Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Where would you like this, sir?” 

“A little over to the right, under the windows. Perfect, thank you,” Simon smiled at the movers as they finished shifting the second couch. He watched as they nodded and filed out of the apartment to get the remainder of their furniture, the giddiness he'd been feeling since that morning not at all waning. 

His eyes flitted around the space, taking in the way the afternoon sun managed to bathe every inch in a warm glow. It was a slightly older apartment, though certainly not as old as the aging walls of  Drottningholm. Wilhelm had been confused when he had made that stipulation when they began taking their apartment hunting seriously. Simon had said that he didn't want to live somewhere sterile, a place with clean white walls and sharp corners and shiny windows– in other words, a hotel. No, he wanted their first apartment to be homey, a place he and Wille would make their own. Now, as he notes the ornate molding on the ceilings, the aged flooring, and the large windows, he feels they succeeded in achieving their goal. 

He spent the next few hours supervising as movers, royal and nonroyal though all vetted just the same, came in and out of the front door with their stuff. Their stuff – Simon didn’t think he would ever get used to that, them being a real couple. A unit. It had taken them a long time to get to where they are now. The year after Wilhelm’s explosive speech had been hard. The first 2 months alone had been spent in constant back-and-forth discussions with Wilhelm’s parents, royal advisors, and, something Simon never wanted to repeat, actual members of the Swedish Riksdag. He still shudders at the memory of his first meeting with the Prime Minister, his palms so sweaty he almost refused to shake the man’s hand while Wilhelm tried to stop himself from laughing. The staring that had begun waning as the video left more and more people’s immediate memory returned tenfold. It got to the point that Simon and his family had been assigned their own security detail, something Kristina (Simon refuses to call her the queen unless in her presence even after so long) had agreed had become increasingly necessary as droves of paparazzi began following them in public, and on one rare occasion to their home. 

Simon had spent the week before they were introduced to their security team grumbling under his breath at any given time, petulantly ignoring Wilhelm’s claims that he just wanted him to be safe when he wasn’t near him. He changed his tune almost immediately after he had met the two specifically tasked with shadowing him. Nylah, an Egyptian ex-military soldier who brought them homemade bread from time to time, and Luis, a Venezuelan man who grew up on his father’s farm and spent his free time volunteering at animal shelters. The two of them took their jobs very seriously but they also went out of their way to make sure Simon was always comfortable and not feeling as though he was constantly being watched. Wille called them the dream team, jokingly complaining about Malin while she playfully rolled her eyes at him. 

Things at school were not much better, though the bullying and ostracization were replaced by an intense kissing up to him that left him feeling uncomfortable and unsettled. One night, while they lay in Wilhelm’s bed, Simon had confessed his feelings. 

“It feels like I’m just another person they can use to get to you. Like, you’re this prize everyone is trying to win and I’m a tool they need to exploit to get closer to you.” 

Wilhelm had tried his best to help but surprisingly, it had been Henry and Walter who had remedied the issue for him. The two of them, emboldened by their relationship, had come out and began publicly dating at the start of their second year. Simon had gotten closer to the latter, the two of them bonding over shared musical tastes and having oblivious boyfriends. The 4 of them were sitting together during lunch, Wilhelm and Henry distracted and talking about an upcoming football match as Simon and Walter laughed at a joke Felice had said earlier when a first-year had suddenly materialized at the short boy’s side. Simon had paused in his words to ask what the boy wanted when Henry interrupted. 

“Ok, I’ve had enough,” the blonde shouted, getting up and standing on the table to glare down at everyone. “Listen you little shits. I have had it up to here with your kissing up. Wilhelm has made it very clear that he is uncomfortable with you guys approaching him with your weird hero worship and whatever other attempts you want to make at getting on his good side. Bothering his boyfriend during lunch is the best way to end up on his shit list, and I promise you it is very hard to get off that list once you're on it.” Not mentioning August’s name was not enough to disguise his meaning and Simon held back a smirk as a few eyes widened in fear. “Now, if you could all kindly fuck off and let us eat our lunch in peace, I will graciously refrain from making your lives for the next year a living hell. Understood?” 

