them.” 

He shifts a bit and Simon can see a soft expression on his face, “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It happens. It happens a lot more often than people admit.”

Looking away, Simon finds himself pulling at the fraying strings of his old sheets and stares, “I doubt it happens to you.”

“Yeah, Simon. Me too.” He nods in earnest, scooting a little closer to him on the mattress.

“I’m not talking about when you’re drunk, I wasn’t even drinking that night.” The words are spoken in frustration, and he recognizes that he’s making assumptions, but he knows that Wille parties a lot and drinks a lot and it’s a fear of his that he is just saying this to make him feel better, or equating those two together as being the same. Everyone knows it doesn’t always work when you’re drunk, that’s not embarrassing. 

“No. Simon, it’s happened to me too, especially when I was just out of school and having a hard time with myself…well harder than I am these days at least, I felt like sex would help me deal with the things I was going through and sometimes it did, but sometimes I was so in my head that my body wouldn’t respond the way I wanted it to. It was embarrassing , I always felt like I was failing at something that's supposed to be all instinct. That I was supposed to be able to do without thinking about it.”

Finally, Simon looks up and meets his gaze and can see that he’s being honest and that maybe his own fears and anxieties aren’t so specific to him after all, “What if we try and it doesn’t…what if I can’t…”

Wille waits for him, but he stays quiet “Listen. We can just take it as it comes, you know? If you think it’s frustrating we can just try something else and see if it works later. We don’t have a time limit you know. We can just explore how it works, I don’t mind at all.”

“You’re vers right?” He finds himself asking and sees Wille nod, leaning his head into his hand.

“You don’t have a preference?”

The other man watches him for a moment and then smiles, “Honestly…not really? It’s kind of a combination of who I’m with, what feels right in the moment and how I’m feeling physically. It’s kind of like….mmm I think of it like a pie.”

Simon blinks, staring at him in confusion. “Sorry Wille but what the fuck does that mean?”

“I mean…do you like vanilla sauce on your apple pie?”

“Sure?”

“But do you ever just like eating the pie plain? Or maybe with whipped cream? What if you’re feeling indulgent and decide to eat it with ice cream? Maybe your friend makes a particularly delicious apple pie with an oat crumble crust that you always want to eat without anything on it because it’s just that good on its own. Maybe the person you’re sharing pie with only likes vanilla sauce and that’s all they have to serve you.” 

“I think I’m getting what you mean but….apple pie really?”

“What? do you like blueberry better?”

Simon snorts, pushing at him.

“I just mean…I can personally enjoy a pie in a lot of different ways. But it’s okay if other people like it one specific way too, it’s fine to have preferences. It’s the same with sex for me. Variation is fun, but in the end I still just like eating the pie because I think pie is delicious.”

Simon blinks at him,

“I’m never going to be able to think of apple pie the same way again.”

“Oh shut up. It’s just a metaphor.” He laughs brightly, grinning and running a hand over his face, before falling back against the mattress.

“So I guess…you’re up for the idea?” Simon nudges his side and then lays down next to him as well, between him and the wall.

 “Ohhhh honey .” Simon feels how the chuckle that comes from him vibrates through the mattress, “ I think we can make that happen. I very very very much would enjoy that. And like I said. There’s no pressure, okay?”

Simon isn’t sure why he feels so comfortable talking about this with Wille, it seems crazy that he’s far more comfortable with him than any of the guys he had dated. But somehow it also makes sense, precisely because they aren’t dating. He had always felt the need to live up to some kind of expectation in relationships, to make the other person happy and keep them satisfied with him, and with Wille, there is none of that pressure. They were friends before they started to sleep together so Wille has already seen the unfiltered him, has been in his nerdy bedroom in his apartment, has listened to him talk for hours on end about the first steps of composing a new song and the nuances of performance and music production, has played complicated board games and even watched anime because he suggested it to him.

He just doesn’t feel self-conscious being vulnerable with him this way either. Nervous, sure, most definitely, but afraid that Wille would treat him differently? Or stop talking to him because of it? No. 

Simon fights the smile on his cheeks, and lays back down, turning his face into Wille’s side, the soft T-shirt that smells like his cheap laundry detergent. Wille’s hands thread through his curls, carefully so as to not tangle them up.

He’s halfway asleep, dozing when he feels someone shaking him gently. “Simon.” He says, quiet but there’s something underlying in his voice, not quite urgency but when Simon blinks up at him blearily, realizing how uncomfortable he looks and how he looks down at him in apology.

“I really have to pee. Sorry. I tried to ignore it as long as I could.”

“Oh hell Wille I’m sorry. I’ve been keeping you trapped .” He says immediately, feeling guilty for falling asleep on him like this and rolling off of him carefully to avoid putting pressure on any of the wrong areas.

“It’s okay,” Wile murmurs, slipping out of the bed as soon as he’s free. Simon watches as his lean form disappears around the corner of the doorway, a dark shadow in the low light of his bedroom. His eyes flutter shut again and he almost feels as though he’s slipped under when there’s weight settling on the mattress and he feels Wille’s hand on his shoulder.

Opening an eye a crack he sighs softly, “What is it?”

Wille’s face is glowing slightly red in the light, shadowed and deep and different, but his eyes are wide in excitement and there’s a sense of pure wonder in his expression that has Simon opening his eyes fully with a building clearness, propping himself up on his elbow. “What?”

“Simon guess what day it is.”

He looks over at the old digital alarm on the desk and the face of the clock reads 0:02, glowing in the dark.

“It’s Christmas Eve.” Wille murmurs and then he goes over to the window. Simon sits up fully, watching in confusion as he opens the curtain which is really just an old bedsheet of Simon’s form when he was much younger.

And then he sees.

It’s snowing, hard, coming down in thick flurries of delicate white. It speckles across the black of the night like drops of paint on a monochrome canvas, and Simon feels the sharp intake of breath he makes in surprise as the view fills his vision. The leftover snow has been covered in a fresh coat of ivory and it sparkles back at him, peaceful and beautiful and suddenly he understands how Wille can Love This so much when the other man looks back at him with almost childlike wonder in his face.

Simon gets out of bed, knowing exactly what they need to do and Wille looks at him in confusion at first, before he’s practically throwing a thick pair of socks at his friend, “Well hurry up then.” 

Simon leaves the room to creep quietly down the hall to the closet where his winter jacket and shoes are. Wille follows behind him, a quiet shadow figure in the hallway and for some reason, he feels a thrill of excitement, a rush like they are sneaking around and doing something they shouldn’t be when in reality there’s no one who is actually going to tell them what they can and cannot do.

Once they are bundled up enough against the freezing weather, Simon takes Wille through the door, “Careful of the step—-“ just as he’s warning him of the steps that he knows are particularly dangerous when iced over and that he’s fallen down plenty of times himself in the winter, Wille slips and Simon has to reach out and grab him before he falls.

“Let me guess you were warning me about the step.” Wille laughs, gripping onto Simon’s forearm as He rights himself and Simon shakes his head in amusement.

“I busted my ass on these plenty of times,” Simon remarks and he turns back.

They move quietly out into the field behind his house, steps hushed by the snow. The world seems so quiet that it could be only the two of them that exist for all he knows standing out here in the silence and the inky black and white lace of a winter night. 

And then suddenly, shattering the quiet and hushed peace that lays over their vicinity Wille charges forward, brimming with a bright infectious joy as he spins a bit in the snow and looks back at Simon with the widest grin he's ever seen. Simon watches as he runs around a bit, feeling torn between wanting to join him and just enjoying the picture he makes running against the dark backdrop of snow flurries. 

“Admit it, Simon!” He calls across the distance between them, waving at him. “Snow is amazing!”

Simon has to laugh, Wille looks so ridiculous in his sweatpants and the jacket he had hastily pulled on and boots that aren’t even laced up. He’s wearing a fluffy hat that is most definitely his sister Sara’s, purple with a fluffy pom pom at the top.

“Admit it!” Wille calls again and then he’s charging at him and Simon’s eyes widen, scrambling away and running in the opposite direction a wild laugh caught in his chest escapes him breathlessly when Wille runs squarely into him, arm around his waist nearly toppling them both to the ground.

“What the fuck Wille!” He shrieks, pushing at the other who is laughing now without abandon. “How old are you?”

“You’re never too old to play in the snow, Simon.” He turns to catch the other's expression, altogether too mischievous and wicked for his taste before Wille in a move that’s too quick to predict, drops down and grabs a handful of snow dumping it over his head.

“Hey!” 

It doesn’t change much, the snow is coming down around them so heavy that his beanie is already coated in the stuff and a layer has found itself trapped in all of the folds of his jacket, collecting in the hood that he has pulled off. But it’s the principle and Wille deserves just as good back so Simon bends down quickly grabbing a handful of the cold, powdery snow that sticks to his bare fingers, packing it into a ball and throwing it at him.

It ends up being thrown harder than he intended because it catches Wille on his cheek with a hard-sounding smack and the other reels back a bit, covering his cheek with his hand.

“Oh fuck!” Simon gasps, shaking off the cold wet remnants of snow on his fingers and rushing over to where Wille is still holding his cheek, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you in the face.” He brushes the other hand aside to gauge the damage if any.

“It’s okay Simon, It’s fine I deserved it for being a little shit.” There’s an amused chuckle in Wille’s voice but he ignores him looking over the pale expanse of his cheek, freckled with the faint constellation of acne scars.  The only evidence that it had probably stung is the slightly reddish colour that’s bloomed like a crescent over the top of his cheekbone, Simon traces it worriedly with his fingertips feeling awful for hurting him.

Wille shivers a bit when his cold fingertips touch his skin, which doesn’t really make sense since his face is just as cold but then Simon looks up to see the other staring at him and he realizes suddenly how close they are and how Wille previously brimming with energy has gone very still and quiet. 

He feels his heartbeat increase as a soft sound escapes him, letting his fingers fall from the other’s cheek. It almost seems like…if he didn’t know better he would think that this would be the moment like in a film, that he would lean up just that bit of distance and kiss him. Their lips would be cold against each other when they finally meet, and the snow would fall into their eyelashes and on the slope of their noses and he would slide his arms into the warmth of Wille’s and pull him close.

But that’s not…that’s not really what they are. And Simon isn’t sure that’s even something he wants. All of this is so much easier, so much less pressure knowing that they are friends before anything else and he just doesn’t know, the idea of what it could change scares him a lot so he takes a step back and tries to forget the image of him pulling Wille into every line and space of him. 

“I’m freezing.” The words fall a bit flat as he looks away from Wille’s expression and wraps his arms around himself instead of the other man as though he’s trying to substitute for warmth that is only imaginary. 

“Yeah.” There's a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently and he looks up to see Wille smile, the expression a little strange in the reflection of the snow.

It might be somewhat of a diversion tactic, but it’s true, the snow made everything wet and cold and they are both pale and shivery.

“Admit it though. Snow is beautiful.” Wille says, looking back out over the field with a wistful expression before tilting his head back and sticking out his tongue to collect the fat flakes that melt instantaneously on the tip of his tongue.

“I maybe could kind of understand why you like it.” He sighs in exaggeration looking away from Wille’s profile and trying to lighten the tension he feels that’s oddly settled around his ribcage.

“Let’s go back inside,” Wille murmurs after a moment and Simon can see how he shivers, how both of their sweatpants are blotted with wet spots from melted snow.

Once inside they take turns taking hot showers and change into new pairs of pyjama pants, hanging the others up on the heated towel rail in the bathroom to dry. 

They fit themselves into Simon’s small bed like puzzle pieces, too close to keep their limbs completely to themselves, but a wave of exhaustion keeps Simon from thinking too much of it, that and the way that there is something so comforting about feeling the rise and fall of Wille’s breathing that finally pulls him into a deep sleep, barely cognizant of the feeling of Wille’s fingers in his hair and tracing the baby curls at the nape of his neck. 

_____________________

He wakes up alone in his bed with a yawn as he stretches out his limbs the length of his mattress and rolls over to peer at the alarm clock. It’s still dark, but it’s nearly 9:30 a.m. and he curses, pulling himself out of bed and hastily stuffing his feet into his slippers as he tumbles out of his room and hurries down the corridor and into the kitchen to see his mother, Sara and Wille all sitting around the kitchen table, mugs of steaming coffee in their hands, bowls that have the remnants of creamy rice porridge topped with cinnamon and whipped cream, oranges and a half empty plate of his mothers cut, spiralled pan de jamón that she had made for the holiday.

There’s music playing on the satellite radio, his mother has it set to a Venezuelan station she likes and it suddenly strikes him how well Wille fits in here, at his kitchen table in conversation with his family, hands wrapped around an old IKEA mug with the faint sound of Latin pop in the background. 

He feels some of the panic ease out of his shoulders, although he does feel a little guilty for oversleeping after promising his mother he would help her with breakfast.

“Buenos dias mi amor, feliz navidad. ” His mother says brightly, standing up from the table and coming over to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before directing him to a chair and slipping into the kitchen to fix him a cup of coffee, returning to the table to set it in front of him and sit back down. 

“Wilhelm was so kind to get up and help me this morning,” Linda says lightly and when he looks over he sees the amusement in her eyes and the way Wille ducks his head.

“Nice of him to let you sleep in,” Sara remarks as she's peeling an orange and Linda laughs softly taking a sip from her own coffee.

“I didn’t mean to sleep in.” He says to the table, slightly flushed and then directs his attention to Wille who is spooning some scrambled eggs onto his plate, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Wille shrugs, “You looked really comfortable, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

It’s so casually said, and Simon sees the look his mother and sister give each other over their mugs. Normally he’d probably feel incredibly embarrassed at their speculations, but for some reason, he just doesn’t. His gaze lingers on him a moment as he sees him take out his phone, a frown on his lips and a crease in his brow that strikes Simon as odd. He almost asks him about it before his sister taps him on the arm.

“Felice said she wants to video chat with everyone before we go to bed,” Sara says as she reaches for another slice of pan de jamón from the plate Wille has pushed to the center of the table. 

“Oh, that sounds good,” Simon murmurs, closing his eyes and taking a long sip of the coffee as he looks over at Wille who is nodding along.

“Good morning,” Wille says, altogether too energetic for the fact that they were both awake until past 1 a.m. that morning. All traces of the odd expression have disappeared, which puts him more at ease. It was most likely a reaction to something crazy Nils had said in their group chat. Simon has seen first-hand how he has the ability to always say something that is both completely unhinged, but also incredibly wise, or at least passes as wise. Simon isn’t so sure, but the one thing that is very clear is that it’s never a dull conversation. 

Wille passes him the plate of sweet and savoury pastry, before rolling over a clementine to him which Simon scrambles to catch before hair falls off the table, causing his friend to chuckle. 

“You boys were up late.” Simon freezes as Sara speaks, sipping at her coffee and looking over the rim at both of them. He coughs as she makes eye contact with him, wondering exactly what she could have heard. 

“It snowed last night again,” Wille says a smile on the corners of his lips that Simon recognizes as the one he uses to distract or divert the conversation.

“That’s right it did.” Linda chimes in as she stands to take her plate and some other dishes to the kitchen sink, coming back to refill Wille’s coffee cup while smiling beautifically at him and reaching out to squeeze his shoulder, Simon can practically see the flush on the back of his neck at the attention. “And it looks just lovely outside doesn’t it.”

Last night after she had called him into her bedroom to help her out with wrapping Sara’s gift, his mother had gone on and on about how much she just loved Wille and how sweet and kind and good-looking he was and Simon very much got the impression she was trying to put out some feelers to see how Simon felt about him, whether or not he saw him as more than a friend.

Simon had deflected most of the questions but even now he can see the look she gives him when Wille absently reaches over to peel Simon’s clementine for him as he’s eating his bowl of porridge, the intrigued kind of rise of her eyebrows and the look she and Sara give each other.

God he is never going to live this down.

Once it gets a little too much for him he sets his spoon down, causing everyone to look at him, “So what’s the plan today?” He asks, despite already knowing the answer.

“Well, I thought you three could go to the Christmas market in the square and take a look at the booths and see if there’s anything of interest and then we need to be back here around one to start preparing. The hallacas have been defrosting in the refrigerator overnight so we will need to boil them a little before Marwa arrives with Ahmed and all the others.” His mother begins to whisk the empty plates off of the table and then she turns to Wille, “They will be here sometime after three, right after Kalle and then we will eat around four. We usually exchange gifts after they leave just so you know.”

Simon thinks of the refrigerator bursting at the seams with all the food, and the large tray of chicken and beef hallacas his mother had prepared with Sara before he and Wille arrived, l everything they had made is completely okay for Ayub’s family to eat, the only exception the pan de jamón which is why she is serving it now. He takes a bite of the sweet bread, feeling the burst of salt from the olives, a taste he associates so much with the Christmas holiday growing up in his family.

“That sounds good to me.” Wille murmurs looking over at him, “We can take my car into town.”

_____________________

If he’s being honest part of the reason his mother had suggested that they go to the market in town is because he had made a plea for her to let them out so he could actually manage to buy Wille a Christmas gift.

He feels terrible that this is so last minute, but the gift he had been working on is still unfinished and he’d lost his nerve the day before driving out here. 

Simon knows the song he’s written is nice, but it’s not perfect. It’s the first thing he’s written since taking a break from music and he feels rusty and awkward and still slightly disconnected to the creative side of him that used to be so easy to draw from.

Originally he had wanted to give Wille the song as a gift, as a thank you for everything he’s done and how he’s supported him, but the night before coming here he had read over the lyrics again, realizing just how it could come off to him. The song is, plainly speaking, more romantic than he had realized, even though it’s not quite finished. Even though Wille had been the inspiration for it, it doesn’t necessarily reflect how he feels about him. It was everything that just came to him from out of the fog, that night the other man had walked him to the station and let him borrow his sweater that he had coincidentally never asked for back. It’s still hung up in Simon’s closet. 

He had thought giving him the song would be such a great idea considering how much Wille liked his music and how often he listened to the small discography on his artist channel, but Simon had reread the lyrics he had been writing and panicked slightly, afraid that something that romantic might make Wille uncomfortable considering they were sleeping together. What if he took them as being personally about him and thought Simon was doing it as some grand gesture? What if it made things awkward between them?

He had spent too much time torturing himself over it, so in the end he decided to scrap the idea which made him feel part relieved and part disappointed in himself somehow because he’d been so inspired when he started working on that song and he wants to share that with his friend. It also leaves him in his current conundrum. 

That being that he doesn’t have a gift for Wille.

They take Wille’s car to the town square, having to park pretty far off as it seems many of the people in town had the same idea as them.

There are children running around the square which has been outfitted with rows of covered tables and festive decorations. Smoke curls up from stands selling grilled sausages and different sorts of foods. A small but steady trickle of people shuffle down the path bundled up for winter, carrying small trees and wreaths and little packages and parcels of all sizes.  Sara makes a beeline for a stand that sells knäck , sticky, toffee-like candy full of nuts and tough enough to break your teeth, Simon gravitates to the sugared almonds, buying a small paper bag and another to bring home to Linda, a shared favourite of theirs. He offers the bag of warm nuts to Wille who declines, looking around the stalls with interest. 

Half of the stalls are handicrafts, from small trinkets made from wood to beautiful hand-wrought silver jewellery. There are also plenty of homemade food gifts, special smoked reindeer sausages from Norrbotten, small batch traditional Julmust, all types of cheeses and a wide selection of jams and preserves from cloudberry to sea buckthorn all lined up in rustic-looking jars and handwritten labels. 

Simon notices Wille gravitating towards the jewellery, stopping to chat amicably with the woman who is manning the stall as she explains the wares to him. Simon watches as his eyes are drawn to a silver-looking ring, a little more delicate and feminine than some of the others that she had pulled forth to show him. 

“It looks kind of like a snowflake.” Wille muses, when Simon steps closer to him to inspect.

The ring itself is quite beautiful and simple, a thin band of silver that curves, the ends of the band make in a geometric shape that truly does look like a snowflake when pressed together. 

Wille looks at it a bit wistfully, turning it over in his palm, “I had a similar ring that I bought in my last year at Hillerska. I remember walking around in Södermalm during one holiday that I had come back to Stockholm and seeing it in the window of a jewellery store. I was kind of terrified to buy that kind of thing for myself, it felt too feminine and I felt self-conscious about it even though I really wanted to have it. I was really envious of people who had their ears pierced and wore jewellery and makeup and painted their nails. It always just looked like a fun way to express yourself.”

“Did you buy it in the end?” Simon asks, feeling sympathy for how uncomfortable Wille had felt back then. It almost seems unbelievable looking at how he dresses and expresses himself now and seems to fit so easily in his own skin and identity. 

“I wrestled with the idea for the whole vacation and finally on the very last day, I rushed to the store and bought it right before they closed. I wasn't actually confident enough to wear it at school, so I didn’t really wear it at all, it just sat in a drawer in my dorm room. A shame actually. It was a pretty ring.”

“Do you still have it?” Simon asks curiously and sees Wille shake his head, looking over at him with a sad smile and a mournful look in his brown eyes, “It was one of the things I never got back after getting kicked out. My mother probably threw it away.” 

It makes him sick to think about, it might be small, but knowing it was something that Wille had fought to build the courage to buy, to dare to break the binary way that society tends to place people, to be able to express himself in the way he wanted. To know he hadn’t felt comfortable or supported enough to actually even wear the ring and then knowing his mother had probably only seen it as a negative thing. He frowns, shaking his head and looking at the ring in Wille’s palm.

“Are you going to get it?” He asks, the thought already taking root.

Wille shakes his head, humming thoughtfully, the sound slightly introspective, “Nah. I have a lot of jewellery now.” As if to emphasize he gestures to the studs and half-moon dangling from a chain from his right ear. He then looks up at the stall owner, who gives him a little smile, “But it is very beautiful.”

Simon knows that maybe he won’t want more jewellery, but he knows what he’s going to buy him for Christmas now, he wants Wille to have this ring. Even if he doesn’t actually end up wearing it, he wants to give that piece of himself back to him and let him reclaim it.

After meandering further a bit together Simon manages to pull Sara off to the side and ask her to take Wille and get him distracted so he can hurry back to the jewellery stand.

 The woman smiles knowingly at him when he returns and quickly packs the ring up in brown paper tying it up and tucking a sprig of evergreen into the string as he swishes the money from his phone to her account. 

“Merry Christmas.” She says cheerfully, smiling kindly as she hands it to him over the counter.

The package is light and small in his hand, but he hopes it will make Wille smile.

_________________________

Ayub’s family shows up almost right after Kalle Anka’s Jul is finishing up on SVT. Their parents spend a long time chatting and catching up, while Ayub and his two younger sisters join the rest of them in the TV room. 

Ayub’s family don’t celebrate Christmas but Christmas around his house isn’t so much about religion as it is just a time to spend time with family and friends. Ayub is agnostic more than anything and Simon himself can’t say he’s ever felt very attached to religion as much as he is attached to the tradition of it all and feels as though it’s something that has roots in his family back in Venezuela who are quite devoted Catholics. 

Wille had told him before that his family was quite religious and active within the church and that he had grown up with faith as a big part of his childhood, or at least the image of it. Wille had made it sound as though he had definitely marked the difference between his parents words and their actions.

As predicted Ayub’s sisters, especially the youngest, are quite taken with Wille and have a lot of questions for him as they all sit around playing games, waiting to be called to the table.

“You’re wearing an earring,” Urfi points out with big eyes from where she’s attached to Simon. “I didn’t know boys wore earrings.”

“What are you talking about Ayub has an earring?” Aisha, the sixteen-year-old, says rolling her eyes at her little sister before going back to her phone. Ayub sends Simon a slightly exasperated look that reminds him of when he complains about one of his students at work. 

“Oh! Yeah!” She giggles and Wille grins brightly at her, sending it swinging back and forth with a little shake of his head.

“Do you like it?” He asks and she nods shyly looking at him through dark bangs.

“Hey, you can’t steal my Urfi from me!” Simon says with exaggerated shock and hears the young girl giggle, when Wille gives her a teasing wink.

After dinner, which is a mix of different foods from a variety of family traditions, their parents stay at the table sharing tea and continuing their conversation from earlier while the rest of them retire to the TV room.

The four of them come together to video call Maddie and Rosh who are on an afternoon walk in New York City and turn the camera to show them the lights and storefront decorations. Rosh gives him and Ayub a little breakdown of their time in the city with Maddie’s family, which sounds chaotic but like an all-around good time. Linda and Ayub’s parents who are sipping tea at the kitchen table call them over when they realize who is on the phone and pass it around between the three of them to say hello.  

Shortly after Ayub and his family leave, and Wille and Simon hang around outside as his sisters and father bundle themselves into the car while their mothers hang on the front step in lingering conversation.

“So you aren’t bored out of your mind in Bjärstad yet Wille?” Ayub asks, tucking his hands into his pockets, hunched against the cold.

Wille grins, leaning against the painted brick, “No, it's been fun.” 

“Well you might be one of the only people who think that but I’m happy for you.” Ayub snorts.

“You’re not coming back with us to Stockholm are you?” Simon asks him when he steps forward to give his friend a hug, “I can’t remember if you decided to stay an extra day or not.”

“Nah I’m going to take the train back tomorrow night,” His friend says, “I’ll see you at home when you get back, we can have pizza for dinner.”

“We always have pizza for dinner.” Simon murmurs into his friend's jacket, which draws a chuckle out of Ayub as he pulls away, “Rosh would kick both of our heads in if they knew how often.”

“Yeah, and thats why we are the fun roommates. If they wanted us to eat better they wouldn't have left us to fend for ourselves.” 