Wilhelm looked as though he was about to thank the boy only to end up on the receiving end of his heated gaze. “If you thank me, I will cut you.” Simon and Walter had burst out laughing at his boyfriend’s shocked gaze. Henry’s words had definitely helped, though, and Simon had once again been able to go to classes without some rich baby trying to butter him up. 

After that, things had mostly calmed down. That is not to say that Simon got away scot-free. No, he still very much had to deal with scathing anonymous remarks on the internet and seeing his moaning face on various social media sites, even while the palace cyber security team worked overtime taking it down every time a new one got posted. It was something he spoke about often with the therapist his mother and Wilhelm slowly convinced him to start seeing. 

Helle was your typical Swedish woman, with slightly graying blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and an affinity for knit sweaters, but she also had a kindness to her that Simon had warmed up to almost immediately. They slowly worked through his trauma, from his childhood to having an illegal sex tape of his first sexual experience filmed and posted online as an act of petty revenge. There was not a single session that ended without him leaving with red-rimmed eyes and a lighter chest but there was one, a few weeks into their meetings, that stood out amongst the dozens over the years. 

“Now, tell me Simon, how would you describe your relationship with Wilhelm?” 

Simon, who had been mid-sip of his scorching hot tea, had to make a conscious effort not to choke as his eyes widened. “Pardon?” 

Helle had smiled, slightly amused at his hoarse tone. “Well, we’ve spent all this time discussing the injustices you've faced as a result of things outside of your control. I thought it would be beneficial to talk about something good for a change.” 

She had a point, they had spent an awfully long time rehashing the events of his first year and the depression that swiftly followed that he hadn't even realized that Helle had no idea what their relationship was actually like. 

He remained silent, pondering her words for a moment as an unconscious smile, soft in all the way he had never been allowed to be, melted onto his face. 

“Our relationship is…sweet.” 

“How so?” 

“Well, despite our obvious differences, we always treat each other as equals, you know? Like, people assume that because of his status, he has some type of hold over me or whatever. But it’s never been like that, even if that was a topic I often liked to bring up in arguments during our break. Wille is sweet in the way the spring air is sweet. He is kind and thoughtful , always respectful. He makes sure we talk about our feelings and that we never go to bed angry, though we make sure to discuss our issues in the morning. He always speaks up when he feels I’m being disrespected, even if it's his mother doing the disrespecting. ” 

“He sounds like the perfect partner,” Helle interjects. 

Simon laughs, shaking his head gently. “He isn’t perfect, neither am I for that matter. But he’s perfect for me, and I, him.” He paused, taking a subtle breath before speaking up once more. “Do you remember that boy I mentioned, Marcus?” 

She nodded, “The boy you dated but not actually while you and Wilhelm were broken up, correct?” 

“That's the one. He was older, only by a few years, and I never once felt as though we were on the same page. He was pushy from the start, insisting on a serious relationship despite me constantly telling him that that was not what I wanted. He used my father’s addiction as a means to keep me subservient, make me think I needed him, or whatever bullshit was going through his mind. And I knew, very early on, that he would never compare to Wilhelm, even when he had publicly denied our relationship. Not because Wille is royalty or richer. He is the fucking Crown Prince of an entire Western country and yet, despite everything that should make our relationship seem improbable, he and I have never been anything but equals in our relationship.” 

“You know, in all my time as a therapist, I have never heard someone speak of their significant other so highly.” 

“Yes, well. When someone shows you what it feels like to be loved, well and truly loved , not despite your flaws but because of them, it makes it very easy. Loving Wille is easy .” 

It had been nice to speak about Wilhelm so candidly to someone willing to listen without the intention to sell the information for quick cash. Helle had been a staunch supporter of their relationship before that session but that discussion had solidified her support and to this day she still asked about Wilhelm before he left her office, acting as though he was a grandson who she barely saw. 

And now they were here, moving into their first apartment together in preparation for Simon’s first semester of university at the Royal College of Music while Wilhelm took a gap year between school and his mandatory military enlistment. 

Deciding it would be better to get a head start on unpacking, Simon tasked Nylah with helping him in the kitchen while Luis stood guard outside. 

“Where would you like the cutlery, Simon?” Nylah asked, sweeping a stray curl out of her eyes while she stood in front of the plethora of kitchen drawers. Simon looked up from where he was carefully emptying a box of glassware with a thoughtful expression. 

“The drawer by the sink, please. There should be an organizer at the bottom of the box you found them in.” 

They worked in tandem for 2 hours, meticulously working their way through the kitchen and starting in the living room by the time they heard the front door opening. His eyes had brightened and he carelessly threw a pillow onto the couch before rushing to greet his boyfriend at the door. 

Wilhelm beamed at him, hands full of takeout from the Indian restaurant at the corner. He instantly put the bags down as Simon caught up to him and threw his body at him in full force. 

“Hey, baby,” Wille whispered as he held Simon’s legs securely around his waist. 

“Hi,” Simon whispered back, leaning down for a kiss so gentle it could barely be classified as one. “Welcome home.” 

The blonde’s smile widened. “Happy to be here.” 

“Well, aren't you guys the sweetest?” A sarcastic voice spoke up from behind them. 

The duo turned to face a playful Nylah who rolled her eyes. 

“Young love, how disgusting.” 

Simon giggled. “Aww, don’t be jealous Nylah. We both know you are dying for some romance in your life.” 

“The disrespect I get from you is beyond me. I’m quitting.” 

“We would take you seriously if this wasn't the 5th time you've said that this week,” Wilhelm teased as he guided Simon back to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I gave Luis a bag of food for you guys. Chicken vindaloo, right? I asked them to make it extra spicy.” 

Nylah nodded, dropping her act and smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll leave you two alone now.” 

The couple turned to face one another as the door closed behind her, hands instantly reaching for one another. 

“So, dinner? And then we can christen our new bed.” 

Simon blushed at the suggestive tone, hitting Wilhelm’s shoulder in retaliation. “Shut up horndog, I’m hungry.” 

“I’m not going to lie, so am I. Listening to old men talk about an entire nation's finances really drains the life out of you,” Wille groaned, walking to their island and unpacking their dinner. 

“Have I ever told you that I really don’t envy you?” 

“Just a couple hundred times.” 

Simon pinched his arm, laughing at Wilhelm’s fake sound of pain. They ate dinner side by side, picking bits off one another’s plates and talking about their respective days. 

“The WiFi and TV have been set up, though we are missing an HDMI cable for your gaming console. I also promised Felice she could help decorate the living room,” Simon spoke around a bite of his samosa. 

Wille nodded, reaching a hand over to wipe a piece of rice off his cheek, taking just a second longer to caress his face. “Yeah, she mentioned that when I called her in the car. She had to end the call early because you know who was there.” 

Simon rolled his eyes, “You can say her name. She’s not Voldemort.” 

“She may as well be with the way you refuse to talk about her.” 

“Please, don’t start with this again,” the shorter boy said as he got up to wash his hands. 

“ Baby… ” Wille said. He came to stand behind his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his body in a gentle hug. 

“ Wille… ” Simon responded in the same tone. His eyes were focused on drying his hands with a paper towel but the tension in his shoulder belied his inner turmoil. “It’s not that I don’t want to, ok? It’s just…hard.” 

A soft pair of lips grazed the skin of his neck where it met his right shoulder. “I know. I hate knowing how much it bothers you.”

Simon smiled, turning his head to look at Wille’s eyes earnestly. “I appreciate the concern, I really do. But this is something we have to figure out on our own, me and Sara. Let me handle it, yeah?” 

“Of course,” the blonde squeezed his hips once, twice, before stepping back and clearing the mess on the counter. 

Simon watched him with a lovesick expression, eyes tracing his every step. 

“I love you.” 

Without a single moment of hesitation, Wille answered him. “I love you more, baby.” 

And Simon? Simon couldn’t believe he was allowed to be this happy. 

“Now, how about we take this to the bedroom?” 

“Oh my god,” Simon playfully groaned. “My boyfriend is obsessed with sex. I should make one of those Reddit posts. I, 18 male, have a boyfriend, also 18 male who always wants to have sex. What should I do?” 