The teasing words bring a smile to his face as he nods in agreement, “You’re so correct about that. It’s actually Rosh’s fault. We are just two bachelor gremlins trying to survive adulthood. Maddie probably cooks them all sorts of nutritionally balanced meals.”

“Two bachelor gremlins?” Ayub smirks, “I’m not so sure I would call you a—”

Simon pushes him, a little harder than he meant to and his friend has to catch his balance in the snow, his laughter forming clouds of condensation in the evening air. “Okay, maybe I’ll save the jokes for the group chat.”

“Have a safe trip back Ayub,” Wille says, taking a step forward at that moment, hopefully oblivious to his friend's teasing. He pulls his hands out of his pockets, where he is futilely trying to keep them warm and going to hug him as well.

“You too. Careful the roads can get pretty icy.”

“Yeah, I will be of course.” 

The two of them pull apart but Simon is already slowly inching towards the house, tempted by the warm-looking light in the windows. He hadn't felt like getting all bundled up to come outside to say goodbye, but he’s so cold at this point that he’s starting to shiver, “I love you Ayub, but I’m freezing so I’m going inside. See you back home soon.”

Ayub, in his thick winter coat and gloves, just waves at both of them and goes to join his family in the car.

Once their guests have left the Erikssons plus Wille gather in the living room to exchange their Christmas gifts. Simon had brought Sara back a new pair of riding gloves from a posh store in Stockholm she liked, while he had bought a gift set of nice soaps and lotions from L'occitane for his mother. The two of them had pitched in to buy him a new jacket 

Wille, who hadn’t had much time to prepare anything, had brought them both an assortment of postcards of a variety of some of his most popular digital artworks. 

Linda holds one of them up in order to better see the details and makes a surprised noise of awe, “Wow Wilhelm, this is amazing…”

Simon looks over at the particular card that she's holding and recognizes the picture from the Instagram account Wille uses officially to upload his works, link to his online shop and correspond about commissions and freelance jobs. When Simon had asked, Wille had mentioned this particular piece was a reflection of his struggles with anxiety, and after talking with him more he had learned that all of his works focused on the health struggles he's had with both his mind and body. 

His mother flips it over to read the description and meanwhile, Simon can better see the image on the card. 

It’s a side profile of a person, black like a void, featureless and without expression, surrounded by strange objects, some of which look like planetary rings, connecting to the person with spindly webbed fingers dripping with some kind of ominous look dark miasma. Simon doesn’t know enough about art to describe the style in proper terms that an artist would use or understand, but Wille’s style is distinct and when he looks at it he feels something suffocatingly poignant about it that he can’t quite put a finger on. 

“No…this is really quite good Wilhelm.” His mother repeats, “How did you do it?”

Wille kindly explains his process to her, including the hardware, the programs and tools he uses and his mother listens in interest, flipping through the small collection and then holding them close to her heart, “They really are so beautiful, I don't think I could have the heart to send them to anyone.”

“I would have done something more personalized as a gift.” His friend says apologetically, “But I didn’t have enough time to prepare anything.”

His mother shakes her head emphatically, looking a little embarrassed, “Please…really this is such a wonderful present. All I gave you was a pair of silly Christmas socks.”

The taller man grins, looking over at Simon and waggling his feet which are in fluffy socks patterned with bright red and white stripes and candy canes that have faces making garish expressions. “I love them. They are super cool Linda. Besides youre letting me stay here and eat your food, that's the best Christmas present of all.”

Inclining her head a bit, his mother gives him a faintly reassured smile and nods, “Well I’m just very happy you could join us this year.”

The smile he gives back to her is radiant.

“I didn’t even get anything for you.” Sara laments from her perch on the couch, looking regretful.

“Buy me a drink next time you're in the city.” Comes Wille’s answer as he leans back on his palms and looks over at Simon who is digging through the pillowcase they’ve been using as a makeshift “Santa’s” sack. 

Pulling out the small paper packet that had nearly gotten lost inside the fabric, he meets Wille’s gaze and pushes it towards him, feeling a bit nervous when his friend reaches out to take it from him. It’s true that Wille had said he didn’t need the ring, and Simon hopes he doesn’t feel strange about receiving it now, but there was just something wistful about the way he had turned it around in his hand and held it up to the light. Simon just wanted him to have it, because he’s a nice person who deserves nice things.

“This one is from me,” Simon murmurs, watching as Wille’s eyes scan over it in curiosity and as he carefully peels at the paper, pulling it back to unwrap the small object encased in bubble wrap, pulling it from the folds of plastic, shiny and gleaming under the light of the lamp in the TV room.

“I know you said you didn’t want to buy it.” He says quickly as an explanation, “But I wanted you to have it. I think it would look nice. It’s adjustable too, so it should fit.”

There’s a beat of quiet as Wille looks over it and as he closes his fingers over the metal. Simon watches, waiting with bated breath as Wille stares at it, his mind seeming to catch up slowly as he looks over at Simon with surprise in his gaze, “You didn’t have to do this.” Wille’s words are soft.

“It’s a pretty ring. I think it will look nice on you.” He replies, shrugging despite the warmth on his cheeks. His mother and sister are surprisingly quiet and he can practically feel their eyes fixated on him which he steadfastly ignores, “ I know you have a lot of jewellery, but I thought maybe getting the chance to wear it, even if it’s only once or something, might be nice.”

Wille’s smile is small and genuine as he bends the sides of the ring to adjust it for size until it fits snugly over his long finger. He lifts up his arm to the overhead light, splaying his fingers out to look at the new addition.

It fits wonderfully and Simon doesn’t regret buying it, even though it ended up as a last-minute gift. Wille’s expression is a mixture of surprise, but he looks happy, Simon knows him well enough to be sure of that.

“Thank you, Simon. I Love it, I really do.”

With a relieved sigh, he feels his shoulders relax when his friend looks over to smile at him, “I’m glad.”

“I do have a gift for you as well” Wille admits a bit cryptically, “But I can’t give it to you until we are back in Stockholm. Unfortunately, it was a little too big to fit in the car.”

Sara makes an intrigued noise from where she's sitting, “A surprise?” She says while reaching for a cookie from the tin that is sitting on the coffee table.

“Yeah, a surprise I guess you could say.”

“Oh?” Simon perks up in interest. Honestly, he hadn’t expected a gift, but he’s feeling a thrum of excitement at the prospect of something to look forward to once they’ve returned home. 

“That’s so thoughtful Wilhelm.” His mother says as she rises from the couch, placing her hand on his shoulder to give him a squeeze as she steps around him to collect the dirty mugs and take them to the kitchen, “I can’t wait to know what it is.”

As she leaves Simon leans toward him, “Are you going to give me a hint—”

Before he can get more out of him Wille is fishing out his phone, pointedly ignoring him as he shows him the caller ID on the screen, “Oh! Felice and Nisse are calling.”

Making a noise of frustration and pouting a bit, Simon leans back against the couch and sighs, “Really suspiciously convenient timing huh?”

From above him on the couch he hears Sara laugh and because she’s enjoying herself too much, he throws one of the pillows next to him on the floor back in her direction, feeling a little more than self-satisfied when he hears he make a soft squeak.

The video starts and Simon sees Wille’s face light up, “Felice, Nisse! Merry Christmas.”

"Merry Christmas love. ” He can hear Felice reply, her voice slightly tempered by what he’s guessing is alcohol.

“Hello, my favourite little twink!”

Simon coughs violently, okay that was definitely Nils. 

Wille is rolling his eyes, but there’s a grin on his lips, “Are you having fun?” He asks his friends, shifting so that he’s leaning against the couch, pulling his legs up and tucking his chin onto his knees.

“Sure if you call fielding arguments between your parents and steadily getting drunker and drunker fun.” Comes Felice’s sarcastic reply.

Nils sounds quite cheerful as he picks up from where she left off and Simon wonders briefly how he can talk so quickly without getting breathless.  “ Well, personally I’m having a gay old time as always. Fun is what you make of it I suppose and my relatives are quite pleasant as long as no one talks about religion or politics. Apparently, I have a girlfriend that couldn’t make it tonight which was a surprise to me. Mother says explaining the whole gay thing is too confusing for the family. And she’s probably right although I think some of them were actually more confused when I showed them a photo of Kylie Minogue. Mother wasn’t too pleased but if she’s going to invent a fake girlfriend then I at least want someone who I can worship. But the real question how is your little jaunt to the countryside all cosied up with our adorable little kitten?”

Oh, that’s another thing, Nils loves to give him nicknames, which never feel rude but are always a surprise, "Kitten"  is his recent favourite and even though Simon doesn’t really get it, he likes feeling like he’s been accepted by Wille’s friends. As over the top as Nils can be, he's a fiercely loyal person in Wille’s life and even if they don’t have that much in common he can appreciate the person Nils is. 

Wille laughs softly, shaking his head and looking up to catch his eye briefly, “I’m having a lot of fun, really it’s been so nice….it snowed last night—“

“Oh pretty”

“Sounds as peachy as a postcard. I’m sure you dragged Simon out to frolic, one of these days you’re going to catch hypothermia—“

“I’m not that reckless Nisse.” His voice reminds Simon slightly of a child that is tired of being nagged on the playground and the visual that his head supplies, makes him laugh softly as he wraps his arms around the back of his knees. 

“My point still stands, I'm glad you’re having fun baby. You deserve it.”

Simon swears he can see Wille visibly flush, ducking his head and running a hand through his messy hairstyle.

“He’s right.” Felice chimes in, “ You look happy and all smiley—speaking of where is Simon? Do we get to talk to him? Also, I want to see Sara!”

Looking a little embarrassed Wille looks over to Simon, “Uh he’s right here with me.”

“Ohhhhh, ” Nils cackles mischievously, “ Simon you better show your pretty little face—-“

Deciding it’s not a smart idea to delay any longer, Simon comes over to sit beside Wille against the couch, waving at the screen where the small squares that Felice and Nils peer out of. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Kitten!”

They chime in unison, which brings a grin to his face as he looks them over. Nils is wearing something surprisingly toned down for him, just a dark button-up and suit jacket and Felice is glammed up with a fierce evening look and a plunging neckline.

They talk a bit more before Sara crawls off of the couch, forcing herself between them so that she can have a clear view of the phone screen. From there the conversation quickly becomes dominated by the two girls, until Wille lets Sara have the phone and leans back against the couch to listen idly, drumming his fingertips against the floor. 

“Well loves.” Nils says after a few more minutes of conversation, “ I’m going back into the fray. Have a beautiful evening, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Well, that leaves a very broad range of options.” Felice deadpans which makes Simon laugh and look over at Wille who seems to be in a good mood, smiling fondly and shaking his head.

“Goodnight you two.”

“Goodnight love,” Felice says brightly and Nils gives them a final little wave as the three of them crowd in to say goodbye, smirking as his eyes go between Wille and himself. 

“Goodbye,” Sara adds, leaning on Simon’s shoulder and smiling as well at the screen once she and Felice have promised to catch up soon and talk about making plans for some weekend in the near future.

The room is quiet once they hang up, except for the soft sound of Christmas music that his mother had turned on earlier. 

“You’re going to come into the city soon?” Simon asks, peering down at her, seeing her nod absently. 

“Yeah, but don't worry I’ll make sure to confirm at least twice when I’ll be arriving so I don’t inconvenience you.” He catches the smirk that she gives him and feels his face flush hotly again, eyes widening slightly in disbelief that she's bringing this up with Wille right here.

After a moment Linda comes by as they are getting to their feet and picking up the various wrappings and trash from opening gifts, “That sounded like a very nice conversation, I’m glad you could talk to your friends.”

Wille nods happily and then looks at her and beyond into the kitchen, “Can I help you clean up? The three of us can finish up with everything so you can relax.”

His mother looks pleased, and Simon knows Wille is accumulating enough brownie points to last for several years at this rate, “Yeah mamma,” He agrees, “Why don’t you sit down, we can deal with all of the cleanup.”

She beams at them, giving them each a tight hug, and kissing her children on the cheek. When she gets to Wille she waits a bit for him to step into the embrace and then hugs him tightly, Simon catching the quiet Merry Christmas she murmurs in his ear. His friend seems less surprised and awkward with the physical affection as he had seemed to be when they first arrived and Simon says a small thank you to whoever is listening that his mother is the kind of person she is. 

The three of them divide the work between them once Linda disappears into her bedroom, and Simon can sense it, the way Wille stays close to him at his side while he dries the dishes that Simon washes. 

He feels Wille’s eyes on him the rest of the night and finally, after saying goodnight and Merry Christmas to his sister, he can still feel Wille’s eyes on him as the two of them slip past the laundry machine into his room.

They orbit each other, always close enough that if he wanted he could reach out and touch him, but just far enough away that it doesn’t feel like they are on top of each other.

“So…” Wille murmurs, “what we talked about yesterday.”

“Yeah?” Simon replies, alert now that it’s been spoken into being. He’s felt this energy between them all night, and he has been thinking about this, it’s hard not to, with Wille here, just within reach at all times, knowing that his attention is solely on him.

“It’s that something you’d be interested in trying?”

Simon looks back over his shoulder at him in interest,  “Tonight?”

Wille nods, “If you want. I mean…I wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s really something you want to do? You aren’t just agreeing on my behalf?” There isn’t much question that Wille wants to do this, but Simon wants to hear it in his own words and wants to know they are on the same page.

“Believe me Simon I’ve been thinking about it since you brought it up.” Wille murmurs, sliding his hands around his waist from behind and Simon relaxes back against him with a release of breath he didn’t realize he was holding, ghosting his fingertips over the soft skin of Wille’s forearms, the soft invisible hairs that stand on end when he touches light as a whisper. 

“You have?” He asks even though he knows he’s just fishing for more at this point, it’s something he doesn’t think he will ever tire of, hearing Wille admit how much he wants him.  

Wille tucks his chin in the dip between Simon’s neck and shoulder and he can feel his breath tickle the shell of his ear when he speaks, low, only for him even though they are alone. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, I kept looking at my watching and hoping time would go by quicker so we could be alone again.” His breath tickles the nape of Simon’s neck and he shivers, pleased to hear those words.

“We don’t have to do anything until you’re interested,” Wille continues, dropping the register of his voice so that Simon has to lean in slightly to hear him, “But…I really want you inside of me, I’ve thought about it so much, even before you told me what you did.”

That alone could light the fuse of something hot and molten in the core of him with the very vivid imagery that his mind is suddenly provided and Simon swallows, eyes fluttering shut as he leans back against his chest. He smoothes his fingers over the bones of his forearms, stroking downward and ending up wrapped around his wrists. “Wille…yeah..yeah me too.” 

Sharing that story and that experience with him had been big for Simon, and knowing they’d agreed to try this is a little nerve-wracking while also being exciting. 

After they had talked he’d been in his head at different points of the day wondering what it was that he was most worried about, what it was that had kept him from pursuing this after it had gone awry the first time, and he had come back to the conclusion that, yes he was afraid that his body wouldn’t work the way he wanted to, that he’d end up embarrassing himself and making things awkward between his partner,

But he’d never been able to be as open and honest with any of his exes the way he is with Wille, and somehow after talking it through it didn’t seem scary or like some big thing. He knows it’s something small, standard really when it comes to intimacy and there’s a small list of things he’d like to try if this works out, or if he ends up liking it.

The prospect is comforting because there just doesn’t feel like there’s any pressure to meet a certain standard or do things a certain way, and building from that he actually feels excitement around the whole thing, like he’s looking forward to trying it. Especially when, like right now, Wille seems interested, genuinely interested and not just because he’s trying to make Simon feel good. 

“I want that too.” He says honestly and then in a quieter voice because it’s always harder to ask directly for some reason but he’s slowly learning, “Can we try tonight?

He can feel the curve of Wille’s smile against his shoulder, through the thin fabric of his sweatshirt and the way his voice vibrates through the skin and bone and into every part of him, echoing through his body like a song that fills a hollow room when Wille simply says, 

“Please.”

_____________________

Simon takes a shower, lingering in his room while Wille slips out to take one as well. He changes into his pajama pants and hangs the damp towel over the doorHis curls are damp and limp at the nape of his neck. He knows Wille has brought lube and condoms, he very vividly remembers seeing him slip them back into his travel bag when they had left the office together two days prior. He considers going into his luggage to pull them out just so he has something to do with his nervous energy but decides that would be rude of him to just go digging through his friend's things like that.

Wille is gone longer than he thought he would be, wearing his loose thin sweatpants hung low on his hips, the weight of his mobile in the pocket pulling down, exposing one of his sharp hip bones and the lines that are halfway hidden under the band. He’s rubbing his hair dry with a towel with much less care than Simon has to take with his own, darker when it’s wet like this, pieces of it stuck to his forehead and his neck and then he slings the towel over his shoulder and shakes it loose and Simon catches a faint waft of his floral scented rose shampoo. He asked about it once, and apparently, Wille had bought it because it was the cheapest thing to find at the time, and then he ended up liking the scent so much that he just kept buying it. 

Wille must be aware that Simon is watching him, because he moves with a looseness to his movements, deeply relaxed and enticing as though he knows he’s on display. Simon has thought this before, many times even, but Wille really is beautiful.

He’s got this long, wiry quality to him and there’s definition in his body but it’s somehow both lean and soft, especially his stomach where he’s most narrow from the sides. In the low red lighting of his bedroom lamp, Simon can’t see the thin self-inflicted scars that look tight and shiny over his hips, but he knows they are there. Has thought about touching them to try to absorb any pain that remains imbued like tattoo ink in his skin. 

From the few things he knows, Simon feels that Wille's body and his heart have been through hell but his flaws make him endearingly human, a few pimples scattered over the back of his shoulders, moles and freckles that become more visible the longer Simon looks for them, the little dip in his breast bone that Simon has fantasized about running his tongue over where the sweat collects when he writhes and arches against the tight heat of Simon’s mouth. 

He feels as though his chest is being tightened and pulled together with string, in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant and the feeling only increases tenfold when the other man finally turns his head toward him and meets his gaze.

“Well…you want to come here?” Wille asks and Simon suddenly realizes their positions in the room. They have gravitated closer to one another, Wille turned toward him with his back to Simon’s bed and Simon just a few paces across from him. 

Simon feels a rush of desire pulse through him at the words, feeling more confident at the admission that Wille also wants the same, he pushes him back and Wille lets go immediately, Simon realises he might have read that wrong so he takes a step forward, a hand on the center of his chest, and Wille seems to understand, lips opening slightly, pink tongue running over them, his lips glisten in the red lamp light. His eyes are dark and trained on Simon intently as they walk backwards, only a few steps before the back of his knees hits the edge of the mattress.

At the pressure of his hand, Wille lowers himself onto the bed obediently, gaze never wavering from his own and Simon tries to calm his racing heart at the sight. He looks so, the word in his mind right now really is fuckable , like everything he would have dreamed of as a teenager and everything he didn’t realize he could have. 

Wille Stares up at him, waiting patiently, hanging on every touch and breath he takes as though every one of his senses has narrowed down to Simon, as though he’s the only person in the world. His hands resting on his hips, eyes on him, thumbs moving over his hip bones in a circular pattern and Simon doesn’t know he feels so seen like this. He feels wanted and desired but more than that he feels in control. And it’s not an uncomfortable feeling it feels empowering in a way that sends a heady rush through him.

He climbs into Wille’s lap and hears how his breath catches, feels his hands stroke up his sides, he draws his fingers in place beneath his chin, tilting his face upward to just take in all of this moment. The way the red of his lamp washes over Wille's pale, freckled skin, the hungry, wanting look in his eyes and the way his lips open only slightly, a soft breath escaping him when Simon tightens his fingers on his chin.

The power he feels is an intoxicant, the way Wille seems to be waiting for him seems to be tied to his command in this space. The way his eyes stay on his and how trusting he is as Simon slips his hand from his chin down to his neck, tracing the skin there and how it fits under his fingertips. He could make him sit still and wait like this all night if he wanted, he just knows it, and it is absolutely thrilling .

Maybe it should be frightening, if he’s being honest, and with anyone else it could be, but he’s told Wille more about himself than most people know, he’s let him see parts of himself that feel embarrassing and vulnerable. Even if he still remains guarded in many ways, it feels like a gateway, a beginning to something new and all of Simon’s fears and doubts still for a moment as he watches the way Wille follows him with his eyes. 

Simon bends in close to him, merely centimetres between them and tilts his head, still watching the other man. He can feel Wille’s breath against his lips, can see the flutter of his eyelashes when he blinks and the freckles smattered over the bridge of his nose. Wille makes a soft noise and he feels his hands tighten around his hips laughing softly in amusement at how patient he’s being despite it being obvious that it’s hard.

He’s testing his limits a bit, trying to see how much control the other will let him have over this moment and aside from the way Wille’s fingers twist into the fabric of his sweatpants on his hips.

The man is waiting for Simon, on Simon’s terms and if Simon had any reservations about trusting Wille with himself those seem to melt away right now, like some film being washed away from a surface of glass leaving it brilliant and transparent. Making him feel more transparent in a way.

They don’t kiss, but they seem content to just watch each other like this, and Simon finally after a long intoxicating moment runs his finger under his chin, tilting his face upward and leaning down to kiss him, to lick into him, slotting his lips over lips that are eager to meet him, hands that grip into the fabric over his ass. 

“Is this okay?” Simon asks after a moment, breathless and feeling the tightness in his stomach when Wille slips his fingers below the waistband of his sleep pants,

“Yeah…hell..you’re so hot . I can't wait to know what it feels like when you fuck me.”

Damn, this man and his filthy mouth. Simon doesn’t know how he’s going to survive this much less going all the way, what if he manages to get everything to work and then comes too quickly? With the way everything feels so heightened that suddenly seems like a possibility,  

But the noise that Wille makes When Simon's fingers tighten at the base of his damp hair pushes those thoughts away and their kissing turns almost brutal, hungry, blazing with desire.

“Do you want to be on your back?” Simon asks, still running through a checklist in his mind even though his thoughts are muddled with desire, “Or your knees?”

Wille smirks, “This is all about you tonight what do you want?”

“You’re as much part of this as I am.” Simon says, pulling back more seriously when he says next, “And I won’t be relaxed unless I know you’re enjoying it just as much,”

The other seems to pause and there’s a look of surprise that crosses his expression as though he’s just heard what he’s said, “Yeah You’re right.” Wille admits, slightly mollified, “I think maybe knees will be easier, I can use the wall as support, especially considering how tiny this bed is.”

Simon rolls his eyes mid-kiss, a sigh of exasperation escaping him, “Not you insulting my bed, anything would be small for you with your freakish limbs.”

“I’m not that tall Simon, you’re just short.” Another kiss to his bottom lip, a kiss to the corner of his mouth and a chuckle before their lips meet slickly once more. 

His thoughts empty again as Wille kisses him, tugging him to follow as he moves to the center of the bed. They wrap around each other and Simon meets him with his lips, down his chin and down the slope of his neck, hands tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants as the other wriggles a bit to get them off. He can feel him, hard and pressing against his leg and feel the breath he takes when Simon strokes his fingers over his side and curls around his hip.

“You brought lube and condoms right?” Simon has some of his own as well, but his bag seems so far away.

“It’s there on the desk.” Wille murmurs and he realizes that he must have pulled them out when he was distracted by staring at his naked torso.

With a slick hand, he reaches down to wrap his fingers around Wille’s cock, the noise that he makes in his ear going straight to his own as he strokes. 

When he reaches between him, where the ring of muscle is, he realizes, eyes widening as he looks up suddenly at Wille who is watching him with a teasing look in his eyes.

“So that's why you were taking so long in the shower.” He breathes, and the image of Wille touching himself, working himself open is so hot that he surges up to kiss him, drawing a surprised gasp from his lips.

“Maybe, but you can touch me too, I want to feel your fingers,” His friend murmurs in between kisses, gasping as Simon slides two fingers inside of him, exploratory and careful. He wants to know how Wille is different from him, if the things that feel good to Simon can also make Wille feel good as well.

Curling them forwards against the resistance he feels Wille arch upwards into his touch and so he repeats the motion, which pulls a broken sort of moan from his lips. 

“Is that good?” Simon asks, getting a distracted nod in response.

“Yeah, it does, right…yeah like that.” 

Simon looks up to see Wille close his eyes a furrow in his brow that he knows means he’s enjoying it too much to do much else than just react. 

Wille is patient with him as he explores these new places on his body, breathing tightly every time his fingers brush the sensitive part of him, fingers twisting into the sheets.

“You feel really good,” Simon admits, bending over him with a groan when he sees Wille wrap his hand around his cock which has flagged slightly since the start of all of this. He feels that soft puff of air when Wille chuckles softly into his hair.

“Every time you touch me there I feel like I’m dying.” Wille murmurs, “I want to know what your cock feels like.”

“Fuck…okay,..let’s move a bit.”

They adjust into a new position, Simon presses into him from behind, Wille on his knees, curved so that he’s watching him from over his shoulder. Simon pulls the condom on himself and returns in position, hands running up the length of his sides, hungrily devouring the way he looks like this, flushed and looking back at him, nestled into his pillow, eyes tracking his movements with a hungry look. Simon’s hands run over the swell of his ass, squeezing and shooting a small smirk at him when he hears the way his breath hitches.

“Are you okay?” He asks and Wille nods, closing his eyes momentarily before he looks back at him.

“I’m good. I want you so badly Simon. I need it.”

The words send something thick and syrupy sliding hot into his core and he breathes out shakily, looking from his face to where his own cock is pushed up against his body. He’s nervous for a moment, but it’s only briefly before he hears Wille call his name softly. Simon looks up to meet his open gaze, trusting and non-judgmental and it eases the final piece of tension he’s holding as he finally finally pushes inside of him, carefully, slowly, and fascinated at the way he gradually disappears into the other's body. Fascinated by the expressions that flicker over Wille’s features, the way his breath catches and the way his fingers twist into Simon’s sheets.