“Oh, boo hoo. Other people would be dying to have that problem. Plus, I never hear you complain while we’re in bed so who's the real issue, hm? I’m getting mixed signals here.” 

Simon ignored him and made a beeline for the bedroom, knowing Wille would not be too far behind. 

————

The morning of his first day of classes, Simon was a ball of nerves. 

Wille, who had taken the day off just to ensure that he would be able to drop him off, watched him with slightly amused eyes as the Venezuelan man rushed around their apartment. 

“Where the fuck is my iPad? I swear I left it on the couch to charge last night.” 

“Simme?” 

“What?” Simon snapped. 

“You already packed it in your bag. I watched you do it 15 minutes ago.” 

Simon paused, expression turning sheepish as he checked his bag. “Right, sorry.” 

Wilhelm got up from the couch, stopping in front of the shorter male, and gently cupped his face with his hands. “Simon, I need you to breathe for me, ok? You’re going to run yourself right into a panic attack.” 

Simon, knowing he had a point, nodded and followed his instructions as they took a few deep breaths together. 

“Better?” Wille asked after Simon’s heartbeats finally began slowing down. 

“Better.” 

“You are a star. No, no, don’t interrupt me,” Wille playfully chastised him for trying to interject. “Listen to me. You are a star, my love, and it’s about time other people noticed it too. You are going to be the best singer that damn school has ever seen and nothing else matters. Not our past, not the opinions people post online for their other loser friends to see, or what the gossip rags have to say about your hair. Nothing. This is about your future, don’t let anyone take that from you. Not even me.” 

The brunette nodded, trying and failing to keep his tears at bay. “Not even you?” 

“Nope, we both know you’re the better half of this relationship anyway.” 

“Shut up, don’t talk about my boyfriend like that. He’s the crown prince, you know? I could have you sent to the dungeons.” 

“Oh no,” Wille gasped, “the dungeons? How will I ever survive?” 

The rest of their morning passed by much smoother and soon it was time for them to take the short drive over to his university. When Wille turned 18, the first thing he did was get his driver's license. His parents were hesitant, the loss of Erik still fresh in their minds. But he was adamant, determined to not let his trauma overcome his ability to do what other normal teenagers did without worry. Wille’s first car was a gift from his father— a sleek, black BMW that very pointedly did not have any sports car settings. Simon had ridden in it plenty of times, taking his role as passenger princess and designated music selector very seriously. They spent countless nights driving along the streets of Stockholm, windows down to let in the cool midsummer air part their hair, holding hands over the center console. Either Luis or Malin typically took turns following them with one of their security vehicles but the couple had stopped caring about their presence a long time ago and so they barely noticed. It was just them and the night, free to do whatever they wanted. It was another thing they had never thought they could have and would never take for granted moving forward. 

The drive was filled with their idle chatter, discussions of when Wille should come to pick him up, and what they would have for dinner filling the space between them. The domesticity never failed to make his heart flutter. Eventually, they made it to the university and Wille parked his car in front of the main building. 

Simon turned to him with a slightly nervous smile. “Wish me luck?” 

Wilhelm smiled, taking advantage of the extremely tinted windows, and leaned over to kiss him deeply. “Break a leg. Don’t give Nylah a hard time and if anyone bothers you, just write their name down and I’ll stick the Riksdag on them.” 

Simon laughed, shaking his head before leaning in for one more kiss. “I love you, you absolute doofus.” He grabbed his bag from the back seat and stepped out of the car with one last smile. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Later,” Wille nodded, not leaving until Simon was out of his sight. 

Simon could feel eyes on him and Nylah as they walked the distance between the street and the main entrance. Though, Simon thought, he didn’t know if people were staring because they recognized him or because he was walking around with a permanent shadow wearing a suit and an earpiece. Probably a bit of both. 

“Alright, sir?” The Egyptian woman always insisted on referring to him as sir when they were in public. 

“Um, yeah, just kind of anxious.” 

“Of course, that’s to be expected.” 

“Right,” he whispered, looking down at his phone to remind himself what classroom he was meant to be looking for. 

After a short walk around the building, during which he only got lost once, Simon walked into his classroom, sitting near the front while Nylah took up position by the back window. All of his professors had been vetted and briefed beforehand about his need for a security detail during his classes. The university, eager to have the publicity that came with having the crown prince's boyfriend attend their school, was more than willing to accommodate him. 

As the classroom filled up, Simon kept his eyes on his phone, scrolling through Instagram and responding to his mama’s question about her upcoming visit to see their fully furnished apartment. After what felt like forever, the professor stepped in, a middle-aged man holding a cane and wearing an odd combination of striped slacks and a floral sweater. 

“Welcome students, welcome. I am Professor Larsson and I have the pleasure of teaching you all music composition this semester. I hope we all have a successful semester together.” The man set his things down and immediately walked to the chalkboard to write. “Now, for some ground rules. I do not tolerate bullying or harassment of any kind and any instance of such acts will land you with a one-way ticket to the dean’s office. I aim to foster an environment in which everyone is both eager and willing to learn from their mistakes. Therefore, it is prudent that you all forget all notions of superiority and understand that we are all in this together. Let’s be kind to others so others will be kind to us, understood? Yes? Wonderful. Let’s skip class introductions seeing as this class is quite large. Instead, I would like you all to turn to the person sitting next to you and tell them your name, your age, and why you wish to pursue an education in music.” 

Simon immediately felt dread bloom in his stomach as he turned to his left. The person beside him also turned, a girl with dark skin and darkly colored locs. She smiled at him, no hint of recognition in her eyes. 

“Would you like to start?” The girl asked. 

Simon shook his head, “Oh, no, you go ahead.” 

“Ok, I’m Ines and I’m 19. I want to study music because I love the way it influences people’s emotions and I want to one day be able to do that with my songs.” 

Simon nodded, taking a deep breath before he began. “I’m Simon. I’m 18 and I want to study music because it is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. I want to sing for the rest of my life.” 

Ines smiled back, “I totally get what you mean.” 

When class ended, Simon let out a sigh of relief. Most of the other students had vacated the room, leaving him, Nylah, and a few stragglers packing their bags. He was about to step out of the row with Nylah in tow when Ines, who had just finished putting her things away, called out to him. 

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch together?” 

Simon was startled, eyes flitting to Nylah who shrugged as if to say it was up to him. The other girl watched the interaction with interest. 

“You don’t have to,” she said after a moment of awkward silence, taking his hesitation as rejection. 

“No, I’d love to,”  Simon blurted, nodding his head as if to convince himself. “Did you have somewhere in mind?” 

That’s how Simon found himself sitting across from Ines in a small cafe a few blocks from the university. 

“Sorry if this is, like, rude or anything, but why do you have a lady in a suit following you around? Are you a celebrity or something?” She asked after their waiter stepped away with their orders. 

Simon grimaced, unsure how much Ines knew about Swedish politics. “I’m…famous adjacent. It’s a long story.” 

“Uh-huh,” she said, face amused. “You know, there’s a lot of people staring at you right now. I think you’re more than just adjacent.” 

“My boyfriend is very, well known, if that makes sense.” 

“Famous boyfriend? The only really famous, Swedish queer man I can think of is….” her voice trailed off as her eyes widened. “No.” 

The brunette couldn’t help the resigned laugh that left his mouth. “Yeah.” 

“No way. You’re that Simon? The prince's boyfriend, Simon?” 

“The one and only.” He waited for the inevitable freak out only for Ines to stare at him for a moment before scoffing. 

“Only I would move to Sweden and meet the prince’s boyfriend on my first day of classes without knowing it.”  

“You just moved here? But your Swedish is so good,” Simon said, relaxing a little. 

“Oh, well I have spoken Swedish my entire life since my mamma was born here. I wanted to move back here from Norway for university since she always talked about how amazing it is. I’m all on my own.” 

“I’m the same with Spanish. Mama was adamant we learn it but I picked up more than my sister.” He held back the wince at the mention of Sara hoping Ines wouldn’t notice. 

From there their conversation flowed freely. They talked about their favorite artists, their least favorite foods, and the hardest words to say in their respective second languages. When it was time to part ways for their classes, they exchanged numbers with promises to keep in touch. 