The feeling of having him around his cock, like they are extensions of one another, the way he can feel everything so intensely, it’s almost overwhelming. Simon hisses and screws up his features when Wille pushes back against him.

“Sorry…are you...are you okay?” The other says in a thick voice and Simon nods tightly. 

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s just…it feels… overwhelming . I just need a second otherwise I think this is going to be…very short-lived.”

Wille lets out a soft laugh but Simon waits for a moment, stroking his sides before he looks up at the ceiling and takes a breath, “Okay. Can I?”

“Please.” 

It’s like nothing he’s felt before. It’s tight and hot and feels like every part of him is being dragged further and further into a furnace. He tries to be careful, very conscious of what he’s doing. He’s trying to be controlled until Wille stretches back behind him to grab Simon’s hand with his own, pulling at it to bring Simon’s attention, hazy and overwhelmed as it is, back to him.

“Hey…just relax . I’m okay, you won’t hurt me.” Wille murmurs as Simon manages to look over to him. It’s the last piece of reassurement he needs to let go and just allow his body to exist and feel everything. His hips find their rhythm and now that’s he’s not thinking, a feeling of euphoria floods him. Simon tips his head back, a moan escaping through his body as the waves build close and closer and fuck he’s not going to last much longer.

Wille is shifting beneath him, rocking back to meet him, his breathing sharp and open in the room and when he looks down to see the other touching himself it’s all he needs before he’s coming, gripping at Wille’s hips while a noise he tries to stifle is ripped from his throat at the sudden intensity. 

He feels the other, from somewhere beyond himself, grow still and Simon, lets his forehead fall to Wille’s back, panting against his skin and feeling his heart race, jagged and fierce in his chest. 

“Are you okay?” Wille murmurs, still beneath him, reaching back to brush his fingertips over the hand thats still gripping at his hip. 

“Yeah.” He manages to breathe, wincing slightly as he pulls back, taking a moment to breathe and collect himself. Its a sharp moment that his senses begin to come back, that he can hear the low hum of the radiator and feel the air on his damp skin. Wille shifts as well, turning around so that he’s facing him and Simon can see where his lip is slightly red and swollen from where he’s been biting back sounds, much more successfully than himself at least.

Simon runs a hand through his damp curls, letting out a soft breath as he looks down, suddenly realizing that Wille is still hard. Flicking his eyes up to meet the others, “Can I?”

Wille lays back and nods, watching him as he pulls off the used condom, ties it together and throws it in the trash. “Make sure you dispose of that discreetly or your mother is going to find it.” Wille teases, pushing at his side gently with his foot, an arm behind his head, propping him up so he can see when Simon returns to him, sliding over his body and kissing the center of his chest, where it indents slightly, lovely and enticing. 

“Let's not bring my mother into this,”Simon complains, dipping his tongue into the spot, tasting the salt and musk of him and smirking against his skin when he feels his body react.

“I just don’t….want…” A soft gasp when Simon’s hands wrap around him, between his legs, “To scar her for life or something.”

“I’m not an idiot Wille,” Simon chuckles and leans up to kiss his jaw, grazing his teeth along the sharp edges, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Just making…sure.”

Simon kisses his lips then, licking deep into him as he slowly strokes him, feeling the other man's body tense up beneath him in that way Simon recognizes as him being close.

“I think I’m doing a pretty good job at the moment…” He murmurs, nipping gently at Wille’s upper lip hearing the frustrated groan that his friend lets escape.

“Yeah yeah I get it, can you just finish...fuck…what you started?” 

Simon laughs, easy, relaxed into the kiss and finally stops teasing him to turn his attention to giving him what he wants, sliding down his bed and shutting himself up.

_____________________

Later as they lay together, lazy and half asleep, he hears Wille make a thoughtful noise and opens his eyes to look at him.

“So first time topping.” Wille turns on his side, stretched out next to him and looking pleased with himself, “What did you think?”

Simon runs his hands into his hair and groans, closing his eyes and hiding his face in the mattress for a moment before turning to look at him, “It was so good,…I think…yeah, I need to do it again.” Simon realizes as he’s speaking that he had really enjoyed it more than he could have imagined and suddenly he’s hit with a thought, “Hell Wille, what if I’m actually a top?”

Wille laughs hard, the sound making Simon bristle slightly with indignation as he sits up to look at him, “Hey! I could be a top.”

“Of course you could that’s not why…” Wille tries to speak in between giggles, pressing his palm against his mouth and shaking his head, “That’s not why I’m laughing…it’s just you sounded so surprised and your eyes are all big and shiny…you’re just cute.”

Simon rolls said eyes and turns toward him, “I’m kind of kidding I think… but yeah. I’d really…really like to do that again if you enjoyed it.”

Wille makes a contented hum and nods, “I enjoyed it a lot, Simon.”

They lay there, quiet for a minute before Simon swallows the awkwardness he feels pushing up in his throat, “Hey Wille..”

“Mm?”

In comparison to the conversation the had earlier in this trip, in fact perhaps because of the rawness and vulnerability of that conversation, Simon feels so much more comfortable admitting this now, “I have like…some other things I want to try. Eventually…like there’s no real rush or anything but yeah…if you’d…like to try them with me.”

“Mmm like foodplay?”

He screws up his face, “What? No… wait is that something you like?”

“No? You don’t want to drizzle chocolate over me and eat whipped cream off my body?” His friend muses, voice soft and drowsy, but with a definite tone of amusement that makes Simon realize he’s teasing. 

He makes a face, relieved, “That just sounds kind of gross, no offence, and sticky…and messy…yeah no I don’t think that’s my thing. I mean for you I’d try it I guess, but we’d have to lay down a tarp or something—”

“Simon,” Wille laughs tiredly and Simon chances a look at him, relaxed and loose, cheek smushed against his outstretched arm. “I’m joking. It’s not something that's on my list of things that really do it for me.”

“I was thinking more like bondage and roleplay but the fact that your mind immediately went to whipped cream—“

The image of Wille dragging his tongue up his chest, licking away a cloud of white cream enters his mind and suddenly it doesn’t seem that weird anymore.

“Actually maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Well, let's put bringing food into the bed on the back burner. There’s a lot we can try together.” Wille murmurs, eyes looking heavy, “Sorry I can’t even keep my eyes open.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles snuggling back down into the covers, “Hey Wille…”

“Mm?”

“Merry Christmas.” He whispers, taking a deeply relaxed breath and closing his eyes just as he hears him answer in reply.

“Merry Christmas Simon.”

_____________________

The next day is spent lazily hanging around the house and eating leftovers with the TV on in the background, Wille offers to shovel the snow off the front walkway and afterwards, they take a long walk beyond Simon’s little industrial neighbourhood and beside snowy fields and down towards the lake that’s frozen over, but only in wet patches, not quite solid enough to walk across. Simon asks him if he’s interested in visiting the grounds of Hillerska, certainly empty over the break, and Wille looks at him like he’s grown a second head answering with a resounding no.

Upon returning Linda and Sara rope them into sitting at the coffee table in the TV room, with mugs of homemade hot chocolate to play cards. Linda pulls out a 40-card Spanish deck to play Truco , which they have to explain a few times to Wille before he gets it. 

They eat the rest of the Pan de Jamón with strong black coffee and graze-on polvorosas coated in powdered sugar and the saffron buns that Ayub’s family had brought over yesterday. Simon stuffs himself, but it isn’t until his mother makes a remark that he realizes Wille hasn’t really eaten that much tonight. He wonders briefly if it’s related to what he told him before, but his friend seems to be in such good spirits that he decides to let it go. 

They call their family in Venezuela to wish them a happy holiday and it’s a bit chaotic with all the cousins and uncles and aunties to say hello to and try and translate for Wille when the attention inevitably turns toward him. His aunties spend the rest of the call trying to decide if Wille is Sara or Simon’s boyfriend, which Simon firmly tells his sister not to translate, annoyed.  

By the time they move out of the TV room and back to Simon’s for bed, they are both exhausted and fall into bed, quickly falling asleep, pressed up next to one another. 

Wille is freshly showered and smells like his rose shampoo, Simon had always associated that smell with old ladies before, but for some reason mixed with the underlying smell of his skin and his detergent it’s so pleasant and relaxing and he falls asleep with the scent in his nose and the warmth of him pressed close as the fit somehow into his small bed. 

The next morning they pack their things together to return to Stockholm and his mother tearfully hugs him goodbye, making him promise to return and visit again, and he promises her he will, and knows he means it. Being here again isn’t as hard as he thought it would have been after finally escaping to the city. 

Sara promises to come visit him soon and he holds onto her a little longer than usual, murmuring a thank you in her hair before they let go of one another. 

The drive back is fun, for one he's more awake and Wille barely complains when he steals his phone and plays his music over the speaker, even when he plays several songs from anime he loves, loud frenetic Japanese pop rock that’s completely beyond the realm of things Wille knows. But the other never rolls his eyes or complains, he asks questions about the songs, remarks on things he finds interesting and sings along when Simon moves on to something he actually knows. 

“So tomorrow you have no plans right?” Wille asks looking over at him as they pass a sign that shows how many more kilometres until they reach the Stockholm city limits.

“No. I asked Ayub if he wanted to go check out a movie but he was weird about it.” He shrugs and Wille looks pleased which strikes him as a bit odd until he turns in his seat to look at him, “Why? Wait…did you plan something?”

His friend hums thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, “Maybe…remember how I told you I had a gift for you but I couldn’t bring it?”

The reminder of that particular piece of information has him turning in his seat to look at him, “Yeah?”

He sees the way Wille glances at him out of the corner of his eye, “Well then, meet me at T-Centralen at five pm tomorrow. And wear something semi-nice. I mean it doesn’t have to be like a suit but yeah.”

The words are vague and cryptic and send Simon’s mind into a tailspin trying to think of what on earth he could be alluding to, “What are we doing?”

“You’ll see.” The grin that spreads over Wille’s lips is far too satisfied than it has any right being when he is completely at a loss of what it could possibly be that they would need to meet at the central station and dress up for.

“Oh my god Wille tell me,” Simon whines a bit, trying to give him what he thinks is a very convincing and guilt-trippable look, but results in making the other just laugh and push his face away with the palm of his hand.

“Don’t you want it to be a surprise?” Wille asks, taking the exit onto the next bridge as Simon leans back in the seat and sighs.

“Fine…” he shrugs, pouting his lips and shaking his head trying to act annoyed even though he’s bursting inside with curiosity, “I’ll just wait I guess.”

It’s quiet for a while, the only sound the music playing from the speakers, some song Simon thinks he’s heard in Wille’s rotation before.

“Hey, Simon.” His friend’s voice is a bit quiet now and he looks over, giving him his full attention. Wille glances over at him and he can see the way he chews at his lip, can tell that whatever he’s about to say has been weighing on him.

“So, you remember how Erik messaged me?”

Oh .

“Yeah. I do…did he keep messaging? Are you okay? Did he—”

“I actually responded to him. For the first time.”

Surprised, he straightens and turns in the seat, reaching over to turn the music volume down so that he doesn’t miss anything the man has to say. “Wow, Wille…how did it feel? Did he write back?”

“You were right.” Wille murmurs, “I wanted to reach out to him…I really want to talk to him. So thanks for giving me a little bit of a push. I don’t know if I would have if you hadn’t talked me down.” 

“Of course…I just…if you want a relationship with your brother, I really want that for you too. So..then he responded?”

Wille nods and his tapping against the steering wheel becomes more irregular as though he’s using the sound to center his thoughts, “He did…he asked me how I was and said some other things, but I haven’t answered him yet. I will…I just wanted to have some time to think about what I want to say.”

“Wait when did you message him?”

“The same night he did.” His friend admits and Simon’s eyes widen slightly.

“Oh Wille I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about it, I was just distracted with all of the holiday stuff and—”

“No Simon,” Wille takes an exit following a sign with a name that Simon finally recognizes, “I didn’t want to bring it up with everything that was going on. Don’t worry…I just thought you should know. And um…I wanted to thank you again, for talking with me about it.”

“How do you feel?” Simon asks, feeling a rush of pride for the way that Wille had managed to do this, after so long of letting it sit complicated between them in the way it has been. But alongside that pride, he also feels worried that it won’t turn out the way Wille wants it to. Simon has had his fair share of difficult family relationships, and he knows sometimes it’s just not possible to fix things. 

Wille nods, taking a breath and looks over at him briefly, “I feel…good actually. I’m going to reply to him once I’ve kind of got my thoughts together like I said, but now that we’ve made contact, it somehow doesn’t feel so scary anymore?”

“That's great.” He murmurs, feeling glad that Wille seems so decided and calm about all of this. Simon nods and looks back to the road as they turn into his area, “Let me know how it goes okay?”

Wille nods again, flashing him a smile as he pulls up to his apartment building. Simon makes to collect his bag, twisting around to reach into the back to grab it off of the floor.

“Okay, so promise me 5 pm okay?” Wille says, drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel.

“Okay. Five pm. I don’t know why you’re being so cryptic, but don’t worry weirdo I’ll be there,” he grins as they hold each other’s gazes for a moment. 

“Thanks a lot for these past few days.” Simon says, feeling like it’s something he has to vocalize before they part ways, “I had a lot of fun. I haven’t been home in a while…. and I was a little nervous about it, but it was a lot of fun being there with you.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” The other says, “Honestly. It was the best Christmas I ever had. So….thanks a lot—“

Simon can’t stop himself from reaching over from his seat, stretching out to pull Wille into a hug wishing he could somehow transfer everything he wishes he could say and all the things he hopes for him in a single gesture.

“No…please…thank you for coming. It was really beautiful having you there with us.”

He pulls back to see Wille’s expression and the small smile slowly growing there as the man nods and leans back. “5 pm okay?”

“5 pm. I promise.”

Simon closes the door and takes a step back, standing on the curb and waving goodbye to his taillights as they disappear into the dark. 

_____________________

Almost the entire next day Simon can’t do anything except wonder and theorize over what exactly Wille has planned for him. He tries to ask Rosh or Ayub, but his friends are tight-lipped, obviously knowing something , but refusing to enlighten him as well.

At the proposed time he’s waiting outside of the station, wearing something he hopes can pass for semi formal, a dark jacket, one of his nicer shirts under his puffy jacket along with the pair of black pants he’d worn once for a photoshoot an indie magazine had used in small article on the last single he’d released. 

Admittedly he’s a little nervous, because this feels oddly date-like and because he has no idea what’s awaiting him within the next hour. Simon isn’t the biggest fan of surprises, but Wille had seemed so excited about it and so he’s coming here with an open mind.

After a few minutes, he feels a tap on his shoulder and he jumps a little in surprise, turning quickly to be faced with…a plastic shopping bag.

“Merry Christmas!” Wille’s voice says cheerfully from behind the bag and Simon cranes his neck around to blink at him.

“Wille?”

“It’s for you!” Wille pushes the bag towards him and Simon takes it slowly, gingerly opening it and peering inside to see a collection of clementines, rolling around freely inside.

“There’s one for every day we won’t be in the office.” His friend supplies, “I have to make sure you’re getting vitamin C you know. I take my job very seriously.”

Simon laughs at that, taking the bag from him. Wille has a habit of leaving one of the small orange fruits on his desk every morning. They are particularly plentiful and sweet at this time of year and Simon isn’t sure how, or where Wille buys his, but the ones he brings are always so much better than the ones Simon himself finds at the supermarket. 

“Thank you.” He shakes his head in amusement and then looks over Wille’s outfit. He’s wearing a long coat and a colourful wool scarf, but Simon can see that he’s styled his hair with some kind of holding material and he changed the earring in his ear and most surprising of all, whatever he’s wearing beneath the coat seems quite nice.

“Am I going to be okay like this? As you might recall a certain person wouldn’t tell me about what we were actually doing today.”

“You look great Simon.” Wille looks him over and the slight lingering gaze is all the encouragement that he needs.

The walk takes them a little less than ten minutes and Wille seems to know exactly where they are going. Finally his steps slow and he stops, turning to look over at Simon who realizes they are standing in front of the Royal Opera, Simon looks around confused until he sees the large, drop poster, displayed in front.

The Romantics 

Selected Musical Compositions From The Romantic Era

Performed by The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra

Simon turns to him in surprise because it’s the exact same spot where they had stopped on the night Wille had walked him to the station; given him his cardigan and brought music back into his life without even realizing it. 

“Wille this is—- how did you remember this?”

“It seemed important to you. And it’s something kind of different… I thought it could be fun. To experience it with you.”

Simon stares at him, because how is it that he can just so casually say things that throw him completely off balance and make him feel like telling him everything he knows about everything he loves like he’s sprung a leak and can’t stop talking? How can he say things that make him want to cry because it’s just so rare to find people who just want to know him and not what he can do for them? 

“Really?”

Wille blinks and then nods and Simon can find not a single lie in the guilelessness of his gaze, “Really.”

Dumbfounded, he just nods, unable to really say much else because his thoughts are spinning and it’s all he can do to just follow Wille into the venue. 

The staff at the coat check give him an odd look when he hands over the plastic bag of fruits, but he’s still stuck replaying his words over and over again and looking over at Wille every time he turns away from him. 

It seemed important to you. And it’s something kind of different… I thought it could be fun. To experience it with you.

They aren’t exactly the target audience for a performance like this and it’s very clear when they enter the music hall that the majority of the people here are much older than themselves. Simon spies a few younger-skewing people scattered around, perhaps students from the nearby Music College, or maybe people just like them, brought there by something serendipitous. 

As they take their seats Wille leans over slightly and Simon turns to see his brow knotted in concern. 

“Are you okay? Is this okay?” His friend asks, sounding worried, “You’re just…really quiet.”

Simon swallows the sudden tightness in his throat, trying to understand why he feels like there’s a strange energy beneath his skin, the way he feels like he just can’t sit still because there is something, some monumental, inescapable truth that’s coming closer and closer.

“Simon?”

The lights begin to go down, quietly and from the orchestra there’s a swell of music that rises to greet them and for a moment Simon feels thankful for the darkness because he’s actually not sure what his face is doing.

But Wille is still watching him, in the dark, growing more and more worried by the second and Simon can’t quite articulate everything that’s happening inside of him right now so he just nods and whispers back, hoping his voice comes out normal. “I’m okay…it’s starting.”

His friend doesn’t sit back though, stays there for a moment, studying him and then he nods minutely, eyes downcast. Simon can see him nervously pick at his jacket, to rub at his neck.

“Really Wille.” He says again, reaching out to still his anxious fingers, “It’ll be fun.”

It helps to reassure him a bit, or at least Simon thinks it does judging by how the tension seems to leave his body. 

The Orchestra begins and as they go through their programme he's listening but his thoughts are still wildly hard to collect, branching off into a thousand different directions. His mind just won’t go quiet .

He thinks about Wille, but somehow, inescapably he also thinks about his father. It’s hard not to when he has so many memories like this tied to him. 

Micke had brought him to concerts when he was younger. He had taken him to larger cities to see orchestras and string quartets in luxurious concert halls, auditoriums for local artists and singers, dive bars to see grungy rock bands, and to high energy festivals to get a taste of what he called a real crowd . 

Music is just as varied as people. If you want to be a good musician you have to learn to understand a lot of different kinds of music just the same way being a good person means you have to learn to understand different kinds of people. 

Those words had stuck with him, turning bitter over the years because it’s always so easy to say broad and generalized things to make yourself feel good, but where was that attitude when it came to his own family? What had they done to deserve such a wildly different reality? What had they done to deserve everything he had put them through when he had changed?

It's so hard to accept that it has never been that black and white. It’s hard to try and hate his father and realize that he can’t. He still has memories of who his father was before debilitating addiction turned him into someone Simon didn’t even recognize as the same man who used to take him and Sara to buy candy on Saturdays and who listened to the radio too loudly and used to bring his mother her favourite flowers at the end of every week.

His relationship with music and with his father has always been so tightly intertwined that Simon realizes, again, having to face a hard truth, that maybe he had lost that part of himself when his father died because of all of the anger and resentment he still held towards him because he hadn’t had closure because he’d never know why his father had done the things he did and he’d never have a chance to tell him how much it had hurt him, had hurt all of them. 

But he’s so tired of holding all of this anger and resentment inside of him and he’s so tired of fighting his own emotions and trying to pretend like he doesn’t feel as intensely as he really does. He’s tired of living with walls between himself and what he wants.

He wants to feel, to be able to pour his hurt and pain into music and to let himself heal. Micke is still somehow affecting him, even from the grave and Simon shouldn’t let the mistakes his father made stop him from doing what he loves more than anything. But that’s easier said than put into practice. 

On the stage below there is a pause of tension, of quiet and then the opening notes of Camille Saint-Saëns The Swan play and he suddenly is hit with a memory, so visceral and intense that he has to close his eyes as it washes over him.

He had been eleven years old when his father had taken him to Norrköping to see Micha Maisky perform with the Norrköping Symphony Orchestra and even though Simon hadn’t really known much about that type of music or appreciated that experience as much as he should have back then he remembers being so incredibly moved by the music, completely enthralled and enraptured and taken by something that felt otherworldly. 

Even as a child, it had felt as though the song itself, the aching swell of the strings could transport him somewhere beyond the physical world. He remembers being so breathless, sitting on the edge of his seat, remembering the way his father's hand has settled on his shoulder, a heavy, comforting weight. 

Something about the image and the memory, the way he mourned the times when he had felt so secure with Micke when he would have never doubted that his father loved him and would keep him safe. Something about that finds the cracks in the walls he’s been holding tightly around his heart and splits them open and when it does he feels the music inside him, vibrating into his bones and filling all of the spaces with volume. 

Simon feels heat in his eyes and he has to close them, turning his face downward when he realizes he’s crying and he can’t stop it. It’s embarrassing, mortifying really, even in the dark because he knows that Wille will be able to tell if he looks at him now. But something that had begun to loosen that day in the church pew had finally shattered and it’s just as cathartic as it is distressing.

He puts a hand over his face and turns away, but then he feels Wille’s hand on his arm, the weight warm and affirming and turns his forearm up, palm face up, an invitation that is met when Wille covers it with his own and their fingers intertwine, locking together in perfect symmetry. 

You have to learn to understand different kinds of people.

Simon realizes that all of the anger and hurt he’s held with him, that have been stunting him since his father's death, has been stealing his motivation and happiness, he realizes he can’t hold on to it any longer.

Micke had been a person too, with things he surely had wanted for the future and regrets he certainly must have held. He must have greatly suffered because Simon understands logically that addiction is a disease and that it’s so hard to fight without proper support, but it is so hard to really come to terms with that when it feels like it tore his life apart. Simon has held onto so much resentment through the years, even now even now when his father's body rests in a grave outside of Bjärstad frozen over with ice and snow. It has been festering beneath his skin and in his heart like a sickness that just won’t dissipate. 

But he has to let go. He has to forgive Micke for his own sake so that he can bury these things in the same place that his father's body rests in the ground. 

The music washes over him again and he remembers it so intensely, like he’s back there again as a child, looking up at his father as the song draws to its conclusion with wide, amazed eyes.  The way Micke with his greying hair and lopsided grin, had chuckled and said.

That’ll be you one day. Up on a stage and blowing people's minds with your talent. 

And maybe that’s the image that Simon has to keep of his father. Maybe that’s the version of him he can learn to forgive. 

So he does.

The song ends and he comes back to himself slowly.

It feels so…freeing, it feels like he’s no longer tied down to all of those things that kept him guarded and unable to allow himself to be happy making music. Simon realizes how thankful and grateful he is to Wille for doing this for him, even though the other man probably has no idea what’s going on inside of him right now.  

It’s so strange to think that he had been so afraid of this when maybe he hadn’t known this was exactly what he needed. Of course, it’s not solved with a pretty bow never to come back again, Simon is sure of that. But he’s different, he’s hopeful, he’s a raw, sensitive thing that hasn’t stopped learning. 

When the lights come up again he feels spent, but better than he has in a long time, lighter somehow.

Wille squeezes his hand and when Simon looks over at him the smile on his face is daybreak, is the sun piercing through the storm clouds, blazing and ferocious. 

And then Simon has his second revelation of the night because it seems as though the part of him that is still learning, that has overcome the things he has been using to protect his heart, it realizes how it’s suddenly so obvious. 

He wants to kiss Wille.

He likes Wille. 

He likes Wille more than just a friend.

_____________ 

They walk down the steps of the theatre, drawn together and silent and Simon feels like he’s simultaneously falling and standing on solid ground. The small distance between their hands is a tease, a voice whispering in his thoughts to take it. hold his hand the way you want to. you want him to. you want this. 

You want him.

And the realization on top of all of the other realizations he’s had tonight is so profound and it turns everything upside down, but he’s not scared of it. He thought it would be more frightening to just let himself ask for the things he wants, but Wille’s been teaching him all this time that it doesn’t have to be.

They walk through Kungsträdgården, where rows of winter trees strung with golden glittering lights against reflective snow. Couples pass them and for a moment he watches them, watches how they bend toward each other, how they walk hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, turned toward one another, smiling, laughing, living and he wants that.

He wants it so fiercely.

Wants to stop living only halfway and living safely because he’s afraid of being hurt. He’s not satisfied with just being Wille’s friend, with leaving things the way they are.

He wants to be able to walk in Kungsträdgården holding his hand, leaning against him. He wants people to see them and know that they belong to each other. Wants them to say their names together in a single breath as though they are a matched set.