His other class was just as uneventful as the first, only there were slightly more stares, but by that point, Simon had gotten back into his habit of tuning out unwanted attention as he took notes while he listened to the instructor talk about diaphragms and vocal chord health. 

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Nylah asked as they stepped out into the afternoon sun. 

“No, it really wasn’t,” he responded, surprised at how much he meant it. 

He spotted Wilhelm’s car parked on the street, their security car parked right behind it with Luis standing beside it, and he did his best to not rush over to not garner more attention. He pulled the door open eagerly, settling into his seat first and pulling the door shut before he turned to his beaming boyfriend. 

“So?” Wille asked with his eyebrows raised. 

“I made a friend,” Simon smiled. 

“Of course you did, baby. The people can’t resist you.” 

“The people can resist me just fine, your highness. You just have a strange obsession with me,” he teased, giving into temptation and kissing Wille’s stupidly attractive face. 

“You say the nicest things to me.” 

“Shut up and start driving. I can practically feel Luis and Malin having a heart attack from how long you’ve been parked.” 

“Fine, fine,” the blonde said, putting the car into drive and carefully pulling out onto the road. “Henry asked if he and Walter would come over later so we could watch the Euro Cup qualifier tonight. I told him I’d ask you in case you weren’t up for company tonight.” 

Simon thought it over. “That’s fine with me. But tell them to bring over some semla from that bakery by their place. I’ve been craving it for weeks and that place is the only one that makes it sweet enough.” 

“Just take my phone and text him back.” 

Simon nodded, grabbing Wilhelm’s phone from the cup holder and putting in the password (his birthday because Wilhelm is the biggest, most love-sick idiot in the world and Simon was just as obsessed with him as he had accused him of being earlier). His conversation with Henry was already open so he began typing. 

Wilhelm: hey this is Simon

Wilhelm: I’m okay with you guys coming on if you bring some semla from the bakery by your apartment

Henry: hiya Simme

Henry: me and Henry will be there at 6 with dinner and semla

“He said they’ll come at 6 with food,” Simon told Wille as he put the phone down in his lap. 

“Good. I’ve kind of missed the little shit, even if he is too loud for his own good.” 

“Where were they, anyway? Spain was it?” 

“Nah, Portugal. Walter’s parents own a villa in Porto by the beach.” 

Simon nodded, “I see. Maybe we should go on vacation sometime. Your family probably has villas in all the best vacation spots,” he spoke softly, leaning his head against the window. 

“Name the time and place and I’ll make it happen, alskling.” 

“You treat me so well.” 

“I try to.” 

————

“Step aside losers, the life of the party is here,” The red-haired boy exclaimed as soon as Simon had opened the door to let them in. His smile was blinding as he walked in carrying a box of pastries, Walter stepping in after him with a calmer demeanor and 2 bags of takeout. 

“Sorry about him, he’s still on a vacation high,” Walter explained, putting the bag down to pull Simon into an overdue hug. 

“That vacation did you both well. Your pasty ass is no longer as pale as the snow.” 

Simon yelped as Walter landed a punch against his arm. 

“How are you making fun of us when your own boyfriend burns just the same? Are you sure he isn’t a vampire?” 

“I’m literally right here,” Wille pouts. 

Henry reaches over to pat his face patronizingly. “We know.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“If only the people knew their future king had such a potty mouth.” 

“I’ll show you a potty mouth.” Simon watched his boyfriend throw himself at their friend, launching them both onto the couch in a heap of long limbs and pointy joints. 

“Ok then, that didn’t take very long to devolve into chaos. How about we eat without them?” Walter suggested. 

“Give it a few minutes and they’ll both be too exhausted to continue.” 

By the time the duo had finished setting the table for dinner, the idiots on the couch finally called a truce and joined them as they caught up over decently authentic burritos. 

“And your father?” Wilhelm asked, picking up a chip from the bowl in the center and stealing some of Simon’s salsa. 

“Still refuses to speak to me but mamma swears he’s coming around. Freja says he’s been asking her about how I’ve been doing now and then, plus he hasn’t cut me out of the will yet so maybe there’s hope.”  