“Oh look…the ice skating rink is still open,” Wille says and his voice pulls Simon from the intensity of his thoughts and draws his eyes to his profile, shadowed and half hidden by his thick woollen scarf. 

He can’t say for sure if he’s in love with Wilhelm or not, the term doesn’t quite feel expansive for what he feels, but then again he’s never really been in love.

But Simon thinks it would be easy to fall in love with Wilhelm, he thinks he’s already on that path and that is exhilarating and encompasses the feeling of a free-fall embrace that’s currently giving him whiplash. 

The idea of moving into this without knowing where it leads would have scared him before but he deserves to be happy, doesn’t he? He deserves to figure these things out just as clumsy and messily as anyone else does. 

Just being Wille’s friend is no longer enough.

They continue walking, past the rink and the lights and the people until it’s darker and hushed with fewer pedestrians. They turn into an opening along a garden walkway lined by hedges and Simon looks out over Strömgatan and the Palace in the background glittering in the reflection of the dark waters. 

The stretch of the sky is heavy with clouds made of shades of navy and black, looking as though they could fall down whole, settling over the fairytale buildings and rambling streets of Old Town like a coating of dust made of indigo and stars.   

What was that song again?

Och jag vill bara gråter så vackert är Stockholm i natt. 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Wille, still like a sentry, looking out over the street and the water, taking a deep breath of the frozen air and Simon thinks that Stockholm, at least in his eyes, has competition.

He can see the moment Wille notices him staring, the way he imperceptibly tilts his head toward him, looking over from the corner of his eyes.

And then they turn into each other at the same time and Simon’s breath catches slightly when he feels Wille’s hand on his arm, and sees the way his breath condensates into soft, light patterns. They are almost monochrome in the low, shadowed light of winter evening, but Wille’s eyes are just as intense, a bright spot that pulls him in the way a lighthouse brings in a weary traveller lost at sea.

And he’s tired of pulling away, wants to be swept in by his current and pulled to shore where he can learn that maybe if he can trust Wille with his body and his mind, then he can trust him with his heart too.

In the cold, stark winter air, his entire vision is Wille, his figure caught by the lamppost which illuminates half of his face, pale despite the way his cheeks and the tip of his nose are red from the cold. Wille holds his gaze and Simon feels how the tension in the moment curls between them, pulls them together and ignites a thousand possibilities like a wick of a candle. They've never kissed, not outside of the carefully constructed parameters of the boundaries they had set for themselves. 

Kissing between them has always been a means to something more, something purely physical, but without any expectations, without the goal being sex, Simon wants to kiss him.

He wants to kiss Wille because Wille’s lips look soft and cold and Simon thinks he could warm them up. Because of his shitty driving playlist and his stupid attractive earring and messy hair. He wants to kiss Wille because he brings him clementines every morning and lets him talk and talk and talk without ever making Simon feel small.

He wants to kiss Wille because he plans surprises and does crazy things like inventing alternate personalities and riding tourist buses just to cheer Simon up. 

He wants to kiss Wille because he’d helped him heal something deeply vulnerable inside of him tonight because he had listened to him, really listened and spoken back in a way that Simon understood . 

He wants to kiss Wille because he has always been listening and Simon knows that, but after tonight he’s starting to understand that he just can’t ignore the way it really makes him feel.

Simon isn’t running anymore and Simon thinks Wille wants to kiss him too. 

It’s like a scene in a movie when they lean forward, the two main characters finally having their moment. 

Simon isn’t sure why he feels so nervous when it’s not as though they haven’t done much more explicit things together. But those things had always been about sex , and emotions have always been so much scarier.

His heart is in his throat when he feels Wille’s hands slide up his forearms, hears the snow crunch as he takes another step toward him and then——

“Wille? Is that you?”

There’s a voice that shatters the quiet tension that had seemed to encase them from the outside world, coming from completely out of nowhere, completely unexpected. It leaves him feeling disoriented and breathless as though the ground he’s standing on has been suddenly ripped out from under him. 

It’s like watching a crash in slow motion, the way he sees Wille look up sharply, in disbelief, all of the colour draining from his face as though he’s not quite processing what he’s seeing.

Simon turns then as well and his heart drops into his stomach, feeling suddenly frozen, so far removed from the warmth that had lingered between them only seconds before.

Wille steps to the side, away from Simon, steps toward the figure across from them, and when he speaks Simon can detect the slight shake in his voice. 

“ Alex ?”

Chapter Text

If the walk they had taken through Kungsträdgården after the concert could have been encapsulated into a single moment, Wille would have wanted to relive it over and over.

He had been so sure that Simon was going to kiss him, had been practically vibrating in anticipation. It was a perfect moment, like a painting, the dark sky and the snow, beautiful and coating the whole world in white. Simon has been glowing under the lamppost, crystals melting on his eyelashes, dark eyes bright and watching him, only him, as if he was the only thing he could see.

It would have been like a scene from a movie if they had kissed.

It’s not as though Wille hadn’t thought about it before, especially over the holiday while they were at Simon’s family home. He’d even thought it might happen that early morning on Christmas Eve in the snow. Maybe it was because snow always made him sentimental, but it’s such a beautiful backdrop for Simon. Simon might prefer summer and warmer weather, but he looks so pretty when his cheeks and the tip of his nose are pink and he's lost in his giant puffy coat. 

The winter night is much more beautiful with Simon by his side.

But they don’t kiss. Simon never quite makes it all the way, and doesn't quite make those final few steps. There’s a shift of movement he catches out of the corner of his eye and when he looks he hears a voice he hasn’t in years, speaking to him as if pulled straight out of a memory.

“Wille? Is that you?”

Alexander Bragé stands there, in a sleek, white woolen coat, an argyle patterned cashmere scarf that Wille is certain is luxury designer. His hair is different, artfully tousled and his features have changed subtly over the years, losing some of the youthful roundness that had clung to his cheeks. But it’s unmistakable that it’s him, and he’s stopped, turned toward them, practically glowing in the dark in his long white coat, eyes wide like a ghost of Wille’s past.

Wille can’t help his immediate reaction, taking a step toward him in surprise. “Alex?”

He senses Simon stiffen slightly beside him and he wants to turn to him, but he can’t because Alex is walking towards him and he feels as though he can’t process what is happening.

In his mind it’s almost as though Alex has ceased to exist, as though he had died if he’s being morbidly honest so seeing him here again, his mind can’t function properly.

“I thought you left Sweden.” He finds himself saying, and it’s stupidly obvious but it's the only thing he can get out.

“I did…I went to Princeton..you know..” His expression is tight when he speaks and he swallows, eyes flickering to where Simon is still standing behind him, “ and then…I ended up working for my mother's company in Shanghai until…well, I decided to come back to Sweden and open a Finance startup here with some friends from university…but you …wow, I almost didn’t recognize you with the new hair and the…” Alex gestures toward his own ears and Wille realizes he’s talking about the jewelry he’s wearing and feels a strange flush of insecurity when he realizes just how different he must seem to him now since the last time they had seen each other. How different from the straight-laced boy in cardigans and button-ups and slacks that he used to be to who he is now.

Alex looks wealthy and put together and sharp in this way that Wille sees plenty of people navigate through the streets of Stockholm. Like successful twenty-something corporate entrepreneurs with their careers on the up and up, driving expensive cars and sitting in cafes with their expensive laptops in video meetings with their global partners. Talking in terms of rising trends in E-commerce, inflation and supply chain security. 

For a moment he feels embarrassed, and insecure, despite the years he worked to feel comfortable with who he is and how much he has achieved on his own. But he can’t quite help it because he cared deeply for Alex and for some stupid reason he somehow still cares about what he thinks of him too.

”You look good, I mean…successful and…yeah you know what I mean.” He says, dying slightly inside when he sees Alex’s gaze soften.

From beside him, Simon clears his throat and oh god Simon’s here and witnessing this happening, and suddenly Wille feels like he’s lost his footing altogether. 

It shouldn’t have happened like this, 

Alex takes a few steps forward until he’s close enough that Wille could reach out and touch his shoulder if he wanted to. Up close Wille feels a familiar flutter in his chest as Alex’s dark gaze takes him in, smiling a bit before it’s broken as Simon steps forward and holds out his hand.

“Alexander right?” He says and Alex's gaze pulls away from Wille, who is still staring and unable to quite work out what the proper thing to do in this situation is.

His ex, probably his first love meeting the person who he was only just a few minutes ago hoping would kiss him, who he just spent four days at his family home, who he has wedged his way into Wille’s life in so many ways, and means so much. Its like two very distinctive sides, him from the past and him now, and seeing them like this is doing unspeakable things to his brain. 

Alex looks him over, recognition sparking in his eyes after a moment, “You’re Sara Eriksson’s brother right? Wait you went to Hillerska as well, sorry I didn’t recognize you for a moment. It’s Simon correct?”

Simon nods, shaking his hand before dropping it, “Yeah. Simon Eriksson.”

Alex looks between them and then something curious blooms on his face, “So you two kept in touch then? Since school?”

“We work together,” Simon says

“Oh so colleagues—-“

“Friends,” they both say at the same time and Alex blinks, nodding after a moment. Eventually, his attention turns back to Wille and he feels that strange nervous flipping sensation in his stomach again that he can’t quite discern if it’s good or bad. 

“Look I’m sorry if I intruded on your evening…just…it’s really really good to see you, Wille.” Alex reaches out to touch his shoulder and Wille stares at him, unsure what to do and how to react. 

“Yeah…um…welcome back and everything.” He says thickly and Alex bites his lip, searching his expression for a moment before he seems to have made a decision.

“Thank you, Wille.” He murmurs and then takes a breath, “Look…I’d really, really like to catch up sometime soon. I'm serious…here’s my number.” Alex pulls out a piece of paper from his Hermes wallet, scribbling it down before reaching forward to press it into his palm. The fabric of his black gloves cold against Wille’s bare skin. “Please call me. I think…we have a lot to talk about.”

He takes the paper, he’s not sure he's actually breathing at this point.

And then Alex turns and leaves, his white coat visible in the dark until he turns the corner and Wille doesn’t know what to think or how to feel.

“Wille?” He hears Simon ask and there’s something insecure and vulnerable that he hears in his voice that makes him want to curl in on himself and absolutely die. Turning around quickly he is faced with Simon looking at him with a strange, almost closed-off look in his eyes and it’s scary because he doesn’t know why he suddenly feels like he's done something wrong.

“Are you okay?”

It stings that the first thing he does after Wille had practically pushed him away to gawk at someone else is to ask if he is okay, because, of course, he would because Simon is nice and cares about him and he probably thinks Wille is an asshole because what had just been happening between them before Alex came in and blew everything to hell.

“I’m…I’m okay. I just haven't seen him since…well in a really long time.”

“Since the stuff happened with your parents and everything?”

Wille bites his lip, feeling sick as his stomach twists, he reaches out to take the back of the bench to ground himself for a moment and feels how the bite of the frozen metal serves to ground him.

He thinks back then, suddenly flooded with the memory, to the last time he and Alexander spoke, “Yeah. That.”  

Wille hadn't thought about it in ages, he closed off that part of his mind for a long time immediately after it happened. But seeing him again brings up a lot of things he tried to move past, and Simon’s question throws him because maybe he’s not okay.

Maybe the things he’s “healed from” still exist inside of him because he remembers it so well, the last time they spoke. It’s pulled forth unwillingly from somewhere deep and he’s reliving it because how can he not when it was such a pivotal point of his life that had changed everything.

The trek from his family estate in Djursholm to the Bragé family home in Äppelviken is not an easy one. It’s a journey he’s mostly taken by car when his brother or a friend had given him a ride the very few times they had spent time together outside of school over holidays. 

Definitely an upside to living together at a boarding school, never having to travel very far to see your boyfriend.

He has to walk nearly a good 950 meters to the nearest bus stop which then takes him to the train, he has to change trains and then walk another ten minutes until he sees the slope of Alexander’s sleek modern home rising out of the tree line.

There’s a numbness in his limbs, clouding his mind with a fog of static. The entire trip here he had only been able to focus on where he is going, the destination, almost like an out-of-body experience, as though someone else is directing his steps, his mind on auto-pilot.

Wille adjusts the strap of the bag on his shoulder, holding everything he has left, everything that truly belongs to him as of now. As of that moment, he had left his family’s home. Had left Erik calling after him from the long gravel driveway, had left his mother watching with a disinterested frown from the window, his father casting an unsure look in her direction, his brow furrowed and his lips locked and silent.

He has to get to Alex. He has to see him, to know that he’s okay, to talk to him. Wilhelm doesn’t really know what it will do, but it’s the only plan of action he has for now. It’s the one goal he can physically work towards in the moment, and he clings to it like a purpose.

He’s called Alex too many times to count at this point and with every unanswered call the wave of anxiety builds, has him gripping his phone with clammy fingers, rubbing at his chest as he waits to hear back.

It takes everything in him to muster to courage to walk to the front door, reach out with shaking fingers, and knock on the large, sleek door.

The house is all glass, concrete, and wood, cold and imposing in an empty, minimalist way that is completely different from the way his reeks of old money and suffocating ornate decoration.

The door opens and Wilhelm comes face to face with a woman who comes up to his shoulder, her long black hair hangs straight and shining over her shoulders and her face is quite attractive, perfectly painted with a hint of natural makeup that enhances her features. His brain takes a second to put together a stammered greeting as he faces Alexander’s mother. He’s met her once or twice at school functions, but this is a lot different isn’t it. 

Her expression is neutral, hasn’t changed or moved in the slightest, her sharp eyes look him over, judging everything she sees surely, from the odd layering of clothing he’s wearing, to shoes tied to his bag and his face, flustered, the spots of acne red and angry where he had been picking at them in his anxiety.

“Wilhelm Cronstedt.” She says, smiling sharply, the expression not quite meeting her eyes before continuing in English, “Would you like to come in?”

The way her eyes focus on him makes the words of invitation sound anything but welcoming and he hesitates a moment, hands trembling at his sides before he hears a commotion from the stairs and sees Alex appear in the doorway, flushed and wide-eyed looking between him and his mother.

He just saw Alex yesterday at Henry’s lake house, and he knows that beneath the high-collared shirt he’s wearing now there are marks he had placed there with his lips and teeth. 

That feels like ages ago, even though it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. 

“Mama—“

“I just invited Wilhelm inside. You drink tea, yes Wilhelm?”

“Oh, actually I…”

“Mama…” Alexander and his mother turn towards each other, speaking quickly in Mandarin before she pulls back, humming with her red lips pressed tightly together, manicured fingernails drumming against the forearm crossed over her chest. She shakes her head with a disappointed look and an exasperated sigh, eyes cutting back to Wille who stands there feeling like he’s going to actually vomit the contents of his empty stomach from his nerves.

“It was good to see you. Give our greetings to your family.” She says tightly, falsely polite, her smile a varnish barely masking the annoyance and dislike that he feels radiating off of her. When she reaches for the door Alex ducks underneath her arm, grabbing Wille by the elbow and pulling him down the steps.

“What are you doing here?” He asks in a panicked whisper looking at the door that has closed behind them. Without waiting for Wille to speak he pulls him down to the street, stepping behind a group of trees and turning around to check behind him once more before he turns to Wille.

For his part, Wille is frozen, numb, and staring at him unsure what to say, he leans into the touch on his arm, reaching for Alex desperate for some kind of comfort, some kind of reassurance, and something jagged and painful breaks inside of him when Alex steps away from him, eyes wide, scanning the street.

“Wille, why are you here? My parents found out about everything….god August and his stupid friend Vincent and Krille sent a stupid email to the entire school roster…everyone knows, they had photos attached—it was from an anonymous address but I know it was them—“

Wilhelm feels the panic, the well of fear and dread and hurt building higher and higher broken by Alex who just can’t seem to see that he’s drowning, “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” He says, cutting into Alex’s worried rant. His boyfriend goes silent, swallows his words, and looks at him.

“I don’t know what to do Alex.” He says, his voice shaking before his expression crumples and he lets the tears come thick and hit over his cheeks stinging at the places he’s picked his skin open.

Alex stares at him, scared and frozen like a deer in headlights, he sees how his hand reaches toward him and then pauses just before his fingertips brush the fabric of his sweater. There’s a feeling of emptiness and a special kind of pain that radiates through his entire chest when he sees Alex retract his hand.

“I…I’m sorry Wille…I don’t know what I can do. I’m going to New Jersey in two days.”

“Already?” Wille asks wiping his eyes and trying to get a fucking handle on himself because what the fuck is wrong with him, “What? I thought you weren’t going until closer to the semester start…”

“My mother wants me to go now. She wants me out of the spotlight…and I have to go Wille.”

“You don’t Alex.” He says realizing Alex is being given an ultimatum of his own, but instead of fighting it, he’s following along.

“I do.” He says and Wille sees the pain in his expression, the way his eyes shine brightly. Alex looks away from him swallowing tightly and shaking his head, “I’m sorry…but I just…I can’t—-“

“Alex….” Wille begs, he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, “Why have you been ignoring my calls…do you…you don’t want to—“ he steps forward, reaching for him, just needing to feel some kind of comfort when he feels like his world is falling apart and like he’s losing everything at once like he’s completely out of control and hurtling towards an unknown.

“Wille I can't…” He murmurs, “I'm sorry but I just….I can’t. It’s all already planned out…I can’t just throw everything away….I”

Wille can barely hear, his head is full of static, and the words coming from Alexander’s mouth make no sense, he hears him talking, they form in his mind but all he can think of is how he feels like he’s lost his balance and he’s falling, crashing to the ground.

“What am I going to do Alex?”

“I…” Alex trails off, staring at him with glassy eyes before he looks away, hands fiddling nervously with the hem of his T-shirt.

They stand there and the silence between them is deafening. Wilhelm feels sick, like he’s spinning out of control when in actuality he hasn’t moved an inch, when really he’s completely quiescently immobile.

Alex might be standing right next to him, but it suddenly feels as though there is an entire ocean between them already, that even though he’s still here in the same place, the same country, the same street, he’s already left and the moment Wille turns his back he will be out of his reach forever. 

And he thought he was okay with him leaving, but now he realizes it fucking hurts. It really fucking hurts because Alex is the one person who knows about him, who sees him. Who he has told so many deeply personal things of his life and secrets and wishes he had never been able to voice before. 

It feels very much as though their lives have gotten ripped up and Alex gets to go and escape the fallout, start over somewhere new where no one knows him, and move on. But Wille is trapped, without him, without a friend he can go to, without his family, without money. 

Hell, he doesn’t even know where he’s going to sleep tonight. 

Maybe it’s selfish, because it’s not really Alexander’s fault, but there’s a deep, aching feeling of abandonment and betrayal that grips him and squeezes painfully until he feels his eyes sting with unshed tears.

There’s such a distance between them now when not even 48 hours ago they had been entwined on Henry’s couch, laughing and murmuring wishes for the future into each other's skin. 

“Wait…you have a lot of stuff…what’s going on” Alex says, seemingly having just noticed the odd collection of things he’s carrying on his back. He can see the realization dawning on his boyfriend's face and suddenly he feels pathetic for having come here. To ask for what exactly? Help? To ask Alexander to do something when there’s nothing he can do? To cry to him about what his mother had said, how she had so easily tossed him aside, and how his brother had defended her? 

Maybe, but Wilhelm knows the real reason he came here is much more simple than that. He knows he had come here hoping for some kind of comfort, some kind of affection. And it’s pathetic really, how much he thrives off of it, how much he desires some kind of physical tether to another person. He’s just lost everything and he wanted to be held and told it was going to be okay, that everything would be okay.

He’s pathetic. 

So when Alex finally finally fucking notices how wrong everything is, he takes a step back, biting back the tears and suddenly feeling so empty and so lost. Suddenly he feels like he has no one in the world who he can talk to now.

“I’m…  going to stay with a friend for a few days.” Wilhelm lies, and there’s no emotion in him now, he’s just so drained of everything. His anxious nerves and pain have warped into something that sucks every feeling of good and bad out of him like a vacuum light switch. 

Alex pauses, trying to read him but Wille looks away from his worried gaze, “Shit…Look…I wish I could let you stay here but my parents are…not exactly…”

“It’s okay Alex,” Wille murmurs, wrapping his arms around himself and looking away from him, rubbing his hands over his forearms even though it isn’t particularly cold. Alex is in a t-shirt and he’s wearing a sweater but he feels a chill in him nonetheless, like a permanent fixture beneath his skin.

“I’m sorry ….I didn’t want it to be like this.” Alex says after a long silence and Wille looks over at him and sees the restrained hurt reflected back, as though something is keeping him from saying what he truly feels. “I know we didn’t know which way things would go after school…but this wasn’t what I—“

“I get it.” Wille pulls back, shaking his head. “It’s fine.”

He’s alone. 

“I’m sorry…” Alex murmurs reaching for him and it’s what Wille has wanted this whole time, this connection and comfort in the form of physical affection, but he feels numb to it, cold as reality is slowly seeping in.”Hey Wille…I really mean it.” It sounds like he’s close to tears.

He nods quietly but doesn’t say anything, the bag on his back heavy, but not heavier than it feels to simply keep himself standing.

“Who are you going to stay with?” Alexander presses, taking a step forward, something scared in his voice that Wille has no emotion to unpack at this moment. He wonders if Alex has realized his lie.

“A friend,” he repeats, reaching up to rub at his dry eyes and at the empty place where his heart somehow still beats despite the rest of him feeling expired.

“Let me swish you some money at least.” Alex insists and that has him recoiling, taking a step back, and staring at him with disbelieving eyes for a moment before he adjusts his bag and steps away.

“I don’t need it.” 

“Wille wait!” There's an undercurrent of panic in the other boy's voice, his dark eyes wide and Wille can see the things sinking in, the realization that he himself had already had. 

His realization that there’s now an impassable divide between them that neither one of them can cross, no matter how many secrets Alex knows, or how many of Wille’s freckles he's kissed. No matter how many times Wille has carded his fingers through the other's thick hair and intertwined their fingers under the table at breakfast. This is where it stops.

“I’m going. Have a good time at Princeton. I hope it’s everything you want it to be.” His voice is a flat, unfeeling thing, hearing it so devoid of emotion like this scares him. 

“Wille—no Wait I—“

Stepping off the curb as though on auto-pilot he ignores the calls that Alex makes from behind him, only walks quicker when he hears the footsteps behind him. 

Eventually, the path behind him goes quiet. 

Simon’s voice pulls him out of the scene in his mind. It’s so strange thinking about it now, all these years older. Over the years in therapy, he’d unpacked it and he had admitted that the situation the two of them had been in hadn’t been fair at all, to either of them. Back then he had felt hurt and betrayed in a way, but it really hadn’t been Alexander's fault, it had just been the final piece of the puzzle that had toppled over along with what had felt like his entire life, everything he had known. 

It’s not something he still holds anger over, but that doesn’t mean it was easy seeing him without warning. That doesn’t mean it hadn’t triggered a whole flood of uncomfortable feelings and truths rising to the surface.

“I get it,” Simon says softly and Wille feels his hand on his back.

He hates this, feeling like everything he’s built up and all the stable ground he’s learned to stand on is suddenly pulled out from under him. Hates that this is so obviously affecting him in front of Simon when this whole evening was planned for him and to make him happy.

“It’s fine,” Wille turns back with a too-bright smile that he hopes is somewhat convincing, “You want to keep walking? We could walk along the water and—“

“It’s okay Wille I’m getting a little cold.”

“Oh? I mean I think there’s an Espresso House that’s still open around here—“

“Honestly…this whole night has been a lot for me.” He says and there’s a small smile that pulls at his lips even though his eyes seem a bit sad and distant. 

The words send Wille reeling and it's such a sharp turn from the feeling between them not even fifteen minutes ago when it had felt like they were the only two in a snow-capped universe of quiet, just before that solitude had been cracked wide open.

Did he do something? What did he do? Oh hell, how could he have fucked up so badly? “Simon I’m so sorry…I feel like I’ve done something wrong…”

Simon blinks and shakes his head vehemently, “No Wille you haven’t I promise…that…I just realized a lot of things…mainly about my father. Things I’ve been holding onto…”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Simon looks around and his expression is a little lost, “I do.” He says honestly and looks back at Wille but he seems slightly bewildered as though he doesn’t quite understand this uncharted territory either, “I just…I think…right now might not be the best time, I think I need a little bit of time to process it.”

And Wille gets that, he does, because sometimes he has to do the same thing, take a step back and let things work themselves out when it’s too overwhelming but why does he feel like he did something wrong? Why does the thought of it set his anxiety on fire?

“Do you want me to drive you home?” He asks and Simon is quiet a moment before shaking his head and taking a step back.

“I think I just want to just…” he lifts his arms in a gesture that Wille understands means he just needs to be alone for a time 

But why does he feel like it’s Wille that Simon is taking a step back from?

He wonders, for a moment, if Alex showing up is the reason he’s withdrawing like this, feels a myriad of unexplained things burn inside of him, embarrassment, shame, nerves, this self-deprecating voice in the back of his head laughing at him for even assuming that. But god, he had thought something had shifted between them, he had thought Simon was starting to think of him as….

And here he is making it about him again when Simon had just told him what was going on, and what reason would he have to lie about that to him?

“Can I walk you to the station?” Wille asks, relieved when Simon nods.

The two of them depart, mostly in silence, through the snow and the cold, down Hamngatan towards the glowing beacon that is the tall crystal sculpture near Sergels Torg. Wille feels a bit at a loss, as though he’s somehow lost his footing. It’s just such a different mood to when they left the theater and he’s not sure what he can do or say.

Simon answers him and talks and he doesn’t seem upset necessarily, just a little more quiet and withdrawn than he normally is when they are together. Wille wants to talk about it but he is painfully aware of how he’s already asked him multiple times if everything is okay and feels like at this point he would be nagging. Honestly, he just feels like he’s annoying him even though that’s probably not even the case.

When they reach the entrance to the underground where they had met earlier, Simon turns to him and smiles, tilting his head. It gives Wille pause because suddenly it’s like nothing had happened at all, as if in the span of the six-minute walk of awkward tension and odd hesitancy Simon has suddenly done a 180 and everything is normal again.

“Thanks so much for this Wille.” He says brightly, lifting the bag of oranges, “It really meant a lot to me and it was so fun. It was thoughtful of you.”

Simon steps forward while he’s still processing and hugs him tightly before pulling back to smile up at him with reddened cheeks from the wind, “You’re really a great friend.”

A bit stunned he nods, not knowing what else to say, “Uh…I’m just…I’m glad you enjoyed it. I enjoyed it too, my family used to go to this kind of thing but I never really paid attention…but this was really wonderful.”

“Maybe you should go more often then, expand your horizons and all that,” Simon winks, rocking on his heels, “Well…have a great rest of your night. I’ll contact you soon, okay?” Simon nods, squeezing his forearm before dropping his hands beaming at him as he angles his body toward the station.

“Yeah…sounds good.”

“Good night! I’ve got to run or I’ll miss my bus connection.” Simon waves, cheerful, but there’s just something a little off and Wille doesn’t have time to try and gauge what it is before the other man slips from his side and starts to descend the stairs.

And then he’s gone, into the depths of the station and Wille feels the ever-present anxiety creep its way upward as he worries over what is going through Simon’s mind, if he had done something or if it was something completely unrelated and he’s only building it up in his head and making it about him.

The thoughts won’t leave him even as he makes his way to his car which is parked down at a garage on another, quieter street. He takes the long way, hoping that the winding streets and cold air in his lungs will help shake the buzzing in his head but he can’t stop thinking.

It’s not really the same thing at all, but now the floodgates are open and his mind won’t stop replaying everything over and over.

He takes a bus into the city sunken into the seat, curled up against the window, he stares out at the streets and people that pass and feels so empty and desolate that it terrifies him because he’s been fighting his mind for years but it’s never been like this, this kind of numbness that seeps into every part of him, leeching all light and whisper of himself that is hiding from the shadows that encroach. 

There’s a ping from his phone and he looks at the screen to see with a sudden feeling of nausea that Alex has indeed sent him a swish payment, of a stupidly large sum that makes him see red for a moment. He swipes into the app and rejects the payment.

He pauses a moment when he sees the state of his bank balance, almost wishing he had accepted it for a moment when he sees, the very little he has left trying to calculate how long it will last him, but he doesn’t really know. It’s not something he’s ever had to worry about before. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out, running his hands into his hair several times in rapid succession, squeezing his eyes shut and making a noise that causes the old woman across him to look over with a judging expression.

His chest hurts, aches and no matter how hard he rubs, or how deep his fingers dig into his skin it just won’t ease up.

They drive on, getting further and further away from the suburban parts of the city and eventually, he has to get off the bus when it stops at the terminal. In a brief moment of surreal panic as he steps off, Wille realizes he doesn’t know where to go, everything is unfamiliar and everything looks the same. It’s not as though he had exactly had a plan before hopping on the next bus to wherever. 

Wille wanders aimlessly around the central station and eventually finds himself inside a 24-hour Max Burger close to the airport trains with lurid lights and groups of rowdy customers. He sits in a corner away from everyone and hopes that he isn’t noticed

It’s nearly three a.m. if the time on his rapidly dying cellphone is correct, and he’s dozing when he feels someone slide in the booth next to him. Wille freezes, his anxiety spiking in a flaring sense of alarm as he looks up to see an older man watching him with interest.

The man must be at least ten or fifteen years older than he is and when he smiles Wille feels a shiver run through him that he doesn’t like one bit. The man isn’t necessarily bad-looking, but there’s something off-putting and almost predatory about the way his eyes run over Wille.

“Where are your friends?” The man asks and Wille looks toward the empty cup of soda in front of him, gone flat and warm after so many hours. 

“Here alone then?” The man presses when Wille does not answer and he narrows his eyes in irritation, snapping them towards him.

“You hungry?” The man asks, smiling, drumming his fingers on the linoleum table top, “You look like you haven’t eaten in a while.”

“I’m fine,” Wille says reaching for his cup just for something to do with his hands, playing with the rim painfully aware of the man’s eyes on him as he raises it to his lips. 

“I’ll buy you something if you want. You can even stay at my place if you don’t have somewhere to go—-“

Wille stands up sharply, grabbing his bag and the cup, “No thanks.” He bites out, pushing away from the man and dropping the cup in the bin.

Exiting the restaurant he looks back trying to be discreet to see if the person has had the brilliant idea to follow him, nervous in the sudden realization that he doesn’t really know where he could go to get away from someone like that if he were to be followed. 

His hands are shaking and he feels sick and exhausted and so wildly out of control that it’s completely blindsided him. Wille walks in the dim light of the summer night feeling how exhaustion pulls deep inside of him, every step heavy and becoming more and more difficult.

Finally, he finds a bench somewhat shielded from the road and the main pedestrian walkway and lays down, wrapping his arms around himself while feeling the metal bars dig into his ribs. 

He feels empty, his stomach and his chest and his limbs, every part of him is hollow and echoing with the thick burn of anxiety that slides down his throat. But he just stares ahead, exhausted and feeling more numb than he ever has. He stares into the distance until he is pulled into an uncomfortable and fitful sleep. 

What is he going to do? What can he do?

He’s completely alone now. 

Wille comes back and he’s no longer asleep on a bench in a secluded section of a park. He’s standing at the entrance of the parking garage, and Simon is gone. Probably already on the train by now. It’s dark except for the city lights which glow off of patches of snow and wet streets and he feels the wind chill as though he’s exposed to the night air.

Swallowing hard, Wille tucks his hands into his pockets, casts another look down the staircase as people come up and down, and finally turns toward the direction of where his car is parked.

It’s time to go home to his apartment where it’s harder to convince himself that he’s not as alone as he feels. 

___________

At home, in the slightly cluttered space of his apartment, Wille tries to ignore his phone.

It sits innocuously on his coffee table, silent, the screen turned down on his nightstand. Right now, these past few days it seems like all of his anxiety, the entire source of it, is rooted in that phone.

The unanswered message from Erik sits waiting to be answered.

The phone number Alex had slipped into his hand is in the pocket of his coat that’s hanging up in the narrow entry hall.

His message to Simon asking if he’d gotten home okay had gotten a simple all good.

Is it shorter than the messages Simon normally sends? Honestly, he doesn’t know, he feels like he’s second-guessing everything when most likely he’s building it up in his head due to the ever-present anxiety that’s just waiting for something to go wrong to show its head.

His fingers hesitate over the keypad, desperate to ask if he's upset with him, or if anything happened, if they are still good, but Wille knows how annoying that is, and he doesn’t want to annoy him. Simon had said he dealing with things and he should take that at face value

Felice had called him.

And then Nils.

They had messaged him in their group chat, but he hadn’t opened the notifications. 

But eventually he had ignored the buzzing of the phone after waiting for what felt like hours for a response from Simon or wondering if Alex had gotten his number from one of their old schoolmates and was the one somehow sending messages, he tried to and focused on cleaning his apartment, collecting all the glass and metal and cardboard that he’d been putting off taken to the recycling point, reorganizing all of the cables of his electronic devices so that they were loose everywhere, vacuuming up dust and washing the floors, scrubbing, and scrubbing.

He goes for a run, leaving his phone in the apartment, to try and force himself to stop thinking about it, but it doesn’t quite work. His limbs are screaming at him when he eventually comes back, exhausted and feeling like his lungs are on fire. He’s so tired that he only manages to shower quickly, avoiding his reflection in the mirror, before falling asleep. His body aches from every part, deep inside of him, a hungry emptiness that spreads over his organs and nerves and skin, but he doesn't feel like he deserves to do something about it.  His anxiety holds him captive in place, his mattress and pillows and blankets practically suffocating him, 

His dreams are uncomfortable and strange and when he wakes up he realizes that for one of the first times in a very long time, he had fallen asleep without his phone nearby.

When he reaches for it, it feels heavy in his hand and he thinks about all the notifications and things he’s left unanswered and feels overwhelmed especially when the first thing that comes up on his screen when he swipes open the Lock Screen.

His conversation with Erik which he had been looking over sits there, staring guilelessly back at him. 

Me

Merry Christmas

Erik

Merry Christmas Wille

Erik

I really hope you’re spending it with people you care about

Erik

I’m here if you ever need anything 

Wille stares at the messages for what feels like hours before he finally turns off his phone and puts it face down on the mattress beside him, feeling as though his body itself is sinking down into it.

He still hasn’t answered him. He keeps writing things and then deleting them and now with all the added stress from seeing Alex and possibly messing up his friendship with Simon, his head is nothing. It is a mess of jumbled insecurities. Sometimes, he feels like it would be better, and easier for himself and for everyone else if he just disappeared.

The thought is dark and makes him feel empty so he pushes his phone aside and closes his eyes, breathing low and steadily into the quiet dark of his room.

He must have fallen back asleep because he slowly comes to with the feeling that there’s something wrong. It takes him a while to come to his senses, for his eyes to adjust in the darkness of his bedroom, for him to feel his limbs and how they move, he hears sounds of movement outside his room, in the living space of his apartment and for a moment he thinks someone has broken in and there’s a swell of anxiety that has him pushing himself up off the mattress and staring at the crack of light coming through.

But he hears voices and it immediately puts him at ease when he recognizes them, falling back to his mattress with a groan that turns into a loud noise of protest when the door opens wider, light spilling onto his face.

“Wake up sleeping beauty” Nils sings, overly cheerful, “Mother has arrived!” 

“Fuck you, Nisse”

He sits up taking in his friend's appearance and the amused smile on his lips that belies the hint of concern he’s skilled enough at reading Nils to see.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, rubbing at his eyes.

“Oh, I’m not alone.”

“I’m here too!” He hears from the background and recognizes Felice’s voice.

“Okay then Let me rephrase. What are you two doing here? “

Nils is looking particularly cozy in a fuzzy turquoise sweater and his hair is styled, wavy, thick, and glossy. He definitely looks much more put together than how Wille feels at the moment.

“We’ve been messaging you for two days hun, it’s been pure radio silence over here so we came all the way down to  the middle of fuck all where you live.”

“Why?” 

Nils crosses the room, flicking on the light switch which floods his bedroom with light, and falls gracefully, or as graceful as he can manage, into the space beside him, “move over darling and make space for the real Queen of Sweden..”

“Surely you’re not referring to yourself.” He murmurs under his breath but shifts to the side to give him more room and meets his gaze when he adjusts himself on his side, elbow propped up.

“So, babe, love the whole ennui, sexy French depression thing you have going on.” He gestures around the dark room, but there’s no ridicule or judgment in his voice and when he turns back to Wille it takes on a gentler, softer tone that is only reserved for him and Felice, “But you know very well when you go too long ignoring me and Miss-three-on-the-Kinsey-scale out there we are going to show up and demand that you pay attention to us don’t you?”

He frowns and closes his eyes while Nils reaches out to push a strand of hair from his eyes. “And we brought food. Did you eat today?”

The thought of eating makes him feel sick and he sighs, running a hand over his face, “I had some tea.”

“Mmhmm,” Nils gives a concerned-sounding sigh and sits up, patting the mattress, “Well we brought your favorite and we brought croissants.”

“My favorite?” He trails off as Felice appears in the doorway, a hand on her hip looking at them with an exasperated snort.

“I’m literally busting my ass out here trying to make it look nice for dinner and you two are in here having a kiki and giggling like schoolgirls or something.”

Nils turns to give Wille a look with an exaggerated arch of his brow and a roll of his eyes that they all know is for show and Wille laughs softly, looking between them both.

He wants to feel embarrassed that he had worried them to the extent that they had arranged a whole ass intervention, but they’ve literally seen him at his worst, paper-thin and shaking on the bathroom floor, fighting with him outside a club because no you should not go home with a stranger when you’re in this state and through all his pity crying over all the things he hated about himself when times were truly desperate. There isn’t much that he hasn’t thrown at them, which is something he’s still trying to make peace with himself for. But he won’t apologize for it anymore because they always fiercely admonish him when he does. So while he feels bad for making them worry, having them here gives him such a sense of comfort.

“Alright baby come on up up up!” Nils bounces off the mattress and holds his hands out, wiggling his fingers and his hips and making Wille laugh at how silly he’s being as he helps peel him off the mattress, pushing a pair of slippers to his feet. Leaving the bed for the first time that day makes him feel exposed somehow. He’s extra conscious of his stale pajamas, his greasy hair, his picked-at skin. 

But while his mind is occupied with this, this self-degrading train of thought is broken by Felice, who catches him when he walks through the doorway, hugging him tightly with her head pressed to his chest, “I miss you, I feel like it’s been forever.”

“It’s only been a week.” He murmurs, wrapping his long arms around her and rocking them both side to side.

“That’s the same as forever. We hardly ever go a whole week without seeing each other.” She holds on a bit tighter, “You smell like roses.”

“That would be the old lady shampoo.” Nils shouts from the kitchen which makes Wille laugh, looser and lighter. 

“I think it smells nice.” The woman in his arms says, “Much better than like Nightpanther or Wolf Howl or whatever men's shampoo smells like these days.”

“Speaks for yourself,” Nils comes back bringing several cartons of takeout, “All the men love my Top Hunter handsoap.” 

They've brought Indian takeaway, the dishes he loves the most, palak paneer and channa masala, and crispy oily samosas that smell divine. 

But it’s stressful somehow, knowing that he’s worried them enough that they want to make sure he’s going to eat something. It frustrates him because he’s done so much work on himself, has worked out so much in his therapy sessions and through his art and his journals. It upsets him that he's made so much progress that even slipping just a small amount like this makes him feel like a massive failure. 

Erik. Alex. Simon. 

Wille feels wildly out of control with what's happening in his life right now and it’s always been that one thing that he has control over, twisted by the part of his brain that ignores logic and rationale and is fueled by self-hatred. 

But Felice and Nils just move around him, pouring glasses of cola,  gently drawing him in with their conversation until he’s sitting at the table with them, distracted by their teasing and the stories from the Christmas holiday, at some point Nils puts a playlist on the smart speaker and plays a dumb game where they have 5 seconds to guess each song.

It helps, having them here distracting him and making him laugh. The feeling of being out of control and anxious eases slightly and he manages to eat some of everything they’ve brought and doesn’t feel bad about it.

He makes a note to schedule another appointment with his therapist soon because this is the feeling he wants to keep, what he’s been working on. It’s not something that ever really goes away but he’s learned to manage it and he has better tools to approach it when he’s feeling this way and the best friends in the world who always make things less scary. 

After dinner, they clean up, put the leftovers in the fridge and Wille makes a pot of strong coffee that they take on a tray to the couch. He sits down next to Felice and melts a bit into her when she slips her arm into his and leans her head into the crook of his neck.

“So you two want to tell me the other reason you’re here?” He asks with an amused sigh, looking down at her. The cushion dips as Nils settles in beside him, tucking his socked feet up underneath him and grabbing a pillow to wrap his arms around.

“We miss you,” Felice says and he believes it, but it’s obvious there’s more to it than that. “How was your holiday with Simon?” She asks then.

Ah. There it is.

He thinks back to the days he spent with Simon in his family home and feels a rush of fondness, a kind of ache that is neither happy nor sad but sits just under his skin like a latent ache of wistful desire. He’d never had a family holiday like that, he’s never really had a family…well anything like that and it had felt both comforting and sorrowful to experience, as if he was somehow mourning the parts of his own childhood that were deficient in that sort of familial warmth.

“It was nice. We went to a Christmas market, and I helped bake a cake and no Nisse it didn’t burn. Simon’s family is really nice and Sara….”

He trails off remembering what Simon’s sister had said to him the evening they had arrived in Bjärstad. 

I really hope you know what you’re doing

Felice nudges hun, “How is Sara? She seemed pretty happy on the phone.”

“Oh yeah, she seemed good.” He murmurs and looks down at her.

“I keep trying to convince her to move to Stockholm, but she says it’s too busy and loud and expensive.”

“Well, that’s not wrong.” Wille laughs a bit.

“Busy?” Nils snorts, “You two would never survive in a South Asian city. Stockholm is a fucking village .”

“Expensive,” Wille replies to which Nils hums.

“Well, at least when you have to survive on an average salary  and you don’t have a trust fund to fall back on.” He teases them lightly very aware that neither of his friends has ever really had to worry about money before. 

“So…while we are on the topic of spending the holiday with The Erikkson clan.” Nils rests his chin on his fist looking over at him, “What’s actually going on between you and Simon? We aren’t stupid babe. You’re already meeting the parents? Just admit that you’re dating and this holiday was a test run with his family.”

Felice giggles a bit as they both wait impatiently and Wille’s mind blanks for a moment.

She leans back, sitting up straight to see him better, both of his friends staring at him and the fact that it’s taking him forever to respond.

“Wait, did something happen between you two? Is that what’s going on? And why you’re so stressed?”

“No, no that's not….” He sighs, tilting his head back and groaning softly, “Look Simon and I aren’t together—-“

“Please hun I know what sex eyes are.” Comes Nisse's voice from the couch.

“Sex eyes?”

“Eyes you give to someone when you’re having sex with them.”

“Not to mention all the little touches…” Felice adds and he runs a hand over his face.

“Okay. Simon and I are….doing a friends-with-benefits thing.”

The reaction is instantaneous, Nils lets out a scandalized gasp of shock, expression twisting in amusement, a hand raised to his lips while Felice lets out a loud what?!  

“Oh, I was so right about the sex eyes.” Nils cackles.

“We are sleeping together okay, but we aren’t together, and like we are both free to see other people.”

“Very on brand for you.” Nils remarks and Felice reaches over and hits him on the shoulder harder than she probably intended because he sucks in a breath and gives her a look of betrayal, “Excuse you!”

Ignoring him she turns to Wille in earnest, “But wait you have feelings for Simon right? Like you like him I thought—“

“I never said that.” 

“Oh come on Wille I’m not blind !”

Nils is still pursing his lips and rubbing at his shoulder but looks over at him curiously waiting for him.

“I’m…” he pauses and closes his eyes, taking a breath, “It’s complicated. I think…I’m not really sure, maybe I do but….I don’t know how he feels. He was the one who set the terms for this thing and told me that he doesn’t want to be in a relationship and like…I have to respect that—“

“Wille you shouldn’t be sleeping with him if you have feelings for him and he doesn’t want a relationship,” Felice says, worry evident in her voice and expression.

“Why not?” Comes Nils from next to him with an incredulous expression, “Why should he turn down a good time with someone who wants to have sex with him?”

“Because,” she leans over, to look at Nils from across Wille who feels suddenly caught between them, “ if he has real feelings for him and Simon just wants sex that's going to hurt him in the long run because obviously he wants something Simon can’t give him and that eats away at you.”

Nils furrows his brow, “But….then he’s going to turn down sex with someone who’s hot and wants him? Ummm couldn’t be me.”

“I swear sometimes I really question how men’s minds work.” Felice scoffs, shaking her head and staring at Nils with wide eyes.

“Okay okay.” Wille sighs raising a hand and looking between them with a sigh, “Look I told him if it gets to be too much then we can stop…but honestly there’s a lot going on right now…”

“Like?”

“I messaged Erik back.”

“Oh”

“Shit.”

“Yeah he reached out to me over the holiday and I…messaged him back for the first time.”

“Oh my god Wille I’m so proud of you—“

“That’s fucking amazing babe—“

“And then…” He cuts them off, “.I haven’t said anything else yet I was planning to but…I ran into Alexander the other night—“ 

He pauses for their noises of shock, but it doesn’t come and he looks at them and sees how they both seem tensely quiet, sharing looks with one another. 

“What?” He asks.

With a frown Nils runs a hand through his hair, sighing deeply before he speaks, “We knew he was back in town. But you already ran into him…damn babe… that's fucking rough.”

He’s not surprised, Stockholm is pretty small as far as cities go and it’s no surprise that all of his former classmates have eyes on what each other is up to. 

“Yeah.”

“So how do you feel about it?” Felice asks softly, putting a hand on his thigh. 

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, “Well it really fucking threw me because I haven’t seen or heard from him since I got kicked out and…yeah…” he takes a breath, “Now I just feel like I’m all over the place and I don’t know what to…think about.”

It’s a good analogy, it feels almost like his heart has been dissected into multiple pieces and scattered in different corners, like the things that had occupied his heart and mind are suddenly at a loss and being tugged in too many directions.

“Oh Wille…” Felice says softly at his side and reaches for his hand. “That’s…I’m sorry.”

He hadn’t even told them how and when he had run into Alex either. Literally the moment he and Simon had almost…that they probably would have kissed for the first time outside of their arrangement while his mind was racing with what it meant and the possibilities that it suggested.

“Yeah.”

“What did he say?”

Feeling their curious gazes on him, Wille sighs and shrugs, unsure how to really put the emotion into words, “I don’t know. It’s shit, isn’t it? Because it’s taken a long time for me to come to peace with what happened back then…and him showing up so suddenly really took me off guard…he looks…well he seems like he’s doing good. And he gave me his number. He said we should talk.”

“Oh wow and are you going to call him?” Felice asks in a quiet voice biting worriedly at her lip.

He thinks about it, feeling the familiar ache in his chest when he thinks about Alex, and finally nods, “Yeah…I think so…like I’ve thought about him a lot over the years…you know what happened to us wasn’t fair…it was really fucked up actually…in that situation, there wasn’t really much he could do either. We were both trapped in a way…” Wille chews at his thumb, rubbing at his chest and taking a deep breath.

“You’ve got a lot on these shoulders, hun,” Nils says, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a rare, genuinely soft smile, eyes a bit sad. “What can we do to help?”

“I think I just need to stop avoiding things. I reached out to Erik because I wanted to talk to him again. I want to try and fix things…and with Alex…yeah I want to talk to him, I want to know if he’s okay and how his life is now…”

They sit in silence for a moment and then Felice says, “And Simon? Is there something you’re avoiding when it comes to him?” 

Looking into her dark brown eyes Wille feels suddenly put on the spot as he thinks about Simon. Simon with his eclectic music tastes and pretty curly hair, the curve of his lips when he smiles and the rough edge to his voice when he laughs, the weight of his hand on his shoulder, the way his fingers card through Wille’s hair when he’s kissing him into the mattress. 

Is there something he’s ignoring when it comes to Simon?

“No,” he lies.

Felice sighs, giving a small shake of her head, but she doesn’t press further.

The evening stretches on, as the three of them make conversation, but mostly Wille just listens as his friends talk, letting their voices and laughter wash over him, half listening as he looks out the window at the new snow that’s starting to fall outside in the dark sky. 

_____________

Wille is stalking Simons's Instagram. 

Okay, stalking perhaps isn’t the best word considering he had literally uploaded a photo of them and tagged Wille. But after liking the photo he had become distracted going through the other’s older pictures.

Simon has deleted a lot of photos since the first time that Wille had looked through after he showed up again in the office out of seemingly nowhere.  He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen his photos before, but he was following his music career after all and that wasn’t unusual, right?

Luckily some of Wille’s favorites are still there, and yes, he admits it is odd to have favorite photos of someone else, but he does. 

There’s a picture from a few years ago, on holiday somewhere much warmer than here, wearing a graphic t-shirt, curls wilder and windswept, and the caption lyrics from a song he had released a few months later. 

There’s something so intriguing in Simon’s expression and the careless relaxed way he’s sitting, leaning back in his seat and mid-conversation. It makes him smile, more so now because he can almost bet he’s talking about something he loves, his guard is down and he just looks happy. 

He realizes he hasn’t actually liked the picture and so he does, continuing to scroll before swiping back to his feed.

The message comes in not even a minute later.

simmesimme

Caught you 😎

He freezes, staring at his screen before changing a glance at the clock beside his bed. It’s nearly 3 a.m. Simon never stays up this late. Wille would know because his own sleep schedule is absolutely fucked. Sitting up slightly he squints at the screen and debates whether or not he should answer now and finally has to admit if it would be a sick move to ignore it.

Swallowing his nerves he swipes into the chat knowing he has no choice now that the message is showing as read.

Willetalks

Why are you awake?

simmesimme

I’m on vacation. I’m an adult. I do what I want !!

simmesimme

Why are you avoiding my text messages?

He stills and then remembers suddenly that he has in fact been receiving notifications from Simon for a while now, but since he’s been kind of avoiding messages he had decided to answer later and then just had forgotten.

Willetalks 

I’m not avoiding. Sorry I just forgot to go back and look

It’s a lie and immediately he feels guilty and wrong for saying it. They’ve always been able to talk openly with each other, he’s always wanted Simon to feel comfortable being honest with him.

Wille swipes out of Instagram and goes to find their chat.

[Dec 26]

Me

Did you get home alright?

Simon🍊

all good

[Dec 28]

Simon🍊

Hey how are you?

Simon🍊

I saw this guy wearing something I think you’d like. It looks like it’s come straight out of the 90s I know that’s your whole thing

Simon🍊

I cooked lunch for the first time in forever and I didn’t burn it !! I deserve all the awards 

Simon🍊

Hey do you want to meet for a coffee soon? I feel like I need to explain some things to you

Simon🍊

Hey Wille is Everything Good? Maddie said you’re not answering anyone’s messages 

Simon🍊

Hope everything is okay 

Me

Hey

Me

Shit I’m sorry

Me

Maybe I have kind of been avoiding

But not just you….everyone

Me 

I just don’t know…it’s been weird

Simon🍊

Hi

Simon🍊

It’s okay I get that🧡

Me

I wasn’t ignoring just you

Me

Really 

Simon🍊

I knowwwwww wille 

Simon🍊

Did you read my messages?