Simon noted the way Walter always sat a bit closer to Henry when he spoke about his father. The man had not taken his coming out very well and, according to Wille who told him but made him promise not to say anything, had a few choice words about Wilhelm’s “bad influence” on the children of the rich and elite. Henry had come back from winter break with a large bruise blooming along his jawline and a slightly feral grimace, like a predator waiting for any prey to make a mistake in his presence. He had settled down after a few weeks and constantly stated that he didn’t care what his father thought of him, he wouldn’t let anyone put him back in the closet, especially after how long it took him to get out of it in the first place. 

“He doesn’t need him anyway,” Walter added, “I have more than enough money to take care of both of us.” 

Henry’s smile turned sharp, a teasing glint in his eye. “Oh yeah? You going to take care of me? Make me your kept woman?” 

“Fuck off,” the boy responded. The blush overtaking his face told them all he didn’t exactly mind. “Anyway, enough about us. What have you guys been up to?” 

“Nothing much. We’ve mostly been tied up with settling into this place and I’m getting used to being away from home,” Simon said, leaning his chin on his entwined hands. 

“Ah, speaking of that,” Henry exclaimed. “You guys should totally have a housewarming party. It’d be nice to get everyone together again after graduation.” 

Wilhelm shrugged, “I don’t know. We don’t have the time to plan a party or anything. Simon is busy with class and Mamma has me booked pretty full with meetings and ribbon cuttings or whatever other bullshit she deems important enough for me to waste my time on.” 

“Yeah, I mean we'd love to but it’s just not feasible with our schedules.” 

“I could plan it,” Henry said, taking a nonchalant bite out of his burrito as if he hadn’t just done something completely out of character. 

“What?” Wilhelm asked in shock. 

“Yeah, babe, what?” Walter echoed the sentiment. 

Henry glanced at them, swallowing the food in his mouth and looking at them all with a blank expression. “What do you mean ‘what’? You guys don’t have the time and I have nothing but time. Plus, I could get Felice to help out. You know she loves planning parties.” 

Wille and Simon looked at one another, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Henry had a point and the parties he had thrown during their third year had been the talk of the town (partly due to how loud they were but nevertheless). Eventually, Simon shrugged with a smile, nodding his head. 

“Oo, you can plan it. But,” he said before Henry could get ahead of himself, “absolutely no alcohol or drugs and that’s non-negotiable.” 

Henry nodded, “Sure, whatever. This is gonna be epic.” 

They were gone by 11, the redhead promising to keep them updated on the “super-spectacular Wilmon housewarming extravaganza” as he officially coined it. They cleaned up together, a house rule they had come up with together before moving in together. Where Simon was very used to chores, Wille needed more structure to keep up with what was asked of him. Among the list was a rule that dictated that they had to spend at least 15 minutes cleaning up behind themselves so that they could wake up with a clean house. 

Wilhelm showered whilst Simon did his nightly skincare routine, the latter laughing as the steam fogged up the large mirror. They finished quickly, both eager to get into their warm bed. 

“Hey,” Simon whispered as Wilhelm settled in beside him, the two of them facing one another in the darkness. 

“Hi.” 

“Thank you for telling Henry about the alcohol and stuff.” 

“You don't have to thank me,” Wilhelm reached a soft hand to cup his face. “I promised you that our home would be a safe space and if that means never drinking while we’re in it then so be it.” 

Instead of responding, Simon leaned in to kiss him. Their lips met in a soft touch of love and care, moving against one another with an ease that only came from years of practice. The shorter boy sighed as his boyfriend nipped at his bottom lip, his mouth opening slightly to allow the other’s tongue access. They remained like that for whoever knows how long, never letting it get too heated but maintaining contact. Eventually, Simon pulled back, giggling at the quiet moan of discontent Wilhelm let out. 

“We gotta sleep, mi amor.” 

“Fine,” Wilhelm pouted, pulling him to his chest as they settled into their usual sleeping positions– the prince lying on his back with the singer tucked into his side, his cheek pressed to the boy’s beating heart. “Love you.”

“Te amo,” he mumbled, falling asleep like he always did with the love of his life by his side; quickly and contently.