Me

Yeah I just did. I cant believe you managed to cook

 something and not burn it. 

Pics or it didn’t happen

Simon🍊

Shut up everyone knows you’re the 

shitty cook mr cheese and cucumber sandwich.

Me

Ummmm

Simon🍊

Mr oh This Mayo is too spicy 

Me

This is slander! 

That was one time and that shit had birds eye chili in it??? 

I eat spicy food all the time ?? 

Me

You’re the one who doesn’t like nutella

Simon🍊

Straw man fallacy

Me

It’s pretty fucking weird that you don’t 

like CHOCOLATE SPREAD okay 

Simon🍊

Nutella is not chocolate! It’s weird hazelnut spread that had the texture of

like the thickest goop known to man 

Simon🍊

They could literally use that to build houses it’s so thick

Me

If you saw my face you’d see that I’m shaking 

my head and looking very disturbed

Simon🍊

Call me then coward. Call me weird to my face! 

Call him? 

Wille looks at the clock and how late it is (or early depending on your perspective) and sits up, self-consciously trying to straighten his messy hair, hesitating only briefly before pressing the call button.

It takes only a short minute before the video connects and he sees Simon peering into his screen washed in the red lights of the lamp on his bedside table.

“Why are you awake?” Wille asks and on the other end, there is loud shuffling as Simon apparently is trying to set his phone up so he can speak hands-free. After a moment his face reappears, curls damp and drying around his ears and temple as though he’d recently taken a shower.

“Can’t sleep well for some reason. I saw you liking old photos and just wanted to see how you are doing.”

“I’m okay,” Wille says, adjusting his sleep shirt, an old one from university that still has paint and bleach stains from years of wear.

Simon purses his lips and nods “So you read my messages?”

“Yeah”

“Can we meet tomorrow for a coffee…I mean today I guess. I’ll buy. If you’re not busy.”

“I'm not busy…sure I don’t mind.” He says quickly, drawing a smile from Simon. He hopes he doesn’t sound overeager. It’s only been a few days but he misses him, it feels strange to not have spoken in so long.

“Great.” Simon smiles at him on the other end and then makes a face when he sees the time on his alarm, “Well I’m going to try and get some sleep otherwise tomorrow you’ll be meeting a zombie version of me.”

“I meet the zombie version of you every morning at work.”

“Oh shut up.” 

Wille smiles, laughing quietly, “Go to sleep Simon.”

“I am.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Wille.” He pauses for a moment and it looks like he’s struggling to say something. Wille waits and finally, Simon speaks again, “Things will be okay. They’ll work out, yeah?”

Blinking, he feels a swell of fondness for his friend and he nods, “Yeah. You’re right.”

They say goodbye and he turns his phone face down on the mattress, falling back to close his eyes and take a deep breath.

Simon is right. Things will work out.

_______

It’s around midday that they meet at a cafe close to Odenplan, it’s small and traditional, definitely not what would be considered trendy or Instagrammable, but it’s quiet and devoid of loud teenagers and business professionals on laptops that take up all the tables.

Both of them order filter coffees and Simon insists on buying Wille a slice of princesstårta when he’s at the cashier to pay.

The sight of the bright green marzipan-covered pastry full of cream makes him feel slightly nauseous, but he smiles and thanks his friend anyway and they take their cakes and cups of coffee to a table in the back.

“So…I feel like I owe you an explanation for the other night,” Simon says without preamble, watching him slightly nervously.

Wille refocuses on him, on the way he runs his fingers over the scuffed tabletop, expression faltering before taking hold of the warm coffee cup with both hands. 

“Simon you don’t have to—“

“I told you I wanted to talk about it, but that night was just…a lot so I couldn’t really put it into words then.”

Wille quiets and waits for him to continue. 

“So…what you did. Buying tickets to the concert and surprising me, it was really really kind of you. And I loved it. Really I did. It was amazing.”

Wille feels some of his anxiety subside at the words and breathes out softly, “I’m glad. I wasn’t so sure how you felt at first.” He hadn’t really been sure when they had arrived and Simon had gone so quiet, for a moment he had felt as though he had done something wrong.

“It…no it really meant a lot to me. It’s hard to explain but…I quit music…because of shit with my father.”

Wille sits up a bit, listening carefully, sensing how Simon's posture and voice have changed, how he seems to deflate slightly. 

“He’s the one who introduced me to music and taught me to play the keyboard and the guitar and…that was our special thing you know? And then he started using and drinking and turned into this different person…and I wanted to distance myself from him completely.” Fingertips tap against the tabletop, drawing absent patterns on the lackluster surface as Simon takes a moment before he continues.

“And then when he died almost two years ago now...I hated that I was grieving him. I hated it because I thought I had cut him off and out of my life but I realized it wasn’t true because his death hit me hard…and completely devastated any joy I had in making music like losing him had been the same as losing that connection to music…and you know I told you that he used to take me to concerts like that and—-“

“Oh shit.” Wille says suddenly feeling like the world's biggest idiot, “I didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry…”

He thinks about looking over and seeing Simon wiping away tears during the concert, thinks of the way his heart had squeezed, and how he’d wanted nothing but to show him that he was there for him. The way their fingers had intertwined in perfect symmetry. Knowing the context for that now Wille feels annoyed with himself, for somehow thinking this was about him and not even considering Simon could be going through his own shit too. 

“No no … it’s fine. It’s just I was sitting in the concert and reliving all these memories and I just came to this point where I understood that I just have to let all that pain go because it’s pulling me down. It was just a very emotional thing…it was draining you know? And enlightening….And I think…maybe that introspection I was having came off as me not enjoying myself or something but I really loved it. It was…such a nice thing to do Wille and so I want to thank you again.”

Simon pauses and looks down into his coffee cup and it looks like there’s more he wants to say, hanging on a single breath Wille waits, leaning forward slightly. He wants to ask him what that had been about, at the end before Alex had shown up. He wants to know if he has been imagining the whole thing or not. Wille swallows as he waits and Simon looks up at him through his lashes, bites his lip, and then the eye contact breaks and he takes a sip.

“So…how are you though?” Simon says after a beat, clearing his throat, “It can’t have been easy….seeing your ex after all this time.” 

Wille blinks at the sudden redirection of the conversation and the questions he’s been thinking about still in his mind, if Simon is asking him this…it hurts his head a bit.

“Um…no…it wasn’t…actually it wasn’t easy. It brought back a lot of unresolved things.” He says in the most honest way he can.

“…yeah I can imagine.” The other agrees softly, taking a bite of his own cake and setting the fork down. Wille hadn’t touched his. “So…he gave you his number…are you going to call him?”

“I…I think so…I think I should.” Wille says, thinking back to what he’s told Nils and Felice 

“I mean…do you want to?” Simon asks, looking up at him again and Wille can’t lie to him even though it feels strange to admit to the person he’s sleeping with.

But as he’s told his friends, they might be sleeping together but they aren’t actually together after all. 

“I mean….he was right when he said we have a lot to talk about. But I don’t know what that means. If anything.”

Simon nods, sipping at his coffee, and looks up at him, “Yeah…would you…ever think about getting back together with him?” 

Wille blinks, not expecting that question. He’d be lying if he hadn’t wondered about it over the years if he hadn’t thought about it after seeing him the other night. They had barely said much, but sure…he wondered sometimes if Alex ever missed him or thought about their relationship, or if he ever wished they hadn’t broken up.

“I….” Simon is watching him expectantly and he doesn’t know why this feels so odd to admit to him, to the person he’s sleeping with. “I mean…sure I’ve thought about it.”

They always had the understanding that they were free to meet other people so he’s not sure why he should feel this odd admitting this out loud, but the moment he’s said it he feels as though he shouldn’t have.

Simon nods and takes another sip of his coffee, “Well I think you should talk to him. You must have a lot of unresolved feelings and everything…”

“Yeah.” He murmurs, looking down at his plate of barely-eaten cake and feeling nauseous. Why does he feel a little disappointed to hear that from him?

Their conversation moves on to other things and after a while the two of them move from the cafe, walking to the nearest underground station to drop Wille off.

“You’re going to the party right?” Simon asks him as they bundle up again and tumble out into the icy winter streets. There’s a vicious wind that whips at their faces and they find themselves hunched over toward one another, hands buried deep in the pockets of their coats, backs to the wind.  

“The party?”

“Stella’s New Year’s party? The one she has every year?”

Oh fuck. He had forgotten. So that’s what Felice and Nils had been talking about the other night.

The same New Year’s party where he had almost hooked up with Simon. That thing Simon doesn’t remember and Wille still hasn’t told him.  

Yeah . 

“Are you?” Wille asks, cursing softly as a blast of icy wind catches him on the cheek.

“Yeah, I thought I would. And stay sober this time.” His friend manages, gasping a bit and cursing at the shock of wind, grimacing.  Wille feels another stab of guilt that he’s kept the truth from him all this time. Is it lying? If Simon doesn’t know or expect anything? If he hadn’t asked? It may not be lying, but it certainly feels morally grey.

“I’ll be there.” He says after a moment and Simon grins up at him, “Maddie is having a pre-party at her and Rosh’s place. Sara is coming into town as well. I was going to invite her along…you should ask Nils and Felice to join if you want to. We can all go together.”

Nodding, Wille smiles a bit at him. It sounds like the perfect occasion to relax a little although it probably won’t help to quash the rumors that he has feelings for Simon. It might just make his friends more hellbent on believing it. 

“Okay yeah. I’ll ask. That sounds fun.” 

Simon steps in to give him a hug goodbye as they finally are too cold to stand there and delay. He squeezes him tightly. 

Felice’s words come back to him.

Is there something you’re ignoring when it comes to Simon?

Wille doesn’t know how to answer that question any longer.

___________

After breaking most of the tension during the fika “date” they’d had Wille and Simon arrive at Maddie’s together on the evening of the 30th before they all pile in the limo (yes a fucking limo) that Felice had rented to take them to Stella’s countryside mansion.

There’s a handful of people already there and the energy is good, fun, and vibrant. Someone had tried pushing drinks in their hands as soon as they entered but while Wille had gratefully taken a beer, it seems Simon is keeping true to his word to stay sober and sticks to cola instead.

It feels like normal, like before, which is relieving for Wille. They stick together in Maddie’s place as the others get more and more drunk as time passes. Wille is still nursing the same drink as when they first arrived, sitting on the sofa, pressed against Simon’s side even though there’s probably enough room that he doesn’t need to be so close.

Felice and Sara are talking animatedly about something in the corner while Ayub and a friend he had brought are arguing with Rosh and Simon about some video game Wille has never heard of before. Wille just contents himself to listen, perking up as Ayub and Simon’s conversation turns to music.

Rosh excuses themself and goes to find Maddie who is applying her eyeliner on the floor in front of a full-body-length mirror chatting with Nils who is holding a glass of something sparkly. He watches briefly as Rosh sits down behind their girlfriend and Maddie leans against them.

“So how far have you gotten with the song?” 

Wille turns at the words to look at Ayub who has spoken them and Simon, sitting at his side, pauses. 

Song?

“Song? Are you writing a song?” He asks with interest, looking down at his friend who is having an odd conversation with Ayub using only his eyes.

“Not really—-“

“Yeah, he is,” Ayub says ignoring the way Simon’s gaze widens incredulously, Ayub just gives him an odd look that Wille doesn’t understand the context of and then to his surprise looks directly at Wille and smirks . 

“Oh, that’s great Simon.” Looking between Ayub and Simon, he tries to understand the missing piece of this interaction that he isn’t quite understanding, “I knew you were writing again, but I didn’t know you were recording something as well.”

Simon closes his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly out his nose and shooting Ayub a look before then to him, “Okay yeah.  I’m working on it now, but it’s not finished yet. Hopefully, it will be finished by the middle of the month.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” Wille says in earnest, hearing Ayub snort from across them.

“Thanks, Wille.” His friend smiles softly, smoothing over the fabric of his pants, the same ones he had worn that night at the concert, made of some kind of faux black leather that makes his ass look incredible. 

In fact, Simon always looks good, but he looks especially nice tonight, dressed up for New Year's. 

They are all a little more fancy and sparkly than normal, but Wille finds that it’s hard to take his eyes off of him in his silvery, nearly sheer shirt, those pants and the pretty way his hair has been purposely styled.

When had Simon gotten that shirt? 

As if catching his lingering eyes, Simon smiles a bit at him, tucking his curls behind his ear and Wille suddenly feels the air shift. Maybe if this ends up being a good night, maybe Simon would want to come back to his. They haven’t slept together since Bjärstad and Wille has all these different narratives in his head, but the only one he can make sense of right now is the one that still very much wants him. 

And he’s not imagining it, right? The not-so-subtle ways Simon’s hands linger on him, the way he leans close into his space even though the sofa isn’t really all that crowded. The looks Simon gives him from under his eyelashes when he sips at his drink.

Wille would let him do anything when he looks at him like that.

“Alright, everyone!” Maddie says, interrupting his fantasizing with a loud clap. She strides into the center of the room, all ready to go, wearing colorful eyeshadow with rhinestones placed around her eyes. She’s dressed in a purple, velvety dress with dramatic sleeves and a celestial golden motif and her hair is in a complicated braided design that looks very time-consuming. “It’s time to head out, make sure you get all your stuff but no worries if you leave something here you have a week to come get it until it becomes property of Madirosh.”

She pauses, blinking as her head turns in the direction of the sofa where Wille realizes Ayub is raising his hand. There's some laughter that goes through the group at the sight, but Maddie doesn’t miss a beat, “Yes?”

“Did Felice really rent a limo to take us?” Ayub asks and Wille sees his friend in question look over to Ayub.

“I did,” Felice says cheerfully, and the room begins to clap.

“Rich people,” Wille leans in, murmuring to Simon who grins a bit before sliding off the couch and holding out a hand to him which he takes to pull himself off the couch. 

“Well, sometimes they are good for certain things after all.”

They grin at each other and head out with the others, bumping hips, Simon laughing when Wille stumbles a bit. 

______________

Stella’s family home is a giant place out in the countryside with sprawling grounds and posh facilities like pools, tennis courts, and even fully facilitated stables. It’s beautiful, in an excessive, obnoxiously rich way. It reminds Wille of his childhood in an odd way, being carted along to bourgeoisie party after bourgeoisie party so his parents could schmooze with highbrow society.  

The interior has been decked out for this event in lights and fun things like a photo booth and machines that shoot out streams of perfect floating soap bubbles that glisten like oil slicks and pop midair.   

The main room of the party is in the estate’s ballroom, which has been set up with a DJ booth and colored lights that cast the whole place in blues and greens. The chandelier sparkles above them and the music echoes through the rooms and halls, spilling out of the windows and doorways. The tables lining the wall are full of what seems to be an endless supply of drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

Wille imagines the evening is going to get very loud and it’s quite helpful that the place sits on a large piece of land so the noise won’t bother anyone nearby which means the party can go on uninterrupted.

There seems to already be a large number of people here by the time their group comes and starts to separate into the crowd, but he and Simon stick together, grabbing a few drinks from the table and observing from the wall.

“You want to dance later?” Wille asks and sees how the question makes Simon pause.

“Oh...yeah sure.” The other man says quickly and Wille feels the back of his neck flush slightly, sipping at his drink to try and smooth it over. Should he not have asked that? 

He’s about to say something more when he notices Felice and Nils heading toward them. He raises a hand, beckoning them over.

“What are you two wall flowers doing over here?” Nils asks, reaching for Wille’s arm and giving Simon a little wink that seems to make him flush.

“We just got some drinks, we’re going to dance in a bit you should join us.” 

Simon beside him tenses slightly and Felice looks toward him before looking back to Wille with a frown. Blinking at her, he furrows his brow looking back at Simon who is looking into the glass of soda in his hand, expression oddly neutral. Fuck what did he do now? He thought making it a group thing would put less pressure on all of them. 

Before they have time to continue speaking Stella passes them, an arm around Frederika who is giggly drunk, and leaning into her, amorously kissing her neck, “Hi! Everyone! Wow, it’s been like forever!”

“Hey Stella….Frederika.” 

Beaming up at him the dark-haired woman waves, leaning her head into her blonde girlfriend’s shoulder, “Hey Wille…”

“By the way guess who just showed up!” Stella leans forward, yelling over the music and Wille leans forward as well out of curiosity.

“Who?”

Stella motions with a jerk of her head across the room while simultaneously sliding her arm around Frederika's waist and pulling her closer, turning into her to kiss her lips.

When he looks over he freezes and it’s like a fucking repeat of last year's party except for this time Simon is standing next to him and it’s fucking Alexander that is leaning on the wall, one hip jutting out and an arm draped across his waist, looking around with a glass of champagne in his hand. 

He’s wearing a black, form-fitting turtleneck sweater and a glitzy necklace and his hair is stylishly tousled, unlike the last time he had seen him. And what the fuck he’s wearing eyeliner.

Immediately he remembers for probably the hundredth time that day, that he has yet to reach out to him, even after saying he would and he feels how the guilt curls in his stomach and stays there twisted and gnawing at him.

“Oh.” Nils says from beside him with a low whistle, “Well look at him. Finance daddy .”

Wille’s brain does something close to flatlining when Alex suddenly marks that he is looking and turns toward them, striding forward with a confidence that is frankly a bit overwhelming.

“He’s coming over here,” Felice says with a scandalized-sounding gasp.

“Yes, I’m aware of that.” Wille hisses at both of them, catching the way Simon is looking at him, curiously and with an odd smile on his lips.

“Well, I guess you’re going to end up talking to him after all.” His friend murmurs and is that disappointment that Wille hears in his voice?

He doesn’t have much time to ponder that before the other man is in front of them. He and Simon are close in height, although Simon’s curls give him a little extra perception-wise. 

“Hey guys,” Alex says, looking around the group and raising a hand.

Nils gives him an overly sweet smile, looking him up and down and lingering on the way the sweater clings to his body. “Well hello—“ there's a cough that he releases when Felice nudges him a little too hard.

Alex’s eyes scan until he finds Wille who prepares himself for him to ask if they can talk or something. He feels awkward and guilty that he hasn’t reached out to him yet, but surprisingly his eyes skip over him and settle on Simon who blinks and looks between the group for a moment in confusion.

“Simon, are you having a good night?” Alex asks politely looking briefly at the cola in his hands, “Not drinking?”

“Uh…no.” Simon looks down at the can and then back up at him, blinking, “I mean yes…I’m having fun. No, I'm not drinking.”

Alex nods and then he continues, “Do you mind if we speak for a moment?”

The entire group goes dead silent, even more so than before and Wille feels the strangest sense of panic Well up inside him. What the fuck? What the actual fuck?

Simon stares at him, but Alexander’s gaze is steady and intentional and he waits patiently for an answer which finally comes out in a stuttered, “Oh uh…sure…right now?”

“Right now would be great if that’s okay.”

Looking back at Wille for a moment in confusion he tips back the rest of his soda, puts it on the surface of the piece of furniture beside him, and follows Alex outside through the glass screen doors, wrapping his arms around himself.

Wide-eyed Wille turns to his friends, “ What the fuck?”

Nil’s eyes are wide and he reaches out for Felice who grabs his arm back as they both turn to stare at Wille.

“Oh my god I love gay people, we are so fucking dramatic .” Nils gasps and Wille reaches out to push him before stepping close.

They all crane their necks to watch around the people. Wille wishes he could hear what they were talking about. Alex is speaking, and every so often Simon nods, and then Alex goes quiet and he assumes Simon is talking as well.

“What do you think they are talking about?” Wille asks in a panic.

“A threesome?” Nils says and both Felice and Wille sigh in exasperation.

“But to be serious…I mean they have to be talking about you .” Nils says and he doesn’t really know what to think then, because what the fuck

It seems like forever that the two of them are outside speaking, Wille can see how Simon is fidgeting, most likely from having the stand in the cold in nothing but his thin sweater.

It seems like forever before they are finished talking, but in reality, it’s probably only five to ten minutes at the most.

Alexander comes back inside, following Simon who has an expression that is difficult to read. Wille waits for him to head back over so he can ask what had happened, but to his surprise, Simon turns in the other direction and slips out of the room.

“Oh…” he hears Felice murmur beside him.

His stomach sinks as he stares at the place Simon had just been, it’s almost like an automatic instinct to take a step forward, to go after him but he realizes then at the same time, Alex is headed straight towards him.

There’s a strange buzzing under his skin, a worried anxiety over what had happened and why Simon had left like that but then he sees him reappear on the other side, where Sara is with a few others, slipping into their group, laughing and leaning into something his sister says.

Some of the initial panic eases over then but he’s still confused and wants to know what exactly it was that they talked about.. 

“Hi…..again.” Alexander approaches, eyes trained on Wille and he takes a moment to look at him fully,

Alex looks expensive and the eyeliner is doing a number on him, he’s definitely never seen him wearing makeup, and is that a piercing? 

“I was wondering if you would come talk to me a bit.” He motions toward the hallway and Wille knew it was coming, he was almost waiting for it, but he’s not sure he’s ready.

Looking over at his friends, Felice has a complicated expression on her features but Nils just arches an eyebrow and gives him this look like “ be decisive bitch” which is much easier to agree to when he isn’t on the spot like this.

“Yeah, sure,” Wille says after a beat and follows him down the hall and into a relatively quiet room. It’s not empty, there’s a bit of overflow from the party, and the music filters in through the speakers that are connected through the house, but there’s a quiet corner to talk and no one is paying attention to them.

He can feel Alex’s eyes on him and he takes a deep breath, looking down to meet his gaze, “I’m sorry I didn’t call…I think I was a little more surprised to see you than I let on.”

“Yeah I get that…” Alexander rubs the back of his neck, looking away with a grimace, “I felt bad…kind of just ambushing you with no warning, but when I saw you I just had to say something…”

There’s a pause and the man seems to find the words he’s been looking for, stepping a little closer. “I’m really sorry Wille…for how things ended between us.”

A sigh escapes him, eyes closing for a moment as he rubs his temple, it’s heavy, all of this is so heavy. “I…I don’t hold a grudge against you Alex, you know that right?”

The other man takes a sharp breath, running his hand over his face, “I left you…to deal with everything, with the fallout with your family and…I just left you alone while I went to university…dated girls joined a fraternity and tried to pretend I was just like the rest of them.”

Wille looks over at him, at the way he shakes his head, fingers tightening on the neck of the beer bottle.

“It’s fucked up. It’s not even that it matters who I want to sleep with, it was just…I felt like I had failed my parents somehow, pulling them into scandal and rumors after everything they did for me. It was fucking scary to realize that the life I really wanted for myself wasn’t the one that would be the easiest.”

“Alex…”

“I heard rumors that you…got kicked out and that you were homeless…fuck that’s not…did that really happen?” When he looks at his ex he sees genuine worry and despair in his dark eyes. 

Wille frowns deeply, looking away from him for a moment, he hates that after all these years, after how proud he is of himself and what he managed to accomplish, hates that he still can’t help but feel a stab of inferiority, “Yeah. It might have been over-exaggerated but…yeah…”

“God Wille.” Alex puts his hand on his arm, “I’m so sorry….”

“It’s not your fault Alex.” He murmurs casting his gaze downward admins sighing from deep in his chest, “it’s was really fucked what happened to us. Both of us.”

“Yeah.” The other man takes a long sip from his whiskey, looking at him from the corner of his eye. 

“So…while we were apart. What happened? How was your life?”

“I went to Princeton you know... It kind of sucked the first few years, but I started liking it more towards the end. And then I moved to Shanghai to start in my mother's company.”

“Was it difficult there?”

“Actually…no. Not really. Shanghai is where I kind of, at the risk of sounding cliche, found myself. Met people…guys.” He adds when Wille gives him an inquisitive look, “like I don’t want to pretend it’s some kind of heaven for queer people because it’s not…but I felt free there. To be myself. Maybe it’s because I was so far away from home, and felt like I could reinvent myself in a way. Maybe because everyone saw me as a foreigner in some ways so they didn't hold me to the same standards. But yeah. A lot of people came and went.”

“Did anyone stay?”

Alex smiles a bit, laughing softly, “Yeah. One.”

“And now?”

“Oh, we broke up. A while ago”

“I’m sorry…”

“Oh no…it was mutual. We are still friends, you know. It’s all good.” 

With a hum in the back of his throat, he nods. He’s happy for him, that he is more comfortable and more unapologetic about who he is, but it’s still odd somehow, because of how they last parted. How that whole evening changed his life so much, it just feels surreal.

After a longer beat of silence, Alex clears his throat and lets out a quiet laugh, “I’m kind of jealous of you…having all these queer experiences…being so expressive…having all these queer friends, a support network. It’s something I’ve always wanted.”

“You can have that too Alex. There’s still so much out there”

He nods, looking down into the whiskey glass, “Yeah…but I think for most of my life I felt like I couldn't have that and what I wanted to achieve career-wise…I don’t know why but I just never saw examples of that and—”

“You don’t have to be in the closet or something in order to be successful” 

Alex smiles at him, a finger tracing the rim of his glass, “Yeah, I know…which is interestingly part of the reason I moved back here and started my own thing from the bottom up. I thought that maybe I could have a little more freedom in that regard…that those two things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

“No Alex, they don’t. I mean I know I’m in a different field than you, like…I fit the artist description and all but…like people rarely fit into a mold. You don’t have to deny yourself ….the experience of being queer, whatever that is for you, in order to be successful.” And Wille believes that, Nils is a very successful banker and he’s out, it took his family some getting used to, but it isn’t necessarily something that has held him back in his career. Maybe it’s a privilege, and maybe there are obstacles, but they've made so much progress over the years that it shouldn’t stop him from living the way he wants.

“Yeah, I’m learning that….are you…” He pauses, and seems a little unsure for the first time during this entire interaction between them, “Does it bother you that I’m back?”

Wille looks at him, “Bother me? No…” he pauses feeling the lie come so naturally, “Well…I don’t want to say that it bothers me…that you’re back. But…I’ll admit that it wasn’t easy seeing you again.”

“Yeah, I get that. Honestly, I moved back and wasn’t sure if I should reach out or not…but running into you kind of felt like I was supposed to.” The way his words trail off slowly makes Wille feel like he’s not quite finished, “Although I kind of felt like I was interrupting something.”

Wille straightens a bit as he feels Alexander’s eyes on him, intense.

“Look, I don't want to play games. I want you back Wille, I want to be with you again. I thought about you so much while I was gone. Nearly every day.” Alex turns to him with a hard-set expression in his dark eyes, decided and intent and Wille feels his heart skip slightly.

I want to be with you

Damn does it feel good to hear this, spoken with such confidence, that someone wants him, explicitly wants him to be theirs. It has been so long since he had heard this kind of thing and he realizes it does something to him, it makes him feel needed in a way that has been missing. 

Who is this new Alex who had blown in from years of silence and shattered the image he still had of him being quiet and shy in his memories? He’s so decided, so brimming with this kind of confidence that he never had before.

“We had something special and I think if we were able to try again now as adults who don’t have all of these insecurities and all those things we couldn't control…I think it could be really good….”

“Alex…” he breathes out in surprise, his mind racing with competing thoughts. Alexander’s gaze is so intense that it’s almost hard to hold and he looks away for a moment to try and ground himself and figure out what exactly is going on when he sees. 

Wille feels his heart stop. 

Simon is watching them, in the midst of Maddie, Rosh, and Sara, but he doesn’t seem to be participating in whatever they are talking about, his eyes are set on the two of them. When he realizes Wille has caught him looking his eyes widen slightly, imperceptibly and he turns away quickly taking a sip from his soda.

When Wille looks back he realizes Alex is studying him and feels a strange warmth of guilt flush over the back of his neck and cheeks, “Sorry I…”

“You were looking at Simon, yeah?” Alex says and there is no question in the words really, it’s a statement. 

“Oh I mean that’s…” Here Alex is practically confessing to him and he’s not even giving him his full attention. The ghost of guilt winds its way into his ribcage and squeezes.

“I know you two are sleeping together.” 

Those few words, simple as they are, tilt Wille’s entire world on its axis slightly, “He told you?”

“Well no…But you just did.” Alex chuckles a bit before seeing his reaction and reaches out to touch his arm, “Hey it’s fine…look I noticed you two are close so I talked to him.”

Wille blinks, looking back over at the place where Simon is with his sister and friends and then back to Alex who hasn’t taken his eyes off of him. 

“He didn’t tell me you were sleeping together, yeah? I just guessed. I asked him if there was anything going on between you two and I told him my intentions toward you, that I want you back. I wanted to be upfront.”

Wille feels like he must be in a film with all of the surreal reveals that have been happening tonight, he stares at Alex and can only manage a breathless, “You did?”

Alex nods, “I didn’t want to step on any toes if you two were dating or something but…he told me you’re just friends. And he said that I should go for it.” Alexander blinks at him, watching him carefully but Wille just hears static.

Had Simon really said that? So easily? Logically he knows that it’s not wrong necessarily but he had thought something had shifted between in their dynamic, had felt like they were slowly coming together.

“Was it true? That you two really are just friends? Because if that’s the case...would you be open to hanging out with me and trying again?” Alex steps in closer, angling his body completely toward Wille, “I’m not asking for something serious right now. I think we need to get to know each other again and I’m not asking us to be exclusive right now, so you guys don’t have to drop whatever arrangement you have, but if it works for us…I want to be with you.”

Wille looks over back to where Simon is and realizes he’s gone, for a moment his eyes search the room until he sees him talking to a guy over at the end of the room. A very good-looking guy. Said good-looking guy reaches forward lightly touching his elbow and Simon throws his head back in laughter at whatever he’s said. 

He doesn’t know why it stings, to feel so easily replaced, especially when they never belonged to each other that way, when they don’t belong to each other that way. He doesn’t have any right to be upset, honestly, and why should he be upset?

He swallows dryly and looks at Alex, “Um….can I give you an answer after thinking a bit?”

“Yeah, Wille. No pressure.”

“Okay.”

_______

Bad Bitches💅

Me

What the fuck

Me

What the fuckkkkk

Felice💕

What is it?!?!

Nisse✨

???

Me

Alex said he wants me back. 

Me

Apparently he was talking to Simon about if

 there was anything going on between us

Me

Simon told him no 

Me

He told Alex to go for it

Felice💕

Oh….

Nisse✨

Do you want to try with Alex again?

Me

I mean I don’t know it’s not like I 

haven’t thought about it

Nisse✨

Well why not go for it?

Felice💕

Nils!

Nisse✨

What??? 

Felice💕

Wille Simon really said to go for it?

Me

Yeah. I mean he told me I should reach 

out to him earlier too

Me

I don’t know what to do

Nisse✨

Well you can get with him while you think about it

Me

I don’t know Nisse

Me

There’s a lot of history between us

Me

And I’m not sure how Simon would feel

Nisse✨

Excuse me? You said simon was the one who insisted on keeping it casual 

Nisse✨

You said you were both free to see other people 

Felice💕

Nils come on don’t be dense

Nisse✨

Im just saying. What’s the hang up if you

 don’t want something more from 

Simon? 

Nisse✨

From my perspective. If you do want to 

settle down with someone 

and be in a relationship and he’s not willing

to give that to you 

maybe you should start looking in the 

direction of someone who will

Felice💕

Have you talked to simon? Are you sure 

he really only likes you as a friend, Wille?

Wille stares at the message and frowns, worrying the bottom of his lip with his teeth. No, he hasn’t. It feels a little stupid to start a conversation with someone he’s literally been sleeping with “Hey you said you wanted to stay friends but like…do you actually like me?” Especially when it feels like he’s always finding ways to make things about him even when it’s not his intention. Wile sighs and refocuses on the screen typing out a quick response.

Me

Why would he tell alexander that 

he should “go for it” if he actually wanted

 to be more than fwb with me? 

Seems a little counterproductive

Nisse✨

Oh my goddddd what are we? 12?

Nisse✨

Simon is an adult 

Nisse✨

Which btw so are you in case you forgot

Nisse✨

If you arent okay with the fwb arrangement anymore. 

Break it off and go after someone elses dumplings.

 If you are then might as well play the field. Just don't

 lie to anyone. You said you two were clear about what

 this was so if you want more from simon

 either tell him or move on

Felice💕

Second the don't lie thing but its not that easy?

Nisse✨

Why tho? 

Felice💕

Its not so easy to just “move on” and im sure wille is worried

 about losing their friendship not to mention he doesnt even 

know if simon likes him so what if he brings it up and simon 

balks and things get awkward for no reason?

Nisse✨

This is exhausting. 

Nisse✨

Talk to the boy. 

Nisse✨

Also if he’s not interested maybe you can

 put in a good word for me with him?

Felice💕

Nils 🤦🏾♀️

Me

With Simon?

Nisse✨

Is he a top or a bottom? I gotta know

 if we’re compatible 

Me

?????

Me

I’m not telling you that????

Nisse✨

Considering you’re a big bottom I’m guessing

 I know the answer already

Me

What the fuckkkkkkkk

Me

I hate you sometimes Nisse 

Me

😭😭

Nisse✨

Hey I’m what they call a professional in this industry mmk

Nisse✨

Can tell just by giving them a once over

Nisse✨

My instincts have rarely failed me

Felice💕

Well You’re also a big bottom so

Nisse✨

Says the other bottom

Me 

I’m not even a bottom. I go both ways!?

Nisse✨

Don’t try to take Felice’s thing.

Nisse✨

Also that sounds like something a bottom would say

Nisse✨

At this rate let’s change the group chat name to

“bitch bottoms”

Felice💕

😩

Me

Bad bitch bottoms 

Felice💕

Boss bitch bottoms

Me

Bottom bitches

Nisse✨ has changed the chat name

Bottom Bitches💅

Nisse✨

Let us mark this new era of our friendship

Nisse✨

Im so proud of us all

Felice💕

Glad to witness this moment

Me

Wow you really tapped into something Nisse

Me

I guess that’s why we all get along so well

Felice💕

Because none of us would ever want to have sex 

with each other?

Me

That’s not really what I meant but 

💀💀💀 

that would be weird

Nisse✨

Wille is busy enough fucking one of his friends already

Felice💕

True. Wille is too busy to put one of us in the rotation 

Me

????

Nisse✨

But theoretically Wille if you had to fuck one 

of us who would it be and why

Me

???!!!! Why are we talking about this

Felice💕

You’re the one who talks about fwb so much 

Felice💕

So? Which one would it be?

Me

Uhhh I’m not gonna answer that

Nisse✨

You were obviously going to say me weren’t you

Me

?????????

Felice💕

Pretty sure its me Nils. Sorry. Not sorry

Felice💕

We will just ask again the next time you’re drunk 

Nisse✨

What’s wrong with me???

Wille casts his phone to his side, the screen facing down into his blankets, and rolls his eyes, looking up to the ceiling and laughing as his friends bicker in their newly named group chat.

Nils is always so pragmatic and logical with these things, but he feels as though Felice understands the nuances and is better at putting his feelings into statements.

That’s it really. When it comes down to it. Wille is nervous about losing him, and not even just as a friend. He’s not ready to stop this arrangement they have. He likes it. Wille finds that when they are apart his body remembers him, the ghost of his touch and his lips and it comes back to him in his dreams both in the night and day. It’s a physical connection he’s been searching for in so many people, thinking it would fill the empty ache inside of him but none of them had been enough.

If Simon turns him down, he could lose that, he could lose the connection they’ve built and then eventually he could lose him completely. One of them would start a new job and messages would become more and more sporadic until one day they stop completely. He could up and disappear without any closure the same exact way as Alexander had, as his family had, and then he’s alone again.

He’d rather be with Simon like this than lose him altogether. 

Chapter Text

Simon stands outside of his door, heart a wild, ardent thing that hammers against his ribcage as the blood pulses through him. Lifting a hand to knock at the door he calls out his name.

“Wille!”

It’s nearly 3 am. He might be sleeping, or he may not even be home, but Simon doesn’t care, doesn’t even remember how he got here, all he knows is that he has to see him, he has to tell him.

He can’t be with Alex. He can’t because Simon —-

The door opens and reveals Wille, with dark circles, in an oversized t-shirt that's colored by old, faded, paint-stains and hangs loosely off of his bare shoulder. Simon wonders for a moment how he's wearing it now when he's fairly sure it is sitting on his desk at home from the last time he stayed over. However, when Wille’s eyes meet his all other thoughts sift out like sand. Said eyes widen slightly as he wraps his arms around himself to try to keep out the cold.

“Simon, what are you doing here? How did you get here? I thought you went home from the party—-“

“Don’t date Alexander.” Simon cuts him off suddenly, stepping into the doorway and seeing as Wille’s expression changes sharply from surprise to something hot that sparks into his eyes like embers, something possessive, “I don't want you to be with him. I want you to be with me .”

Those are the only words that escape his lips before Wille reaches, grabbing him, kissing him as they stumble into the apartment. Simon practically kicks the door closed behind him, fingers in dirty blonde strands as Wille’s hands pull him closer, tighter against him, as tight as he can come.

Their kiss is desperate, the buildup of all this tension and want bubbling over into this molten haze of a fever dream. 

“I want you so bad. I need you please please. ” Wille’s voice against his lips fills him with a soaring euphoria, his answer everything that he has wished and hoped and waited for.

He’s not sure when or how they end up on the couch, but the surroundings, the room, none of it matters. Every ounce of attention he has is all directed onto the man who is kissing him breathless and pushing him back onto the cushions as they sink down together.

Hungry fingers gripping, pulling, soft, hot, sending a blazing drip of honey down his spine. Wille straddles him, a hand around his neck to steady himself as his tight heat sinks down over his cock, pulling him in, engulfing him in an impossible wave of pleasure. Simon groans,  his head falling back onto the cushion as the heat unfurls in his core, slow like the petals of a pure white orchid. Sucking in a sharp breath as Wille’s fingers twist into his curls dragging him back, their eyes locking feverishly before they crash together once more, fingers gripping his hip, another at the nape of his neck. The other's body arches above him and Simon pulls him down to kiss him, wet and filthy swallowing the gasp that escapes his lips with his greedy kiss. 

“Baby…” Simon murmurs against his lips, “You’re so good. Fuck you’re so perfect, you’re so good…” his hands stroke up his sides, lips and teeth moving to his neck drawing a whimper out of the other.

“Simon…”

“Come on baby, you feel so good, you feel so good taking my cock.”

Wille drops his head into the crook of his shoulder, his breathing shaky as he rolls his hips down to meet Simon halfway, they find their pace and rhythm and it’s white hot, fireworks behind his eyes and liquid gold spilling down the nerve pathways and synapses of every inch of his body. 

His breath is sharp and shaking as he fucks Wille, holding him so tightly by the hip that his fingers dip into his skin, leaving bruises where they press permanent marks into his pale skin, over the thin scars, staining them with his touch, wiping away the slate. 

“Please please please Simon” he begs in his ear, “ I need you. I need you to tell me I’m yours, tell me no one else in the world can have me, tell me it’s only you, it’s only you who can do this to me, it’s only you who can touch me like this.” 

Their breaths are strangled in the quiet of Willes' living room, gasping wet and erotic as they kiss again, slick, hungry, and swollen. Wille fucks into him again and again and it’s almost a kind of torture feeling him riding him, hurtling both of them to a looming peak never-ending. 

They pull apart, foreheads pressed together, breathing into each other's lips stealing each other's air, intertwined, one being made of nothing but yearning intensity forged in the fire of their bodies. 

“You’re mine.” He growls into the shell of his ear, a possessive flame ignited in the core of him, “You’re only mine, only I can have you, touch you do this to you.” With each affirmation he drives his hips upwards into him, almost brutal, feeling him fall around him, hearing the sounds that spill out of pink lips fraught with need and desperation. 

And just as he feels his soul begin to leave him, the fire that ravages over his skin and his heart tearing into the core of him like a storm of flame and light, as he feels Wille’s lips form his name over his own, feels his fingers grab at him for support, his body taking him in again, again until he’s practically mindless with the intensity of the journey to that peak,  he hears himself moaning, begging over and over again, “Wille I love you, I love you…”

I love you

And then as if from a nightmare, Simon wakes up.

________

His eyes snap open with a gasp as though he's falling, his body feeling hot and uncomfortably feverish as he stares at his ceiling. His heart is racing and he is very painfully aware of his quickly fading erection. He’s confused, the warm blanket of his dreams is slipping and as he begins to realize when and where he is fully he feels the reality begin to take its place. 

Simon lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes and biting his lip while rubbing a hand over his face. Mid-motion he freezes staring at the pattern, the paint strokes that are visible even in the lurid glow of his lava lamp. 

He feels his eyes sting, filling as a sudden, unexpected feeling of hurt wells up in his chest. Simon closes his eyes tightly, desperately chasing the dream, willing himself back but the edges of it are slipping from his fingers like sand, the colors running out and disappearing too quickly to catch. 

Turning onto his side, he curls up, wrapping his arms around himself, fighting the tears with a stubborn sort of pride that is meaningless here in his empty room far from the eyes of anyone who would judge him.

A choked noise escapes him and curls into himself tighter, burying his face into his pillow and letting the tears leak into the fabric while trying to get a hold of his emotions.

Fuck he's so stupid . He's the stupidest person to walk the earth. He’s a self-sabotaging dumbass who is always making everything worse.

Thinking back to the events that had transpired the night before, Simon wants to bury himself under the covers of his bed and never come out. Either that or smack himself.

Alexander’s words had just caught him so off guard and he had been so unprepared that all he had really been able to do was just stare at him open-mouthed like an idiot.

Simon just never would have expected that, if he didn’t remember every detail so well he would have thought someone was playing a joke on him. 

________

“Simon, are you having a good night?” Alex asks in an even, pleasant kind of voice before glancing down at the cola in his hands, “Not drinking?”

“Uh…no.” Simon looks down at the can and then back up at him, with a blink, “I mean yes…I’m having fun. No, I'm not drinking.”

Honestly, his mind has gone blank trying to think of exactly why Alexander had turned his attention to him in particular, Simon casts a glance at Wille from the corner of his eyes who also seems at as much of a loss as himself,

Alex nods, continuing without a beat, “Do you mind if we speak for a moment?”

It grows quiet and Simon feels as though all of the group's attention is completely honed in on him and Alexander and despite the fact that the last thing that Simon wants to do is go outside to talk to Alex under all of this attention, he feels almost as though he has to say yes.

Simon stares at him, but Alexander’s gaze is steady and intentional and he waits patiently for an answer which finally comes out in a stuttered, “Oh uh…sure…right now?”

“Right now would be great if that’s okay.”

Looking back at Wille for a moment in confusion he tips back the rest of his soda, puts it on the surface of the piece of furniture beside him, and follows Alex outside through the glass screen doors, wrapping his arms around himself.

It’s freezing outside and he’s only in the thin, silvery button-up he’s pulled out from the depth of his closet. It’s actually a top he had taken from a collection of clothes his mother had been donating because it didn’t quite fit any longer. It’s not his usual style but he had worn it at a few music gigs he had done in the past when he was trying something new on stage.

He thinks Wille likes it though, judging by the way his eyes had stayed glued to him the entire time they had been at Maddie and Rosh’s place. He likes the weight of his attention on him and flourishes under it the feeling of being appreciated.

But now he feels underdressed and self-conscious next to Alexander and his no doubt designer labels. Brands that Simon would never recognize and price tags he could never afford. 

Wrapping his arms around himself he hunches slightly in the cold shuffling his weight back and forth to try and keep some warmth. Did they really have to go outside for this? Is Alexander really not cold?

“Sorry for springing this on you. You’re probably wondering why I asked you to come out here with me.” Alex seems unaffected by the chill

“Yeah, a bit.” Simon shivers looking around at the veranda, the small number of people out here are the few stragglers who smoke, shivering and huddling together as they light up their cigarettes.

“Look I didn’t want to ask Wille directly yet because I know how he is…I don’t want to stress him out or put him in an uncomfortable situation where he starts getting all in his head about this…so I wanted to ask you first and directly.”

Simon turns to him, curious, “What do you want to ask?”

“Are you two together? Like dating?”

The question takes him aback, unsure if he heard him correctly. Simon wilts slightly under Alex’s direct and unfaltering gaze,“…No…umm did you think we were? We are….friends. That’s…”

“Really? So you aren’t together then?” The other man cocks an eyebrow, slightly disbelieving if the tone of his voice is anything to go by. 

“No….” Simon swallows, the back of his neck feeling flushed despite the freezing temperatures, “Why do you ask?”

“Okay…you see, since running into him again I’ve been thinking a lot about our relationship...I was thinking about it a lot while I was abroad. How I fucked up and wanted to do better by him. I just feel like what we could have potentially been was cut short and out of our control.” Alex turns to face him, “I want him back. I'm going to ask him if he would be interested in trying again. If he says okay then I think it could be good for both of us, if not then at least I will know I tried.”

Simon stares at him feeling as though the blood has drained from his face, “Oh…uh….” 

“I didn’t bring this up to ask your permission or something,” Alex clarifies as Simon is still reeling, “But if you two were dating I just…didn’t want to step on any toes.”

“ I mean it’s not like it’s my place to say who he can and can’t date….”

Alex raises his brow slightly, “No it’s not...I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t something already and I thought it’d be better to ask you directly.”

“Yeah, sure. I mean. Go for it I guess.” His brain is screaming at him even as his mouth is moving, the words are already out before he feels himself spiral.

What the fuck is he doing? Why the hell would he say that when he has finally finally realized that what he feels for Wille isn’t very platonic after all?

He’s about to say so and then the thought strikes him.

What claim does he have to Wille? 

He doesn’t have a history with him. He was the one who told him that he didn’t want a relationship, that was Simon . It was Simon who asked him for this arrangement, this whole friends-with-benefits thing. That was Simon and no one else.

And he had seen Wille’s expression when Alexander had shown up out of the darkness, had seen the shock and the way his eyes hadn’t been able to leave him.

Simon doesn’t have a claim over him and has no right to push him in the direction that he wants. 

“You…uh…okay…” 

Alex says something else, but he can barely hear his mind is just buzzing so loud that it practically drowns out his thoughts. He’s talking and Simon is nodding even though he has no idea what is being said and then Alex turns and starts to leave and he feels like he can’t breathe despite being outside where there’s nothing but frozen air.

When the door closes behind the other man Simon feels like he suddenly lets out a breath, eyes widening and searching the sky as if he’s going to find an answer somewhere in the inky black of night. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out, his breath crystallizing in white clouds as he feels the sobering truth begin to materialize in the cold. Turning with wide eyes back to the door where he can just make out the crowds of people he is frozen for a moment and then there’s movement beside him, the group of smokers pushing past him and he slips into the room with them, looking over as he sees Alex heading toward Wille and his friends.

Wille turns toward him and he looks away and rushes toward the other room where the drinks are, trying to find a quiet spot to have what feels like a breakdown.

What the hell?

What the hell .

He feels the cola and the food he ate before coming here roll sickly in his stomach and takes a few deep, grounding breaths looking up at the ceiling of the room splattered with revolving lights. 

“I’m an idiot.” He murmurs as the realization sets in.

“Hey, Simon!” Snapping his head around he sees his sister coming forward looking curious, “What are you doing tucked away over here?”

“Uh…just getting something else to drink.” He manages and sees on her face that she doesn’t quite believe him.

“Come with me.” She slips her arm into his and pulls him down the hallway and into another space with small groups of partygoers, standing close, laughing with drinks in hand. He sees Maddie and Rosh in the hallway and they look up and come along when Simon grabs their arm followed shortly by Ayub who is just coming around the corner. 

Standing together they draw into a conversation about small-town gossip back in Bjärstad, the usual, who got arrested, which business owner started drama with another, who got who pregnant. Simon doesn’t really care and isn’t really listening; he's trying hard not to look over at where he knows Wille and Alexander are standing. He’s trying hard but the harder he tries to ignore it the more he feels his attention pulled in their direction like a magnet.

And then he can’t help it anymore he’s burning with curiosity and the need to know, like being in an accident and seeing it approach closer and closer but being unable to look away. 

When his eyes find them he finds himself stuck watching as Alexander leans closer on his toes into Wille’s space, puts a hand on his shoulder, and looks up at him as Wille tilts his head to look down at him. He can’t quite see the expression on Wille’s face but he’s not sure he wants to. Isn’t sure he could handle seeing him look at Alexander the way he imagined that he had been looking at him that night after the concert.

Oh god, what if they kiss here? In front of him?  

Simon is desperate to look away, doesn’t want to see, just can’t bear to see, but he can’t turn away. There is no helping it now, he has to know, he needs to know.

And of course, that’s when Wille sees him. 

His heart skips a beat, breath catching as they lock gazes; amber, dark, electric. Heat races over his skin like a chill. 

They stare at each other and it could be minutes, hours maybe he's not sure but he can’t breathe until he physically pulls his eyes away from him, tries to focus on the conversation, the condensation of his glass, the thrum of the bass, anything except Wille and his amber eyes. 

When he sneaks a glance back in Wille’s direction he's refocused on Alex and Simon feels both relieved and panicked at the same time. It sits just beneath his skin, all tight and in his chest taking up space in his throat. 

He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He just can’t be here anymore. Simon spins around in the direction of the exit and almost crashes into a tall man with a charming smile and locs that are lightened at the tips.

“Hey, careful.” The man says, giving him a wide grin, “You almost knocked the soda out of my hand.”

Flushing slightly Simon looks at his glass and back to his own, “Sorry about that…not drinking either?”

“I don’t drink.” The stranger says in a light voice, leaning his shoulder against the wall. 

“Hey me too...at least not usually,” He says with an awkward raise of his glass. Simon tried to smile and nod but his mind is scattered across three different places and he just can’t quite focus.

“What’s your name?”

“Uh..it’s Simon. You?” He looks around gesturing to the people, “How do you know Stella?”

“I don’t. I’m just tagging along with a friend who I think knows her from some modeling gig. I’m Temu.”

“You’re a Model too?” He looks him over, Temu is tall, nearly two heads taller than Simon himself, and well-dressed with a certain willowy androgyny to him that screams high fashion.

“Yeah.”

They talk a bit, Simon is grateful for the distraction although he’s still unable to keep himself from sneaking glances at Wille, at one point he notices him look in his direction and in a panic turns to Temu and laughs extra loud at something he says, the man giving him a slightly confused look. He doesn’t comment on it though and they continue to talk about random things until Maddie sidles her way in between them.

“Hey, you met Temu.”

“You know him?” Simon asks, not really surprised considering Maddie seems to know everyone.

“He was one of the models that did a gig with one of SocialFlys clients before you joined.” She says with a wink looking between them, “I follow him on socials and we’ve rubbed elbows at events.” 

“Everyone kind of knows each other in this industry.” The taller man shrugs, “Sweden isn’t that big.” 

“True…” Simon murmurs.

There's a shout from across the room and the three of them look to see a group of weirdly hot and untouchable people circled around Stella who is, from the looks of it, doing a live with her phone judging by the way she spins the camera around and flips her hair and pouts at different angles. 

They are waving Temu down and he looks back to them with a grin. 

“Well, it was cool to see you again Mads, and a true pleasure to meet you Simme.” The man grins, cool, collected, and charming with his brilliant smile. And then Temu winks at him which has Maddie jamming her elbow into his side.

“Uh yeah see you.”

“Bye, love.” Maddie gives him an air kiss and laughs as he waves back and slips away from him.

“He’s cute right.” She says and Simon sips at his cola deliberately not answering.

“You want his number?” His friend asks curiously, bumping her hip against his, “Or have you and Wille finally made things official so you can stop torturing us with this whole will-they-won’t-they thing you two have going on.”

He blinks, turning toward her sharply, eyes widening, “What?” The question comes out a little breathlessly.

The grin on her lips slips a bit when she sees his expression, “I mean—“

“Are all of you talking about us like this?” He asks and then an even worse thought finds itself coming to mind, “Wait…are you and Rosh gossiping about us like this?”

She blinks the smile gone completely as she takes a step forward, “No Simon that’s not what—-“

Pulling back he shakes his head, all of the icky feelings from this evening swelling up inside of him. “I’m leaving.” He says suddenly, stepping back completely and knocking into someone behind him.

Seeing the wide-eyed way Maddie looks behind him he knows before he even turns that it’s Rosh. They put a hand on his arm which he shakes off.

“Simon, what’s wrong?” Rosh steps around in front of him next to their girlfriend and he pushes past the two of them, tunnel vision on the exit.

“Simon!” He hears Maddie call out after him but it’s drowned out by the pulse of music and the drone of laughter and conversation that slips around him as he makes his way through the people. 

As soon as he’s grabbed his jacket from the coat check and stumbles into the cold night air he feels the shock of frozen air that douses his lungs as he takes a deep breath jogging down the steps and down the long driveway intent on walking to the closest place to call for a ride.

Hesitating, he turns to look behind him at the sprawling estate, white walls lit up in a kaleidoscope of colors, windows bright with neon lights and the shadows of movement, the faint sound of music in the night air. 

Somewhere in there Wille and Alexander are probably talking, making plans and he feels this awful thing, like he’s reaching for something that is just slipping out of his grasp.

And he was the one who allowed this to happen. 

Because he never knows how to advocate for himself, he never knows how to hold onto something good. 

He dated assholes, in different shades and levels and it was so easy to convince himself that he was happy with them, at least for a while and here he is taking forever to realize that he wants Wille.

Because Wille is good. He's so good and Simon doesn’t know how to allow himself to have that. 

There’s pressure behind his eyes and Simon grits his teeth against it, refusing to allow the pressure to break the dam of emotions that are churning inside of him. So he turns away from the building to call an Uber to take him home, walking through the snow quickly as the chill settles deep inside of him.

________

His phone reflects the worry of his friends when he plugs it in, it died in the Uber, and luckily not before. As the screen finally flickers to life, messages from last night (this morning?) begin to light up the screen. Flicking between chats, he sees that Rosh, Maddie, and Ayub have all messaged and he feels guilty at the way he had snapped at Maddie and ignored Rosh's attempts to reach him, even more guilty when he realizes he hadn't even told Ayub where he was going. Running a hand over his face with a sigh, he drops his hand to the mattress and reads through the messages looking back at him.

Mads😼

Simon im so sorry if i said something out of line I didn’t mean it in a bad way

Mads😼

Are you okay?

Rosh⚽️

Simon did you get home?

Rosh⚽️

I didnt tell Maddie anything 

Rosh⚽️

That might be hard to believe I know, but I didn’t

Yubyub

Did you leave already? I thought we were gonna go together 

Yubyub

Are you okay? 

Yubyub

Simme when you wake up, I told Rosh and Maddie that you got home okay.

I left a little after I realized you did to see if you got back 

It certainly doesn't make Simon feel less guilty, knowing Ayub and the others had been worried for him, that Ayub had left early to check. He sees the missed calls from his phone and realizes that because his phone had died they probably thought he had been ignoring them.

Sighing Simon sits up in the bed, hesitating over the messages. He knows he had overreacted last night, especially with Maddie. It wasn’t her fault that he had been stupid and given Alex the green light to go after his ex, nor that Simon had been dumb enough not to realize that he had feelings, deep and serious feelings, for Wille. (That he loves him if that dream from earlier is saying anything)

He wants to believe Rosh, but it seems odd that they would keep something from their girlfriend. But it’s not like he would have been upset in any other circumstance, her knowing he and Wille are sleeping together. Last night his emotions had just been running high and volatile, which had culminated in him lashing out and reacting to everything.

Pulling up the chat with Maddie he sighs and rubs his temple, frowning as he types out a response, deletes, and then retypes trying to find the right wording.

Me

Hey Maddie

Me

Sorry. I think I just was taken off guard. Last night was weird

Me

Also my phone died so I didn’t see this but I saw Ayub

 told you I got back okay

Switching chats, he opens his conversation with Rosh and writes back that he’s sorry and wasn’t ignoring them, explaining about his dead phone and that it’s okay if they had told Maddie. Not surprisingly the messages are marked as read almost immediately and the three little dots appear in the left-hand corner of the screen. Simon expected as much, it’s nearly ten am afterall and Rosh has always been an early riser, even when they stay out late to party. 

Rosh⚽️

I was worried about you :/

Rosh⚽️

But I’m glad you’re okay 

Rosh⚽️

Also I promise I didn’t talk to her about it

Simon wonders if he’s really been that obvious because he realizes now that he’s liked Wille for a long time, but because it was scary he had been trying to convince himself that it was only friendship. 

Me

maybe it was just obvious 

Rosh⚽️

I mean….kind of

Rosh⚽️

Sorry to burst your bubble

Simon smiles a bit bitterly, running a hand through his flattened curls and flopping back onto his mattress.

Me

Yeah well it probably doesn’t matter now

Rosh⚽️

?

Me

His ex wants him back and I’m pretty sure he

wants to get back with him too

Rosh⚽️

Simon do you like him? Like more than fwb?

Me

Yeah

There’s no point in lying to Rosh or Ayub at This Point. They always know when he is. His conversation with Ayub comes back to him and he feels so fucking stupid because he really should have listened to him.

Rosh⚽️

Did you tell him how you feel?

Me

No

Rosh⚽️

Simon.

Rosh⚽️

You have to tell him

Rosh⚽️

Or are you going to let him slip out of your fingers?

Rosh⚽️

What if he feels the same way? It would be really fucking stupid if

you two just let this go sour bc you’re afraid to talk to each other

Me

I’m not afraid of talking to him Rosh

Rosh⚽️

Then what’s stopping you? 

Me

I don’t know.

Me

I feel like I’m incapable of being happy

Me

I just keep doing it to myself

Rosh⚽️

You aren’t Simon.

Rosh⚽️

I know you feel like good things always go bad. 

But that isn’t always true. And that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.

Simon frowns, staring at the words on his screen as they begin to swim in his vision. Rosh and Ayub are always so unflinchingly supportive, but they don’t hold the harder truths back. They are right, he knows it in his head, that rational part of him that is driven by logic. But his heart, which has experienced enough disappointment in other people has a hard time coming to terms with the words.

After a moment he goes to Wille’s messages, seeing several new ones unread that he must have missed after the initial message flood once his phone turned back on.

Wille❄️

hey did you leave already?

Wille❄️

is everything okay?

Wille❄️

ayub said you are at home now. I was worried :/ 

Wille❄️

let me know how everything is when you wake up

He thinks of replying like he has to the others but he doesn’t even know what to say to him and he’s afraid that the moment they start to talk Wille is going to bring up Alexander and it’s going to throw him in a tailspin again. Instead, he closes the chat and rolls himself out of bed, slipping his phone into the pocket of his sweats, running his hands through his hair, and then over his face.

His eyes find the clothes from yesterday, lying over his desk chair and he scoffs at himself, shaking his head as he remembers how he had nervously put himself together yesterday, trying to wear something that would get Wille to look at him and pay attention to him. And for a moment he had thought it had worked, at the pre-party at Maddie’s. He had thought maybe they were back to their normal selves and that maybe they’d end up going home together, something he had thought about quite a lot lately. 

Dammit, he doesn’t really know what he thought would happen, but he knows his thoughts had been tickled by the possibilities, and when he had Wille’s eyes on him he had felt wanted and desired again.

God, he’s so pathetic.

Finally, he can’t sit and wallow any longer so he jumps up and heads to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Busying himself with washing the few dishes in the sink and tidying up a bit, he pulls a mug out of the cabinet as he hears a door open and footsteps approaching.

“Morning.” 

Simon turns to see his sister in front of him, hair a mess and eyes smudged with old eyeliner. He’s not surprised to see her, she had told him she’d go back with him and Ayub to crash at their place.

“Hey, Sara…you came back with Ayub?”

“Yeah.” She raises an eyebrow, reaching out for his mug of coffee.

“Hey, you can get your own?”

“Yours tastes better.” She shrugs, causing him to roll his eyes and reach back up in the cabinet for a new mug which he fills halfway and then pulls out the milk from the fridge.

“So why did you leave suddenly without telling anyone? That was pretty dramatic.”

“I just wanted to go home.”

“Did it have to do with Alexander showing up and commandeering Wille?” Sara asks, staring at him over the rim of his mug.

“What?”

“Felice told me a little. Not that I know what they talked about.”

“I do.” He stares into the brown liquid of his mug, “Alexander wants to date him again.”

Sara frowns, “And Wille said yes? I thought you two were—-“

“Don’t say what I think you’re going to say right now.” He holds up a hand to which she rolls her eyes, “I really don’t want to hear it. And I don’t actually know what Wille said.”

“Why are you sulking about Alexander Simon? You know Wille likes you right? Or did you not bother to talk to him about it.”

“How would you know that Sara?” He snaps back a bit despite having said he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“I mean he was like a puppy back home, following you around and giving you these eyes , he's always talking about you oh, and don’t forget last year at Stella’s party even back then it was so obvious—-“

Simon rolls his eyes but something she says confuses him and he frowns a bit, “Last year?”

“He was so worried about you. You two came out of nowhere from somewhere down the corridor and you were fucking wasted. he had to practically carry you and you were all over him. He was so worried he even went with us back to Felice’s to help and make sure you were okay.”

Simon blinks, his mind drawing a blank.

What?

He doesn’t remember that at all, he barely remembers talking to Wille even though he knows he had been there and he knows they had spoken he’s not sure about what.

“What? I was all over him? He took me to Felice’s?”

“Yeah…I thought you were going to kiss him in the Uber…wait…you don’t remember anything?”

“No.” He Stares at her and his sister gets an odd look on her face.

“Oh…well you were really drunk. Like the drunkest, I think I’ve ever seen you. Wille helped us bring you back and then when you were situated he left.”

“Why didn’t he tell me that when we started working together….”

“I mean…maybe he thought you’d be embarrassed. I don’t know Simon, I just know that he was worried, and he was so careful with you. I think he cares about you a lot.”

Simon would have been embarrassed, knowing that, starting at his new job. It definitely would have been an odd thing to lead with when they had barely known each other, but they had talked about the party before since then hadn’t they? Simon likes to think that, beyond all this weird emotion stuff, they aren’t the worst at talking (his friends might disagree though). 

Maybe he doesn’t want to know if he was stumbling around and saying embarrassing things to the point that he blacked out and Wille had to help him get home. God, he hopes he didn’t throw up or something awful like that.

The more he thinks about it the more embarrassing the scenarios become and the less he actually wants to know what exactly happened.

“Yeah maybe…” he frowns and shakes his head and then catches her glance, “About the being embarrassed thing…not him liking me.”

“My god Simon just talk to the man.”

“You aren’t the first person to tell me that actually…” he nudges her, pulling a smirk from her lips as she rolls her eyes. 

“Maybe because we are right and you’re too old to be acting like this.”

He sighs, sipping his coffee and looking over at her while refusing to acknowledge the grain of truth buried in her words, “Hey Sara….last night Maddie said that everyone is tired of watching us go back and forth….is it true? Does everyone think we are—-“

“In love?” Sara says without missing a beat, “Yeah. They do.”

His eyes widen, “You’re exaggerating.”

“Not so much bro.” 

Both of them look over as Ayub shuffles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, blindly reaching into the refrigerator for one of the energy drinks he has stored in the back. 

“What?”

“You two are obvious.”

Ayub leans against the fridge, opening the can with a hiss and taking a sip while rubbing his temple. His friend looks pretty wrecked with his messy hair tied into a bun and dark circles under his eyes and Simon feels a little guilty for ditching him the night before.

“Hey Ayub I’m sorry about last night, I should have told you where I was going. I didn’t answer because my phone died when I was on the way back and I didn’t plug it in until I woke up. I didn’t know.”

Ayub frowns and gives him a look. It’s rare that Ayub is sour with him, but after disappearing and being unreachable it’s definitely not undeserved and it makes him feel even worse.

Taking another sip he waits a moment and then sets the can down on the counter, crosses his arms over his chest, and fixes Simon with a hard look “You can’t just up and disappear like that. Something could have happened. We’ve been best friends since we were like five. If anything happened to you I would blame myself forever you know that.” 

The guilt buries itself deeper and he looks down at the wooden slatted flooring before carefully meeting Ayub’s gaze. “You’re right. It was stupid...I’m such a shitty friend. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re not a shitty friend Simon. I know you were upset about seeing Wille and Alexander together but you could have come and told me you wanted to leave.”

“That’s….” He sighs, no It may not have triggered his need to get out and go home, but he can’t pretend it didn’t shake him, he can’t pretend that he hadn’t been able to focus the entire time they were talking.

“You were right Ayub. I should have listened…”

His friend stays quiet but he can feel his eyes on him.

“I should have never started this whole thing with Wille…it was naive of me to think I could sleep with him without getting attached. And now his ex is in the picture and it would be really shitty of me to choose now of all times to tell him how I feel.”

“Maybe his ex showing up isn’t the bad thing you think it is if it made you realize how you actually feel.”

What he doesn’t say is that he already knew before Alex showed up in the snow that night. He may have put a voice to the words that night, but rereading the lyrics of the song he had written with Wille in mind, with the smell of his cheap rose shampoo and the sound of his laughter and the feel of the threads of his hair slipping through his fingers. He’d been feeling this way for longer than even he had realized. It had been there, inside of him this long just waiting to be released.

“Maybe you should end whatever is going on….if he hurts you,” Sara says and the words surprise him because sure he’s been moping around, but he never once thought of Wille being the one who had hurt him. He feels like he’s been doing this to himself. 

“It’s not Wille’s fault Sara. I told him I didn't want a relationship, we knew from the beginning we were free to date other people…that this didn’t mean anything…”

And he told Alex to go for it.

Idiot.

His sister frowns and looks like she wants to say more but refrains.

“Hey, bro.” Ayub says, “You can change your mind, you know. You’re allowed . You need to tell Wille how you feel. Me, Sara…Rosh…we all support you but in the end, if you want to be with him you have to be the one to take the initiative. And it doesn’t matter if his ex showed up or not.” His friend sets the can down and takes a step toward him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“They may have known the old Wille, but you know the current Wille. So he’s not more important than you just because they have a history together.” 

The words start things turning in his head. Yes, Ayub is right. He is allowed to change his mind, but still isn’t it kind of inconsiderate timing if he decides to bring this to Wille now?

“I don’t know what—-“

“Just talk to him!” 

“Bro talk to him for fucks sake.”

Both Sara and Ayub speak at the same time and even Ayub seems agitated which despite everything makes Simon laugh. It’s so hard to get Ayub upset, he's always so level-headed and chill so it’s almost funny to see him flustered.

“ Okay.” Simon concedes reaching for one of the clementines from Wille he put in a bowl by the sink. Turning it in his hands he sighs before digging his thumb into the center and peeling the skin. Some of the juice drips down the side of his hand so he lifts it up to suck it off. There’s a burst of sweet and bright citrus when it touches his tongue. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

“As soon as you can before the two of you combust okay,” Sara murmurs from where she’s made herself comfortable at the table, buried in her phone.

“Soon.”

________

He is feeling a little more settled after coffee and another nap.

Simon is lying back on his mattress, listening to music and thinking about everything his friends have been saying. He knows they are right and that he can’t ignore this any longer he feels like he’s going to burst if he tries. He should at least ask or at least talk to Wille. 

They’ve always been so open with each other, he's always felt so comfortable talking to Wille so there isn’t a reason to be scared right? 

When he pulls out his phone, scrolling through as he thinks about how to answer Wille, he finds himself going back to their Instagram messages, which turns into him snooping his account after being distracted by the fact that he’s changed his profile picture. It’s a more recent picture than the previous one, his crooked grin in the frame of a side profile, a cigarette loosely between his fingers. He looks both soft and edgy at the same time and Simon sighs. 

He’s so gone for this man, how the fuck did it take him this long to realize?

Judging by the pictures he’s uploaded on his stories, Wille seems to be out. There are a few other people with him, people that used to go to Hillerska. Swiping to the next picture he is about to swipe out and go to their messages before he spots something in the picture, the back of someone’s head which looks familiar but he’s not sure why.

And then it hits him, it’s because he’s seen that back of a head, he knows who it is. Simon types into the search bar for his name and it doesn’t take long to find.

Alexander has also uploaded stories, the first one is in an early morning photo, of him in a robe, sitting at an expensive-looking wooden table with a cup of coffee in one hand and one across from him where presumably someone else is sitting. The next is a group of people, having a meal in the place Simon recognizes as the same location of the photos in Wille’s stories. Feeling a little taken aback he goes through them, before going back to the very first one and staring with incredulity at the clementine that sits on the table nearly out of frame. 

That isn't….

No way

Simon stares at his phone, his heartbeat picking up. There’s no way Wille would have spent the night with Alexander after the party, right? He wouldn’t move that fast…

Well, it hadn’t been that many days between Simon joining the agency and them hooking up at the party and Wille said that he often has hookups….

There’s a curl of some kind of hot thing in his stomach, rope-like and slithering like a serpent. Staring for a moment, he then starts to go back through the photos, before switching accounts and doing the same through Wille’s. After a few minutes, he pushes his phone away and shakes his head feeling ridiculous at the direction his mind is going.

After a moment of telling himself to stop overthinking, he goes to their chat and begins to type while shifting to pull himself into a sitting position.

Me

Thanks for checking up on me

Me

are you out right now?

There is only a second of debating before he bites away the hesitation and quickly types out another message pressing send before he can stop himself. 

Me

I miss you

He sees the bubbles appear and then disappear, reappearing once more after a few minutes, and holds his breath, perched at the edge of his mattress. 

Wille❄️

hi you

Wille❄️

you miss me huh? Sounds serious

😉

The semi-flirty response makes him smile with relief, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. 

Me

Don’t flatter yourself hahaha

Me

Where are you right now?

It takes longer than he expects for the response to come. Simon tries to set his phone aside and ignore it but he can’t help but check every few seconds, tapping his foot anxiously and frowning as he waits. Finally, he sees the bubbles appear.

Wille❄️

i met some friends for lunch 

Simon pauses, furrowing his brow. He doesn’t really recognize those people in the photos and he’s fairly sure Wille isn’t that close with them. He doesn’t know for sure of course, but he’s been spending a lot of time with him over the past few months and he’s gotten to know the majority of people Wille spends the most time with. 

Simon sighs when he realizes what he’s doing and tries to remind himself that he’s being ridiculous. Still, he can’t help but press him a bit on it.

Me

Anyone I know?

Wille❄️

Not sure. Some people from school who I haven’t talked to in a while

Blinking at the screen, Simon feels the surprise that creeps over him. Why would Wille leave out Alexander when he knows that Simon knows exactly who that is? Why would he lie by omission if he didn’t have anything to hide?

“What the hell?” He sits up straighter on his bed, looking around his room for a moment, fingers itching to respond. Maybe he shouldn’t push it, maybe he’s just making a big deal out of nothing. Bouncing his foot against the floor Simon looks back down at the screen and starts to type. He just needs to know more.

Me

Oh?

Me

People who didn’t go to the school when I was there?

It takes Wille a long time to respond. Not the meantime, Simon has already taken a shower, made his bed, dressed for the day, and made himself a quick breakfast of knäckebrod and cheese. He’s spreading apricot jam over top when he hears his phone buzz where it’s lying facedown on the counter. 

Practically lunging across the kitchen to grab it, he opens up the chat, sucking off the jam on his finger.

Wille❄️

don’t think so

Wille❄️

what are you up to?

Simon stares at the screen, letting out an annoyed huff as he sucks his teeth, leaning against the counter and taking an angry bite out of his crispbread. 

Going back to Alexander’s Instagram he sees new photos that have been uploaded and immediately clocks Wille in the background. Okay, he has his back turned to the camera, but it’s definitely him. Simon would recognize that ass…err hair, anywhere. 

Why the hell is he lying to him about hanging out with his ex? Or even if he’s not lying directly he’s definitely acting weird about it. He thinks back to the photo from Alexander’s apartment this morning and wonders if he’s giving him too much benefit of the doubt by thinking they wouldn’t have moved that fast.

Leaning into the annoyance he feels so that he doesn’t dwell on what’s festering there just beneath the surface, the hurt and the way he’s suddenly imagining so many scenarios in his mind that confirm that Wille is hiding something. 

Me

Not much

Wille❄️

hey for Christmas I got a bunch of free passes from Nils to this fancy bathhouse. 

I was thinking of going after one day after work

maybe when we start back

you want to come?

Narrowing his eyes slightly Simon resists his initial urge to reply with something eager, his immediate reaction is to think yes, yes I want to go, but he shouldn’t let this go that easily right? 

Of course, he could just call Wille out on his not-so-truthful answer, but why should he have to? Why did Wille even lie in the first place? 

His phone buzzes again and he snaps his eyes down to the screen in annoyance thinking Wille has sent something else, but it’s not Wille at all.

The universe must be playing a joke on him because when he reads the Instagram username he immediately recognizes Temu, the tall model guy from last night.

Te.ez

Hey. Don’t know if you remember me. It’s Temu :) 

Te.ez

Stella tagged you in that group pic

Te.ez

I kind of wanted to keep talking so hope it’s okay I reached out :)

Simon laughs out loud, a frustrated and incredulous sound, shaking his head because no hate to Temu, but what fucking timing.

He’s about to answer with something quick and generic when he pauses, thinking about the pictures from Alexander’s Instagram stories and Wille’s lies by omission and feels a spike of jealousy and pettiness unfold in his gut. 

Opening his and Wille’s chat he pauses a moment before firing off several messages in rapid succession.

Me 

Hey, I'm kind of busy rn. I’m going to meet this guy in a bit.

Me 

Ask me again when we are back at the office 

Me

🧡

Closing the chat with a huff and trying to enjoy the very brief sense of satisfaction in imagining Wille’s expression when he reads that message (the heart is maybe a little much) he turns back to Temus's message before he can think too much about what he’s doing.

Simmesimme

Oh hey you 😊

Simmesimme

Ofc I remember

Simmesimme

Glad you found me afterall

Te.ez

It was cool talking to you at the party. 

Te.ez

Uh this might sound really crazy but there’s this event I got invited to and I have a plus one

Te.ez

The guy who I was supposed to go with canceled

Te.ez

Do you want to go? 

It’s almost too perfect. the whole setup, for a second he feels bad, being petty like this, but the feeling mellows when he thinks back to Wille out with Alex, his ex, who Simon knows is on him like a bloodhound. And when he thinks about how Wille didn’t admit they were together he loses his hesitation.

Simmesimme 

That sounds cool :)

Simmesimme

What time? I’ll be there

________

Simon meets Temu outside of the venue about ten minutes after they have arranged. He’s purposely taken an extra ten minutes to wait down in the station because he doesn’t want to look too eager and also he’s been regretting this decision since the moment he left his apartment and started the commute into the city.

Not sure what to wear to an event that’s invited actual models he had ended up with a top he hopes looks passable and the same black pants from the night before that he hopes to god Temu doesn’t recognize. 

When he sees him waiting by the doorway, face bathed in the blue-white glow of his phone screen, Simon calls out and is met with a bright smile as the man puts his phone away and slips it into his pocket.

“Hey, you.” The man slips his hands into his pockets looking calm and relaxed in a way that Simon thinks looks completely unnatural on himself.

“Hey.” He waves, looking around and shivering a bit, “It’s cold out here sorry for making you wait.”

“No worries, I just got here a few minutes ago, come on.” Temu nods toward the entrance, grinning at him and Simon swallows, nodding before following him as they enter, get waved in through the VIP line, and drop their jackets at the coat check. 

“You don’t drink right?” Temu turns toward him, a hand lightly pressed to his shoulder.

Shaking his head, looking around at the high ceilings and grandiose European design of the room he finally finds Temu again, “Not usually. Sometimes…but I try not to.”

“I don’t drink in general. There’s a lot of drugs and alcohol floating around the industry I’m in and I’ve seen it fuck up people's lives so I just stay away from that shit.”

“That’s probably the smart thing really.” Simon adds, “So what kind of event is this exactly?”

“It's for a fashion magazine, their ten-year anniversary of publication, see there” the man points at a giant number 100 made out of cake that’s displayed at the end of the hall, “you know it right?”

Flushing a bit He shakes his head, “I mean I’ve heard the name at work but I’ve never actually seen it or opened one of them. I've got to be honest with you...I’m not really savvy to this whole world of fashion and labels…fashion has never really been my thing.”